In which questions are raised, word spreads, and a perked ear catches something interesting.
"Alright, from the beginning. Tell me everything."
The portly Republic official's comical appearance, complete with oversized moustache, was oddly offset by his grave expression. On the other side of the table sat one member of the unfortunate pair of guards.
"We picked up a ship flying through restricted airspace. We saw the guy leave the ship and started chasing him, but the crowd was too thick. One of the Jedi popped up, told us the Force told her something was happening, and asked for a description of the man. We told her, she thrust a pair of funny cuffs into our hands. Told us what the guy'd done, that the cuffs would keep him from trying anything funny. Said it would fry his brain or something if he tried using the Force, I dunno."
"Elaborate on the airspace."
"We have a few no-fly zones in the area, clearly marked. He flew right through one. What's weird is that his little "detour" was actually less direct than a legal path to his destination."
"Probably wanted you to catch him."
"What I was thinking. Anyway, we started asking around. People told us they saw him go into a bar. We followed him there, snuck up behind him, and got the cuffs on before he could do anything."
"Wait, where was the Jedi?"
"Following us at a safe distance. Didn't want her presence tipping the guy off."
"Hold on, something doesn't fit. You snuck up on a Sith Lord?"
"Don't ask me how. He had a few empty tankards in front of him; we figured he was drunk."
The official frowned, another nagging thought burrowing into his mind.
"Which bar?"
"The 'Hutt's Arsehole', why?"
The official nodded.
"Alright, keep going. You have him in custody. What happens next?"
"We take him to the nearest detention center. Jedi tells us she's going to fetch a good interrogator. You can see what happened next on the tape."
"Let's skip the tape for now. Why didn't any other guards try to apprehend him?"
"Unconscious, the lot. We found this…"
He opened the large metal briefcase next to him and extracted an odd cylinder. It appeared to be a sort of gas tank.
"…In the ventilation system. Probably put it there beforehand, had it on a timer."
The official snapped his fingers, then hastily apologized.
"How many detention centers are there in the general area?"
"Three within walking distance of the bar, why?"
"How many within a mile?"
"Just the…one…"
The guard lightly rapped his forehead in annoyance.
"Planned the whole damn thing."
"Looks like it; check the ventilation systems of the other two. Tell every Jedi within a mile of any one of those to abstain from using the Force for a while until the autopsy results come through."
The guard rose, saluting smartly and exiting the room at a quick pace. The official sat, stroking his moustache in standard "Pondering Gentleman" fashion. He pulled out Nax's profile and looked over his crimes.
He had most of the standard criminal affairs on there, but something bugged Captain Jirs about his violent crimes: assault/battery and murder.
But the only murders are Jedi…
This explained the poison; the only fatality of yesterday's disaster was Jedi Master Ginzs. Why go to the trouble of keeping not only Republic officers, but witnesses alive?
The guard returned an hour later, briefcase obviously heavier.
"Found the same things in the other two ventilation systems; these didn't go off."
"Means he triggered the one himself."
"Not quite. We found this spice addict near the center; guy told us some freak in a robe offered him enough credits to buy half the bars on Coruscant to press a button if he saw said freak being dragged into it."
"Took him up on the offer, I take it?"
"We're searching the money for traces."
"No psychometrics?"
"Could've laced the stuff with something nasty; we're keeping the Jedi out of this as much as possible."
"Got his ship, too," he continued. "Hazardous Materials team's checking it out."
"He's still on-world?"
"Nope. Some snob came whining to us, saying some guy in a robe stole his ship."
"And he didn't tell us earlier why?"
"He didn't exactly buy it through legitimate means."
The following silence, both heads bowed, was broken by a sharp knock at the door. The guard opened it, letting a haggard technician burst through.
"Got a hit on a comlink we bugged."
"Do tell."
"One of that Nax guy's friends. We traced him to Nax, found him when he took a vacation to Coruscant, then messed with his comlink while he was passed out in a pool of his own vomit a few months ago."
"Lovely. What's the message?"
"'Got out. Meeting still on. Myrkr, three days'. Voice was a perfect mach for our boy."
Jirs nodded.
"Get two teams together. I want the last location of the comlink stormed, as well as Myrkr.
The technician nodded, saluted, and left.
--
The Jedi Temple
"Dishonorable kill. I can't stand men of that sort."
"That's the part that bothers you? That he used poison?"
"Yes, why?"
"Would she be less dead if he was courteous enough to use a lightsaber?"
"Well, no, but…"
Jedi Master Yorumi and Jedi Knight Tikka always bickered over these sorts of things, and were preparing for an especially fantastic argument when a guard arrived. After he explained the situation, the pair looked at one another.
"Should we use Jedi, or standard troops?" asked Tikka.
"A combination. His skill is Jedi-hunting, but ordinary troops would not last long against him. A four-man team, composed of two Special Forces men and two Jedi, should go after the comlink, a ten-man team, with the same balance, to Myrkr."
"Awfully large team."
"Awfully large planet, particularly with nothing more precise to work with."
"Leave us," continued Yorumi. "Retrieve seven of your best. We shall rouse our own."
The guard bowed and walked briskly out.