CHAPTER SEVEN – FIRE, BURN AND CAULDRON, BUBBLE
AHSOKA
"They must have left directly after killing Officer Kassel," Tandin says in the corner of the spaceport. "Everyone's identification cleared. I'm sorry to say this, Lux, but if they're not on the planet the investigation is out of my hands."
"It's not out of the Jedi's," I inform him, smiling and pulling a credit chip from my pocket. "Lux, I hope you have enough for a ticket. We're going to find out where they went, and then it's time for a field trip."
…
"Okay, so they left Ryloth because they've caused a witch hunt. How they're leaving Onderon because again, they've caused a witch hunt. So where do they go now?"
"If I had to guess?" Lux suggests. "Somewhere they aren't likely to start a witch hunt."
Words cannot describe how much I want to punch Lux right now.
Luckily Tandin intervenes and holds up a datapad. "I have the schedule for all the flights that took off after Officer Kassel's death. I'm putting out an alert to immigration officials for all the planets, but I'd rather you two not wait for that information to get through the backlog and have our murderous friends kill another bachelor. So as Senator Bonteri said, where would these two not be likely to start a witch hunt?"
"Dathomir?"
"You're not funny, Lux."
He brushes off my comment. "In all seriousness, they would pick a world where their victims wouldn't be missed. Did any of the flights leave for Hutt Space?"
"That would be counterproductive. Sure, Hutt Space may be lawless but they're looking for somewhere with a little more safety and infrastructure. Somewhere they could just disappear instead of having to move planets."
"So we're looking for a planet where people will go missing so a single bachelor won't be missed, no one will notice our Bonnie and Clyde, and that has a readily available crowd for them to disappear into at any given time." Lux rubs his chin. "What kind of planet would that be?"
The perfect planet hits me like a ton of duracrete. "Think about it, Lux."
Tandin knows it too. "A commercial vessel bound for that destination took off two hours ago and there should be one boarding as we speak."
I hold my hand out and Lux deposits his credit card in my hand. I zoom over to the nearest ticket counter and hand the card to the seller.
"Two for your next flight to Coruscant. I don't care what class they're in, as long as they're open."
…
The two seats left on the transport are right next to each other, which is more than I expected. They're also in economy class, which confuses Lux a little. And what's more, he's seated right in front of a small child.
"Not a fan of kids?" I whisper after the kid kicks his seatback.
"I like kids," he protests. "I just don't like being kicked in the back."
"Not many do," I lean back in my own seat. "Okay, back to seriousness. Tandin put an alert out to security, but we both know that immigration officials can't stop every blue Twi'lek and blonde human who walks through their doors. What's the plan of attack?"
"Warn all the bachelors on Coruscant?" he nixes the idea. "That's wishful thinking if I ever heard it. If anything we'll drive them even deeper into hiding. Actually, the first thing we need to do is make sure the police droids don't alert the media to them. The more complacent these two are, the better."
"And once they're complacent, maybe we could lure them into a trap once we find out what they want," I realize. "Good idea. Now we just have to find out what they want."
Lux winces as the kid kicks the back of his seat again. "Like all serial burglars, I think the promise of money or valuables would be a sufficient lure."
"No, these two are different than the others. They take essentials and novelties instead of valuables, and they only take enough of them to last until they get to the next house. They don't act like normal serial burglars; they're more like … migrants."
"Migrants don't operate on deadlines unless they're looking for work, which these two aren't. We already established they're trying to meet one." he points out.
"Maybe that's why they're traveling."
Lux thinks for a while, then decides to cry uncle.
"How is a deadline forcing them to migrate?"
"I think they want a house."
This time Lux can't hide the skepticism in his voice. "You think they want a house?"
The pieces start to snap together in my mind. It makes sense. Young, single men with unstable lifestyles are more likely to move without giving proper notice than anyone else. That's why Bonnie and Clyde use a ruse instead of forcing the door – they don't want to damage the house. It's a perfect scheme: make it look like the tenant skipped town and take over his home.
"All the victims were unstable except for Saw," I remind him. "They let him live because they realized he had a family and would be missed."
"And after every attack, something goes wrong or they find something they don't like and move on." Lux confirms. "They're working up to better houses; Saw doesn't live in a dump like Rassk's place."
"They'll never find a perfect home, so they're never going to stop killing. And the closer they get to whatever deadline they're working toward, the more people are going to die."
The poor guy across the aisle decides to speak up, apparently having heard everything. "Deadline? These loony bin killers you're chasing are terrorizing the planet because they're trying to meet a due date?"
Lux's eyes widen.
"Uh-oh, I know that look." I worry. "That's the look of 'I suddenly have a plan'."
"I don't have a plan," Lux admits. "I have the answer."
"The answer?"
"I think Bonnie had another reason to wear that baggy shirt. Can I borrow your comlink?"
"You can't use a comlink on a transport, Lux."
He swears under his breath. "Of course. When we land, I need her to pull all OB-GYN records for Twi'lek/human couples in the last nine months.
"Lux, OB-GYN? That's for -."
"I know," Lux interrupts. "I think Bonnie might be pregnant."
…
For the rest of the flight it's just me, Lux, the kid who's kicking the back of his seat, and our seatmate who watches far too many crime procedurals.
Once we're off the flight, it's a completely different story. Lux grabs the comlink and calls for Barriss to pull the OB-GYN records while I convince our seatmate and any other concerned onlookers that no, there's absolutely nothing to worry about.
…
Barriss buzzes in on the comm. "I've pulled the medical records for human/Twi'lek couples in the last nine months, and there are many of them. Do you have any more criteria I can use to narrow the search?"
"We know the mother is human," I say.
A pause. "That helps," Barriss says. "Only a quarter of the pregnancies are being carried by a human, but there are still a lot of names."
"Their names. Do you think it could be short for something?" Lux clears his throat. "Barriss, are any of the mothers named Mary?"
"Where did that come from?" I ask.
"Mar, Mary." Lux shrugs. "It's not too big a stretch."
"There isn't a mother named Mary in the system."
"According to Saw her boyfriend calls her 'Mar.' Try Marley, Amara, Margaery…"
"None of those match," Barriss says. "But there is a Maria."
I feel a thrill of hope. "What do we know about her?
"Maria Reyes, age nineteen, is the daughter of a human mechanic originally from Saleucami. After her mother's death her father remarried a Twi'lek and they moved to Ryloth. The family business isn't the best, but that's what happens when you're a human on Ryloth who's known to use stolen parts, which Maria might be procuring considering her criminal record. Her father hires locals to work in the shop."
"Has Maria reported to work since the murders started?" Lux asks.
There's a pause as Barriss presumably pulls the records. "She has not, but that's nothing new. Maria doesn't work with the mechanics, she dates them. From the number of men fired recently, her father doesn't approve."
"Did any of the former employees happen to be named 'Jack?'"
"Checking records…yes. Jack Vierson, age 21, is a Twi'lek who was fired from the garage a month before the murders started, for unprofessionalism. He was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon when he was sixteen and tried to beat a man with a lead pipe, but he was released on his eighteenth birthday and got the job at the garage shortly thereafter. He was evicted from his apartment one week before the murders started and before you ask, yes. He is the father of Maria's baby."
Lux's jaw drops. "It's them!"
"Barriss, could either of them reasonably afford rent for your average apartment?"
"No, they're both underwater financially. The garage doesn't pay much, and – oh. The first victim, wasn't his name Rassk? It looks like he was hired at the garage around the same time Jack was."
With that goes our last doubt that Bonnie and Clyde are, in fact, Jack and Maria.
"Barriss, when is the baby due?"
"In two months."
There's our deadline. "Do they have credit cards, savings accounts, anything we could use to track them financially?"
"They haven't used them much after leaving Ryloth; I'm assuming they're using whatever stolen cash they have from the victims. The only recent purchases have been transport tickets from the Onderon spaceport to Coruscant. If anything else comes up, you two will be the first to know," she says and ends the communication.
I take my comlink from Lux's hands.
"We need to send Jack's and Maria's pictures to Onderon. If Saw can make an ID, then we have enough to arrest."
DEX'S DINER
"Two, please."
Dex looks up from his work to behold the couple standing in the foyer of his restaurant: a blue Twi'lek with his arm slung around a slight, visibly pregnant human woman.
"How are you doing today?" he asks, gesturing to an open booth and for the couple to sit down.
"We're doing well. Yourself?" Maria asks as they seat themselves and pick up their menus.
"I'm doing great!" He leans on the counter. "My waitress will be over in a minute to take care of you but until she does, how about a hot chocolate for the mother-to-be, on the house?"
Maria smiles. "Thank you."
Dex sends the hot chocolate over with the waitress droid, who takes the couple's orders. Once she's gone, Jack leans across the table.
"What do you think?"
"Not the Besalisk," Maria decides, sipping her drink. "A nice guy like that who gives a free drink to a pregnant customer – it would be worse than that apothecary. Everyone here seems to love him."
Jack nods agreement. "The patrons would definitely be more promising."
Maria looks around. You would think it would be easier to find loners in Galactic City.
"When we pick the next one," she whispers, "I want you to let me do it."
Jack chews his lip. "You're pregnant."
"Pregnant and furious," she agrees. "But if you were so opposed to it, why did you let me hold the gun?"
The gun: an old, worn-out slugthrower he'd handed to her before they entered. She'd discovered its beauty in the policeman's house before Jack shakily finished the job.
"It's exciting," she says. "When I use it, it makes me feel alive."
Jack's eyes widen. For as long as he can remember all he's wanted is for someone to understand. To understand the feeling that you do this or you die, and I don't want to die.
And, like a blessing from the gods, Mar doesn't just understand – she feels more than he does.
Man, can I pick them or what?
Maria fingers the slugthrower holstered at his side. "I could tell without looking that this isn't some toy. It has some killing attached to it," she purrs. "I want to do it justice. And you know what they say about the family that slays together.
"We're staying together," she smiles. "The slaying part is just a plus."
At least our heroes have a good lead on Jack and Maria, but finding two people in Galactic City is no laughing matter.
Thank you to RoseRavenclaw, Johnt12345, TessaFred, and Starwarshobbitfics for your reviews. And speaking of which, please review!
Until next time,
LS
