Annabeth Chase

It was in the middle of the night when her communicator started beeping frantically, violently waking her up from what had already been a light sleep. With blurry eyes, the young blond woman groped around on her nightstand until she found a small disk, about the size of her hand, and pressed the activation rune.

A five-inch tall holographic image of her supervisor, a tall and athletic human male by the name of Agent Castellan, appeared. Despite his young years, an ugly scar marred his otherwise handsome features.

"Sir?" she croaked, squinting as the cold light assaulted her retina. A whiff of the stench her hair emanated struck her nose harshly, and Annabeth scowled. She had showered twice, but it hadn't been enough.

"Agent Chase, you've got a case," he announced grimly.

"Okay, can this wait until tomorrow? I've only gotten five hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours," she complained, already knowing that she wouldn't be able to just turn around and continue sleeping.

"Agent, a Senator has suddenly fallen ill. Foul play might be involved," he explained the reason for his call.

Instantly, the exhaustion that clouded her mind seemed to fade, and she felt her pulse quicken.

"Is he dead? Who?" she asked.

"Senator Dare of Onderon, and as of ten minutes ago, he was still alive," he explained. "The paramedics brought him to Sentaina Medical Center. Listen, Annabeth, Hightower wants us on top of this. Republic Security is already canvassing the residence, and I've sent Malcolm to supervise them. I want you with the Senator. You know the drill. Do not let him out of your sight. You record anyone who has had contact with him, every word the doctors say about him and his condition. You record what treatments they employ, and in case of death, I want you to lock down the time and circumstances of his passing. Keep me posted."

Annabeth grunted; her orders had come from the very highest authority, and that meant that every word she uttered would be second-guessed and judged by the Republic's highest-ranking prosecutors and, well, the highest authority himself. That meant she would face, in her mind, an unreasonable amount of paperwork, and her already growing pile of open investigations would only become more daunting.

"Fine, any obvious foul play?" she asked.

"According to Republic Security, that is as of now undetermined," he announced. "I will forward you all currently available information to your PDA. Double time, Agent. We are on the clock."

Annabeth nodded, yawned, and ended the call.

With another deep sigh, she finally rose from her bed and hastily pulled on black suit pants and a blazer. After that, she put on her arming belt with her service pistol, spare power packs, a compact flashlight, and her handcuffs. Her duty weapon was the GR-9 Plasma Blaster, a higher-yield blaster pistol built for law enforcement and military use. The only drawback was that it made maintenance of the weapon a more time-consuming endeavor. What made it unique were the counter-rotating charge coils that increased the penetrating power considerably, rendering most lighter and lower-tier sets of protective equipment combat-ineffective. The blaster pistol was a black weapon with a spartan exterior design, with the weapon's inner workings hidden away in a plastic and metal frame, only broken by gas vents lining the front of the pistol around the muzzle in case of overheating.

Stretching her arms wide, Annabeth looked out of her bedroom window. She lived in an upper-level apartment in a residential spire on Coruscant, offering a spectacular view of the city's never-ending skyline, especially at night. Despite spending nearly a decade on the ecumenopolis, she still marveled at its grandeur, having grown up in Aldera.

Her residence was considered high-end due to its proximity to the Senate, which was located on Coruscant's surface. Even in the early hours of the morning, the sky was bustling with speeders and other spacecraft, resembling glowing beads sliding down invisible strings. The iconic dome of the Galactic Senate dominated the distant skyline. As a child, Annabeth had fantasized about serving in the Senate, even becoming the chancellor herself. But now, to her it was just another office building. It was her office building to be precise.

After grabbing her badge and securing her golden blond curls in a ponytail, Annabeth hurriedly left her apartment, nearly colliding with her Twi'lek neighbors, who quickly became more cordial upon seeing her blaster and badge.

"Apologies," Annabeth hurriedly offered before dashing towards the Turbo lift, descending a few floors, and sprinting out onto a windy parking deck. It was a warm and clear night.

Dozens of speeders were parked in the alcoves. Annabeth's sleek black, unmarked law enforcement four-seater stood at the far end, equipped with a shield generator and communication suite. She quickly sat in the driver's seat and powered up her speeder.

After programming her destination into the navigation system, she activated the hidden lightbars, filling the parking bay with the red and blue strobes of her calling. Moments later, she sped off, steering clear of official traffic lanes and surpassing the maximum allowed velocity, weaving through the glittering spires with the throttle fully open.

Her route took her past the Senate building, and her position granted her a shortcut, allowing her to fly through the Senate building's safety zone without encountering any defenses or interceptors.

The trip to the hospital took no more than twenty minutes, and she finally spotted the large hangar bay with ambulances and Republic Security cruisers parked inside. Carefully parking her speeder between two others, she climbed out and made her way to the double doors leading to the emergency room.

Two uniformed officers from Republic Security, armed with shock batons and blasters, challenged her at the doors. One was a tall, pale male with a gentle expression, while the other was a short, dark-skinned girl with striking amber eyes.

"Good evening, Ma'am," one of the officers greeted her. "Are you Agent Chase from the Senate Guard?"

"I am, Officer," she replied, holding up her badge and ID. "Is Senator Dare still in the ER?" she asked.

"No, Agent. They moved him to intensive care. Doesn't look good," the girl responded.

"What are your names?" Annabeth inquired.

"I'm Officer Hazel Levesque," the girl announced, snapping to attention.

"Officer Cadet Frank Zang, Ma'am," the large male replied gruffly.

"Do you have a list of everyone who entered the ER since the patient's arrival?" Annabeth asked.

"Yes, Agent," the supervising officer explained, patting a datapad in her pocket. "At least since our arrival. We have security cameras recording all entrances and exits, so you should be able to gather the rest."

"Thank you, Officer," Annabeth replied with a forced smile.

Stifling a yawn proceeded through the double doors and into the Emergency Room.

It was packed, with patients of all shapes and colors lying on gurneys or occupying a crowded waiting room. Nurses and doctors, mostly humans and Twi'lek, along with an assortment of medical droids were rushing from the examination room to the examination room. The demographics of the personnel weren't surprising, it very much mirrored the population around the hospital.

What little space was free was occupied by uniformed members of republic security, dozens of them along with a dozen more security droids choking the already clogged passageways.

Annabeth's gaze swept the hallways, looking for the officer in charge, and finally spotted him. It was a short and stocky Bothan male in the twilight years of his career. A pretty Rutian Twi'lek, the head nurse, if her bossy demeanor was anything to go by, was arguing with the Officer, apparently oblivious to the dead look in the Bothan's eyes.

"Captain," she greeted the Bothan.

"It's Ka'sta, Captain Ka'sta," the Officer introduced himself. "You came quicker than I expected. Then, I guess a Senator almost biting the dust will get the powers to be excited."

Annabeth shot a finger gun at him, "You got it. Does anyone in this shithole have a cup of coffee?"

The Bothan cracked a smile, showing off his canine teeth. "No sleep?"

"Not much," she admitted.

Ka'sta pointed at a security droid. "You, get Agent Chase some Coffee!"

Then he paused and sniffed the air. "What is that..."

"Spent much of the evening crawling through a trash dump," Annabeth admitted. "Just can't get rid of it."

The Bothan looked at her with new won respect. "Ah, the detective's guilty pleasure. You don't get to call yourself an investigator if you haven't."

Captain Ka'sta laughed out loud, reminding her of an owl with pneumonia coughing.

"So, Captain. Can I have a quick SitRep?" she asked.

"Could you get these people out of my ER?" the nurse snapped at Annabeth, apparently realizing that she might hold some sort of authority.

"No,..." Annabeth said slowly. "Not right now, now run along. This isn't for your ears anyway."

Once the nurse had scuffled off the Captain snorted. "I got my forensics people at his residence along with additional uniforms. Mr. Dare hasn't left his home in the twenty-four hours before falling ill so we are tracking down and detaining anyone who entered his home in that time period. Once we have we will pull the clock backward and explore additional suspects. I have twenty uniforms down here, five more guarding the Senator up in ICU. We were asked to keep our presence as low as possible up there for obvious reasons, I decided to agree. At least until your people take over the protection detail."

"What about his private security staff?" Annabeth inquired.

The man shrugged. "Private contractors, Ma'am. We have them all detained as well."

"Any suspects?" she asked.

"None yet, Ma'am. About the media...," he began.

"Complete blackout," Annabeth decided on the spot. "I don't want our assassin, if there was one that is, to have confirmed that his plan failed."

The Captain looked at her with a pained expression. "About that,..."

"You told them?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course not, I'm not a cretin," Ka'sta snorted. "No, his daughter, Rachel Elisabeth Dare, is a Journalist. She isn't a suspect as of now and I have no way of legally stopping her from going public..."

Annabeth pinched the bridge of the nose in exasperation and then gratefully accepted a cop of steaming dark liquid from a droid. Annabeth took a sip and sighed in contentment as the bitter liquid flowed down her throat. "She hasn't yet though?"

"No Ma'am, she is upstairs with her father," the Captain confirmed. "Would you like to go up?"

"I would," Annabeth confirmed. "Better put a lid on Ms. Rachel Dare."

"Go up, I will call ahead. Just follow the signs."

Annabeth mock saluted and hurried off in the indicated direction, caught an empty elevator, and keyed the button labeled. "Multi-Species Intensive Care Unit."

Once the lift was on the way Annabeth pulled a holo communicator from her pocket and opened a channel. A heartbeat later a holographic image of Luke appeared in her palm.

"Agent Chase!" he greeted her brightly. "You are calling in early!"

"Yes," Annabeth confirmed and gave him a quick preliminary update. "Have you sent Senate Guard down here to watch the Senator until he is stable enough to transport?"

"No, not yet," he admitted.

"Well, send them now. Onsight Republic Security looks competent enough, but they have on occasion been compromised."

"No problem," Luke said. "I will dispatch them momentarily. Should we get the Jedi in on this? They make for superb bodyguards. Besides, we might have some Sith involvement here. It wouldn't be the first time they off-ed a Senator. It's up to you, you are the on-sight Agent."

Annabeth bit her lip. It was true, they were. It was the main reason why the Senate Guard turned to the Order every single time there was an increased threat level.

However, Annabeth had, what she knew was a rather unpopular view on the matter. The Jedi knights undeniably had their advantages and uses, but they were in her mind rather ill-suited to clandestine activities. Months, even years of methodical investigative work had been wasted because just a group of Jedi just happened to turn up and make a mess of things. Besides, Jedi were notoriously bad at following clear and simple instructions and tended to think they knew everything better than everyone else. She knew for a fact they didn't.

Just then the doors slid open and a small family began to step into the elevator.

"Sorry guys, you'll need to get the next one," Annabeth announced apologetically.

The man opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to take note of her badge and gun. "So sorry," Annabeth added sincerely, smiling apologetically.

"No problem, Ma'am," he announced and the trio backed off.

"Since when can you play nice?" Luke asked sardonically.

"When they are the public. A hard negative on the Jedi, kindly keep them away from my operation," Annabeth decided. "They are a tad bit too independent for my taste."

"Oh, I forgot," Luke remarked. "You don't like them."

"I appreciate them for what they are," Annabeth argued truthfully. "And understand their limitations."

"Your choice, Agent," Luke conceded. "Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"Do you have any updates on the other fronts?" Annabeth inquired.

"Apparently four of the Senator's household servants are unaccounted for according to Malcolm, but we will know more in a few hours."

"Very well, Chase out," Annabeth replied and stowed away her holo-disk just as the doors opened.

Annabeth followed the signs to another set of security doors and rang on the doorbell. "Intensive Care here?" a voice asked.

"Agent Chase," Annabeth replied, rolling her eyes. "From the Senate Guard."

It took a few moments but finally, the door opened and her path was instantly blocked by four Republic Security droids.

"ID please," one of the droids demanded with their usual persistent drone.

Annabeth dutifully held up her badge and let the droids confirm her identity before passing into the much quieter Intensive care ward. The soft sound of beeping heart monitors filled the air, joining the persuasive scent of counter septics.

The patients rested hidden away between screen doors but the group of heavily armed Officer's rather effectively told him what room she would find her victim.

Before actually entering the room she popped in at the doctor's lounge, got a quick update on the patient's condition, and exchanged a few words with the officers that were standing by.

With her hand on the handle, she paused for one moment and sighed deeply before sliding it open.

Only two people were inside the room, one was the patient, a middle-aged man wearing a hospital gown. He was intubated, hooked up to the monitors, and had a bunch of tubes disappearing into her body. The wheezing gasp of the external respirators filled the air with an uncomfortable tension.

A young woman with curly red hair and a pale complexion was sitting next to the bed. It was fairly obvious that she had been crying.

Annabeth knocked on the doorframe and the girl looked up, her emerald green eyes giving Annabeth a long look over. "You are an Inspector from Republic Security I take it?" she asked tiredly.

"No, Ms. Dare. I am with the Senate Guard."

"Senate Guard?" the girl asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you people run around in blue armor or something?"

Annabeth cracked a small smile. "Not all of us do. I am from the part that dresses more casually."

"I did not know that," Rachel admitted, seeming somewhat bothered about this.

"We do not exactly advertise it," Annabeth assured her.

"So you are like a spy?" she asked.

Annabeth's smile widened a bit, she shouldn't be surprised about all the questions. The woman was a journalist after all. "Something along those lines. Though I prefer Investigator."

"Oh, I see," the girl said.

"How is he doing?" Annabeth asked, though she already knew.

"According to the doctors he is in respiratory failure. Apparently, this one was some toxin that only became toxic as it got metabolized and broken down into its components, hence the delayed effect. Any idea who did this?" the woman asked.

Annabeth sighed deeply. "We are just really getting started. Interviewing people, gathering evidence. Letting the nerds from Forensics do their thing. I am sure you've watched crime dramas..."

Rachel nodded slowly.

"Ms. Dare, I know this goes against the grain but it is important that you do not go public with anything as of now. Otherwise, you might jeopardize the investigation and put your father at further risk."

"You think someone might try to kill him again if that is what happened?" Rachel asked.

Annabeth smiled coldly. "I always assume someone is trying to kill my charge, Ms. Dare."

"Probably smart."

"So, can you imagine anyone who might wish to kill your father?"

Rachel laughed drily. "Where to start? The crime syndicates from our homeworld? The political opposition? The Sith Empire? Any one of the affairs my father has burnt? Am I a suspect?"

When Annabeth didn't answer the woman snorted. "Of course, I am a suspect. Next, you are going to ask me where I was today?"

Annabeth shrugged. "Everyone is," Annabeth lied. "Mind if I join you?"

"Yeah sure," Rachel replied and Annabeth claimed one of the vacant chairs and yawned deeply.

"Thank you. So,..." Annabeth began and smiled sheepishly. "Mind walking me through your day?" she asked and made a show of pulling out a datapad.

"I should really get a lawyer for this, right?" Rachel asked.

Annabeth looked at her blankly, letting her stormy gray eyes bore into the woman. "It would be advisable," Annabeth said, this was a journalist so there was no point in pulling the "We are just trying to exclude you," narrative with her, she would certainly know better. While people tended to grossly overestimate their own abilities under interrogation in this case it might ruin what report Annabeth had already built.

Perhaps despite her own better judgment, Rachel proceeded to summarize her day, getting up early, heading to work, and working right up until she was informed of her father's hospitalization. Annabeth saw no deception in the young woman, and her anguish felt real. Still, she dutifully wrote every small detail down, interrupting only if something needed clarification.

Annabeth kept her voice soft and as unconfrontational as possible but she quickly got the feeling that apart from helping establish a timeline she knew nothing really relevant. Apart from that, she thought her father might be having an affair with at least a maid and his secretary. This juicy piece of information aside Annabeth quickly got the impression that little of what Rachel knew was useful.

"I will check in with the doctors," Annabeth announced gently. "Can I get you something to drink or eat?"

"Something to drink?"

Annabeth smiled. "I'll be right back."

Dear ladies and gentlemen,

here is a freak project of mine that I popped out. Thanks to my ADHD I managed to hyperfocus this stuff to paper so here we are. Leave a review if you please.

Henry Locker over and out.