Coruscant, Jedi Temple

Day Nine, mid-morning

Commander Fox stood outside the Jedi Council room, waiting for one of the Jedi to come out through the currently-closed doors. He didn't mind waiting, because he couldn't make any real progress in solving this case until he talked to them.

In fact, after last night, there was no chance he or Lieutenant Divo could make any progress until he talked to them. Fox needed a Jedi's help. More specifically, the help of a psychometric Jedi. More specifically yet, a certain Kiffar named Quinlan Vos.

But, as usual, Fox had no idea where General Vos was; and, as was also usual at random intervals, the Kiffar was not answering Fox's calls. One of the Jedi's many annoying traits was a lack of communication. He had a habit of vanishing off the face of the planet without notifying Fox or any of his men, and then staying absent and utterly radio-silent for anywhere from two days to two weeks.

Which was why Fox was now at the Jedi Temple, trying to track him down. He could have wasted time sending messages, but things tended to get done faster and more efficiently when he spoke to people face-to-face.

Several minutes ago, a Temple Guard had told him that a Jedi Master would be available to speak with him shortly, and Fox had leaned against a wall to wait. Whether he liked it or not, the next step in the case involved getting Vos onboard.

The Kiffar had worked with the CG on several criminal cases in the past. He also, somehow, managed to get along with the CSF, who were not fond of working with outsiders – the Senate Guard most of all, but outsiders in general. Even their contacts were relatively suspect. But they got along with Vos.

Mysteriously, Vos even got along with Lieutenant Divo – who, while he didn't detest Jedi the way he did politicians, also wasn't overly fond of them.

Fox himself, however, did not get along well with Vos. The Kiffar was one of the most annoying people he'd ever met, and that was saying something. He was certainly the most annoying Jedi he'd ever met.

This was partly because Vos refused to behave like a normal Jedi. He poked and prodded and investigated and made a nuisance of himself. Where the other Jedi usually had the courtesy not to probe – in fact, they had the polite habit of pretending not to notice at all – when things were wrong, Vos. . .

Well. Simply put, Vos did not.

He also refused to follow protocol in the matter of – anything and everything, really, including flimsiwork; but most particularly, Fox was irked by how the Kiffar refused to follow protocol when it came to informing the authorities during a case.

He had a terrible habit of working alone, trusting no one unless he had no choice except to trust them, taking unnecessary risks, and going behind Fox's back to finish off cases. Sure, it had been somewhat of a relief when Fox woke up one morning to hear that a Rodian-hating serial killer was behind bars, and to discover that all the evidence had been neatly documented and sent to him – the one time Vos didn't hate flimsiwork, apparently, was when he was wrapping up a case – but it was also nerve-wracking, dangerous for the Jedi himself, insulting to the CG and the CSF, and absolutely unnecessary.

The Coruscant Guard had some of the best-trained troopers in the galaxy, and none of the other Jedi scorned their help. But it seemed that Vos did.

Either that, or he didn't want to risk their lives. . . That was ridiculous, of course. Fox's men could hold their own. Even Vos should know that.

Maybe he did know that, and didn't care? Fox supposed that it was possible, however unlikely, that the Jedi considered clones to be useless. It was possible that he considered them to be useful, but not in his line of work. It was even more possible that Vos just didn't think at all.

Glancing at his chronometer – it had now been eight minutes since the Temple Guard told him 'a few minutes' – Fox mentally noted that it was only fair to admit that the Kiffar was helpful . . . at times . . . even when he was being annoying. Even when he was appearing in Fox's office at random, unannounced intervals; or teaching the younger troopers to hotwire speeders; or trying to bribe Fox with caf, of all things.

Of course, Vos and Fox's relationship had been rocky from the very start. Shortly after being assigned to Coruscant, Fox had been split off from his men while racing down a narrow, low-level alley after a Pantoran drug-runner. Just as he was closing in, he'd been jumped by six men. After shooting one of them, he'd gotten slashed across the collarbone with a knife, and then taken a beating which ended with a kick to the neck that left him reeling and breathless.

The drug-runners had cuffed Fox to the nearest pipe, and were discussing whether to kill him or sell him to the fighting rings, when Quinlan Vos descended out of nowhere. Literally. Fox was never going to be able to forget the way the Jedi had decided to jump from a height of eight meters, without a weapon, to attack five thugs, instead of calling for backup. If one of his men had done what Vos did, Fox would have given him fresher duty for a month. Of course, the Jedi was not one of Fox's men, and although he worked with the CG, officially he was not under their authority in any way.

There was also the small fact that, at the time of the rescue, Fox hadn't been fully conscious of what was going on. So, when Quinlan pulled him to his feet without warning and before the commander was fully aware that the Kiffar was an ally, Fox's self-defense reflexes had kicked in, and he'd slammed his cuffed hands into the Jedi's face, breaking his nose very efficiently.

Hours after the two of them had managed to stagger back to headquarters, get treated, and finally get released from the CG's medbay, Fox had actually witnessed his CMO snickering into his caf at the idea of his commander breaking a Jedi's nose. Hypo had always had an odd sense of humor.

Checking his chrono again, Fox absently wondered if any other Jedi Knights in the GAR were as difficult as the Coruscant Guard's was. He didn't know all that many Jedi, really, but his batchmates thought the galaxy of their generals. Or at least, they thought the galaxy of them as people, if not as military leaders.

Which reminded him. . .

Fox took out his datapad and checked the communication channel he shared with his batchmates. Then, opening the Jedi tally, he glanced through it for updates.

As it turned out, Monnk now owed his life to General Fisto nine times. It had been eight, a couple of days ago. The 442nd must have been in another battle.

And Wolffe – currently, he was claiming that he'd lost count of how many times his general had saved his life, which probably meant that Fisto had the lead over Koon right now and Wolffe didn't want to admit it.

Bly was prejudiced in Secura's favor and was most likely giving inaccurate reports. If she'd really saved Bly six times this week, well, that didn't say much for Bly's competency, did it?

Cody, though, was in the negatives again, meaning he'd saved Kenobi's life as many times as Kenobi had saved his, and more. His current tally, which had been at negative one not three hours ago, now showed a negative two.

Gree had an unusual tally. He would save Luminara's life, and then she would save his, and neither of them ever seemed to get solidly ahead of the other. In fact, the most commonly seen number on their tally was a zero.

As for Fox himself. . .? Well, yesterday, after realizing that Vos had been around for several months, he had finally added the Kiffar's name to the tally, along with a negative three and a message: He's not officially assigned to us. I've worked directly with him seven times. He saved my life twice, I've saved his five times. One of those times was because he almost got run over by a speeder on a landing pad. I leave you to work out the details.

Now, there were two more messages, which had only recently arrived. From Wolffe: Is he a padawan? Or maybe he was just knighted?

From Cody: Doubtful, given the CG's listed as not having a general. Might be secret ops.

With another glance at the still-closed Council Room door, Fox typed, He's not a padawan. He's a full-fledged, completely reckless Jedi Knight.

A minute later, a new message from Wolffe popped up. Name?

Fox told him, even though Wolffe could have looked it up himself.

It wasn't even ten seconds before Cody replied with a simple, My condolences.

Great. Cody, who had the infamous Kenobi to deal with, was sending Fox his condolences.

Fox sighed and typed, I don't want to know how you know or what you know.

Just as well, Cody answered, about five seconds later. You don't currently have the level of clearance to read up on the mission I'm referring to.

Now Fox really didn't want to know. He told Cody as much and put away the datapad just as the Temple Guard finally leaned forward to open the door.

Commander Fox had asked to speak with General Yoda, or Windu, but it was Kit Fisto who sauntered out into the hall.

When the Nautolan general caught sight of the commander, he gave him a beaming grin, as if Fox was a close friend whom he hadn't seen in a very long time.

The commander saluted. "General Fisto."

"Commander Fox!" Stars, Fisto even sounded happy to see him. "How can I assist you?"

"I was hoping to speak with General Yoda, sir."

"Ah. Well, unfortunately, you may be waiting a long time." Fisto gestured at the closed door. "He and Master Windu are finishing up a last-minute briefing before they meet with several important dignitaries –" He glanced at his chrono, and his black eyes widened. "Whom, I might add, are on their way here at this very moment. Might I suggest we make ourselves scarce?"

Far be it from Fox to disregard his advice. He followed the Nautolan general down a corridor to a small side room filled with plants and flowers and running water.

"Now, Commander," said Fisto. "Is there anything I can do for you? You are welcome to wait here, of course, or to come back at a later time, but Master Yoda will be occupied with the delegation for some hours."

Fox considered. General Fisto was a Council member, after all, so he probably had as good a chance as any of the others when it came to where the kriff Vos had taken himself off to now.

"Well, General," Fox said. "I intended to ask if Quinlan Vos is still on-planet. And, if he isn't available, I'll need to request the help of another Jedi."

"Hmm," Fisto said. "Quinlan left Coruscant three days ago."

"I see. Do you have any idea when he'll be back?"

"One moment." Fisto pulled a datapad out of his robes and scrolled down. "He told me something about it earlier – ah, yes, here. . . Hmm. How typical."

The commander tilted his head in a silent question.

Kit Fisto shrugged, then said, "I shall quote what he said. 'No idea when I'll be back. But if you don't hear from me after a week, presume me to be dead – and hopefully buried.' "

Fox sighed.

"Yes," agreed the Nautolan, putting his datapad away. "I must say, that message was even less helpful than his usual updates. But I expect he means he should be back within a week, as it is. Do you need a Jedi sooner, Commander?"

"Ideally, within the day, sir." Commander Fox folded his arms. "This is a high-priority, high-security investigation, and the trails are turning cold."

"Perhaps I can assist you," suggested Fisto. "I am on-planet for the next several days."

"Thank you, sir, but we already had two other Jedi attempt to help us. At this stage of the investigation, I specifically need a psychometrist. Do you know any who are available?"

"Any who are . . . No, Commander, certainly not. There are only a few psychometrists in the entire Order."

Fox looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know psychometry was that rare."

"Oh, it is quite rare among Jedi. There are two other psychometrists currently at the Temple, but they have only just become padawans."

"Ah," Fox said. "Well – I wouldn't want a kid helping with this, sir, and I doubt you'd allow it. It won't be a pleasant job."

"Oh?"

"No, sir. I need someone to read a weapon."

Fisto blinked and shook his head. "Ah. Then you are correct in your assumption, Commander. The Jedi do not usually allow padawans to read weapons."

"Makes sense." Fox tapped the fingers of one hand against his kama. "I imagine their reading a murder weapon is absolutely out of the question."

"A murder weapon?" The Jedi blinked, emphatically. "Definitely out of the question, Commander. In fact, even Master psychometrics are heavily discouraged from reading weapons that were used to commit murder. It is not forbidden, but . . ."

"Understood," said Fox, deciding not to mention that Quinlan Vos had read several murder weapons for the CG before. "General Fisto, we have had two hundred and fifty-six personnel involved in this investigation, and we're getting nowhere. I expect you've been dealing with requests from senators for Jedi guards."

"Yes, we have." General Fisto stroked thoughtfully at his chin. "In relation to the murder of Senator Hilt and his retinue. Was this morning's murder the eighth?"

"The ninth, General. Trouble is, it's not just Hilt's retinue being targeted at this point."

"I heard," said Fisto, frowning. "It was another senator."

"Yes, sir," said Fox. "And that's only made the situation worse. We think there may have been some romantic attachment between Hilt and the woman who was killed, but we don't know for sure; so we can't exactly reassure the other senators that they aren't going to be next."

Fisto nodded his understanding.

"The problem with senators," said Fox, a bit surprised at himself for actually complaining, but also not caring, "is that they spend a lot of time covering their tracks, so it's hard to find anything without the proper permissions and a lot of time."

"Hmm. And you are therefore not sure who the next target will be."

"Correct, General. At this point, we have dignitaries panicking right and left that they could be next on the hit list, because they talked to Hilt last week, or last month, or even last year."

"That sounds problematic," Kit Fisto said, in the understatement of the year. "Is there no other Jedi who could help you in some way besides psychometry?"

"Not unless there's another Force-ability that can read weapons and figure out the intent or identity of the owner."

Fisto shook his head. "Not that I am aware of, no. And you cannot bring in civilian psychometrists from Kiffu; that could take weeks."

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm." Folding his arms, Fisto said, "It might be possible to recall Quinlan from his current mission."

"That would be ideal, General," Fox said. He hoped that the Kiffar wasn't too ticked off about it, mostly because an irritated Vos was even more impossible to work with than a cheerful Vos.

"Very well," said the Nautolan general. "I will submit a request to the Council right now. One moment."

Fox watched Fisto compose and send in the message. "Thank you, sir. I know Jedi missions are important."

"It is quite all right. Given the nature of the mission he was on, I can easily send another Jedi to finish it for him."

"Even so," Fox said. "If we didn't need to track down these criminals before anyone else is murdered – and before people panic and make rash decisions that end up killing more than the murderer did – I wouldn't be asking you to recall him."

"No worries." Fisto waved a dismissive hand. "Since the war began, the Jedi have been pulled in many directions – in more ways than one, I am afraid. We are getting used to it . . ." His voice quieted as he went on. "Which is not necessarily the best thing. But at least it serves some purpose."

"Yes, sir." Fox put on his helmet and fell into step with him, checking his comm for new alerts as they headed for the main doors. There was only one message, from Vythia Archane. She said that, so far, she'd been unable to locate any details about a Nautolan gang leader, but would keep trying. Fox shook his head at the probable dead end, but acknowledged her message. At least now he knew Vos would be back; until then, they would probably not make any headway.

As he and Fisto stepped through the doors, the general sent him a considering look. "And speaking of being pulled in different directions. . ."

Fox put away his comm. "Sir?'

"Why is the Coruscant Security Force not taking charge of this investigation, given their resources?"

Fox eyed him, wondering what Fisto's angle was. "The investigation is under the CSF's jurisdiction, sir," he said truthfully. "All murder cases are."

"Oh?" The Nautolan general smiled brightly. "I must have been mistaken. I thought that perhaps you had an informant working for you – one who, rather against regulations, is not reporting to them on this case."

Behind the safety of his helmet, Fox narrowed his eyes.

"Tell me," Fisto went on. "Has the CSF approved her working on the Hilt case, or is she not involved yet?"

Jedi were absolute menaces. Fox remained calm. "They don't know about her existence, General Fisto, as you know perfectly well."

"Ah, you are correct! . . . I had – forgotten."

That was absolutely a lie, or sarcasm at best, but Fox said nothing. He did scoff, though.

In reply, Kit Fisto only gave him another blinding grin. "Well. It is far more prudent at times to apologize than to ask permission, is it not?"

"I wouldn't know, sir," Fox said sanctimoniously – and untruthfully.

This time, it was General Fisto who scoffed, which was fair. "Indeed," the Nautolan Jedi said. "Do you know, Commander, I find I do not believe that."

When Fox didn't answer, the Jedi went on. "I myself used to believe it was best to go the fully legal route in these matters, but have since come to change my mind."

"Yes, sir," Fox said blandly. "I am fully aware of that. But I don't know why you'd be bringing her up in relation to this case. After all, you were the one who sent her to me, without asking permission of the proper authorities."

"True." Kit Fisto smiled again. "It is fortunate that, as far as legality is concerned in this particular case, if we should be challenged about it . . . it will simply be your word against mine."

Fox was surprised and a little impressed that a Jedi Master would sink so low.