2 - Grounded in Reality
[This was a short, fluffy session. I got inspired and did a fair bit of embellishing, though - mostly in terms of daily-life stuff in the Old Republic - so it's nearly as long as the previous one in written form. Funny how I keep learning things about SP's world when I write about it.
Thankfully he's not the kind to get threatened by player input.]
Davik sucked in a stricken breath at the news, while Jonas shook his head slowly. "Vanni, get me on the horn to Corellia Port Control right away." Vanni gave him a dubious look. "You sure about that, Jonas?" "That's an order, Vanni." The young man shrugged and obeyed. "You're the boss. Channel open."
"Corellia Control, this is the trader
Starchaser's Song, Captain Jonas Starchaser speaking." There was a slight pause before a crisply professional voice responded, "Good day, Captain. We... weren't expecting to hear from you." "We've received the squirt, yes. We have no idea what it's all about, but we are prepared to cooperate fully with the authorities." "Understood, Captain. Hold your position; a corvette is being diverted to escort you in." "Acknowledged."
When the connection was broken, Jonas said, "It'll take them a few minutes to get here. Vanni, hold us steady. I'll be right back." But if any hopes were raised of a secret plan, they were dashed when Jonas returned wearing his old mercenary uniform - navy blue with silver trim, a couple decorations on his chest, the cap settled firmly on his head. Vanni, who'd never seen the full panoply before, was suitably impressed but commented, "Like to look your best for the execution, huh boss?" He probably wasn't comforted overmuch by Jonas' simple "Right," in response.
Soon a sleek warship hove into view. "
Starchaser's Song, this is the Corellian Navy Corvette
Stingray. We are sending you course instructions; please do not deviate from them." The tone was businesslike but courteous, which was a bit of a relief. "Acknowledged,
Stingray." Jonas suppressed a sigh when he saw that the landing coordinates were for a naval base on one of Corellia's moons. Vanni shot him a meaningful glance, but got the
Song moving as per instructions. Davik was still staring off into space, stunned and speechless.
Once settled into their assigned docking bay, Jonas led the way to the cargo hold. There he said quietly, "Disarm, Vanni. That's an order." Vanni nodded, resigned, and produced a surprising quantity of weapons secreted about his slim form. Stacking them neatly in the arms locker, he stood back as Jonas sealed it. "I hope this works out, Jonas." Forcing a smile, the older man replied, "I hope so too." He turned and rejoined Davik, standing at parade rest as a squad of marines came aboard his beloved ship, weapons at the ready.
Their leader nodded to Jonas. "We thank you for your cooperation, Captain. I am Lieutenant Tavin. Is there anyone else aboard?" "Only one, Lieutenant. An unconscious man who attacked us on Yitak IV." "We will see to his needs. If you will accompany me?"
Once off the ship, Tavin told Jonas somewhat apologetically, "We will have to search you and your crewman for weapons, Citizen." Jonas nodded; clearly the man was going out of his way to be polite, refraining from searching him aboard his own vessel. (Where, by longstanding custom, he held the courtesy rank of "Captain".) He and Vanni submitted to this indignity while the lieutenant turned to Davik. "I am afraid I must also ask you for your lightsabers, Padawan. They will be returned to you when our investigation is complete." Davik took them from his belt and handed them over wordlessly.
The three were led into a meeting room, where they sat. An older officer looked them over, then said gruffly, "I'm Captain Artan. You've handed me and my superiors quite the conundrum, Citizens. The case against you seemed airtight; you aren't just our prime suspects, but our only suspects. We're not quite sure what to make of this, but you've definitely earned some points by turning yourselves in as you have." Davik finally spoke, his voice hoarse and trembling: "What happened to my Master?!" Artan grimaced. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that until we've investigated further, Padawan." Turning to Jonas, he asked, "What brings you to Corellia?"
"My partner and I were retained by Master Insharr to conduct Padawan Orzo to Yitak IV and aid him in recovering Jedi artifacts there. We have only just returned and gotten the news. I have the receipt here in my pocket, if I may produce it?" Artan gestured for him to do so, and Jonas brought out a small crystalline cube. Pressing a stud on its side, he set it on the table as it warmed up.
Abruptly it projected a holographic image to one side, about six inches tall: A tall bearded man in Jedi robes, greying a bit at the temples. Davik choked back a sob at the sight of him, and it seemed almost strange that the man showed no sign of recognition in return, but kept on smiling. A mechanical voice spoke: "State your names for the record."
The man held up his right hand and said clearly in a warm resonant voice, "Master Insharr of the Jedi Order." Laser light flickered over his palm, and the digits of his Citizen Ident Number shimmered into being over his head. "Recognized," the voice concluded, and the image shifted to one of Jonas. He likewise raised his hand and stated "Citizen Jonas Starchaser of Lorus, late of Ithor. Captain of the trader vessel
Starchaser's Song." When his CIN had duly appeared and been acknowledged, the two appeared side by side. The robotic voice continued, "State the terms, Citizens."
Insharr recited, "I hereby contract with Citizen Jonas to carry my Padawan learner, Davik Orzo, to a Jedi temple in the Yitak system and to assist him, within reason, in recovering items belonging to the Jedi Order there. I will pay him two thousand, five hundred credits now, and a like amount upon C. Orzo's safe return with said items. In all other respects my terms conform to the provisions of the Trader Guild's Standard Passenger Contract 5-B." Jonas' image nodded and said, "I hereby acknowledge the receipt of two thousand, five hundred credits from Master Insharr and will carry out his terms to the best of my ability."
Insharr's image then grinned at Jonas', his eyes crinkling up in laugh lines. "Do try not to get into too much trouble. I'd hate to pay you for enjoying yourself!" Jonas' holo laughed. "You mean you'd hate to miss out on the fun!" Insharr chuckled, pointedly not denying it, then said seriously, "May the Force be with you." He got the smiling reply, "Keep your 'Force', Jedi," but then equally seriously, "Walk in Life." "Are the terms of the contract concluded, Citizens?" the voice droned. After receiving two affirmative answers, it proclaimed officiously, "Sealed and notarized in the name of the Galactic Republic. Let none gainsay it!" The official time, date, and location appeared as it spoke, along with the star-spangled Seal of the Republic.
The hologram fuzzed into static for a moment, then vanished. Davik's face was wet with tears.
Captain Artan cleared his throat awkwardly. "The receipt is evidence; I'll have to retain it." Jonas nodded somberly, and even Vanni looked sad, though he hadn't known Insharr well. Jonas then asked, "What happens now, Captain?"
"We're going to question you separately at some length. And we will be searching your ship." Jonas nodded, and handed over the
Song's keys. "How long will you keep us here?" "At this point, Citizen, I don't yet know. Until our investigation is complete."
"I understand your position, Captain; please try to understand mine. I have loans outstanding on my ship. I can't earn money to pay them while you and your associates do your work. Is there any way you can formally freeze the loans until..." Davik abruptly lunged to his feet and shouted, "Master Insharr is DEAD, and all you can think about is your ship?!"
Jonas winced, while Vanni looked anywhere but at the two of them. "I have to, Pada-... Davik. I grieve for your loss. I liked Insharr very much. But my livelihood is at stake here, not to mention my home. It won't do him any good for Vanni and me to lose the
Song." Davik sat back down, fuming lightly, while Jonas looked back at Artan. "What about it, Captain?"
Artan replied, "That's more of a matter for the civil authorities; I don't have the jurisdiction. But you will be in contact with them soon enough, and I assure you that you will be afforded all the protections of Republic and Corellian law." When Jonas nodded, he went on, "We are ready now for the questioning I spoke of. I ask you to cooperate fully and answer everything to the best of your ability." The three rose; Vanni a little hesitantly. He'd been conspicuously silent, hunched in on himself during the whole proceedings. Jonas touched his shoulder lightly as they were led away, and Vanni flashed him a wan, half-hearted smile.
The interrogators knew their work. Courteously relentless, they went on and on, dissecting detail after detail. Jonas was worn out by the time they led him off to a small room to sleep; and it just started right back up the next day. His patience finally starting to fray a bit by mid-morning, Jonas suddenly said, "Look! Have you ever heard of Pluvo Two-for-one?" His questioner paused, then asked with furrowed brows, "Sure. What about him?" "He owns part of the mortgage on my ship. Given that, do you honestly think I'd kill a man who owed me money?!" That got a wry chuckle out of her, and the ice was broken somewhat thereafter.
The three allies were permitted to eat lunch together that day. It wasn't much of a meal for scintillating conversation... Vanni was in an irritable, moody funk - stabbing at his food as if it might rear up and fight back. He was still making himself as small as possible under the harsh glare of the law. Davik was tight-lipped and morose. Jonas was just fatigued and worried. He tried making a few cheerful comments to brighten the mood, but they just stared at him balefully until he faltered to a stop.
After a time they were escorted back into the meeting room. There Artan told them, "I have news for you, Citizens. A decision has been reached regarding your status." When he had their full attention, he continued, "We are not going to press formal charges at this time. However, our investigation continues, and we need to have you nearby. You will be taken planetside to the city of Miretta, which has direct jurisdiction over the case. We expect you to remain there and to stay out of trouble, but other than that no restrictions are placed upon you. We will pay for the first night's stay at the starport hotel, but after that you will have to provide for your own lodgings. Your ship will remain here in the meantime. Are there any questions?"
Davik gripped the arms of his chair. "NOW are you going to tell me what happened to my Master?!" Artan sighed. "It appears that some person or persons shot him with a stunner. Meanwhile someone else attacked him with a lightsaber from behind, cutting him into several pieces." Davik broke down into sobbing at that image; Jonas reached out and gripped his shoulder to steady him.
When the Padawan had recovered his composure, his face was set like flint. In a dead, determined voice, he inquired, "Was there any sign of a struggle?" "No. It appears he was taken completely by surprise." "Where did this happen?" "In his own home in Miretta. Nobody but the three of you were observed to enter the house, and the time of death points to roughly the time you left - though there is a margin of error, of course." Davik pondered that, wheels starting to turn in his brain. "I see."
Jonas asked, "Will we be provided with legal representation?" "No, Citizen, you will have to see to that yourself." "May we get some personal items from the ship?" "Of course. You will be escorted there after this meeting. You are required to remain unarmed, however." That brought Vanni's head up; he stared at the man in disbelief. Jonas looked dubious himself, and was starting to say something when Artan assured him, "It's a very law-abiding city. You will not need to defend yourselves." Vanni snorted quietly and Jonas just shrugged, resigned.
Shortly after, aboard the
Song, Jonas paused just before heading out the hatch, a rucksack full of clothes and other items slung over his shoulder. He stroked the bulkhead and said softly, "Hang in there, old girl. We'll be chasing the stars again soon enough." Vanni overheard that as he was trooping out and stopped in his tracks. He turned and met Jonas' eyes, and nearly spoke... But then he hunched his shoulders and turned away again. Jonas sighed softly and followed him out, and the three were escorted onto a transport shuttle.
He sighed again as he looked out a porthole at the approaching planet. Corellia was disgustingly overbuilt, a few anemic parks about the only wilderness left. [SP says that Corellia is due for a major population crash in the next couple thousand years, which will eventually turn it into the rough-and-tumble den of smugglers that Han Solo will arise from.] But Davik's toneless words roused him from his reverie: "I never thought my first investigation would be of my own Master's death." "I know you'll make him proud, Padawan."
Davik grimaced, and Jonas swiftly asked, "Are there any Jedi you can contact once we're planetside?" "...Yes. My Master's former Padawan, Tecza, works in the Ministry of Justice on Coruscant. He's a Zabrak, very dedicated and zealous. He'll definitely want to know all about this, and may be able to help us. And there's Master Ayala; she was a good friend of Master Insharr's and will definitely want to get to the bottom of things." Davik warmed to the topic as he spoke, and Jonas smiled to himself. Vanni, for his part, still seemed determined to brood, but he knew the cure for that: Give him something to do.
They were met at the spaceport by the civilian police, who reiterated the terms of their stay: No leaving the city, no trouble, no weapons. Jonas tried chatting them up, asking them if they could recommend a lawyer among other things, but they rebuffed him coolly. To them he was just another perp, and that was that.
But Davik, of all people, managed to get through to them. "Take me to Master Insharr's house." They started to deny him, but he overrode them passionately: "I know the place. I've LIVED there. I'll notice things nobody else will! PLEASE!" After some discussion and calling in to headquarters, an escorted visit was approved. Davik was striding after the cops purposefully, head held high with determination, when Jonas called, "Padawan!" Davik turned. "Yes?" After a pause, Jonas managed to say, "May the Force be with you." The Jedi nodded sharply. "And with you, Jonas."
Once settled in their rooms, Jonas went and knocked on Vanni's door. The young man was pacing like a caged lion. "Yeah?" "I'm going to be researching our situation. While I'm doing that, why don't you go find us a place to stay? You know how outrageous these spaceport hotels are - damned monopoly!" Vanni shook himself, then nodded. "Good idea, Jonas. I'm on it." "Keep your ears open for any work we can do, too. There's no telling how long we'll be here." Vanni nodded again. "Yeah." After an awkward pause, he started to head out. Jonas asked him quietly, "Hey. How are you doing?" Vanni shrugged easily and flashed him a smile. "I don't like all this, Jonas, but that's life." Jonas nodded. "True enough." He felt sure there was more going on than that, but knew better than to pry.
Now alone, Jonas sat down at his room's computer, dipping into the planetary Net. Searching on Corellian law proved enlightening; he now understood why they were being given the kid-glove treatment. A Corellian court could hand down one of four verdicts: Besides the usual "Guilty" and "Not Guilty", there were also "Not Proven" (which meant the defendant was free to go, but the case could be reopened again if new evidence surfaced) and "Acquitted" (which meant the case never should have been brought to trial in the first place). Those who were Acquitted had the legal right to sue the government for damages, and the Corellian courts had a long and proud tradition of socking it hard to the other branches of government over such cases. Evidently the authorities were sufficiently unsure about the case that they feared a possible acquittal.
The government couldn't hold them more than a day without pressing charges; but they could impound the
Song on various pretexts for up to six months. Jonas sighed. If it ended up being six months, it might as well be sixty years.
His next step was to call the Ithorian Consulate. The hammerheaded receptionist looked him over and said in accented Basic, "How may our office assist you, Citizen?" His neck sacs bulged in astonishment when Jonas responded in 'Sister Tongue' Ithorese (the simplified, one-mouthed dialect used by children and computers), "Felicitations, courteous sir. I humbly ask your forgiveness for my pronounciation; my anatomy does not permit all of the necessary sounds. I can comprehend the Mother Tongue if you deign to speak it." The rumbling, fluting response eventually came, "Felicitations, talented human sir. How may the Children of Mother Jungle be of aid?"
The receptionist's neck sacs bulged all over again when Jonas introduced the stylized whistling note of distress into his words - the note of a youngster separated from his herd. "I seek the encirclement of the Herd of Herds, magnanimous sir. I am far from home and set upon by the claws of predators." He got the thoroughly confused but ritual response, "Deliverance is yours, distressed lad. Our spears are sharp. ... What, ah..." He evidently searched for a polite way to ask just what sort of "herd" Jonas was referring to; Jonas spared him the trouble.
"Mine is the fifth Shaper Herd of Mother Jungle, legitimately puzzled sir. Shaper Ivek has stretched his neck over me." The Ithorian started to turn blue with incipient shock. He mumbled to himself, "Shaper?! MOTHER JUNGLE?!" while Jonas politely ignored the discourtesy. Pulling himself together, the being finally stated, "I am passing your request on to our Negotiator With Predators, o entirely unprecedented sir. Walk in Life."
There followed a long and polite set of rumblings, growlings, flutings, and moanings. In the end, Jonas took his leave of the "exalted sire" Consul and sat back in contemplation of the situation. A message was being sent to Ithor. Soon the Corellian government would be flooded with sealed affidavits vouching for his character from every last member of his herd; it was the Ithorian way. Jonas grinned for a moment as he imagined the poor harried sap of a bureaucrat whose in-box was about to overflow.
The Consul had also recommended a lawyer of impeccable reputation. More than that he was not willing to do until he heard from the Shaper; Jonas could hardly blame him. A quick call to the lawyer - a late-model protocol droid owned by a prestigious firm - got his case accepted immediately. What's more, the droid assured him with typically mechanical enthusiasm that there were legal means to freeze the loans on the
Song - at any rate, the loans from the bank. Pluvo was another matter... but Jonas still breathed a sigh of profound relief.
He sat a time in contemplation after hanging up. He hadn't spoken Ithorese in... too long. It brought back memories. Ah, where are you, cherished Shaper sire? Your herdling hopes you do not turn blue at the thought of him... Jonas shaped the Lifeblood into a little blessing toward Ivek and sent it on its way. He had not the craft to ensure that it would be recognizable by the time it got there, but it's the thought that counts.
Meanwhile, Davik was going over his old home with an investigator's unsparing eye. Everything was neatly in order, Jedi discipline abhorring clutter. The cops didn't entirely trust him, but his status as a Jedi helped; they were willing to answer some questions. No life-traces had been found in the house other than those of himself, Jonas and Vanni, and Master Insharr. The murderers had evidently been very cautious.
He was beginning to despair of finding anything when his eyes fell on his Master's meditation focus... a kinetic sculpture programmed to weave in intricate patterns, capturing the eye. Master Insharr had favored such things, speaking of "active attention"... Davik sternly rebuked himself and applied that active attention to the task at hand... Something was strange here.
Yes! He'd spent hours in front of the focus, but he'd never seen it in this configuration before! It wasn't part of any of the thing's programs... Something had disturbed it - perhaps it had been tampered with? The police confirmed that the Jedi Master had been sitting in front of the focus when attacked.
Keeping his own counsel, Davik went over the room with a fine-toothed comb. Eventually, to the cops' chagrin, he turned up something they'd missed: A notch in the chair opposite Insharr's. He was positive it hadn't been there the last he'd seen it. Davik wasn't certain what it meant, but he was sure it meant something.
When satisfied for the nonce, he said, "I thank you for permitting me to come here, Officers. If I think of anything else, I will be sure to contact you." The Padawan then strode off, intending to send a few hyperspatial messages.
"Justice will be done, Master. I swear it."
