Private The Long Morning Walk

[Quade Kerric]

​

The call came in at the end of a twelve hour shift. It was going to be a sixteen hour shift now, he knew it. At least it was shorter than the day before. And the day before that. And this was his week off. Still, for Quade Kerric, work was better than the alternative.

He was standing over another body, covered with a plastic sheet, just like all the others. Quade knelt, and pulled back the covering to reveal the victim. She was young. Attractive in that typical Nabooian way. Red of hair, which was a change to be sure, but still with that faultless complexion and perfect cheek structure.

"Time of death?"

"We are putting it around midnight, maybe just after."

It was ten in the morning now. He had worked the graveyard, having volunteered for the shift. His gloved hand reached for a datastick in his duster pocket, and then he carefully pulled back the young woman's hair. Ears pierced, but no ear rings.

"Have a look in the wash room for any earrings. Recent prints on any jewlery boxes."

The scene, an expensive penthouse in Theed, had been shut down for a little over an hour. The neighbour had become concerned when the resident, Myra Daggit, had not taken her normal morning walk, after having seen her return home alone the night before. The neighbour was still in shock. Likely would be for some time.

Quade's head tilted. Examining her neck. No sign of bruising. Her head was clear of trauma.

"Cause of death?"

"Asphyxiation. Air filtration system was turned off."

"Not a fault?"

"No, sir. Manual override was turned to off."

"Prints?"

"None. Not even the victims."

Quade stopped the examination of the victim for a time. She did look peaceful, for a potential murder victim. Perhaps oxygen depravation wasn't the worst way to go. Or, she was asleep? He looked up towards the bedroom door. Then why was she in the kitchen?

"Sir. A Jedi is outside the apartment asking to see you. They said they have been assigned to the case with you."

Quade swore. A short, sharp, biting word that let all who cared know he was supremely unimpressed. He had been warned this was going to happen, but given the lateness of his shift, he had foolishly assumed that they would bother him another day.

"Let them in."

Quade did not look up towards the entrance. Why give the Jedi attention when he would be saying goodbye to them forever soon enough.

Katarine Ryiah ​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

I let it fall, my heart


​

It had been a long night for Katarine as well. Since returning to Naboo, she had been pulling double shifts whenever she could, less out of dedication than avoidance. If she stayed busy, she didn't have to be available when her husband woke. That situation was complicated enough already, and she was prepared to sidestep it for as long as possible.

She'd been on her way back to the Temple when the call came in about the homicide. Not the ideal way to meet a new partner, but then again, nothing about the assignment was ideal. That was the job, at least the part she was permitted to acknowledge. The other part, the one that sat like a stone in her chest, was investigating that same partner to determine whether he was corrupt.

She hated it.

Katarine hated politics. She hated internal affairs. She hated mind games most of all. Yet somehow the Council, and the authorities, had decided she was the right person to stand at the intersection of all three.

When she was finally allowed into the crime scene, she made a conscious effort to appear calm and unremarkable. It wasn't easy with so many officers openly watching her. Cops never liked it when Jedi became involved in their cases, and today was clearly no exception.

She wasn't even dressed like a Jedi. Tight jeans, a white tank top, a black leather jacket, practical, unassuming. But clothing didn't matter. Everyone still knew who she was. And more importantly, they knew why she was there.

She moved forward, her deep green eyes settling on the woman sprawled on the floor. The red-haired victim might have been asleep, if not for the stillness of her chest. Too still.

The air carried a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. In the Force, there was a lingering hollow, an echo left behind when a life was cut short. Katarine let the sensation pass through her without comment or outward reaction. She had learned long ago how to do that.

It was just another part of the job.

"Do we know who she is?"


Quade Kerric

 

[Quade Kerric]

​

"Yes. We do."

He didn't offer a glance, any further explanation, nothing. Instead, Quade just continued his personal examination of the victim. Using the datastick he pulled back the cover a little further, revealing that she was still dressed in a gown, expensive too. Clearly she had been out at some event and arrived home quite late.

Myra Daggit was a socialite. From a middle aristocrat family, one of means and wealth. Enough to mingle with the elite, lower down the ladder so as not to be well known, or a political force on Naboo. She was as close to the bottom of the well for nobles as you could get.

He stood, purposely ignoring the Jedi, and looked right past Katarine. "Tox report status?"

The officer looked awkward. Clearly, they were expecting Quade to make acquaintance with his new Jedi handler.

"Hey...you deaf?"

"Oh...ah...should be back in an hour."

"We knocking doors in the neighbourhood?"

"Ah...Tand and Jellun are on it, sir."

"Good."

His eyes finally focused on Katarine. His expression remained neutral, though his gaze was fire.

"You are not needed here, Jedi."

Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

And as it fell, you rose to claim it

​

"You are not needed here, Jedi."​

So that was how it was going to be.

Katarine exhaled slowly and closed her eyes for a brief moment, as though offering a silent prayer for patience. She was accustomed to the brush-off. Local law enforcement often bristled at Jedi involvement, resentment masked as professionalism, skepticism disguised as protocol. She had long ago learned not to take it personally.

But this felt sharper.

Officer Kerric knew she hadn't come on a whim. He knew the Council had assigned her to investigate him. Given the nature of her assignment, she hadn't expected a warm reception, but she wouldn't have refused one either. If only it were that simple.

She opened her eyes, steady and unflinching, and took a step closer to him. Her five-foot two-inch (1.57 meters) frame was dwarfed by him, but she stood square and challenging all the same.

"Well, Sparky" she said evenly, "like it or not, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

She hoped, at the very least, they could manage civility. She wasn't exactly thrilled about this assignment either.

"Have there been any additional deaths we believe are connected?"


Quade Kerric

 

[Quade Kerric]

​

Quade's tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek as he looked away from the Jedi, and wiped his brow.

"Look..." He struggled to remember the name of this Jedi. What had they called her? Katherine. Katrina. Kathy. Kate. Penelope. Princess. Katarine... "Look, Katarine. Not every death is connected to a string of deaths. Not sure if you are one of those "real life crime" holovidders or something. But the thought of it being connected to some other murder is so far down the list of questions to ask right now...it is almost embarrassing that you should ask."

No one else heard the words, as he muttered them to her while pausing next to her ear as he walked past her. With his insult fully unleashed, Quade continued past, with a little shoulder to shoulder push as he walked towards the bathroom to have a look around.

"If you want to be useful, Katarine. Go help Tand and Jellun with the sweep of the building. They can tell you what questions to ask."

He stepped into the bathroom, and pulled some gloves over his hands. The medicine cabinet was checked. They under the sink. He pulled back the shower curtain. Nothing seemed horridly out of place, though the victim was clearly a fan of the tallum flower scent, because a lot of hygiene products used it.

Katarine Ryiah​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

It was dark and I was over


​

This was going to be a long assignment, she could feel it settling into her bones already.

Katarine handled serial killer cases. That had been her assumption when the Council sent her here. But if Quade was telling the truth, then this wasn't about her specialty at all. She wasn't here because of her instincts, her patience, or her track record. She was here only to investigate him.

Well. At least it wasn't serial. No pattern meant no countdown. No one else had to get hurt while she untangled this mess.

Quade did his best to posture, to crowd her space and make her feel small. On someone else, it might have worked. On Katarine, it had the opposite effect. She had always been an impish troublemaker, and the moment someone tried to assert authority, her instinct was to test it. When he deliberately bumped her shoulder, she only grinned.

Yes. Definitely a long assignment.

She followed a few steps behind him, then leaned against the doorframe, arms loose, eyes tracking his movements as he worked.

"So that's the routine?" she asked lightly. "You say something meant to rattle your fellow officers, and they tuck their tails and look the other way while you do whatever corrupt thing you want?"

It would probably land hard. He'd earned it and if it upset him well, it wouldn't be the first time her mouth had gotten her punched in the face.

She slipped her hands into her jacket pockets and sighed, the edge softening just a fraction.

"Look, Quade. I wasn't sent here to work with Tand and Jellun. I'm stuck with you. So let's make the best of it, yeah? Besides, once you get to know me, you can come up with more accurate insults. If nothing else."


Quade Kerric

 

[Quade Kerric]

​

He paused, looking down at the floor for just a moment. Largely, he ignored what the Jedi was saying, at least outwardly. Inwardly, he was annoyed, but he wasn't giving her the joy of seeing as much.

He looked up, prepared to give a scathing comeback, but his eyes caught sight of something just slightly out of place.

He stepped passed Katarine, hand pushing her to the side. "You will find it is Internal Affairs that is corrupt. Maybe not the whole thing, Farrow at least," he muttered to her, but his attention was elsewhere.

A small worn leather case was pulled out from the larger inner pocket of his duster. Unzipped it revealed a selection of tools, scrappers, tweezers, needles, lockpicks. They looked well used, but well maintained.

"This grout is a different colour," he muttered, his whole deamour changed. Gone was the aggressively anti-Katarine stance. Replacing it, for a brief moment, was an almost youthful intrigue. Quade very literally loved this part of the job.

"Around this tile, look," he said, casting a glance to Katarine, and with his eyes directing her to look up at one of the many white tiles on the wall opposite the shower. "It doesn't quite match. It's damn close. But..."

He ran the back edge of the blade across the grout, before it met some resistance. "Camera diode..."

"Sir. This is Tand. We were just finishing up rounds and we were down on the first floor. The maintenance guy has gotten real nervous in the last few seconds. Jellan is talking to him, but he is refusing us entry. A warrant would be great right about now."

Quade tapped his comms, confirming to the uniformed officer that he would get on to it. Within moments he had filed the official request via his datapad, and slipped it back into his coat.

He turned towards Katarine, leaned against the wall. Knowing it would take a while, he decided it was time to size her up a little more. "You have experience with this sort of stuff, or do I have to teach you all the procedure?"

Katarine Ryiah​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Until you kissed my lips and you saved me

​

Katarine felt his frustration ripple through the Force, sharp and restless, but she kept her expression neutral. In many ways, her life would have been easier if she weren't a Jedi, if she couldn't feel these undercurrents of emotion and intent. Law enforcement would accept her without reservation. She could do the work she loved without suspicion, without the unspoken tension that always followed her badge and robes. And she wouldn't be weighed down by instincts and impressions no one else could see.

If only life had gone that way.

He brushed past her again, pushing past her with his hand, and Katarine couldn't help noticing how easily he did it. Most people hesitated to touch a Jedi at all, as if the Force itself might bite back. He clearly had no such reservations. It was… refreshing. It would make the job easier.

Or at least more interesting.

"You will find it is Internal Affairs that is corrupt. Maybe not the whole thing, Farrow at least,"

"Now we're getting somewhere." Katarine followed his gaze as he stood examining the grout. One section was subtly darker than the rest. "Good eye," she said, genuine approval in her tone. Whatever else he was, this was good police work. That, she respected.

The call came in moments later, janitor, evasive answers, nervous behavior. Just like that, he vaulted to the top of the suspect list.

"You have experience with this sort of stuff, or do I have to teach you all the procedure?"

"If you're offering to teach me your tricks, I'm all ears." She grinned, enjoying herself a little more than she probably should. "I'm familiar with most standard police procedures, though I haven't worked directly with Republic Judicial Services before. My usual cases involve serial offenses and violent crime." She tilted her head slightly. "But I do know a thing or two about interrogation, if you'd like some backup when we talk to the maintenance worker."


Quade Kerric