Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Those Fries'll Kill You

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Coruscant in the Spring. The beginning of the year. That café has so many memories for me. Burgers and shakes. Music and friends. Joy... and death.

In the first year of her Jedi training, Linny Rennis's one salvation was Paldo's Place. A cafe a few levels down, just one quick shuttle ride away from the Coruscant Temple and the university campus. It was the kind of place that seemed completely frozen in time. Linny was certain that the posters on the wall dated back to the Old Republic, and the layer of grease on top would certainly indicate so. However, they sold astonishingly tasty food that was ridiculously cheap. The baskets full of sharp, freshly-cooked fries, the heavy slabs of gorgeous burgers, the thick, gelatinous shakes... it was teen heaven. It was the one place Linny could go to and pretend she wasn't a Jedi, just for an hour or two.

And now, it was all over.

That day, Linny'd arrived to a crowd outside the place. Flashing lights, bathing the street in a cacophony and reds and blues. CorSec droids stood either side of the entrance, barriers to keep everyone out. A bunch of worried people muttering and staring, just waiting for the grisly reveal. As Linny approached, a couple of security guys pushed out a hover-trolley. It was covered up, but there were very few people who'd take up that much space beneath a blanket.

Paldo, Linny thought instantly. Her assumption was repeated by the crowd around her.


"Was that Paldo?"


"There was some shouting going on earlier-"

"-looked real worried the last time I saw him-"

"-thinking it's gang-related."

"Up this high? This isn't Level 1315, for goodness sake."

Linny zoned out a little at the thought of Paldo being dead. It didn't seem remotely possible, someone so full of life and good cheer just being completely snuffed out like that. To her shock, she felt a few tears build up that she blinked away. There was one thing that was bothering her, though. The last person she heard had been right. Gang activity on this level? Not a chance. It'd be a really brave gang to get this close to the Upper city. Braver or stupider than most. Besides, Paldo ran a greasy diner for college kids and teens, not a club. Unless he was hiding spice in his bags of Caff, there wasn't really much that should interest criminals. Protection racket? she wondered, as she felt something. A pulse of intuition. A small, gentle tug at the essence within herself.

Hm. What's this about?

She carefully disentangled herself from the crowd, following that hunch. By now, she knew that it wasn't just merely intuition. It was part of her gift, her talent, her Force sensitivity. Even if that sounded too clinical for what it felt like to her. With a single-minded push, she checked if anybody was watching before slipping past one of the singular barricades, moving into the alleyway between the diner and the building beside it.

The alleyway was fairly plain, aside from the teeming dumpster and the faint scent of damp rot filling the air. Her nose wrinkled as she tried not to think about it, focusing on that feeling. Deep within, she honed in on what was pulling her, reaching out around herself. Her eyes closed for a second; just your everyday teenager deep in though by a murder scene. As she reached out, something resonated a little further down. An echo shot back to her, shaking her from the reverie. Instantly, she stepped down there, fingers running over the slightly-dirty wall. As her fingertips smeared the dirt and grime, she felt the contours of the building. The worn-away materials. The moisture from the air-conditioners and life-supports. The crack. The crack.

There.


Linny carefully worked her fingers inside, feeling the gentle rush of importance just flowing from that crack in the wall, like a river surging down it's path.

Hawthorn Hawthorn
 
The Mushroom Private Detective

The galaxy was a dark and twisted place. It could chew a being up and spit them out in any of a trillion different configurations of existence. In the last hundred Hawthorn had learned this truth all too well. Honestly, he questioned how it had all changed him. But, all the questions in the galaxy couldn’t change a damned thing. So, he would rather act. This case was no different. And yet, it would probably be the start of a million new questions, ones that were asked by one who could possibly change it all.


Night had fallen on the planet of Twilight. Even at its darkest, Coruscant shone like a jewel from the countless trillions of lights that covered its surface. Home to trillions, this jewel had a massive dark side. Out of its depths, Crude was once more being smuggled. It had gotten its fangs into the only son of an influential banker back on Denon, and so he had been hired at great cost. Once he found himself on Coruscant, the money practically poured in from other worried parents wanting an answer that Security couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give them. In the slight drizzle caused by a water main issue higher up, Hawthorn walked the well-lit streets, high above the even lower levels below. He pulled his jacket tighter and readjusted the wide brimmed hat that hid the mushroom cap on his head to some degree to keep the water off, just in case it was from a less than clean source.


He passed by scores of hurried teens, tossed coins in the buckets of a few weary eyed homeless who DIDN’T seem to be hooked on anything, and made his way back to the dingy little hotel that he had made his base. It had been two long weeks on this rock, and he had nothing to show for it. Well, almost nothing. A source pointed him to a small businessman named Paldo. He was an upstanding businessman, but according to the source, had figured out part of the puzzle. He had gotten ahold of him, and they had agreed to meet in the afternoon. With luck, things would start to go his way.


Come morning he checked up on a few other leads. Nothing substantial, but it did fill in some holes. As he approached the restaurant owned by Padlo he “saw” a throng of people outside, and a multitude of CorSec. While born without eyes, his senses, and the cybernetics, more than made up for it all. It wasn’t difficult to show his credentials and get a bit of information about it. Padlo, dead. He had been stabbed seventeen times from the front but had no defensive marks. He hadn’t fought back for some reason.


The Security team called it gang violence. Some upstarts trying to show their mettle or something. It was poodoo. Nothing had been stolen, or destroyed, no graffiti, no real motive. Had someone found out about Padlo’s key to the Crude case? Maybe. But still, he had to figure out if the man had known ANYTHING. Security let him muck about the office, since that hadn’t been the crime scene, so long as he informed them of anything he found. Not that he intended to keep that promise. He had long suspected someone that worked for them was why it was so difficult to get information about the drug manufacturers.


It didn’t take long to find the man’s “hidden compartment”. What first looked like a false drawer in his desk was real all along, if you could find the button under the desk. Hawthorn pressed it, and the drawer slid open. It was empty, but it hadn’t been all that long ago. Scans showed that the dust was heavy around a small, rectangular shaped indent but lighter under it, almost non-existent. It meant that something had been there very recently. He closed the drawer and looked out a window in the office. An alley way was present, and he saw a girl break through the blockade and head down it. A hand reached into his pocket in instinct, as he quickly made his way to the back door. The familiar weight of his Model 44 was…comforting.


They made it to the stone wall almost at the same time. As the human reached for it, his lips turned up in a mischievous little grin. “Why hello there. Why does a lovely creature like you have your hand deep in a hole, in the middle of a crime scene?” The mushroom’s deep and rumbly voice echoed out across the alley way as he slid up close to her, hand still on his piece in his jacket.

Linny Rennis Linny Rennis
 
The crack wormed it's way into the side of the building. Linny wasn't sure what the heck could be lodged down there that was so important. At any moment, the crack could be sealed up or a new panel put over it. Maybe that was the intention. Good way to hide something you don't want found? Her fingertips brushed against something plastic. Narrowing her eyes, she worked it a little, trying to dislodge it from that crack.

Which was when she noticed the man. She gasped, her fingers slipping from the little hole in the wall, leaving behind a cascade of crumbling wall. Her hand moved to her chest as she took a step back, priming herself to run off. Or fight, but that wasn't going to happen. Linny looked up over the dark trenchcoat, up to the fungal blossom that made up the man's head. She thought that she was gonna be in big trouble until her brain started working properly.

"Wait... you're not CorSec," she said quickly, the fear mixing with confusion as her brain went into overdrive. The shuddering, fearful breathing faded slowly as she gathered herself a little more. After all, she wasn't just a teenager wandering around where she shouldn't. Didn't she have like, actual cause to be doing things like this.


"Shouldn't I ask you the same question?" she fired back, trying (and failing) to put a little authority into her voice. "Jedi are allowed to investigate things in the Galactic Alliance." Now, she wasn't exactly sure that was correct, but better to seem like she had some grounds to be here. And lay in thick that she was actually in the NJO. What was the point of learning to be a special space wizard if you couldn't throw your title around once or twice?

"Do you always walk up to random girls in alleyways with your hand on a gun, or blade, or whatever you've got in there?" She pointed to the bulge in his jacket where his hand was, taking another step back just in case. Desperately wishing she'd learned to shoot, or she'd actually had the chance to build her lightsaber yet.

Hawthorn Hawthorn
 
The Mushroom Private Detective
He didn’t need eyes to tell him what was going on in front of him. Natural senses, and cybernetics were more than enough to get a grip on the situation. The girl was scared, nervous, like a child whose hand was caught in the cookie jar. He immediately scanned her and took in every feature he could. This wasn’t Denon, he couldn’t play by his normal rules, and…something about her, made him not want to scare her anyway. Slowly, he pulled his hands from his pocket, the blaster left behind. He raised them out to his sides, to show he had no weapons and wasn’t about to pull anything.


His thin lips pulled back in a smirk, and his deep gravelly voice emanated from his chest. “Anyone tell you that you would be a great holo-announcer? Your voice has an interesting quality to it, Jedi.” A hand extended towards the girl, curious if she would take it or not. “Hawthorn, from the Hawthorn Detective Agency, working with CorSec at the moment as this case and mine overlapped.” His head tilts towards the open back door he had come out of. “I came from INSIDE the building swarming with Security. Now, I’m going to pull out my identification. I’m not going to hurt you.”


A black gloved hand slowly, and carefully reached into an inner pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out the Identification Card he got upon entry, as well as his ID from Denon. Both clearly stated him as a licensed Private Investigator. “I’m not going to bite your head off and eat it. Relax. But yes, I do always approach strange young women in back ally ways of murder scenes who have their hands in the walls clearly searching for something that no Security officer has found yet with my hand on a blaster. Last little girl I met had a blaster on me first, honestly. Occupational and racial hazard. What’s your name? And what are you doing here?”


The Little One clearly had no experience at any of this. Or was a fething good actress. But, if she really was a Jedi, as unlikely as that was, it was best to play it safe. “Or, we can head over to the CorSec officers, if you don’t desire to answer my questions?”

Linny Rennis Linny Rennis
 
Linny's eyes narrowed even more as she watched the mushroom lift his hands up, free of any weapon. That was good, right? She stared at his hand, overruling the innate politeness within herself and refusing to shake it. Instead, she stared back up towards his... well, where his eyes should be.

His credentials checked out though. Well, they looked official enough to Linny, anyway. A private detective, then? Wasn't exactly the way things seemed to get done on Coruscant, but hadn't she done something similar before? Except without a fancy ID card to prove it.

"I don't need a blaster to do anything," Linny tried, playing off the reputation of a Jedi's abilities, without actually having much training in anything. "I'm here cause I know the owner. Knew the owner," she corrected quickly, cheeks turning a little red as she did so. There'd be time for sadness and melancholy later. After she'd found some justice for Paldo.


"Feel free to take me to CorSec. They can get in touch with the Temple, verify that I am actually a Jedi," she said with a little more forthrightness. After all, that much in itself was true, her name was down in the records. The fact that she was an apprentice, a padawan, a total newbie to it was totally and utterly irrelevant and he didn't need to know that.

"I'm Linny. And I'm right here because I sensed something in that crack." She pointed right to where she'd been investigating when he'd caught her. "The Force called to me. Someone, or something, had an intense emotional experience to do with this location that resonated through the Force, left an imprint here." That's what the instructors at the Temple had said, anyway. Linny'd always been able to feel these things naturally. They called it psychometry and sensing the Force. Linny called it The Hunch.


"Whatever happened to Paldo, whatever's been shoved in there has something to do with it, I bet you my library card. I don't buy this 'gang' story, not on this level. If you get it outta there, I might be able to trace more from it."

Hawthorn Hawthorn
 
The Mushroom Private Detective
He had been around a long time. Hawthorn had a knack for telling when someone had lied to him. This girl was not lying about being a Jedi. She did want to make herself sound more important. However, in his years he had worked with many Jedi, the things they could feel defied belief and all reason. “Sadly, I knew many Jedi that I wish to this day HAD used a blaster. They might still be at my side, kid. Alright. Let’s play along. I don’t care if you are a Jedi, or you just have really good intuition. Let’s try this thing.” The fungus realized it could be a trap. But…Sometimes you had to roll the dice.



He grunted a bit. “Nice to meet you Linny. I was here because the owner was a contact. I’m trying to track down a drug smuggling ring. Started on Denon and worked my way here. He had the answers, we were supposed to be meeting right now, and now he is dead. I am sure you can track what I am thinking.” Out of his jacket came two smaller arms. Their hands were much thinner, more finely created than the two main ones. A slender arm slid into the crack and felt around. It crumbled around him. The hole was hastily made, and deep. He felt the plastic bag, barely grabbed it, and began to pull it out.



It took a few moments, but soon the PI had the bag wormed out of the hole. Inside was a datapad. It was an older model common to the world. “Well now, Linny. If you have that ability, does this make you feel anything?” He examined it with his cybernetics. It was moments like these he regretted the fact he did not have eyes. A visual inspection would have been easier. Fingers brushed the crumbs of duracret off the bag. His lips gave her a wry smile. “I don’t buy a gang story either. Too many things don’t fit. But I bet my license this belongs to Padlo, and not anyone else here. I found an indentation in a hidden drawer in his desk that was just this size. He knew he was being targeted. And hid information out here.”

Linny Rennis Linny Rennis
 
The idea of Paldo being a contact for anything like that seemed laughable. Paldo!? The guy who ran the place that all the teenagers went to? His place was practically filled with kids relaxing after school, or sweethearts sharing a milkshake. Linny had an image of him sneaking back to slip spice under the counter whilst she was sat out front, picking at some fries. She certainly didn't like the image.

Aside from a little mild jealousy at Hawthorn's other arms (they looked pretty useful to have), Linny said nothing until he'd produced the datapad. "I'm gonna need a direct touch. Close to skin contact as possible," she informed him, stepping in close. Though she could see through the bag and they could probably operate it, there were some things that required a little more presence.

Her slender fingers snaked into the top of the bag, until her fingertips just brushed the top of the plastic frame. She felt the jolt of something almost instantly. "One sec.." she muttered, closing her eyes. She focused on that sensation, that jolt. Following it with her presence, pulling at it, tugging and finding and reaching deeper and deeper. Finding the tightness wrapped around the Force, hidden deep within the pad and pushing, expanded, reaching and dragging until....


A scrabble of fingers on duracreet. A panel. Hidden away in the next building just for a moment like this. Paldo rammed it in there as far as he could, looking frantically around. The fear on him was so thick, you could taste it. Something pulsed from within the diner (too distant, too far to feel or sense through the pad) and instantly, Paldo's attention turned direct and cold and certain. They had come. He looked to the opening in the alleyway, as if he could escape but... but... but... no. Resolute, believing there was a chance, he turned and headed back to the open door to his kitchen...

The threads faded away and Linny took a couple of steps back, the world rushing in at her. Bending forwards, she shook her head a little as she breathed deeply. "He... he hid it. He was scared. He knew they were coming for him." Who they was had been irritatingly unknown, but such were the currents of the Force. "He nearly ran for it, but he went back when he heard a noise. I guess that's when he was..." she said, letting the last part drift off and fade.

"Probably not that much help, I'm sure you could guess that." The real juicy stuff would be on the pad itself. "If there's anything else I can get ahold of, I can probably say more. Can your cybernetics get in that?"

Hawthorn Hawthorn
 

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