Private Tide Rising over Ecumenopolis

[Damsy Callat]

Jedi Temple, Coruscant
// Dagon Kaze \\​

The so-called Mind Killer had been on the prowl for months now.

Which yahoo in the press had given her that name?

Yes, though it had been alleged up until mid-last week, it was now established she was in fact a she. She'd apparently gotten careless and left a security camera unscrubbed. There was a flesh and blood face under that iconic hood, but a pair of blacked-out, boxy sunglasses made her look just like every other Coruscanti resident. Neither the CSF nor the NJO had gotten any closer to a name—a real name.

That probably had something to do with why no one had even gotten close to her, excepting of course her victims—though she chose them, not the other way around. It was always the same: some poor Underlevels sod with a select portion of their memory wiped out all tabula rasa-style. What's more, those weren't the only blind spots she left investigators. She rarely faced a camera, just that once, but there were never any latents to lift. There was always a short, non-descript paper trail at each storefront scene though. She paid for whatever she took. When the vendors were asked about the entry in their ledgers in question, they said the amount was their asking price for it: no more, no less, plus tax. It wasn't just show either; the credits were in the till. The only data missing was the customer's contacts, and the serial numbers lead nowhere.

So, she was doing straight-laced business, mostly. The kosher exchange of money for goods wasn't a crime, but what came next in her MO was. As soon as the transaction ended she scrubbed her existence from the mind of the shop owner. Why go to the trouble? Burglary would probably be easier. At least it wouldn't involve as much Force use. Her hits had to be exhausting in and of themselves, but especially now since she had accelerated her timetable. Either that or the public was exceedingly nervous and reporting every instance of woolgathering. No one in their right mind, even other criminals, could blame them if that was it.

The Mind Killer was a schutta, but even a schutta didn't deserve to be nailed for supposed crimes that actually amounted to an unfired synapse or two.

There was still enough of a book to throw at her without them, if only someone could find her.

Perhaps Life Day was coming early in that regard. A secure communication had arrived to the holoterminal in Dagon Kaze's Temple quarters. Should he arrive from Denon to open it, the contents read as follows upon the glitching backdrop of a Galactic roundel:

It seemed strange, though. The hint got sent straight to him; not even CC'd to the case's head Jedi investigator, Damsy Callat.

What was that?

Why a padawan?

Well, she was a capable padawan indeed.

And, being the capable, maybe she'd catch up to him in time.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

The table lay spread with a mess of scandocs, datapads, holograms, and the likes. A crime board hung above it finishing your typical investigative scene. He'd been on Coruscant for a little while now, helping with the restoration efforts of the temple. Lay a brick here, spray some mortar there, the usual. A few sweaty sessions later and detective Brenlau, a familiar face, from the 6th precinct had him on the holo, and Dagon was back on what he did best.

Snooping.

"The Mind Killer, huh?" he asked no one in the empty room, mulling over the case. Journos really had a special way of naming stuff. With the Force concerned, it was no stretch that the lead investigator on the case ended up to be a Jedi.

And to Dagon's surprise - Damsy Callat.

...been a while.

The tip that came a moment later furrowed his brow. Level 1997.

Same level he'd first met Damsy, if he recalled right. No wonder they slapped that on her to investigate. Right? No other reason.

The Knight wanted to first investigate the scene of the last reported attack. Even if he knew that the right option would be comming his... friend, right? She was a friend, he thought.

"... I mean there was something more there..." he mumbled to himself, recalling vividly staying over her place that time they first met. But like a lot of things in his fast-paced, duty-bound life, words were left unsaid. Unspoken. Viers Connory was a similar case.

"... the ever unsolved case of 'what if.'" what if I did this, what if I did that. People, like feelings, often seemed to come and go, and all you could hope for is that their evanescent presence was one of warmth, joy, or gratitude.

But things rarely were so simple, were they?

He stared at his phone for a long, long time before he finally braved dialing Damsy.

:: Hey, Dams' - heard you were on the Mind Killer case. You, uh, wanna rendezvous somewhere? ::

If she didn't answer, he'd leave her a message - where and when.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy did answer, but only letting here comm ring like she might not. :: You got good ears on ya, Dag, :: she replied. :: Yeah, sure. 'Ow 'bout the last hit? Down on Level 2004, crux o' East Ave 917.12 an' Main Through. Mechanic shop. I can be down in ten. ::

By down she of course meant up.

Veshok Terrace Apartments were a few levels below 2004. The Reef was even further. She had been ready to hold out here until another war or something took the heat off and the Mind Killer slipped back into creepypasta obscurity. Though she loved the little sanctuary and the community she had made it for, she knew she hadn't been created for hiding—none of the Spawn had—but it was the easiest way to survive. And it was long overdue that she pitched in too, making herself scarce rather than continuing the play with fire in the form of Jedi.

Yesterday had been the perfect wake up call. It had been a big day: she had broken Alina Tremiru out of Central Detention. Ironically, it had been the Siren who had walked out of the situation with handcuffed hands, if only metaphorically. Though no one had reported involvement of the Mind Killer yet, it was only a matter of time. It was getting easier for the authorities to add two and two together than it had been when this whole thing had started. Damsy didn't mean for that to happen, nor did she even mean to go on a spree, but two and two had quickly snowballed for her as well.

She kept reminding herself that she hadn't hurt anyone, not really.

It wasn't how she slept at night; it was how she continued on awake.

:: Please— :: Arisso spoke up from somewhere behind Damsy before she hung up. She quickly did, not wanting Dag to potentially hear anymore, before turning around. The Technobeast was leaned against the doorframe leading from the control room to the qabbrat. He didn't move to stand straight under her gaze, just tightened the cross of his patchwork mechanic-organic arms over his chest. The draw of thin lips told her that he had heard everything. "—don't leave."

"I have to," Damsy argued, shaking her head. Her initial plan crumbled under the presence of Dag. He wouldn't take to being blown off. She got up from the swivel chair at her desk. "I know I said I was gon' stop playin' with the Jedi, but if I cold turkey now...they're gonna suspect too much."

"Yes, but they will either way."

"Maybe." Damsy walked over to the room's coat rack. She grabbed the scarf-jacket she did her NJO business in. Beside it was the white and gold capelet of a fugitive. "Hold do—"

"Can you confide in this Dag?"

Damsy laughed out loud, muffled then not as she pulled on her outerwear. "Hold down the fort, 'Risso," she repeated before slipping out the door opposite him onto the reception catwalk. She'd meet Dagon Kaze at the scene of the latest reported crime.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

He held the hung-up phone in his hand for a long moment trying to piece out any animosity from her voice but either she was a master voice actress or the tension since their last meeting at the mourning of the sacking had softened.

Or maybe it silently crawled beneath the layers of time and distance only to spring up at their reunion.

Only one way to find out.

Down through the underground tunnels of the New Jedi temple, he moved through passages all too familiar. Routes he knew at the back of his hand. There, across rustic mossy walls shadows of a time long past danced. Of starry-eyed children with innocence flaring within their wonderstruck glares. Ryv, Djonas, Aeris, Bernard, Loske, Maynard, and many more and many more. Some long dead. Buried in the distant and cursed sands of the Sith Worlds by a war they had not asked for. A war their supposed guides, beacons of hope - the masters of the Jedi - had silently stepped away from.

This is the best day of my life... the words of a memory rang in his mind.

The day they had become Jedi.

A day that would end only with their lives.

The longest day.

And for all the love in the galaxy he had received, the passage through these ancient ruins reminded him how lonesome he could be.

The last of a generation made to pay with their blood by a generation too craven to fight for the universe.

The crossing felt longer than it should've been. Arthur's words finally broke through the veil, reciting details of the case and scandocs he'd missed reading.

E Ave 917.12, Level 2004. One of the numerous slums of the planet-wide city. There was no direct going from here to the top, only transits. The more they could strengthen the disconnect between the lower levels and the high rises, the better the life above. The Jedi saw her figure waiting at the front of the mechanic shop and he glanced at his chrono - not too late. He dropped down from the rooftops into a side alley and walked to her without much of a sense of urgency.

"Well, well, well... lead investigator Damsy Callat." he spread his arms along with his lips into a warm grin, "It's been a while." he remarked.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Dagon Kaze​

A placid expression was all he got in return. Her lips pressed together taut across her face as if she had something to say but was holding it behind the floodgates.

A little nod and then she led him inside the storefront. The door was wide open but crossed diagonally with blaring yellow crime tape. When then ducked through and walked into the shop, it became clear why. A handful of forensic techs were working around the room—at the cashier counter, the till, an empty store rack, a windowsill, the inside of the front display—scanning for prints. Damsy scoffed under her breath and muttered under her breath, "Waste of erryone's time," before turning to Dag.

She crossed her arms. "This is the second go since I've been here," she explained. "They went over the place with a fine-toothed comb when the scene was fresher. We havta be missin' somethin', but I dunno if the Mind Killer left it for us to find."

What else was there to do besides double- and then triple-check? But all they would accomplish was scattering UV radiation all over the place. While it was pretty harmless to humanoids, it would probably have some minor effects on the merchandise.

Damsy's eyes jumped from the Jedi to the Zabrak mechanic as she glimpsed him through another open door working in the back. Speaking of double- or triple-checking, taking another statement was something they could do.

First she needed to get a weight off of her mind.

She brought her attention back to Dag. "Look, I've been hittin' a wall, so I appreciate the new eyes, but why the sudden interest?" She smiled for the first time since meeting here, and playfully swat at him before tucking her hand back against her chest. "Denon scene drying up?"

 

[Dagon Kaze]

A placid expression was all he got in return. Her lips pressed together taut across her face as if she had something to say but was holding it behind the floodgates.

She said nothing at the quip and Dagon sheepishly smiled scratching the back of his head as he followed Damsy inside the mechanic's shop. He wondered whether her tight lips were due to their, well, rocky-ish link or due to the case itself. Whatever the reason was, it would come up sooner than later.

Forensics was still canvassing the area - for the second time according to Damsy - and none the wiser. Whoever the Mind Killer was they came more than prepared not to leave any obvious trail behind. Not surprising... but still who wiped a shop clerk's mind. A mechanic shop's clerk. Not a guard at a black site, not the warden of a prison - a mechanic shop's clerk. Who and why?

The Jedi investigator had seen the footage and the only discernible trait of it was that the perpetrator was female. Great. The number of suspects had narrowed down to the mere number of... one and a half trillion. Optimistically, he hoped the Mind Killer operated in the surrounding levels. At least that would sufficiently decrease the scope of the investigation.

"Look, I've been hittin' a wall, so I appreciate the new eyes, but why the sudden interest?" She smiled for the first time since meeting here, and playfully swat at him before tucking her hand back against her chest. "Denon scene drying up?"

The suddenness in her playful shift took him by surprise and he blinked once, twice before he scoffed, "Not a million years."

"...no, we're back from the Unknown Regions for a bit before leaving again. Was helping with the temple when Detective Brenlau reached out to me." he admitted, it was no secret that the Jedi were engaged in yet another existential war against the Sith. This time in the shrouded space in the galactic northwest.

The investigator part of him wanted to ask what piece of the inventory was missing or letting her on the anonymous tip, but that part abated against his personal curiosity. His blue eyes shifted from scanning their surroundings back to her, "This case - personal?" Dams' lived nearby and from what his little birds were saying - she had become a beacon for most of the community.

Damsy Callat