CHAPTER TWO
Captain Wallen Nix, detective for the Galactic Alliance Intelligence Service, frowned at the dead Bothan laying before him. In the corner of the apartment room was the man's Mirialan fiancée, who was sobbing uncontrollably while Wallen's partner, Taaku, tried to calm her down.
The Coruscant police had already investigated the scene, indicated by the laser outline surrounding the Bothan's corpse, as well as the warning signs placed in the room and outside the complex. But they clearly did not find anything, or else they would not have called in a detective like Wallen.
Skimming the notes he had put down on his datapad, Wallen turned to the Mirialan and said, "Did Loth Ja'far have any rivals at work? Or any sort of enemies?"
Her blue eyes brimmed with tears, the Mirialan said, "He was just an accountant! Who would make enemies with an accountant?"
Wallen frowned. "Just thought I'd ask. Did Ja'far have any hobbies or other work?"
The green-skinned woman bit her nails. "He did like to visit the Outlander Club to relieve stress from work, but I almost always accompanied him, and he didn't seem to have any trouble there."
After typing in a few more notes on his datapad, Wallen said, "One last thing, and I'm sure you've already told the police this, but how long have you known Ja'far?"
"Five years," the Mirialan sniffled.
Nodding solemnly, Wallen asked the woman for her name, thanked her for her services, and gave his condolences before leaving the apartment with Taaku. As the two of them headed for their airspeeder outside, Wallen's Rodian partner said, "You don't suppose she could've killed him, do you?"
Wallen smirked. "The first suspect is rarely the right one. Let's head for the Outlander Club and find some clues there. She did say that she only 'almost' always went with Ja'far."
Departing from the complex, the airspeeder made its way towards the Uscru Entertainment District, parking at Vos Gesal Street right before the Outlander Club itself. The bar had changed significantly following its shutdown during the Empire's reign. It was now quieter, less packed, and with not nearly as many neon lights.
As the two detectives entered the club, they were instantly hounded by a Xexto death stick dealer, but he immediately ran off when Wallen brandished his badge. He and Taaku then made their way towards the counter, where an Amani bartender greeted them.
"What will it be?" the tall and lanky planarian hissed.
"Information," Wallen said. "A Bothan named Loth Ja'far tended to visit here, did he not?"
The Amani's red eyes narrowed, his long, thin mouth frowning. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
"He's dead," Wallen replied. "We're trying to find who killed him. His fiancee, Myra Kishanti, said he often came here."
"Not while I was at work," the bartender said. "I work the day shift. You can try talking to the night shift manager. He's a Twi'lek called Vuren Rackus. Lives near the Galactic Market."
Wallen nodded and thanked the Amani for his info before grudgingly giving a credi-chip to the bartender for "wasting his time." As the duo walked out of the club, he quietly said to Taaku, "Make sure I don't throw out the entire contents of my pockets just to find a murderer, no matter what I say."
"I'll try," the Rodian replied.
* * *
Careful... careful...
Vuren Rackus bit his lip as he tried to steady the delicate model ship he had just finished. He had long been a fan of ship designs, particularly ones used by the Old Republic that were no longer in service.
The latest of his creations, the paint having just dried, was the Endar Spire, a Hammerhead-class cruiser that crashed on Taris during the Jedi Civil War. With patience and caution, he finally fit the model next to those of the Diligence and the Leviathan. Satisfied with himself, Rackus stepped back and brushed off his hands, admiring his work.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Rackus cried out as the room shook slightly, enough to cause the Endar Spire model to slide off its shelf and crash to the floor, becoming a pile of dust.
"Spawn of a murglak!" Rackus screamed. "I've been working on that for nearly a year!" He stormed over to the door and opened it to confront the wrongdoer. "What the kark? Don't you know there's a buzzer? I'd outta-"
He went silent when the barrel of a blaster pressed against his head. A shot from the rifle ensured his silence for good.
* * *
"This is bad."
Wallen sighed as he crouched down next to the dead Twi'lek. "Thank you for being the master of understatements, Taaku. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Got any others?"
"Uh, sure," the Rodian said, unsure if Wallen was being sarcastic. "Maybe the murderer's onto us and is eliminating any possible connections."
"That's very plausible," Wallen said. "But then why would he or she leave a clue behind?"
"Huh?"
Wallen stood up and showed Taaku a snippet of wood he had found next to Rackus' body. Carved into it was a symbol that vaguely resembled a skull of some sort.
Scrutinizing it, Taaku said, "Is that...?"
Wallen nodded. "The Mandalorian symbol. Clearly our murderer has something to do with them."
"So what do you suppose we do? Just go to Mandalore and start throwing out random accusations?"
"Well, we have to start somewhere."
"Yeah, but we don't know the first thing of interacting with Mandalorians."
"True," Wallen murmured. "But I might know someone who does."
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