3-5 INQUISITION

“Um, yeah. Did Knight Ryker have any prior history with asthma? Maybe when she was much younger? Maybe it was cured and then it came back.”

Master Lasah thinks for a second, then taps at her datapad. “Perhaps. Asthma cannot be cured, but the symptoms can disappear as a child ages. And, sometimes it can indeed relapse. However… from our records, it seems that she did not have asthma in the past.”

“Oh. Well then, maybe we should go to the morgue?” you say, twisting your tone into a mixture of statement and question. You don’t really want to tell Master Lasah what to do. It’s not like you’re the expert here! “Maybe we can find something that the autopsy didn’t reveal. We might find something in the Force.”

It seems you are indeed a budding investigator, however, as Master Lasah nods in approval and says, “A solid choice. My thoughts exactly. It might even be better to visit the morgue before heading to the scene, simply for the purpose of saving time. Ah, and perfect timing too.”

She turns to the door watching as a pair of humans make their way down the hallway to you, followed by a singular droid. One of them is the officer that had greeted the two of you earlier. Quickly, you slip your headband back on and position yourself next to Master Lasah, staring at the door empty-eyed.

A knock sounds out from the door a moment later and Master Lasah bids the officers in. Without pause, she swiftly informs them of your decision to head to the morgue and politely requests a ride which is quickly obliged.

Soon, the two of you pile into a civilian airspeeder — Master Lasah behind the wheel with you riding shotgun. In the rear rides the Guardian droid that accompanied the officers. And then, you’re on your way.

Master Lasah, you surreptitiously speak to Master Lasah with your telepathy, Why didn’t the officers come with us?

Master Lasah is surprisingly quick to respond, letting her thoughts bubble up to the surface where you can easily interpret them. This is Jedi business. We have a mixed relationship with CorSec. Sometimes they appreciate our assistance. Other times they do not. And, as the deceased in this incident is a Jedi, they would much rather steer clear and let us handle things. To them, whatever killed the warrior-space-mystic is likely far more than they wish to handle.

You adapted to telepathy really quickly, you observe.

It is unseemly to brag, but… yes. I am quite good at making do when needed. Your telepathy is an obviously powerful tool and requires almost no effort from me. Leveraging it as soon as possible is my goal and from this conversation, I assume I have succeeded.

Yeah! You’re amazing!

Master Lasah’s mouth curls into the slimmest of smiles, so small you probably wouldn’t have seen it if you couldn’t also see the glimmer of satisfaction in her psyche.

“I think you’re allowed to brag a little bit,” you say out loud.

“No, no. Never. It is the Jedi way to be humble in the face of even the greatest of accomplishments such as this, and I am the most humble of Jedi. I have standards.”

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She flashes you a brief grin then puts her attention back on the skylane ahead. It seems she does have a sense of humor!

A short while later, Master Lasah drops the speeder into a parking spot in between two large buildings: one of which is the morgue, the other is a packed office building. As the two of you step out of the speeder, followed by the droid, you watch in bemusement as a group of well dressed men and women standing in the alleyway drop their glowing cigarettes and bolt into the back of the office building. The door slams shut behind them.

“Master Lasah, what was that?”

“Hmm. I am not entirely sure, but I presume they thought we were here to confiscate their death sticks.”

“Death sticks?”

“A narcotic. Illegal, but commonly used throughout the underworld.”

“This is the ‘underworld?’ There’s nothing above us but sky.”

“Indeed. That is why they were so skittish; up here, it is not an accepted substance. They will be punished if caught.” Master Lasah turns toward the droid as it clambers out of the speeder. “Did you record them?”

The droid replies with a slow, staccato voice, tinged with static, “Yes, Master Jedi. I have sent their profiles to headquarters for analysis and processing.”

“Good. Now, let us go.”

The two of you, followed by the droid, make your way into the morgue’s reception area. A moment later, a technician makes their way forward, forewarned of your entrance by the cameras outside. She, a human woman, seems taken aback by the appearance of two masked Jedi — a reaction you think will be rather common in the near future.

“Ah, um. Master Jedi…?” she says, trailing off into a question. “Are you here about, er, Ja - Jus - J… Miss Raker?”

“Justinia Ryker,” Master Lasah corrects her.

Embarrassment surges within the technician but she pushes forward through it, merely nodding. She turns — possibly to keep the blush of humiliation out of sight — and steps quickly further into the morgue. Master Lasah turns to you and gives a small shrug, then follows along with you and the droid close behind.

The technician, her name still unknown, makes small, unsure steps as she proceeds. She seems to linger at each door she passes, possibly reading the names of the bodies interred within before moving on. It’s a bit odd that there’s so many rooms here. There’s no way so many bodies would need to be processed at a time, right?

No. That’s not correct. You too, check the rooms, simply looking through with your Force Sight. Most of the rooms don’t have bodies. Most of the rooms aren’t even relevant! These rooms are offices, storage rooms, and supply closets. It appears that this morgue serves double-duty; partly for bodies, partly for mass storage of forensic evidence.

Then again, you suppose the former also counts as the latter.

Finally, you see what appears to be the right room up ahead. Several rows of bodies line a wall within the room, and both you and Master Lasah subtly speed up as you near it. It seems that the technician subconsciously notices too as her heart rate increases slightly. She looks up, noticing that the two Jedi are suddenly next to her and chokes back a yelp.

“This one,” Master Lasah says, pointing at the room.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

The technician pulls a ring of keys from her pocket, the jangling grating on your ears. Another yelp emits from the technician as the jangling turns into a harsh crash against the floor. She leans down, swipes it back up, then shoves a random key into the lock. She twists it with desperation, and in doing so snaps the key in half in her panic.

Wrong key, apparently.

She freezes, tears forming in her eyes, but she’s trapped — unable to simply flee from her shame in front of a master Jedi. Thankfully, Master Lasah takes pity on her, and without even a hint of the annoyance you know she feels, uses the Force to turn the lock and handle from the other side of the door.

Without a word, she strides in.