Mondder

I want to learn more.

A'den was cleaning and checking his gear, as he was taught.

I want to be the best Mando ever.

"How many bodies?"

A cascade of binary info filling his ears.

"Hey, hey, calm down"

The crime scene was a wide hall, probably acting as some kind of living room and reception chamber for the crime lord. There were several bodies, but many weren't whole. The droid scanned the area, hovering around, moving its photoreceptors.

"So, seven... Impresive. One is bisected and more exhibit clean severed limbs. Wounds are cauterized, very little blood: clearly, a lightsaber"

The slaughter was gruesome. Many had died trying to shield the individual on the room's back, whose body was decapitated.

"What about the head?"

Chirps.

"You can't find it?"

His fingers go across lightsaber marks on two of the columns -the second on the right and the fourth on the left, closer to the decapitated corpse- and ceiling.

"Frenzied"

He examinates the wounds on a armless alien.

"Unfocused. Most wounds were irregular, non-lethal, they died out of shock or by being stabbed repeteadly"

He stands up again. Nio adds something in binary, Rogo nods.

"Might not be a Force User, just someone using a lightsaber. Or someone very... disturbed. Still, some skill needed to kill seven gangsters, specially considering... the bulk of that Devaronian"

Rogo scratches the scarce stubble on his chin.

"Interesting. But there must be something else..."

Nio perched himself on Jan's shoulder.

"Let's check the rest of the house"

He leans under the precint left by the police, entering a hallway. Most rooms seemed irrelevant for the investigation, but the last, some kind of studio, looked somewhat akward.

"Have you noticed? The wall here makes a curve"

The night lights of Mondder were seen across the wide windows, the traffic as dense as usual. The dim-lit room was largerly illuminated by the lamps outside and the police repulsor vehicle's blue and red lights, casting deep shadows over everything.

"It shouldn't"

He passes his hand over the smooth surface, painted over with a fresco. Rogo lits his lightsaber and starts cutting through, then he pulled with the Force and revealed a small room. The inquisitor sniffs the air.

"See? The one next to this had shelves, the wall was flat. Light please"

Nio lits up and covers the small room with a white light.

"This comes as a surprise"

Inside, a young female, Arkanian, probably a teenager: she showed signs of abuse and a very clear blaster wound between her eyes. Rogo walks towards her. The body started to show the first signs of corruption, it was stiff and odorous. He then reaches her hand grabbing something, a braid.

"My, my, a padawan..."

Nio chirped with intensity.

"This case just got a lot more interesting..."

The place was completely wrecked. A white line marked the place where the body had been. Numbers sticked to floor, furniture and walls marked the evidence, the clues left behind by the murderer. It wasn't much. A bit of blood, from the victim, signs of struggle and wreckage from a heated combat. Rogo walked around the scene.

"Okay... let's think what a sleemo cop could have forgotten to check"

He crosses arms.

"They would have quickly ruled it out as some criminal vendetta, the murdered Zeltron was a thug-for-hire, or that much presumes her file"

Rogo kneels before the mark left by the body.

"Booo, booo, bit-bit, buup"

"Yes. She clearly was successful at resisting the attacker. Probably mildly Force sensitive herself? I would have to run an analysis on her blood and look for midichlorians..."

He gets on his feet again. Closes his eyes.

"I can sense there's something in here..."

Extends his right hand forward, trying to grab something on the air. Flashes. Images running through his mind.

"The couch, it wasn't placed like that. See the marks on the carpet? Probably either the killer moved it or the police..."

He pushes the furniture into its previous position, it had moved very slightly, but enough to hide something.

"Nio, light here"

"Bip bip"

Said the droid, excited.

"Ink"

Added Rogo, touching a small stain on the carpet. He produces a small device, who proceeds to run the analysis on the composition.

"Biological ink. Quarren's..."

The inquisitor puts the device back into one of his utility pouches.

"The Jedi is a Quarren..."

He stands again, pensive. Then, bolts towards the exit.

"Nio, run our database looking for warehouses in the riverfront, property of: Tiranis, name Tirango. Or some of his identified shell companies' properties in that area"

"Biiiiip"

He crossed the doorstepp in a hurry, running towards the lift. Less than a minute later he was in the cockpit, lighting up the engines. The neighbours looked between their closed shuts as the Dominador, with the crest of the diarchy and the inquisitorius corps, rose from the ground, taking flight at tremendous speed. Some would sleep badly that night. Rogo, meanwhile, flew fast enough to the riverine area of the city, sprawling with not only comercial warehouses but, also, clubs and a rancorous night life, for it was a popular area to party and commit a wide array of excesses. It was late, so the traffic was far less dense, so there weren't any obstacles to reach the target in little time.

"So?"

He said, while manouvering the ship. A stream of binary filled the cabin.

"Red light district? Really? Oh, sithspawn. Run the details on the screen... aha... An abandoned brothel... Smiling Zabrak, repurposed as warehouse of one his more legitimate bussiness ventures. It used to be... quite the place, it seems. Alright, let's go"

The chosen place looked like a suitable hideout, it was close to the river's mouth and the sea, a fitting place for a Dac native; who used to miss the salty water. Moreso, the building had several accesses, from what he could see on the floorplan, one of them being subterranean, directly connected to the sewers. Flashy neon ads started to light up the night. The street was filled with Mondder's scum and villany on that part of the 'hood, including scores of slicers, robbers, murderers, gangsters, prostitutes and addicts. Many ran away when they heard the ominous roar of the TIE engines, other sought shelter inside locals of ill repute, some even stood still looking with dead empty eyes at the starfighter closing by. Rogo landed, close to the repurposed brothel. He started up the security systems, bio-locking the start up systems and the hatch's opening lever to his signature.

"Yeah, I don't want to get robbed of my TIE on my first assignment, would be lame"

He also warned the police and the Inquisitors' headquarters about his last known location and its purpose. Once outside he placed a hand on the belt, close the lightsaber, while Nio perched on his shoulder. And Ithorian stepped back into the night. A sick-looking and pale Mon Calamari was unconscious on the steps leading into the property. Rogo didn't even look at him, just pushed him away and broke the lock with the Force...