| abstract | - Jali Dawler opened the flat-file and removed several items. He placed them on his desk one by one. A few holopics, several hard copies of documents, and a datachip. Cel’uura’na, a Nikto, studied the holopics, her finned face showing no emotion, her black eyes perfectly neutral. Jali made no comment; he drew on his cigarette and tried not to watch her. She was only one of the many women who came into his office that asked if there husband was seeing someone else. And she was only one of the many women he had to break the bad news to. When her gaze moved from the holopics to the documents, Jali felt that he should say something. “The top two pages are summaries of the places he’s been over the past week,” he told her. “Then there’s a few transcripts of…conversations.” Cel’uura’na looked up at this and Jali averted her gaze, remembering with some amusement the length he had had to go to get the transcripts. If Cel’uura’na hadn’t specifically requested them, he probably wouldn’t have bothered. “The datachip is the electronic copy of everything here, plus some more,” Jali continued. He usually presented his clients with an abridged version in the folder with the bulk in electronic form. It saved printing costs, and he wasn’t that keen to throw money away like that. “Is this going to be all that you’ll need?” He assumed that she would file for divorce, most of them did after they left his office. Sometimes, if they asked, he referred them to a lawyer he knew and would slip him a few creds for a referral, but from the look that Cel’uura’na was giving him, Jali had the impression she had other ideas. She took up the datachip and examined it for a moment, she then looked up. “Yes.” Cel’uura’na gave him a hard stare, her words came out in a low hiss. “You have performed well, detective,” she said. “I will no longer need your services. As for my husband…” Her eyes flashed darkly as she said the words. Jali wanted to question her intentions, but decided not to. He knew that infidelity was dealt with in many different ways, depending on species or culture. Besides, it wasn’t really his business to interfere. After all, he was no longer a Security Officer. “All right then.” Jali grabbed a scrap of flimsy, he scribbled something on it then handed it to Cel’uura’na. “Give this to Miss Retov, she’ll let you know how much and how to pay.” As if on cue, the comm unit on his desk buzzed. Jali pressed the button. “Mr Rinner is here,” said Ayan Retov, Jali’s secretary. “Send him in,” Jali told her, rising from his seat and seeing Cel’uura’na to the door. Jali slid open the door to let the Nikto out just as a tall, red-haired male in his mid-twenties was placing down a magazine in the waiting room. He was tall and lanky, with the pasty skin that was characteristic of redheads, and dressed in a brown, synthleather sleeveless tunic over a cream shirt. He looks like he just got out of amateur’s school, Jali said to himself; but he was the best of the not very desirable applicants Jali had interviewed. He started to walk towards Jali, his face posing a question. Jali cocked his head to one side. “Xhen Rinner?” There was a nod in reply, Jali moved out of the doorway. “Step into my office,” he said, closing the door behind them. Jali slid into the chair behind his desk, stubbed out the spent cigarette he was holding and lit up another. He offered the packet to Xhen but he declined. Jali took a deep draw then rested the cigarette against the ashtray. It had been about a year since he had got out of prison, nine months since his record had been cleared, and four months since Tira’s trial. Tira Sengel, his former girlfriend, murderer of his best friend and victim of the criminal organisation the Silver Ring, was serving her two sentences in a maximum security prison on Coruscant. Jali tried not to think about her, and in the months since he had set up his private detective agency it wasn’t that hard. Was it only seven months since he had been granted his license? It seemed much longer, even given the few cases that he had taken. A month after that he had set up his office in a mid-level building in Eastport. The rent was high, but that was the way it was on Coruscant. A Sullustan would even call it cramped, and there was the faint smell of rancid cheese that he hadn’t been able to banish. There was the Zabrak secretary, Ayan Retov, who despite her accomplishments handling his appointments and records made stimcaf with a texture that was reminiscent of steamed hawk-bat leavings. This was why Jali bought a large flask of it every morning. It was still over half-full and he offered some to Xhen who declined. Jali poured himself a generous mug then stubbed out his cigarette. He leaned back in his chair and studied Xhen for a few minutes. “Well,” Jali said at last, “before we start anything, I’ll tell you what to expect. I'm going to let you run by my side for a bit before I let you loose on a case. It’s nothing against you, it’s just so I can see how you operate.” Xhen started to object. “But my old boss on Muscave—” Jali waved this concern away. “I know what he said when I talked to him, but there are things that I just like to find out for myself.” “That’s understandable,” Xhen agreed. “You’ll find that most of the cases aren’t very interesting,” Jali continued. “Private investigation is a lot tamer than what’s shown on the HoloNet. Most of the cases are divorces or divorce-related, checking up on husbands or wives to give them evidence to take to court. Then there’s the missing persons cases, but I don’t get very many of those.” He took a sip of stimcaf then put down his mug. “Occasionally,” he added, picking up the cigarette again, “a different case will come. Like last week when I was asked to triple-check a senator’s security system.” “Don’t they have their own security?” Xhen asked, intrigued. Jali shrugged. “Yeah, they do, but I didn’t ask.” He took a draw from the cigarette. “There’s some limited equipment for surveillance, you can probably guess why, and I’d prefer if you weren’t so liberal in your printouts. Case files are stored on datacards, the client gets a chip of their file if they want more records and Ayan does all the accounting.” He took another draw from the cigarette and tapped out the ash. “Any questions?” “Yeah, a few,” said Xhen. “Where will I be working?” “There’s a small office down the corridor next to the refresher,” Jali told him, stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray. “And before you ask, I can’t do anything about the smell.” “I can live with that,” Xhen said. Before Xhen could say something else, the comm unit on Jali’s desk buzzed. With a wry smile at Xhen, Jali activated it. “Deri Lanco is here,” Ayan said. “Will I send him in?” “Sure,” Jali said, “just a few minutes.” Jali got up from his desk and Xhen followed him to the door. “How ‘bout you get acquainted with your office, you can start tomorrow.” “Sounds fine, Mr Dawler,” Xhen said. “By the way,” Jali said as he opened the door, “the name’s Jali.” He offered his hand to Xhen and they shook, then he opened the door and nodded to the male Falleen waiting outside. From Star Wars Fanon, a Wikia wiki.
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