The Force could control the minds of most carbon-based life forms. The dark side was even more adept at it.
John Gartler, who had been putting on an act with Palpatine for quite some time, intending to refuse him and then capture him, suddenly felt dizzy.
A thought flashed through his mind.
He is right. I should agree.
He blinked.
John instinctively resisted. Palpatine watched him struggle, his eyes filled with displeasure.
"A lowly detective," Palpatine said coldly. "I played along with you for so long, and you still want to refuse me?"
"Very well. Then I will have to use a harsher approach."
Dark Force energy erupted from Palpatine's hand. John struggled for several minutes, but in the end, he succumbed completely.
Palpatine looked at his new puppet and smiled. He ordered his lurking subordinates, "Put him on the bed. Let's go."
"Yes, Lord Sidious."
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
The next morning, John woke up rubbing his head. He felt groggy.
What happened? What on earth happened yesterday?
Oh, right. Help Chancellor Palpatine clear his name. Defeat the evil Jedi Order.
And that damn orange cat.
Something felt off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Half-asleep, he instructed his AI assistant to prepare breakfast, then boarded his flying car and headed to headquarters.
Upon arrival, the service robot guarding the entrance greeted him. "Hello, Detective John Gartler."
"Hello, C-92. How are you today?"
"Oh, not so good. The flying car incident a few days ago caused quite a bit of negative publicity. The director is trying to handle it. Given his bad mood, I suggest you don't go see him."
"Thank you for the advice, C-92."
John strolled inside. C-92 called after him, "Detective Gartler, everyone is waiting for your good news!"
Good news?
"Oh, damn it. I almost forgot."
John rubbed his forehead. He didn't seem to have gotten an autograph yesterday. What to do?
As a seasoned detective, John knew that solving cases couldn't be done sitting in an office.
After clocking in, he prepared to head out.
He turned around~
And was immediately blocked by a massive figure.
Over two and a half meters tall. A face like a rhinoceros.
John's heart skipped a beat.
It was his chief. *Harold Cooper.*
"Chief," John said quickly, "I was just about to report to you."
The massive man patted John's shoulder with his enormous, fan-like hand. John felt like his shoulder bones were about to shatter.
"John," Harold Cooper rumbled. "Come to my office."
John wanted to refuse, but his body moved involuntarily, following the chief inside.
Once inside the office, the massive man's enormous body pressed down on a specially designed chair. John could even hear the all-metal frame groaning under the weight.
"Chief," John said, "what brings you here?"
"John," Harold said, "do you know how much this case has affected us?"
"The entire galaxy's media has flocked to Coruscant, waiting for news of its resolution. Every day, all sorts of rumors circulate. You are our department's only hope."
The whole village? John thought. Well. The whole village it is.
"Chief, don't worry. I already have a general idea in mind."
The burly chief's face lit up. "Oh? What direction? Tell me."
John Gartler pointed vaguely toward the window. "I think Jean Gray discovered that High Claw's boss, Garfield the orange cat, is plotting to seize power in the Galactic Republic."
"She was silenced to prevent her from exposing him."
Harold Cooper stared at him. "You're joking, right?"
Under the chief's gaze, John shook his head. "No, I'm not joking. The Jedi Order is involved too."
Slap.
Before John could finish speaking, Harold's massive hand struck him across the face.
John flew from his chair and crashed heavily against the window. His face pressed against the glass, he slowly slid down to the floor.
After John struggled back to his feet, Harold Cooper walked up to him and said seriously, "John, do you have any idea what you just said?"
John's eyes had strange circles in them.
He seemed to be in a daze, as if he had entered another world. His eyelids grew heavy.
He closed his eyes and collapsed.
Harold Cooper watched him fall and scratched his head.
He had controlled his strength perfectly. The worst John should have suffered was a bruised face and a sore back.
Had he misjudged his strength today? Or was John, that mischievous brat, deliberately faking it?
Thinking of John's playful nature, Harold assumed he was pretending.
He ignored him, returned to his seat, and patiently waited for John to wake up.
About ten minutes later, Harold saw John's fingers twitch.
There. Faking it.
His subordinates were too mischievous, especially John Gartler.
Exceptionally intelligent, he had become the youngest detective in history after solving a special case that earned him a promotion to detective.
Over the years, he had solved numerous cases and was hailed as a rising star.
The reason Harold had slapped him today was simple.
Years ago, when Harold was young, a mission that was supposed to be a simple arrest had turned into an unexpected encounter with ruthless space pirates.
What seemed like an easy case was actually a sophisticated trap.
As a young, inexperienced officer, Harold had been completely outmatched.
At the critical moment, a Jedi Master and his Padawan had descended from the sky, lightsabers blazing.
They had slain the pirates and saved his life.
With their help, Harold had gone through a series of adventures, uncovered the truth, received a promotion, and forged an unbreakable bond with them.
Over the years, he had maintained a good relationship with the Jedi Order.
With their assistance, he had successfully solved many sensational cases and risen rapidly to become Director of Police.
Unfortunately, the Jedi Master he knew had recently passed away unexpectedly.
Harold regretted not being a member of the Order. He had only been able to see his friend one last time at the funeral.
Now, all that remained was a photograph.
Harold turned to look at the photo on his desk, himself with two Jedi. The inscription read:
*Friendship Forever. Harold Cooper, Count Dooku, Qui-Gon Jinn.*
Behind him, John Gartler sat up groggily. He looked at his chief with a blank expression.
"Why am I here?"