Its Just the Job (Invite-able)

[Jonas T. Remkah]

OOC: Please PM me for invite into this thread.
*************************************

<u>Precinct #27 - Old Coruscant Indig. Quarter </u>



Kajeela slapped the perp hard across the head, knocking him halfway off his chair so that he had to grip the cold metal table to stop from sprawling headlong on the floor.

Remkah sat sipping his coffee idly, as he waited for the interogatee to re-right himself in the chair and return to him his interupted attention.

"It'd go easier if you'd stop lying, Benny"

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Benny glared up at Remkah, feeling it more prudent to protest his injured civil rights to the quiet, level-spoken detective rather than to his heavy-handed Cizerack partner.

"I told you I wasn't there!" he mewled loudly.

Kajeela raised her hand to inspect her fingernails, making Benny jerk warily away from her in his chair.

"Thjatsss not whjat that blood on jyourrr ssshjirrrt sssjaysss" she observed mildly.

Benny directed his answer to Remkah, his hopes obviously still pinned soundly on the human's compassion, while guiltily wiping down the red smears that were clearly visible on his cheap polyester clothing.

"I can explain that" he said with less confidence.

Kajeela whacked him again, this time from the other side of the head.

"Ooowww!"

"The trrrruth, ssscumbag. jIts nearrrljy lunchtjime and jIm tjirred of ljissstenjing to jyou whjine"

Remkah leaned forward to offer some helpful encouragment to Benny. "She gets violent when she's hungry, just so you know.."

Benny slid a furtive glance over to Kajeela, who bared a wide grin at him, revealing two rows of white, pointy little teeth.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

"I got there after..after it all wen-went down"

Benny's stammering and constant rapid tapping of one foot beneath the table did nothing to convince the two questioners of his truthfullness.

Benny seemed to sense this and, in an effort to appear more convincing, planted his foot flat to the floor. This, however, caused his finger to tap nervously in place as it rested on the table top, irrititating an already short-tempered Kajeela.

"Bennjy, Bennjy, Bennjy" Kajeela tsked his name and shook her head slowly. "Whjy do jyou jinsssisst on takjing usss forrr jidjiotsss?"

Benny opened his mouth to reply, but as the Cizerack detective grabbed him roughly by the back of his shirt collar and hoisted him out of his chair, whatever he had been about to say was lost in the shock her action gave him.

The hjuman was like bones on a stick - thin as a rail and as gangly. With the felinoid's natural strength, it took no effort to wrench Benny clean off his feet before he found strength in his knees again to stand.

Kajeela leaned her petite nose close to her quarry and flattened her ears in a very unnerving fashion.

"We know jyou are one of the Cljandjinji famjily's ljittle rrratsss that scjurrjy the sssewerrrsss of thjis cjitjy. Dont thjink we have'nt had ourrr ejyesss on jyou forrr a long tjime"

Benny ventured a glance at Remkah, who sagely nodded, indicating that this information was true.

"And dont thjink that thejy aren't awarrrre thjat we have jyou..jYou know what that meanssss, dont jyou?"

Kajeela let this notion settle on Benny for a moment before continuing. The Clandini's would assume Benny was singing like the proverbial canary and for him, all bets were off. The gravity of his predicament seemed to hit him all at once, and the air quite literally escaped out of his undernourished body, causing him to deflate visibly before them.

Kajeela smiled in satisfaction. Prrrogrrressss.

She plonked Benny back down in the seat and then she herself sat half-on, half-off the table beside him.

"Ssssso.....jyou werrre telljing ussss about the blood..."

[Jonas T. Remkah]

<u>12:45 pm Precinct #27 - Detective Tarruurri's office</u>



Tarruurri sat with the ends of her boots hooked the an edge of the bookshelf, leaning back in her chair, its creaking spine protesting to the abuse, and finished the remnants of her bantha burger double-slammer.

The seasame seed bun disappeared behind her pert lips and a rough pink tongue emerged on a seek and consume mission for any escaping crumbs, mustard or hotsauce loitering on mouth and chin.

Remkah reached forward from his own chair on the opposite side of the desk and handed her another paper napkin. He knew there wasn't much point - Kajeela insisted on using her tongue to clean up lunch. Every day it was the same thing.

Jonas sucked back some cola through a way too thin straw and made gurbling noises as he hit the baricade of ice that was inevitably, and typically, taking up half the cardboard cup. He wondered why he bought this crap.

Giving up on his drink, he returned to their conversation of Benny's interrogation.

"I thought he would'a give us more to run with, Jeels. I didn't expect him to clam up like that. Guess he's more afraid of Joey Clandini than he is o' us."

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela curled her hand into a fist and tapped her chest lightly, expelling a post-burger burp. It sounded like a childs hiccup. She'd never really mastered the art of the hjumanojid skill for gross-out. She'd have to keep practicing.

"Hje's not afrrrajid of usss." she observed with certainty. "Half the perrrps in Sjing-Sjing belong to Joejy Clandjini" (she always called any detentional facility Sing Sing, no matter what degree of security the prison was. Lockup was lockup. Sing-Sing.) "Hje'd be dog-mjeat the momjent hje ssstjepped jinsjide."

She shrugged and dropped her feet off the shelf with a thud, sitting forward.

"Ourrr Bennjy jis not assss dopejy assss he looksss. Luckjy forrr hjim. becaussse jhe rrrealljy jis goofjy lookjing, dont jyou thjink?"

Remkah had to agree. Benny was one of the many poor souls who were just plain old unattractive. He was long and lanky and had a plain face where only his dull unintelligent eyes were his only appealing feature. His hair was mangy and grew in patches on his almost-pointy head. Poor Benny, even his own genes were against him. He'd probably been picked on and bullied around his whole life. Jonas shrugged. The gods decided the ugly and the beautiful, the smart and the stupid. One could only do the best with what they got. Benny had been doing just that, only he hadnt' made too many good choices. His latest one however, not ratting out Joey-C, was one of his few right ones.

"Yeah, he is a bit weird lookin" Remkah agreed. "So what now - take a ride?"

Kajeela grabbed up her badge and blaster even as Remkah made his suggestion.

"Wje take a rrrjide" she confirmed. "jI wanna sssee thjat crrrjime ssscene agajin"

As she passed before Jonas, waiting for him to close the office door after them, she said over her shoulder, "We'll get an jicecrrream on the wajy."

[Gheb Cahran]

He liked simple plans.

It was too bad that this particular plan wasn't as simple as Gheb preferred. Granted, Clandini's man had made it clear to him and the credits had spoken loudly. His account showed it clearly: 15,000 Imperial Credits were awaiting confirmation for a transfer.

He really liked simple plans.

"I hate complicated plans," he said under his breath as he hopped out of his speeder. Parked about two blocks south of the depot, Gheb checked his blasters. The twin, heavily modified DL-44 hold-out blasters were always kept stashed on both sides of his torso. Both energy cells were completely full. His stride quickened with adrenaline as he made his way to the door.

The Security Depot was heavily guarded - detectives, soldiers, any other security personnel. No one expected a hit, at least not on an average day, but there was plenty of opposition. This had to be quick.

He entered the office.

"Can I help you?" A very unenthusiastic Twi-Lek greeted him without looking up.

"Yeah, I'm picking up a friend of mine. He should be in a holding cell, maybe just got out."

"You've got a friend here?" The Twi-Lek laughed to herself. "What's his name?"

"Benny. Graddin, Benny Graddin." Gheb scanned the lobby. Two security officials. That was it.

"Well, Benny is being held overnight. Detective's orders. He's scheduled to be interrogated again tomorrow morning." The Twi-Lek didn't budge.

"So, can I see 'im?" Gheb felt like he was pushing too hard. He felt like he was getting suspicious.

"No. You can't. You'll just have to wait."


----------


There was always another way in.

"Frell this plan sucks," he said as he stood near the back dumpster. Luckily, this building still operated under city sanitation. He'd been waiting for an hour or two, but that was the way it went sometimes.

Finally. Pay off.

The janitor stepped out, only for a minute, into the poorly lit alley to dump his trash. Hopefully, if Gheb was lucky, this would be one of many staffers that would go unnoticed. He raised one of his blasters, which was carefully suppressed with a heavy silencer.

THAK THAK

The shots were quick and the janitor surely felt no pain. His body dropped. He was slightly heavier than Gheb, but the jumpsuit would fit. The badge, the scancard, and the garbage cart were much more important.

-----------------------

"Benny," the door opened quickly. "Let's go."

"B-b-but who-who-who are y-you?" Benny was obviously frail and nervous.

"I'm a friend, we'll talk later," Gheb commanded. He opened the top of the garbage cart and gestured that Benny get in. Benny followed - luckily, because something told Gheb they were running out of time.

Ushering past a security office, Gheb almost jogged to the back door. He tried to keep his cool, but adrenaline was pumping. As he neared the exit - and the promised land - the job took a turn for the worse.

"Hey you!" The door was open and there were two securty officers palming their blasters. "Stop right there!"

Gheb didn't take a second to react. He kicked the garbage cart as hard as he could down the remaining meters of the hall. He heard Benny groan as the cart slammed into the lower body of both of the guards. His blasters flashed a second before either of the officers could raise their own as the shots rang out.

THAK THAK . . . THAK-THAK

Both officers dropped. Gheb wasn't one to miss.

"Benny, get out. We've got to run."

He really, really, really liked simple plans.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Stepping under the standard-issue yellow police tape that criss-crossed the doorway of the crime scene - a typical box-shaped apartment in a typical low-middle class building - Kajeela wrinkled her nose in objection.

The place still reeked of 'dead'. The stale smell of blood and expended body fluids, investigative chemicals used by the forensic guys from earlier that morning, sour milk and burnt coffee - all assulted her highly developed sense of smell like a thick vapor wrapping around her head and cloiying at her senses. Tarruurri paused momentarily to consider the wisdom of that second icecream cone. Naah, it was worth it.

Alert felinoid eyes swept the room once again where Adriod Temma had been killed. The tipped over lamp, the broken cereal bowl, whose blue trimmed peices still lay scattered on the floor, oatmeal congealed like cement in some of them. It was obvious Temma had been taken by surprise just as he was beginning the last day of his life.

Remkah used a pen to lift a blood-spattered handkerchief off the threadbare sofa cushion and gave his partner an odd look.

"Didn't our guy get it in the side of the head?"

Kajeela nodded the affirmative. "Majybe he wasss cryjing forr merrrcjy beforrrre Bennjy popped hjim"

Remkah gave her a "what?" look not sure if she was trying to make a joke. She often did that, Kajeela did. Hadn't quite got it down as to where and when humor (or lack of it as in this case) was appropriate. Sometimes she was just so alien in her ways.

"What jI dont get" she cut in on Remkah's thoughts, "jIsss whjy "thjisss" gujy? He'sss jussst a laborrrourrr, a brjick-lajyer. Whjy wasss jit jimporrrtant forrr Joejy-Ceee to get rrrjid of hjim?"

[Jonas T. Remkah]

"You still think its Clandini?"

It was more a statment than a question, but Jonas didn't readily see the mobster's connection in all this either.

If Joseph Clandini was going to take out someone, he usually did it in such a manor that there was no doubt whatsoever that his was the order that pulled the trigger finger.

"What did this Temmo guy know...thats what we gotta find out"

Remkah began rifling through drawers and cupboards while Kajeela stood there just looking over the room, and brooding.

"Jeels" Remkah pointed to her hip, "You got your comm on silent?"

Kajeela looked to the small hip-holster where her communicator was clipped. It was flashing a brilliant green on its side. HQ was trying to reach her.

"Dannnjg"

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Pulling a gunning speeder into a cluttered artery of a Coruscant City traffic lane was always a dodgy enterprise, but doing so with a furious cizerack seated beside you, who was in a high state of agitation and was gesticulating wildly as she cursed in expletive-laden Cizerack every idiot born to man, Gungan and Bith who had ever pinned an Imperial Center police badge to their chest, was a terror of a whole different kind. Remkah bit down hard on his teeth and focused all his attention on the spacelane and weaving in and out between vehicles, accellerating in jolting bursts in order to return them to the precinct asap.

Benny had escaped. Or was escaping. The report wasn't exactly clear. The imbeciles at dispatch had to keep stopping and starting their communcations to dodge laser fire, or some such rubbish.

"Lassserrr fjirrre jin the prrrecjinct??" Kajeela had never heard of such nonsense.

"Wherrre jisss mjy prrrjisssonerrr?" she screamed into the communicator, impotent fury punching down the line with each word, quailing the receiving operator on the other end.

She smashed her fists on the dash in frustration and did her best to reign in her ire as she called to her partner, "Fasssterrr!"

[Gheb Cahran]

The garbage cart wasn't going to hold much longer. Gheb had kicked it over to provide a short - but somewhat sturdy - barrier for he and benny to duck behind as several security officers unleashed blaster fire at the two from around the corner. Benny looked . . . pathetic, was a good word. He couldn't stop shaking and his face was the same color as a rotten muja fruit. Gheb would've loved another shooter beside him, but Benny wasn't the one. He was better off alone.

As usual.

"Benny, listen to me carefully." Gheb slumped back down after firing off a couple more warning shots. He released a spent blaster cell, replacing it with another from his belt. "We have to go. Backup is on the way and this spit canister ain't gonna hold up any longer, you get me?" Benny nodded in agreement.

Gheb needed a diversion for them to escape the alley. He knew just the thing. Reaching around his torso, he pulled a small clump of what looked like chewed up gum from a belt pouch. It was duraplastik explosives. Dangerous stuff.

Carefully throwing it over the garbage cart, the explosives came to rest about two meters in front of the guards. Leaning around the edge, Gheb fired about three bolts at the explosives.

kaaaaa-BOOOOOOM!

The blast shook the alleyway, releasing a cloud of duraconcrete dust and litter into the air. The cloud was thick and black - the perfect curtain. Gheb grabbed Benny by the arm and shuffled him towards into another twisted alleyway. They were two blocks from his speeder. Hopefully, with enough turns, they could lose the bulk of their pursuers.

Gheb kept a careful watch over his shoulder either way.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

The rear of the speeder swung round, threatening to overtake the frontend as Remkah fishtailed around an enormous tourist barge and cut across the intersecting right-of-way lanes to straighten up again in the opposite direction. "Shortcut" he explained economically.

Kajeela could feel her recently consumed icetreat making a bid at a reappearance as her stomach lifted with the speed and motion. They couldn't make a stop soon enough for her liking.

Remkah was an outstanding driver. To any ordinary onlooker, he was recklessly endangering every other being within his vehicals trajectory. But Tarruurri knew he was an expert at this type of thing and, in fact, thrived on the split-second judgments and actions that kept himself and anyone else in his immediate vicinty from becoming an instant grease smear inside a burning, twisted heap of metal. But that was small comfort where her protesting digestive system was concerned. And speaking of burning, twisted metal -- black acrid smoke was billowing into view some five or six blocks ahead of them.

"That looksss prrrettjy clossse to the prrrecjinct.."

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Running adroit fingers across his digiscreen, Remkah initiated a navcomp quick-check to confirm Kajeela's observation.

"As close as a tick on a wamprats butt"

Both detectives swivelled their heads, not in the direction of the precinct, but in every other avenue away from it. The smoke made it obvious there was no point trying to close the barn door - the horse had already bolted and would be fleeing away from the billowing cloud.

"I cant see a damn thing"

On instinct, Remkah made a hard left and began to speed down a side lane. After three blocks, he took a right, then another coming back up a block nearer.

Tarruurri's sharp eye's caught them before he did. "Therrre!" she pointed pinning them with a finger.

Pulling recklessly into the oncoming stream of traffic was a mid-size speeder, Benny's distinctive pointy head clearly visible rising up out of the passenger seat side.

"Thatsss Bennjy!"

[Gheb Cahran]

Frell!

Even though he'd managed to shake the Security Corps, he still had a tail. The speeder whipped around - mid-traffic - and flicked on a dash light to show its true colors. Detectives.

"Sithspit," Gheb swore. "Benny - we need some cover here." Gheb slid one of his blaster pistols out of its side holdster, sliding it across to Benny. He hit the power switch on the rear view-window of the speeder, the pane duraplastic sliding into the body into an open window.

"But, I'm not. . .I mean, I can't - I mean -"

"Just get to shootin, Benny!" Gheb shouted over the sound of his roaring engine as he narrowly missed an oncoming speeder. The wind whipped through the speeder in light of the open window as the pilot concentrated on the drive. Hopefully, if things could go well enough, Benny would be severely injured in the crossfire.

Sure enough, Benny's lack of confidence rightly evaluated his skill as he fired a random burst of shots in the general direction of their pursuers. As far as he could tell, none of the shots had met their mark. Gheb sighed. This was going to be a long day.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

"That ljittle weasssle'sss ssshootjing at usss!" Tarruurri was as shocked as she was annoyed. Benny was a punk, a rat. He didnt shoot at her! "Qujick, wherrre arrre the grrrenadesss, Remkah?" She'd blow that little worm to oblivion.

Remkah swerved to avoid a wild laser bolt, but sensed no real danger from Benny's efforts. Grenades were a tad bit overkill, so he left them in the compartment where they were stored. Benny the scumbag was more concerned with hiding as best he could and firing at them by reaching his arm up blindly and pulling the trigger. It would be just plain unlucky for them to be hit.

"Aaaah!" Kajeela squawked as a brilliant red bolt buried itself into the right rear side of their speeder. "Thjat ljittle jidjiot could kjill ussss both -- catch them up!"

Kajeela then clambered up and pushed herself half-way through the passenger window, hanging out of it cowboy-style and firing twin blasters from both hands at the fleeing vehicle. Wind whipping about her hair made it difficult to really aim, but her instincts were good and she nailed a couple of hits off trunk and roof. Benny's gangly arm disappeared completely from view.

Pulling herself back inside having quelled the immediate danger for the moment, she puzzled over the point of anyone making a jail-break for such a waste of space as was Benny. She smelt they had stumbled into something much, much bigger than just a dead guy in the 'burbs. Excitement made her clip her words, "We got to grrrab up these two aljive, Jonasss. Get me along sssjide."

[Jonas T. Remkah]

The ICPD (Imperial Center Police Department) was not exactly known for throwing money into their force. They didnt have all the latest and greatest of equipment and technology available to the average lowly departments whose job it was to protect the city. That was the right of the Empire's military forces - the Inquisitoriate, and its like. To get anything worth having on the regular force, one had to submit a requesition, send a memo, consult a committee, maybe cut out a beating heart or even sell a soul or two <i>just</i> to get some low-level number-cruncher refuse it out of hand as not being part of the quarterly budget.

Take the yellow crime-scene tape for instance. How archaic and impractical was that? Precint 85 had one of those holoforce CSI guards that zapped the cajones off any unauthorized entry beyond its laserlines, but it had taken months for the equipment to be approved and twice as long as that for it to arrive. And that precinct had the govenors son as chief who pulled some favors to get the approval.

It was a joke, really. The ICPD was made to feel like the poor cousin of the starving neighbour of the guy who once knew an Imperial PN pot scrubber.

You could say Remkah was bitter as he broiled these thoughts in his head while trying to coax some extra guts out of his already labouring vehicle. The whole crate was shaking and vibrating and Jeels sitting beside him was rolling her eyes again. It was nothing new.

He was getting too old for chasing bad guys who had faster, newer speeders than him. Why the heck was he in this crap job?

"Good! Good, you'rrre gajinjing Rem" Kajeela encouraged excitedly.

Kajeela. She was why he was still here. Doing the job. Saving the city. Serving the people. She'd laugh if she knew how she inspired him. Remkah had lived a tough life, been round the block or two, but Kajeela's remarkable dedication to her calling and committment to justice had been something refreshing that gave him a reason to wake up every morning. She gave him hope in a galaxy that had very little of such a commodity. Corny, but it was the truth.

"Come on baby... Come on baby" he purred to his engine. Sweet talk always got the goods.

Swooping in and out, weaving and darting. What seemed like an impossible task, Jonas gained on the getaway speeder and began to nose up along side it. Revving and cajoling the transport, the two speeders alternated neck and neck beside each other.

Kajeela was yelling something at the driver. The guy looked at her like she was insane.

[Gheb Cahran]

Simply Unbelievable.

On one side of him was a completely incapable excuse for a thug and on the other - a raving, lunatic Cizerak detective waving a blaster pistol and screaming orders. Gheb was a professional, and this was not really the picture of a job you'd put on your Black Market resume to woo potential clients. He sighed heavily and put his hand to his ear pretending that he couldn't hear her.

Benny was curled up in his seat, Gheb's blaster lying in the floor of the speeder. He was clutching his right shoulder and groaning. It looked like he'd been grazed by one of the detective's shots. Good - one step closer. It was sad to see how pathetic he was. Some people really weren't made for this kind of life.

Biiiiisshhhhhhzzzzzzz

The blaster bolt struck the metal frame between his winshield and the window of his door. Gheb shot a look back to the detective's speeder to see the Cizerack still raving, waving a blaster pistol that had a thin line of smoke snaking from its recently fired barrel.

"That's it," Gheb muttered fingering the handle of his blaster pistol. With a tug of the yoke, his speeder dodged across, slamming into the detectives. The Cizerak jolted, giving Gheb the time to raise his blaster pistol. Time slowed as he looked down the sights, taking aim. The Cizerack looked up as Gheb's barrel was trained right between her eyes. His finger was poised to flex, taking --

KRRRAASSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!

It had taken only 2 seconds for Gheb to aim, which took his eyes from the road. At these speeds, though, 2 seconds was enough time for a sanitation van to make its way lazily in front of the pursuit. Gheb and Benny hit the back of the truck at breakneck speed, the small speeder crumpling as air bags from all directions flew. It was an incredible sound - as loud as a planetary explosion, as white and bright as as supernova.

Gheb blacked out.

Maybe it was seconds, maybe it was minutes, hours, or years, Gheb didn't know. His eyes opened slowly as he groaned. The heat of fire and the thickness of smoke assailed him as he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. He turned to check on Benny, barely able to move.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Twin grey-green eyes blinked at Gheb as he twisted his neck back awkwardly in the direction of Kajeela's voice as it reached him from beside his window.

"Dont botherrr...he'ssss gone"

Cahran realised now that was pretty obvious by the way Benny was slumped in the seat. Funny how you could always tell a guy was dead when he went all ragdoll like that. For her part, Kajeela could smell it in the air, death's own signature scent, she called it.

Behind her Remkah was calling in the accident on his radio - asking for an EMR Unit and pausing to tell the rodian in the sanitation van to "shutup and get the frell back in the vehicle!" He'd deal with that problem in a minute.

Kajeela mentioned to him over her shoulder, "And asssk forrr a coronerrr'sss wagon, Rem."

"And a coroners wagon" he repeated at her prompting, sighing heavily. Poor Benny.

The escape speeder had come to a halt on the overhang of a Merchandising and Promotions office, its rearend crunched against the side wall. Messy. Fortunately it did not end up through the glass and on the receptionists front desk. Unfortunately, it was the middle of the business afternoon and employees and customers alike were spilling out to look at the action. Kajeela noticed this immediately and sought to sidestep this complication as quickly as she could.

She reached in a finger, poking Gheb stiffly in the shoulder "Are you bleedjing? No? then brrrjing yourrr handsss up and hang them out thrrrrough thjisss wjindow to rrressst on the doorrr"

Her demeanor was considerably calmer than it had been during the course of the pursuit, but she fully expected Gheb to comply.

"Come on make jit qujick, and no sssljime-monkejy busjinesss"

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Remkah repeated his order with a gruff bark, "I told you, <B>stay in the van"</b>

The rodian was gesticulating vigorously, his little trumpet-ears seeming to enlarge in agrivation at each passing moment he had to sit still and wait his turn.

Remkah stepped forward on the overhang to stand infront of Gheb's speeder, blaster trained keenly on its occupant, while with the other hand he held palm-up to stem the infringing bystanders.

"Just everyone keep back and give us room to work. Have some respect for the dead"

This last remark caused a ripple of murmurings and muffled "oohs" from the small cluster of onlookers. Death and/or carnage was always a crowd pleaser and a universal craning forward of heads and eyeball stems ensued. Remkah saw Kajeela flick her ears in annoyance. He was supposed to calm the crowd, not incite them to more goulish interest. He spat into the wind. He had to stop doing that.

"Easy, buddy" he instructed as Gheb began to move inside, "One dead guy's enough"

This comment was rewarded with more crowd mutterings and a hard snap of Tarruurri's tail. Dang, did it again.

In the distance, the wailing of the Emergency Medical Response unit announced its soon arrival. Remkah would be glad to get some more hands to help keep back the slowly forward-creeping civilians, and this annoying rodian underfoot. Wait - when did he get there? The rodian had joined the party and was puckering his lips in gruesome appreciation of Benny's remains.

"Lets get the cuffs on him already, Jeels and get this show over"

[Gheb Cahran]

The pain turned out to be worse than he thought. As the detectives pinned him with the barrels of their blasters, Gheb considered ducking to reach his own. He was a good shot. A really good shot, especially at this range. However, given the circumstances and the fact that it heart to breathe, he knew that his mobility and reflexes would be severely impaired. On top of that, he couldn't find either one of his blasters.

The now recently-deceased Benny in the next seat was a bonus, however. That had been the real point of his employment under Clandini. Benny had been a witness - and a rather important one - to a violent murder that had its ties back to Clandini. Gheb didn't know any more details - didn't have to. That wasn't part of his contract. He did know that he was hired to "break out" Benny, which would (in effect) make Clandini look as though he made a concerted effort to protect the thug. Once broken out, Gheb was to eliminate Benny to ensure that he was permanently shut up. This was supposed to look like an accident.

That part of the job was done flawlessly.

"Alright, alright . . . uggghhhhh. . ." Gheb raised his hands to on top of the wheel in an effort to surrender. The groan was because of the pain in his shoulder/chest. He must have jarred something out of whack.

For the first time, he got a good look at the other detective. A man, average build. Gheb wouldn't have a problem physically overpowering him (hopefully) if it came down to it. He would need to build a plan in the next few minutes. For now, he just needed to go along with things. He was going to watch the flow, observe the actions of the two detectives until he could see his chance to move. Eventually, he would need to make it.

Gheb wasn't going to prison.

"Look, I could use a little help here . . . well?" With the pain in his shoulder and the crumpled dash of the speeder making it difficult for him to free his leg, he was going to need some help. Play it cool, Cahran. There'll be a chance. Play it cool.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela was in no mood to be helpful. The perp was clearly in pain, and to her mind, deservedly so. Her proof against Clandini -- if Benny had known anything worth knowing about the mobster died with him, but the breakout was proof enough to her that Benny had known something big. Benny, the proof, her chance of finally nailing that slimebucket Joey-C - all gone with Benny's last breath. The perp deserved his pain alright.

The EMR unit pulled up in a hail of sirens, flashing lights and screeching hydraulics - all very dramatic and the crowd loved it. The coroners van arrived almost the same time and suddenly there were more uniforms and bodies and vehicles clustered on the little outcrop than could be handled. Remkah and Kajeela were forced to take a step back while the EMR's did their duty and cut Gheb out of his speeder.

Tarruurri was agitated - flight was a big risk at this point and Gheb looked like the type that would not go quietly. He'd had the jam to walk right into the precinct in the middle of the day and bust out Benny, she did not doubt the man was capable of turning the situation to his advantage - busted chest or not.

"Wajit!" she pushed forward just as the EMR's got the driver door open. Bustling through, she clamped the cuffs on Gheb's wrists in order to atleast hinder the man in any escape attempts and was hailed with "boos and bwah stinkin' cops" from the onlookers. Why did everyone love the bad boys? Did Gheb just smirk at her?

Forced to step back once more, Kajeela was then informed that the perp would have to be taken to the medical center. Something about blood pressure skyrocketing and possible internal bleeding.

Her ears flattened to her head at the news. "Ij need to questjion hjim" she stated harshly.
"You can question him later, detective. When he's stable."

They moved Gheb onto a hover stretcher and transferred him into the ambulance.

Kajeela clambered up into the unit after him, pausing as she hung off the door to speak to Remkah.

"Meet me at the hospjital, Rem. jI'll stjick wjith mjister jajil-break herrre," she bared her little white teeth at the EMR guys, "..jif no one mjindsss"

No one did, except maybe Gheb, but he didnt count.

Closing the doors and setting off the sirens and flashing lights again, the EMR unit jolted forward and took off into the Imperial City traffic once more.

[Jonas T. Remkah]

A last look at Benny's broken body as it disappeared beneath a sheath and was moved into the coroners wagon and Remkah shook his head slightly, thinking Benny was probably better off now. Which was a sad and depressing thought.

Remkah tried to shake off the loss. What was Benny to him, really? Just another schmoe who got chewed up and spat out by the galaxy, thats all.

Somehow, the thought made him angry.

Getting back into the police speeder, Jonas tried hard not to look in his rearview mirror as he pulled out into traffic, but the dark outline of the coronors wagon was still the last thing he looked at before taking a right down the interchange lane toward the hospital.

[Gheb Cahran]

The straps on the hover stretcher were tight, but the cuffs were tighter. Gheb didn't like this situation - not one bit. But, he didn't have much of a choice. He had to bide his time until the moment was right. Hopefully, it would be sooner than later.

This day just keeps getting better. To his chagrin, the detective was riding in the EMR with him. At this point, maybe it didn't matter. Gheb needed to come up with something fast.

The doors of the EMR shut as Gheb could hear the sound of the repulsorlifts taking off. Soon they would be buzzing towards the Med Bay and Gheb would be brought into one of the many recovery rooms, probably tended to by a medical droid. Then, there would be at least two officers posted - probably as much to protect him as to detain him.

"Detective, we need to remove those cuffs so that we can remove his shirt and check on his ribs." The officer unfastened all of the hoverstretcher straps pinning Cahran to the board. His shoulder hurt, but not that bad. Gheb watched as the detective looked extrodinarily leary of this thought. He noticed that she didn't hand over her keys.

"Detective?" The medical officer spoke gain,this time a bit more commanding. Moving across Gheb and away from the door to outstetch his hand for the keys, the officer finally gave Gheb a chance. He threw a knee into the med officer's abdomen, sending him wrenching. Sitting up - his shoulder screamed at him - he threw a shoulder into the bent-over man, sending him into the detective, the two falling to the floor of the EMR in a heap.

Gheb twisted his body around, so that his feet and head changed places. Kicking his feet hard against the wall of the EMR, he pushed the hover stretcher as hard as he could, tucking his head as he smashed through the doors of the EMR and flew out of the vehicle. He wasn't sure how high up they were, and considering the fact that he was still handcuffed, had no choice for grabbing on.

Both lucky and unlucky for Gheb, the top of the hover stretcher caught a tow hitch on the back of the EMR, and the entire device lurched, dangling from the vehicle. His hands - behind his back - caught the bottom of the stretcher and his legs and body kicked wildy. They were well into one of the flyways, at least 100m above the ground.

Frell.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela thought it was bad enough when the fool attendant came flying at her, flattening her to the floor. But the big oaf was oblivious to the fact that her head was crammed into the corner and as he scambled to regain his feet, kept banging it against an oxygen tank.

..Just got...to...get..a..grip..

She just about had a hold of his collar in order to pull him off when the back doors flew open and the stretcher, a van load of medical paraphenalia, and her captive, all went flying past them in a rush of wind that made the attendant sprawl and scramble once again.

"Ssslow down!" she screamed at the driver. Her words were torn ineffectually, however, from her lips by the swirling wind, but luckily the driver could work out the need to reduce speed all on his own. He even dipped the nose of EMR unit forward slightly as he did so, allowing the pair on the floor to extricate themselves from each other and clamber to get a saftey hold.
Kajeela hooked an arm on a handle and peeked over the edge of the back of the ambulance, her eyes rounding in astonishment at the precariously hanging stretcher and the even more precariously hanging Gheb. "Arrre jyou crrrazjy?" she yelled down at him as he looked back up at her. "He outta be locked up!" shouted the other attendant who had managed to finally lodge himself securely up against the drivers seat and was hanging on tightly. Kajeela gave him a withering look as her hair whipped wildly about her head. No kidding.

"Ssslow thjisss vehjicle down and land jit sssomewherrre now!" she called back to the driver before turning back to the dangling Gheb. Only, he was no longer dangling there. And neither was the stretcher.

Tarruurri leaned out of the vehicle, grabbing hold of one of the swinging doors and pulled it closed with a clang. She then sat back on the floor, leaning against the solidness of the van, her lips compressed tightly together in frustration.

"Betterrr call forrr anotherrr corrronerrrsss wagon too,"she added. "jIt looksss ljike we arrre gojing to need jit"

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Remkah was taking his time to the medical center. Being alone in the speeder didn't happen often and he indulged himself in a cigarette. Tarruurri's sensitive nose would still pick up the stink, of course, once she rejoined him. But he'd worry about that later, the smoke was worth it.

He was cruising out of the left lane, just about to make a right into Mynock Way. He couldn't see the EMR unit, but that was expected. He'd left a few minutes after they had. What wasn't expected was the frelling stretcher that came careening out of the heavens to land on his front end, sending his vehicle into a crazy tailspin. "What the......!"

Jonas fought to level the speeder and avoid the buildings and transports that kept rising up into view and hurtling themselves towards him. Dang, he'd lost his smoke. Nope, there it was, burning a hole into his inner thigh. A few frantic flicks between his legs solved that problem. The billboard to his right was another thing though. Too late, and too slow, Remkah pulled up and accellerated, managing to clip the back of his speeder as he attempted to go over it. He'd wanted to avoid it altogether. But he also wanted a blonde slave girl for his birthday last year. He'd got neither.

Coming finally to a stop in an open aired parkade, Jonas sat for a few moments to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. The speeder was trashed. Guess having a smoke wasn't gonna bother Jeels too much now.

Sitting there slowly de-stressing, Remkah's brow crinkled into a frown. Was a stretcher sticking out of the hood?

Banging the radio with his fist, he cajoled it into working despite the fact steam was hissing out from behind it.

"Kajeela...." he asked tentatively, afraid of the answer, "...Did we loose our perp..again?"

[Gheb Cahran]

Gheb didn't believe in the Force, or the Gods, or anything like that, really. He'd seen too many dark things in his life to be convinved that there was some sort of benevolent power out there with the entire galaxy in its hands. His father had beaten him too many times, he'd seen his sister cry too many times, and he'd killed too many people to think that something was looking out for anyone.

One hundred meters above duraconcrete in a straight freefall will get a prayer outta anyone.

If I get through this, I'll do something good. I really will. I don't know what, but I'll figure it out. He didn't know who the promise was going to, but as the stretcher flipped away from him and he found his body twisting, plummetting into a certainly messy fate, Gheb could only hope. Seconds passed like hours as the whir of lights and glare of metal blurred around him. He wouldn't be suprised if he got hit by a speeder.

SPLASH!

His feet kicked against the heaviness of the water as he heard the sound of muffled screams around him. Against all odds - in an unbelievable stroke of luck - he had landed smack dabble in the middle of a pool on what was probably a party yacht. It was a moderate time of the year for Coruscant, and party yachts were known to cruise the skyways.

Ok. . .ok. . .I owe you.

Gheb surfaced, gasping for breat, a few scantily clad guests taking a dip in the pool that he had just cannonballed into. All of them had incredibly shocked looks on their faces, a twi'leck female screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Excuse me, get out of the way!" Gheb made his way to the steps and climbed out of the pool. His eyes immediately found the captain's cabin. Naturally, the captian emerged from the controls, his eyes wild. Gheb (even with his hands still cuffed behind his back) gave him the dirtiest look he could muster.

"Land this boat, as quickly and quietly as possible, and everyone lives." It was probably the cuffs. It might have been the blood from Gheb's mouth mixed with his dirty clothes. Maybe it was the empty holdsters across his chest. He looked frightening enough that the captain nodded and retreted into the cabin.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Some hours later...


Kajeela sat with her elbows on her desk looking at her monitor, her head hunched forward with hands on either side of her face so that the corners of her mouth were pulled back in an odd feral grin. She was not smiling however. The words in front of her the source of great dismay.

She re-read her report, hitting on the highlights.


*Main suspect in murder investigation escapes custody with aid of unknown individual who initiated an assault on Precinct #27
*Main suspect subsequently killed in process of re-apprehension
*Successful capture of unknown individual
*Subsequent escape of Unknown individual, current whereabouts unknown.
*Squad car ZRJ298 destroyed

Kajeela was definitely not smiling. She tapped the file key in disgust. Not one of her better days.

She filled out a request for another vehicle to be assigned to herself and Jonas, dropped it in the outgoing mail tray, and then clicked off her desktop lamp.

She took up her coat, an old leather 3/4 length and cinched the belt in a half-knot tightly around her waist giving her a tidy little hourglass shape. Closing the door behind her, she choose to take the stairs as she always did, preferring to clamber up and down the three flights rather than take the smelly, confined elevator that most the staff used.

Her mind would usually wind down as she descended the stairs, but not so tonight.

What a mess. What a mess.

She chanted it like a mantra to herself, unhappy and frustrated with the entire chain of events. She mulled over and over - what could she have prevented, how and at what point did she miss the chance to take the initiative from that unknown individual? And just who was that unknown individual anyway?

Stepping out into the street, the night wind blasted her with a fresh cold breath and she hunkered down into her coat. Remkah had left for home sometime before her. He had been checked over thoroughly at the medic center after his collision with the airborne stretcher and found to be sound of body and mind. The last, as everyone knew, was debatable. But atleast he was unharmed. Thank heavens for small mercies.

She walked the three blocks to the shuttle stop and waited the 10 minutes it took for the transport to come by. Who was this unknown individual? Why rescue Benny? The information he must have had in his pointy little head obviously too hot for Joey-C to risk him languishing in police custody.

The shuttle arrived and Kajeela took a window seat, staring out vacantly. It started to rain lightly, small rivlets of water beading and rolling off the windows as the forward motion of the transport pulled them upward.

The search that she had ordered to recover unknown individual's body was still in progress, and had been for hours. It had turned up nothing. She had initiated a canvassing of the area and a police alert ticker on all the local holovid chanels, hoping to find someone who had seen a man free-falling to his death - but so far, no one had. Or was bothered to say so.

What a mess.

In the morning, she would have to answer to the Captain for the day's fiasco. Another unhappy thought. For tonight however, she just needed to get home, get fed and sleep.

The rumbling hum of the shuttle lulled her mind finally and Tarruurri yawned loudly and her tummy grumbled.

It started to rain harder.

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Snoring loudly, Remkah was oblivious to the oncoming rain storm.

About the same time Kajeela was putting the key in the lock to her own apartment across town, Jonas had been sleeping for over an hour. It had been a helluvaday. But unlike his partner, he was not one to dwell on what if's and how comes. Tomorrow would come soon enough with its own problems. And maybe, with dumb luck, some anwers to some of the questions from the day before.

On his bedside table the message light flashed green and emitted a low repeating beep, trying in vain to penetrate the detective's awareness.

[Gheb Cahran]

The coat he'd managed to get from one of the guests did its job. He looked like some pompous traveler, his hands behind his back as he strolled the streets with an open coat. Of course, Gheb wasn't a pompous traveler, and anyone with a second look at him realized that he wasn't a pompous anything. Not right now.

His plain white undershirt was stained with dirt, sweat, and blood, the blue outer shirt torn and hanging open. His hair was matted with the aforementioned, and his dark green trousers had a few suspicious spots on them. He was walking with a slight limp, his shoulder causing him a good deal of pain to move.

He was certain that the pleasure yacht captain had probably issued some sort of report or distress signal. He needed to lay really low for a bit, just to let things calm down. In an alleyway about 10 blocks from his landing, he slumped against a wall, pulling the hood of the coat over his face. As dirty as he was, and in line with about two other bums, Gheb fit right in.

He closed his eyes to rest his mind and his body, and found that sleep was too difficult to fight.

A few hours later. . .

He awoke to the sound of a siren in the distance, as well as to the drips and drops of rain on his forehed. Reaching for his guns - the pain in his shoulder wrenched. His mind came back to him, and as he got his bearings, he realized that he was handcuffed - still. Not only that, but he was now soaking wet. A storm had come and he found himself painfully soaked to the bone. This problem had to be remedied.

Unfortunately, one of his associates - Jarden Kaye - had been arrested recently on narcotics charges. Jarden was an amateur plasma-cutter artist, and those skills would've definitely come in handy right now. Unfortunately, Gheb had to settle for less. It was late, but the convenience store likely had plasma cutters for shipments of freight.

"Hi there," the clerk eyed Gheb suspiciously, probably for a very good reason. "Uh, what exactly can I do for you?" He was chewing something - candy maybe.

"I need to ask a small favor of you." Gheb rolled his shoulders (ouch!) which dropped the coat to the ground. He twisted to show the clerk his predicament. "A thousand credits says that you've got a plasma cutter and a knack for keeping secrets." The clerk eyed the fugitive and then smirked. Running his foot quietly into an alarm, he played along.

"Yeah, yeah, sounds good." He turned, making a move toward the back room. "I'll just need to get those cutters." He disappeared behind the beaded curtain, returning with a heavily modified, sawed-off surrosub assault rifle. "You can just shut-up, turn around, and get on your knees right now, scumbag. The cops are on their way." The clerk smirked again.

Karma, Gheb thought to himself. He only had a few minutes to move. Fortunately, this wasn't the worst situation he'd been in. It was pretty bad, though.

[Jonas T. Remkah]

The heavy banging on his door just would not stop.

Remkah groaned not yet awake, but not now still asleep.

He cracked open one eye to take a bleary look at the digital chrono on his nightstand, 3:10 a.m. His dulled senses recognised in an abstracted sort of way that his message light was flashing.

The banging got louder.

"Uhhhhh"

He extracted one hand from under his pillow sending it on a seek and find mission for his snub-nosed blaster, usually kept on the table beside him. Groping in the darkness, he knocked over a glass of water, its contents drizzling to make a small pool in a dip on the grainey surface. Belatedly, Remkah remembered the gun was in the drawer and he stretched out explorative fingers to latch onto the handle.

The banging continued and he figured whoever was behind the door would not cease until Jonas opened it, or shot the culprit through it. Now that his mind was clearing, he figured the first option was probably the better choice.

Throwing off the covers, the Coruscant city detective plodded across the thin carpet, stubbing his toe on one of his boots left carelessly laying about on the floor and opened up.

Standing in boxershorts, gun in hand, Remkah greeted his visitor with a growl,
"Oh..This better be important"

[Mirko Spendrim]

"It is, it is" Mirko assured as he stepped gingerly inside.

The place was uncharacteristically messy and as Mirko turned to remark on it, he noted Remkah wasn't looking so great either.

"You look awful. Not sleeping? Working too hard aren't you. Good man, good man." He bent and picked up one boot, then its partner as they lay untidily on the floor and put them neatly against the wall out of the way.

"Wanna tell me why you're here in my apartment at three in the morning?" Remkah had yawned the question.

"Oh" Mirko answered as he folded up a shirt he found thrown over the back of a chair, "Im here about that guy who fell outta the sky tonight"

[Jonas T. Remkah]

"Who? Oh, right. Will you stop doing that" he snatched the jeans out of Mirko's hands as he folded them and threw them over the chair where the shirt had been. Then moving over the the kitchen area, he opened the refigerator looking for a beer.

"What'd you hear?"

[Mirko Spendrim]

"Tea is better"

Mirko flicked on the kettle and rustled up two mugs and a couple of teabags from Remkah's cupboards even as the detective still hunched in the fridge door peering into it blankly. He nudged Remkah out of the way in order to forrage out the milkjug. Jonas relinquished his place and sat at the table to wait the tea.

"So, you remember Kimiki Crei, the Albino?" (Remkah nodded that he did) "Well, he used to do business with Sammy Three fingers - big fat cat money launderer out of Nar Shadda who used to move some of Crei's intake though outter rim accounts and bogus buisness ventures."

Mirko moved about the kitchen, searching for the sugar bowl. Remkah pointed to the top righthand cupboard. "Ah, thanks." (sugarbowl located) "Sammy's brother and sometime business partner, Moyle, who, incidentally lives here in town and isn't such a bad guy really, once you get to know him. A good dancer-won some competition last year. Terrible sabaac player though" The kettle boiled and Mirko poured the steaming water into the cups, adding generous amounts of both milk and sugar to each and stirring briskly, clanged the sides with the spoon. "Moyle owns a pleasure barge, one of those newer models with the pool and the jacuzzi - beautiful, quite amazing what they can fit on those cruisers nowadays. So earlier tonight, just as Moyles party was getting into full swing bang! outta the sky drops some rough looking guy in ripped up clothes and his hands cuffed behind his back right into Moyle's party drink"

"What?"

"Yep, just like that. Ploosh! right into the swimming pool. Imagine." Mirko was clearly amazed by it and slurpped his tea through pursed lips. "But he's your guy, right? The guy on the ticker on all the holovids. He's who you cops are looking for, right? I called you to tell you, but didnt answer so I left a message. You really outta check your messages Jonas, it's rude not to reply."

Remkah couldn't believe it. Their perp was still alive?
"You were there, you saw him?"

"Not me" Mirko explained, adding another teaspoon of sugar to his cup "Elijah, who works on the barge, told me. He recognized the guy -says it was Tek Cylan, some creep who did 3 years for armed robbery a few years back. Hows your tea?"

[Gheb Cahran]

"Just cut the frelling cuffs!" In the blink of an eye, the situation had drastically changed. The details were blurry, even to Gheb. Laying on the floor, directly next to the guard, was the sawed-off blaster rifle. The clerk's head was bloodied, his arm contorted painfully and limp at his side. His other hand was now clutching a plasma cutter. Gheb's foot pinned his head to the floor.

"Ok, ok, but please don't kill me - please." He wouldn't quit sobbing. It was pathetic, really. Gheb wanted to kill him, but not today. His rap sheet was considerably large, and he didn't need the price of a mass murderer put on his head. Gheb let the clerk up, who groaned with the pain of his broken arm.

The clerk set to work with the plasma cutters. He was far too scared to try anything now. Soon, the cuffs broke free, and Gheb let out a sigh as his shoulders were loosened. The cuffs were still around his wrist, which he could tolerate. Now, however, his wrists weren't pinned.

"Thanks," he said, turning around. Throwing a hard elbow to the side of the clerk's head dropped him in an unconscious heap. Gheb had to get out of here. He needed to get to his safehouse, and fast. This time, he was in real trouble. He heard sirens - again.

Dangit. I can't get out of here. Grabbing the blaster rifle, he retreated through the back door. The alleyway smelled of sewage and trash - like most around here. He had to think where he was. He was probably about 16 blocks from his nearest safehouse - Ari Nolan's place. It was a small, seedy cantina. Nolan was a rodian known to have some minor hutt ties. He was also known for operating a joint "conducive of criminal activity," the cops always said.

Gheb climbed a wire fence that seperated the alley and an abandonned mill yard. He needed to get to Nolan's place, lay low for a few days, and let this all blow over. Getting there was going to be tight.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Two beefy hands shook the holovid set, while another pair twiddled knobs on it's base and thumped on its top.

"Ehh, reception's crap in this part o' town" announced the owner of the first pair of hands, "I tol' Joey he needs to pony up for a better receiver dish but seein' as he never watches it, he don't see no point."

'Fists' who belonged to the second set of hands, moved to banging the set on the sides, to no visible improvement in the transmission. "Mr. Clandini watches the shock-boxing sometimes...Don' he wanna get a set that works for that?"

"Who knows" shrugged Omossitti, at last desisiting with shaking the set and unhappily plomping his ample girth back into his easychair. He lifted his salami-pickle sandwich and prodded it wholly into his mouth with his thick fingers, making speech a bit difficult, "Awl I knwwow iws....iwts gwivwing me thwe twitcthes trweying tho wath ith"

"Yeah..." commisserated Fists. But it was still nice to look at those girls in the Miss Slavegirl Competition at Hutt Stadium, even if they did keep flickering and rolling up and off the screen in a continual cycle. GNN sure had class programing at this time of night.

The door to the tv room opened and Omossitti and Fists turned at the interuption. It was Scarab, Joey Clandini's second in charge, and so named because he had a beatle-shaped birthmark just beneath his right eye. It was an ugly blemish and Freddie-his real name-was ultra sensitive about it, as many a poor individual was made keenly aware if he or she stared at it for longer than a nanosecond. Which was hard not to do, seeming as it was right there in in front of your face. Most people who knew Scarab never made eye contact for that simple reason. Omossitti and Fists immediately gave him their full attention while looking intently at his thinning hairline.

"Police scanner picked up a report" Scarab announced, "Our guy's been spotted at a mini-mart" Omossitti swallowed what was in his mouth and automatically reached for his coat. "Joey wants you to go pick 'im up"

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Remkah disconnected the commlink connection having given his partner the information Mirko had supplied and reached for his pants. He announced to Mirko, "Kajeela will pick us up in about twenty"

This news brought a handsome smile to Mirko and he straightened his jacket self-consciously. "How is Detective Tarruurri these days? Still, erm, single is she?"

Jonas hopped on one foot while pushing the other into his trousers, "Yep, I think she's been waiting for you to show back up and save her from her lonely existance"

"Really?" Mirko neatened his hair with the palms of his hands.

"No, dont be an idiot, Mirko. Pass me my shirt"



Deflated, Spendrim obediently brought over the shirt he had neatly folded earlier. "She needs someone stable, I know. I'm not the man for her. I have too much baggage."

Remkah took the shirt and donned it, not bothering to comment. Every man had his dreams, he supposed.

"Kajeela said there'd been some report of a handcuffed individual at a convenience store in the Seudo Sector. Probably our guy, Tek." Spendrim handed Jonas his jacket while Jonas continued speaking, "He's probably long gone, but its a trail that we can pick up on. The local boys should be there any time, but our guy is pretty slippery - no tellin' what will go down"

Jonas armed himself, deftly slipping his blasters into their appropriate holsters strapped to his body.

He slapped Mirko on the back, "Lets wait for her on the street to save time"

[Mirko Spendrim]

Speeding to the Seudo Sector in Tarruurri's personal transport..

Mirko leaned forward, elbows hanging over the front seat between Kajeela, who was behind the wheel, and Remkah seated beside her. He was smiling toothily, doing his best to be charming. He adored Kajeela. Those pointy ears and beautiful cat eyes..

"So you say he just, what, flew out of the speeding ambulance still strapped in his stretcher?"

Tarruurri's brow knotted in annoyance, but Mirko missed it.

"That musta been somethin' hey Jonas? Boosh!" he did a skiing gesture with his hand towards the windsheild and Kajeela's brow-knot deepend. Mirko was a bit dense on the understanding of charm. "That woulda been one for the newsreels, I bet. You'd look great on holovid, Detective" he said to Kajeela, "You have a great jawline"

Remkah shaded his eyes with his hands, he couldn't watch.

Kajeela took a hand off the wheel and, placing it over Mirko's face, pushed him backwards with a force that made him sprawl like a curly-topped starfish. "Sssjit back and put on jyourrr ssseatbelt"

"oh yeah, yeah. Sure, detective." He clicked himself in obediently - he loved a forceful female. "Hey..I think..." Mirko pressed his face to the window peeling his eyes from Tarruurri's profile to peer into the street, and the sidewalk in particular. "I, erm, I could be wrong, but aren't those two some of Clandini's boys?"

The reaction was instant and immediate. Tarruurri and Remkah both swivelled their heads in the direction Mirko was looking. Striding away from the same convenience store as they themselves were heading was Omossitti and Fists, well known muscle of Joey-C.

Mirko could see further up the flashing lights of the local police vehicles parked sedately outside the mini-mart, and standing beside them talking with an officer was the store clerk, blood clearly congealed on the side of his face.

"He'sss not herrre" came Tarruurri's assessment, "We'rrre too late"

"Maybe follow those...oh, nevermind"

Kajeela was already turning the speeder around as Mirko made his suggestion, and Remkah was double checking his spare blaster powercells.

Prudently, Spendrim cinched his seatbelt tighter, just in case.

[Gheb Cahran]

The jacket stunk of drink and urine, and it was certainly dirty, but the passed out bum hadn't noticed its absence. It was enough to cover him head to ankle, and the hood would keep his face from being instantly recognizeable in a pickle. It wasn't going to do too much, though.

His pace was brisk, as inconspicuous as possible, and he was slowly whittling down the distance to Nolan's. Crossing beneath a busy skyway, Gheb heard the sound of repulsorlifts. A vehicle was making a landing in front of him. It was a brand new speeder, a mid-size sedan. Slick and black, it was definitely a ritzy model. Fortunately, it wasn't the police. The pilots side window lowered with a *hiss* of air.

"You Cylan, right?" The cockpit was dark inside, and Gheb couldn't locate the origin of the voice.

"What's it to you?" Gheb wasn't in a position to trust anyone, especially someone who was willing to say that name out loud. It meant one of two things: either the guy was stupid, or he was somebody.

"Just get in the car." The words weren't polite, but they weren't threatening. An bare hand in a black jacket extended out of the speeder and hung at the side of the vehicle. On the forefinger was a ring with a bright red sequence of jewels on it.

It was Clandini's symbol.

He didn't really want to get in the speeder. Afterall, if Clandini didn't send made men to pick up just anyone. The real question was, where were they going? To a safe house? To a hideout? Or to the river? Gheb didn't know, and he wasn't particularly excited to find out. He was paid. The job was over. Why'd things have to change now?

The back pilot-side door to the speeder opened. Gheb stepped up into the speeder, nursing the sawed-off blaster rifle tucked against his ribs in his coat.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

"jI knew jit" Kajeela said as they watched Gheb voluntarily get into the Clandini mobs black speeder.

"jI told you Rrrem that murrrderrr had Joey-C'sss fat, grrreasssy fjingerrrsss all overrr jit"

"I never doubted you, Jeels" Remkah assured, not taking his eyes off the vehicle three speeders ahead.

"Me neither, Detective" Spendrim echoed the sentiment, to whom Kajeela threw a scowl to in the rearview mirror as she was reminded of his presence.

"Keep atleast three speeders back, we dont want them to get skittish"

Kajeela was careful to follow Remkah's instruction. They'd been outmaneuvered twice in less than twentyfour hours by this Cylan character. She was not going to let it happen again.

"We'll wajit untjil they ssstop to make ourrr move on them. jI am jin no mood forrr anotherrr hjigh-ssspeed chassse."

Mirko heartily agreed with this idea, though showed rare good sense in keeping this opinion to himself. Speeder chases always ended badly and it was always, always the poor schumk in the back seat that shouldn't have been there in the first place to get frapped.


<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Omossitti was seated in the back and eyeballed Cylan as he slid into the limo beside him.

"Go" he instructed with a tap on the seat to Fists, who was driving.

"You got any hardware on ya?" Reaching forward, he padded Cylan down, feeling the weapon against the mans side, but leaving it in place. "You wont need that" he said settling back against the plush leather seat and tugging on his jacket as if it was getting a bit tight nowadays on him, "You're among friends." The gold-tooth smile was not really very assuring.

"Mr C. wants to thank you in person for a job well done, even if it was a bit flashy..even for his tastes"

Fists had said nothing, only shifting his deadpan gaze now and again to look alternately at Cy and then the trailing traffic in the rear view mirror.

[Gheb Cahran]

Gheb didn't respond. His usually biting sarcasm was stifled by the fact that he was a little intimidated by his surroundings. He was "among friends," sure, and even theives had a code of honor, he knew. It was simply going to take some time to relax.

He let the rifle slowly drop to the floor, the metal no longer irritating his skin. He laid his head back, feeling a bit more comfortable now. He didn't know how long the ride would be, but the posh bantha-hide seat was surely be better than having his head in the gutter or his wrists in cuffs.

"Where we going?" He finally spoke, maybe 5 or 10 minutes down the road.

"One of Mista C.'s clubs. We can't take you anywhere too private, someone mighta seen ya." This one was more personable than the driver, although these men were known for their . . . well, work. Not that Gheb was a saint, but these men probably had at least 100 murders under their belt each. Gheb was a professional, and he operated coldly and rationally. These two did what they did well. . .but the difference was simple: they enjoyed it.

"We're almost there. Leave your piece in the car - one last thing for the bouncer to have to worry about. We need to get you into some clothes, son." He flashed another smile as the speeder began its descent.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Clandini's limo came to a hovering stop outside "Tuxedo Ray's" - a throw-back club to the days where open mobster affiliation was 'in' and flagrant disregard of the law was oiled by payoffs and kickbacks to local officials. These days were officially long gone, of course, with the new order of Imperial crackdown, but Tuxedo Ray's still fostered the facade, bringing an odd comfort through decor and style to the general populace who prefered the devil they knew to the one they had to obey. Tuxedo's was a mobster's club posing as a legit club posing as a mobster's club.

And Mirko loved this club.

"I love this club!" chirping from the back seat. "There's always great bands playing here and its a great place for celeb-spotting. I once saw that fox Miranda Tarkin here drinking with some gorgeous blonde dame - rumored to be a Black Sun affiliate. Atleast, I thought it was Tarkin - Ive never actually met her, and I couldnt get close enough to introduce myself -- security here is pretty good. She is even more compelling in real life than she is on the holovids."

Spendrim stopped here, realising his audience was staring at him oddly.

"What..? It could have been her."

Kajeela parked half a block up and the three of them exited the vehicle to follow after their quarry into the club.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

It was busy in the club, which was no surprise. The planet city was non stop day and night. It only stood to reason the little sub-sectors would only mirror that reality.

Kajeela and Mirko entered together through the front doors, Spendrim paying the cover in splendid gentlemanly fashion and with an idiotic grin of delight on his face. Remkah had gone round back, stationing himself to cover the rear exit.

The press of bodies gave the Cizerack good cover as she and the little information broker maneuvered themselves to one side of the premises to look surrepticiously for Cylan. It would not do if he spotted her. He'd bolt for sure.

Tarruurri expected the Clandini boys would take their man into one of the back rooms where it was more private. This assumption was incorrect however, as she spotted Gheb taking a seat at a booth to the left of the raised dance floor. She shrank behind Mirko and hissed for him to stand still.

"Sssstand ssstjill and dont move" she instructed as she sat down, Mirko providing effective cover while she peered through his elbow. "Act naturrral and trrry not to get thrrrown out"

Gheb was facing her way, the strobing dance light illuminating his face in changing shades of red to blue to gold. He was talking to a man who had his back to Kajeela, and whom she could not identify from this vantage. It was times like this she wished she could read lips.

Tarruurri was torn. She wanted this Cylan fellow. But she wanted Clandini too. Was it possible to get both? Tonight? It was unlikely. She'd have to go for one or the other, most probably. Clandini was certainly the bigger fish. But Cylan was the more personal. She growled ferrally under her breath. She hated such choices. For the time being though, she eyed Cylan through green-grey eyes, her long ears twitching back and forth, she waited for the time to pounce.

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Cylan was seated opposite Scarab, the latter running a long, delicate finger around the rim of his glass. Whatever he was drinking, it was clear as water with the exception of a turquioise bead of something-or-other shimmering in its base like a Geonosian underwater pearl.

"Mr. Clandini extends his gratitude, Mr. Cylan" Scarab pushed a credit chit across the glossy finish of the table toward Gheb, "And would like to know if you have need of anything else as token of his appreciation for ridding the galaxy of riff-raff such as our dear friend Benny"

[Gheb Cahran]

Gheb sat, carefully considering his options. For some, this would be the chance of a lifetime. He considered this an oppurtunity to get his foot "in the door" of Clandini's organization.

Gheb didn't want it.

"No," he said, sliding his hand deftly across the credits and tucking them into his pocket. "All of this is thanks enough." He didn't smile. He didn't say it with enthusiasm or thankfulness. It was matter of fact. His face was stoney gray, his eyes lost in the distance. His body hurt, he was dirty as all get out, and he really wanted a woman. That's what he needed.

"Actually, on second thought, maybe a shower, a hot meal, and a cold drink." Gheb cracked a half-smile this time.

"That's a reasonable request," Scarab returned, a toothy grin of his own. "And easy 'nuff to arrange. Right now, Mr. Clandini is on his way down. He wanted to meet you personally. Consider it an honor. Order yourself somethin' ta drink and relax."