Cup of caf...and make it black (open)

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

The new joint still had a smell of fresh paint to it...which set it apart from the seedy, nefarious smell of sweat, axle grease, and tibanna that seemed to be the Chanel no. 5 of the underbelly of Coruscant. The fact that Zemil Vymes could smell even that was a bit of irony, considering that his presence radiated the smell of cheap cologne and a cheaper cigar, smoked and abused until it was nothing but a smoldering butt, clenched in his teeth like the pin of a concussion grenade. His hairline was receeding and seemed to sporadically regroup on his face as a sandpaper-rough coat of five o'clock shadow, complementing the dark circles under his eyes. Commander Vymes was a man of the city. He didn't have to be cosmopolitan, because he understood the nature of all things cosmopolitan, and their fifteen minute half-life of fame. It wasn't necessary to adapt to the small things. You only had to realize that all men, good, bad, and ugly...were capable of doing stupid things. And given a long enough timeline, everybody was a criminal. It made being a cop rather easy. It wasn't so much that you had to get the precise man who did the deed...just so long as you got somebody, cause Hell knows the names on its RSVP list, and there ain't no end in sight. The easy part was that nine times out of ten, a dog could play the whodunit game. After all, a cop was first and foremost any person with the capacity to smell fear, and the one-track mind to chase whatever ran away. All you had to do was get whatever brain left over from that, and cram it into a list of clues, names, places, and other pieces of a puzzle no sane man would try to assemble. Add bad-tasting coffee for effect, and anybody and anything can be a good cop. Its partly why Vymes never considered himself special. He'd been a cop for 15 years, and that was 14 years past his lease on life. He'd cheated death enough that he'd never play a hand of cards in the Devil's Casino when he finally made it down there. It had its cons, though. He'd had to bury alot of other poor sons of bitches who didn't have such a Faustian sense. In a world where you pay guys low wages to get shot at day after day, and you either slap a mound of dirt on their ass when they screw up, or you slap a ten credit watch on their wrist when they're too old to keep at it, its a damn shame. Sometimes, Vymes had to wonder if he was any worse than the countless glitterstim addicts he'd busted in vice. They were both addicts, except that one could take the moral high ground if he so desired. Both would die poor, and probably before their time.

But it was an addiction. Even obligations can be. If he didn't get a thrill, or a rush from cruising the same streets day after day, there would be nothing for him. Zemil Vymes knew no other way of life, except the life of a cop. For him to make it rich as a day trader would be to pull a fish out of water and get it to sing soprano.

So when Vymes entered the new branch of Master Yoghurts Bar and Grill, recently opened in the Coco District of Coruscant, he did so without much show. From what he'd heard, it was something of a franchise, naturally set up since the Jedi were returning to Coruscant as their base of operations. Vymes had never particuarly liked Jedi...but he never particuarly liked anybody. Which made the Jedi about on terms with all the other scum of the world here. Scum could be shiny, sometimes. Lawyers wore silk business suits and gold watches.

Sliding into a seat, he glanced to a serving droid.

"Got caf here?"

The droid blinked an affirmative. Vymes nodded, rubbing a face of stubble.

"I want it extra black. Boil it down if you have to. And I want two slices of burnt toast, and a pair of runny eggs."

[Kelt Simoson]

'Runny eggs eh?...' Kelt said with a quick smile up to the man named Vymes. Never liked eggs....to bland and taistless....i recommend you try to fried meat here..they do that lovely...or a nice cooked curry with rice...always does the trick. Kelt said with a another warm smile to the man.

Kelt had watched the man come in, and noticed the badge he wore around his neck....suppose it was nice to see a fellowman of the law like Kelt was on his home turf at one point or another.

[Iden Hyde]

Gabriel Hyde was not one to normally spend his time in establishments such as the one he now stepped into. In fact, he'd actively avoided coming to places like this; just the atmosphere degraded upon his senses. It was tremendously lower-class, and just the fact that it was on Coruscant grated at him even more. He hadn't wanted to come to the planet, but he'd been asked to, and there was no way he could refuse the invitation.

Of all the places on this damn city-planet, she chooses to spend her time here. If she's got to hang out at bars, why couldn't she have gone to something more high end... "

But, this was where his partner enjoyed some of her time, and so therefore he would seek her out. Lok s'Ilancy had been hard to get a hold of lately, and he needed her help.



Stepping fully into the bar and grill, he was stopped by a hand on the front of his large overcoat; under which he wore an impeccably clean and pressed business suit.

"Weapons, sir."

Hyde gave the gaurd a stern look before deliberately pushing the man's hand away. "I don't carry... weapons."

With a lingering stare, the doorgaurd nodded slightly, and Hyde strode forward.

The bar and grill, it seemed was busy, and while it had the slight smell of new varnish, it was quickly being taken over by that of dirty, sweaty bodies. Hyde hated it.

He approached the bar, and stopping at the counter; he declined the stool in front of him, placed a well manicured hand on the slick surface of the bar. To his right sat a man who looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, and raising one eyebrow at the man's order of black coffee, let out a silent "hmph".

As the bartender walked up, Hyde nodded in greeting. "Sake; bring me the bottle and two cups, please."

[Clive Jerrard]

(Thank the maker he didn't have to make anymore trips to Arcan IV for a decent drink. Not that Coruscant didn't have it's share of good drinks, but there was something in the atmosphere at Yog's Bar that made the difference. That, and they had the best tasting root stew he'd ever had.)

(Clive walked into the bar, the same rule still applied at leaving any weapons at the door. He obliged, and tossed his side arm into one of the cubby holes. He was to meet Raunkks here today for some dinner, and a potential new buyer for some exotic weapons. So long as they had the cahs, he didn't ask questions.)

(Making his way around the tables, he stopped at the bar, ordering his usual Corellian whiskey. And a bowl of steaming root stew with extra spices.)

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Whatever will choke my arteries, sounds good to me."

Vymes nodded to the order change, and the serving droid skittered away. His eyes returned to the man, who was dressed a few decades out of his time, with flowing hair and a beard. Couldn't say Jedi louder if he used a neon sign.

"Welcome to Coruscant, by the way. Hope you've gotten used to the rush-hour traffic"

The sun was dipping down below the city skyline with clocklike precision. Vymes stretched a bit in his seat, extending a hand to Kelt.

"Commander Vymes. Coruscant Night Watch."

[Raunkks]

(Raunkks lumbered into the bar & grill, newly established on Coruscant. He had no weapons to stash with the others at the door, so the guard let him pass.)

(The large Barabel looked about the place, searching for his partner, but instead his eyes caught sight of something, or rather someone, he was not pleased to see. His reptilian eyes narrowed as he silently made his way to the bar where he slid into a seat beside Clive.)

I do not think we should discuss our business here.

[Kelt Simoson]

Kelt took the hand tightly and shook it with little force. ' Kelt Simoson, althought i dont like to boast my position, i am a Crusader....nice to meet you Commander Vymes' He said with a smilethrough the stuble of his brown beard.

'I bet you get a few bad situations in this city eh?...you seem the sort of man that has passed that with flying colors if i may sayso...' he ment it as a compliment, but it may have come ut wrong.

[Clive Jerrard]

(Clive looked at the black reptile, one eyebrow raised, and spoke around a mouth full of root stew.)

What are you talking about? Never had any problems here before...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il was already there, and she watched with interest as Hyde strode into the new branch of Yog's. She almost laughed out loud at the look of near disgust on his face, and from her spot towards the back of the bar, she sat back, stretching minutely before leaning forward to stand.

Wading through the tables, she neared Hyde; even now he'd neglected to change out of his customary business attire.

I swear the man doesn't stop working.

She'd already gotten in contact with one Clive Jerrard; intent on purchasing the exotic weapons he claimed to be in possession of. She knew Hyde would appreciate the potential oppurtunity.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the one eyed man, and veering off her path, she made for Jerrard.

Stopping at the table, s'Il hooked a booted foot around the leg of a chair, and pulling it out, lowered her small frame into the seat.

"Nice to see you made it."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Well, Coruscant hasn't exploded yet, I guess."

Crusader, eh? Sounded like one of those disjunct, fairly quixotic titles that you'd see in some holomovie. It was that kind of thing that caused Vymes hackles to rise. The Jedi came in, adding a whole new variable to the trainwreck that was Coruscant. Kelt looked like the kind of guy who spent his days chewing tree bark and spitting out loose leaf. It probably worked wherever he came from, which looked like some mythical place where people wrestled sheep or something that people shouldn't spend their time wrestling. On Coruscant, he was a square peg. And Coruscant didn't slow down for comprehension's sake.

A muted conversation had drawn Vymes interest, as he leaned to the side. A one-eyed arms dealer, a metal-eyed smuggler, a thick-skinned sidekick, and a spineless robber-baron. There was more cosmic probability of seeing a Rabbi, Priest, and Minister trading shots of vodka on a sunday morning and pulling for the same smashball team. The skin tightened around Vymes' eyes as he scrutinized.

"...s'cuse me, Kelt...breakfast can wait."

Rising from his seat, he successfully intercepted the inbound serving droid, plucking the bottle of sake and two cups from its tray, and delivering them to Mr. Hyde's table.

"Hi, my name's Zem, I'll be your waiter this evening. May I suggest the blooming onion?"

The dog-leg holster bulged from Vymes' leather jacket. It was the unsaid special of the day.

[Iden Hyde]

Hyde looked at 'Zem', regarding the man with a cold eyed stare, and accepted the bottle and two glass, setting one in front of him and one in front of s'Il.

"Thank you," he spoke curtly, "... but I don't think we'll be ordering anything tonight."

[Kelt Simoson]

' As you wish sir'Kelt gave a salute of sorts and smiled.

The man watched the Commander step away from the table, he knew the man had seen something possibly that could bring the new shining clean bar down ina few short minutes. The man did'nt seem the type of guy that could resist the sound of his gun going of ever so often . Nonetheless Kelt would watch this man closely just incase things got a bit messy.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"How bout the buffet? We're serving trouble, and it feeds four. Sounds like something you're interested in."

Vymes leaned on the table, eye-level with Hyde. He was all smiles, but anyone could read between the lines as he spoke.

"Besides...you couldn't tell me a man like you is here for the food. Men like you abhor greasy spoons like the rest of us."

He rose up, smile widening.

"So...lemme elaborate on the menu."

He paced around, resting a hand on Clive's shoulder.

"Three counts of arms smuggling, five counts of bribery, and one count of racketeering."

Another hand on Raunkss's shoulder

"Another two counts of arms smuggling here."

Vymes walked over to S'Il

"And for desert...fourteen counts of smuggling, two grand theft starship, and one armed robbery...like a cherry on top."

He crossed his arms.

"Nice place. I like it already. Food's like a pile of dren, but hell...people like you and me are here for the atmosphere, right?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il looked up at Vymes as he stood over her, and she leaned back in her chair a little, smirking. "I think you forgot a few other things, Slick," she grinned carelessly.

Whatever Hyde did now was up to him; this was her arena. She'd leave most of the legit business deals up to him unless she had to absloutely be there, but when it came to stuff like this, she was on her own turf.

Unfortunately, it was also Vymes', and it was easy to see he'd done his reading.

"You're makin' me look good here," she quipped, still staring up at him, "I know I'm not that clean."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Its hard to clear all off-system records. I'm sure I'm rounding down."

He turned his attention back to Hyde.

"So...if you're trying to diversify your portfolio...congratulations. But, you're gonna wish I was some scheister day-trader with a chip on my shoulder. The only difference between big boys prison and white collar prison is hot water in the faucet."

With two fingers, Vymes tapped just under his eyes, then pointed his index finger at Hyde, as if to say I am watching you, you low-life piece of dren.

"Think about it. Enjoy your meal. Try the fried meat...hear its the best."

[Iden Hyde]

Hyde controlled himself, though it was a conscious effort and it was easy to see his teeth were grinding in anger. He remained composed, however, and pouring the sake into his and s'Il's glasses, looked up at Vymes with a raised eyebrow and abject disdain in his voice.

"If you're very much through here, I suggest you leave us to our business. Whether or not you think it is illegal means nothing to me. I am conducting a fair business transaction, and as soon as I am through, I would be glad to leave this planet.

"If you are assuming I am a criminal in any way, I should caution you. My friend," Hyde nodded to s'Il, "...may have a record, but I do not. I run a legitimate business, and as such am a legitimate man."

He turned to face Vymes' more fully, and returned the pointed finger with one of his own. "I don't like being blindly accused, and I would ask you not to do it again."

Yag'Dhul never seemed more appealing than now.

[Christian Dekker]

Dekker stepped into the B&G after his commander had gone in to get 2 coffee and some breakfast, knowing Commander Vymes he had stirred some kind of trouble up in there. He walked in and not to his suprise the old coot had some poor guys ass up against the desk in a slanging match of words.....yup...Vymes started it al right. 'Oh god...here we go....'grumbled Dekker putting his hands in his coat pockets. 'Yo sir..you need a hand over there?..' Dekker shouted shrugging somewhat.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"I haven't accused you of anything, except a bad taste in liquor. Fortunately for you, that's just time served. The rest...its just free advice."

Walking away, Vymes let a parting shot loose.

"Good luck with the legitimate business. You've got a good team there."

Now...where was that caf, and heart attack on a bun?

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sergeant Dekker was coming into the diner...likewise getting ready to join the graveyard beat. Like a good cop, he smelled blood in the water on the way in, but Vymes called him off with a shake of his head. What was done, was done. The rest was easy. Taking a seat at his booth, Vymes gestured for him.

"Nothing but a few ruffled feathers. Now to see which way they scatter."

Vymes laughed.

"Any headway on the Zeebo case? I need somebody to get down to the lower levels and prowl for witnesses. All we got for the job is a corpse, who can't tell us much, last I checked."

[Christian Dekker]

Dekker took a seat opposite to that of his friend Vymes, the booth was much the same as the B&G on Yavin. Yeah, he had been there a few times however all the bars these days were just a safe post for rats to snoop and make there crime plans and to sell there dirty hardware. Man but to step into the bar Vymes had his duresdiction over was not a wise idea....hell it was professonal suiside.

"Knob said he was down there, he said he would meet us here when he made his witness checks, cant say i like the way this is going tho' sir, seems as if this plan is bigger than we thought"

Dekker took a glance over to the 4 people Vymes were cussing out and then back to the Commander.

"Whats the deal on those guys?"

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Who knows, for now? Could just be a coincidence, if you believe in them."

Fishing around in his pocket, Vymes retrieved a rather mangled-looking stump of a cigar, pressing it into the corner of his mouth.

"For now...nothing worth shaking a stick at. Couldn't help to keep tabs though."

[Iden Hyde]

Hyde barely hid his disgust at Vymes' last remark as he turned back to those at the table. He knew Lok's less than respectable profession, but he also knew her to be a shrewd and tactful businesswoman when the need arose. It was what made her such a good partner. That and it was mostly her investments that were keeping Terrisz'Voss operating.

"Loklorien," he began, "I trust this won't take any more time than necessary."

[Severen Morkonis]

Bugger...delete please...and not a word Charley :p

[Christian Dekker]

Dekker nodded once towards the 4 over on the other table and then shifted both eyes towards Vymes.

"Looks like somethings going down there Boss" He said, his eyes narrowing at the man talk a few tables across.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"I wouldn't worry too much about it for now. Mr. Hyde would prefer to walk out of this without a scandal all over the press, and the other three are easy enough to follow up on. Just follow the smell."

A slow, sly grin crept up on Vymes' face.

"Unless this is somehow connected to Zeebo's case. It all seems a bit cut and dry for the kind of stuff that you'd see in the vice district."

Pulling a napkin towards him, Vymes scribbled a name.

Loklorien S'Ilancy

"Why don't we work with her a bit, after we've made our rounds. Give her time to cool off."

[Clive Jerrard]

(No sooner had the mettle-eyed woman come to him, and he greeted her, they had another guest. This one definitely unwanted. He remained silent, chewing on a rather stubborn root bewteen his teeth as the man read off a list from memory, fighting the urge to swat the hand that had landed on his shoulder. So that's what Raunkks was talking about.)

(Clive just sat there, looking at the cop, knowing full well the man would have an easier time finding out about his past than his present. He had Raunkks to thank for that, what with his expert slicing.)

(As to all the things he'd just said, they may have been true, but long since in the past. Nothing to sneeze about now.)

(As soon as the cop had left, Clive looked back at s'Ilancy.)

I'm terribly sorry about that. Perhaps our business should be conducted elsewhere. The Bar & Grill isn't what it once used to be.

Raunkks here will give you the time and place where we can discuss those precious items you wanted. And feel free to bring your associate with you.

(He dabbed at his lips with a napkin, finishing his Corellian whiskey, and stood. With a decisively "I'd like to see you try to get something on me" look at Vymes, Clive made for the door and disappeared easily into the Coruscant night crowd.)

[Raunkks]

(Raunkks let out a low rummble that emitted from deep within his throat, stiffening as Vymes hand came down on his boney shoulder. he could have easily ripped the man in two, but having a death warrent on one's head wasn't what he had come to the bar for. Instead, he knitt his boney eyebrows together and stared at the man with obsedian eyes.)

(Once the officer had finished his little harrassment parade, Raunkks turned to Clive to hear what he had to say to their customer. Then, Clive stood and left, leaving Raunkks with s'Ilancy.)

Allow me to esscort you back to your flat, Missss ss'Ilancy.

(His voice, though it carried elongated s's through his reptilian accent, was deep and rish, something one would not expect. He gestured towards the door, keepig one eye on Vymes, indicating his own speeder was outside and ready. he wasn't really going to take her back to his flat, but rather Clive's ship. The safest place to conduct business at this point, and especially with what the woman had asked for, was back on nar Shadda.)

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il looked at the Barabel, not moving from her seat. True, here wasn't the best of places to do any sort of business of the kind that she and Jerrard had in mind, but she didn't feel the need to leave right after Vymes' little speech. It'd just give him more fuel for the suspicion she knew was already running rampant in his brain. Normally, back on Arcan, she would have gone through with her normal transactions in the bar and grill without worry... things seemed to had gotten lax in that respect, but here, in the Coruscant branch, things were apparently a little different.

Instead of standing, she leaned back casually, stratching her legs below the table while lazily plucking her cup from the table.

"Don't worry about it; I can get there on my own... thanks for the offer though."

s'Il smiled, taking a sip of her sake. Her brows rose a little as she gave Hyde a sidelong glance. "Better than the stuff on Arcan... "

[Christian Dekker]

Christian gave a nod to his boss and took a sipof coffee keeping one eye on the two left a few tables over.

[Iden Hyde]

Hyde gave another 'Hmph", sipping at his own drink. "I wouldn't know," he began tersely, "I never visited Arcan."

Running a hand over the front of his overcoat in a semi-vain effort to smooth it and remove any excess spots, he set his cup down. "Loklorien," he leaned in then, and she inclined her head forward as well, "whether or not you have finished your work here doesn't concern me anymore. I don't care how you get your funding to me, just so long as it gets to me. If that means you have to shake some of your clients down, then fine. Do it. Just make sure there are no ends that need to be tied up."

His hand fell softly on the tabletop, and his voice lowered even more. "You did good with the last one, I'll give you that, but watch yourself. I'm not going to bail you out of any more detention blocks, no matter how much of an investment you have in Terrisz'Voss."

Hyde stood, dusting himself off. "You can keep the bottle, I've already paid for it."

With little else to say but an offered nod at the woman still sitting and a parting glare at Vymes, Gabriel Hyde strode out the same way he'd come in; irked to no end at the matter that he'd had to come to a place such as this.

[Raunkks]

(He bowed his head out of respect for the woman.)

Assss you wissh. We sshall ssee you at Mr. Jerrard'ssss private officccce. I need not remind you were it issss.

A good evening to you, gentle-beingssss.

(With that, he went to his speeder to meet his partner and collegue on the ship for the trip to Nar Shadda, where Clive's private store house and ship depot were hidden.)

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

He'd stepped out for a smoke...at least it was the excuse given to Dekker. And truth be told, he had a smoke...pathetic as it was. Stretching in the cold air of early evening, Vymes re-lit his cigar stump, which looked like it had gone through a few sessions already. Acrid smoke wafted up as the end glowed red. It was enough time to see the speeder leave...and to scribble down the plate number. Vymes grinned, cigar clenched in his teeth. After multiple uses, a cigar lost its aromatic charm. In fact, it downright began to stink.

The smell of victory.

"Tag, you scaly sonufabitch." Vymes muttered through the hazy smoke. He extinguished the pitiful remnants against a bootheel as he entered, tossing the Sergeant the piece of folded napkin he carried.

"Get in touch with precinct. Why don't we put a pair of eyes to use."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il rolled her eyes as she watched Vymes come back inside, and draining the last of her sake, picked up the bottle. This place was getting a little too hot, and she needed a breath of fresh air... or as fresh as the air on Coruscant was able to get. But instead of heading for the front of the bar and grill, s'Il made her way further back; through the mass of bodies and thick veil of smoke towards the rear exit.

She had more clients to visit, and sticking around here wasn't a good idea.

A squib ran in front of her, barring her path to the door right behind him and holding up some broken trinket in his scrubby little paws while chittering something about how such a rare find was unheard of these days, and that 100 credits was more than a fair asking price. s'Il narrowed her eyes at him.

"Go away."

The creature chittered angrily at her then, commenting on her rudeness and that she was passing up a one-in-a-million deal with what he was offering.

"I said go away."

The squib gasped, and even gave her a little shove, apparently insulted that she'd turned down his offer.

The push did hardly anything to dislodge her footing or knock her back, but it did make her angry. Angry enough to bring the bottle around, smashing it into the side of the alien's head. Glass shattered, sending a spray of alcohol in all directions, and the Squib's eyes rolled up as he dropped like a rag doll. And yet, the activity in the bar and grill seemed to not stop at all. That was the nice thing about places like this; violence had taken a back seat to drinking and carousing, and that suited most people just fine.

With a snarled "I told you to go away," and a follow up kick, s'Il stepped over the now limp body and flung open the back door with a rough hand, stalking out into the open air of Coruscant.

Diving into the ever present crowds of passerbys, s'Il did her best to disappear within them.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

On a fundamental level, a cop was an institutionalized predator. You traded in your stripes for a badge and maybe flashing lights, claws for a blaster at your side...but all things stripped away, both a tiger and a cop were always looking for the same thing...the perfect time to spring on an ever-wary prey. For a tiger, it might be a deer too preoccupied in grazing to see the tall grass moving with the rush of its body. For a cop...it was a big fish, mucking up in a little crime. The kind of slap on the wrist that would get you a stern warning, if other angelic qualities saved your ass from the frying pan.

Loklorian S'Ilancy was, in the cosmic sense, rolling snake-eyes.

Vymes eyes had already switched from that of a human being to that of the primoridal cop, which saw details in motion, in acts of the moment. Her actions played out like a trail of chum in the water. The gun pulled free from the dog-leg quicker than a claw exposed.

"Coruscant Watch! FREEZE!"

And Vymes was out the door, hurdling over the fallen squib like an afterthought. He was a little fish's folly. The night air burned in his lungs like gasoline as he bore down on S'Il...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was like instinct. Something bred into her genes. Just the word 'freeze' incited the opposite reaction in her muscles, and without so much as a look over her shoulder, s'Il had bolted. She was ready for the chase, ready for the thrill. She loved it. Her boots pounded the pavement as she hastily donned a pair of orange tinted sunglasses, and she slipped through the massive crowds with ease, her small stature once more coming handy.

Vymes wasn't far behind; twenty feet at the most.

s'Il grinned almost evilly. Shame, that was actually good sake...

She flew past a group of snooty looking women standing infront of a window, ogling over who would look good in what, and letting out an inaudible snort, cast her metallic gaze over her shoulder at her pursuer.

Gotta run faster than that, she grinned to herself.

And with a sharp turn she'd veered to the right, crossing over one of the skybridges that dotted the planet's landscape.

[Christian Dekker]

Dekker who had seen his Boss sprint from the B&G bolted up out of his chair only a few quick secondes later knowing this would turn out to be a night of dirt again....atleast the building did not have to be a burning rubble of mess this time. By now Dekker had his blaster pistol out in his hand along side Vymes pointing it at the women and then....she was gone, she bolted into the crowed....who dare defy Vymes?..she did to Dekkers surprise.

'Well there goes my trouble free day....' Christian took off behind Vymes weaving in and out of the crowed that often had to plauge the walkways just as the boys in blue were in hot persuit and in other times when nothing was on the streets were almost clear...rotten luck huh?. Of course the two coppers had enough expeience on there plate to handle this type of run away...she must have run for a reason after all right?

'Hot on your tailBoss....' shouted Dekker darting around some teenagers.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

It vaguely occurred to Vymes that, money permitting, he could be onto something in the terms of extreme sports. You could train a man for years to run a hundred meters, ticked off to the millisecond. You had to be born to chase. The kind of fast-twitch reckless abandon that threw you around an unfamiliar corner that you were already intimate with on a subconcious level. You didn't have to be fast. You don't have to be strong. Vymes was neither, but he was built like a stray dog with that nothing-to-lose look in his eyes that would make him attack a cargo truck. That, and he could practically find his way around the city with his eyes closed. So, as S'Il made her way through a tangled stretch of roadway, pedestrian crossover, and alleyway, Vymes was her shadow, hurdling over toppled trash cans and other city obstacles. In his peripheral sense of hearing, he could hear Dekker's voice, punctuated by the sound of bootheels slapping against pavement.

"Set blaster on stun!" Vymes managed through panting breaths. There were waves of pedestrians between Vymes and S'Il. Nobody wanted blasters going off in this situation. Vymes might be apt to fly off the handle, but he didn't look for trouble in places that he shouldn't. Uncacceptable losses was a concept that Vymes took with stern seriousness.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

When it came to street chases, s'Il loved every minute of them. True, there were some she'd lost, but it was the ones that she'd won that counted. And thankfully the latter was much more frequent than the former. She was used to being hunted; used to constantly having to watch her back. It came with the job, and she wouldn't give it up for anything.

She heard a second voice. Must be his little sidekick...

Her eyes searched out another route; another direction to run. Down.

"Let's see if you like heights," she growled to herself, and pulling a complete 180 degree turn, ran straight back at Vymes. Her boots pounded the ground as she threw herself headlong at him.

"Can you fly... ?" she mouthed before veering sharply to the side, and flinging herself into the air, sailed up and over the gaurdrailing.

Thirty feet down was another crossway, and s'Il landed in a roll. Stumbling to her feet, she looked up momentarily at where she'd jumped from, light glinting off the reflective orange lenses.

[Christian Dekker]

Dekker quickly ran to the gaud railing and leaned over a slight bit to see over, careful not to slide off. His caught the sun reflecting of off her glasses,his lips curled upwards to show a grin, damn he loved when women were a slight more tougher than the hookers they seem to drag in payloads of these days, it was.....different. Come on, theres got to be a quicker and safer way down without landing and breaking his back, Dekker was a quick thinker, you had to be in this city.

He looked around for anything that would get him down there without having to run all the way around to the stairs leading down there, by now he had lost a few moments in thought and then it struck him like a cup of hot coffee in the face. For some reason the sky lanes had become slightly jammed, perhaps stopping to look at the chase who knows? and as the boy wonder he was on the force he took many chances.

' Sir i have an idea, you go around to the stairs leading down and cut her off, ill try and chase her that way try and heard her towards you....' Dekker said lifting one leg over the rail and then the other so he was looking out over the over the other walk way on the lip of the walk he was on, Dekker held his breath and let go of the rail and quicker than he calculated he had landed on the hood of a stationary speeder in the now jammed traffic.

' Hey buddy what the hell you think you doing?...damn cops!'said the driver, Dekker only gave a half embarrassed apologie and looked down to the catwalk the women was on which was not as far down as he thought, again taking a deep breath for some reason, as if calming his nerves he jumped in a crouch position and landed hard falling to his knees and narrowly missing a passer by.

He gave a nod to the women he so nearly hit and looked to see the women they was chasing run of in between the crowds of people, he gave a sharp grin and took chase once more.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

Dekker made a leap of superhuman stupidity, and came out on top. Gritting his teeth and muttering, Vymes calculated his chances on doing the same.

"I'm getting too old for this dren!"

Spotting a cargo hauler a few feet down the overpass, Vymes made his way directly over it, muttered a few curses, and jumped, slamming onto the back of the higher vehicle. As he landed, the hauler came to a stop, causing the off-balance Vymes to tumble down from the top, across the windshield and hood, to the ground.

"Sonufabitch! There'd better be a Ryloth vacation clause in my pension!"

Slowly, he got to his feet, oblivious to the Gran's vocalization's from the hauler. Dekker was already back on pursuit, and Vymes slowly built foot speed once again.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il hadn't had the aide of "speeder hopping", she'd simply thrown herself over the side rail and dropped the thirty feet. It was a stupid thing to do, and she wouldn't be able to pull the same stunt again; the pain shooting through her knee evidence as such. She ignored it though, pounding the pavement to stay ahead of her pursuers.

Turning down a sidestreet she tore down the nearly deserted alley, and with another sharp turn, shouldered her way through a flimsy door, crashing into the battered and almost completely run-down apartment complex.

Sprinting down the deserted hallways, s'Il nearly flung herself down stairwells, going deeper into the depths of Coruscant.

[Christian Dekker]

' She...shes in there officer!'

A homeless man grumbled in his shabby cloths towards Dekker as he half jogged down the alleyway. Christian looked towards where the man was pointing with a boney finger,his finger to a doorway into a grotty apartment block, the door had been kicked in showing she had forced her way into the building.

' Oh well, now we add breaking and entering onto her list of felonies in the city....good going girl...' He mutterd to himself as he passed through the threshold of the building.

In the distance her heavy footsteps could be heard hurter ling herself down the steps of the dirty apartment into the bowels of the city where Dekker hated to go. He started to do the same now, half jumping, half running down the flights of steps leading further down into the cities depths, at one point he called out to her 'You do know that breaking and entering is a class A crime around here right?' He taunted with a grin, at this point she was only a few flights below him.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Save it for her rights, Dekker!"

Night air burned through Vymes' lungs as he raced through the decrepit building...suddenly aware of where he was. Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned to go outside, crossing a congested pedestrian walkway, to a nearby retail store. Inside, there was a turboshaft, which Vymes used to go down six levels, through the city strata. The apartment complex Dekker was chasing the suspect through had only one exit thoroughfare, and it was six levels down. Even with their head start, Vymes had the jump, as the turboshaft got him down with time to spare. Crossing the lower level street, his eyes fixated on an unmoving door, as his blaster raised up in a two-handed grip.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

By the time she almost hit the bottum level, s'Il had lost some of her lead on the one behind her, and she didn't know where Vymes was; not really a good thing. She'd heard his voice, then he disappeared and all that could be heard were hers and Dekker's pounding footsteps down the staircase.

Jumping from the last small flight of stairs, she landed heavily, having to roll as her knee gave out. s'Il clenched her teeth as she stumbled up, casting a look at the door to her freedom. If she could just get out, she'd be able to lose the two men chasing her in the crowds.

With a limping run she headed for the door, and ramming her shoulder into the crashbar, staggered out into the night air...

... and a blaster pointed at her chest.

[Christian Dekker]

Dekker reached the bottom of the apartment block just ehind the woman and sped out into the street only to quickly see Vymes pointing a Blaster at miss s'Ilancy, Dekker did the same and blocked her way from running into the on comming crowed of people so that she could not run without him atleast blocking her path with his body. 'Get on your knees and put your hands on your head NOW!...' He said pointing the blaster only a few inches from the side of her head. ' Do it!'

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il remained motionless, Dekker's blaster inches from her head. Her eyes remained locked with Vymes' as he kept his own weapon trained on her with a whiteknuckled, two-handed grip, and she edged a foot back in an attempt to get better footing. Resisting the urge to pull her own firearm, she kept her fists clenched. Her breathing came in near heaves as she fought to catch her breath, but her eyes remained straight ahead as she and Vymes continued their staring match, Dekker's yelled order going completely unheeded.

Slowly tensing her muscles, s'Il let a lopsided grin creep onto her face, then snapped her head to look at Dekker. Leaning forward, she rested her forehead against the barrel of his blaster, practically daring him to pull his trigger. She knew he wouldn't dare shoot now; even with the blaster set on stun, the fact that there was no range at all would prove fatal.

"Make me."

She knew Dekker wouldn't shoot now; she was more valuable alive than dead. And then she did draw her gun, aiming it straight back at Vymes in order to deterr him from firing. Even with his minimal information on her, she went out on a limb, trusting that he didn't know she never shot cops.

It's just bad for business.

But Vymes didn't know that; or at least she hoped he didn't.

"Make me."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"You pull that trigger, and there will be a double funeral, I promise you that much."

Vymes squared his jaw, making no sudden movements, but not taking his own weapon away from her. In a series of slow steps, he backed away from S'Il. There was deadly earnestness in Vymes words however. Cops were on the most part even handed with most criminals. Cop killers were another story. You never saw the light of day after doing a deed like that. Even if you turned yourself in, you would likely have one of those unfortunate accidents involving slipping on a bar of soap on your 157th story balcony. It was always the same like that.

"Ain't nobody ever made much of a living in the dying business. You put your piece away, and we can get down to brass tacks."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il didn't move, instead keeping her head rammed against the barrel of Dekker's blaster and her own slugthrower pointed at Vymes. She hated standoffs like this; they tested her patience. And yet, she couldn't supress the grin that crossed her features. Vymes had bought it, thinking she would actually shoot him.

She paused then, an odd look coming over her features as Vymes stepped back. It was his footfalls... they were... louder somehow, and she inhaled sharply...

And then the wave of speeder exhaust and the rest of Coruscant's general atmosphere hit her, magnified to an almost intolerable level. She snorted, doing her best to unclog the stench that invaded her senses...

With a heavy breath, she clenched her teeth.

"I have a better idea. How about you two just go away."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"I'd like nothing better. But you're staring assault and battery in the face, along with resisting arrest, and breaking and entering. I'm sure if you scratch our backs though, you could get a similar treatment on the flipside. Could do wonders for what we've got you on. But...you'll have to come with us to sort that out."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I don't deal with cops," she growled inhumanly, letting vicious intent rise in her throat, "... and I don't turn in my underlings."

She turned to look at Vymes then, giving him an odd smile before snapping her teeth at him; teeth that seemed to change, canines seemingly morphing, growing longer into points...

And she growled at him once more, this time a full on animal growl... something not supposed to be heard in a human...

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"What the..."

Vymes muttered, trigger finger resting against the pistol's trigger with pressure directly proportional to his sense of disturbed confusion.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"... something wrong... ?" s'Il asked, her grin showing through the growl, and she backed away then, ever so slowly, her boots scuffed lightly on the surface of the ground.

She kept her gun trained on Vymes, turning it quickly back to Dekker to make sure he didn't move with her, then back to Vymes.

Her stare never waivered from Vymes', and ever so slowly tendrils of tawny yellow began weaving their way into the metallic of her eyes.

But she was getting impatient; her gun snapping from Vymes to Dekker and back again.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

If it was drugs, Vymes could deal with that. An evening or two in the drunk tank wore off all kinds of ails, and in such a way to prevent collateral damage. But he'd never seen anything to do things like this.

In a moment of s'Ilancy's switching trajectories, Vymes fired, sending a coil of blue energy racing outwards.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was quick, but not quick enough.

The stun shot hit her full in the chest, and she gave Vymes a brief, feral stare before sinking to her knees, her slugthrower dropping to the ground.

s'Il fell forward then, as if in slow motion, and hit the ground hard. Unconscious.

[Christian Dekker]

OOC: Thanks for waiting :/

Keeping his gun trained on the womans body Dekker slipped out a pair of hand cuffs and held them outfor Vymes to take hold of and cuff her so he could still keep the stun set gun to her,just in case of any new surprises.