IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

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IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

As the alarm went off at 0630, Jasmine Rhew turned over in bed and kissed her husband awake. He let her, having been awake for several minutes already and remembering it was always good to wake with one of the best moments of the day, remembering the day when the most beautiful and gentle female in the universe had changed his path in life. He’d been pretty much focussed on his career until he’d fallen into her life as a result of half a ships passage dropping on him and being trapped in a refreshment zone where they’d chatted, laughed and fallen in love with each other. The grassland Lappinean, with her shining grey fur and bright eyes against his snow white Celican fur and dull orange eyes as he kissed her back, running his tongue around her sharp incisors to meet hers as it avoided his pointed canines before the inevitable happened and the door opened to allow in a toddling crossbreed who ran towards the bed and jumped in a way that conveyed both her heritages as the little, White furred Lappinean grinned, showing off her canine teeth and Lappinean incisors as Mikkel held the other best girl in his life. “That jump’s really improving, Snowy,” he told their daughter before pulling her into a kiss and letting her mother do the same before the pyjama clad junior warrior lay between them on the bed, destroying any chance of added passion with her presence. “You’ll be landing on prey sooner than we can tell,” he continued, before arcing an arm over to tickle her chest mercilessly.

“Mainly vegetables,” Jasmine commented, happily listening to the delighted squeals from the middle of the bed as Snowdrops short tail whapped her leg. “I have to get up,” she said sadly, shifting the bedcovers so they half covered the others and shifted her lithe body onto her feet.

“Mummy,” Snowdrop asked, pushing at Mikkel’s hand to indicate he should stop tickling.. “why don’t you wear clothes in bed? Daddy doesn’t ‘cause he gets too warm an’ you say I have to but why don’t you?”

“Your daddy keeps me warm,” she told her daughter, who seemed to have much the same issues with warmth and cold as her father. She’d like to get back in with them but, although Mikkel had a late start today, the subdirector of the Pandera City botanical gardens had to be in for an early meeting. She kissed her daughter as she scurried under the covers to hug her dad.


Patcha Karl jumped the low fence effortlessly as she ran through the morning wind, feeling it ruffle her face as she landed and decided not to break stride as she ran towards the exit gate of the breakwater and the guard opened it. She nodded to him as she passed by, recalling the first few encounters with the over officious type until he’d realised it was far better to be on her good side than have her holding a grudge. She’d proven that the time he’d been missing and she found him being assaulted in the car park by a group of ruffian type locals who’d felt distinctly rougher by the time the Wolven agent had finished with them. He never knew when she was going to turn up as she had several routes that she often mixed and matched to make sure people couldn’t lay ambushes for her along the way into work. So there were times he wasn’t on duty which is why he’d arranged for all the others to open it up for her so she didn’t have to climb over and get annoyed with them. A couple of kids she knew by sight cheered her on as she passed by and she gave them a shallow wave as her speed picked up crossing the road via the zebra crossing which she preferred to call a crosswalk as she wanted to hunt a Zebra at some point. The Wolf on the Rodomont said they tasted like Chicken. She respected the former enemy but wanted to know if he was telling truth or just fooling her. She swept left across the park, chasing down a non sentient Vakerria and letting it go after she caught it so it could breed and sustain the species. They were good runners. They got her blood up before she got to work, which now lay just over the road. She slowed herself for the security cameras so she didn’t run across the road and get ticketed for Jaywalking. She only did that every now and again to show it up for the stupid law it was. She was a grown Wolf! SHE had responsibility for crossing safely! No running out in front of cars or lorries. She wasn’t stupid! Plus she kinda liked the guy that brought the tickets. And she was well aware of the fact he didn’t have to. And she was well aware of the days he was on too.


Today wasn’t one of those days so she sauntered across the crossing and entered the IOC compound at 0700. To her annoyance, Corp Davidstow’s vehicle was already there. She put a hand on the bonnet. Warm. Not here long, then? She shifted into the reception area, waved to the receptionist and headed to the break room to take a bottle of water that she downed in about ten seconds flat and she walked into the main room, where other teams and techs were just beginning to buzz about or just about to buzzer off and she moved to her teams area, where the older Mican was at work on his computer, the jacket containing his knife rig hung up on the coat stand behind him. “You’re in early,” she stated coldly.

“Had things to finish up from yesterday,” he replied. “The reports on that shoplifting incident at the barracks for one.”

“Idiot contractor,” she spat. “Running straight into a door like that.”

Corp had to agree. If the person had just walked out after paying for the things, they’d not have needed to get involved. They’d never have needed to run the images through the databases and found he was wanted for several robberies in Salway City and Panteknika and even a case on Vallonia II. He was looking at five years inside here and another eight months there and he’d only been stealing about thirty credits worth. But the law was the law and he was an enforcer so they needed to have everything ready for the judge. “Adriette’s back today,” he told Patcha, referring to their work partner, who’d been off for a fortnight, recovering from a gassing and a sonic assault a fortnight back. She’d been on enforced leave after that and Patcha had nearly been reprimanded for being REALLY intimidating on the U.S.C. Officer who’d been paid enough to gas one of her best friends and another of her best friends. If he hadn’t confessed within five seconds of her going in there she would have been charged. As it was, Feldar Jones, the Feline/Human crossbreed who acted as their senior officer had commended her on the fastest confession in IOC history. They were going to get her a certificate. She was looking forward to hanging it on her wall.


“Corp,” Feldar said, making the Mican soldier look up at the orange furred, human, face. “Wanna take Patcha out to a bank robbery?”

“At seven am,” Corp asked in surprise.

“Mobile branch,” Feldar explained. “It had just left the head office and was taking digital wages to the Council bases. Yeah,” he added, “they’ve grabbed our budget.”
Last edited by Welsh Halfwit on Wed Nov 29, 2023 4:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This is a very great start to this story! Can't wait to see where this goes!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

The road from the city centre out to U.S.C. Pankhak, the main U.S.C. Finance sector for the colony and, indeed, the sector, was closed, the local Police having secured the scene against interlopers and commuters contaminating the crime scene as the van lay on its side, a gentle wisp of steam sliding up into the atmosphere from the shattered underside, where the device had lifted it over onto its side with explosive force. It had crashed down against the woodland trimmings that only grew from this point on in the journey. The back door was broken open and the interior security was also broken, both the guards and the driver shot several times. Corp examined the wounds carefully as Karl looked around They weren’t that far from homes and businesses here and the topography intrigued her. She stalked carefully towards the treeline, away from the landing location of the truck. She gestured and a trooper with a camera joined her.

“What are you looking for,” the trooper asked carefully, knowing the reputation of the Wolven Agent.

“I’m not looking for anything,” Karl replied tightly, her head sweeping so as to take in all the information her senses could. The wind was low right now, just drifting slightly. She walked into the treeline, indicating the trooper should stay back as she stepped a few trees in and
scowled. “Here,” she stated. “Four scents. Five person team.”

The trooper thought about querying but worked it out before venturing an opinion. “Someone had to bring the car,” he said, earning an appreciative nod from Karl.

“At least one might be female from the scents. Or they’re masking their scents. She sniffed again and led the trooper to a spot of blood and threads on a thorn “Picture it,” she ordered, “then get your forensics bods up here to see if there’s enough to tell us things.”

“Of course, Agent Karl.”

“Patcha,” she corrected before giving the Canine a wolfish grin. “Unless you want to annoy me?”

“P...Patcha,” the trooper replied. He had to take the photo twice. His hand was shaking too much the first time.


She joined Corp back at the scene, where he was examining the shattered head of a feline guard. “Why didn’t people around hear anything,” she asked.

“Note all the damage to the underside of the vehicle and the lack of damage to the road,” he said, without looking at her.

She did as asked and rolled her eyes. “Directional concussive weapon.”

“Mmm,” Corp agreed. “Small scale boom as it directs a massive blast of air up under the van. A precision weapon. And I can tell you why no shots were heard too.” He stood up and away from the corpse. “Take a look.”

She crouched and looked at the dead face, its eyes twisted up as though they were looking at the hole between them. She peered. It didn’t look like the wound left by an energy weapon of handgun. She almost reached out and touched it but restrained herself, knowing the Medical Examiner wasn’t there yet and she hated anyone touching the dead before her. There was something shiny with blood at the end of the hole, possibly inside the door the figure was ‘sat’ against. She sniffed. A tang of oxidised metal. “What is that,” she said, having a feeling it was rhetorical. She was pretty sure she knew.

“I think it’s a rivet,” Corp stated as the local M.E’s wagon pulled up, let through by the police. “Step back, Patcha, here comes Ollahar.”

“Touch nothing,” the Pember Corgan declared imperiously, gesturing at Karl with his medical box. The Corgan looked tired. Corp couldn’t blame him. He’d heard he’d been working pretty much 26 hours a day with Yalstrom Pharmaceuticals, helping in the construction of a vaccine for a contagion affecting Cana right now. Yalstrom, using the slightly looser biocheical rules in the patch, had managed to steal a march on their bigger competitors back home, it seemed.

“You all right, Doc,” he asked.

“The hard work’s done, thank you Corp,” he replied, knowing Corp knew. “Now, let’s deal with this.


Feldar sat across the desk from Adriette and pushed a glass of water across to her. “Welcome back,” he said generously. “Gassed and on the periphery of a sonic attack,” he told her. “And don’t tell me you weren’t. I KNOW some of the people in the control booths for the various news still have tinnitus. So, are you still getting it?” Being equipped with Human ears, the cross was less liable to sonic assaults than the rest of them but he still recalled the inner ear damage of explosions and how it had affected him less than everyone else, including Adriette.

“It wasn’t as bad as that time with the bomb,” she remarked, “and I’ve not had an attack in three days. I need to get back to work, Feldar,” she continued, “Anything to survive Sarah’s ministrations!”

Now Feldar chuckled. The young entrepreneur had taken quite a shine to the agent since they’d met in a supermarket shoplifting incident and the team had managed to get her back her family’s coffee company and the girl was over with her guardian virtually every day. “Her family makes decent coffee…” Feldar started.

“...but she doesn’t make a decent nurse,” Adriette finished.

“Well,” Feldar told her, “we’ll need to get the forms filled in and wait for Mikkel to get in after dropping Snowdrop off at her aunts place. He’s quite happy about that, by the way, getting to spend a bit more time with her.” following two weeks with Agent Pattersby.”

“I heard he didn’t like her,” Adriette replied. “Our guest from Darridia IV.” The agent had been called in to conform with the two agent together protocol that had been brought in a year or so back. Adriette sagged Sometimes replacements didn’t work out. “Thank the stars Jasmine’s mother agreed to relocate out here.”

“Offer a Lappinean a grandchild to look after and they’ll move mountains,” Mikkel said from the doorway. “Good to have you back Adriette.”

“Nice to be back. Where’s Corp and Patcha?”


Corp stepped up to the local boss of the transit and security company, a Mican he knew was called Alnwick, and did his best to look upset at the scene as the owner talked to the senior Police Officer. He waited his turn and introduced himself with the requisite apologies that he kind of meant. The boss accepted them. “The first thing I need to ask,” Corp said, “is I take it the funds have been locked out?”

“What,” Alnwick said absently, before shaking his head clear. “Yes, yes,” he said. “First thing. It’s what’s surprising about this. It’s so easy for us to scramble the codes and make it all worthless. So why..?” He fell silent, indicating the fallen figures before him.

Corp had been wondering that himself. He could only think of one thing and he didn’t like it.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Looks like we are setting up to get a really interesting mystery! I will look forward to the next installment!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Adriette was quiet as Mikkel drove away from the suburbs towards the city, where they were going to check in with the central bank. It was something Adriette thought the new boy would have been able to do over the galnet but the kid wasn’t security vetted right now and, considering his background, wasn’t going to be for quite some time. So it had been up to them to ask the questions of the drivers’ mate after the local Police had handled the real moments of darkness. The Family Liaison Officer had sat in on the interview, holding the female’s hand as they sat in her living room and destroyed her life with questions about who she considered enemies and if Frankus had had any arguments with anyone recently or if he’d had any concerns about anyone at work and Mikkel had recorded the entire thing whilst staying quiet and making drinks for the group until the FLO had indicated it was enough for now and, after a cursory look around when given permission, they’d exited the property. They gave their thanks and their sorrow for the loss before getting back in and driving away.

“It’s getting to the point,” Adriette said unhappily, “that saying “I’m sorry for your loss” is getting meaningless.”

“It’s always been meaningless,” Rhew replied, “We only say it to show that we empathise with them so that they can open up to us.” He turned left onto the local highway. “We’d be better off saying ‘we’ll catch the scum that have done this and try to put them six feet under if we can’t make them face a judge’ but that’s not empathic enough apparently. And offends pacifists.”

“Wouldn’t want to offend them,” Adriette replied, her tone absent of humour. “They’d have to walk away angrily. How is it I got to ask all the questions back there?”

“You do that better than we do,” Mikkel told her, moving out into the centre lane to overtake before pulling back in to the first lane. “Can you imagine Patcha trying?”

“I can imagine the legal problems,” Adriette mused as the pair drew into the office of the Bank of Pandera, passing the building site around the building next door.


The situation inside was eerie, low level chatter and the sounds of people crying. Mikkel knew they were coming to terms with the shock of violent crime that had affected people they knew slightly. Or, perhaps, they’d known them better than that? “We’re all, uh, appalled by what’s happened,” Mr Durham, senior associate Manager, said as he allowed the two into his office. “We can’t quite, uh, believe it. Do you have any leads yet,” he asked.

“It’s too early to say anything,” Mikkel said, more confident about taking a lead role here. “Tell us about your security here.” He looked the Mican straight in the eye. “I mean, they knew the route you’d take today. Who’d know that?”

“Very few,” the S.A.M. said quietly. “We change the route each time. The only thing each delivery date has in common is where it starts and where it visits.”

“Hmm,” Adriette mused, “and here you have the police next door and there you have armed troops around.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then it’s likely they breached security somehow.” She looked up. “I need to see if it can be done.”


One floor down in IOC Pandera’s main office sat some specialised departments, including the computing section and the main bank of local computers that the technicians and programmers had ultimate control over. The rooms they worked in weren’t dark but were shaded enough to help the focus of people who dealt with computer screens near enough non stop. There were four on Djaka’s team, including the Chipmunk himself but Reyna the Celican and Rokarra the Erminean were out today, which just left the speedy rodent with the new kid. The one that had just been approved due to Agent Beran’s recommendation that he be allowed to study for a career here. As Djaka had told Senior Agent Jones he’d needed another operative for two or three months but none were being made available, Jones had solved two problems with the proviso that the Mican only work on what Djaka assigned and his external messages went through a scouring filter to make sure he wasn’t telling people he shouldn’t about things he shouldn’t. Djaka didn’t mind. Although he wasn’t too fond of the name the boy wanted to be called. “Ah,” he told himself as a message flashed up on the inside of the virtual gear he was using to digitally test the physical security of the IOC building itself. He unhooked the machine and blinked himself back to reality as his nose twitched at the lack of weight across his muzzle top. He read the readout as ‘Bluejay’ got him a cup of decaf coffee and put it down beside him. “Decaff,” Djaka asked cautiously.

“I can learn, boss,” the young Mican with the shock of blue headfur replied, remembering the mistake on the second day.

“Youcan’tlearn nottocall me’boss’,” the Chipmunk countered.

Bluejay worked it out in his head before replying that he would get used to it. He read what was being asked over his superiors shoulder, figuring that, if Djaka didn’t want him to know, he’d tell him off. “Are we allowed to do stuff like that,” he asked.

“Only withanE-warrant orwith permission.” He opened up the attached file from The Senior Associate Manager and a company lawyer. “And that’spermission. Knowanyonewho’s hacked thembefore,” he asked.

“It’s possible. I…” He fumed slightly. “Most of them are people working against the government that Uncle… Wilt… wanted ins with. They’re not going to trust me now I AM the government!”

“You’re onprobation,” Djaka pointed out. “They don’tknow you’re here. Andyoucan spinit. Mostwillhate thekillings andthink the governmentwasin charge.” He looked up. “Won’t they?” A grin. “Spin it to them.”

Bluejay clapped his hands and got to work. He was OK with the IOC knowing most of these paranoid peoples details anyhow. As his Uncle had told him, it’s best if the law knows where to find paranoid people who know how to steal secrets anyhow.


“So,” Karl asked as Corp drove towards the USC base to check on things there., “what are we heading this way for?”

“Military protocol,” Corp told her. “The routes get switched and changed regularly, right?”

Karl nodded. She only said ‘right’ when she realised Corp hadn’t seen the head movement.

“So all the delivery times change constantly. Works well for security but the finance officer for each base needs to know roughly when the money’s to arrive. For secure transit through the base for one thing. They could have found out that way. Find the rough time the van arrives at each base to identify the route. It’s one thing that I hope I’m right about in this.”

Karl looked at the older officer curiously. “What do you hope you’re wrong about?”

“The robbery is worthless,” Corp reminded her. “The stuff’s been scrambled. These robbers are smart enough to know that.” He let out a breath. “I’m hoping this isn’t a test run.”
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Like the way this chapter has come out! I really love how talented you are!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

4

Corp looked at the nameplate as he waited for the sentry to admit them to the barracks and found himself reminiscing a little. He’d never been stationed at the Hardcastle barracks but he knew the Mican they were named after. He’d been with him in the 3rd light armour during the war of ten years past. He’d known him about as well as any lance corporal could know a Major. He’d been killed in the last major engagement of the war, when he’d apparently lured part of the attacking force into a shopping centre and brought it down on them with himself inside. Corp wasn’t sure he bought it. It wasn’t that Hardcastle wasn’t one who could have done it but, from what little he knew, the Major wouldn’t have started out with the intent to sacrifice himself. Still, the world needed its heroes so who was he to deny them? He adjusted his eyeline down as the sentry buzzed them in and the gate lifted.


The paymasters office was across the parade ground and Corp made his way around the edges of the buildings as Karl glowered at him. “You don’t drive across someone else’s parade ground,” Corp advised her. “It’s not done. Unless you want to risk insulting them.”

“Adds to the fuel bill,” she replied as she watched a group of troopers begin to assemble around a flag in the far corner. “What are they doing?”

“Standing around a flag,” Corp advised. “Possibly waiting for an NonComm to tell them what to do.”

“Wanna go chat with ‘em?”

“No. I’m retired from the Army. And they probably don’t know anything I’d find amusing. Besides, we’re here on business.” Still, he looked over at the now multicultural troops a touch wistfully before heading into the paymasters office, where a Mican of lithe stature and Grey fur took them into an office and sat behind his desk. He’d already stated how everyone was shocked and appalled at the tragedy and loss of life. “The payments have already been scrambled,” Corp advised. “New payments will be issued shortly. The U.S.C. Cirroc will handle the teleports this time. They’re not always available,” he added quickly, knowing at least one of the other two were probably thinking it, “and it’s cheaper to send it by road. Apparently.”

“It’s more to do with showing the locals we’re involving them in everything,” the Paymaster corrected. “Why have you come to me,” he asked, steeping his fingers.

“Simple,” Corp replied. “You were the first stop and whoever attacked knew that.”

The genial look on the Officer’s face faded. “And you think someone leaked the information from here? You really think..?” He peered at Corp intently. “Lance Corporal Davidstow. Of course. I knew I knew you. 3rd Light, weren’t you?”

“Yes, Captain Kendal, I was. So I know how some don’t totally appreciate their wage in the Military. I’m not blaming you. It’s just how things are. The biggest threat to any secure system is the biological compound – as in us – so that’s where we look first. Who on your staff knew?”

“Other than myself, of course,” Kendal admitted rhetorically, “my deputy, Lieutenant Ballater, would know. The same for Ensigns Provan and Uraik.”

“The guard Commander,” Patcha asked, making Kendal jump as he’d almost forgotten she was there, close by the window, casting one eye out at the troops doing Physical Activities on the parade ground.

“She’d only need to know they were coming but not the exact time. Provan and Uraik only need to know as a redundancy. Ballater and myself can, sometimes, be needed elsewhere on a moment’s notice.”

“Are they all in today,” Corp asked. Kendal looked absent for a moment, then nodded himself back into action and started looking at the records for his subordinates. Ballater’s logged in from her office,” he stated and Karl, taking the hint that no-one had dropped, swished away to check on the Female Officer. “Provan’s…” He nodded to the parade ground. “Out there.” He stood and joined Corp at the window where they could see a group being put through their paces by a noncom officer. “He’s good at admin,” Kendal advised, “but he’s lousy at being a soldier so his continued service is conditional on his doing PT. Third in, second row.”

“The slightly out of condition one,” Corp stated.

“You said it. Why did you quit the Army, Corporal?”

“Because I wasn’t going to get ABOVE Corporal, sir,” he explained. “Not with my name. Not with my Family. Four generations in the Armed forces, sir. Not a one ever got higher than Corporal.”

“Lieutenant Golspie always thought you would.”

“She was a good judge of character.”

“Hah. She was indeed.” Kendal moved back to the computer and looked up Uraik. “Uraik has sent in a medical request,” he stated. “Woke up with heavy flu.”

“Where’s Uraik live?”

“He’s…” Kendal was a little embarrassed by the fact he actually had to check on the computer to confirm. “Just off base.” He provided the address as Corp asked for the gate records too. Ins and outs for this morning. See if they could firmly rule Provan out.

“Because you can’t rule Ballater out,” Karl said, appearing at the door. “She’s logged into her computer, sure, but she’s not been in the office for hours.”

Kendal frowned. “Are you sure about that? You tried the correct office?”

Karl almost growled. “You mean did I try the office with her name on the door? As I say, her computer’s on. It’s running a virus scan to stay active.”

Corp looked to the Officer. “What time did you get into the Office, sir?”

Kendal looked flustered. “Ab...about an hour ago,” he stammered, coming to grips with the fact that he’d not seen his sub officer or, indeed, anyone since… “But… but I live on base. I was in the refectory at oh seven hundred hours for breakfast. Then I had a morning meeting over the net from my quarters. But that doesn’t prove anything, is it? I could have set up a forwarding signal.”

“Nevertheless, sir,” send us the details?”


“You kept calling him ‘sir’ back there,” Karl grumped as they drew up to an off barracks row of houses. Cheap. Affordable, two bedroom places. Karl put her hand on the bonnet of the car. “Cold,” she told her senior.

“Old habits die hard,” Corp stated, refusing to be drawn further. He pushed the door. It opened. He drew his weapon.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Don't tick off Karl by asking if she went to the correct office to look for somebody. That is a surefire way to get her to snap at you quickly. Fantastic chapter!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

5

Corp pushed the door open gently and kept his eyes wide as he entered carefully, swinging his gun around with controlled precision to map out lounge, kitchen, stairs in order. He sniffed and turned the tiny camera on his lapel on. Cold and the tinge of blood in the air but there were many reasons for that, down to fresh burgers from a nearby butcher or a murdered inhabitant. He shifted into the living room as Karl came in behind him, keeping her eyes tight, sweeping her invisible laser beams over the chintz sofa and coffee table. She made an opinion. “Tasteless,” she stated simply.

“Army,” Corp replied, moving over to check the vid access panel. He tapped the button with a pointer to avoid putting prints on it and put in his IOC access code to uncover the metadata. “Last accessed last night,” he told Patcha, who had little time for technological work if someone else could do it for her. “You check the kitchen,” he told her, indicating she should turn her camera on. She always forgot.


She had done this time too and activated it before putting on thin forensic gloves and shifting into the room of the house most associated with slaughter. The knife on the chopping board was tinted with pinkish blood and she checked the disintegration system to see that, yup, the system had recorded a disintegration of Karvalax bones and meat last night. “Slob,” she said, giving her opinion on the fact the knife was just lying there, uncleared. Then again, she supposed, whatever had happened here might well have happened here then. The room was, otherwise, sparse and empty. She opened the small fridge people liked to have for fresh when they didn’t want to use the replication system. There was pretty much nothing in it save a small pat of butter that smelled of salted. She opened the oven and smelled. Yeah, there was the aftermath of baking in here. Some sort of pastry. The Canine might well have been making Kastera pie. It was quick and so simple that even she could make it on occasion. The occupant’s scent was all over the place, of course. It was hard to make out any other. The hunter returned to the lounge as Corp investigated the small dining room for anything that might tell where the occupant was. “Going up to the bedrooms,” she said simply, keeping her voice down as Corp accessed the front door cameras to see when they’d last been used, prior to the agents arrival.


The stair creaked under her weight but it didn’t surprise her. There was always a stair that creaked halfway up. It put her on guard, though, as it was the simplest warning device for any defender, telling them exactly where the intruder was without having to look. The tang of something cold and watery made her check the bathroom first. It was standard white with a shower set against the wall and a toilet facing it with a sink built in to the cistern. One bottle of XL shower gel rested in a caddy attached to the main pole of the shower. The toilet paper was nearly out and there was no sign of a replacement roll. Not the main bathroom then. She looked in on the first bedroom she came to. A box room come study. She could see the access point for a personal computing device for the house. There was a variety of scents in this room, obfuscating any tell-tale trails so she moved onto the second room. This had been in use as a bedroom, the bed spoke to that. It hadn’t been used last night but there were signs of use prior to that. The door to the Ensuite was open. She padded across to look in. “Corp,” she called, using volume of voice instead of the comm, “found him.”


She stepped into a wet room that was quite soaked with water everywhere, especially in the tub where Uraik lay in the bath, his feet hanging dry out of the one end and his head under the taps at the other end. Lifeless eyes stared at her from the Canine’s skull and she wondered about the strength of whoever had held him under the surface. His mouth was open and the smell of blood was stronger here. Uraik might have been surprised but he’d gotten in some shots it seemed. The one hand hung outside the bath and Patcha could see the strands of Raitchian fur attached to the claws. Corp arrived in the room as she leaned in to sniff at the fragments of flesh. “Got a scent,” she told him.

He stood aside. “Go.” She flew from the room, vaulted down the stairs, seeing the droplets of dried blood that had previously melded into the carpet and swung into the kitchen. They’d gone out this way and Corp hadn’t seen mentioned seeing them on recordings around the front so she went to the back of the garden and through the gate into the lane there. She looked left and right, down the tight alleyway. There was no room for a vehicle here but there was at either end of the walk. It was a cool morning, with little wind. She sniffed again, hunting ,without moving, for her target. A trace hit her and she followed it down to the end of a cul-de-sac and she groused that there was no trace from here. She looked around.


A moment later, she stood at a door, waiting for it to open. Open it did, to reveal a Mican youth looking at her in surprise and fear. She was used to this. She just had to…

“You’re Patcha Karl,” the Male enthused loudly. “From the IOC!” He was practically dancing on the spot. “Do… Do you need help?”

“Er, um… yeah,” Karl told her fan. “Something bad happened in one of the houses in that lane,” she said, pointing a somewhat confused finger over her shoulder. “We think they got into a vehicle right on the end of the road…”

“Ooh,” the youth hopped, clapping his hands together. “You want to see if dad’s security cameras picked up anything! Come on in!” He ran back to the main room, leaving the door open so Patcha could follow him and she did, into a comfortable room with a large vidscreen on the one wall. “Do you know what time it was?”

“After ten last night,” she stated and he commenced the playback from there at double speed. “Good system you have, kid,” she told him as the nightvision system showed things clear and coloured. She watched a steel blue vehicle trip the sensor on, despite it never having gone past the other way and asked the kid if she could copy the feed. He anxiously nodded yes and she plugged in her micro recording device for several seconds before taking it back out again.

“Can I get a signature,” the youth asked, clearly having had to summon the courage.

“Not done, kid,” she replied. “People use it to fake identities.” She looked at his crestfallen face. “But selfie pictures are permitted,” she said, unsure if it was a fib or not. She put a hand on the boys shoulder and scowled for the camera before advising him not to put it up on social media for a while. It could alert the bad guys.

He agreed reluctantly and, after she’d left, took the camera up to his little IOC shrine and put it amongst the pictures and press cuttings.


Patcha returned to the house to tell Corp what she’d found and he congratulated her on her findings. “They took his computer,” Corp told her. “Probably how they found out the route.”

“Don’t they usually require biometrics.”

Corp nodded. “Hence the blood in the water. They also took an index finger.”
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Glad to see that Patcha is getting her due and being recognized! After everything she has done she deserves more people showing their gratitude to her!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

6

Adriette Beran finished up the questioning of the bank staff and rejoined Mikkel as he finished with his interviews, letting the transport manager go on his way back to his office and she asked him if any were sending up red flags for investigation. Mikkel grunted and advised that the Submanager was having an affair with his secretary and Adriette admitted they were both fairly handsome guys and asked if that was true or was Mikkel just watching soap operas again? Mikkel adjusted his padd and told her they’d denied it by had each others scents over them. “You get anything,” he asked.

“Cyber’s still trying to crack it,” she replied. “There’s possibly some low level stuff. A few are acting more Squirrelly than the Jondahl but I can’t see the leak coming from any of these guys.” She let out a breath. “We’ll have to try the dispatch people and drivers next.”

“Great. Truckers.” Mikkel levered himself off the wall he’d been leaning against and headed down to the loading bay.


“Any replyfromyour friends,” Djaka asked as he tried a sneak attack on the lighting system at the bank to see if he could worm into the mainframe that way.

“None as of yet,” Bluejay replied, tapping away at his own console as he tried to attack their water system. They were attacking two sections to thin out their defences and ‘Jay noticed a couple of other attackers were joining in the assault on the infrastructure from outside. He grinned slightly as he figured he still had friends in the community and told Djaka about it.

“Themorethe merrier andwe lockthemout as soonas weget in.” Djaka did hope they’d beat the others in though.


“So you’re telling me Daventry - that’s the driver - Daventry had debts,” Adriette asked. A rather plump Mican in a baseball cap and reflective jacket scritched his on shoulder and agreed.

“Yeah. He was making out he’s fine but I could see the signs. Drinking a bit more – but never enough to be over the limit. Increasing gambling on the net. It was getting to the stage I was going to need to have a word with management but, y’know…” he picked his teeth with a claw. “I’d talked with him and I figured to give him some time to sort it out. Maybe if’n I hadn’t…”

“Yeah. We’ll not know. But you’ll remember it. You have any idea how much in the hole he was?”

“He never told me but… New kitten. His wife’s on maternity. Eldest Kit was headed for College…”

“And he was gambling,” Adriette grumbled. “Delving deeper into the hole in the hope there’s a ladder down there.”

“That’s the way of it,” the manager stated sadly. “And I should have acted to help, even if it cost him his job.” He shook his head. “Better than his life. And Pentonville. And Tranch…” He walked off in a daze and Adriette watched him shuffle towards one of the senior managers before she added an e-warrant request for the accounts of Daventry and his surviving family to the list of applications and mails she’d sent. Most of them had been to report her concerns about fraudulent activities to the local financial investigation body but this would go directly to a waiting federal judge and be digitally signed within five minutes. It was a system set up by that Fennekin agent, Sana. It had been taken up as a very good idea. She’d need to go to payroll shortly. She needed his bank details.


She checked with Mikkel as to what he had discovered and Mikkel told that one of the guards had recently been complaining about the monotony of her job. He kept his eyes low and tone down as he spoke. But, he added, what one had mentioned about the building site next door had piqued his interest.


“I’min,” Djaka told Bluejay as he began leaving a trail behind him and started closing electronic doors to keep the others out. Bluejay sent a message thanking his hacktivist friends for their assistance but they needed to close down now as he suspected federals were on the hunt. He smirked as the digital attacks largely ceased. They’d find out one day… “OK,” Djaka said, “lookingtosee ifthere’s anyotherholes…”

“Going to use the VR set,” Bluejay asked.

“Not fastenough for me,” Djaka replied, keeping his eye on the screen and licking his lips as Bluejay moved in to support. “Youcan, though.”

Bluejay didn’t need telling twice and he found himself as a small knight in armour with a shining sword on the battlements of a castle the type of which he’d never seen before. There was a ladder propped against the wall so he figured he’d just come up that way and here came the castle defenders as the Rogue behind him started running for the door in the distance. He figured out the incoming were the automated defence systems so he drew his sword, tried to remember the fighting skills he’d learned in several games, and engaged the defences with a yell that startled Djaka so much that even his avatar jumped before he kept running and tried to force the lock.


Adriette and Mikkel made their way into the building site next to the bank and headed in through the plastic wrapping to see if they could find anyone to talk to. There seemed to be a few around and one noticed them and invited them to ‘get lost’, enquired what the heck they thought they were doing and didn’t they know it was a hard hat area? Acknowledging they were, in fact, correct, they stepped back outside and showed their idents to the site Foremican as he came out to remonstrate with them. “You’re correct, of course, “Mikkel said, “and we apologise.”

“Accepted,” the Forman replied grudgingly. He gestured for another to grab the requisite headgear for each species. “What’s this about?”

“You heard about the attack on the bank security van this morning,” Adriette asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Shocking. But I don’t see what it’s got to do with us. It’s not like we monitor who goes in or out.

“It’s just something we’re looking into is all,” Mikkel said. “When we were asking the staff in the bank, the fact the Police were here a week or so ago came up,” he mentioned.

A nod. “One of our builders had his tools stolen. Police investigated but nothing turned up.” He paused for a moment in recollection. “Set us back, it did. Needed to get him a replacement for his rivet gun.”
Last edited by Welsh Halfwit on Wed Dec 06, 2023 4:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Maybe next time go and get hard hats before you come into a construction zone. I imagine a few of the workers there thought that they were totally insane for going in with their heads exposed. Impeccable chapter!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Boss in a debrief. Never goes well...

7

The team reassembled at base to update the others on the activities of the morning. Corp and Patcha went first, detailing the events that had led them to a dead Army clerk and the images from the closed circuit camera. Corp went on to explain how the roadside cameras, utilizing the fact that it was late at night and there were few of these vehicles in the area, directed them towards an area called ‘Calderbrook’, about an hour north. Corp explained how he’d reached out to the locals to see if they could locate that vehicle and had directed Roadcam ltd to scour footage closest to the van attack for five hours before and up to an hour after to see if they could find the car. He didn’t hold out much hope as they had no licence details.

“It was probably stolen anyhow,” Adriette opined.

“Whichmight beahelp,” Djaka put in as Karl glowered at him for sitting on her desk. He swallowed and did his best to slow himself down. “Theyprobably cloned the carkey,” he continued, “their device, whichcan be as small as a chitcard, sendout scans for keys andclone their signal. But, if Uraik’s signalbox is working, it’ll haverecorded a new attempttojoin. Might evenhave recordedvideo. Mightbe goodto check?”

“As none of us know how to do that,” Adriette decided, we’ll need to send someone with you…” She mused. It would mean someone being stuck here on calls. Who..?

“I’ll go,” a voice said from Feldar’s office. Indeed it was Feldar’s voice and he joined it in the room, getting his jacket on as he walked in. “What? I’m still, officially, active Adriette. Plus, if I’m here, I get nothing but budget communications from the sub offices. Been dealing with them all morning, I’m NOT doing it all afternoon.” The Feline/Human hybrid took up the groups guest seat and waited. The group stared at him. He raised a hand, palm up. “You were having a debrief?”

“Uh, right,” Adriette said, suddenly just a little less certain of herself.


She began by discussing the situation at the bank and suspicions of fraud and the fact that she’d gotten cyber to investigate if anyone had broken in digitally and Djaka jumped after a few seconds as he realised they were talking to him. “Oh,” he said, having made Karl grab him to stop him falling off the desk, “they’repretty tight. Lookslike someonegot throughand leftthemselves a backdoor but I slammedthat shut onthem. I don’tthink it had been used. Thank you,” he added to Karl.

“Which brings us to the worksite,” Mikkel contributed as Djaka got off the desk. “Definitely sketchy things going on in the background there. “Disagreements between workers, people laid off, the theft of workers tools, including pneumatic powered rivet guns…” He grinned as Corp looked up. “Figured that’d get your attention, Corp. No sign of any blast weapons but I wouldn’t be surprised if a quarry hasn’t had a theft. I have a request out to the local ones to check their stocks.”

Adriette took over now, clicking her clicker so the rooms main screen showed the picture of a Sable coloured Mican. “This is Charlan Keswick. 34 year old Hopan type. Builders mate. Or he WAS until last week. He’d been on the job for about a month but kept getting dinged by his line manager for continually being distracted. According to Miss Pillow – no kidding, that’s really her name – he was often more interested in what was going on next door than concentrating on his own work. They laid him off after a near accident caused by his negligence.”

“The raider’s scope,” Corp guessed.

“Possibly. His address is a derelict building. We’ll check it anyway but the drone gets sent in first.”

“Sounds a plan,” Feldar interjected. “What do you want Corp and Patcha to do,” he asked Adriette after remembering he didn’t lead the team and the correct protocol was for him to shut his trap.

“Well,” Adriette continued, clearly unamused, “Corp and Patcha should continue to chase up the Uraik lead. See if he’s been dealing with anyone over the last few weeks. See if his computer can be tracked…”

“BestIdothat,” Djaka interjected, making Adriette grumble under her breath.

“Fine. And if he’s met with anyone who’s connected to chummy there.” She nodded to the picture. “Djaka,” she added, making his head turn towards her in a movement so fast she figured would have snapped a bone if she’d done it. “Can I chat with you,” she asked, indicating the break room. Djaka nodded. “I’ll be back in ten,” she told Mikkel, before looking at the departing Chipmunk, who had already made it to the break room. “Five,” she corrected, before following him.

“Right,” Feldar told the silent zone, “it seems the meeting’s adjourned!” He clapped his hands as Patcha and Corp got back to work. “I’ll just… wait here for Djaka,” he concluded lamely.

“Welcome to my world, sir,” Mikkel commented.


“I wanted to know…” Adriette stopped as she walked into the almost clean smelling room and found the Cyber agent crouched on the table. “Why are you on the table?”

Djaka showed a glint in his eye. “Youwanted toknowwhyI’m onatable,” he asked playfully. “It’s easierto talkto people near eye level.”

Adriette calmed slightly. “What’s not what I meant and you know it. “How’s Sheffield getting on?”

“Who?” Djaka frowned. “Oh,Bluejay!” The Chipmunk mused. “He’s good. Notgreat but he’sgood. Makesmyjob a bit easier. WhenI’m notneedingto check he’s notsending out informationtowho knows who.”

Adrietts shrugged. “Condition of his employment, I’m afraid. Reckon he’s got a future?”

“Eitherwithus or in the slammer,” Djaka remarked simply A half grin at her shocked face. “He’ll calmdown. Coulddo withyou comingdown later?”

“I’ll do that,” she allowed before heading back out to get Mikkel.


Djaka had overtaken her before her third step.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Things definitely seem to be getting more lively here as we continue on with the story! I can't wait to see what Djaka will do with Adriette now that physical force was used by overtaking Adriette!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Nah, Djaka's going with Feldar.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Oh I see what I did there. Its overtaken as in rushes away faster, not physically attacking somebody. That was my mistake. I got the meaning of the word wrong and used the other one instead of the one you were implying.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

8

“Dead,” Captain Kendal said, half turning from the window as Corp sat and Patcha stood loose in his office. The greyfur turned fully from the scenes he was watching and crossed back to his desk, the surprise still showing in his hazel eyes. “I...I… How,” he added, slightly exasperated. “WHEN?”

“Last night,” Karl declared simply. “And he was murdered.”

Now the shock turned to despair and horror as the Paymaster worked the keys. “But… he sent in a mail this morning, saying he was going sick…”

“Not a vid,” Corp asked.

“Not always needed,” the Paymaster conceded. “but we do ask more searching questions and they have to be cleared by the medico. Do you have any idea who did this?”

Corp shuffled forwards in his seat. “We have thoughts. We’ll need the metadata from that mail. We believe it was sent from his office computer, which we didn’t find. The data might help us track them.”

Patcha grumbled. She knew that last explanation was directed at her, even though he’d not turned. “We also need to see Uraik’s office.”

“Of… of course. Lieutenant Ballater will show you.” He called his underling in and directed her to assist the agents. Corp had the feeling the meeting was over so stood, after emphasising the fact he was retired by sitting before permitted in the first place. “Shouldn’t you be doing it,” Patcha asked.

“The art of command lies in delegation, agent,” Kendal replied testily, tail whipping.


“What was that about,” Corp asked after Ballater went to look for the digikey to access Uraik’s office.

“Kendal’s hiding something,” she grunted tightly. “I know my scents and what he was putting out back there? That was fear, not shock.”

Corp thought that he knew Karl too well to question her olfactory capabilities but fear and shock had confused the most sensitive noses in the past and, anyway, it was hard to rely on the findings in court. He examined the door. It was a simple push door with hinges and a complex electronic lock. “So, any thoughts of what the Good Captain might be hiding?”

“You don’t like him,”

“He was in the Paymaster’s office when I was here,” Corp explained, “no-one likes the paymasters.”

“Oh, I hope we get on better with the rank and file than that,” Ballater cheeked as she returned. “I can’t seem to find the key,” she said apologetically. “Someone must have taken it out of office. They’re not supposed to do that…”

“Karl,” Corp mentioned., before pulling Ballater out of the way as the Wolven agent tensed, then shoulder charged the door open. The crash had several office workers and a couple of noncoms running up and Ballater calmed the scene down as one of the noncoms blinked at Corp. There was something familiar about…

“Are you Corp Davidstow,” the youth asked as Corp noted the single stripe on his arm.

“I am, Lance,” he replied. There really was something familiar… He noted the surname. “Tomatin?” Am I that old, he asked himself. “Not Kelly Tomatin’s son?”

“Yeah.” He waited whilst Corp fought to bring the name to mind.

“Greccan.”

The youth broke out in a grin. “Mum talks about you most days.”

“I met you once,” he ventured before Karl coughed. “But I’m here on business. Catch up later?”

He nodded and shook hands before leaving.

“You’re getting old,” Karl told him.


The local Police, anxious to prove their worth had provided the forensic investigators for the off base home of Ensign Uraik and Feldar had to show his identity card to the anxious officer standing guard on the door. It slightly amused Feldar as, with his distinctly human shaped face under the orange fur, he figured himself the most distinctive face on the planet. He ducked under the tape across the open door as Djaka just wandered under. “Mustbeannoying, having to duck,” the diminutive techie mentioned, leading the way into the living room, where Corp had said the modem lurked. “Ah, thereitis,” he said, reaching up to plug his device into the vid. He checked back over the last day, his fingers going almost blurr fast over the keys as he operated, going through the security and into the workings. “Defaultpassword,” he muttered. “Whattimewas the attack?”

Feldar told him from where he was lying down on his back, shining a light under the sideboard and Djaka entered the parameter before asking what the agent was up to. “Just double checking nothing’s rolled under here. You can never tell with cases like this.”

“Oh. Ok. There’s a new signal detected just five momentsbeforethat time… and wehavevideo!”

Feldar sat up on the floor as Djaka played back the feed from the camera in the hallway. Four figures entered, mostly a blurr of white in the low quality feed, but they could make out that one of them was definitely a Hopan Mican. Another looked Canine or, possibly, Wolven and… someone tripped over the mat and put their hand out to stop themselves from hitting the floor, grabbing the wall halfway up. Feldar called for the forensic operative who was finishing up the work upstairs and got him to scan for prints “How does Charlan know these people,” Feldar mused.


“Well this doesn’t look at all like a trap,” Mikkel said, talking of the derelict building to their left as they looked on it, a relic of the patchwar that hadn’t been cleared away in the years since. A rotting wound that lacked most of its roof.

Adriette looked back at him as she launched the microdrone towards the target. “You couldn’t even fool Snowdrop with a line like that.”

Mikkel looked affronted. “She believes me about the Sanctamas Elf and the tooth fairy. You know how much I have to pay for chipped teeth due to her Lappinean side?”

“I’m sure you manage,” she replied before the drone went into the building. The screen showed the gutted interior until a bright light overwhelmed the sensors and the link dropped a second before the drone.


Then someone shot at the car.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Hope that the shot in the car didn't end up hitting anybody critically because that would cause things to become worse in this situation. Looking forward to finding out who shot into it and why!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

9

Mikkel backed the vehicle away before its energy dispersal capabilities were overwhelmed and Adriette called in for support, not to Corp and Feldar but to the local dispatch. “This is Agent Beran of the IOC calling in a code ninety-nine Delta. We are under fire at 57 Caydon Street and require back up immediately. My logged ident code is 101-976-467-Ulanda. Over.”

After a few seconds, the voice came back through the monitor. <“Understood, Agent. Back up inbound in five. Stay safe.”>

Mikkel grumbled as he opened the car dorr and stepped out. “When have we ever taken that advice,” he asked, heading to the rear of the vehicle, where he pulled out a thickset jacket and started pulling it on and zipping it up. The latest release from Raicarra Defence technology as the mother company tried to rebuild their image, the jacket shared the capabilities of the car in dissipating the energy of an incoming shot. Nine times out of ten. The Polar Celican hated it for the heat but enjoyed it for the life saving. He put on the requisite helmet and pulled the assault rifle from its’ spot, covering Adriette whilst she did the same. “We need to keep them pinned in place,” he continued.

“Bit difficult while there are only two of us,” Adriette advised as Mikkel moved forward and started the vehicle, pushing it forward, into the firing line towards the target building as they kept to the far side, crouched down for protection. No energy fire was forthcoming yet. Mikkel wondered if the enemy had snuck out the other side until three shots rang out from two windows in the complex, striking the vehicle hood and glistening across the surface. Mikkel knew it couldn’t take it for long, the energy charging up until the storage box was overloaded, but it would do for now. It would warn them before it carried out a discharge. He fired two bolts back towards one of the windows and wished he was flying a Starlancer right now. “Let’s head for the door.”

“Better idea,” Adriette replied, setting the weapon to the third setting and using the launcher under the barrel to fire a gelatinous substance onto the door. It stuck fast to the material as Mikkel took aim and fired a charge into the material. The surface blasted clear with more power than could have been supplied by the charge gel. The dust fell from the windowsill and they heard a pair of cries “You think we disarmed the boobytrap,” Adriette asked.

“I think we need to hope there weren’t any hostages in there,” Mikkel replied drily, knowing the scanner was showing only two life signs in the building. He started running for the shattered door as Adriette convinced the occupants to keep their heads down and the first Police vehicles showed up for support.


Mikkel ducked through the doorway and the dust as the faint flames licked the frame around him. He ran his weapon around the perimeter of what he could see. Girders, debris, signs of neglect. A few scattered signs of occupation and stairs. He headed towards them as the police called out for the occupants surrender. He caught flashes of someone moving around the back but considered it would be the Police and their perimeter. Adriette joined him, before reminding him that the rules meant no agent went alone. He cursed silently and led the way up, his firearm scanning for energy beams as he went. The Police outside fired a flash grenade into the upper floor as they moved up and the pair turned away as the flash threatened to blind anyone up there. Fire spat their way, going wild due to the disorientation effect and Mikkel stepped up, firing on stun.


His shots hit a pillar rather than flesh and blood but it had the required secondary effect of making the Mican dive for cover. And crash into wooden crates that made him cry out. Mikkel and Adriette watched helplessly as the figure flew backwards a dozen feet with a ‘crump’ of sound that had Adriette screwing her face up and holding her ears as Mikkel winced. A sonic detonator cap had gone off under the Mican, leaving a concave shape in his torso that clearly denoted death more than the red that was beginning to leak from every available exit point. Later, Mikkel decided. Where was the other?


There wasn’t another and Mikkel rolled his eyes as he discovered the door that led into the next unit and he called for the Police to secure the road at the end of the complex. They got there in time to note a blue Secla estate moving out at speed.


“We’re headed back to base,” Feldar told Adriette over the comm. “We’re about five minutes from you,” he added and Djaka rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming next. He even mimed it, moving his head from left to right and back again. “We’ll be on the lookout for it.” He closed the link after Adriette confirmed the ident for the car.

“I’mnot a fieldagent,” Djaka protested. “Norareyou,” he added shrilly, working it through in his head.

“So neither of us are covered by field agent regulations,” Feldar reminded him. “You up to date on your firearms training?”

“I’mtrainedon firing,notbeing toenail clippers!” The little computer agent almost started as Feldar reached into the glove compartment and handed him a stun blaster he kept in there for emergencies. He made sure his own firearm was ready for use before closing up the compartment, loading the cars’ ident into the dashboard computer and moving out of the lay by onto the main road towards Adriette and Mikkel. The road they were travelling on was a dual carriageway with crash barriers between the two sides. Every hundred or so yards the barriers were replaced with a short section of automatic bollards and Feldar sent out the recognition codes to one of these sections when the computer registered the target vehicle going past in the opposite direction. The bollards a hundred yards ahead lowered into the ground and Feldar turned 180 degrees into the opposite lane, lighting his official lights as another car snuck through behind him rather than go the half a mile to the next turn off. Another patrol car was joining them and Feldar let the pursuit trained officer – well, he was driving a pursuit car so Feldar assumed he was pursuit trained – take the lead. “Code 16 beta,” Feldar told his comm, linking in to the nearest Police frequency. “IOC Agent Feldar Jones to Road Patrol 185,” he said, reading the code from the bumper, “the investigation is ours but you have the lead on the pursuit and stoppage. Over.”

<“Understood, IOC, Appreciated. More units are inbound. Can you assist with a box?”>

“Of course 185. At your command.”

The three vehicles moved through the moderate afternoon traffic towards the city and started on the flyover. <“We start it now,”> 185 said after the other two Police joined them.

“Understood, 185.” Feldar looked up to make sure of things. They were to be the back of the box, closing in after the other cars had moved in to the front and sides of the target to trap it. “I wonder what their exit strategy might be,” he mused.

A sonic explosion underneath the vehicle dented the road surface and lifted the vehicle off its wheels, flipping it forward so it landed, top down, on the barrier over the drop to the road below. It teetered and the metal cried out before it broke, dropping the car onto the road below, where it crashed onto vehicles.

“I’mbettingthatwasn’tit,” Djaka gabbled, clearly shocked.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I guess that answers what the exit strategy would be. Or at the very least what it would end involve if there is more to it. :D
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

10


Feldar crouched in the middle of chaos. Crashed cars encircled the senior agent as smoke and steam rose towards the shattered railing of the road above. The falling car had fallen directly onto a car below and half a dozen crashes had occurred around it as people screamed their brakes and twissted the wheels to get out of the way. If he wasn’t currently applying pressure on Raitchian female’s upper chest to keep her blood in whilst a paramedic worked to seal the wound, Feldar would have counted the number. It looked like about thirteen vehicles had come to the end of their lives. And so, Feldar knew, had many of the occupants. Djaka, doing his best, was inside one of the vehicles, doing his best to keep a trapped youngster calm as firefighters did their best to remove the roof of the vehicle safely to get him out to join his mother, who was being treated by paramedics to the side of the road. There was no helping the father.


Other than the work to make sure nothing exploded, nothing had happened to the car that had caused all of this and it was that that Patcha approached first, checking to see if anything had survived the pancaking and the hose down. The underside of the vehicle was even more damaged by the blast than the van had been this morning and there was pretty much nothing left for the back seat, with the engine thrust up into it’s place. The driver, a Feline female, had been killed from the shrapnel throwing itself through the seat if Patcha was any judge. The wounds in the front of the head pointed to that, as did the fact her face wasn’t in any sort of panicked look as it would, presumably, have been if she’d seen the drop she was in for. The comm had been damaged by shrapnel that had cut through her hand but, but, now that her camera had captured it in situ, Patcha put her gloves on and reclaimed the device for IT to look at when they got a chance. Djaka wasn’t, she thought, going to be in much of a state to do it. She sniffed but, with all the assailing scents of blood, fire and fragrances, she wasn’t able to get anything useful as she glanced behind to see where Corp was and saw him being harangued by the Feline Police Chief.


Chief Vasta had days when she regretted applying for this job four years back. She’d considered it a good, senior role that would help her towards her retirement roles when she wasn’t going to get any chance of a similar role on Felas or Martakia without a mass plague wiping out two fifths of the senior ranks. So she’d come out here. Where crime was less. Most days she simply had to delegate and organise. There was little that required her direct intervention. She could work towards the retirement house in Edalimi, the village just to the west of here. But then there were days like today and she had a feeling IOC was at the bottom of all of this. More than a feeling, in fact. Which was why she’d corralled Corp Davidstow for an explanation. Plus she preferred talking to him rather than to Jones. The crossbreed intrigued her but she wasn’t interested in being intrigued right now. “Davidstow,” she commanded, “is this to do with what happened this morning?”

Corp couldn’t deny that it was although he wasn’t going to say so in public, where news cameras were hovering around. He nodded to the Police control truck and Vasta assented, leading him out of the early evening cold as paramedics called it on a teenaged Raitchian.

“Out,” Vasta ordered the officer inside who wasn’t working on the radiocomm. He scrambled back out to help. Corp told the chief of the investigations they’d carried out today. “It looks like they have a stock of sonic mines,” he told her.

“There’s a damaged bridge out there that attests to that,” she replied. “Five dead down here so far and two of the main throughfares out of commission. The entire city’s at gridlock.”

“And will be for quite some time,” Corp admitted. “I’m feeling this is merely a precursor, though. Can you find out if anything serious is being moved in the next few days?”

“Should be easy enough,” she replied, hostility spitting from her tongue as she considered what she planned to do with these people when they caught them.

“Include all those things we’re ‘not supposed to know about’ if you can,” Corp advised, implying that every informant needed to be involved and pressed for information. It was going to be something large scale and possibly illegal. She nodded.

“I’ll set the sky spies to watching for anything moving in interesting ways…” She paused for a moment. “Think I’ll have them start now.” She moved the comm operator off his station and made the orders as the officer looked at Corp in confusion.

“She’s taking the responsibility for the decision,” Corp told him. “She doesn’t want it coming down on you if she’s wrong.”

“Right you are, Corp,” the Officer said with a grin that had Davidstow wondering if they’d met before. He shrugged. It didn’t matter. He headed back outside.


Adriette and Mikkel had turned up and were doing their best to assist with the rescuing as the top was lifted from the car the child was trapped in and a nedic came in to check on the child. Corp heard the medic say the child was trapped but seemed unhurt. That, Corp thought sourly, was going to come later. Sirens were still sounding around the room and drones were still buzzing in the sky. For a moment, Corp thought about drawing his pistol and shooting those vultures out of the air but some of them were probably aiding the police, not the newshawks. He crossed back over to Karl, who was trying to push a car back off another. “Fresh,” she told Corp as she strained, “blood and breathing.” She looked at him furiously. “Someone’s alive under this,” she told him. “Give me a hand.”

Corp called out. “We need help over here!” He added his strength to Patchas but had about as much effect as she had. Several others joined them, with the only vehicle that could assist them already engaged elsewhere.

“You know,” one of the straining volunteers said, keeping his tongue out of the way of his teeth, “moving this probably wouldn’t be recommended. It could do more damage to the trapped!”

“I get that,” he replied tightly, “but doing nothing could equally… lead to death.” He strained as the vehicle began to move. “Can anyone see… inside,” he asked breathlessly.

“I can,” a voice replied. A HarvestMican. Corp knew exactly why his first thought was ‘no hat’ but put it aside and told the little one to take a look if it was safe and the figure pushed into the fractured car. “It’s a female Mican,” he advised, “pulse thready but there. She’s trapped against the dashboard!”

“Keep her there as best you can,” Corp told him as the group moved to make the gap bigger. Corp wondered where the driver of this car was. They’d obviously gotten out. “Just assure her that help’s coming. Even if you don’t think she can hear you.”


The work continued into the early evening.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I like that they are trying to calm her down after the accident. When you are scared and hurt you need someone to reassure you things will be fine and to stay with you.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

11

Mikkel Rhew sighed and forced himself to brighten up as he stood at the end of the walk to Tamara Dox’s bungalow and put a smile on his face as he walked up to the door, making sure there were no traces of blood on his new shirt and he pushed tired muscles into new enthusiasm as he used the key Tamara had given him as a sign of trust a few months ago. The door opened to warmth and the smell of vegetarian baking hanging in the air. He’d gotten used to it now. It even quite appealed. As, uh, side dishes, of course. He could hear the noise of the vid on low in the main room as the door closed behind him and he stepped in. “Evening, Tam,” he said, as the elderly Lappinean had asked him to call her.

His mother in law paused the vid, stood up and walked around the sofa, taking in the look on his face as she went. She put a hand on his shoulder and he sagged. “Long day,” she asked, before pulling the exhausted agent into a friendly hug. “I saw the news,” she added.

“It’s been a thing,” he replied, accepting the embrace until she broke it. “How’s Snowdrop been?”

“As amazing and as exhausting as usual,” Tamara ventured, stepping over to the kitchen and mixing up a concoction of juices before adding a Celican juice to one of the glasses, using the last half of the supply Mikkel had brought her that morning.

“I’m sorry about this,” Mikkel ventured, “but, with all this and Jasmine having meetings throughout the day…”

“Oh, you don’t need to explain,” Tamara said, moving smoothly to give him his drink, “Pressures of work out here.” She sipped her own. “My days of coping may be well into their last decade but I can cope, full time, until she goes to school.” She sat herself down again and Mikkel sat in the chair opposite until Tamara invited him to the seat next to her. “You know I trust you, Mikkel.”

“Some still don’t,” he told her softly as he took a drink.

She put an arm around his shoulders as she put her show back on. “More fool them,” she said. “You’re pretty good family to have.” She glanced at him. “Anything you can talk about?”

“I’d rather just watch the vid,” he replied, a little testily. “But thanks.”

She felt his strength sagging against her and felt he’d be asleep before long. “You’re taking the guest bed,” she told him.

Mikkel wasn’t in much of a mood to argue. He wasn’t in much of a state to complain about the soap opera he was watching or the salad he was eating as he drank his drink and gave his mother-in-law a kiss goodnight and slouched off to bed.


The door opened and let Jasmine in half an hour later. “Staying overnight, is he,” she asked quietly as mum got the carrot liquor out and poured two glasses. Mikkel still hadn’t quite got the taste for it.

“It’s been a bad day,” Tamara told her daughter. “Armed robbery of a bank truck this morning and that disaster in Salbury Drive this evening. IOC’s involved in both.”

“He told you?”

She chuckled. “The day I can’t see the news is the day I lose my faculties. He’d never tell me. He doesn’t want to worry me.”


An hour or so later, Jasmine joined her husband in the guest bed and looked forward to the waking up as she drifted to sleep.


They woke up at the behest of the alarm clock that Jasmine had set for half an hour earlier than usual and had just finished 'waking up' when Snowdrop entered, as fast as she could. “Hi, Daddy,” she called as he pulled her into a loving hug, the demons of the previous day forced back by good sleep, good exercise and holding the two most beautiful ladies on the colony in his arms. She kissed him lovingly. “Nanna took me to the park yesterday and let me play in the playground and I played chase with a Feline girl who said she liked my teeth and Nanna and the girl’s mother got on well and…” She ran out of words and Mikkel took advantage to tickle her sides and congratulate her for being as brilliant as he knew she was. He put her between himself and Jasmine as he twisted around to face Jasmine and his smiling daughter as Jasmine asked what she thought she’d get up to today. “Nanna’s taking me to the pictures to see a movie! Pad Patrol Extreme!”


After their daughter had left the room, Jasmine leaned back. “We’re going to need to pay mum more,” she told him.

“I know. Checked out any of those schools yet?”

Jasmine nodded, leaving her ears flat on the pillows. “Baycott’s nice. It’s close enough for us and mum and it gets decent reviews.”

“Thought that myself,” Mikkel admitted, after having scoured the net for references about the school over a few days. “You want to talk to admissions? I mean, I’ll do all I can to be there but…”

“Busy days to come,” Jasmine asked, twisting to face him. “I can arrange it, love,” she continued. “Already did, actually. Called them between meetings and set up an appointment for next week.” She chuckled with light menace. “We’ll tell her on the day, OK?”


When Mikkel got to work, Patcha was already in. He looked over at her as he came in. “It’s eight,” he announced rhetorically. “Did you go home last night?”

“No,” the Wolf replied snippily. “I’ve been chasing up the forensics teams. You might need to apologise for me.”

“As always, Patcha.” He joined her at her desk. “Did they come up with anything.”

The Wolf grunted in a manner that Mikkel understood meant yes and he waited until she decided to continue. His good mood had been knocked back a peg or two by the in car radio playing the news that still reverberated with yesterdays events. “Who’s that,” he asked, indicating the Canine on the screen.

“Marius Raklan,” Patha replied as Mikkel realised she’d not taken her eyes off the screen sine he got there.

He waved a hand in front of her until she blinked and looked away for a second. “He’s not here,” Mikkel reminded her, “so target fixation will only hurt your eyes. Who is he?”

“Professional killer and high stakes operative,” Karl said, not thanking Mikkel for his action. “Also the owner of that hand print Feldar found. I’ve put in to Intelligence to trace him.” She sat back. “Might find out why someone declared him dead a year back.”
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

So a person was declared dead for some reason and they need to find that out huh? I can't wait to see how the mystery unravels!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Bluejay at play....

12

Bluejay sat back, a little pleased with himself after he’d had an idea that Adriette had approved of. This person, the Canine, was officially dead but he still had to have travelled here somehow. He’d needed to come through security or some such at customs so he’d taken the picture of Marius Raklan that Agent Karl – who was both impressive and terrifying – had provided and set the system to scan for matches and close matches in traffic cams and starport lines. He also had it looking for near matches on the manifests for the crew of liners that had docked at Pandera for the last few months. He’d added crew that were listed as missing or had terminated their travel on Pandera. Reyna, the Celican in charge with Djaka having a day off, examined his search pattern. “You realise he might well have had more work done than the minimal, yeah?”

The young Mican turned in his chair and grinned at her. “So you believe the stories about some sort of miracle species changing gel?” He looked a little confused as she gave him a grave look. Surely there was no way she could believe in something like that? There wasn’t any..? He stopped as she did her best impression of Agent Karl’s ‘you think I’m kidding’ face.

“Let’s just say there may be more truth than usual to those lies.” She adjusted the monitors he was watching and rewound the footage of someone the computer had indicated. A canine of similar build but different markings with trimmed ears and a narrower muzzle. “That’s him,” she said, shifting Bluejay aside to pull up the documents. Kareth Moklan.

“How… how can you tell,” Bluejay asked, pulling himself up to get a better angle on the picture as Reyna played it again.

“Look at his body language, Sheffield,” Reyna advised. “Every movement is precise, even where he’s avoiding that child that almost knocked into him? That, my fine little squeaks, is a hunter. High skilled military.”

“Do you have to call me ‘squeaks', Valla,” Bluejay asked, slightly plaintively. “Can’t you call me ‘Blue’?”

“Steps to impress, Squeaks,” she remarked happily. “Newbies get hazed. You’re beginning to impress me enough that I’ll consider Blue. But you’re not there yet. Now,” she added, writing a note that the pair of them had identified a possible match on Bluejay’s E-mail, “shall we send this on up?”

Bluejay had to admit he was a bit impressed. She’d given him credit for the program, only taking the credit for the part she’d done. Within a few minutes a reply came in flawless Mican from Agent Beran. He translated for Reyna. “She says excellent work to both of us,” he added, lying slightly, “and she wants us to trace them through the system to see if we can find out where they went.”

“Did she really,” Reyna asked archly, not letting on that she knew enough Mican that she could tell she’d not been mentioned at all. “Well, we’d better get on that, eh?”


Corp ran the identity card obtained by security to see if there had been any transactions listed against it, even though he didn’t believe there was and he was about to bang his head against a wall when a comm came through his personal line. He blinked at it. It was a line he’d not used in ages. Almost a decade and… Before it rang out, he answered it and heard an old, familiar, voice in his ear. “Right,” he said, nodding once. He stood up and swept his coat on. “Coming, Patcha,” he asked.

The Wolven agent cocked her head slightly and an ear twisted around to the side of her head. “Where,” she asked.

“U.S.C., Padwin barracks,” he explained, realising that she’d not been able to hear his phone call. “Asked some old friends to do some stock checks on the off-chance. The Artificer at Padwin’s just called in twelve missing Concussion detonators.”

“Can I drive?”

“No. I’m not getting paid enough for that.”

“Spoilsport.” He joined him at the lift.


An hour later, Corp pulled up close to the smaller barracks in what was optimistically called ‘the suburbs’ as it was within an hour’s commute of Pandera City. They’d passed several shops and cafes and fur stylers that had grown around the barracks and hopes that a space port might be established in the area. It wasn’t but, by the time they knew that, the building had begun and officers were looking for cheap places on the planet to live so Padwin became a military town. It drew in soldiers from across the Council bandwidth and Militia members too. Corp realised he’d spent a fair few evenings in the ‘Fighting Fourteenth’ public house and stopped for a moment to pay respects at the bench outside. “He was a hard fighter,” Corp told Patcha as she glanced at the name on the plaque. “Raiders attacked the coach he was on once. Just him and a half dozen civilians of, uh, advancing age against four who were looking to rob them of everything they had. He took all four out. No weapon, just his skills.”

“Brave guy,” Patcha remarked, meaning it. “Went down fighting,” she added, inclining to the bench.

“We all will, Patcha,” Corp remarked, getting back into the car and rolling it forward to the gate. “IOC agents Davidstow and Karl to see Sergeant-Major Hardwick,” he told the guard.


They entered the compound and parked up in the guest zone, getting out as an older greyfur Mican appeared. “First time you call in years,” he said, using a tone that commanded respect and obedience, “and you want something, Corporal Cheesy.”

“And that’s how I knew it was you, not some fake,” Corp replied, not looking to explain the nickname/insult to Patcha. “So, where’s the missing?”

“Straight to it. Of course.” The Sergeant-Major led them to a storage unit with guards outside . “Put in place by the company commander after we discovered the discrepancy. Barring the gate after the Equinna has bolted.” He opened the door and the trio stepped into a cornucopia of weapons that stretched from wall to wall and back as far as possible. The NCO led them across to where the concussion mines were stored and Corp could see that there were gaps in the boxes. He got his print detector out and ran it over the boxes to see if they could get anything. They’d take them for forensics anyhow but the less effective method might bring something up first. “You’ll have the prints of all who’ve touched them to our knowledge,” he said. “Although one of the people who work in the armoury hasn’t turned up today.”


Ten minutes later, Corp was standing in the missing Noncom’s living room, looking at the signs of an intrusion. Rivets had cracked the floor and carpet. A knife had cut back, according to the spray on the wall and the Mican on the floor with the bloodied blade. “You didn’t go easy either, did you,” he asked the corpse.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

That is such a gruesome crime scene even if the corpse did fight back. Probably wasn't a quick and painless death either. :?
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Getting some Manhunter vibes with this, the description of the crime scene is very similar to the one from that movie, and the emphasis on Rhew and his family mirror the themes of family from it. Neat.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I also am really looking forward to more of Rhew in his family. This is gonna be a really interesting story.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

13

“You’re keeping me busy, Davidstow,” Ollahar announced, crouching over the latest dissection for his slab as it lay in its own blood. “I can go months without a Police issue corpse and now I’ve got a backlog,” he groused. “I’ve had to call in Doctors from all over thanks to yesterday.”

“I’m not the one keeping you busy,” Corp groused in return. “I’ll pass your thanks on to those responsible. What can you tell?”

“From this?” The Corgan gestured to the dead Mican, his face still full of surprise. “He found it riveting.”

“Bad joke, Doc.”

“Sue me. And don’t touch the pocket. I’ll get to that now.”

Corp didn’t confess that he hadn’t seen there was something in the inner jacket pocket so waited for the Coroner to popen the pocket with his surgical clamp and carefully remove a small, silver, case as Corp got gloves on to receive it. A flask. Corp took the top off and carefully took a sniff. He put the top back on. “Castorian Klinnamint,” he said simply.

“Does that help you,” Ollahar asked, boredom tingeing his tone of voice.

Corp pondered for a moment or two. “It just might,” he mused before leaving the room.


He crossed to the kitchen and started checking the recycling as Karl looked on in puzzlement. She closed to watch what he was pulling out and what was left in the bin. “Looking for anything in particular,” she asked.

“Possibly,” Corp replied. “Seems Rivera had tastes, Expensive tastes. Question is, how did he fill those tastes?”


Adriette and Mikkel readied themselves for entry to the hotel room booked in Kareth Moklan’s name. It was quiet. Unassuming. So quiet and unassuming that they’d evacuated the rooms surrounding it quietly and had several police officers alongside them as Adriette up the card in the reader and opened the door. The door opened fractionally and Mikkel checked for traps attached and lights across the doorway. He wasn’t expecting any as someone trying to stay under the radar wasn’t going to risk drawing attention to themselves by riddling housekeeping with holes. He didn’t find any either so the group moved into the room.


A Raitchian teen lay in the bed, next to a Mican that he’d spent some time mating with, based on their positions. This, Mikkel thought, was going to be quite a wake up call. He nodded to Adriette as the police kept their weapons lowered. She rolled her eyes and knocked the door from inside. “Housekeeping,” she called.

The pair woke up immediately. The Mican screamed at the sight all around her as the Raitchian impulsively put his hands up. The covers dropped down. “You want to pull those covers up a bit,” Mikkel asked the Mican. She looked at him, uncomprehending, so he pulled the covers up to her hand. She grabbed them and covered her torso. “We’re IOC,” he told them calmly. “Looking for Kareth Moklan. Apparently he’s booked this room?”

Shivering and shaking, the girl pointed to the boy, who was shaking almost as much as she was. Adriette rolled her eyes. “Think you’d better tell us, don’t you?”




Feldar sat at his desk and read through the first of the forensics reports from the actions yesterday and he had the feeling there was a lead or two from the vehicle. It seemed it had been a few, specific, locations from what they found embedded in the tyres and engine. He’d made a call a half hour back. After all, he did know a specialist in the area, didn’t he? It was about time for… The comm beeped and

Jasmine Rhew answered the comm and smiled at him. <“Heya, Feldar,”> she said brightly, <“I’ve had Professor Ildarra look through the documents you sent. According to her, the combination of Restaweed husks and Kaybran seeds can only have come from one area around here. Especially as they’re out of season. Whoever this is...”> her gaze turned slightly stern <“and I know how dangerous they are, even though I won’t ask you to protect him… Whoever this is, they’ve travelled through or from the arborium librium complex at Hartham. You need to get these people, Feldar.”>

“We’re all doing our best, Jasmine.” Feldar closed the link before instituting another one to the Chief of Police.


Adriette sat opposite a half dressed Raitchian teenager, noting he had the gloss coat of someone who was trying hard to impress the girlfriend Mikkel and a female police officer were watching over. Mikkel had made her some tea from the travel replimat that was ubiquitous with this sort of establishment and, probably, told her this wasn’t anything serious, they needed to know a few things. Adriette had told this little chancer pretty much the same thing. Of course, she’d used her sterner voice and she was filming as the worried looking youth looked up at her, answering her questions as best he could, no lies in his eyes or on his shining dry teeth. “Does my mother need to know about this,” he asked plaintively, thinking of future meals and the upset on her face.

“Depends on the lies you tell me,” Adriette replied. “The less lies and obfuscation – and you KNOW I know lies and obfuscation – the less chance we’ll need to involve them at this point. Can’t guarantee you’ll not be needed at a future point but you can get out ahead of it.”

“I met a guy yesterday,” the youth explained. “Said he needed to go unseen for a little while. Offered me his card and comm for three hundred credits. Said I could use his room here and, heh, y’know..? The room pays for itself? He’s also got a bit loaded on the card so we could get room service and he had the stuff needed to transfer the idents and… Am I in trouble?”

Adriette sighed. “Little bit. But illegal use of someone else’s commcard is a local affair so these guys’ll have to caution you for that. But I need to know where you met this guy. And what species he was.”

“Oh, um, C...canine. Danan type.”

“And where you met him?”

Adriette held up a hand as he was about to talk. Her comm was buzzing and she needed to answer it. “Yeah, Corp?” She nodded. “Right. No bottle. So..? Castorian Klinnamint?” She whistled. “That’s quite exclusive.” She noted the boy start at the words. “You got something to say,” she asked, before assuring Corp she didn’t mean him.

The… the Osteran Lounge,” he said. “That’s where I met him. They… they serve it there.”
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This certainly is a very riveting turn of events! I can't wait to see what you have planned next!
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

14


Patcha, useless for undercover work due to being the most famous Wolven on the planet, stayed in the overwatch truck as Mikkel and Corp operated inside the club, using tech contact lenses to monitor everyone who was in the club whilst Adriette carried out the duties the official way, asking for the security tapes of the evening the Raitchian boy had indicated he met ‘Moklan’ on the ruse of a credit scanner digitally relieving people of their credits. She was going to be requesting the tapes anyhow but she was trying to divert the security operators attention from the two who weren’t looking to mate or dance and were only drinking soft drinks as they watched everyone move around them.

Next to Patcha, Bluejay was keeping very quiet, sensing his current ‘partner’s annoyance at being relegated to ‘back up’ and thinking she’d hit him if he spoke up or even moved. He was… “Your system hasn’t picked up anything,” she said, a hint of peeve in her tone.

“You can, uh, see,” he said, indicating the screen and wondering if these words would be his last, “the icons will go red if there’s Federal warrants.”

“And blue,” Patcha demanded, pointing to a Feline on the screen being relayed from Mikkel Rhew’s eyes.

“Local warrants. Nothing major.”

“Bring them up,” Patcha demanded, sitting down to read the screen.

“But…”

“Bring. Him. Up,” Patcha snarled. She knew who this little thing with her was linked to. She didn’t like him being there and she was going to put him in his place. “Low level or not, he’s here. And Raklan – or whatever name he’s using – needs local knowledge.”

Bluejay had to suppose she was right. He also had to suppose that, even if she was wrong, it was safer to act as though she was right, so he brought up Kinita Sprawle’s file . He was wanted on two Feline worlds for car theft and various motoring offences and theft of a shuttle. “Getaway driver material,” Patcha sneered. “Upload to Rhew.”

“Of… of course.” Bluejay uploaded the information to Mikkel’s lens.


He hated these things. They always read like this, distorting his view and giving him an ice cream headache, but he supposed Karl must have a point about this one. What was a driver, wanted only on two Feline planets, doing way out here right now? The Polar Celican mused that they probably needed to find out so he made a beeline for the youth who was now stationed at the bar, getting a beverage in. Mikkel danced past the dancers on the floor and approached, readying play ‘A’ for use. He tipped a small amount of powder into his own drink before he ‘accidentally’ stumbled into Corp, sending his drink flying onto the Feline. The Feline cried out and Mikkel apologised as the ‘oblivious’ Corp wandered off. “So sorry,” Mikkel said, using a handkerchief from his pocket to clean the Felines clothes whilst actually activating the tracking compound with the secondary base in the handkerchief. “That Farquin Mican… Can I pay for your shirt,”

“Er, no… no,” the Feline remarked loudly; above the music. “I saw it. Well, I saw you stumble. It was an accident, I think? I have a fresh one.”

“At least let me pay for your drink?”

Sprawle looked confused and puzzled and irritated and like he wanted Rhew out of the way as fast as possible. Which he probably did. “OK, Ok. You can pay.” He nodded to the bartender, a Female Canine of grace and muscle. “His credit,” he said above the din.


Up above, Adriette watched the footage as the security officer tried his hardest to hurry things along so he could get back to watching the actual people in the bar for criminals and cops. Neither were really welcome if they brought trouble to the fore. And cops always brought trouble whereas criminals kept themselves quiet and unobtrusive. Except the credit swipers, druggists and fighters, of course. This had the smell of illusion to him. Distraction even. But he was obligated to help her by the warrant so here he was, doing something p… “These two,” Agent Beran told him, pausing the replay on a Raitchian youth and a Canine male at the bar. “This one,” she added, tapping the screen on the Raitchian’s head, “is one of the people we know was defrauded. But this is mostly the backs of their heads. Is there a better angle?”

The Security Officer reached forward and brought up camera #2, showing their fronts and faces. It was, indeed, Raklan. “Keep it on him,” she instructed after the ident cards changed hands.

“This isn’t about credit skimming, is it,” he asked.

“I can’t possibly say,” Adriette replied before adding ‘without risking your safety.’ “But he’s who we’re interested in.”

“Give me your Galnet address and I’ll send the recordings going back… two weeks?”

“That’s unusually generous.”

“I’m a generous guy. And you lot don’t usually come down on nightclubs for credit sniffers. You handle the heavy stuff. Meaning someone’s used the bar to ferment trouble.” He took the card she offered and started tapping things in. “Three things I don’t like in this bar. Cops. People who attract cops and people who encourage Cops to visit en masse.” He sighed. “At least you’re not here en masse. That I appreciate.”

“Ah, go overt and you lose things in the cracks,” Adriette told him as the files transmitted.



Reyna looked up, opening her one eye, as the quarantine machine flicked on. Rather than straight uploading into the system, files tended to come into this one machine first so they could be cleaned and checked for naughty programmes. She’d been expecting this but not quite as much of it as she’d gotten. This would tax the facial recognition system to its limits. Fortunately, she didn’t have to do it manually. She had programs for that.


Adriette joined the two in the van and put her hand on Bluejay’s shoulder reassuringly. Karl sniffed at her. “He’s not useless, she remarked.

“Good to know,” the Raitchian agent replied, patting the shoulder. “I’d hate to be risking my career on a bad guy.”

“I don’t work for my uncle anymore,” he complained.

“I know,” Adriette remarked. “I’M kidding.”

“And the Cat’s leaving,” Bluejay replied.

Adriette checked the tracker was working. “Corp and Mikkel will follow him. “And we’ll follow them.” She stepped through into the driving compartment. Patcha, without saying ‘shotgun’, declared it by taking the shotgun position, leaving Bluejay to fix his chair’s position to front facing and strap himself in.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

When you say that the quarantine machine checks for naughty programs do yo mean like viruses or other... filty and tasteless programs? XD
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

15

Feldar was working late tonight, having said goodnight to his foster daughter Sally over the vid an hour earlier. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to be here on this particular night, looking for hints and taking calls for the troops as they… he checked the readouts. As they followed a hopefully unknowing driver up towards the Harthum complex and the partially abandoned industrial complex beyond it. It seemed Jasmine’s intel had been on the ball and he wondered what sort of thanks would be appreciated. Her husband back in one piece was the best one, he reckoned. Mikkel would do his best. The vidcomm beeped and Feldar changed the channel to see Reyna’s face. “Found anything,” he asked her.

<“Nothing alluding to the case,”> the Computer tech replied, <“but the Security guy at the club worked out who we were tracking at the bar tonight. He sent over the guy’s purchase record for the night.”>

“And?”

<“Nothing but soft drinks.”> The Celican raised her arms and slapped them back down to her sides. <“What sort of person goes to THAT bar and orders nothing but soft drinks?”>

“Someone who’s driving tonight,” Feldar mused. “Thanks, Reyna.”

<“No trouble. It’s my job.”> She clicked off the line and Feldar shook his head.

“Something on the move now,” he muttered to himself. He flicked the channel again.


Vasta forced herself awake and bleared at the vidsystem as the early hours ticked by relentlessly. She groaned. What did he want now? Dragging her up from her comfortable desk and straining the spinal structure of even a Feline with the odd position that had her shirt wrapped around her middle. She tapped the unit. “What do you want, Feldar,” she asked grumpily. “It’s… oh, you know what time it is.”

<“Sorry for disturbing you, Sonia,”> Feldar said, <“but I was wondering if you’d made any progress on what Corp asked? The list of events?”>

Her brain unfuzzed as anger flicked across her eyes and jolted the synapses into life. “You woke me up for THAT,” she demanded. “Couldn’t it have waited for…”

<“I don’t think it could,”> he interrupted. <“I think we have only hours based on current events. The list?”

She paused and sat up, fumbling around in her desk for the information. “From what I can tell,” she stated, “there’s only a few high value things going out tonight, Feldar. There’s a display coming in to the City museum. Feline jewels and artefacts going back two dozen centuries. The surety payment was the museums entire budget for two years…”

Feldar didn’t look too interested. <“It’s not that,”> he guessed, drinking coffee between that and his thoughts. <“Most of the valuable things there are large. I’m not sure these people have any love of large things and ways to store them.”>

“That leaves out the casinos,” Vasta remarked. “That’s all for the things we know about,” she continued, finger quoting the word ‘know’.

<“Anything we don’t ‘know’ about,”> Feldar asked.

She swallowed. “Only one thing,” she said, her eyes haunted by the implications of what she was about to say. “The first shipment to Cana,” she said hollowly.

<“The vaccine,”> Feldar echoed, stoney-faced. <“It’s shipping tonight?”>

“Under a privately hired escort.”

<“Then that’s it,>” Feldar nodded.

“It’s already underway,”


“Where is this pharmaceutical company,” Mikkel asked as he followed the vehicle the Feline was driving up into the hills. He was keeping about a mile back as the night roared on, largely because the two cars – and one van – were the only things on the road right now and the Feline would easily be able to make out the following vehicle if they got too close.

Corp checked his padd for the location, its display being larger and brighter than his comms holodisplay. “According to this,” he said, “they’re based in the city. But,” he added, “their main production factory is in Sractin.”

Mikkel nodded. “Makes sense. This road leads there.”

Corp looked at him appreciatively. They’d passed no road signs and this wasn’t exactly a best known road… “How’d you know that?”

“My people are tundra hunters,” Mikkel reminded him. “We learn every inch of our surroundings. This road intersects State road fifteen in about fifteen miles. Check the maps and see if there’s any good ambush points between Yalstrom and the main road?”

Corp flicked through the maps settings until he’d located what he hoped was their main compound and the main gates before flicking it to surface view and answering the question he’d had about why they’d built it out here. “A colonial Development Area,” he muttered, looking at the sign that indicated the colonial government offered financial incentives for anyone setting up there, the bigger the better.

“What,” Mikkel asked.

“Nothing. Just finding out it’s all about money. Looking now,” he added as Mikkel slowed for a bend.


“Can’t this thing go faster,” Patcha demanded as the van followed about three miles behind Mikkel and Corp.

“It’s limited to sixty,” Bluejay put in, earning himself a growl.

“Shut up,” Patcha told him.

“It’s limited to sixty,” Adriette repeated. “And he’s an agent, Patcha,” she added. “Be nice.”

Patcha grumbled. “PLEASE shut up,” she amended, “PROBATIONARY agent Sheffield Whitby.”

He thought that he should ask her to call him ‘Bluejay’ but decided that wouldn’t go down well.


“Any thoughts,” Mikkel asked Corp as they crossed under the state road into the woods beyond.

“Yeah,” Corp told him. “I think I can tell the ambush point.”

“Where?”

Corp looked up as Mikkel put the brakes on at the sequenced flashes of light on the road up ahead. “Right there,” he said.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Whatever they are going into I hope they are ready. You never know WHAT you are gonna find in these situations.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

16

Mikkel parked up as the flashes dimmed in the near distance and got out of the vehicle. “Not going up against them unarmed, he stated, opening the boot and pulling out the body armour and heavier weaponry as Corp called it in to all points before joining his colleague at the boot as Mikkel finished attiring himself and got back to the drivers seat. Corp, feeling his age, pulled himself back in and Mikkel sped off towards the scenario, now activating the lightbells of the vehicle, letting the whistles stay silent.

“Sometimes I feel my age,” Corp told him simply.

“Just remember to feel older tomorrow,” Mikkel declared as the pair came onto the scene.


Three vehicles had been killed by the devices, flipped onto their roofs by the concussive blasts. One of the vehicles behind had avoided the blast meant for it and the two occupants were involved in a shooting match with four assailants in combat armour, two of which were turning towards Mikkel and Corp now, seemingly having been alerted to ‘police!’ by the occupant of the getaway vehicle that Mikkel was aiming straight at.


In the centre of the firefight, both sides trying to avoid it, was a van that Corp knew had stasis facilities inside, maintaining equilibrium and stability for the thousands of phials of vaccine it was carrying. They’d need to be stable for transport. It was blocked in. They were probably going to take command of it after killing the escorts and then, probably, the crew. He also knew what Mikkel was doing. Getting so close to their getaway vehicle, blocking it if they could, would discourage them from shooting at them. Possibly. No-one likes a getaway car with holes. Mikkel swung the car around, skidding it to a stop next to the vehicle. Corp could see the feline in the car. He could see the shock on his face. He could see the weapon in the youth’s hand rising towards him. Corp fired sideways without opening his own window. With the power of an energy shotgun, it blasted his own window out in a spray of glass, shattered the other cars glass in a similar spray and took most of the felines head off before continuing out the other side before the others could return fire. Corp threw himself into the back seat and out behind the driver’s seat to join Mikkel behind the car before its energy defences were overwhelmed by the incoming fire. Rapid fire shots washed across the screen and hood as the criminals weren’t using quiet weapons any more.

Nix that, Mikkel told himself as a rivet cracked through the plating and into the engine block. “You wanna say it,” he asked Corp, shifting into shooting position as Corp covered the other side.

“Nah,” Corp said, “you go on.”

“IOC,” Mikkel yelled. “Throw down your weapons!” His response was a fusillade of fire. “You do it next time,” he told Corp as the soldier moved to the back of the other vehicle.


The door opened in the back of the van and Karl held Bluejay out by his collar and dropped him at the roadside by where Mikkel and Corp had stopped a few minutes earlier. He’d protested but Karl had closed off that avenue very quickly and Adriette had advised him that they’d be back as soon as. If they were successful. Their last order to him was to ‘wait there’ as they shut the door and roared off. The junior agent looked after them in exasperation, asked what he was supposed to do out here, and started walking for the nearest house. Or transport stop. Maybe there was a shop?

He supposed that his comm still worked at least. He’d probably better call base and ask if they could pick him up. Oh, and tell them the fight was on.


Feldar took the call on the move, being in Vasta’s car, at the head of a small task force of police vehicles that had set sail from the central office. “Situation,” he asked.

<“I’ve just been dumped out of the van, sir,”> Bluejay complained and Feldar triangulated his position from the positioning system embedded in his comm and ankle tag. <“Think the fight’s close by. I can hear shooting.”>

“If you can hear shooting, Sheffield,” Feldar warned, “you’re too close.” He looked to Vasta. “Got anyone you can send to here,” he asked, indicating Bluejay’s position. “Isolated tech nerd. If the hostiles flee that way, they’re going to run into him.”

<“Beg pardon, sir,”> Bluejay asked desperately.

“Wasn’t talking to you, ‘Jay.”

Vasta noted there was a retired officer near Sheffield’s location and called him to pick the Mican up. Feldar advised that Bluejay was at a transit stop and she relayed that with thanks. “Stay at the transit stop,” Feldar advised, “a retired local officer… Plavey, apparently, will be there in five.”

<“Thanks.”>

“You owe me, Feldar,” Vasta remarked as they both turned their comms off. They were still at least ten minutes out.


Mikkel kept low and wondered where the last two of the official guard team had gotten to. They weren’t in the dead car he was next to. Had they run for their lives after the agents had arrived to take on their burden? He swivelled to fire a blast of energy at his opponent and missed as his foe moved and fired back at him. He wondered if back up was inbound. He wondered if THEY had back up inbound. They were fighting like they were after a way out which, of course, they were now that their getaway driver was dead. He heard the car fizzing and sprinted away, drawing fire as he was in the open. Until the car exploded. Mikkel threw himself flat as the metal blasted in all directions. Corp was safe behind the other car and he was exposed, covered only by the fact his assailants were under fire from Corp and the explosion. He felt the shards shooting around him, chipping the road and cutting into his legs and feet and all around his body as he kept his head down, protected by his hands.


Corp rose from cover and brought the number of assailants down from four to three as he goggled at the explosion that had just stunned him slightly. He’d noted the nearly ineffectual shooting from the official bodyguards on the body armour and had shifted to head and leg shots. Mikkel worked to drag himself towards the verge, pushing himself up onto his knees as one of the enemy noticed him...
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Fingers crossed that Mikkel doesn't get gunned down by the enemy that sees him. They either need the cavalry to come or Corp to notice and shoot the enemy before he blows Mikkel away.
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

17

The killer that would be looked up as the headlights of the approaching vehicle and fired at it by instinct. The windscreen cracked and a young nurse screamed before her shift began as the car slewed around, out of control, and crashed into the barrier in the centre of the road. He turned his attention back to Mikkel, who had half turned over in the road and was raising his weapon. The killer hesitated for half a second and felt the heat as Corp fired from his hiding position, blitzing one of the Canine’s arms off at the elbow. The Canine’s gun jumped and the shot went awry, striking the ground five feet from Mikkel’s head. He staggered in shock as his disconnected finger hung on the triggerguard and threatened to fire again with reflex actions against the trigger, even as his other arm held the base of the firearm. Corp ducked back down. There was still one other out there at least. Plus he could see the lights coming from the same direction they had.


Even before the van got there, the silhouette of a Wolf played against the early morning light and crunched into the Canines chest, bearing him and his smell of stinking meat down to the ground as Adriette pulled up and the last assailant, seeing the scene for what it had become as the flashing lights shone in the distance, decided surrender was a good choice. The Brockian nurse pulled herself out from her shattered car and fought to ignore her bloodied shoulder and struggled to pull her kit from the back.


As Feldar and Vasta pulled up, the situation was, more or less, handled. Adriette and Corp were handling the intact prisoner whilst the nurse tended to Mikkel and Patcha made absolutely sure the wounded Canine was restrained. “I want to make sure,” Vasta announced, striding towards the downed Canine, still breathing due to the wound having been cauterised by the energy blast that had split it and she kneeled down beside him. She gripped the helmet he was wearing and pulled it free. “This isn’t Raklan,” she said, looking into the half glassed eyes of the Goldan staring back at her.

“Was sure of that from the smell,” Karl retorted.

“So where is he,” Vasta asked.


“Well, yeah,” Bluejay told his comm from the living room of the retired officer who’d picked him up, “I probably could find out about incoming comm calls but who’s and why? And where can I get a computer?” The old Officer, a Feline, appeared with a laptop device that was already turned on and past the password screen. “It’s my sons,” he explained. “He lives next door with his boyfriend but they’re both out with friends tonight and he’s too cheap to use his own broadband anyhow.”
“Oh,” Jay said appreciatively as the eldster went up to bed, “Nix that last, I have a computer.” He examined the import tabs and wirefree subdrive sockets. “She’s old but I can work with that.” He knew why Jones was asking him. Reyna or Djaka would need warrants before they agreed to this sort of thing. He knew backdoors. He knew ways that worked on spoofing the comm frequency of the device and accessing records. It wasn’t without its dangers if done haphazard but it seemed to be time critical so he started logging in as fast as the local net would let him as soon as Feldar provided the commlink code.


Adriette allowed Corp and Patcha to intimidate the surviving bodyguards into statements as the others counted the dead and dying around the closed road. With the sealed in driver of the truck protesting that they needed to get the vaccine to the spaceport before it was rendered useless, Vasta had permitted it to leave with three of her cars as escort so forensics of the scene had been damaged by having to push two ruined cars and their trapped corpses out of the way. Ollahar would be apocalyptic but the van needed to be gone as soon as possible and still had to move slowly through t row of holes. They’d been placed like micro mines across the road in three rows and they needed to get forensics here fast so they could safely remove the remaining ones. In fact they’d called in everyone as, once forensics got all they could, highways maintenance needed to get here. The road was sealed off until they’d filled in the holes. It meant major diversions for everyone, especially the locals.

Adriette approached the nurse as she finished tending to one of the injured survivors of the initial attack. The female had broken a leg and had three broken ribs from the crash down and had only survived due to her crashbag and the nurse had been running her tests so the paramedics could deal with the cases that were more extreme. “Not going into work today,” she asked the Brockian.

The white stripe looked back at her, her head bandaged and her shoulder still raw, exposed almost to the bone and tolerated by painkillers. “Work came to me,” she said through teeth that bore the stains of her own blood. “I’ll call in,” she added. “You going to make me give a statement right now,” she added, looking around at the others still on the ground.

“No,” Adriette told her. “I’ll do it when the painkillers fade.” She pointed idly at the shoulder. “When you won’t want to be treating clients, eh?”

“Fair enough.”

Adriette crouched by one of the fallen attackers and pulled their glove off to place their hand on her padd. The machine took the prints and started running them through the system.


Vasta rubbed her eyes and stretched against the moon as it waned below the horizon, the morning winds picking up across the silence as Feldar crossed with a camera to photograph more of the scene. “In a way I envy you, Feldar,” she said as a way of breaking the silence between them.

He looked at her curiously. “How so,” he asked.

“I’ve just karked my budget up for the next three months,” she explained, referring to the presence both at the scene and the teams enforcing the roadblocks all around the area to stop others contaminating the scene more than Ollahar insisted they had. “You, at least, don’t have to justify yourself to the city council for extra money so you can do your job.”

“No,” Feldar replied with a dry humour. “I just have to justify myself to sector command.” He paused. “Sheffield’s calling me. Hang on.”

She could have continued as Feldar took the call but Adriette Beran distracted her, coming over with her padd. “I took his prints,” the Raitchian said, indicating the fallen on the road. “And ran them through the system.”

Vasta’s fur was rising. She’d watched the Raitchian do it. “You got a result this fast,” she growled. “Local perp?”

“Uh, no,” Adriette admitted with a cringe. “It’s worse than that. Local cop.”

Vasta looked at the readout. Her eyes widened slightly and her ears turned back. “It’s worse than even that,” she breathed.


Bluejay kept his voice down as he didn’t want to wake the people upstairs, even though his heart was racing just a bit. “Yeah, sir,” he said, “I managed to trace there was a call from a landcomm to that number when we were tracking the guy. Yeah. When he was in the bar but sir… Sir… The landcomm signal?” Now he almost hissed into the comm. “According to the logs, that call came from next door to me now!”
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

That is very ominous that the call came from right next door to the current location. I do wonder what this means? :?:
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Harry Johnathan
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Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Harry Johnathan »

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Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Amazee Dayzee
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Joined: Tue Aug 12, 2014 6:24 pm

Re: IOC PANDERA -HOLD UP

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Better get some weapons to arm yourself with quick in that case. You don't know what will happen next.
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