Ask Coruscant We Have a Problem.

[Lorcan]

Finding a Ranger to talk to you when you claimed to have evidence on a case they were working was fairly easy to do, all things considered, when you knew how they worked on a level that only came with first hand experience. Saying just the right thing to get a Ranger to come out to a dirty back alley on Coruscant to meet with a potential informant was childsplay for him.

Honestly he likely could have given his real name and they would have sent someone because of that - but he didn't want to bank on that considering what he was currently investigating. If he had given his name then he was certain that the element of his investigation he was most on edge about would have flared up and things would have gotten bad.

Fast.

As a testament to how badly things could go, he was armed for the first time since he had become a PI. There were restrictions on what types of weapons registered PIs could carry when they were on the job, up until they were fully approved by the local authorities. He hadn't been a PI long so he didn't have that approval but he was willing to risk it considering how bad things could get.

Waiting in the alleyway, he had his helmet tucked under his arm and a cigarette in his mouth as he waited for the Ranger they would send. Once they arrived he would need to talk quick, if they recognized him or if they didn't.

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

The small comm resting in Bast’s ear buzzed to indicate an incoming message. Stacking her paperwork and quickly glancing at the HUD on her datapad, she straightened and rose. A blinking red light indicated the call, but the shift had been eerily calm otherwise. The robotic sounding dispatch briefed the ranger on her mission: to meet up with an informant and gather information on case Delta-4. Finally, a challenge that relied on her skills as a detective and did not force her into a jack-of-all trades position. Not that rendezvous were particularly difficult tasks. She simply knew the right questions to ask, or atleast hoped she did.

Having been given very little intel on Delta-4, the woman was left to puzzle the case out for herself. She was to meet a male, 29, brown hair, blue eyes, slim and muscular in build. Delta tags were typically used for internal affairs, meaning the Sector Rangers likely had some stake in the situation. Not for the first time, Bast wished she had been provided with a case file, or at the very least some background. Perhaps it was a test of trust, giving the woman an internal case, and she had to prove herself?

With a deep sigh to quell the small bit of apprehension that always accompanied solo mission, especially those that involved dark alleyways, she hopped in a speeder and shot off into the dazzling city lights. Coruscant had never been her planet in terms of emotional connection or where she was based out of. The sprawling ecumenopolis felt like a a slightly warped reflection of her home world, Corellia. The streets were filled with criminals, but they weren’t her streets. Nevertheless, the Core was her sector, so naturally at some point, she should’ve expected being deployed on Coruscant. If it wasn’t her home, it was surely someone else’s and she had a duty to galactic citizens. This case weighed especially heavy on her mind because the Sector Rangers were her home, even if the planet was not.

Cognitive dissonance was a familiar but unwelcome presence in Bast’s mind. Fitting a nuanced galaxy into black and white morals was difficult, but not impossible, and frequently the struggle came with a tangle of emotions. In order to take her mind off of it’s unsatisfying hover-train of thought, she entertained herself by people watching. The driver ahead of her was bouncing from lane to lane and blasting music- likely heading home from the club. At the next stoplight, she typed in the identification of the vehicle to notify local law enforcement of the intoxicated speeder operator. Shaking her head, Bast wondered what possessed people to drink. Alcohol only impaired one’s senses. Not to mention, drunk crowds ranged from public nuisances to dangerous mobs. She’d had her fair share of crowd control calls. Intoxicating oneself for pleasure and putting others at risk seemed a selfish risk to take, and not one she would leave unaddressed.

After a quarter of a hour in the slow crawl of traffic, the sign for Bolo’s Spa finally appeared, it’s neon lights casting harsh shadows on the filthy street. Unsurprisingly, her contact was not in plain sight, it’s waiting. Exiting her speeder, Bast scanned the area cautiously, keeping her back to the nearest wall. Out of precaution, a DG.7 was holstered at her hip, but hopefully the situation would require no such equipment. Glowing embers from a cigarette created a small pinpoint of light in the dark alley. So there he was. Although details were hard to make out, something about the man’s stance was familiar. He stood like a soldier, like... a ranger? Whoever the shadowed figure was, he had information she needed. Hands in clear view so as not to be seen as a threat, the woman approached casually, although her words were anything but. “I am Ranger Emblai. I assume you are the Private Investigator I am scheduled to meet? Nice to meet you.”

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

Time ticked by and no one had shown up yet.

Lorcan was beginning to suspect that he was being set up, that the target of his investigation had somehow managed to figure out what was going on and had decided to come and visit him personally. He honestly really hoped that wasn't the case because the worst case scenario left him dead... and the best case scenario left him with a dead Ranger on his hands and only some rather vague evidence that said Ranger had been dirty.

He'd likely die before he made it into a cell in that second scenario so death or death if it wasn't someone else. When he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching he pressed himself against the wall and held his hand against his blaster pistol. Part of him wanted to draw it but he knew he shouldn't until it was confirmed he had been sold out.

Until then it would be a bad idea.

Catching a glance of her, he immediately knew that it wasn't the target of his investigation so he let himself ease up and move forward so she could see him... though not close enough that she recognized him. Had they ever met? He honestly didn't think that he had despite their shared history.

"Ranger Emblai - Outpost Blue, the first breaching attempt." he recalled with a grimace as he stepped into the light better, "Former Ranger Lorcan."

Left unsaid was that it had been his operation. His missions that had put her in such a terrible position. He coughed awkwardly.

"I'm not here about case Delta-4, I just needed to speak to a Ranger I knew wasn't connected to my case because... I'm a PI, yeah, but right now I'm on the trail of a dirty Ranger. And I need help with that."

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

Outpost Blue, the first breaching attempt. Clearly the man had read the paperwork as well. Likely out of respect, he didn’t mention the last portion logged next to her name on the report: single survivor, found in critical condition with attached photos of her injuries and a medical report. The woman was thankful the dark could hide her burning cheeks, but her eyes flashed and her stoic face shifted slightly. There was one other pertinent piece of information she had read in the report, and that was that the operation had been run by Lorcan. Nevertheless, her tone remained even and she gave a forced smile of greeting. Perhaps she could forgive, but the detective knew she could never forget. Not that she was better than the man. Bast was paying for her own mistakes, as well as those of others. Justice was served. Always.

“Sir?” So the former ranger wasn’t there about Delta-4. Had that been a cover up? A deluge of questions flooded in. Why did Lorcan leave the Rangers? What made him trust her, a part of the organization he’d recently departed from? What was his motive for assisting them? PIs Generally made good money. Naturally, none of the queries were verbalized. As much as she wanted to know about the ruggedly handsome snitch, she understood the principal of privacy. Information appeared to be on a need-to-know basis, which was fine, at least for the time being.

The mention of a bad Sector Ranger was not at all surprising. Bast had more enemies than friends within her profession due to her position as a moralist. The question was simply which one was finally going to take the fall they deserved. Some thought pressed at the back of her mind and she turned her informant’s name over in her mouth, trying to pull forward the memory. She’d heard something about him, but couldn’t quite grasp what it was. Turning her attention back to the man, she listened intently, watching his body language, analysing Which pauses were natural and which weren’t.

Hazel eyes still scanning his face, she spoke up. “I would be honoured to help, and I am glad to hear you are seeking impartial judgement. Please tell me about this Ranger. First however, it would be wise to move locations, as I’m sure you are aware, and secondly, I have a question. You are under no obligation to answer, of course. Is there anything I should know about your relationship with the group I represent?”

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

It was dark so he didn't have to see whatever darker look she gave him as the one responsible for putting the operation together for the spacestation. After all, if he had been the one in charge then it's successes and it's failures were on him. Why had there been only two teams sent in with the first breaching attempt? Why hadn't he given them heavier weapons and armour or sent in a third breaching team at the same time to further fragment the pirate response?

All questions he had asked himself and all questions that had been raised during his performance review after the mission. The review board had seen fit to approve it all, signing it off as unfortunate but not the result of negligence on his part. Still, the resentment of a survivor was a palpable thing.

He pulled out a disposable datapad, handing it over to her with a small, brief, profile of the Ranger in question. The information was cobbled together so although it was in the same style/format as some of the files Rangers used that was more out of familiarity than anything else. The information on the Ranger in question was nothing but that which he could drag up himself.

"Ranger Giran'oton, Nikto." he repeated as he handed the information over, "Supposed to be a specialist in arms trafficking stings but I crossed paths with him during an investigation into a cheating spouse. Turns out he has at least one bolt-hole house in the lower levels that he keeps for his mistresses; followed her to one and it's not pretty. There's dirty credits stuff in bug-out bags and enough explosives in the walls to blow both it and the closest five apartments at a moment's notice."

Twitching slightly at a motion of a shadow in the distance, he thought nothing of it when no further motion occurred. Sighing a little bit, he rubbed at his stubble.

"You mean why did I leave and if I have a grudge against the Rangers that colours my perception?" he snorted in amusement, "I know the language. No - I left for me. Check my files and you'll see I left for mental health reasons brought on by my own actions while on the job; nothing about the people, the Rangers in general or anything like that. Just a man trying to get enough credits together to be able to take care of his own mental health."

Of course the shadow wasn't just a shadow.

A blast fired from height came crashing down, the disruptor shot shutting down the vehicle that Bast had arrived in with a single shot. Cursing, Lorcan dove to the side to seek cover, drawing his blaster rifle from where it had been slung over his shoulder. He welcomed the feeling of it in his hands again as if he had never given it up.

A second shot, this one a heavy blaster bolt that exploded a decent chunk of duracrete by his feet, came after a three second delay.

"Sniper on the roof - NT-242 anti-tank rifle guessing by the delay between shots." he snapped out on instinct, "I have a speeder bike at the other end of the alleyway, make a run for it and I'll provide cover fire."

Spoiler: Dice

Disruption surprise!

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

Silently, the Ranger took the datapad extended towards her and scanned the entry on the suspect, the text supplemented with Lorcan’s summary of the man. She sensed a reserved tone to his words, almost mournful, when he was reciting the common verbal briefing pattern the Sector Ranger’s used, causing her stern expression to recede slightly. Whether the structure of the report was out of habit or to make her more comfortable, Bast appreciated the familiar format used to describe the suspect, the crime, and the objective. For the first time with the relative stranger, she felt a sort of kinsman-ship. Whether the detectives wanted it or not, they were connected by the past, if indirectly.

Hearing about the man Lorcan was looking into made her skin crawl. Giran'oton clearly posed a danger not only to civilians, but the reputation of the very group she was a part of. Corruption and justice never had, and never could coexist. The Nikto was selfishly playing both sides, becoming the type of man he swore to penalize. He was the sort she disliked with a great passion for their hypocrisy.

A quick movement out of the corner of the woman’s eye caused her to tense. The other man had seen it too, judging by his nervous twitch. The two remained dead silent, with Bast barely breathing, but after a few moments, when nothing had occurred, she focused back on the man with her. The fact that he was on high alert as well comforted her in an odd way. The implication was that experience on the job honed and dictated his perception of the world: that of mistrust. It was significantly safer to be with a man in an alleyway who trusted nothing and no one than an unprepared, naive one.

"You mean why did I leave and if I have a grudge against the Rangers that colours my perception?"

“I uh... no. Please. I believe you misunderstood.” Not exactly truthful, considering he clearly knew exactly what she meant. Still, the former-ranger’s forwardness had taken her aback. Clearly the man did not shy away from the truth, or calling out her motive. Hearing her words phrased more crudely ground her jaw with embarrassment. He went on, seeing right through her facade of formality and politeness.

"I know the language.“ An amused look told Bast that subtlety paid off very little in a situation where the both operatives, private and public, knew the truth. He is a detective. It was really no wonder he could see through lies and pick up unspoken hints as easily as she would. Suddenly, the woman felt rather childish for her little game of being professional. “No - I left for me. Check my files and you'll see I left for mental health reasons brought on by my own actions while on the job; nothing about the people, the Rangers in general or anything like that. Just a man trying to get enough credits together to be able to take care of his own mental health."

If the Private Investigator’s intention was to get the woman off his back, he was accomplishing it rather well. Lorcan was overwhelming her with honesty, backing her into a corner of shame for prying. There was one man she had admitted her internal struggle to, and it had taken time. Time to let him know she was weak in some way. Time time tell Corran that she felt guilty and incompetent. Time to even give him a glimpse of what she had gone through. Time to realize he wasn’t going to think less of her because she felt broken. Rather than pity the man across from her, she was stunned by his courage. If he had the nightmares, the intrusive thoughts, the irrational anger or fear, and had the nerve to speak up about them to a relative stranger, the man was either stupid or brave. She admired him for it.

“I-” am sorry? I might understand? Kriff it, she couldn’t find the words. They felt too shallow. What would she have liked to hear? The woman had no idea. Before the sentence could be completed, the sound of an energy bolt whined through the air, followed immediately by a small explosion. Without taking time to see what had been hit, the Sector Ranger plastered her back to a wall, leaning away from the burst of fire and covering her face. While one hand checked for any cuts from debris, the other drew her heavy blaster and flicked the safety with a thumb. Only a few seconds later, another shot hit the ground. It must have been some heavy artillery given the crater that was left. Anti-tank rifle? That explained it. Thankfully, ironically, the sniper seemed to struggle with aim.

“Sir.” The response was instinct. She had temporarily forgotten he was not technically her senior officer. Extending the pistol sideways toward the roof she ran to the end of the ally, then provided cover fire for the other man as he ran, her blue bolts scuffing the smooth duracrete of the roof. “Let’s go.” She was breathless. With a quick tap to active the comm link, Bast reported to command. “10-1 Officer and contact receiving fire. Look for a sniper staked on a rooftop with an anti-tank rifle.” It was doubtful the assassin would stick around, but reporting him or her was worth a try. Once they were a reasonably safe distance from the encounter, she spoke again. “What do you suppose that was about? Does Giran'oton already have his men after us?” The case was much more hot than she’d anticipated.

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

Lorcan might have been a detective and a Ranger of many years but he wasn't a mind reader. He could almost feel as though she was embarassed about asking him in a polite way. Not that she should do - it was his own way that he was about as polite as a brick to the face and no one elses. If she wanted to be polite and phrase things in a nice way then he wasn't going to hold it against her.

He was glad she didn't try and say something because that might have been a bit like having a conversation and Lorcan? Well he wasn't really good at the whole 'communication' thing on the whole. Just really blunt and direct so the explosions and firing?

Well that was just him getting back into his grove.

Holding his rifle and hiding in cover from a sniper, it sent adrenaline coursing through his body and he felt so incredibly... at home. Force but he had tried to deny it but he had MISSED this feeling. The sense of dread coiling around the unmistakable twins of excitement and anticipation. Lorcan might have stepped away from being a Ranger because his growing attachment to violence had been concerning him but it felt right to slip back into it.

Like a pair of warm gloves.

They both seemed to step back into their old roles if her response to him was any indication. He ignored it, crouching and firing short bursts from his rifle at the sniper's last spot as she made it up the length of the alleyway. He... wasn't using stun bolts, he realized only after one of his bolts smashed through some of the duracrete of the rooftop.

He clicked it into stun setting as he moved back up to the end of the alleyway.

Shaking slightly, Lorcan resisted the urge to keep his rifle clutched in his hands, strapping it down to the side of the speeder bike instead. He eyed the weapon for a long moment before responding verbally.

"It must be him." he reasoned with a scowl, "Damn it... damn it, he must have gotten word from one of his friends that this was called in. Or he followed me - neither option is pretty."

He sat astride the speeder bike.

"Get on. Way I see it we've got two choices; head back to the nearest outpost and pray he's not painted you as a traitor, get interrogated, explain it all and be too late to catch him or..." he eyed her quietly, "We go to his bolt hole, before he has a chance to escape off world. And we take him down."

There was a thrill at saying the words but unlike Bast, he was sure, his thrill came from the very thought of it. The idea that he would get into a fight with someone - someone who wanted to kill him - and he would instead end their life.

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

A philosopher from some planet had once said that in battle, men were either at their best of worst. Lorcan was at his best. He held his blaster so naturally it seemed like an extension of his body. There was no fear in the low voice, as far as she could tell. His face was that of spice addict getting a fix: anticipation, excitement, thrill. If the sound of gunfire was music, he was most certainly dancing. Even when the former Ranger was safe behind her cover, the investigator struggled to put down his weapon.

It became apparent rather quickly after the barrage of intense fire had ceased that the assassin was departing. Nevertheless, they were in a race against time. Bast’s associate confirmed her suspicions about the employer of the sniper. Sector Rangers were generally given thorough background checks, but if they slipped through the original investigation without conjuring suspicion, they were fairly safe. A certain tradition among Rangers was to keep quiet about the escapades of coworkers. The detective was not a supporter of such traditions. There was also the difficulty of the criminal having the same access to resources as she did. Proving him guilty would be extraordinary difficult, especially if he continues to make attempts on her life.

Reluctantly, Bast slid onto the speeder bike with Lorcan, doing her best to keep physical distance between the herself and the man, which was a challenge considering the seat was meant for one person. She settled with perching herself on the very back, her legs gripping the cheap faux leather and plastiod seats, her heavy blaster pistol still in hand as a precaution.

Options were limited. There was the risky option of racing the suspects to his lair and apprehending him that would likely lead to conflict and use of weapons. Of course, it was better than pointlessly returning to the station. At the moment, she was in enough hot water to boil a bantha. Lieutenant Ghotti had calmly threatened her in front of her own team, pinning her as unfit for duty and irresponsible. He would have no qualms believing and accusing her of traitorous plots. The worst part of it was that she and those who’s respect she’d previously earned would be thrown into the brutal light of conspiracy. A small bit of anger bubbled up before the woman could suppress it, and a shadow of anger crossed her face.


“It seems to me you have already made your decision. However, Investigator, I must defer to your choice. I know a few of my fellows who would jump at the opportunity to accuse me of treachery.“ And her job was her life. It was all falling apart, and this was a feeble attempt to hold the pieces together and earn back some credit weighing her organization. “I do suggest we hurry, though.” Behind the dry humor of her words was hidden genuine worry. The woman was out of her depth with no land in sight. She hoped she could swim well enough.

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

Lorcan was trying hard to ignore the way his blood was singing at him, telling him that he had done the right thing by throwing himself into the fray like that. By taking up a weapon he had sworn he wouldn't use anymore. Not least of which was the fact that he was now a private citizen and openly discharging a blaster in even a semi-public place like this was grounds for a caution at least.

Speaking of which...

"You should give me an official caution." he told her as they were speeding through the city depths, "For discharging a blaster rifle in public. I'm a private citizen and that's the rules - if this goes sideways, I want you coming out of it smelling of roses, Emblai."

Usually he wouldn't give a damn if someone got dirty doing what was right but... he had karked over Emblai once before. No matter what he said or thought, some part of the Outpost mission failure fell on him. He had already made her life harder than it needed to be, he didn't need to make it worse for no cause.

"Maybe wait until we've captured him though."

Second warning was a court case - he wanted her to look good, he didn't want to go to court over this. There were limits to what he was willing to do after all! As they were approaching the apartment complex he eyed it, pulling to a stop.

"52nd floor, room 2213A. Repeat, 2213 Alpha." he reported as he dismounted, taking up his rifle again with both reluctance and anticipation in equal measure, "You hold rank here, Emblai. How do you wanna play this?"

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

There was a short, concentrated pause in conversation as the two collaborators whizzed by, on their way to apprehend the man. The woman took the moment slow her racing heart and begin forming a plan. Bits of escaped hair fluttered in the unnatural breeze and loose debris occasionally stinging her exposed face. Was the sniper truly the rogue Sector Ranger they were pursuing? He’d taken a potshot at the men he’d fought beside for years? Bast knew few of her comrades held the same absolute moral law she did, but Giran'oton’s attack was below the belt by all standards. Only criminals had no regard for honour. If she‘d had any previous doubts, the Nikto had condemned himself.

Lorcan’s matter of fact statement jarred her slightly. The detective had simply assumed he was permitted and cleared for restricted weapons use. The process was common for registered Private Investigators and Bounty Hunters. Technically, an official caution was in order. Bast attempted to conjure a mental image of the alley, trying to remember any holorecorders or security cams. On one hand, she wanted to avoid any potential scrutiny at all costs. Lt. Ghotti would have her face plastered on every holonet article next to the title “Corrupt Sector Ranger Finally Served with Justice” or “Mentally Unstable Ranger Engages in Suspected Conspiracy“ should any news of the incident reach him. There was a small amount of credibility to be earned should she turn him in. Perhaps she would not have to risk Corran and Falynn’s life on a redemption mission.

Still, the woman could not bring herself to do it.

The PI had simply provided cover fire. He knew how to use the blaster rifle. The man, despite no longer affiliating with the Sector Rangers, had aided them in internal affairs with no benefit to himself. The weapon had been used strictly in self defense. She appreciated his willingness to take the fall, but for once the law didn’t seem to be right. The written code did nothing to address the nuance of his sacrifices. Yet she was sworn to uphold the law. Confusion, fear, and conviction ran like electricity through Bast’s blood. For perhaps the first time, she felt no moral obligation to fulfill her duty by-the-book. The thought scared her, but it was hardly the time to dwell on it or call into question her previous actions. Perhaps she would regret it later, but the woman was unable to hold herself back from her own foolishness. Was it simple, rebellious curiosity? Unlikely, but possible.

“I’m afraid I missed that, Lorcan. I cannot file a caution for something I was not a true witness to.” What the hell was she thinking? Due to the hurry for cover and the speeder, the ranger had never seen Lorcan actually fire. It was a poorly constructed hole because she’d seen him holding the rifle as well as bolts from the weapon, but Bast would do her best to shelter him behind technicalities. The half truth felt abrasively deceptive coming from her mouth.

The discomfort in her decision did not ease when they pulled up to the building. “Copy that.” Words slipped out through clenched teeth. If the woman remembered correctly, her counterpart had been a Lieutenant. That rank commanded respect, whether he was responsible for parts of Outpost Blue or not. Ordering him around made her increasingly uncomfortable, so she phrased the plan as more of a suggestion. “If there is a back entrance, perhaps you could take that. I think the most effective method is to bust in. This man does not seem the type to kindly invite us in for sherry. If not, you could watch my six and back me up. Up front combat is not a speciality of mine.”

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

Huh.

Well he wasn't going to give her much room to regret deciding to give him a pass. He flicked the switch, changing his blaster rifle from lethal shots to stun rounds instead. There was going to be a firefight for sure and he didn't want to be caught shooting people dead when he was supposed to be very carefully monitored when using weaponry of any kind.

The fact that she had given him options spoke both well and ill. It showed that she had not had much command experience but it did show flexibility and an awareness of this same fault. Combined with her acknowledging a failing of her own, he was of the opinion that she was still learning but learning well.

"I'll take the back exit and stay in com-link contact." he decided after a moment, "Will push up from the rear to the right floor and link up with you at the suspect's door."

With a final nod, Lorcan moved off round the back of the apartment complex. His heart was beating faster and faster as the reality of the situation came flooding back to him. He was about to go into combat again, honest to the Force combat. There was a part of him that had been yearning for this since his exit from the Rangers and it sang inside of him now.

Pushing through the back door with his rifle ready and raised, he cleared the area of potential threats (it was as empty as it appeared at the back) before moving up to a maintenance closet. Opening it quickly, he used a series of codes he knew from his days before the Rangers.

"Lifts are now non-functional; I've put them into emergency reset mode. They'll be down for the next hour and then resume usual service."

Which meant none of the people inside them would have any issues aside from mild inconvenience of being an hour late to wherever they were going.

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

The hunt had begun, and it seemed Lorcan was hot on the scent. The man was practically quivering with pent up energy, clearly ready for a fight. A click from his blaster indicated a change of settings to what she could only hope was stun. Had it not been on stun earlier? If he made a mistake, it would cost her, and cost her badly at that. Thank the suns he was being careful now. Discovering Lorcan’s reckless decisions made the woman second guess her own. Surely he couldn’t truly be a danger... yet. It was too late now, anyway.

Drawing her own pistol cautiously, Bast kept the weapon at her hip until her partner left, then extended her arms and began to clear the hall, flashing her Ranger badge at the security recorder mounted on a graffitied duracrete wall. The woman’s tactical boots echoed thunderously on the hard floor. It was too quiet. A small gasp. Bast whirled around to the origin of the sound only to find a young Twi’lek, no older than eight, frozen, eyes wide, scream building in the small throat. Realizing that she was pointing a weapon at the terrified child, Bast grimaced and re-holstered her blaster. Hands extended, the woman attempted to sound reassuring.

“You are okay. I am here to help, alright?” The young girl looked thoroughly unconvinced and began to back away. “What is your name? I will not hurt you. My name is Bast.” Something felt off, but the child had to get inside.

“Reeta,” came the meek reply. She was silent once more, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Reeta, I need you to go home for a bit.”

“But my mommy has the keys.”

“Where is she, Rita?”

“In the lift. We were gonna race to the room and I took the stairs.”

As is on cue, the Ranger’s comm chimed. Rubbing her face in frustration, she sighed. They couldn’t risk Reeta getting caught in crossfire. Generally, Lorcan’s move to disable the lift would be considered good judgement. Now it jeopardizing the mission. Through no fault of his own, the investigator had added a new layer of difficulty to the task.

It was then that the tension broke. A hot red bold streaked by, searing some of the skin on Bast’s face. Throwing herself on top of the child, she took cover. More bolts hit the floor near them. There was little doubt she had found the wanted man. Being a Ranger, he also had the aim of a marksman. Frantically, Bast pressed her comm. “Lorcan. Come in. Get to my location now. He is here and there’s a civilian I have to take care of.”

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

Lorcan had been scaling the stairs when Bast had reported the change in location of their target. Cursing up a storm, he nodded to himself as he started running down the stairs instead, taking them several steps at a time.

He hadn't expected the man to try and make a break for it on the ground floor - honestly Lorcan had hoped they had more time than that and that this wasn't a sign that the rogue Ranger has already gotten the room prepped to explode.

"Inbound."

With that short burst of communication sent over the com-line, he went quiet and focused instead on the fight that was to come.

Because of course it was going to be a fight.

Part of him had always known that Giran wasn't going to come quietly and that very same part of himself had absolutely loved the idea of it. Bursting through the stairwell door on the correct floor, he emerged into the corridor behind where the Nikto was firing on Bast and... was that a child?

Kark.

Rather than risk it turning into a firefight, Lorcan threw his blaster rifle to the wayside and charged. Ducking under a panicked blaster shot just in time, he tackled the Nikto to the ground violently and bodily instead.

The snap and hum of a vibroknife was all the warning he got before Giran was thrusting the thing at him. He screamed as the blade pushed into his lower abdomen but his hands gripped Giran's wrists tightly, holding the blade firmly right where it was as they both continued to struggle.

He headbutted the Nikto in the nose... only to remember only afterward that they didn't have robust noses that could be targetted like humans and other species.

Fantastic.

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

Time was crawling by. Every breath she took seemed to take centuries. The blaster fire had stopped, but Bast heard footsteps approaching. Reeta whimpered from under her, but the woman ignored the child in favor of crouching and forcefully pulling the young Twi’lek behind her. Engaging in fire was much too dangerous with the kid nearby. Another bolt streaked by. Reeta screamed. Well, hopefully that would help Lorcan locate them. Where the kriff was the door? Suddenly the building had become a labyrinth of halls and apartments. In the haze of battle, the detective could not remember whether to turn right or left down the identical rows of rooms.

“Reeta, I’m going to back you up to the intersection, alright? Then you need to run out the door.” Painstakingly slowly, the Sector Ranger stepped backwards, feeling for uneven ground, never taking her eyes off their attacker, who was lining up another shot. Someone appeared in the hallway and tackled the Nikto. Was it her partner? There was no time to look any more closely. Finally, she felt a break in the cold, chipped wall. “Now,” Bast hissed. The small hand did not release her vest. There was no sign of any movement from behind. The girl was once again still in terror. Shaking her head slightly, Bast backed behind a corner. Any more hesitation and they would both be dead. “Go.”

“But-“

“Go.” The woman‘s attire was released. She felt guilty for being so harsh with Reeta, but she couldn’t let her get hurt. A light patter of hurried footfalls sounded, growing more distant.

Sounds of struggle came from the two brawling men as she ran back up the hall, past the newly carbon scored floor. The distance seemed longer than it had before. There was no way it would be safe to shoot with the two men so close and moving erratically. A heart wrenching cry of pain escaped Lorcan’s mouth as his lithe body contorted. A new veil of fury descended visibly upon the man. It was then she got a glimpse of the hilt of a vibroblade. Despite being impaled, he fought like an angry acklay. His choice to rush Giran was little short of heroic. The sacrifice surprised Bast. Lorcan seemed weathered, anxious to fight, and perhaps a bit blunt, not like... whatever he was now.

There was an option to shoot a stun round and hope it hit home, but should it hit the injured man, he would be gravely in danger. He needed to be conscious or she would have no idea how much blood he was losing. Joining the fray by piling atop her coworker, Bast struggled to get him in a chokehold. Dirty hands kept grabbing for her braid and jabbing at her eyes. This was not going to be a clean takedown. She tasted blood. Beating, torturing, kicking, kicking, kicking. Tearing at her shirt, yanking at her hair, pinning her to the ground. No mercy. Pain. No. Bast was not there anymore. Still, the reel played vividly. It was hard to tell which sensations were real. It had been Lorcan’s doing. The man now seriously injured. The one she was fighting for. But it was not his fault- she couldn’t let herself think it was or... who knew what would happen.

The odds were two against one, and all combatants had training. Both she and Lorcan had a disadvantage, her with her disability, and him with his injury. Giran rolled on top up her, crushing her beneath his weight, hands wrapping around her neck. The assailant tightened his grip when she managed to jab a knee in his stomach. She scratched at his fingers, fighting for oxygen. She could only hope Lorcan was doing better.

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

Struggling not to get gutted was hard graft that was for damned sure - Lorcan was certain he hadn't wanted anything more than he currently wanted to avoid having his guts pulled out of him at knife-point. Gripping the wrist of the enemy so tightly that his knuckles were white and the ache went down to his bones themselves, he put everything he had into one simple goal; to stop the knife moving. Already it had done damage and already he knew it had the chance to do serious harm.

He could die here.

He could die grappling a man in a corridor over a knife that was already in his abdomen. Honestly a part of him thought it was quite amusing that for all his work to pull himself up out of his guttershite life, he was probably going to experience the exact same death he would have gotten had he never left the under-levels. But that thought was something for him to grip onto mentally, something for him to exert his will on because he would not let it happen.

Bast jumping into the fray was, from a tactical standpoint, rather dumb for her since hand-to-hand was not going to be her strongest suit ever again. But it also meant that Lorcan could take a moment to get a grip on his knife situation as the nikto they were both fighting turned his attention to the woman. Grunting in pain, Lorcan wanted to take the knife out of his gut and he wanted to ram it repeatedly into the nikto's kidneys from the side.

To shank him over and over and over again until he was leaking blood at such a rate that it would gush out of him with every heartbeat until he died, painfully and slowly. He wanted to take the blade and carve his enemy up until he was begging to die. He wanted to hamstring the man and then set him on fire to leave him to burn to death.

But he saw Giran with his hands around Bast's neck and something inside of him howled in rage... and excitement.

Roaring, he gained Giran's attention and loosened his grip on Bast's neck but immediately delivering an uppercut from behind right into the man's balls. As the Nikto gave a strangled scream, Lorcan struck. Grabbing the side of the alien's head, he thrust his right thumb into the Nikto's right eye, pushing in hard even as he threw his body weight forward to slam the man's head against the wall.

Hard.

Dazed and, at least temporarily, blinded as he was, Nikto could do nothing as Lorcan drew one of Giran's spare vibroknives and held it to his throat. It had taken place in a matter of seconds but he found he both wanted to finish it and not. His hand shook as he seethed in pain and anger as he held the edge of the knife close to the man's vein.

He wanted to, oh how he wanted to.

Spoiler: Dice

Lorcan Fights Dirty

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

Dots were beginning to dance in the woman’s vision and her hands and feet were tingling. Giran’s fingers dig into her skin unrelentingly, hard and insistent, bony. Instinctually, Bast opened her mouth wide to gasp for air. All there was was a compressing pain. Her chest stung with the effort of breathing air that was not there. An involuntary attempt at getting air resulted in a small whistling sound and Bast gagging, a drop of spit landing on her vest. Concentrate on the pain. The woman was on the brink of unconsciousness. Passing out could well be a death sentence for both her and Lorcan. She couldn’t let that happen, yet she was completely prone, helpless.

Through a pounding headache, the Ranger heard a scream of pain, but it felt distance, as if her ears were stuffed with cotton. Suddenly, the pressure on her neck was eased. The first gasp brought another wave of pain. Her throat felt raw as the numbness of near- unconsciousness subsided. Coughing roughly, Bast propped herself up on her elbows and knees, bloodshot eyes searching for her partner.

She made out his fuzzy form just in time to see Lorcan slam Giran’s head against the wall with immense force. The female officer had not even noticed his weight being lifted off of her. It was clear the hostile was loosing the fight as he struggled aimlessly, apparently blinded and otherwise incapacitated. Lorcan was overdoing it. Bast remembered- he no longer had to abide by the same rules of acceptable combat that she did. But this was brutal. A scarlet fluid streaked down the nikto’s head. Out of nowhere, the private investigator had a vibroblade and was holding it up to the man’s neck.

Adrenaline pumped through the detective’s veins again. Her partner was about to murder a suspect. He was a loose cannon, dangerous. Lorcan was posing more of a threat to the case than the man who had tried to kill her. “Hey.” The voice did not sound like Bast’s. A hand drew her blaster pistol and clicked off the safety. It was already set to stun. “With all due respect, get ahold of yourself.” Steadily, she pointed the muzzle at the man she had worked along side. Giran cackled. She threw him a withering look and shifted her aim slightly, knocking him out cold. “Drop the knife or I will have to shoot, Lorcan.” Who had let this man direct a mission?

Cautiously stepping closer, she noticed his hand was shaking. ‘Check my files and you'll see I left for mental health reasons brought on by my own actions while on the job’. The anger melted away almost immediately, replaced by a feeling of strong sympathy. He had still done something exceedingly risky and definitely illegal, but it was likely he did not truly want to let himself. True killers had no remorse. Should he put down the weapon, Bast would extend a hand to help him up. She may not know his demons, but she had her own. “There you go. Let’s load him up,” Her tone was gentle, placating.

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

The knife shook in his hand.

There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted, on a certain but very real level, to slit the throat of the man who had tried to kill him. It sang inside of him that killing someone who had tried to kill him was natural. That the person who had tried to kill him had forfeited his right to live in turn.

It was strange how much that voice sounded exactly like himself - there was no outside influence. Unlike the Force Users, he had to endure the awareness that it was not some mystical Force leading him astray but rather it was something he wanted.

He wanted to do it.

Gritting his teeth, he eyed Bast out of the corner of his eye. The shaking got worse as he had to restrain himself. His breathing was getting shallower, quicker, as he felt a weight settle on his rib-cage. Still his own voice spoke within the confines of his own mind.

He could slash the man's throat before Bast could pull the trigger.

He knew he could.

But instead he dropped the knife off to one side.

Instead of taking her offered hand he pushed himself off of Giran to the left, staggering away from him on his hands and knees. As he half-crawled and half-walked away, his breathing became quicker and shallower still as he struggled with the strap of his blaster pistol holster. His fingers fumbled a few times before he was able to unstrap it and he tossed it away from himself as though it were poison.

He leaned back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat against it instead. Eyes closed, he swallowed thickly and shook his head, muttering to himself.

"... it was too soon... I'm not... I'm not ready... it's still just too easy and so... so... so RIGHT there..." he took a deeper breath finally, "It's always right there..."

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

The knife in his hand clattered loudly to the floor, interrupting the tense silence between the independent agent and the woman. His breathing was fast and labored. Hers was steady, quiet, waiting. Bast narrowly avoided quite a bit of trouble, simply by association. Both former and current Ranger knew the throat could be slit before she could react. It was a strange sort of mercy that Lorcan backed away. Still, she should take him back in binders if protocol was to be followed. The woman waited to pounce, her eyes tracking his shuffling as if he were a wounded animal, both curious and wary. She was no physical match for him, but he had submitted to her orders. What would he do if she told him to stand with hands on the wall and let her cuff him?

But he had been a lieutenant. Unlike Giran, he was not killing simply because people were in his way. There had to be some fragment of good in him. Something feral had been triggered inside Lorcan, and he fought more like an animal than a man. A hand reached for his blaster and immediately, Bast raised her’s level with his chest, but as soon as the PI had a hold on the weapon, he tossed it, clearly afraid of the damage it would do in his hands. Kicking the weapon even farther away, Bast holstered her own and approached him, palms open and extended.

The man looked utterly defeated. Eyes closed, face contorted in shame, he breathed raggedly. The words that escaped Lorcan’s lips were raw and barely coherent, but Bast listened, seating herself down opposite him. She would not take him to Crossguard Heights Station. Where should the male detective be taken? He appeared to be having a breakdown of sorts. Bast had only ever been on the experiencing end, and she felt helpless to watch. So, the woman sat and waited, finally croaking out a few words when he finally looked her directly in the eye.

“You and I both want justice. We both serve justice. But justice can not be decided from one individual’s skewed perspective. Can you tell me what in the galaxy just happened?”

@Nefieslab

 

[Lorcan]

He was slumped and he honestly couldn't find it in himself to really do anything about it.

Instead he let out a sigh and let his hands fall away from his face, opening his eyes tiredly to stare at Bast. There was still something in his mind, the lizard part, that demanded he make a break for it. It was the part of himself that he often listened to but after the adrenaline was gone he just couldn't find the energy within himself to do anything. He didn't fight the urges because he knew he didn't have the energy to act on them anyway.

He was a puppet with his strings cut.

"I relapsed." He hedged with a small wave of his hand, "Back when I was on the Ranger payroll I was... how to put this..."

Off to the side Giran laughed.

It was a weak sound after the damage that had been done to him but he was alive and he was awake.

"Lorcan was the Ranger's butcher, Emblai." he called out darkly, "You wanted a group of pirates to dead cus the local law wouldn't imprisoned them? You sent in this karker. He'd get shot at with lethal force and he'd respond with it after trying to de-escalate. Except it got a little bit karked up didn't it, buddy?"

Lorcan couldn't even begin to be bothered to level a glare at the other disgraced Ranger.

"He's a piece of shite but he's not too wrong." he admitted after a long minute, "I only got missions against people who were likely to resist arrest to the death. That's something that can sometimes happen but me? It was all of them. After so long I... I stopped firing stun blasts first... then I stopped trying to arrest them altogether. They shot to kill, they refused to accept surrender - so I get to the point that I didn't either."

He looked at his hands for a moment.

"Every shot I fired I filed and waited for discipline... never got it. Every kill was deemed 'necessary in the face of extreme peril and threat to life'."

Giran snorted.

"Then he got soft and left."

Lorcan shrugged limply.

"Guess so."

When he started to seriously realize that he was beginning to think of everything in terms of lethality he had paused. He grimaced.

"First time I caught myself thinking of shooting a pickpocket with a blaster bolt in the leg I knew something had broken so I walked out. Trying to get help but, hey, shrinks are expensive."

He held up both hands towards her - if she slapped restraints on him he'd accept it. Lorcan was just... too tired to do anything else.

@Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

So that was what had happened. A return to instinct. A relapse. A pull so strong the highly trained man could not resist. Bast contemplated his words in silence. She had known there was a darker side to the Rangers, but this was new information. This was not justice. Neither were the bribery and debauchery that hid in the institution of law, but this had been authorized. This man was the reason she had almost died, humiliated and stripped of all power, lying broken on the ground, helpless to resist, forced to comply. His ‘shoot first, think later’ tactic had cost her almost everything. But it was difficult to me upset at the hurting man in front of her. A harsh word might shatter him.

Giran decided to contribute, much to Bast’s chagrin. She needed a gag. A withering look sent his way quieted the man a bit. Bast didn’t want hear what he was saying because it seemed to be true. Even the part about shrinks. They were certainly not cheap. That was the reason she told herself she was not seeing one. The Corellia woman had but one set of binders, and it wasn’t Lorcan who needed them. A gentle hand lowered his and she slipped a credit chip into one of the open palms. “I can take it from here. Get yourself a ride back. I... hope to see you again soon” Just not like this. “Take care.“

@Nefieslab