| Zedd | Date: Thursday, 16 Apr 2015, 3:15 PM | Message # 1 |
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| Ten minutes to midnight, and I could barely walk. Six months here on Kalla VII; training fresh, pimple-faced, mostly human rookies in the finer nuances of life as a Detective. An honour, that's what the CoD -- that is Chief of Detectives, back on Coruscant -- had told me. What he really meant, or, at least what I read from behind his blood shot eyes, and that fodder feasting grin, that had seemed to curl repulsively over his coffee-stained, yellow teeth. Was that this was yet another exile to the Outer-Rim.
As if being a Lepi, wasn't punishment enough; punch line to a billion million crackerjack jokes. It wasn't as if I had purposely aimed that projectile vomit to spew like a steamy mauve shower down the front of his uniform and over his obsessively polished shoes, he was merely a victim of happenstance. Yet here I was. Day in, day out, wiping snot from trainee noses -- I suppose, in honest consideration. The New Republic was equally to blame for my current situation. It was they, after all, that dissolved the Sector Rangers, and necessitated the need for individuals such as myself from the Coruscant Security Force, even guys from the Corellian Security Force. To step in and train up those patriotic few that wanted to ensure the safety and proper handling of crime on their home worlds.
My staggered, swaying, stride paused for a moment as I brought a bottle to my mouth. The glass was glazed with orange graffiti, and bore some meaningless name. Yet another product of unfathomably massive Ossk Industries. I slurped loudly, unsparingly, one, two, three, four. . . five gulps of the contents. A liquid that was thick as syrup, and it's mind numbing alcohol was hidden somewhere on the bottom layer of it's infinitely sweet, unmistakeably artificial, Maroj Melon flavour. Just the type of drink that would make the clothes effortlessly walk off the little human girls of Kalla University.
Her hair had been dyed neon red, her skin as white as Hoth snow. She loved my ears, and fur. Kept kissing my cute little durni nose, scratching beneath my chin. Dimensionally she was a lustful oddity of nature. Flat chested, slim waist, massive hind quarters. After we had gotten back to her place in town, I could have sworn, as she swayed and shimmied before me. That I was a mere Ewok, and my eyes were worshiping the Death Star that loomed in the sky.
Then I remembered just whom I was, Zedd, Detective 1st Class. Warden of the weird, steward of strange, among many other mockingly bad titles my peers had assigned to me over my thirty-plus years on the job. Even in my drunken stupor the clarity of the revelation made this young girls antics par for the course. She was a bad girl, and needed to contract up with the Hutts, I guess it was her fantasy. Told me service the rear entry, and speak Huttese to her -- Achute, my pee kasa, I kept repeating as I thumped wildly behind her planet-sized posterior. It meant simply: Hello, my name is. I guess she didn't know, judging by the delighted squeals each syllable rode out of her. Satisfied as I was, I just wanted to get out of there before I had to offer her to some phantom Rancor.
I did just that, first chance I got.
I choked down the last few mouthfuls of alcohol, teeth vibrating in horror to their very roots, from the sugary beverage. The bottle fell from my hand, hollowly clanking on the cracked duracrete and pebble dust of this lonely road outside town. Dazed, and vision blurred, I could barely make out the intense golden glow of the Braddlebork Motel. Strange, considering I was only what could be estimated as seven hundred paces from it's meager doorstep.
Dragging my comically large, Lepi feet along the ground, I carried on a few more strides. Before suddenly I heaved forward, gloved palms grabbing my knees, ears flopping wildly. What came from inside my body could only be described as a hiccup that somehow transformed in to a wet belch, followed by a meaty splash of stomach fluid on the ground.
"F - allen Emperor, no!" I gurgled pathetically, "No! Arrrghhlhlhhhllll. . . " The stuttering fountain spewed from me by the bucket full, then darkness.
I stirred back some time later, what time, I wouldn't be able to rightly determine. As I lay, body afloat in my own retch and urine, I pulled my blue sleeved arm over the moist ground to examine my wrist Chrono. Unfortunately the screen was cracked, and device useless. Likely a victim of my fall to the duracrete.
"Perfect, " I groaned miserably, at least it wasn't a total disaster though. I could have awoken sober. Not that I would have stayed that way very long, in my experience, I performed my best work thoroughly lubricated -- on the job, that was.
Rising from the ground I took a moment to steady my legs, and attempted to brush the dust off my Coruscant blue flight suit -- which had formed in to a grimy mud from the misadventures of my inner liquids -- however I quickly noticed that the pungent odour releasing filth that painted me, merely smeared further over the fabric with every brush I lobbed against it. No matter, I thought, as I heaved my heavy feet over the ground and carried on.
I'd made this walk a thousand times since I'd arrived on Planet months back, but tonight, tonight it seemed to take an aeon to finally make the turn in to the Motel parking square. I'd spent most of my life living in places just like this, Motels. You could call me a connoisseur, of sorts. Not by choice, mind you. I'd left Coachelle Prime when I was eleven, my special little bunny, and her unnaturally herculean womb pillaged me in a way few others could ever understand. My species were quick breeders, but her, she took it to a whole new level. Eighteen little Lepi on her first go, less than a year later she walloped me with another twenty-three. I dare you to try and help raise that many kids, go on.
Braddlebork wasn't terrible, you could say. Tiny place, for sure. Eight rooms, excluding the office, set in a neat, small, L-pattern. They were stacked on top of each other, which made it seem even smaller to me, and likely everyone else. The sign was plain, not flashy. White with Braddlebork Motel illuminated in gold as bright as the daytime sun. The red brick walls of the unit space had dark forest green doors, and soft amber lighting units ever vigil in even spacing between each room.
As I reeled further in to the parking space, body heavy, and drooping. I knew if I didn't ask for a wake-up call, I'd be comatose all day. As the distance between myself and the office shrunk, I could hear a stannic buzz of a HoloViewer well past it's prime. The repetitious strum of some strange organ like synthesizer that would occasionally hush to a whisper under the articulation of an overly theatrical voice.
"An astonishing glimpse in to the dark world of the Occult and Supernatural!" The crackling voice coaxed, "Saladyyn Solomon!"
I loomed in to the open doorway, left shoulder thudding loudly against the frame. By the time my large eyes managed to come in to focus on the white, bloodstained sheet covering what I instantly knew to be the Rodian manager of this establishment. A shrill scream bellowed out at me, and the HoloViewer quickly powered down with a sigh.
"It's been six hours, where have you been?!" A tall, skinny, blonde haired kid questioned with haste. Stepping towards me, only to quickly cover his nose in disgust and jump back once he caught whiff of my scent. "What happened?"
"Did you make it to town????" The question came from another, this boy much shorter than the first. His hair dark black, and clothes obnoxiously flamboyant in colour.
"Back up! No one move!!" I stammered, undoubtedly looking and sounding like a fool as I wobbled in to the room, drawing my blaster from the holster on my belt.
"Hey, man. . . what are you doing?" The girl that screamed suddenly found her voice again.
"You all think 'cause you're some Outer-Rim University brats, you can just kill someone? Was it because he was Rod--n?" Hate Crime, it was the first thought that came in to my head. Humans had been getting off on killing Aliens, and for a long time they were getting away with it under the rule of the Empire.
"He doesn't know, " A third, and final male voice registered behind me. By the time I drunkenly managed to begin turning towards the sound, I felt a solid fist strike me hard across the cheek from over my shoulder. Two of my puke encrusted whiskers snapped, I was falling forward in to the Office of Braddlebork Motel, when I hit the ground; I was sleeping once more.
"You can't just hit a cop, Leth, are you insane?!" The words were fuzzy, but I recognized them from the first kid that had spoken. His name was Aaryn.
"Excuse me, but this whole damned night has been insane, and I don't trust him!" That was Leth that spoke, the clown that hit me.
"We're all a little rattled, nothing to lose our minds over. Let's just explain what happened." Jayden, whom was the boyfriend of Lisaa begged. I had managed to deduce their identities moments earlier before my clarity had fully began to return.
"Jay, how do you think he would handle that? You saw what he was like before, you know him!" Leth shouted.
"I don't know any of you hairless apes." I suddenly growled, voice even more rough and husky than usual. Slowly I opened my large eyes, the lamp light beside the bed they had laid me on after binding my wrists and ankles casting an awkward halo over my vision.
"Oh, hairless ape?! How about a carrot Mr. Bunnyman, huh?!" Leth howled at me, storming towards the bed, my blaster in his right hand lofted over his shoulder as if he were about to bludgeon my skull in to a thousand pieces.
"DUDE!" Aaryn roared with equal intensity, muscling Leth up against the wall with a violent, hollow, thud before he could strike me. "That's Zedd, bro, what is wrong with you?! You're friends!"
"What?!" Leth moaned, paranoia suddenly grasping at every inch of his face. "Back up, BACK UP!" He protested, shouldering Aaryn roughly before enough space had been created that he was able to swing my blaster around and take aim on the taller boy. He hastily began to feel his way around the bed, then towards the door. Warding off Aaryn and Jayden with a trembling blaster.
"Leth?" Jayden asked cautiously.
"Just stay back!" Leth yelled, his face red, and profusely sweating. Visibly shaken to his core.
"Calm down, Leth. Everything is cool, man." Aaryn tried to comfort.
"No. . . no it isn't! I should have never let you people talk me in to coming here!" He cried.
For the time, I could do nothing but watch on in complete confusion. Just what I had stumbled in upon this night seemed entirely deeper than what was on the surface. Although, it seemed unthinkingly familiar. I'd had these types of breakdowns before. Drugs. That had to be the answer here.
"But, bro." Jayden began slowly, looking over towards Aaryn with wide eyes for several moments before he returned his gaze to Leth. "This trip was your idea. . . "
My Blaster fell from Leth's hand, his mouth agape in confusion. Terror and stress buried so deep in his eyes I feared for a moment his heart would burst inside his chest. He looked over at me, I stared back. No shame, despite being covered in the filth of my own excess. Then he looked at Jayden, Aaryn, and finally Lisaa. Before, quite suddenly, he howled wildly in the night and took off out of the room completely.
"No! Leth! We have to stick together!" Aaryn bellowed after him, giving chase. Jayden hot on his heels.
Lisaa had ran to the door, shouting something I couldn't make out as my mind swam in bewilderment. "What in Sith's name is going on here, man?!" I coarsely found myself asking. For a split moment I half thought maybe I was still unconscious out on the duracrete, drowning in that puddle of my vomit.
Lisaa looked back at me, then out the door once more crossing her arms over her chest before she came nimbly towards the bed and unbound me. "Before I even think of getting in to that, go shower, you smell like Maroj Melon. . . and puke."
How astute of her, I thought to myself as I kicked up from the bed and stood. Quickly I retrieved my Blaster, fully expecting her to protest, but to my surprise she didn't say a word. Instead she remained seated at the edge of the bed, gazing up at me.
"I expect answers when I'm done, understand? You try and run off after your friends, just know, there is no place in this Galaxy you will be able to hide in."
"I won't go out there until morning, don't worry." She replied innocently.
The warm water felt nice, though the lack of pressure left much to be desired. My head was beginning to clear, and already I was starting to yearn for something more. The night was yet young, and now I had a murder to solve. University kids, xenophobia, drug-induced paranoia, felt just like Coruscant. This marked the first time I was actually glad to be here on this quiet prison sentence. I may even request extension, if I wasn't able to solve this beast in the week I had left.
"You still here?" I questioned with authority, emerging from the refresher with a towel strung tightly around my waist, and steam at my back.
"Mhmm" She replied calmly, her lips pressed to the glass ring of a tall water bong; clearing the decorative tube of smoke as she deeply inhaled and removed the bowl. "Hmm?" She throated, motioning the smoking device towards me; bowl in one hand, bong the other.
"Uh. . . yeah." I said almost instantly, never one to turn down any type of party favour. "Groovy" I rasped deeply. Retrieving what she was offering as she began to cough -- small wisps of smoke escaping her lips and nose.
Eying the bowl, I insured myself that there was enough left to provide a decent hit. Never knew what the kids out here were smoking. And in my experience some spice, or wacky concoctions would burn up in a single pull. This, however, was not one of those cases. The contents of the bowl were blacker than the tar that stained its glass, and blue leaf still resided at the very bottom. I waved it twice affront my Lepi nose, snorting in the burnt scent. There were quite literally millions of variations in what it could be, but one stuck out prominently.
"Jubilaran?" I inquired, it would make sense given the situation tonight. Jubilar was home to a number of mind-altering drugs. Most of them provided a joyride of delirium that had driven many individuals to murder before -- just look at the comically post-apocalyptic, unnecessarily violent culture that had resided there since the Expansionist Era some twenty-five thousand years ago.
"I don't know, " Lisaa replied blankly a mask of disassociation blanketing her features as the blend began to work it's magic. "It's yours."
"No, " I said in reply, glancing towards the door. From the looks of things we were in Room 1, my Room was number 5, just above this one. "Torch me, doll."
Stem back in the Bong, she took the lighter and ignited a neon red flame; burning the contents of the bowl as I breathed the smoke in deeply. Bitter, with a taste that somehow reminded me of either a cinnamon muffin. . . or what I imagined a freshly opened bottle of tennis balls would taste like given their distinct smell. It was definitely a Jubilaran medley of some sort.
"Now, " I began, gasping in repeated breaths, purposefully making sure I was drowning my lungs with as much smoke for as long as possible. "I want you to run me through everything that's happened, understand? Hhhgffffff. . . " I managed to choke out before releasing a fog of smoke from my lungs that could have coated an entire coastal town.
As I turned and walked towards the long mirror-backed dresser. I watched her reflection look towards me, then to the open door. She stood, and for the first time I gazed upon her in full detail. Deja vu struck, flat chested, slim waist, massive rear. Perhaps Coruscant just wasn't the place I should be living, I thought, shaking the familiar feeling from my brain.
"It'll sound crazy. . . " Lisaa whispered, striding quickly towards the door. Hurriedly she leaned her head outside and peered left, then right before slamming the green barrier shut and latching the lock.
"Believe me, I can handle crazy." Turning away from the mirror, I brushed a palm over my soft, furry chest. And leaned my towel curtained hip against the dresser.
Resting against the door, nervously gnawing at her lower lip she merely stared. Stared for what seemed like an hour, before finally she began to speak again. "You heard about the Celestial Event tonight, right? It was all the big rage, everyone has been talking about it. Happens once every. . . I don't know, few thousand years?"
"Uh. . . I. . " She already lost me.
"The Comet, CG-02-00029z, the Kalla VII Meteor Shower, the Black Moon, and the Planetary Alignment all happened tonight. It hasn't happened since like, two thousand years ago"
"So what, you guys wanted to get a little high, wanted to kill some Alien, sacrifice him?" I questioned, squinting menacingly at her. Luckily my equilibrium was back now that the drugs were in my system.
"What? We're not Cultists. . . we're students at the University." She retorted, hiding a drugged out giggle behind her palm. "This is your room." She finished, after gaining control.
"I told you it's not. I'm in unit 5, just above this."
"Exactly." She smiled.
Exhaling slowly, I strode towards the girl holding my towel tight around my waist with my right hand. As soon as I was close enough, I thundered my left hand violently against the door behind her. She jumped, and put both of her palms on my chest pushing carefully.
"I'm getting sick of this game, understand?!"
"It's not a game, let me finish." She squeaked. Skirting under my arm and around my side. "I don't know if the Celestial Event is the key, but I do know, Scientifically this is explainable. To a degree."
"Murder?"
"It's complicated."
"Try me, " I growled, turning towards her again.
"He killed himself, sort of." She said, lowering her eyes to the floor.
I instantly softened, maybe it was the euphoric wave from the smoke that clawed it's way past all of my defences and soothed my soul. ". . . Suicide? "
"You should sit." Lisaa hastily said, lunging towards me gracefully, she clutched both of my wrists and danced me towards the edge of the bed. Taking two steps backwards, she nodded, silently reaffirming herself. Then with a deep breath she began to speak.
On and on she went throwing out mathematical phrases, words and equations that I had never even known existed. Physics this, Quantum that, Paradox, Many-Worlds. . . I'd needed another three hits of that fine, soothing Spice blend by the time she managed to finish. She laughed at my unsurprising response.
"Ok, what?"
"Argh!" She growled playfully, smoke billowing from behind her lips as she handed the Bong back to me for repacking. "Ok, so, regular, run-of-the-mill Physics will tell you when you make a choice that that is it. It is one or the other. Plain. Simple. Sweet. But in a number of Quantum Physic principles it is seen to be the Opposite, or at least there is a wide school of belief in the Opposite. When you make a choice there is in fact a Collapse. But instead of that being the end, one or the other. It is both. The Collapse merely acts as a means of keeping them decoherent from each other. Separate realities. Here you went left, there you went right, somewhere else maybe you turned around. Quantum Decoherence merely ensures that you have no interaction with the other outcomes once the process has occurred."
"That's heavy." I said, trying to mask my skepticism. "Sounds a lot like drug-induced Delirium."
"We all met at the Lazy Laroon three months ago. After training we all drink until last call. Mr. Braddlebrok picks us up every day. You're a retired Lieutenant-Inspector for the Coruscant Security Force, you've been instructing our local PD since the phasing out of the Sector Rangers. Braddlebrok came to pick us up tonight, we were going to party here during the Event. No one for a long time will see something like this again. We drove through that black void. When we arrived Mr. Braddlebrok went to get the Swipecard for Room 1, you'd forgotten yours, we heard him yell, then we heard a Blaster shot. He took off in to the dark. We didn't know what was going on, we were all scared. We started tossing out theories. You started getting very livid, you said you'd kill anyone that tried to claim they were us. Strange things started happening, doors were opening. slamming. We could see the silhouettes but never make out whom they belonged to. After a while you said you were going to make your way in to town, see just what by Empire was going on. Six hours later, you came back. Only. . . you've never worn a Blue CSF Flightsuit before."
"What are you saying?" I questioned, staring her down like she had just sprung an extra thirty heads.
"I'm saying I don't think you belong here."
"Or, if there is any truth in what you're saying. Perhaps. . . you. . don't belong here." I retorted.
She began to step closer towards me, I stood, eying her over thoughtfully. "I don't think they're ever going to come back." She whispered.
I truly was hoping this girl was not the type that smoked up, then started to cry. Elaborate and as wonderful as her story was. I still wasn't entirely sold on the premise. As she drew closer, something happened. We both heard it, we both felt it. There was a scrape of pebble dust outside the door, someone was standing there. I glanced across the painfully plain room, my Blaster was no where in sight. Bathroom! That's right.
"Jay, Aaryn. . . Leth?" She cycled through the names before I could seize her mouth.
A brilliant bolt of red energy whined through the door as if it were paper, diving in to the carpet where it left a black, searing scorch mark. "Get back, kid!" I yelled, grabbing Lisaa by the waist. With ease I lobbed her over the bed, she bounced off the mattress and landed on the floor with a thud, her legs kicking the nightstand, knocking the lamp over; it's energy-saving bulb shattering with a snap and hiss. Leaving the room in relative darkness, save for the glow of the outside sign and lights through the sides of the drawn shades and fresh hole in the door.
Blaster bolts began to fleet through the room one after another, chewing the door and wall to shreds. Perhaps it had been the drugs I smoked, but I uncaringly bound towards the bathroom. Red devils wheezing by so close to me I could feel their blistering heat.
"Where are you?!" I heard a familiar rasp bellow as I slid on my knees over the cheap cost-efficient linoleum.
My momentum brought me face first in to the wall, I gasped. Grabbing the window frame above me, and palming my weight on the edge of the toilet seat to my right. Back up on my feet, I pivoted, lunged for the blaster resting in the empty sink basin. Before I could even see the assailant enter the door frame, I had approximated his position on the wall from his aggressively heavy footsteps. I squeezed twice, two bolts zipped through the plaster. I heard the carpet padded plop of his weapon hit the floor, and a sharp cry of pain.
"Gotcha, " I mocked triumphantly as I began my travel out of the bathroom, towel discarded somewhere in the ruckus. There in the stark I emerged, searching for my prey. He'd already retreated out of the room, I began to follow but Lisaa jumped up from where I'd thrown her.
"No!" She barked, "Don't go out there. . . you may not come back."
"I have to, " I answered, pausing at the doorway.
"NO! Wait until morning." She insisted, grabbing my shoulder. Forcefully she turned me towards her, her opposite hand grasping an appendage below my waist.
Who was I to refuse such an obvious gesture.
By the time morning had came, I couldn't even begin to calculate how many times I had. Lisaa was something special, could never say no to tail like hers. Not even that bone-chilling sense of deja vu could unsettle that ride.
Upon waking, I'd pulled a white, fluffy robe down out of the closet and examined the carnage in Room 1. The shootout, brief as it'd been. Definitely occurred. Tying the front together, I stepped out into the morning sunlight. Looking around for anything, everything. I strode cautiously towards the Office. Pushed the door open and peered in, amazement quickly creasing my furry face.
"Braddlebork. . . " I said slowly, quickly remembering that I had never in fact examined just who was under the sheet.
The old Rodian looked up at me, bug eyes glassy, and complexion somewhere between fresh fly maggot and cigarette ash that had been flicked in to a ninety year old ashtray then re-smoked with spice crystals out of an Old Republic Era pipe.
"Anything strange happen last night?" I questioned casually, he just stared, likely furious over the damage to his unit. "I'll work out a way to fix up number 1 for you, don't make a big deal out of it."
Silently I abandoned the Rodian to his thoughts, crept back in to Room 1 and retrieved my Swipecard from the reeking Flightsuit I'd worn the night before. Just as I had thought, all of my things were just where they were supposed to be in Room 5. Quick shower, and I was dressed. On the bedside stand I retrieved a half finished fifth of Corellian Single Barrel Whisky, gulped it down greedily then scribbled a quick letter to Lisaa, whom I imagined was the true renter of Room 1. So really, there was no need to wake her.
Work, as usual, was uneventful. On Coruscant, at any given time, one hundred. . . one thousand cases needed to be solved. But just as my buzz was growing larger with every spiked coffee I swallowed down. A call came in. Murder. First case of it since I'd arrived here, to say I wasn't excited would be a lie. Convinced the night before had boiled down to little more than a wild haze of events spurred on by drug-induced hallucinations I thought nothing of it.
"Girl's name is Lisaa Fayn. Wild girl, she likes to skulk around the Lazy Laroon, pick up Fringers and other unsavories while they're resupplying." One of my boys informed me, funny, he looked suspiciously like Leth.
I examined him more closely as I entered the domicile, taking his notes from him silently.
"Get up to anything strange last night?" I asked casually.
"Me? No. I'm not quite there yet, Sir." He replied.
I stopped, I could see the girls feet through the next door. But from this angle the rest of her was hidden. "What do you mean?"
"You know. . . all you grizzled Coruscant Old Timers. . stories for days."
"Ah, yeah." I agreed with a laugh, then turned in to the room. Examining her with scrutiny as I inhaled a deep, deep breath. Neon red hair, flat chested, slim waist. . . and that shapely backside. She was shot twice it appeared. Just left of centre mass, and the right side of her abdomen.
Zedd, Detective 1st Class, Coruscant Security Force. Like many times before I found myself asking. Just what exactly happened last night?
Message edited by Zedd - Thursday, 16 Apr 2015, 3:24 PM |
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