OOC: If you want to be a part of this, then drop me a line at DocMing on AIM.

IC:

“...Now that’s a frag-load of blood,” Duran commented, shifting his gaze purposefully away from the largest crimson stain adorning a wall. “Who the frell d’you reckon did this?”

“I...don’t know,” was all Goodun could say, his light moustache whispering softly in the wind that now blew through the Coruscant high-scale apartment. “Whoever it was, they sure didn’t mind getting messy themselves.”

“Pro’ly some psych. Big guy, I reckons...” Jordan trailed off as he open on of the doors, and moved cautiously into the adjacent refresher unit. “Frell, dere even more in ‘ere!” Jordan’s massive frame almost eclipsed the refresher from sight, but it was evident by the minute scarlet flood now washing about his feet that his statement was correct.

“C’mon, c’mon, get outta my way there, Jord,” Goodun pushed bodily past his subordinate, but quickly back-stepped out of the unit, hand over his mouth and bent double trying his mightiest not to vomit.

“Holy frell!” Exclaimed Duran, his boyish features contorted as he ducked under Jordan’s arm for a better view of the carnage. “I take that back, boss. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> the frell was this? No mortal creature I’ve ever seen could’ve worked up the nerve to do that!”

“You haven’t been doing this long, have you?” Goodun asked him, returning with a towel at his mouth. “The kinda criminals we get here can do a lot worse, mind you.”

“Not dat much worse, dere boss...” Jordan moved inside, and began to inspect the lavish unit, searching for any stand-out evidence.

The apartment truly was a mess, though. One of the highest blocks to dress the Coruscant skyline, the advertising boasted. It wasn’t much now, though. Coruscant security had been dropped an anonymous tip several hours before, indicating a murder in the Skyhighline apartments. Dispatching a small team, they hadn’t expected to find much but a dead end.

Needless to say, their expectations were greatly surpassed.

Upon checking, team-leader Goodun had verified that the apartment previously belonged to a Doctor Chun’trak, Twi’lekan geneticist working from the planet Talus in the Correlian sector. It was a surprise to find him owning an apartment here, of all places, especially since his security personality file, which Duran had managed to obtain, had noted him as a quiet, keeping to yourself sort of person who didn’t like large crowds of other sentients.

Jordan cursed lightly as he accidentally bumped into a table, causing entrails to fall about his feet with a sickening <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> thwuck<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. Duran looked up, his face turning slightly green.

“...Hey boss, I’m gonna...I’m gonna go call in a cleanup crew, alright?” Duran asked, nervously backing away from what looked suspiciously like a lekku.

“OK...have them bring a mop!” Goodun joked, vainly attempting to lighten the mood.

“Dat not so funny, boss,” Jordan commented, removing the blood from his boot as best he could by wiping it on the floor.

“All right. I’ll, I’ll just be a minute...” Duran’s voice trained off as he fled the scene at a sensible pace, trying not to look scared in the face of his new superior. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken this job...I <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> knew<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> it...” he muttered to himself, as he removed his body as far a possible from the crime scene, searching desperately for a toilet as his face grew steadily greener.

He found what he was looking for in a short time, and was about to push through the door when a high pitched scream, abruptly cut off, rang through the building. A short burst of blaster fire followed, but that too was quickly silenced. Suddenly panting heavily, Duran took out his comm., abandoning any frail hope of vomiting in peace.

“Coruscant security, this is Lieutenant Duran, team 1739-delta requesting immediate backup, over,” his breath hissed over the comm. as he ran as stealthily as possible back to the apartment.

“Roger that Lieutenant. Help is on the way, out,” and with a bleep the short-lived conversation ended, leaving Duran on his own in the corridor. He had reached the apartment where Goodun and Jordan had been, and was ducked just outside the door, trying not to breath too heavily.

From inside, he could hear a faint gurgling sound, and a gracious <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> tap, tap<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> of what he could only guess was boots on the tiled floor.

He gulped then, making up his mind on the best course of action. The backup would take a few moments more to arrive, but from the sound of those shots, it would be too late. Un-holstering his blaster, he checked that it was loaded with a full power pack, and made sure that the safety was off. If whatever had killed the doctor and his friends had come back, he didn’t want to take any chances.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Or perhaps it never left...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He dismissed the thought quickly, not wanting to think about it.

Taking in a short breath of air, he got up, rounded the corner, and screamed.

----------

When the backup did arrive, several minutes later, they found a scene much like the one Goodun and his team had walked in on. Goodun and Jordan had both been gutted, rather hastily, and Duran had a small knife, Jordan’s, buried in his chest, but was surprisingly still alive, though unconscious.

The transparisteel window had been shot, also, and there were claw marks on the outside of the building.

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Seven months later<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

“Get outta’ my way! Outta’ my way!” A man screamed, as he ran headlong down the crowded Coruscant street. He held a blaster in his hand, and wore the rank of a corporal in the Coruscant Security force proudly, on a rank slide on his shoulder. The two golden bars there now, however, had a thin coating of some sort of oily residue, and were stained so that what they indicated could not be seen.

“Get back here Talus!” He yelled ahead of him into the night. The street still had a fair amount of foot traffic, but it was mainly off to the sides, away from the centre where the corporal was running.

“Get back here, and finish what you started!” He yelled again into what seemed to be an eternal darkness before him. His feet hurt, and he wished he could stop, but he knew he couldn’t.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> There is no way I’m letting you escape again...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

His mind was set, and he didn’t stop running. The street was getting rapidly deserted on either side of him now, as he moved further and further away from the habitable sections, and the path began to slope downward.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Oh god, not here. He wouldn’t have gone down here... would he?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The man looked on in front of him, and slowed his sprint first to a jog, then a fast but weary walk, before he stopped altogether when faced with a dead end. The road simply stopped, and dropped off into the dark abyss below, that was the darker side of Coruscant.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> No, no... not down there... he didn’t go. He wouldn’t have...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Doubt strained the corporal’s mind, as he contemplated his options, and the options his quarry had from here on in. On the one side was him, and his obvious limitations, and on the other was Talus, and his more than obvious ability to do things that other creatures wouldn’t even consider.

He looked around sullenly, not wanting to give up the chase, one of the most perfect opportunities he had been given to catch his prey for months, but ready to admit defeat all the same. There was no stand out way for Talus to have escaped, at least none visible in the gloom that now surrounded the corporal.

He started searching with his eyes, always keeping his blaster pointed just ahead in case something tried to jump him. He paced slowly to the edge, and then up and down it, looking for an answer.

Unexpectedly, he walked right into it. Tripping, the corporal was only just able to catch himself before he fell.

“Son of a...” and then a wry smile crossed his face, as he looked down at the grapple attached firmly to the permacrete. It was quickly replaced by a look of despair, though.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> If I go down there, I’ll be going into his world, into his domain... I wouldn’t stand a chance.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He stood debating his options for a while longer. He now had a means for following Talus, but he knew it would spell almost certain death on his part... something that he didn’t want to risk.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> But that’s probably what he’s thinking right now... that’s what he wants me to do, just walk away...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Suddenly, he made up his mind.

Stepping out, he grasped the rope firmly in one hand, keeping the blaster trained downwards with the other. There was only one thing for it, he knew, so he stepped out and started climbing down.

The climb was uneventful, and the corporal found no use for his blaster on the way down. There were shadows moving all about him, though, and he knew that any one of them could be Talus, just waiting for him to reach the bottom of the rope.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Oh, you have got to be kidding me.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

As he lowered himself, he started to see a slight glimmer of red off to his left side. He twisted on the rope, moving so that he could get a better look.

It was a pool, seemingly, of glowing red liquid. He found himself moving ever closer to it, as well, as the rope he was on was diverted from its original path by an intricate series of metal rods sticking out from the surrounding buildings at odd angles and having the rope wound around them.

He found himself now dangerously close to what could easily be molten metal, and his fears were confirmed when the rope made one final course change, and then itself came to a stop several metres above the pool.

“Hello Duran, I was wondering when you’d join me,” a cold, unforgiving metallic voice rang out through the darkness, seeming to come from all directions at once.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> He’s probably hooked his translator up to a speaker system, so I can’t get a lock on his position... damn!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

A few seconds passed, but Duran wasn’t stupid enough to try and escape. Talus treated him differently than his other victims, true. Usually Talus just killed people, not bothering to talk to them, let alone introduce himself, as he had done to Duran. And he’d let Duran live all these months, when he was sure he could have killed him a thousand times over, if he had wanted to.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> No, he’s been toying with me all this time. Just waiting for the right time to kill me...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“Well, aren’t you going to say hello?” The underlying sound of Talus’ real, snake-like voice could distinctly be heard now, behind the computerised translator. He must have turned the volume up on the speakers, but that would mean he’d have to be transmitting from a mic., not directly from the translator. Interesting information, but not all that necessary at this time.

“Hello,” Duran muttered, trying to face all directions at once so as not to upset the person who held his life so easily on a string. Literally.

“There, now the introductions are over... would you like to die now?” The toneless computerised voice held no emotion, but Duran could distinctly hear the underlying mockery that came with the question.

“No, not me. You,” Duran made his voice sound confident, although he felt exactly the opposite. Seven months of dealing with Talus had never actually prepared him for the time at which they met and spoke, which were rare.

“Oh, come on, Duran, you’ve got to understand what’s happening here,” If the voice had had emotion, it would be taunting him now.

“I understand what’s happening perfectly, Talus. I’m going to get down, and kill you, and go home, that’s what.”

“No and no to the last two. However...” a dark shape stepped out of the darkness in front of Duran. It’s bald, scaly head was lit from the front, revealing small, yellow eyes and stubby but obviously sharp teeth, which were flanked on either side of the head by two small holed representing teeth. Talus smiled, his skin stretching slightly. There was a small cylinder in his hand, which he threw forward into the molten pit.

“...If you want to get down, that can be arranged,” His voice no-longer echoed around the place, and came obviously from a small patch on his neck.

“No, I think I can get myself down, thanks,” Duran put on a fake smile, pretending to take the offer lightly. In the pit of his stomach, though, he knew that this would be the final showdown, and that one of them wouldn’t walk away from this pit tonight.

“Oh, come on, you look like you could really use some help up there,” Talus grinned, revelling in his fun and sucking as much personal satisfaction from it as he could.

Talus then reached one of his scaly, long-clawed hands into his robes, and withdrew a shining silver piece of metal.

“I’ve been saving this, you know...” Talus said, looking at the blade thoughtfully, and then up at Duran as he fingered the tip. “You’ve become a very annoying thorn in my side, Duran. I really have no idea why I haven’t killed you before now... oh well, one less person to deal with is always good, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Duran said, knowing the only thing he could do now was stall Talus. He seemed to have become tired of talking, now, and had turned deadly serious. “But do you really need to kill me?”

“Do I need to? No, of course not... I could get someone else to kill you, and it wouldn’t be as messy.”

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> He’s making jokes, not as serious as he was just now. I may still have a chance... If I can just distract him a little longer...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Heh... because I wanted something to do,” Talus cast his eyes back to the blade.

“Something to do?” Duran let a laugh escape his mouth. It was genuine. “You don’t call killing innocent people something to do? You really are crazy...”

“Crazy, I may be,” Talus snarled, bearing his teeth and letting loose a <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> hiss<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> from his forked tongue that the translator couldn’t comprehend. “But those people, they were not innocent!”

“They hadn’t been arrested, or charged with anything,” Duran countered. “If you had just infor-”

“Informed Coruscant Security?!” Talus spat, obviously taking offence at what he knew Duran would say. “You would do what? Imprison them? Those people did not deserve prison! They deserved death!”

Duran though about what Talus had said, but was sure to carry on talking, lest Talus decided he was bored and wanted to finish the job. “They were all guilty, were they?”

“Of course!”

“Talus, you killed dozens, you can’t have been sure that they were all guilty,” Duran’s voice took on the tone of a parent childing their offspring for making a simple error, but Talus would have none of it.

“I was sure!” Talus said, an anger glowing in his eyes that Duran had never seen before in a creature, as he stepped closer to the pit, moving the knife to his hand and gripping it in a position ready to throw.

Duran’s arms were growing tired, but he knew that he wouldn’t have to hold on very much longer, either way the meeting went.

“They had all committed a crime, everyone has!”

“What crimes, Talus?”

“The crime of <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> living<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->!”

“That’s a crime? You really are crazy, Talus...” Duran said, looking Talus straight in the eye.

“You know... I think you’re right,” Talus said, and raised his knife arm in a wide arc. About half way through the motion, the glittering blade escaped his grasp and flew towards Duran.

In a last ditch attempt at staying alive, Duran threw up his own gun arm, but found that it would not move. In half a second, he looked up at Talus, and saw the look of furious concentration on his face. The alien’s features were contorted as he glared at Duran’s arm, and suddenly the blaster flew from his grip, sailing over the pit to where Talus was standing.

Duran could only watch as the smile spread over Talus’ face, and the blaster moved towards him.

The next few seconds seemed like a lifetime to Duran, as he reacted to the situation as he saw it.

His gun gone, and a knife only a few metres from his chest and flying in fast, he could see only one logical course of action.

He let go.

That is, he let go with his hands. As they had been talking, Duran had twisted his leg around the bottom of the rope, and it now served as a fairly secure lifeline. He swung on it, and as he fell back, ulled a second blaster from his ankle. The arc he was on brought him back up to face Talus, after a second, and he pulled the trigger, not daring to take the time to aim.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Psheww, psheww, psheww<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The bolts of energy lanced out over the pit, and one of them hit Talus in the leg. His face contorted again, not in concentration, but in pain, and he fell forward, headfirst into the pit that he had intended for his enemy.

There was a blue glow as he hit the water, but Duran didn’t see it, as he worked on pulling himself up.

It took him a while, but he managed to swing himself to safety on the side of the pit.

He realised as he was walking back, that the time from when Talus had released the knife, to the time Duran had shot him, was probably only a few seconds, although it had seemed to move so slowly at the time.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Oh well, it doesn’t matter any more.

It’s over.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Eleven years later<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

“Sergeant? That you?” A cocky young voice spoke over the comm., raining heavily on the parade that was Sergeant Duran’s sleep.

“Ugh...” He groaned, as he picked up the comm. and answered it. “Cor’shek, it’s the middle of the night,” Duran complained, checking his bedside chrono.

“Yeah boss, I know, but we’ve got something down here that Deutch said you’d want to take a look at...”

“Deutch? Put him on. I don’t want to talk to you at this hour”

“OK...” The voice went away, and was quickly replaced by that of an obviously older human.

“Good morning, Joel,” It joked, forcing Duran to grin in the darkness, at least.

“Morning? It’s still dark outside.”

“Oh yeah, but you’re getting up. Now.” Deutch’s voice had suddenly hardened, and he grew serious all of a sudden.

Duran caught the tone in his old friend’s voice, and immediately sat up straight in bed. “What is it?”

“Just come to the co-ordinates I’m sending you now, and... be careful, OK?” Deutch cautioned Duran, and then the comm. went dead.

Silently, Duran got up and began to dress.

“Deutch!” Duran’s voice carried easily over the short distance separating the two old friends.

“Hey, Joel,” Deutch’s answer came simply, but held none of the joy his friend’s did. The two hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, and Duran found the face of his old partner and comrade hadn’t changed much at all over the time.

Duran now walked up to Deutch, sizing him up and looking for any notable differences in the lower ranking Corporal. He found none, and gave his friend a well-meaning hug when they came close enough.

“So,” Duran said, stepping back a pace and surveying the corridor in which he and Duran stood for the first time. It was simple in design, grey coloured walls with silver furnishings on the edges. The part that the pair stood in was plain, with a corner at each end leading off to much of the same. No outside light filtered into the windowless drab, but Duran could count two glow lamps dimly lighting the place, spaced out sparingly along the ten metre distance that it spanned. There was a single door, about half way down the corridor, which Duran and Deutch now stood before.

“What’s in here?”

“The reason you got up so early,” Deutch replied simply, deliberately not letting out too many facts and annoying the frag out of Duran.

“All right...” Duran did the best he could to wipe the smile off his face. But even after thirteen years working the streets, he couldn’t seem to mask his happiness at seeing his old friend again.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Ten fragging years... it’s been far too long.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“...Is it safe?” Apprehension dawned on Duran, as he realised the sudden seriousness that was creeping rapidly into Deutch’s words.

“You be the judge of that, Joel,” Duran said, as he reached out and thumbed the door panel. It slid open to reveal a scene that Duran knew all too well. There were a few Coruscant Security officers hanging about, either eating or analysing reports. The room was plain, with a sickening smell of disinfectant hanging in the air. There was only one item of furniture in it: a small table, off to one side.

Other than that, the room was empty.

“What is this, Deutch?” Duran turned to him, a questioning look on his face.

“A murder scene.”

“What...?”

“Follow me,” and Deutch started walking forward, moving towards what appeared to be just another panel of the wall. When he reached it, however, a motor could be heard suddenly chugging to life, and the panel slid quickly back and to the side, revealing another corridor beyond. “This is a mansion, Joel. That room back there was just for the visitors. The guy who lived here bought out all the apartments on this level of the building, and joined them all together. Had a good business running in em, too... until he died, of course.”

“What kind of business?” Duran asked, curious as to weather this was the reason Deutch had brought him in on this. It obviously wasn’t just a social call.

“Well, as a front,” Deutch answered, moving on down the corridor and talking over his shoulder at the same time. “This guy was a geneticist. Even had half of this place made into a laboratory, and we think that that’s what he actually did, besides.”

“What was he really up to, then?”

“Glitterstim,” it was a simple answer, and need hardly no more explanation.
“OK, so I’m supposing he was a supplier...”

“Bingo.”

“...And his business was going fine until one of his clients got mad with a purchase and decided to have him knocked off,” Duran finished his conclusion.

“Yeah, that’s what we thought, at first...” Deutch trailed off. They had reached a door, the one Deutch had been leading Duran to, obviously.

“What’s that supposed to mean? And what’s in here?”

“Just look.”

Deutch reached out a gloved hand, and pressed the switch that lay on one side of the door. It swished open almost silently, and the scene that met Duran’s eyes now made him want to throw up. He turned away quickly, stifling a gasp as Deutch brushed past him into the room, commenting as he went.

“Bear with it, Joel. It’s not like you haven’t seen this kind of thing before.”

All Duran could do was stand outside the room, leaning on the door post with his eyes downcast, not daring to look in.

Yes, he had seen this kind of thing before. Many times. But it was <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> so<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> long ago, and afterward he had been through therapy, to try and make himself forget what it was like. Deutch had been there, as well. He had been Duran’s partner at the time, whilst it was happening... eleven years ago.

Finally, Duran brought his head up, and opened his eyes.

Deutch was well inside the room, surrounded by half a dozen forensic specialists who were scooping up all they could find off the floor, ceiling and walls. Duran made to step into the room, but found his leg had frozen. He tried again, but again could not move.

From across the space, Deutch looked at him, and, when he saw the expression Duran wore, picked his was carefully back out to him, closing the door behind.

“...Is that why you brought me here?” Duran huffed, catching his breath and standing up straight.

“Yes.”

“You think it was... him?” Duran asked, dreading the answer, whatever it would be.

“Yes, we do.”

“B-but why? He hasn’t... he hasn’t been seen in eleven years... I killed him, for frell’s sake!” Duran was edgy, but he couldn’t contain himself. He <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> knew<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> that Talus was dead, he knew it.

And yet, in the back of his mind, something was telling him otherwise. That feeling he’d always had when Talus was around had come back, and he now knew that it wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

“He’s back, Joel,” Deutch said, leaning heavily on the wall. “He’s back.”

“I know.”