Sulfur Lungs
Metellos
Moribedo District
In front of BIG ZORG'S METELLOS MEATALOS take-out restaurant
The missing courier's speeder bike had been found unceremoniously crashed into the lower streets of Metellos' most impoverished district. The intersection had been cordoned off by local law enforcement, and an investigation had been launched and then quickly dropped. The speeder's serial number had been found to be connected to the Dead Shen Syndicate, after which officers quickly swept the entire affair under the rug as a routine "traffic accident," though certain bribed elements had sent out word to the Syndicate through proper channels, which was how Ives had ended up here.
His employer, Callo, had sent him out to head up an investigation into why the courier to whom the speeder belonged had never made it to his clients, the Dead Shens. The other syndicate, in turn, had also sent one of their own, officially as help, but unofficially to prevent any funny business on Callo's end.
Ives bit into a fruit-shaped meat dish as he surveyed the crash site. Ives hadn't eaten in over a day, and Big Zorg had been very accommodating with the food despite the crime scene blocking the entire roadway in front of his establishment. The 'meatalo' Ives had been served, despite being wrapped in five napkins, was utterly drenching his hands with sauce. He'd expected that the potential contaminants would have been grounds to remove him from the forensic crime scene, but neither of the two officers on duty seemed to particularly mind. Though, they seemed to be going out of their way not to look in his, or his Dead Shen counterpart's, direction.
"What do you think happened to the courier?" Ives asked, flicking what remained of the speeder's handle protruding from a wall.
The crash had been a particularly violent one. The speeder had hit the ground with enough force to crater the permacrete road, whereupon it had exploded into a couple dozen pieces. Bits and pieces were scattered all over the intersection, including the steering handle embedded in the wall that Ives was messing with.
"No chance the courier walked it off," he remarked. "But there's no sign of a body. At all."
Rorie
Moribedo District
In front of BIG ZORG'S METELLOS MEATALOS take-out restaurant
The missing courier's speeder bike had been found unceremoniously crashed into the lower streets of Metellos' most impoverished district. The intersection had been cordoned off by local law enforcement, and an investigation had been launched and then quickly dropped. The speeder's serial number had been found to be connected to the Dead Shen Syndicate, after which officers quickly swept the entire affair under the rug as a routine "traffic accident," though certain bribed elements had sent out word to the Syndicate through proper channels, which was how Ives had ended up here.
His employer, Callo, had sent him out to head up an investigation into why the courier to whom the speeder belonged had never made it to his clients, the Dead Shens. The other syndicate, in turn, had also sent one of their own, officially as help, but unofficially to prevent any funny business on Callo's end.
Ives bit into a fruit-shaped meat dish as he surveyed the crash site. Ives hadn't eaten in over a day, and Big Zorg had been very accommodating with the food despite the crime scene blocking the entire roadway in front of his establishment. The 'meatalo' Ives had been served, despite being wrapped in five napkins, was utterly drenching his hands with sauce. He'd expected that the potential contaminants would have been grounds to remove him from the forensic crime scene, but neither of the two officers on duty seemed to particularly mind. Though, they seemed to be going out of their way not to look in his, or his Dead Shen counterpart's, direction.
"What do you think happened to the courier?" Ives asked, flicking what remained of the speeder's handle protruding from a wall.
The crash had been a particularly violent one. The speeder had hit the ground with enough force to crater the permacrete road, whereupon it had exploded into a couple dozen pieces. Bits and pieces were scattered all over the intersection, including the steering handle embedded in the wall that Ives was messing with.
"No chance the courier walked it off," he remarked. "But there's no sign of a body. At all."
Rorie