Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232 
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 15, 2014 1:13:32 GMT -8
While Bateman might had been an artificial creature, he was a creature of caution and habit. When trusting a delicate operation on an unknown asset, he would make research on the personality, secrets and habits of said person. It does also pay off if he finds that person while researching his life. Thus far, Devlin Lyons worked perfectly as a fallguy, a scapegoat if things would go wrong.
Bateman got out of the car across from the building on the flank, and waiting a couple minutes while 14 got around, got out of her car and started a new scene. This time more screaming, throwing of various tools and mild resisting the guards. When bateman was sure all three had gone out to meet the crazy woman in the ruined suit, he calmly walked up to the side door, used the key card and walked through. The hall was T shaped, the upper horisontal line held the elovators. He walked silently through without effort and peaked down the vertical line of the hall, past the receptionist whom was shocked by twilek female stupidity and the three outside trying to remove the crazed person from the premesis. Bateman then took the stairs up instead, and called an elovator a floor up, so the chirping sound its arrival did wouldnt alert the receptionist. He got into the elovator, and pressed the button for "Penthouse". From there he would just have to read names on doors...
Bateman used the security key card. It worked. Good. He was in. Someone really would loose his job because of this. Now the portable scanner came handy. He got in and took a good look at the place, then tried to find the comm unit, if there was any. He wanted to listed for the comm-answerer. For first he wanted to hear Devlin Lyons voice, analyse it and store it for later use. HIs ability to mimic voices could become very useful. Second, he started scanning the room. He was scanning for secret stashes. Most military people had a gun or a bug-out bag in their homes in case they have to protect themselves, leave or both at the same time. Bateman wanted his little Banshee to be armed, so he needed a gun, secondly he needed Devlins secrets. If you knew a mans secrets, he was in your pocket and bought without money.
So, Bateman searched the room and hoped he had some useful leads on Mr Lyons personality.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 15, 2014 8:53:25 GMT -8
In Devlin's apartment, there was little other than the necessities. He might live a fancy life, but that didn't mean he brought it home with him. The only thing that was fancy was the television, which was a seventy inch screen. His crates of newly delivered Shento cigars were laying on the kitchen table, and there was a bottle of Whyren's Reserve on the bar counter. Scanning, at first nothing could be found, but something was off. There were dark spots, shielded from scans. Small enough to overlook, but large enough to hold a weapon. Investigating each spot would reveal a different weapon. If one were to search each spot they would find thirteen blasters, six slugthrowers, and no less than seven knives.
There was also a larger shielded area, large enough to contain a whole locker, but it was within the wall, and there did not seem to be any kind of keypad or opening mechanism to reach it. or were there any obvious places to put secret switches.
Moving on to the bedroom, there was the smell of starch in the air. Someone had been ironing. There were far few dark spots on the scanner in this room. It appeared that he expected most attacks to come from the main room. But there were still weapons stashed about, and also...There it was! Bateman would find a small duffel bag with plenty of credits, ammo, and clothes to last a long while. There was also several fake IDs, and passports to get through secure locations. They looked legit. Whoever he had do them was good at what they did.
At the bottom of the bag was a case. Opening it up would reveal a beautiful red haired woman in full combat armor holding a minigun. The name Veronica Lyons was signed in beautiful script handwriting at the bottom.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 15, 2014 12:04:04 GMT -8
If Bateman could ever cry, it was because he was happy he had found a weakness in someone he could exploit. The picture was put together. Warring husband, lost amazon love. Lives a life of memory and fast adventures, but keeps the memory where he will always reach it, the bug-out-bag. Cute. Romantic.
Usable.
The picture was put back in the case, and put the case in his large inner pocket of his suit. It was the most important item. The IDs were the second most important. Even to Batemans visual receptors, the ID-s were wery well made fakes. He could only match them to real ones because instead of 6 billion galactic ways of communication he actually had useful information in his hard drive. Like ID security databases. Not all, but the most common security measures for civil and military ID. This forger was good, and he wanted that contact. The Crucible would do well with that knowledge.
The guns were the next items he packed into the duffle bag. All of them. He came with Charter, and lacked the firepower he liked to have around him. Statistical survival of criminal activities always rose significantly when one had firepower.
Finally, all he left in the apartmant were the close combat weapons and the cash where the duffle bag had bin. The cash was on a piece of paper. Bone Colouring, Lettering: Sicilian Rail and yes, it even has a water mark. On it, a comm units number and a name.
PATRICK BATEMAN
Now, to the mysterious hideing place. First, caution. He set the sensor to detect comm-waves. See if the opening mechanism, if any, would have a remote control. He could then find the panel controlling it by searching out a battery source that holds the panel or switch active.
If not, then he would try to find if there was a battery source of energy inside the wall, focusing the sensor on this specific task to amplify its effectiveness. If none is found, then it was safe to say that whatever was hid in there was a hidie-hole. All good operatives had one for mission critical objects or personal effects. If the man keeps a long lost loves picture in the open, he must have something really fun placed in there.
Or a bomb, to pacify the area and put his persuers or unwanted intruders like Bateman off his trail and maybe into a fiery inferno falling 200 levels down on the street.
Chemical search. He searched for the most common explosive compounds, therrite, axitite and baradium...
Downstairs 14 nearly got the cops called out on her so she retreated into a parking lot not far. She guessed Bateman was doing well because he had not called her for his rescue. She waited patiently while changing into one of the spare suits in her luggage.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 15, 2014 12:25:03 GMT -8
There was a small power line inside the wall leading back behind the bar. Following it, the line ended right behind a large bottle of Tihaar on a shelf under the bar counter. Moving it aside, there was a small keypad in the wall. No letters, no numbers, just a black surface on the wooden insides of the shelf. There also were no spaces to shove a slicing tool into without ripping the pad out, and possibly triggering a trap. After about a minute of looking it over, blue letters scrolled across the pad.
Please Input Pass Code
There was no trace of any chemicals, at least outside of the hidden area. If there was something explosive or deadly in there, the outside had been scrubbed and decontaminated, and the hidden space was airtight. Not even a molecule could pass through the seal. Devlin had spent a lot of credits hiding whatever was in there.
At the bar a light began blinking. It was the video comm. There was an incoming request for a video transmission. The only inkling about who it might be lay in the name that popped up.
Incoming transmission from Nafor
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 15, 2014 12:46:00 GMT -8
Bateman found this very interesting. All of it. A controll pad, wanting a passcode. No way to write it in, so it is a voice controlled mechanism. And he could very well guess the pass code. Veronica, or Ver, or Ronica. Some version of the long lost memories name. Or even a mandalorian version of it, Veronica'ika? Ver'ika?
No matter, without the voice of this houses master it would be...
Ringing.
Video call. Cute Nautolan female. Bateman let it ring, memorising the number and the face. It would come to an answering message shortly... He started voice sample analysis programs.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 15, 2014 12:58:17 GMT -8
The comm rang for several minutes, obviously set to wake up someone who was a heavy sleeper to give them a chance to answer it, before finally beeping. An automated message began playing. The voice was deep and a little gruff. Like someone was just waking up.
You've reach my place. Leave a message and let me sleep. Call again and I'll hunt you down.
The comm machine beeped again and an angry female voice began speaking.
Haar'chak, Devlin! You told me that woman would only need the dress for a few hours! Just because you're my commander does not mean you get to take my stuff! Next time, you're taking me to Krischlev's!"
There was a slam and then the comm machine beeped again, letting whoever was there know the message was over.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 15, 2014 13:04:39 GMT -8
The droid stood watching the comm unit for a moment. He was processing the data soundwave for soundwave, letter for letter, tone for tone, meaning for meaning. Finally, he would speak, and it would not be Batemans standard voice. It would be a scary resemblence to the newly woken and rather grumpy Devlin Lyons.
-Bateman-
"Ver'ika."
He would speak to the panel. If one version didnt work he would do with an other. Mixing mandalorian in sometimes from his limited database of languages (not exactly 6 billion). Entire name, shortened name, parts of name, he would try all possible versions he could think off.
He also understood the Nautolans words. Commander. The man did not work alone. Good. Very good. This will be used.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 15, 2014 13:22:03 GMT -8
The keypad denied each and every spoken iteration of the name Veronica, until finally her whole name was spoken. Veronica Lyons. The console blinked green, and the wall began to hiss. Slowly the paneling opened up, revealing a room which was...well...let's just overkill.There was a large suit of power armor inside, along with an arsenal of weapons. An LS-150 Particle Repeater, a Mandalorian blaster rifle, thermal detonators, replacement cybernetic parts, even a whole replacement arm. There was stashed ammo to outlast an army, and medical supplies and food rations to spare.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 15, 2014 13:51:44 GMT -8
------------------------------------------------
Lubricant tanks open......
Visual Module lubrication active.......
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The HRD shed a tear. It was beautifull. His first real catch of real dirt in his short but intresting "life". The sheer amount of killing power in there made the droid sure that this was the man he wanted to piss off. This was the man he wanted to use. Abuse. Blackmail.
Between the picture, the nautolan, ID-cards and this treausre, the man was his, and he knew exactly what he needed to take from this stash to make it personal enough to hold the man in his proverbial claws. The Picture and The Nautolan.
Dont forget the gun. That huge gun was a high tech equipment that could be very valuable to the Company. Schematics will have to be made. Juvex Import Export will harness this firepower. He took up the weapon withsome caution (scanned for traps first), one hand and put it in the duffle bag. It didnt fit, but that was no matter, he could still carry it. He put a shirt on it to hide the bulge of the weapon. He would shoot his way out if needed, and there wasnt much stopping him now. He put two of the smaller arms in his pants for quick drawing and turned towards the comm unit the Nautolan was calling from.
He pressed Redail.
-Bateman (with Devlins voice)-
"Its the Commander. Something serious has happened. Meet me at the northern Parking Lot of the SoroSuub local office in 20. I bring the guns."
He would have said it to her or her answering machine, it didnt matter. It needed to be short and with as little interaction as possible, then hang up. Too much interaction and the target might get suspicious.
He hung up and lifted the duffle bag. A normal human wouldnt even be able to lift it with one hand, and this old old man did it without swaying, as if his arm had the strenght of a crane. He walked out of the apartment with the grace of an older gentleman holding a bag filled with toy bunnies and took the elovator to the first floor. From there, he walked down the stairs, out the door he came, and then went around to the lawn on the front antrence. There he dropped the ID card and called 14 for her location.
From there, the two went to the SoroSuub building to plan their ambush, and meet the board. Not to mention the little crafting project Bateman had for 14. He had also taken some explosives (carefully, not to trigger some trap). Would come to good use.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 15, 2014 14:10:29 GMT -8
Nafor sat up when she heard her comm ringing. She glanced over at the console. It was Devlin. Calling her back. She let it go to the machine and listened to the message. She frowned. Why Sorosuub, and more importantly, why weapons? Were they going against their employers? Had they done something? Maybe they were just prepping for another job and some big wig wanted to brief them personally. Who knew?
She put on her blaster proof vest, and then her shirt, still packing some of her own weapons for good measure. Something about this didn't sit right with her. After about half an hour she arrived at the Sorosuub building parking lot and began looking for Devlin. That feeling came back, the feeling that something was wrong. Her hand went to her blaster.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 16, 2014 7:46:04 GMT -8
Meanwhile, back at the plot.Devlin was watching Mirian intently as she seemed to become paranoid, glancing around, her eyes widening with the same looks as before. What was wrong? Was it him? Just as she spoke she was interrupted, by a familiar voice. Devlin turned in his seat and frowned when he saw Commander Monroe behind him. He smirked."Detective....What a pleasure to see you here. Please have a seat, share some brandy." Devlin's eyes widened up when he was told he was truly under arrest, and Monroe put his hand near his gun. Devlin stammered."Y-y-you must be mistaken, Commander. I thought we had already cleared this up?" Seeing Monroe's expression unchanged, in fact he looked even more serious, Devlin turned his head back to Mirian and his face grew red with embarrassment."Looks like work caught up with me. Sorry about ruining dinner, Mirian. I had a wonderful time." Devlin stood up slowly, taking off his holsters with his Dissuader KD-30 on it, and then unclipped his lightfoil from his belt, lying them flat on the table. Moving more slowly to let Monroe know he was not making a move, he reached into his iner jacket pocket and pulled out a credit chit, laying it on the table. He glanced back at Mirian."That should cover dinner. Have then wrap up my steak, and the brandy. I should be out in a few hours, at most." Devlin then put his military dress hat on his head inside a building, which was completely against regulations. He just didn't want to lose it. After putting on the hat he slowly turned around and put his hands behind his back."You better have solid evidence to tear me away from such a lovely night, Monroe. Consider that threatening an officer." "I'll add it to the charges." He pulled a pair of binders off his belt and clicked them shut around Devlin's wrists, not bothering to make sure they were comfortable. "Apologies for the ruined evening miss. In the future, I'd recommend being a bit more choosy about the company you keep." Then he spun Devlin around and marched him outside, putting him into the back of his unmarked V-sec cruiser before climbing into the driver's seat and heading off toward the nearest precinct. He would have read him his rights, but ever since the company took over they'd gotten rid of that particular procedure. Didn't want your subjects getting the idea that they had anything you couldn't take away if you got the inkling.He pulled up to the front entrance when they arrived, the one that always had a few holocams and reporters waiting outside, hoping for a big interview with some famous criminal, and hauled Devlin out of the car and up the steps. He kind of wished it had been the courthouse, there were always a good deal more cameras there, but this would have to do for now. "Come on, Mr Lyons. That murder charge isn't going to file itself." He spoke a bit louder than might have been strictly necessary under the circumstances. Didn't want the microphones to miss anything, after all.Once inside, he dropped the good cop act and pushed Devlin onto the nearest bench. "Sit." He exchanged a few words with the desk sergeant, then grabbed Devlin again as they got buzzed through into the precinct itself. After going through no less than three scanners to confirm that he was unarmed, the cuffs were removed and he was relegated to an empty cell to await whatever fate would find him next. Monroe leaved against the wall next to the bars. "I'd tell you I'm sorry about this, but I think we both know I'd be lying." He liked this particular precinct. It still had the old metal cages instead of the fancy forcefield ones. That meant the bad guys stayed locked up if the power went out. He couldn't really understand why some of the newer stations had switched. |
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 16, 2014 8:02:33 GMT -8
Through everything that was going on, Devlin kept a hardened look on his face. His eyes never wavered, his jaw was firm, and mostly he stayed quiet. He didn't have anything to say. He knew what was going to happen. Finally when he was thrown into a cell by himself, he decided to speak.
"You know I'll be out of here within hours, Monroe. What are you trying to prove? That you're a good cop?"
Devlin began sarcastically clapping his hands. he slow clap echoed through he cells.
"Congratulations. You're a good cop, but did you ever think to realize through that grudge you have against me that there are other people, worse than me? At least I have the courtesy to come quietly...Some of the people I know....They'd blow everyone around them up. You got lucky."
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 16, 2014 10:25:56 GMT -8
Nafor sat up when she heard her comm ringing. She glanced over at the console. It was Devlin. Calling her back. She let it go to the machine and listened to the message. She frowned. Why Sorosuub, and more importantly, why weapons? Were they going against their employers? Had they done something? Maybe they were just prepping for another job and some big wig wanted to brief them personally. Who knew?She put on her blaster proof vest, and then her shirt, still packing some of her own weapons for good measure. Something about this didn't sit right with her. After about half an hour she arrived at the Sorosuub building parking lot and began looking for Devlin. That feeling came back, the feeling that something was wrong. Her hand went to her blaster. -14- "Ms Nafor, please come inside, president Bateman is waiting for you." Her voice spelled urgency, her bodylanguage stiff. Either from the corporate stick up her ass, or something serious was really going down.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 16, 2014 17:56:38 GMT -8
Nafor moved her hand away from her blaster when the Twi'lek mentioned the president. She knew of him, but never expected him to show up here. Was this an inspection? Something still did not seem right, especially with this Twi'lek. The way she stared. Nafor edged towards Fourteen slowly, her eyes looking around the parking lot for anything out of the ordinary.
"Where's the Commander? He said he would meet me here. He also never said anything about meeting the frackin' President of the company."
Nafor's hand hovered close to her blaster once more. She was cautious. That's how she had survived so long, and she intended to keep surviving.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Jun 17, 2014 3:22:29 GMT -8
By now, the news of Devlins arrest have reached the company headquarters. A new plan was set in motion from the previous one. As Nafor arrived at the norhtern parking lot, two security containment teams were sent out from the southern one. One to the apartment of Devlin, and one for Nafors. They were cleaning crews, set on removing valuables, weapons and erasing all traces of 14, Bateman and even Lyons and Nafor. Finally, to set two big nice firebombs.
-14-
"Yes, that is the problem Ms Nafor. The Local authorothies have arrested mr Lyons. President Bateman wishes to debrief you personally. Then, we will see what we can do to free your boss. Come, he is not a patient man."
They crossed the main entrance and entered an elovator after 14 nodded to the receptionist. In the elovator the slave tried to ease Nafors mind.
-14-
"I am Fourteen by the way. Mr Batemans assistant. Just take it easy, answer his questions truthfully, be respectful and this will go over quick. Mr Bateman cares a lot for his employees, so he will do what he can as the CEO for SoroSuub to free your commander."
They stepped out of the elovator strait into the penthouse office. Large, well decorated with art and hunting throphies, expensive carpets, a large mini-bar, huge screen TV on one wall showing economical information and in the middle, a giant of Desks. Behind it, A thin, tall, elderly man with a warm smile and too long crossed fingers. Somehow his fingers felt freakishly long.
-Bateman-
"Please, take a seat Ms Nafor. I am Patrick Bateman. Now, lets get to the chase, why on earth would the local police arrest mr Lyons?"
Friendly voice, fatherly tone, like a guardian from the heavens.
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 17, 2014 6:04:15 GMT -8
It wasn't hard to find him, the restaurant being as empty as it was, and he caught the tail end of a conversation as he approached from behind Devlin. Bad move, leaving the entrance at your back. He must be distracted tonight. Though given his company, Monroe could understand why. She was young, but pretty in spite of the scars that marked her face and arm, and Monroe cut her off mid-sentence as he came to a stop behind Lyons."...put your hands behind your head and stand up slowly?" "EEP!" His right hand hovered near the grip of the pistol on his right thigh, knowing all too well how often men like this would decide resistance was better than compliance, no matter the odds. He got the impression from Devlin, however, that he was smarter than that, and for the sake of the girl he hoped he was right."Sorry for interrupting..." He really wasn't. "...But you're under arrest for the murder of Phin Shenlo." Devlin was watching Mirian intently as she seemed to become paranoid, glancing around, her eyes widening with the same looks as before. What was wrong? Was it him? Just as she spoke she was interrupted, by a familiar voice. Devlin turned in his seat and frowned when he saw Commander Monroe behind him. He smirked."Detective....What a pleasure to see you here. Please have a seat, share some brandy." Devlin's eyes widened up when he was told he was truly under arrest, and Monroe put his hand near his gun. Devlin stammered."Y-y-you must be mistaken, Commander. I thought we had already cleared this up?" Seeing Monroe's expression unchanged, in fact he looked even more serious, Devlin turned his head back to Mirian and his face grew red with embarrassment."Looks like work caught up with me. Sorry about ruining dinner, Mirian. I had a wonderful time." Devlin stood up slowly, taking off his holsters with his Dissuader KD-30 on it, and then unclipped his lightfoil from his belt, lying them flat on the table. Moving more slowly to let Monroe know he was not making a move, he reached into his iner jacket pocket and pulled out a credit chit, laying it on the table. He glanced back at Mirian."That should cover dinner. Have them wrap up my steak, and the brandy. I should be out in a few hours, at most." Devlin then put his military dress hat on his head inside a building, which was completely against regulations. He just didn't want to lose it. After putting on the hat he slowly turned around and put his hands behind his back."You better have solid evidence to tear me away from such a lovely night, Monroe. Consider that threatening an officer." "I'll add it to the charges." He pulled a pair of binders off his belt and clicked them shut around Devlin's wrists, not bothering to make sure they were comfortable. "Apologies for the ruined evening miss. In the future, I'd recommend being a bit more choosy about the company you keep." Then he spun Devlin around and marched him outside, putting him into the back of his unmarked V-sec cruiser before climbing into the driver's seat and heading off toward the nearest precinct.
If she were any more choosy, honestly, she'd have no friends at all. Then again, what friends did she have? She stayed rooted to her seat as Devlin was led away, her mind still piecing everything together and having difficulty accepting what had happened. She glanced self-consciously to her left and right. There wasn't a huge crowd fortunately, but still, everyone was staring.
Awkward.
She did as Devlin asked, when a waiter came over, hesitantly approaching her after the spectacle of her date being arrested. She had them take away the food and the brandy, and asked for the check. She paid the bill, and left a generous tip for the waiter, hoping that's what Devlin would have done, and took what little change was left, and headed out, trying not to look anyone in the eye. She was still chenneling the Force, and without realizing it, caused a candle to start wobbling. The Reservations droid at the entrance bid her a nice evening and an invitation to come again, to which she just politely smiled. She sincerely doubted she was coming here ever again. As she flagged down a taxi and headed back to the spaceport, several of the candles finally collapsed, right on top the tablecloths. Several tables, mainly unoccupied ones, caught fire. Panicked patrons kicked away from their burning tables, even as sprinklers began to activate to put out the fires, and several droids and waiters tried to put out the fires, but the damage was done, and most, if not all patrons had since vacated the premises, with reporters already racing towards Krischlev's, promise of a interesting headline for tomorrow's local Holonet News Network.Meanwhile, some distance away from Krischlev'sFalton, a male Rutian Twi'Lek and his mate, Syra, were preparing for a dinner date at the infamous restaurant. He had had this reservation for over a month now, and the couple had been looking forward to this day. They weren't the poorest people around, but neither were they the richest, so a trip to Krischlev's was an experience to be remembered and cherished. Syra was just adding some touch-ups to her face when the Holovid behind her began showing the news about the small fire that broke out at the reputable eatery, and she whipped around in shock, her Lekku flying wildly with the sudden momentum. "Love?" She called."What is it, Syra?" Falton patiently asked as he entered their bedroom, and when he saw his wife looking at the Holovid, he followed her gaze, and stared in disbelief."No...no no no!" Falton gestured furiously at the Holovid display, "I had that reservation over a month ago! They cannot be serious!" "Love, calm down!" Syra tried to placate, "The doctor said to keep your blood pressure under control, you cannot afford another attack!" If only Falton knew that if he'd gone to the restaurant, he and his wife would have been accosted by a gang of robbers roaming near the location, disguised as reputable gentlemen. In fact, dozens of people who had now been forced to vacate the premises would have been victims to these robbers, and Falton and his wife would have lost their lives that night, if not for Mirian's accidentally and indirectly setting the place on fire.Back at Rimma City Capital Spaceport, Docking Bay #13, Serene MoondancerMirian returned to her cruiser and put the food and brandy away in a cold storage locker, then stripped off the dress very carefully, not wanting any damage to come to it. While Devlin assured her that his friend, Nafor, wouldn't really kill her if anything happened, she didn't want to take chances. Besides, it was a nice dress. Unfortunately, on the way to her room, she tripped over her own feet, but to her relief, she was the only one hurt, while the dress stayed safe within her grip. She placed it back in its container that it came in after a very quick cleaning. Using some products she'd had from a delivery job involving clothes, she kept the cleaning material to restore the dress to market value condition, as if it had never been worn.
Now that all that was dealt with, she could review the situation and replay everything that happened that night. She'd already had her suspicions that Devlin was completely upright and honest with her about what he did. But she didn't pry into that, because honestly, everyone was accorded their rights to secrets and privacy. She just didn't expect it to blow up in everyone's faces the way it did. Then this Monroe fellow, whom Devlin identified by name, every word that left Devlin's mouth suggested they both had met at least once before. She could sense the tension between the two that she could have cut it with her lightsaber (assuming it worked for her). Obviously, Monroe's been wanting to nail Devlin for crimes. Just how much about Devlin did she not know?
But that was not the only problem. Maybe it was the Jedi in her, or maybe just her, and her stubborn belief that there was good in everybody, but she felt that Devlin couldn't be all that bad. She took into consideration all the small acts he performed for her tonight. Taking her out to dinner, being the gentleman, even in the face of arrest, he made sure to pay for the dinner. Yes, very meager acts in light of a murder accusation, but Mirian still counted it. It could be an act, but you had to have some measure of kindness in you to even know how to act the part. And that was good enough for her.
In addition to that, she was recalling the vision she'd had about the man. There was something about it that suggested more than she could fathom at the immediate moment. She recalled the look of sorrow, the severed hand, which had to mean something, and the skulls and bones surrounding him. The man was surrounded in sorrow and loss. And she felt an urging within her to help him. For better or for worse, there was a reason she saw what she saw, and it was not just to do nothing about it. She glanced at the Holodisplay of Taelonn Kanral."What do you think?" She asked as the display slowly rotated the head to face her, and she waited a moment.
Detective Monroe was her first link to uncovering the mystery of Devlin Lyons. She should speak to him, as soon as possible.
She only had his last name to go on, but she was confident she'd find him easily enough, and she was right. Getting on her ship's Holonet Console, she linked up to Vandelhelm's data servers, and found the local news already rife with reports of Devlin's arrest. He was quite high-profile, being an enforcer for a particularly powerful organization in the mining business. She frowned as she read some related news about Devlin himself, and already got herself a taste of the kind of things he'd done, or was suspected to have done. Now, she looked up for news about Detective Monroe, and found that he was quite a decorated person too. His first name was Simon, and she also got the location of the precinct he'd taken Devlin to.
She saved the information to her personal Datapad, changed into her Corellian outfit, a blend of Jedi and paramilitary fashion, retrieved her lightsaber, keeping it hidden under her coat, and strapped on her S-5 Heavy Blaster Pistol, and pulled out her personal speeder.
She pulled up at the V-Sec precinct and marched into the building. She garnered attention when she tripped over the threshold, and when she tried to brace her own stance while clambering back to her feet, managed to give herself an epic slap. Now looking guilty of self-assault, she tried not to look utterly embarrassed as she addressed the personnel present, "I'm...here to see...Detective Simon Monroe, please. It concerns the arrest of Mr. Devlin Lyons." |
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 17, 2014 7:33:13 GMT -8
Through everything that was going on, Devlin kept a hardened look on his face. His eyes never wavered, his jaw was firm, and mostly he stayed quiet. He didn't have anything to say. He knew what was going to happen. Finally when he was thrown into a cell by himself, he decided to speak."You know I'll be out of here within hours, Monroe. What are you trying to prove? That you're a good cop?" Devlin began sarcastically clapping his hands. he slow clap echoed through he cells."Congratulations. You're a good cop, but did you ever think to realize through that grudge you have against me that there are other people, worse than me? At least I have the courtesy to come quietly...Some of the people I know....They'd blow everyone around them up. You got lucky." "Luck has nothing to do with it, Lyons. I know what kind of man you are. I know exactly how far you're willing to go." He pulled a death stick out of a jacket pocket and lit up. "A cold-blooded killer wouldn't have thought twice about putting three holes in Mr Shenlo, they'd have been after his sisters without a single heartbeat of hesitation. Not you though. You took your time. Let them gain a lead on you. Why?" A pause as he inhaled deeply and pushed off the wall, moving to stand in front of the bars facing Devlin. "My guess is you either love the killing, love the surge of adrenaline and power when you take another life, holding their very existence in your hands and then crushing it without mercy..." No physiological response. Heartbeat steady, heat dispersion normal. That wasn't it, as he'd suspected. "...or you regretted what you had to do to him and wanted to pay respects, make some kind of amends." In Monroe's experience, criminals weren't that complicated. They were driven by the same things that inspired ordinary folk, but life had driven them to the extremes of those emotions and reasons. In the criminals mind, everything they did was always justified, in some way or another. "Either way, you completely missed the point of this whole ordeal. I'm not going to lock you up, Lyons. I'm going to make you famous." At that moment, a sergeant poked their head into the room and motioned for Monroe to join him outside. "Excuse me." Monroe turned and followed the sergeant out, giving Devlin some time to think about what he'd said.At the front desk:Monroe walked up to the desk, death stick still lit and glowing, and regarded the young woman that was waiting for him. She was the same one that had been at the restaurant with Devlin, but now she wore a corellian outfit and a blaster on her hip. "What can I do for you, Miss?" |
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 17, 2014 8:01:33 GMT -8
Now, how was she going to handle this? Mirian wasn't sure that Vandelhelm Security would appreciate the presence of a Force-Sensitive. Especially one that's trained (even if that's moot in the case of Mirian Santiro) as a Jedi. And frankly, she believed that she'd sullied the name of the Jedi enough already just for existing. So she ruled out telling Simon Monroe that she was Jedi. She didn't feel like lying either, but he wasn't likely to take too kindly to a mere civilian coming in to ask questions either, especially one that had a short time ago been rather dolled up as a companion of the man he'd just arrested on a very serious charge. Then, a small idea hit her. When she was a Padawan, she and her master had worked often with CorSec, she was given the title as a Deputy Lieutenant. She wasn't sure how that worked, but it gave her some rank with CorSec, and some liberty at crime scenes to ask questions or to do investigative work. She was also the onsite Medical Examiner and field medic for both the Jedi and CorSex once she was knighted.
Taking a deep breath, while keeping her deep blue eyes locked on Simon's, she said, "Detective Monroe, I am Mirian Santiro. Earlier, you saw me in the company of Mr. Devlin Lyons."
She paused, taking another breath and letting her introduction sink in, and then added, "I'm rather new to Vandelhelm and all events related to it, but I was formerly associated with CorSec, as a Lieutenant."
Her head tilted very slightly, but very quickly, almost a flinch or a jerking motion, and she blinked rapidly a few times, then continued, "I wasn't aware about Mr. Lyons' involvement in a murder, and while I cannot ask for the evidence that you'd found concerning the incident, nor am I anywhere within jurisdictional rights, I...I'd like to ask if you're willing to share what you can to me about this and Devlin's...I mean Mr. Lyons' involvement in this, please?"
She looked up very hopefully at Simon, "It's...I have...a personal interest in this now." she added honestly.
"Oh! And if it helps, I was a trained medical examiner and field medic. I can work with forensics."
She fished out a Holobadge that showed her credentials with her details when she was affiliated with CorSec, though Mirian had done her best to erase any connection with the Jedi in the display of the badge.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 17, 2014 17:10:15 GMT -8
He let her slip up with his rank slide, as he was wearing plain clothes after all, and dissected her introduction just as quickly as she was giving it. She used a very peculiar choice of words, specifically the "affiliated with corsec", which meant a civilian with special skills and not a full officer. The "as a lieutenant" was interesting as well, since most civilians would have simply been deputized for the duration of their services and then dismissed, not given an official rank. That probably meant government operative. She was too young to be any kind of a normal specialist, Corsec wouldn't go to anyone who wasn't a leader in their field, and becoming that learned required years of training this girl clearly didn't have. When she brought up being a field medic, that all but sealed the deal. No civilian would have been given a law enforcement rank just for examining bodies and treating the wounded, not unless there was military service involved, and again, she looked too young. That and her body language was that of a total civilian, none of the telltale quirks of military training showing up in the way she moved or acted.
He turned to the desk sergeant. "Run her credentials through the database, just to keep everything on the level." The sergeant nodded and began inputting the information she'd given into the terminal in front of him. Monroe turned back to face Mirian and pulled the death stick from between his lips before speaking.
"Now, if it's not too bold of me to ask, what exactly does a jedi want with our dear Mr Lyons?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2014 18:55:23 GMT -8
Nar:
Act:
Dinner, a wriggling affair, interrupted by shouting. Scowling slightly, Lordran turned an eye to a trio of humans who were being rather noisy. That gaze turned cold as the human that was standing flashed a badge, then began to speak to the seated human male. Surreptitiously, Lordran slipped the sharp kitchen knife off the table, careful to make sure that no one noticed it's disappearance. He needn't have worried though, all too quickly the officer cuffed and escorted the seated male away; leaving the female by herself.
Curious though. The waves that came off the woman. He was not powerful in the force - he was considered rather weak actually, but it was unmistakable the way she influenced her environment. The candles rocked, the woman's face obviously lost in thought...what was she doing? Ah. But then the candles fell over, the fires started - Lordran had the presence of mind to catch the candle on his table - and the fires spread. Panic reigned, patrons screamed and coughed and ran...but Lordran had his answer. He knew how to get Dante's attention now.
As fire burned around him, Lordran continued to eat his worms...heedless of the ash and embers around him: a dark grin slowly stretching it's way across his mouth.
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The cab took it's sweet time to the seedier district of Vandelhelm, and coming by a heavy stun blaster took time as well. Stun guns were handy things: quiet, capable of piercing armor, bolt and blast functions, and best of all - legal. A stun weapon wouldn't raise any eyebrows - they were legal even on planets with the heaviest of weapon restrictions, like Alderaan. Next, a cab - always public transport - he would have to fix that. A cab to the V-sec precinct...and stepping through the doors, he cast about for a terminal or some such. He was curious. What was V-sec composed of? What were it's jurisdictions? And who was the agent at the table? If he could find the agent, perhaps he could find the woman once more...
Oh, but lo and behold...it was the woman. Figured. Someone got arrested, were else did you go? Shaking his head, Lordran leaned against the counter and waited his turn to speak to the receptionist, tapping his foot idly, listening to the ensuing conversation.
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