Undercover
Ian Booker stood on the corner of the street, hunched over his cigarette to protect it from the pouring rain. It wasn't a real cigarette, of course, since those hadn't been made in centuries, but it was a convincing hologram nonetheless. Ian had no interest in smoking, either.
When he had first been stationed on this forsaken planet last year, he had been the sole human in a spaceport full of tentacles and eyestalks, and he made the decision right then and there to keep human traditions alive. So, there he was, a regular beat cop in a trenchcoat, glowering out into the night under a streetlamp with a cigarette hanging off of his lip. Cars passing by would probably think someone painted a cop novel cover and left it on the side of the street, he mused. He even had the graying hair, crow's feet, and leathery brown skin to sell the look. The seven foot tall, bubblegum pink cyclops next to him, however, threw off the vibe a bit. "We're on stakeout, Yametta. Do you think you could be a little less conspicuous?" Ian hissed as he pulled his wide-brimmed fedora down a little further. "Then no one would get to see my new Praustiche vest," Yametta replied, pointing to the gaudy logo that ran across the red fabric. "Nargul said it looked better without the gold trim, but I couldn't resist." Ian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Y'know, it's a miracle you yahoos ever solved a single case before I got here," he sighed. Yametta pouted a bit but didn't respond. She and Nargul had been the sole representatives of the Alpha Guardians on the planet for quite some time, and while their success rate hadn't been great in the recent years, she didn't feel like it warranted sending such a stick-in-the-mud to constantly ruin their good time. A rumbling combustion engine cut Yametta's reverie short. "Big truck, artifact tech. Heading southeast on 23rd," Ian muttered into his collar. "Understood. It doesn't have a tracker, so I'll monitor with your badge cams and you guys pursue on foot," Nargul's voice crackled in Ian and Yametta's earpieces. While the two of them were more or less beat cops, Nargul was their dispatch, keeping them organized and relaying crucial information. The two cops exchanged looks. "I'll go through the back alleys to follow it. You circle around to 32nd and Kriln and intercept there," Ian said, starting off across the street. Yametta grabbed his shoulder. "Uh-uh. You'll get lost, or mugged, or both. I've lived here all my life. I'm taking the alleys," she said, pulling him back onto the curb. Ian gritted his teeth and sighed. "I know you're technically the senior detective here, but you're not exactly dressed for covert pursuit," he said. "Trust me, plenty of people dress like this in shady places around here. Besides," she said with a wink, a single ember sparkling next to her eye, "what're they gonna do if they catch me?" Ian sighed in resignation. Yametta took off towards the back of a nearby restaurant, giving him a half-salute as she ran. After taking one last drag on his holo-cigarette, he flicked it into the street, where it shimmered out of existence. Just because the cigarettes were fake didn't mean he was any better at running the long way around, he thought as he started down the side roads to the rendezvous point.
"Hey, looks like they had a change in plans," radioed Yametta from behind a dumpster. Out in the street, the truck had stopped by the curb and two burly-looking aliens had climbed out. They were tall, blue, and had two pairs of arms that jutted out from their shoulders like cliff faces. Their brutish look was capped off by their jagged mouths that looked more like demented knife racks than teeth. "Looks like two ayaki, both female, about 200 pounds, both hired to stand there and look tough. One on the left is cute--" "Yametta..." Nargul hissed. "--okay, the other one is like, a 7/10, but still--" "Yametta!" "Alright, alright! We're between 28th and 29th, right outside a tailor's, shop's name is 'The Slimporeum'," Yametta snapped. "Thank you. Gods below, woman, it's like you don't want me to know things. Ian, take your next right and follow that road to the new intercept point," Nargul growled, frantic typing clicking through her microphone. "I'll be there," Ian said through poorly suppressed gasps. "You better be," Yametta said, eyeing the truck as surreptitiously as she could. They were facing away from the alley entrance, so she could get across the street and in front of the truck, then come around curbside and fry the first one before the second one... "Oi, Yametta, you sure are bold showing your face 'round here!" Yametta's head whipped around to face the voice from deeper in the alley. There, at the far wall and sporting a spiked leather jacket, stood a scrawny blue alien - another ayaki. She knew this one, though. "Ah, Tinga. Long time no see," Yametta said, her eye flicking nervously between him and over her shoulder. "Yeah, real long time. Almost long enough to forget that you owe me a grand," Tinga said, his smile devoid of warmth. The two sized each other up, Yametta's fists clenched and Tinga's hand on his pocket. "Can we do this later? I'm in the middle of a case." "Not my problem, toots. What is my problem is if I come back to the boss and say I didn't collect from someone who's overdue, big time." Tinga's hand slipped into his pocket and closed around something. "Us working stiffs with ACTUAL jobs take a little longer to pull together a spare grand, y'know. Tell your boss he'll get his money." "Not good enough," Tinga snarled. Before the gun had even left his pocket, a gout of flame leaped from Yametta's outstretched fist, slamming him into the wall. Two more fiery punches sailed through the air and pounded him through the wall and into the storage room on the other side. Yametta winced with each echoing blast. There was no way the ayaki guarding the truck hadn't heard them. Sure enough, two doors slammed as she sprinted to the mouth of the alley. The squeal of rubber on pavement rang out as the truck tore away from the curb. "For fuck's sake, Tinga, you're a nuisance even when you're unconscious," Yametta cursed as she rubbed her temple. "Nice job staying subtle," Ian said, making Yametta jump with his sudden appearance. "When the hell did you get here?" she demanded, towering over him with a massive scowl on her face. "Just a second ago. I was going to radio you but you seemed... preoccupied. Old friend?" "What do you think?" "I dunno. The guys and I back home would give each other a hard time constantly. Figured you cyclopes just had a higher bar for that stuff," Ian said, cracking a smile for the first time that night. Yametta didn't reciprocate the gesture. "Very funny. Thanks to him, we're back to square one." "Hm. I wouldn't say square one," Ian said, strolling across the street to stoop by the curb where the truck had been parked. "Looks like you spooked 'em bad enough that they got sloppy." He held up a tiny plastic rectangle for his partner to take. "A credit chit?" Yametta asked, incredulous. "Thank Shamaa, you two goons managed to find an actual clue!" Nargul hid none of the disdain in her voice. "Hold it up to your badge, I'll scan it in and run the previous transactions to see if we can nail any fronts they might be visiting." "Good idea. Speaking of, why do you think they were parked here?" Yametta mused, looking around at the boarded up windows of 'The Slimporeum' while she put the credit chit in her vest pocket. The tiny patch of green in front of the building was wild and unkempt, with trash built up in the entrance alcove. Safe to say, she thought, the place was abandoned. "Beats me. Maybe it's a safehouse? No one's going in there without a damn good reason," Ian said, tapping a button on the inside of his coat to summon up a holographic cigarette. The two of them stared at the door for several long seconds. A loud bang startled both of them to attention. A young ayaki was running down the road towards them, his mother yelling for him from behind a slammed screen door. "Hey! Hey! You guys can't go in there! That place is haunted as all getout!" The child reached Ian and tugged on his sleeve, urging him to get away. "Haunted, eh?" A thoughtful look crossed Ian's face, and he turned to glance at Yametta. "Sounds like we might have some ghost busting to do." "Ghost... busting? What does that even mean?" she replied, raising her eyebrow. "Y'know, bustin' makes me feel good? The poet Aykroyd? No? Ah, forget it. Old human thing." He rolled his eyes. "Let's head back to HQ. We're gonna need some spiritual reinforcement." "Way ahead of you," Nargul cackled through the radio. She hopped down off of her computer chair on her squat, froglike legs and ambled over to a pile of crystalline skeletons. Admiring her mottled green skin in the reflection, she smiled. "Rise and shine, lovelies!" she called, kicking the pile. The pile groaned in response. "Come now, you've rested for almost a week. Up and at 'em." "One hundred and fifteen years of servitude, you'd think we would earn a break now and then," came a hollow voice from the jumble of bones. Another, higher, voice responded. "Oh, stuff it, Ron, working for the Interplanetary Defense Force beats where those other poor souls ended up." "Yeah, yeah, keep your femurs on, Harriet," Ron said, assembling himself from the bone pile, twisting a crystalline skull into place. Next to him, another skeleton stood, dislodging bones from its ribcage. "Alright, Ron and Harriet, your job is to run spiritual interception for Ian and Yametta at a class B residential haunting. The specter is currently unobserved, so I'm sending two of you just in case. Any questions?" Nargul looked up at the two skeletons, arms crossed expectantly. "How much paid leave do I have left?" Ron said, raising his hand. Harriet whacked the back of his skull, sending it spinning. "She meant about the mission, bonehead," Harriet said. Ron grabbed his head and spun it the right way around again. "No questions, master." Ron put enough venom on the last word to kill an elephant. Nargul laughed. "Then off you go. Ian and Yametta will meet you on the scene. Remember, you don't get paid if the specter escapes!" With her final command, Nargul trundled over to a box of chalk beside the pile of crystal bones. From it, she withdrew a piece of dusty red chalk, a sprig of heather, and a handful of dried ground mint leaves. She cast the mint powder across the earth before the two skeletons, murmuring an incantation as she indicated towards the dust with the heather. Moving quickly, she drew a circle with the chalk around the mint powder, a cool azure glow starting to fade in around her. The spell was complete. Nargul clapped her hands, and like clockwork, the two skeletons stepped in unison into the circle and stepped out onto a city street. Reflexively, Ron reached out to grab Harriet's arm. "I don't have a stomach anymore, but I'll be damned if it doesn't get turned by that spell every time," he said. Harriet straightened him up. "Look alive, Ron. We have company," she said, gesturing to Ian and Yametta. "Oh, stars above, she sent Ron again? Why can't we get Thomas or Nancy? They have a sense of humor," Yametta said, sticking out her tongue at the skeletons. "I come back from the grave to help you out, and that's the welcome I get?" Ron retorted, moving his head as if he were rolling his eyes. The two of them burst out laughing and embraced, Yametta lifting the much smaller skeleton in her arms before setting him down again. "How the hell are you, old man?" "You'd think the aches and pains would go away after the body does, but hey, I'm still here! What kind of mess have you kids gotten yourselves into today?" "Two suspects, both female ayaki, were seen conducting suspicious business in front of this building," Ian explained, gesturing up towards the sign for the "Slimporeum". "We seem to be dealing with a class B nonmalignant specter, unknown duration of haunting. The locals seem pretty spooked by it. That's where you come in. You go in, sweep the immediate area, and we'll file in behind you to do some investigation. Sound good?" Ron and Harriet nodded. Yametta turned to address the three of them. "If things get... weird in there, I'll provide covering fire while we retreat. It's a recon mission, not whatever Ian said--" "We aren't busting ghosts," he interrupted, smiling as he looked at Harriet knowingly. She flashed two finger guns from her hips. "Too bad. I was hoping for some supernatural showdowns today," she said. It was Yametta's turn to sigh. "Whatever, you nerds. Ron and Harriet, to the front. Ian, silver bullets loaded? Good. Places, everyone." The odd group lined up beside the entrance. Ron raised a hand to the rest, a silent countdown on his fingers. On zero, he pulled the door open and jumped inside, followed quickly by Harriet. The antechamber that greeted them was lit only by the slice of light from the cracked door behind them. From their position beside the door, Ron and Harriet could just make out a receptionist's counter, long abandoned and covered in unattended paperwork. The walls were lined with paintings of vague tropical landscapes. Chairs in varying stages of disuse dotted the floor. At the far end of the room, a doorless archway trailed off into darkness. "Room is clear, but definitely haunted," Ron said, leaning back out of the door, "and I don't mean because it has two skeletons in it." Ian and Yametta entered the building behind them, gun and flame raised, sweeping the room again to confirm the skeletons' assessment. "Spectral analysis is off the charts," Nargul said to the team through their earpieces. "Don't need to tell me twice. Hair on the back of my neck is stiff as a board. Keep us posted for any spikes in apparition magic," Ian said, gripping his pistol tighter. The squad made their way across the empty room. As if on cue, the door to the outside creaked closed. Harriet jumped and grabbed Ron's arm. Yametta tapped her earpiece with a frown. "Anyone else getting interference on their headsets?" she said. Ian did the same, with similar results. "Specter must have cut off our wireless signal. Proceed with caution; it knows we're here," Ian said, his ghost-related mirth replaced with his usual stony demeanor. Yametta swallowed to steady her nerves. After a quick sweep of the room from the middle, they proceeded towards the hallway. Harriet stopped them at the threshold. "That isn't regular no-lights darkness in there, honey. It's magical darkness. I can't see a thing," she said. Ian and Yametta exchanged nervous glances. "We've come to avenge you," called Ian into the dark. Several seconds passed with no response. "We're here to... lay your remains to rest?" He pulled a grubby notepad out of his trenchcoat pocket and paged through it. "We're here to reconnect you with your loved ones. We've come to repossess this land. We want to desecrate this holy place." Every line he tried was followed by a few seconds of silence. Finally, he flipped ahead a few pages and took a deep breath. "We're here to make a bargain," Ian said, and the texture of the words felt different, as if they were pressed into the velvet of the darkness before them. The air around them grew cold. Ron stepped forward and raised a hand. "That lifted a barrier," he said, tracing the outline of some invisible structure in the air. "Then it's at least a third-circle demon," Ian said, his voice soaked in dread. Like an ancient wooden response, a door at the far end of the hallway opened, spilling the light of sickly green fire into view. A low, rumbling voice called out from the doorway. "Astute observation, Mr. Booker. Do come in." "Local omniscience. Make that a fourth-circle demon. We're in for a long day, team," Ian said, holstering his gun. Yametta lowered her hands and extinguished her fire. "I give it five sentences before it tries to bargain for your soul," Yametta said. "I got a lady back home that I have to answer to, and I'm more afraid of her than I am of this thing," Ian replied, flipping up the collar on his trenchcoat and starting his way down the long hallway towards the demon's door. Pale green flames bobbed through the air around the demon, seated comfortably at a mahogany desk that was untouched compared to the rest of the building. The flames cast a pall over the room that made the portraits that covered the walls look washed out and tired. Despite their light, the room felt dark. Not the kind of dark where there isn't enough light to see, but the kind of dark that works to muscle in where light should be. Ian kept his eyes fixed on the demon. Its body was comprised of a large charcoal-colored cylinder, with eyes running in winding seams up and down its sides and two leathery wings folded at odd angles to its sides. It was a bizarre and upsetting sight to behold. Ian conjured up another holographic cigarette. "Mr. Booker, I have--" "Guardian Booker, actually. IPDF, special supernatural division," Ian said, digging out his badge and flipping it open towards the demon. The seams of eyes all over its body blinked in unison. Ron and Harriet jumped through the door behind him, waving their arms erratically, and the green flames winked out of existence. Yametta ducked through the doorway last, cracking her neck as she straightened to her full seven and a half foot height. "You're under arrest for unlawful haunting of a private property, bargain-striking with intent to soulmonger, and two counts of inciting terror in the local populace. Anything you say or conjure can and will be used against you in a court of law," Ian rambled off his script, flicking on the flashlight on his badge. The demon's eyes flared bright green and it began to rise into the air. "FOOLISH MORTAL! EYCRAYUS THE UNSHACKLED WILL NOT--" There was a dull thunk as its hard body fell back into its seat. Harriet lowered her arms, two fists full of glimmering purple sparks casting a lavender glow over the demon. "What witchcraft is this? I am EYCRAYUS! IT THAT SWALLOWED A MILLION CITIES! I HAVE MY RIGHTS!" the demon bellowed, its wings beating ineffectually behind it. Ian walked towards the desk, a pair of handcuffs dangling from one hand. "You sure do, buddy. Let me read them off to you while we get you ready for transport," Ian said. The demon's body burst open, a maw of endless teeth gaping over Ian's head, forcing him to backpedal. Spindly legs of darkness coalesced around it and grabbed whatever they could. The demon launched itself at Ian mouth-first. Yametta crashed into its side, sending the two of them rolling in a flurry of fists and gnashing teeth. An unholy screech split the air. Ron ran to Yametta's aid, deadening the lights in the demon's eyes when they flashed with rage. Harriet stood by Ian, checking him over. "Are you alright, love?" she asked him, concern in her voice. "Yeah, didn't get me too bad," Ian said, looking at the tear in his jacket. A bloodstain was growing below the tear, and he winced as he touched it. "Nothing a bandage won't take care of." A loud crack made the two of them look up towards the battle behind the desk. Yametta had her arms around one of the demon's terrible jaws, and a thick ochre fluid oozed from fractures in its hide. Ron held its lower jaw back with rune-covered bindings he had conjured from the floor. Between the two of them, the demon was scrabbling at the floor for purchase with its shadow limbs, screeching in rage, its wings flapping enough to rattle the paintings on the wall. "Harriet, help them subdue that thing. I'll look for something to deal with it in its desk," Ian said, pulling up his torn sleeve and standing. Harriet nodded and began channeling another set of bindings to secure the demon. Ian dashed to the mahogany desk, rifling through the drawers, scanning for anything that could give them an edge. Bone idol? No. Scroll of human skin? No, wrong hell prince's seal. There. In the bottom drawer. An obsidian dagger, inlaid with silver, carved to resemble a snake's tongue. Ian snatched it from its nest of paperwork and lobbed it at Yametta. "Catch!" he yelled, and Yametta snatched the dagger out of the air. "In the name of Shamaa, Mistress of the Night and Shepherd of Lost Souls, we consign you to the endless void from whence you were forged!" Ian chanted the invocation as quickly as he could, and as he finished the last word, Yametta plunged the dagger into a crack in the demon's carapace. Ochre fluid spattered across her arm and onto the floor. The room seemed to bend inwards for a moment. Then the demon exploded. White light surged out of its mouth, its eyes, every crack and hole in its skin, flinging Yametta and Ron to opposite sides of the room. Its broken body contorted and folded in on itself, each movement accompanied by a sickening snap. The demon folded itself out of existence, its hissing cut off by reality reasserting itself. A minute passed before anyone spoke. "Fourth-circles usually talk a lot more before going chompy. Something had this one riled up," Yametta said. She hoisted herself up against a file cabinet and glanced over her wounds. Her natural cyclopean healing had already taken over, the puncture wounds from the demon's teeth sealing over as she watched. Ron stretched and hobbled over to Harriet. "Next time, spend a little less time fawning over the mortals and a little more time wrapping up the demon, eh?" he said. "You're certainly not going to check on them, so someone has to!" she retorted, crossing her arms. The two of them bickered back and forth as Ian sat down in the chair by the desk. "There's gotta be a reason those ayaki were coming to see this demon..." Ian mused, flipping through the papers in the drawers. A dog-eared piece of parchment caught his eye. The ink had a familiar reddish tinge, and at the bottom was a signature with no shortage of flourishes. He picked it up and glanced at the wording. It was some sort of legal document. "Looks like our perp here had a deal with a high-ranking lady in the crime world," Ian said, spinning slowly in the chair as he read. "The name on the contract is definitely an alias, but what she was bargaining for was... in all honesty, pretty benign. It says here that in exchange for the souls of twenty-five ayaki and one postmortal, one Ms. Blundersnout is to receive ownership of the Tarot chain of hotels? If she's a crime lord of any repute, she could just pull a hostile takeover, couldn't she?" "It sounds like our jobs are done here," interjected Ron, dusting himself off and wandering towards the door. "You kids have fun playing cops and robbers. I'll be off collecting my well-earned Z's after another job well done." "It's been lovely, dears," Harriet said, following him towards the door. "Likewise, missus," Yametta said with a smile. "And Ron, make sure you have Nargul go over your bones real close after the mission. Gotta make sure you didn't strain your hand with all the patting yourself on the back you're doing." "Hey, someone has to do the heavy lifting around here, might as well be me," Ron said, giving a knowing nod that would have been a wink if he still had eyelids. The two skeletons filed out of the room, leaving Yametta and Ian to peruse the demon's belongings. "So, what do you think? Insurance fraud?" Yametta asked, scratching her head as she stared at the contract Ian had unearthed. "Insurance fraud is what desperate people do when they're short on cash. None of the postmortal crime lords even know what 'poor' means. If you ask me, there's gotta be something on that land that our Ms. Blundersnout wants without anyone being the wiser about it," Ian said as he leaned back in the chair. There were a lot of unknown variables in the equation, he thought, and he had always hated math. "Sounds like it's time to do a little more legwork. What do you wanna bet that there's a big artifact truck parked out back behind the Tarot hotel?" Yametta said. "I'm not a betting man, but I have a feeling you'd win that wager," Ian said. He put his feet up on the desk and swapped his holographic cigarette to a cigar. "You know, I could get used--" He was cut short by the thunk of crystal against wood. A glimmering purple skull rolled into the room from the hallway. "We got company," Ron said, his skull hopping up and down with each word. Gunfire tore into the room. Yametta caught three bullets across her chest, while Ian ducked below the desk before a spray of lead tore open the chair where he had been sitting. "Aww, c'mon! I was gonna take that chair!" Ian yelled from under the desk. Yametta staggered to the desk and upended it, sending paperwork scattering across the floor in front of her makeshift barrier. She dropped to the floor next to Ian. "We'll requisition a new one when we get back to base," Yametta said through gritted teeth. She lit up her hands with arcane fire. Ian produced his pistol and crawled to the other end of the desk. "Awright, we know youse in there! Come out an' play!" said a gruff voice from the hallway. Yametta looked over to Ian, and they nodded. "Okay, but a word of warning: we play rough!" Yametta shouted as she vaulted over the desk. Two bolts of fire leaped from her hands and sailed into the darkness. Ian popped up and unloaded six shots after them, a tight cluster at chest height. As though she was the third volley, Yametta crashed out into the hallway, fists flying. In the supernatural darkness, her hands found purchase on some sort of fabric, and she yanked two figures into the light. Each was an ayaki dressed in sharp-looking suits, somewhat marred by scorch marks and bullet holes. Ian broke out of the cover and ran towards the crowd in the doorway. With a roar, Yametta slammed their heads together, stunning them for long enough that Ian could push past them into the hallway. "Youse gonna pay for that!" one of the ayaki slurred, shoving Yametta back into one of the file cabinets. The other ayaki charged her and crashed his fist into her jaw. Yametta grunted in pain and ducked under his next unsteady blow. Her motion carried her down to the ayaki who had her pinned to the file cabinet, and she put both hands on his sides. Fire erupted from underneath him, and with a yelp, he jumped off of her and flung himself to the ground. "A little help, guys!" Yametta called into the hallway. Ian stopped in the foyer and turned to see the battle unfolding poorly behind him. Around him, the scattered remains of Ron and Harriet lay motionless. "Harriet! Still with us?" Ian said, kneeling. "Oh my stars... yes, dearie, but I'm a little out of sorts," said a skull from beside him. "That's alright. Can you still cast spells?" "I suppose so, but what--" "Great. Get ready," Ian said as he scooped Harriet's skull up and sprinted back to the room. The two ayaki had Yametta cornered behind the desk. She looked past them at the doorway, and her eye went wide. "Heads up!" Ian yelled as he brandished Harriet's skull at the two thugs. Her eye sockets lit with brilliant azure light and a blazing beam of blue flame burst forth from her mouth, barreling into the room. Yametta ducked behind the desk just in time for the fire to sail over her head. The two ayaki cried out in surprise and dove aside, their suits alight with spectral flame. "Not bad for a disembodied head," Harriet said, giggling to herself. "I'll say. Yametta, move! Grab Ron's head and hightail it outta here!" Ian called, waving her over as he turned to run again. In the foyer, Ian hastily gathered as many bones as he could, a demented bundle growing in his arms. With a shout, Yametta charged into the room, Ron's skull in hand, and hoisted Ian under her free arm. "Nargul can grow more! Those goons are gonna be in here any second!" Yametta said, kicking the door off its hinges on her way out. Startled ayaki looked on from their homes as she, Ian, and the two skulls roared into the street. "Nargul! We need a transport STAT!" Yametta yelled, her earpiece crackling to life. "Yametta? Where in the nine--" Nargul began, but Ian cut her short. "We have two armed suspects in hot pursuit, we need transport!" he shouted into his earpiece. "Sending two lightwaves to your location," Nargul said. "Get back here!" Yametta looked over her shoulder to see the two ayaki, burned and bruised, stumbling out of the doorway. She hefted Ian in her hand and tossed him to his feet. Despite her regenerative abilities, Yametta was wounded, and Ian wasn't quick to begin with. The ayaki were gaining on them. "Lightwaves, coming in hot!" Ian said, jabbing a finger at the two points of light tearing towards them down the street. Yametta hurled a fireball over her shoulder to slow the oncoming thugs. With a roar, two sleek, white motorcycles drew up alongside them. Ian clambered aboard the first one, stowing Harriet's skull in a compartment under the seat. Yametta hauled herself onto the second motorcycle, its motors whining to accommodate the seven-foot cyclops. One of the ayaki leaped at her, sinking his nails into the metal of the motorcycle's chassis. Yametta kicked at his arms as she tried to accelerate, but the combined weight of two musclebound aliens was too much for the lightweight bike. The ayaki dragged himself up towards Yametta. He grasped at her vest, its fabric tearing at the seams. Yametta pulled back on the vest, but it gave way, ripping off of her shoulders and sending the ayaki tumbling to the street. "That was a Praustiche vest, you bastard!" Yametta shouted at the rapidly disappearing form of the ayaki. "And on a cop's salary, too..." "We'll claim it on the damages report. Just be glad you made it out alive," Ian said through his earpiece. "When we find those goons' boss, I'm gonna pound the two thousand credits she owes me outta her with a hammer." "Revenge always makes for the best cop movies," Ian said. Yametta laughed, and the two of them sped off down the street towards the IPDF station.
