Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » A CATtastrophe III: Return of the Hani (Closed)

Neoma glanced back at the PI's and nodded.
"Mh. Trust me, I've had worse injuries. These are simply scratches." She shrugged at the woman who seemed to have a quick temper. She glanced at her comrade. " So, what exactly is it I'm keepin' eyes peeled for?" She leaned forward slightly on her stool.

"Heh, same 'ere. Shoulda seen what 'em average sucko looked like after Southpoint-" Sprite answered, not entirely sure what to make of the Elf. She was fine-lookin', she gave her that, but despite their similarity in age range there was something else that reminded her of home too. If anything, she appeared a bit battle-worn. "W'after some big-ass ceremonial urn, looks like an egg with all sortsa weird scribbles on it. Means evidence t'm'guy Rando an' me, an' prime cash for 'tis fuzzy friend'o y's. Guess y'll learn 'nough from listenin' to 'em grown-ups talk."

/ Thw lighter furred youngster took one look at the strangers then at Barrah again before gradually getting by the older Hani’s
Side..increcibly non trusting these people were.

//

Slowly stood up being a little taller then the younger one, she rubbed at her eyes and did a feline stretch with her arms “Alright…”

She began walking to the door stopping for the other woman “I won’t forget that you almost attacked a child because it bumped into you…” she then moved out of the bar into the busy street with all its Wooshing cars followed closely by the younger Hani and hopefully whomever was accompanying them.

// The docks were a lot quieter then the market areas with mainly crewmen rushing around with crates and tools, whines and clicks echo out from the distance.

Number 8 was where the Kitarian Comet was, a somewhat bulky but quick looking ship with a few Hani surrounding it’s rampway where signs of a struggle were showing.

“Captain they took it and ran, flashed some paper while they did it…” another younger Hani said although this one was physically bigger then the awkward teenager thst had thrust past everybody in the bar.

“Grr!” Barrah growled pinching her nose at the sight of fine wines slowly seeping into deck gutters.

Neoma nodded and hopped off her stool. As she walked out, she patted the woman's shoulder. "Alright, well, I'm headin' out. Thanks for the information, boss lady." She grabbed her cloak that was on the coat rack and headed out, pulling her hood up over her head, glancing around for anyone suspicious carrying a box or an egg-shaped vase. Her pupils narrowed into thin slits like those of cat as she searched, stopping random people once in a while asking about suspicious characters but getting nothing. She sighed and rubbed her temples, but she took on this task and she was going to do her best. She was never one to do a job half-@$$ed. It was all or nothing with her.

Aljandro remains unresponsive for a few minutes. He soon lifts his head up, groaning a bit and looking like hes hungover..."U...uh...Yeah, I'm freaking ok...Just had one drink...t-too many..."

"Shiver me scrappin' timbers," Sprite scoffed when the Hani and her gang pushed past, realizing that the lioness's authoritative tone of voice was more than just getting on her nerves. Randle sighed, and tapped her back before he exited after the rest. "Just keep ya mind in the game, kid." === "I jus' can't believe that they're givin' us that much dirt, guy! I mean, even I pulled outta trenchcoat 'tis time an' they still take us for scrappin' swindlers!" Minutes had passed and everyone who claimed to have wanting to help had ran off into their own directions. Randle saw some logic in it; if they spread out across the station, they had a higher chance of catching the thieves somewhere. "Look, Sprite, this part of the galaxy might not be as rough as where you're from, but that's only because folks around here wear paranoia like a warm winter coat. Don't fuss too much over it, I'm sure it's nothing personal." For the time being he was leaving her bad opening words out of consideration. "Elf arn' too bad, though, lone wolf sorta type, but I don' think she'll pull us a mean one if w'happen to ACCIDENTALLY get PISSED because some rude-ass KID runs right into us an'-.. wait, y'hear that?!" Sprite stopped mid-rant; hurried footsteps echoed throughout a nearby dark alley. Fast, but strained, as if they were trying not to drop something.. oh, this better be good! "Hey, wait for me!" Despite having no idea whether or not the footsteps belonged to the thieving Kif in question, Sprite bolted right after the sound face-first, running towards danger like a dehydrated scraprat towards a puddle of freshly expelled piss.

Barrah looked at the two.

“You two make me more nervous every second, now why would the Kif steal this thing so openly huh? They’d need some sort of reason”

The Hani crew people all gathered around, some openly grabbing at their weapons and looking around nervously.

// the young Hani from before was looking over the crates, making a note of the losses.

Seeing as she wasnt getting anything on the vase the farther into the city she went, she turned around, hopped up onto the roofs and searched from up top, humming an old sea shanty one of her squad members had sung once. She was severely displeased with herself, since she had no clues or leads. She continued searching, singing and swearing under her breath.

"Eyy, stop righ' there! Stand scrappin' still an' y'might walk outta 'tis unscathed, y'know!" Of course, Sprite's target wouldn't listen. Both at their top speeds, they winded through dank alleyways, hopping over crumbling brick walls and piles of garbage everywhere they went. "Freeze!" Randle had trouble keeping up, but that allowed him to take in their surroundings a little better; the marketplace was now long behind them, so was the pub that they'd been trying to garner contacts at- at the moment, they were heading straight towards the AstroDocks, where their trusty Rustbucket would be stationed. Maybe if he gave a heads-up to Artie and Z back in their ship, they could try to intercept their suspect and- WOAH! With a thunderous crash!, Randle tripped over a ruined fire escape that lay sprawled across the backstreet floor, and smacked to the concrete face first. Growling, more out of frustration than pain - sometimes it was a good thing he'd never had pseudonerves installed onto him.. -, he tried to crawl back to his feet, but by the time the old gumshoe managed to, Sprite's and the assumed thief's footsteps were long gone. He chased after their scent trails anyway, hoping to prevent his buddy from doing something reckless if she did manage to catch their suspect along the way. And there they were: the ramshackle Meetpoint Station hangars were as charming as ever. With more visible lights, Sprite could see that she was indeed on the right track- ahead of her ran a reeking hooded figure, clutching in his arms nothing less than an urn-shaped object wrapped in dull cloth. "Eyy, stop 'em stealin' sucko!" she roared, pushing past person after person now that she and the thief'd become stuck in a flow of workers streaming out of a newly arrived transport ship. Shit.. losing sight of him! So close, so close! He couldn't get away now, could he?! "Argh!" Were where those unlikely allies of theirs when they needed them? Or the Boomer Cat, for that matter?!

As Neoma was heading to the docs, still on the rooftops, she saw the woman from the bar earlier and the strange hooded figure running away. She tried looking for her comrade, but didnt see him anywhere. She decided to take matters into her own hands. As the figure ran below her, she dropped down and yanked on their hood hard enough to make them smash against the ground, throwing the urn-like object into the air. With her lead war boots, she placed a foot on the thieve's chest and carefully caught the object. She than decided to sit on the thief until the woman caught up, the thief struggling beneath her. Adding a bit of authority and a no b.s. sort of tone to her already decently heavy Russian accent she said to them, "Best not to struggle, not unless you wanna take nap for a few hours?" Her pupils became slits once again as she glared down at them.

Was not sure how the crazy woman did it but she had found the thief, immediately fearing the loss of a prized item she began a sprint over crates and annoyed aliens, moving at increasing speeds through the docks.

The Thief was slowly getting bigger in her vision for now, she could shoot at the theif and risk the station alarms…another thing she couldn’t be associated with.

“Stop!” She howled ofer the station noise

Immediately she kicked the theif with a clawed foot “explain yourself asshole!”

Almost.. almost! And- DAMMIT! Muscle buldging under her nicked skin, Sprite launched herself towards her target to tackle him, only to be caught by someone else mid-air. Four pairs of evil grabby bug talons clawed at her chest and throat 'till she and her surprise assailant crashed into a rackety tower of crates nearby. Ware-hauling workers fled the scene, barrels rolled everywhere.. but when the dust settled, Sprite had what appeared to be a cloaked ant-person pinned to the ground. Hand around its throat and her axe at the ready, she was prepared to crack its skull into debris, if it wasn't for a sudden familiar distraction racing past. Randle?! Swish! No sooner than Sprite looked away from her opponent, it threw a handful of sand into her eyes and disappeared, leaving her only with its battered black mantle. Oh, by the Gods! "Good grief, great job there, kid!" Randle yelled as he ran towards the Moon Elf and their floored target. "You alright? No cracks on the urn I ho- HEY NOW!" He growled, and grabbed the Hani woman by the shoulder when she kicked a tooth out of their mutual suspect's maw. "Ain't no need to overdo this! Your friend here already did plenty to show him his place." Sure, the lioness wasn't Sprite, but that didn't mean he'd let her get away with needless violence any easier. Having said that, where was that spunky pal of his at? "Eyy! Get anythin' outta t'sucko yet?! Got scrappin' sanded for this, look!" Speak of the devil; Sprite came running to the scene at last, holding an inky black cape in her hand that bore a red symbol.. a symbol not unlike what the thief was wearing on his. Great, a club. "Kiss my moldy behind!" spat the thief, struggling to lift his bruised-up head off the ground. "I already showed ya the proper papers, and that's all I gotta say!" Not only was there hatred in his nasal voice, no, there was a hint of fear as well. Not for them, despite all of them looking equal amounts of threatening.. it was something else, something that waited for him to make the wrong move or say the wrong things. "Now let me go, or I'll have Dock Command kick all of your tails threefold!"

Neoma rolled her eyes at the thief. As she stood up, she made sure to keep her lead boot on his chest. She nodded towards the feline man, than unwrapped the urn, checking for any cracks. When she finished examining it, she shook her head 'no', and as the thief spoke, she gave him her typical 'Hardened War General' glare. His voice already annoying the hell out of her, making her grit her teeth.

Had struggled quite a bit against the other cat, Seems hani women were a lot stronger then earth ones.

She picked up the Papers, flicking through them “This isn’t ownership..seems some “ she squints her eyes to pronounce thd Kif name “Kalhukknt….wanted to sneak off with this vase for whatever reason” she folds her arms.

“Gods rot it all!” The woman exclaims

"No shit," Sprite snarked, slinging the fabric piece of evidence over her shoulder. "But I doubta sucko 'tis ugly'd know whadda do with a fancy urn like that. So, real question oughta be 'ere- who exactly were y'haulin' t'piece for, huh?" She leaned towards their suspect, ready to repeat history and do the exact same thing Randle's scolded the Hani for earlier. There was no playing nice in her book as far as red-handed thieves were concerned. "Pfft, no one you people could hope to outbid, that's for sure.." the thief sputtered. He seemed to have made peace with his situation, remaining flat on his back with Neoma's boot on his chest. Didn't mean he looked comfortable, though- the fear from earlier was still there, and his beady eyes flicked from corner to corner with hidden paranoia. "Listen, I don't know and I don't care what the urn means to you, but it's your best frickin' bet to let it slide, okay? We win, you lose. This isn't the sort of bizz a bunch of wretches like you would want to get involved with." Wretches?! Look who was talking! Sprite put a knee to the ground, teeth bared and staring right into the suspect's eyes. "T'hell y'callin' us..?!" "Nice try, but I'll never be more scared of you than I'll be of the guy who sent me. Give up. Let me go." Man, this guy had hubris! Once again Sprite felt drawn to her axe, and more specifically, to using it to gut the Kif's throat open like a celebration roast. "W'll see 'bout that!" A large hand wrapped around her bicep, and dragged her back to her feet. Dammit, Randle.. "Let's play this the smart way, shall we?" "Look, we got all we need now- the question is how we're gonna move from here on out," he continued, now turning to the Elf and Hani as well. "You want the urn for a happy buck, we want it for a quick look. If anything, this guy might as well be just as valuable as the vase to us, even if he doesn't look like it." There wasn't a doubt in Randle's mind that whoever'd employed the Kif thief was more interested in the possible evidence pieces leading to the agent than they were in classic Veloxian urn designs; which made their suspect an asset indeed. He didn't worry about Neoma too much, she'd proved her mettle and willingness to help, but he felt like the Hani needed more talking to before this exchange of urn and POI could go smoothly. "How about you take the urn back to your ship, and we take this here fella to ours? If ya happen to find anything inside that's not supposed to be there, it'd be a pleasure if you told us." Did that sound like a deal to her?

Shook her head, tapping the kif’s snout once or twice with her foot.

“No, they’ll just leave and this guy will probably find a way to kill himself in the cargo hold.

This Guy will feel mighty embarrassed that a Hani and a couple of foreigners even know he’s doing this, and they’ll probably kill this creature when he comes back empty handed and I can’t leave here till it’s resolved ”

The Hani thought for a second turning to the rather aggressive one.

“You know..it would be an awful shame if you hacked one of his arms off..and he had to stay in hospital on station wouldn’t it?”

"Well, if you want in on the closure, I won't deny ya that. Let's look for some neutral grounds to interrogate-" With a gracious slash of an axe, it was done. "Goddess's sake Sprite, really?!" The Kif bellowed out in pain when he saw his forearm land in a puddle of his own grimy blood. "Y'know, maybe y'ideas arn' bad all t'time," Sprite smirked to the Hani, and put her weapon away. From the corner of her eye she saw Randle grab his forehead, not sure whether he had to be enraged, disappointed or both at once. "Hope y'got a good excuse to give 'em MedTroops when they roll 'round. Y'cool with hangin' onto that vase, Neoma? I don' mind draggin' 'tis piece of bleedin' shit along." Now with her head in the game for once, Sprite gave the Elf a nudge and went to pick up their suspect, slinging his writhing body over her shoulder. He was small, though definitely stout- nothing she couldn't handle. In the meantime, Randle'd recovered from her stupidity. "Right.. which way's the hospital around here?"

"You know, even in a trafficked hub like Meetpoint, a cluster like this is boud to draw attention", a bemused voice called out behind them.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, the long white robes making her look eerily ghost-like for a split second. But this was no ghost. From behind an ornate vixen-like mask, two dark human eyes regarded the group, floating indifferently over the thief, but lighting up with good natured amusement at the sight of Randle and Sprite.

"I thought I had recognized you guys... seems we hunters never meet in mundane occasions like a tea party, huh?" she asked, the faint echo of a chuckle to her words as she gave the tall detective and his assistant a greeting nodd. Then she glanced back at Barrah and Neoma... and only then, her eyes fell on the bloodied shape astride Sprite's shoulder - and the chopped arm on the ground. "Geez, do I want to know what did I miss?" she asked, hard to say if that spark in her eyes was a chuckle she was trying to hold back or a '...for real?' expression. "... Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Sprite, but if that guy doesn't have cybernetics all over him, you'd better stop that blood loss before it offs him for good." Which, she imagined, was not the point, since otherwise a bullet in the head would have been lots faster and more manageable.

Leans down to the Kif, she pulls her weapon out and lowers its setting, cauterising the arm with a sickening smell of burning Kif flesh which seemed to mimic rotten milk to a impressive degree.

The Hani put on a kinder voice, the translators couldn’t do the rolling Rs and gentle sounds justice.

“Now now..you get taken care of..and your boss can’t kill you while this guy is questioning you..gods, you could get a particle beam grafted onto thst stump” she lets him once before several of the crew start to lift him up, pushing him along the deck. From the growing foul smelling mess.



“Put your axe somewhere, they won’t let it in the hospital”