After they had discovered that the Lord Admiral's corpse was missing from the supposedly tamper-proof cryocasket, Ximeno suspected his assistant of somehow swiping the body. Edmund cornered the assistant into a corner of the hallway and flashed the symbol of the Admiralty on his communicator to her. The poor woman, only slightly taller than Merrion and half dead with panic upon sight of that symbol, immediately spilled out everything she knew. It wasn't much.
Ximeno had been handling an autopsy when the delivery arrived, and she had no choice but to receive the body. Nothing had seemed too off about the delivery, except that she couldn't open it to check its contents. Thinking nothing of it, she authorized its transfer to the clinic. A quick scan of the drawer with Merrion's communicator indicated that it had arrived in the Mahoney earlier that day, passing through its cargo terminal before its transfer to the clinic.
---
Merrion: "Did you really have to be so rough with that poor woman? From the looks of it, she would have just told us even if we were gentle. You might've scarred her."
"I didn't hurt her. I simply acted decisively. We're not here to be friendly with everyone, we have a job to do." Edmund looked at Merrion. "At least if I play the bad cop, you could help by being the good cop."
Merrion suddenly spotted a figure in the distance waving towards them. She informed Edmund, and as the two got closer to the figure, they saw that it was a plump-looking man wearing a high-visibility space suit but forgoing the helmet.
Suited Man: "Are you the cops? Finally, you're here, I'd thought they had forgotten about us!"
Merrion glanced over to Edmund.
Merrion (whispering): "Do you know what's going on?"
Edmund: "Nope. Let's just play along."
Edmund immediately morphed his stern look into a more acceptable friendly expression.
Edmund: "Yes, that's us. You are?"
Suited Man: "I am the dockmaster. The men call me Derrick. Guess you can call me that too."
Edmund: "Derrick then. I'm Detective Edmund, and this is Detective Merrion. We're with the Fleet Investigation Division."
Derrick: "They didn't tell me they were sending two detectives."
Edmund: "Plans change, I guess. What's the matter?"
Now that they were closer to Derrick, they noticed several scratches on his face. Some of these looked fresher than the others; the skin appearing raw and reddened. Merrion felt her curiosity beckon her to ask.
Merrion: "Mr. Derrick, those scratches –"
Derrick: "Derrick will do just fine, ma'am. I got this in the incident earlier. Come with me."
The three of them walked towards the left side of the room, passing by several stacked cargo frames packed with netted items.
Derrick: "My team and I were handling an urgent unscheduled delivery. Cargo manifest indicated it was sent via high-speed transfer from the 9th Sector, destined for the morgue aboard the Mahoney. The cargo frame was coming in through that airlock at the aft end. That was when some guys got the drop on us. Gave us quite a shock, but we managed to fend them off. Even knocked out one of them filthy thugs. After seeing that scumbag drop, the rest of those cowards fled. Typical ganger, only in it for themselves."
Merrion: "Where's the thug your guys knocked out, sir?"
Derrick: "We tied that fella up and called for the cops. Didn't think I'd get two detectives instead. Maybe I should buy that lottery ticket after all –"
Edmund: "Back on topic, Derrick. What happened to the delivery after that?"
Derrick: "It was still there, strangely enough. The cargo net was shaking a little, but it was probably just the ventilation systems or the brawl shaking the frames. We were able to send the delivery on its way after that. Normally attacks like these are done for the sake of stealing some equipment, but this attack seemed different you know. They were far too focused on fighting than stealing anything."
The trio rounded a corner and saw a bloody and bruised man tied up with some rope to a cargo frame. He was slumped over, seemingly still out cold.
Derrick: "There's our guy."
Edmund: "Thank you. We'll take it from here."
Derrick: "Sure thing. Rough him up if he struggles, will you? Scumbag punched out my friend's teeth earlier."
The supervisor walked back to his office, leaving Edmund and Merrion alone together with the unconscious thug.
The thug was dressed in a set of stained coveralls, but only the lower half was properly worn, with the upper half hanging down from his waist. A tight grey singlet stained with dirt, grime and blood was stretched over the thug's musclebound chest. Veins clearly bulged out from beneath the skin like a mesh network encasing the excess of musculature on this thug's frame. The thug looked less like a human and more like a gorilla, with strength in excess.
However, what caught Edmund's attention most of all was the lone tattoo on the thug. Tattooed on the skin just above where the singlet covered was a stylized snake in black and blue denoting the thug as a member of the Void Mambas. They were a criminal organization that the FID was aware of and were implicated in numerous illegal operations of varying severity.
Perhaps uniquely amongst the various personnel in General Investigations, Edmund was exceptionally familiar with them, but for the wrong reasons.
Merrion: "He won't suddenly escape, right? I hate to say it, but he could throw me right across the terminal easily."
Merrion spoke, her brows furrowed and her expression a fusion of concern and worry.
Edmund: "A fair assessment. But you needn't worry, the dockworkers bound him pretty tightly. A binding like that might even hold me, if only momentarily."
Edmund drew closer to the unconscious thug, whose chest heaved subtly from his breathing, stretching the fabric of the questionably-intact singlet covering the thug's chest. He looked back at Merrion.
Edmund: "Ready your Verdict if anything happens. But don't fire until I say so. Understood? We want him alive, so shoot to disable if it comes to it. Also, once you get a good angle, photograph him."
Merrion nodded, her hand gripping her communicator.
Merrion: "To cross-ref with the database, gotcha. Ready when you are."
---
Edmund: "Wake up."
A burst of pain exploded across the thug's face. His face ached, his body ached, and his head rang with a noise that he could not trace the origin of. He tried to open his eyes, but it felt like they had swollen shut. He tried to move, but his body was constricted. He was bound tightly with no hope for escape.
Edmund: "I said wake up."
A second burst of pain provided enough motivation for him to overcome the pain and force open his eyes. Standing before him was a tall man with amber eyes wearing a vest to the left, and a shorter green-eyed woman in a jacket to the right. The thug completely ignored the man and looked at the woman, smiling to himself as he eyed her up. She was just the way he liked –
His thoughts were interrupted by a kick to the face from the man, driving his magnetic boot across his face.
Edmund: "Eyes up here, mister –"
The thug waited for the pain to subside, then he turned to face the man who had so rudely kicked him. With a terrible noise, he spat out a glob of blood-stained saliva. The projectile flew through the air and landed just short of the man's magnetic boots, splattering a foamed slime upon the ground. He grinned at the man.
Thug: "Fidder. Didn't your mama teach you any manners?"
His head was slammed back into the cargo frame he was tied to by the man, who had clamped his left hand over his mouth. He struggled to open his mouth, completely muffled by the unnatural strength possessed by this man. He let forth several muffled roars of pain as the man's grip felt like it would implode his face.
He looked straight into the eyes of the man who was restraining him. Twin amber orbs stared back with a ferocious intensity, bordering on madness, as if they were drilling into his long-dead soul. The man's intense gaze burned, but there was a tinge of familiarity in them as well, as if he had seen the very same intensity elsewhere. That intensity hadn't been there before. It had only ignited after he had looked at the girl.
---
Edmund had noticed the leering gaze in this thug's eyes sizing Merrion up like a piece of meat the instant it had appeared. He might have ignored it if it were anyone other than Merrion. But he could not. The thug's words sounded so ophidian that before he could realize it, Edmund was already muffling him with his left hand. It wasn't just the leering gaze, but that word the thug had used. Fidder: slang for a member of the FID, and always used in a derogatory fashion.
Edmund: "I ask the questions here. If I even so much as suspect that you're lying to me –"
Edmund applied just a tad more pressure on his left hand.
Edmund: "– are we clear?"
Rapid blinking and a muffled noise that sounded like a sound of affirmation to Edmund came forth from the muffled crook. He removed his hand from the thug's face, wiping it on a nearby cargo frame. Edmund sized up the thug. In the distance there was a faint sound, like the rattling of chains.
Edmund: "Good. Who are you?"
Thug: "Not a fidder, that's what."
The thug spat out those words and sent another glob of bloody spit, just barely missing Edmund and Merrion.
Edmund's eyebrow twitched.
Edmund: "Tch. What were you doing here?"
The thug chuckled. A stretching noise came from the ropes binding him to the cargo frame and Edmund reacted, moving back slightly. Thankfully, the ropes held, and the thug remained bound.
Thug: "You deserve nothing. Life is simple: I listen, I come, I fight."
Edmund: "You were here with others. Who else was here with you?"
Thug: "Foolish fidder, to think I will sell out my brothers so easily. They'll come back for me. you'll see."
Edmund: "Which gang do you run with?"
Thug: "Why should I tell you?"
The thug hissed and then turned to face Merrion, who flinched back momentarily at the thug's leering expression.
Thug: "You'll just dig it out of my record, won't you, lil' fidder girl?"
A crazed smile broke out on the thug's face, a grin so demented that even Edmund felt a tinge of worry, much less Merrion. She was shuddering and doing everything in her power not to draw her Verdict immediately. Her train of thought was stopping and starting from the knot of fear slowly growing in her heart. Her breathing was growing irregular as she took shallower and shallower breaths.
Merrion (thinking): This, this – is completely different – from everything – I've done so far. Is this what the real criminals in the sector are like? It's … terrifying.
For the last year, whilst Edmund had been mentoring her, Merrion had exclusively been investigating and solving minor crimes. Shoplifting, pickpocketing, minor domestic scuffles, loud disagreements between neighbors; all common occurrences throughout the sector. These had been easy enough to solve; all she had to do was show up, flash her credentials and request relevant security information or use her same credentials to convince those who were quarrelling to deescalate or stop altogether. That was what Edmund had done, and she imitated his behavior to great success.
On one hand, Merrion knew that she needed time to adapt to the work environment. She needed to learn the ways of General Investigations by shadowing Edmund. On the other hand, Merrion had suspected that she was being coddled; that for some reason, she was being given assignments that were far below the level of severity that would require a Junior Detective to show up, much less an actual Detective.
At this moment, with an actual thug right before her exuding a menacing aura, that reality was staring her straight in the face.
Thug: "This won't hold me for long, girly. I'm going to break free, and once I do, I'm going to find you, and –"
The rattling grew louder in the distance as Edmund slammed the heel of his boot into the thug's sternum. A faint crack could be heard, and the thug grimaced in pain. Edmund spoke, his voice edged with a sadistic sarcasm that barely concealed the anger within.
Edmund: "Perhaps that question was too hard for you. Let's make things easier. Who. Sent. You?"
---
It had all happened in an instant.
The rattling suddenly intensified in volume, and Edmund felt something fly by his right cheek. He dodged to his left, barely avoiding Merrion due to her immediate reaction to his sudden movement. The thug looked like he was being pulled by something invisible attached to him. Nothing had been used to gag the thug, but his mouth was being forced open and his eyes were wide with fear. The thug's flesh was being distorted and squeezed as if he was being wrapped around by an invisible snake.
Edmund: "Weapons free!"
Edmund pointed to Merrion, who immediately withdrew her handgun.
Edmund: "Secure the area, we've got an unknown nearby!"
Merrion unholstered her Verdict and it booted up, projecting displays and useful information into her field-of-vision. She swung the gun about, sweeping the surroundings for any possible hostiles. Meanwhile, Edmund rushed forward to secure the thug. He was going to get useful information out of him, come hell or high water. Edmund moved to remove the invisible gag muffling the thug's mouth.
The moment he contacted it, Edmund blinked. He had doubted his vision on prior occasions, but never to this extent, never. A writhing mass of chain manifested instantly. It was as if it had been there the entire time, but Edmund had simply chosen to – no, had been unable to see it. The mass of chain wrapped around the thug's body in several layers, cocooning him in links of ebony metal. A small section was completely wrapped around the thug's mouth, leaving his head exposed. The writhing mass was connected to a length of chain that stretched off into the distance in a lazy serpentine pattern.
Edmund: "Merrion! Can you see the chain!"
Merrion: "What chain?! Where?!"
Edmund: "Head in that direction and follow any rattling sounds that you hear!"
Merrion dashed off down the aisle where Edmund had seen the chain leading down, her Verdict clutched firmly in her hands at the ready.
Thug: "Mmgrph!"
Edmund's attention was suddenly back on the thug, who had let forth a grunt like the life was being squeezed out of him. In that instant, the rattling sound in the distant grew louder again. Edmund let go of the chain, and it immediately vanished from sight. The thug's flesh was even more distorted now, but now Edmund noticed that the ropes binding the thug to the cargo frame had been worn down. Edmund grabbed onto where the chain had been, and it immediately returned into view.
Suddenly, the serpentine chain in the distance began straightening, like it was being pulled away. Once the entire length of the chain fully straightened, the ropes binding the thug snapped and he was yanked down the aisle along with Edmund!
The two of them were dragged down the aisle for a fair distance, before Edmund, who managed to get a good grip on a length of the chain forming the cocoon with his right hand, grabbed onto a passing cargo frame with his other hand!
Edmund engaged in a tug of war with this seemingly living chain, him versus this writhing mass of metal links. The cargo frame groaned as the metal strained under the forces at play and let forth ear piercing noises.
Edmund: "Arrghhh!"
Edmund groaned as he willed his arms to cope with the load, struggling to maintain his grip. He could hear his arms starting to heat up and give in from the strain as well. It would only be a matter of time before he, too, would break. Edmund saw the chain angled up towards the roof, disappearing into the hazy distance, threatening to yank both him and the thug towards the ceiling of the cargo terminal.
In an instant, Edmund made his decision.
Edmund relinquished his grip and immediately drew his gun in a single swift motion. As the thug was dragged off towards the ceiling, Edmund discharged several shots into where he had seen the chain stretching off into the ceiling. As far as he could tell, none of the shots had connected. The thug flew off towards the ceiling, whipping around a cargo frame stacked atop several others, and vanished from sight.
<
The handgun's machine voice speaking into Edmund's ear, repeating ceaselessly, was the sole reminder of his failure to secure the witness.
Edmund: "Damn it!"
---
Zora: "…what? You lost a witness?"
Inspector Zora leant on her table, head resting against her left hand. With her other hand she rubbed her temples, attempting to soothe this hopefully momentary headache.
She had been handling the daily clerical matters as required of her supervisory position when the call had been patched in through her communicator, which had been customised into the insignia of the Fleet Investigation Division, two crossed handguns atop a shield with the organization's name across the top. At first, she was glad to get some news from Edmund and Merrion, but slowly her optimism waned as they reported their current situation.
Edmund: "Regrettably, yes. The witness mentioned that his 'brothers' would return for him, but from what we saw I don't think he was taken by his fellow gangers."
Zora: "Obviously. No gang that we've previously encountered has had equipment good enough to replicate what you reported. Sounds like you encountered an intelligent construct."
Edmund nodded, even though he knew that Zora couldn't see him through the communicator. Intelligent constructs were programmed machines, capable of executing complex actions so long as they were properly designed for the task at hand. The most common examples were the numerous drones that tended to ship maintenance throughout the fleet, but more exotic examples like biomimetic robots were the playthings of those affluent enough to commission them. All sorts of capabilities could be designed into these machines, limited only by the designer's imagination and the depth of the buyer's bank accounts.
Edmund: "The chain construct was able to withstand my grip, even at full strength, and may even be able to resist hollow-point rounds. With tools like that…who are these guys?"
Zora: "By the way, you mentioned the witness had a black-and-blue snake tattoo, yes?"
Edmund: "Yes. Judging by the location of the tattoo, this thug probably ran with the Void Mambas. As far as I recall, even they don't have that kind of tech."
Edmund's comment prodded Zora to continue.
Zora: "Either way, I've sent you a list of suspected Void Mamba hideouts aboard the Mahoney. I'm not going to do anything on my end. Perhaps scoping them out will provide some useful leads. Just try not to paint a target on your backs if you go."
Edmund: "I won't. I'm not going to put Merrion into unnecessary danger."
Zora: "Speaking of her, where is she?"
Merrion: "I'm here, ma'am."
Edmund jumped. He hadn't heard Merrion walk up from his left as he'd been distracted by the call with Zora.
Edmund: "The hell you come from? Don't sneak up on me like that."
Merrion: "– sorry."
Edmund: "Did – did you hear anything?"
Edmund hoped she hadn't overheard what he said to Zora just before she suddenly appeared.
Merrion: "Hear what?"
Merrion's eyes darted quizzically around, as if searching for some unknown sound source.
Zora: "Hate to interrupt, you two, but something urgent just came up. After the two of you scope the Mambas, return to the Doyle immediately."
Edmund: "Roger that."
Merrion: "Understood, ma'am. By the way,"
Merrion asked, recalling what the supervisor said to her and Edmund when they first arrived in the cargo terminal.
Merrion: "Did we receive any calls regarding an attempted cargo theft aboard the Mahoney's cargo terminal? The supervisor said they called for the cops after they managed to knock out the thug."
Zora: "We haven't received any calls from the Mahoney today. Only from the Agnes. I'll tell you more later. Zora, out."