Log started on Friday, 14 Jul 2000, 9:44 PM EST by "Duffy" at "Holodeck 5"

Boulton Street Municipal Sports Center
Despite the name, the center consists largely of slabs of gray asphalt onto which have been painted markers for tennis courts, basketball courts, and the like, separated by drab concrete walls which are brightened by the "tags" of enterprising graffiti artists of the neighborhood. A kiosk nearby is owned by Nike Sports, a division of Capitol that sells sporting goods to the local teenagers. Like most Perimeter establishments of its kind, the window is barred, the door is metal, and goods are handed out by the employee on duty through a sort of airlock system. Still, the presence of a precinct station a few blocks away helps discourage crime and encourages the local gangs to take out their competition on the court rather than in the alleys.

In one of the basketball courts, a Rottweiler-patterned dog-man huffs as he stretches his legs, kneeling on one leg and putting his weight on it while his other leg is fully extended, then over to the other. He glances over to a scarecrow-like figure of a man shooting a battered old basketball at the backboard. "Man, Jay," Duffy says. "These practice games of ours are the only thing that's keeping me from turning into Detective Rounding-- since they put me on paperwork on the Tanaka case, I barely have time to take a quick jog around the block before work anymore."

"Think Jet and Taro'll make it? I suggested they come join us, maybe we'll get on a two-on-two," Duffy continues. "Though Taro wasn't too sure about joining in. Maybe he's afraid he'll get perspiration on his suit." He chuckles.

The slap of the basketball meeting the court echoes from the surrounding concrete walls before the ball gets lobbed in a lazy arc towards a somewhat rattly hoop. Thungity. It bricks off the hoop, causing the chain net beneath to jingle, and the scrawny, shorts and tank clad figure that tossed it to trot lazily after. "Mm, hard to say, Duffy," remarks Jimbo as he stoops to retrieve the basketball. He ambles back towards the free throw line. "During our downtime, I think they've been pretty busy ... scarce even, these days. I guess they needed their share of excitement, eh?"

"Excitement, I'd kill for excitement," Duffy says as he straightens up. "They've got me going over the books for every contractor to which Tanaka Electric paid money in the last year, on the off chance one of those transactions might lead to, well, something underhanded. You hear anything about what Jet's been working on? Or is the Antonia case still...," the quotes around the word are quite audible, "'closed'?"

A woman in a battered brown bomber jacket walks onto the court, scuffed dark blue jeans snug around her legs. "Heya, men," she drawls to the pair already present, and bends to scoop up the basketball Jimbo had been lackadaisically pursuing. "How're you doing?" She lofts it back to the lanky man.

Duffy perks his ears up as Jet arrives. "Hey, come to watch me give Jay the pummeling he richly deserves at one-on-one basketball?" he says, grinning at Jimbo.

"Would I pass up a chance to see an old dog show off some new tricks, Duff?" the dark-skinned woman replies with a smile. She walks to the Nike window overlooking the court and dings on the bell to summon the attendant.

With a bit of fumbling, Jimmy manages to keep the ball from just bouncing off his chest. "Hey, glad you could make it! Not too bad. Duffy here thinks he's going to beat me to the next shoe endorsement, but I say it'll be me on the next Soyties cereal box."

Jimbo dribbles the ball a few more times, then shakes his head at Duffy. "And I haven't heard word one. It's been pretty quiet. Relatively little in the way of SWAT activity, and when it happens, my squad's managed to be the one off duty. No wonder the sarge thinks I'm a loaf."

A fresh-faced young kid -- probably a tad underage to be selling, but here in the Perimeter, employee records aren't audited as zealously as in the Old City -- looks out through the metal-barred window at Jet. "Yeah, miss? Whatcha want?" he asks.

"That's 'cause you are a loaf," Duffy says with a laugh. "'kay, Jet, now that you're here, you can throw the ball up in the air so we can go for it. If you weren't here, we'd have to flip a coin for it."

Jet snickers at the officer's boast, leaning against the Nike counter. "I'm sure you're the equal of any man, Jimbo. Howabout I play whichever one of you bravos wins, before you make your way on to the championship?" She turns around to tell the kid, "Get me a b-ball to rent, please. Two hours."

Duffy cracks his knuckles. "A bit odd that there's nothing much happening, though. I don't think they just went away. Maybe they're waiting for something."

A walking shadow of a man appears at the edge of the basketball court. He stops there to reach up and tilt his dark glasses down his muzzle so that he might view those gathered better. It's Taro, but he isn't saying anything just yet and might be easy to miss.

"Sure, miss. I'll need a deposit on that, you bring the ball and ticket back, you get your money back minus rental fee. That's five crowns for two hours, plus another fifteen crowns for the deposit, twenty credits in all," the kid drawls. He goes into the back of the kiosk, presumably to locate a usable basketball.

Jet digs through one pocket oh her jacket, sifting through a handful of coins to produce the correct amount, then stands by the counter, tapping her coins against the pay slot without inserting them, watching the two other cops without further comment, a shadow over her face.

Jimbo nods agreeably at Jet, then grins lopsidedly at Duffy. "Alright ol' dog. I know you can fetch, after seeing you receive in football, so we'll see if you can throw too."

The black kitsune continues after his moment of review, moving from the corner out into the open and toward Duffy and Jimbo. "Good evening," the fox greets them. His voice is fairly monotone -- for most it lack audible interest, but for Taro it's a standard.

"Anyway, I've been sort of out of the loop, Jet," Duffy explains. "They've got me sorting paperwork on the Tanaka case. I've got a feeling someone wanted me moved somewhere harmless after, er, I made some very disparaging comments about their closing the Antonia case. I think I've got a ticket out though, we'll have to see how it plays... How about you? Keepin' busy? Hey, Taro! Our favorite shadow!"

The kid comes up with a serviceable basketball, evidently well-used but in better shape than the thing Jimbo has been dribbling about the court. "Here you go, miss." He opens the metal lid in the pay slot.

Watterson holds his basketball against a hip to wave at Taro. "Heya, Chuckles. What's the haps, man? Haven't seen you in forever and a day."

After exchanging coins for ball, Danzwyck dribbles her new acquisition slowly across the court, skirting wide of the area Jimbo is practicing in. "Keepin' busy," she answers Duffy simply, after a moment of hesitation.

The kitsune smiles at Duffy's comment and raises his hand in greeting. "I've been busy. Between work and Destiny, I've had little time off save to sleep." The fox casts a glance toward Jet looking at her for a moment before he returns his gaze to the two men.

"Hmmm," is Duffy's response to this sphinxishness on Jet's part.

Jimbo nods, and stoops over a water bottle near the sidelines to refresh himself with a sip, and a light splash over his forehead. He shakes his short, tousled hair reasonably dry, leaving beads of water on his forgotten goggles. "On a first name basis with Ms. Blue these days, eh? Good to hear it! How's she doing?"

Duffy snags the used old basketball from Jay and gets in some dribbling time, himself. "Yeah, when's she going to slip a collar around your neck? Though you already wear a tight enough tie as it is," he teases Taro.

"Destiny Blue is doing well. I picked her up at her place for dinner last night. After dinner I did not get home until late due to the rain," answers Taro. He glances around for somewhere to sit and spots a nearby bench. His direction changes and he moves toward this.

Taro smirks slightly as he walks. "Destiny has yet to collar me," he says simply.

Jet takes an offhand shot from a half-dozen yards away at the hoop on the far side of the court, and the ball barely hits the backboard, rebounding away to bounce off a wall and bump its way down the court, as the woman strides after it without much enthusiasm.

Duffy straightens up, ball tucked under one arm. He leans toward Jimbo and whispers, "Something got her down?"

As Taro nears the bench he pauses to brush it off with a hand. This action may very well be futile, and the way he frowns seems to lend as much, but he does it anyway. "Jet, care to join me while the others play?"

There's a few seconds before Jimbo realizes his basketball is gone. He shrugs at Duffy, but he just lurches over to a duffel bag near the bench, rummaging through it to come up with a towel. He wipes at his head and face. "Well, I'm glad to see both of you guys. They don't tell us grunts in SWAT much, but nobody in the department could really come up with what they'd seen y'all up to in the past couple of weeks. I was starting to think you'd gotten laid up in the hospital or something, and I just hadn't checked the personnel list for 'injured'."

She retrieves her ball and offers a grin to Taro. "I rented a ball, Chuckles, I better get some use out of it. You wanna play me over here while the lords of the game settle the championship on that end?" Jet asks the kitsune, dribbling the ball as she walks closer, shaking her head at Watterson's comment. "I don't know if you worry too much, Jimbo, or if I'm just too optimistic.

The dog-man rubs his chin, then yelps in surprise as the ball drops out from under his arm. He leans down to dribble it back up to a working position, then starts shooting from the free throw line, though he misses the hoop rather more often than Jay. "Yeah, they don't tell us much either when we're working the books, I was about ready to volunteer walking the Maze in the Elles for my next duty assignment."

Jet tucks her ball under one arm to shrug out of one sleeve of her jacket, then switches sides to get the rest of it off, "Catch," she says to Taro, tossing the battered coat to him. "You do that, Duff, and Jimbo'll be right to check the hospital records to determine your whereabouts," she comments with a snort.

The kitsune grabs the coat deftly enough, then tucks it under his arm. He frowns more, though it's not obvious if it's due to the unbudging dirt or the nickname. He abandons this and walks after Jet. "I'll have to decline, thank you. I did not get home until late last night and I am rather tired," he tells Jet.

Clap! The blondish officer's hands come together smartly, and he gets to his feet. "Right! I should know better than to worry about you two.. you're smart cookies, and tough to boot. Just give a kick every so often so we know you're alive, okay? Now, game on!"

"Yeah, well, I don't want to wind up looking like this," Duffy says with a grin as he holds up the basketball. Leaning his head behind the ball, he waggles it about and has it say, "'Ey! You scoundrel! Come back here with that woman's purse or I shall waddle after you, barking most ferociously!" The dark brown of the leather makes it a closer match than the somewhat more synthetic color of Jet's basketball.

Danzwyck watches Duff's basketball with a smile on her face, then pretends to study first the ball, then the dog officer, with a look of intense consideration. "Hmmm ... you know, I think I can see the resemblance already. Better lay off the donuts, Duff."

Jimbo slaps his palms lightly against his chest, and rubs his nose with the back of one hand, grinning that lopsided grin of his again. "You heard the gal! Work off that custard filling, chief! I'll let you have possession first, just so this is fair." He drops into a partial crouch between Duffy and the basket, and waving his hands a few times in a 'get it by me' sort of gesture.

Duffy whines a bit. "They just call to me, 'Duffy, eaaat me,' when I pass by the bakery..." He shakes his head, then grins and nods to Jimbo. "I'd flip you for it, but I think you may be right this time." He moves over to start from his side of the court, dribbling the ball from one hand to the other. "Say ready, set, go, Jet?"

After stopping to stand a few steps to the side of Jet, Taro folds his arms around the coat. With a nod of his head, he gestures with a few fingers at the ball. "You need to keep in shape," he offers. To the woman beside him he offers some words too. "Did you need any help with anything?"

The woman glances at Taro, then pats her flat stomach through the grey cloth of a t-shirt whose sleeves have been torn loose at the shoulder, then looks to her wiry but well-muscled arms. "What, do I look like I've had one too many Bavarian cremes, too?"

Taro smiles slightly as he turns to regard Jet. "No, I simply heard you have been busy and was wondering if you needed help with anything," he answers.

Raking her nails through her close-cropped, curly hair, Jet considers the kitsune's offer. "I dunno, Hidaka. I'll have to think about it."

"You gonna play, or am I gonna have to take that ball from you, chief?" drawls Jimbo. He waves a cocky 'come hither'.

Duffy starts trotting down the court toward Jimbo, taking the simple, direct approach. "Hey, you're welcome to try, Jay," he wurfs to Jimbo as his tail flicks side to side in pace with his run. He crosses over the midpoint and tries to maneuver around the beanpole-like human.

The black furred kitsune nods slightly before turning his attentions back to the game. "Well, give it some thought. Remember thought I may not be present as much as I used to, I am around to help. I am listening," he says quietly. His smile brightens a bit and he adds, "I am your friend."

Jimbo spreads his hands out, and scuttles from side to side to keep himself between Duffy and the hoop. As the rottweilerish cop closes the distance, one of his long, lean arms attempts a slap at the basketball. "Hup!"

Jet looks from the court to Taro as he finishes speaking, blinking as if surprised, then smiles at him. She nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the players.

Duffy yelps, "Hey!" as Jay steals the ball.

With a squeak of his sneakers, Jimmy catches up to the loose ball, and manages to get it under control enough to start eating up the distance to the other basket with long strides on long legs. "No napping, Duff!"

The dark colored fox continues to smile and watch the game play out before him, casting a glance at Jet when she smiles. "Perhaps I am too serious. But I would not want to be remembered as not being a friend. And, do you think Jimbo rather looks like a crab?" He tilts his head slightly.

Jet splays her fingers against one cheek as she studies the taller man critically. "Naw," she drawls after a moment. "More like a daddy-long-legs."

The dog-man huffs and chases after Jimbo, exerting more rapid strides to try and get in between the human and his goal, then put himself in a position where Jimbo must stop or crash into him. He eyes Jay's hands for a chance to steal the ball back.

"Well, it certainly isn't a flattering pose," comments Taro. He shifts the coat around so he can fold his arms behind his back around it. "Did you wish to discuss anything?"

"Eh ... maybe later, Hidaka," Danzwyck says dismissively, after a glance around the court. She appears to be engrossed in the match.

With the hound on his heels, the gangly man puts on a burst of speed, and carries his momentum into a hop from a few feet before the hoop, lofting the ball in with an easy lay-up. Jim's shoes scuff as he returns to the hardtop, giving Duffy a quick toothy smile while he lightly smacks the ball back towards the dog-man, and trots towards his side of the court again.

"Heh heh, I was just taking it easy on you," Duffy suggests playfully. "Now it's time to get serious." He dribbles the ball again, then starts to move slowly in... Until he gets nearly within range of Jimbo, then makes a sudden break to try and run to one of the corners to shoot from there.

Taro nods his head once again slightly as before. "Understandable," he replies simply. His eyes begin to wander past the game and off into distant buildings. What serves as his brows narrow and he waxes thoughtful. Due to this he seems to complete miss the entire exchange between Duffy and Jimbo.

Jimbo gives chase, briefly surprised at the pep Duffy suddenly pours into his breakaway, endeavoring to catch up and head his fellow officer off.

Duffy spins on one shoe and shoots the ball off toward the hoop! "Fire in the hole," he calls.

The ball thunks on the rim of the hoop, threatening to tip off the other side... then spirals about a bit and thumps forlornly through the hoop to the ground where it bounces a few times. Duffy grins. "Hey, I still got my legs, Jay." He heads back to his side of the court and gets ready for the return attack.

"Legs nothin'! Though I'll admit, that was a good shot," laughs Jimmy, not slowing down his trot to scoop the ball up. He turns in a wide circle to start trotting back up the court, his free hand lowering his goggles over his eyes.

Duffy squares his shoulders. He makes a 'come here' gesture and grins showing a bit of teeth at Jay. "Let's see what you've got then, hot stuff. What'd they teach you in SWAT, huh?"

"The direct approach!" the blondish officer calls out. He picks up speed towards Duffy, lowering his head as if to blow right past his friend.

Duffy crouches down and gets ready to try and block Jimbo's approach, should he make a similar sprinting attack to the side... "Like Dark you're going to go direct, old buddy," he says with a chuckle.

After a while of staring into space, Taro looks back over to the game as Duffy moves to intercept the charging Jimbo. "If he did go direct, we ... would likely need visit him in the hospital again," the kitsune officer mentions.

It would seem Duffy's prediction is on the mark ... in a manner of speaking. Jimbo swerves suddenly, heading for the side route, jinking left.. but just as quickly, he fakes left, and rotates his body full circle to head in the other direction, leaving a black smear of cheap sneaker-sole on the concrete.

Duffy, deceived by Jimbo's move, jumps a step in that direction ... then yelps as he is forced to perform a similar attempt to get back on the right track. His thick frame a bit less agile, this puts him behind Jimbo and struggling to catch up before his fellow officer can get close enough for an easy shot.

Jet offers a brief grin. "If he went direct, we'd have to wonder if they gave us the right Jimbo back after his last hospital visit."

"He could very well disappear into Duffy's gut as well," suggests Taro. The kitsune frowns at some bizarre imagery and then shakes his head. "Ah, comedy is not my forte."

Jimbo pounds the pavement hard, and with a grunt, springs upward. It's just enough height for him to put one palm on the rim of the hoop as he jams the ball home. "Swoft!" goes the ball, and the chain net jingles merrily. The old metal hoop creaks as Jimbo swings from it for a split second before falling to the ground like some sort of ungainly ape jumping out of a tree. "Hooyah!"

Duffy huffs. "I guess I'm buyin' tonight at the bar," he says to Jay regretfully. "Slick move!"

The blonde officer raises his goggles, giving the detective a short, sloppy salute. "They didn't call me 'Jammin' Jimmy Watterson' back in high school for nothin'." He looks up at the clouding sky. "Could be getting dark, though. I think we might have to postpone the match with short stuff for a while."

"Yeah, you try that move on rain-slick asphalt, you're going down on your chin, Hot Stuff," Duffy acknowledges. "You can go one-on-one with Jay next time, Jet, eh?"

Jet chuckles, bouncing her ball off the pavement and towards Watterson. "Dark, nothin'," she remarks, "You just want to enjoy your throne for a few hours before I knock your sorry rear off of it." She grins and winks. "But I'll let you savor your victory. You drivin', Duff?" she asks as she sets off of the court.

Taro glances up at the sky for a moment before he hands Jet her jacket. "You may need this," he tells her. "Oh and I do hate to ruin a good suit. Duffy, might I also get a ride?"

"Sure thing," the dog-man responds. "I even got my car fixed up a little, lost the 'shot up in a Maze trip' look to it."

Rain sheets down onto the windshield of Duffy's battered Roadking as it tools through the winding streets, the four inside it a little subdued by the inclement weather. As they stop at a light, Jet leans forward from the backseat. "Did you hear what happened to Dice yet?" she asks, speaking to all of them.

"No, he the one who owns the Apollo? I remember that limo case we got mixed up in," responds Duffy from where he peers through the creaking wiper blades at the nearly vacant intersection. He sighs. "Timed lights."

Next to Jet in the back seat, Taro shakes his head. "No actually I haven't." He turns toward the woman as he leans a little back in his seat. "I would be interested in knowing if you wish to share?" he asks.

Jimbo cranes his neck over his shoulder as best he can with where he's seat-belted into the 'shotgun' position. "Do tell. That case got strangely quiet after the whole Brotherhood fracas. I thought it was cleared up... but that could be wishful thinking."

"And you wonder why I dislike the Brotherhood," comments Taro to Jimbo.

"Remember I was undercover at the Apollo for a while? Well, I was finally supposed to have a meet with some of their dealers for drugs, supposedly. As it happens, Dice himself came out to meet me." Jet looks ominous as she speaks. "But I never got a chance to talk to him."

Taro frowns slightly at this bit of information. He does not comment, however.

Jimbo starts to say something to Taro, but stops to listen to Jet, nodding quietly. The light coming through the rain on the windows gives his face a mottled, greyish cast, and his eyes appear to have retreated into bottomless sockets.

As the light turns green again, Duffy drives the Roadking down in a leisurely fashion, in no hurry to get to Little Mercury, their eventual destination. "He got a case of lead poisoning?" he surmises. The streetlights cause panes of rain-mottled light to wash through the car periodically.

"As soon as he came out of his vehicle at the meet spot -- out in the wastelands -- Dice got pasted. By House Borgia."

Jimbo releases a long, low whistle. "Now I'm really glad you didn't get hurt. What happened after that?"

"Borgia? I thought he worked for them!" Duffy exclaims. He glances at the side window, as if checking that no dark limousine with a personal license plate is passing them up.

"House as in, a noble house of Bauhaus. Borgia, if I recall this correctly, is a house of no small power of influence. I see now why you are hesitant to speak ...," says Taro. In the dim light the already hard to see fox is but a mere fox shaped shadow. The lights from passing vehicles occasionally glinting off his eyes causing them to reflect gold in the dark.

Jet continues, "Oslo Borgia, to be exact, and a bunch of his goons. In a darkin' spacecraft, for cryin' out loud. They chased me and Hughes halfway across the landscape before I figured that if they were going to paste us, too, they'd've done it already. So I stop the van, get out, and so does Mr. Aren't-You-Supposed-to-Be-Dead Oslo Borgia."

Jimbo rubs the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised that Dice could have enemies on both sides of the law. Even powerful ones like a noble house. Now I'm starting to wish I'd taken BLEU up on their offer. What did Oslo have to say?"

"We have a nice chat, by which I mean I survived the experience, in which Mr. Borgia assures me that he would never have anything to do with that awful Armageddonist movements -- by Light, the thought of it! -- but Dice, that silly, wretched man, arranged the whole thing. Unaided, or at least not with any aides that Mr. Borgia would care to name." Jet snorts. "So of course, Borgia had to teach Dice a lesson, right?"

"One I'm sure he took to heart," remarks James grimly.

Duffy shakes his head, whistling. "Heavy. Now I feel like the M516S I've got in the trunk is inadequate and I should be packin' a rocket launcher. I take it you don't believe him."

Meanwhile the kitsune remains quiet in the dark, ears perked and listening.

"As proof that Oslo wouldn't be involved in the Armageddonist's plot, he offers this tidbit: he was at the Antonia concert, so it'd be insanity for him to want to blow the stadium and surrounding cityscape back to Eden." Jet leans back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest.

Jimbo's brow furrows into deep crags, made all the deeper-looking by the shadows left in the wake of passing streetlights. "But did he know what was going to happen at the concert?"

"Records could be faked. I've been getting a pretty good schooling in that from going over the Tanaka books with a Brotherhood inspector," Duffy comments. "Even if the records say he bought the ticket, he could have sent someone to go in his place. Still ... it's possible Oslo might be telling the truth. I'd be more curious how Dice stood to benefit from helping Armageddonists."

Another snort. "Truth's a hard thing to come by. " She nods to Duffy. "Exactly. That last, I might've found convincing ... except that I'm pretty darkin' sure he was never at the concert." The black woman gazes out the window, watching the streetlights shimmer in the grey haze of rain. "I spent quite a while going over the surveillance reels and news footage from the concert with several of the boys from the station. That footage isn't comprehensive, but it's enough to prove that if he was there he'd have to have been incognito, and somehow I just don't think that's his style."

"Plausible deniability," Duffy says. He turns down a street and heads for a large parking structure beginning to loom in view, a shadowy form against the dark gray skies. "He doesn't have to prove he was there, you have to prove he wasn't."

"In such an emergency, incognito or no, the BLEU would have likely moved to protect him. It would seem odd they ignore him. And even if he was there and they did ignore him, that in itself would be odd," mentions Taro.

"Hmmm, you thinking BLEU keeps records of Bauhaus nobility coming and going? And if they did, would they let two-bit cops from the Perimeter look at them?" Duffy says to Taro.

Jet shakes her head. "I don't know about BLEU moving to help this character. There's a reason he's supposed to be dead -- even Bauhaus considers him a criminal. He might have enough clout or bribed the right people that he could attend, but I don't think that he can make them officially want him around, much less protect him."

Taro reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, the movement noticeable by the rustle and the fact his golden eyes are obscured by his arm as it passes. "I think the BLEU's records would be available to all noble houses. I think that if he were present, then other houses may wish to be protected from him. I believe if other houses had some concern about this they might be willing to share their information if it benefited them to do so. A enemy of my enemy is my friend, as it were," answers Taro.

"Interesting theory," Duffy says. "I've never tested that theory, myself. They tend to be too snooty to talk to mere Capitol dog-men police. You'd need an 'in' with them."

"You have their ... favor, do you not Jimbo?" asks Taro. Those gold eyes shift and look directly at the man.

Jimbo gives a nod, though only the back of his head can be seen from his position in the passenger seat. "Yeah ... I was thinking about that job they offered me."

Taro nods slightly. "And it was a noble who offered you this job, Jimbo?" he asks.

Jet shakes her head. "I already talked with BLEU and the ticket office. The ticket office doesn't keep records on the names of the people who purchase tickets -- it's largely a cash-only operation, after all. They've got the names of the Bauhaus nobles with permanent passes, but Oslo's not on that list. And, like I said, if he'd be with the nobles -- or with any kind of entourage, and I don't see him going without one -- I'd've been able to find him on film. He wasn't there," she finishes, flatly.

The fox turns his head back around to regard Jet. "Well, if he suspects anything, he would make for a powerful enemy. But there are those of equal power as he. If he should be dead and a banished criminal, and should he be alive and showing his face ... the other houses may take offense. They may wish something done, if only they knew of this," he suggests.

"Well, it's not so much finding out whether he was there or not, but finding out what all he's been involved with," Duffy suggests. "Is Borgia moving assets and personnel off of Luna City? Or in, hoping that they can 'pick up the pieces'? There're a lot of ifs."

"One can hope," the woman replies with a slight shrug to Taro. "The key there is finding the ones who really are his enemies, and not secret cronies or allies." She nods to Duffy. "Yeah. That'd be more the question. What's he looking to gain by this? And why the big public display of Dice's death to me?"

Duffy wurfs, "Like I said, plausible deniability. You got in mind any directions for looking at this? Maybe I can lend a hand, once I get assigned to more active duty."

Jimbo scratches his jaw, then turns in his seat again. "Who cleaned up after Dice's remains, anyway?"

"I'm afraid this is a bit beyond my jurisdiction as far as Dawn Alert is concerned. I am not in position to do research. So, I can only offer you a place to stay if the situation becomes more troublesome and anything else you think I could offer," says Taro.

"I did," Jet answers, "Forensics matched his dental records and fingerprints. The body was Dice's." She adds another shrug to that. "I'm as sure of that as one can be of anything."

Jimbo nods again. "Well, that's a puzzler, Jet, but that explains what you've been doing all this time. I'm so out of the loop, this is making my head spin. What'll you do now?"

Danzwyck sets her jaw grimly. "I don't know, Jimbo. I just don't know."

"I know what to do now," Duffy announces.

The dog-man chugs his car into a parking space and turns off the engine. "C'mon, guys, let's go upstairs and have a drink. This may look better after a few slugs of something good and healthy."

The fox nods slightly. "Actually, and I know this is unlike me, but that sounds to be a good idea Duffy. After hearing this, I could use a drink." He reaches over and rubs the base of his muzzle. "Remember Jet, what I said earlier."

Jet nods to Taro's words, offering a brief smile, before opening her door and looking out through the drenching rain towards the entrance to the bar. "Somehow," she mutters in response to Duffy's comment, "I doubt it."

GM Note: Totals so far -- Taro: 15 + 1 xp; Duffy: 14 + 1 xp; Jet: 20; Jimbo: 12 + 1 xp

(Log stopped Fri Jul 14 2000 11:33 PM by "Duffy" at "Holodeck 5")