((Side Cases are cases Hope personally investigates from start to finish and often happen in-between, around or along side other cases she is involved in. Take all dates and times mentioned with a dose of salt and faith.))

10-19-2015, 10PM, Alley Between Pewter Lane & Cobbler Street, 10-100 (Body Found):

*Dispatch to GIU 13. Dispatch to GIU 13. What's your 10-20?*

Hope swallowed the last of her cold coffee and tossed the paper cup into the public waste bin. A storm was starting to blow into Rhy'Din, a light drizzle was spattering her helmet and lent a slithery sheen to her leather jacket. The street lamps guttered and hissed above her as rogue drops of rain penetrated the glass guards. She snagged the radio transceiver from its cradle nestled next to her built in laptop on the motorcycle.

"Dispatch. GIU 13 reporting. I am at Main Street and Oak Way."

*4th Division reports a 10-100 found in the alleyway of the Market Place District between Pewter Lane and Cobbler Street.*

"10-4 Dispatch."

Hope hung up the transceiver and flipped on the motorcycles main drive motor, the capacitors humming as the batteries charged them up. The motorcycle rolled away with no fan fare or rumble. Just a quiet glide that matched the silent officer mounted on its back. Hope drove up Main Street and took a left on Cobbler Street where Pewter Lane would ambush it around a sharp corner of walls and brick piles.

Hope often wondered if she'd ever see this much action back in her old stomping grounds of Clover Rock, Washington. Muffled laughter wormed its way from the helmet into the wet, gossamer night. She'd have seen plenty of old, boring action. Tickets, warrants, domestic violence and lock ups of drunks. Here, she was seeing a lot of the same, but the types of trouble was where the similarity ended. Each response and report was a myriad of details from an Alice in Wonderland book gone wrong.

Reaching Silverstone Street, a block away from Pewter Lane, there was an amassing group of citizens coming out of dry shops and homes to get a look at the new bit of Rhy'Din excitement. Cheap thrills for the price of some damp clothes and maybe a fall cold. Hope turned on her red, white and blues but left the siren muted. People stepped away from the flashing L.E.D. light show, recognizing one of the few Watch Members that had made an effort to establish a presence in the city. Her trip to Pewter Lane was uninterrupted by anyone asking questions. A miserable looking lad in dew laden Watch Coat lifted the yellow crime scene tape and waved her to move into the crime scene.

Hope let the motorcycle roll to a stop fifty feet away from the yellow tape and turned off the motor. The L.E.D lights she switched off as well and dismounted. She took a hand held data pad and approached a ring of two Watch Lieutenants in uniform and two Watch members that appeared to be in civvies huddled under umbrellas. They were examining a bound body half submerged in soggy cardboard and street trash with flashlights. Hope flipped up her visor and caught the tail end of the men trying their hand at detective work.

Civilian #1 said to Liutenant #1: "It's gotta be a one off murder, Bill. We've never seen anyone murdered like this before. Maybe someone's gotten into that Brimstone Stuff? Ascend even?"

Civilian #2 said to Civilian #1: "Clancy, have you ever seen what we have here? This is a human victim. That new Brimstone stuff wouldn't make someone just kill people, right? Doubt Ascend would've caused it either."

Clancy said to Civilian #1: "James, how would you know if this bloke wasn't offed by someone taking Ascend or Brimstone? Could be a magic user or someone with a bit of the hidden family secret that tweeked the killer into a paranoid response?"

Bill said to Lieutenant #2: "Hank, I really doubt his death is from someone taking drugs."

Hope cleared her throat. "Ahem. Gentlemen. What do we have here?"

Bill muttered seeing the 27th's GIU star at their scene. "This isn't your district, Sergeant Jubal. This is 4th Divisions turf."

Hank gave Bill a smack to the back of his head. "Bill, Sergeant Jubal was directed here by Dispatch. If Dispatch wants the 27th here, then they have higher up orders."

Bill rubbed his head and glowered at Hank before he moved over to the alleyway wall to take a smoke break. James and Clancy stood, gave Hope respectful nods and gave her open access to the body. Hank stayed by Hopes side and filled her in.

"Sorry about Lieutenant Bill Madol. He get's touchy with anyone coming into his stomping grounds. I'm Hank Collery, Lieutenant for the 3rd Division. We share this little slice with 4th Division. Over there is Lieutenant Clancy Ruvern from 8th Divisions and Lieutenant James Gavry from 1st Division. They were off duty catching some coffee when they heard a scream from a woman outside of the coffee shop. The woman pointed to them the body among the boxes. They called in to Dispatch and Bill and I came out to investigate. We haven't moved the body yet, waiting for the CSI team but I guess you are the only one Dispatch reached so far."

Hope nodded to Hank as he finished the run down. "Good work so far. A bit surprised seeing four Lieutenants at one crime scene. Your divisions run off all the beat cops?" she gave Hank a good natured jibe.

Hank just smirked and waved for her to investigate away. Hope nodded to him and took off her helmet. Sitting it down on the wet cobblestones she pulled free her own flashlight from her belt and got closer to the body. She touched her data pad and a 'Recording in Process' was displayed. She pulled out of her jacket pocket a small head band with a camera on it and began to slowly lift away pieces of wet cardboard with the butt end of her light, disturbing the body as little as possible.

"Date is October 19th, 2015, 10pm. Sergeant Hope Jubal responding to a 10-100 at Pewter Lane and Cobbler Street. On scene are Lieutenants Bill Madol, 4th Division, Hank Collery, 3rd Division, and off duty Lieutenants Clancy Ruvern, 8th Division and James Gavery, 1st Division. Officers Ruvern and Gavery were first on the scene and first to report to Dispatch.

The victim is male, possibly mid-40's in age. Roughly 5 foot and 3 inches in height. No more than 120 pounds. Victim is laying on his side, dressed in a white wool shirt, crumpled black vest and green cotton pants. Hair is black fading to gray. Skin color is waxy white, possibly a sign of little exposure to light. Victim is bound by cotton rope at his bare feet, the knees and elbows. His feet are tinged blue indicating loss of circulation before death. Victim's eyes are covered by a dirty strip of canvas. A chunk of cork is lodged inside the victims mouth. Upon the victims cheeks appears to be two symbols scored into the flesh. A crude hand, open palmed and what appears to be an eye looking out at you.

Closer inspections indicate several possible causes of death. Victim has the same type of cotton rope wrapped around his throat. A small caliber entry wound is located between the victims brow ridges indicating that the shooter was no more than 3 feet away from the victim. Hands of the victim are, well, missing. Both appear to be cleanly severed at the wrists by something very sharp. Possibly a sword or cleaver like weapon. No form of identification found on the victim. Body has not been moved at the scene but it is unclear if body was moved to this scene. Local weather conditions has made any indications of body movement is unclear at this time.

Watch members on the scene are awaiting CSI team." Hope finished her dictation and inspection.

The Lieutenants listened to her and the debate started up again on whether or not the killer was hopped up on drugs. Hope had suspicion this wasn't a drug addled murder. She'd been doing work with a few other agencies and the experience was enough for her to realize something ritualistic among the mess of oddity.

*Dispatch to GIU 13. 10-55 requested by Acrana Corporation, located on Magus Street.*

Hope took up her helmet and data pad and splashed back to her motorcycle. The drizzle was now a full down pour of heavy, fat drops or rain. She snatched up the transceiver.

"GIU 13 to Dispatch. 10-49."

Hope returned the transceiver to its cradle and stowed away her data pad in a saddle bag and the headband camera was slipped back into her jacket. Hank threw her a salute as she donned her helmet and soon rolled off to inspect Acrana Corporation to see what set off the security team.

Cat Tail Cafe, 12 PM, 10-25-2015

Hope sipped at her coffee as she waited for her egg salad sandwich and potato salad to arrive. She regarded the man sitting across from her in dusty green robes of satin, Arcana Corporation stitched in gold upon the right breast panel of the robe. The man was a bit weathered, his pate polished to a gleam and his age appeared to be 50 though his eyes said 80 years old.

?Magus Maltem, I appreciate your willingness to meet with me here today to discuss the recent burglary and theft at your place of employment.? Hope said.

The man gave her a warm smile. ?By all means, the pleasure is mine, Sergeant Jubal. It is a novelty to speak with the mundane Watch of the city. Seeking information from me means you seek to improve your wisdom in the areas of the magical and mystical arts. What questions may I answer for you today??

Hope raised an eyebrow at the little quips within his statement. She was really feeling a bit roughed up by the low opinions of the city about their collective brothers and sisters in law enforcement. That aside, she only had the man for a brief time today; Mrs. Lillem was already put out that Hope called in her right to speak with the mage.

?The items stolen have symbols upon them, or so Mrs. Lillem described when questioned. One symbol being a hand, the other being an eye. I was wondering if you could tell me more about the nature of the key, lock and lantern that was stolen?? She said.

Maltem regarded her politely as he mulled over her questions. ?Ah yes, the relics from the 5th Age of Enlightenment on Earth 358. They are quite mundane objects, Miss Jubal. Merely prop pieces for ceremonial gatherings and for display in the Ruma Temple of Wisdom. You see, the Rumatites of that Earth believed knowledge and wisdom were true magic and anything else was simple, crude and dismissed. Questions were valued highly as puzzles to obtain better enlightenment and that true worth and value was in the search for the answers to the questions. The key represents answers, the lock the questions in life and the lantern the journey to find the keys to open all locks.?

Hope jotted down what Maltem said on her note pad. ?So why steal these relics if they had no magical value and are from another culture not even in this realm??

Maltem folded his hands together a moment then spoke. ?Many people will do anything they can for a status symbol, for a means to draw attention to themselves or to pursue an illogical passion to collect things. These relics are rumored to be the highest status symbol a Rumatite could receive, similar to how crowns are usually bestowed on royalty or pretenders to the throne. I am not familiar with the bidders that Mrs. Lillem has lined up for the relics, but I would wager either they are among the few eclectic collectors familiar with the Rumatite culture, Rumatite descendants themselves or perhaps someone just wanting to show off the new, old, odd relic they bought with their vast fortunes. Did you have reason to believe they were magical in nature??

Hope nodded to him and withdrew from her jacket printed photos of the carved hand and eye symbols on the dead man?s cheeks. Maltem looked the photos over for a span of a few heart beats.

?Ah, you think the symbols are occult in origin and that with the items being in Arcana Corporation they have magical power. They are not, at least in regards to these relics. Rumatites detested rituals. They found a life more valuable alive as it meant more time for that individual to find the answers they seek. It is a pity that this happened to the man.? he handed her the photos back.

Hope silently cursed inside as she hit a dead end to one suspicion. Her sandwich and potato salad had arrived. Maltem simply accepted a glass of white wine he?d ordered.

?How would someone manage to get inside Arcana Corporation without tripping both electronic security and magical wards, remove three items and leave without a noticeable trace?? She asked.

Maltem settled his wine glass in the cradle of his hands. ?I can think of several ways, Miss Jubal, however you are not an employee of high status with our company and my employer does not trust the Watch with such fatal errors in her defenses.?

*GIU 13. GIU 13. 10-70 in progress. Ware House District, Pier# 50.*

Hope looked over to her motorcycle, the egg salad sandwich half way to her mouth. Maltem gave Hope a gaze of amusement. She dropped the sandwich to the plate and got up.

?It seems our meeting has come to an end. Thank you for your time and the information provided. Even with Mrs. Lillem?s distrust, knowing of these issues with her security systems would hasten the capture of the culprit. If you can find time or a way to give a hint or more information, please contact me right away.? She said.

Moving for her motorcycle, she snatched up the transceiver. ?Dispatch. 10-4?

Malen got up to leave and stopped a moment. ?Miss Jubal. I leave you with a small clue to some of the errors I mentioned. Anything manmade is as only good and pure as the creator that made them.?

Hope jotted down his words, slipped on her helmet and took off for Pier #50.

10-25-2015, 8PM, Arcana Corporation, 10-100 (Body Found), 10-86 (Officer on Duty):

Hope watched the black bricked building that was home to Arcana Corporation fill her bike helmets view. Compared to her first visit, the place was crawling with activity. Watch officers were taping off the streets, a coroner?s team hovered neared the entry of the company, the heavy steel double doors wide open. More Watch officers were coming and going through the doorway and it made Hope smile in a cruel, vindictive smile. Mrs. Lillem must be fainting regularly now with her carpets under such peasant abuse. She was waved over to park near the entry of the building by Lieutenant Mallen.

?Seems your little case is getting a bit hot Hope.? Greg said with a chuckle.

Hope dismounted, took off her helmet and got her hand on the notepad and pen she kept on her person at all times. ?What do we have Greg??

?Seems someone was having fun with fire again. We have a melted body in the main display room of Arcana Corporation.? He told her as they both walked into the building.

Hope heard a rising buzz of cursing as various equipment was failing and radios that weren?t silenced began to squelch and hiss from those not in the know on magic versus technology. She needed to write a memo to encourage all GIU?s to follow up on the primer training for new inductees about magic and what it can do. She listened to Greg with a small frown. Soon they arrived before the table she?d seen earlier in the week, the display cases still empty, hints of blue powder lodged in various seems of the electrum framing.

On the precious, burgundy carpet was a bubbled, melted mass that looked and smelled like a tan army man left in a microwave. She knelt near the edge of the melted body and could barely make out the name tag on a bit of blue jumper material. Rodger Kipple. Hope stood up and looked to Mallen.

?Witnesses, Greg? Tell me we have a witness on this?? She asked.

Greg frowned deeply. ?We don?t Hope. He was found around 6 pm today by one of the remaining mages leaving for the day. The body was melted and no one around. With no cameras on the inside it?s anyone?s guess to who killed the person.?

?Flesh Golem.? Hope said. ?He was created by Arcana Corporation, but why would someone kill him here? Given the magical nature of this place I am gathering CSI is having issues getting data??

?Nailed it. We are working on getting in one of the magical investigation teams to check this scene out.? Greg said.

Hope nodded. ?Who was the witness??

Mallen flipped open his own note pad and flipped over several pages. ?Magus Maltem.?

Hope looked a little relieved. ?I?m going to go talk to him.?

?Don?t think that?s wise Jubal. Maltem?s been quieter than a clam holding the crown jewels in its maw. Anyone with the Watch gets a glare and a dismissal.? Greg said.

?Ah. You don?t have what I have. Permission by Mrs. Lillem to speak with him when I need to. I?ll dig into this and try to get some more information.? Hope said.

She headed over to the bald mage who sported a smoky orange robe today. Maltem saw her approach and wore a grimace upon his face.

?Ah, Officer Jubal. Out to get information from me?? Maltem said.

Hope smirked and nodded to him. ?Do you have any information to supply about what happened here? Anything at all??

Maltem was silent at her requests. He closed his eyes in thought then spoke. ?I cannot lend any information to you at this time about the situation that has happened here. Perhaps another time over tea??

Hope picked up on the hint and gave him a small nod of agreement. ?I?ll wait for you to arrange a time for some lovely tea.?

Maltem returned her nod and Hope left the magus alone. Mallen watched the quick exchange of words and stared at Hope. ?Well??

Hope shook her head. ?He won?t talk while on the premises. I have a hunch that they don?t need cameras in this building to know what happens. He acts like someone is holding his silence during the investigation here on Kipple?s death.? She rubbed her face, dark rings haunting her eyes.

?Hope, hit the showers and get some rest. I?ll get the magical investigation unit to send in their reports to your desk. You look too beat to be on the scene without becoming a problem.? Greg said.

Hope barely remember the nod, the salute, the drive back to the 27th precinct or the automated ?yes?, ?no? and ?maybe? answers she gave to any questions. She got to her room and was out like a light.

12-02-2015, 1PM, Cat Tail Cafe

Hope was sitting inside the cozy little cafe done to a motif of wetlands and ponds on the walls and cat tail fronds strategically placed among the tables and booths. She raised her cup of coffee regarding Magus Maltem. The mage was not in the fancy attire mage robes this time, but a simple black jacket and jeans and wearing a ball cap. The man looked absolutely strange in the alien attire. He might think the same seeing Hope in a green hoodie, tan suede pants and sneakers. Between them was an audio recorder slim, sleek and gray on the Lilly pad green table top taking in their conversation.

"It's been over a month since our last chat, Magus Maltem. I was beginning to think you forgot about me or the murder of one of your coworkers, or the theft of your employer?s valuables. Did I say something wrong during the last meeting?" Hope said with a grin.

Maltem looked up at her from his glass of water, his eyes holding an edge of nervous energy to those deep greens. He sipped his water and flinching for a moment as shadows pass by the cafe's glass door. "Officer Jubal this was the soonest time I could find after the Watch came trampling all over Arcana Corporation; Mrs. Lillem flipped out a bit and stayed in her offices for a week. She's become withdrawn and ordered absolute silence from everyone working for her. She keeps tabs on all of us now."

Hope filed away this tidbit in her mind for later review. "So, what did you see that day Rodger Kipple was found melted on the floor?"

Maltem leaned back from his water once he gave the glass door a few more moments of staring. "I saw what you saw, Jubal; a bubbling mess of Flesh Golem and the raspy, wheezing gasps from it. The damage was too severe for me to restore its larynx. Had I been able to do such I could have asked who killed it. Whatever Rodger Kipple knows was in its control sphere."

Hope blinked and gave Maltem a long look. "Excuse me, did you say this thing has a control sphere? That?s like a magical version of a computer, right?"

Maltem gave Hope a hard look. "You know a lot about magic for a regular cop. A control sphere is more like a remote control. It is used to control the Golems, see through them and even records images and sounds they hear."

Well that made a lot of sense, Hope mused. Mrs. Lillem did mention she wouldn't use anything for security she couldn't control herself. "I have a very good mentor. Would this sphere still be salvageable from Kipple? Could things be pulled from it to hear and view?"

Maltem sighed and shook his head. "Maybe if it'd been extracted a few days after Rodger went up in flames. Now? It's just a piece of useless quartz. If you want that kind of information, you'd have to go to the Master Scryer Sphere up in Mrs. Lillem's office. She controls all access to the Flesh Golems."

Hope leaned forward on the table between them. "You are very cooperative and loose tongued today, Magus Maltem. Is your life being threatened right now? I can place you under protective custody as a key witness in this case." She offered.

"Protective custody? Officer Jubal, if Mrs. Lillem wants an employee dead, it will happen, police protection or not; if my number is up, it's up. That's why I felt if I may end up terminated may as well tell you what I can." Maltem said.

Hope sat up straighter, the break she needed in the case at her fingertips. "You gave me a hint the first time we met about how someone could defeat the security system and the magic wards. You were implying that the Flesh Golems could be programmed to commit crimes for their owners?"

"Half correct Officer Jubal. The Flesh Golems made by Arcana Corporation can only do as commanded. They are not capable of their own sentience and will. They just follow orders." Maltem said.

Hope sat back puzzled a moment. Mrs. Lillem was upset about the missing items and firmly against the notion Rodger took the items. The logical train here was that Mrs. Lillem stole the goods with Kipple and then pulled a good cover up on it. Her gut though was leaning to a 'No, Try Again' on that train of thought. What was she missing here?

"So the Golems do not set off the wards or alarms. Can they deactivate wards on the cases?" She asked.

Maltem glanced to the glass door again and made a gesture with his hand that said 'Sort Of'. "Ward deactivation takes either a mage attuned to the wards or someone with their unique body energy worked into the wards to deactivate them. The Golems don't have direct access to ward deactivation. However if one were to control a Golem directly, they could infer the energy needed to deactivate the ward."

Hope hummed a little with that piece of information. "Would Mrs. Lillem steal from herself and try to put a squeeze on her bidders for more money?"

Maltem let out a small cackle. "Mrs. Lillem is strictly by the books. She wouldn't be capable of doing what you suggest as she's not a mage. You can't infer your body energy to a Golem. The process is too lengthy and fails too often. A mage though. A mage can easily infer the energy to open a ward.

Hope scowled a moment. "I assumed Mrs. Lillem was a mage, being the owner of the company."

Maltem laughed more with a tone of lunacy to them. "Mrs. Lillem took over the company about 3 years ago. Her husband started the company and helped catalogue all of the artifacts we have. He was the best mage this side of the West End District."

Hope clued in on the ?Was' Maltem used. "Is Mr. Lillem still alive?

Maltem gave Hope a long, unsettled look. "Depends on your definition of 'Alive'. If you want to speak to him, good luck. You'll have to get through Mrs. Lillem. She's the only one that knows his whereabouts. We do seem him from time to time though during annual business meetings with stock holders."

Hope rubbed her chin more hearing all of this. "Can a Golem take orders from more than one person?"

Maltem put a little thought into his answer. "Generally no. The Flesh Golems we make respond to the owner of it and only to the owner unless you work some heavy spell warping on the control sphere."

Hope mulled over that information as well. She needed to get back into Arcana Corporation and see if she missed something. Hell, she needed to talk to both Lillems, but that meant a proper search warrant and nothing had happened in a while to warrant her just showing up. Warrants needed evidence. She could submit this conversation but that'd be turned down by a judge as just here say by a disgruntled employee. She rubbed her head thinking about the dead guy with no hands. No hands. No hands, white waxy skin. Wait a moment.

Stepping out of her thoughts she pulled out the picture of the body found on the scene back in October and showed Maltem again. "Do you remember me showing you this picture before? I was asking if the symbols on his cheek were part of a cult. Do you know the man by any chance?"

Maltem looked at the picture and shook his head. "Never seen that man before. Why do you ask?"

Hope bit on her lower lip and decided to wing it with her gut feel on something that was overlooked. "This man had white waxy skin and I never thought about the severed wrists at the time. It was a rainy night and I thought maybe the body had been moved and dumped in the alleyway, but the severed stumps had no blood on them. Is he perhaps one of your Flesh Golems?"

Maltem shook his head. "Not from a glance or a photo; if I could see the body without clothing or poke at the wound maybe. Finger prints would work as well. Flesh Golems have their serial numbers etched into each finger print." He looked like he wanted to say more but shadows blocked the glass door and didn't move on. "I think it's time I got going Officer Jubal. Just check into finger prints and look into the Flesh Golem Registry at Arcana Corporation."

Maltem stood, and moved for the other exit of the cafe. Hope watched in a moment of confusion getting more information but the sudden cut off and departure giving her an urge to follow Maltem. She pulled the audio recorder from the table and moved after Maltem. The mage had gone out the door in a rapid walk.

She'd just opened the door and spotted his jacket moving away from her heading for the deeper section of the West End district when a car rounded the corner. The El Camino was more rust and gray primer than the split pea soup green on its hood. Maltem froze seeing the car and started to back away. The El Camino sped up, its poor engine knocking bad on some homemade fuel. Before Hope could even think to call out a warning to the mage or move for him, the car sped past him and the whole side of the Cat Tail Cafe was riddled with bullets from the occupants of the car.

Hope hit the deck as the car sped by. She caught a glimpse of the dirty plate on it; New Jersey 392-QZA. A glance back to Maltem showed that the mage had been gun down and lay unmoving on the sidewalk. Patrons were screaming in the cafe as some of those near window must have been; they were crying out for aid. Hope picked herself up, a bit shaky and moved for Maltem. She knew before she touched his neck that he was dead. Catching five rounds in the head would kill a man. Hope pulled out her phone and dialed into the Watch and EMT hotline.

12-06-2015, 2AM, Rhy?Din City Morgue:

The banging thud of a fist knocking on the metal door of Rhy?Din City Morgue echoed through the halls of the dead. Soon the door creaked open letting a gust of dry, cold air that kept bodies so fresh and preserved. A man with skin that rarely saw sun and a face that held slightly more life than Herman Munster greeted Hope; faded greens falling on the woman?s name badge and distinct uniform.

?You do realize it?s not normal for a visit from the Watch at two in the morning, Officer Jubal.?He said, a glimpse of his white scrubs he wore and the touches of colored stains best left unexplained.

Hope looked at the name tag smudged in something green on the man?s chest. ?Well this isn?t a typical visit, Nort Gruben.? She said. ?I?m here to see if you actually still have a body in your custody from a murder investigation. It was back in October, around the 19th and the body was tied up in rope and missing both hands.?

Nort rubbed his chin and allowed her to enter. Haunting sounds of a violin echoed in the cold morgue. Nort walked to a metal desk that was dwarfed by his height of 6?10?. He rifled through a mound of folders and snatched out a very battered clipboard with a small novel of paper clipped to it. He began flipping through the sheets in a slow, determined manner.

Hope did her best not fidget while the man trudged through is paperwork. Morgues set her on edge. It was the final destination for too many people, no matter the line of work. They always had that sickening sharp scent of cold, death and embalming fluids. Rhy?din?s morgue upped the ante by having two doors of admittance to the mortuary rooms. A simple pair of swing doors to the left and a large, heavy metal door with dead bolts to the right and a simple sign taped to it; Here Be Monsters.

Nort finally made a small rumble as he finished digesting half of the novel on the clip board. ?Male, White, 5?3?, Missing hands, Strangled with rope and shot in the head. Cause of death, None of the above. We still have the body. No one has come forward to claim him yet.?

?You said the cause of death was not from the injuries. What does the coroner think caused the man?s death?? Hope asked, seeing if her hunch lined up with facts.

?Follow me and you will see, Officer Jubal.? Nort said.

He led her off to the Monsters Be Here door. Hope felt like the day was starting out like a cheesy horror movie and by the end of it she was betting she?ll be running from some horror in shredded clothes and one bullet left to fire. She looked about the mortuary once they passed through the unbolted and drawn heavy steel door. Unlike most mortuaries she?s seen on Earth, this one had dead bolts upon the cooler doors and some had what she could barely decipher as warding spell glyphs added to them. Monsters Be Here indeed.

Nort went to the far end of the cooler lockers and withdrew two dead bolts. The small insulated door swung to the left and he pulled the sliding metal slab out from the cold depths. Upon that slab, covered to his neck in a clean, pressed linen sheet, was the handless man from the rain soaked alley way. Hope stared at the body for a long moment, her brown eyes narrowing at the man. Any signs of discoloration, ligature markings, bruises and frostbite were gone.

?Are you sure this is the same body Nort? He was in worse condition than this when he was found. Yet he seems untouched now?? Hope said.

Nort harrumphed. ?Officer Jubal. I know my dead bodies. This is the same body as what you found. What you are missing is the body paint and makeup applied to the body to make it look as a corpse. Synthetic flesh does not have capillaries, blood flow or reaction to temperature like real flesh. This is a...?

?An Arcana Flesh Golem. I suspected as much.? Hope went over to the body.

The rag over the eyes had been removed; the eyelids closed and seemed sunken. She lifted up the eyelids and pulled back as if bitten by a snake. The eye sockets were empty and the control sphere socket behind the left eye like on Rodger Kipple was empty. She wanted to curse. Without hands, the control sphere was all she had to go on to tie this Golem to the murder of Rodger Kipple. She rubbed her face and took a moment to think. The spheres had runes and numbers on them that may have been a serial number to trace. Outside of that, the finger prints had serial numbers as well, but this body was missing his hands.

She looked to Nort. ?The body has been washed, removing any further evidence. I suppose it?s too much to hope that any fingers prints on the flesh was found and recorded??

Nort pursed his lips in thought, drew up that clipboard and consulted the pages. ?Prints were detected and recorded for investigative uses as well as full photographs of the ritual impressions on the cheeks.?

Hope looked to Nort then to the man?s cheeks. ?Ritual impressions? These marks are not carved into the synthetic flesh??

Nort shook his head in disagreement. He moved closer to the body and pressed his large, calloused fingers over the synthetic flesh. ?As you can see here, there is no signs of incision or avulsion to the flesh. It is simply crushed and indented, as if the man was struck with an item bearing the marks. X-rays show the cheek bones are cracked suggesting further support of blunt force trauma. But that is still not what killed him. We don?t often get Flesh Golems in here from Arcana, but when we do, they typically display Control Sphere Ejection.?

Hope felt she?d given the mortician a classic ?Deer in the Headlights? look. ?So someone punched him in the face with objects that had the symbols on them, then took him out by ejecting the sphere like some Brittney Spears CD? Just how many of these Golems have come through here??

Nort rubbed his chin. ?I?ll have to check the archives but I want to say around eight others, this one making the ninth.?

?And Rodger Kipple in evidence making it ten. Could I by any chance request a copy of your archives sent to the GIU offices of the 27th Division. I just need the ones showing any information you have on those Golems. What is usually done with the Golems for disposal?? Hope asked.

Nort sat down his clipboard and rolled the body back into the locker and bolted the door shut. He?d wave for Hope to follow him out of the mortuary. She was only too happy to oblige him. She hadn?t realized she?d been holding her breath so much until she started breathing in the scent of death laden air. They stopped by his metal desk once more and he opened a drawer with a metallic groan and pop. He withdrew a brown envelope and placed it on the desktop.

?A copy of the prints and photos taken of the body before it was cleaned and prepared for disposal. Most of the Golems were sent back to Arcana for repair or recycling. Arcana Corporation has a tendency of reusing the donor skeletons as long as they are intact. This one may be discarded; hard to say. I?ll have an intern bring over the requested copies of our records.? He did pause a moment and stared right at Hope with those faded green eyes. ?You seem rather disturbed being in a morgue. What frightens you so much about the dead??

Hope was taken by surprise with that question. She wasn?t sure how to really answer him. ?I suppose death touches me as a cold, real finality, the end of a life and any possible meaning from it. When I came to Rhy?Din, I?ve learned death is not always the end to things and sometime you can come back as a monster.?

Nort chuckled and took a lean against the cool wall of the Morgue reception area. ?Well you are correct that death can be very final for many even in Rhy?Din. But you really shouldn?t be scared of the monsters.?

Hope tilted her head to Nort. ?How do you come by that logic. Monsters are deadly, lethal and usually have violence and death following them like a tsunami. They seem to have no morals or reservations.?

Nort chuckled even more. ?Very astute observation by someone who still thinks they aren?t a monster.?

Hope drew in an indignant breath. ?I am not a monster. I serve law enforcement. I help people. I do what I have to do to make something right.?

Nort moved to an old vending machine by the exit door and punched in an order for two cokes. He took the cans from the drop bin and tossed one to Hope. ?Spoken like a true monster. You see, monsters are not scary. They wear their hearts on their sleeves. You see them for what they are and they don?t make any pretenses about being something else. They are very honest that way. The real monsters are people. They are the wild cards of life. You never know what a person will do, be or believe until it?s too late. Not so with monsters, they know what they are, deal with what they are and fit into the equation. Death is just the sum of that equation, the great equalizer that claims monster and person alike. So, Officer Jubal, what kind of monster are you??

Hope caught the can of coke and cracked it open. Hearing the explanation she frowned a bit. Her a monster? She didn?t go around killing people. Yeah, she had the urge to plug a few people over the year but did that make her a monster? She just wanted to keep people safe and make sure peace was enforced while the bad guys were locked up. Then again, weren?t bad guys a person just doing what they felt was right in their own minds? Without law enforcement, their right was might and not considered evil. With that framework of mentality that would make her a monster of justice; a monster of white light and peace at the cost of ?normalcy? for many in Rhy?Din.

?Hmm. I don?t know what kind of monster I am, yet.? She said to Nort. Hope picked up the brown envelope, left a business card with her office number at the 27th Division and left the morgue.

1-21-2016, 6PM, Central Fountain, Market Place District - A Request

Hope walked the Marketplace, cane tapping on the paving stones as she let her mind turn and gnaw on the Missing Hand case. She hated to leave Greg back at headquarters wondering if she?d finally lost her sanity over the case. She hadn?t lost her mind; she just needed more evidence than what they had at the moment. Her hand slid into her new Watch coat and her fingers pressed upon the cold quartz control orb that was cracked and blackened. The rank of Captain had opened doors up on getting evidence released to her custody. She drew her attention from the orb as she saw a dim, curved reflection of a woman clad in a black trench coat. Hope caught sight of woman in jeans and leather shoes. The face is what snapped in her mind as fitting One from the brief introduction Brian had given her. The woman that may hold the key to getting the case solved sooner. She limped over to the fountain as quickly as she could.

One stood before the fountain at the center of the square, adorned in a thick black, wool trench coat. Never did she dress in modern attire, but evidently, this time, she looked like she would fit right in at Stars End with the blue jeans and leather shoes. With her long black hair tied back, her abyssal eyes stared out at the flow of water that poured from its spout, the noise of the moving water crashing into the collection bowl that held captured hundreds of gold coins, thrown into by passerby?s as a form of good luck or, as the saying goes, so that they could make a wish.

"Excuse me, uhm, One." Hope said to the woman. "Could I trouble you with something?"

One kept her gaze on something . . . but honestly, she was a million miles away. With a network of clones to control and a kingdom to maintain via mere thought, it was no wonder she barely noticed the approach of Hope, to which she remembered very clearly. After all . . . everyone is profiled. With the voice breaking her from concentration, she turned her head just enough to stare down vacant, emotionless eyes at her. "Address me appropriately then I may consider your request."

Hope looked at One with a confused look. "Uhm. Okay. I'm new to this. What is the proper way to address you?" she asked nicely. She couldn't afford to blow this contact.

"Renna." She tilted a brow. "Funny how a woman of your rank does not know who or what this face is before you... have you not heard of me?" She frowned. "No matter. You may call me One... I'll let it slide for now." She turned to fully regard her, eyes narrowed. "I smell a crystal on you."

"Ah, I am still getting caught up on the paperwork and have only been around this city for a year. I'm usually not around many high profile cases . . . never mind. Yeah. I have a crystal." Hop dug Rodger Kipple?s control orb out. "I need to know what this crystal saw and recorded in a usable format somehow." The crystal she handed Rena was cracked and blackened on the inside, evidence of a severe malfunction with the control glyph.

One's eyes glanced down to the object, frowning a little. To anyone around her, it would appear she was just staring at it, but the fact of the matter is the woman was scanning the crystal while the Captain held it in her hand. "I see . . . the lattice in various positions in its structure has been damaged. This can mean one of two things. Either the information you seek to obtain from this device has been corrupted beyond repair, or momentarily inaccessible, providing certain molecular links have not been severed." She held out her hand. "I detect its functionality, however. It yet still functions for the moment."

Hope offered the crystal over to Rena. "Well I do know the mage that was in charge of the companies research department mentioned these control orbs are linked to a master scrying orb of some kind. He did say the orb had a short life span once the golem died. Information I didn't get until it was too late. Maybe you can get into that main orb?"

"If this orb acts as a node to a larger network, I can, yes, access it." One lifted the orb close to her face, before looking over it to her. "Magic works similar to technology. Fortunately this right here is a work of perfect Crystallomancy. It is a very adorable item... Now, explain to me why I should help you?" One raised a brow at her. "What do I get out of this act of kindness?"

"Ah, yes. Well, as you know I am the new acting Captain of the 27th Watch Division. What . . . would you like in exchange for your services?" Hope asked Rena.

With her leather grip around the orb tightening, One leaned forward, grinning wickedly. "How about a kiss?"

"Say what?" Hope said pulling back a moment. "A kiss?"

One straightened her posture and returned to looking at the orb, ignoring Hope's reaction. "I suppose I will give this one for free since you know Brian so well and, well, you have the 27th under your belt . . . myself and that division go way back . . ." She licked her lips. "Some of the tastiest meals I had in Rhy'din . . . but, I digress . . ." One released the orb, using her magic to suspend it before her eyes. "It will take some time to restore it. But cracking the network won't be just as easy as attempting to hijack it." One smirked to herself then. "What is it you are looking for exactly?"

"Visual or video footage from a flesh golem...." Hope pulled out her note book. "Rodger Kipple, serial number ACFG-124-280.15 as well as footage from the flesh golem with a serial number of BLFS-005. I'm . . . well have a hunch and probable cause that both golems have seen who stole the original items and who killed them both."

"Allow me to say this now, so it is out of the way, but if I help, the crystal will no longer be of any use to you. You can forget having it back." One said.

Hope blew out a sigh. "I figured that would be the case. It's considered scrapped and not useful as evidence in court. The footage though."

One thought about it, then, nodded. "I will help you. I will translate all the data I can and attempt to breach the network to which is connected to this device. Perhaps I will learn something else if I better hack it."

"Well anything else you find in their networks I can't stop you on. I just need the footage, though if you happen to find any files on Brimstone.... copies would be cool. Toxicology report came back from one of the golems; one of them had white powder inside them that registered as Brimstone. I know Brian was chewing on something big with that drug name attached." Hope said a little eager.

"Any to all information will be handed over to you, Captain. I promise you that." One gripped the crystal tightly. "I will take this to my facility over at the Docks and will have this thing repaired by the week's end. I will attempt access after this. Hopefully it will not take too long . . ." Pausing, she then glanced in direction of the Docks, as if finding something far more interesting in that general direction. "Given the nature of this case I will give you access to the Box." She nodded slowly. "You have clearance into the facility to view the status of my progress. Granted, I will not be the one you will be liaising with."

"The Box?" Hope asked. "And thank you . . . O . . . Rena. Thank you Rena." She heard Rena mention someone else to contact. "Who will I be speaking with then?"

"The Box is a subterranean prison facility I have established at the docks. This information is not classified, so I have no issue responding to that question." One smirked at hearing her true name. "You will be dealing with a clone of mine called Grey. She is the Director of the facility and the leading power of my authority here in Rhy'din."

"Grey . . ." Hope noted the name down in her book so she didn't make the same mistake again. "Thank you Rena. I get the feeling we'll be crossing paths often." She gave Rena a smile. "So by week?s end, find Grey then at the Docks?"

"Perhaps we will, perhaps we won't, but I think I heard it is wise not to cross paths with me often... I'm some kind of black hole of bad luck . . ." One mused. "But yes. Don't worry about finding Grey. Chances are she will find you."

Hope just made a silent 'Ah' face and a nod to Rena then. "I'll leave you be then. Stay warm." She'd limp off for the offices of the 27th Watch Division again.

5-24-2016, 4PM, 27th Special Operations Division, Rhy?Din Watch, Meeting Room B, Evidence Review ? Missing Hands Case

Four months. Four long months had crawled by as Hope worked every drop of evidence out of the data card Grey had given her from Kipples command orb. The first month she couldn?t believe the wealth of evidence she?d uncovered and viewed. The second and third months she tried to wrap her mind around all the pieces of the puzzle that made her case look like a toddlers coloring page in a large mosaic upon a Cathedral Wall. The fourth month she was finally down to hammering it all into place like a child trying to make pieces of a puzzle fit even if they were to a different puzzle. And what wouldn?t fit was held onto for a rainy day, and oh many rainy days were to come if this was all correct.

Hope now sat in a conference room with Mallen, a projector screen up with a digital projector and laptop hooked up and running. Several file folders lay open with print outs of still frames from videos, lists of serial numbers, shipping manifests, dates of shipments and enough data on various topics to sink the Titanic in paper. Mallen looked over all of the paper and then at a very grim and sunken eyed Hope.

?Do I dare ask what this whole mess is about and how someone finally dragged you out of your office for more than 10 minutes in the last several months? There had better be coffee and some donuts as well.? Greg asked a touch worried about his obsessed partner.

Hope leaned back and smiled with coolness. ?Coffee and donuts will be arriving soon. Just sit back and watch the show Greg. I?m about to rock your world and show you just what the hell we?ve been dealing with in the Missing Hands Case.? The lights in the office dimmed and Hope started presenting her case evidence.

?The Missing Hands Case I had been assigned to has been going on for over a year in investigations. So far, it?s been labeled a cold case that has racked up a staggering number of bizarre yet interlocked incidents within it. At the time I thought there were only one to two counts of murder in the beginning, but with both victims being proven to be flesh golems, murder now turns to property damage. Now add to that list theft of property reported by Margery Lillem, then three counts of arson with their warehouses, and now probable murder with the drive by gunning of Magus Crajor Maltem. The gray primed El Camino with the New Jersey plate of 392-QZA was found at Arcana Corporation and RDMV has found it registered to the company. I?ve got people sifting records and recordings on that car the day Magus Maltem was mowed down as well as HR Documents from Arcana Corporation to see if he was part of a ?Seal Up? order for employees terminated. So, that?s the current score board up to January of this year. After having some consultation work done by one of Captain Ravenlock?s associates, a Ms. Grey, we were able to repair Roger Kipple?s control orb granting us access to new evidence as well as Arcana Corporation Database.? Hope said, sliding through several crime scene slides showing the man missing his hands in the alleyway, the empty display cases, the burning warehouse, the melted body of Roger Kipple, a rusting El Camino parked in Arcana Corporation?s garage, and finally the bullet riddled body of Magus Crajor Maltem.

Greg spoke a bit roughly. ?Hope, poking through a company?s secured files without a warrant or their express permission is considered illegal and discredits all evidence found. You damn well know better than this.?

?Tsk. Greg. I didn?t root through their files. All I asked for was the contral orb to be repaired so we could have access to the video feed files from Rodger Kipple, which we would be allowed to access as it is connected to hard evidence. The consultant was the one that found and reported the additional files when the videos were located as a concerned Rhy?Din citizen. I accepted the submitted evidence by said Rhy?Din citizen who was simply evoking her civic rights to report suspicious and criminal behavior to investigate by a court of law. So, the evidence is a legitimate and valid submission Greg and if you are going to spout at me the moral ethics about working with pirates and digital hackers I?ll personally wedge the box of donuts coming down your throat. Half of the internet system that runs in this damn realm is run and maintained by them.? Hope said with smirk that dared argument.

Greg gave a sigh leaned back and was happy to see coffee and donuts arrived. He snagged a strong, black brew and a glazed beauty and decided that silence was safe right now. He waved the donut at Hope to continue her madness. He just knew Brian was going to be making track marks up his back side for not riding hard reigns on the fledgling captain that had been cooped up in her office for too long over one case.

Triumphant at winning her point, Hope continued without a single drop in her tenacity. ?Now let me present to you the main players of tonight?s mystery theater. We all know Margery Lillem as the current owner of the Arcana Corporation and the initial victim of theft as well as the initial reporter of the crime. We have Roger Kipple, the janitorial Flesh Golem, now melted in our evidence lockup as the witness of the items found missing. Our mystery handless man, also a Flesh Golem, is chilling at the Rhy?Din Morgue for disposal after a premature control orb ejection who is our star faux murder victim, Magus Crajor Maltem is most likely buried or cremated by now after being gunned down and was Arcana Corporations? head of Research and Development. However, we have two guest players that have yet to appear, Greg. Please meet Brandon Lillem, original founder and prior owner of Arcana Corporation and still major share holder of the company. Remember how I told you that the handless flesh golem had the designation of BLFS-005??

Still frames of each person she mentioned slid through her presentation to stop on a still shot of a bald man that should have been vibrant in his late 40?s. He was instead haggard, thin and wide eyed with a very pale complexion, his eyes a pale, sickly green. Replacing his image was a cross indexed list of serial numbers and manufacturing notes from Magus Maltem?s R&D records as well as a side by side comparison of two Golem manufacturing specifications.

?The designation stood for Brandon Lillem Flesh Storage, number 5 out of 12. I ran a check, all of the broken golems the morgue have on record are BLFS.? Hope said.

Greg pursed his lips and looked to Hope as if to say silently ?And?? Hope blinked and smacked a palm into her forehead. She?d been working so close with the data that she knew it too much by heart. Greg wouldn?t.

?I wondered why they were labeled as Flesh Storage and not Flesh Golem like the rest. If you look at the design comparisons you will see that a normal Flesh Golem made by Arcana Corporation is densely packed with electronics and wiring to better serve their masters. The Flesh Storage units were simplistic, heavy duty but most of their chest cavity was hollow like a drum. But why? Why would a guy need 12 of these things? I thought maybe, being in the magical artifact business it was for safeguarding and transporting the goods. These things weren?t built until three years ago though, after he gave control of the company to Margery Lillem. A year later, the Flesh Golems are designed and produced as well. So protecting and delivering artifacts was not the need. I dug into files provided and found a ton of financial transactions for small trade deals between Brandon and almost every brothel, lay over, hostel and tavern in West End and Dockside. However, he had several small ones going to a little brothel in the West End called the Silk Purse & Garrote Strings. The place is owned by Lonni Rouge.? Hope said flicking to a picture of a pale, well dressed matron of a woman that one would expect to see running a house of ill repute in Victorian times.

Greg heard the name Lonni Rouge and groaned. ?Oh come on, Hope. That woman is a has-been drug dealer working the streets with her undead hussies. She hasn?t done anything since 2014 when Brian started working out the Brims . . . frack, that Lonni Rouge??

Hope grinned from ear to ear. ?That Lonni Rouge that was tied up with the death of the Haliford Brothers that Brian had to deal with and the Brimstone Letters. So, these little transactions weren?t for Brandon to go dip his beak every week because the misses was not putting out. They were getting him doses of Brimstone to take. Here we see his first BLFS with him at the club. The next photo is the Golem watching him pay and take the drugs. These transactions go on for three years Greg but Brandon didn?t stop there. He got addicted then went further.?

She clicked to the last still photo of a man with pale ebony skin, hazel eyes and ruby lensed glasses. Greg stared in disbelief. ?You must have gotten bad data. That man has been missing for what, two years and presumed dead after a report from a sniper told us some vampire drug the body off to finish him. There is no way Ivan Vel Yovin, The Black Knight of Chemistry is still alive.?

Hope grinned like the cat that caught the canary and got away with it. ?I thought so too, until this video was found.?

*Before them, upon the projection screen played out a conversation in an office that was dim; sunlight streamed in through closed shutters as desk lamps glowed in the swirls of thick narcotic smoke as the golem recording the conversation held a tray of silver with two tumblers of brandy waiting to serve two men. Both of them were sitting upon chairs of dragon ivory and finely leathered in dragon hide. Between them was a large, hand carve desk of mahogany with a bas relief of Rhy?Din City, each new expansion newly chiseled in each year upon the top surface of the desk. Behind the desk sat Brandon Lillem, bald pate glistened with sweat, green eyes sunken into a glassy stupor as he watched the other man with apprehension and a small sneer on his pasty lips. His mage robes, once red velvet now moth eaten and threadbare.

The other man was dressed in a clean, black cotton tunic and black cotton pants along with a simple tabard of white upon his chest showing a bleeding red rose upon a tombstone, the sign of Lonni Rouges Red Court of Vampires. His ebony skin was light as usual and he was very calm, reserved and his pale eyes had a lot of displeasure with the sickly man before him. He was every bit the living and breathing flesh of Ivan Vel Yovin.

?Brandon. You disappoint the Red Queen of my court. You do realize that don?t you?? Ivan said with a voice of silk and ash.

Brandon flinched a moment back into the rigidity of his chair from Ivan. ?I?ve done everything she?s asked! The Brimstone has been moving securely through Arcana Corporation like you ask. I?ve instructed my wife to keep our staff out of the building during the night. Only our flesh golems touch the Brimstone and they are very tidy in sealing up the drug within each artifact that has been bid upon. Nothing has gone wrong, Vel Yovin.?

Ivan closed his eyes once and the removed his glasses and folded them up before placing them into a breast pocket upon the black tunic he wore. He leaned forward and stared intently at Brandon, pale hazels voiced a silent promise that he was not amused. ?Mr. Lillem, lying to me is not wise. I do not take kindly to my dealers and mules lying to me when my queen demands utmost respect and loyalty to her in her times of need. Word on the street tells me some of the artifacts were taken by your wife to be sold to a higher bidder that was not on our agreed list. Furthermore, our little bats at the morgue tell me your golem shows up with my Brimstone still in its chest. Had they not been there to carry it off to a much more deserving dealer, the mortician would have found it and you?d be answering a lot of questions by the local Watch. Not all of their agents are stupid. Which brings me to the matter of your houses affairs, they are from being in order. You?re wife is interfering in our business agreement. It is costly to my Queen to fund your golem mules to be made if your wife continues to have them broken by some vain notion that you can conduct business clean and sound of mind.?

Brandon stared at Ivan like a chicken stares at a fox that has found itself inside the coop. ?She . . . she . . . just cares for my well being. I don?t sleep well anymore and the drugs are so costly to keep buying when more crackdowns keep happening. She means well . . . but I can?t be without the Brimstone. For once, I am healthier than I have ever been when I take it. I can think clearly and my magic comes to me with ease and the mage blight is of no issue . . .?

Ivan leaned back, his subtle contempt shifted to subtle sincerity. ?Of course she means well, but you are such a sick man that she cannot understand your full needs. It is why you gave her the public face to run while you came to me to produce a cure for you and to take my Brimstone until I could find a sufficient one to fully remove the mage blight from you. That cure is close at hand as long as you keep the Brimstone flowing through Arcana Corporation with no further incidents. My Red Queen will pay for six more of your storage golems to be built. They are not to be broken or she will visit you next time, not I and she tends to her business in the fluid weights of blood. I suggest you get your affairs in order, Brandon, or I may have to do it for you. You do not want my hand in your household.? Ivan smiled a thin slit upon that light ebony face showing white teeth and fangs.

The video clip cuts out as Brandon waves over the golem and the men take their tumblers of brandy to drink. Ivan was seen handing Brandon several clear vials of orange pills and Brandon eagerly opened a vial taking one.*

Greg rubbed his face for a moment after the video ended. Hope watched him a long moment and took the moment to get herself some of the coffee that was cooling on the table. She sipped it slowly then spoke. ?Ivan is very alive Greg and those Brimstone Letters are still in play. What I saw from the case files Brian had and worked up, this Ivan only got through half of his plan then vanished. Now he?s back but on the wrong team again and not even the same team. Worse, he?s mucking around in my case. But what they discussed, checks out. Here?s the feed from Rodger Kipple?s eyes the night our missing hands man showed up in the alleyway.?

*The video clip started from the perspective of someone waiting in an alley. There was no shift or waver of the video from someone that normally breathes. Across from the spectator was a rusty metal door with faded paint marking it as the back entry for a club called the Black Rooster. The focus drifted from the door down to a set of man?s hands with doll hair set into skin looking too perfectly tan then back up to the back door of the Black Rooster. The door soon creaked open and the man with the missing hands, except he had them still in the video, stepped outside. The man?s hands were not empty though. He held an obsidian lock in one hand, and a silver key in the other hand.

The man seemed to stare at the spectator of the video and then began to walk down the alley way for the street, in a manner suggesting no alarm or worry was to be had. The spectator moved to pursue the man with rapid steps and reached out, grabbing the man by the arm and threw him into the exterior wall of the club with enough force to dislodge some bricks. The man, if he was human should have been down and unconscious, dead even from his injuries, but instead of remaining in a crumpled heap; he stood up and began to move away again. The spectator then moved in and solidly began to punch the man in the face and chest repeatedly; the sounds of bones cracking could be heard.

The man falls to the wet alley way floor and the spectator kneels down, leaving the man to his slow demise. The field of focus goes from the downed man to the wall that he was thrown into and then the alley floor by it. The ebony lock and the silver key lay there, dropped. The spectator picked up each item, one in each hand and then returned to the man. The spectator began to mercilessly pummel the face of the man until his eyes pop out and the site of a control sphere ejects into the spectators chest. The focus of view goes from the beaten face to the control sphere and a closed hand raises then slams down smashing the sphere to dust. The spectator stands and looks further down the alleyway as the site of Margery Lillem appears with a canvas bag in her hands. She points past the spectator as she begins to remove a very sharp knife, rope and a makeup kit from the bag. The clip ends as the spectator takes a slow walk through the West End of Rhy?Din to show up at Arcana Corporation and proceeds to pick up a bucket of cleaning supplies after dumping the key and the lock into an incinerator. The spectator then went about cleaning the facility.*

Greg watched the clip play out and grunted. ?So, Margery Lillem has invalidated her claims of theft and went up to a charge of falsifying charges, obstructing due process and aiding and abetting a drug dealer as well as possibly instituting a corporate murder policy. This is a hot and heavy mess Hope, especially with Brimstone in the mix. But something is still a bit off, the warehouses? Why were they torched? I don?t recall your reports showing signs of Brimstone residue in the chemical trace reports.?

Hope nodded. ?I found that disturbing as well until I did a cross reference of the date and time of the fire. During the time of the fires, around 1 pm on October 25th, several things happened while Watch and the Coast Guard were fighting the blaze at Pier 50.? She clicked through three slides showing minor reports to the Watch and on the local new that was overshadowed by the fires. ?At 1:30pm roughly, reports of automatic gunfire is reported in the West End district and several bodies found to be later identified as members of a minor gang called the White Bats. The White Bats have been on and off of every precincts radar as low level pushers and dealers in drugs. The bodies found had high levels of raw Brimstone dust on them. So whoever whacked them was using tying up their connection use to get Brimstone. At the scene was found tire skid marks. They match an El Camino. Crime lab has matched it to the one at Arcana Corporation. That little car is getting heavy use for a company care. The second report is two ships off the coast of Rhy?Din City were found pirated, the crew locked up and the cargo all stolen. What were stolen were various artifacts and mass castings and molds for making various fine items. I have a hunch this is how they?ve been making fancy looking custom junk to sell as a front for smuggling the Brimstone out to the buyers in legitimate looking artifacts sold at auction. Lastly, the rise of reports of Brimstone deaths in local clinics rose three days after the fire, so sales of the drugs on the street have gone up after a long lock down.?

Greg nodded. ?Burn down something easily rebuilt housing nothing but air to help move things around while all eyes are on the bright fire. You have more than enough evidence to nail the Lillem?s and Arcana Corporation to the wall Hope. I?ll start the warrant process and you?ll have one in your hand in 24 hours.? He said with firm support of his captain and partner. The evidence was too staggering to produce a shadow of doubt that the Lillem?s were innocent here.

Hope smiled in tired victory as things fell into place. She was about to grab a donut when the intercom went off. *All units. All units. 10-18 (Urgent), 10-67 (Person Calling for Help), 10-72 (Shooting). Arcana Corporation. Victim is on the line. 10-52 (Ambulance Needed). Victim reports being shot. Victim is still in vicinity of hostile shooter.*

She left the donuts alone, exited the conference room and entered her office grabbing her radio and strapping on her side arm. ?Dispatch, GIU13 here. 10-4. Inform the 3rd and 4th Watch Divisions to close off streets around Arcana Corporation, set up a perimeter and keep civilians away. Possible hostile mage on narcotics in that building, 27th Watch units arriving as back up. We need a negotiator as well.? she barked as she headed out of her office with Greg hot on her heels.

5-24-2016, 5:30 PM, Arcana Corporation, Breach into Hell:

Hope didn?t remember the mad press for the double steel doors of the building. She only remembered bracing against black brick, firing once, maybe twice into two Flesh Golems as she aimed for their eyes dropping them, the control spheres shattered. SWAT picked off more Flesh Golems as they broke past the failing water barrier of the Fire Brigades. A weighty explosion of super heated water announced another fire engine died under the wrath of Brandon and soon their left flank was exposed. Several SWAT members were rapidly deploying shaped charges at locks and hinges and then Hope heard the universal signal.

?CLEAR!!?

Metal and bits of DET cord peppered back from the explosion as the team hugged the wall. The heavy steel doors fell forward upon the soaked steps; booted feet thundered up them, their owners pressed for haste as Flesh Golems pressed at them now with both flanks free of high pressure water. Hope surged ahead into the starkly lit, white-blue interior of Arcana Corporation. Several rounds chewed into the brick wall from a rifle wielding Flesh Golem that forced Hope to tackle a wall for cover.

Hope cursed heavily and called out. ?Hostiles all sides. Aim for the faces!? She popped around the corner of the wall and sank two shots into the Flesh Golem?s head on the stairs that held an M-16 rifle. The Flesh Golem tilted and rolled with a crash on the landing of the stairs at her feet. ?SWAT clear and hold this floor! Call in a second team! I need two on me! Sweeping upstairs! Send a third team to the back! Watch for fire and fumes! That is their manufacturing area for the golems! Expect heavy resistance!? She bellowed.

She caught sight of SWAT members flanking and then filing out into the halls and sweeping into the first floor. Calls of ?All Clear" came from secured points while heavy chatter from MP5 assault rifles punctuated the heavy silence of Flesh Golem choke points. Two members formed up by her and she gave them a nod.

?Follow my lead and stick hard on my tail. We are dealing with a flipped out mage which means all three of us can die in an instant. His hostage is your priority one. You see a free shot to grab her safely and bolt do so. Leave the mage for me to distract and neutralize. Now let?s kick this Brimstone loving mother fucker?s ass to the curb hard! Mount up!? She gave a hard slap to each shoulder guard of the SWAT members for moral support and led the ascent up the stairs covering the way with her gun.

Smoke was rolling thick in a short hallway when Hopes head cleared over the landing. She ducked catching sight of lifeless eyes. The sounds of a .50 caliber machine gun gnawed the air above her and her team in the stairwell. There was no way this was Brandon Lillem going insane on his own. This much firepower had to come from either a drug cartel or Ivan. She looked to the SWAT members and one gave a thumbs up and pulled free a periscope and his rifle. Hope traded places and watched the man scope out the hall and edges his rifle up into position. With precision the machine gun chatter was silenced with three shots putting the Flesh Golem down for good. The SWAT member rose and moved onto the landing and crouched. A moment or two of inspection and he waved them up to take positions against the walls.

A quick sweep forward brought the team to the dead Flesh Golem that lay on the floor before a divide in the hall, one hall to the left and one to the right, both framed with windows. They could see the broken windows that Brandon had been at and a trail of blood leading to the left down the hall to a closed door. The hall down to the right lead to a metal door with a magical glyph lock on it and that had Hope curious for a moment. She led her team down the hall to the left. Curiosity was dead last and a hostage bleeding was more important. That was also where she believed she?d find Brandon. Hope braced the right side of the door while a SWAT member braced the left side. That left their rifle man in the quarter back roll to do what needed to be done, kick the door down and look for trouble. He crouched, ready for action and looked to Hope.

Hope slammed a closed fist against the wood door three times. ?WATCH and SWAT! Put you?re weapons down on the ground and step away from the door and hostages!?

She flinched back as buck shot tore through the wood showering the rifleman with splinters and shot that rattled off of his SWAT armor. Hope gave him a nod and he sprinted from the crouch and gave oak wood around the door?s handle and lock area a solid leaping kick. Wood splintered and metal sheared as the door slammed back into the room, rattling the hinges hard. The rifleman hit the floor hard grabbing his rifle and brought it to bear on the shot gun wielding Flesh Golem parting its head with several fired shots. His pride at marksmanship was short lived as he stood and came face to face with Brandon Lillem holding a pale and weakly struggling Margery Lillem by the waist to shield him. The rifleman covered Brandon with the rifle. ?Hands in the air now! Step away from the Hostage!?

Hope looked in and saw him confronting Brandon. She saw the mage grinning with sheer delight in his eyes seeing the rifle trained on him. The free hand of the mage was moving and her stomach went cold from training with Mach. She grabbed the other SWAT members shoulder as he was about to go in. ?No, stay! Get out of there!? She called out to the rifleman.

Yellow luminescence glowed about the mages gnarled hand. Ripples of a blue white heat swirled into a ball of rapidly heated air before the very molecules of oxygen and hydrogen vibrated to bursting into the ardent flare of vibrant orange and red that was a fire ball. All in a span of a second the mage went from sneering to engulfing the SWAT member in magical flame that consumed greedily anything it touched. The man screamed in agony for a second as his lungs began to sear shut, rounds from his rifle exploded rendering the gun useless and sinking lead into the walls. His body ran on primal instinct for survival as he mind was overcome by shear pain and agony. Hope hugged the wall as the human torch ran out the room and made a dive head first out of a broken window to land on the street bellow like a guttering candle of humanity.

?You magic slinging piece of shit! I?m going take you down!? Screamed the other SWAT member. Hope pushed off the wall and body checked him into cover as another fire ball scorched out and set her prior resting place to charcoal. The heat made her hair singe and curl some. ?You idiot! Stay here and watch for the woman. When she is free, grab her and run! Unless you want to be the next Roman candle?? She hissed at him trying to break the adrenaline rage of seeing a fallen brother in arms. She didn?t need another case of false bravado ticking up the death count. These men didn?t have the training to handle mages.

Hope leaned against the door jamb and called out. ?Brandon! Let Margery go! Think this out man! You?re an artifact dealer and assessor not a spell slinging killer. I don?t mind icing Flesh Golems, they aren?t living beings but you got to let her go and calm down man. You?ve injured and now killed people. This is looking really, really bad for you and I may have to do something permanent about it. What do you say? Work out something and call a truce??

?Truce? You want a truce? You started this officer! You started this whole mess by investigating my golems! You could?ve kept your nose out of it and things would have been fine! But no, you gave him a reason to get personally involved!? Brandon yelled. Heavy ozone filled the room as sharp white and blue light arced and cast shadows deep in the hall as lightning scored at the wall Hope and her team member hid behind.

Hope drew in a deep breath. He could cast more than one elemental type and his mental state was unhinged. Her amulet from Mach wasn?t going to hold long in a face off and mentally unhinged mages were far more lethal than sane ones. Sane ones had ego and pride to twist and use, mad ones just had their goals and ambitions to cling to. ?Come on Brandon, you know that?s not the case. My snooping was just a byproduct of you getting sloppy! You started taking Brimstone. Made your wife take notice, can you blame her? You?re going mad!?

Chunks of the wall shattered off as more lightning erupted in the room. Perhaps telling a mad mage he was mad was not wise. ?I know the truth Brandon. You?re being held sway by another man and his goals. Your sickness is his leverage in twisting your arm for his own means. You gave in to him. All of this started going wrong when you gave in and when your wife saw it all going wrong. Think about it Brandon. Do you really want Margery dead? Is this all worth killing your wife over? Is her life worth losing and yours as well for some drug lord?s profit? Any sickness can be cured in Rhy?Din with the right people. You don?t have to stoop this low to get help! See some reason Brandon!?

?I didn?t hurt her! He told me to hurt her!? A fire ball crashed into the wall and blistering heat made Hope and the SWAT member step away in safety.

Hope looked to the SWAT member and signed for him to listen and watch. She took a deep breath and walked around the corner of the door jamb and into the smoldering, smoke filled office. ?If you didn?t hurt her on purpose, then let her go Brandon. Let her go now! Place your hands on your head, lace your fingers and place your tongue between your teeth. If you really care about Margery and didn?t intend to hurt her let her go. She?s going to die and that?ll make anything that happens to you even worse.? Hope said to the mage in a calm, cold defiance of any sane logic. She didn?t flinch walking into the proverbial lion?s den facing down a man that could kill her with a single spell though she had her gun sighted on him.

?She?s already dead with the debacle that has gone on. You?ve ruined my company! You?ve ruined her name and reputation! You?ve cost me my contract to run Brimstone. Now he won?t let her live or me live. You?ve failed to save anything! Now join me and perish in the power of Brimstone!? Brandon shouted then stretched his mouth into a tight grin.

Lightning arced around his hand and he flung a neon blue bolt right at Hope. The spell fizzled a foot from her and she felt the amulet grow warm against her flesh. Brandon seemed confused at his spell failing and Hope took no chance to have a stationary target. She darted toward him, all thoughts and training from Mach yelled at her to run and get farther from the mage. She had no room to work in the office and with Margery in the way he was too shielded. Lightning erupted in front of her again and failed as she closed in and struck his forearm holding Margery?s waist captive with the butt of her gun aiming for a deep nerve cluster in the muscles. She felt the amulet growing painfully hot under her coat and shirt and shoved the sensation away. He yelped in mild pain as his arm loosened and came away from the nerve strike. Margery slumped to the ground and Hope took a further step in, over her body and threw a hard left hook burying knuckles into his hollow cheek. Brandon staggered back for a few moments; the Brimstone like any narcotic dulled the majority of pain he felt.

?Okay Brandon, it?s just you and me now, the mage and the cop. We can do this peacefully or I am reading your rights to an unconscious body!? Hope shouted with a growl.

True to the commands given to him, the SWAT member was listening and watching. Soon as he saw the hostage fall to the floor and Hope place her small frame between the hostage and drug induced mage, the man ran and grabbed Margery by the feet and pulled her out of the burning office rapidly and moved to a medical team out in the streets.

?You don?t understand! We?ll all die!? Brandon spat out blood and a tooth. ?He?ll see to it! This will end if I bring him your head! So come to hell with me officer!? Brandon grinned more and sent fire into the floor boards and then grabbed for her gun. A glow surrounded his hand as he tried to make the gun melt and spell fizzled and rebounded making him pull his hand back with a burn mark in the shape of the muzzle.

?Magic hardened for hard headed **** like you!? Hope snarled. She threw another punch, a right-cross with her gun breaking his nose and sending him to his knees. Brandon screamed from the broken nose and the grabbed a chair and slammed it into Hope knocking her into his desk, forcing her gun to fall to the floor and slide under it. He glared hard at her as she struggled to get up and scrambled, reaching out and placing her hand on her gun. Hope felt intense heat by her face. She stared up into the face of the glowing, white hot fire ball. The amulet burned on her skin and it felt like it wanted to fly apart and unravel. This was it; she was biting it hard and not coming back. Perhaps she?d find Mach finally on that road of stupidity they both shared.

Brandon held the conjured fire with a look of pure madness in his sickly green eyes. ?You have something protecting you but I can feel it?s giving out. Say goodbye officer.?

CRACK!

Brandon staggered as blood blossomed in his shoulder. He spun to face the person who shot him. Mallen filled the charred doorway of the office with his revolver leveled at the mage.

?Drop the fire ball and get on the ground now! Next one is in your head!? Mallen shouted hard, firm, every line and wrinkle etched deep by the crackling fires gobbling up wood paneling.

Hope felt time slow and watched events play out before her in such cold lethargy. She couldn?t speak fast enough warning. She watched Brandon shrug his shoulders in complete, chemical fueled abandon as he hurled the fire ball with lethal grace for Mallen. Mallen aimed, slowly pulled the trigger and his shot missed wide. The look on his face was not regret but calm and peaceful. She saw he was buying her life and time with his own.

Burning flesh and hair filled the room as Mallen was engulfed in fire. He didn?t scream for more than a second before collapsing to the floor. Hope didn?t look at him, she couldn?t look at him. The heavy pistol in her hand rose as she screamed in full agony. ?GREG!? She snapped up onto one knee and pulled the triggered and fired into Brandon?s back. ?Brandon Lillem. You have the right to remain silent . . .? He twitched once, spinning to face her, lighting arcing up to him erratically as his flickering life made his grasp on magic wild and dangerous.

?Kill you?? He snarled and sent a bolt out that singed into her shoulder making part of her coat smolder. Her amulet warped, blistering skin as its protection was spent and broken. ?Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . .? Hope fired into his belly making him stagger back and crash into the wall gasping in pain, a hand clasping to the wounds that bled freely. ?You are allowed an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one can be appointed to you free of charge by the Rhy?Din Jurisdiction of Law.?

Brandon sneered at her. ?Go to hell bitch!? He flung a very weak fire ball at her that she side stepped letting it torch the desk. Hope drew up to him and held her gun a foot away from him. It shook in her hand from anger and pain of a blackened shoulder from lightning. Brandon looked up at the gun and laughed hard. ?What? Can?t . . . pull the trigger anymore? That guy burning there makes a nice fire. . .?

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Click. Click. Click. Click.

Muzzle flashes lit up her brown eyes bringing warmth to the cold the felt. The only warmth she was feeling from witnessing her partner burning like a matchstick at the hands of a madman. ?Shut up. ? Hope said through clenched jaws.

Her ears rang from the gunshots that filled the room as she watched Brandon Lillem slump to the floor lifeless and dead by her own gun. Hope lowered the gun, white knuckle grip on it and just shook at what had happened. She turned stiffly from his body to be faced by the charred body of Mallen. Heaven had just retired one of her angels permanently and she felt very hollow. Swallowing hard she ejected the spent clip and slid in the spare she had with a tight snick of it locking home. Only hours ago they?d just been talking and sharing coffee on the verge of closing this damn case. Echoes of gun fire still rang out in the streets and in the building; the sound snapped her mind out of the shock. She felt so tired and just wanted to curl up by Mallen?s remains and give up. But there was so much still that wanted her tired attention. The fact the Flesh Golems were still operating meant someone was still controlling them. With Brandon dead and Margery out of the building that just left one person in the puzzle left. Ivan Vel Yoven and her gaze fell on the metal door at the end of the long hallway.

?Make room for me Greg.? Hope said in a terse prayer and strolled for the end of the long hallway. Her gun was up and two shots rendered the security glyph ward useless and the door slid open. ?Knock. Knock. You sparkly mother fucker.? she said under her breath as she stepped into the control center of Arcana Corporation?s Flesh Golems.

5-30-2016, 6 PM, Rhy'Din City Memorial: Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down Part 1/3:

The sun was bright during the clear, blue afternoon day, yet it still felt cold to Hope as she stood in her stiff, stuffy dress blacks with the rest of the 27th Division of the Watch. She tugged her black police cap tighter on her head as her brown eyes surveyed the other Watch members gathered in dress uniform today. Members from 3rd, 4th, and 7th Division, and the specialized SWAT Division were present today as well as many from the various Fire Brigades and Emergency Services. Every face was as tight, somber and tired as she felt hers was.

Before them all lay the cause for such a gathering and such a stifling silence. Eighteen caskets were aligned in perfect order, polished wood gleaming in the sun, their glow cold to the grieving families seated in front of all the standing service men and women. Silver framed pictures sat upon service flags for the Watch, SWAT, Fire Fighter, Emergency Service Member, the occupant of each casket in those frames, their final smiles captured forever in time. Wreaths of roses, lilies and ferns draped the foot of each casket and bellow each was a deep hole waiting to receive their charges for eternal slumber.

Someone mounted a temporary stage to address the crowd about the gathering today but Hopes mind had trailed away. All she could think about was burning meatloaf, and an anniversary meal that was never going to happen.

His home, not a fancy house in the better districts of Rhy'Din, but a decent three bedroom house. An old wood porch with a scraped up white wash that Greg always said he was going to redo once he retired. There was the two seat porch swing he enjoyed cool evenings with his wife or schooling a very perturbed rookie that was out of her depths. The windows still had the hand made doily curtains and the eggshell white door was framed in slate gray to off set the cedar shingles. There was a shadow falling over that door now, her shadow and her hand was knocking on the door now. Please don't open. Please don't ope- Creak.

"Coming. Coming. Who is it? Oh, Hope darling. You're hear a bit early. Early day at the office? Greg isn't going to be stuck in the office late is he?" Lilly Mallen, housewife, matron and motherly charm of the homestead greeted her with optimism and friendliness.

Hope felt herself swallow a lump that felt like crushed glass and razor blades. In the background she heard the T.V. on, the last bits of a football game being reported before the breaking news jingle of channel five came on. She politely offered her hand to Lilly.

"Mrs. Mallen. Please . . . step onto the porch with me and have a seat. I have . . . some news to tell you about Greg." Hope said.

Lilly looked confused as Hope lead her to the porch swing and they both sat, her shirt crinkled with the dry blood under her black Watch coat. She could still hear the T.V. going in the living room.

*What can only be described as the second most horrific disaster in the wake of the of Warehouse Explosion earlier this year that killed many, eye witnesses are reporting a full on fire fight and fatalities as Arcana Corporation in Market Place District became a war zone. Emergency crews are still working at the scene and the Watch is asking all to steer clear as they investig-*

Hope looked at Lilly with a numb, faint feeling of failure and loss. "Lilly. Greg and I responded to an emergency tonight. I . . . don't know how to tell you this Lilly . . . and the T.V. reports are already going . . . but it was a very dangerous emergency that put us both in severe danger . . ."

Lilly's face lost a bit of color as she heard Hope and her hands turned a bit cold.

*The death count is rising to 24 people with 12 critically injured. Among the dead we've just learned was the owner of the business Brandon Lillem. The Watch is refusing to answer any questions right now but we believe this operation was lead and directed by the 27th Watch Division...*

"Greg? Where is my Greg? Is he in the hospital? What room is he in? Can I visit him?" Lilly asked.

Hope couldn't meet Lilly's grey eyes. She just couldn't look into eyes that held hope that her husband was still alive and she didn't want to show her the eyes that saw him burn to death. "Mrs. Mallen . . ." Damn it, there went her cold duty rising up like an inhumane shield to wall away her humanity. " . . . your husband, Gregory Mallen, of the 27th Special Operations Division of the Watch, fell in the line of duty, serving and protecting his partner. He sacrificed his life to spare the life of another. My condolences to you, Mrs. Mallen."

"No. He's just hurt. He's just hurt Hope. He . . . can't be gone. I made his favorite dinner for our anniversary. We were going to watch Casablanca together. He can't be dead Hope!" Lilly said, tears welled up into her eyes and Hope looked up.

Hope saw another sight she never wanted to see, pain caused to Lilly, to this peaceful, loving woman and she was the very cause of it. She pulled Lilly into a numb, comfortless hug. How could she comfort a grieving widow when she herself was crying for the loss of a man she looked up to? They both cried there on the porch as the meatloaf burned in the night air and the news blared on retelling the horror scenes over and over in social media delight.

Hope came back to the present day as she felt an elbow nudge her gently. She looked over to Billy who looked apologetic with a few wet eyes he was failing to hide. He nodded to everyone around then the stage. Hope looked about and notice everyone was staring at her and that the speaker was standing to the right of the stage waiting for her to come and speak some words for the departed. She swallowed, that feel of crushed glass and razor blades was felt in her throat and she left the line of officers standing at attention.

She halted her steps to the stage and turned to face Lilly Mallen, dressed in black like so many others, wearing a mourning veil from a wide brimmed black sun hat. Hope gave her a long, silent salute of respect, tears sliding down her cheeks. Mrs. Mallen raised her hand and gave a clumsy and unfamiliar return salute to the officer. Hope lowered her arm and returned to her walk up the stage. The speaker motioned subtly to her face and Hope dismissed any concern for the show of tears. She reached the podium, looked at the microphone for a long solitary moment, then looked out at the small sea of faces then the lined up caskets. She cleared her throat, ready to speak.

5-30-2016, 8 PM, Rhy'Din City Memorial: Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down Part 3/3:

Hope watched the two men stop before her and Billy. She gave them both a salute though upon closer inspection, only one man was from the Internal Affairs Department. The other man was in the sharp dressed suit of either a private lawyer or district attorney. The IAD man gave a return salute to Hope and eyed Billie who was very alert now that his Captain was not alone at the cemetery. He didn't leave Hope's side and remained at attention.

"Evening, Captain Jubal of the 27th Special Operations Division. I am Captain Richard Holdern, Internal Affairs Department of the Watch, and this District Attorney Malcome Malcoby. We would like to talk to you in private for a few minutes." Captain Holdern said, his brown eyes stared at Billie directly.

Hope raised a blond eyebrow in a slight defiant air but she had a feeling someone from an IAD position was going to be coming as the Missing Hands Case was closed. She looked to Billie with a small, inaudible sigh. "Clerk Ferlon, I am placing you on an honorary patrol while I speak with Captain Holdern and Malcoby. Report back if you see anything suspicious or about thirty minutes time which ever you reach first."

Billie looked at her in surprise then looked at the two men with hesitation. He gave Hope a salute and walked away to start a perimeter walk of the Memorial Grounds.

Hope looked back to the men. "You have my attention and your privacy. My reports were not satisfactory for you Captain Holdern?"

Holdern took up an easy, wide stance and shoved hands into his gray suit jacket. "Oh they were very detailed Captain Jubal up to the last hour or two of incident at the Arcana Corporation during the massive altercation upon the grounds. Details such as chain of command change. Direct command of SWAT members and jurisdiction to name a few things not to mention a forty foot crater in a large room you were found in and a missing suspect report of a dead man, just to name some things."

"Ahem." Malcoby gave a small cough of impatience.

Holdern rubbed his face in slight annoyance. "That was just some of many things IAD is interested in investigating about this case which has us heading an investigation on you. DA Malcoby here was hired by Mrs. Lillem to press charges against you."

Hope crossed her arms slightly. IAD was trouble enough coming at her, now she had a public lawsuit hanging over her as well?

Malcoby smiled slightly, his gray eyes stared hard at Hope as he spoke in comfortable self assurance that his black with red pen striped suit lent to him. "On behalf of the Market Place District, I was assigned to hear and handle Mrs. Lillem's case against you, Hope Jubal. You are being charged with the murder of Brandon Lillem, wanton destruction of personal and corporate property, defamation of character, slander of her corporation and being sued for lost profits due to you tactless and brutal investigations."

Hope just stared at the DA. "Murder? Property damage? Lost profits? She's damn lucky to be alive and not dead at the hands of Brandon Lillem!"

The care takers filling in the graves shook their heads in displeasure hearing the raised voice and outburst. Captain Horden held up a hand to Hope and eyed Malcoby who was starting to work up a sneer and taunt face. Then they all heard Billie huffing and puffing as he was hurriedly escorting a woman in a gray formal business jacket and and dress. As they got closer they would see the woman was not human, but humanoid, canine in form and hailed from the Lupinossai community. The woman tipped her head in greeting to all gathered, red hair kept in tight buns.

Hope eyed Billie for an explanation. He caught his breath and motioned to the woman. "Sorry, Captain Jubal. She saw me patrolling at the entry gate and asked if the Honor Ceremony was still going on. This is Ammy Spiritor. She wanted to speak to you on behalf of a think tank project she's been considering doing later this year. She said you helped her with a rogue Hunter that broke into her alchemy shop and she's here to repay the favor."

Captain Horden looked amused but kept quiet for a moment at this arrival of a stranger. Malcoby was quite irritated and waved his hand in a dismissing gesture. "This is a private discussion. Escort this woman out of here or I'll add you to the charges for obstructing justice."

Hope just looked perplexed by this all. "Let her stay Billie. Lady Spiritor rarely makes a presence unless it is of importance." Then she looked to the men. "So what's the deal then? Closed investigation and peer review trial by IAD followed by a public trial by the DA against me?"

Billie had to cover his mouth hearing what Hope just said. Ammy seemed a bit amused about something, her golden eyes focused on the men for a moment or two. Malcoby looked steamed at being denied his request and reached into his suit jacket to remove a note pad and started to write up a few notes. Captain Horden took this as his cue to explain the mess.

"Normally, yes, Captain Jubal. That would be the usual procedure, but given the fact that the public case against you also entails key parts of the IAD investigation it complicates matters. To expedite and simplify matters, you are to be tried publicly by both IAD and the DA for your actions during the Arcana Corporation altercation." Captain Horden said.

Notes made Malcoby returned his note pad back into his suit jacket and withdrew a manila envelope. "You are hereby subpoenaed to appear in public court to face a jury of your peers from Internal Affairs as well as a selected public jury. As District Attorney of the Market Place District, I place you under arrest until your trial date is set. Take her into custody Captain Horden."

Ammy stepped forward and took the manila envelop from Malcoby's hand and replaced it with a business card instead. "Pardon me, but I'll be taking that subpoena, and you will not be arresting my client while she is in my custody."

Malcoby looked livid while Captain Horden was moving towards Hope. He was already reading her the Miranda Rights and producing handcuffs, though he paused to hear what was going on between the DA and the Lupinossai. Hope just stood there looking at everyone. Was she under arrest? Going to jail? Having a trial or somehow being rescued in some weird way that meant a lot of explaining to Keri. Malcoby looked at the business card then squinted at Ammy really closely.

"So you're the donator to all the victims as well as the one paying for all the damages done to Arcana Corporation. Sword of Damocles, eh? Sounds like a load of manure. This woman here is a criminal and should be locked up like one." Malcoby said to Ammy.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Captain Jubal is a test client for the Sword of Damocles to assess whether our principles and beliefs that a person in jeopardy can receive proper and accurate help during times of adversity are valid if given the right tools to receive such help. She will remain in my custody and will not leave Rhy'Din City. She will make any court appointed dates that you or the IAD set and the Sword of Damocles will pay for all of her legal fees, bail and we will provide her an attorney of our choosing to give her the most, unbiased representation for defense. Is this agreeable?" Ammy said with narrowed golden eyes.

Malcoby chuckled. "You've got friends in some high places Captain Jubal. Very well, Mrs. Spiritor, I will allow Captain Jubal to be remanded to the custody of the Sword of Damocles, but know this. She flees, causes more harm or does anything out of line and I pull you and your fly by night organization down into the same hell she gets. Understood?"

Ammy gave a slight nod. Malcoby put the business card into his suit jacket and looked to Captain Horden. Horden stowed his cuffs back into their holder and instead looked to Hope.

We have already sent a notice to the 27th Division. You are relieved of your duties as Captain and command is placed with Captain Keri Ravenlock until such time you are restored to your position by said trial or permanently removed by said trial. You are on unpaid administrative leave from the 27th Division. I must ask you to relinquish your sidearms, Jubal, and your badge. You are not allowed on the premises of the 27th Division property. All of your files are confiscated for full review and investigation and you are to lodge where the Sword of Damocles places you. Do you understand?" Captain Horden asked.

Hope listened to it all and it just socked her harder than the blow the vampire had given to her stomach. She opened her dress coat and unbuckled her gun belts and handed them over to Captain Horden as well as removing and handing him her badge. "It is clearly understood, Captain Horden, DA Malcoby. When is my trial date?"

Malcoby shrugged. "Things are still being assessed. Within a months time. Until then, enjoy your vacation." He chuckled and walked away from the group heading for the main entry to the Memorial Gardens.

Captain Horden accepted Hopes effects and gave her a small nod thanking her for her cooperation. He withdrew and left in the same direction as Malcoby did. Hope watched the men go then she rounded on Ammy.

"What the hell are you thinking or doing?" Hope said with anger.

Ammy looked at Hope coolly. "Saving your butt from a severe case of court hanging. You've helped me and several of my extended family over the last two years. I owe you help and after what I saw on the news I knew you were bound to land in deep trouble. Luckily for you I just got approval from some of my off realm business associates to select a few test cases for a crazy idea I have for saving people when their chips are severely down. Congratulations, you're my first case."

Hope rubbed her face and shook her head. "Well my career is in questionable hands of an alchemist. What do you even know about police procedures, law, or public hearings?"

"Me? Not a whole lot on what you said, but I am not your attorney. Oh no, you'll be getting the finest attorney I know. You will meet him soon once we get you settled into your new quarters. For now, rest assured, he has prior experience as a court liaison, diplomat, district attorney, law enforcement commissioner and I believe he is currently on his third year of his first term as governor."

Billie gave a small whistle. "Captain, I think you got a good deal out of this. May want to trust the fluffy lady."

Hope sighed. "I don't have much choice."

((This event is backdated and does not affect all current and present time cases or duties going on.))