JB18 | Detective Shorty

The Flyu Empire. Touts itself as the glorious colonizer striving to create a utopia for all it deems worthy. The shining gem of the universe where Flyu get it all and everyone else basks in our glory. Heh. What garbage. This damn empire has just as much rot as any other. Just as much blood on it's hands, just as many rats in the walls.

Colony 2123 was one such place the Empire liked to pretend didn't exist, lest it tarnish their perfect image. Hell, who could blame them for ignoring it? A miserable mudball with a miserable weather cycle, infested with smugglers, rebels, and your average alley scum scurrying around like roaches in a root cellar. Only the toughest were sent here to try and wrangle the place into shape. Wasn't an easy job, but it was my kind of work.

JB18 stared intently at the paperwork in front of him, studying each detail written in the reports, every pixel of the crime scene photos. Another "accidental" death, or so the local criminal element would have them believe. But JB18 knew better. He'd lived in these trenches a long time. He'd seen it all, from crimes of passion to cold blooded killings. This was no accident, and already, his mind was awhirl with questions that he'd need to ask when he got the chance to interview those involved with the incident.

A knock on the door frame of his office made him glance up. Rayne stood there, leaning on the frame as casually as ever, holding another file.

"Mornin', Shorty," she greeted him, with that damn smirk of hers she always had when she used that ridiculous nick name. "Coffee and donuts are here if you want any, unless of course, it's gonna cut into your brooding time."

Damn human dame. Always gotta have jokes, doesn't she?

"I would thank you to refer to me as 'Detective'," JB18 reminded her, unamused. "I'll be out later, I'm busy with a case now."

"Ohhh, sorry Detective. Please don't punch my ankles," Rayne teased, making JB18's eye twitch in frustration.

Most Flyu are easily between six feet and eight feet, and tower over humans. But me? I had the rotten luck of coming up short. Five ten, and it seemed the universe was intent on never letting me forget it.

"Is there a reason you're in here, Rayne, or are you just feeling particularly irritating today?" JB18 asked through gritted teeth.

Rayne pushed off the door frame and sauntered over to his desk, dropping the file she was carrying in front of him. "Here, Chief asked my to drop this off for ya. Your new partner's records."

JB18 stared disdainfully at the file before meeting her eyes again. "I specifically said I didn't want another human partner."

Rayne shrugged. "Well, sorry, but you're gettin' one. I don't make the rules."

She may be mouthy, but Rayne was always one of the best when it came to the FH Units. Sharp as a tack and tough as nails, even for a human. Now bein' forced into early retirement by the powers that be thanks to one lousy sting gone bad. Damn shame, too. She still had a lot left in her. She ought to still be out there chasin' down smugglers and dealers, not pushing paperwork at a desk until her timer runs out. Gods only know where the higher ups will decide to send her off to.

JB18 set his paperwork down and stood up, wordlessly moving out from behind his desk, brushing past Rayne, and emerging into the main office of the precinct towards the Chief's office. He'd made it crystal clear after Rayne's unfortunate meeting with the wrong end of a junkie's knife that he would work alone from here on. No more partners. None of them would be able to measure up. But apparently Chief MP65 had other ideas.

"Chief, what the hell is this?" JB18 demanded as he barged in unapologetically.

MP65 jumped in his seat at the sudden intrusion, fumbling his communicator as he did so. "Damn it, Detective, how many times have I told you to knock first?!"

JB18 ignored him completely and slammed his palm on his desk. "I was very clear about not wanting another partner. Why the hell are you sending me one?"

The Chief regarded him the same way a disgruntled parent would regard an irate child. "Look son, I know you're not keen on it, but did you look at the records I sent over?"

"No," JB18 snapped. "I have no intentions of replacing Rayne, especially when she hasn't even been discharged yet!"

"Whoa, whoa, kid, calm down. No one's tryin' to replace anyone. You and Rayne made a hell of a team, I'll give ya that. The pair of ya was unstoppable. But the fact is, this colony is a hole. We're stretched thin as it is and I need all of my officers at their best."

"You think I can't work efficiently on my own?" JB18 growled.

"That ain't what I said, Shorty. We all know you're capable, despite your... eh... vertical impairments. But give this newbie a chance. They might surprise you." MP65 leaned back in his chair, meeting JB18's stubborn glare unwaveringly. "They'll be arriving here soon, so I suggest you familiarize yourself with their background. And hey, try not to bittheir head off on the first day."

JB18 slowly straightened up, his eyes still glued to the Chief's, but he said nothing. Finally, he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and stormed out of the office.

New human partner, huh? Fine. I'll play ball. But I sure and hell don't have to like it.