Unlike what Holos would show, raids on drug labs were very often not explosions, blaster fire, and heroic one liners. In fact, most of the time it was over with a series of commands, lots of shouting, and rounding up a bunch of drug addled creatures and the actual criminals that were guarding the place. Sure, the odd stupid one might open fire, and god knew what a junkie would do... but generally it was over and done with. After all, while a standard thug might have a blaster to ward off another criminal, they had very little that would stand up to the Mil-Tech assault suits and full military grade assault blasters that came with the raid.
Yes, the raids were generally the easy part. Sorting through the aftermath was where things got complicated. The Holos didn't show the hours of paperwork that needed to be done after. Sorting through the junkies and the exploiters. And then after all that, trying to pin the lab on someone higher up the chain than some low level thugs that could quickly replaced. Especially given that most of the time they only knew someone directly above them, who was likely flying across the galaxy by the time the information was gained. That was the major drawback of Paradicio Security faced every day.
More commonly known as 'The Melting Pot,' Paradicio was a World Ship that had been constructed to act a neutral ground to the various powers of the galaxy, granting asylum to some while offering a place to belong to others. On the best of days, it could avoid galactic wars, allowed for a meeting of minds between ancient enemies, and even allow upstarts a seat at the table when there hadn't been one before. After all, it was hard to make decisions on sectors and other aliens when they were sitting in the room and arguing their own case against it. Sure, there were dead ends, but it was better than interstellar wars. But there was another drawback...
A world with many different species and a rapidly growing population meant that the scum of the universe also had made it's way into the station. Drugs, slavery, prostitution... go down the right back alley and all your dreams could come true... as well as any number of nightmarish situations. The general population was safe, but incidents happened. And thus Para-Sec had been founded. A multi-racial organization filled with races of all shapes and stripes, to stop crime and to allow a safe zone. At least, that was the general theory.
Commander Amber Dorn looked over the report from the raid with a frown, her assault armor clinging to her from the sweat that had formed beneath the xero suit beneath that. Overall it was uncomfortable, but it kept you alive. There were talks of Hard Light Assault Armor in the works, but that was like a few decades out. After all, armor didn't amount for anything if a skilled hacker could just flip it on and off like a light bulb. But that isn't what caused a frown to grace her pretty face. "This can't be right."
Amber was a human, one of the few that had joined Para-Sec. It wasn't that humans weren't unwelcome, it was just most tended to be wary of the various xenos that incorporated Para-Sec's hiring practices. Standing a few inches over five foot, she was towered over by her compatriot, a seven foot wall of muscle and skin that would make a stone question if being that hard and durable was a bit much. Short, black hair clung to her as sweat had matted it, save for one long braid to the side that was auburn. Her pale skin was accentuated by dark lipstick, as she chewed on a toothpick... something her boyfriend had insisted on. Emerald eyes were covered by a pair of anti glare shades that she wore, as she looked over the report. "No drugs?"
"Yes Ma'am." *The agent opposite of her towered above her, Agent Granas was of a silicon pursuasion, and had a deep, but monotone voice* "No drugs found on the premise, or in the blood screening. Didn't find False Life discs either."
"But all the workers are blitzed out of their mind. So what, they're just naturally bimbos?" *Amber asked, splitting the toothpick in her teeth in frustration, and resisting the urge to just spit it out, as she instead shoved it in one compartments on her belt*
"No idea, ma'am." *The stony alien stated, shrugging slowly*
"Maybe it's something new..." Amber mused, tapping her fingers against her suit, looking around. The building was not to far away from being condemned. It had been a quick shake and bake when refugees first had started swarming in, never meant for maybe a year or two of service... but it had stuck around for nearly a decade beyond that. The supports were fine, but the thin materials used for most of the work had either begun to peel, crack, or in a few cases brake. As for the rooms, there were plenty, and each one had a dirty bed and a blitzed out prostitute. Twenty, in fact.* "Cause there no way a rational species would stay here..." Of course, there had been the pimp, some bloated pig man in a dirty and food stained wife beater that had started out white but now had been a greasy off white to brown. He had worn engineering cargo pants common, although the only tool Amber assumed he ever touched was his own... a thought that caused her to shudder in how unkept that surely was. And black boots that had likely been the only tidy thing about him. He hadn't resisted, so she'd give him that. As for his office, while not a literal pig sty, junk food wrappers had littered the ground, and the only difference between his bed and the whores had been three stained and distinctly musky smelling matresses piled up instead of one. He had a computer, but the only things on the outdated hunk of junk had been some older ones, and a receipt log with a number but no information on customers. No links, no supply line, just blank*
"Did any of the employees say anything?" *She finally asked, not facing her subordinate, still looking around this place*
"Yeah... but it's weird.."
"What do you mean?" *Finally, she turned, crossing her arms* "Spit it out."
"Well, when we asked, they just said 'It was so good'."
"What was?"
"They didn't say. Probably whatever drug they'd have been given."
"Great..." *Amber sighed. Well, nothing for it* "Where is the pig?"
"In the lobby." *Her compatriot stated, raising a brow*
"Right, we have a safe house nearby, right? I think we need some time to make piggy squeal."
********************
*There were many safe houses in Paradicio. The primary purpose was to hold individuals of importance for a few days, or for agents to get to if something happened. At which point they could get back up, and wait it out. Each safe house was little more than a two or three room apartment, usually with a false name attached to it, with bare furnishings. This one was no different, consisting of an old second hand tv, a beaten up couch, and curtains that covered the glass looking from the third floor of the building. There was nothing but bottled water in the refrigerator, but the pantry was stocked with dehydrated food and non-perishables. Nothing particularly appetizing, but it lasted a while, and it was filling.*
*There was, of course, another purpose behind safe houses. And not a strictly legal one. A suspect had rights after all, and taking them in would result in a timer to start ticking down to actually charge them with something. Worse yet, a lawyer would have to be present to oversee the proceedings, and cause as much disruption as possible. In this case, they had this pig, this Ohgna, dead to rights on prostitution charges. But Amber was more concerned about what drugs the Pig man had used. Something new, something that didn't leave a chemical trail, and something that put it's users in a bliss state. She needed something*
*Ohgna was a bit of a ghost, and his species were a large unknown. Porcine as they were called were away from the Core, in the Outer Rings of the galaxy. They also were considerably primitive by space fairing cultures standards, and hadn't progressed much beyond their own system. As for Ohgna himself, he seemed to have arrived two years ago, and more or less vanished off the records. No jobs, no imprint, just showing up now. It wasn't as hard as it sounded to vanish, there were plenty of slums and the like. But no charges, no jobs, he seemed to have just vanished as some sort of pimp and become Amber's problem. Which she was about to make her problem*
*Amber herself had removed the assault armor, revealing the skin form fitting of the Xero suit beneath. It clung to her ample breasts, the amble muscle of her abs, and her well defined rump. There was armor along the neck and arms, which were used to connect to the assault armor, but it wouldn't stop more than a stray blaster shot, and last was her belt and boots. She would have changed, but the quicker this was done, the better. If she had gone home, HQ might have called in, and forced the suspect in. So here she was, in a xero suit, about to use less than legal methods to figure out the drug.*
*Moving across the living room, she could smell distantly that musk again. It had clung to the suspect like a second glove, and she wrinkled her nose slightly. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was distracting. And she admitted it smelled almost... manly, perhaps? Well, that didn't matter. Opening the bedroom door, it wafted out and hit her, and she once more ignored it*
*Inside was the bloated pig man, still in the stained wife beater, cargo pants, although his boots were missing. Likely a check for contraband of some sorts. There were two furnishings in the room. A second hand bed that had an old and overly flowery comforter, and a propped up pillow. And a plain looking faux wooden table with Ohgna sitting with his back against the wall. And the other, Agent Granas, still unbothered in his assault suit, sitting across reading a book on his wrist mounted computer. Given the size difference, Ohgna would have been turned to paste if he tried anything, especially with his pudgy hands handcuffed on the table.*
*That didn't stop the Porcine to glance over her, eyes roaming over her, and licking his lips. She thought 'pig,' but she supposed if the shoe fit...*
"Any luck?" *Amber asked, crossing her arms under her ample breasts, looking over the pig man, who continued to look over her like prime meat*
"He remained silent. It seems it's your turn. Try not to rough him up to much, ma'am." *Granas stated, getting up, and heading out the way she came. Making sure to close the door behind him, and leaving the pair alone. It wasn't common procedure, but limited damage. Any damage to the suspect could be said due to resisting arrest, but the less hands involved at any time, the less likely if charges were brought up that it could be given to multiple agents. Plausible Deniability*
"You heard the man..." *Amber smirked, sitting down* "You don't want me to get rough, do you? Now why don't you be a good piggy and squeal, huh? What drug did you use?"
