[center][img=http://baku-panda.org/images/UDC_Kairo.png][/center] [b]| P L A N E T • G R A X O S • I V |[/b] The two Lanterns stood within the Guardian ship Sentinel, standing on opposite sides of the central, round work table over which a holographic detailing of the crime scene was depicted in horrifying detail. The young monk was still visibly unsettled by the experience of having witnessed such a travesty, while the grizzled H'lven merely chewed on one of his odorous cigars in apathetic disregard for the emotional fetters which lay like landmines before them on their mission. Inbetween the youthful inexperience and the jaded outlook of the veteran, the ship's artificial intelligence processed the raw data from Ch'p's ring with perfect, stoic detachment. Aya had no feelings on the matter, either for or against. Information was merely a collection of numbers, calculations, statistical probabilities, and logical hypothesis. [i]"There were three Bolovaxians,"[/i] the computer's detached voice supplied, as three indistinct shapes appeared in the holographic recreation, drawing Kai-ro's attention for the familiarity of the form. "Bolovaxians?" the Chinese monk echoed, obviously not wanting to believe his ears. "But... they don't leave their homeworld," the boy stated, somewhat haltingly for the implication that left regarding the one Bolovaxian which both of them knew. And knew well. Kilowog lived in exile for the honor of having been chosen by the same ring which had chosen them. "Not if they're known criminals," Ch'p noted dryly, barely sparing his trainee a glance as he spoke. "Bolovaxians like to take a shit in the galactic backyard. Repeat offender? Just toss him off-world. Let the fracking universe deal with the problem." [i]"Blue Lantern's assessment of the Bolovaxian criminal justice system is [b]crude[/b], but correct,"[/i] Aya noted, the synthetic, disembodied voice echoing around the interior of the ship. [i]"Homeless, unaware of the galaxy at large, and seeking means by which to satisfy the basic needs of organic lifeforms, exiled Bolovaxians become easy targets for Consortium recruiters who desire them for their imposing physical characteristics."[/i] "What about the Tamaranean?" Ch'p inquired sharply, staring hard down into the holographic image. [i]"It is feasible that the hair could have come from a legitimate visitor to the home, and may not be connected to the crime."[/i] "We're a long way from Tamaran," the H'lven retorted with a snort. "Inquire with the dock masters. Ask whether any ships passing through have carried three Bolovaxians and a Tamaranean." [i]"Processing,"[/i] the computer responded obediently. "What's a Tamaranean?" the young monk inquired finally, looking over the crime scene projection at the floating rodent. "I've never heard of that world." "Trouble," Ch'p supplied in answer, the cryptic response eliciting a non-verbal expression on the human's face which clearly illustrated he had expected something more. "Warrior society fueled on emotion. They get stronger the more pissed off they become." [i]"Blue Lantern, a vessel arrived two days ago from the Antedaen System. Passenger manifest included three Bolovaxians and a Tamaraen."[/i] "Where's that ship now?" the H'lven demanded. [i]"The ship no longer appears on any manifests; however, it's departure was not logged by any star port authority."[/i] The chipmunk-like Blue Lantern swore under his breath. "Aya, where [i]was[/i] the ship last recorded?" Kai-ro asked. [i]"The ship landed at docking port ninety-four."[/i] "Please send planetary coordinates to my ring for docking port ninety-four," the young monk requested. "Someone could just have deleted the departure data from the records," Ch'p commented dryly. "Correct, in which case the local star port may still have physical copies of records," the young monk countered politely. "Even if not, someone may recall witnessing the ship depart. In either case, a likely avenue for investigation." The H'lven snorted, spitting tobacco into a trash receptacle. "Frackin'-A. You're starting to sound like a frellin' cop." Dropping what remained of his gnawed cigar into the bin, the Blue Lantern gestured for his Green trainee to move out. "Aya, see if you can do a trace-back on the records. See if anything was deleted or modified." [i]"Acknowledged. Good luck, Lanterns."[/i]