Foul Motives

United Nations, Falledge, Border Customs

A large crowd of rowdy refugees were trying to force their way through the gates once it was opened. The soldiers and Immigration officers had to impose strict instructions to the jousting crowd before they calmed down and entered the gate without pushing. The large rolling gate was only opened till enough space for a single person to cross while on both sides of the gate was the border fence made out of thick reinforced concrete bars that were twice the height of an average person and spaced too tightly for even a goblin kid to squeeze through.

The refugees channelled by waist high barriers were directed to several tents where they waited for their turn to be 'processed'. An Immigration staff sat inside each tent behind a table, where they interviewed the refugees and had them fill out a form of their particulars before taking a portrait picture of them and printing out a temporary identity card.

Those that failed the interview, which considered of psychological questions and truth stone testing were sent back out of the border and rejected from entry. Those that past were given temporary quarters, clean clothes, basic education and new culture integration courses, before getting shipped off to a developing town or village.

Bartley in his black tactical police uniform and wearing sun shades watched the shuffling line of down trodding looking refugees from behind the barrier. His hand rested over his submachine gun slung across his chest that looked like a toy in his ham sized fist, while his partner, Grey, the wind wolf sat on his haunches next to him.

The wind wolf's presence both frightened and awe the refugees as they crossed the gate. The children were especially enthralled and thrilled by the majestic look of the wind wolf when they saw him, while the belief that the United Nations had powers of the demons was further reinforced in the adults' superstitious minds.

Grey stared solemnly and occasionally sniffed the air around the line of queuing people cowed by his imposing aura. Suddenly, Grey gave a low growl as he sniffed something in the air. Alerted, Bartley gave Grey a pat on his side and followed Grey as the wind wolf sniffed up and down the line of people who tried to back as far away from those fangs of his as they could.

Grey paused before a frightened man, hunched over with his hands hugging his belly as if in pain. The pale and sweating elf tried to squeeze himself as small as possible away from the wind wolf who growled menacingly at him. Bartley gestured to the rest of the SDU team and Immigration officers as they surrounded the suspect.

"Hands up!" Bartley yelled loudly in the common tongue, pointing with one hand at the suspect while his weapon was up and ready. The rest of the police officers spread out and covered the suspect while the refugees scrambled as far away from the suspect. "Show me your hands!"

The suspect seemed to spam and twitch as he crouched next to the concrete barrier. Foam dripped off the corner of his mouth as veins as thick as a finger pulsed hard against his skin. The suspect suddenly threw his head up and screamed while still in a crouch position.

Bartley felt a chill down his spine as the bloodcurdling scream came from the weak looking suspect and he saw that man's eyes were bloodshot and veins could be seen appearing all over his body. The suspect's eyes were unfocused and drool mixed with foam dripped off the corner of his open mouth as the suspect stood up.

He suddenly laughed madly and started dancing on the spot with jerky movements. The suspect ignored all commands from the police and even Grey the wind wolf who brandished his fangs in a threatening way.

"What the fark is he doing?" One of the police officers asked as he nervously pointed his gun at the jerky ballroom dance moves of the laughing man who seemed to be dancing to some tune only he could hear. "Has he gone mad?"

"Go take him down!" A senior ranked police officer yelled and the police advanced, hopping over the yellow and black striped concrete barriers. They drew out batons and reached out to apprehend the suspect when the suspect suddenly leapt at the nearest police officer baring his teeth.

The surprised police officer raised his arm up and the suspect sank his teeth onto the arm, drawing blood. The full weight and the surprise leapt sent both the suspect and the police officer down in a heap while the other officers quickly rendered aid. They hammered the suspect with their batons and tried to pull him off from their colleague.

"Get him off! Get him off!" The panicked police officer yelled as the suspect was finally pulled away with the help of Bartley and four others. The suspect laughed like a madman with blood and foam dripping off his mouth. He glanced around and giggled, "Y- you... all look funny! Hahahah-"

With a last burst of laughter, the suspect suddenly stiffed up and his head dropped to the side. Bartley quickly checked the suspect's pulse and breathe before he shook his head at the rest. "He's gone..."

"What the fark was that?" The police were confused and angry at the sudden event. The senior officer gestured to the wounded police officer. "You better go get that checked out!"

The body of the suspect was removed from the scene and the refugees became more subdued as they watched nervously at the police and soldiers around them, wondering if they too will get magicked to death.

Bartley shook his head as he patted Grey's fur. "Another died of an overdose... Who the hell is sending in these mules?"

The forensics team has found several dead refugees overdosed on the drug known as Happy. They had swallowed small pouches made of intestines of some creature that was filled with the drug substance.

Sometimes the bags leaked out, causing the mules transporting the drugs to get high or even causing death from an overdose when the bag burst. So far, they had not yet found out the identity of who was sending in the mules. The crack houses that the Police had busted turned out to be only places of storage and redistribution.

They diluted the brought in drugs with other herbs and ingredients before repacking them to be sold on the streets. The only lead was that most of the elves running the place were once in the First Imperial Army. All they gave up was that they were contacted by a person to set up and place to store and sell the drugs and they can have half of the profits.

Police have noted a steady climb of arrests and reports from hospitals of Happy users which alarmed the central government. New teaching materials were being pushed out to schools to educate the children on the harmful effects of the drugs and also an educational campaign for adults on TV.

Bartley sighed as he watched the shuffling line of refugees, knowing that these people were trying to look for a better life here, but someone outside was making use of them to wreak havoc inside the UN. He might no longer be a Marine, but now he was a police officer and he won't fail to protect the UN.

-----

Seas of Clouds, The Innocene, Prisoner Cells

"Hmph!" A half naked elf swung his cloth wrapped fist hard against the figure eagle spread across the wall. The elf gave another two quick jabs into the side of grunting figure before a voice stopped him. "Hold..."

The elf paused and stepped back respectfully as the masked Inquisitor entered the small dark cell, that smell of unwashed bodies, void bowels, and blood. "Has he given in?"

"The Judgement sees you!" The interrogator greeted the Inquisitor and shook his head as he dripped his fists in cold water. "No, my Lord. He is very tough... But he will break sooner or later, as everyone does before the Judgement!"

Inquisitor Mathias stood before the bloodied and bruised prisoner. The interrogator carried the glow lamp forward and lit up the outlaw dangling from the chains against the wall. Fleet Master Dijon's once handsome roguish face was swollen and covered in blood and bruises.

His naked body covered in blue black marks trembled once in a while in the cold and lesions wept blood and pus. He dangled weakly on the chains that held his arms and legs, his body weight adding to the pain of his arms but he was too weak to move.

"Wake him up," Inquisitor Mathias ordered and the interrogator picked up the bucket of water and splash the cold water, shocking Dijon awake. The interrogator gripped the dazed Dijon's jaw and jerked his head up to face the Inquisitor's questioning.

"Who are you?" Mathias asked in the halting ancient language he picked up from the pregnant woman. "Which kingdom do you hail from?"

Dijon stared at the white mask in a daze and blinked slowly. He whispered softly, so softly that the interrogator had to lean close to hear his words. When the interrogator was close enough, Dijon suddenly shot forward as far as he could with the last of his strength and bit down hard with his teeth, latching onto the shocked interrogator's ear and tearing a small chunk of flesh off.

The interrogator screamed with rage and pain as he jerked back, his hand holding on to his ripped ear. Dijon gave a blood soaked grin and spat the grisly flesh away and laughed hoarsely.

"LAWLESS BASTARD!" The interrogator slammed his fist into the face of Dijon, rocking him back on his chains. Blood flowed out, joining the dried streams of blood and Dijon's eyes rolled back as the interrogator vented his anger on him.

"Enough!" Inquisitor Mathias stopped the interrogator's actions. "Do not kill him yet... Let him recover... You have all the time in the world to break him later..."

"Yes! Lord Inquisitor!" The interrogator huffed and glared angrily at the slumped prisoner. He clenched his bleeding ear with one hand. "The Judgement sees all evil!"

"Go and get that treated," Inquisitor Mathias said and he exited the cell. He walked down the roll of cages and paused before one and looked inside. A figure was huddled into a tight ball at one corner of the cell tried to squeeze her body smaller.

"Did she reveal anything?" Inquisitor Mathias asked the wounded interrogator who gave a grim shake of his head.

"No, like that lawless bastard," The interrogator sighed. "She refuses to say anything... Even after we use the judgement on her..."

Inquisitor Mathias peeked through the bars of the cage and gave a shrug, "Well... she is just a demi being... a third rate creature... Do... what you wish of her. But it will be nice if she could reveal something of use to us..."

"Yes, my Lord!" The interrogator saluted the Inquisitor who left the prison cells with his guards before he cast a simple healing spell on his wounded ear.

He eyed the hopeful expressions of the prison guards and gave a sly leer to them. "Well, boys... the Lord Inquisitor has granted us a great permission!"

The men laughed happily as they turned their lecherous gaze at the huddled figure inside the cell. "It's been over three months since we have any women!"

"Take turns!" The interrogator growled at the excited men. "I am first!"

His subordinates grinned and unlocked the cell and the interrogator entered the cell and the beast girl inside gave a warning hiss. "You shall feel proud to be able to serve us on the Judgement service!"

Takao screamed desperately as she fought tooth and nail at the hands that grabbed and forced her face down to the dirty straw covered floor. "Noooooo!"