In the dead of night in Nar Shaddaa's Corellian sector, Space Cop and Taggert took a hovercab to the location where the latter had witnessed what might have been a murder. They were dropped off right next to the wrecked hoverlimo, which was still smoking slightly from now-dead fires.
"You sure you two wanna be dropped off here?" the male Neimoidian driver asked them.
"We're quite sure," Taggert said as he took out some credits and dropped them into the driver's outstretched palm. "Thank you."
"I don't wanna be dropped off here," Space Cop complained.
"Come on," Taggert said as he grabbed Space Cop's left forearm with one hand and opened his passenger door with the other.
Seconds later, they were both outside, and once Taggert closed the door, the hovercab took off straight into the night.
"I still think it was a bad idea to steal credits from Fentar's wallet, by the way," Taggert said to his human friend.
"I guess this means we won't get jobs with Nar Shaddaa's police," Space Cop said.
"We'd be lucky to get jobs at all on this moon," Taggert said. "Then again, I think we'll have to split when this is all over, and leave Klay here. We don't need his lazy ass fucking things up for us again." He then winced. "Oh, God, ass and fucking!" The gorilla man placed his head and his hands and began sobbing.
Space Cop slapped his palm across his friend's head. "You can be a pussy back at the apartment. Let's find this Defel murderer of ours." He then called out to the homeless people who were dispersed here and there along the street. "Hey! Anyone here see a Defel?"
Those who weren't Defels pointed to the ones who were.
"Okay, new plan," Taggert said. "We investigate the old-fashioned way."
"Eh, that sounds hard, and requires a lot of work," Space Cop said. "Can't we just go home, wait for the killer to kill again, and see if he leaves anything obvious at his next crime scene."
"Space Cop, look," Taggert said, "I've been tolerant of you getting us fired from the Space Police Department, having me raped by Fuckbot Five Thousand, and generally mistreating me all around. But if there's one thing that remains constant between us is that I'm the one who gets your stupid lazy ass to work and-"
"Alright, alright, enough already, let's just do this," Space Cop said in an irritated manner.
"Okay, good," Taggert said before looking at the wrecked limo in front of himself and Space Cop.
At the gorilla man's lead, the two of them rounded the destroyed luxury vehicle and headed to its open and bent driver's door. They stopped there and Taggert looked up.
"Alright, so the killer jumped out of here-" He pointed at the open door "-and managed to grab onto one of those broken window ledges up there."
"Do you remember which window?" Space Cop asked.
Taggert opened his mouth to answer, only to find himself unable to do so. "Actually, I don't remember which floor it was. All I know was that it was one of the upper levels."
"Does this mean we're gonna have to search each and every one of these floors in this building's upper floors?" Space Cop asked with whiny irritation this time.
Taggert grimaced before looking to the ground. "Not quite. Look." He pointed at the ground, where a drop of dried red blood had merged with the pavement. He went to crouch near it, and Space Cop followed suit.
"This looks fairly fresh," Taggert observed. "The killer must have bled somehow, probably when he cut himself grabbing onto one of those broken window ledges. He then had to have left the building, still bleeding."
"Then he probably died of blood loss," Space Cop suggested. "Let's go home now."
"I doubt he was bleeding that profusely," Taggert said. He looked off to the side to find a few more drops of blood at various intervals on the ground and pointed to them for Space Cop's benefit. "He probably had 'em wrapped up or something to staunch the blood flow. But the blood still leaked out here and there as he was leaving the crime scene."
"Why don't we just follow the trail then?" Space Cop asked.
"For once, I think that's a good idea," Taggert said as he and Space Cop stood up from their crouches, the latter wincing from having had to crouch there for so long. "By now, it'd be impossible for us to get any blood samples even if we had any proper equipment with us. So let's hope the killer bled enough to lead us right back to his home."
"I hope he didn't go far," Space Cop said. "You know, wouldn't it suck if the killer lived right with us and we'd have to walk all the way back there when we had to take a cab to get here?"
"We didn't have to take a cab, you know," Taggert said. "You're just a lazy fuck."
"Oh," Space Cop said. "So I guess we wasted all that money on the cab for nothing then, right?"
"Right," Taggert nodded.
Space Cop stood there silently for a moment.
"By the way, why would you say that the killer lived with us?" Taggert inquired.
Space Cop shrugged. "It's these ideas I get when I'm bored. I once thought of you turning into Michael Jackson from Thriller while dancing on a beach with an army of zombies at your back while Cthulhu splashed waves at you."
Now it was Taggert's turn to stand there awkwardly and silently for a moment. "Come on, let's hope your imagination about our killer is correct. And if it is, I'm going to organize that Michael Jackson-Cthulhu one. Consider this a bet."