6/10/2006

Beach
 
Right as pavements meets sand. The Emerald Coast is one of the more touristy areas of Station City. Unfortunately, it's not exactly the safest place in the world. To the west, is the luxurious Hotel, where the windows of several rooms have been left open, so that the occupants can enjoy the prominent sea breeze. The sandy beach itself extends southwards, dotted with a few palm trees here and there, along with the occasional lawn chair and sunning umbrella.
 
The waves of the Emerald Bay gently lap against the sand, and further along the beach, there is an expansive wooden boardwalk, allowing pedestrians to travel over the water. Unfortunately, the entire Boardwalk has been closed down, flagged off with caution tape. Apparently, as the story goes, a lone Killer Whale took out the majority of the boardwalk in a blind rage, uncharacteristic of such animals.
 
[Exits   : 300 Marina <N>, and Hotel Pool <W> ]
[Players : Quinton, and Shadow ]

Quinton
 This tall, slightly scruffy, Mobian of jackrabbit descent generally has a relaxed stance, and a seemingly equally relaxed attitude most times he is seen. His fur is primarily a dark brown peppered with black. Along his back the brown thins out to a stripe of solid black, as are the tips of his ears and top of his tail. Though his tufted chest fur is white, as is the underside of his tail. A lighter brown on his face and ears.
 His long legs are the main source of his height, almost disproportionate compared to other Mobians, matched only by his long ears. Those ears being generally slicked back, but when he lets them up they are almost a third again is body length.
 Currently he is wearing blue-grey fatigue pants, a white vest with a couple pockets and a bit of insignia pinned on one side (which if one looks close enough covers a light brown stain), and a brimmed red naval hat. Well strapped sandles are on his large feet at the moment, better than boots if he has to hit the water.
 His long face will greet most people with a casual grin, helping frame his gold-brown eyes along with his chin hair which he has let grow out to a rough point a couple inches down.
At his side is a closed top pistol holster attached by a thick leather belt, at the other side is a sheathed machete.
[ Quinton saw you looking at him. ]

Geez- the dock authority can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Just because you have a few openly mounted weapons and couple others you aren't ready to have listed they want to check your papers five times. Even if it is the same guy as last time you were here. Maybe especially. Probably shouldn't have brought up his mom last time, and interpersonal details therein.
But one shouldn't get caught up in irritated musings when the day looks as good as this, forget the supplies and deals it's time to relax after all that!
A tall, somewhat lanky, hare walks down the beach with a surfboard underarm, glancing to a fro- likely in search of that excellent surf spot to spend the day. He pauses for a moment to eye the boardwalk damage, "Huh, guess someone threw a wilder party than most." Oh yeah, he's out of the loop. He doesn't know about killer whale rages or city hall brawls, he just hopped of the boat and ambled down the beach to unwind after some hassle.. litte does he know there's probably worse in his future.

At the moment, the only worse in the hare's future would probably be one of the other lone figures on the beach. Today might be a good day but it's also a working day for most Mobians in Station City. Hence, not many are out at the beach or enjoying the other sights and conveniences at their leisure.
The only figure of any note would seem to be a dark looking vulpine who is busy bouncing a volleyball around on his wrists. What is noticable is not the action however. It's the fact that he's not dressed for the beach at all, instead wearing a full compliment of clothing and boots, as if he just wondered onto the beach right off of the street without bothering to change into a swimsuit anywhere inbetween. How he can stand the heat, with all of that fur around his shoulders and neck, is a possible mystery in and of itself.

       "Nnh.."
       It is in fact a working day, leaving only the die-hard fans of recreation out on the beach to enjoy the summer sun. Unfortunately, due to the work-a-day world, sometimes work spills over onto the beach. And every so often. Every now and then... the work that spills over is fairly unpleasant.
       A light shines in the sky so the immediate south, a hissing sound from the brief glittering point. It would be pretty, if you don't consider the fact the light is trailing a lot of acrid smoke. And laboring to stay up there.
       And failing.
       The mobian, clad in blue rocket armor and holding a sealed case to his chest, sketches a lazy spiral right into the beach. The resultant impact knocks the coconuts out of their trees for a good 200 meters all around.

Quinton H. Jackrabbit eyes the light and the spiralling projectile for a moment. He mutters aloud, "Com'on.. just be fireworks or a publicity stunt.." while sidling to one side looking for cover. Finding nothing suitable he sighs a shouts, "HIT THE SAND! INCOMING!" as he does so himself clapping his hands hard over his ears at the impact, which ring and the sound regardless. "Aaarrrgnnn freakin- OW.." He lifts his head up with a frown and whince at his ears as he glances around to see what happens next.

Gantz heard the yell and actually did notice the bizarre object coming down... down... down! His immediate reaction is to look in the direction which it seemed to come, somewhere deeper in Station City, and growls under his breath as he drops his ball. No. There is just NO WAY...
Gantz actually does throw himself to the ground but only because, as he guessed when the thing does impact, that the blast might knock him over anyway. Indeed, he seems to go face first into the sand which he spits out as he jerks back in an effort to sit up. His ears... hell, his entire HEAD hurts after that kind of nasty sound at close range and he is briefly deafened. The world almost seems to fade for a minute along with his hearing as he looks around, the brightness of the sun getting in his way until he puts a hand over his eyes. Then, without even waiting for his hearing to come back he whips out one of his guns and goes running towards the enormous, loose dunes of sand that now circle the 'crater' where the object landed, hopefully ready for anything.

       One sword point lodges itself in the sand.
       Using the weapon as an anchor to pull himself up with one arm, the Knight struggles to rise, the case still clenched to his body. They've taken heavy losses.. but it was all going to be worth it.
       His rocket pack had exploded with the impact, leaving his back to be a prickly mess of twisted metal. Thankfully, his armor was proof against the explosion, but the feline knows that's not his only problem. He didn't get far with his rocket boost, so he has to keep moving. Through what seems to be sheer bloody-minded willpower, the Knight manages to drag himself to his feet and limp up the dunes and out of the crater.
       People are coming towards him?
       He can't let the public be endangered. HE pulls his visor down in an instictive attempt to look his most imposing and official.
       "Nnh--stand clear! This is a Knight affair!"
       It is very, very obvious at least one of his legs are broken and the other he's currently using to walk is a ruined mess. It is, in fact, debatable that he's even going to make it off the beach, much less get to wherever he's hobbling to with such determination.

Well, there's one guy with a gun out and running over, might as well join the band wagon.
The Captain pushes himself up out of the sand and shakes himself off. He starts to jog over, but pauses for a moment as he wisely remembers his priorities and takes a moment to set his surfboard safely out of the way before flipping open his holster. He draws and checks the heavy revolver for sand before making his way toward the impact site with long careful strides.
Quinton glances over the younger fox as he draws closer, and says, a little louder than he would if his ears weren't ringing still, "HEY! Kid, you got any idea what the devilnik is going on around here?" Whoa crap, that is one beat knight. Alright, decision time, calmly walk off the beach as directed and listen to authority? .. Yeah, right. Hopefully he can charge them for the good deed later, but he's not leaving guys that stand against the NME flapping in the breeze, hell, they were the only ones that had half a brain not to trust Julian.. though it briefly crosses his mind that this well armored and armed knight is ass beat and seems concerned. The jackrabbit's eyes peer in the direction the knight came as he speaks. "Com'on you tinplated yahoo, let's get you the hell off this beach before whatever you pissed off makes me regret it," he comments as he hunches over to support the Knight's worse side even against protest. If the Knight resist moving with help Quinton barks in his best Millitary, "MOVE SOLDIER!"
He mutters quietly, 'Why do I have a bad feeling about this?'

It's lucky for the Knight that Quinton is there. Gantz himself is actually much more concerned with what he can only guess might be coming their way soon and is grateful that someone else is taking the armored cat under their supervision. He pauses and examines his own gun for sand as it dawns on him where he landed earlier (so he's a little stressed from recovery, cut him a little slack) but discovers the gun is clean. 
It also dawns on Gantz, when he sees the hare trying to help the unfortunate knight move away, that the guy might be familiar? Vaguely? Eh, he's not sure who doesn't look familiar in this city. He's been here a lot longer than he'd like but his orders from GUN HQ insinuated that, with or without bedrest, he was going to be staying here a lot longer than he'd like. And Gantz is starting to maybe see why. There's sh*t going down, though he's not entirely sure what that sh*t entails.
Gantz doesn't offer himself as a second support, partly due to the case and partly due to the idea that someone needs to be on guard. Though he really wishes that wasn't him right now.
"Knight... whatever. Is this the same person who attacked City Hall?" he abruptly asks, indicating the direction the cat came from, as he sticks close to the pair, not wanting to get too far away from the guy who obviously needs protection.

       The cat groans a bit, laboring hard to make every step count. His ploy didn't seem to work. He can't worry about it now. He has to keep moving. His sword, at this point, amazing Knight technology that it is, is now used as little more than a glorified walking stick.
       "Rrgh. You shouldn't be near me!" he barks back to the captain and the gunman. "You'll get hurt.." He's not so egotistical as to imply that they'd get killed--if nothing, for all they've suffered throguh together he has respect for the Mobian race--but he swore a solemn oath to uphold the creed of the Knights, to protect the innocent until his death. On the upshot, Quinton's barking does seem to snap him into a bit of a livelier pace. Possibly something to do with old instincts of his instructors.
       Unfortunately, it's not going to be useful for much longer.
       He coughs roughly, a red ichor splattering across the dunes. "It was-- a black hedgehog," he confirms to Gantz, only noting in the basest, most idle of ways that it must have been Gantz who chased him off the last time. He'd've passed along Scoria's thanks, if he weren't already occupied. "Gaah!" he cries out, listing heavily on his side, the case still held in his iron grip, forcing him to use his sword hand to clench over a wound near his side. If it wasn't for Quinton, he'd probably topple over right there. "We were guarding this," he says of the case, "But that--thing attacked us and scattered our unit..." He can only imagine what happened to the Knight with the decoy case.
       Damn..
       "I'm not gonna make it," he pants. "...listen. You have to get this to the captain." He hasn't mentioned who the captain actually is, but time is of the essence. He foists the case off to the closest available person--Quinton. "It's of the utmost importance--he'll ..know what to do with it. Leave me.. we failed our mission."
       If Quinton isn't prepared to support the entirety of the cat right there plus the case, he'll probably drop to the sand right there.
       If there is a pulse, it's not going to be easily detected.

Quinton perks slightly and glances sidelong at the other currently uninjured person, "..What happened at City Hall?" He's going to have to order a newspaper before he gets off the boat somehow in the future.
Quinton says, "Hey hey! Hold in there!" but it seems to be to no avail. "Thing? What 'Thing'?" he tries to ask as the case is handed over to him. "..Must not be /this/ captain- ooOOF!" The jackrabbit grunts as the knight's weight shifts entirely onto him. "Come on! WAKE UP! ..." Failing that he lowers the knight gently and checks for a pulse. "He's still alive, for the moment." He glances over the other man. "Unless you want to stand watch over this guy while I run for help and his captain, gimmie a hand dragging him behind a dune. Hopefully if something comes from /that/ way it won't see him right away.

Gantz grimaces as he notices all this transpire. Great. So now they have a mystery and a nearly dead cat on their hands. As much as he is intrigued by this whole ordeal, he is not happy. The cat confirmed his fears and while he has no interest in running into that SOB again this soon, he would much rather take care of everything in one go rather than leave any loose ends lying around. Not to mention he was never one to run AWAY from anything. Hence his near-death situation earlier.
"No. I have transportation parked right up the hill. If anyone stays here then they're a sitting duck and the chance of discovery while alone grows stronger. Help me carry him up and we'll take him someplace a lot more secure. It's a straight shot from here." Of course, he's referring to the GUN outpost.



6/12/2006
 

Quinton looks to Gantz, "You've got a ride? That's even better, here- grab his other arm, we got to hurry." The hare holsters his weapon before bending down and getting a firm grip, hoisting most of the knights weight onto his own shoulders, so that the younger man can help but still have a hand free to open a vehicle, or, if need be, shoot. "That way right?" he says tilting his head in the direction previously indicated before starting to move out.

Gantz nods to the hare's questions as he helps shoulder the other half of the knight. Once they get there, it's clear this will be a FUN ride. The vehicle in question is a hovering motorcycle, though it does seem the seat was meant to carry quite a lot. It would be easy to fit three people on, even if one of them is unconscious.
"We can make it work, this isn't the first time I've had to carry someone who's unconscious," Gantz explains, before he even sees the look on the hare's face, "Just sort of tie him to the back of the seat and I'll lean forward more than usual."

Quinton secures knight with high-test line from a pocket and sits facing backward behind the knight with his gun out. "Let's roll!"    After a few minutes of watching behind them, he asks, "So- who or what are we running from by the way?"

Gantz revs up the engine and has to speak over it as they go, "A hedgehog... named Shadow. That's all I know but I tell you one thing... we don't want to see him just yet."

       The GUN temporary outpost is.. a coffee shop, actually. To the merit of the judgement of GUN's Special Forces (specifically Klonoa) at the very least, it is a large coffee shop in a good location nestled right next to City Hall. And now it's rather well defended, to boot. Now, given the owner, who'd been doing poorly, hasn't seen business this good in three years, he's relatively ecstatic to have all the new faces around and was glad to give them some of his extra space. Now, the shop has been fitted with a guard post at the entrance and several tables and such have been appropriated for important military business.
       "Son, I'll tell ya," the medic mentions, with the wounded knight sitting on the makeshift medical table in the back room, which used to be a very large janitor's closet, "any longer and we woulda had to put im out his misery, eh right?" He's mostly been bandaged up and is in.. relatively good condition. "Turns out, once you put all his blood back in, set all those ribs he got busted up, he might in fact live to have grankids!" The medic sniffs quietly, and spits into a nearby tin. He's good at what he does. And oh is he ever so proud. He'll tell everybody when he gets back about how he was the only one who was able to save that poor knight. Most of the knight's armor's been stripped off and sits in the corner, BTW.
       "Ey," Spitz asks to the open air, "Thot this was supposed to be a DIPLOMATIC mission--what the fuzz Gantz doin gettin everybody all banged up ANYWAY?"

Gantz is trying not to teach Spitz how to spit out his own teeth and then put them back in. His ears are straight up and his tail, though small, is sticking out in a clearly aggressive manner at such an accusation. He's thankful this guy was at least capable of fixing up his own badly torn (yet still lively) body nearly a week ago but that's the extent of it.
"What are you talking about, you old dog? *I* didn't attack him!" Gantz growls, "I was the one who got him here to you."

Quinton pretty much shifts uncomfortably for a bit once 'GUN Outpost' comes up, but he loosens somewhat once he appropriates a mocha and adds something from a flask. Still sipping at a cup, the jackrabbit eyes still keep glancing toward the door and keeps an arm on the unopened case strapped over his shoulder. "So he'll live, that's good." .o(Maybe he can tell me which captain gets this to.)  Though he has a pretty good idea the Rocket Knights are the destination in question, he'd still like to be sure, with a swift escort from the looks of the knight. "He's right, he was like that when we found him." He frowns and peers at Gantz for a moment, "Hm.. Your name.. is somehow familiar." He scritches at his chin fur for a moment while he thinks. "Good coffee by the way, at least GUN knows some luxury huh?" There is a slight cut in that last statement, but nothing too severe.

       "Bah, don't listen to whatever story 'e told you," Spitz grouses at Quinton, less than intimidated by Gantz's tone, "he prob'ly missed whoever he was aimin at--e's always aimin at somethin--bounced a shot off a trolley or somethin, hit the guy before you even got there! 'Golden Killer,' phuh. More like Golden Marauder!" With a grin, he punctuates his statement with a good hearty smacks to the Knight's chest as if it were a tabletop. Based on the immediately following groan and the 'whups, sorry mate,' one can probably surmise that Spitz actually did mean the tabletop at first.
       Well, whether ot not Spitz is discriminating against Gantz jovally, he seems to get bored of breaking Gantz's back for now. "I s'pose you wouldn't wanna tell me what's got im so busted up this time for real, eh? The commander is gonna want our report soon," he gestures at the communications array he had to make his apprentice lug all the way here.

Gantz is too busy gritting his teeth and doing his best to unclench his fists. He's not even sure WHY he cares what this idiot says. Probably the insinuation that he missed his target or that his aim was off (which it NEVER is. NEVER.) In the end, Gantz decides to get Spitz back by calling him on his teasing.
    "Why don't you tell the commander that little story about my aim being bad? See if he believes you? I mean, if it is, and I'm a liar, why should I say anything else?" Gantz asks gratingly.
    Then, with a turn of his heel, he gestures for Quinton to follow him out of the room, "Come on. You said my name was familiar? I was a bounty hunter before I joined GUN, perhaps you've heard of me?"

Quinton arcs a brows at the back and forth banter between Spitz and Gantz, "Look, save the quarrels until after the honeymoon. Geez, sound like an old married couple." Smirk. Though his brow arcs just slightly higher at the mention of 'Golden Killer'.
Following Gantz out of the room, "Hrmph. Wonder if more than your ego lives up to the rumors about you. If so, mind giving me a lift to Rocket-land, whichever captain he wanted his probably there, and I'll feel better able to relax with this in someone else's lap." He headtilts at the case. "Not that I plan on opening it, but what is this Shadow hedgehog friend of yours after?"

       "That's what we need to find out."
       Spitz's amazing lack of response aside, Gantz just ran into some dragon. Some more dragon. And a lot of dragon. Dressed in the blue shirt of GUN military officials, Suiryu stands at his full authoritative height. Now, some might remember that Suiryu wasn't actually a part of the original Special Forces envoy arriving here. Apparently, someone thought to send him by after the fact.
       "I'm Suiryu," he introduces himself roughly without bothering with a queue. "And I understand you two have a case to deliver." He directs this mostly to Quinton, whom seems to be holding said case.

Gantz cranes his neck back and halts Quinton's progress as he looks up and up at the tall dragon. Ahh... shit. He sort of heard about a dragon in the GUN but based on the loose description he'd been given of him, Gantz had hoped never to meet him. Sweating weakly at the sudden introduction, Gantz shapes up quickly but doesn't bother with a salute. At this point, all of Quinton's questions drop by the wayside, again, as he tries to determine just what the hell is going on.
     "Might I ask, who told you about this?" Gantz asks, his eyes narrowing even more than usual, "That was exceptionally fast if you came all the way from Corneria."

Quinton kicks his head forward and tips his hat to the dragon. As part of the motion, he straightens his ears into the air, bringing their heights technically closer together (even if he's almost a head shorter otherwise.) His arm held over the case remains, perhaps tightens even. Then the hare looks the dragon over carefully, having almost forgot what they looked like. 
Gesturing at Suiryuu, with a finger of the hand holding the coffee, Quinton says slowly and with great emphasis, as if imparting great and weighty words of much import, "Have you.. tried.. the coffee?" He raises a brow as if he'd asked a serious question.
Quinton waits through the inital response and blusters forward in a more normal tone, "But in all true seriousness, yes I do. And to take a cue from this one-" he headtilts at Gantz, "-I do have some curiousity as to what you know. Though, as I am a good delivery boy, I'd feel better once this gets where it's going. You offering an escort or an obstacle? And really, the coffee is quite good. Not good enough to want to hang around here all the time, but to each his own against the rising tide and all that poetic junk."

       "I was in the area, Gantz." For Suiryu, it seems the shortest, most efficient way to end Gantz's curiosity. It does, in fact, seem to be the only viable explanation as to his sudden presence. He would have made it here a few days faster than even the Special Forces detachments could move.
Suiryu acts as if he hasn't met Gantz either, from the way he mostly looks over him, but he clearly knows Gantz's name. 
       "I haven't," he answers Quinton, "but if it's as good as you say, I'll be sure to." Simple. HE doesn't express the kind of egotism that would force him to remain absolutely serious in every occaision, but the grave matter does force him to be somewhat direct. "I'm not here to escort you or stop you," Suiryu insists, in a voice that's sort of like the pounding of some deep and distant drum.
       "I'm here to take the case to the Rocket Knights captain personally."
       "That black hedgehog is heretoforth to be classified as a Rank A security threat. The commander wouldn't want to endanger any more civilians or soldiers on the way. Your orders," he explains, deliberately including Gantz, "are to surrender the case to me and let me take it to the captain. I know a secret route that'll allow me to take the case there without being seen." He'll shift, his tail twitching with the motion. "Additionally," he will admit honestly, "I have some business to discuss with him about the case."
       He fixes the two with a gaze best described as that rising tide, incarnate, waiting for compliance. If nothing else, he /looks/ like he might be able to handle the hedgehog if he did see fit to attack.

Gantz twists his mouth back and forth as he considers all that Suiryu has said. He's not one to automatically assume there's anything fishy going on. After all, this is the GUN outpost and it isn't as if he had never heard of Suiryu before in his life. But he's naturally a bit skeptical. On the plus side, if Suiryu decides to face Shadow then he won't have to. This is a big plus since Gantz isn't entirely certain he should be facing anyone right now. It isn't that he is in a terrible state, not like he was several days ago. He just wants to make sure he's in good shape, with no potential hang-ups waiting to slip him up, before he goes back into the brawl. If he doesn't, he could end up permanantly injured and useless. It's unlikely but he has seen it happen and he refuses to ruin his entire livelihood (and his sole chance for revenge) by making stupid mistakes.
      "Well," Gantz hems, "I don't want to disregard orders. But then again, the knight gave the case to him and not me."
Gantz points at Quinton, not to try and stem the blame but to explain that this is really his decision. He doesn't try to give Quinton the idea that Suiryu might be faking them out either. He simply wants to let Quinton make a decision, as he himself technically can't. He has his orders. But if Quinton thinks of something better, Gantz is open to suggestion. He would also love to know who the captain in question is and hopes Quinton will ask but can live with his own curiousity if Quinton doesn't.

Quinton loosens abit at the dragon's words. Calm, didn't fly off the handle at simple stupid comments, good signs. The hare smiles slightly and straightens up out of his relaxed stance, time to be business like. "Yes, he is correct, the Rocket Knight did entrust this case to me, and I consider it my professional duty to see to it's safe delivery, even if payment terms were unable to be worked out in advance." He shrug slightly. "As for being civilian or soldier I am closer to neither- Captain Quinton H. Jackrabbit of the Freeship ETINA out of Miasarius Base, high grade military contractor-" Slight wink. "-at your service. So if you're taking this case to Rocket Knight HQ, you are taking it with me attached."

       "Heh. Pleased to meet you," the dragon greets, evenly. He doesn't seem suprised at all at the rabbit's insistence towards seeing the case taken there personally. In fact, it doesn't seem to bother him in the least. All a part of the kinds of problems he's simply used to dealing with. "To tell the truth, I would have thought Gantz would have been the one to get ahold of the case in this instance. I suppose I was wrong. There's no other alternative here, I guess." He folds his arms. "Well, save beating you to within an inch of your life and taking the case."
       See look, he has a sense of humor too.
       "I didn't want to have to tell you this. I'll be brief. In short--" he points to the case the rabbit's holding, "--what's inside that case can't reach the Rocket Knight HQ. At least, not for the foreseeable future. The hedgehog /knows/ it's here. And I'm guessing there's a good chance he knows where it's probably going. He might be on his way there now. And he's going to keep injuring people until he knows that it's not here. If he continues to attack installations in this area, it's going to create an opening for the Empire to exploit."
       He waves a claw, "So, my current orders are to take that case and make it disappear for awhile. We'll replace it with a reasonable facsimile, which is what will reach the captain." Simple plan? Hardly.
       He seems awfully unconcerned about releasing all this information.

Gantz scratches his cheek as he listens to everything that is said. Everything up until this point is absolutely fascinating beyond words. Seriously. Including that little joke, which he doesn't laugh at but he guessed it was a joke. A really bad one. In the end, he still has questions. Lots of them. He frowns.
      "Not that I don't believe you, Suiryu," which is as polite as Gantz is going to get, "but I still have other questions. What does that hedgehog want with what's in this case? How did he know it was here? And where is the real case going? Or is that something you can't disclose?"

Quinton, after the dragon's words, is silent for a several moments, a long finger rubbing its length across the base of his chin in thought. He listens absently to Gantz as his mind whirs through his options. It would really grate him to deliver false goods, but causing havoc around town is definately bad, and Suiryu wants to keep this case he's been charged with somewhere this Shadow fellow doesn't know.. who appearantly knows a fair bit about the goings on with it, Gun, and the Rocket Knights.. wait a minute..
A loud snap sounds across the room as the jackrabbit snaps his long fingers, "That's it!"
He looks around as he recalls everyone else isn't privy to his thoughts. "Alright, this shady hedgehog knows all this stuff right? He knows the the Rocket Knights had it and were moving it, you belive he knows that /GUN/ has it and will be taking it to the Rocket Knights, right? How about this- you do your thing, bring the Rocketeers a false case to throw things off. Ok fine. As for the real case, it stays with me for now and I bring it somewhere that this Shadow /doesn't/ know, and a the very least doesn't have much collateral damage potential."
Quinton pauses for the inevitable question of where that might be and responds, "This hedgehog got a boat?" He smirks slyly and raises a knowing brow.

       Suiryu frowns. Even if only barely, it's noticeable. When a dragon frowns, people tend to notice. "We suspect he's going to use it as a weapon of some kind against Mobius." Note, he doesn't specify any exact location. Just 'Mobius.' Though the rough nature in which he's giving out this information. "As for where it's going, it'll be shipped to the secure facility we have set up at ... Metal Harbor."
       "Interesting plan." The dragon pulls what seems to be a small, thick pen out of his pocket, patting down his uniform shirt for something else as Quinton outlines his own version of the plan. He doesn't object, not clearly, anyway. Rather his response to Quinton's question is phrased as bluntly as he can put it.
       "Do you want to find out if he does?"

Gantz grimaces at the mention of boats. He does not like boats. No, no he doesn't. He also doesn't like the idea that this hedgehog, who is a pretty freaking hardcore fighter already, might want to use some unspecific weapon against the entire PLANET. He gives the case a more respectful look than he did before.
      "Wait, wait..." Gantz begins, thinking of something else entirely due to his complete lack of boating enjoyment, "This Shadow had the capacity for flight, last time I saw him. I don't know the extent of it, maybe he can't go far without burning up all the fuel for his shoes but... would he even need a boat? I certainly wouldn't use one if I could utilize something else, especially if it's more maneuvarable."

Quinton says, "Loaded question. If he had a boat and was any good with it, I'd have heard of him. If he picks up a boat, he'd still have to find me on the ocean. Big place if you don't know your way around. Though maybe Metal Harbor makes a good fallback position on this plan, still reachable by sea."
Quinton says, "Besides, in most cases, a good land fighter is rarely quite as effective in a different theater." He eyes Gantz briefly, "Fly eh? Still.. if it's only shoe sized I doubt it could be used for oceanic flights. Even then, it doesn't discount taking the item to sea, just means watch the skies more, both will be hard to find even in the open on a clear day. Like I said, big place. Unless he's cutting off the route to your Harbor, which means hide and go seek if he is either way. And he has /that/ cut off, sounds like you have a leak that doesn't involve water." He doesn't comment on the 'weapon' aspect, though is grip does twitch on the case as the outward sign of taking it in, otherwise could have said it was his favorite doughnuts.

       "Heh. As interesting as this discussion is," Suiryu admits, perhaps interrupting just a bit, "if we wanted to entrust the security of the case to someone else, we'd allow the Rocket Knights to watch it. Your boat's an interesting alternative, but I'm quite sure it will be safer at Metal Harbor. Besides. We're batter able to deal with the damage if he hits us." There it is. He pulls a small white tying mask from the back of his uniform. Putting it on quietly in what must be an impressive feat of claw dexterity, he further elucidates.
       "Anyway. I have very specific orders. While I'm willing to share with you the spirit of those orders, the letter is still something that needs to be followed without fail. Gantz will probably hate me in the morning for this, but that's not something I can control." He holds up the pen. It is not, in fact, a pen. It is a very small aerosol can. The mask's use should now become clear. It's to filter out the knockout gas.
       "Who leaves with the case, however, is."
       The resultant cloud of fumes should probably fill up most of the three's half of the coffee shop in a suprisingly short amount of time. 

     Damn. Just, DAMN. Gantz should have known something was going on when Suiryu was listening to them. He also should've been paying more attention to the item being held. But that was neither here nor there. His first reaction is to cover his muzzle with his hands, but he can guess that won't do a lot of good since he's already sucked down more than he would have liked. And it also leaves his hands useless for holding his guns, though he admittedly doesn't want to shoot another officer. He is sometimes rash but he has common sense.
     Instead, he runs like hell, before the gas takes full effect. Out the door. Into the street. Who knows where he's going?

Quinton sets down his coffee just as calmly as Suiryu reaches back. Honestly dealing with a ranking officer he was suprised he hadn't pulled a gun sooner or call the grunts. He starts moving for his gun when he sees the dragon is pulling out a mask not a weapon.. Ah crap. Hand changes course to a pocket, and pulls out a softball-sized olive drab item with a slight bit sticking up with a pin in it. As the pen is pulled, the pin is pulled.
The captain doesn't say a word at any of this, once he saw the mask he just set to taking a few breaths- and holding. Naval special ops are nothing is not good swimmers, and good swimmers have good breath control.
Dropping the grenade, the jackrabbit's long legs surge into a powerful leap looking to dive through the openings amid the starled reactions as the round object clatters into the room of people- doctor, injured knight, and others. How good is the dragon? Run out for his own skin, grab the rabbit with all around ground zero with knockout gas spreading, or thow himself on the grenade to save everyone?
Then.. the *SPLORTCH!*.. splortch? Shouldn't there be a boom?
The compressed paint bomb splatters a large about of olive drab paint around the room and it's occupants, or anyone on the grenade. Meanwhile, a hare makes with the running like hell.

       Problem is--just like tying on a mask is a signal to the observant of your intent, so is holding your breath. The dragon is still frowning. As the grenade drops at his feet, he peers downwards, as if he'd expected the response--or similar--all along. The problem with most military superiors are, they aren't.
       That said, Suiryu is not technically a military superior.
       He moves--almost as if he'd been expecting this the entire time--to snatch Quinton out of the air with one claw. It's a matter of simple logic. Quinton has already revealed he's quite hell bent on keeping that case and Suiryu was, in fact, sure he was going to run. Which is why he elected to use knockout gas in the first place. What else is he going to do? Try and hit him? That leaves the question of the grenade. In this, Quinton assumed correctly--Suiryu wasn't going to allow people other than him to get injured by a rogue explosive device. Lifting one massive hindclaw, Suiryu shifts his full weight over and >STOMPS< the grenade. This, as one might expect, causes the grenade's immediate detonation and would otherwise result in a ruined, or perhaps even missing, leg.
       Imagine his chagrin when all that happens is green paint sprays from both sides of the bomb.
       If he happens to have Quinton, he'll haul him over, despite any real protests, and clap another mask onto the jackrabbit's face. Dour, but... amused. In a fashion. 
       "Don't... test... my intelligence," he'll warn. And then release Quinton.
       With the mask, the case and a free angle of escape out.

Quinton raises a brow carefully after being masked and sat down. His side stung a bit from the grabbing, but he'd live for now. Maybe. He glances toward the obvious opening then back to the dragon questioningly. He weighs a few options. Some could harm people he really feels no need to harm, even the dragon. The other could result painfully for him if it went bad, that is a big /strong/ dragon.
Let's give a third option a shot. The Jackrabbit slowling stands and if allowed carefully makes his way around the paint. If the dragon doesn't stop him by the time the hare reaches the doorway past him, Quinton turns and says, "I won't let him get this. You can trust in that." he starts to turn to leave but stops to add, "Becareful with that paint, it's a certain oil base."  Slick enough one might consider trying to trip a dragon on, and flammible too. Sneakiness leaves multiple options open. Let's see if peaceful works out.

       Suiryu snorts derisively and just points towards the exit. Go. As far as he's concerned, there's nothing more to say. It was a simple matter. He .. might have, in fact, had broken Quinton in half were the grenade a live one. The fact that it wasn't... probably convinced him, in some way, to let him go. He'll probably have to report failure to his superiors in the mission--but then again, he has a very good story as to why. This is probably the best plan, for all involved. This way, there's exactly two people who actually know where the case really is.
       After Quinton leaves, He'll--carefully, mind, at least somewhat grateful--make his way over to the stand and set down some mobiums. Enough for coffee for everyone, including Gantz and Quinton.
       He might even make himself a cup, on the way out.
       He did say he'd try it, didn't he?