The pack had been together for only a few days, their mix of tribes and lack of any formal introduction beyond the ceremony indicating a pressing need for haste.  They even had a representative from one of the other changing breeds, an, in the words of Sept Leader Suffers for Gaia, 'honoured guest who must be treated with respect and as an equal.'  It was a strange situation, but one that lent itself well to the Children of Gaia.  They wanted unity and for all of Gaia's children to work together, unplanned as it may have been, they had their chance.<br/><br/>The group was put through their Rite of the Totem together, under the guidance of Spirit Eye.  It was a quick journey into the Umbra, the group rapidly tracking down and gaining the blessing of their totem.  They were then given a day to rest and recover.  As midnight approached, they were sent out to meet a Glass Walkers kinfolk to investigate a multiple homicide committed by a kinfolk.<br/><br/><br/>Jill’s Diner was open twenty-four hours a day near a cluster of hotels primarily used by truckers.  The food was filling if bland, the interior worn but clean.  A stout woman, more well-muscled and big-boned than actually fat, hustled about in a dress that seemed to be a callback to the sixties.  It was just passing midnight, and the only people still in the diner were a group of local teenagers who had clearly had a bit too much to drink, a lone trucker nursing a cup of coffee and a warm meal, and a single police officer sitting at the counter.<br/><br/>Officer Garza was a Glass Walkers kinfolk, a man who always seemed to know what was going on in the city, even if he couldn’t directly intervene most of the time.  He had a cup of coffee, and was idly staring at the blinking light on the nearby coffee machine as he waited for the pack to show up.<br/><strong><br/>“I don’t know what happened to Greg.”</strong>Officer Garza said as the pack arrived, without so much as shifting his gaze.<strong>“He was always a bit of a wild kid, partying, graffiti, skating, you know the type.  But he wasn’t bad.  He cared for his family, and always had information on what was going on.”  </strong>He took a long sip of his coffee.<br/><br/><strong>“He was out with friends at Paradise, that’s the new casino down at the end of the strip.  Fucked up place that, not sure why someone thought that was a good theme.  Anyway, he was down there with a few friends, snuck in.  Was drinking I think, something.  Back room stuff.  Then, around dawn, he walked out, grabbed a taxi, and drove to a house.  He knocked on the door, then put three rounds in the guy who answered.  He walked inside, shot a second guy twice, and a woman once.  The taxi left, he hopped in a car and drove to a second house.  The same deal, knocked on the door, shot the two guys living inside.  When the police arrived, he was just standing and staring at the wall.  Fuck, I heard some of the guys say he was drooling.  They took him down no problem, bit rough, but to be expected.  He’s comatose and under guard at the hospital.  His gun was unregistered.  The people he killed all had ties to a new company in town, Dagon Pharmaceuticals.” </strong><br/><br/>Officer Garza took another long sip.<strong>“That’s all I know.”</strong>He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper.  On it was written several addresses and names.<strong>“The names of the victims, the addresses of their houses.”</strong>Boris Dragic, Sabbas Dragic, and Zoie Dragic were at one address.  Abel Jorgensen and Noel Strickland were at the other.