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~ With all the records open in tabs of her terminal, and pages splayed out across her table, Detective Clip divided her focus between the case at hand and the earpiece phone call to her mother.

~ "You know why I won't, Mom. Not even for the holiday."

~ She'd managed to narrow it down to the three possible ships for this particular smuggling run, each had been to the right ports at the right times and order.

~ "Yes, Mom, it wasn't a phase. It's who I am, not something I was."

~ Of the known cargo loads and ship capacities, none of the three were excluded from taking on a bit more. All could've easily tucked the goods into their holds without going over the weight limits.

~ "Because that's a boy's name and men's formal attire; you can't make me wear those anymore."

~ All three were on dock with loading posture during a shift change; any could've slipped the goods aboard.

~ Clip sighed audibly, "Yelling isn't going to change me or my mind, Mom."

~ The Detective jackalope stared at one of the legers, and pulled up two others from the adjacent ports. She pondered a moment, before groaning audibly.

~ "Call me back if you change your mind, Okay?", tapping her phone to abruptly hang up.

~ She leaned out of her room to call down to her landlord, "Hey, Bell, can I borrow those fuel consumption tables from when you were out in The Fleet?"