Xaviers!

Nailah's wearing her superhero outfit underneath her dope leather-jacket gliding through the night-sky alongside Drake, destination: Maldon. Up ahead in the harbor they can see the large cargo ship docked next to mostly small fishing boats.

"That's the one. Some of the crew got themselves arrested and got out, like, immediately. Something real fishy's going on there, so I figured we'd poke around a bit, see what we can turn up."

"Sounds simple enough," he responded. He didn't have a superhero outfit, so he was just dressed in jeans and his bomber jacket.

The CS Wadjet appears to be well-maintained, the forest of equipment bristling atop its buttress system speaking of cutting-edge technology. At present, the majority of its shipping containers are unloaded, though a few still remain. There are lights on in the towers of the buttress system.

"Let's see if we can find a good spot over there where the containers are. Land in the shadows and take a look around." she says, going into a slight downward-curve to approach the ship from above where people are least likely to look, aiming for one of the containers.

Drake followed her lead and glided in for the shadow of an adjacent container.

Landing quietly in a crouch on top of the container, Nailah crouch-walks towards the edge and looks around for anybody who might be wandering around before letting herself to the ground.

"Alright, let's see if we can find a container to crack open."

"Howabouuuut..." he pondered in a whisper before pointing at one, "That one?"

The container Drake gestured to has clearly seen better days, with a decent encrusting of salt and rust at points, and a colorful graffiti tag across its broad side that insinuates something scandalous about someone's mother.

"Classy." Nailah comments before trying to open it up as quietly as possible.

The latch for the door at the end of the shipping container turns fitfully before it finally releases with what must sound to Nailah and Drake like the loudest clank in the world.

Drake winced. "I really hope nobody heard that."

"Let me open it. I'm pretty strong," he said, grabbing one of the door handles and pulling.

They hear a couple distant electronic tones and blurts of static, followed by low, muffled talking. No footsteps coming towards them yet.

The hinges on the container aren't that well oiled, so Drake's efforts are rewarded by a creaking groan as he eases the door open.

"You check the container, I'll keep an eye on those voices." she whispers and clambers back up on top of the container to quietly move towards the source of the static.

Once the door was open enough, draconic eyes peered inside.

Squinting in the darkness, Drake can see several pallets of... something. It's hard to make out, but there's a glint of something like shrink-wrap or plastic bags with something in them.

Nailah spies a couple of men smoking under one of the deck lights a few rows over. One of them lifts a radio to his head, and she hears another blurt of static.

Up in the nearest tower, there's movement though it's hard to make out how much under the glare of the lights.

Drake slipped inside and pulled a small flashlight out of his jacket, clicking it on to get a better look at the pallets.

Nailah tries to get a little closer to maybe overhear the guards, hopping from one container to the next and relying on her toe-beans feline feet to not make much noise.

By the look of what Drake is seeing, the pallets are full of shrink-wrapped medical supplies. He doesn't recognize the chemical names in question, but quite a few are also marked with a stylized eye.

Meanwhile, Nailah is close enough to get a bit of the conversation.

"Look, we should probably check on it," one man is saying.

"I'm telling you, it's probably just an animal. Did you hear they saw a bloody otter at the pier?"

Drake turned human long enough to take pictures of the drug names and of the eye with his smartphone and to Google one name at random.

A fair number of the articles that come up when Drake does a search are related to Mutant Growth Hormone, or MGH.

"Well, this just got interesting," he said before re-dragoning, resisting the urge to commit arson, and slipping back out.

Satisfied they're not too suspicious Nailah makes her way back towards Drake and the open container.

"Find anything?" she whispers.

"A whole lot of Mutant Growth Hormone," he answered, "So there's definitely some shady business going on here."

"Daaang! I thought there was something iffy here, but that's a whole 'nother level." she whispers back, clearly uncertain about what to do to bring an operation of this size to justice.

"What we need is to do something to make the authorities take a closer look."

"And, like, a bigger authority than the Maldon police. I bet that's why they docked here instead of London..."

There's another electronic tone and a blurt of static, followed by muttering.

Soon, Drake and Nailah hear footsteps traveling down the rows of containers.

"Incoming." Nailah whispers. "Let's try to get a jump on them before they can call anything in."

Drake nodded and pressed himself against a container around the corner from the footsteps.

A flashlight beam is now visible panning among the rows, and finally the footsteps reach the row where Nailah and Drake are hiding. It's one of the men Nailah saw debating further down the deck. He's a large man with dark hair and a beard. Big, but not Drake big.

Nailah flaps her wings as she hops down, almost intentionally making noise as she throws a punch at the man's head.

Drake came out with a tail swipe at the man's legs, timed to trip him just after the punch.

The man does indeed look in the direction of the noise just in time for Nailah to clock him in the jaw. Between that and Drake's tail, he goes down with a yelp.

A yelp that does not go unnoticed, several cries sounding up from along the deck.

And then a searchlight flares from one of the towers.

"Oops. Grab some evidence and let's bail!"

"Are photos good enough?"

"Hrm. I'll grab some, just in case." she says, rushing for the open container.

The footsteps are getting closer, the search light questing among the rows of containers.

Inside, Nailah can also dimly see the shrink-wrapped pallets of medical supplies.

He gave the fallen guard a terrifying 'don't move' gout of flame to warm his face before following.

"Already snapped a few. Let's go," he called after her.

"No I mean actual thingies!" she shouts as she tears into the shrink-wrap with her claws to grab a box or handful of the MGH.

"Oh!" he said, rushing to help.