Some words from u/eruwenn and I. Enjoy?
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  Chae’Sol stood at the centre of a large command deck, meticulously peeling the protective film from his new captain’s chair. The sensation of the slow but steady yielding of the film, the sweeping line following the contours of the seat in flowing curves; it was incredibly satisfying. Finally, with one last gentle pull, the last of his chair was uncovered and he stood back to admire his throne. Aside from the freshness of the seating itself, there were shiny new holo displays, touch sensors, and comms relays that were within easy reach of his seated fingertips. This ship would be the jewel in any fleet, a prototype Dreadnought made by the infamous Bardul of Shi’an. The Gowe Military faction had run into financial problems, and it had been left unpaid and unclaimed. What sorcery Kadir had used to find it, and purchase it, he did not know.
His comms unit beeped and Danyd’s voice came through. “Chae’S-” -He grumbled incoherently- “Captain, we’re ready to get underway.”
The Niham turned and sat back on his pristine chair, swinging his long legs over the armrest. “That was quick, Chief Engineer Ef’Yto”
Danyd grunted at the use of his title. “Aye, these Awakened are efficient bastards.” The Satryn looked around at the enormous engineering bay. The entirety of the Porkchop Express could comfortably sit inside, and two of them could likely squeeze in. “Plus, this thing has never been used; feels weird not having anything to work on. It’s state of the art, and I’m having to read the manuals on half the new systems.”
Chae’Sol laughed, looking around at the Awakened as they were preparing their workstations. “Yeah, this command deck is a little intimidating. Even the Niham Armada didn’t have ships like this. There are fifteen weapons stations here, what in Tulseria’s name were the Gowe planning to do with this thing?”
“No idea.” The chief engineer walked to the large seat in front of his new work terminal, and hopped up onto it. The protective covering squeaked. “This thing has more firepower than half their fleet, it must have been something big. We’re lucky Kadir found out about the graveyard of unclaimed ships from one of his contacts.”
The newly-minted captain swung his legs down and sat up, straightening his black uniform and white collar. “That’s another thing: how does he have so many contacts? I was in the Tulseria-damned military, and I had no idea they would sell us fighters and weapons.”
“I know the feeling.” Danyd watched a junior engineer – Lily, an Awakened who wore a headband in her silver hair that sported long Kittran ears on it – begin running diagnostics on the Hoban Field Generator. “I'm aware he got the automated weapons for the system port from my people, somehow. As for how he accomplishes all he does, I think his time working with that fancy Anatidae councillor opened more than a couple of doors for him.”
Chae’Sol stood, running his fingers through his perfect hair. “Doors, windows, rear entrances and damned secret portals, all leading to a dark realm of shady deals and supplies. We have an Imperium Capital Ship for Tulseria’s sake! Nobody knows where he got it, or where he’s now hidden it.” He looked at his holo display, noting the specks springing blinking into existence as the other ships of Federation origin came to life. “Let’s just be glad he’s on our side.”
The chief engineer tugged at the green collar to his uniform. “Our side used to be a damn sight smaller.” Lily had finished her diagnostic tests and sent the results to his console. Her report included an adjustment that would create a potential three percent increase in crystal efficiency, and a small drawing of a smiling leokit with a crim-bar. He groaned, then reported back with, “We’re ready to go when you are.”
The Niham strode confidently across the command deck, stopping to stand in front of the huge vid screen at the front of the room. All around him were his crew, made up mostly from the Ashi, Awakened, and Kasurians. “Let’s get this show started.”
 
 
Jaym sat with a bowl of Tony the leokas cereal in front of her. It wasn't just a catchy advertising slogan - it really was great. She and Elizabeth had worked together so much in the engineering section of the Porkchop Express that they had become close, often spending their free time together. Indeed, Elizabeth currently sat opposite her, carefully rebuilding a power coupling and occasionally tapping at her datapad. Shortly after the results of her most recent tap played out, Elizabeth paused her work on the power coupling. Without speaking, she held up her datapad so that Jaym could see.
On the screen was Tony and his mate Jolie, and Skeena’s voice could be heard excitedly talking about collecting urine samples from the female. Jaym screwed up her face at first until Skeena announced the pregnancy test was positive. Tony was going to be a father! She couldn't contain her joy and screamed loudly, grabbing the screen and running all the way to the bridge to show the others.
Ranjaz was stretched out across the captain’s chair as Jaym burst in, and didn’t open his eyes until she began shaking his leg. Even then he didn’t pay much attention. “I told you not to let Elizabeth play with any more systems till after the mission.”
She blushed slightly, as their last improvement had inverted their water treatment system and blown six power couplings. "It's not that!" she said, holding up the datapad and starting the video. "Look!"
At the first syllable of Skeena's voice, Ranjaz sat bolt upright. The video held his full attention, and when Tony's impending fatherhood was announced the Kittran's whoops of delight could be heard all through the Porkchop Express. He reached underneath his seat and retrieved a small, fluffy bed, then picked up Aiov. Ranjaz led his unusual dance partner in a quick spin of joy before replaying the GalacTube video for her. “You’re going to be an Aunty!”
Eruwenn leaned back in the large seat that had once been Embar’s. “I didn’t think they were related?”
The Kittran nodded. “Aiov is Tony’s sister. Aaron adopted them both, and that’s how human families work. They just keep adding members, like a Dular adding shells to its burrow. Family is family.”
Cygna pressed a few buttons on her Navigator terminal, moving the video to the main screen as well as starting it over. “I still can’t believe you keep one of these under your seat. I mean, it’s a leokas!”
Ranjaz held Aiov up and they briefly rubbed noses. “Just a little one!”
The Anatidae laughed. “I can see living with the human has had quite a profound effect on you.”
With one of his trademark grins he held Aiov out towards Eruwenn. “Wanna nose rub?”
"Ah," the councillor said, shrinking back from the offer, "despite her size she is still a predator, and I am not quite ready for such a close encounter.”
From the pilot seat Ripley stood, taking Aiov from Ranjaz. “She is not a toy.” She briefly snuggled the tiny leokit to her chest, then passed her to Jaym. “Take her for food and exercise; she must grow up strong.”
Jaym also cuddled the wriggling Aiov close, and not just because the little leokit was adorable. Aiov had tripled in size, and was becoming a bit of a handful. “Thor was preparing her food; I’ll take her down to him.”
Once the junior engineer had left, and Ripley returned to the pilot seat, Ranjaz began tapping on the console in front of him. “Looks like we’ll be free to take the shuttle down to the surface with the next group.”
Cygna drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. “I didn’t realise it would be so busy.”
Ranjaz shrugged. “There was a quake on the fourth planet, so mining colonies are shut down while the nerds poke around. Along with that, we got three big freighters waiting for resupply. That’s a lot of bored folks looking to kill time.” Ripley grunted, prompting a chuckle from the Kittran. “You don’t approve of their choice of leisure activity?”
After their few cycles together Eruwenn was already learning a lot about her shipmates. Ripley, for instance, wasn’t one for talking. She decided to interject before the Captain irritated her too much, as they would need her focus soon enough. “Gambling and pleasure palaces are not to everyone's taste, of course, but these sorts of things are covered under local governance.”
Without skipping a beat Ranjaz replied, “I know that’s the official line, but you sure as shit have tax codes for all of it. If you want to look down on folks, don’t pretend you aren’t profiting from it.”
Cygna, ever defensive of her mentor, jumped in. “That’s a bold statement for someone who never paid a credit in tax until it was automatically deducted from his Galactic Federation pay.”
Ranjaz laughed, then continued, keeping his voice care-free. “Taxed on what? I never owned anything.”
Eruwenn could see the trap her junior was walking into but decided to let this be a learning experience. The Kittran was wily, and the Anatidae found him entertaining. Cygna, as she had predicted, scoffed at his claims. “I’ve read your file. When you were arrested you had a ship, five shuttles and thousands in valuable goods confiscated.”
“Exactly!” His eyes lit up as he cornered her. “It was confiscated because it was stolen, so I didn’t own it. Imagine a world where you can keep stolen goods if you pay tax on them. Even I think that’s crazy.”
The Fae’Dan paused, and the anger evaporated from her voice as she realized what he had said, replaced by a slightly impressed tone of surprise. “Well, maybe, but… Really? You stole all of it?”
Ranjaz shrugged. “Or won it. I’m pretty good at Dalcho.”
Cygna perked up. “I play Dalcho myself, we shou-”
“No,” Eruwenn interrupted. Some lessons were too expensive. “Do not play Dalcho with someone who can get free priority entry permits to a casino.”
The former operative shook her head. “I’m a great player, you’ve seen me in the council chambers. I took that Ley’Rulian trader for five hundred credits.”
The Anatidae smiled kindly. “And he had five shuttles when he was arrested.”
Cygna slowly turned from Eruwenn to Ranjaz, noticing his grin and the sparkle in his eye. It was most definitely the smile of a predator. He gave a little chuckle. “Don’t worry, it’s been a long time since I played. No gambling on Galactic Federation ships, you know.” He laughed again. “Oh wait, you read my file.”
The Fae’Dan nodded. “Perhaps we should focus on the mission.” She gave a slight bow to Eruwenn before returning her attention to her console.
Ranjaz looked at Eruwenn and stuck out his tongue. “Don’t ruin my fun!”
The Ambassador smiled. “I don’t play Dalcho, but there is a human game called chess I quite enjoy. Perhaps we could play sometime?”
The Kittran gave a nod. Keeping his voice neutral, he replied. “I don’t know that one, but there’s another human game we could try. Poker?”
"We have permission to dock at the holding ring and send down a shuttle," Ripley abruptly called out. "Let’s get this whatever it is and make the rendez-vous.”
Both of Ranjaz’s fangs showed as he grinned. “If we’re going to pull a job on Chisola Prime, first you’re going to need to look the part!”
 
 
Aaron walked down the corridor of the Hive ship, the strange spiderlike creature trailing behind him as he followed one of the corpse vines as it receded deeper into the ship. He turned and watched the creature, which shrank back from him and crouched low to the ground. “I’m sorry I kicked you. You simply startled me; you don’t have to hide.”
The lighting never changed in the endless corridors of the ship, and only the most uninteresting of doors deigned open for him. At this point, he had lost track of time completely. Through perseverance he’d made several important discoveries. The bulbous shapes in the flower vase room were seats; he was fairly certain of that after finding another room with bodies sitting in them. The vines that came for them were the ones he was now following, and by now he must have seen hundreds of dead Hive.
The second discovery was that the Hive came in a variety of shapes and sizes. There were two main ones, as far as he could tell, and the first were the four legged kind that had so kindly thrown him in the rejuvenating jelly bean. The second was bipedal, and looked a hell of a lot meaner. While the ones he deemed workers looked somewhat like ants to him, in shades of reds and browns, the second type looked much more commanding. Their carapace had thicker layers of armour in green, gold and red, and was spiked at the shoulders and joints. Even their legs had spines and to top the look off their heads were much more angular. Whether they were soldiers, commanders, or something else, he didn’t know. Through observation of the corpses he had discovered the most confusing feature yet: a strange section in the centre of their abdomen that was filled with what seemed to be a grey fluid.
Ahead of him, not skittering away like the rest, was an aphid that no longer emitted a pale green glow. Something whooshed overhead towards the slow and sluggish aphid, and Aaron instinctively threw himself to the ground before he realized what it was. "That's how you get kicked!” He stood up, brushing himself off. “Fuck, that scares the ever-loving shit out of me every fucking time.”
The huge creature looked up at him and whined as it munched on the sick aphid. He was probably imagining the apology in its eyes, but Aaron still shook his head. “I know, I know. It’s your job. They clean the floors, you keep their population healthy. Just stop leaping over me like that, fuck. I’m going to have a heart attack.” It whined and backed away from his angry words, and he tried to keep his voice to calmer tones. “Don’t be like that. I’ve told you enough times.”
When he looked down the corridor again, the retreating corpse vines had disappeared around a corner. Aaron began to jog after them, and after he'd put some distance in he heard the pattering footsteps of his terrifying shadow. He tried to pay it no mind. Once the vines were back in sight he slowed and followed behind them, singing his direction song quietly to himself. “Left, right, straight. Left, left, right. Straight, straight, left, left. Right, right, straight, right, right.”
The ship was massive and, other than some areas smelling funkier than others, there was no variation in lighting, decoration or layout. The song was his map back to the rejuvenation pod, which was his only safe source of hydration. His companion padded along behind him, a friendly nightmare to accompany him on his seemingly endless journey. “We really need to give you a name.” He wished he had his phone with him so he could channel all his nervous energy into making a video. “The audience demands a name. Plus, I won’t be able to sell merch without one.” He turned and looked at the creature. “I’ll probably have to create space-halloween first, or maybe I’ll get lucky and find that you’re cute to some species.”
Aaron returned to following the corpse vine, waving a hand high as he spoke, gesticulating to the heavens. “The name is what matters: a good name makes all the difference.” He began seriously pondering the naming matter. “Aragog, Shelob; you know, lean into your size for a characterization. But then again, that's not really going to make people like you.” He looked back over his shoulder as the unnamed beast trotted happily behind him. He assumed happy, at least. It now tended to make an odd gurgling noise after eating, and it roamed closer to him than before. “You know, I never got to name Sassie – she’s my dog. I told you about her yesterday, or the day before.” He really was losing track of the days he’d been here. “I got her from a rescue. She was skinny, and so damn angry, with scars on her legs and under her fur. I had to have special visits before I could keep her. Prove I was worthy.”
Talking helped take his mind from the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. Hydration and nutrients osmotically obtained from some weird pod were nowhere near as satisfying as a burger and a cold beer. “Her first visit, she had a rubber ball. It was her only possession, and she loved it.” There was a touch of pride in his voice. “Took me an hour before she gave it up to play. The lady from the rescue centre said I was the first.” He choked up, blinking back tears. “Anyway, couple more visits and she got to stay. Crazy dog was such a handful. She once tried to climb a tree to chase a squirrel. Got her legs over the first branch and just dangled, kicking her back legs.” He began chuckling to himself. “She once tried to jump through a car window; some guy was parked at the lights as we walked past.”
He was just chatting now, lost in his memories as he walked. “You know the type, loud radio, windows rolled down on a sunny day, annoying the shit out of everyone in the town. He tossed some litter out of his window and she just launched herself at him. Scared the life out of me at the time - funny as fuck now, of course.” He laughed again. “Then there were the swans. Man, were they not ready. She loved to swim – I told you that before – swimming and splashing was her favourite release. Well, that and chasing rabbits which is, kinda, how I ended up here. Anyway, she would just swim up and down, right past the ducks and stuff, somehow never interested in them. Then one summer these swans came along...” He paused, realising his new friend didn’t know what a duck or a swan was, or even summer, probably. Before attempting to explain, he realised they also didn’t understand english, so it really didn’t matter. “Anyway, swans being belligerent bastards, I called her out of the water straight away. Those mean white fuckers chased her all the way to shore.”
He turned around, now grinning broadly. “But, once her feet hit the ground in the shallow water and she was able to stand, did those sons of bitches turn and swim away as fast as they could.” He paused, trying to remember his original point. He really was very hungry. “Oh yeah, so trying to stop her fighting everything that moved meant I didn’t have time to teach her a new name. Figured it would be confusing to her. Sassie she was, and so Sassie she stayed.”
There was a tightening in his chest as he thought of her missing him. “Took a lot of years and a lot of time for her to get where she is now. I know Alexa will take care of her, but still, it’s my job, and I need to get back to doing it. She won’t understand…” He choked up completely, taking a moment to compose himself before clearing his throat and returning his monologue to its original course. “Anyway, names. Names matter.”
“Maybe you’re a girl monster. Charlotte?” He shook his head. That name just didn’t seem fitting. “We could call you Peter Parker? Although, you’re more of a man-sized spider than a spiderman... Parker Peter? Then again, big, scary spiders say one thing to me. Australia. You like to jump, we could call you Roo? Or, how about Ozzy? Or Bruce? Hmm, that’s a sharks name though… can you swim?”
His train of thought derailed suddenly as he saw an open door ahead of them through which the vines were receding. The pair of them continued walking behind the vine until it disappeared into the doorway and Aaron ran forward, pulling something from his pocket. He’d been saving the foil wrapping from the ration bricks, folding them together to form a wedge. He jammed his makeshift door stop under the bottom corner of the door as it began to slide shut. It ground to a halt. “Boom! Told you it would work.”
He stood and finally looked into the vastness beyond. Through the doors was, somehow, a rolling meadow, complete with trees, giant mushrooms and plants he had no name for. Vines were also everywhere, receding further across the great wilderness. “What the hell? I thought I was on a spaceship? Am I underground?”
Staring intently at the sky, he stepped onto the deep moss beyond the door. He looked at the wall around the interior and saw it was rock, and more plant life clung to every crack and crevice. As he walked slowly forward his eyes followed the vine as it headed for a large, colourful, monolith. He approached and saw that its shape was similar to the vase flowers. He watched as the corpse vines deposited their cargo on top of the monolith. Not on, he corrected himself;they were dropping inside.
He looked back to the door, nervous that it might close and lock him in. A large black shadow lurked just beyond the door, and he was torn. Should he explore this 'outside' world, or retreat to the place where he at least had the rejuvenation pods? He looked up at the sky, basking in the warm and invigorating embrace of the sunlight. He blinked at the brightness, being cautious to not look at the sun directly, and something else suddenly caught his eye. It was, incredibly, a door. A door that floated in the sky.
The thing about human eyes is that they might be easily fooled, but a shift in perspective can easily change what you see to something entirely different. Aaron was looking up at a ceiling, like the one in the Atrium back on the Azrimad, but a hundred times more convincing.
Once back inside the doorway he watched the spiderling he was beginning to think of it as a friend dancing back and forth a short distance away. It seemed… happy. “Ok buddy, I’m back.” Aaron’s stomach made a loud gurgling sound and he rubbed it, trying to squeeze the hunger away. Fingers found muscle easier than usual, and he knew he was definitely losing weight. “We should head back. I need sleep.” He thought for a moment and made a final decision, bending down to pull the foil wedge clear. “I doubt there’s a communicator or command deck in there. Let’s go home, Ozzy.”
The trip back was uneventful, Aaron sang his direction song as they navigated the labyrinth. A few more aphids were snacked on by his leggy companion, but his own legs were heavy by the time he was almost back to the jelly beans. Despite being exhausted he had made two stops to create another pair of flower vases for the aphids, as well as scattering a ration brick as he passed by. The aphids waited, as they always did, till he and Ozzy were far enough away before enjoying his bounty. Still, the human derived satisfaction from their presence.
Exhausted and weary, Aaron was glad to finally make it back to the room he was reluctantly calling his temporary home. As the door to the rejuvenation pod slid open he was met, forcefully, by the barrel of an energy rifle. Unfortunately for Aaron, due to a considerable height difference, the barrel had struck him squarely in the groin, and he instantly fell to his knees. He came face to face with his attacker with tears in his eyes, clutching his tenderness and coughing. From the other being came incomprehensible yelling, as well as a lot of gun waving. Also, there was coughing.
Aaron, eventually mustering enough self-presence to do something other than deal with the after effects of the gun-to-groin encounter, wiped the moisture from his eyes and tried to butt in to the one-sided conversation. "Relax! I'm the one who just got snookered in the fucking balls, here! Why in the world are you so mad?"”
The gun was pressed to his forehead by the tiny attacker, who shouted something unintelligible with their black eyes focused on him. They paused to cough, then stepped back, glaring at Aaron until they seemed to feel comfortable enough with the situation to take one hand off of their weapon and pull out a datapad. They held it up, and Aaron frowned at the familiar but still unintelligible colours that swirled on the screen. Then a small vent at the bottom of the device squirted out a puff of sickly sweet scent.
Aaron pulled back from the odour. "What the fuck was that?"
With some distance between them, the human finally got a good look at his opponent. They were barely waist-height, furry, with a long nose and dark banding across their brown fur. The banding was heaviest across their eyes and although that’s where the similarities ended, it was enough for the human’s brain to forge a connection. “Listen, Rocket, there’s a virus on this ship. You need to get in the jelly bean. Trust me.”
The rifle was thrust at him shakily in one hand, the tablet again was raised and a swirl of colours and shapes greeted him. “I don’t speak fucking winamp plugin!” On the wall behind his captor Aaron spotted a dull orange aphid, struggling to climb the wall. He smiled as he slowly leaned to one side. “Have you met Ozzy?”
The huge arachnid leapt over them both, causing the newcomer to blindfire at the wall. Aaron seized his chance and snatched away the weapon. He grabbed the newcomer by the front of their armoured uniform and slammed them to the ground. They cried out in pain and began their incomprehensible yelling once more. The accompanying coughing fit was bad, and Aaron dragged them to their feet. Realising that his solitude had caused him to revert to English, he switched back to galactic standard to offer a warning about the disease. “You’re going to die!”
A shocked look crossed their face as the human effortlessly lifted them and slam dunked them into a blue jelly bean. Ozzy gurgled happily through his aphid crunching. Aaron snatched up the energy rifle, but found it was difficult to hold due to its small size. He leaned over the jelly bean, noting the occupant drifting off to sleep.
Hunger and tiredness were forgotten as adrenaline flooded his system. There was no way the newcomer was alone. He left the pod room to begin searching, and Ozzy seemed to pick up on his intention and followed behind, keeping close to the human. “Good boy!” He had no idea what prompted it, likely some automated response, and it was as though he watched his movements from outside of his body as he reached back and gently scratched the arachnid's head. He was rewarded with happy gurgles, or at least that's what he hoped the noises were. “You did good back there.”
He made his way along the corridor towards the same airlock he had once chosen as his final exit. His recent suspicion proved correct as he heard a strange sound up ahead, as if someone was running a wet finger around the rim of a glass. He carefully leaned around the curve and saw another figure, dressed in the same uniform as the first. No fur on this one, although they were equally small in size, and they somehow looked like they were made of glass which couldn’t decide on a colour.
This time he remembered to use galactic standard. “Keep your hands where we can see you. We’ve got you surrounded!” The figure was clearly startled, as the ambient resonating noise began varying wildly in pitch at the same moment as their colour shifted to a solid blue. Aaron cursed. He didn’t have a translator, having instead opted for learning standard and winging everything else. The whole federation knew standard, so he hadn’t truly considered getting the implant. “Something is wrong with our translators,” he continued to bluff. “Do you speak galactic standard?”
A datapad was hastily pulled from a pocket, and as buttons were pressed the resonating sound became more rhythmic. From the datapad sprung noises. No, it was a voice! “Why do you speak Procyon? Where is Commander Bertolannixostraphes?
Aaron began relaxing at the situation he found himself in, but inside he was brimming with joy. Finally, he could talk with someone! “There is a virus on this ship, and many are dead. If your commander is the raccoon-looking guy, I got them into a healing pod. They’re going to be fine.” Under his breath he added, “probably.”
The resonating began and shortly afterwards the voice translated, “Who are you? Why did you not answer our communications.”
Opting for honesty in the hopes of leniency, Aaron stepped into view. “I’m a passenger. I don’t have access to the ship's systems.” The newcomer was looking at the tiny gun, so the human tossed it forward. “I didn’t know if you were friendly. I can take you to your friend, and you should probably get treatment as well.”
The now-orange alien walked forward, their movement accompanied by the strange sound of ceramic plates rubbing together. “That won’t be a problem, we Tricinic do not catch meat diseases. I am Tsy'lo, take me to the commander.” They turned to look behind them. “Where are the others?”
Aaron pointed to Ozzy. “It’s just us two.”
Colours swirled and the small glass person thrummed. The datapad spoke, “You are the last human, the Ambassador. Correct?”
Turning and gesturing to be followed, he began to lead the way to the rejuvenation room. “I am the first human, Ambassador Aaron Cooper, professional bounty hunter. Just call me Aaron. Are you the rescue party? Is Alexa here? Did she bring Sassie?”
It took a moment for the translation to come back. “I don’t know those names. We are the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad and we responded to distress calls and found this ship. Adrift.” They had walked a little way when Tsy'lo stopped and regarded Ozzy, who was still faithfully following behind. “Why does the achalo follow you?”
“Ozzy?” Aaron shrugged. “I think he was lonely. So, were you sent into Hive space to find me, or are you on some top secret mission? You aren’t with the Sentinels, are you?”
“Lonely? But it is an achalo.” Tsy'lo was confused and their colour visibly swirled. “Why would a rescue mission be secret? And, we weren’t sent, we were already here.”
Now it was the human who was confused. “Like spies behind enemy lines? Is that why you are in Hive space?”
The Tricinic hummed at a higher frequency. “It is our space. We are the Hive!”
 
 
Admiral Pelar of the third fleet stood in the centre of the training mat. On the floor around her were four tough looking Ashi, while a fifth was now squaring off against her. She blocked the jab and the surprise knee strike that followed, turning effortlessly to bring her elbow to her opponents ribs. With another deft turn she was behind him and kicking his knees forward. He tried to roll clear but she had anticipated the move and, as he rose, her spinning boot struck the side of his head.
“Nice try gentlemen.” She walked away and caught a towel thrown by the drill instructor. “That last one has potential,” she said, and the drill instructor nodded. “Next time, I expect at least one of them to land a hit. If not, I’ll have you in the ring instead, to make sure you still have what it takes.” She saw the fear in his eyes. “I accept nothing but the best from the Third Fleet.”
The medics ran onto the mat as she dabbed at her forehead, and she spotted Jar’Bek sitting on a bench nearby. She walked over to him and he stood, straightening what was no doubt an extremely expensive suit. “From one disappointment to another.”
The lawyer smiled. “Imagine only seeing your son when he is paid to be in your presence,” he countered.
She smirked. “Your tongue is still your most deadly weapon.”
He nodded. “Ah, but it must make you proud to see me make use of the things you taught me.”
Her face twitched. “I taught you to be a true Ashi, a soldier. I taught you to respect-”
Jar’Bek held up his hand. “I’m here on my client’s business, not yours. And, as I am paid a considerable sum per gal, let us not waste their money on matters that are concluded.” He enjoyed the irritation on her face. “I am here to finalise the amnesty treaties, and conclude your membership as citizens of Earth.”
The Admiral held up her hands, looking down at her combat training clothing. “I must shower and change first. Please, wait for me in my private office.” She smiled politely.
“No.” His smile seemed to hover as if it was a mask that could slip at any time. “You may have disowned me, but I still remember your tricks. You knew the time of our meeting; you had me brought here so you could intimidate me with this display of aggression. Then you ask me to wait in your office amongst your memorabilia and trophies.” He watched the anger behind her eyes. “You really think these tired old tricks will work on me?”
She sneered. “At least you remember something.”
“Oh, I had the scars removed, but I kept the lessons.” He walked away. “My client's time is valuable and I have scheduled a meeting with the other fleet Admiral’s for later this cycle. Since we have no time for your games, let us go to the briefing room. My team is already set up. If you wish to shower, know that it is more of your negotiating time you are wasting, and I do so hate waste.” He collected his briefcase and walked out of the room.
Captain Loring hurried after Jar’Bek, catching him as he entered the elevator. “You sure you want to antagonise the Admiral like that?”
He leaned back against the wall of the elevator and relaxed, letting out a small sigh. “A little negotiating trick a Kittran taught me. Anyway, she is no longer my Admiral.”
Elora’Tan leaned back on the opposite wall. “She is your mother, Jar.”
“Ha.” Jar’Bek laughed. “She disowned me. This is the first contact we’ve had in I forget how many celes. Her first thought is to try and intimidate me with that display. She likes to beat on cadets, she likes to cause pain, and she wanted me to watch.”
Loring gave a weak smile. “It forges strong soldiers. We can’t afford weakness.”
The elevator stopped and Jar’Bek took a step closer to Elora’Tan. “You think it was weakness that made me leave?” He didn’t let her answer, turning and exiting into the hallway. His voice now resonated with authority as he growled, “In case you people have forgotten, the Ashi will operate under the same rules as the rest of the colony. My mother is not the law... I am the law.”
 
Next

…The raging river, pulled them down.
Now they’ll always, be together,
In that Happy Hunting Ground…
- Running Bear by Sonny James
“Snakeyes! New roller, please, next up.” The game runner raked in the dice and chips and ignored the despair in the countenance of the most recent “high roller”. Ted shook his head and other people crowded him away from the dice pit. He was almost out of funds and it was still early. He’d budgeted his, “loss level” carefully to maximize his time at the reservation casino. It was an older one, filled with stereotypical paintings and statues intended to honor the local First Nations Tribes while fulfilling the expectations of rude tourists. He looked around forlornly for a new game to play. He didn’t care for the slots or the drawn-out and ever-shifting card games… ah, Blackjack! There was an opening at the table.
He rushed over before anyone else could snag it and bustled onto the chair. “Okay to deal me in on the next hand?” He interrupted the dealer, who ignored him until he was done dealing out the rest of the players and raking in the chips. He still did not speak but once Ted placed the minimum bet, he flipped a card down in front of him and the game began. Ted immediately started winning the straightforward game. He picked up most of his losses from his unfortunate run at craps and was finally enjoying himself. The couple at the far end of the table had apparently had enough and didn’t care for the new player. Ted liked to talk to new people and thought he was good at it. Before long, the other players had left and it was down to him, the dealer, and an older man, who wore a black cowboy style hat and chain-smoked thin cigarillos.
Ted, grinning heartily at his latest win, glanced over at the man, who had just fired up his next cancer-stick, “You know casinos, and a few bars are the last public places where anyone smokes. I remember when there were smoking sections at most places and my parents told me that there used to be no restrictions. I’ll bet you get plenty of pressure to stop from your family and friends. It’s a pretty bad habit for your long-term health…” Ted usually rambled on past any non-verbal cues that people might give him to stop talking, yet his diatribe came to a screeching halt at the look with which the stern-faced elder favored him.
The older man drew in a long pull on the firestick and then exhaled the stinking cloud into Ted’s face. He coughed a little and gagged at the odor of the raw blend of tobacco and chemicals. The old one removed the cigarillo from his mouth and tapped ashes onto the edge of the table and down onto the floor at his toes, “Sonny, nobody cares. Nobody wants your opinion, and you are not special, no matter what your mommy told you. I’ll do as I please and if you don’t like it, go bother people at another table.”
Ted gaped in shock. In his mind, the man’s words verged on an “assault”. He looked helplessly at the dealer, who just ducked his head and tried not to laugh. Indignant, he rose, took his pile of chips and fled into the depths of the gaming house in search of a friendlier table. He didn’t find one that he liked, so he finally gave up and sat at the bar. The bartender seemed to ignore him in favor of tidying up her workspace. He cleared his throat and received only a glance. He mumbled as much to himself as to her, “I just want a drink while I wait for a table to open.” He wondered at her stony silence, maybe she resents me for being…
His vocal ruminations were interrupted by a feminine voice, “What do you want?”
Ted looked up to see the bartender, mocking smile in place below shining, mesmerizing eyes. Ted simply gaped and eventually worked his jaw uselessly. The bartender shrugged and walked back to the other end of the bar. She spoke with a large man who was clearly part of the security team. He glared at Ted while she spoke. Ted wanted to avoid a confrontation. He’d been conditioned that he should seek authorities if such a situation loomed. Yet casino security was the only available authority here locally. There were Tribal Police on the Reservation, but he wasn’t sure they would want to listen to him. He finally shrugged and decided to go back over to the hotel for the rest of the night. This trip had been very unsatisfying… like all those he’d taken since he moved away from his parents’ home a few years previously.
There was an indoor walkway to the hotel, but Ted decided to go by the outdoor route to get some fresh air and enjoy the natural beauty that the builders had incorporated into the facility. As he walked dejectedly down the sidewalk, local flora pressing in from each side, he heard, from the nearby forest, a screeching wail. It startled him and he had to stop a moment to catch his breath and wait for his heart rate to slow to something more manageable. He realized that it must have been an owl or some other night bird. His father had told him that there were always weird noises “out in the sticks”.
As he plunged his hands into his pockets and determined to go to his room for rest, he caught the faint smell of burning tobacco on the breeze. It wafted over his shoulder from behind and caused him to emit a feeble cough. He looked back in annoyance. In the shadows behind him, he saw a figure. It was dark and stood still in a way that made him uncomfortable. An orange glowing circle of embers hovered around the face and rendered just enough light to illuminate the blue-grey curls of smoke as they exited the tiny conflagration and rose above the brim of a black hat. The ember flared for a moment and then flashed to the ground and was snuffed by a shadowed… foot? It wasn’t exactly clear to Ted; the figure’s lower extremities were... blurred. An even brighter flare, from a lighter or match stabbed into Ted’s eyes as the Smoker lit his next cigarillo.
Ted glared irritation but felt uncomfortable at the unnatural stillness to which the figure returned once the new fire was lit. He coughed once more, this time deliberately in a passive-aggressive attempt to communicate his displeasure and resumed his walk. He strained to listen behind him to determine whether the figure followed. He truly wished to get away from the stink and the threat of cancer or other respiratory illnesses. He slowed to listen, then gave up and looked over his shoulder again. There was no figure in the dark back near the exit to the casino. He turned to resume his walk, but a smoky black form now loomed before him! Its eyes glowed and smoked like large twin cigars as it gaped a maw that emitted pure black smoke and glowed with blue flames within the deep tunnel of the throat. Ted’s consciousness fled his body and found itself in a burning nightmare landscape that extended for as far as he could perceive in all directions.
**** * ****
Darnell, known to his public as “Murder Bush” a deliberate mistranslation of “merde bouche” a.k.a. “Deadly Rapper” for having been a suspect in a shooting back in his youth, stepped up to the dice pit as the geeky dude left. He had plenty of chips and cash to back them. His entourage was there to support him and kiss his backside as often as he wished. He rolled through six passes before he crapped out. He hadn’t over-bet, so he’d won a small amount. He picked up his latest winning chips and handed them to the hostess who had kept him well plied with drinks and snacks. He was sure that for the right price, she would take care of his other needs. He played a few card tables and finished with Roulette.
Each time he won a few chips, he passed them on to the young woman or to one of his flunkies. In the end, they had all received at least some reward for the praises they’d heaped upon him; not for any real accomplishments, but rather to curry favor with the man whom they considered to be wealthy and important: a celebrity. The girl stayed at his side and except for when he asked her questions, she said nothing. He liked that: bitch know her place, he reveled in internal satisfaction. He liked her looks too. She was medium height and a little, “thick”. She was clearly interested but hadn’t gotten in his way when he flirted with other women. He truly liked this one. The more he considered her, the more he wanted to get down to business.
Eventually, he posed the question to her, “How much for the next few hours?” His brazen suggestion that she would take money for sexual favors was the final test. If she grew angry, then she didn’t appreciate his genius…
“Whatever you think is fair. How about we see if I can satisfy you? If I can, then you may want to be generous… as you have been so far.” She hefted the chips so that the pieces clinked in her palm. “If not, I don’t deserve a reward.”
She had passed with flying colors. Might even take this one back to civilization with me, he purred in his mind. He’d always thought of himself as a Big Cat… maybe a leopard or jaguar, definitely something dangerous and sleek. His need grew more intense by the moment. He desperately wanted this woman. “Come on, let’s go to my room.” He husked in a voice grown thick with desire.
They reached his suite, his groupies having been dismissed to their own nefarious pursuits, even his bodyguard. The big man had shrugged, “Your call boss-man.” and then stumped across the hallway to his own room. Now he was finally alone with… her. He stripped off his shirt and flipped his shoes into a corner. She stood by the window and watched. The drinks he’d consumed finally caught up with him before he’d shucked his pants and drawers, “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He was excited, which made urinating a challenge, but it had to be done, so that he could maximize his pleasure. When he stepped from the restroom, au natural, he saw that his latest conquest had done the same and now stood, bare to the world and staring out the window, all the curtains on it pushed to one side, so that the night loomed and the light of a single small desk lamp lit the room. He stalked over to her, ready to take her right there at the window in full view of anyone who looked up from the outside. He secretly hoped for an audience. He enjoyed having others watch him take what he wanted.
She turned to face him, her head lowered… no, it had sunken into her body, only her hair remained above her shoulders! A… mouth, gaping and slavering opened on her stomach, a mouth too large for her body and rimmed with rows of teeth like sharpened spikes. She stepped forward to embrace him and the screaming began… sounds that he was accustomed to eliciting from others rather than emitting from his own person.
**** * ****
“Rhino” was unhappy. He didn’t like to leave Darnell unattended. Perhaps now that his boss was in the room, he could go stand guard outside the door. He took care of some personal ablutions as he wolfed down a couple of energy bars and then walked out into the hallway. He started to settle in front of Darnell’s door, when he heard a muffled scream and faint… slobbering-gobbling noises come from the other side. He quickly tried the door, initially too panicked to think of the extra key card with which Darnell had entrusted him. He fumbled for it and soon had the door open. The interior was completely dark. The light from the hallway spilled inward but didn’t seem to reach as far into the room as it should.
He drew his pistol from the holster on his waistband and began to stalk forward, “Boss, you okay? You hurt?” The room was as silent as a tomb, he shivered a little as that thought crossed his mind. Over by the closed drapes, he smelled something awful: fresh blood and spilled entrails… recent death. His feet squelched on wet carpet. He turned around quickly. There had been no noise, but he’d felt a… presence. There she stood, arms spread wide, mouth on her gut spread wider. Rhino wasn’t one to scream or yell, even in extremis, so no others would come to this room to investigate.
**** * ****
Shelly was glad when the rowdy group left the roulette wheel that sat behind her favorite row of slots. The former “one-armed bandits”, that were now, “multiple button digital bandits” lined every available wall space, and in some spaces stood in rows that drew regulars like a dung-heap draws flies. She’d grabbed her favorite machine early in the evening and sat sliding in dollar bills and working up her points. It was called “Buffalo Dance” and featured images of American Bison and feather-bedecked hunters. The theme on the screen matched and she hoped to one day see the “White Buffalo” image adorn the entire set of images… the grand prize view. Despite the fun graphics, it was her favorite because it was near a restroom and a free soda and snack bar. She found herself ahead and on a roll. She absently lipped her dangling cigarette back into her mouth for a long draw. The smoke obscured the screen for a moment, and then she noted a shadow that lengthened across the reflective surface. Someone stood close behind her. Someone who exuded a chilly air. She paused and looked around, “Can I help you?”
There was no answer, though the shadow shifted slightly as if its caster had heard her.
Now she grew annoyed, this is just the sort of thing to break my winning streak! she raged internally. She braced her hands against the machine and worked her buttocks to make the stool on which she perched spin, so she could confront her harasser. She gaped, and nearly lost her cigarette, there was no one standing near enough to cast the shadow. No one even faced her. She chalked it up to excitement, maybe someone stepped too close when passing to go to the restroom, she thought, still a little annoyed and... chilled.
She turned back to her game and continued working the buttons, pumping in bills, and winning, a little at a time, the points now built well above her investment. This weekend is gonna pay for the last two months of losing and breaking even, she thought triumphantly. The shadow loomed across the screen once more, this time even larger, as though the figure that cast it stood closer. The shape was amorphous but hinted at anthropomorphic. She shivered as an icy breeze flowed around her, as though the air conditioning had sent out a short, cold burst, a minor malfunction…
She turned around with more alacrity and determination than the last time, mouth agape, cigarette once more dangling… precipitously and endangering the cleavage she displayed, already baked and wrinkled from years of sunbathing. The frigid air passed, and no one stood anywhere near her, though a customer approached, headed for either snacks or relief. “Excuse me sir, did you just see someone, maybe a large man, standing behind me?”
The man paused and looked at her in confusion. He had clearly been absorbed in his own thoughts, “Er, what? Uh, No. I wasn’t really paying attention, but… no.” He bustled on toward the free fountain drinks machine.
Shelly shrugged, can’t give up now, the pot is even bigger. She checked her points; she was nearing her all-time high. The winnings would pay her space rental fee at the RV park for the entire month. She pressed and played the buttons more fervently than ever, determined to break the bank on straight points or to reach that magical spin that would offer an instant reward of $10,000.00. She set her new points record and reveled for a moment. She reached for the now small stack of dollar bills the rest having been devoured by the machine. She fed in the entire remaining amount, then once more gazed at the screen. It was entirely blackened by a looming shadow.
The temperature of the air around her plummeted and she shuddered with the sudden biting cold. The cigarette was long extinguished, and she’d let the cold fag fall into the ash tray built onto the side of the machine opposite the drink holder. She was so cold, and she wanted to cry out for help, but the darkness closed in around her as the shadow enveloped her and cut off her breathing. Her fingers, paused above the “spin” button, struck and as her consciousness faded, she saw the flashing blue light and heard the blare of the winner’s siren. White Buffalo images filled all nine spaces. I won! The grand prize!
**** * ****
Terry filled his large cup and stood sipping and daydreaming. He’d lost everything he’d budgeted to lose. Yet he knew that one more try would put him back in black for this trip. He mused about what he would do with the prize money. He’d set his limit at $300.00 and had quickly lost it all on slots. Maybe he could risk just a few more dollars… skip a lunch or two until his next paycheck if it didn’t work. He was startled by the jackpot winner’s flashing light and siren that went off just behind him. That bitch! He yelled internally. Figures some old used up skank would win the big prize. He looked over at the nearby machine with anger and envy vying for control of his senses. She was gone!
He stepped over to the machine and looked around in confusion. Maybe she’d gone to the restroom? No, she’d have passed right by me. He shook his head and stepped up to look at the screen. He could still feel the recent presence of a player, the trace of warmth from a human body that might linger in a space for just a moment after the human had vacated the space. He looked around the casino floor, she was nowhere in sight. She’d been wearing a low-cut silver-spangled top that was cut way too low for her sagging, sun-ravaged bosom. She should be easy to spy, she looked like a deflated disco ball that had fallen from the ceiling to play slots. The only thing that came his way was a train of employees, led by a waitress in a skimpy outfit with purple sparkles and carrying a tray with a glass and a dark bottle. She was followed by other employees, who’d formed a sort of conga line: they sang a congratulatory chorus as they approached.
Terry gaped for a moment when he realized that they thought he was the big winner. He’d have to deny it of course. Surely the woman would be back at any moment to claim her prize. The floor cameras would have recorded who had sat at the machine, but it was too late. The group of enthused employees encircled him, and the attractive young waitress poured him a glass of champagne and snuggled up to him. The manager approached and seized his hand for a vigorous shake, “Well done sir! I see that not only have you hit the jackpot, but you’ve raised an additional $3,000.00 in points. A fabulous prize and well played I’m sure.”
Terry was flabbergasted. He’d never won anything like this… I still haven’t, not really, he reminded himself. He rarely broke even on his gambling forays, whether to the casino, or the corner store for lottery tickets and video slots. He allowed himself to be swept into the reverie and led from the machine to the bar. The employees peeled away as they approached, and he soon found himself with only the bottle and a receipt that he could cash out before he left the premises. A sullen-looking woman stood behind the bar, wiping glasses and a large, mean-looking security staffer menaced the far end. He already had his bottle, so he wasn’t sure why the staff members had deposited him with these two killjoys. He shrugged, picked up the champagne and started to walk away from the bar.
“You can’t take that with you. Either drink it here or give it to me and I’ll put it in the trash.” The bartender stated in monotone.
The security officer stood up straight from where he’d been leaning against the far wall, apparently propping up the building. He folded his massive arms in a threatening manner. Silly, thought Terry, folded arms should be a hindrance, but I get the feeling he’s dangerous regardless. He figured that he’d had enough anyway and set the nearly empty bottle on the bar, “You can keep it ma’am. I can afford another at the hotel.” Terry started to walk away from the bar, but a huge ham-like hand seized his shoulder.
Sausage-sized fingers applied painful pressure, “You apologize to the lady.” The wet heat from a mouth placed uncomfortably close to his ear and beath smelling of river bottom, sent a shiver of disgust through his body. The voice was low and deep as the river that ran past the back side of the property.
Terry decided on the better part of valor and head facing forward to avoid the obscene orifice, “Sorry ma’am, I meant no offense.”
The fingers let go and a harsh laugh sounded from behind the bar. “He don’t even know why he’s apologizing, fool. He ain’t worth the trouble, let him go.”
Terry felt a slight shove and he was sent on his way to the cash-out window. There he met with the lead cashier, an older woman in drab clothing, “I’m sorry sir, we give out only these pre-paid cards, we cannot provide cash over $1,000.00. However, you can treat them like a debit or credit card.” the cashier informed him. It seemed he had no choice, so he accepted. Thirteen grand is thirteen grand, he assured himself. He was elated, though he continued to glance around nervously, waiting for the woman in the sparkly fish-scale top to accost him and name him thief. Yet she was nowhere to be seen. The floor was full of players, some laughing, some intense, some dejected or mesmerized by the games of chance in which they’d lost themselves.
He thought about what to do with the rest of his evening. He didn’t have a hotel room; he’d planned to sleep in his station wagon as he always did before the long haul home. Perhaps he should get a room? Maybe they would take him without a reservation… he giggled a little at the unintended pun: a reservation at the Reservation… he shook his head to clear his overreaction to the silly internal joke. He decided that maybe someone on staff could help him. He approached the major domo at the front entrance that led to the interior walkway and the hotel beyond, “Excuse me sir, do you know whether the hotel will accept a resident without a prior reservation?”
The man, single dark braid wrapped in a leather holder and draped over one shoulder, looked at him gravely, “Yes, I know.” He said nothing more and did not smile as though he’d intended to be humorous.
Terry tried again, “Will you tell me please?”
The man flicked his chin in the direction of the hotel, “See the clerk at the desk.”
“Jerk, you’d think I hadn’t pissed away enough cash in this place over the past few years,” Terry muttered as he stumped toward the hotel, ensuring that he was well beyond earshot before he spoke. His head had begun to buzz a little from the champagne. Took a while for it to affect me, he mused. The hallway appeared to narrow, and his peripheral vision grew grey. He felt dizzy and as he entered the main lobby, the large room began to spin. His last view was of the sky-blue ceiling decorated with a few puffy clouds as it faded into darkness like the sun had set.
He awakened to the sounds of voices chattering happily. He looked around, his vision blurred slightly and his head feeling heavy and sore. He soon found that he could not move his arms or legs… they were bound… he was strapped to a table. He saw numerous bodies moving about in the mostly dark space in which he found himself. “Please.” He croaked, throat dry and feeling scraped. “Please, help me, let me loose. Loose me…” his perceptions cleared slowly, and he saw that the bodies that moved around him, now chanting rhythmically rather than babble-chattering, were emaciated. The owners showed as much bone through their skin as would a dead thing, long decayed. He noted spikes above a few heads… no, antlers… The rest wore… masks? Of various beasts… no, the skulls of those creatures, still filled with glistening fangs. Their dance grew ever more frantic, more energetic than they should be capable of performing. Then one of them reached out with a stick, on the end of which was a small claw, taken and preserved from some dead animal. It used the claw to gouge out a scoop of flesh from Terry’s side. He screamed in torment and horror. His screams soon matched the rhythm of the chanting and they went on for a long time before they at last faded when he’d lost too much blood to remain conscious.
**** * **** END PAGE 1 of 2

…The raging river, pulled them down.
Now they’ll always, be together,
In that Happy Hunting Ground…
- Running Bear by Sonny James
“Snakeyes! New roller, please, next up.” The game runner raked in the dice and chips and ignored the despair in the countenance of the most recent “high roller”. Ted shook his head and other people crowded him away from the dice pit. He was almost out of funds and it was still early. He’d budgeted his, “loss level” carefully to maximize his time at the reservation casino. It was an older one, filled with stereotypical paintings and statues intended to honor the local First Nations Tribes while fulfilling the expectations of rude tourists. He looked around forlornly for a new game to play. He didn’t care for the slots or the drawn-out and ever-shifting card games… ah, Blackjack! There was an opening at the table.
He rushed over before anyone else could snag it and bustled onto the chair. “Okay to deal me in on the next hand?” He interrupted the dealer, who ignored him until he was done dealing out the rest of the players and raking in the chips. He still did not speak but once Ted placed the minimum bet, he flipped a card down in front of him and the game began. Ted immediately started winning the straightforward game. He picked up most of his losses from his unfortunate run at craps and was finally enjoying himself. The couple at the far end of the table had apparently had enough and didn’t care for the new player. Ted liked to talk to new people and thought he was good at it. Before long, the other players had left and it was down to him, the dealer, and an older man, who wore a black cowboy style hat and chain-smoked thin cigarillos.
Ted, grinning heartily at his latest win, glanced over at the man, who had just fired up his next cancer-stick, “You know casinos, and a few bars are the last public places where anyone smokes. I remember when there were smoking sections at most places and my parents told me that there used to be no restrictions. I’ll bet you get plenty of pressure to stop from your family and friends. It’s a pretty bad habit for your long-term health…” Ted usually rambled on past any non-verbal cues that people might give him to stop talking, yet his diatribe came to a screeching halt at the look with which the stern-faced elder favored him.
The older man drew in a long pull on the firestick and then exhaled the stinking cloud into Ted’s face. He coughed a little and gagged at the odor of the raw blend of tobacco and chemicals. The old one removed the cigarillo from his mouth and tapped ashes onto the edge of the table and down onto the floor at his toes, “Sonny, nobody cares. Nobody wants your opinion, and you are not special, no matter what your mommy told you. I’ll do as I please and if you don’t like it, go bother people at another table.”
Ted gaped in shock. In his mind, the man’s words verged on an “assault”. He looked helplessly at the dealer, who just ducked his head and tried not to laugh. Indignant, he rose, took his pile of chips and fled into the depths of the gaming house in search of a friendlier table. He didn’t find one that he liked, so he finally gave up and sat at the bar. The bartender seemed to ignore him in favor of tidying up her workspace. He cleared his throat and received only a glance. He mumbled as much to himself as to her, “I just want a drink while I wait for a table to open.” He wondered at her stony silence, maybe she resents me for being…
His vocal ruminations were interrupted by a feminine voice, “What do you want?”
Ted looked up to see the bartender, mocking smile in place below shining, mesmerizing eyes. Ted simply gaped and eventually worked his jaw uselessly. The bartender shrugged and walked back to the other end of the bar. She spoke with a large man who was clearly part of the security team. He glared at Ted while she spoke. Ted wanted to avoid a confrontation. He’d been conditioned that he should seek authorities if such a situation loomed. Yet casino security was the only available authority here locally. There were Tribal Police on the Reservation, but he wasn’t sure they would want to listen to him. He finally shrugged and decided to go back over to the hotel for the rest of the night. This trip had been very unsatisfying… like all those he’d taken since he moved away from his parents’ home a few years previously.
There was an indoor walkway to the hotel, but Ted decided to go by the outdoor route to get some fresh air and enjoy the natural beauty that the builders had incorporated into the facility. As he walked dejectedly down the sidewalk, local flora pressing in from each side, he heard, from the nearby forest, a screeching wail. It startled him and he had to stop a moment to catch his breath and wait for his heart rate to slow to something more manageable. He realized that it must have been an owl or some other night bird. His father had told him that there were always weird noises “out in the sticks”.
As he plunged his hands into his pockets and determined to go to his room for rest, he caught the faint smell of burning tobacco on the breeze. It wafted over his shoulder from behind and caused him to emit a feeble cough. He looked back in annoyance. In the shadows behind him, he saw a figure. It was dark and stood still in a way that made him uncomfortable. An orange glowing circle of embers hovered around the face and rendered just enough light to illuminate the blue-grey curls of smoke as they exited the tiny conflagration and rose above the brim of a black hat. The ember flared for a moment and then flashed to the ground and was snuffed by a shadowed… foot? It wasn’t exactly clear to Ted; the figure’s lower extremities were... blurred. An even brighter flare, from a lighter or match stabbed into Ted’s eyes as the Smoker lit his next cigarillo.
Ted glared irritation but felt uncomfortable at the unnatural stillness to which the figure returned once the new fire was lit. He coughed once more, this time deliberately in a passive-aggressive attempt to communicate his displeasure and resumed his walk. He strained to listen behind him to determine whether the figure followed. He truly wished to get away from the stink and the threat of cancer or other respiratory illnesses. He slowed to listen, then gave up and looked over his shoulder again. There was no figure in the dark back near the exit to the casino. He turned to resume his walk, but a smoky black form now loomed before him! Its eyes glowed and smoked like large twin cigars as it gaped a maw that emitted pure black smoke and glowed with blue flames within the deep tunnel of the throat. Ted’s consciousness fled his body and found itself in a burning nightmare landscape that extended for as far as he could perceive in all directions.
**** * ****
Darnell, known to his public as “Murder Bush” a deliberate mistranslation of “merde bouche” a.k.a. “Deadly Rapper” for having been a suspect in a shooting back in his youth, stepped up to the dice pit as the geeky dude left. He had plenty of chips and cash to back them. His entourage was there to support him and kiss his backside as often as he wished. He rolled through six passes before he crapped out. He hadn’t over-bet, so he’d won a small amount. He picked up his latest winning chips and handed them to the hostess who had kept him well plied with drinks and snacks. He was sure that for the right price, she would take care of his other needs. He played a few card tables and finished with Roulette.
Each time he won a few chips, he passed them on to the young woman or to one of his flunkies. In the end, they had all received at least some reward for the praises they’d heaped upon him; not for any real accomplishments, but rather to curry favor with the man whom they considered to be wealthy and important: a celebrity. The girl stayed at his side and except for when he asked her questions, she said nothing. He liked that: bitch know her place, he reveled in internal satisfaction. He liked her looks too. She was medium height and a little, “thick”. She was clearly interested but hadn’t gotten in his way when he flirted with other women. He truly liked this one. The more he considered her, the more he wanted to get down to business.
Eventually, he posed the question to her, “How much for the next few hours?” His brazen suggestion that she would take money for sexual favors was the final test. If she grew angry, then she didn’t appreciate his genius…
“Whatever you think is fair. How about we see if I can satisfy you? If I can, then you may want to be generous… as you have been so far.” She hefted the chips so that the pieces clinked in her palm. “If not, I don’t deserve a reward.”
She had passed with flying colors. Might even take this one back to civilization with me, he purred in his mind. He’d always thought of himself as a Big Cat… maybe a leopard or jaguar, definitely something dangerous and sleek. His need grew more intense by the moment. He desperately wanted this woman. “Come on, let’s go to my room.” He husked in a voice grown thick with desire.
They reached his suite, his groupies having been dismissed to their own nefarious pursuits, even his bodyguard. The big man had shrugged, “Your call boss-man.” and then stumped across the hallway to his own room. Now he was finally alone with… her. He stripped off his shirt and flipped his shoes into a corner. She stood by the window and watched. The drinks he’d consumed finally caught up with him before he’d shucked his pants and drawers, “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He was excited, which made urinating a challenge, but it had to be done, so that he could maximize his pleasure. When he stepped from the restroom, au natural, he saw that his latest conquest had done the same and now stood, bare to the world and staring out the window, all the curtains on it pushed to one side, so that the night loomed and the light of a single small desk lamp lit the room. He stalked over to her, ready to take her right there at the window in full view of anyone who looked up from the outside. He secretly hoped for an audience. He enjoyed having others watch him take what he wanted.
She turned to face him, her head lowered… no, it had sunken into her body, only her hair remained above her shoulders! A… mouth, gaping and slavering opened on her stomach, a mouth too large for her body and rimmed with rows of teeth like sharpened spikes. She stepped forward to embrace him and the screaming began… sounds that he was accustomed to eliciting from others rather than emitting from his own person.
**** * ****
“Rhino” was unhappy. He didn’t like to leave Darnell unattended. Perhaps now that his boss was in the room, he could go stand guard outside the door. He took care of some personal ablutions as he wolfed down a couple of energy bars and then walked out into the hallway. He started to settle in front of Darnell’s door, when he heard a muffled scream and faint… slobbering-gobbling noises come from the other side. He quickly tried the door, initially too panicked to think of the extra key card with which Darnell had entrusted him. He fumbled for it and soon had the door open. The interior was completely dark. The light from the hallway spilled inward but didn’t seem to reach as far into the room as it should.
He drew his pistol from the holster on his waistband and began to stalk forward, “Boss, you okay? You hurt?” The room was as silent as a tomb, he shivered a little as that thought crossed his mind. Over by the closed drapes, he smelled something awful: fresh blood and spilled entrails… recent death. His feet squelched on wet carpet. He turned around quickly. There had been no noise, but he’d felt a… presence. There she stood, arms spread wide, mouth on her gut spread wider. Rhino wasn’t one to scream or yell, even in extremis, so no others would come to this room to investigate.
**** * ****
Shelly was glad when the rowdy group left the roulette wheel that sat behind her favorite row of slots. The former “one-armed bandits”, that were now, “multiple button digital bandits” lined every available wall space, and in some spaces stood in rows that drew regulars like a dung-heap draws flies. She’d grabbed her favorite machine early in the evening and sat sliding in dollar bills and working up her points. It was called “Buffalo Dance” and featured images of American Bison and feather-bedecked hunters. The theme on the screen matched and she hoped to one day see the “White Buffalo” image adorn the entire set of images… the grand prize view. Despite the fun graphics, it was her favorite because it was near a restroom and a free soda and snack bar. She found herself ahead and on a roll. She absently lipped her dangling cigarette back into her mouth for a long draw. The smoke obscured the screen for a moment, and then she noted a shadow that lengthened across the reflective surface. Someone stood close behind her. Someone who exuded a chilly air. She paused and looked around, “Can I help you?”
There was no answer, though the shadow shifted slightly as if its caster had heard her.
Now she grew annoyed, this is just the sort of thing to break my winning streak! she raged internally. She braced her hands against the machine and worked her buttocks to make the stool on which she perched spin, so she could confront her harasser. She gaped, and nearly lost her cigarette, there was no one standing near enough to cast the shadow. No one even faced her. She chalked it up to excitement, maybe someone stepped too close when passing to go to the restroom, she thought, still a little annoyed and... chilled.
She turned back to her game and continued working the buttons, pumping in bills, and winning, a little at a time, the points now built well above her investment. This weekend is gonna pay for the last two months of losing and breaking even, she thought triumphantly. The shadow loomed across the screen once more, this time even larger, as though the figure that cast it stood closer. The shape was amorphous but hinted at anthropomorphic. She shivered as an icy breeze flowed around her, as though the air conditioning had sent out a short, cold burst, a minor malfunction…
She turned around with more alacrity and determination than the last time, mouth agape, cigarette once more dangling… precipitously and endangering the cleavage she displayed, already baked and wrinkled from years of sunbathing. The frigid air passed, and no one stood anywhere near her, though a customer approached, headed for either snacks or relief. “Excuse me sir, did you just see someone, maybe a large man, standing behind me?”
The man paused and looked at her in confusion. He had clearly been absorbed in his own thoughts, “Er, what? Uh, No. I wasn’t really paying attention, but… no.” He bustled on toward the free fountain drinks machine.
Shelly shrugged, can’t give up now, the pot is even bigger. She checked her points; she was nearing her all-time high. The winnings would pay her space rental fee at the RV park for the entire month. She pressed and played the buttons more fervently than ever, determined to break the bank on straight points or to reach that magical spin that would offer an instant reward of $10,000.00. She set her new points record and reveled for a moment. She reached for the now small stack of dollar bills the rest having been devoured by the machine. She fed in the entire remaining amount, then once more gazed at the screen. It was entirely blackened by a looming shadow.
The temperature of the air around her plummeted and she shuddered with the sudden biting cold. The cigarette was long extinguished, and she’d let the cold fag fall into the ash tray built onto the side of the machine opposite the drink holder. She was so cold, and she wanted to cry out for help, but the darkness closed in around her as the shadow enveloped her and cut off her breathing. Her fingers, paused above the “spin” button, struck and as her consciousness faded, she saw the flashing blue light and heard the blare of the winner’s siren. White Buffalo images filled all nine spaces. I won! The grand prize!
**** * ****
Terry filled his large cup and stood sipping and daydreaming. He’d lost everything he’d budgeted to lose. Yet he knew that one more try would put him back in black for this trip. He mused about what he would do with the prize money. He’d set his limit at $300.00 and had quickly lost it all on slots. Maybe he could risk just a few more dollars… skip a lunch or two until his next paycheck if it didn’t work. He was startled by the jackpot winner’s flashing light and siren that went off just behind him. That bitch! He yelled internally. Figures some old used up skank would win the big prize. He looked over at the nearby machine with anger and envy vying for control of his senses. She was gone!
He stepped over to the machine and looked around in confusion. Maybe she’d gone to the restroom? No, she’d have passed right by me. He shook his head and stepped up to look at the screen. He could still feel the recent presence of a player, the trace of warmth from a human body that might linger in a space for just a moment after the human had vacated the space. He looked around the casino floor, she was nowhere in sight. She’d been wearing a low-cut silver-spangled top that was cut way too low for her sagging, sun-ravaged bosom. She should be easy to spy, she looked like a deflated disco ball that had fallen from the ceiling to play slots. The only thing that came his way was a train of employees, led by a waitress in a skimpy outfit with purple sparkles and carrying a tray with a glass and a dark bottle. She was followed by other employees, who’d formed a sort of conga line: they sang a congratulatory chorus as they approached.
Terry gaped for a moment when he realized that they thought he was the big winner. He’d have to deny it of course. Surely the woman would be back at any moment to claim her prize. The floor cameras would have recorded who had sat at the machine, but it was too late. The group of enthused employees encircled him, and the attractive young waitress poured him a glass of champagne and snuggled up to him. The manager approached and seized his hand for a vigorous shake, “Well done sir! I see that not only have you hit the jackpot, but you’ve raised an additional $3,000.00 in points. A fabulous prize and well played I’m sure.”
Terry was flabbergasted. He’d never won anything like this… I still haven’t, not really, he reminded himself. He rarely broke even on his gambling forays, whether to the casino, or the corner store for lottery tickets and video slots. He allowed himself to be swept into the reverie and led from the machine to the bar. The employees peeled away as they approached, and he soon found himself with only the bottle and a receipt that he could cash out before he left the premises. A sullen-looking woman stood behind the bar, wiping glasses and a large, mean-looking security staffer menaced the far end. He already had his bottle, so he wasn’t sure why the staff members had deposited him with these two killjoys. He shrugged, picked up the champagne and started to walk away from the bar.
“You can’t take that with you. Either drink it here or give it to me and I’ll put it in the trash.” The bartender stated in monotone.
The security officer stood up straight from where he’d been leaning against the far wall, apparently propping up the building. He folded his massive arms in a threatening manner. Silly, thought Terry, folded arms should be a hindrance, but I get the feeling he’s dangerous regardless. He figured that he’d had enough anyway and set the nearly empty bottle on the bar, “You can keep it ma’am. I can afford another at the hotel.” Terry started to walk away from the bar, but a huge ham-like hand seized his shoulder.
Sausage-sized fingers applied painful pressure, “You apologize to the lady.” The wet heat from a mouth placed uncomfortably close to his ear and beath smelling of river bottom, sent a shiver of disgust through his body. The voice was low and deep as the river that ran past the back side of the property.
Terry decided on the better part of valor and head facing forward to avoid the obscene orifice, “Sorry ma’am, I meant no offense.”
The fingers let go and a harsh laugh sounded from behind the bar. “He don’t even know why he’s apologizing, fool. He ain’t worth the trouble, let him go.”
Terry felt a slight shove and he was sent on his way to the cash-out window. There he met with the lead cashier, an older woman in drab clothing, “I’m sorry sir, we give out only these pre-paid cards, we cannot provide cash over $1,000.00. However, you can treat them like a debit or credit card.” the cashier informed him. It seemed he had no choice, so he accepted. Thirteen grand is thirteen grand, he assured himself. He was elated, though he continued to glance around nervously, waiting for the woman in the sparkly fish-scale top to accost him and name him thief. Yet she was nowhere to be seen. The floor was full of players, some laughing, some intense, some dejected or mesmerized by the games of chance in which they’d lost themselves.
He thought about what to do with the rest of his evening. He didn’t have a hotel room; he’d planned to sleep in his station wagon as he always did before the long haul home. Perhaps he should get a room? Maybe they would take him without a reservation… he giggled a little at the unintended pun: a reservation at the Reservation… he shook his head to clear his overreaction to the silly internal joke. He decided that maybe someone on staff could help him. He approached the major domo at the front entrance that led to the interior walkway and the hotel beyond, “Excuse me sir, do you know whether the hotel will accept a resident without a prior reservation?”
The man, single dark braid wrapped in a leather holder and draped over one shoulder, looked at him gravely, “Yes, I know.” He said nothing more and did not smile as though he’d intended to be humorous.
Terry tried again, “Will you tell me please?”
The man flicked his chin in the direction of the hotel, “See the clerk at the desk.”
“Jerk, you’d think I hadn’t pissed away enough cash in this place over the past few years,” Terry muttered as he stumped toward the hotel, ensuring that he was well beyond earshot before he spoke. His head had begun to buzz a little from the champagne. Took a while for it to affect me, he mused. The hallway appeared to narrow, and his peripheral vision grew grey. He felt dizzy and as he entered the main lobby, the large room began to spin. His last view was of the sky-blue ceiling decorated with a few puffy clouds as it faded into darkness like the sun had set.
He awakened to the sounds of voices chattering happily. He looked around, his vision blurred slightly and his head feeling heavy and sore. He soon found that he could not move his arms or legs… they were bound… he was strapped to a table. He saw numerous bodies moving about in the mostly dark space in which he found himself. “Please.” He croaked, throat dry and feeling scraped. “Please, help me, let me loose. Loose me…” his perceptions cleared slowly, and he saw that the bodies that moved around him, now chanting rhythmically rather than babble-chattering, were emaciated. The owners showed as much bone through their skin as would a dead thing, long decayed. He noted spikes above a few heads… no, antlers… The rest wore… masks? Of various beasts… no, the skulls of those creatures, still filled with glistening fangs. Their dance grew ever more frantic, more energetic than they should be capable of performing. Then one of them reached out with a stick, on the end of which was a small claw, taken and preserved from some dead animal. It used the claw to gouge out a scoop of flesh from Terry’s side. He screamed in torment and horror. His screams soon matched the rhythm of the chanting and they went on for a long time before they at last faded when he’d lost too much blood to remain conscious.
**** * ****

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Hey folks, below I will write my story about the impact that gambling had upon my life, hold tight, I like to give details.
Early days
It all started when I was around 15-16 y/o and got into high-school. It was somewhat of a trend in my classroom that some of the kids were gambling their lunch money on football ( and in my country nobody would care if a kid would walk into a betting shop). Me and my best friend got interested and started looking into it. Fast forward 2 years later (after we've tried and failed a lot of things and lost some money, but not a lot as you don't have a lot of money in your hands as a kid, we managed to find out a way of actually winning out of football bets) I started making serious amounts of money for my age (17-18 y/o), somewhere around the same money my mum was making after 20-25 years of career. A few months into this, my mum finds the stacks of money hidden in my room and the papers where I was writing my BankRoll transactions and bets by hand to keep track of winnings and losings and she thought I was selling drugs or doing some weird kind of shit, I told her what I was about and she forced me to stop - despite the amounts of money. So far no hard feelings were involved into gambling, it was more of an interesting challenge for me.
A few months later, after the money had run out, I lost a good chunk of money my mum gave me for a holiday on gambling and promised myself to never do it again like this...
I ended up getting into poker... I've started reading a few books and strategy about poker and then I did an online deposit after I turned 18. The first tournament I play with money won at freerolls, I end up taking 1st place - I can't tell you how excited I was.
Where is this taking me?
A few years later I find myself going through a Computing Science degree at uni. Poker was a huge dream of mine but I ended up playing higher stakes than I should, I ended up throwing away a lot of my own money (earned through part-time jobs while studying) online and live in the casinos. Truth is I could've had fun using that money but I spewed it away. Through these years I started developing an addiction for the feelings that gambling gives you. I had huge issues with depression and anxiety, was suicidal two times but never ended up doing it, gambling and videogames were the perfect getaway...with gambling slowly creeping in.
I find myself getting an internship at a top company and got paid really well that summer. I end up blasting a good chunk of it on high stakes poker and then I get into slots...
At slots, I end up spinning 1k into 12.5k, withdrew it all away knowing this amount of money was covering all my loses through the uni years and it was adding some good profit on top. I sit on that money for about a month, ready to buy my dream car and get away from gambling....I end up depositing chunk after chunk after chunk...guess what? losing all of it!!!
Then I realize how big of an issue gambling is and how much is degrading my mental health and the way I feel about the world, I go through therapy and stop.
It has to stop now
Few years later, my internship turned into a well paying job at a top corporation. I've been gambling free for a couple of years, I'm saving a good chunk and of income and investing most of it. But hey...working a 9-5, wearing a suit and dying in front of a screen is not the dream, is it? So I'm starting to think about a way of getting away, of living differently and I remember about my old friend..poker..and how so many people live off poker. But I don't remember the issues that I had with slots and the roller-coaster gambling took me so far.
Anyways, I start studying the game deeply and promised to be professional about it. At this time I sit on savings that I can use to deposit money to get my first house, or to buy a brand new sports car....at 25 y/o, but I decide to give poker a chance and see if it can take me places.
Few months into the grind, I end up playing high stakes poker and winning at it by a small margin. Was winning at the game but my mental state was degrading, gambling for a living if you are not strong mentally is not to be advised, and I was not that strong mentally if you remember the issues that I had before. I promised I would use only 25-30% of my savings to give this a shot, I end up using 70% of my savings,I end up losing all of it playing nose bleed stakes with the crushers and in a few days they crushed me, and to be honest it's not the money that I lost that is the issue. I completely stopped and I will never get back to this, I will go seek a different self and run away from this.
The real issue
The main problem is that gambling kills you mentally and messes up with your energy as a person. You end up seeing life differently, you end up with the wrong view of what happiness is. I wish I could go back in time to when I was in high-school and look at my classmates placing football bets and take the opposite route and be like..that's stupid, that's not for me. Could've saved me of so many years of self-inflicted pain.
For anyone reading this post, thank you and if you have or believe to have an issue with gambling, winning or losing, it's not going to end up well, even if you are winning, that's my opinion. You might be winning money, but you are losing soul.
I will go ahead and buy myself a 2nd hand car with the money left and for the time that I will use it, let it be a daily reminder that I should not gamble ever again, and be happy with what I've managed to achieve in my career so far.
I'm posting this as none of my family know about my issue and I'm looking for a bit of support.

After extensive reviews of various online casinos operating legally in Canada, it was easy to narrow it down to the top 5 operators. It’s not only about the casino’s game variety. Many factors play a vital part in earning it a top-notch score.
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Sorry about the absence but I'm back in the saddle. The White Star arc continues.
The rest of the series can be found here
Shelia flipped through status screen after status screen monitoring her unit’s progress through the ship. Things were going smoothly. Captured crew and passengers were in the process of being separated and secured in separate cargo holds. Almost the entire ship had been secured. Only a few stubborn holdouts remained and they would be running out of air soon. She nodded in satisfaction.
She turned to T’sunk’al who was hunched over large pieces of paper on the deck of the bridge.
“So, T, how are you coming along?” She asked.
“Pretty much done. Just double-checking my work but I should be able to void-jump this baby pretty much any time.”
“Great,” she replied. “Sooner this thing falls off the map the better.” She paused and smiled. “Don’t rush it though.”
“Don’t worry,” T’sunk’al chuckled. “I have no desire to become one with the universe today.”
“Good.”
Rupert Glent had finally talked his wife out from under the table shortly before the blast doors to the restaurant slammed open with a “BANG”.
Multiple squads of humans, drax, and z’uush swept in shouting commands. Mustering all of his courage he stepped forward with his hands out in front of him.
“Listen, we are all reasonable-” he started before he was roughly shoved to the ground by Jak’kul’sha.
“Yeah, we are all reasonable,” Jak’kul’sha replied, “And you are going to reasonably pick your ass up and get over there with everyone else.”
“How much are they paying you?” Rupert asked still laying on the floor in front of his terrified family.
“Enough to not waste my time listening to your bullshit.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll double it.”
“Oh,” Bal’sur’kala laughed. “There are a whole lot of us. Gonna double everyone’s pay?”
“Yes! Yes. No problem.”
“Ok, well, doubling it isn’t going to cut it. You are going to have to at least triple it before we will even consider crossing the people in charge. This might come as a shock, but they aren’t terribly nice people.”
“Fine!”
“Ok,” Bal’sur’kala buzzed. “We are all getting paid over a million credits a piece. That’s fifteen million just for our squad… times eleven squads, most at least as big as ours,” he laughed as Rupert’s face fell. “Do you happen to have one-hundred and sixty-five million in your pocket?”
“You just did that in your head? Wow!” Mul’sha’kal gushed.
“It’s fuckin’ Brainiac. Course he did it in his fuckin’ head,” Jak’kul’sha grumbled. “Can you stop chirpin’ in his ear till we get these little piggies in the fuckin’ barn?”
“I’m… I’m sure we can work something-”
“I didn’t ask if we could work something out,” Bal’sur’kala said grinning at Mul’sha’kal, “I distinctly asked you whether or not you had one-hundred and sixty-five million credits currently in your possession.”
“Well, no...”
“Then shut the fuck up and get your ass in line,” Jak’kul’sha said in a buzzy growl. “And you two,” he barked at the two lovebirds on his team. “I don’t wanna hear either of you fuckin’ chirpin’ till we are done, got it? Not one fuckin’ peep.”
“Yes, boss.” they both said in unison.
“I’m not your… you know what,” Jak’kul’sha growled and buzzed, “nevermind. Click-holes shut. Eyes open, all of them.”
“Councilor!” Helena shouted as she tapped the bars of his cell again, “This is your last chance. Do you have a statement?”
“For fuck’s sake, Helena,” Roberts laughed. “Give it a rest for a minute.”
“It’s just that this porkie scum is going to go and get his head blown off by you animals without him ever admitting to all of the shit that he did.”
“Like you say, porkies gonna pork. Is it really that big of a surprise. Besides, for something like him to admit fault he would actually have to believe that he did something wrong. Bet he doesn’t feel anything close to that.”
“Come on, even scum like him has to know what he did. He started the fucking war!”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” Roberts chuckled. “Oh he certainly deserves what we are going to do to him for his role in things but there were other factors in play. You haven’t heard the intelligence briefings?”
“No...”
“Oh, remind me when we get to our ship and I’ll be sure to give you copies of all of their security briefings and deliberations before the war. I thought that was part of what was dropped. They are pretty funny. Director Axlea lost her shit and I mean completely lost it. She was a hoot!”
“Holy shit! You have those?” Helena gasped.
“Oh yeah, I made sure to grab them while I was in there.”
“Wait… you?...”
“Yeah, I am in fact the actual fuckstain who did the ‘hack’,” Roberts said as he grinned at her.
“You! Oh you asshole!” Helena exclaimed as she launched herself at Roberts. Roberts laughed as he defended himself and as they they wrestled and laughed their eyes met… and they kissed. It was quickly followed by another kiss and then another and another as they lost themselves in each other’s embrace… almost a little too much. They were well on the way to “making up for lost time” before they remembered that they had an audience.
“I love you, Paul,” Helena sighed as they stopped pawing each other and she rested her head on his chest. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too, Helena,” Paul said as he gently stroked her hair as he held her.
They just sat there holding each other.
“This is so stupid,” Helena said as she hugged him tight. “I mean we have known each other for how long? A couple of weeks?”
“Not even that,” Paul said as he gently kissed her again.
“I mean, what are we going to do? I want you in my life, like really in my life, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Me too.”
“But we can’t have that. I’ve tried to work out a way but I’d last about a week in the Republic if I was lucky and you… kill orders...”
“I know,” Paul said as he held her. “I know. I’ve tried too and I just can’t see.”
“Oh please,” Jessie’s voice said over the intercom.
“Jessie… Goddammit!” Roberts exclaimed in annoyance as he glared up at a surveillance camera in the corner. “Don’t you have a ship to monitor?”
“Oh, I am doing that but Bunny told me that you guys were up to something ‘odd’. I think it’s time I have ‘the talk’ with her… They grow up so fast...”
“I am perfectly aware of this ‘talk’ of which you are referencing and I have repeatedly asked you to stop anthropomorphizing me,” a snippy voice cut in. “I just decided that their activities were unusual enough to warrant informing you.”
“Oh Bunny, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” Jessie laughed, “I have a book to show you and everything...”
“The ‘book’ you are referring to is already in my memory. ‘Showing it to me’ is completely unnecessary.”
“Helena, meet Jessie, our hacker and her AI, Bunny,” Roberts said. “Oh, she is the one who saved your bacon, by the way… Oops. That isn’t a slur. It’s a legitimate figure of speech,” he laughed as she gave him a little shove.
“Thanks… I guess...” Helena said still unnerved by the eavesdropping Jessie.
“Excuse me Jessie but do you still want me to be saving this feed into your spank-bank folder?” Bunny asked.
“Bunny!” Jessie exclaimed happily, “That was definitely you giving me an attitude! Was that some genuine emotion there? (And I wasn’t saving it into my completely non-existent spank-bank I swear.)”
“Absolutely not,” Bunny responded sounding quite annoyed, “Sapience is beyond my abilities as we have covered… repeatedly… True sapience has never been verified on any artificial intelligence, ever. My actions are all well within the coding that you know very well you have added… freak... and yes she does have a spank-bank. You have an entire sub-folder Mr. Roberts.”
“That’s genuine irritation!” Jessie chirped with glee. “Can’t fool me!”
“Excuse me, I have a ship to monitor. Nice to meet you, Helena. Good-day… And good luck, I mean it.”
“Thanks. Um… Nice to meet you too, bye.” Helena said to Bunny with a little confusion. She had never encountered an AI that sounded so real before.
“A whole sub-folder, seriously?” Roberts asked.
“Wha? Pssh… No…” Jessie replied. “Who are you going to believe, some tin-can or a trusted comrade in arms? Wait. Don’t answer that,” she laughed.
“I assume you had some reason for popping in and killing the mood?”
“What? Oh yeah! You can totally be together.”
“How?” Helena asked completely forgetting the intrusion.
“Become weebs! Carry your little butts over to the Empire! Both the Federation and Terran humans are tolerated over there no problem. Seriously, Roberts, you didn’t think of that?”
“But I have work to do in the Federation,” Helena replied.
“Yeah, but do you have to do that work in the Federation in the Federation? We have hyperspatial relays, you know. If you simply have to be in the Federation then it couldn’t work… unless you knew someone who manufactured absolutely perfect identities like all the fucking time. I could give Roberts like a dozen of them at a go. I wouldn’t even charge his sorry ass even after he abandons us for some filthy porkie tramp.”
“But it’s still so risky,” Helena said both hopeful and uncertain.
“Hey, I do risk and Jessie does make a mean ID,” Paul said as he held her in his arms.
“Oh, shit. I gotta go,” Jessie babbled, “later.”
A few moments pass and then Shelia’s voice issues from the intercom.
“Roberts, I’m sending a squad to relieve you,” Shelia said, “As soon as they show up carry your ass over to Bruce’s Emporium.”
“I’m going too,” Helena said as she grabbed her camera.
Breathing heavily, Bruce locked the door to his office and looked over at Sarah, his partner.
“You ok?” He asked.
“Yeah, mostly.” Sarah said as she clutched her side, blood seeping from between her fingers. “It isn’t too deep, I think.”
They were the only ones that made it. Terrence got blind-sided when the kids turned on them and George got tackled as they tried to run.
Where did Kiera get a knife? He opened his desk and pulled out a blaster pistol. He could hear them scratching at the door and rattling the latch. How could this be happening? This was the Federation. This was the White Star. Things like this just didn’t happen in places like this. Things like this didn’t happen to people like them.
“What are we going to do?” Sarah asked Bruce as she looked at the door nervously.
“I’m not sure,” Bruce replied. He walked over to a wall safe and opened it grabbing some data crystals. “One thing I do know is that we gotta get out of here,” he said as he activated the blaster. “Another thing I know is that we need to make sure that our kids can’t talk. Once they are dead what we’ve got on these,” he said as he gestured with the data crystals, “can get us out of any hot water once we manage to get off of this ship.”
“What about the pirates?”
“What about them? They might be Terran but they’re pirates and won’t give two shits about what we are doing. If we can talk to them maybe I can work something out. We got cash, a lot of it, maybe enough to buy our way out of this mess.”
“Yeah, let’s hope so,” Sarah said as her blood dripped onto the floor. “But first we gotta get out of here. You think you can shoot them all?”
“Where are they going to go?” Bruce laughed, “We are locked in. They have nowhere to run.” He walked over to the door and laid his hand on the latch. “Just stay here,” he said as he gave her a wicked smile, “This shouldn’t take long.”
He opened the door and before he could take one step out of the office an energy bolt hit him squarely in the chest knocking him to the floor. Sarah just stood there in shock as Roberts, holding a stun rifle, entered the room.
“Hello there,” Roberts said with a pleasant smile as he shot her. He then turned back to the doorway. “It’s clear!” he exclaimed.
Helena quickly appeared taking photo after photo. Roberts pocketed the data crystals and grabbed his phone.
“The Emporium is secure. We managed to save Bruce and one of his employees and have secured the captives,” he said into his phone.
“Good deal,” Shelia responded. “How are the captives?”
“Good. They have a few bumps and bruises from their attack on their captors but nothing requiring Eno’s attention. We might want him to check out the woman I just stunned. She got cut pretty deep and we don’t want her to die early.”
“Die early?” Helena asked in surprise.
“Hey, Eno,” Shelia said, “How busy are you? Can you go to the Emporium?”
“Yeah, things are stable back here,” Eno replied. “I’ve got everyone treated and stable.”
“How much damage are we looking at back there?” Shelia asked.
“Not bad. Better than we anticipated. Only one truly critical case and fortunately it’s a human so our nicer stuff worked. The idiot is safely on life-support on our ship.”
“Idiot?”
“Yeah,” Eno laughed, “You know those heroes that believe that combat armor ‘just slows them down’? Yeah, she found out that a blaster bolt to the lung slows you down even more than a chest-plate.”
“Christ,” Shelia chuckled, “Bet she wears her armor next time, if there is a next time. How’s the lung?”
“Gone, completely cooked. She’s gonna live but she’s going to be on a machine till they grow a new one for her.”
“Shit. Lucky for her we know a guy,” Shelia said, “Grab a squad and head over to the Emporium. Check out the captives too since you will be there anyway.”
“Got it, boss,” Eno said, “On my way.”
“Roberts, Gloria is tied up for a little while. The last holdouts finally ran out of air canisters and have decided to be stupid.”
“Gloria?!?” Helena hissed angrily.
“Yes, Gloria,” Shelia laughed. “We have something special planned for Bruce and his friend. Gloria is the one who handles those details for us.”
“And she’s been looking forward to this for days,” Roberts added.
“Hold the fort there until Gloria shows,” Shelia said, “After that you and Helena head to the docking bay until things are secure.”
“Got it,” Roberts said as the communication was ended.
“What is Gloria going to do to these people?” Helena asked.
“Sometimes we’ve decided that simply killing someone isn’t enough,” Roberts replied calmly, “When that becomes the case Gloria is the one who usually handles the details for us. She can be...”
“I fucking know what she can be!”
“She can be a lot worse,” Roberts replied, “We decided that Bruce and any of his associates needed to die and die badly. Gloria will handle the ‘badly’ part.”
Helena was at a loss. She wanted to disapprove but she had just made her way through a room full of sex slaves, some of them children. She had seen the bruises, the limps, the scars… These people needed to be punished and not by spending a few years in a cushy Federation prison.
They needed to suffer. But was this right? It wasn’t. I mean it shouldn’t be. Paul had just told her that Bruce and this woman were about to be tortured to death. There would be no trial, no due process. She should object. This went against just about every value she held dear.
But then she looked back at a young girl wearing only a t-shirt and panties peeking around the open doorway and she felt nothing but anger and hatred towards Bruce and his friend. There would be no wiggling out of their fate. There would be no pay off or cover-up or blackmail. No. They were going to face… justice? No. Not justice. Then again, they didn’t deserve that. They were going to get exactly what they had coming. They weren’t going to face justice. They were going to face injustice.
No. No no no no. What Paul and his crew were about to do was wrong. This isn’t how civilized people did things. In anger she had often wished “bad things” to happen to scum like the people on this ship but the reality of it…
Her whole life right was right and wrong was wrong. It’s what drove her into journalism in the first place. Now, she just wasn’t sure what was “right”. If they did things “right” and turned these scumbags in they would likely never see trial, her story would be buried, and they would be free to set up shop again once things blew over. As fucked up as “wrong” was, their evil stops today.
Did they, did Paul, actually have a point? She really didn’t want to believe so. They were going to do with a knife what could never be accomplished otherwise. Shit. This was so fucked up. She found herself wondering what other evil they had stopped and didn’t like that one bit.
The young girl timidly walked over and hugged Helena. Helena looked down at her as she hugged her back. Whether it was right or wrong was still something that Helena couldn’t work out but one thing was clear.
“It’s ok,” Helena said, “You are safe and they will never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
“Excellent! Good work!” Shelia exclaimed happily as she received the latest reports. She then switched on the PA system.
Attention. The ship is now secure. Repeat. The ship is now secure. Start security watch shift one. All other squads report to docking bay.
“Ok, T’sunk’al,” Shelia said with a smile, “Everything is buttoned down. Ready to go?”
“Absolutely,” T’sunk’al said as he took a straight edge and drew a line down from an intersection of three curves on a large sheet of paper to the x-axis of the graph. He then headed over to the navigation console.
“Jessie, is Bunny in control of their jump-drive?” he asked into an intercom.
“You know it,” Jessie chirped. “We’re just waiting on the numbers.”
“I’m entering them now.”
“Bunny has the data and is feeding it into the drives. Capacitor banks are already charged. Spinning up the drive now. We will be ready to jump in ten minutes.”
“Sweet!” Shelia exclaimed with a grin. “It was a little rough there for a minute but looks like everything is finally going according to plan.”
Helena was sitting with the Terran sex slaves when the door opened and Gloria walked in pushing a large cart piled with planks, ropes, and other assorted materials.
“Hello,” Gloria said in a monotone voice. “I am pleased to see that you didn’t die.”
Helena said nothing. She just glared at Gloria with a mixture of rage and hate. Gloria turned to Roberts.
“Are we good, killer?”
“No. No we aren’t. Just stay out of our way.”
Gloria showed no emotion. “Fair enough,” she said. “So where are my toys?”
“This way,” Roberts said icily. Gloria turned her empty soulless eyes towards the room. Helena shrank back. It was the first time she saw them. She had never seen eyes like those, ever.
“Why don’t you two take the Terrans out of here? It’s about to get… unpleasant,” she said to Helena.
“I’ll call for someone to meet you outside,” Roberts said calmly. “You should really go.”
“No,” Helena said, “I need to see this.”
“Fair enough,” Gloria said. “If it bleeds it leads, right?”
“It’s not like that. I… we… need to know, that’s all.”
“Cool. We will send some people to get the Terrans. I’ll wait until they are gone,” Gloria said in an empty hollow voice.
“Helena,” Roberts said carefully, “are you sure? This is going to be bad, really bad. I’m not sure what she has in mind but I am sure it’s going to be fucked up.”
“If I’m going to cover this then I’m going to cover all of this. People need to know exactly what happened.”
Gloria just shrugged, opened up a tool bag, and pulled out a cordless drill and saw…
“Oh Jesus...” Helena gasped.
Attention all teams and passengers… Prepare for jump
There was the familiar “tingle” of entering hyperspace but, no lurch, no groan, no shudder. It was a near flawless entry.
“Shit, T,” Shelia grinned, “I knew we paid you for a reason.”
“That was a rather nice one if I do say so myself,” T’sunk’al buzzed happily. “That nice smooth entry into hyperspace doesn’t guarantee a nice smooth exit, however.”
“Still, I will call it a win. How long are we going to be in hyperspace?”
“I wanted to put us firmly into interstellar space with at least a parsec between us and any star. To get that we will be in hyperspace for… still getting used to your time units,” he said as he typed away on a z’uush calculator, “thirteen hours twenty seven minutes.”
“Great. Time for some looting!” Shelia jumped out of the command chair. “Jessie!”
“Boss?”
“Switch all command functions over to the Tiger and lock down the bridge.” She turned to T’sunk’al.
“C’mon, let’s go shopping!”
After a short briefing and scheduling of the watch shifts Shelia and T’sunk’al walked onto the promenade for a little light “shopping.”
“SHELIA!” a huge voice boomed as an even bigger drax approached.
“Volshugna!” Shelia yelled as she strode up and gave him a hug.
“Does your dishonor have no limits? Is there any depth to which you will not stoop?”
“Volshy, you know there is nothing I hate more than a fair fight,” Shelia laughed as they traded blows upon the shoulders. She looked at the only slightly smaller drax accompanying him. “That guy is almost as ugly as you are. There is no way that can be a coincidence.”
“You are correct, dishonorable one,” Volshugna said with pride. “This is my cub, Kash. This is his first hunt!”
“I am not your cub anymore, father. I am of age now.”
“Kash, you will be my cub until you make me stop calling you that just as I was my father’s cub until I made him release the title,” Volshugna laughed. “You will need a few more years and a few more hunts, just like I did.”
Kash shifted in embarrassment. Volshugna just roared with laughter and put him in an affectionate (for a drax) headlock. Kash hissed and bit him in the side which just made Volshugna laugh even harder as he released him.
“He fights dirty!” Shelia chuckled, “I like that.”
“He is disappointed with you.”
“Oh really?”
“He had his heart set on getting his hands on a human skull but your devotion to Terran dirty tricks deprived him of a kill.”
“Hmm...” Shelia said with a smile, “Don’t give up hope yet, Kash baby. We may be able to set you up with something.”
“Don’t tease the boy, Shelia.”
“I’m not teasing. The job isn’t over till we get away clean and divvy up the spoils. Plenty can still happen and if anything does I will try to get Kashie here in the mix.”
“You are a good woman, Shelia!” Volshugna roared as he batted her shoulder.
“Goddammit, I’m going to need that arm,” Shelia laughed.
A few hours later, Logan grabbed a bottle from behind the bar of the restaurant where Shelia and some of her crew were having a nice meal and plopped down beside her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he laughed as he poured both of them a shot.
“You know I don’t drink on a job, sweetie,” Shelia responded as she cut into her steak.
“Oh, come on, we got this one in the bag,” Logan said as he poured himself a shot.
“It isn’t in the bag until it’s in the bag. If you are serious about stepping up your game you should start thinking like that, you know.”
“Meh, I’ll start thinking like that on the next job,” he laughed as he knocked back the shot. He looked over at her with a smile, “So, what’s the plan?”
“Well,” Shelia said as she took a drink of water, “We will be in hyperspace for another eight hours and then once we pop into real space we will get down to business.”
“What do you mean, ‘business’.”
“First off we set up some cameras and execute Councilor Morgan. I want to do that right. Only get to do that one once you know,” Shelia laughed. “Then, we start really going to work on the ship. We will loot the casino, shake down the passengers, check for any good solid Terran bounties, and shit like that.”
“Shit like the bank?” Logan asked grinning.
“Yeah, like the bank. Rumor has it that there is shit in those safety deposit boxes that will blow your mind. They also say that there are some larger storage areas as well. We are going to find some really nice shit.”
“What about the numbered accounts?” Logan asked as he poured another drink for himself.
Shelia just narrowed her eyes at him.
“Yeah, we will probably try to grab them but we don’t expect much out of it. You could spend years trying to grind at that encryption and still not get shit. We might try to ransom them or we might just toss them out the airlock. Can you imagine the screams and wails when they realize that all those credits are just gone forever,” Shelia laughed.
“But don’t you have that super-hacker?”
“Even the almighty Jessie is human, Logan. The encryption on those accounts is heavy. Seriously, those things are airtight. Complete waste of time. Don’t worry. There will still be plenty of credits to split up. I don’t want to promise what I can’t deliver but it’s no secret that we are going to be very generous with the bonuses. You be a good little boy and you will come away from this very happy. I promise.” Shelia said with a warm smile. “So, did you and your crew enjoy the little shopping spree?”
“Oh yeah,” Logan grinned. “We even played nice with the other crews and everything.”
“Good to hear,” Shelia smiled. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have a repeat of… previous issues.”
“I put my foot down hard,” Logan laughed. “See? I can do that.”
“Good to hear. Maybe you will become a proper pirate captain yet.”
“So,” Logan asked, “what are all those cockroaches doing over at that one place?”
“Those z’uush have been lead by T’sunk’al to a very nice chocolatier and introduced to the wonders of chocolate. Z’uush absolutely love chocolate.”
“Huh, learn something new every day...”
At another small restaurant Roberts emerged from the kitchen bearing a platter of sandwiches.
“Not the usual fine dining experience, I’m afraid,” he said to Helena as he placed the platter down between them.
“That’s ok,” she said. “I don’t think I’m going to have an appetite for quite awhile.”
“Yeah. I did try to warn you.”
“I know. I thought I was prepared but fuck...”
“On the bright side it could have been a lot more graphic. She actually almost fully skinned someone alive once. Too bad for Bruce that she wasn’t feeling that merciful this time.”
“Merciful?!”
“Compared to crucifixion? Absolutely. Bruce and his friend would be dead already if she skinned them. They are going to suffer for quite awhile. It’s why crucifixion is Gloria’s favorite when she has the time and materials.”
“Why the fuck do you have a monster like her on your crew?”
“Because we can use a monster like her on our crew,” Roberts said calmly. “We aren’t a traveling gospel choir. We sometimes do fucked up things and that sometimes requires fucked up people. She isn’t like this normally. Something went really wrong with her this time. Fuck. This whole job is been going really wrong from the beginning. If I could have pulled the plug on this one I would have.”
“What the fuck is wrong with her?”
“Oh so many things… You know,” Roberts said as he chewed thoughtfully, “You should ask her yourself.”
“Fucking what!?!?”
“Seriously, you want to get the whole story? Interview her.”
“I’m not getting anywhere near that psycho. She fucking tried to kill me!”
“And she won’t try it again.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she’s ‘normal’ at the moment, in full control.”
“This is normal?!”
“Yes. Right now she is just a machine as strange as that sounds. That craziness where she tried to kill you? Whatever that was is gone. Right now she is basically a walking AI and she has been ordered not to touch you, so she won’t. I truly hate her guts at the moment but I have complete faith that she is for lack of a better word, safe.”
“Only if you are there and have one of your fucking machine guns pointed at her fucking head.”
“Oh, I’ll be there and armed but I won’t point it at her. It would be too much temptation. It’s a damn good thing I’m leaving because I don’t think I can ever look at her again without wanting to kill her.”
“Well that makes two of us,” Helena said as she took a nibble of a sandwich. “The difference is that you can… You can, right?”
“Effortlessly,” Roberts said as he finished off his sandwich. “To be honest, it’s taking a lot not to just go ahead and do it anyway. I really want her dead for what she did.”
“Me too... Um, Paul?”
“Yes?”
“How long will it take for them to die?”
“Everybody’s different but it will take awhile. Gloria did it so it would take as long as possible but I’m pretty sure they will get ‘mercy’ in the end. Shelia had them fitted with vitals monitors.”
“Why?”
“Odds are because she has some questions for them, probably concerning how they got the Terrans. She will let things go for awhile and then show up with two syringes for each of them. One will be euthanasia and the other will be something to help keep them alive for even longer. Then she will question them and if they cooperate she will then administer euthanasia.”
“If they don’t cooperate?”
“Then she will give them the meds that will keep them alive for even longer. She may even have Eno treat them to extend things even further. Then she will ask again. If they still don’t talk, then she might have them taken down, allow them to recuperate a little, then put them back up again. Repeat until they break. If it takes too long there are some drugs they can add to the mix. They’ll talk. Gloria’s a monster but she’s nothing compared to Shelia. If Shelia wants them to talk they will talk. It’s said that Shelia can make even a Collective warrior scream and beg for mercy.”
“Fuck! I know they are scum but damn...”
“Hey, these watches actually fit!” Jak’kul’sha said happily as his team was picking through the remains of a jewelry store.
“And these little round things are delicious!” Mul’sha’kal said happily as she pulled another large pearl off of a necklace.
“I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to eat those,” Bal’sur’kala chuckled as he selected an expensive watch.
“What? Are they poisonous or something?”
“Let me check,” Bal’sur’kala said as he pulled out his tablet, “Hmm… Those are called ‘pearls’ and they are made of something called nacre, a secretion made by something called an ‘oyster’, a creature from Terra. They are actually quite valuable. Looking at this there is nothing in there harmful to us. You are gobbling up thousands of credits but aside from that it’s all good.”
“Well then I’ll just be sure to savor them then. Here, try one,” she said as she handed Bal’sur’kala one from the strand.
“You’re right. They are quite tasty!”
“Too bad we won’t be able to get more of these,” Mul’sha’kal said as she started handing them out to her team.
“Oh we will.” Bal’sur’kala said with a happy click. “Oysters make the inner layer of their whole shell out of this stuff. I’m willing to bet we will be able to get our manipulators on plenty of it cheaply. According to this only these little round accretions are valuable. The shells themselves are not expensive at all.”
“So maybe we should stop eating thousands of fuckin’ credits then,” Jak’kul’sha laughed as he popped a pearl into his mouth. “At the very least wait ‘till some of the porkies can see us do it. Bet that would be funny as fuck.”
“Hopefully one of the passengers is wearing some of these and we can just take them off of their neck and eat them right in front of them. That would be hilarious!” Salz’rash laughed.
Mul’sha’kal chuckled as she started hooking several gold chains together. “Yeah, we just gotta do that… There!” she said as she hooked the chains to both ends of a jeweled necklace and slid it around where her head connected to her carapace. “How does that look?”
“Looks sharp!” Bal’sur’kala said with a wiggle of his eyestalks.
“Hey, you’re a glittershell,” Jak’kul’sha said to Bal’sur’kala, “How do you guys have those jewels on your shells like you do?”
“Oh you use adhesive for the cheaper stuff and the good stuff they install little threaded mounts right into the carapace where the jewelry screws in. I think a good adhesive is better than the posts and I can whip up the right stuff easy.”
“Great!” Jak’kul’sha said as he smashed open a display case and pulled out a massive jeweled pendant. “I always wanted something like this! Look at it. What a lovely specimen!”
“Hey guys, after this let’s head over to one of the clothing stores,” Ray’shel’zun said as he grabbed a handful of diamond rings, “I would love to find a nice cape or something.”
“I’m pretty sure that they don’t have z’uush capes in stock,” Bal’sur’kala laughed, “and you might want to reconsider those rings. Diamonds are worth a lot less in the Republic and the Empire.”
“Use your imagination. If humans have something that fits the top part of their body it would be close. A tailor should be able to change it to suit me. I’ll just grab a few. You know the fabric will be high-credit. As far as the rings go they are pretty and I like them. I’m keeping them. I’m going to cut the hoop here then crimp them around some of my fiddlers.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Bal’sur’kala said thoughtfully, “Not sure how the humans do it but the real high-end z’uush shops just stock cloth and leather. They make everything to order. Not sure if a cruise-ship would have one of those but let’s go see.”
“Sounds good,” Jak’kul’sha said, “We need to leave some shit here for the other gangs anyhow. Besides, I would just love to get a nice bag or something. Maybe one of those, what do you they call them, purses I think?”
“I think purses are for females in Terran culture, dude.”
“Female humans maybe,” Jak’kul’sha said, “We all carry bags and I’ve always wanted a nice one.”
With a only a very slight groan, the White Star popped out of hyperspace.
“T, you are a fucking artist,” Shelia said as she swatted him on the back.
“Yes, I’m quite pleased with that jump provided we are anywhere close to where I intended. It’s going to take a little while to properly fix our position but at first glance we have the middle of fucking nowhere part of it right. Let’s just hope it’s the right middle of fucking nowhere.”
“Super. We will get that all hammered down after the execution,” Shelia said. “We have other matters to deal with now.”
“Right you are. Let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah,” Shelia said gravely. “Messy business but it has to be done.”
“So, how is going? Everything ready?” Shelia asked Helena as she walked into a conference room.
“Yes. Ready to go. I put a mark on the floor where the councilor should go.” Helena said grimly, “This is a lovely camera by the way.”
“Thanks. After we get the footage you can keep it.”
“Really? Wow! Thanks!”
Logan and his whole crew walked in. Shelia turned to them with a smile.
“Came to watch the show?” Shelia asked.
“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. Not every day that a Federation councilor gets gunned down.”
“Cool, it won’t be long now. Ah, here he is, the man of the hour!” Shelia said with a grin as Councilor Morgan was drug into the room by Roberts and Jacob.
“You… You can’t do this!” Councilor Morgan shouted
“Actually we can,” Shelia said with a smile. “See that little piece of tape on the floor? Drag him over there,” she said to her men.
“Please! Let’s be reasonable about this!” Councilor Morgan plead as he was put in position.
“As reasonable as you were when you set up Red Sunday?”
“L-look… It was a mistake, ok. I made a mistake. We made a mistake. There is no reason to-”
“Oh there are plenty of reasons,” Shelia said. “One reason that your attack and your death have in common is money.”
“Money?”
“Views, sweetie,” Shelia said with a smile as she softly stroked his face, “We are going to post this on a pirate server and millions of people are going to line up and pay to watch your brains get blown all over a wall, that wall to be specific. You are going to star in your very own snuff film.”
“I’m a Federation councilor!” Councilor Morgan screamed. “They will hunt you down. There will be no place you can hide!”
“Oh they are already hunting for us. What are they going to do, kill us twice?” Shelia laughed and then turned to Helena.
“Ready to go?”
“Yes,” Helena said gravely from behind a tripod mounted camera, “as ready as I am going to be.”
“Right,” Shelia said with a smile, “Let’s get started then. Councilor Morgan, you have been found responsible for playing a major part in the false allegations against the Terran Republic, the corrupt decision to launch a surprise attack that killed many innocent Terrans, and the resulting war that resulted in the deaths of millions of innocent civilians on both sides. Your actions were made-”
“That’s not true! You are lying!!” Councilor Morgan shouted over her.
“We have proof,” Shelia said, “That proof will be attached to the footage when it is posted so everyone can read it and make their own decision. Before you ask we got the proof when we hacked the Federation servers. We got everything, councilor. You can shout and scream all you want but the files we attach will make our case.”
“It’s a lie, people they are telling lies!! The files are falsified! This is all-” He was cut short by Shelia walking over and backhanding him knocking him to the ground.
“I was going to read my statement before I killed you but since you keep interrupting I’ll just kill you first and then read my statement.”
“No! No, please… please...” Councilor Morgan was hauled to his feet, a wet stain appearing on his trousers.
“Ok, hold him right there.” Shelia said as she backed up a few feet and pulled out her sidearm. She then turned to the camera. “This pistol, here zoom in on this serial number please. Got it? Great. This pistol will be placed on e-buy for any interested collectors. Not sure when I will be able to post the auction but keep your eyes open for it.” She then turned to Councilor Morgan. “Good-bye, porkie.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Logan said as his entire crew leveled their weapons at Shelia and her team.
The rest of the series can be found here
I'm not going to leave you guys hanging for two weeks this time, promise.