《Mana Pool Snippets - The Job》 Part 1 Did you know that the Kytalthan, the living water sprites of Kyta who volunteered in the drought effort on Vi recently, were the last species to participate in First Contact rituals? No? Look it up. If however you lived over seven hundred years ago, in person or livestream, call me. I need interviews. I was making history a month ago. History I tell you. I have been an investigative reporter for most of my life, but I never imagined that I¡¯d be staring at the planet from the way station¡¯s common room. This was not the usual simple story for the RNN; corporation corruption, mob scandals, military conspiracy, or drug lords of the slums of the Republic. This was history. Real. Honest. History. The kind of history that puts the Republic itself against the cliff¡¯s edge. The last time that happened were the Goomash Raids, but that was a small scratch compared to this open, infected wound of a problem. ¡°What am I doing here?¡± I whispered. ¡°You say something, Zimmi?¡± Ketho asked and I jumped in my seat. ¡°Oh, uh, nothing. Talking to myself.¡± I laughed but my nervousness made me squeak. ¡°Smooth,¡± I whispered again. In the window, was Terra Firma, the Red-Flagged homeworld of humans, a world under the Primitive Culture Protection Act. One of those planets, but this is the planet. They weaponized nuclear technology and turn blood-thirsty when seen by ones not their kind. Soulless, genocidal monsters. The way station that two Royal Navy guards and I rode in quaked for a second, metal ground against metal. I yelled and gripped onto something hard. Over Terran Firma, a Royal Navy battlecruiser passed over us as the tow cable retracted back into the hull. The lead guard Ketho, coughed and I got my attention. My hand grasped the Dunac rifle-woman¡¯s arm in a vice, by the look of her half-closed eyes, the female cyborg wasn¡¯t amused. ¡°My bad,¡± I said smiling and letting go, ¡°not used to traveling outside Creos or Zimana.¡± She scuffed and said, ¡°Pansy,¡± right in my face. I looked back at the battlecruiser, the ship aimed six massive plasma cannons from under its hull down at the planet. ¡°What the?¡± Three more battle cruisers were behind the first in similar battle-ready actions. Enough fire power like that could decimate a small city. For Terra Firma¡¯s reputation, safety and security was important, there was no sense of questioning it. ¡°Wait a second,¡± I said blinking, noticing several gold objects descending from out in the dark space. I unbuckled myself from my seat and leaned my face centimeters from the glass. ¡°Your eyes ain¡¯t tricking you, Zimmi,¡± Ketho said. Are you kidding me? Gold spires were stationed at high orbit. ¡°Are those¡­Titan Spires?¡± I asked. ¡°The very same,¡± Ketho answered. ¡°But¡­surely, that much fire power? Is that a little excessive from the Royal Navy?¡± My throat felt dry all of a sudden. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do this with those spires over my head. I don¡¯t want to end up like compost for human feasts.¡± No response came from Ketho, her hard eyes staring out at the spires. The second guard, a young Creosain boy named Tigap, fresh from training, appeared the same as me, save for his head quills rubbing each other in nervousness. Since entering Slipspace, he had played with a ring on the floor using one of his three legs, never talking. Why had Denverbay sent a fresh recruit and a seasoned warrior with me? Titan Spires were meant to level a playing field.¡ªone spires, not several. When it comes to the Primitive Culture Protection Act, and Red Flagged planets, serious precautions were never ignored; the proof was Terra Firma, sitting surrounded by the Galactic Council¡¯s collective might. What have I gotten myself into? The lights flickered on in the common area. Across the room next to the teleport pad was my three piece luggage. I don¡¯t travel much as my baggage was excessive in comparison to a single duffle bag that each guard brought. ¡°Orbit achieved,¡± the station¡¯s manager said in a snarling voice. ¡°Coordinates for teleportation locked. Be ready on the platform in three minutes, people.¡± ¡°Wait what?¡± I asked. ¡°Got it,¡± Ketho said. ¡°Let¡¯s go, I want this done with no issues. Tigap, double check that your weapon is loaded. No lollygagging.¡± Tigap nodded while they unbuckled. ¡°Wait. Three minutes? No, no, no. It can¡¯t be three minutes. My nanites are not ready. I could get sick by alien air. Also, I was told the interview were happing here. Porting from the surface. You know, where things are safe!¡± My voice was filled with panic. ¡°Oh would you stop with the constant nagging, Zimmi, having a little allergy is good for your immune system. Gain some natural immunity, writer.¡± She had the nerve to punch me in the shoulder, my thin sandals nearly hooked themselves to the grated floor. Ketho had been like that the moment I had met her, I wasn¡¯t sure she hated my species, or writers, or if her cyborg augments were short circuiting. Maybe her eye scope had sparked a brain cell. I was wearing my father¡¯s suit, it would be ripped and I wasn¡¯t sure if I could handle that on top of all the pressure. Tigap set our bags on the teleport platform and was done before I realized it. It was going to be a long five days. Ketho pulled me away from the window with a firm grasp on my wrist using her real arm. ¡°Two things, Zimmi. Your universal translator. Terra Firma does not have UT nodes anywhere so keep it charged and on you at all times.¡± I have used personal universal translators before; I nodded. She put mine on and activated it while I wondered how humans talked normally. Ketho then strapped a metal wristband to my right wrist. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked. ¡°We have to blend in with the humans when required. Tigap and I will have ours. Unfortunately for you being a stick in my mud and Denverbay¡¯s, turning it on won¡¯t be needed.¡± ¡°Are you serious?¡± ¡°Serious as being raging mad about this mission, yes.¡± Oh no. ¡°Brought any weapons with you?¡± She asked. ¡°Uh¡­just the plasma pistol you gave me.¡± I showed her the holster strapped to my thigh. ¡°Good. Keep it close, clean and primed. We don¡¯t know what humans cooked up since the incident. If there is anything, we¡¯ll teleport out.¡± ¡°But that will disobey The Hammer¡¯s orders.¡± ¡°I¡¯m all for safety, or mine and Tigap¡¯s.¡± The job sounded all the more real the more Ketho spoke and I felt woody. Father, if you could have seen me, I could really use some support. Ketho was satisfied with her briefing and pushed me, literally, onto the platform. The transporter required DNA verification. My DNA was added¡ªa scale from my hand¡ªbefore we left Creos¡¯ orbiting supply district to verify who is being teleported. Three go down, three go up, and anybody else was incinerated. ¡°Transport in five seconds. Good luck down there,¡± the station¡¯s manager said. ¡°Five seconds?¡± I screamed. The teleporter gained power and light below my shoes. ¡°Tigap, keep your weapon close. Head up and awareness high. This is your first primitive culture and I don¡¯t want any shaky trigger fingers on my watch. Any sign of threat, just inform manager to beam you off. Sound off,¡± Ketho said. ¡°Aye,¡± Tigap said with a hint of fear, yet she favors him than me? Does this Dunac know who my father was? The two activated their DNA masks, I closed my eyes as they finished; I was too scared. The machine whirred and shuttered under my feet and a white glow bled through my eyelids. Would the humans accept me? Reject me? Is this the end of my father¡¯s legacy? Ketho heard me whimper. ¡°Always a wimp,¡± she muttered. I am not a wimp. ¡°Shut,¡­¡° My words were cut off. I hate traveling in general. I¡¯m happy with a robotic clone doing the traveling while I stay home, drink tea, and remote cast to my interviewee. Normally I only travel to Creos by commuter vessel, and even then a delay puts me in a panic. Denverbay forbid me from using a robot for this job. Did he realize the pressure I was under? The air in my lungs disappeared and my body felt like nothing. I hate the break-up feeling of teleportation. I sucked in air, but kept my eyes shut.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Wait. This is not air I knew. It was alien air. The smells were wholly different; a sweet note with earthy tones. I live with giant mushrooms and spent time smelling Creos¡¯ trees and flowers and foods, but this sure was different. The wind died and sounds of chirps, engines, and wind blowing leaves like nature¡¯s applause, welcomed me, I hoped. ¡°Clear,¡± said Ketho. ¡°Clear,¡± said Tigap. ¡°Scope for long-range enemy surveillance. I¡¯ll stay with the wimp.¡± ¡°On it. Um, sir? Who are they?¡± ¡°Hey! You two, or four, you the contacts Denverbay said?¡± ¡°Y-Yes, we are. Glad you could come,¡± a woman spoke. I imagined it was a human woman. Oh Javo, those were human voices! ¡°Say your names!¡± Ketho demanded. ¡°Shit uh¡­Katie. Katie Walsh.¡± ¡°Scott Dunne and put that gun down!¡± Ketho¡¯s gun clicked off. ¡°Good. Hey, writer. Open your damn eyes, its safe.¡± Seriously, that woman¡­ But I did open them, and I was captivated. The sunset was in the west and clouds of orange brushed the sky and horizon. It was a nice sight, I dare say, to see before I got killed. Around me were rows upon rows of leafless vine plants tied to wire held by steel posts. Each pole had a lightbulb on top in a glass jar, and by some form of magic, they lit up all at once. There were more rows with similar lights, but the farther rows did not have them. I can recount that the winery used those lights as their marker. In the distance I could see human houses across the valley, some lit. I blinked as I tried to recall Denverbay¡¯s explanations, but I was among those who detested how cryptic he is when he talks. I did remember now thing he mentioned; the planet had been attacked by crystals, and I could see them littering the land. Amethyst crystals, ranging in size with some small as balls and others tall as personal ships. A much taller one was near a mountain, making that I had been told had been the city¡¯s only casino at one point. ¡°Cosmos to writer!¡± Ketho yelled. I jumped and turned, startled. I had forgotten that my guards had activated their DNA masks. Ketho appeared as a dark skinned human woman wearing the same tight military uniform as her old form, there were no signs of her prosthetic left arm or legs, or even her visor. Tigap appeared as a young man, and by human age standards, was in his mid-twenties with a stubby beard, brown hair, and by his former Creosian tripodic body, less muscular. Both kept their weapons up, still looking out for me, yet Tigap was admiring the DNA mask¡¯s work. I noticed where the new voices were coming from, they were a meter from me and when I saw them my jaw dropped. I had heard about human mutants from Denverbay¡¯s descriptions. They were called Terrans. They were simple enough to pick out with their elf like ears, animal companions called totems, and their augmented under skin armor on their forearms, legs and tails. The young woman wore a black tank top and blue pants, with short brown hair, a bird was perched on her shoulder. A man and his canine companion beside her wore a red shirt and black shorts with a caring smirk on his face, with his right hand on the woman¡¯s shoulder. The canine had a dopy grin. They walked up to me and I tensed up. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, were friendly,¡± the woman said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m Katie Walsh. And this is my boyfriend, Scott. Welcome.¡± Their voices were not threatening in the least. Denverbay had told me that terrans were humans that had been changed by the crystals. I had been sent to investigate how and why they had been changed. I could not treat them as strangers: that would have been detrimental to my cause. I nodded a little. ¡°G-Good to¡­meet you,¡± I said, sounding jittery. The woman offered her hand, and I knew to shake it. One touch, and I felt it. Power. Raw magical energy coursing through her nerves. Meeting a primitive culture, a first for me. Meeting a newly formed hybrid species, game changing.
It was a short walk from the teleport site to Katie¡¯s family¡¯s house. We walked side by side as my guards kept searching for threats. I felt like treasure being escorted into enemy territory, but my curiosity was firing off like well-choreographed rituals. ¡°So what is this place called, Ms. Walsh?¡± I asked. ¡°This is my family¡¯s winery,¡± Katie said. ¡°A winery?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a place to make wine. Fermented grape juice.¡± ¡°Oh, another species in the fermented arts. When my nanites are ready to process foreign foods, I¡¯ll definitely try some.¡± Ketho must have thought that I was about to off myself with the local delicacies, but I am an alcohol enthusiast, it tends to be the only place where there is a level playing field across cultures. From my notes, the Walsh estate is an Italian/Spanish-style country house with a covered porch wrapping half of the building. Flowers line the bottom of the house, my notes called them roses. All the wine was processed in two warehouses adjacent to the estate. One of the warehouses held the store and large patio for parties and gatherings that the Estate hosted every time; the annual New Year¡¯s Eve party was coming up. My inspection of the architecture was cut short by Ketho¡¯s barking. ¡°You four, don¡¯t move,¡± she said charging her gun. ¡°State your names and affiliation, and don¡¯t you dare murder us!¡± The four people stood on the porch, startled by Ketho. There were two men, one woman, and a young boy, all human, but they weren¡¯t blood thirsty monsters out for my heart. They seemed normal, no sign of genocidal rage. I had forgotten where that gun Ketho gave me was, but somehow, I did not need it. The little boy screamed and ran inside the house. The other three shuddered but stood their ground. ¡°Hey, stop that, we¡¯re friendly!¡± Said the older man. ¡°It¡¯s alright, they¡¯re my family,¡± Katie said. ¡°Please don¡¯t scare them, I¡¯m still working out their nerves with aliens.¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing my job,¡± Ketho said. ¡°How would I know they won¡¯t kill and eat us!?¡± ¡°You¡¯re being rude, that¡¯s what, and that¡¯s crazy. Please, lower your guns.¡± Their rifles were pointed directly at the older male human. Ketho followed after a few seconds of assurance, and restrained herself. She sighed and said, ¡°Better not be an act or this mission is over.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Just like Jaruka,¡± the man said with a sneer. As I introduced myself, still shaking from nervousness, shaking hands with the humans did not bring the same magical surge as the terrans. Katie¡¯s father was Jonathan Walsh, the lead winemaker of the estate, and was almost into his senior years. Katie¡¯s mother was Brenda Walsh, the business¡¯ marketing and store manager. I instantly picked out some of Katie¡¯s similarities. The younger man with black hair and wearing mostly black was their oldest son, Robert. He watched me carefully until we shook hands. ¡°At least you¡¯re not like Jaruka,¡± he said. ¡°I hope.¡± ¡°Yes, about him,¡± I started. ¡°Is he here too? He¡¯ll be interviewed as well.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not here. Dad banned him,¡± Katie answered before Jonathan. ¡°Oh? For what?¡± I assumed that Jaruka had been banned because typically, Halcunacs have temper issues. Cup that with their magic and it¡¯s a mix nobody wants to be stuck in. ¡°He¡¯s first on my list to interview tomorrow. But if he¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. We¡¯ll get him,¡± Scott said. ¡°Oh, uh¡­thanks.¡± Awkward. It wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t want to interview the terran couple, believe me, but I felt more comfortable interviewing someone whose species I was familiar with. I want to distance myself from the terrans magical really, I could feel their fluctuations. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come inside, Xi¡¯Tra? We have a room for you to use,¡± Katie said. ¡°Uh¡­su¡­wait, but I heard that Jaruka has a ship?¡± ¡°About that.¡± She shook her head. ¡°This is better. Way better.¡± ¡°We haven¡¯t spoken since he moved sites, and haven¡¯t seen the ship since, but we still know he haven¡¯t left it for a while,¡± Scott said. ¡°Is Mr. Teal okay?¡± Scott shrugged. Ketho hummed. ¡°We need to scout the house.¡± Brenda disagreed, but Jonathan said, ¡°it¡¯s fine. My home is safe but your weapons are not allowed inside. I don¡¯t need another alien smashing furniture again.¡± ¡°But our guidelines¡­¡± ¡°I mean it. You three are guests, not bullies thinking you¡¯re above my family. You scared Jacob enough.¡± That squabble was enough for Ketho and Tigap to agree. I had no issue, I gave my weapon back to the cyborg and they placed them under an energy shield on the porch. They entered the house and immediately secured the area. Scott and Katie offered dinner to and Ketho reminded me of my thirty-hour nanites acclimation to the world. Some species can tolerate a multitude of foods without immunity nanites, but I am not one of them. I have issues with crunchy and rubbery foods and had brought my own foods and snacks to hold me over. I still hate traveling. Oh, and I was entering a human home, a sacrilege against First Contact. The guards told me that it was clear, and after a few screams upstairs of ¡°Get out!¡± from Jacob, I entered. I trusted Ketho. I¡¯m still alive if you were wondering. The terrans totems stayed downstairs. The animals had been new with the Wave, all the research had gone into documented medical practice, perhaps that would be a good lead. My room was upstairs and I entered to find a quaint and tidy bedroom, with a large bed, desk, a shaded window, and a musky smell. Oh, Javo, the smells of Terra Firma. I forgot to mention, I thought I smelled dinner, it was something called pot roast and salad. ¡°This is Scott¡¯s room and guest room, but you¡¯re welcome to use it,¡± Katie said. ¡°My room is right across and we¡¯ll both be in it. Feel free to talk to us anytime.¡± I set my bags down on the bed. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°It is¡­may I say something?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Scott said.¡± I could not stop rubbing my hands. ¡°It¡¯s shocking how much hospitality you¡¯re offering.¡± ¡°I think waking up in an alien medic ward on a spaceship changes perspectives, or those Spires want us on your best behavior. Who knows?¡± Scott shrugged. ¡°So how will these interviews be done?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s quite simple. It¡¯s a witness per day from now to¡­what was the event called again?¡± ¡°The Wave.¡± ¡°Right. The Wave. I¡¯ll explain the process tomorrow. Still need to settle that I¡¯m in a human home.¡± I laughed. I was talking casually to them and it felt strange. I hoped that the laugh came out non-nervously. ¡°But how exactly? I mean, I know journalists here have tape recorders, camcorders, and smartphones. What do aliens have?¡± Katie¡¯s curious off the bat, I think I like her. ¡°Memory recordings,¡± I said. ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°Just what I said. I use hybrid technology on loan to record the memories as I ask questions.¡± ¡°That sounds¡­dangerous,¡± Scott said, eyes pointing at Katie. I assured them that the process would not pick up random thoughts, at least that was what I assumed, and they sighed. Javo. ¡°Is there anything else?¡± Scott asked. I thought for a minute, and then said no. As the couple left, Ketho closed my door and guarded it. That was the point that I collapsed to the floor and slumped against the plush bed. I¡¯m on an alien world, without First Contact, in a human house, in a human room, given so much love from complete aliens, all for a Republic job. Everything was beautiful. So beautiful. I laid there sobbing for hours, but was careful not to alert Ketho and her cybernetic hearing. What am I doing here? Why did The Hammer choose me? I came back to my senses a few hours later. The house was quiet and outside the stars were bright and the valley was lit with city lights. A Wave crystal flickered with purple light. I think it was remnant energy, but I will ask for confirmation. Something else caught my attention: a Creosian glyph painted on the window with mud. It meant ¡°courage in darkness,¡± a symbol of pride for all young Creosians in a time of sorrow. Tigap must¡¯ve placed it when I wasn¡¯t watching, or maybe he had seen me on the floor. He must¡¯ve felt sorry for me, or thought that I gave up without doing my job. My father came to mind. What would he say? ¡°I have to do this,¡± I said to myself. ¡°I must make him proud.¡± I unpacked most of my things into the empty dresser while eating a high-protein grain cake from my homeworld. I had to idea how to use the hangers in the closet. The attached bathroom looked nice and clean, and thank goodness it functioned like any other bathroom is this weird universal language of personal hygiene. I tried not to stare at the water knobs; neck universal translators don¡¯t work well with written letters. My work bag was unpacked on the single table but I found a pamphlet Denverbay gave me about Terra Firma, it was filled with negative propaganda on humans. Not helpful. Humans and a lot of species have beds, but I prefer hammocks. Hopefully the mutants and humans wouldn¡¯t mind the two holes in the ceiling for my travel hammock. I undressed from my suit and folded it neatly on the bed, leaving me and my reptilian body bare to the world. I can tell you are getting worried that I¡¯m not protected or have a weapon close to me, but Ketho was still at the door, and I knew a few offense spells, if my reflexes weren¡¯t relaxed. In the hammock I used the blankets and they were quite soft actually. Even when I travel, I couldn¡¯t go anywhere without my father¡¯s picture beside me on the nightstand. To the human readers, and I now understand your pop-culture and mythology love, Zimmi are anthro-like dragons. We have no tails or talons or extra leg joints. Sorry, no wings. Just a bit of a snout, webbed ears, and hair only on our heads. The rest is scales, where personal uniqueness shows. My father, the original Xi¡¯Tra Zader Khu, and I share the same characteristics; red hair, green eyes, and varied green, yellow, and blue scales. In the metal-framed photograph, he wore his favorite suit¡ªthe suit I inherited¡ªin front of RNN¡¯s headquarters. I wear it because it gives me courage, and his reputation was no exception. ¡°I¡¯ll make you proud. I promise.¡± Part 2 Twenty paper notebooks. Check. My father¡¯s functioning voice recorder. Check. Memory recording device from the Archives. Check. Handful of pens. Check. Plenty of pure water for me and guest. Check. I was sure that I had everything. Things looked good that next morning, I smiled without worry for the first time since arriving. I had a job to do, and I take my interviews seriously. It was an hour later that I began to worry that Jaruka had not shown up and Ketho and Mr. Dunne went out to find him. I understood that he lived at a site in a dropship of some sort. I waited for another hour, staring at the door, and eating my remaining protein cakes. I wished I had some fruits or root veggies, but customs is stringent these days. Terra Firma wine interested me still, but I had five hours left for my nanites to settle in my system. Waiting never agrees with me. Half an hour passed by. What¡¯s taking them so long? My run-ins with Halcunacs have become less and less frequent in the past decade. You¡¯ve heard of their Trade and Traveler Embargo, I suppose? Oh right, humans and terrans are reading this too. In short they restricted their own people from leaving Viro outside of special circumstances. Trade with neighboring worlds became infrequent every month, visitation rights from other worlds were restricted, and that was within seven years. Halcunacs are a superstitious species; it is a mystery their magical customs slowly dwindled in importance. The plant-animal hybrid magical species, quite rare in the galaxy, lost communes with their planet¡¯s living deity. The culture¡¯s clan leaders and politicians, including Galactic Councilman Rajda Algon, swore an oath of silence explaining why outside their planet, and all further learning lead to dead ends. I wanted to know¡ªbesides Terra Firma¡¯s predicament¡ªwhy his people were acting this way. Face it, this is the first Halcunac to ever make a serious, if not a political, problem with the Protection Act. If there weren¡¯t any answers, those rumors of Viro pulling out of the Republic could become true. Another hour passed with me scribbling a few theories into my notebook on so many theories. I was ready to throw my notebook as the door was kicked wide open hitting the wall. ¡°Found him,¡± Ketho said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t easy getting in the ship, but luckily, Denverbay gave me the shield¡¯s override codes. We found him passed out in a corner hugging an unmarked hooch bottle.¡± Ketho and Scott held Jaruka up by his arms, his legs dragged behind him. Long, unshaved and wooly wood-like skindreads hid his face. ¡°Ketho, please knock! I almost hit you!¡± I put my notebook down on the table. ¡°What do you mean passed out?¡± They came in and dropped the Halcunac on the floor like bad-butchered meat. Scott gasped for air and said, ¡°Friggin¡¯ hell, I think he gained some weight.¡± ¡°Terran strength. Still human after all,¡± Ketho said. ¡°Rare enough to see his kind way out here.¡± ¡°Kind?¡± I asked. ¡°No honor dread.¡± Ketho pointed at the exposed stump behind Jaruka¡¯s head. ¡°This guy¡¯s dry. Except for what he drank.¡± ¡°Honor dread?¡± Scott asked. That was interesting at the least. The stump was healed, but it had to have been sliced or burned off. So barbaric for his people, what kind of sick person did that? ¡°He¡¯s been like this since?¡± I asked. ¡°Yeah. Jaruka¡¯s been depressed ever since he parked that ship next to the lake. It¡¯s tough watching him but what else can we do? He refuses help, especially from Katie.¡± Jaruka snorted, full of backed up mucus, but was still asleep. ¡°I think I can handle this,¡± I said. ¡°You sure?¡± Ketho asked. ¡°I¡¯m sure. I have stuff to help clear his mind.¡± Ketho snapped her real fingers. ¡°Right, the daughter of a witch doctor.¡± That estranged tone made it sound that my great grandfather was a criminal. ¡°Don¡¯t take it that way. I¡¯ll handle the rest.¡± Scott seemed eager to leave the room after Ketho. She then closed the door. I knew male Halcunacs have short tempers, but there are ways to quell them. Medicinally. Jaruka did not move as I worked on a remedy passed down in the family; my deadbeat pharmacist great grandfather. I heard he was great, until the economy collapsed. I was fortunate enough to bring the ingredients. Customs was stringent on the ingredients, but they were given orders, from Denverbay himself, to let them pass. Maybe that¡¯s why he hired me. A careful measurement of poisonous calzi tree leaves soaked in a brine to remove the poison, hanged to dry, then ground into a powder, the other ingredients were a family secret. I added them all to a wood bowl then set it aflame with my magic and energetic words of calm, comfort and rejuvenation. The smoke slithered in the bowl like cloudy water. I had to turn Jaruka over on his back. Thanks, Ketho. I brushed Jaruka¡¯s dreads aside. For being a Halcunac, he looked rather handsome. He had a strong jawline and his green skin looked a bit lighter. ¡°Don¡¯t fail me, leaves,¡± I said as I held the bowl up. I said another chant and the smoke flowed into Jaruka¡¯s open mouth, then I quickly backed away. It¡¯s hard to tell if it works immediately, in a few minutes, or not at all. Jaruka gasped and his body shook violently. He got on all fours and coughed and spit, cursing in his language. Each of his dreads ground against themselves like sandpaper. Most Halcunacs hate the Zimmi Hangover Cure, but at least Jaruka did not attack me immediately. He sat up¡ªstill on the floor¡ªand pulled his dreads back out of his face. His eyes were black with a gold iris. ¡°What the¡­Who?¡± He spotted me with the bowl in a corner and the nervousness in me subsided as Jaruka slouched. ¡°Great,¡± he said through my universal translator. ¡°Denverbay send a Zimmi witch doctor as my replacement.¡± He wore a universal translator too, hopefully turned on. ¡°Um¡­No. I¡¯m no witch doctor.¡± ¡°No? I begged for one and I got¡­who are you?¡± The translator was on, thank goodness. ¡°Xi¡¯Tra Zader Khu II from RNN.¡± Jaruka gave an uncaring laugh. ¡°Come on. What¡¯s a guy got to do for some relief?¡± He rubbed his face and growled. Halcunacs have high standards of dress. Jaruka looked like he had been pulled off of Creos¡¯ dingy parts of the capitol stations. Those had better be drink stains on his shorts. That struck me. Halcunacs never act drunk and useless, it might have been a side effect of losing an honor dread. I would need to research that. Jaruka looked at me again. ¡°But I did remember something about a reporter.¡± ¡°Uh, yes, yes I am. I¡¯m here to collect stories for the Archives, and interview you and the couple.¡± ¡°I have a partner in this mess? Now I have someone to pin the work on.¡± He stood on his bare, three-toed feet. Jaruka is tall as any average Halcunac, but with the added dread growth being a shabby tree fit. ¡°Um¡­no. I was told that you are collecting stories for me to retrieve.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Jaruka rubbed his neck. ¡°See these eye rings? I keep drinking to pull myself out of this nightmare.¡± He took the second chair at the desk and sat, slumping, elbow on table and hand on face. ¡°So, dunderhead Denverbay put you up to this?¡± He asked. ¡°He hired me,¡± I said approaching the table. ¡°Sorry. But will this get me off this rock, like tomorrow?¡± I shook my head slowly. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure it will.¡± Jaruka grunted. I sat down across from him. ¡°Mr. Teal, I came here to interview you of what happened, and hoping you can tell why¡­¡± ¡°Look, before we start, get this straight,¡± he interrupted me. ¡°I know reporters. They want to know about Viro, I get it. I know nothing since I ¡®arrived¡¯ here. You start asking, I¡¯ll start walking. Please, don¡¯t.¡± So much for that, although I knew already that it would have been a waste of my time. ¡°I understand. The politics on Viro are becoming heated recently.¡± ¡°Like nonexistent. Keep it that way, reporter.¡± I crossed my arms. ¡°I do have a name. Xi¡¯Tra Zader Khu II.¡± Jaruka slowly looked up, becoming sober in a second. ¡°Xi¡¯Tra?¡± He said. ¡°The Legend?¡± I nodded, smiling, proud that someone in the galaxy remembered my father. Jaruka formed a short smirk. ¡°Small galaxy. Explains the familiar suit. Hope you have the balls to stay here. By the way, stay the crog away from these human fast food joints. Chemicals all over before entering those buildings.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± I said. I wonder if high-end dining is a thing on Terra Firma, like a bug stand. ¡°Question is where to start,¡± he said. ¡°I was thinking day one as starters. I like to go chronologically on current events.¡± That¡¯s when I noticed his hands balling in fists. ¡°Alright, fair enough. I¡¯ll play Denverbay¡¯s sadistic game.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡± Jaruka raised his hand. ¡°Don¡¯t ask. I¡¯ll tell you exactly what happened. Be sure to run when I start throwing stuff.¡± I¡¯ve dealt with more problematic people than Jaruka, but considering his level of anger, he seemed to cooperate. I think he wanted to share his story, others I don¡¯t think he could have been forced to do so. ¡°Shall we start?¡± I asked. Jaruka nodded, but I didn¡¯t expect that he would put on memory-recording device¡¯s halo around his head. ¡°Um¡­¡± ¡°I know how this goes. Done over twenty of these routine memory recordings,¡± he said. ¡°Oh, okay. That¡¯s fine.¡± I did care, but I managed to speak indifferently as I calibrated the borrowed tech. I opened a paper notebook and said, ¡°So before the Wave, did you visit this solar system be¡­¡± ¡°Ever heard of Benali Zanos?¡± He interrupted me again. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Gnogal supernatural scientist? Short bastard like that night stand? Ring any bells in journalism?¡± The square machine dinged and stored an image. I¡¯m an investigative reporter and he expected me to know this stuff, but I didn¡¯t, and I felt like I was pushing me like Ketho did. Typical Halcunac, always getting out the point and moving on. It¡¯s a no brainer they hate today¡¯s media. I took a breather and said, ¡°I know you are frustrated, but I have a job to do, not be pushed around. Please, for the sake of my gods, let me ask the questions and you answer them. One thing at a time.¡± ¡°The faster I do this, the less time I worry about the people camped around my ship. ¡°I heard,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°I mean really tough. This city, Porter, the FBI, CIA, EPA idiots, and others.¡± ¡°You¡¯re rambling.¡± Jaruka closed his eyes and rubbed his face. ¡°No, I have not been to this solar system. Ever.¡± The machine pinged again. ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°But, you¡¯re probably right. We can start from the beginning.¡± ¡°Good, because you¡¯ll need to remember this,¡± he said with hard eyes. ¡°And I mean remember.¡±
Three months before The Wave¡­ October 15, 2012, Terra Firma Time Creos, Maji Bay, Larada fishing village I can say, on record, this mess I¡¯m in, started with three knocks on my airlock. I miss the Lunar Spear. Oh right, you don¡¯t know that. It was my ship, before it was shot down, split in half, and chopped into pieces. I¡¯ll tell you about it later. Those knocks woke me up and I snorted through my pillow and blankets. ¡°What¡­Who? Who¡¯s there?¡± ¡°Jaruka, you in there?!¡± The voice came from under me in the ship¡¯s workspace under the bed. ¡°It¡¯s Dozel. You awake?¡± ¡°Oh come on, not now,¡± I complained in my dark, empty bedroom. I did not want to fight that day. I rolled out of bed, fell, and hit the floor coughing out mucus. I was malnourished. I found my plasma pistol under my pillow in the dark and then crawled to the floor airlock. I fired up the gun¡ªthe green glow illuminated everything¡ªand said through the door, ¡°Who wants to know?¡± ¡°Someone needs to see you.¡± ¡°Who? You?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then who the crog are you and why? People die when people rudely wake me up.¡± ¡°I told you, it¡¯s Dozel. I¡¯m your fishing partner. Remember?¡± ¡°I know a Dozel, but you might be a fake.¡± ¡°Stop being a jackass and unlock the door!¡± I pinched a jagged dread in my fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I can tell something is different in your voice. I need proof.¡± I clicked off my translator on my neck. I heard a string of low-toned throat sounds and clicks of Creosian. One of those words was a curse Dozel uses while fishing. ¡°Close.¡± No other species speak Creosian fluently, it¡¯s even hard to imitate without universal translators, or a robot. If it was Dozel, and he was, I loved screwing with him. Pointing my pistol at Dozel¡¯s forehead, though, was part joke and part seriousness. Dozel stood on the stairs, one of three legs tapping on the metal, with three un-amused eyes staring back at me. His head quills never moved, not even flinched from me. He¡¯s a good kid, level tempered for a fisherman¡¯s son. I used to hang out with his father¡¯s family many times, exchanging food for fishing time on the ocean. Of course at that time, fishing season was closed and would not open back up until¡­oh, right now. ¡°Hey,¡± I said. Several skin dreads fell through the doorway, dangling in front of Dozel, each a jagged, lifeless wooden tentacle. Come to think of it, with the natural oil on them, they did look terrible, like right now. I need a shave. Dozel brushed water off his raincoat. ¡°Hey,¡± he said. Oh yeah, it was raining that day. I smirked and pulled my gun out of his face. ¡°If it¡¯s your uncle offering me a job, tell him I¡¯ll be ready by tomorrow.¡± ¡°Jaruka, it is not about my uncle.¡± Did Denverbay tell you about my problem before the asteroid? No? Alright. I was jobless for two months, for real, not even Brill from Nova Company had anything. It was one useless job hunt after another and it¡¯s usually immediate. I had never had that bad of a dry spell. My savings was running dry, and I was desperate to catch any low-end jobs at the capitol, but almost all had turned me down. A well-respected mercenary could not get work, explain that. ¡°Then why wake me? I¡¯m having a bad day.¡± I wiggled a dread in Dozel¡¯s face. Dozel rolled his three eyes in irritation. ¡°A small man has been trying to reach you for hours. He say he got your message for work.¡± I tucked some dreads from my face. ¡°Who?¡± I asked in confusion. Dozel called out the man¡¯s name and the guy peeked inside from the main hatch behind my ship. I will never forget the Gnogal¡¯s face, take lots of notes and investigate him to a hair pin, Xi¡¯Tra, I bet there¡¯s more than wind in his past. ¡°Wow, I see life¡¯s been rough, Halcunac. Captain Secambre said it¡¯d be true,¡± he said, like a calculative shmuck. Gnogals aren¡¯t hard to find in a crowd, just look down and spot red-grey faces with white hair. He had a floating canopy of fine leather to keep the rain off of him and wore Gnogal business robes, embroidered with runes. I knew he practiced heavy magic by his two-foot staff in his hand, not his robes. He must have been magic-born or something. ¡°Sorry for disturbing you, Mr. Teal, but I was certain you could hear my proposal since this nice young lad helped me.¡± I nodded. ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± ¡°Permission to enter?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I sighed, ¡°but I can¡¯t come down. I¡¯m ah¡­bare ass right now.¡± That was the truth. I have my ways of sleeping you know. The canopy folded into his robe and he stepped inside. He was scanning my workspace, everything from my glassblowing furnace to weapons lockers. He looked at my lockers and my katana on the workbench the longest. He does not trust me, I thought. Ready for any wrong moves, and with my gun in the bedroom, I pulled the hammer. ¡°Nice ship, Mr. Teal.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Never seen this model for a while.¡± ¡°It¡¯s vintage. You got a message? And you mentioned Brill?¡± ¡°Yes, indeed. I came across your message by your Nova Company superior officer. I undoubtedly accepted it based on your experience,¡± he explained. ¡°I was hoping to hear the job I have to offer.¡± I remembered that I had asked Brill to help with jobs. I guess word of mouth finally paid off. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked. ¡°Name¡¯s Benali Zanos. I represent a magical science community for scientific expeditions.¡± I¡¯ve done magical science work in the past, it¡¯s a cakewalk for magical folk, which I¡¯m not, but I can still function. ¡°How about you explain this somewhere else,¡± I said, eyeing Dozel. ¡°This is not a secure place. Plus I hope that whatever you offer has food.¡± Benali nodded. ¡°Of course. Capitol platform perhaps?¡± I thought about it. ¡°Lots of food.¡± ¡°Okay. So you are interested?¡± ¡°First food, then explanation, and I bet that whatever you want to offer, you want me bad.¡± ¡°Ah, smart. Your reputation has never been ignored,¡± he said. ¡°Very well then. How about we travel together to get things started.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll meet you there,¡± I said. ¡°Ah, right. Sorry. I¡¯ll contact you later with the location. And sorry for disturbing you, Mr. Teal.¡± He placed his contact card on the workbench, a plastic card with Gnogal glyphs. ¡°It¡¯s alright, I¡¯m used to rude awakenings.¡± ¡°As if,¡± Dozel whispered. I flicked a dread at his face. ¡°Talk to you soon, Mr. Teal,¡± Benali said and walked out with the canopy open. I was unaware he rode in a transport; we heard him fly off in the rain. ¡°I don¡¯t trust him,¡± I said. ¡°You have trust issues,¡± Dozel said. ¡°He looked shifty.¡± ¡°But a good talk. You can finally work off that stench in my face.¡± I grumbled. Good talk, yes, but I knew my limitations. My senses told me to ignore this, but my senses don¡¯t know jack about the real world. I needed money, fuel, food. I needed companionship for goodness sake. I couldn¡¯t ignore what Benali was offering, it was tempting without knowing. You understand, right? If you were job hunting for two months with no leads, and then a job finally comes, you take it, right? Exactly. Nobody offers unknown jobs with food. It takes a while to bribe someone to feed you, but Benali accepted my offer without problem. How can you decipher that? And so I told Dozel to skedaddle. I showered, dressed, shaved my dreads, ate whatever crumbs I found in the pantry for the trip, secured the Lunar Spear (public transportation sounded good) and traveled to the address Benali sent me. Just to be safe, I brought my plasma pistol and katana with me. I can¡¯t be too careful in the galaxy, right? Especially Gnogals. Part 3 Three hours later I was in Rizler, the financial district platform over the Irrado Sea. Try traveling with a Creosian newborn, crying the whole time, and hoping to Goddess it doesn¡¯t puke in the turbulence. I think I¡¯ve been to Rizler several times. I go there only for pleasure, but only briefly, it¡¯s too damn expensive there. Those cheating bastards charge for water. Rich or poor, that platform milks you dry. If it¡¯s a job there, then yes, I tell them to pay more. Walking to the location, I could feel the sun bring life to my skin and dark brown dreads for once. I was aware that my presence intimidated some folks. I had my weapons in the open but that was just because I was the only Halcunac in the city. The meeting place was on the tallest plateau; the streets weren¡¯t clogged with hovercrafts like they had been on the lower levels. A street food vendor was a block away; my backup in case Benali did not feed me. Creosian stews wafted through the air, making my stomach groan for attention. There was a sign over black double doors. The Starlight. Fancy. ¡°Just go in, hear the pitch, and move on. Don¡¯t do anything you¡¯ll regret, big guy,¡± I muttered. I pushed the doors and went down a short flight of stairs into a short hallway lit with actual electric bulbs. I assumed that the red-skinned, four-armed male Caducera guarding the entrance was a warrior-trained bouncer. His armor looked too tight and he had three hardwood clubs strapped to his belt. Must be some wealthy clientele inside. He held up all four hands to stop me. ¡°Weapons. Club policy,¡± he said in a low and tired voice. ¡°I get the program,¡± I said with a sigh. My plasma pistol went into the only locker alongside dozens of other confiscated weapons. I held onto my katana a bit longer. ¡°If I catch a single scratch on the sheath, or give me shit you have not seen it, your hand is mine.¡± I said as I handed it to him. The guy¡ªlets¡¯s call him Mr. Brute¡ªexamined the sword¡¯s braided leather handle and scabbard, without unsheathing the katana too much, he inspected the blade and the emerald vines engraved on the base. Satisfied, Brute set it by a broadsword and hammer. ¡°State your business,¡± he asked. ¡°Meeting a potential client for a job. He said he¡¯d be here,¡± I answered. He hummed under his breath. ¡°Yes. He told me a Halcunac was coming.¡± He paused. ¡°Go in. But cross a line, mercenary¡­Halcunac. You¡¯re out. Cazu?¡± ¡°Crystal.¡± I smiled, gave him a two-finger salute, and entered. You¡¯ve been there, Xi¡¯Tra? I know, Brute was an ass, I could tell. The Starlight was one ritzy place. White tablecloths, shiny silverware, pressed waiter suits on several different species, and food made for ¡°sophisticated¡± pallets. Blah blipidy blah. I felt underdressed standing there. Several businesspeople of the same species (name unpronounceable) mingled amongst themselves with their universal translators turned off while eating what appeared to be fish. Creosian stew was there, a prime staple. My mouth watered after having lived on rations for a couple months. I missed food that didn¡¯t come from freeze-dried packets. ¡°Ah, Mr. Teal, you arrived,¡± Benali said as he approached me from the bar with a cocktail glass in hand. I could have drop kicked the bastard through the window and smashed him against the concrete in Staz River Park ten stories down. ¡°I have a private booth for us. Hope you like savory flavors.¡± I don¡¯t know how long it had been before I realized exactly what I ate. I cherish the fact that I can get by without much, such as a well-seasoned meal at a street vendor and a movie on someone else¡¯s screen. ¡°Hope you don¡¯t make me broke. I didn¡¯t count how hungry you were.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t say,¡± I said with my mouth full. I was croging hungry. I gulped down a glass of wine¡ªhousemate Shriv honey wine¡ªswallowed, and belched to the side, with class. ¡°Oh man, do I love calibird pie. Sometime I beg clients to feed me, but I thank you sir.¡± ¡°Certainly,¡± Benali said, stunned at but the three empty dishes. He still had his bottomless cocktail. I leaned back as I sipped my wine. The private booth had a yellow half-circle couch and magic-lit lights floating on the ceiling. ¡°So, Benali, what sort of job is this?¡± Benali nodded. ¡°You seem eager to have it.¡± ¡°You noticed.¡± ¡°Well, for Halcunacs, it is customary to know one another,¡± he said. ¡°You haven¡¯t spoken proper greetings since you came, or at the ship. Bear with me, this is my first time meeting a Halcunac in a while.¡± ¡°Oh, I see,¡± I said with my eyes nearly closed. I pointed to my stump behind my head and said, ¡°See this?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I had an honor dread, but not anymore. I severed my ties with Viro a long time ago. They don¡¯t come after me much often, but sometimes for an excuse. You ask anything about what they see me as, forget it.¡± The same goes to you, Xi¡¯Tra. Do your own research. Benali¡¯s black eyes widened. ¡°Severed? But you¡¯re a hybrid species. You can¡¯t use magic anymore?¡± ¡°Nope, and don¡¯t ask how. Forget my culture, get to the details. If you want to ask more questions about my people, then forget hiring me.¡± Benali stroked his white beard. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll respect your reasons.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°The job. What is it?¡± Benali cleared his throat. ¡°It¡¯s a non-military survey job. Nothing too hard to handle.¡± I skewed my brow. ¡°Government work?¡± Benali nodded. ¡°Huh. I¡¯ve done survey jobs for mining corporations and ground troop movement, but not government. It¡¯s not Viro?¡± ¡°Certainly not.¡± ¡°Okay. What am I surveying?¡± Benali sipped his milky cocktail. ¡°The company, contracted by the Republic, hires third-party techs to monitor one suspicious asteroid in deep space.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it? A rock?¡± ¡°Not just any rock,¡± Benali continued. ¡°A year and a half ago, it entered a restricted system. We mentioned it to the Council but none gave interest or clearance for further investigation. We need someone with stealth technology to help us, and your ship has it.¡± ¡°Okay. What system?¡± Benali leaned forward but not over the table. ¡°Politically sensitive?¡± I leaned forward. ¡°How sensitive?¡± ¡°PCPA.¡± I leaned back, whistled, and nodded. ¡°Primitive Culture Protection Act.¡± You know about it? Okay, just making sure.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Precisely, and a well-known primitive species I¡¯ll press.¡± I asked about the asteroid¡¯s trajectory, and the Council¡¯s involvement. Get this: Asteroid Helen was deemed harmless to the Council, a pass by, but the company made it a potential for extinction. Not even the Council itself had the nerve to call for movers to lower the threat. ¡°It just be natural selection removing a thorn in the galaxy. Big whoop. Plenty of young species to go around. What¡¯s so important about this species to potentially wipe it from existence, maybe?¡± I drank my wine. Benali paused. ¡°The planet is Red Flagged.¡± I grumbled in my cup, looking dead on at Benali. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡± ¡°I value life, as do your people. I¡¯d rather see a violent species evolve a little longer then be extinct.¡± ¡°And you want me to monitor it?¡± I said. ¡°In hopes a murderous species doesn¡¯t kill anything that¡¯s not their own?¡± The Gnogal nodded. You know where this went. ¡°Goodbye.¡± I stood, set my glass down, and started for the door. ¡°Wait, we¡¯re not done. You haven¡¯t heard the rest.¡± ¡°I heard enough, this job sounds like a death trap.¡± ¡°It is not, I assure you.¡± ¡°My answer is no.¡± My hand rested on the lock screen beside the door. ¡°Is that how you drop a money making chance? You¡¯re just like all Halcunacs!¡± Had that guy ever heard how bad Red Flagged planets are? ¡°Benali. Red Flagged PCPA planets are restricted systems.¡± ¡°I know, but¡­¡± ¡°They are dangerous, primitive cultures. Vicious, unstable, and may I add psychotically murderous species. One Academy professor pinned those planets as potential galaxy hyper novas. I can¡¯t be part of this, I have other things to look forward to, not risking my neck for science or a cannibal¡¯s supper.¡± I twisted back to Benali, still on the couch with a look of resentment. ¡°It¡¯s a scam. Is it?¡± I asked ¡°Not a scam. I swear on my ancestor¡¯s alter, it is real,¡± Benali said with a one-hand salute, a Gnogal gesture promising truth. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that alter stuff, I know better. Unless you have one damn good reason why I even should consider.¡± Benali shook his head and his beard swayed. ¡°All you do is park on the surface, monitor our survey computer, send reports, and leave after the time required. And before you ask, we can¡¯t risk watching it remotely, the asteroid¡¯s spinning on its axis. This will pull you from your financial dilemma.¡± ¡°Try me,¡± I dared. Benali said the exact amount and my hand dropped from the door. I had a relapse in thought. Eight digits. That amount of cash was more than I had ever earned. Real cash, not credits. All my mercenary life I had scrounged funds, using every cent, even connections like Nova Company to supplement. Benali was offering the amount equivalent to a king¡¯s retirement for fifty years. Council members don¡¯t earn that much. If the reward was posted, people would have killed to have the survey job. Then again, it was suspicious. He said the price like he knew me. I clenched my jaw and glared at the Gongel. ¡°It is a lot,¡± Benali said, ¡°but we pay contractors well. An honest beast giving up a potential kill to the less fortunate is noble or cautious. This is vital for the planet¡¯s unhindered natural development, even for a Red Flagged planet of course.¡± It had to be bribe money. Now Xi¡¯Tra, if you were in the same position as me, hearing all this shit, what would you do? Retire? Start a new business? Buy a terraformed moon all for yourself? Who cares? I value life too, but this was sounding like it had an agenda. ¡°There are twenty known Red Flagged planets in this galaxy. Why should this one be saved?¡± I asked. ¡°How do you know that number?¡± Benali asked. ¡°Academy graduate. You can never forget that number.¡± ¡°Right. I understand,¡± Benali nodded. ¡°But are you interested?¡± ¡°I did not say that. Tell me the planet¡¯s name or I¡¯m gone.¡± He did not say it out loud, only a fool would have caused that kind of ruckus. He pulled out his touchpad from his robes. With three key commands, a paper printed out from the touchpad¡¯s top. Since when did the financial district use paper? He held it up and said, ¡°A copy of the contract, as requested.¡± I snatched it from his hands. What he said was true, the asteroid¡¯s coordinates were unfamiliar, but there was no question, the Red Flagged planet¡¯s name in bold was a massive eye opener. It was a highly known species, and the most violent. I felt rage boil inside me as my body froze and shook. I went dali shit and pushed the table aside, grabbed Benali by the shoulders, and pinned him against the wall. The sound was loud enough to have alerted others outside. ¡°Terra Firma! Are you Goddess damn croging kidding me!?¡± I exclaimed so hard my neck felt like steel. ¡°Put me down, Mr. Teal!¡± ¡°No! Those humans are the top tier feared species in the galaxy. You better spill the truth why you want them to live or so help me I will beat the truth out of you!¡± ¡°Stop this or else!¡± He punched my arms but it was useless. ¡°Not until you tell me!¡± Remember when I said that Gnogal¡¯s are magical? Yeah, I¡¯m the idiot of my own joke. I assaulted a magical being, one big fat mistake in the galaxy. I remember light flashing in my face and my body slamming against a wall. I think my chest became someone¡¯s punching bag before I was knocked out.
I forgot why I was taking notes while Jaruka recounted his meeting. ¡°My¡­goodness,¡± I said. ¡°But¡­was he alright?¡± ¡°Fine, I think, but I should¡¯ve punched him first,¡± Jaruka said. ¡°I was lucky enough to pocket the paper.¡± I paused to check my notes. I had plenty of key points and theories, and I double checked for connection I had not seen initially. Jaruka¡¯s story was an interesting one indeed. My room felt stuffy for that first hour, and my joints were feeling quite stiff. I asked if we could bring the interview outside and Jaruka agreed. I understood that Ketho was furious at my request, but Tigap constructed a kinetic shield across the patio. The guards were on the other side patrolling the area keeping unwanted humans and terrans from seeing us, careful not to disturb any customers at the winery. I restarted the recordings after being seated at a table. ¡°So what happened after the fight at The Starlight?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ll get to that.¡± Jaruka took a drink of the Walsh family¡¯s signature wine, it was the only thing that he drank. He did not sample the cheeses and fruits that we were offered, and luckily my nanites allowed me to. However, I wanted to finish the interview before eating. ¡°I will ask this,¡± Jaruka started and I prepared to write. ¡°Did Denverbay tell you about Benali?¡± ¡°I thought we agreed I ask the questions?¡± ¡°I want to know what he told you,¡± he said with distaste. I set my pen down. ¡°Okay. He told me nothing about Benali.¡± ¡°Assumed he would.¡± ¡°But before coming here,¡± I said. ¡°He said a Red Flagged planet experienced a catastrophe and made the species docile. I can agree.¡± My main focus was to not enrage a human to the point of murder. ¡°Anything else?¡± Jaruka asked. ¡°Oh yeah. You were involved, the PCPA was broken, humans gaining magic which I laughed a little about, but no, nothing else. He hired me to report it.¡± Jaruka was quiet for a moment until he said, ¡°No Benali? No Reapers? Or my imprisonment? Or the fact that an odd-looking Reaper nearly slaughtered me, a small portion of the Endeavour crew, and the terrans? Not even this whole country attacked by enthralled zombies and die right when the reaper was nearly blown apart by terran magic?¡± I did not move for a few seconds. I pulled myself to say, ¡°What? Reapers? The Malcar¡¯Ji are here?¡± ¡°No¡­he didn¡¯t,¡± I said. Jaruka sniffed. ¡°Just like any other person in the Council.¡± He pulled a few dreads back. ¡°I¡¯ll get into the Reaper later, less you want to feel sick from your snack.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m certainly interested, Mr. Teal. Malcar¡¯Ji violence is rare, almost extinct, and that information can tip balance with those clans and their political affiliation with the Republic. It¡¯s pure silver for every journalist. I need to know the why, the how, the what, just¡­everything.¡± ¡°Same here, but I still have nightmares to ask. Go to Scott, he had front row seats to that monstrosity.¡± ¡°Monstrosity?¡± ¡°Later. I¡¯m bored.¡± I shook my head and took up my pen. ¡°Right. So back to Benali. You accepted the job.¡± ¡°Do the stars twinkle at night? Obviously, but I had time to think before accepting it. Get this: before I left for the system for four months, he gave me a year¡¯s supply of Slipspace crystals.¡± I gasped so loud it might have caught attention from the humans and terrans. ¡°Knew you would react to that,¡± Jaruka said. ¡°A year¡¯s worth?¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Tha-That amount is for starships and government-sanctioned cruisers. With that much, you can travel just about anywhere in the galaxy. How much?¡± ¡°An unmarked fifty kilo case.¡± I gasped again. ¡°But not to travel with,¡± he said. ¡°Each crystal was big enough for communication between Creos and Terra Firma. I had my own travel crystals if you were wondering. From the math I did out of pure boredom one day, that crate, one year it looked, was four months of coms.¡± Jaruka leaned forward over the Terra Firma food. ¡°No markings on the crate. No numbers. Black market supply. Funny, huh?¡± All too funny, and familiar, this reminded me of a similar case. A fleet of colony ships with thousands of unregistered Slipspace crystal crates, all bought off on the black market, nigh impossible to trace. The colony was fined, but it was impossible to trace the buyer or supplier. Most of the crates went missing during processing, but that was what the officers assumed. I must look up that when I get home. ¡°Do you still have the crate?¡± I asked Jaruka. Jaruka shook his head. ¡°I looked all over for it. Somebody at Area 51 must¡¯ve took it. Maybe Griffon. Who knows?¡± ¡°Griffon? What¡¯s this Area 51?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll¡­explain later,¡± he said. ¡°Now it¡¯s my turn. Are you going to eat something?¡± I blinked. ¡°Sorry?¡± ¡°Look, Katie brought this wine and food just for you. I can drink the wine, but I¡¯m not going near the food. I have reasons.¡± I looked down at the untouched platter, it was filled with local cheeses like Bleu, Gouda, and Cheddar, sourdough bread slices and tiny French rolls, and an assortment of nuts and dried fruits. All of it complimented the winery¡¯s best seller, I think it was Cliffhanger Port. ¡°I¡¯ll get to it,¡± I simply said. ¡°I think it¡¯ll last. This is more important than the food.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± Jaruka asked. ¡°Very sure. You got my interest. Now tell me, what happened after the restaurant fight?¡± Part 4 ¡°Pardon me while I repeat your stupidity,¡± said Lieutenant Wringheart, the senior engineering officer, and a major thorn in my back. ¡°You went to see a Gnogal supernatural scientist, attacked him, got hit by his kinetic cannon ball, damaged restaurant property, got the living shit beaten out of you by a Caducera bouncer, and thrown out the door, just to hear this harebrained job. Anything else?¡± Can you hear the enthusiasm in her voice? She just loves to see me suffer. You¡¯ll meet her when you see Brill. I pressed the ice pack to my swollen right eye, cheek, and jawline and spat red blood on the Endeavour¡¯s hanger bay floor. I was covered in bruises, I think I had some cracked ribs too. I refused any treatment from the ship¡¯s medical officer, Sergeant Russ Decathan (good man) because Halcunacs heal fast, and he had better things to do then heal me. I looked up at that brown, red, and blue canine Vyroka taur, her arms crossed over her bosom, and an icy stare on her face. ¡°Ow, crap,¡± I said with chest pain. ¡°Good to see you again.¡± I smiled to annoy her. ¡°Captain, explain why we still care for this jerk?¡± She asked. ¡°Every time I see him I remember Diremoon¡¯s broken heart.¡± Standing beside her was my good friend, Captain Brill Secambre, the short grey-skinned Rezuma, leader of the Endeavour and commander in chief of Nova Company. He stood before me, wearing the same pressed officer uniform of the battlegroup as always. Wanna hear something funny? Humans call Rezumas ¡°Roswell Greys.¡± What the heck is Roswell? ¡°It depends, lieutenant, but have sympathy for a fellow gunslinger,¡± he said. ¡°We are all dealing with a low point. It¡¯s not like this is the first time his arrogance controlled him.¡± I always admired his fatherly ideals. ¡°I can name several.¡± Wringheart glared hard at me. ¡°Oh so wha¡­Ow. I¡¯m in pain, woman,¡± I said. A supply trolley passed by and a familiar amphibious driver waved. ¡°Welcome back, Jaruka,¡± he said. I waved back. Yeah, welcome back indeed. ¡°Lieutenant, can we have a moment alone?¡± Brill said. ¡°Go¡­update the Slipspace guidance system or something.¡± The taur sighed. ¡°But captain¡­¡± ¡°No buts. Not now,¡± Brill said as he approached me. ¡°Yes, sir. Message me when he¡¯s gone.¡± Wringheart sighed again. ¡°Oh don¡¯t be such a pushover,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m here ain¡¯t I? Am I allowed to swap war stories with friends? The least I can do is muck up your guidance system to not find me and kill me.¡± I wasn¡¯t able to track Wringheart¡¯s hind legs as they swung up to sock me in the chest and right shoulder, instantly causing me to fall off the creates I was sitting on. The pain was great, but laughing was too. ¡°Nice talking to you!¡± I yelled. Wringheart walked away. ¡°She needs to drop that ego,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not like she was the one I pissed off.¡± ¡°She can hold a grudge for others, especially for other Vyrokans. By the way, you still need to apologize to Amber.¡± He helped me up with his telekinesis. ¡°You know her. She started it.¡± Wringheart¡¯s kick aggravated the fading bruises, but it was nothing new. I sat back down on the crate. Brill sat beside me and took off his black and red navy hat, setting it on an adjacent crate. ¡°Terra Firma,¡± he said, reading word for word from the paper I smuggled. ¡°Four months monitoring the asteroid and sending survey reports every twelve hours. Half of total pay up front, the other half afterwards. Must not leave or second half will be denied.¡± He stopped. ¡°If it was a different planet, I would take it.¡± ¡°No kidding,¡± I said. ¡°This job still smells bad, Brill.¡± ¡°You¡¯d think this is bad? Try roster checks and board meetings. We¡¯ve had no mission for two months either. Most of the crew wishes they were with their families. How does that make me feel?¡± ¡°Lousy?¡± ¡°Correct. At least nobody¡¯s gone crazy yet.¡± I grumbled and complained, ¡°It¡¯s like this whole galaxy took a break.¡± Brill agreed. I took the paper from him for another look, to stare at the planet¡¯s name. Why Terra Firma? Forget bringing this up to the Council, they might¡¯ve known about Benali¡¯s job. I could think of a few other mercenaries that Beanie could rely on for stealth ships, he might have been reaching out to them that moment. I needed money. Most of Nova¡¯s crew was out earning income any way they could. I can blow glass and craft, but even at a hocker market, none of my creations sold. Hence my species coming to people¡¯s minds. Brill sighed. ¡°You¡¯re going to take that job. I can see that interest on your face and dreads.¡± Brill knew me well, and knew me well. That¡¯s what you get from a friend for nearly two decades. ¡°What choice do I have?¡± I asked. ¡°Sell glassware?¡± I gave Brill a disappointed look. ¡°Tell them you not affiliated, the money will roll I expect.¡± I folded the paper in my hands. ¡°Brill, I need four months of ration packs, fusion engine coolant, a couple cases of homebrew¡­¡± ¡°No,¡± Brill interrupted, but I continued. ¡°Water in my tanks, and an overhaul¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°¡­of the Lunar Spear¡¯s cloaking tech without Wringheart¡¯s supervision.¡± ¡°Oh, come on.¡± Brill turned away. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you after Benali pays the first half. Don¡¯t tell me the mechanics are on vacation.¡± ¡°Jaruka, you¡¯re smarter than this. You said it yourself the job smells bad. Are you that dunce in the head?¡± ¡°You know why,¡± I reminded him. ¡°I would move on.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t have your own people waiting to catch you off guard,¡± I reminded him. ¡°It¡¯s sketchy! We don¡¯t know of this Gnogal is truthful. Not even my species agrees with Gnogal customs.¡± I was irritated. First he was supportive, then he wasn¡¯t, and he was right. ¡°Is it that important to stay afloat? To keep running? To prove to them your worth more than trash?¡± Brill asked. He always hammers me with that every single time. ¡°And I hoped for once you were ready to hide for once. Plenty of planets to make home, Jaruka. A chance for your family to leave Viro. Not even your kind is not made to survive in space, let alone four months.¡± I stood, towering over Brill. ¡°So what if it is a scam? Big deal, I can track Benali down, go on trial, and get a hefty settlement before punching him to the floor. Brill, you¡¯ve been my friend and commanding officer for a long time. Now would be a good time to be supportive.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°But this¡­¡± ¡°You care for me, I get it. You know me like the back of your hand. I do this to prove I¡¯m worth something, not just a massive blame on my people¡¯s problems. This job will keep me doing it.¡± I shook the paper at Brill. ¡°Is this your only choice? How¡¯s this? I know a mine owner in the Dega system, he might need help.¡± ¡°The mines? Pass. I gag the minute I sniff carbon monoxide.¡± ¡°Fine. Be this stubborn.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ll stay that way.¡± I laughed a little, but not out of joy. Brill closed his big, black oval eyes. He could never overcome my history; nobody in Nova would dare to. Well, except Denverbay. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else, Brill. I will take this. There were times when I want to settle down, take up fishing and glassblowing for a living, but not now. It¡¯s too risky. And you know. Everybody knows. This will help me.¡± ¡°How?¡± Brill asked. ¡°Why hasn¡¯t the Council vaporized the asteroid yet? If it¡¯s not a threat, it makes sense,¡± I said. ¡°If it is, why no action? Maybe I can get some leeway out of it, but still, this is my only choice. Please, support me on this one.¡± ¡°Jaruka¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say it. Don¡¯t you dare. For the record, if anything happens to me, let my father and sister know.¡± Brill looked up surprised, as expected. ¡°Okay. Okay. If that¡¯s your choice. Whatever you need, I¡¯ll supply. I¡¯ll inform the ship mechanics right away.¡± I smiled. ¡°You¡¯re awesome.¡±
I should¡¯ve pressed Jaruka for the real answer instead of waiting. I had forgotten that I was outside; still on Terra Firma. I heard nothing but silence. Javo. Jaruka went on to say that he had called Benali, apologizing first, then started the job. To his recollection, Benali was very forgiving. But the Council itself not raising a finger¡­ ¡°And you stayed there for four months?¡± I asked. ¡°Three really. Next month would¡¯ve been it and I¡¯d be long gone from this system,¡± Jaruka said. ¡°Oh. Sorry.¡± The memory-recording device dinged again, as it had for the past four hours. ¡°And you never left, correct?¡± I asked. ¡°You were that desperate for the money?¡± Jaruka nodded and said, ¡°Yes. Not a single meter. It was living hell, even the rock¡¯s surface. Every twelve hours those meaningless and almost duplicate reports were sent to the guy. Nothing exciting, the asteroid did its thing.¡± ¡°Did its thing?¡± Jaruka was leaning forward, hands clasped and resting under his chin. ¡°It changed course by itself, toward the planet. If you noticed the purple crystals around here, they came from it. Makes you wonder how that was possible.¡± Jaruka finished his glass of wine and I waited for him to finish the bottle. My glass was still full, and the food untouched¡ªI¡¯ve been accused of ignoring my meals during intense conversations. I leaned forward. ¡°Turned¡­on its own?¡± Jaruka nodded. ¡°H-How can that be?¡± ¡°Good question. I¡¯m still figuring that out.¡± Jaruka took a drink of wine. ¡°Tell me, have you felt their magic?¡± I did not hesitate to nod. ¡°I felt something about Ms. Walsh.¡± ¡°After touching her?¡± I nodded once. ¡°When their magic is activated, or during a transformation, my dreads curl and my insides twist. It¡¯s like nothing I ever felt. Their magic scares me for being GMTs.¡± ¡°G-what?¡± I asked, turning a notebook page. In between Jaruka¡¯s talks, I had thought briefly about the couple¡¯s magic. I can multitask, but I have to balance it well. ¡°Genetic Magical Transformations,¡± Jaruka explained. I wrote down the name and quickly made a connection. ¡°Right. GMTs. Totally forgot. Like the Galmadesh species in the Goomash Raid.¡± I paused spotting Katie walking out the backdoor and out to the vineyard. ¡°Yo-You think they¡­¡± ¡°Nothing like that, I made sure,¡± Jaruka interrupted. ¡°But the asteroid crash, the Wave, the terran transformations¡ªthey stink of GMT. Every human on this planet was part, I believe, is an engineered event. Somebody did this, and Benali is one clue.¡± ¡°I see,¡± I said. ¡°So, on the record, you have any hope the Council will send aid?¡± I asked because of their track record. Terra Firma is still in PCPA laws, but I was not sure if they were still Red Flagged. The Council values and honors life. My answer was definite. ¡°Crog no,¡± Jaruka immediately said. ¡°If I were them, I would not come near here for any reason.¡± I blinked. ¡°But they must. Terra Firma¡­¡± ¡°Is still and will be a Red Flagged planet, I guarantee it. You try asking those questions to Denverbay and he¡¯ll say it too. No aid. No support. Just monitor.¡± I didn¡¯t know if Jaruka had any evidence for his claim, but I hoped that he was wrong. By noon Terra Firma time, I was famished, but I kept going, this interview was getting too good. I settled for snacking absentmindedly on the sample plate in the meantime. ¡°Mr. Teal,¡± I said. ¡°Tell me everything. And I mean everything. I want to know what happened between the asteroid crash and now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lot of information,¡± Jaruka said. ¡°You have me for a day¡­¡± ¡°We can go into the night. I¡¯ll do the same for Scott and Katie. What I¡¯m seeing is something bigger than Benali¡¯s involvement.¡± ¡°Benali is involved.¡± ¡°That be the case, piecing things together helps. Whatever I collect today and the next four days, including whatever you can get while on the planet, will help tremendously. Can you do that, Mr. Teal?¡± He agreed without hesitation. Even after I recorded everything from Jaruka, I wasn¡¯t prepared at all for Scott and Katie¡¯s perspective.
Zimana. It¡¯s slightly smaller than Terra Firma; has oceans, forests and mountains, but unlike the backwater planet, Zimana has smaller oceans, varied geography, and the largest forms of fungi within over fifty worlds. The humidity scares away most off-worlders. My people colonized planets and moons in our twelve planet, two star system, but I, like my father, prefer my species¡¯ birthplace. My family, the Zader Khu family, live in the mushroom forests of Monta. Over the years, my father worked hard as a reporter, but never went as far as a mansion and cushy life. He preferred the family cabin, deep in the forest, and kept working until his passing. Since returning from Terra Firma two days ago and completing Captain Brill Secambre¡¯s interview (I did taste the food and drink on Terra Firma), I feverishly finished all the compiled notes and memory recordings for Councilman Denverbay. Everything was collected into one single file, compressed and broadcasted on a secure channel to be analyzed for unknown reasons. The process will be repeated over and over. I felt mentally sick of the truth, like, why was there no aid, and a blanket of Titan Spires? Jaruka was serious about terran magic. Katie demonstrated her magic effortlessly with several simple spells she had learned and created on her own, but Scott was unable to due to a massive injury to his mana heart, and the nasty scar on his chest confirmed it. Know this: very few species ever use liquid-state energy sources, but none in the galaxy create it. Terran magic looks and feels so stable that focused right it could be a formidable weapon. Every human is or will be turning into terrans, with the same power level, in the next four years by their math estimates. Limited energy, unlimited uses. I read before that humans have powerful imaginations. They could do almost anything they dream about, beneficial or threatening, that be another reason for the Red Flag. I received clearance for more visitation rights to Terra Firma and will be sending reports until the job is done. Once the station on the moon is repaired, the techs, Jaruka, and I will all be pitching in to gather every single shred of information from the planet below. Do the job until it ends. Something about this cries for attention. I took another sip of tea and looked up at pictures on my wall. I was able to keep pictures from Terra Firma before I sent them, all within the winery and the city of Temecula. One picture was the guards standing near the wine production warehouse. Ketho had acted the same since we landed and left, but Tigap changed quite a bit and enjoyed talking to the Walsh family whenever he could. There were even more pictures of the grapevines, the warehouse, the storefront, and some places in the city that I was permitted to visit, with a DNA mask on of course. I was unable to witness a terran transformation, but Jaruka could can send video of that in the future. The picture I pride over all is the crew. The night before I left, New Years Eve for Terra Firma, I had Scott, Katie, the totems, and Jaruka stand together. The party had just finished and I did not mind the used glasses scattered around the lit patio. The totems and terrans looked happy, but Jaruka was not so enthusiastic. Titan Spires, massive orbital A.I. cannons, and there were dozens of them. They were a contingency plan, in case the primitive culture escaped the planet. If they did the spires would activate and eradicate two-thirds of the total population and set natural evolution back ten thousand years. The idea is horrifying, considering that I adore the terrans, Katie and Scott, but even worse is Jaruka Teal whose death also activates the spires. And none more so, the massive impact on his people and Viro itself from what I can gather with little research. Denverbay is treating Jaruka like a human tolerance test. Now I understand why Jaruka hates Denverbay so much. Everything is on the line for the Halcunac: his freedom, his home planet, and Terra Firma¡¯s future. Some argue that Denverbay is doing this for the sake of the Republic, but at what cost? And that is why people must know about it. Only a few people knows about my father¡¯s secret for success. My father, the original Xi¡¯Tra Zader Khu, had connections with underground freedom of information sites. He called it the purest form of journalism, for support, for community. ¡°We¡¯re in this together¡± was his motto. I support my father¡¯s beliefs, separate but in one galaxy. So as you read this and the attached interviews and photographs, I am taking a huge risk in my career. I might be assassinated, but the information is out there. It might be discredited by Council members, corrupt politicians and journalists, but it¡¯s out there. The Council will do whatever they can to silence their cries, but there is a chance for the Republic and its citizens to listen, and listen well. I¡¯m not asking for anybody to go straight to Terra Firma blind. I want anybody that reads this to prepare. These humans and terrans need help, a lot of help. All we can do now is sit back, prepare, and wait for the right moment. These stories need to be shared, the galaxy must know. Just be sure to keep quiet about it.