u/johneever1

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP setting which has been so fun to write in these last few years. And a special thanks to u/julianSkies for all the help.
 
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Memory transcription 

Subject Name: Brecken 

Species: krakotl 

Job: leader of extremist group “The Black Wing”

Location: human colony, Liberty's Bastion

Date [standardized human time]:  February 1st, 2148

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“Miss I don't mean to be rude but, you seem to be taking us on a tour of the building at this point. Are we almost there yet?”

Merrill asks just as we turn another corner and head down a different identical generic hallway. With the same black carpet, light blue walls, white lights and tacky modern art as the others. Despite the initial animosity up on the balcony, the blonde haired Matilda answers him in what can only be described as a serious yet genuine tone. 

“Yes we are, I apologize for taking the long way. But this particular route ensures very few even catch a passing glimpse of us going to him. I hope that you all understand.”

“We do.” I speak up and answer on behalf of Merrill. While at the same time shooting him a wordless glare, telling the man to be fucking be quiet. I see his tail feathers stiffen in response and he does just that. Which is good, because what I can only surmise to be our destination is rapidly approaching. At the end of this hallway stands two very large and heavily armed human guards covering a particular door. As we near them the duo step aside. Allowing Matilda to use a key card to open it and ushers us inside. 

The first thing that strikes me upon entering is the warm yellowish orange glow over everything. Then how the wall opposite us is of a light red color. Meanwhile the other three are dark green, with yet more tacky corporate approved modern art hanging on each one. Against one of the green walls is a nondescript small bar. In the middle of the room are two sleek black leather couches, between which stands a low wood topped table with wrought iron legs. On the table rests a large, varied and hardly touched omnivore oriented charcuterie board. With a wide selection of fruits, crackers and meats on display.

Sitting on the couch facing us is Charles with a reserved politician smile. Jacket missing and tie already pulled loose. left leg casually resting over the right, and arms stretch out along the back of the sofa. Behind the couch to his right stands another guard, this one a shorter furred guy or gal with a long snout and horns from a species I don't immediately recognize. Though given their presence here, I can hazard a guess that they're an omnivore. After shutting the door behind us, Matilda makes her way behind Charles and takes up position on the left side of him.

Despite that smile's best efforts to deceive, it's clear Charles is not happy right now. “Mr Raven, it's an honor to finally meet you in the flesh.” I nod my head and signal for Kilroy and Merrill to stand behind the couch directly in front of us. Then while moving around to the front of it I respond to his greeting as if it's genuine. 

“Likewise Cicero, likewise. It's an honor to finally meet you as well.” Resting my tail feathers on the sofa I get comfortable. Pulling out another one of my cigarettes and not even asking to light up. While the smoke from my first hit is rising from around the edges of my upper mandible. I point to the charcuterie board with my right wing.

“I haven't eaten anything since landing, may I?”

His eye twitches but he doesn't snap. Instead simply waving his hand across the food. “Of course, be my guest.”

“Thank you, you're too kind my friend.”

Briefly I put my cigarette down on the edge of a convenient astray. Then with both wings now free, pick up an apple slice along with a thin piece of some kind of meat. Breaking off a small morsel of each, I swiftly throw them both into my beak. Whilst swallowing I take my time to really appreciate the apple’s bitterness coupled with the savouriness of what's undoubtedly cured turkey. 

This act causes Charles to momentarily smile in a way that seems genuine, but only briefly. His dark eyes looking directly into my black soul as I pick my cigarette up and take a follow up hit. “So you have gotten the ‘cure’ reversed. Looks like tonight when word spreads a few people are going to be collecting on some bets.”

I shake my beak negatively. “Sadly I doubt it, those people can only win their little bets when there's evidence they're right. Something that will be scarce, should I get what I want and leave quickly.”

Charles ever so slightly nods his head while snapping the thumb and pointer finger of his right hand together. Instantly and without question, the furred guard goes over to the bar. He pulls out a flawless crystal glass. Deposits into it two square ice cubes then fills the cup up with amber colored booze. Once finished he comes over and places the drink in Charles' now open palm. The man across from me takes his time to take a sip before continuing our back-and-forth.

“Just so there's no misunderstandings, I'm happy to have finally met you in person. I really am, as you know I've wanted this face to beak for a while. Hell I practically begged for this back during the initial negotiations. But there were better ways to do it than this my guy. If our rumored connection to your group was to ever be substantiated. It would cause us significant harm. You put a lot of good things in jeopardy with this little stunt.”

I had to talk to you quickly.”

“I would have made time.”

“I need to surprise you to avoid practiced politician responses.”

Now that causes him to grip that glass a little tighter. “What do you want?”

“Tradil.”

He was going for another sip, however stops mid movement and asks. “The kolshian from the negotiations?”

“Yes.” I narrow my eyes as I say that and put out my spent cigarette.

“Forgive me but, how does this involve us? That 's one of your guys, not ours.”

 After he and I had a recent falling out he ran here, to you lot.”

“We're present on a lot of planets, he could have come here for anybody out of what? I think the last count was about five hundred million on this rock.” 

“One of my informants told me they spotted him in the company of your people.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Who told you this?”

“I'm not saying.”

“Then, how am I to know if what you're saying is true?  For all I know you could be making this person up, or they're lying to you.”

You son of a whore! First, you have the gall to call me a liar. And now you're insinuating that I don't vet the information I get properly! You're definitely hiding him.

“Because when it comes to the kid, things are too important to lie about. You guys have him somewhere or at least know where he is. Now, I don't know what he's told you, but I'm not a threat to him. I simply want to make sure he's okay. But I will become a threat to anybody who stands in my way.”

At that the human narrows his eyes and gets a lot more serious. Finishing off his drink, he places the empty glass on the table directly opposite the ashtray. Charles then leans forward getting closer to me. The new position, casting half his face in shadows. “You know Raven, it's quite rude to drop by unannounced and start making accusations and threats. Especially towards a high ranking member of a group who's currently an ally, someone who could become a real problem for you if pushed into the role of an adversary.”

I scoff and nearly laugh while leaning forward myself.  Close enough that my beak's slightly curved tip is merely [3 inches] from his lips. “Adversary? Please, I could have your whole organization decapitated before the end of the week if I wanted… it's you who should be worried about us. Not the other way around. Now tell me, where is he?”

Before here or I can say anything else. I hear Kilroy almost shout while saying “sir!”. It's slightly delayed but nearly at the same time, his assistant Matilda cries “Charles!” Then the two of them quickly round the couches and intervene. Kilroy grabbing me by the shoulder and in a now very worried tone telling me. “We need to talk now, corner please.” At the same time Matilda, while holding his hand tells Charles, “We need to talk about what just happened.” I glare at Kilroy in anger and annoyance only to find Kilroy staring back pleadingly. Then look across the table and see my opponent going through a very similar situation with his subordinate. The two of us lock eyes and I quickly ask. 

“Take five?”

He's reluctant but then answers. “Sure… take five.”

I then get up and let Kilroy lead me over to one of the room's corners. That way we can talk a little bit more privately while remaining in this small space. Getting on his knee so we're roughly at eye level. He begins speaking, careful to keep his voice low so as to not be easily overheard.

“What the fuck was that sir?!”

“I'm negotiating with that stubborn prick. Got him backed into a corner.”

“That was not negotiating, that was brinkmanship bringing us extremely close to a fight with what should be an ally.”

“Are they still an ally when they're hiding the kid from me?”

“We don't know that for certain yet sir… from his responses, I don't think Charles nor anybody else in the league's leadership have anything to do with it. After all, why would they risk our partnership over a single individual? No, I think it's people lower down the totem pole, who are working with the kid. However we aren't going to find the truth if you pick an unnecessary fight Sir. I understand the kids' safety concerns you, but don't let that cloud your judgment. You're normally a lot smarter than this childish headbutting crap Brecken.”

I want to say something to the contrary, but find myself unable to do so. Because I have a feeling he's right. I'm still extremely furious. However, most of it is directed towards myself now. Looking at Kilroy, I very reluctantly tell him. “ Thank you for intervening in this specific moment, but don't make it a habit. Got that?”

He breathes a sigh of relief and says. “ Yes sir. Thank you for listening.”

After flattening my ruffled feathers. We then make our way out of the corner and back towards the couch. Just as we arrive it seems Matilda and Charles are just finishing up their own little talk. He's visibly frustrated and pissed off as she walks away. In a display of that fury he slams his left fist down on the table, causing everything to violently shake. With everyone back in position we eventually continue. I start us off by saying “I think things got a little bit heated right there.”

“Agreed.” Charles says while flexing the hand he just slammed on the table. No doubt trying to get the stinging to stop. After snapping his right hand again for another drink, he continues. “I'm sorry for trying to push you to divulge whoever your person is. I for a fact know that in your position I wouldn't do that, so it was wrong for me to expect you to do so.”

Surprised, I reciprocate his apology with one of my own. “I'm sorry for threatening you and your organization. I should never have escalated to something like that. Let alone how quickly I did. I'm just very concerned for the kids' safety.”

“He means a lot to you, doesn't he?”

“More than anybody else living.”

Charles nods understandingly while accepting his second drink. He places it down upon the table next to the first empty glass and picks up an odd piece of fruit.  “So without divulging your source, can you tell me who exactly was he seen in the company of?”

Pulling out my data pad from its pouch. I bring up a picture that Paul took. It's of Tradil conversing with a human male and harchen female.

“Stanislaw Zitka and Konida. Both of them are card carrying members of the league.”

Upon seeing their faces and hearing the names. Charles stops preparing the fruit he was working on peeling and instead puts it back down on the table. 

“That complicates things… but it also makes it a lot easier in a way.”

“How so?”

“Given that you're all about shadowshit and intel gathering, you've no doubt heard about the Scorned Brotherhood.”

Oh so that's where this is going… Okay.

“Yeah, they're an offshoot from you. Open extremists that you've very publicly kicked out for wanting to be more aggressive in their… tactics.”

“Yup, sadly as you can imagine they've got some holdouts within our midst. Individuals who pretend to be conforming to our public code. But secretly recruit for their terrorist ranks. Those two are on our watchlist as potential spies. Meaning that while it does simplify our situation, as it's not us helping that kid avoid you and do whatever he's doing. There's still the problem of the fact he's gotten involved in a very violent group, one that just loves mass casualty events for as they would put it… Retribution for what the herbivores and their collaborators continue to do.” as he says the last bit, he does it in a very mocking tone before scoffing “Bastards can't realize that by doing what they do, they bring us down to our enemy's level. You must never do that publicly. Plus as we've agreed, if you're going to take anybody in the opposition out, go for the leadership. And do it in a way that doesn't create a martyr.”

Without hesitation, I nod in agreement with that sentiment. “My contact only briefly saw him in the company of these people… they were unable to follow. Do you know where they are?”

“Not off the top of my head.  But I'll make some calls and we'll find out in about [20 to 30 minutes].”

As he begins making those calls, I try to relax as best I can despite the new troubling information.

You ran off to a group that is known for legitimate mass terrorism, not assassinations like us. What are you up to kid? What is your ultimate game plan? 

<jumping a little bit forward in the sequence>

As he gets off another call, Charles looks directly at me.

“Okay so as of this moment we know Zitka's location. He's currently chilling at a park on the north side of the city.  But we don't have a clue where the harchen bitch has scurried off to. The people I let in on what's happening theorize she's at the local brotherhood's hidden safe house. To get to her and hopefully by extension your guy. My people are recommending we go through Zitka and confront him with the evidence. That should make him squeal in exchange for not slowly breaking every bone in his cowardly body with ball peen hammers.”

“Sounds like a reasonable plan to me.” 

“I'm glad that you agree, I've already got people heading out to confront the prick.”

“Do you mind if we go and lend a wing?”

I can see it in his eyes as he visibly weighs the pros and cons of my request. He then sighs again and says. “That should be fine, there's always a lot more plausible deniability when it comes to the actions of lower rank members after all. I'll have a self driving car out back made available for you to use. Good luck in finding Tradil… Brecken. Hopefully we can meet again sometime under better circumstances.”

Getting up, I extend one of my wings towards him and he grips it for a quick shake. “Thankfully because our personnel stepped in and kept things from going antimatter, that's a possibility. Once this current matter is resolved. I would love to organize a much nicer meeting at another date, Charles.”

Wordlessly with body language he reaffirms the feeling is mutual. I then depart the green room and head directly for that car he's arranged for us. 

(End of part)

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[beginning of privateers] 

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP setting which has been so fun to write in these last few years. And a special thanks to u/julianSkies for all the help.
 
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 [Brecken last chapter] [Brecken next chapter]

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Memory transcription 

Subject Name: Brecken 

Species: krakotl 

Job: leader of extremist group “The Black Wing”

Location: human colony, Liberty's Bastion

Date [standardized human time]:  February 1st, 2148

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In the distance, overlooking the landing pads is a tall flagpole. Upon which are three large banners gently flapping in the early morning breeze. At the top is the infamous UN blue and white. Below that is the colony's colors, followed by the local provincial flag at the bottom. All of them have clearly seen better days. Their extremely frayed edges and faded colors attesting to that fact. Then again you can say that about this whole wretched spaceport in general. With the already outdated architecture and abysmal maintenance clear as day. All of it only being marginally concealed by the landlord special they're pulling here... But can it really be said there were better days when something was built less than [8 years ago] and was an afterthought even then? 

“Which one do you think we'll get?”

Merrill asks while leaning against the portside's open airlock door. At the moment he's covertly using a data pad’s built in camera to get a better look across the tarmac. His lens focused on a group of what has to be the port's only customs officers. The trio stand gathered in the shade of the main building, just casually chatting away.

Certainly taking their sweet ass time. Then again they're probably intentionally waiting to give us extra time to prepare a bribe. 

In response to his question I simply shrug, before sliding a steel floor panel out of the way and exposing the shuttles smugglers passageway. I then drop down inside and begin rummaging around for something to use for the inevitable bribe. “Given the rumors that 9 out of 10 people working here are dirtier than a human's thoughts.” From above I hear Kilroy grumble “Hey” In response. “ You know I'm right, anyway I don't think it matters too much which one of them is sent our way. Just so long as they take whatever we bribe them with and fuck right off. That being said. Merrill, while I'm down here I need you to keep watch and tell me the [second] one of them starts coming our way. That way, I'm out of here before they arrive. I don't want them seeing everything we have and treating it like an all you can eat buffet.”

“Roger that sir…” even though I can't see him, I know Merrill dutifully continues to keep watch. Meanwhile Kilroy leans their head down in here. His eyes looking about taking in the wide variety of random stuff. Some of it legal, most of it not so much. Especially not without having paid the proper duties and taxes.

“My vote is for alcohol… unless they're Mormon, Muslim or simply don't drink, it's a safe bet. Plus it's a lot less likely to make them concerned like a half [kilo] of one of the drugs would.”

“Those are some strong points… but I don't know. In general governments normally don't pay their lower level workers super well, especially not in a rural backwater like this. Perhaps giving them precious metals would be better.”

I cast my gaze to three white bags leaning against a wall containing platinum, gold and silver doubloons from the Confederacy. Each one a troy ounce of their respective metal. While they wouldn't be accepted as ‘currency’ per se, the metal's intrinsic value means it can be traded on that merit alone. 

Reaching over I grab the smallest sack and drag it towards me. Opening it up, I fish a coin out in order to inspect it. The one I happen to get is made of platinum. On the front is a side profile of Henry Morgan, with the date of the coins minting in human arabic numerals directly below where his neck ends. Surrounding him is the phrase “Henry Morgan, first President of the Confederacy” repeated over and over again in different languages all the way out to the very edge of the coin. The standardized krakotl script translation is located in the fourth row out behind his head.  Flipping it over reveals a depiction of their primary world of Libertalia with the capitol ship floating above it.

I have faith y'all can still overcome your current problems.

While still inspecting the coin I hear from above. “Brecken you better hurry… it looks like one of them is finally coming over.”

Without delay I throw the coin back into the bag and pass the canvas sack up to Kilroy who takes it. Just as I'm about to leave though, I take one last look at the various alcohol bottles and decide on the fly. 

Better to already have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. Thus I grab a couple bottles of ‘Taste of Aafa’ before getting out of the smugglers passage and closing everything back up. 

With haste, I place the bottles next to the coins on the central couch, then join the others waiting just outside the airlock. By now the customs officer is about halfway halfway to us. Close enough that Merrill has put away his data pad. 

It's a human, obviously, wearing dark sun glasses and a crossbody bag over his uniform. He's short with light skin similar to Kilroy’s. Unlike Kilroy he got hair on top of his head instead of just around his mouth and cheeks.. Though the hair on the approaching human's face is clearly not supposed to be there, given it's in the form of a bad five-o’clock shadow. His uniform… Just like everything here has seen better days. Sure to most people it probably looks fine. But for a government customs officer to be missing a button on the right cuff. Along with some minor visible stains and the light blue uniform being overall faded. That's usually not tolerated anywhere. 

They're supposed to be the embodiment of the government authority for whose territory you're trying to enter. So being messy doesn't make a good first impression. It hints at a man who doesn't care as much as he should. And a local chain of command that doesn't care to enforce uniform standards. And if they aren't even enforcing something so simple as uniform standards, it means they're probably derelict in a lot more of their duties. More evidence that we came to the right place.

As he ascends the ramp Kilroy, Merrill, Aleksandr and I wait patiently. It's only once he's standing directly before us that the human customs officer speaks for the first time. His voice is deep, but it has a strained edge to it. “Let's get this over with, I'm customs inspector Cunningham… manifest? And reason for being here?”

I look to Kilroy who swiftly sends over the fake manifest file to the office's data pad. Cunningham then begins half-heartedly skimming through it. As he's doing that I answer his second question. 

“Just visiting some friends sir…”

“Good… well everything's looking like it's in order, just one last thing I need from you.”

“What would that be?” I ask as we begin the delicate back and forth dance that is testing one another out for if they're dirty without exactly saying it.

“Your… fuck it, I'm far too hungover from last night for this game. What do you intend to bribe me with so I don't properly search this ship.”

Oh… never mind the dance, he's straight to the point.

“Kilroy, get the booze.”

As Kilroy goes to get it I tell the visibly intrigued officer. 

“It's good that you drink sir. We've got a couple of lovely, extremely hard to get bottles of kolshain liquor just for you. Made using fermented kelp and Aafa ocean water. The particular bottles I've got are from pre war, so they're made with resources directly from their now locked off homeworld. Not the approximated crap you find nowadays on the market.”

Kilroy comes up and hands me the bottles which I pass to the officer. He takes the bottles and looks them over. Then says “Very nice…” before placing them into his bag. “that covers the inspection. Just to let you know, so that way things still look legit. I'm still gonna require that you pay the normal fees for landing and taking up space while you're here.” 

“Of course… oh you didn't mention it but could you also not use our real names on the official books.”

“That's a big thing to ask… Do you have something more to offer for that service?”

I nod my head and once again turn to Kilroy. He then collects the bag of coins from the couch and brings it over. Opening it up, I get a few out and put them into the outstretched hand of the human officer. 

“Precious metal coins from the Confederacy. While you can't use them as currency here, the metals themselves are still valuable. It should be fairly easy to sell them off for a decent price at a later date.” 

He feels the weight of the coins I just gave him in his hand. “A couple more handfuls of these should be enough.”

I signal Kilroy who then does give him a couple more handfuls, each one disappearing into the satchel. Cunningham then closes up the bag and tells us. 

“Welcome to Liberty's Bastion Mr Griffin, Fowler, Smith and Taylor. I hope you all enjoy your stay.” he then promptly turns around and fucks off, walking back down the ramp and across the tarmac. We hold our position for a couple [minutes] until he's safely out of human hearing range.

“Well that went pretty well…” Kilroy says while walking back inside and putting the bag still containing 2/3 of its original contents onto the table.

In response I let out a sigh “Got to love corruption… now Aleksandr.”

“Yes sir” the pilot says. 

“Before I forget while we're gone, I want you to make arrangements to buy more fuel for the shuttle and stock back up on food. And I want you to do it fast. There's no telling how quickly we'll need to get out of here once we're back. got it?”

“You got it boss.”

“As for you two.” I then point at Merrill and Kilroy. “ As planned you're coming with me to go talk with our friend Charles.

Merrill nods his beak affirmatively, while Kilroy audibly confirms it with a “Yes sir.” hey, then quickly follows up the confirmation with an inquiry. “ What weapons should we bring?”

“The standard stuff should be fine… just be ready to hand over any guns at the door when asked.”

Both of them look a little bit uneasy concerning that last bit about disarming once we get there. But neither one objects and simply accepts what's going to happen. 

“Now let's call up one of the in atmosphere shuttles, and get moving, shall we.”

<Brief time jump>

As the shuttle zips across the landscape, high above a continent before then shooting out across an ocean. Its driver cannot help but try and strike up a conversation.

“So what brings you guys to Liberty's Bastion?”

Merrill and Kilroy both looked to me to answer that question, which I do. “We're here to conduct some business, we'll probably be leaving not long after that.”

“Classic business trip. Still that's a shame, Liberty's Bastion has a lot of fun stuff to see and do. But if you're here for only a short period of time, I guess you can't help it.”

Kilroy then takes over the conversation by asking. “We still have to eat while we're here, are there any places you'd specifically recommend?”

“Hell yeah, in Knox City I definitely recommend this little place on the corner of second street and fourth avenue. It makes bomb mac and cheese and…”

As the two of them casually chat about food, I just stare out the window at the deep blue ocean far below flying past at a brisk (3000 feet per second). At such speeds, the flat horizon is eventually broken by a wing full of tall buildings that rapidly start poking up out of the sea before a shoreline base emerges. As we get closer, the city's bland details become more pronounced. Details such as the fact that it's a very standard colonial city, with a standard grid layout and standard broad avenues. The buildings are as copy pasted as the streets. With what looks like only a dozen styles max of each type of building reused over and over again across the landscape. 

But I don't hold it against the place, it was only founded a little over [10 years] ago after all. At this stage, in its development, the name of the game is just growing the population and infrastructure. It's a phase that every colony goes through. Like with them, it'll probably take at least a few generations to slowly replace the mass-manufactured structures with more unique buildings and different styles, which should eventually give the city a soul beyond its current boxy utilitarian look. 

By the time I finished my little internal monologue. Our pilot has slowed down considerably, expertly bringing the shuttle in for a landing on top of one of the taller structures. When the door is open we each give a quick pleasant Thank you, and Goodbye. I then pay our bill, leave a tip before departing.

We then quickly cross the landing pad, get in the elevator and ride it down to the main floor. Swiftly move across the building's lobby and emerge onto the street where we begin heading north towards our ultimate destination. 

As the three of us make our way down the congested sidewalk, I'm able to take in the city from a ground level perspective. While Knox City is still very much comprised of utilitarian structures. The human pension for art has made it a little more unique than upon first glance. Many otherwise bland buildings support painted murals, depicting one thing or another. This detail elevates the fledgling colony's visual landscape above what you would find in new colonies for other species. Now that I really think about it, it's not something unique to just this city or colony… I've seen something similar done in the other newly built human colonies I've passed through over the [years].“ It's certainly different.”

This catches the attention of Merrill on my left, who asks “What is Hatchel?”

“Something I've just noticed concerning human colonies, the sheer amount of public art and how varied it is. It's quite impressive.”

Merrill quickly interjects “Our colonies have art as well.”

“Yes, but those are usually older, more well developed colonies. For example, you're home of Harlan. Usually brand new worlds like this stay devoid of art for quite a while. At least that's what I noticed in my [years] of traveling.” feeling a little bit awkward I then ask "Did you ever travel abroad before the humans, maybe visit other places?”

Merrill looks away and shakes his beak. “Not really, after the feds took my sister to that damn facility. I didn't want to go too far. After she died from their mistreatment, I didn't really have a desire to explore. The first time I left that system was after the fall of Harlan to the privateers. Truthfully I haven't been back since.”

I am such a daft cloaca sometimes.

As sympathetically as possible, I apologize to him “I'm sorry, didn't mean to reopen wounds.”

“It's alright sir… given your observation, I imagine you got to travel?”

You unintentionally opened one of his wounds, only fair if you share from one of yours.

“When I was in the Alliance Navy, I got to see some pretty interesting places around the arm. Mostly alliance worlds, but there were a few others I got to visit.”

Kilroy then interjects. “A navy man… I felt there was a slight military edge too you sir ”

“Yeah… given everything I know now, it's not a time in my life that I look back on fondly.” I then briefly go quiet before getting us back on track. "Why do you think human colonies tend to have more art at an earlier stage, Kilroy?”

The human takes a moment to think about that as his eyes scan over some of the murals within sight. “Hmmmm… I think it could be a number of factors. But mostly boils down to the fact that we entered everything late. We don't have centuries of baggage and social engineering that we have to unlearn. Like, I would imagine the colonies you saw in a similar stage of development were back during the federation era correct.”

“Indeed.”

“Given the war was going on and colonies were frequently getting wiped out. It probably didn't help for the development of art, why beautify a new colony when it might get antimatter bombed tomorrow. Plus with the federation prioritizing, making kids into soldiers rather than artists… I can see how just those two factors alone can lead to societies with less abundance of art.”

I look at Merrill “Do you have anything to counter that with? Because I currently got nothing ” 

“Nope, it seems pretty logical to me.”

Kilroy then continues. “Luckily though, it doesn't seem permanent… in my time I have visited some of the new venlil, gojid and krakotl worlds. They have started to employ a little bit more public art in their newer endeavors. It might take some time to bring out, but I think the artist's spirit in the rest of you guys is still there.”

Kilroy smiles, just as we turn a final corner and arrive at the auditorium.  Stepping inside the rather plain lobby, we're instantly greeted by three members of the league's paramilitary security forces. “Sorry for the interruption. But before we can allow you any further we must check ya for weapons. And if you have any, they must be temporarily handed over while you're here.” The one in the middle says. I nod my beak affirmatively. “Of course. Do you want us to hand the weapons here or is there a desk we can check them in at?”

After I confirm that we are indeed armed. The trio before us gets a little more serious, now preemptively resting their hands on their holstered weapons. The lead one motions for us to follow and we oblige. Heading over to a special corner that has a table and a safe behind it. 

“Put your weapons on the table and we'll write you a ticket to collect them after.”

With that I look to Kilroy and Merrill to do as told. Despite still looking hesitant, they do so. Laying their pistols, extra mags and knife on the table. I do the same lifting my wing and carefully pulling out my gun and putting it on the table followed by my three extra mags. Security is pretty patient as we disarm. Though they do, give me and Merrill a look when we don't pull out a knife. 

Obviously unlike you guys, we don't need them that often. 

Once finished, one of them moves behind Kilroy and swiftly pats him down. Finding nothing more he moves on to Merrill and does the same. Then finally me, it goes off without a problem as none of us held anything. 

We're each then given a ticket with a number to collect our weapons afterwards. But just before going, I look to the human security guard who guided us through this and tell him. “Thank you, one last thing though.” 

“What is it?”

“If you or any of the other people listening would be so kind, I would like a message passed along up your chain of command.”

“I'll see what can be done… what's the message.”

“The raven is here and will be watching and waiting from the upper balcony.”
 
The human security guard looks confused. But off to the side, a human woman has a very different reaction to my message. She immediately tense up before swiftly going somewhere. The security guard then tells me. “I'll see what I can do sir?” 

Don't worry buddy it's already getting delivered.

“Thank you, that's all I ask.” We then depart the check in table, just as our weapons are placed in the safe and head up a flight of stairs. Passing by a few more stationed guards. The closer we get to the auditorium proper, the louder muffled voices and cheers become. When we reached the last doors, they're opened by a pair of final guards so we may slip in. 

Just as we enter, another great cheer erupts across the room at something that's just been said. Immediately it's clear that not a single one of the 4000 seats are available. So the three of us find a place along the wall on the upper balcony to stand and watch with the rest of those who don't have a seat. 

Given our late arrival Charles Dunham's speech is reaching what is obviously the climax. From behind the podium, the young [27-year-old] league council member is basking in the love of the crowd before him. His hazel eyes gazing out across the masses with conviction and purpose. Moving some of his longer hair to the side he continues.

“... My answer to them is this, no species can stand alone in the galaxy. The Federation proved that well enough, using its size and momentum to swallow up isolated species and force them to conform to its preferred reality. A pattern that seems to be repeating, if current events are anything to go by. We do not know what the future may hold, that is knowledge only privy to a higher being. But what we can do is hope for the best while preparing for the worst.”

More cheering rings out and Charles patiently waits for it to die down on its own before continuing. As he does so his sharp facial features morph into something more serious. 

“Despite this reasonable and measured stance, we have been consistently besmirched by state backed actors. By those who openly compare us to trash such as the Herbivore Militia, Humanity First or any other vile hate groups!”

At the very mention of those organizations, sounds of disgust ripple throughout the audience.

“But despite their best efforts. The truth is getting out there to the masses. We are nothing like those terrorists who seek domination of one species over the others. We wish to strengthen ties between all omnivore species. To stand strong together, and ensure our descendants will never know the same oppression and fear as we have for simply being what we are! We will never start a fight, but if one finds us we will stand tall and defend ourselves as is our God given right!”

Cheers erupt across the hall as various appendages clap or stop the ground. Charles smiles and fixes his hair again which got a little messy during that passionate bit. Once things settle down he continues. 

“Our ranks are growing but can always use more men and women for our just cause. If you truly support us and are up to the challenge, I implore you to either donate to the league. Or to sign up with our local chapter afterwards and become an official Omnivore League member. Let us all stand together, whether it be against the terrorists hiding in the shadows or the tyrants currently holding public office.”

As he walks away from the podium I look to Kilroy. “I see why this group exploded so rapidly. After everything that happened only about [10 years] ago, coupled with the slow social progress. Such a message certainly resonates with a lot of people.”

“Agreed… So how do you want to handle this?”

As people slowly begin to exit the hall, All three of us move into some newly empty seats. “It's already being taken care of, look.” 

Pulling out my pack of cigarettes I use it to point at the stage. Down below Charles is shaking the appendages of various omnivores and talking to a few of them. Suddenly the human woman I noticed earlier walks up to him and says something in his ear. He then carefully scans the upper balcony. 

Charles is initially confused. But the confusion quickly goes away when he looks directly at us. I wave my wing and place the cigarette between my mandibles and light up. He then says something to the woman who quickly scurries offstage.

As Charles continues on like nothing happened, it isn't long before she takes the seat next to us. “Given your reputation for what happens when you don't get your way, Charles is willing to talk. But we will be watching closely, if you do anything to him…”

“I don't plan to hurt Charles, all I want is some information on a very time-sensitive topic. I have it on good authority he either knows what I want or can quickly get the information. Once that's acquired I'm on my way.”

The human briefly looks around before returning her attention to us. “All right, follow me.”

As we get up, I make sure to tell her. “Just so there isn't any funny business. Since we gave up our weapons at the door, we're going to be keeping our communication devices. We have some people with particular orders to carry out, if they don't hear from us regularly.”

Without looking back at us she says. “Understood, I'll make sure that is relayed to the relevant people.” We then depart the upper balcony, heading for the backstage area.

(End of part)

[Prev] [First]  [Next]

[beginning of privateers] 

—----------------------------------------------------

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP setting which has been so fun to write in these last few years. And a special thanks to u/julianSkies for all the help.
 
—----------------------------------------------------

 [Brecken last chapter] [Brecken next chapter]

—----------------------------------------------------

Memory transcription 

Subject Name: Brecken 

Species: krakotl 

Job: leader of extremist group “The Black Wing”

Location: sector 3 Blackwing command ship “Fowl Tidings”

Date [standardized human time]: January 29th, 2148.

—----------------------------------------------------

“... Now hit 'em again Kilroy. But please avoid striking their head this time, we want information not a concussion.”

While currently being held up by Martín and Sarah. The dazed prisoner shakes said head, then spits out some of their teeth and azure colored blood onto the interrogation room's floor. “Rookie mistake… predators.” He then momentarily pauses to spit out a little more blood before continues on with his shit. “Then again expecting intelligence from a rabid misshapen ape is laughably naive, even for a predator you should really know better.” following this he smiles, exposing the missing gaps where those now scattered teeth came from.

Kilroy for his part just looks down upon the prisoner and returns the smiles with one of his own. He's completely unfazed and unbothered by the insult. “Shit talking while in the process of getting your ass whooped… bold strategy, let's see how that works for ya.” After a brief pause to reposition his brass knuckles he does as ordered and this time punches the gojid squarely in the stomach. The prickly bastard's head instantly drops and he starts violently coughing while attempting to catch his breath. Unfortunately for the gojid that punch is not in isolation, quickly followed up by even more rapid fire strikes across the guy's midsection. As the shadow caste trash before me is beaten into submission, my mind and heart and thoughts just aren't in it today. Most of the time seeing filth such as him in a position like this would be cathartic and entertaining. However, right now my thoughts are too consumed by something else a lot more personal to find joy in this moment. 

Kid where are you… it's been a [week], a fucking week without a single peep or chirp. Are my men just incompetent? No, that's too harsh on them. Why did you have to be such a good student?

Despite being distraught over not knowing where he is. I can't help but feel a tinge of happiness remembering those training sessions together. Sadly, that instantly evaporates upon looking back at the guy still holding out on us. Annoyed at his stubborn resolve, I tell Kilroy.

“I'm growing tired of this. If he doesn't tell us in [83 seconds], stomp his right leg and break it.”

After that order is given. I can see the lurking Merrill in the back corner getting excited… his usual weird excitement. “Looks like this is about to finally get interesting.”

With a sigh I say. “Merrill I can see and hear you back there, please keep it in your pants. This is a serious interrogation, not one of your… play sessions. ” At that he straightens up and shrugs.

“I have no idea what you're talking about sir.”

“Sure you don't… Just stay professional, that's all I ask.” With Merrill’s leash now tightened, I quietly wait for our guest to either physically or mentally break. Whichever comes first I don't really care. But while doing so, once again my mind drifts. This time to a memory with the kid.

<[Minor interrupting memory]>

“So what are we doing Bre… I mean Hatchel?”

Good he remembered to use my current cover name while we're in public. He's already improving since the coffee shop yesterday.

While leaning back on the park bench and appreciating the warm sun on my scarlet feathers, I tell him again. “We're doing field training. Didn't I tell you that before we even came here?”

“You did, but I thought we were going to do something productive. Instead ever since we got here we've just sat on this bench. How is sitting in a random park doing nothing training?”

“To do the first job you're to be tasked with, reconnaissance and surveillance. You must learn how to passively assess and monitor things, without looking like you're trying to do that.”

He takes that explanation and mulls it over for a moment before responding. “So we're people watching as a way of training?”

“You hit the nail on the head… It's a low stakes and safe way to practice and hone your observation skills. Unlike a real mission, if you fail to stay under the radar here, the most you risk is getting called a creep and slapped by somebody.” I bring my wing up to the right side of my face while suppressing the memory of that particular fumble.

The kid nods his head signaling that he's following along. While I doubt everything is truly sinking in, he's probably picking up a decent amount

“This next bit is a little advanced, but I want to make you aware of this angle now so you're ready for it later. Something else to keep in the back of your mind is that, beyond the target you're tasked with. Is that ya never know what you might overhear or notice that could become crucial or valuable later. Or what can happen when you're not alert to your surroundings.” I then glance over at him. “Have you noticed our friends out here with us yet?”

“Friends… you mean like.” he then leans closer and whispers. “Black Wing operatives?” I nod affirmatively and this causes him to begin obviously looking around. 

I softly chuckle. “I take that as a no… well they've certainly noticed you and me already. Check your jacket's right breast pocket.”

His face betrays confusion as one of his tentacles slips into said pocket. Quickly it morphs into astonishment as he gasps. “Where's my mini data pad?!”

Just as he says that. Zerth comes up from behind and taps him on the shoulder with the missing property. Tradil takes it and scans his fuzzy face and snout carefully. “Wait, aren't you the gojid I bumped into at the entrance?”

Zerth smiles and slightly turns to me. “The kid can remember faces he sees for only a mere moment. That's pretty promising, but he still has a lot to learn Brecken.”

I shrug. “We all have to start somewhere… good seeing you Zerth, thanks for swinging by to help emphasize my point.”

“Anytime Brecken… now I must get back to my work.” He then leans in a little bit closer so nobody else but I can hear him. “Later you might want to avoid taking Victory Lane back to y'alls safe house here. In [30 minutes] there's going to be an explosive incident which will no doubt delay traffic for [hours].”

“Understood, stay safe my friend.”

“Hatchel, look who you're talking to.”

With that Zerth walks off amidst the many scattered groupings of people moving about the various paths and green spaces. As he leaves Tradil keeps his eyes on him. “The way he was able to take my stuff without me noticing, then appear behind us was really damn cool. Do you truly think I'll be like that one day, able to seamlessly disappear into the background and move about.”

“With time and effort anything is possible… I have faith that one day you will become a great operative. May become greater at it than even me. But if that is to be the case we must get back to the training, so look around carefully. I want you to tell me who you think are the others out here with us today. Just so you know I can see all of them right now.”

The kid smiles widely before getting a lot more serious and carefully scanning the crowds around us. “I think…”

<[End of minor memory interruption]>

My reminiscing is then interrupted with a scream of.  “No no please don't!!!” Followed by an unintelligible scream amidst the crunch of bone and ripping flesh as the prisoner's right leg is just absolutely shattered underneath Kilroy's merciless boot. Kilroy then quickly shouts. “Let him go now!” The gojid is then callously dropped directly on the broken limb causing him to scream even more while collapsing into a crumpled heap.

Before anything further can happen I hear the door behind us open and Becker speak. “Brecken!”

“What is it Becker, can't you see we're in the middle of something. Our friend is about to finally tell us what we want to know, that is if he wants the pointless pain to stop. If he doesn't then well, I know Kilroy has been just dying to pull those quills out one by one. I'm just wondering where he'll stab them once…”

He then abruptly interrupts my intimidation efforts. “We finally have a lead on Tradil went.”

At those words I instantly turn and look at him. “Truly?” Becker in response just looks me dead in the eye and nods. I then point my right wing at Kilroy. “You've got this from here, within reason do whatever you have to to get the information.”

The human with a confident look reassures me. “I'll get the information sir, don't you worry. Go find out where the kid is.” He then turns his gaze down upon the gojid, who now is sporting a look of absolute terror at the process of being effectively at Kilroy's mercy. Without anything further I exit the room just as the gojid finally begins spilling the beans.

Standing in the otherwise empty corridor I immediately ask “What did you find?”

“That the kid is really good but not perfect… we followed the residual FTL trail to a couple of backwater planets. One of them where he traded the original shuttle for a different one. He then jumped around with that shuttle before eventually dumping it and booking passage aboard a starliner, one which interestingly enough, took him to Liberty's Bastion.”

At the mention of Liberty's Bastion I immediately bring up the obvious. “We sent him there a few [years] ago, right? He was part of a group tasked with setting up some connections with the growing League.”

“That is correct Brecken.”

“Do you think they got my boy… that they're housing him?”

“I don't know, the most we know is that he was last heading there. Given the past connection I don't think it's a coincidence.”

Pacing back and forth I just sort of blurt out.

“The one thing I still don't understand is why run? Was me kicking him out of the wing too much, did I overstep by saying he was under house arrest? It was just until I could finalize him leaving the Black Wing. After that, as long as he wasn't doing anything bad I wouldn't stop him from pursuing new horizons. For god sakes I would help him.”

Becker looks at me. “Me and some of the others have been wondering if he knew that fact and that's why he left. To get out from under our supervision. If the station incident is anything to go by, he might be starting to give in to some really dark urges Brecken.”

My feathers get ruffled at that statement but I don't lash out. Instead I take a breath and acknowledge the facts. “As uncomfortable as it is… we can't discount that possibility. Get a long distance travel shuttle ready, I'm heading out for Liberty's Bastion today. When we arrive we're going to meet with the local Omnivore League leadership. Because I also don't think it's a coincidence, I think he ran somewhere he has connections. I swear to God if they are hiding him from me… possibly enabling some depraved shit. It'll be war, end of story!”

By this point I'm almost shouting in Becker’s face causing him to put his wings on mine. “Calm down Brecken… I truly understand what you're feeling but we can't jump to conclusions. Go get your stuff, I'll tell Kilroy and Merrill that they are to accompany you as an entourage.”

“All right, all right I'll go get my stuff, good choice for my entourage. A human and another krakotl, both omnivores. that should avoid any unnecessary friction when meeting with the league, smart.”

“Just logical, do you want me to call ahead and let the league know you're coming?”

“Becker, you already know the answer… I don't want to give them time to prepare or potentially move him elsewhere. As far as anybody officially knows I'm still here on this ship until I say otherwise.”

Just before heading off to my cabin to get what I need. I stopped and let him know. “Given I'm going to be preoccupied for the foreseeable future. I need you to share whatever information we get from that.” I point at the interrogation room door. “With our yotul friends for me, okay.”

I don't even wait for the reply before I'm already turned back around and walking away.  As I'm going I hear Becker call out. “Of course Brecken.” It's his turn to pause briefly before then adding on at the very end. “Make sure our son is safe.” 

<<<[Jumping forward]>>>

<[Dream/ Memory sequence in progress]>

The previous world melts into a black tumultuous and shapeless space. Stretching on forever yet horrifically claustrophobic. Eventually things shift and start coming back into focus with a new world. Blobs become some distant trees. A fence around the perimeter, a far too familiar house in the background with other houses on either side. The more and more I start to recognize the new surroundings, the deeper the pit in my stomach feels. I begin frantically trying to force myself back to the land of living but am unable to.

 God's no! Please for the love of the Gods not this one again!

“Brecken, I need you to come inside.”

I hear mom calling for me from the house, but this, this is just too cool to ignore. There's this weird bug I just found in the backyard grass. With its stubby little legs, pink body and yellow wings. I've never seen anything like it before. Mom can wait for this…at least for a little bit. 

“Brecken, I'm not playing, come inside now.” Then another voice calls out, this time father's. “Listen to your mother Brecken and come back inside, we need to talk.”

At the mention of having a talk I begin to feel uneasy…what are they going to say I did wrong now?... I study the weird bug one last time and then tell it. “Goodbye Mr bug.” before getting up and sprinting back towards the house. As I'm running, I open my wings, feeling the air beneath them. Jokingly flapping a couple of times. I can feel myself on the cusp of liftoff, but just not quite there. 

I think I'm getting close to being able to take my first flight! I'm going to tell Dad about this!

Just before reaching the open back door, I close my wings in order to fit through the door. Excitedly, I look around the kitchen. “Mom, dad?” They then call for me from the living room. “We're here sweety.” 

As I head towards where they are I start to say. “Dad! My wings are really starting to fill out. I think I'm almost ready for my first… who are they?”

As I enter the living room, Mom and Dad are sitting on one couch. Across from them are two exterminators, both looking straight out of the exterminator show with all their stuff on. 

One of the exterminators looks at me through the visor and says. “Hey kiddo you must be Brecken.” The other one doesn't say anything, instead just glaring. 

“Mom… Dad… what's going on?”

For a moment there's silence and then Mom speaks. “It hurts me so much to say this out loud. But for a while now your father, I and others have noticed some troubling signs Brecken.”

“Like?” I ask while walking further into the room and closer to everybody.

She continues. “You've been… distant with a lot of people. Not wanting to socialize with almost anybody, preferring to mostly stick to yourself. That's…”

Dad interrupts her. “Its anti flock behavior, an undeniable sign of predator disease son.” At that the silent exterminator shakes his head in agreement and so does the friendlier one. 

All I can do is just stand there with my beak slightly open in shock. “I can't have predator disease? I'm nothing like the predators from the show.”

The friendlier exterminator gets up and takes a step towards me, which causes me to instinctively step back. “Son, predator disease is very broad. It can include over the top stuff like in the kids show, yes. But it also includes things like what you're suffering from. Thankfully by the sounds of it, your case is mild and was discovered early… so there's still hope with treatment.”

“There's nothing wrong with me… I'm just me?”

“It's okay kiddo… we're going to take you to a nice facility and they're going to treat and cure you. You're going to get better.”

He takes another step towards me and this time the meaner one gets up. I try to move further away from them but suddenly I'm grabbed from behind. 

Panicked, I move my head and see it's another exterminator. “Let me go! I'm not sick, I'm just a kid!” I begin to struggle as they cuff my wings.

From the couch mom tells me. “Brecken, sweety, please don't resist. They're here to help you.”

“Get off of me!” I scream as the three exterminators begin grabbing at different parts of my struggling body. Overwhelmed, I try to nip one of them with my beak. The mean one simply dodges and quickly tells the others. “He's a biter, get the strap.” My beak is then clamped shut with a rough strap, preventing me from saying anything else or screaming very loudly… I watch as the nicer one goes over to tell my parents. “I'm sorry you had to see that… but don't worry you did the right thing. He's young and has a good chance of cured.”

“We know… it's just hard to see…” that is all I get to hear before I'm dragged out of the house. Everything gets blurry through the tears, but I swear that half the neighborhood is standing outside of their homes. Watching as I'm dragged across the front yard and tossed into the back of a van. Landing on the cold steel floor with a hard thud. Whimpering and crying as the doors are shut and I'm left in complete darkness.

<[Dream/ Memory sequence ends]> 

Opening my eyes, I'm met with the cold steel gray of the bunk above me. Looking to my right into a built-in alcove containing my charging data pad, I see the date is currently. [February 1st, 2148; time 7:00 a.m.].

“Of all the times for those memories to begin slipping out of the vault again.” A little groggy I roll out of the bunk and start the day by doing a quick stretch before donning my belt, its accompanying shoulder strap and pouches. Then making sure my pistol is secure in its holster along with two spare mags. 

All three of which are neatly concealed beneath my resting wing when not in use. 

Once dressed and armed, I make my way out of the darkened sleeping compartment and into the shuttle's main area just behind the cockpit. Already sitting at the central table with food and drink before them is Kilroy and Merrill. 

Upon noticing me from the sleeping quarters the former calls out. “Good to see you back with the land of the living… how did ya sleep?”

I give him a ‘so so’ signal with my right wing. 

“That bad huh… I guessed as much with some of the things you were mumbling.”

At the realization I was talking in my sleep, I instantly looked at him with a borderline murderous glare. He then puts his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Don't worry sir, I won't speak a word of what I heard… I don't share others' private battles. It's your business, not the world's.”

My attention then turns to Merrill, who in response just shrugs while putting down his cup. “Given my proclivities, I'm well aware I live in a very thin glass house. Thus naturally I didn't hear shit.”

Those reassurances put me back at ease and so I dropped the matter. Going over to the small cooking area located on one of the shuttles far sides in order to get something to eat. As I gather some fresh fruits, nuts and bacon. I hear our pilot Aleksandr call back to us from the open cockpit door. 

“We have arrived in system and are currently heading for Liberty's Bastion. I'm already being told that once close enough to the planet, we are to enter a holding pattern and wait for further instructions. I'm estimating that it'll take about an [hour] for the NPSTC to give us the green light to descend for the spaceport we want. So sit back, relax and stay comfortable until then.”

Right after the pilot says that Merrill comments “That's a long ass time.”

Kilroy can't help but laugh and as a result almost chokes on a piece of pancake before swallowing it. **“**What did you expect? Being humanity's first colony outside of Sol means it's a fairly busy place. An hour wait time on an unscheduled flight anywhere is actually pretty damn good. I know if we were to try to go to Earth or any other species' home planet or even old colonies, we would be waiting for days.”  Kilroy's amusement gradually patters out, his mood slowly becoming neutral and then serious before asking me. 

“Brecken do you think the league really is harboring the kid? Do you really trust the informant's report?”

I shrugged while putting my plate on the table and sitting down with them. “She's never lied before… so I trust that she did in fact see the kid in the company of known League members [2 days] ago.”

“But that doesn't necessarily mean the League itself is involved.”

“You're right… but it still means we're going to talk to the league. Their members had contact with him so at least one of them knows something.”

Merrill then comes back into the conversation with. “What is the game plan with that by the way? Are we just going to walk up to some random members and start asking questions or?”

“No, I don't plan to fuck around with any middle men who could potentially give me the go-around. We're going straight to the top and speaking directly with the League's human council member. Charles Dunham is down there. He's currently in the middle of an annual fundraising and recruiting campaign across the colony.”

“Convenient.”

“Not really, or at least not as much as it may first appear. There's a decent amount of open support for the league on Liberty's Bastion, at least in comparison to anywhere on Earth. Even if he wasn't doing a fundraising drive he would still probably be here. Just a little harder to access. But back to the matter at claw… yesterday I was doing some research and found he's doing a speech today at an auditorium in one of the medium sized cities in the planet's southern hemisphere. My plan is we swing by on the latter half of the speech and then talk to him afterwards.”

“How are you so sure he'll want to talk to us?”

“Because I'm here in person… He knows for a fact I don't personally show up anywhere unless it's serious. I wasn't even there in person when our secret connections to the league were finalized. If he's going to want to keep it a secret, then me and him are going to quietly talk so I get the hell out of here.”

“Using your very presence as leverage to get them to talk. I can get behind that plan.” Merrill then slices a piece of apple and eats. 

Kilroy adds. “I just hope this doesn't end in a war… I think us and the league have a lot more to lose by fighting each other than our mutual enemies.”

“If they're hiding the kid from me we have a serious problem. If they're enabling anything remotely like what happened on that station, then they're my enemy just as much as everyone else and will be treated accordingly.” I then rip off a piece of bacon between my mandibles and swallow it. Resigning myself to calmly waiting for the [hour] to pass so we can land and get to work.

(End of part)

[Prev] [First]  [Next]

[beginning of privateers] 

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP setting which has been so fun to write in these last few years. And a special thanks to u/julianSkies for all the help.
 
—----------------------------------------------------

 [Brecken last chapter] [Brecken next chapter]

—----------------------------------------------------

Memory transcription 

Subject Name: Brecken 

Species: krakotl 

Job: leader of extremist group “The Black Wing”

Location: sector 3 Blackwing command ship “Fowl Tidings”

Date [standardized human time]: January 22th, 2148.

—----------------------------------------------------

“He’s on his way.” Becker then pauses before adding. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Is all I say before ending the call and sitting in a cushy parlor chair. In front of me stands a coffee table. Upon which rests my data pad next to an ashtray with a slowly burning cigarette perched on the edge.  The drawing room is nearly silent. Save for an analog clock on the far wall. Its sharp piercing ticks clicking on and on, one after the other audibly dominate the space. Whilst waiting I can't help but wonder.

“How did things come to this?”

<[Minor interrupting memory]>

The sky above is a brilliant shade of light blue with nary a cloud or craft in sight**.** Up there it's peaceful and quiet, quite the opposite to the situation here on the ground. 

“Now that we're out of there, in your words Tradil what happened?”

I ask the young man as we are leaving the second school he's been expelled from in [3 months]. Despite our age differences, he's already at my height and easily beats me in weight. Tradil turns to me, his facial features filled with anger. He opens his mouth intending to yell. But before he can I shoot him the look and he pauses. We then briefly stop and I make an up motion with my wing to take a breath in and let it out. He does that and then speaks just as we resume walking. Much calmer than he would have otherwise.

“Those other kids were running their mouths, muzzles and… beaks.” With the last word he looks away from me. 

I'm hesitant to ask, but out of curiosity eventually do. “What were they saying?”

“The typical shi… I mean stuff. Saying I'm evil and don't belong here. How it should be with the majority of my kind trapped on Aafa. And much more that I'd rather not repeat.”

He looks down at the ground while grabbing at one of his bluish tentacles with the other. I can see him slightly flinch with pain when it accidentally runs over the fresh bruising. Sympathetically I reach over and pat his back with my wing just as we get off school property. “I'm sorry Tradil, some people are simply… cruel. Kids can be especially vicious.” 

Reminds me of some of some bastard schoolmates I encountered in my own time… pricks.

“Most of what those kids said doesn't really affect me at this point. I've heard a lot of it a thousand times before, especially on the internet. Heck the worst stuff I've ever encountered was on the internet. But when that Duerten trash joined in...”

Tradil briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I will never take any crap from one of them, never!” Despite them coming from somebody so young, there's an intensity to those words which feels absolute and unyielding. 

I sigh and simply say “language.” His demeanor instantly lightens up in response and the boy abashedly whispers. “Sorry Brecken.” 

As we reach the vehicle one of my local men opens the backseat door and we get in. A few moments later we are heading down the road towards one of the smaller spaceports this colony has. 

“It's clear to me now that I simply can't put you in a traditional school. We can't risk another violent incident, we've gotten lucky so far that the bribes have been accepted. But there's no telling how long such luck will hold and I don't want to risk running into somebody who refuses.”

Tradil nods his head. “I understand sir” 

“So from now on the formal part of your education will be done via a private tutor. Outside of that though…” I sort of trail off at the end while trying to figure out how best to present the next part.

“Yeah?” He looks at me inquisitively with those big eyes in his. 

“For quite awhile now you have been wanting to help the Black Wing. Before you were simply just too young, heck you are still young. However, given what's happened… Perhaps joining might give you an outlet for some of that bottled up feelings. If you still want to officially help, then tomorrow you'll start some minor training within the organization. Nothing dangerous, just support and recon stuff. That is if you still want to become part of the Black Wing like your father.”

His eyes then turn from inquisitive to excited and instantly follows up my offer with. “Yes, yes! I most certainly still do, Thank you Brecken, thank you, thank you, thank you. You won't regret this.” He smiles wide and hugs me. I gladly hug him back and we sit there embracing one another as the world outside flies by. 

<[End of minor memory interruption]>

A buzzing sound brings me back to the moment. “Well then, let's see what he has to say for himself this time.” I swiftly get up and walk over to the door. Raising my left wing to the control panel, I find myself hesitating. Letting it hover there for a moment before eventually pressing the open button. 

The metal sheet then silently retracts into the wall revealing Tradil standing on the opposite side. Despite still being fairly young, the Kolshian already stands about a [one foot] above my head. Today he's wearing a long dark blue coat that covers most of his body. The kids' large brightly colored eyes are looking down upon me. The initial gaze that I see for a split second is one of cold practiced confidence. As if he's been rehearsing this moment in his head. But it quickly dissolves upon meeting mine into something a lot warmer.

“Brecken?” he softly whispers out in almost a questioning tone.

“Tradil” another moment passes, then I open my wings up revealing my feathers beneath the cloak. “Despite what we need to discuss.” I see a brief twitch in his facial features. “It's genuinely good to see you son.”

The kid then smiles and nods before leaning down to hug me. The hug is nice and wholly sincere from both of us. Once done hugging, I move aside and usher him in. Then close the door behind Tradil and lead the way over to the sitting area. 

“How have things been going with your current assignment?”

I ask while picking up my nearly spent cigarette and finishing it off. In response he huffs and takes a seat on one of the couches. “Boring, but that's exactly what you intended.”

He goes to get his own cigarette out of a pack on the table. But before he can, I quickly swipe them out of his reach. “No smoking Tradil, it's bad for you.”

“You smoke like a chimney when not on a mission, plus with modern medicine it's not even a health hazard.”

“It's still a bad habit…  an example of something you shouldn't follow my lead on.”

“So now you're saying I shouldn't follow your example?… interesting.” He says this with a very fake coy tone. Obviously trying to play off the dig as a joke when it's clearly not meant as that. 

Tossing the pack onto a desk, I set my cigarette out in the ashtray and sit directly across from him. “When it comes to certain things like smoking, no.  But in other more serious things such as… conduct, yes. most certainly yes.”

His eyes locked with mine. “A rule for thee and not for me, some would say that's not a new position for you.” I immediately respond to his pointed remark. “anybody can say anything. But at the end of the day I'm in charge, and I do make the rules.”

He looks away towards a large generic landscape painting located on one of the walls. With him choosing to go quiet I press on. “I've read the reports made by those who were with you, plus the subsequent internal investigators. But I want to hear in your own words, what the hell happened on that station?”

“Would you even believe my side if I told you?” The tension in the air rises with those words.

“I always give you the benefit of the doubt, that's why I wanted to talk about this in person rather than over a long distance communique.”

“Something I had to force by coming to you and not the other way around.”

“You know better than anybody how hectic my schedule can be… you were my next stop, I promise.” 

The kid then scans my features and mannerisms for a moment. Assessing them just like I taught him. He clearly comes to the conclusion that I'm telling the truth…*which I am…*because he eases back up a little bit.

“Okay then… I believe you. So where do you want me to begin?”

“What happened before that confrontation? Why were you in that maintenance corridor?”

The kid rubs the bottom part of his face with a tentacle. “As you no doubt know, we were sent there to make a deal with one of the local criminal gangs. In exchange for helping them to take out their competition, we get a cut of the future monopolized profits, plus them keeping an eye out for targets if they pass through. A pretty standard deal for us if I might say so.”

“agreed.”

He nods his head at that. “Yep… things were going well, the first few meetings went off without a hitch, so we set up a final meeting to solidify the partnership.”

I keep my beak pointed straight ahead so both my eyes can be locked on him. I'm silent, simply waiting to hear how he is going to try and frame this. 

“The plan was to meet up with the gang first in the maintenance corridor then go off to somewhere else. As we made our way towards the meeting location… We ran into someone, a Duerten maintenance man. He shouted that ‘we weren't supposed to be there’ while reaching for his communication device. He was clearly about to call for backup and bring down a whole mess of trouble onto our heads. 

Obviously we couldn't have that happen. So thinking fast I threw one of my brass tentacle guards at his device. My aim was true and I took it out of his claws before he could even unlock the screen. I then rushed forward and pinned the bastard against the wall. He started flailing and kicking but I firmly held him there.”

I nod along and motion for him to continue.

“I immediately called for somebody to inject him with a dose of knockout serum. That way he would go to sleep and we could be long gone by the time he woke up. But then… he stopped being so panicky and started running his damn beak. He noticed what species I was and…”

Tradil stops for a moment as his eyes now scan the floor between his sofa and the table. They also look at the tentacles sitting in his lap. 

“He started saying some pretty awful shit Brecken.”

“He was still an uninvolved civilian that you had a readily available way to subdue without causing harm.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “He mentioned Caato… he said… I couldn't let that fucking slide.”

My fatherly side feels sympathy for the kid, but the black wing leader side of me is very much pissed off and frustrated.

Tradil then says. “I did what I had to.”

“No… you did not do what you had to do. Instead you chose to viciously beat an innocent uninvolved man nearly half to death, before your comrades could pull you off of him.”

Tradil then angrily shouts. “He was asking for it by running his damned beak on shit he knew nothing about! I did the universe a favor by teaching him a lesson. Maybe next time he'll know his place and sit down and shut the fuck up!” 

In response I screech back while pointing one of my wings directly at him. “Just because some lonely moron who knows nothing is saying crap, doesn't give you the green light to hurt the innocent Tradil! Especially while under my command.”

“Oh I'm sorry Brecken, I forgot that you're the infallible arbiter of who's innocent while running a bloodthirsty group of assassins, sadists and thugs!” 

He shakes his head once again before looking directly at me. The fire in his eyes is of an intensity I've never seen. “I have never met a single Duerten who could actually be considered innocent in any sense of the word… have you seen the pompous way that species carries themselves?”

Without hesitation I get up and push the coffee table out of the way with my talons. Now standing directly above Tradil with my feathers puffed out in anger, I firmly tell him.

“You listen here and you listen well! It doesn't matter how average people carry themselves, they can act however they damn well wish, even if that's to be stupid and close minded. The sole reason I created this organization is to make sure that individuals who have truly done evil don't get away with it. That they can't simply disappear into the background and fall through the cracks. You going after random people just because they're Duertens, puts everything I have built jeopardy!

What happened on that station, that's not happening ever again… period. You will not hurt uninvolved people, no matter the species. If we start attacking average citizens for the sins of a few. Then we're no better than everyone else out here. Sadly if you aren't willing to change, then I think your time amongst the Black Wing is done. Until further notice under house arrest aboard this ship.”

For the first time in my life the kid is unreadable, I have no clue what's going on behind those massive expressive eyes of his. Yet despite how unnerving that is, I stand my ground and keep my feathers puffed out. Our eye contact doesn't falter even as he gets up, rising to and then exceeding my maximum height. Regardless of being back to looking up at him as he stares down at me, I do not waiver in the slightest.

I've stared down and brought to heal humans, Mazics, Arxur and members of almost every other species big and small… you can't intimidate me son.

The intense stare down abruptly ends when he suddenly performs a slight… bow? “I don't agree with this Brecken. I think you're making a mistake.”

I'm completely taken off guard by that and left confused. My feathers quickly return to normal as I step away for a moment. Giving him a little bit more personal space before carefully responding. “I don't think I am. However I want to stress this to you. No matter what comes next I want you to know that, I still deeply care about you. You truly are a son to me Tradil and I want the best for you… that will never change.” 

He is taking a back a little bit by the last part. Briefly pausing for a moment and then responding “I know, truth be told you're pretty much a father to me Brecken. I'm sorry.”

As I walk him to the door I give him a pat on the back with my wing. “We're going to figure this out, okay.”

“Yeah… I hope we do.”

He then promptly departs, leaving me alone with nothing but the ticking clock as company once again.

<[Time jump to very early the next day]>

I'm awoken by loud pounding on the exterior door of the cabin. Opening my eyes, I turn to the bedroom clock and see it's [5:00 a.m.].

“What's going on?”

I whisper while removing the blankets and getting up. Dreary, I make my way out of the bedroom and across the sitting room. Upon reaching the door and opening it, I  find Becker outside with a clearly concerned expression across his metal face. 

“Why have you woke me up so early? What's happening?

“It's Tradil… he's gone, we've done a search of the ship, him along with one of the shuttles is missing.”

My brain can't even process what it's just heard. 

“Can you repeat that?”

“Tradil and a shuttle are gone Brecken.”

I begin to feel a maelstrom of emotions bubbling up within me, rage, disappointment, concern, anger and shock. Despite it all I keep an outwardly stoic demeanor. “Have you already launched other shuttles to follow the residual FTL trail?”

“Of course… what do you want us to do if we get him?”

“Don't you mean when? He's probably just angry and trying to find space to think… for now just track Tradil and keep an eye on him. Basically make sure the kid doesn't do anything stupid.”

“Will do… I'm sorry to have woken you up so early, but I felt you needed to know this right away.”

I nod my head. “All good, it is something serious and so I'd rather know as soon as possible.” Becker acknowledges my response with a nod of his own before then turning away just as the door shuts. I stand there staring at the steel plate for longer than I would like to admit. Then finally turn around and gaze over at the spot where we had just been talking a little bit ago. 

“Where are you going Tradil? What are you up to?”

(End of part)

[Prev] [First]  [Next]

[beginning of privateers] 

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP setting which has been so fun to write in these last few years. And a special thanks to u/julianSkies for all the help.
 
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 [Brecken last chapter] [Brecken next chapter]

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Memory transcription 

Subject Name: Brecken 

Species: krakotl 

Job: leader of extremist group “The Black Wing”

Location: Blackwing sector 3 command ship “Fowl Tidings”

Date [standardized human time]: January 22th, 2148.

—----------------------------------------------------

“That should do nicely.”

With my right wing I reach up and grab a small bottle of venlil ale off of the back bar's middle shelf. Liquor in claw, I pop the cap off and pour the contents into a tall glass on the bar top. One that already contains two thirds lemonade and crushed ice. Then pulling a mixing stick out from under the counter, I begin to stir the concoction while eavesdropping on all conversations taking place within translator range. The lounge's air is thick with almost as much chatter as smoke from cigars, cigarettes, pipes and even the occasional hookaha. One conversation in particular which catches my attention is happening just a wing full of seats down from me, between the infamous Merrill and a human operative named Kilroy.

“... When Dan, the primary guy watching the cameras, told me what had just happened I couldn't believe it. I was just in total shock and denial. I was like ‘There's no way one of them tried to kill the other. Like who does that?’ But when I accessed the feed from that area myself and saw him sitting in that chair covered in blood while the other guy lay lifeless on the ground. My heart just sank… I thought then and there the plan was cooked.”

Kilroy chuckles just before taking a sip from his can of beer. “That's life for you. All the planning in the universe still can't adequately predict what someone will do when forced into a corner, so what did you do in response?”

“Obviously I put on a brave and assured voice and attempted to goad him into continuing. After all if he decided to follow his friend's advice and end it there, our whole plan would have been fucked beyond repair.” Merrill shakes his beak and scratches an area of his neck where the feathers were removed for minor surgery. Meanwhile his other wing is resting firmly on the bar, broken claws still heavily bandaged. “I may never get to meet them, but thank whatever God's out there for that venlils stubbornness. It was honestly amazing to witness. Kind of sad but I had to snuff it out. But he chose his fate by participating in that tragedy and doing nothing.”

The human nods himself while holding his beer can up towards Merrill. ”Very true” the two then clink their drinks together as Kilroy begins telling a story of infiltrating and liquidating a particularly nasty HF cell who'd been inconveniencing us in this sector a [year] ago. 

Just as he starts I sadly finish mixing. Setting the stick down, I pick up my drink and move out from behind the bar. 

The lounge beyond is dominated by groupings of soft sofas and chairs centered around low tables. Most of which are currently occupied by a wide variety of relaxing operatives. Despite the aforementioned crowdedness, I just get a glimpse of a vacant couch and table towards the center of the room. Wasting no time I make my way over before anybody else can claim it. My purple cloak almost taking flight in the process.

Reaching my target, I set my drink down on the table. Then cast myself upon the cushioned velvet lined sofa. Once comfortable I sit up, open the cigar box on the table and take one out. I give it a quick sniff before using the cigar cutter inside the same box to cut the tip off.  Then using a personal gold exterminator lighter, I ignite the end while taking a few puffs. 

I hold the rich smoke in my lungs for a few [seconds] then let it out. As the smoke rises towards the varnished wooden ceiling above. I nonchalantly grip the cigar between a couple of my claws and take a sip of the drink.  

Cutting strong bitter venlil ale with a hefty amount of sweet lemonade tastes pretty damn good. Definitely going to have to thank Chiek for recommending it.

I sit there for a bit, quietly alternating between puffing on the cigar and sipping from the drink. Eventually though I hear the ever so soft sounds of servos approaching from behind.

“Looks like you're enjoying yourself Brecken.”

I shrug while placing the drink and cigar down onto a coaster and into an ashtray respectively. “What can I say… It's all about finding enjoyment in the little things. The galaxy has taken everything else from us after all.”

“If that ain't the bloody truth… ”

By now my synthetic friend has made it around the couch and into my field of vision. His metallic and polymer krakotl style body stands in stark contrast to the natural materials and general vibe of the old fashioned space around us. As he sits down beside me, I see him clearly eyeing up my drink and half smoked cigar. 

“I think that's the one thing I miss the most about being organic… food, drink and a nice smoke.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah, I mean, I can drink, eat and even smoke…” his razor sharp claws adeptly reach over, pick up my cigar and place it between his steel mandibles. Upon closing his glowing orange eyes, I hear an intake fan at the back drawing on the cigar causes the burning tip to momentarily grow brighter. It then stops and a brief moment passes before all of it comes floating out from around the edges of their gunmetal gray beak. His eyes then slowly open and he sighs.

“But it just isn't the same. And I don't think it's just because of a different body… I've had the taste buds sensors messed with a couple of times on this thing. Perhaps it's just old memories tainting anything new. At least on the bright side not having to eat and do other organic stuff means I have gotten a lot more things done.”

“Got that story written like you always wanted?”

He sinks down a little bit. “You know procrastination…”

“Yeah it was always a bitch… probably doesn't help that there's a lot to do already. But hey, not being organic anymore you should end up being around for a long time. At least a lot longer than I'll most likely be. So there's still plenty of time to work on it later.” I wink while taking my cigar back and placing it between my own mandibles.

He feigns being upset before carrying on “Both have their pros and cons don't they Brecken.”

“They do indeed Becker… they do indeed. Since we didn't get to talk about it last night, now is as good a time as any. So tell me, how's things in this sector been going?”

Becker leans forward and opens the cigar box on the table. Pulls one out, cuts the end off and lights it up before placing it between his mandibles. He then simply projects his voice and is able to speak while smoking.  

“Going pretty well… had a few hiccups with some minor tom fuckery on the part of a few people. Of which you're already well aware of.” he and I both briefly tense up at the mention of that particular situation before moving on for now. “But overall still a net positive in goals and quotas met since you last flew by.” Becker then picks up my drink. He begins moving to glass around in a circle, causing the contents to softly slosh back and forth. Almost like he's contemplating taking a drink. “Your report already mentions the assassination didn't go as planned, but how badly are we talking?” 

“Given that HF very publicly killed him, it's turned that bigoted bastard into a martyr. The stuff I overheard in the aftermath confirms a sharp rise of not only anti-human but general anti-omnivore sentiments among the predominantly herbivore population. Just before departing, I was already hearing whispers of retaliatory strikes by the Militia happening elsewhere in the colony. Despite the Venlil Republic's best efforts to suppress everything, I think the situation there is going to get far worse before it gets better. Enough so I we should pull our human and omnivore operatives out until further notice. Or at the very least have them relocate to HF and the league strongholds for protection.”

Becker puts my drink back down without even taking a sip. He then taps some of the accumulating cigar ash off into the ashtray. “Logical and sound as always. I'll make sure it's done swiftly.” He then pauses for a moment and looks at me contemplatively. “Do you ever wonder if us all being copies of each other could be a detriment. Like… because we all have roughly the same point of view there isn't much difference in the conclusions we come to. Meaning if one of us has a bad idea it's likely we will all follow it without question.”

“Potentially… that is an initial risk of ‘copies’. However you aren't simply just copies. You’re individuals. Sure we all have the same base programming via memories prior to the split. But the variation in our experiences going forward will shape us into different people over time. The simple fact that you're mechanical while I'm organic already changes how we think in many ways. But for now yeah that is a risk, that's why we're pretty good at listening to those not us.”

“That's a pretty fair point, again logical.” he winks at me while puffing on his cigar. ”Thanks Dad.”

I shake my beak while putting what's left of my cigar out in the ashtray. “Why do you guys insist on calling me that?”

“You already know the answer… because we find it funny. Speaking of fatherly stuff. Have you met Tradil since getting that report about a [month] ago?”

I'd been in the middle of prepping another cigar as he asked that question, circling us back to that initial discomfort. It briefly causes me to stop. But I push through and continue. “Not just yet… I'm still very upset.”

“Which you have a right to be… his animosity towards Duerten in general is going from just a regrettable personality trait, to a serious fucking problem and liability.” I glance at him and we make eye contact. “What happened on that station…” Becker actually shudders just as I'm lighting my new cigar. The soft couch beneath us becomes quite uncomfortable as we go on. “It was wrong and against our code of conduct, period.” 

“From what was in your unofficial report about what happened… I completely agree. It's why I immediately ordered him put on leave until I could personally figure out a course of action.”

“On that note Brecken… I have some uncomfortable news, in fact it's the reason why I came to talk to you.”

“What is it?”

“Apparently against our orders to stay put, Tradil has decided to come here. I only just received word about an [hour] ago that he shall arrive by the end of the day.”

I was just about to sip my drink right as he said that. I stop mid motion glass mere [inches] from my beak. 

If this was anybody else so egregiously defying orders after breaking our code, I would have their equivalent of tail feathers mounted on a wall yesterday. But this isn't just anybody. Kind of double standards to treat family differently than anybody else but that's… nature. 

I shake my beak and down what's left of my drink in one swift gulp. “The kid is tired of waiting and wants to talk right here right now. I don't know what I'm going to do with him… ever since his father died on Catto I've tried to take him under my wing. At first I kept him separate from this life. But things kept happening… and I just couldn't say no. I've tried so fucking hard to steer him away from blind hatred against all Duertens. To focus his disdain towards that government rather than species. But it doesn't seem to have worked.”

Becker puts one of his wings around me. “Believe me I know, perhaps he needs to be put on more than just probation. I'm thinking he needs a normal life. I know you are as well.”

“Perhaps you're right… perhaps, getting away from all of this.” I motion to everything around us. “Might do him some good. But you know he won't like it.”

“Neither will we, but it's for his own good.”

“Send him a message that he's welcome here, but I want to speak as soon as he arrives.” 

Becker brings up one of his wings. He quickly types on a built-in screen then turns his attention back to me. 

“Already sent Brecken.”

“Good… good, thank you Becker.” He puts up a wing. “Don't thank me, in fact thank you. One of the other benefits I found of being a copy means, is I don't have to deal with that unpleasantness myself. I get to be more like the cool Uncle rather than the stern father now.”

I shake my beak. “Lucky bastard.” 

(End of part)

[Prev] [Next]

[beginning of privateers]

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP setting which has been so fun to write in these last few years. And a special thanks to u/julianSkies for all the help.
 
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 [Brecken last chapter] [Brecken next chapter]

—----------------------------------------------------

Memory transcription 

Subject Name: Brecken 

Species: krakotl 

Job: leader of extremist group “The Black Wing”

Location: Archils, colony of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: January 20th, 2148.

—----------------------------------------------------

Whilst waiting for the hotel receptionist to finish, I check the time on my data pad. 

[8:09 a.m] around [4 hours and 11 minutes] left to go.

A moment later the human in a sleek black suit behind the desk is done. He slides me a key card with a smile and says. “ You're all checked in Mr Xerath. Your room 1014 on the 10th floor. Is there anything else you need sir?”

Despite having just met this man less than [10 minutes] ago. I can sense a genuine warmth and sincerity to his words. While such friendliness is possessed by anybody mildly competent in the hospitality industry. Here it doesn't feel like solely an act put on for the sake of one's job. If he is acting though, then he's damn good at it, because I can't pick up anything to the contrary… I like him. Hope he's not inconvenienced too much by what shall transpire later.

With a polite nod I accept the room key. “Nothing comes to mind at this current moment, but I'll be sure to let the staff know if anything does later.”

 “We aim to please… would you like me to call a bellhop to help with your luggage?”

“I'll be just fine… I've traveled fairly light, only bringing this small bag and data pad." In response he nods in acknowledgment. "Very good sir, we hope that you enjoy your stay here at the Republica Hotel.”

“Thank you, and I'm sure I will.” is the last thing I say while departing the front desk. Scarcely [second] passes before another patron seamlessly moves in and takes my place.

Despite the crowdedness of the lobby I can't help but take note of the rich, bordering on gaudy decor on display. Its ornate ornamentation and inlaid geometric patterns are front and center in the various designs. All of it paying homage to the rebuilt Waldorf Astoria in New York on Earth as the clear primary inspiration. With undeniable influence from other human 18th and 19th century grand hotels as well. Alas I cannot take time to truly appreciate it, for I must get to my room as swiftly as possible.  

Reaching the elevators I find myself lucky and get one all to myself. The subsequent ride up is quiet and uneventful. So much so I casually listen to the low elevator music whilst watching the numbers rapidly ascend. 

When the doors open, I immediately take stock of the fairly empty hallway before me. The only people within sight are a small wing full of the human maids and bellhops, staff simply doing their jobs. Cleaning, transporting luggage etc. But one of them catches my attention.

That dark skinned male Bellhop seems to be a bit anxious. The way their brown eyes are shifting about. How they're fairly rigid while doing what should be mundane work. He's waiting for something, simply going through the motions until then. It's a subtle and unnatural way of movement I've seen plenty of while working with new recruits. Whatever he's up to, stay clear of him to avoid bringing attention to yourself.

Moving past him and the others, I finally reach my accommodations and silently slip inside. Instantly locking the door, I then click a button which turns on a ‘do not disturb’ sign located on the other side. With that done only then do I turn around and properly take in the place.

The room is as advertised. Light blue walls, gilded crown moldings and many other fancy and decorative bits, pieces and furniture. Just like the lobby and staff, everything about this space harkens back to Humanity… 18th 19th century Western human culture, but still Humanity. Just as the humanophile owner intended. It's a little over the top and tacky. But I have seen far worse from others, this implementation certainly isn't that bad. 

Satisfied with the cursory glance around the room. I immediately head towards the balcony. While doing so I pull a pack of cigarettes and lighter from my travel bag. Right as I'm passing by the open door to the bedroom I toss the bag onto the bed along with my data pad. They fly through the air gracefully before landing with only the slightest of audible sounds. A testament to how soft it undoubtedly must be.

Walking up to the glass doors, I take a breath before unlocking them and stepping outside. It only takes three, albeit big, steps to cross the gently windswept balcony and reach its wrought iron railing. Even though this place is human inspired, it was still designed with mostly non-human guests in mind…primarily venlil ones which on average are taller than my kind but still… so while the railing is a little high with only some of my upper body, neck and head rising above it's not that bad.…Inconvenient but I'll manage. 

I first tap the pack on the railing before pulling one of the cigarettes out. Then swiftly place it between my mandibles and light up. Being my first deep lung full of rich smoke since taking on this mission. It tastes amazing, even better than it usually does. Because of this I don't rush the smoke, I cherish it. Standing there quietly enjoying every little taste and sensation. All the while from below emanate the ubiquitous sounds of a living city.  As I nurse the cig, my eyes casually scan the storefronts across the large park my balcony overlooks. 

Eventually though as with everything, my cigarette runs out. Setting what's left of it out on the railing I then put the butt back into the cigarette box and head inside. Closing and locking the doors before heading into the bedroom. I look at the bed and can't help but feel just a little tired after so much traveling. Picking up my date pad off of the bed I checked the time [8:30].

“I've got some time to kill… might as well take a small nap to refresh myself after all the traveling. Don't want to risk minor exhaustion fucking it up.”

With a course of action decided. I set a timer for about [3 hours] and place it upon the side table. Then turn off the lights and crawl into the fancy bed…as expected, very soft… While lying on my back looking up at the darkened ceiling, I slowly drift off to sleep.

<[Dream/ Memory sequence begins]>

Blackness… in every direction, nothing else for what feels like eons. I blink and suddenly things are pulsing and feel off. There's some rough shapes being formed by the pulsing, but they're too abstract to understand. I blink again and this time everything becomes overwhelmingly bright. I try to shield my eyes from the light with my feathers but it does absolutely nothing. I look down and blink again and the light lightens up. The rough pulsing shapes start smoothing out into a table and some vaguely familiar surroundings. Suddenly I realize I'm sitting down and with another blink everything becomes… 

I move my chair a little to the left in order to be better protected by the canopy from the bright midday sun high above us. This was the best spot I could get us on short notice, given how popular this new place is. Most of the other customers as to be expected are fellow krakotls, there's a few tourists around the establishment. A couple of spineless venlil here and a prickly gojid there, nothing too exotic for this part of the Federation. But they don't intrigue or matter to me, almost none of my fellow krakotl here matter to me either… the only person in this entire colony, nay in this entire arm who matters to me. Is sitting just across the table. 

Stara, her red feathers with blue highlighting feathers along the wingtips look amazing today…as always.

I quietly take another sip of the hot leaf water they brought. I slightly grimace as the bland tasteless liquid goes down my gullet. Thankfully she doesn't see my reaction. Quietly I mask it with a look of enjoyment while placing the cup and its vile contents back down.

You would think such a place would have the decency to have some soda or better tea to choose from, or protectors safe water. Most others do at least… but whatever, she's liking this place so I'll endure for her. 

As we wait for our food order to arrive, she quietly asks me. 

“How was the visit with your family earlier?”

At the mere mention of them and that unpleasantness, I wince a little bit. Absent-mindedly I almost damaged the table with my claws. But catch myself starting to grab too hard and stop. 

“Awful… absolutely dreadful.”

There's sympathy in her eyes as she reaches over and puts her wing claws on mine. As she does so I naturally relax. “I'm sorry love.”

I shake my beak a little while looking down at the cup of tea. “I just wish that they would leave me alone. After the critical parts they played in sending me to that…” I hesitate for a moment before looking to her to find strength. “Place… I just can't look at them the same. But if I try to distance myself, or for the clouds sake cut them off, I know for a fact they wouldn't hesitate to report me for anti-flock behavior…” 

She gives my claws a reassuring squeeze. “They can never do what they did to you again. Just because you don't fit in with their flock doesn't mean you don't have one. That's something I and everyone other than them can attest to.”

“Thank you Stara, for everything” I then decide to ask her about how things at work have been going, in order to change topics. “So how are things going down at the clinic?”

She swallows a couple of nuts and grants my wish for a change of subject. “Been going pretty decently honestly…  though there was a recent influx of injured refugees.”

“Really, from where?”

She takes a moment to think before responding. “I don't remember the exact colony they come from. Just that it  was a system on the frontier of the alliance territory. Regardless of the name, it suffered a bad arxur raid… many were injured, local facilities damaged. Some of the more injured ones were sent to us and other facilities for further care.”

I eat a few nuts and shake my beak. “Awful, simply awful, at least they're now in good claws with you. I can't wait for the day the Federation finally wins against the predators.” 

“With men like you fighting against them I have no doubt  this war will come to an end soon and we can all live in peace. How's things in the Navy going?”

“Pretty good, despite my… past. Many seem willing to overlook it for the skills I bring. Right now it's looking like I'm going to be assigned as a point defense Gunner aboard a cruiser.”

“That's amazing Brecken, I'm so proud… What's the name of the ship?”

“I don't know just yet, all I know is I'm going to be assigned to a cruiser. I personally hope it's one of the more modern ones.”

She nods her beak while taking another sip of tea. It's subtle but… I see her grimace while placing the cup down. 

“Hopefully you'll know soon where you're going, I bet it's a little…”

I can't help but put a wing up and interrupt her. “Stara… do you like the tea here?”

In response she looks back and forth and then sighs. “To be honest, not really.” She then leans in. “This is probably the worst cup of Gnesnig I've ever had.”

Puzzled I ask. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Because… you seem to be enjoying it, given you normally don't like tea I thought maybe you found something you liked.”

“How do you know I don't like tea?”

She cocks her head and gives me this look of… you're really asking me that…

“Brecken you might be able to hide stuff for most people, but with you I usually know what to look for. There's no hiding anything from me.”

“Oh…” I can feel the skin under my cheek feathers get a little bit hot. “I was pretending to like this joint's tea because I thought you liked it.”

She lets out a sigh before clicking her mandibles in amusement while laughing, I can't help but join in, also finding amusement in the misunderstanding. “I can't believe we both kept drinking this trash because we thought the other liked it.” One of the servers nearby stops for a moment, apparently overhearing us bashing the tea. But instead of defending it, their body language betrays an admittance that it's bad before continuing with their work.

I tilt my head and look at her. “People do a lot of things they may not personally like as long as they think the person they care about enjoys it.”

“True, but you don't have to be a different person around me, I love you for who you are… come on. Let's get our food to go and go somewhere we both actually enjoy… plus get something better than this dishwater to drink along the way.”

She gets up and offers me a wing and I happily take it. “You read my mind, lead the way… my love.”

Everything then changes… The once defined Cafe space melts away into a bright void before shifting into an outdoor hilly space surrounded by trees overlooking a large outdoor space.

Our to-go boxes lie off to the side mostly empty, along with the soda can sitting against them. Me and her cuddle together leaning against a large tree watching the sunset. The park is pretty beautiful and peaceful this time of day. 

Looking slightly down towards Stara I tell her. “Thank goodness their food was better than the tea… I don't think I could have handled a second disappointment.”

She clicks her mandibles amusingly. “Yeah… Then again what we ordered was pretty simple. Salads and soups, how could they mess that up.”

“They messed up Gnesnig tea Stara. I half expected the salad to be hot and the soup cold.” 

She does a little bit more chuckling. “I guess you do have a point… today was pretty nice my love.”

“Hopefully they'll be many more like today in the years to come.”

“There will be… and where your family and others are concerned, everything will be okay. Just take it one wing beat at a time and don't lose your cool or do anything rash.”

“Stara look who you're talking to… I'm the king of cool. Despite everything life has thrown at me, I always remain calm and reasonable.”

She rolls her eyes a little bit and cuddles closer as we watch the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. 

<[Dream/ Memory sequence ends]>

I slowly open my eyes to the sound of a buzzing alarm. Without looking I reach over and turn it off, slip out from underneath the blankets and get up. Looking at the time I see that I have roughly [40 minutes]. From my bag I quickly retrieve a multi-tool and get to work.

With it in claw, I take a chair from a table in the room and place it against the wall directly under an air vent. I stretch a little before hopping up on the chair and unscrewing the vents screws. Using one wing, I hold the cover in place while tossing the multi-tool back on to the bed. Once that's done I use both to bring it down and set it on the beds right side table. 

I then look inside and see what I'm after. A long dark case. Grabbing it firmly with both claws I pull it out, hop down from the chair and set it on the bed as well. 

Releasing the latches I flip it open to reveal a  partially disassembled rifle within. My eyes scan the components. “Our contact did not disappoint.” The weapon’s assembly takes little effort as I screw the barrel on before attaching the stock. Using the multi-tool, I put on a few more bits and bobs and everything is good.

Taking the rifle and rounds with me, I head out of the bedroom. Place them on the couch, then make my way back over to the balcony doors. I wait for a moment before flinging them wide open. The bright sun light stings for just a moment before subsides as I adapt. Looking across the park with my unaided eyes, I can see the cafes on the other side are quite active.

He's no doubt there.

I then swiftly rearrange the room. Moving the coffee table so it's right in front of the open door. Satisfied with its position I retrieve the rifle from the couch, flip out its tripod legs and set it upon said table. On the same table, I prop up my data pad beside the rounds, it's currently displaying a picture of the target. A local political figure, one with a secret of having been a particularly cruel doctor at a facility somewhere else.

Partially kneeling down on the floor, I put my left eye against the scope and begin scanning the tables of the cafe he normally visits for lunch.

Which should be happening about… now.

Going from table to table. I eventually locate somebody that looks like the target. Opening up my other eye I look at the picture on the datapad. Then back through the scope at the person in the crosshairs. 

“That venlil looks like the target… fur color and pattern matches… appears to be roughly the same size and weight… Im pretty confident it's him… well Mr Olitic, or should I say Dr Dicus. Whatever your name truly is, looks like you're about to learn what really lies on the other side of the veil.”

My next move is to turn on the TV...The noise will help conceal the coming shot a little bit, buying me extra time to evacuate after firing... I then pull back the bolt and slip a round inside and lock it in. Following that I close my right eye once again and focus on the target. Sitting there, eating their meal. Somebody is across from him and the two are chatting and even laughing once in a while. They seem to be having a grand time despite his past horrors. My claw hovers just over the trigger. 

I'm about to fire when a human sitting at the table next to him gets up, draws something from their waist and puts it almost directly against the target's head. The venlil’s head suddenly snaps towards the opposite direction amidst a spray of orange blood and gore that splatters onto somebody a table over. Their body goes limp and he collapses muzzle first into his remaining food.

“What the hell?”

My eye remains glued to the scope as I scan the human. In his right hand is an old-fashioned revolver. At that moment, I recognize his brown eyes, dark skin and dark hair. 

“The shifty bellhop from before… so this is what you were planning.” I whisper just as the sound of the gunshot reaches me. But he doesn't stop there, oh no. The human then shoots the person who was eating lunch with the target twice, once in the chest and the other in the head. People's brains then catch up with what's happening and chaos immediately ensues as everyone starts trying to flee. As the sounds of the second and third reach me the human being shouting something. But at this distance my translator cannot hope to hear it clearly enough to work. 

He runs by a few tables but then stops… I can hear the sirens of exterminators quickly converging on the scene. Now panicked, he lets off a couple more rounds in two different directions.

Probably at responding exterminators. 

He shakily looks at his gun before shouting some more. He then makes a fist and puts it into the air… typical Humanity first symbol… while putting the gun in his mouth. He's not putting it in pointed straight ahead, but instead angled up to destroy as much of the brain as possible. 

Taking my eye away from the scope I just look out across the park as the final boom echoes. The sound of sirens rapidly drowns out everything else. I shake my beak and can't help but disappointingly mumble. 

“That's annoying… all that prep time for nothing.”

I then began to more casually than expected disassemble the rifle. I'd planned to be doing this in a rush while trying to get out. But with Humanity First beating me to the punch, there's no need to rush. Once taken apart and the pieces put back in its case. I slip it into the vent followed by the cover. Then put the room back in order before heading into the hall and towards the elevators. 

<Very brief time jump>

Reaching the main floor, I'm greeted by a very active scene. A myriad of people are crowding the front desk asking all manner of things. The man from before is still there and doing his best, but is obviously being overwhelmed.

Scattered around the lobby are at least five or six different pairs of exterminators. Questioning guests and staff alike*.* 

I do my best to fly under the radar, but just as I'm about to escape the lobby unmolested, I hear from somewhere behind me. “Sir, can we have a moment of your time? We just have a few questions.”

So close…

Turning my head a little bit I see the tan skin human exterminator, along with a white furred venlil. Their focus is on me and they're rapidly approaching. Maintaining my calm despite the inconvenience, I step off to the side away from the doors and wait for them. “Yes officers? How may I help you?”

The first one who decides to speak is the human, by the sound of the voice he's the one who called out to me. “Sorry to interrupt your day Mr…”

“Xerath, officer...?” as I ask for his name, I stretch my wing claws out for a handshake. He sees me doing this and smiles, grips my claws firmly and reciprocates the human gesture. “exterminator Dale kraft, and this is my partner Bravil.” The venlil gives a tail signal of greetings. “We apologize ahead of time if we're interrupting anything.”

“Officer Kraft and Bravil, it's no problem. I was just heading out for something to eat. However I always have time for law enforcement. What is it you wish to know?”

The venlil then takes over. “Just so you know we're talking to everyone who's staying here. As you probably heard there was an incident a little bit down the road.”

I nod my beak. “Yes I've heard some whispers from the other guests, a terribly awful occurrence.”

“Very much so, the perpetrator appears to have worked here. A bellhop named Gavrilo Oswald.” He then shows me a picture of Gavrilo, one of him from before he decided to paint the cafe's patio with his brains. “We were wondering if you might have encountered him while staying here.”

As they hold out the data pad I take a couple of moments to really look at the picture, pretending like I'm trying to place the face. I then sigh and act like I'm at a loss. “I'm so sorry but I don't remember ever coming across the man. The truth is I only arrived here about.” I then look at the time on my own data pad. “Just shy of [5 hours] ago. I was so exhausted from traveling. I immediately took a nap upon reaching my room. I only woke up about [20 minutes] ago to all of this happening. I'm sorry I can't be of more help.”

The venlil is disappointed by my answer. Before they can ask anything further the human takes over again. “It's quite all right Xerath and we're sorry for the interruption.”

I wave my wing. “You're checking with everyone to see if anybody saw something, it's completely understandable. Between you and me from what I've heard, I'm really glad I didn't see anything… blood just.” I shudder. “I just can't deal with it… I see even a little and get really light-headed and nauseous, just doesn't go well.”

“In that case if I was you I'd avoid heading south down 20th Street where it happened… don't want a tourist collapsing in the street.” The venlil condescendingly says getting a glaring side eye from his partner. Bravil then in return gives an ear signal of confusion.

“That's probably a safe bet, if it's all right I would like to ask a favor?”

“What would you like to know?” Kraft asks.

“I've never been here before. Are there any restaurants or cafes you can recommend, obviously in the opposite direction of all that unpleasantness?”

“Of course just about a block north is a nice little cafe called The Prairie with some decent food. Especially since the new people took over a little bit ago. It also serves both herbivore and omnivore dishes. So if you've gotten the cure reversed it should be perfect.”

“That dose sounds perfect… Thank you for the tip. I hope you find others that are more useful than I am.”

“Not a problem Xerath, stay safe and please don't let this incident paint our city in a negative light.”

“It would be unfair of me to judge your town based on one bad person… if you two and the other staff here are anything to go by. Then this place has far more good than bad.”

The human smiles and motions for his partner to follow him over to another guest in the lobby. Finally freeing me to head out onto the street. 

Briefly I glanced towards the south. From here I can just barely make out the vehicles and exterminators securing the crime scene. Turning away I start making my way north as the officer recommended. 

It isn't long before I reach the outdoor area for the cafe named Prairie. I watch the place for a [minute], seeing people come and go with their leisure. Fairly confident it's not a reservation sort of place. At least not in a super strict way. I move in and claim a small table with a couple of chairs along the outer perimeter.   

Sitting down I pull out my data pad and begin scrolling the local news. But just as fast as an article is published it almost is simultaneously either extremely edited or outright taken down. 

Censors are already hard at work trying to keep a lid on this.

But try as they might, they can't stop word of mouth. Around me the place is abuzz with discussion and gossip about what just transpired less than a [mile] away. The crowd is mostly made up of venlil… which is to be expected… however there are members of other species here notably a few harchen and some humans together at one table. While most pay them no mind, I do notice a few questioning looks from some towards the humans in particular.

Shaking my head I scan the tables QR and begin looking at the menu. While placing my order and working on some miscellaneous things, I can't help but listen to the conversations around me… 

“What have you heard?” 

“From what it supposedly said right before eating a bullet, it's abundantly clear Olitics assassin was a member of Humanity First.”

“Olitic was wary of the humans and their disproportional influence. It looks like he was right to question them.”

“They killed him to silence him, but ideas don't die with a man they only strengthen in the face of terror.”

“They're too dangerous, whatever humanity is, those hateful monsters will hide in their midst. Waiting for the perfect opportunity and then lash out.”

“That doesn't mean that we can treat them all as guilty of a crime, the vast majority 98% are good people like you and me.”

“If there's so few of them then why can't the coalition or republic governments stop the attacks! Instead they focus on suppressing the Herbivore Militia, our only defense against these feral beasts!”

“This is why we need the Herbivore Militia as a counter to the rising threats of Humanity First and the Omnivore League.”

As I'm eavesdropping on the conversations around me, I get the feeling somebody's approaching within my blind spot. Calmly I turn off my data pads, then use the blank screen to see who it is via the reflection. 

Just as I felt, somebody is approaching. It's one of the wait staff carrying a serving tray of drinks. A black furred venlil… with some prosthetics. Artificial lower legs just below the knees. Along with an artificial right ear.

How unique. The way they're holding the tray firmly with two paws rather than one, indicates they are pretty new to the profession… or perhaps the prosthetics are a result of recent injuries forcing them to relearn things? Could it be both? 

As he steps right up to my table I actually hear the sounds of his prosthetic paws distinctly tap against the pavement. He briefly sets the tray down on the edge of the table, then picks up a cup of tea and places it before me. 

“There you go sir, as requested, here's some of our signature in house brewed Gnesnig tea. The rest of your meal will be out shortly, I hope that you enjoy it.”

I nod my beak while picking up the cup and taking a small sip. While I still don't like tea, this is certainly nowhere near the worst Gnesnig I've ever tasted. 

“Certainly one of the better brews that I've tasted in a while. Thank you.”

The venlil flicks his ears appreciatively while picking up the tray and heading back. As I see him pass by another venlil server I see them give each other an affectionate look. One definitely reserved for a significant other than friends or family. 

Turning my attention away from them I slide the steaming tea cup across the table towards the empty chair.  I sat there for a decent moment… looking at that empty chair and drink. But she doesn't appear out of thin air and fill the void. 

Eventually I just have to shake my head, turn my data pads screen back on and get to work again. Opening up an email I begin to quickly type out a message. 

The mission didn't quite go according to plan… I'll tell you the details later. Long story short HF beat us to the target despite their sloppiness. Going to spend the night here and head out tomorrow. Should arrive back at sector 3's home base fairly soon. See you when I arrive -B

I then hit send on the message and put my data pad down as the other server arrives carrying my simple meal. 

(End of part)

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