by DC Bastien
[Sianor: !!!!]
[Ashroe: Yeah, that was my reaction. I was like: so I can write about fictional characters I like, and other people will read it? And then I went insane. I just went absolutely crazy, and all those things that had been rattling around up there just... word vomit.]
[Sianor: ...not the most attractive way to phrase it, but I know what you mean.]
[Ashroe: No, it was vomit. To begin with, anyway. I was just overly enthusiastic. I had some good ideas, but I wasn't disciplined. Thankfully I met a really good beta-reader, who taught me much of the craft. I'm still all... well. Amateur. I thought about attending some courses on creative writing, but it's finding the time and the money.]
[Sianor: Do you even think they would help you?]
[Ashroe: Hard to know for sure. I'd have to go to one to find out, but... well. I've been doing this for over a decade now, and I know from reading my older work that I'm getting better, day by day. And the hit counters and the comments and the kudos all pile up. People who read your work over and over, so... it mustn't be all bad.]
[Sianor: It isn't, believe me!]
[Ashroe: I just wish I had the guts to do original work.]
[Sianor: But what do you write for? I don't mean what shows, I mean... why do you even do it?]
[Ashroe: I write because I have to. I write... because I'm a writer. It's... it's hard to explain. I can't stop, because if there's something in my chest, some arching story, some loud voice, I can't rest until it's out there. Until the world inside my head exists outside it, too.]
[Sianor: If it makes you happy, that's the important thing. You're not writing for money, you're writing for writing.]
[Ashroe: Very, very true.]
[Sianor: Sounds to me like you're loyal to your muse. When you've got something you want to write of your own, you will. And then you'll sell it. Until then, just keep writing to make yourself happy.]
[Ashroe: Yes. Even if no one ever read my work again - yes, I'd be sad, I won't lie - but I'd still do it. Because... there's things in me that I need out. Not because they're painful, but because... I have a calling. Like those voices.]
[Sianor: Nuts, but in all the right way :)]
[Ashroe: You're far too kind. I'm going to go to sleep now. Well. Try to. You've got my mind all whirling...]
[Sianor: In a good way?]
[Ashroe: In a great way. It's been... well. A long time since I collaborated with anyone. You can see by my profile...]
[Sianor: Not a good breakup?]
[Ashroe: She vanished from online life. It was pretty sudden.]
[Sianor: Oh no :(]
[Ashroe: I don't... well. I don't often open up like this. You've got a knack with people, you know?]
[Sianor: I'm a good listener.]
[Ashroe: You sure are. What happened with her... is a story for another day. Not because I don't want to tell it, just because it's... not the right time for me to do it. The words aren't in place, yet.]
[Sianor: No rush. When you want to tell me, you tell me. If it never happens... it doesn't happen. I don't believe in forcing things.]
[Ashroe: I'm going to take my phone to bed with me. You can keep me company until I pass out if you like...?]
[Sianor: Isn't that going to stop you sleeping? Or am I that boring?]
[Ashroe: Anything but! If you don't mind half-drowsy ramblings, it might help me have story-dreams again. Those are the best.]
[Sianor: In that case, take me to bed, dear Kay!]
***
Chapter Ten - Mission: Information
"Captain..."
"Sparkle, don't fight me on this. You got threatened plenty at Adquem, and compared to this rock? That place is practically the Ritz-Carlton."
"That is a very ancient hotel chain of purported luxury," Messenger declared, helpfully. "The Ritz-Carlton, and not Baharii."
"I know. I know why you want me and Biann to stay back. I just wanted to say... be careful? All of you. We might be able to fly this bird without you guys, but..."
"It wouldn't be the same," Biann supplied, sensing her sister's reluctance. She was much happier saying it, and she grabbed first Vadim, then Loap, then Kre, then finally the Judge in a hug.
"We will be fine, Tho-Biann," Loap told her, his double-eyelids flickering away any trace of worry. "Do not fret. I will keep the Captain safe, and I am sure that Kre-Nappre's claws will hastily rend any threat on his Honour."
"I'm the one acting as muscle, you scaly dick," Vadim tutted.
"I shall remind you of that."
Kre shook her head, her fur prickling a little more erect from her skin in a slight threat-posture. "Loap is right. I will rip the throats out of anyone who would hurt you," she told Peters. "I may choose to act peacefully, but I am still a Sianar, I still have a hunter's instincts."
"Well... go find out whatever it is you have to find out," Biann said, a little morosely, and dropped into the Captain's chair.
The Captain started in alarm. "Hey, wh-- where's Bitey?" The little Ru spent ninety percent of his life in the Captain's chair, or on the arm of said chair, and he had visions of a squashed little furball under Biann's ass... or worse.
"He's been sulking ever since we hit Lineon," Biann said, without turning.
"Don't get too used to my chair, then. One squatter's more than enough."
"Sit in it more often, then," she sassed.
"...point. Okay. Let's go find us some rumours. The sooner we can work out what the frick is going on here, the sooner we can clear our names and go back to being normal, law-observing members of society."
"Do you not mean 'abiding'?" Kre asked, amber eyes narrowing.
"Yes. Of course. 'Abiding'. Now: mush."
***
[Ashroe: I'm glad you are as much of a deliberate word-chooser as me.]
[Sianor: You do not want to know how long I sometimes spend debating one word vs. another for the right... connotation.]
[Ashroe: Do you look up the etymology, too?]
[Sianor: No. Should I?]
[Ashroe: Depends if you're into it or not. You'll either love it, or you'll wonder why I even mentioned it.]
[Sianor: Now I'm gonna have to try...]
***
"How do we do this?" Kre asked, scratching with one unsheathed claw behind her ear. "I have never 'bussed for information' before."
"I believe he asked us to 'busk', but that's not really the correct term, either," the Judge said, clapping his hand to the heavy ruff she wore over her shoulders.
Kre tried not to flinch at the unusual contact. It was not commonly done, except for close friends, because a Sianar's nape was highly... personal. "Whether we 'bus' or 'busk', what do we do? He was not even clear what he wanted us to find out. I understand that people are acting strangely around Hleen in this sector, but I cannot go up to a fellow Sianar and say: 'Why do you hate the Hleen?'... It would not be answered."
"Well, for one, you don't ask as openly as that. And for two: you just act as normal as you can. Listen in on other conversations. Window-shop."
"But they will know that I am not looking to purchase!"
"Then you buy a few things. You need to relax: if you're this tense, then they will get suspicious about your behaviour and wonder why you're here."
"As they should!" Kre snorted loudly in disgust. "This is foolish. Why are we even trying to find this out? Perhaps it is simply one corrupt Enforcer who has made the Hleen unpopular."
"I doubt that."
"...yes. I am sorry. I... spoke in irritation. It is just... I am a woman of science. I deal in observables, in recordables. I like things which you can quantify, not... hearsay and rumour."
"Why don't we go to the local den of iniquity?"
Kre flickered her tongue over her incisors. "Are you wanting some alcohol, your Honour? Or something... stronger?"
"No. I'm just saying that it's the place that Humans always seem to gravitate, if they want to hear what's going on. Nothing loosens the lips
faster than a pretty face, or a strong drink. And as I don't have a pretty face, it will have to be liquor."
"I see. Very well. I will refrain from drinking, though. Would you like me to keep my distance, in this establishment?"
"No... you should act like my muscle. I'm going to give the patrons the impression that I'm hiring on a less-than legal job. If I have you behind me, it will lend credence."
Kre didn't like being reminded of her people's reputation as simple hired muscle, but this was a fiction, after all.
"I understand. Then you must indicate where you wish to go. I will be silent, unless you ask me to speak."
"Good plan."
***
[Sianor: I officially love hate you.]
[Ashroe: What did I do now?]
[Sianor: I looked up 'inebriation'.]
[Ashroe: Oh that's a nice one to look up.]
[Sianor: But where did it come from!? This isn't fair.]
[Ashroe: Someday, you need to start looking into the great vowel-shift.]
[Sianor: No!!!]
[Ashroe: Give in to the Dark Side!]
[Sianor: I will never sleep again!]
[Ashroe: Mwahahaha!]
[Sianor: Did you learn this at - is it uni you call it?]
[Ashroe: Sort of. I've always been a word-lover. And a research-lover.]
[Sianor: I bet you were one of the goody two-shoes at school.]
[Ashroe: Actually, I was a bit of a jackass. You strike me more as the teacher's pet.]
[Sianor: I think that's flattering. I'm OK, I suppose. I just... when I do get in crowds I don't like them very much.]
[Ashroe: Not many people do. Or... not many people I know, do.]
[Sianor: And I have no idea what I'm going to do for a real career.]
[Ashroe: If you can, find a job that either makes you happy, gives you a sense of accomplishment... or at the very least gives you enough time in your mind to think about these magnificent tall tales while you do the mundane shit.]
[Sianor: And still get enough money for internet and snacks.]
[Ashroe: Yep, those are practically necessities for survival, right there. I mean it, though. You have to balance out the grief and heartache you get against the money. Like... I could go for jobs higher up the food chain, but I might not get out alive.]
[Sianor: Oh no!]
[Ashroe: I meant heart attack, but yeah. Been there, done that, moved to a nicer place. I'm just not career-driven enough to give a shit.]
[Sianor: I think people should get more time trying jobs out for real, before they pick. Then you know if it works for you, and they know if you'll be any good.]
[Ashroe: A good idea, but I don't see the job market changing any time soon. And only the really well-off industries could invest some time in properly showing you around.]
[Sianor: When you are rich and famous, I will be your PR dude.]
[Ashroe: Hah, as long as you promise to wear a suit and sunglasses, even indoors.]
[Sianor: Deal!]
***
Loap was talking to a bunch of other Roqs, most of whom were missing scales or sporting various scars of differing ages. Vadim had his hand on his side-arm, eyes narrowed as he watched the interaction from further back. Roq body-language was more subtle than Human, or Hleen, but he'd become pretty good at reading it over the years. It also helped that Loap had spent so much time with aliens that he'd taken to telegraphing some of his mood with his tail. It was a habit that he usually suppressed around other Roq, but Vadim knew he'd use it to signal alarm if need be.
Roq, of course, used a lot of sub-vocalisation, much of which a Human couldn't pick up on without mechanical assistance. They would also use chemical communication, but that meant a lot of air-tasting, and it was normally done by intimates, not strangers.
They weren't getting very far. Sure, they had dirty enough identities, with a sturdy amount of backing behind them. All his years as an Enforcer - and then not as an Enforcer had made Vadim crazy-prepared to the level of almost-paranoid, but it was sure paying off now. But even with those identities, here on Baharii they were outsiders, and the underworld was always wary in case the new guys were snitches or - worse still - competitors. Loap was pushing for work with one of the Roq-run syndicates, pretending he was down on his luck and hoping to make a new home with their artificial brood, but it wasn't going well. Obviously the economic climate here on Baharii was the same as the rest of the galaxy: it was turning into a seller's market, not a buyer's, when it came to employment. Or was that an employer's market? Probably.
Vadim was pondering the complexities of the interstellar commercial environment a little too closely, and he missed processing the light, ambling, halting footsteps as a threat until it was too late, and the sound of a gun being cocked made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
"I'm not alone," Vadim said, under his breath. From the sound of the gun, the other person was close enough by to hear that. And he didn't want anyone else to, to draw attention to this. The gunman - or woman - might spook and shoot him where he stood. Fast on the draw he might be, capable of moving faster than short-range gunfire when he couldn't read the eyes of the other person he was not.
"I know you're not, but your friend is way over there, and busy. Aren't you supposed to be watching his back?"
Vadim's teeth ground together. Hard. His jaw was going to ache from that, but it was the only way - along with a fist clenched so tight his pulse throbbed through his palm - that he was going to keep anything resembling cool.
"I still am."
"Can't keep watching it if you get shot in yours, Kip."
"What the fuck do you want, Avery?"
"You took something of mine."
"You didn't keep tight hold."
There was a tiny pause, and Vadim knew the Enforcer enough to know it was accompanied by the tiniest of shrugs and a head cocked to one side. "Agreed. But don't you wonder why I didn't report it missing, and get it frozen?"
"I assume it was because you lose them all the time, so you didn't realise it had been stolen? Fine Enforcer you are."
"Why are you always such a dick, Kip?" Avery hissed, for once his finely-clipped tones colouring with heat. "I let it slide because I wanted to give you a fighting chance. I wanted to try helping you. I didn't expect you'd be so bloody stupid as to charge into an Ur-court with my ID - when we look nothing alike - and get me slated for immediate debrief!"
"Well, then, it seems you don't know me as well as you claim you do, doesn't it?"
"Enough!" Avery re-holstered his side-arm, and stepped in close enough to glare sideways-on at him. "Can we call a temporary cease-fire in the interests of intergalactic safety?"
"Why? You double-parked your ship? Oh, wait... you totalled it on a Whale."
Instead of anger, though, Avery lowered his head and chuckled. "Fine. That one wasn't deliberate, I'll grant. But you did get hit first."
"My ship's still running. New colours, new lick of paint, but all in one piece."
"You found out the same as I did about the Hleen, then?" Avery asked, changing the conversation abruptly. It was always his way.
"You mean the sudden, inexplicable reason they're all quarantined to one area of the Adquem? And how everywhere but Lineon in this sector suddenly hates them and wants to tie them to huge piles of already-lit tinder? No. I didn't find anything out."
"Interesting, isn't it? And how the Ur-court isn't quite... right on Lineon. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it got my hackles raised the minute I got off the comm with them."
"That why you're running around with nothing up your sleeve?"
Avery's smile was a little more feral. "So you noticed."
"Difficult not to. Old habits."
"Do you still check the exits when you enter a room?"
"Course. I'm still alive, aren't I?"
"I suppose you are," the Enforcer said, with a little rueful note. "You worked anything out yet?"
"No, that's w
hy we're here, ferreting out rumours and suspicion. The twins are back on Mes, and we're all hands on duty."
"You left the Sianar alone?"
"No. But she can handle herself, you know. Reckon she'd even wrestle you to the ground. Hmm. Tempting..."
"Loap's coming up short, I see," Avery mused, watching as the exchange between the Roq deteriorated still further. "But... wait. You said Kre isn't alone?"
"Nope. Judge's with her."
There was a very brief, very heavy silence. "You broke him out of the Ur-court?"
Vadim knew that tone of voice, of course he did. "Yes."
"And you left him with Kre-Nappre?"
"Seemed like the best way to distribute brains and muscle, and hit the most species-spread at the same time," Vadim answered.
"Where?"
Differences or not, there were times that you just had to suspend hostilities in the interests of survival. Vadim didn't argue, pulling up his sleeve to see the display on his wristband, tapping at it and requesting Kre and Peters' co-ordinates. "Half a mile due East."