by Jake Bible
"Still is the dust that holds and binds us. Long is the day that washes us. Close is the heart that beats for us."
"I'm going to shoot someone," Roak said.
"Who?" Yellow Eyes asked.
"Anyone. Everyone," Roak replied. "Make it stop."
"I agree with Roak," Meshara said.
There was polite applause from the cafe's audience as the speaker finished and stepped down off the stage. A Leforian took the being's place and clapped all four of her hands.
"Wasn't that lovely!" the Leforian exclaimed. "Nothing like some poetry to lift the spirits! Speaking of lifting the spirits, our next performer is known for his mastery of the ancient instrument called the bahgliora. I don't know what that is, but I bet it'll sound great!"
It did not sound great.
Roak almost had to sit on his hands to keep from pulling his Flott and shooting the being that was making some of the worst noises he'd ever heard in his life. The being was a bright yellow human and fairly handsome by Galactic standards. Roak watched as many of the audience members seemed to swoon as the man played his abomination of an instrument.
"This will not stand," Meshara said.
She stood and sauntered her way up to the stage. The musician, if he could be called that, watched her approach, liked what he saw obviously, and gave her a big wink.
"What is she doing?" Klib hissed. "We need to sit here and wait, not draw attention to ourselves."
Roak glanced at Yellow Eyes. The being was waving all of his nubs in the air and swaying back and forth to the music.
"Play it, yellow brother!" Yellow Eyes called out.
"Yeah. A low profile," Roak said.
"Go stop her," Klib snapped.
"You stop her," Roak said. "I'm not getting in the middle of that."
Before Klib could do anything, Meshara extended her claws and slashed the bahgliora's air sack to pieces. Strips of material flew in all directions as the horrific sound the instrument made came to a squawking halt.
There were a few boos from some of the swooning audience members, but those were drowned out by the louder applause from the rest of the room. Meshara ignored the praise she received for saving the ears of the beings present in the cafe and sauntered back to the table.
"Man, that was harsh," Yellow Eyes said. "Look at the guy."
The musician was still on the stage. He sat there, the remains of his bahgliora drooping from his hands, as he cried.
"Show business is rough," Meshara said. "He's going to have to learn to take criticism."
"Uh, we will take a short break then bring on our next performer," the Leforian said as she took the stage.
She helped the musician off the stage then immediately stomped over to Roak's table.
"Do I need to call the Jafla Base PD?" the Leforian asked, her eyes on Meshara as her lower mandibles clicked together with irritation. "Every being has a right to express themselves freely on my stage. I will have you imprisoned if you dare do that again."
"Alright," Meshara said, making sure she showed her sharp claws to the Leforian. She pretended to clean them, but the display was obviously an attempt to intimidate.
The Leforian wasn't buying it.
"Girl, my exoskeleton will snap those pokers off the tips of your fingers if you even think of striking me," the Leforian said. "You." She pointed at Klib. "I've seen you before. You're syndicate. You want to tell me why your little gang is harassing my establishment?"
"We're not her gang," Roak said.
"Oh? Is this your gang?" she asked Roak.
"We're his team," Yellow Eyes said. "He wants to call us a crew, but that implies we work for him and I'm not sure that-"
"Shut up," Roak said. Yellow Eyes shut up. Roak focused on the Leforian. "We're not anything. Just some tourists seeing the sights and suffering through the sounds."
"Sure you are," the Leforian said.
Roak shrugged.
"Then sit quietly and be polite or you'll end up really suffering," the Leforian said.
"We got it," Roak said. "No more trouble."
Yellow Eyes nodded. Klib frowned. Meshara rolled her eyes.
"I am not very convinced," the Leforian said. "You're going to want to order more drinks and some food in order to convince me."
"Understood," Roak said. "We'll take another round and an assortment of appetizers."
"Do you have Gooey Fried Knobs?" Yellow Eyes asked. "I love Gooey Fried Knobs."
"We do," the Leforian said. "I'll place your order and you'll sit here and behave."
"Got it," Roak said.
He waited until the Leforian was out of earshot before turning to face Meshara.
"If anyone else tries to play another one of those Eight Million Gods damn instruments, you can shred that too," Roak said. "I'll take whatever suffering the Leforian can dish out over hearing that noise again."
"You are risking us not making contact with Kalaka," Klib said. "Stop the destructive behavior and save it for the heist."
"I'd love to save it for the heist," Roak said, "but so far there's no Kalaka which means there's no heist. This GVD better get here soon or we start looking at other alternatives."
"Other alternatives?" Klib asked. "You have a lead on some other stash of millions of chits?"
"No, but this is Jafla Base," Roak said. "I crack enough heads and break enough bones and I'll get a lead."
"I should never have told you about the chits," Klib said. "You will ruin the heist."
"If you'd never told us about the chits then you'd be useless," Roak said. "And what's the same as useless?"
"I know, I know!" Yellow Eyes said, holding up an arm. "Dead! Dead is the same as useless!" He gave Klib a couple of his weird thumbs up. "Nailed it."
"We can revisit that option," Roak said. "Because right now you aren't looking too useful."
Klib started to defend herself, but closed her mouth when the cafe's door opened and a being walked in.
Kalaka was a Cervile, so he had a certain swagger to his walk that the male members of the feline race all exhibited. He was also a detective for the Galactic Vice Squad which added to his swagger. A few of the patrons in the cafe gave him more than a passing look. He made sure to acknowledge each look with a solid wink.
Finished bulk flirting, Kalaka took a look about the cafe, his vertical pupils widening as they adjusted to the dimness. Then he caught sight of Klib, his eyes narrowed, he caught sight of the unexpected guests with Klib, and his eyes narrowed some more.
It looked like he was about to turn and leave, but Kalaka paused, did a double take, and crossed cautiously to the table.
"Hello, Klib," Kalaka said. "I heard you were in town." He shifted his attention to Meshara. "I do not believe we've ever met. I'm GVD Kalaka and you are?"
"Meshara Trelalla," Meshara said. "Personal security and attaché for Her Royal Highness Queen Tala Berene, and head of security for the Cervile Royal Guard. There would be no reason we would have met. GVDs are not part of my circle."
"Oh, Eight Million Gods damn," Yellow Eyes said. "She got you there, man."
"I like you," Kalaka said to Meshara. "And that is the only reason I'm sticking around to hear what Klib has to say."
"That's appreciated," Roak said.
Kalaka grabbed a chair, spun it around, and sat down, his arms resting across the back. He frowned at Roak.
"What's with the helmet?" Kalaka asked Roak. "You got atmosphere issues?"
"Something like that," Roak said.
"I highly doubt it," Kalaka said. "That's protection from violence, not protection from Jafla's atmosphere. What's your name, Mr. Helmet?"
"It's not Mr. Helmet," Roak said. He grunted. "Can we take this conversation somewhere else? We're a little exposed here."
"Whose fault is that?" Kalaka asked. "A little kweet told me that you've made a spectacle of yourselves. I'm already compromised by sitting with you, so how about you just say what you want and I can think it over before I say no."
> "You can't say no," Klib said. "You know the deal you made."
"The deal? What deal?" Kalaka asked, his focus still on Roak. "I don't remember making any deals with these beings. The only person I know here is you, Klib. So if there is a deal then everyone else can go fuck off and let us talk privately."
"Her deal is now our deal," Roak said.
Kalaka laughed and leaned back. He gripped the back of the chair with both hands and made sure to extend his claws slowly then retract them just as slowly. He turned to Klib.
"Klib? Are you being held hostage?" Kalaka asked. "Blink once for yes and twice for no."
Yellow Eyes burst out laughing. It was a wild cackle that brought any and all conversation in the cafe to a halt.
"This guy!" Yellow Eyes exclaimed. "Are all the GVDs like you? If so then sign me up for the Galactic Vice Squad. I'm ready to switch teams!"
"Not a team," Roak said. "And you aren't switching to anything. Klib? Make this happen."
"Yes, Klib, make this happen," Kalaka said. "What can I do for you?"
"You know why I am here and what you are supposed to do for me," Klib said. "Stop messing around and deliver, Kalaka, or there will be consequences."
"Right. Consequences," Kalaka responded. "Normally I'd be worried. The Shilo Syndicate is pretty Eight Million Gods damn powerful. You cross them and you end up with your tail shoved where it doesn't go. And that's if beings are feeling nice."
"Exactly. So you better-"
"Not done talking," Kalaka said, raising a finger with a claw extended.
He smiled, picked his teeth with the claw, flicked something onto the floor, then continued. Meshara shuddered with disgust. Kalaka winked again.
"The problem is, Klib, that Shilo no longer exists," Kalaka continued. "Neither does Willz or even Collari. And from what I'm hearing, most of the other syndicates are disappearing at an alarming rate."
"Disappearing? Like the Cervile planet?" Yellow Eyes asked.
Kalaka started to speak, but stopped. The fur on his arms raised and his upper lip curled into a snarl.
"What did the yellow guy just say about our planet?" Kalaka asked Meshara. "What in all the Hells does he mean that the planet has disappeared?"
"You do not know?" Meshara chuckled. "That tells me just how low your caste is, Kalaka. No one even bothered to tell you that our planet was taken."
"Taken? How in all the Hells do you take a planet?" Kalaka exclaimed. He glanced over his shoulder and glared at the few patrons that had turned to see what the problem was. Pulling a pack of stim sticks from his pocket, he lit one and turned back to the table. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"You think?" Roak said. "Where?"
"You want me to pick?" Kalaka replied. "Good. I know exactly where to go."
"Kalaka!" the Leforian called from her place by the bar. "No smoking in here!"
"We're just leaving," Kalaka said and stood up. "You doing open mic night this weekend too?"
"It's open mic night every night, Kalaka."
"Eight Million Gods why?" Meshara asked.
"Beings got to express themselves," Kalaka said with a shrug. "Come on. I know where we can be anonymous."
"Is that possible on Jafla?" Roak asked.
"I know a place," Kalaka said. "Follow me. I've got a roller waiting outside."
"So you could run from your obligation?" Klib asked as they all stood and followed Kalaka to the cafe's door.
"Yes," Kalaka replied without a hint of irony. "Best to be prepared."
"You flee like a coward," Meshara said.
"I flee like a survivor," Kalaka said. "And feel free to drop that snooty snoot of yours a few degrees down. You keep your nose up all the time like that and you won't be able to see where you're going."
"Be careful how you speak to me," Meshara said. "I have tolerated disrespect from these beings, but I will not tolerate it from a low Cervile such as yourself."
"I thought all Cervile's were higher on the pecking order than all other beings in the galaxy," Kalaka said. The group approached the roller waiting at the curb. Kalaka opened the rear door. "After you."
Meshara slid inside as did Roak, Klib, and Yellow Eyes, with Kalaka joining them last. The roller had plenty of room inside, with two rear bench seats facing each other. Kalaka made a point of sitting right next to Meshara, but she moved quickly, pulled Yellow Eyes out of his seat across from her, and took his place, leaving Yellow Eyes to sit next to Kalaka.
"Hi," Yellow Eyes said.
"You are a corrupt law enforcement officer," Meshara said to Kalaka. "That puts you lower than even the worst enemy of the Cervile."
"Ouch," Yellow Eyes said.
"Tell the driver to get moving," Roak said. "Meet and greet time is over. Take us to this place where we can have some privacy."
"Take you?" Kalaka laughed. "We're already here."
Light flashed around the door frames.
"Kalaka!" Klib exclaimed. "You will not lock us in this roller!"
"Too late for that," Kalaka said. "Poq?"
The partition between the rear seats and the driver lowered. A being sat there. The being's skin was dull beige and his head was bald except for a red tint to the scalp to simulate where hair would go. The being turned to face the group. His eyes constantly shifted color.
"That's not creepy at all," Yellow Eyes said.
"An android driver?" Roak asked. "I didn't think the GF would allow an android on the GVD payroll. Not with the way they're cracking down on AIs."
The android, Poq, cocked his head.
"I did not think the GF would allow a bounty hunter like you to live," Poq said. "Let alone allow you to work for them. Hello, Mr. Roak."
"First, it's Roak. Just Roak," Roak said. "And second, I don't work for the GF. It's a partnership."
"Roak?" Kalaka asked, impressed. "Mr. Helmet is Roak? Hot Eight Million Gods damn. I can't wait to hear what Klib has to say. Poq?"
"The precinct?" Poq asked.
"What? No," Kalaka replied. "Drive us around the base so we can talk."
"But Roak is wanted on Jafla Base," Poq said. "It's our duty to apprehend him."
"Bigger picture time, Poq," Kalaka said. "Just drive."
"I'll think twice next time you ask for a favor," Poq said as the partition rose again.
"He'll still be listening," Roak said.
"He always is," Kalaka said. He pointed at Roak. "Take that stupid helmet off."
Roak did and took several deep breaths.
"There. That's better," Kalaka said and reached under his seat. He produced a bottle. "Anyone care for some whiskey?"
"Yes," Roak said.
"Excellent." Kalaka took a swig then handed the bottle to Roak. "I have a feeling my life just got considerably more interesting. Who wants to start?"
13.
"They melted?" Kalaka asked Roak then glanced at Klib. "Why isn't she dead?"
"We got her out in time," Roak said.
"I assume you took a body to study, right?" Kalaka asked. He held out his hand and Roak gave him the whiskey bottle. It was almost empty. "What did you find out?"
"Not a lot," Roak said.
"Terpigshit," Kalaka said. "You know something."
"Only theories."
"Let's hear those."
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Alright." Kalaka looked at Meshara. "And no one knows what happened to our planet?"
"My planet," Meshara said. "It no longer belongs to you, low life."
"Man, she really hates you," Yellow Eyes said.
"We'll get to your story soon too," Kalaka said.
"Later," Roak said. "A lot later. How do we get the chits that are down in the Gas Chamber?"
"Now we're getting down to business," Kalaka said and finished off the whiskey. "Poq! Gotta make a stop for more provisions!" Kalaka cocked his head as he listened to his comm. "Yes, I am talking about more whiskey. What other provisions would I be tal
king about?"
"The chits are our only focus, Kalaka," Klib said. "Help us retrieve them and you will be released from your obligation."
"Lady, I was released from my obligation a long time ago," Kalaka said. "You just didn't know it."
"Don't attempt to play games, Kalaka," Klib snapped.
"I'm not. Shilo is gone," Kalaka said. "I've been testing that discovery for months now and no matter what I do to what should have been considered Shilo assets there has been no retribution. There hasn't even been a peep from one of your enforcers. The time of the syndicates is over which means I'm free."
"Except for the GF," Yellow Eyes said. "You still work for them."
"Good point," Kalaka said. "But they break fewer bones when you mess up."
"I don't care what the state of the syndicates are in the galaxy," Roak said. "Are the chits still in the Gas Chamber and can we get to them?" He leaned forward and smiled at Kalaka. To the man's credit, he didn't cringe. "The better question is if you actually have a plan to get the chits and are you going to share that plan with us?"
"Because if I don't have a plan or don't share the plan then you don't need me and I'm useless to you, is that it?" Kalaka said. He spread his arms wide. "Why do you think I'm in a roller with a very dangerous android GVD driving?"
"So you don't have a plan," Roak said and turned to Klib. "Fix this."
"Hold up there, scarface," Kalaka said. "I have a plan. It's a good plan too." He made a point of doing an unnecessary headcount. "Only problem is we're one being short."
"Adapt," Roak said.
"You see, the plan is very precise," Kalaka replied, shaking his head. "Without the proper amount of beings working together then odds are we not only fail, but we die too."
"Use the android," Roak said. "Unless you don't trust him?"
"Oh, I trust Poq," Kalaka said. "We've been through some shit together. But he won't work. Everyone on Jafla knows Poq is GF. I mean, did you see the guy? Sort of stands out."
"We don't have another being," Klib said.
"I might know someone that can help," Kalaka said.
"What's the being needed for?" Roak asked. "Danger or distraction?"
"It's all danger, Roak," Kalaka said. He lit a stim stick and drew deep then let out a thin stream of smoke aimed directly at Meshara. "Danger is my life."