The trouble started innocently enough. I worked the night shift and as a result my day was usually ending when everyone else was still waking up. I was hungry and as I was walking to the tram that would take me home I smelled something delicious wafting from a small building across the street. It was familiar, yet not.

If I had to describe the sensation I would say it was like the difference between getting shocked by static electricity and being struck by lightning. There were levels and notes there that were almost frighteningly intense.

I perked up my ears and listened for any oncoming vehicles before I crossed the street to get a better smell. Underneath the richness of meat and grease I caught a whiff of danger, humans were here. What were humans doing on Homeworld?

My hackles raised of their own accord and I went down on all fours as I entered the door. I didn't draw my sidearm yet, but I keyed my beacon. If I didn't check in within the next ten minutes dispatch would send cruisers to look for me and everything I saw and heard would be recorded.

The human had his back to me when I entered. Time seemed to slow as I saw the knife in his hand and had to make a split second decision. Protocol was to ask for compliance first but humans were bad news and this was a massive male. If things went down I might not be able to stop him before he could bring the knife into play.

"Good morning, officer." Said the human casually, making me nearly jump out of my fur. "It's just me today but give me a moment and I'll be right with you."

Then I saw it, a massive mirror set into a corner of the ceiling. He must have clocked me when I entered the building. I had forgotten that his kind were sight hunters, a rookie mistake if there ever was one.

The human set the knife down and turned around. The fur on the top of his head and covering the lower portion of his face was salted with white and he seemed to favor one leg. The soft ticking of mechanical mechanisms told me that at least one of his limbs was a prosthetic.

I relaxed as I saw the holotag hanging from his neck, the olfactory marker had been overwhelmed by the other scents but it was current. I stood back up on two legs and bowed a greeting.

"Good morning citizen." I fumbled with my words. "I couldn't smell your tag over the other scents of the building."

The human laughed. It seemed to find the situation to be funny and showed no signs of fear or even surprise. "Just an occupational hazard, I'm afraid. Will you be wanting food or just something to drink?"

I realized then that the human wasn't using a translator, it was speaking my language perfectly clearly. Which was twice as odd because most of my fellow officers didn't even bother to learn Döbian. Hearing my own language this far north was rare, hearing it spoken by a human was unheard of.

Apparently this was an eatery of some kind, which was odd because there was no olfactory sign to designate it as such. I raised one ear in curiosity. "What kind of food do you serve?"

"Mostly Döbian, but I also can do Möhin and Sühi." He ladled out a bowl of broth and set it on the counter. "Drink this for now."

I took a chair by the bar where I could keep an eye on the human as I lapped up the warm bone broth. My eyes peered at him from over the bowl as I drank. It was good, so much better than what passed for food here in the industrialized north. I could tell he had used real meat and vegetables, not that reconstituted crap.

Before I knew it the bowl was empty. I could still feel the rich fats from whatever fowl he had used coating my tongue. I decided that this human was probably alright, but I would keep an eye on him all the same.

Wordlessly the human removed the empty bowl and replaced it with a plate of cooked squash and marinated cheese. Involuntarily I felt my tail thump against the legs of my barstool. I hadn't had kurbikassen in forever!

"Oh you like?" Asked the human. "I had to guess what you would like but nobody north of Shiel does a good squash and I thought you could use a taste of home."

I hesitated. "How is it that you know so much about Döbian cuisine?"

The human laughed and turned back to his cooking. I wondered what his lack of an answer meant and if it was good or bad. It made no sense that a human of such skill would open a restaurant in the slums. Or even that a human would come to Homeworld in the first place.

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I forced myself to savor each bite and take my time. I was halfway through when the trouble started. A pair of Möhin bruisers entered the restaurant, their massive shoulders scraping on the doorway. They paid me no mind and zeroed in on the human.

"Welcome to the neighborhood." They said in Möhin, both speaking in unison. I felt my blood run cold as I realized that they were packbound. If things went nasty they would be fighting in unison without needing to speak to know what the other one was thinking.

"You must be the local muscle." Replied the human in Döbian. "Greetings to you, you sons of disease ridden bargain priced mothers." His body language and tone were friendly even if his words were insulting.

My eyes went wide and I tensed for a fight but apparently they didn't speak Döbian. The human continued in Möhin. "Greetings to you as well. Would you like some broth to start you off or are you ready for food?"

The pair hesitated. "This is a restaurant?" They asked.

"Obviously." Replied the human, no fear showing in his body language. "Today's special is kurbikassen."

"Oh, Döbian food." Replied the bruisers. "Döbians and humans aren't welcome here unless they pay their tax."

I watched the human carefully. How would he respond to the shakedown? I knew who the bruisers worked for, but did he? Even cops didn't mess with the Bone Syndicate.

"And what do you offer in return for that tax?" Prompted the human, his tone still friendly. "Are you able to offer me a discount on goods? Help with local permits? Clean linens?"

"It's more like we don't burn your shop down with you in it." Replied the bruisers.

"I've got fire insurance." Said the human. "And no offense, but usually you folks are all growl and no bite. How do I even know you're affiliated with anyone important? I could get in big trouble paying tax to the wrong people."

"Insurance won't bring your charred corpse back to life." The bruisers threatened, closing in on the human. "We had a Döbian chef a while ago who didn't want to pay her tax, you can ask around about what happened to her. Poor filthy daughter of a bitch took a trip underneath a tram."

"Oh, and was that your work or did you farm it out to someone with big enough balls to do the actual deed?" The human casually turned up one of the burners on the stove as he backed away. Steam rose from the pot as it began to boil.

The bruisers circled in. Both were inside the kitchen now. "Not our work personally, but we know the people who did."

The human looked up at the clock and my eyes followed his gaze. It had been maybe twenty minutes since I first entered. "What do you think, officer?" He asked in Möhin. "Are these guys for real?"

The pair froze and sniffed the air. I realized then that they hadn't smelled my badge when they came in. It had been obscured by the more powerful aromas of the restaurant so to them I had seemed like just another worthless Döbian. I looked down at my beacon, the flashing blue light told me that it was still in panic mode and had been recording the whole time.

"Oh bath." I cursed as the two bruisers turned to face me. This was bad. One of them tensed to leap over the counter and I felt my hand creep toward my sidearm. I removed it from the holster as quietly as I could and held it at the ready beneath the counter. I had never fired a shot in anger my whole career but I understood with a cold certainty that my streak of good luck was at an end.

The bruiser and I shared a moment. "Don't do it." I said, practically pleading. "Just walk away and nobody has to get hurt."

"It's a bit late for that." Said the bruisers, still speaking in unison. Then without warning they both lunged. One went for the human and the other leaped straight for my throat. I fired through the tile countertop the second I saw the bruiser's muscles tense and I kicked backwards with both hind legs. Ceramic fragments blew upwards as the bullet ripped through the counter and destroyed my half eaten plate of squash sending a warm spatter across my face.

I didn't have a chance to see if the bullet hit the bruiser before he was on top of me. Teeth went for my throat and would have ripped it out if my spiked officer's collar hadn't stopped him. I shoved the barrel of my sidearm into his ribs and fired twice. This time I knew my bullets hit home because the bruiser let out a yelp of pain and tried to crawl for the door, hot blood leaking out of him in a trail of foul metallic odor as he stumbled on four limbs that refused to work. He collapsed halfway out the door, dead.

I stood up and went to help the human but his attacker was already whimpering on the floor. It had a mouth full of broken teeth and its tongue was lolling to the side. He stood on its chest with his prosthetic leg, pressing down right on its heart. "Tell me who killed the Döbian chef and I'll let you live. Tell me who killed my Kasha." He demanded.

"Fuck you, human." The bruiser rasped, speaking solo now that its packmate was dead. "I'm not telling you anything."

"Fair enough." The human reached onto the stove and grabbed the boiling pot of broth. "When your tongue grows back, tell your boss that I'll be over to see him soon."

"Wait!" Cried out the bruiser. "It was Ruhern! Ruhern was the one that killed her!"

I could hear sirens in the distance now, my backup that I had forgotten to cancel was on the way. The human hesitated and for a moment it seemed like he was going to kill the bruiser, but instead he took a deep breath and set the pot back onto the stove.

"You're fucking lucky, you know that." He said as he backed away. He looked over to me. "What's your name, officer?"

"Braverhund." I replied as I went into the kitchen, my sidearm still drawn. I half expected the bruiser to lunge at me but he wasn't that stupid. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was panting from exertion. "Who the fuck are you?" I managed to ask.

"They call me Sacher." Replied the human. "My name is Wolfgang Sacher."

And just like that I realized how complicated my life had become. Because I knew who Wolfgang "Iron hand" Sacher was. He was a bit of a legend back in Döbi before he retired and if he was here that meant bad things were about to happen to whoever or whatever got in his way.

I looked down at the bruiser at my feet. "You guys are so fucked." I panted, the sound of sirens was so loud now that even the human could hear it. "You guys are so fucked."