Chapter 10

Fixer Omar Rifi /// Last Stop reception

Omar had to date, never had to use one of the oldest excuses in the book, however he felt today it would be well used “ pardon me minister, as this meeting was rather immediate… would it be problematic if i used the restroom while we waited?”

The minister's sensory stalk twitched up towards Omar as he finished the statement, before offering a dismissive wave with one of his fibrous tentacles.

Omar broke off from the current meeting and walked towards the elevators. Looking up he saw the dropping number in neon red 3….2….1…. ding*, before Pyotr could even step outside Omar shoved him back in. “the Fuck” Pyotr raged rising up off the back of the elevator as Omar slammed the button to go up a few floors. “...what? the client wants to eat you again?” Pyotr said to Omars stark silence. “No… they didn't want to eat me, Pyotr are you packing heat?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods…. You know on second thought i dont know if there are any bears left.” Pyotrs quip went mostly unanswered as Omar held out his hand

“Hand it over, i don't want you shooting me, and I really don't want you shooting this client.” Omar stared at Pyotr, attempting to maintain eye contact but 4 eyes made that difficult. He could see Pyotr’s face contort slightly meaning he was either doing mental math of his odds to retake his gun or maybe T was telling him something.

“...im gonna charge you per minute, you sure your black heart can take that?” Pyotr said fumbling over his own

“No but my wallet certainly can.” Omar replied taking purchase of the boxy sidearm.

Once he had it comfortably in hand, Omar turned and hit the emergency stop button.

“Alright Pyotr, im going to level with you, how much will it cost me for you to be… not you” Omar asked.

“Pfft, shit Omar, i've tried gene therapy already, and that was basically a one in a million” Pyotr said chuckling.

“Not that, actually your appearance might work in your favor. I mean your… unique personality, how much will it cost me for you to be a real professional?” omar clarified his response turning back to look at Pyotr

His head began to start tilting to the side in confusion “ok… fuck it you want me to be a choir boy, you cover my gas bill and my offsite rent for a month.” Pyotr said thinking he had made some outrageous claim.

“Oh Pyotr, really asking for a lot here, how about 2 weeks” Omar said feigning struggle, he had to make it real but not to real.

“Fuck you, you already took my gun 1 month or nothing.” Pyotr said becoming slightly aggressive, his default negotiating tactic.

Omar backed into the door of the elevator, again pretending shock in response to Pyotrs anger “alright, alright 1 month, but no swearing, no killing, no fighting, and absolutely no pissing off the clients.” Omar shot back.

Pyotr’s face twitched again T was definitely talking to him.

“Fine… ill be your choir boy, but if they try eating me, or fucking me, deals off.” Pyotr said his mandible rising slightly, suggesting a grin.

Omar knew this was still a gamble even with his word, and promise of payment. Sure most Captains hated the squids but Pyotr was different, more than just his physical appearance suggests. Pyotr hated everyone by default, including himself. You earned his appreciation, and by extension your life, over time and effort. Omar had secured both, but clients were a different story, normally cold indifference would be the best you could ask for from Pyotr…If not outright hostility. Turning back around and releasing the emergency button felt the elevator lurch as the cables pulled against the two weights.

“Pyotr, please keep your word, I want to live through this meeting.” Omar begged without turning around, he felt the gaze of all of Pyotr’s eyes burning into the back of his neck. The elevator descended back down towards what felt like a maelstrom waiting to swallow the two whole.

Princess B’vian Myus Thwuen /// Last Stop Reception

She felt it, before the fixer and his hunter returned. A bleakness, a purposeful void in the flow of the Djikit around her. It was approaching her, and slowly her body was responding to the presence. Coiling up around itself slowly, tightening and twisting around itself. The minister sensed her discomfort and asked over their mental link “princess are you alright?”

“Something is heading towards us minister, i…its unnatural”

The ministers Djikit focused and then began searching as soon as he touched the void he recoiled and shot out of his seat. Floating several feet off anything in particular. All focus in the room turned and centered on the minister as he hissed “what kind of evil is….” before he could finish the door opened. First stepped the fixer, no real presence to speak of like most of these Humans. The second figure was something else… a four armed monster walking towards them. B’vian could almost feel the temperature drop as he stepped in. it wasnt just her, the Primus’s armor began to power up with an energetic whirl, the Sgt. stood up reaching back for his cannon. Iiree and the minister both shot backwards planting themselves against the far walls Iiree even letting an aura of terror escape from her Djikit. The fixer stopped midstep looking around the room, his face contorted in a mix of fear, anxiety, and confusion. The monster looked directly towards B’vian and she felt her whole existence shrink down into this moment. No grand coronation, no loving memories, no hard fought victories, no future, just this single moment, staring down death. “Wha… What are you.” B’vian was able to get out.

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The creature raised one of its arms in a crook and waved the appendage “hi im PYOOOF…” taken unaware as the primus charged the beast pinning him to the wall.

“DIE ABOMINATION!” the primus shouted as the wall cracked under the force of the impact

Dark red fluid shot forth from underneath the creature's horrible twisted mandibles. The primus leveled his claw against the creatures chest and began to push, hoping to crush it. B’vian couldn't believe the creature had survived the initial impact, the primus’s armor was more damaged than they probably realized. The creatures head twisted looking towards the primus its face changing, and then the void grew. B’vian could feel that this absence to life had a pull like gravity, and it crashed against everyone in the room with force. The primus backed off even he was terrified by this abomination, in that moment the creatures left arm shot up and into the joint between the claw and the wrist punching straight through as white Viscous fluid shot up. The primus cried out in pain falling backwards, B'vian moving before thinking shot a wave of telekinetic power towards the monster before it could move in for the kill. It struck him like a wave but did significantly less than she was expecting as the creature bounded through the wall, a hole being created in its wake.

“Wait wait wait, I don't know what he did but I'm sure he doesnt deserve execution!” someone called out from another side of the room.

Turning her sensory stalk she looked over, and saw the fixer stumbling forward trying to place himself in between B’vian and the monster he brought in.

“WHAT KIND OF HORRORS DO YOU HUMANS ENTREAT WITH!” shouted the minister.

“What…” the fixer looked through the now sparking hole in the wall, at his monster, before looking back to the minister “i didnt realize his appearance would be so upsetting, my apologies, i can try to rectify this by finding you anot…”the fixer didn’t finish before the minister interrupted

“HIS APPEARANCE... ARE YOU AN IMBECILE! WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS MONSTER” the minister was still shouting and the guards outside the door were standing over the the still prone creature B’vian could feel it the minister lost in a storm of his own mind, today's events it seemed had put too much stress on him. She needed him to calm down but the mental link wasnt clear anymore. obvious confusion ran across the fixers face.

“OF COURSE FIRST THE THEFT, THEN THE ATTACK, NOW THIS… PRINCESS YOUR LIFE IS IN DANGER THIS IS CLEARLY AN ASSASSIN.” the minister shouted for all to hear.

The whole of the first floor goes quiet except for the Primus’s groans of pain, as the ministers words set in. realizing what he had just said the ministers Djikit shifted from Terror to shock.

“Princess huh… fuck im gonna rake you over the coals, is shitton a metric you can come up with Omar.” with a gurgling cough and wheeze the creature now sitting upright locked eyes with B’vian.

“So whats the job… princess.” the creature asked the void around him whirling and twisting with pure hate.

Warmaster Zrob Eas Mooll /// Personal Shrine aboard the Providence of Vu

Zrob reached out mentally with his Djikit feeling its ebb and flow, in an attempt to calm himself. he had been stationed out here beyond the nightmare line as a commander and forward observer under his fathers wishes. when he had arrived the state of this Imperial fortress was little better than a ragtag bunch holding positions they were sure they were going to die in. every member of the crew took the fact they were sent here as sacrificial lambs for the Hwangbue to fight and feast on should a new swarm appear, and they let it go to their heads. no discipline, no order, just the constant fear of death. in the months since his arrival he had changed that, using both Djikit, physical might, and of course noble Authority, he had molded a good number of soldiers to real authors of death. his type of soldiers profensional, and pratical.

the reason for his unease wasnt the soldiers though, he could handle soldiers. even the movements of the Hwangbue while troublesome he could deal with, as his scouts had detected a forward scouting party some 20 ships slowly encricling the Nebula. no the real problem was whatever game his father was playing, sending him reinforcements from an unlisted location and some "staff" who had once arrived locked themselves in an internal vault and not come out once. rumors had started to spread amongst the crew, erroding his only barely earened trust. they wouldnt mutiny... yet. but he needed to come up with a way to deal with these problems sooner rather than later. the current of his shrine turned and twisted as the artifical gravity spun again. he stayed like this attempting to ready himself. yet after some time a soft rap came across his room, rising from his pool, he lifted himself into his golden power amror, letting his Qwoo settle into the main body protected under layers of armor and reinforcements, and spinning his tentacles outwards taking the place of the nervous system. his sensory stalk slipping easily into the helmet area where he could micro manage the internal systems. turning it on as it locked the outward shell down in its overlapping patterns, he rose on all 6 legs, and shuffled to the door. standing there with a nervous look on their face was his newly minted comms officer.

"sir apologies for disturbing you, but a missive came in... from your father." the comms officer a young Peritian a quadrapedal insect like alien said with a salute.

"oh, of course he cant leave well enough alone... whats the missive?" his armor took his voice and amplified it across all frequencies.

" a research vessel and military escort will be docking in the station, reporting they took a Hwangbue scout craft and crew... alive..." the words trailed off as uncertainty radiated from the young officer.

"impossible, no one has ever done that before... are you sure?" Zrob asked incrediously

"its what they say sir... and theres more" then officer said waiting for permision

"yes im waiting" Zrob asked impatiently

"he said the weapon that did so will be sent to us so we can defend ourselves, sir" the officer finished

thinking on the implication Zrobs head began to spin, but he realized this was an oppurtunity to capatilze and earn some respect amongst his new troops. "very good soldier, respond to my father tell him we graciously accept, and send a missive across the crew, tell them what you just told me, then add, im requesting more of whatever these weapons are."

the officer saluted before scuttling down the hallway, Zrob could feel the tides of the great current finally turning hopefully in his favor.