CHAPTER 3 – THE WORST SPY EVER

Holman Station

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” puffed Frag as he ran down the narrow alleyway. He ducked in between two large machines and dashed into a small cubbyhole. Covering himself with trash and refuse he held his breath, hoping his pursuers wouldn’t find him.

Soon enough the pounding of feet ran by him. “The fuck did he go?” screeched one voice. “This a maze. Hard to track. Too many scents” growled another much deeper and more guttural voice. “Bah, you Scagrin are useless. Fucking find him. Boss wants to spit his end to end,” grunted yet a third voice.

The voices continued to curse at each other’s uselessness as they moved away.

He stayed where he was for a while, catching his breath and ensuring that his pursuers were truly gone. Sure enough, only a few minutes had gone by when he heard them speak.

“He must not really be here,” muttered one. “Bah, the tracks end in this area but the scent continues on,” muttered the second. “Fine. He must have moved on. I don’t see any hiding places anyways,” grunted the third. The first spoke again, finally moving the group on. “Let's get going. The boss is not going to be happy if that shit gets away.”

They crunched away into the back alleys, searching further for the man they had just walked by.

Frag let out a breath of relief and slowly, as quietly as he could, began to extricate himself from the pile of refuse he had hidden in. He was only halfway out when a large, furred hand gripped him and jerked him out into the alleyway fully.

“Oh shit,” he muttered.

“Oh shit is right ya gabby fuck,” growled the Delvin standing next to the Scagrin and Toth who had pulled him out of the pile of garbage. “Boss is gonna have a field day with you. Borsch picked you right up and followed you most a’ the way here.”

The Scagrin set him down on the alleyway ground and sighed, “Too easy to track. Not hid well. Need more practice.” Said the huge grey, shaggy wolf-like being. “Borsch no lose you fully.”

The Toch hissed a laugh, his reptilian face stretched in a grim visage of a smile. “Poor little guy. I don’t know what species you are, but stealth is not your forte.”

Frag rolled his eyes, “I’m more of a … people person really Steel. This whole running and hiding thing is not something I am good at. I mean, look! I have noodle arms!” he said waving his arms wildly in the air to the amusement of the others.

“Aye, aye. Stop all that now. We gotta get you back to the boss for review. You failed the stealth test but you did good work confusing Borsch’s nose,” said the Delvin.

“Borsch nose good. You nose not good,” rumbled Borsch.

“Aya, we know you could smell the pimple on an Aelvin’s bottom at five hundred yards. Now let’s get goin,” Steel grumbled.

The group walked back through the alleyways the way they had come. Frag talked nearly non-stop the entire way. The others suffered in silence, except for Borsh who seemed fascinated with the various stories he was telling.

“ … and then he ripped me right out of the air and gave me a body. Boy, I tell you, I wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Me, him, or Red!” Frag said bursting out laughing while the grey shaggy being shook its head in amusement.

“You tell tall tales, but they good,” he rumbled. “Tell more later. Boss speaks with you now.”

They had all stopped outside of one of the many unassuming doors that led to various places, businesses, and homes in the alleyway. Frag looked at it nervously.

“Look, guys, I don’t-“ he started but was cut off by Steel.

“Nah lad. You go on in now,” he said sternly.

Frag sighed and walked through the door. It slapped shut behind him like a thunderclap of finality. Or poop hitting the floor from a great height. He could never decide which.

Inside was a mid-sized room with two couches, a table, and two chairs in front of a desk. Sitting at the desk was a beautiful feline woman. Her grey and black specked ears swiveled to him the moment the door closed. She looked up from the slate in front of her, green and gold slitted irises making direct eye contact with Frag.

She sighed and set down her device, folding her hands in front of her, and said, “Sit down Fragment.”

He moped his way over to the chair. As he sat he whined, “Sarah it wasn’t my fault. I’m just no good at this whole, ‘sneak around and steal stuff, thing.”

Sarah rubbed her eyes, “You give me a headache. When I won you off Red I wasn’t expecting that you would be next to completely useless. You can’t even hide adequately. Do you have any skills at all?”

“Like I told Steel earlier, I’m a people person! I could … sing songs? Tell stories?” he suggested sheepishly.

“You aren’t selling yourself well here,” she grumbled. “Look, you are going to get one more shot. There’s a Night of Telling at the Vorpal Bar. People sit up there and bring in the crowds with their tales and stories. Since you claim to be a people person this is your chance,” she said leaning forward. “And if you fuck it up I am sending you back to Red, Fragment. In pieces.”

Frag shivered with the thought of going back to Red and admitting he fucked up. This was his idea after all. Honestly, the idea of going back in pieces was a bonus, then Red couldn’t dice him up herself.

“Right. Right Sarah,” she glared at him. “I mean right boss. I will succeed. Be the best storyteller ever! Although … I am also good at selling things.”

She appraised him in a slightly new light, “Oh? Tell me more about that after you bring me some actionable information to work with from the Telling.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Ok will do!” he jumped up and headed to the door. Just a sit slid open he was stopped by Sarah’s voice.

“Remember Fragment. Don’t. Fuck. Up. Bring me something of value or your usefulness to me is over,” she said without looking back up from her slate.

“You got it boss!” he said, practically running out of the door and slamming right into the chest of hairy Borsch.

“Hello, the friend with many words. I take you to Telling. One of Borch’s favorite places,” it said with glee. “Just don’t die. Borsch wants more stories.”

The large wolf being trotted down the alleyway and out into the open streets of Holman Stations Central District. Frag, having nothing better to do, followed it.

He and Red and initially come to Holman with one goal in mind, figure out what the hell Brasx was up to. Once she saw that divine butthole on the viewscreen though … well then it was game on. Red wouldn’t be able to come onto the station without attracting massive amounts of attention. Immediately. Guardians and Praetors would only achieve the same results.

So that left poor old him. Red got him in by ‘selling’ him to a local gangster boss, touting his effectiveness as an effective being at whatever. Frag rolled his eyes, sure that she laughed the entire way to the bank while counting her Nex. Red was amazing but made could she be a serious witch sometimes.

He was brought out of this somewhat jaded memory of Red by walking directly into Borch’s back.

“Ah. You enjoy touching Borsch?” it wondered. “Borsch does enjoy little man. Immensely,” it said leaning turning towards him and leaning down. “You just ask. Borsch up anytime.”

“Right. Thanks, bud, I will … uh … remember that” Frag said taking a small step backward. He looked up at a large, well-maintained and lit sign that read, ‘Vorpal Bar’, in large purple letters. At least, that’s what his nanites were telling him he was seeing.

“This place looks nice,” he muttered walking up to the front door. Only to be knocked on his ass as a giant bouncer materialized out of nowhere.

Easily two meters tall and sporting four arms with red skin, Frag immediately recognized a Quadrian when he saw one.

“Oh wow, a Quadrian! I haven’t seen one of you guys in a while. Hi there!’ he said amicably.

This threw the bouncer for a loop. His people weren’t exactly common, being a refugee race with no home. But to be so easily recognized and greeted after knocking someone down … that just didn’t happen.

“No street folks allowed in the bar. It's Telling night,” he rumbled, not unkindly.

Frag stood up and brushed himself off. “Oh I know, I’m one of the Tellers,” he explained. “Sarah sent me on over.”

The huge Quadrian raised his eyebrows, “Sarah?” he asked curiously.

“Ah. Sorry. No, forget you said that. I mean Bookworm. Bookworm sent me,” he clarified.

The Quadrian shivered. Bookworm was one of the nastier gang leaders in the area. She would certainly rip his guts out and hang him by them if she found out he was stopping one of her agents. His reputation was so formidable that he had never met anyone even willing to pretend they worked for her to get something.

“Come on in,” the bouncer said handing Frag a green-colored badge. “Keep the badge on you. It marks you as a speaker. The Speakers seat is on the stage, but if you head to the side door and show the badge they will let you into the back area where everyone is waiting their turn. First prize tonight is five thousand Nex.”

Frag’s eyes widened. That was as much as he made in two months.

“Awesome, guess I just have to win eh?” he laughed, prompting the bouncer to laugh nervously as well. Frag didn’t pick up on it. Being the people person he was.

He headed inside, waving goodbye to the friendly, and extremely nervous, bouncer. As soon as he stepped in the front doors he stopped. The bar was pure decadence. The ceilings were lined with gold and silver trim, with large chandeliers hanging from a well-lit ceiling. The bar itself seemed cut from a massive tree, inlaid with animal and beast designs that Frag couldn’t identify.

He was so lost in the environment that he didn’t notice a server come up to him until he cleared his throat. “Yes sir, how may we help you?”

Frag blinked, snapping his attention around the floppy-eared grey skilled being. Wearing a tight-fit tuxedo, he looked every inch a butler.

“Sir?” it repeated in its snide tone.

“Ah, oh right. Hares, I mean here is my badge? Something about behind the curtain for a Tellers area?” Frag said lifting the badge for inspection.

The server took a brief look at the green badge before its eyes widened slightly. “Of course sir, I didn’t realize you were of such prestigious patronage. I will be happy to escort you to your destination. In the future, please dress more … appropriately. I understand someone of your social standing desires to go incognito … however the fruit peel is too much.”

Frag blinked and looked down at his shirt, realizing he had literally been hiding in a pile of garbage less than an hour ago. He hadn’t even changed before coming straight here. Facepalming he said, “Of course. Well, sometimes situations dictate extreme responses.”

Seemingly satisfied the server led him directly across the room, through the back curtain, and showed him where the Tellers area was. After stepping inside the room he took note of a half dozen other beings there with him. All much better dressed. And not smelling of a trash heap.

They stared at Frag and Frag stared right back. Then he waved, “Hello everyone, my name is Frag. I’m here to be the best Teller and win that prize. Or my boss will send me back to the bigger boss in a box.”

The disgust on the other's faces turned to looks of surprise, then wariness as Frag all but described his chain of command.

A small furry bear-like creature in a white toga spoke up first and said, “And who, pray tell, is your boss?”

“Oh, Bookworm! Her name is Sarah though. She’s great. Love her to pieces. Very strict with her rules though,” Frag said. He continued on to describe the amazing situation he found himself in when his current boss bought him from his previous boss. He never even saw two of the Tellers dart out of the room, as enraptured in telling the story as he was. “ … as that’s what brings me here now!” he finished with a smile.

The little bear stared at him, “I don’t know if your insane, the best Teller ever, or some random guy off the street who managed to trick the bouncer into giving you a green badge. But damn if that wasn’t one of the most entertaining stories I’ve heard in a while.”

“Well thanks!” Frag began as a noise chimed over the backroom.

The bear needed and headed for the door, “Looks like a few didn’t want to compete with a Teller from such a … dangerous background. I’m glad there’s still some competition left. Any mention of Bookworm tends to clear the room. Although five tellers are not as good as seven this should still prove amusing. Good luck.”

And with that, he was gone. Frag took a moment to inspect his competition. There was a tree with eyes, a large grey rat in a leather vest, what looked like some kind of floating eyeball with tentacles, and a small golden aquatic being in a bowl of water.

“Uhm, hi there,” Frag started but was ignored. They sat in tense silence for a moment before a voice called out into the room, “Twiggy! You're on!” and with that, the tree crawled across the room and out the curtain on its roots.

Frag stared at it go, fascinated by the strange method of locomotion. “Ghants are always interesting to watch move. No two are ever the same,” muttered the rat-man. Then he lapsed back into silence. The occasional murmuring from the Teller and the call of the crowd the only breaks to the silence.

Eventually, the aquatic being was called up, the voice calling into the back, “Bubbles McFish up front!”

The table it was sitting on turned out to be a mechanical crawler with six legs. Frag shivered with the creepiness of watching it unfold and examined the other nearby end table to ensure it wouldn’t turn into a creepy-crawly either.

The rat-man gave him some odd looks, but again mostly ignored Frag and his attempt to converse.

After another twenty minutes of waiting Mr. Rat was called upfront. No name was present other than that and, at this point, Frag was getting a bit nervous. The floating eyeball eyeballed Frag. Eventually, it said, “Don’t be nervous little pale being. The crowd is not known for often tearing one apart if their Telling is poorly done.”

Frag wasn’t sure if the weird eyeball was meant to be reassuring or not but he replied anyway, “Thanks bud. I will keep that firmly in mind. Tell a good story and don’t die.”