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Tales From the Terran Republic
Morgana Farstan Returns

Morgana Farstan Returns

“Rise and shine, sweetie,” Morgana Farstan said as she shook a naked scraggly human by the hair, “You back with us? It's not nice falling asleep like that when we were having such a pleasant conversation. It hurts my feelings.”

“You can’t do this to me! I have rights!”

“Do you see a badge? Does this look like a police station?” Morgana asked in a pleasant voice. “Now, let’s take it from the top. Sheila Donovan supplies your drugs, right?”

“Fuck you,” the captive said as he spat at her.

Morgana just smiled.

“You must really like pain,” She said as she reached for a small controller connected to a number of wires attached to her victim.

“No! Nonononono… AAAAAAHHHHH!”

“In case you are wondering, I only have it turned up halfway,” she said as she showed the dial to her victim. “While this little toy is designed to inflict pain without harm, if it is turned up all the way on a human it causes irreversible nerve damage. Oh look,” she said with a pleasant smile, “we have one wire left. Now where should we put it?” She said as she looked at her prey with a smile. “Oh I know, right… there...”

She adhered the wire onto the head of his penis.

“I suggest you start talking,” she said as she played with the dial, “before mister happy becomes mister sad… forever.”

“They will kill me!”

“I’ll do worse,” Morgana said with that same soulless smile. “I’m a professional, trust me. You will break. The only question is how much of you will be left when you do.” Before he could reply she pressed the button.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” he screamed.

She pressed it again… and again…

***

Jak’kul’sha cocked his head as the screams echoed down the hallway.

“That woman is not right,” He said.

Mul’sha’kal looked up from working on a sonic jackhammer.

“Well, she is paying us to commit mass murder. Of course she is not right,” she said.

“Yeah,” Bal’sur’kala said as he cut open another powercell. “She is not right but her credits are good. What’s the problem?”

“Something just does not add up. Where does she get those credits and why is she so interested in this gang?” Jak’kul’sha asked.

“She’s probably in a rival gang. They do shit like this all the time, right?” Ray’shel’zun asked as he cleaned his fully automatic shotgun.

“Does she look like she is in a gang? It seems to me she is more used to wearing a suit than wearing that outfit she is wearing now. It’s almost like it’s a disguise or something,” Jak’kul’sha replied. “If she is in a gang it is a suit and tie sort of gang, not this street crap and since when do gangs pay people like us to do their work? Don’t they handle their own business?”

“How the hell should I know? The only gangs I know about are the ones on video, same as you.” Ray’shel’zun shrugged.

“Maybe this gang pissed off the wrong people,” Mul’sha’kal said as she closed the top of the jackhammer. “This shell shaker is ready to rock,” she said with satisfaction.

“They definitely pissed someone off,” Ray’shel’zun said with a shrug. “Only thing that worries me is that we are low on ammo. Don’t think we can just pop out and buy a few hundred rounds at the corner store.”

“Already on it,” said a voice from behind a computer monitor, “We will have a shipment coming in within a week but it is starting to get pricey. We need to find another source. Another thing. I’m looking at the board and it says we should start using something called ‘Sani-Clear’ so we don’t leave our genetics all over the place.”

“What do you think all that mist was when we left? I didn’t make that aerosol grenade for my health, you know,” Bal’sur’kala said as he started to solder wires onto the powercell. “It was proteolytic enzymes and some other shit so we didn’t leave anything. That shell wax was also for the same reason, you know, the stuff I insisted on you wearing? Do you guys listen to a single word I say?”

“Z’uush, we listen but we don’t understand half of it. You said wax ourselves so we did,” Mul’sha’kal said and then she added in a flirtatious voice, “I just thought you were being kinky.”

“Yeah, I’m kinky. Not getting caught really turns me on.”

“So, what’s in that wax anyway?” Mul’sha’kal asked. “My shell has never been shinier. It really brings out the colors.”

“Oh, it’s a combination of enzymes and chemicals that denatures the upper… aaaand I just lost you.”

“Yup,” she laughed, “Makes shiny. No catchy. Got it.”

They all paused as a fresh set of screams drowned out their conversation.

***

“Look, lady, I’m telling you the truth,” the gang member sobbed. “Yeah, we get the stuff from Sheila but only the boss talks to her. I don’t know nothing. The boss says we gotta pick up the shit and we pick up the shit. They ain’t even there. It’s just sitting under a tarp or something.”

“Well, you aren’t being useful at all. Pity. At least I can have some fun with you before I kill you,” Morgana said as she pulled out a knife and set it on the table beside her.

“Wait!… Wait… Please...”

“Maybe you have something else I can use? Hmm?” Morgana asked with blank soulless eyes.

***

The Z’uush all fell silent as Morgana entered the room.

“Hello, my friends,” she said with a smile. “I have another target for you guys to handle.” She then placed a data crystal on a table. “Here’s the info and your pay. Oh, could you do me a solid and take out the trash?” She pointed towards the room where her captive was kept. “And to be clear I mean take him somewhere and dump him, alive.”

“Alive?” Jak’kul’sha asked, “You sure about that?”

“Absolutely. I need the little bird to fly back home to his nest.”

“I don’t like that. Best we off him.”

“The customer is always right, my friend.”

“Fine, alive.” Jak’kul’sha grumbled as she left.

***

Inspector Vance was looking at his computer monitor.

“Jesus, Freela. Have you looked at the Z’uush?”

“No.”

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“Three-hundred and sixty degree vision, chitin plating thick enough to stop normal stunners, internal organ systems that can take a couple of shots, and the worst part is what happens to them when they finally decide to not be nice. Here, look,” Inspector Vance said as he turned his monitor so she could see it.

“Shit. So that’s what we might be dealing with?”

“High pain tolerance, high reaction speeds, enhanced metabolism, dampened emotions… fucking killing machines. Terrans are still worse, a lot worse, but these guys...”

“Why are we just finding out about them now? Sounds like they would be the perfect warriors.”

“They also get very hard to control. Piss one off and it would kill their own officers. Hell, they might do it anyway just for fun. They don’t let even their own military turn. It’s too dangerous. I guess they have some way of preventing it.”

“How the hell did the insurgents get anything done, then?” Freela asked.

“Hell if I know. Maybe if we manage to catch these monsters we can ask them. Oh I forget to ask, did the lab geeks find anything?”

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Detective Freela replied. “It was a jackhammer like you said and those were plasma fragmentation grenades. They didn’t find one molecule of usable information. We still don’t know for sure if they are in fact Z’uush. It’s like they Sani-Clear’ed the whole fucking room. Even the corpses were cleaned… So that’s what was tearing up my antennae. That shit was nasty.”

“What fresh hell is this?”

“Never heard that one. Is it a humanism again?” Freela asked.

“Yeah, and a very apt one. Hey, you should know. Was it Sani-Clear?”

“No, Sani-Clear I can stand. That shit was rough. It was like Sani-Clear on pixie-dust.”

“Great, they make their own grenades and mix their own cleaner. Just great.”

A police officer approached the inspector’s desk.

“Inspector,” an officer said grimly. “I think your suspects just struck again.”

“Fuck,” Inspector Vance said and then turned to Detective Freela. “You don’t have to come...”

“No, no… I will grab some spray on the way there. I want to see this one through.”

***

“Jezus...” Inspector Vance said as he entered the crime scene. “This is worse than last time,” he said as he surveyed the carnage. He turned to Detective Freela.

“Same cleaner?”

“Yeah, same cleaner.” she said as she sprayed her antennae again. “It smells a little different but it has the same burn.”

“You going to be ok?”

“Yeah, it’s not that bad. Smells like it’s had more time to settle.”

“You are right. It’s been longer.” Inspector Vance said as he looked at his scanner.

“Did they come in through the roof?” Freela asked as she looked up a large hole.

“Yes,” he pointed at the corpses near the door. “The victims had guards posted inside and out so they just came in from above this time. I’m detecting traces of Terran high explosive compounds,” he said and then paused. “Oh I have a bad feeling about this.”

He turned to the crime scene lab techs and pointed up.

“Give me an isotope analysis on the explosive residue.”

“What’s wrong?” Detective Freela asked with concern.

“I think they manufactured the explosives here, in the capital.”

“What?” Detective Freela asked in alarm.

“It’s not a modern commercial Terran explosive. This stuff is an older compound, much easier to make. Oh Christ...” Inspector Vance trailed off in mid-sentence as he looked at one of the more intact corpses.

“I’m getting tired of saying this but, what?”

“Look at this poor son of a bitch,” Inspector Vance said as he opened the guy’s mouth and scanned inside. “Yeah, that cleaner they used last time? They led with it this time around. Imagine getting lungfuls of that stuff,” the inspector said grimly, “It was probably eating their lungs from the inside out before our killers even hit the floor. It explains the mess. They had more time to use the jackhammers.”

“Creator’s mercy!” Detective Freela said covering her mouth. “Monsters… Even these scum didn’t deserve this. It must have been horrible.” She looked at the inspector with curiosity.

“How did you know they led with the cleaner?”

“I’ve seen poison gas before,” the inspector said grimly.

***

“That bitch was crazy!” the scraggly gang member shouted from his hospital bed.

“Ok,” Inspector Vance said calmly, “So what exactly happened?”

“Did they test my nerves? Is my junk ok?”

“Yes, yes, and again yes,” the inspector said with annoyance. “They have checked your nervous system twice and nothing is wrong.”

“I feel weird, my junk feels weird.”

“Look, you got worked over by a neural inductor,” the inspector said. “You are going to feel weird but I promise you that you are perfectly fine.”

“She said my junk...”

“Interrogators say all sorts of things. She stopped before she did any real damage.”

“So my junk?”

“Ok, I’m done. We’re leaving. Good luck out there.”

“Wait! You can’t turn me loose! I’m a dead man!”

“Then you need to give us something we can use or we are out of here.” Detective Freela said. “You feel ready to talk about something besides your ‘junk’?”

The guy nodded.

“Ok,” Detective Freela said, “Let’s start with your name. What is your name?”

“G… Gerald.”

“Ok, Gerald, tell us exactly what happened.”

“I was like just walking along minding my business and the next thing I know I’m stripped naked and tied to a chair with these wires all over the place.”

“Did you see who grabbed you?”

“No, it’s just like I said, one second I was walking along and the next I was in the chair.”

“Has his blood been tested for any memory blockers?” the inspector asked a nearby nurse.

“I don’t think so. That isn’t part of the standard workup,” he replied.

“Check. Sounds like he got a dose of something.”

“And then what happened?” Detective Freela asked Gerald.

“And then that bitch zapped me for a bit and started asking about Sheila Donovan and how she knew my gang got their drugs from her.”

“And do they?”

“I want a lawyer.”

“Ok, you are free to go. We have nothing to charge you with so there is no need...”

“Yes! Yes! We get our drugs from her. Can I get locked up now?”

“Sounds like we are getting there,” Detective Freela said pleasantly, “And once you are in there we can place you in protective custody.”

“Protective custody… yeah, I like that,” Gerald replied.

“So she wired you up and ‘convinced’ you to talk?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I told her that we get our stuff from Sheila but only the boss knows how to talk to her or when to get the stuff.”

“And by stuff you mean drugs.”

“Yeah,” Gerald said as he dropped his head. “Yeah, drugs, lots of them.”

“Then what?”

“She got mad. Well not mad, just really scary and then she said that she was going to kill me after burning up all of my nerves, even my junk,” Gerald said with fear in his eyes.

“She certainly found his weak point,” Detective Freela said to Vance.

“He’s human, it’s a pretty safe bet,” the inspector smirked.

“So what happened then?”

“She said that unless I gave her something I was going to fry and then she started asking me about our hangouts and where we handled the stuff… the drugs…”

The inspector and the detective exchanged glances.

“Locations?” Detective Freela asked.

“Yeah.”

“Like the Greenblock warehouse?”

“I’m going to need protection. I ratted on the Red-Teeth and I’m as good as dead. I’ll give you anything. Yeah, I told her about the Greenblock warehouse. I don’t care about jail. I just want protection,” he said actually shaking.

Detective Freela felt a little bad for him. A violent gang on one side and these monsters on the other. She had never seen a better definition of the word “fucked” before.

“Look, I don’t normally do this during an interrogation but you don’t have to say anything else until you get a lawyer about any crimes but I need to know. Did you see anything other than a human, something that looked like this?” she asked as she showed him a picture of a Z’uush.

“No, no. I didn’t see nothing. I got zapped from behind and the next thing I knew I was behind a dumpster.”

“Do you remember anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem?”

“No… Wait… I heard… something weird… It wasn’t footsteps it was kind of a scratching… scuttling...”

“When he gets safely behind bars, find some sounds of Z’uush footsteps or something and see if he recognizes it,” the inspector said.

“You got it, boss.” Detective Freela replied.

***

“So who do you think the woman was that he was talking about?” Detective Freela asked after they returned to the station. “We’ve shown him just about every damn picture we have and he neither consciously or unconsciously recognized any of them.”

“A bounty hunter? She was looking for this Sheila Donovan it seems,” the inspector replied.

“One hell of a way to look for her. What is the death toll now?”

“Fifty-three,” the inspector replied.

“Creator’s mercy! No bounty hunter would do something like that. Fifty-three counts of premeditated murder? There would be a bigger bounty on them than their target! Something is fucked here,” Detective Freela said.

“Especially since there isn’t a bounty on Sheila Donovan,” the inspector replied

“There has to be. Isn’t she in the top one-hundred? I could have sworn I heard that name before.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it too,” the inspector said as he started typing. “Now this is fucked. She had a Federation wide APB, armed and dangerous, military force recommended, level one and a seven digit bounty but both have been rescinded.”

“Rescinded? By who?”

“Doesn’t say. It’s just… gone,” the inspector’s brow furrowed and he started typing again, “Oh shit.”

“I am now truly hating saying this but, what?”

“Look at the date it all went away. Pull up the media feeds for the couple of days prior.”

“Shit. You think it’s connected?”

“Hell of a coincidence,” the inspector said, “A massive data leak, most of it classified, and then suddenly all warrants and bounties were withdrawn? My guess is that they don’t know what else she has or they do know and they don’t want her getting arrested, getting processed, going to trial, and having the chance to say or release anything else.”

The inspector looked up.

“We have been removed from the equation," he said grimly, "Arrest warrants have been turned into kill orders. They don’t want her arrested anymore. They want her dead and any bounty hunters that have access those sorts of bounties are certainly not registered in our databases.”

“Even so, Federation Intelligence wouldn’t do something like this.”

“Let’s hope not for all of our sakes,” the inspector replied. “It doesn’t matter one way or the other. We are going to catch these bastards and then we will find out exactly what is going on. This is our city and we will protect it regardless of who or what is behind this.”