The next day Kayla felt okay. Considering she had spent the past few days at rock-bottom, okay felt incredible. As she walked through the perpetual orange twilight of daytime under the Redtree canopy, she wondered how badly watered-down her black market hormones must have been for the same sized dose to be hitting this much harder.

She had chastised herself after injecting the night before. What if it was poisoned? Now she had a different thought: what if it was drugged?

She dismissed that thought. As an amateur psychonaut, she was very in tune with altered states. Right now, she was only on a heroic dose of reality.

The idea of the large figure going to all this trouble just to surreptitiously give her a bad trip didn't make sense. But neither did the idea of the large figure performing complicated biochemistry with free delivery on a cutthroat ungoverned shanty town.

Under the sanitizing wipes in the ammo box was a folded-up printout. On the front side was instructions for the autoinjector and an illustrated guide of injection locations around the body for various species. On the back was a map of Big Zig, a grid divided into quadrants and covered in little icons. Someone had hand-drawn a circle around a star in the lower-left corner. According to the legend printed in the margin of the map, that was where Zed Steadman was. So that was where she was heading.

This would read a lot more easily if there was a little "ZS" in the star, whoever made this was an amateur. The tegu thought to herself, having organized a few unofficial publications in her time. This was all flat colors and simple glyphs with weird technical artifacts on the borders, reminding her of a programmer's placeholder art.

Well hey, there's an opening. Maybe they need a graphic designer? I could make cute little labels for their vials.

It was a playful thought, but not a sarcastic one. If her relationship with Alia had taught her one thing, it was that it rarely hurt to ask.

Kayla didn't really know what she was expecting to find as she walked her way down the twisting unplanned streets. She had steered away from this part of town because it was much more active. There were other people on the street here, and some of them even lingered for a moment when they looked at her. It was hard not to get paranoid, even if she knew it was probably just because she was a giant lizard in a dirty poncho.

She still had a hard time not doing the same whenever she saw a human. Growing up in Nakuna she had never met one and it still felt weird to just see them milling about with all the other species. There was one in particular that had stood out to her, one whose dark skin had light splotches like her scales. She had only seen them once, but the idea that humans came in different patterns like tegu was a very fun concept to ponder.

Usually she could smell the drinking establishments in Big Zig before she saw them because of the rampant outdoor pissing. The stink of stale urine was mercifully free from this particular stretch of paved street. Now that she was thinking about it, the patina of discarded trash and rubble that covered the rest of the city was absent here as well.

Zed Steadman was nestled between the office of a private courier service and a storefront with a sign advertising medical supplies. Built from the dark red wood of the native trees, the boxy unpainted two story tall building was the only one that had a wheelchair ramp in front. The double doors at the entrance had knotted lengths of rope hanging from the handles. The courier and the medical depot had their business names painted directly onto the wood, but Zed Steadman was spelled out in raised letters mounted against the exterior with soft diode backlighting.

That was how a lot of the homes and businesses in Big Zig worked, someone would get a crew together and raise funds and plop down a bunch of identical buildings spaced out in a line. Then over the years people would haphazardly add onto their buildings and decorate them until each had its own distinct personality and vibe. Zed Steadman looked very unassuming, almost anonymous, which was unusual in a city where business owners had nobody telling them to tone their branding down a notch. Kayla had passed a dentist's office whose windows were covered in incredibly upsetting pictures of mangled and rotted maws and three different casinos where people were paid to yell at her as she walked by. Big Zig was not a city of taste of discretion.

The tegu stood there, looking over the building a bit longer. Now she realized why the area around here was so much more active: there were benches. There were trash cans. There was a water fountain. As someone who had been sleeping on the streets for almost a week now, she had very quickly learned that if you wanted to sit down in Big Zig you had to pay for it one way or another. Even when she saw workers taking breaks behind their buildings, they were uncomfortably squatting on sloped or segmented benches designed to keep vagrants from sleeping on them. Bastards.

The benches outside of Zed Steadman were crudely but sturdily built from the same wood as the buildings. Large enough that even she could lay down on top of one. There were even little raised planters of sunflowers growing between them.

This all tracked with her visitor from the night before. Whoever was in charge here was considerate. They were handy. And they were very good at picking up trash.

The mirrored windows out front didn't let her see inside, but they did give Kayla her first full glimpse of herself since arriving on Redtree. She wasn't surprised that her boots and her poncho and wide-brimmed hat (all black) were so scuffed and scraped, they were more costume than clothing; she had wanted to dress up for her first time meeting Alia and they were both huge dorks. She was surprised at how badly she was shedding, the black poncho flecked with white flakes even after several moments of brushing herself off.

She had been scavenging food with little luck. Most trash bins in Big Zig were locked due to the private trash collectors, so there was a lot of garbage blowing around the streets to sort through. And she definitely hadn't been taking her vitamins. So it made sense that with the stress of the trip she was falling to pieces.

She raked her short yellow claws through her long golden hair. There were only a few flecks of pink nailpolish left on her claws, but she had just dyed her hair before she left so she couldn't even see the roots yet. She gave her hair a few more rakes to shake her loose scales free, brushing herself off and working her way down. It was as much dignity as she could afford herself.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

She grabbed the handle and pulled it open, feeling a wave of cooled air wash over her. It was the beginning of Redtree's equivalent of a summer, and while the canopy soaked up most of the direct sunlight it still warmed the air as the leaves trapped the humidity. Kayla was a little self-conscious of not bathing in so long, but she wasn't going to waste one of the prep pads wiping the grime off of her scales just to impress some strangers.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the warm artificial light. It was a bar, all right. She had been hoping for something more interesting, that the large figure had been metaphorical or was using a cover story.

There was a bar with a tap and a row of stools. Tables and chairs scattered in groups. A corner with some mounted speakers that could be used for a small performance venue. All that was behind the bar was a large mirror and tall shelves with bottles of alcohol, no television. Everything was made of the same dark Redtree wood as everything else, and very little of it was painted.

Kayla had been old enough to drink for half a decade at that point, but she had only been to a few bars before this. When she turned 21 (the galactic imbibing age of the Nakunan empire) her college friends had taken her out to a bar and it fucking sucked: it was loud, it was crowded, there were video screens everywhere, and a round of drinks cost as much as her monthly grocery bill. She'd been to a few dive bars for small concerts since then, but she never understood why anyone would want to go out to drink when you could invite some friends over for way cheaper.

This place wasn't bad though. The music was quiet in the background, instrumental. It was high noon and only a few scattered people were sitting around; judging by their stained coveralls she guessed they had gotten off of the third shift at some industrial job and were winding down before bed. There was someone closer to her age sitting at one of the tables, seeming to be waiting for someone. Good sign. In her experience, when she went somewhere and everyone there was way older than her she was usually in for a bad time.

She looked around a moment longer, just to make sure nobody was going to walk up and go you need to leave.

The walls were covered with photographs, and she recognized the dusky lighting and the omnipresent canopy as Redtree. Some of the buildings even looked familiar. Kayla guessed that these were all pictures of the regulars and local events of note since the bar had opened. Community-minded, that tracked.

Nobody approached or even seemed to notice her, so she sidled on up to the bar. There was nobody behind it, only a little intercom buzzer and a lightly stained handwritten sign taped to the bar: Buzz me for service. Please be patient! with a little arrow pointing at the intercom. There was a crude panda face drawn beneath it.

She tapped the intercom with her claw and it let out a soft chirp, a diode lighting up on it. "Just a sec! I'm in my workshop, on my way up." a tinny voice answered from the intercom. Then there was a click and the diode switched off.

It was the voice from the night before.

Kayla leaned against the bar as she waited, her tail hugging her leg. This was way too much effort for a trap but she still felt nervous.

She still had time to leave. She chose to stay.

A door leading to the back opened and an enormous panda man walked out, his round black ears almost brushing the doorframe. He was wearing pink scrubs. He was a large and intimidating-looking man but his figure was deflated due to age and dramatic weight loss. Because he was a panda, his black and white coat was as vibrant as ever as he approached old age. It just hung on him a little more loosely.

Kayla felt a sparking of recognition. She had been so caught up in the moment that his name had passed her by, but it had felt familiar. She had seen him long before she ever came to Redtree.

When his eyes locked onto her, a big smile lifted his round ursine cheeks. "Wow, that was fast! There wasn't anything wrong, I hope?" he asked.

"Oh, not at all! Quite the opposite. I think that's better than the stuff from the pseudopharmacy back home." Kayla rolled with it.

"I get that a lot! I'm glad I'm good for something other than getting people drunk and making coffee." he said without bite.

The tegu still felt the tingle of unrealized recognition, like a sneeze that just wouldn't come out. "I'm sorry, but are you famous or something? I feel like I recognize you from somewhere."

The panda let out a barking bleat of a laugh that made his small belly bounce. "I'll be honest, that's maybe the last thing I ever want to hear someone say. It's been almost a decade since I 'died' and I keep hoping it will stick."

She thought back to high school. Back then she thought politics were boring, so she hadn't been paying attention to the news. She had a classmate who missed a few days of school, and it turned out that one of her parents had died in some attack. She didn't remember the details, but she did remember that picture of the scowling panda in all pink.

Maybe this train of thought could stay outside the station a little longer after all.

"That sounds like an interesting story, maybe you can tell it to me later?" she tried to move the conversation along politely, "Right now I haven't eaten a proper meal in days and I was hoping since you were so cool and all I might be able to get some help."

The panda seemed delighted at her words. "Speaking of interesting stories, I'd love to hear the story behind how you ended up here. Tell you what, my friend's going to be occupied with a nap for the next few hours. How about I make you something to eat and you tell me how you ended up here while I make it?"

Kayla's stomach gave her a jab but still she thought for a moment. "Don't you have a bar to tend? I don't want people mad at me because they're not getting their drinks."

Buster smirked, it looked childish on his aged face. "Oh, I'm not the bartender. I just make the alcohol. I don't even drink anymore, haven't for a decade at this point."

"You're behind the bar right now." she observed.

"My friend owns the place, so when they're short-staffed during the day I fill in. I kind of do whatever needs doing around here, I'm his assistant." the panda explained, "It's quiet this time of day but if anyone comes in they can buzz me. The regulars know the deal."

"Great! Well then, what have you got? I'm starving." The tegu almost licked her lips.

"Are you a meat eater? I could make some hamburgers, or some mushroom burgers if not." he asked, starting to walk towards a doorway behind the bar. It led to a small kitchen and he was beckoning her to follow.

"I'll take the mushrooms. I grew up in a meat eating family, and I'm really into rebelling against everything they stand for right now." Kayla explained a little defensively as she followed.

"I respect that a lot. I'll be honest, at this point I've got enough blood on my hands that I figure it's a little silly to start worrying about how ethical my food is. I'm not trying to scare you, I just know from experience to lead with the fact that I'm a war criminal." he said glibly.

Now things we clicking together. She remembered a documentary she had watched on the pseudonet a few years ago. The eerie surveillance footage of the panda in pink rifling through desks and workstations as dead bodies lay strewn about. The leaked footage of him taunting the dying Nakunan pilot through his cockpit window. Satellite scans of the incinerated wreckage where he made his last stand and took two Nakunan soldiers down with him. One of the most despicable terrorists in the history of the Empire, and single-handedly responsible for setting the field of Biologics back a generation.

"Oh fuck yeah, I know who you are now!" Kayla said with obvious excitement as Buster pulled an apron off of a hook and started tying it back, "You're Buster Harkness, the Butcher of Baldwin's Fall. I love traitors, man. Fuck Nakuna!"

Buster gave a strong, affirmative nod. "Fuck Nakuna. Glad we're on the same page."

With the apron tied, Buster turned on the grill and opened the tall stainless steel refrigerator. "You're lucky, Redtree is incredible for mushrooms because of the natural low-light environments." he casually remarked, holding up the blood-red mushroom caps.

He didn't say anything more as he began to oil up the grill, so Kayla decided to begin her story.