Rgrarshok pulled Ngralh into her quarters when she came back on board the Claw. The XO knew that something was up based on the sour tinge to her usual scent.

She didn't waste any time. "{Little-Sniffer has figured out that the tiny-chompers are the primary suspects. He also realized that we know the Egg's contents.}"

"{But he still doesn't know what those contents are, right?}" he asked.

"{Of course. He's not clairvoyant...at least, I don't think so.}"

Ngralh relaxed upon hearing the latter bit of news. To him, their orders to keep [Oscar] completely in the dark was just typical bureaucratic overreaction. Under normal circumstances his pack would officially 'follow' such idiotic orders while unofficially telling their smallest packmate what was really going on.

But not this time. This particular case was also under scrutiny by the Inquisition of the Dorarizin Empire, and for a crime of this magnitude everyone was operating on a strict zero-tolerance policy.

"{At least they can't censure us if he figured some of it out on his own,}" said Ngralh. "{How mad is he?}"

"{He's furious. To be fair, I understand why. Tell the crew to tread softly around him for a while. He did bring up a good point. Someone among the other races must have told the tiny-chomper thief exactly where that particular Egg was located.}"

"{That makes [Hnnresnthsh], the archivist, the most likely suspect. He ran the place, he knows its layout the best. What about [Sn'snna'hhrel], the night guard?]"

Rgrarshok rubbed the topside of one claw under her chin. "{I don't like her for it. By all accounts she's just there to have a part-time job after school...but we should be thorough. Let's have Little-Sniffer interview her. If she was involved, she might let her guard down around him.}"

Ngralh nodded an ear. "{I did check [Hnnresnthsh's] bank accounts. Nothing out of the ordinary, so if he did tell the tiny-chompers something he wasn't paid for it.}"

"{Maybe he was paid in other ways. During Little-Sniffer's interrogation, the rest of us will search [Hnnresnthsh's] apartment. Maybe he'll have some suspiciously expensive-looking gifts.}"

"{He may push back on that,}" replied Ngralh.

"{Let him. I've got authority to pursue this investigation as I see fit, and if he gets really upset he can take it up with the governor.}"

----------------------------------------

Oscar walked a good ten feet in front of Myyreh as they were led down the corridor by a trotting Karnakian who was clad in a blue suit. The raptor's claws tick-tacked on the wood floor of the hallway, which sported a rich polished sheen that befitted the domicile of the governor of an entire planet. Oscar wondered if the Jornissians found such a smooth surface harder or easier to slither on.

Wondering about mundane crap like that kept him from ignoring the cold atmosphere emanating from the Dorarizin behind him. Ever since he'd walked out of that shuttle, Myyreh acted towards him as if he was nothing but a co-worker. The chilliness hurt, but Oscar was going to be damned if he'd apologize for getting justifiably angry.

He wondered if the space-werewolves had a phrase that translated to 'sleeping on the couch'.

Their escort stopped at a thick wooden door which was just as grandly polished as the floor. "[She's in here. Call me when you're done...oh wait, do you have an implant?]"

"[I do,]" said Myyreh. "[I'll let you know when we're ready.]" Her tone was flat and neutral.

The Karnakian nodded his crest and, after a final long look at Oscar, tick-tacked off down the hallway. Oscar checked that his uniform was set right, then knocked on the door.

After a minute of silence he knocked again, harder this time. He looked at Myyreh in puzzlement. "Wrong door?"

Myyreh said nothing, just stepped forward and grabbed the door handle. She swung the door open as Oscar stepped back to avoid getting whacked. Judging by the shout that sounded out right as Myyreh cracked it open, the door was soundproof as well as heavy.

"[...DOES ANYBODY HAVE EYES ON THE SNIPER? WHERE IS THAT HARSAK-CRUSHED MENACE?]"

Framed in the doorway was a large nest-room with a bowl-shaped depression big enough to house several Jornissians, but at the moment only one occupied it. The sky-blue female twisted upon her nest's cushions, forming a complicated tangle with her body. She wore a wrap-around silver visor which encased her eyes entirely, and she gestured and pointed as if firing pistols in each hand.

"[I see him! I'm on it!]"

Oscar edged into the room, and just as Myyreh closed the door behind them the Jornissian pointed both hands forward as she unloaded her virtual weapons into an invisible foe. She shoved one fist into the air and shouted a triumphant "[HA!]"

Oscar started to approach her, only to get stopped by Myyreh's paw on his shoulder. "[Wait here.]" Without waiting for a reply, she brushed past him and stalked towards the be-goggled Jornissian. Oscar couldn't even follow Myyreh's paw as she snatched the headset off of the alien.

The Jornissian blinked in confusion, her eyes focusing on Myyreh for a second before puffing out her hood indignantly. "[Hey! What's the big idea, I'm in the middle of a raid...!]"

With another blurring movement Myyreh pressed her unsheathed claw into the middle of the girl's snout. "[You're [Sn'snna'hhrel]?]"

The girl was smart enough to not bluster. "[Y...Yeah?]"

"[You were just sent five separate messages requesting you to come to an interview.]"

Sn'snna'hhrel's hood drooped. "{Oh, is that what those PMs were about? I thought it was my mom bugging me.]"

"[It wasn't. Therefore the interview has come to you.]" She took her claw away and swept her other paw towards Oscar. "[Answer his questions and you can go back to your virtual slaughter.]"

The snake-girl's amber eyes widened. "{Wow! Is he really a [human]?}"

"Nope, I'm an espresso machine in disguise," replied Oscar. He caught an ever-so-slight twitch of Myyreh's lips as she almost smiled.

Sn'snna'hhrel didn't notice as she babbled on. "[I mean, I've seen a few of them here and there when they go out of their base, but only from a distance...oops, was I supposed to say that to you? We're not supposed to tell people from off-planet about the [human] base. You must be off-planet, I don't recognize your uniforms, hey are you here about the fake thingy? Crud, I wasn't supposed to say anything about that either...]"

Oscar waved an arm to get her attention. "It's okay, we're both with the Senate. Like you said, we're here about the 'fake thingy'."

Sn'snna'hhrel uncurled out of the bed-nest and approached Oscar, but got no closer than ten feet before Myyreh let out a warning growl. The girl froze and glanced behind her, then lowered herself to Oscar's height with her hands clasped in front of her.

"[What, ah, what did you want to know?]"

Oscar sighed and look a small notepad and pencil from his pocket. It was handier than lugging a terminal around, even if his packmates gave him grief about it. Egwreh had asked him why he didn't just use a rock to carve his notes into some tree bark.

"Let's start at the beginning, when you ran that scan on the Eggs..."

----------------------------------------

Hnnresnthsh sat in a grumpy lump in the entryway of his apartment. He folded his arms and tucked his hood in tight against his head and neck. In the main room beyond, the Senate team hustled about. The team tossed the functionary's dwelling with casual efficiency, making sure their disruption was minimal yet effective.

"[I can't believe you suspect me!}" yelled the Jornissian. "[I brought this to Rrre'nansh's attention!]"

Ngralh patted him on the shoulder. "{We just have to be thorough. Don't worry, when we're done it'll be like we were never here.}"

"[It's still ridiculous. If I had planned this theft no one would ever find out.]"

That statement brought to Ngralh's mind something that had bothered him since hearing Little-Sniffer's assertion. If someone from the colony had indeed plotted along with the tiny-chompers to steal the Egg, any competent plot would surely include a functioning copy. That would have made it impossible for anyone to find out the theft had ever occurred.

For that matter, if Hnnresnthsh was involved he'd have simply swapped in a functioning copy, pocketed the original, and dropped the original Egg right into the tiny-chompers' hands. It wasn't like there was anyone watching over his shoulder. Not for something as mundane as this.

Egwreh poked her head around the corner to the entryway. "{Sir, we found something. Please follow me?}"

Hnnresnthsh's hood twitched. "[What? What is it?]"

Ngralh gave the agitated Jornissian another pat. "{Probably nothing. Just wait here.}" From his tone, Ngralh made it clear that the latter statement was not a suggestion.

Egwreh led him back through a short hallway to Hnnresnthsh's bed-nest. Brgrarh straightened up from the bowl-shaped depression, and with one paw held up a labeled evidence bag. Inside the bag was a small, square plastic chip.

"{Found this stashed between the bed-cushions, sir,}" said Bgrarh as he handed it to the XO.

"{It's a media chip, so what?}" asked Ngralh.

"{Turn it over,}" said Egwreh.

Ngralh did so, and squinted at the tiny markings on the back of the chip. "{Wait. Is this tiny-chomper writing?}"

Bgrarh nodded with a feral and sharp-toothed grin. "{I didn't find any tiny-chomper DNA on the chip itself, but we've found some areas with tiny-chomper DNA in the apartment.}"

Ngralh matched his packmate's smile. "{Finally some physical evidence. Can we identify whose genetic material it is?}"

"{No. It's been severely degraded, as if it's been exposed to cleaning agents.}"

Ngralh handed the bagged chip back to Bgrarh. "{Get that up to the ship ASAP. Call Tiny-Sniffer and tell him to hustle back once he's finished his questioning. Don't tell [Hnnresnthsh] that we found this chip. We'll only mention the DNA evidence.}"

The XO clasped his paws behind his back and strolled back down the hallway to face an increasingly nervous-looking Hnnresnthsh. His voice was butter-smooth as he gave the archivist his most winning and be-fanged smile. "{Sorry about that, sir. Like I said, it's not a big deal. We did find a few patches of tiny-chomper DNA in the apartment. Do you know where that might have come from?}"

To Ngralh's surprise, Hnnresnthsh didn't get more nervous. Instead he looked rather relieved as he drew himself up to Ngralh's height. "[Well, of course I do! I held a party for some of my colleagues, and one of them brought along a [tiny-chomper] from the base.]"

"{You wouldn't happen to remember the tiny-chomper's name, by chance?}"

"[Oh, I couldn't possibly remember. They call themselves such ridiculous things, like [Steve] or [Cathy].]"

"{That's unfortunate. If we had a name, we could match that with the DNA and verify your story.}" Ngralh clicked his teeth together in simulated regret. "{Oh, wait, we can't. It looks like the DNA was exposed to a cleaning agent...as if someone was trying to get rid of it.}"

Hnnresnthsh gave a steady hiss of laughter. "[Well, it was a very successful party. I was cleaning up for a long time afterwards, you know?]"

"{Oh, I understand completely.}"

----------------------------------------

"[...I mean, sometimes I'll see something move, and I go check it, ya know? Like I should. But it's always a phrnar or something running across the lawn.]"

"What's a frng...fnal...phrnar?" asked Oscar. He was still getting the hang of Jornissian inflections.

Sn'snna'hhrel held out her hands about a foot apart. "[It's a little burrowing animal, about this big. They're harmless.]"

"Got it. So you have no recollection of any particular night where something out of the ordinary happened? How many of these false alarms do you get per night?"

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The girl shrugged. "Usually one? Most nights they don't happen."

Oscar gave a mental grumble. The signal-to-noise ratio was too high; if he really pressed her for a specific date they might wind up chasing shadows. He tucked away his notebook and pencil. "Well, that's all I have for now."

Sn'snna'hhrel's eyes gleamed. "[So we're done?]"

"Yep." As Myyreh silently handed the gaming headset back to Sn'snna'hhrel, Oscar regarded the device with curiosity. "So what were you playing? It sounded something like the Jornissian version of Call of Duty Five Billion."

The Jornissian glanced at him with an abashed tilt to her hood. "[No, this is a game called...don't get angry, but it's called [Human] Protection Squad.]"

Oscar wasn't sure if he should be flattered or offended. "You're shittin' me."

"[I'm not! You wanna see? Hang on, I'll put it in ghost mode so you can have a look around...]" She whipped on the headset, made a few quick gestures in the air, then took it back off and handed it to Oscar.

He raised an eyebrow at the very much oversized goggles unit, then shrugged and placed it over his head. After a bit of fiddling, Oscar found he had to hold it well away from his head and close one eye to see anything; the headset was clearly built for somebody with eyes set much wider apart than any human's.

The first thing he saw was an overpass. A human-scale overpass stretched about a hundred meters in front of him, crossing over the four-lane highway where he stood. He also saw a lot of crashed cars. Crashed into guard rails or dividers, crashed into each other. A few of the vehicles were on fire, adding a pall of black smoke that hung overhead. The area seemed to be deserted. He turned around, trying to get his bearings, and as he turned back to the overpass he saw the armored head of a Karnakian soldier pop up over its railing.

In moments a profusion of bright beams and glowing projectiles smashed into the soldier's position and some triumphant alien yelling filled Oscar's ears.

"[Yeah! Got him good!]"

"[How long before the time portal closes?]"

"[Another [twenty minutes]! The convoy with the [human] prisoners should be down this [highway]!]"

Four Jornissians now emerged from concealment among the wreckage and began slithering towards the overpass. One of them passed right through Oscar, who instinctively tensed at the sudden closeness. He turned and looked again as the quartet receded in the distance. Something about the terrain and the place looked familiar. Then it clicked.

"Waitaminute. This is Atlanta! Just north of the airport!"

"[Yeah, it's the latest level.]"

Oscar lifted the headset off of his head and handed it back to Sn'snna'hhrel. "Rewriting the invasion of Earth, eh?"

She looked at Oscar uncertainly. "[It's just a game. I hope you're not offended.]"

"Nah, knock yourself out."

Sn'snna'hhrel quirked her hood sideways in puzzlement.

"Er, I mean go right ahead. And we're working on this as fast as we can, so hopefully you'll be out of seclusion pretty soon."

The girl hummed happily as she donned her headset. "[Take your time. I've gone up [twenty] levels in the past week!]"

----------------------------------------

Oscar held the bagged chip closer to his eyes so that he could read the tiny English print on its surface. "'Good Times'? That doesn't tell us much."

Rgrashok gestured to the rec lounge's main display, which right now showed pictures of both Hnnresnthsh and Sn'snna'hhrel. "[The archivist's story checks out. He did indeed have a party at his apartment about four weeks ago, and a [human] from the base attended. One of the command staff, a Colonel [Jacobs].]"

"[There was too much [human] DNA, though,]" said Bgrarh. "[Too much to be from a single visit.]"

Oscar set the evidence bag back down on the central table. "Well that all depends on how much fun Jacobs had at the party, eh?"

"[What of the night guard?]" asked the Captain.

"She couldn't remember anything suspicious. There was one incident where some local kids tried to use the archive's grounds as a make-out area, but that was about three months ago. Well out of our window of opportunity. As for the girl herself, she didn't know much about what was stored there or where anything was located. The scans themselves are just a 'wave the wand at an Egg, wait for the [orange] light' kind of thing."

"[Hmm. Going back to the media chip, what sort of data's on it?]"

Egwreh shrugged. "[It's full of data corresponding to a standard [human] video codec. I haven't done an actual playback scan, just in case what's on it is banned by the [OIH].]"

Oscar crossed his arms. "Do you want me to look at it first?"

Rgrarshok stared at him for a few moments before responding. "[If you'd be so kind.]"

The human looked around the rec lounge, seeing a sea of worried eyes staring down at him. He figured that the Captain had spread the word that he knew that they knew, and everyone must be waiting for him to curse them all as faithless.

He wasn't going to do that. Until they had this whole mess figured out, he was taking the high road...unless some more damning information came along, of course. Oscar chewed at his lower lip a bit before speaking. "I will. And unless what's on here is some really banned data, I'll tell you what's on it. Deal?"

"[Deal.]"

"Good. Emma, do you have a wireless setup for reading this chip? I don't wanna take it out of the bag."

----------------------------------------

Myyreh glanced around the semicircle of her packmates, all of them staring at the door to Little-Sniffer's quarters. He'd been in there for at least [thirty minutes] and she was starting to get worried. Well, more worried. This whole mess was getting to her. Her initial sadness at having to lie to Little-Sniffer had veered into anger at his stubborn refusal to understand that they were all acting under strict orders. He seemed to think of it as proof that they didn't trust him. Couldn't he see how their paws were tied?

"{We should at least tell him the Inquisition is involved,}" said Bgrarh.

She couldn't help but agree, but Myyreh's guts clenched in further anxiety as the Captain shook her head. "{No. That's part of our orders as well. I agree that it's ridiculous, but we have to play this absolutely straight. Nobody's turning a blind nose to this case. We could all be put to questioning by a Veridicator before this is over.}"

Myyreh felt a bit of her unease loosen as Little-Sniffer came walking back out of his quarters. He rubbed the back of his head as he regarded her and the other team members. With his other hand he handed the still-bagged media chip to Egwreh.

"[How do I put this?]" he started, then paused. "[It's, um, definitely contraband media.}"

"{What else can you tell us?}" asked Bgrarh.

"[I can tell you what it is in general. It's porn.]"

Rgrarshok's ears rose in curiosity. "{Eh?}"

"[The chip. It's filled with videos of [tiny-chompers] doing the nasty.]"

"{What?}" Ngralh looked equally nonplussed.

Little-Sniffer rolled his eyes, then made a circle with his thumb and forefinger before poking his other forefinger repeatedly through the resulting hole. "[This. Do I need to spell it out for you?]"

Rgrarshok sighed. "{It seems our archivist has a fetish. How, er, 'extreme' is the material on there?}"

Little-Sniffer shrugged. "[Not really that far out there. I mean, it's pretty graphic as far as showing what bits fit into where but overall it's pretty tame all things considered.]" He paused and did the lip-chewing thing again, a gesture that made Myyreh want to hug him to her chest in the worst way. "[I'm missing something. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about the videos on that chip. It's gotta be related to this case, somehow.]"

Rgrarshok crossed her arms. "{Perhaps. Even if we confront [Hnnresnthsh] about this, he could just shrug and claim that it's someone else's chip. He could claim that the mysterious 'someone' dropped it during that party with the tiny-chomper.}"

"[It's still all tied together somehow.]" Little-Sniffer rubbed the side of his face. "[Something about...hey, [Ngralh], you mentioned that [Hnnresnthsh] actually got more relaxed when you told him about the [tiny-chomper] DNA you'd found?]"

"{That's right.}"

"[And before that he was pretty agitated?]"

"{Again, you claw directly at it.}"

Little-Sniffer smiled. "[What if he was scared that you'd found that chip? Maybe he forgot about it until you showed up at his door to search the place.]"

Myyreh couldn't help herself. She had to speak up. "{That's ridiculous! If this chip had anything do to with such an important theft he'd have destroyed it.}"

"{Unless he did simply forget,}" mused Ngralh. "{It's possible. It would explain why he was so chipper after I mentioned the tiny-chomper DNA.}"

They all stared at the bagged chip dangling from Egwreh's paw. "{This could have nothing to do with our case,}" said Rgrarshok. "{We'll only get one shot at confronting [Hnnresnthsh] about it.}"

"[Okay, so we need more info,]" said Little-Sniffer. "[Let me scout out the [tiny-chomper] base. There's gotta be a black market set up for [tiny-chomper] media.]"

Upon the Captain's nod, Myyreh stepped forward. "{Okay, let's go.}"

Little-Sniffer stared at her with a neutral expression. "[For now I should go alone, without you or Junior.]"

Myyreh's head-fur bristled. "{That's not happening. I'm supposed to protect you.}"

"[Nobody is gonna talk to me about criminal activity while you or some alien drone looms over my shoulder.]"

Her combined fear and anger made Myyreh's next words just slip out. "{Oh, is that your excuse? I know why you don't want me along. You still think we've betrayed you somehow.}"

The other packmembers shifted uncomfortably at her words as Little-Sniffer looked away. "[We're not having this argument, [Myyreh]. Not in front of the others.]"

Myyreh moved closer, planting herself in front of him. "{You still don't get it, do you? We can speak in front of them. They're my family. They're...}" She reached out and tucked a finger under his chin, gently forcing him to look up at her. "{They're your family. Please believe me, we don't think of you as a pup.}"

"[I know, I know. Orders.]" He moved his head off of her finger and headed down the hallway without a glance back at them.

----------------------------------------

The bartender set the glass of beer in front of Oscar. She was a wider, matronly-looking woman with a florid face and a long black ponytail hanging down against her flannel shirt. "You want anything else?" she asked.

"Shot of Jack, please," said Oscar. As the bartender moved away to pour the drink, Oscar looked around the saloon. Cheap and pre-made composite panels formed the walls, which were by now festooned with pictures and various knickknacks. The bar itself was just a big slab of epoxy-coated particleboard with a line of stools along it. This was not a place to go and admire the decor, this was a place to go and get drunk.

And even though he was technically on the job, Oscar felt the urge to get drunk. He nodded his thanks at the bartender as she set the shot beside his beer. He downed the whiskey in one slug, then sipped his beer and turned his attention to the patrons. It was mid-day, and there were only a few hardcore drinkers in the place. One greasy-looking skinny guy in jeans and a flannel shirt hung by his elbows at the far end of the bar, while three other, much fitter men in olive-colored military fatigues sat at one of the tables. The trio had a bottle sitting in the middle of the table with only a few millimeters left in it. That, plus their whooping, told Oscar that they were the ones who'd killed the bottle. Oscar figured that Mr. Greasy was his best bet, and picked up his beer.

"How's it going?" Oscar asked as he set the beer back down and seated himself on the stool next to the man.

Mr. Greasy responded with a shrug. "Same old same old. You're from off-planet." He didn't phrase the latter sentence as a question.

"Yeah, we got here a couple of days ago. Let me tell ya, I was pretty surprised this was here." Oscar waved his glass in general at the walls around him. "A pleasant surprise, though. Feels good to be back in a normal-sized place."

Mr. Greasy gave him some side-eye as he sipped his own drink. "Whatever you're fishing for, I ain't talking."

"'Scuse me?"

"Word's gone out. Nobody's gonna talk to you."

Oscar raised a curious eyebrow while he drank some beer. "Why not?"

"Because you're working for a buncha damn alien police, that's why. Nobody trusts you."

Oscar set the beer back on the bar with a thump. He stared down into the glass, then gave a dark chuckle. "Story of my life." The whiskey in his stomach now gave off a pleasant warm buzz, and that warmth loosened his tongue. "I thought I was trusted, ya know? I thought I'd proved myself, back there at the beginning. Two years, I've been with 'em. Two years, and we've caught a looootta bad guys. I thought they had my back. I never even questioned it. Until now."

If Mr. Greasy was going to respond, he never got the chance. A fragrant wave of booze and halitosis came wafting over Oscar's shoulder, followed by a slurred, mocking voice. "Awwww, is the human pet getting all upset about his owners?"

Oscar smiled and picked up his beer. He cradled the glass against his stomach with one hand as he slowly spun around on his stool. One of the trio now stood over him with crossed arms, the posture making his substantial chest and shoulders strain against his fatigues. He sported a buzz-cut and had aviator sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead. His two compatriots stood on either side, with similar flexing postures and unfriendly grins.

Oscar looked Mr Buzzcut in the eye as he sipped his beer. He said nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Greasy pick up his own drink and sidle away.

Mr. Buzzcut grinned wider. "We saw the pictures of you and that alien bitch holding hands. Tell me somethin'. When you do the deed, does she make you wear a collar?"

"I bet she does." said the one to Oscar's left, a black-haired guy with a jagged scar down one side of his face. "I bet she makes him walk around on all fours while she spanks him."

The one to Oscar's right snorted. "Big as she is, I'll bet she don't even feel him when they fuck. He must have a thing for big ol' sloppy alien pussy."

Oscar took a swig of his beer and still said nothing.

Mr. Buzzcut leaned in. "Well? You gonna speak?"

Oscar leaned back against the bar. "Y'all seem pretty fond of the sound of your own voices. I figured I'd give you the floor."

The bartender's voice sounded from behind Oscar. "Come on, guys, not here. If you're gonna fight, take it outside."

"It's all right," said Oscar. "There's not gonna be a fight."

The trio surrounding him laughed, adding to the miasma of bad breath and alcohol fumes surrounding Oscar. "You think so?" leered Mr. Buzzcut. "Only way we let you walk out of here is if you lick our boots."

Oscar sipped again at his beer. "Allow me to elucidate. You see, the word 'fight' implies at least some equality between the combatants involved." He waited for the fancier words to sink through the four inches of Mr. Buzzcut's skull.

Finally Mr. Buzzcut figured out Oscar's vocabulary. "You think you can take us? I don't care how big you are, it's still three on one."

"Very true," mused Oscar. "Not to mention y'all are pretty big yourselves. You must do a lot of lifting. Plus you've been in a lotta fights too, am I right?"

Mr. Scar traced a finger down the old injury on his face. "We've been in plenty."

Oscar's gentle smile grew wider as he realized that, for the first time in a long while, he was now the most dangerous motherfucker in the room.

"That's all veeerrry impressive. Now me, I've been puttin' people in the fuckin' ground since before y'all were just a gleam in your mommas' eyes. So. How about...I buy y'all a drink, we shake hands, and then I don't have to throw y'all a beatin'."

Mr. Buzzcut snarled as he reached out. He grabbed the front of Oscar's uniform and yanked hard, expecting to have to pull Oscar up towards him.

Instead Oscar went with the pull, surging off of his stool. Mr. Buzzcut stumbled as the force of his backwards yank made him over-correct. Oscar took that opportunity to threw his beer into the eyes of the attacker on his right. At the same time his left elbow slammed up into Mr. Buzzcut's trachea, and as the man gagged Oscar used his beer-hand to shove the idiot backwards.

As Mr. Buzzcut toppled to the floor, Mr. Scar at Oscar's left swung with a wild hay-maker. Oscar shrugged up and took the blow on his shoulder instead of his ear, while at the same time he smacked the bottom of his beer glass hard into Mr. Scar's temple. The man went sideways onto the bar, his eyes already dazed as his head thonked off of the unyielding wood. He slid down off of the bar into a puddle of tangled limbs on the floor.

Oscar turned. The last one standing finished wiping the beer out of his eyes as he stared in horror at seeing his two buddies now lying on the floor. Mr. Buzzcut grasped at his own throat with a pained gurgle, while Mr. Scar wasn't making any sort of noise at all. The remaining man screamed and charged. Oscar slipped the oncoming punch as he stepped aside to trip the man. As his attacker sailed past, Oscar gave the back of the moron's head a good push as well. The charging man flopped forward like a beached whale, his skull bouncing off of the floor with another satisfying thonk before the man went limp.

The saloon was once more silent. Less than five seconds had passed since Mr. Buzzcut's initial yank.

The bartender was now pale as a sheet. "Holy shit."

Oscar sighed and stepped over the prone form of Mr. Scar. He gave the bartender a sheepish shrug as he set his now-empty beer glass back on the bar. "Yeah. Sorry about that. You'd better call the MPs."

Mr. Greasy spoke up from his new position, which was tucked into a corner and as far away from Oscar as possible. "There's cameras everywhere, they gotta be on their way..."

As if summoned by Mr. Greasy's words, Oscar heard the saloon entrance door slam open behind him. He turned with exaggerated care and saw three men standing in the doorway. They also wore khaki-colored fatigues along with white armbands, and they all held exotic-looking carbines held in the low-ready position. Their eyes went wide as they surveyed the carnage in the room.

Moving with the same slow care that he'd used to set down his beer glass, Oscar raised his hands. "Relax, fellas. I'm going quietly."