Game Night 1 (Patreon)

Once upon a time, we played a bit of an RPG set in the Hayven Celestia. @RickGriffin requested that I write a scene about that storyline.

———

Captain Eru growled in frustration and curled his paw into a fist. The mission had grown ridiculous. Their commissioner had always been obsessed with secrecy, but ever since they had discovered the anomaly, she’d gone completely around the bend.

For starters, instead of towing a gate out to the anomaly, she’d brought it … well, he had no idea where—somewhere not too far away. He doubted the gate even had a sister gate in orbit of Krakuntec—or wherever they were receiving their orders from. Instead, whenever the commissioner wanted direction from home, she’d send a shuttle—a shuttle, damn it!—to fly out to the gate, use it to hop somewhere else, fly to another gate, and so on until her secret message had been delivered and returned.

Instead of just calling and asking what they’d like to do, each communique was costing them six weeks round trip! And frankly, if the crew had to host that moody krakun much longer, they’d be a revolt.

And if having the commissioner around all the time wasn’t bad enough, she’d segregated the crew by what they know! Anyone who knew about the anomaly—for example—was forbidden from talking to anyone who didn’t, even if that meant keeping crewmembers away from their mates.

The krakun may think that they’re the smartest beings in the galaxy, he thought, but separating families was the dumbest order ever issued! If anything were going to push the crew to mutiny, that would do it. No geroo would ever be loyal enough to choose their job over their mate.

Eru waited as patiently as possible while Commissioner Oyatoyani swept the conference room for listening devices … again. The room was always kept locked, so exactly how someone would sneak one in was beyond the captain, but at this point in the mission, a few extra wasted minutes meant nothing.

Satisfied, Oyatoyani put away her scanner and loomed over the orange geroo. “Captain, we’re ready to move on to the next phase of this operation,” she said. “It’s time for a live mission.”

The captain held his ears motionless, hiding his apprehension. “Into a gravitational anomaly?”

“Yes, of course, into the anomaly, you tiny-brained mammal!”

Eru exhaled slowly and ran a palm down his face. “I really doubt anyone is going to volunteer for that sort of mission, Commissioner.”

“Then order them to go,” the massive beast growled.

The captain shook his head. “Ma’am, if I did that, I’d push the crew to mutiny. They’re already on edge as it is.”

Oyatoyani frowned. “Fine, we’ll bribe them.”

The captain waited for an explanation, but when none seemed forthcoming, he raised his palms in question. “With…?”

“None of your concern,” she said. “I’d rather do it myself anyhow. I’ll pick the candidates and you send them to my quarters to be briefed.”

# # #

Saja stood, rolling her glass tea mug slowly back and forth, warming her palms. She had no idea why she’d been summoned to the commissioner’s quarters. If she’d screwed up in her duties, somehow, she definitely hadn’t realized it. She’d barely seen any patients this week and there hadn’t been any unexpected follow-ups or complications.

Could the commissioner be sick? It was certainly possible. Despite how healthy krakun tended to be, all creatures can get ill. But if so, why would they call her? Of all the doctors on board, she had the least seniority.

Three other geroo waited with her in the commissioner’s quarters, but Saja didn’t recognize any of them. Two of them had grimy fur—presumably, laborers of some sort. And the other? Twitchy, nervous, shifty … either on drugs or with something to hide—not the sort to be trusted.

No one said a word, but with each passing moment, Saja felt more and more compelled to interrupt the krakun from whatever it was she was reading. Someone must have made a mistake! Wherever trouble the other three were in, she had nothing to do with it. She had finally gotten up the nerve to speak when the commissioner looked up from her strand.

“The four of you are being moved to group A,” she said. “Until this mission is complete, you are to cut off all contact with anyone in either of the other groups.”

Saja gasped. Her friends and family were in group C! She couldn’t talk to any of them until the end of the mission? How long was this mission going to last? How was she supposed to see patients if she couldn’t go back to her med bay?

“The four of you will volunteer to go into the anomaly, recover some stolen items, and return to the Broken Fields III.”

“Wait, what?” Saja gasped, choking on a sip of tea. “An anomaly? Go where?”

The krakun sighed. “The anomaly is like a hole in space to a shrinking pocket universe. Your mammalian brains are too primitive to comprehend it, but the long and short of it is this…” she said. “Millenia ago, there was a heist of some very valuable artifacts. The getaway ship was never seen again … until we spotted it on the other side of the anomaly. You’re going to go in there and bring them back. Simple.”

“Uh-huh,” muttered Saja. No one else was speaking, so she appointed herself the group’s spokesman. “So, you want us to fly the shuttle to another universe—”

“No, the anomaly is only five meters across—too small for the shuttle,” she said. “But there is a gravity gradient from our universe into theirs, so you’ll suit up and sit on a platform that we’ll lower into the anomaly.”

Saja stared, the insides of her ears bone white. “Ma’am, I’m not certified to use a spacesuit.”

“Go watch a video,” the commissioner said with a dismissive flick of her claw. “You’ll be fine.”

The twitchy geroo crossed his arms. “No way. Ain’t going,” he said.

“Dunart?” she asked with a grin. The twitchy geroo nodded and she lowered her head until her two-meter long fangs hung in front of his face. “You should wait for me to describe the mission in its entirety.”

With one claw, the commissioner slid two large crates from the side of the room, so they were arrayed before Dunart. When she opened them, his ears lifted, and his eyes opened wide. “The ship has probably been abandoned for thousands of years, but I’m not sending you in unarmed. These plasma rifles will cut through any resistance you might face.”

Dunart slowly reached a trembling paw toward the second chest. This box held no weapons of any sort. Instead, it was stacked full clay blocks, each wrapped in cellophane. The contents reeked of engine oil.

Commissioner Oyatoyani carefully closed the chest before he could touch the contents. She waved a talon at him. “Nuh-uh. Not until the mission is complete. When you have recovered the artifacts, then you are to plant the contents at strategic points throughout the ship. You will leave them—and the rifles—behind on a timer.”

Dunart looked like he was about to start drooling, but that only made Saja all the more anxious to stay home. The tea inside her mug rippled from her trembling paws. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t know anything about artifacts and weapons. There must be some sort of mistake—”

“Saja? You’ll just be along for the ride,” said the krakun. “You’ll bring a medical kit with you and tend to any bumps and bruises. That’s all you have to do.”

Saja’s ears hung low. “I do want to make sure the crew is taken care of,” she said, “but surely there’s someone else on board who is more qualified…”

“I’m not going,” said one of the laborers.

“Me neither,” said the other.

“Did I mention the bonus for going? The hazard pay I’ve arranged for you?” asked the commissioner in the sweetest voice she could manage. “Ten thousand credits for each and every one of you.”

That made their eyes go wide. Ten thousand credits was a lot of money. It might not be a life-changing sum for a doctor like Saja, but it clearly would be for the laborers. She could tell by the way they held themselves that they’d take the risk.

One by one, the other pairs of eyes turned to Saja. She stood there for a long while before she shook her head. “No, I don’t—”

“No? That’s a shame, really,” said Oyatoyani innocently. “I hadn’t even gotten to the best part of my little incentive package. You see, should you manage to return with the stolen items, you each will also receive…”

The krakun smiled so wide that the geroo could see each and every one of her teeth. She waited the longest while, just grinning in silence.

“Ten years,” said the commissioner.

Saja gasped and her mug, forgotten, shattered into a thousand pieces across the deck, but the doctor scarcely registered that she’d lost it.

To be allowed to live until seventy instead of sixty? That would be the best reward of all…

———

Reviewer’s link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hqAsws1xMFMGyetXNgH13FCp0n5zTm-e90LZev7tFcM/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?