Tori (Patreon)

This is actually all I have for Tori at the moment. I know where the story ends, but I'm not sure what happens next. I'll post this scene, then I'm going to post a call for suggestions. I really hope you guys can help me brainstorm up a way to get her out of this mess!

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Captain Gutassi swallowed and the gigantic krakun stared down at him.

“What?” asked Officer Jintauro.

“Um, nothing,” said Gutassi, forcing himself to look down—look at his strand, at his paws, at anything other than the commissioner’s final message from beyond the recycler.

“No, not nothing,” said the krakun. He stared at the tiny geroo below him for a moment. “You’re acting very strange, very guilty suddenly.”

“Me?” squeaked the captain.

For an agonizingly long moment, neither said anything, then Jintauro flipped the frame around in his claws, paused again, and snapped it back on the magnetic mounts, right-way-up.

Gutassi let out a tiny sigh of relief, but only for a moment, because then the krakun was lowering himself back down, down on all fours, down on his belly, down until his massive snout loomed directly over the geroo’s head.

The captain tried to swallow but failed. His throat had gone so dry that he could only wheeze, “Sir?”

“I smelled your scent when I first came aboard,” rumbled the investigator. “Mammalian … sweaty … unclean.”

Gutassi lowered his ears and ground his teeth but refused to say anything.

“But now you smell many times stronger,” said the krakun. “Pungent … musky … foul. Why? Are you sexually aroused?” He tilted his head to get a look at the geroo’s crotch. “It doesn’t appear so.”

“Hey!” shouted the captain, covering himself with both paws. “I was frightened, okay? I was afraid you were gonna drop that on me. Geroo can’t help musking. It’s a reflex.”

Officer Jintauro stared at him and the captain slowly shrunk beneath the creature’s glare, but eventually the krakun blinked and pulled his head away. “Well, it’s revolting,” he said. “I’m glad cleaning crews wear environment suits, or I’d be left vacuuming my own carpet. Being on your ship is like searching a public restroom for clues.”

Gutassi crossed his arms. “Do you need anything else from me?”

“I need to speak with your engineering chief,” he said, then slithered out into the corridor.

Captain Gutassi kept his paws beneath him for a full ten seconds before his knees buckled. Then he held himself, trembling on all fours, trying to regain control. “That was too close,” he whispered to himself. “Far too close.”

By the time he returned to the shuttle bay, he found Jintauro speaking with Engineering Chief Onaha. She held a crutch in her left armpit and her right ankle was tightly wrapped in gauze. “That doesn’t look as bad as I imagined,” Gutassi said, trying to inject a little levity into his voice.

“Just a hairline fracture, sir,” she said.

“What was the cause of the accident?” asked the krakun.

“I looked over my shoulder,” said the engineer, “and when I tried to hit the brake, I pushed the accelerator instead. Just a stupid mistake.”

“Do you normally operate a lift? Shouldn’t that be a job for your subordinates?” asked Jintauro.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I think I’ll leave it to them from now on. Everyone was busy with tasks I’d assigned them, so I figured that I’d put the lift away myself. Now, I’ll never live it down.”

A silence stretched, then Officer Jintauro turned and started heading up the ramp to his shuttle.

“Okay,” sighed the captain, relieved that the krakun seemed satisfied, “I guess you’re done with us?”

Gutassi immediately regretted asking, for Jintauro paused mid-stride and turned to face the geroo. “Well, actually,” he said, “I do have one more question.”

The captain folded his paws behind his back and waited, eventually asking, “Yes?”

“On the three-way call with the fleet’s director,” he said, “there were ten geroo on the bridge. You and seven others were sitting at consoles—the bridge crew, I presume. Who were the other two?”

“Uh, err…” mumbled Gutassi. “I don’t recall.”

“One had a tan pelt, male, broad. Looked like he used to be more muscular,” said the krakun, “but he’s gotten a little doughy as he’s aged.”

“That sounds like my chief of security,” said Gutassi. “Must have been Tipohee.”

“The other was smaller—a female with a red pelt, clearly recovering from some injuries.”

The captain held his ears back, trying to keep concern from his voice. “That would be Tori. Also in security.”

The krakun took a step back down the ramp. “As I understand it, your ship had just brought its reactor back online, brought the trinity back up, perhaps only minutes earlier. As I understand it, this is rather a big deal as ship operations go—not something you would do just every day.”

Gutassi shrugged, but he was sweating hard. “We do a rebuild or two every year,” he said. “They’re not frequent, but common enough to be fairly routine.” He almost asked, “Why?” but then bit his tongue.

“That seems like a rather odd time to be briefed on security issues, doesn’t it?” asked Jintauro. “What had you been discussing?”

Gutassi frowned. He certainly couldn’t tell him the truth—that they’d been talking about covering up the commissioner’s murder—so he scrambled internally, thinking through the most important issues that security had been facing. “Well,” he said, “three days ago, someone attacked our computer chief with a metal pipe. Security is pretty certain who the culprit is, but he’s not in custody yet. I believe they were updating me on their progress.”

“I see,” said the krakun, taking another step down the ramp.

Gutassi willed the krakun to leave, but again, was disappointed.

“It looked like that Tori of yours was in pretty bad shape,” said Jintauro, “hurt badly enough that she’d hardly be able to keep the peace.”

Gutassi frowned as he watched the krakun step off the ramp entirely. “Yup. She got burned pretty badly.”

“And isn’t it common practice aboard ships such as these to simply euthanize hopeless cases,” he asked, “rather than let them be a burden that has to be supported by the rest of the crew?”

Gutassi crossed his arms. “This is my ship,” he reminded the krakun. “I set the precedents. I decide who is a burden.”

“And though burned nearly past recognition and forced to walk with a cane, you don’t find her a burden.” Officer Jintauro raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“It comes down to replaceability,” huffed the captain. “Take Onaha here—a crutch instead of a cane, and that broken ankle of hers is no big deal, but even if it had been a major injury, I can’t afford to lose her. I’ve got no one else on board with as much skill as she has. She’s not a farmer harvesting grain or janitor sweeping decks. I’d much rather accommodate her disability rather than have to operate without her.”

From his side, he could feel the engineer’s eyes on him. “Thanks, Captain,” she whispered.

“Tori is in the same category. She has skills I’d rather not lose,” said Gutassi. “Yeah, she’s in rough shape, but I’ve got a doctor that knows how to fix her, and once there’s a lull, once she’s cleared off her caseload, he’ll fix her up, and she’ll get the time she needs to mend.”

The krakun stared at him a long time before nodding. “She sounds like a very special member of your crew.”

“She is,” Gutassi replied without hesitation.

“Good,” Officer Jintauro said with finality. Then he turned and strolled back to the hatch. “I’ll meet with her in your commissioner’s office.”

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FL3vIThZ3B3BYdU28Q6Q1gl2Fy39wZxZaqbJGKbH37g/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?