Tori (Patreon)

Big post here. How Tori gets out of trouble.

In other news, finally settled on a title for this story (Executioner's Gambit) and a name for the ship (the Sailor's Gambit I).

———

Tori hobbled out of the airlock, her eyes avoiding the gigantic green krakun looming over her. The office chair she used to sit in when she visited with Daskatoma had been returned—the captain had removed it prior to Troykintrassa’s visit—and she was immediately grateful. This interview was liable to be difficult enough. She wouldn’t want to try to do the whole thing standing. “Thank you for providing me a chair,” she said as she took a seat.

Officer Jintauro glanced down from his strand, dismissing her gratitude with a wave of his claw. “The captain had an officer deliver that. Thank him.” Tori had been about to reply, but the krakun launched directly into his work. “You know, from the moment I first saw you on the bridge, I knew that you would turn out to be the most interesting part of this investigation.”

Tori swallowed. What did that mean, precisely? Was he onto them? Did he know that they were responsible for the crash? Or was this just some sort of mind game? She tried to smile, but it didn’t show in her voice. “Well, then I’m afraid you’re in for a very dull case, sir,” she said. “There’s nothing interesting about me.”

Now she had his full attention. His eyes opened wide, and he set his strand down on the deck—face down, she noted—and lowered his weight down onto his elbows to bring his face closer to hers. “That’s hardly true, Tori,” he replied. “While I was waiting for you, I looked up your records. You found a serial killer!”

“I was nearly killed by a serial killer who then took his own life, you mean,” she sighed. “It was terrifying. There was nothing uplifting about it.”

Jintauro opened his palms around her. Is that supposed to make me feel welcomed? Threatened? she wondered. “And then, when the Sailor’s Gambit couldn’t track down their own serial killer, they called you in for help.”

Tori shook her head, eyes downcast. “And we’ve still yet to apprehend him.”

The krakun drew his claws closer around her, as if he planned to scoop her up, chair and all. The rusty red geroo closed her eyes and prayed to the ancestors that he wouldn’t.

He spoke slower now, “I found it interesting that such a badly injured crewman was in service aboard this ship.” He tilted his head to one side and then the other, studying her as if she were a stain he’d noticed on the deck. Then he moved a little closer, his voice taking on an almost conspiratorial tone. “I was under the impression that the company reserved medical treatment for those who would fully recover from their injuries.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. If he was trying to make her feel special, he failed. Or was he hoping she’d feel insignificant? “Well, then I’m thankful that life aboard a gate ship isn’t quite as bleak as you envisioned, sir.”

“I see,” he said, the smile falling from his face. He raised an eyebrow. “So, if I looked back through the ship’s records, you don’t think I’d find plenty of cases where they’d euthanized crew with less extreme injuries?”

“I suppose each ship is run differently, has different priorities,” she said, trying not to snarl. “Fortunately for me, I transferred from a ship that didn’t give up on me immediately.”

After a moment, the krakun flipped his strand over and poked some icons until he recalled a paused video of the three-way call between him, the captain, and the former-commissioner’s boss. Gutassi was frozen mid-word, looking worried when Jintauro had called the Sailor’s Gambit a “wayward ship”.

With a pinch of his enormous talons, the investigator zoomed in on the image of Tori, sitting on a chair to the side of the bridge. “I also found it interesting that while his ship was coming back online from a reactor rebuild—something that only happens once or twice a year—the captain’s focus was on you instead of his engineering crew.”

Was that strange? she wondered. Does the captain normally oversee such things personally? She shrugged and folded her paws into her lap. “I think that’s a lot less interesting than you make it out to be, sir,” she said. Then letting a harsher tone enter her voice, she added, “The murder of nine geroo might not seem significant to you, but it certainly does to us. And searching for a serial killer? That happens far less often than any sort of maintenance work.”

He allowed himself half a smile but only for a moment. He shifted his weight onto one elbow and spoke with the flourish of his opposite claw. “And then, no sooner than I request an interview with you, I find you talking privately with the deceased’s nephew.”

“I was telling him that he shouldn’t be here,” she said, “that he should stay away until your investigation was complete.”

“That is certainly true,” he agreed. Then he squinted at her. “But this investigation is giving me good reason to be suspicious beyond how you keep turning up. If you’d seen how guilty the captain acted during my interview, you’d feel the same way.”

Tori’s stomach tumbled. Crap! The captain was a seasoned professional, accustomed to speaking with krakun regularly. If the officer’s questions had tripped him up, then what chance did she stand? All around her, her tattered fur was up on end, but she tried her best to play it cool. “Do you interact with geroo often?” she asked. “Your people and mine are very different. Had he been interviewed by another geroo, I suspect he’d have left a very different impression.”

He pursed his lips, as if considering it, but then gestured to the open hatch on the far side of his chamber. The lower edge of the massive door was bright and shiny, polished by power tools after the engineering crew had ground away the evidence that the hatch had been welded shut. “And new construction or repairs that take place after a suspicious death? That’s a red flag too.”

Tori sidestepped the bait, “So Krakuntec views Commissioner Troykintrassa’s death as suspicious? It sounded like a mundane accident to me.”

He dropped his palms to the deck and stared at her with contempt. “Troykintrassa’s death was definitely suspicious,” he said. “He came aboard, then the gate went offline for seventeen hours, during which time it was impossible for him to communicate with anyone planetside. Then your captain brought the gate back online just long enough for him to leave before going offline again for another twenty-eight hours?” He paused a moment, as if waiting for an explanation. “That certainly is convenient. Lots of time when no one could peek in on what was happening aboard this ship.”

Tori shrugged. “I suppose you’d have to take that up with the commissioner. As I understand it, the captain was just following his orders. Besides, I think you’re mischaracterizing the gap between downtimes. We were online a lot longer than it took him to go through the gate.” Then she leaned forward slightly, her ruined ears raised. “And during all that time, we never received a distress call from the commissioner’s shuttle. There was no indication that anything unusual was afoot, any reason we shouldn’t have carried on with the reactor rebuild that Commissioner Troykintrassa had ordered.”

He pointed at her with a talon. “Well, that was suspicious too! When the victim returned to Krakuntec space, he was supposed to radio in his access codes, but he didn’t. There was no communication from the shuttle of any kind.”

Her heart beat faster and she started to sweat. Of course, he didn’t radio in. Onaha removed his radio! But she covered it with a shrug, laying back in her chair. “That sounds a lot more like a sign of his arrogance rather than whatever it is you’re implying, sir,” she said. “If the commissioner were having mechanical difficulties or problems with his radio, he could have turned right around and returned to the shuttle bay. Engineering would have had a chance to repair whatever was malfunctioning or could have called for someone to come and pick him up if the work were going to take long.”

Officer Jintauro grinned and tapped the tips of his talons against the deck. Through her seat, she could feel the vibrations.

“You ask just as many questions as I do, Tori. I knew that you’d be interesting to speak with.” Then he sat back a little. “Tell me about this killer you’ve been hunting. I understand he’s a poisoner.”

Tori gulped. He knows! He knows that Thojy put poison in the commissioner’s drink! She could feel herself tremble, but she struggled to keep it out of her voice, clearing her throat twice to regain control. “I hope you’re not going to imply he put quinalbarbitone in the commissioner’s brandy next.”

His eyes went wide, and he pulled his head away. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! she silently cursed herself. Why did you say that?

“Quinalbarbitone in his … brandy?” he asked quietly.

Tori forced her ears to smile. “That’s how the killer first struck. He put quinalbarbitone in a geroo’s brandy.”

Jintauro opened his mouth for a long, silent, “Oh!” before he winked at her. “Perhaps your killer has refined tastes!” he said. “That actually sounds quite pleasant. I might have to try Qs in brandy.”

Tori blinked, baffled how he could trivialize something as extreme as a murder. “Sir? You’re joking, aren’t you? That’s a deadly poison.”

“Well, it is to geroo, I suppose,” he chuckled. “Quinalbarbitone is a party drug on Krakuntec. It unclutters your mind for a few hours. It’s not even illegal.”

She stared at him, wondering if he was truly serious. Then, in a whisper, “It is?”

“Is that surprising?” he asked. “I suspect that Planetary Acquisitions minimized how many things on board could be used to harm a krakun. Troykintrassa probably would have been far more hesitant to visit if the geroo could easily exact vengeance upon him.”

Tori glared at him. She hated how he spoke about her people. “Short of blowing up the ship, you mean.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of sabotaging his shuttle.”

There we go, she thought, finally admitting what’s on his mind. “Ah,” she sighed, “I think that what you imagine my people to be like is a far cry from reality, sir.”

“No?” He gave her a grin of meter-long fangs. “You don’t think the geroo are technologically savvy enough to make sure his shuttle crashed?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I think you’re envisioning life aboard this ship as some sort of dystopian nightmare, and it really couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Jintauro turned his head, studying her with one huge eye. “You don’t think any of the crew could want Commissioner Troykintrassa dead?”

“Sir, the commissioner only visited the ship once every fifty years,” said Tori in frustration. She flopped back into her seat. “Most of the crew hadn’t even been born the last time he was here, and most of those who were probably don’t even remember that visit.” She swung her legs back and forth awhile. “I didn’t research this, but I really doubt his last inspection was particularly noteworthy—certainly not worth someone plotting revenge against him for these last fifty years, if that’s what you’re imagining.”

“Fifty years is not that long to hold a grudge.”

“Not for a krakun, perhaps,” she replied, “but it’s a lifetime for a geroo. Besides, when the company conducts a biweekly inspection, the captain is typically the only geroo that ends up interacting with the commissioner. The rest of the crew just keeps their distance and goes on with their day.”

Tori sighed. “You see, we’re born, we find a mate, we raise our cubs, and live our lives almost entirely without company interference. No one aboard has a motive to harm the commissioner. In fact, we have all the motivation in the galaxy to make sure that no harm comes to him.

“What do you think the company would do if one of us tried to kill a krakun?” she asked him. “They wouldn’t try to find the culprit. They’d purge the entire crew and start over fresh, just in case. If you suspect foul play, then we’re the last people to consider.”

Officer Jintauro sat back on his haunches as if considering her words, so she pressed on, “Now your people, no offense sir, are the ones truly living in a dystopian nightmare. Unlike on this ship where we do regular maintenance on everything to protect the lives of our crew, the corporations on your planet do as little maintenance as necessary so they can maximize their profits.

“And if I understand correctly,” she said, “once you close out your investigation and declare the commissioner’s death an accident, the krakun tradition is for his relatives to sue the company for negligence, and then the company is expected to pay them off by ‘settling out of court’ so they don’t have to admit responsibility. Do I have that right?”

Jintauro chuckled quietly at her simplistic view of his society before finally admitting, “More or less, I suppose.”

She raised her palms. “Well, there’s nothing here for you Officer Jintauro. All we have is a ship full of geroo, doing their jobs while the commissioner checked in on us. We came back online to find that corporate neglect had killed someone that we don’t really know that well.” She smiled, feeling a little relief that perhaps the danger had passed.

“Perhaps,” he said with a smile, “but you still intrigue me, Tori. I meant it when I asked about the case you’re on. I’d like to know about the serial killer you’re tracking.”

Tori’s relief faded, and her anxiety set back in. The most interesting thing about this case is the last thing I’d ever tell you, Jintauro; she thought, that the killer is friends with the deputy commissioner.

Tori scratched at her ruff while thinking about the case she’d spent so much time on these past two weeks. That could explain how he was able to get through door locks without leaving a trace—Daskatoma would have even more access than the captain! But did Thojy steal credentials from the commissioner, or did Daskatoma give them to him willingly? she wondered.

Perhaps the commissioner directed the murders. How could that even make sense? Why would Daskatoma want to start a revolt, and why would Thojy ever go along with it? They both knew doing so would put everyone’s life at risk!

He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. “I’m sure it’s less interesting than the cases you’ve worked, Officer Jintauro.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never had a serial killer case, Tori.”

Tori frowned, feeling slighted once more. “Because krakun are better people than geroo?”

“I wish!” he boomed. He dabbed a tear from his eye and shook his head. “No, because krakun killers tend to get caught before they manage to kill a second victim.”

Tori covered her muzzle with a paw, stalling for time. The last thing she needed was for the krakun to start wondering about poison. She needed to bury this conversation now and get back to the accident narrative if she was going to save everyone’s life.

“Well, we don’t have any evidence linking our suspect to the poisonings,” she explained. “We don’t have fingerprints or DNA traces at our disposal. The company doesn’t see a value in security cameras, so unless someone spots a crewman tampering with food or drink, we’d have no way of knowing who did it.”

Jintauro nodded. “So, then what makes your suspect a suspect?”

“The final victim wasn’t poisoned,” explained Tori, “she was bludgeoned, and she managed to stab her assailant before she died.”

The krakun squinted up his face. “Then why do you think it was the same killer? Why wouldn’t he have poisoned her too?”

“Probably because we tightened security after he stole the poison,” Tori said. “According to the stocking records, he walked off with eight tablets of quinalbarbitone, and without being able to get his paws on more, he couldn’t kill victim number nine in the same way.”

The krakun lowered himself once more and leaned on his elbows, clearly interested in what she had to say. “So, a blood trail led you to the killer?”

“Metaphorically,” said Tori. “He didn’t show up for work the next day.”

“Probably because he couldn’t explain how he’d been injured.”

“Probably,” Tori agreed. “When we searched his apartment, there was plenty of evidence that he was the one who’d been stabbed, but he and his family had gone into hiding. I’m sure we’ll find him eventually, sir, but for now, we’re still searching.”

Jintauro nodded and tilted his head. “Who is he? What’s his job on this ship?”

“His name is Thojy, and he works in computers. I’m not sure if he’s a programmer or maintains them or what.”

The krakun tapped at his strand again to pull up Thojy’s records. “Could he have tampered with the computers aboard the shuttle?”

Tori’s heart climbed up into her throat. It beat so hard she could feel her pulse inside her brain. “Sir, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then please stop,” she begged. “Like I said, he had no motive to hurt the commissioner.”

“And the other nine?” he asked, looking up from the communicator. “He had a motive to kill them?”

“When we catch him, I’ll ask!” she said. Then she climbed from her seat and hobbled over to where his strand lay on the deck. She climbed on top of it, trying to block his view. “But no matter the reasoning, no matter whether he killed just the last one or all nine, the punishment is still the same. When we catch him, he will get executed.” She drew a deep breath and then slowly released it. “Please don’t go trying to hook him into this accident!”

He stared at her and shook his head. “Justice needs to be served.”

Tori’s pulse raced and her head felt light. What was wrong with this krakun? Did they all care so little about the lives of slaves?

Then it dawned on her. “This isn’t about justice, is it?” she asked. “You’re not looking to make sure someone is punished for wronging the commissioner. You’re hoping to advance your own career!”

Jintauro pulled his head away and lifted his claws, showing her his palms. “What?”

Tori planted her fists on her hips. “Y’know, I had wondered back when you first introduced yourself as Officer Jintauro instead of Inspector Jintauro or Detective Jintauro, but you’re not really investigating a suspicious death, are you?” she asked. “You’re just investigating the accident to see who should end up paying off the commissioner’s relatives when the lawsuits fly!”

“I never said I was investigating his cause of death—”

She pointed an accusing finger. “No, but now you’re thinking that if you find an individual to blame, that you can save the company a big pile of credits—”

“No,” he said. “It’s not like that at all. If Thojy murdered the commissioner, then the company would still be liable. They’ll still end up paying off Troykintrassa’s family to settle out of court.”

“Except that you’ll be a hero for identifying a murderer,” she said, stamping her paw. Beneath her, the strand beeped. “And maybe you’ll get promoted from mopping up accident scenes to chasing actual criminals!”

Jintauro shrugged. “Well … there’s no certainty about what would happen,” he said, “but like you said, Thojy certainly committed at least one murder. He’s going to be executed no matter what, so it’s not like an innocent person would be taking the blame—”

“Officer Jintauro!” Tori got down on her knees and raised her paws in prayer. “Please, listen to me. If the company ever got wind of this, if they heard that you were even wondering if a geroo could have had a paw in this, they’ll kill every officer, crewman, and cub.” She sniffled and wiped away her tears. “Even if your hunch was later disproved, it wouldn’t matter, we’ll all be dead by then!”

“Well, I—”

“Please, listen to me,” said Tori. “You might not think much of us, or you might think that it doesn’t really matter if Thojy takes the blame for ten murders instead of nine, but there are nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine other geroo on board this ship!” She scooted forward on her knees to the edge of the strand. “Thojy would have no motive to hurt the commissioner, but if you suggest that he did, you’ll have killed us all!”

She craned her neck and stared up at him, trying to decipher his expression. “Please tell me you wouldn’t murder ten thousand people,” she begged in a whisper, “just for a chance to advance your career. That would make you a bigger monster than Thojy even is.”

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xlFgbc1NaFpn2a4DJvTN_wUR8JV335nW_nJAkEVN_ko/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?