Executioner's Gambit: Seeking Help (Patreon)

All of these scenes are subject to change, but some more than others. I may have rethink this completely when I write the next couple. But that's okay! The fun of being on my Patreon is that you get to see stuff that no one else will.

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Tori groaned and fumbled for her strand from the bedside table. Glancing at the screen, she accepted the call and growled, “Whatever you want, Chief, the answer is ‘No.’ I need some rest.”

“Eklii’s Bakery on Deck 16,” said Tipohee. “I need you down here.”

“No,” said Tori with a yawn. “I’ve barely slept for the last week and a half. Plus, I’m hiding from Officer Jintauroka. If it’s not on fire, I’m not getting out of this bed. And if it is on fire, I’d really rather you sent someone down here to put it out.”

“I’ve got an alien barricaded inside the bakery.”

Tori flopped her head back on the pillow and waited for several moments. “And?”

“And he’s asking for you by name!” said the chief of security, clearly losing his patience.

For a long while, Tori considered hanging up. She even considered setting the bed on fire, but instead she mustered, “Okay, I’m coming.”

The rusty red geroo dressed and hobbled toward the market at an even pace, through a thick ring of curious onlookers, a thinner ring of security officers, and to Chief Tipohee who stood beside a jumble of chairs piled into the shop’s entranceway.

He gestured toward the bakery with an upturned paw, but she just glared at him. “I’m not climbing over those.”

With a nod and a one-pawed “come here” gesture to the officers, they descended on the pile, quickly stacking chairs and pulling them away from the entrance. When the security officers had removed the last of the chairs, she walked slowly inside, her cane taping the metal deck with every other step.

Tori didn’t know what to expect from an alien. She’d met three so far and wasn’t generally enjoying the experience. But whatever it was, it couldn’t be krakun-sized, or it would never have gotten through the shop’s door. A distant corner of her mind told her to be frightened, but the rest of her brain shushed it and went back to sleep.

She spotted the creature backed into a corner of the bakery’s dining area—a puff of black and white fur with a comically long and skinny tail that it clung to like a security blanket. She guessed the alien was no bigger than a toddler but so much scrawnier, plus it huddled in a ball trying to appear smaller still.

Setting her cane down on one of the shop’s two tables, she waved at the thing, then hobbled behind the shop’s counter and grabbed a half-empty carafe of javea with one paw and two mugs with the other. Then, she returned to the dining area and took a seat.

The geroo poured a full mug for herself and a half-full mug for the empty seat opposite her. Then, she waited, sipping at the hot beverage and hoping the caffeine would revive her somewhat.

Eventually, the little alien emerged from where he cowered and slinked along the counter, positioning himself so the table and empty chair sat between them.

Ah! A ringel, thought Tori. She’d never seen a ringel in person before, not even a photo. If it weren’t for the Ykahi character in the Boots video, she’d have no idea what they even looked like. Ykahi, of course, had been animated with a cub’s plush toy, so was far pudgier and cuter than the alien before her, but it bore enough resemblance for her to recognize the creature’s species. At least it’s not something horrific and terrifying!

The ringel opened his muzzle and squeaked at her. He jabbered and gestured with his paws, pointing out at the security officers waiting beyond the doorway. She had no idea what he was saying, so she waited and patiently sipped her javea. What a peculiar creature! she thought. His tail is too thin to support any weight, and he stands on paws that are nearly as “grabby” as the pair he gestures with.

Eventually, the ringel must have figured out that Tori couldn’t understand, so he switched to speaking Krakun. It was very strange for her to hear the language spoken in such high-pitched squeaks, but at least she could understand what he was saying now. “Are you Tori?”

Despite learning Krakun as a cub, she’d never actually spoken the language. The only krakun who ever came on board understood the Geroo language, and the custom was to speak to the commissioner in Geroo. The krakun always spoke their own language but expected all slaves to be educated enough to understand what they said.

“Yes, I am,” she managed in Krakun with some effort and hesitation. There seemed little point in speaking Geroo. Clearly, he didn’t know that.

“I am Sutzir,” he said.

Tori nodded with sudden recognition. “You’re Daskatoma’s best friend! What are you doing aboard the Sailor’s Gambit I?”

“Dask needs your help,” he explained. “He’s convinced himself that he’s responsible for his uncle’s death. I’ve been trying to get through to him, but he won’t listen.”

“Wait, what?” she asked.

“Troykintrassa was killed in a shuttle crash,” said Sutzir, “and Daskatoma felt like it was his job to maintain the shuttle. So, it was his fault.”

Tori squeezed her eyes closed for a long moment. When she finally opened them once more, she said, “No, that’s ridiculous. Dask was doing a favor for his uncle. And I understand that he was hoping he’d be able to get a job with the company someday by helping out, but the job was still Troykintrassa’s job. The responsibility was his too.”

She drew a deep breath and let it slowly out. Speaking in Krakun was exhausting! “It’s sad and tragic if it turns out that was why the shuttle crashed, but Dask isn’t to blame.”

“That is what I’ve been trying to explain to him!” Sutzir said, flailing his arms. He climbed up on the chair opposite Tori and stood on the seat so he was roughly her height. Picking up the mug, he gave the brew a sniff and then quickly pulled it away from his face, baring his teeth as if angry. “Disgusting!”

“I can’t taste it,” she sighed. When he looked at her, she added, “Sulfur poisoning.”

He nodded, and Tori asked, “Is Daskatoma here?”

“No,” said Sutzir. “He landed here, but another krakun yelled at him and made him leave. I stayed to try and find you. And then the shouting and yelling and running in here.”

Tori frowned. “Sorry about that. I’m sure you surprised a lot of people. We’ve never had a ringel aboard the ship. They probably thought it was an invasion or something.”

Sutzir sipped at the javea. He stuck out his tongue and closed his eyes like he was going to vomit, then took a second sip. Tori watched in silence while the ringel dry heaved for a second time.

“And so, he came to me because…?”

“Because you’re an investigator.” Sutzir cradled the mug in his tiny paws.

She shrugged. “So, I can look at the crash site and tell him it wasn’t his fault? I don’t know anything about vehicle crashes! I’m a murder investigator. And I don’t need to see the crash site to know it wasn’t his fault.”

“Yes, thank you! Will you tell him that?”

“Of course,” said Tori, standing from her seat. Sutzir stepped up on the table and tried to put his arms around the geroo, but she frantically pushed his paws away. “No! No! No!”

The ringel looked confused. “Geroo do not hug?”

“Of course, we hug,” said Tori, relaxing once he stopped trying to touch her, “but sulfur poisoning, remember? It hurts so much to be touched.”

“It hurts to be touched?” Tori nodded, and the little male climbed down from the table to follow her. “How do you have sex?”

She stared at him in shock, but he just waited for her explanation. “I… I don’t,” she said at last. “I can’t.”

Sutzir’s jaw hung open, but Tori didn’t want to discuss this with a stranger—with anyone, really—so she left him in the bakery, let him run to catch up with her.

Security cleared the curious away, and Tori walked in silence, leading the alien toward the bridge.

“So, it hurts to be touched, and Daskatoma will not let you have surgery to fix this?” he asked once they were alone again. He sounded deeply worried.

Tori tried to respond but then decided that she’d rather not. With her free paw, she wiped away a couple tears. “Can we talk about something else?” she whispered.

“Okay,” he said just as quietly.

Tori sighed, taking another moment before she’d trust her voice, “So, you and Dask have been friends a long time?”

“Almost all my life,” he said proudly. “Not all his life, obviously. But Daskatoma is very good at making friends. He always has some best friend among our crew. Perhaps, it will be a grandkit of mine when I’m gone. Who knows?”

“And Thojy?” she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. “He’s been Dask’s friend a long time too?”

“Who told you they were friends?” asked Sutzir.

“You did. Right now,” she said with a grin. His eyes opened wide. “But it’s okay. I figured it out a couple days ago.”

“Dask keeps friends on several ships,” the ringel explained. “I know he cares about each very deeply, but it’s not the same. He knows that he can tell me anything.”

She smiled. “He trusts you to keep all his secrets?”

“No, I tell everyone everything, of course,” said Sutzir, “but this is the first time any of us have ever left the apartment, so his secrets are safe.”

“I see,” said Tori, “but he has to be more cautious with his geroo friends.”

“That too, but also his geroo friendships are less robust, I think.” Sutzir sighed a little squeak. “Dask’s friends usually have money troubles. He helps them out, and so they feel friendly toward him.”

“So, he buys their friendship.”

“In a way, I suppose.”

“That happened to me once,” Tori admitted. “My friend Aziz gave me a video I always wanted to try and become my friend. It worked, but later, I felt very angry toward him for doing it. We nearly stopped being friends because of it—well… that and other things.”

“I’m glad you stayed friends with him.” His ears smiled wide up at her.

“So, he doesn’t bribe you to be his friend, Sutzir?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I’m sorry—” Tori began to say, but he waved away her concerns.

“There is no money on a cleaning crew. Nothing to buy,” said Sutzir. “We clean his apartment, and he provides us what we need.”

“Oh.”

“But his geroo friends have very different lives. Sometimes Dask helps them with their problems, and sometimes they help Dask with his,” explained Sutzir. “They tell him how things are going on the ship—things their captains might not want Dask to know.”

“They spy for him.”

“Sort of, yeah.” Sutzir rubbed his chin. “For example, his geroo friends might tell Dask if the crew was angry about a new policy. That’s something the captain might not wish to admit, but it’s not exactly a secret you should need a spy to reveal.”

Tori stopped walking and turned toward the little creature. “They kill for him too.”

Sutzir frowned. “That is very new and something Dask and I have argued a lot about in the last couple months.”

“Sutzir, you understand that he is murdering geroo, right?”

“Of course, I understand!” yelled the little ringel. “That’s why we argue so much. He says his job requires it sometimes. I beg him not to, and he asks what I think he should do instead, but for anything I suggest, he has a reason why he can’t or why it wouldn’t help.”

Tori frowned. “That sounds very frustrating.”

Sutzir nodded and wiped at his eyes. “He hates killing geroo, and that’s why he puts it off even when he knows he’s supposed to. He thinks the list of problem geroo grew so long because he hasn’t been doing it.”

Tori frowned. “Does he really think that? That ‘badness’ is spreading and now nine people have to be murdered?”

Sutzir didn’t reply, but the pair had reached the bridge. “Hey, everyone,” said Tori after pushing open the door, “this is Sutzir, Daskatoma’s best friend.”

Many wide eyes turned their way and a few of the bridge crew waved, but no one spoke.

“Is it possible for us to radio a message to Commissioner Daskatoma?” she asked.

One of the lieutenants spoke up, “That shouldn’t be necessary. His shuttle is just docking now.”

“Oh, good!” said Tori with relief evident on her ruined ears. “So, Officer Jintauroka has already left?”

“Negative. Officer Jintauroka is still meeting with Captain Gutassi,” he explained.

Tori’s ears fell once more. “So, how is the commissioner docking?”

“Deck 25,” said the lieutenant.

“There’s a shuttle bay on Deck 25?”

“Negative, but there is an emergency escape hatch and airlock on twenty-five. It’s not nearly as large as the other krakun-sized spaces, but in theory, it should be large enough for a krakun.” He shrugged. “We keep it serviced regularly, but I don’t think any krakun has ever used it.”

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1dJCWgjO0y0aMAPEBext1TtwbGpzwPqdN-d0vo8seVvI/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?