A15 Homesick (Patreon)

Remixing an earlier scene for Executioner's Gambit and changing the PoV.

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Tori sat alone in the central market, poking at her strand and just generally … sulking. Her ears perked at Administrator Holly’s voice. “Hey there, Tori. Something wrong?”

“Oh, hi Holly,” she said, trying to put a smile on her ruined ears. “I’m pretty depressed.”

The skinny geroo frowned and pulled out a chair from across the table. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is the investigation going poorly?”

Tori shrugged. “It’s going okay, I guess. It’s just…”—she sighed in frustration—“everything else.”

“Homesick?” he asked with a concerned look on his ears.

She nodded. “Yeah, but worse than that.” She glanced at the text on her strand, and with a frustrated shove, sent the document scrolling all the way to the bottom, skipping quickly past pages and pages of text. She explained, “When a serial killer struck on my old ship, everyone wanted the killer found. Nobody here does. Everyone hates me for even trying to solve the crime.”

The brindle geroo pulled away suddenly, sitting up straight with eyes and ears open wide. After a moment, he found his voice, “I don’t hate you.”

“Well, then you’re one of the few,” grunted Tori. She flailed at all the shops and vendors surrounding the market. “I’ve had to order all my lunches delivered. The vendors won’t sell anything if they realize it’s for me.”

“Really?” he squeaked. “That’s awful. Could you transfer back?”

She sighed and rested her chin on the backs of her paws. “Not without getting surgery first,” she sighed, thinking about Dr. Amhela and his impossible requirements. “And I can’t get that without impressing the captain and the commissioner—somehow.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize.” He reached forward to touch her, but stopped just short. “Did that information I sent you help any?”

She looked up. “I forgot to thank you for that! I really appreciate your help. And yeah, I’ve been going through it,” said Tori. She flopped back in her seat once more. “I also managed to get a copy of the investigation files. So, lots for me to read these days.”

Holly grinned and raised a hopeful ear. “Still need help?”

“Absolutely… I’m just not sure what. I really wish I understood the killer’s motive.”

At that, the skinny geroo cocked an ear. “His motive isn’t obvious?”

“Not to me it isn’t,” said Tori. “I figure he’s either got a personal grievance against each of these victims, or he’s become a vigilante and thinks he’s dispensing justice that the legal system won’t … or can’t.”

“Oh.” He nodded as if he hadn’t thought much about it before. Then asked, “Does it matter which?”

“It might,” said Tori. “Could be two very different sets of suspects.”

She crushed her palms against her eyes and groaned, talking more to herself than anyone else, “How in the hells did this ship get so screwed up?”

Holly cocked his head in confusion. “How do you mean?”

Tori’s ruined ears fell to a frown, and she poked a finger into her palm repeated in frustration. “How is it that the crew has so much animosity for everyone in charge?” she asked. “So far, everyone I’ve spoken with has been able to name at least one of the victims and share a personal anecdote about something awful they’ve done.”

“Well, the victims…” Holly began before the words sputtered out. He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s unkind to speak ill of the dead.”

“Well, you’re the only one who seems to feel that way.” Tori crossed her arms. “After Subcommander Kimoa was murdered, his staff sounded like they were ready to throw a party.”

Holly frowned, his eyes falling to his lap a long while before he looked back up. “What are you saying? Back on your old ship, do people like their bosses?”

“Like?” she asked in surprise. “I’m not sure there’s anywhere in the galaxy where everyone likes being told what to do. Nobody enjoys being reprimanded when they fail, but no, back on my old ship, the crew didn’t universally hate their bosses so much that they’d like to see them murdered!”

“Oh,” said Holly. He smiled. “Sounds nice.”

“Sounds nice?” she yarped. “That’s normal! Whatever is going on here is most decidedly not normal.”

He shrugged, nonplussed. “I don’t know about that. It’s pretty normal around here.” Holly explained, “All the really truly awful people—people that won’t hesitate to treat those around them like crap—those are the people who succeed. They get all the promotions, they become everyone’s supervisor, and then they get to treat more people like crap.”

The tall geroo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Being awful means being successful, and that’s apparently how you get anywhere in life. Decent, ordinary folks like you and me? We’re the ones that end up taking their crap.” He raised his palms defensively. “Now, I’m not excusing what the killer has done. I’m not condoning murder. I’m just saying … I understand.”

Tori was so shocked that the words wouldn’t come. When they finally did, she sputtered, “You … understand?”

“Yeah, I do. I get the desire,” he said, unrattled. “Acting on it is absolutely wrong, but yeah, I think everyone can imagine wanting to kill someone who’s been cruel to them. Or perhaps, they’re upset with how unfair it is that being mean is consistently rewarded? Wouldn’t you feel that way?”

She didn’t know how to feel. She understood what Holly was saying, but refused to admit such desires were normal. She’d never wanted to kill anyone, but she’d been hurt—perhaps more than any other geroo alive. She might have wanted someone to die at some point, but that wasn’t the same as wanting to kill them.

“I dunno,” he sighed. “It is pretty frustrating, but I can’t imagine it driving someone to kill.”

The strand on Holly’s shoulder beeped. He pulled it from the holster and his ears lifted when he read the message.

“What’s that?” Tori asked with a grin. “Message from a pretty gal?”

“Ha! I wish,” he said. “No, my next task—I get to tell a Happy Couple they’ve won their first birth token.”

He stood, preparing to leave, but then paused. “You wanna come?” asked Holly. “Might cheer you up a bit.”

Tori had never wanted to be a parent, but she had lots of friends who did, lots of friends who’d already started families. Winning the first birth token was a magical moment for them—a moment when a couple often felt like they’d stopped “playing house” and actually started a family. “Yeah, that sounds fun.” She climbed slowly back to her paws. “Whose birth token did they win?”

“Oh, hrm,” said Holly, taking a moment to consult the strand he’d yet to put back in his shoulder holster, “just some guy on eighteen who’s having his Going Away in three days.”

Tori put her paw in his. “Okay, let’s go there first.”

He jumped back, yanking his paw away. He vigorously shook his head. “Uh, no Tori. I think that would be a really bad idea.”

“No, it’s not, Holly,” she said. She took his paw once more, reassuring him, “Trust me. This is the right way to do it.”

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-aC66-c1JtEUo2ZP3JgIKO3ldxdq-Pxdn4xeGNUYEDg/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?