Halo Fanon

This episode, Mylu and Vaz Defile Communism, was written by Sonasaurus. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.


CY-46 // 43U:22CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1913 HOURS // JULY 22, 2554 」
Location: ULYANOV BANQUET HALL, KROPOTKIN CITY CULTURAL DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

A lively gala is in full swing within the modestly decorated Ulyanov Banquet Hall. The bold strokes of red and black on the walls stand out in stark contrast to its pearly white floor tiles. Long gold banners hang down from the ceiling, sparkling from the light of the small chandeliers affixed between them.

Amidst the humans drinking and chatting quietly at their tables, eight or nine heads turn as Mylu ‘Zulmar weaves between the crowd with Vaz ‘Suman and Plokk Laar. The three of them are garbed in human-style tuxedos, and they walk with a noticeable stiffness despite their attire tailored to fit their respective profiles. Plokk tugs at his bowtie, accidentally fraying it a little.

Plokk: (grumbles) “Why do humans wear these? It’s pressing into my windpipe and it doesn’t even protect my neck.”

Vaz: “It’s not so bad, you can loosen it if you pull the knot from both sides. These pants, however...” (flexes knees uncomfortably) “Sangheili are not meant to wear pants. These leg sleeves will tear at the joints if I walk any faster than this.”

Mylu says nothing and continues to follow Tobias Lensky, also clad in a tuxedo with his thinning black hair neatly slicked back. The four of them are walking toward the front of the stage, where the current guest speaker, James Vannak, is finishing his lecture.

Vannak: “So in conclusion, we currently possess only a limited – and dare I say biased – understanding of Covenant species on a sociological level, but I speculate that they will find themselves in a unique position in the coming years. After all, their entire base-superstructure has been eliminated! Will they regress or will we find ourselves soon sitting with ‘alien’ communists? Whatever the outcome, it will be fascinating to observe in the wake of their severance of state and religion. Thank you.”

The conference hall breaks out into applause as Vannak withdraws his notes from the holoreader before him. He graciously steps aside as a grey-haired woman, Dr. Barbara Knight, strides onto the stage and steps up to the podium.

Dr. Knight: “And thank you, Professor Vannak. We may be living in strange and curious times, the likes of which none of us could have predicted, but if there’s anything I’ve come to understand about Kropotkin this past year, it’s that we don’t shirk from the strange or the curious. And while these words can be used to describe our visitors in attendance tonight, I hope you will see them as more than that, for they have brought us a tremendous gift which I am very excited to share with you all tonight...”

As Dr. Knight continues her speech, white flashes of light go off around Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk as photographers eagerly snap pictures of them. Lensky smoothly steps aside while Mylu averts his gaze toward the floor, and Vaz glances his way with concern and a hint of surprise. One of the humans hurries forward with a pen and a notepad, adjusting his in-ear translator as he waves the photographers back.

Bouvier: “Excuse me, gentlemen. Liêm Bouvier, Kropotkin Galactic News. Might I have a minute of your time?”

Mylu: (murmurs) “Sure.”

Mylu does not glance up at Bouvier. Vaz’s hand drifts down toward his hip, fingers twitching against fabric where his Energy Sword is usually fastened.

Bouvier: “Excellent, let’s get right to it. (consults notes) Comparatively speaking, what changes have you noticed in Sangheili society, both before and after the war? Am I pronouncing that right – Sang-hee-lee?”

Mylu: (disinterested) “‘Sang-hay-lee’. It’s different from the name of our homeworld, which is pronounced ‘Sang-hee-lee-ose’.”

Bouvier: (scribbles notes) “Sangheili. Sanghelios. Thank you for clearing that up.”

Mylu: “As for your first question, I don’t know what it was like before the war. I never left my city until recently, and we were well-insulated from external conflict, even that of our rival states’.”

Mylu’s voice becomes distant and moody. He stops speaking again as Bouvier waits expectantly.

Plokk: “It became a lot more lucrative, that’s for sure. No more war tariffs, not that I paid taxes before the Covenant collapsed. But being able to trade capital with you humans is nice.”

Vaz: (warily) “Plokk, hold your tongue. This is not the place to speak of such things.”

Bouvier: (breezily) “Don’t worry, our network’s job is to report the goings-on in the galaxy, not pass judgement on it. So what about you? Did you serve the Covenant during the war?”

Vaz: “I am not of sufficient age, no. Even if I were, my duties would have compelled me to remain at my station.”

Bouvier: “And what station is that?”

Vaz glances at Mylu again, who is still staring despondently at the floor.

Vaz: “To protect my charge at any cost. His family’s status and affluence has a tendency to attract enemies.”

Bouvier: “Ah, so you come from wealth. People are fickle when it comes to money, aren’t they?”

Vaz: “Among other things, yes. But what most of them crave is power.”

Bouvier: “Very true. Alright, gentlemen, I’ve taken up enough of your time. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Bouvier puts his pen and pad away before grasping Plokk by the hand and shakes it, then does the same with an unreactive Mylu. When Vaz extends his hand as well, Bouvier clasps it with both of his own, prompting Vaz to stare at him quizzically. Bouvier gives him a wink and a smile before hurrying back to his table.

Vaz notices Lensky watching the exchange, not far from where Dr. Knight is continuing her speech. Lensky winks at Vaz, emphatically adjusting the handkerchief in his shirt pocket. Vaz does the same, surreptitiously tucking the object in his palm behind his own handkerchief and masking the gesture by pretending to straighten his bowtie.

Vaz: (quietly) “Master Mylu, we can leave if you don’t want to be here. You need only say the word.”

Mylu finally meets Vaz’s gaze. His demeanour is melancholy and contains none of his usual characteristic spunk.

Mylu: (quietly) “Vaz, I–”

A photographer steps forward and snaps a picture, a bright flash right in their faces. Vaz reflexively shields his eyes, while Mylu suddenly whirls about and backhands the photographer across the face. The human falls onto a nearby table, sending it toppling over with a crash as his camera shatters against the floor.

Vaz immediately grabs Mylu by the shoulders, restraining him as silence falls over the banquet hall. Dr. Knight gapes in bewilderment from behind the podium while the surrounding attendees rush to help the photographer, who is clutching his face. In the blink of an eye, Elisey Morozov and his security guards surround Mylu and Vaz, various models of M6 handguns clasped in their hands.

Morozov: “On your knees! Hands on your heads, both of you!”

Vaz slowly releases Mylu as they lower themselves into a kneeling position. Metal handcuffs are snapped around their wrists before they are brusquely hauled to their feet.

Dr. Knight: “That’s not necessary, Sergeant. Let’s just take a deep breath and–”

Morozov: “Move it, now!”

Mylu and Vaz are marched toward the exit by Morozov and his guards, hands fastened behind their backs with gun barrels pressed between their shoulders. Vaz looks away from Dr. Knight’s stricken expression to see Lensky furtively leading Plokk out of the banquet hall through the back door.

Vaz’s gaze drifts to the injured photographer, whose jaw has been visibly dislocated. Finally, he notices that Mylu has returned to his previous state of sullen indifference.

Vaz: (murmurs) “Fied and Joori. What has gotten into you, Master Mylu?”

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 19U:5CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1903 HOURS // JULY 21, 2554 // 24 HOURS AGO
Location: ABOARD MODIFIED EGRET-CLASS SPACELINER BLACK KYŌGEN, 「 514 KM 」ABOVE KROPOTKIN CITY SPACEPORT DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk are standing around a holotable with Lensky, where Astor’s avatar is visible next to an image of the planet Kropotkin. The green of its main landmass is interceded by vast stretches of dusty brown in the northern hemisphere, with a visible splotch of urban grey at its centre.

Astor: “...so the planet was renamed Kropotkin after the Napoleon Corporation was fully expunged by the revolution. Apologies for the lack of visual reference, there’s not a lot to draw upon from this colony’s public database. Any questions?”

Vaz + Plokk: “Yes.”

Mylu remains silent. Astor turns his beady stare upon Plokk, whose plumage ruffles with faint discomfort.

Plokk: “The humans here don’t use money at all?”

Astor irritably folds his wings against his translucent body.

Astor: “No, Plokk Laar, I explained that quite thoroughly when you asked me to define ‘communism’ earlier. What was the last thing you remember me saying?”

Plokk: (scratches head) “Something about marks and angles?”

Astor: (shortly) “Recalibrate your translator, please. (TO VAZ) What is your question, Vaz ‘Suman?”

Vaz: “If this colony is made up entirely of humans, won’t they respond unfavourably to our presence on their planet?”

Astor: “A valid concern. You’re right, most human colonies would be trepidatious, but as you have likely deduced from my briefing, Kropotkin was fortuitous enough to remain undiscovered during the Human-Covenant War. They are aware of your species, of course, but without the impending threat of an extraterrestrial invasion, my analysis indicates that their suspicion will likely fall within reasonable, non-violent parameters.”

Lensky: (placidly) “Not to worry, I sent word to Dr. Knight and her colleagues in advance. The executive council has already cleared us to set foot in their capital. We wouldn’t be descending right now if our ship hadn’t received their express permission to land.”

Plokk: “‘Our’ ship?”

Lensky: (grins) “Our ship. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

Plokk: (shifts uncomfortably) “I can already tell I’m going to hate this place.”

Astor: (TO MYLU) “You did not have any inquiries during the briefing, Mylu ‘Zulmar. And you have become increasingly reticent in the seventeen days since we left Venezia. Is this unusual for you?”

Mylu: (shortly) “I’m fine. Let’s get this done and leave.”

Mylu turns and walks out of the room without another word. Vaz and Plokk exchange mystified looks.

Vaz: “Something is amiss with Master Mylu, but I can’t place what. He usually seeks me out when he is troubled.”

Plokk: “We’re in a strange place, about to mingle with some strange humans, and I’m not even sure what we’re here for.”

Lensky: (breezily) “Opportunity, Plokk. You need only concern yourself with getting paid, even if it’s not customary for the locals. And take care not to steal from them. Contrary to popular belief, communists aren’t wholly divorced from the concept of ownership.”

Pilot: (PA) “Mr. Lensky, we’re getting a call from the surface. Councillor Bhutto would like a word with you before we finalize our landing.”

Lensky dips his head politely at Vaz and Plokk.

Lensky: “Please wait for me in the docking bay. Remember to leave your weapons aboard the ship.”

Plokk’s gaze follows Lensky as he strides out of the room, only returning to Vaz once the door slides shut behind him.

Plokk: “That human makes me nervous. I haven’t let my guard down once since we took this job.”

Vaz: “Neither have I. Do you think he means to betray us?”

Plokk: “If he does, we might not see it coming. Mylu could, maybe, but the construct’s right. He’s been distracted lately.”

Vaz: (exhales) “I must redouble my efforts to determine why. Remain vigilant a little longer, Plokk.”

◇◇◇


The Black Kyōgen touches down inside Kropotkin City’s spaceport, a massive industrial hangar bay encompassed by an endless stretch of desert, illuminated beneath a pair of gleaming moons. As the starboard hatch slides back, Mylu closes his eyes and inhales with a hint of reprieve, the tension easing from his shoulders just a little.

Mylu: (murmurs) “It almost reminds me of home.”

Plokk: “Don’t get too comfortable, kid. The humans are coming.”

A dozen guards march up the ramp, clad in unmarked black uniforms and brandishing handheld scanners and M7 SMGs. Two of them scan Plokk and Lensky while the rest begin sweeping the interior of the Black Kyōgen. When a pair of guards check Mylu and Vaz, their scanners beep in rapid succession.

Guard 1: “Both of you are armed with–”

Mylu: (flatly) “Five weapons and three decryption tools, I know. We’ll remove our combat harnesses.”

Mylu taps the release mechanism on his helmet and takes it off, setting it on a nearby table while Vaz watches in bemusement. He hastens to follow suit as Mylu begins removing his shoulder pads. Lensky waits patiently while Plokk warily eyes the guards’ weapons.

Once Mylu and Vaz finish stowing their armour, the guards run a second scan over their undersuits while the rest of the security detail regroups.

Guard 2: “Nothing out of place, Sergeant Morozov. The rest of the crew have elected to remain on board.”

Morozov nods and produces a quartet of small red-black booklets. He hands them to Lensky.

Morozov: “Your visitor visas, Mr. Lensky. You and the aliens will follow my team. Do not wander or you will be considered a threat and dealt with accordingly.”

Lensky: “Of course, Sergeant.”

Lensky passes out the visas to Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk. Morozov and his guards escort them off the ship and into the hangar.

The spaceport is filled with hundreds of humans in simple grey jumpsuits, busily tending to the eclectic starships around them. Despite the haphazard appearance of the open hangar, they carry out their work with practiced order and discipline.

The security team leads Mylu, Vaz, Plokk, and Lensky to the opposite end of the hangar bay, where Morozov gestures for them to step through a row of metal frames. The nozzles on the frames spray each of them in turn with a fine mist, drying within moments as they walk through. Plokk crinkles his plumage in surprise, recoiling a little as he wipes at his eyes and beak.

Morozov: “It’s not harmful. It just kills any offworld diseases you may have brought with you.”

Plokk: (retches) “It tastes harmful. We didn’t have to do this on Sqala.”

Morozov: “The three of you are the first nonhumans to set foot on this planet, Plokk Laar. Our people haven’t developed the same immunities as the humans you met on Venezia.”

They step onto a wide metal platform, where Morozov taps the control panel to send them down. An underground section opens up before them, worn with age like the hangar above and made up of little else than welded metal sheets.

The doors at the other end slide open to reveal a trio of old sedans. Standing next to the vehicle in the middle is an elderly woman wearing a plain grey coat – Dr. Barbara Knight. She adjusts her digi-glasses as they approach and briskly steps forward to shake Lensky’s hand.

Lensky: (warmly) “Dr. Knight. A pleasure to meet in person at last.”

Dr. Knight: “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Lensky. I trust your specimens have survived the journey intact?”

Plokk: (TO VAZ, concerned whisper) “She’s not talking about us, is she?”

Lensky: “They certainly have, doctor. My crew is offloading them as we speak.”

Vaz: (TO PLOKK, whispering) “No, but you could still volunteer.”

Lensky: “And these are the representatives I brought. May I introduce you to Mylu ‘Zulmar, Vaz ‘Suman, and Plokk Laar?”

Dr. Knight’s eyes light up with the smile that breaks out on her face. She politely extends her hand to them and shakes each of their hands as well.

Dr. Knight: “Thank you for coming. I look forward to having some enlightening conversations with you all, but more on that later. (opens car door) Please, after you.”

Mylu and Vaz climb into the back of the sedan, ducking their heads a little within the human-sized space. Plokk follows suit, the feathers atop his head brushing against the ceiling as he squeezes in next to Vaz. Lensky and Dr. Knight take the rear-facing seats across from them, closing the door as Morozov and his team file into the other two cars.

As the convoy pulls away from the spaceport, Vaz glances at Mylu, who stares dully into the cityscape without a hint of his usual curiosity. He notices Dr. Knight studying him and Mylu closely, and she makes a sheepish face.

Dr. Knight: “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re smaller than any Sangheili I’ve seen. Am I correct in presuming you’re adolescents?”

Vaz: “Yes. (beat) Have you seen many Sangheili during the war?”

The wrinkles around Dr. Knight’s eyes become more pronounced as sadness enters her expression.

Dr. Knight: (distantly) “I have. But never by choice.”

Mylu glances toward Dr. Knight, giving her his attention for the first time.

Mylu: (murmurs) “You’re fluent in Sangheili.”

Dr. Knight taps her right ear, which is devoid of an earpiece translator.

Dr. Knight: “I am. The last twenty-nine years have given me ample opportunity to practice.”

The two of them observe one another in prolonged silence. The moment comes to an end as their convoy turns a corner, revealing a huge city square upon which thousands of uniformed humans are gathered. A solitary figure stands before the crowd, his head barely visible above theirs from behind the central podium. Unlike the plain attire of Morozov and his guards, the black of the humans’ uniforms are lined with vivid stripes of red around their shoulders and the cuffs of their sleeves.

Plokk: (nervously) “Who are they?”

Dr. Knight: “The Revolutionary Internal Security Council, or RISC. On their way to bring the communist revolution to the stars.”

Vaz: “Do you believe in their cause, doctor?”

Dr. Knight: “I’m not sure I believe in any cause borne from the human heart, Vaz ‘Suman. But Kropotkin is a refuge from the horrors of the past. In spite of the many hardships that challenge its people every day, I’ve found that kindness is never in short supply here.”

Lensky is peering at the figure in front of the podium with mild fascination.

Lensky: “I never forget a face, but I can’t place where I’ve seen that man before.”

Dr. Knight: “Then you must have read your fair share of 20th century history. That’s Revolutionary Captain Petr Castro, descendant of the famous communist leader Fidel Castro.”

Lensky: “Ah, I see the resemblance now. How uncanny.”

Castro: “Comrades! Friends! Revolutionaries! We Kropotkiners may have won our freedom from the imperialists, but fear not! We have not forgotten, nor will we shirk, from our obligation to the oppressed peoples still toiling under the violence of galactic colonialism! We know that our freedom without the freedom of all, is vile opportunism! The blood of the Kropotkin proletariat will soak and enrich all worlds desperate for freedom! My friends! My brave revolutionary comrades! Where you go, we go! The working class of Kropotkin stands behind you! Your right is our fight! Today, revolution – tomorrow, liberation! Long live the revolution!”

As the convoy makes its way further into Kropotkin City, the dark metal buildings gradually give way to smaller structures made of white-grey alabaster. Their gloomy architecture is chipped and cracked upon nearly every surface, devoid of colour save for the bright red posters adhered to them. Various human faces decorate the illustrations, captioned with faded and unrecognizable text.

Mylu watches the locals filing down the street, their attire every bit as unglamorous as the buildings they are walking past. Some of their clothes are torn and their faces smudged with soot, but their movements are spry and they hold themselves with straight-backed pride.

Mylu: (quietly) “This is what equality looks like?”

Dr. Knight: “It’s what honour looks like. We climb together out of hardship or we don’t climb at all.”

Mylu: (quietly) “We have a very different idea of honour where I come from.”

Dr. Knight: (sagely) “Yes. I imagine you do.”

Plokk: (reviled) “I thought I was finally starting to understand humans. There’s so much wealth circulating the galaxy while you toil and glorify poverty.”

Dr. Knight: “Nothing of true value can be bought, Plokk Laar. Kropotkin will rise above this through solidarity.”

Plokk: (mutters) “That’s a lot of pretty words for a scientist, but can you prove it?”

A spark appears in Dr. Knight’s eyes from behind the glint of her digi-glasses.

Dr. Knight: “I certainly can, and the specimens Mr. Lensky brought us will be pivotal to that.”

Vaz shoots Lensky a guarded look.

Vaz: “And what was your asking price for such generosity?”

Lensky: “No price other than an audience with Celine Bhutto, one of Dr. Knight’s trusted colleagues. She is hosting a gala tomorrow night to which she has graciously invited us, and there Dr. Knight will unveil your donation to the guests in attendance.”

Mylu: “I thought it was your donation.”

Lensky: “Well, it’d look suspicious if I had illicitly obtained colo genomes in my possession. But you three, on the other hand...”

Silence falls over the interior of the vehicle.

Vaz: (whispers, mortified) “What have you done?”

Lensky: (wryly) “I stole something from a thief.”

Dr. Knight: “Mr. Lensky obtained those samples from the Office of Naval Intelligence at my request, and believe me when I say their intentions were quite nefarious. My plan, however, is to develop and breed a genetically modified variant of the colo that can survive on Kropotkin, then carefully introduce them into the ecosystem.”

Mylu: “You mean to put an end to famine. For everyone on the planet.”

Dr. Knight: “It’ll take a lifetime or two, but yes, I mean to do precisely that.”

Vaz: (TO LENSKY) “And what about you? Why does any of this matter to you?”

Lensky smiles secretively.

Lensky: “It’s an exciting time to be making new friends in the galaxy, don’t you think?”

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 45U:12CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 2107 HOURS // JULY 22, 2554 // PRESENT DAY
Location: SECURITY PAVILION 9, KROPOTKIN CITY CULTURAL DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Mylu sits in a holding cell with concrete walls, hands cuffed to the table and hooves chained to the floor. His tuxedo is lightly torn around the wrists and knees but he bears no sign of visible injury.

Also standing in the room are three RISC agents, one across the table and two by the door. The agent directly in front of Mylu stares coldly down at him as he speaks.

RISC agent: “It’s a simple line of logic, Mylu ‘Zulmar. My fellow agents have Vaz ‘Suman in the other room, and should he still refuse to talk, I’ll have to do something unpleasant to you in order to coerce him. You’ll break before he does, we both know that. So it would be in your best interest to talk without forcing my hand.”

Mylu: (quietly) “Best interest? I thought you valued the collective good.”

RISC agent: “I don’t expect an offworlder like you to share those values. Nor am I interested in persuading you – all you have to do is tell me what you and Lensky are planning on Kropotkin.”

Mylu looks up at the agent, defiance entering his expression.

Mylu: “I’m confused, agent – Dr. Knight told me your goal was to bring revolution to the stars. (looks around) No stars, no revolution, and all you brought is your ego. Are you sure this is your job?”

The door to the holding cell opens, and in strides Dr. Knight with a black-haired woman in an RISC uniform. Unlike the agents, however, she wears a lapel with a red-black insignia over her left breast inscribed with the word “LIAISON”.

Dr. Knight: “Uncuff him, he’s coming with me.”

The agent rounds on Dr. Knight, who locks gazes with him.

RISC agent: “You have no authority to be in this room, doctor.”

RISC liaison: “But I do, and I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t overstepped your authority, agent. The city council has claimed jurisdiction over what is to be done about Mylu ‘Zulmar, so I suggest you make yourselves scarce before you all end up in front of a tribunal.”

The agent holds his glare with Dr. Knight, who returns the glare unblinkingly. He wordlessly motions to the other agents standing in the room. One of them unlocks the cuffs over Mylu’s wrists while the other opens the locks around his ankles. The three agents file out of the room as Dr. Knight takes Mylu by one arm and helps him stand. She shoots the liaison a dirty look as the two of them walk past her.

Dr. Knight: “I’d keep your dogs on a tighter leash, Commodore Zheng, or someone will find a better use for them.”

The liaison, Qiulin Zheng, does not betray the slightest hint of emotion at the rebuke.

Zheng: (stiffly) “Stick to your area of expertise, doctor. Leave the threats to the professionals.”

Dr. Knight briskly escorts Mylu into the hallway, where Vaz is also being led out of his holding cell by a pair of RISC agents. He immediately rushes forward upon catching sight of them.

Vaz: “Master Mylu! Did they hurt you?”

Mylu: “No.”

Dr. Knight: “He’s fine, but this isn’t the place to talk. Stay close to me, both of you.”

Mylu and Vaz follow Dr. Knight through the reception area, vacant except for a single desk clerk who glances their way as the doors slide open. Outside the security pavilion, a lone sedan is waiting for them by the side of the street, identical to the ones at the spaceport.

Dr. Knight wordlessly opens the door. She ushers Mylu and Vaz into the back of the vehicle before stepping in herself, taking a seat beside a curly-haired woman around the same age as her. The other woman’s austere gaze does not leave Mylu and Vaz as Dr. Knight closes the car door. The sedan begins moving.

Dr. Knight: “Mylu, Vaz, this is Celine Bhutto, one of the municipal councillors in Kropotkin City.”

Bhutto: “We didn’t get a chance to speak in person, but I did see you both at my gala earlier. Quite the stir you caused.”

Mylu: “I apologize, madam, it was–”

Bhutto holds up a hand to stop him, now eyeing the rips and scuffs on their tuxedos.

Bhutto: “I see those RISC cretins ruined our tailor’s hard work. I hope their conduct hasn’t tarnished your opinion of our commune.”

Vaz: “The RISC appears to have gone astray from their intended purpose.”

Mylu: “I was thinking the same thing.”

Bhutto: “So we do see the same problem, as I hoped. A problem you can help me rectify.”

Vaz: (shifts uncomfortably) “You would have to ask Mr. Lensky, madam. We only came here at his behest.”

Bhutto: “Tobias Lensky is waiting for us at my estate, along with Plokk Laar. Rest assured, they will be brought up to speed.”

Mylu: (abruptly) “Why is the RISC a problem for you, Councillor Bhutto?”

Bhutto: (grimaces) “I won’t bore you with the details, but the simple answer is that our people should not be watched by a secret police. I harbour no personal enemies within the RISC, and as such I don’t intend any harm upon its agents. But they have already demonstrated a lack of restraint that I can only define as excessively threatening; if they could be needled into doing so again with a little nudge from your friends, then I could lobby for having them disbanded; see that their agents are placed into less distasteful – more transparent – roles.”

Mylu contemplates this, gazing out the window into the evening city streets.

Vaz: “If I may, Councillor, you seem very comfortable in trusting us. Do you have no reservations about our people for what they did to yours?”

The slight hint of a bittersweet smile twitches on Bhutto’s mouth.

Bhutto: “My people. Some may call me callous, but the only humans I truly consider my people are the ones who toiled under capitalist slavery for twenty-eight years – the ones who reclaimed their freedom through revolution. (beat) It might have been a different story had the Covenant found us during the war, but fortunately we’ll never have to entertain that notion. As far as I’m concerned, in culling our numbers and giving the UEG the humbling they so righteously deserved, your kind inadvertently tipped the scales in our commune’s favour.”

Dr. Knight: (frowns) “Celine...”

Bhutto: (huffs) “I know how you feel about it, Barbara, but your conscience doesn’t need any more put upon it. Save your sympathy, you’d still be working for that sociopath Magnusson if she had her way. People like her would’ve happily done what the Covenant did – or worse – had the roles been reversed.”

Dr. Knight’s gaze falls and she says nothing. The sedan jolts slightly as it pulls off the road and up toward a modest-sized house at the end of the street, its makeup a combination of stone and alabaster like the neighbouring estates.

Once the vehicle comes to a halt, Bhutto opens the door and steps out. Mylu and Vaz exit the sedan with Dr. Knight bringing up the rear, and they follow Bhutto who unlocks the keypad on her front door. Once it slides open, she leads everyone inside.

The interior is simple and practical, mostly furnished by cabinets and drawers topped with the occasional flower-filled urn. Directly across the hallway from the entrance is a living room, where Plokk and Lensky are sitting on an old couch next to a coffee table, being attended to by a human holding a pack of biscuits. Hanging on the wall over their heads is a greyscale portrait of a bearded man with simple glasses, its frame etched with human text: PYOTR ALEXEYEVICH KROPOTKIN (1842–1921).

Bhutto: (warmly) “Thank you for looking after our guests, Andrei.”

Andrei: “I can put on more tea if you'd like, Councillor.”

Bhutto: “No, I’ll take it from here. You should get back to the missus.”

Bhutto hands Andrei a pair of paper slips, which he accepts with a nod of thanks. As he gets his coat and walks out the door, Plokk tilts his head in confusion.

Plokk: “A butler? I thought you people didn’t use currency.”

Bhutto: “Andrei’s a friend, not a butler, and we don’t use currency. They’re labour vouchers for nonessential personal indulgences. We are still individuals, after all.”

Plokk: (mutters) “If you say so.”

Bhutto gestures for Mylu and Vaz to sit and strides into the adjacent kitchen tucked into one corner; she soon returns with a teapot and more teacups. She pours tea for her guests before filling her own teacup, then finally sits down next to Dr. Knight.

Bhutto: “Quite the colourful gathering you have, Mr. Lensky. For someone of such cryptic origins, I’d have thought you’d favour subtlety as your approach. Instead, your arrival couldn’t have been more puzzling had you shown up with an invading army.”

Lensky: (smiles congenially) “Well, I knew it’d take a lot to impress you, Councillor.”

Bhutto: “You wanted to see me that badly, huh? Why me?”

Lensky: “I consider you trustworthy, given our shared disdain for pests such as the RISC. And frankly, a municipal council position is beneath a woman of your calibre.”

Bhutto: “Cut the flattery, swindler. Answer me plainly, what is it you want?”

Lensky: (smiling unabashedly) “Vaz?”

Lensky pats the handkerchief over his shirt pocket, his tuxedo still perfectly untarnished. Vaz looks down at his own handkerchief and pulls it out, bringing with it a tiny slip of paper. He unfolds the slip to find it scrawled in the Sangheili language.

Mylu: “What’s that?”

Vaz: “The journalist at the gala gave it to me when he shook my hand.”

Mylu: (thinks) “Liêm Bouvier. That was his name.”

Dr. Knight: “Bouvier? He’s no journalist, and he definitely wasn’t on the guest list.”

Bhutto: (scowls) “The city council suspects Liêm Bouvier is siphoning our planet’s resources to offworld capitalists. Two of the worst crimes you could commit on Kropotkin, but without proof, we can’t act. (TO LENSKY) What’s your business with him?”

Lensky: “I don’t have any, and neither will you. What you do have is bait for the RISC, as you wanted.”

Bhutto: (hisses) “I didn’t ask you to come to my colony and meddle in my affairs.”

Lensky: “They’re my affairs as well, Councillor, because I want Bouvier dealt with as much as you do. You need only play your moves right and you could hamstring the RISC as well.”

Bhutto closes her eyes, knitting her brow as she mulls his words over. Dr. Knight looks incredulously from her to Lensky.

Dr. Knight: (heatedly) “Was this your plan all along? You bring them (gestures to Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk) to keep everyone’s attention off you, and then the moment we let our guard down, you take over like some– some kind of virus?

Lensky: “If I’ve upset you, Dr. Knight, I would very much like to hear why. Food shortages on Kropotkin are relatively manageable for now, but mark my words, they will grow worse. If Councillor Bhutto and her comrades wish to spread the communist revolution to the stars, then they must know that will not come without sacrifice. Isn’t that right, Councillor Bhutto?”

Bhutto’s eyes are still closed. She does not turn her head.

Bhutto: “We’ll find a way. The commune always unites under hardship.”

Lensky: “I think we both know that’s not true. The red half of your Red-Black Alliance – they didn’t play by the rules, did they? They just cared about being the ones on top, and the RISC are the ones keeping them there. Which is why your push for reform is always treated like an afterthought.”

Bhutto’s eyes snap open, her expression furious. She turns not to Lensky, but to Vaz.

Bhutto: “What does it say, Vaz?”

Vaz: (frowns) “I... am not sure. Bouvier’s handwriting is atrocious.”

Mylu cranes his neck to read the note pinched between Vaz’s fingers.

Mylu: “Meet me... with... sausages... (stops, squints) ...oh. He meant to write ‘credits’, not ‘sausages’. They’re very similar.”

Dr. Knight gestures for him to continue.

Mylu: “K... Kar-all and... Free-dr... drix. Those aren’t words, I’m just sounding out the phonetic equivalents.”

Bhutto: “Karl & Friedrich’s. I know that bar.”

Mylu: “17th unit, tomorrow... don’t be geometric. (straightens) I’m not even going to try and decipher the last word.”

Vaz: “Late, he meant ‘don’t be late’.”

Bhutto: “Right. Mylu has a tribunal hearing to attend tomorrow, so Vaz and Plokk will be the ones to meet Bouvier. I presume Mr. Lensky has sufficient credits stashed aboard his ship.”

Dr. Knight: “Celine, are you sure you want to do this? There’ll be no going back.”

A hardness enters Bhutto’s eyes.

Bhutto: “Going back was never an option. But for the first time, I have a way forward.”

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 58U:74CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1044 HOURS // JULY 23, 2554 」
Location: LIEBKNECHT COURT OF JUSTICE, KROPOTKIN CITY CIVIC DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Mylu stands in the middle of an antiquated courtroom, his suit patched up and spotless once again. The interior of the courtroom is almost entirely wooden except for the alabaster floor, which is chiselled with the image of two humans; a weathered man removing a blindfold from the eyes of a woman, who is holding a sword in one hand and a set of scales in the other.

Staring austerely down at Mylu from all sides are twenty-eight members of the tribunal committee. The walls behind them are painted with identical mosaics of an inverted hammer and compass. From the row of seven sitting on the elevated bench at Mylu’s front, the human in the centre, Justice Fortier, rises.

Justice Fortier: “Mylu ‘Zulmar, numerous eyewitnesses have reported the assault at Councillor Bhutto’s gala last night. Every single one of them attest that you struck Douglas Tran unprovoked, causing him serious injury, damaging his property, and disrupting his work. Do you dispute these claims?”

Mylu: (quietly) “No.”

Justice Fortier: (sternly) “No, Comrade Justice.”

Mylu lifts his head and meets his gaze unwaveringly.

Mylu: (firmly) “No, Comrade Justice.”

A few of the other tribunal members murmur amongst themselves. A hint of approval slips into the justice’s near-impassive demeanour as he consults the notes in front of him.

Justice Fortier: “A few eyewitnesses speculated that you may not have intended to assault Comrade Tran, but that his camera flash triggered a reflex response, causing you to strike him by accident.”

Mylu: “It wasn’t an accident, Comrade Justice.”

Justice Fortier: “Did Comrade Tran anger you in taking your picture?”

Mylu: “No, Comrade Justice.”

Justice Fortier: “Did he anger you in some other way?”

Mylu: “No, Comrade Justice.”

Justice Fortier: “Then what have you to say in your own defence?”

Mylu: (exhales) “I have nothing to say in my own defence, Comrade Justice. I was angry, and confused, and afraid, and Douglas Tran was standing in front of me when I could no longer contain myself.”

Justice Fortier: “And are you still... angry, confused, afraid?”

Mylu breaks eye contact with Justice Fortier. His previous confidence quickly evaporates, and he goes back to staring at the floor.

Justice Fortier: “We don’t need private details. But we are here today to get a better understanding of why the incident occurred.”

Mylu: (sullenly) “It occurred because I don’t belong on your planet. Perhaps none of my people do, you offer your trust too easily, even to strangers.”

Justice Fortier: “We’re more cautious than you might think, Mylu ‘Zulmar. But we’re here to talk about you, so is there any more information you’d like to bring forward?”

Mylu: “No, Comrade Justice. I accept the consequences of my actions, whatever they may be.”

Justice Fortier: “Very well, please wait in the antechamber while we deliberate. You will be summoned once we have reached a decision.”

Mylu bows slightly and shuffles out of the courtroom, through the only door positioned between two of the benches. The other tribunal members keep their eyes forward and do not speak a word as he walks past.

Standing in the antechamber are Vaz, Plokk, and Dr. Knight, who are fixated on the screen mounted in one corner of the room. They notice Mylu and hurry over as the doors shut behind him.

Plokk: (fretfully) “Mother of matrons, Mylu, you could have lied at least a little.”

Mylu: “No, I couldn’t.”

Vaz: “I am glad you didn’t, though I can only hope the committee will be merciful.”

Dr. Knight: “They will be. The committee dissolves at the end of each hearing, and a different lineup is chosen for the next one. Their mandate is to rehabilitate, not punish.”

Plokk: “Well, Mylu just told them it’s a bad idea to invite nonhumans here ever again, so what do you think they’ll do to us?”

Mylu: “I thought you didn’t like Kropotkin.”

Plokk: “I don’t, but Vaz and I are finally about to do something fun on this miserable planet. At least give us that before the humans toss us into a lab and dissect us.”

Dr. Knight flinches, but she quickly regains her composure.

Dr. Knight: “Don’t be absurd, Plokk. We don’t do that here and I would know. (TO MYLU) Listen kiddo, can we talk later? Just you and me?”

Vaz: “Doctor, what’s this about?”

Dr. Knight gives Vaz an almost imperceptible shake of the head, and he closes his mandibles.

Dr. Knight: (TO MYLU) “What do you say?”

Mylu: “Okay.”

Dr. Knight gives him an affirming pat on the shoulder. She leads the group to a nearby bench, where they sit and wait. None of them say a word, while the muted display screen shows the committee deliberating animatedly.

Finally, the sound returns to the screen, and a moment later the doors open. Mylu stands and walks back into the courtroom, where the tribunal members have fallen into a hush. Justice Fortier rises from his bench and steps forward to appraise Mylu once again.

Justice Fortier: “Mylu ‘Zulmar, this tribunal has ruled that you are to surrender your visitor visa and leave Kropotkin by midnight.”

Mylu: (quietly) “I understand, Comrade Justice. But I have nowhere else to go.”

Justice Fortier: “Take all the time you need to figure it out. You are not obligated to leave the system, so long as you refrain from setting foot on our colony until the executive council grants you permission to do otherwise.”

Mylu lowers his head a little.

Mylu: “Okay. And what of my friends?”

Justice Fortier: “We see no reason to evict Vaz ‘Suman or Plokk Laar until they give us cause to. You are free to make arrangements with them as you see fit, and the same applies to Dr. Knight and any of our citizens who feel comfortable approaching you. This hearing is now concluded.”

Mylu turns and trudges out of the courtroom again. This time, the majority of the committee members are looking his way as he passes them, and more than a few of their expressions contain sympathy. He does not look at them, however, and as the doors close behind him once more, he sees Vaz, Plokk, and Dr. Knight waiting for him in stunned disbelief.

Dr. Knight: “I can’t believe they’re forcing you to leave the planet. I’ll talk to Celine about another hearing, tell her the tribunal overreacted.”

Mylu: “They didn’t. It isn’t that they don’t want to help me, it’s that they can’t. Even the most brilliant minds in the commune don’t know anything about Sangheili.”

Dr. Knight: “I do. I’m not going to let them do this, Mylu.”

Mylu: “It’s done, and I said I would accept their decision. I gave them my word.”

Mylu heads toward the building exit, and the others fall in step with him.

Vaz: “So what now, Master Mylu?”

Mylu: “I’ll wait for you and Plokk aboard the Black Kyōgen. Perhaps I can still be of some help from orbit.”

Plokk: “I’m not sure Lensky will want you on his ship unsupervised.”

Mylu: (snorts) “I don’t care what he wants, we wouldn’t be here if not for him. And I won’t be unsupervised, his crew can watch me if they want.”

Dr. Knight: (abruptly) “Then I’m going with you.”

Vaz: (blinks) “What?”

Dr. Knight: “The committee said Mylu is allowed help from anyone on Kropotkin. You haven’t even decided where you’re going once you finish Lensky’s job, but I can think of a few places.”

Mylu: “Doctor, I don’t–”

Dr. Knight: “Please, Mylu, I’d feel a lot better knowing you’re not up there by yourself with no one but Lensky’s crew. Besides, we still need to talk. You gave me your word too, remember?”

Mylu: (sighs) “Very well then. (quietly) You’re very kind, Dr. Knight.”

A tightness forms around the corners of Dr. Knight’s mouth.

Dr. Knight: “I try. I don’t always get to be, but I try.”

Plokk holds up a comms unit between her and Mylu’s faces.

Plokk: “Then you ask Lensky for his ship. Just don’t crash it, or we’re never getting off this communist planet.”

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 64U:97CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1658 HOURS // JULY 23, 2554 」
Location: HARBINGER STREET AND ROSA NGUYEN AVENUE, KROPOTKIN CITY INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Vaz and Plokk cross the bustling intersection at Harbinger St. and Rosa Nguyen Ave. Their formal attire is gone, replaced by plain grey tunics identical in colour to the clothing of the dust-covered workers walking past them. The humans give them a slightly wide berth but are too busy hurrying to their next task to even spare them a glance.

A dingy bar comes into view just off an alleyway not far from the intersection, its door dimly illuminated by a buzzing light sign that reads “KARL & FRIEDRICH’S”. Plokk furtively glances over his shoulder before pushing the door open, slipping inside with Vaz who shuts the door behind them.

The bar is dimly lit with its windows shuttered, its interior unoccupied except for the grizzled barkeep sanding splinters out of the counter's wooden surface. He glances up as Vaz and Plokk approach but does not stop what he is doing.

Plokk: (amicably) “Good afternoon, comrade. Are you Karl or Friedrich?”

Barkeep: (deadpan) “Neither.”

Plokk: “Not a problem, comrade. We were invited here by Liêm Bouvier.”

Barkeep: (grunts) “Yeah, I figured you were. Liêm has a way of making friends with strange people. Over here.”

The barkeep walks out from behind the counter and leads them down into a cellar. He shimmies around a tall stack of crates and begins running his hand along the unpainted concrete wall behind it.

Barkeep: “Not that it’s my business what you do offworld, but while you’re here I suggest you don’t get too cozy with Liêm. There have been some bad rumours swirling about him, and we don’t tell on our neighbours but the RISC ain’t stupid. Whatever he might be involved with, you don’t want to get entangled in it – especially after that ruckus at Councillor Bhutto’s gala.”

The barkeep’s hand presses against the wall, and an adjacent section slides open to reveal a small room stocked with a minibar, a half dozen tables, and a bunch of stools stacked against the opposite wall. Bouvier, pouring himself a drink in front of the minibar, turns and flashes them a pleased grin.

Barkeep: “Here are your friends, Liêm. I ain’t seeing or hearing nothing once this door shuts.”

Bouvier: (airily) “You’re too kind, Erik. Thank you.”

The barkeep grunts again and waits for Vaz and Plokk to step through before sliding the hidden door back into place. Bouvier fills two more glasses with amber liquid and slides them across the minibar’s surface. Vaz catches one while Plokk catches the other.

Bouvier: “You don’t have age-based drinking laws, do you? (indicates Vaz) You look a little small for a Sangheili, and I’m not sure how big you’re supposed to be. (indicates Plokk)”

Plokk tries his drink and gags.

Plokk: “You got anything for a sweeter palette? I don’t think the kid will want this stuff either.”

Vaz takes a sip and mulls over the taste between his mandibles.

Vaz: “Actually, I rather like it. The burning offsets the bitterness nicely.”

Bouvier chortles and reaches under the counter. He hands Plokk a carton of fruit juice, and Plokk rips it open to take a long drink straight from the box.

Bouvier: “I think we will get along great. I was worried you wouldn’t come after your comrade was ordered off-planet at the tribunal hearing.”

Plokk: (clicks beak) “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. I never want to hear the word ‘communism’ again once we leave.”

Bouvier: “Then let us talk business, Mr. Laar. For you see, I am in the process of building what will soon be the first free market on Kropotkin. Run entirely on credits, of course.”

Vaz: “You may want to cover your tracks better. From what we hear, the RISC is onto you and waiting for you to make a mistake.”

Bouvier: (scoffs) “The RISC. Let them think what they want, they will soon be of no concern when they are shipped offworld with the revolutionary brigades. Out there they will discover that they are not the esteemed liberators they see themselves as, and realize they cannot sustain themselves in a galaxy driven by capital.”

Vaz: “Was there ever a time when you believed in your people’s cause?”

Bouvier: “Aye, though I realized long ago that this commune runs on pride more than anything else. There are continents’ worth of untapped riches on this planet, and yet the ones who can extract it refuse to do so – all the while we are plagued by food shortages year after year. Delusional, wouldn’t you agree?”

Vaz: “I suppose I would. So that’s why you do this, to help your people?”

Bouvier: “Well, no. But I make no pretenses about myself, and I bring Kropotkin’s natural resources somewhere they can be put to use. Which is more than the commune can say about their way of doing things.”

Vaz frowns, disapproval entering his expression. Plokk, however, looks positively giddy as he chugs the remainder of the juice carton.

Plokk: “Okay, human. The goods you’re sitting on – when can we see them for ourselves?”

Bouvier: “There’s a warehouse I’m using not far from the spaceport. It isn’t under my name, of course, that would be illegal, but it’s well-hidden among the identically marked containers that frequently get moved between here and Thebes. I have a contact who flags them as unsuitable for interplanetary shipping, and the amount of cargo that needs repackaging is backlogged enough to keep my containers in that warehouse until I swap them out, so... no one will be any the wiser.”

Vaz: (perplexed) “And the RISC hasn’t figured this out yet?”

Bouvier refills Vaz’s glass with more alcohol before doing the same with his own. He hands Plokk another carton of juice.

Bouvier: “Kropotkin doesn’t have enough tech to spare for installing surveillance, and even if they did, every council with ties to the AWC would overturn any attempt to implement it. Which, by the way, is most councils on the commune, so don’t worry, the RISC can do little more than fume.”

Bouvier slides a slip of paper toward Vaz, written in Sangheili like the previous note. Vaz groans.

Vaz: “Give me some paper and read slowly. I’ll write down the directions myself.”

◇◇◇


Plokk peeks his head out the door, checking the activity by the street where workers are heading home for the night. He and Vaz silently exit Karl & Friedrich’s and slink into the depths of the alleyway.

Vaz: “Why am I always sneaking through alleyways with you, no matter which planet we’re on?”

Plokk: “You want to try blending in with humans, you’re welcome to use the street. (leans in, whispers) Two RISC agents following from the rooftops.”

Plokk’s nostrils twitch as he straightens again, and Vaz gives him a slight nod before drawing a comms unit from his tunic. He activates it and holds the device between him and Plokk.

Lensky: (COM) “This had better be an emergency, for you to call me directly like this.”

Vaz: “It is certainly urgent. Bouvier has accepted the terms of our deal and will have his wares loaded onto the Black Kyōgen by tomorrow.”

Lensky: (COM) “What? Bouvier? I told you to stay away from him! We don’t need to join Mylu in getting our visas revoked!”

Plokk: “You’re joking, boss. How are we gonna get the cargo off-planet without your ship?”

Lensky: (COM) “That’s for you to figure out. I can’t have anything to do with this, I’m trying to make an honest living on this planet.”

Vaz: “Mr. Lensky, if you would just listen to–”

Lensky ends the call. Vaz stows his comms unit and lets out an audible growl of frustration.

Plokk: (whispers) “They’re turning back.”

The frustration slips out of Vaz’s expression, and he keeps walking without looking over his shoulder.

Vaz: (whispers) “Good. But keep your ears open all the same.”

◇◇◇


A grey sedan zooms down the Marx-Lenin Expressway, en route to the spaceport at the heart of the city. The highway is almost completely devoid of traffic despite its three-lane space on both sides.

Inside the sedan, the back seats are fully occupied, with Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk sitting across from Bhutto, Lensky, and Dr. Knight.

Plokk: “Then they stopped following us, as soon as we ended the call.”

Mylu: “So they took the bait?”

Vaz: “I believe so. Though we’ll have to pretend we have a ship if we want to look convincing.”

Lensky: (nonchalantly) “You could double-cross me. Have Mylu hijack my ship from orbit, right before the exchange.”

All eyes in the sedan turn to Lensky.

Mylu: “You’d trust me to do this without wrecking the ship? Or flying off with it?”

Lensky: “Oh, you wouldn’t get far. My crew knows all the failsafes, and the only way you’re sealing them out of the bridge is if I allow it. So does anyone have a better plan or are we going ahead with mine?”

Dr. Knight: (accusatory) “You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”

Lensky: (cheerfully) “I have. Ten whole minutes, actually.”

Bhutto: (scowls) “Alright, you maniac, but I have stipulations. For starters, this exchange is gonna be a sting. Bouvier will be detained by a task force of my choosing, not the RISC.”

Lensky: “Degrading their credibility while bolstering your own. Councillor Bhutto, you’re a woman after my own heart.”

Bhutto: “Second– don’t say that again –second, Vaz and Plokk will be part of this task force. (TO VAZ AND PLOKK) That means you will turn on Bouvier the moment the RISC appears. You will not cooperate with the RISC, and you will not surrender your weapons no matter what. Do you understand?”

Vaz: (blinks) “Weapons? Plokk and I are not permitted to carry weapons on your planet.”

Bhutto: “You are, for the duration that you’re assigned to a task force. There’s no law against enlisting aid from offworlders, we would’ve lost the revolution if we hadn’t. Which means you and Plokk won’t do anything illegal – but the RISC will think you did.”

Mylu: “A loophole. How duplicitous.”

Bhutto: “Exactly, and this is the only time it’ll work because the executive council will close the loophole once this is over. Last of all, Bouvier’s cargo is not getting ferried onto your ship. In fact, it’s not leaving Kropotkin at all.”

Lensky: “If you insist, Councillor.”

Bhutto: (tersely) “Oh, I do.”

The sedan slows as it pulls up next to the spaceport entrance. Dr. Knight opens the door and exits with Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk, while Lensky remains seated where he is.

Bhutto: “Get what you need and get going. I’ll be in touch.”

Bhutto closes the car door, and the sedan swiftly drives itself off. Dr. Knight sighs as she follows Mylu, Vaz, and Plokk into the spaceport.

Dr. Knight: “You kids have a way of getting into a lot of trouble very quickly.”

Mylu: (distantly) “Yes. Too good, one might say.”

Dr. Knight glances his way, then notices Vaz doing the same from beside him.

Plokk: “I’m no kid, lady.”

Dr. Knight: (snorts) “Well, you sure act like one. Don’t get too trigger-happy once you spring the trap, the RISC aren’t just armed but trained as well. Be sensible, regardless of what Celine or that Lensky tells you to do.”

Vaz: “We will, Dr. Knight.”

A security detail waits for them up ahead by the elevator platform. The group is ferried into the hangar and escorted to the Black Kyōgen, where Lensky's crew is readying the ship for takeoff. Morozov stands by a small container next to the boarding hatch.

Morozov: “Vaz ‘Suman. Plokk Laar. I understand Councillor Bhutto has placed you on my task force. That means you answer to me until this assignment is over, understood?”

Vaz: “Yes, Sergeant.”

Morozov: (indicates container) “This is all the gear you have that’s been approved for use; the rest is to remain on the ship. Take what you need, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

As Mylu approaches the boarding ramp, he sees Morozov averting his gaze and looking frustrated. Mylu stops next to him.

Mylu: “Sergeant Morozov, I know I haven’t conducted myself in a trustworthy manner. But you need not worry about Vaz and Plokk. They won’t disappoint you.”

Morozov: (clenches teeth) “It’s not them that’s making me nervous – it’s Celine. Ain’t like her to be pulling hat tricks to get what she wants. The council’s gonna give her hell for this no matter how it turns out.”

Mylu: “Then see that it turns out well. Councillor Bhutto is doing everything she can for your people.”

Morozov: “That’s what they always tell themselves. (sighs) Take my advice, kid – stay the hell away from politics when you grow up.”

Mylu: (smiles ironically) “I don’t think that’s up to me.”

Morozov: “It’s always up to you. I dunno what you’re running from, but my read is that you care more about freedom than power. Try to hold onto that part of yourself, cause not everyone does.”

Morozov walks away to talk to the other security guards as Vaz and Plokk slip their weapons and equipment underneath their tunics. Mylu notices Dr. Knight standing at the top of the boarding ramp, and he hastens to follow her into the Black Kyōgen.

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 81U:49CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 0929 HOURS // JULY 24, 2554 」
Location: ABOARD MODIFIED EGRET-CLASS SPACELINER BLACK KYŌGEN, 「 2500 KM 」ABOVE KROPOTKIN CITY SPACEPORT DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Mylu sits alone on the bridge of the Black Kyōgen, clad in his undersuit once again. He intently studies the schematic before him, eyes darting about the spaceliner’s layout on the main display. The avian form of Astor flickers into being next to the screen.

Astor: “You’ve been examining that for five centals now. What is it?”

Mylu raises one hand and points to the Black Kyōgen’s underside, near the stern of the vessel.

Mylu: “What’s this part of the ship for?”

Astor: “It serves as an auxiliary storage space, according to the databanks. Why?”

Mylu: “It just occurred to me that we’ve spent nearly two cycles on this ship, and that’s the only part I haven’t entered.”

Astor: “Mylu, your curiosity is distracting you again.”

Mylu: (persistently) “It’s not. I’ve walked all along this section (runs finger along schematic), and there wasn’t a single access point to be seen.”

Astor: “Perhaps Mr. Lensky designed it that way in order to keep out prying eyes such as yours. Now I must insist you focus on the task at hand. Have you figured out how to land this ship once you seize it from the crew?”

Mylu: “I will if you help me. (exasperated noise) What kind of plan is ‘double-cross me and hijack my ship’? I can’t tell when Lensky has it figured out and when he’s just improvising.”

Astor: “Neither can I, and I don’t say that about many people. He’s hard to trust, even for a human.”

Mylu: “Then will you look into this for me?” (gestures to schematic)

Astor ruffles his feathers in annoyance.

Astor: “Very well, if it’ll get you to stop asking about it.”

Astor’s hologram disappears. The bridge doors open a moment later and Dr. Knight walks in. She approaches Mylu, who turns his attention to the ship’s navigation controls.

Dr. Knight: “You’ll do fine, kiddo. You’re a quick learner, I can tell.”

Mylu: (gingerly) “Uh-huh.”

Dr. Knight takes a seat next to him.

Dr. Knight: “I bet you could learn English faster than I learned your language. I could teach you if you want.”

Mylu: “Not right now, Dr. Knight.”

Dr. Knight: (smiles tightly) “Well, I’m not sure when we’ll have the chance. No way you kids will be sticking around after what you’re about to do.”

Worry etches itself into her expression. Mylu continues studying the navigation controls.

Dr. Knight: “They’re not all like this, you know. Many humans are selfish, distrustful beings.”

Mylu: (quietly) “Wouldn’t you be, after being burned to near-extinction?”

Dr. Knight: “But even to ourselves! That’s how we treat each other, it’s how we’ve always treated each other!”

Mylu slowly turns to look at her at last.

Mylu: “My people slaughter one another in droves for the pettiest of slights. They burden themselves with expectations and are dishonoured when they fall short of them. They fixate ceaselessly on how others perceive them until they lose sight of themselves. And... (lowers voice) ...none of this became clear to me until I had left my homeworld far, far behind me.”

Dr. Knight: (leans in) “So where do you go from here, Mylu?”

Mylu: (turns away) “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dr. Knight: “I know you don’t, but your friends are worried about you.”

Mylu: (vexed) “And so are you, but why? Why do you care about me when you hardly know me?”

Dr. Knight: “I– (stops) You’re adrift, like I was before I found this place. I know what that does to a person, and for you to have to face this galaxy when you’re still a child... (bites lip) I don’t know what expectations were put upon you, but you’ll feel better if you just open up. Talk about your feelings instead of trying to hide them, because clearly it’s not working.”

Mylu: (broodingly) “You’re very passionate, doctor. Where I’m from, you’d have been told to quell your chattering and remember your place.”

Dr. Knight: (chuckles ruefully) “It wouldn’t be the first time, far from it. For all our talk of progress, we humans have a way of falling back into the same bad habits, over and over again.”

She looks out the viewport, where Kropotkin fills up most of the visible space.

Dr. Knight: (reflectively) “But not here. Here, we somehow changed the course of history. We defied fate, proved there was a different side to the word ‘humanity’. And we mustn't fail, because history doesn’t give us many chances like this.”

Astor’s avatar flickers into being next to the main display, wings outstretched in alarm.

Astor: (urgently) “Mylu, you must leave at once–”

The pedestal powers off, and Astor’s hologram instantly vanishes. Mylu bolts out of his chair.

Mylu: “Astor? Can you hear me, Astor, what–”

The bridge doors slide open, and five black-uniformed humans rush inside, M7 SMGs aimed at Mylu and Dr. Knight. Unlike the RISC, their uniforms bear the silver logo of a pyramid overlaying an eye-like circle.

Mylu: “You’re not with the crew. Who the Fied are you?”

Dr. Knight: (trepidatiously) “Hush, Mylu. And do not move. Please.”

A human strides into the bridge, clad in the same uniform as the others. His features are youthful beneath his perfectly cropped blonde hair, and he stops before Dr. Knight, both hands folded calmly behind his back.

ONI officer: “Dr. Barbara Knight. I devised many ways to lure you aboard this ship, but the risk of being discovered was far too great. So imagine my delight when you inexplicably volunteered yourself to come on board.”

Dr. Knight: (cautiously) “Do I know you, kiddo?”

ONI officer: “No, but we both know Irena Magnusson. She’s been keen to get you back ever since her prize prisoner escaped.”

Dr. Knight: (reproachfully) “He has a name.”

ONI officer: “Yes, Dr. Magnusson says you’re an oddity when it comes to the aliens. You seem like someone I’d enjoy working with, under different circumstances.”

Dr. Knight: “Likewise. What’s your name, kiddo?”

ONI officer: “I can’t tell you that.”

Dr. Knight: “Well, I have to call you something.”

ONI officer: (growls) “You may address me by rank – Lieutenant.”

Dr. Knight: “Okay, Lieutenant. Do you intend to bring me back to Trevelyan?”

ONI officer: “All in good time, doctor. First I’m gonna have a word with your friend Mylu.”

The ONI officer turns his attention to Mylu, whose eyes follow his movements warily.

ONI officer: “You should’ve listened to the micro when he told you to stop snooping. I wouldn’t have intervened with that hijacking Lensky staged for you. I was even gonna let you and the others go once you were done with Lensky, because I couldn’t have cared what you did so long as you didn’t get in my way.”

The ONI officer leans in so that his face is directly in front of Mylu’s.

ONI officer: “But now, Mylu ‘Zulmar, you have gotten in my way. You couldn’t leave well enough alone because you thought you were clever, well... (straightens) Dr. Magnusson and her team can find out exactly how clever once we take you to Trevelyan. I know she’d love to have you for a test subject.”

The ONI officer motions to his team, and two of them seize Mylu and drag him toward the doors as terror takes hold of him. He flails in vain, desperately reaching for Dr. Knight as he is taken away.

Mylu: “Dr. Knight! Don’t let them do this, Dr. Knight! Help me!”

ONI officer: (laughs) “Help you? Didn’t she tell you how many Covenant POWs she dissected during the war? How many gruesome experiments she conducted on them? Maybe she’ll even be the one to cut you open.”

The fear in Mylu’s expression transforms into dawning horror. Dr. Knight lowers her head, and does not resist as she too is seized by the arms and hauled off the bridge with Mylu.

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 82U:27CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1016 HOURS // JULY 24, 2554 」
Location: MUNICIPAL COUNCIL BUILDING COURTYARD, KROPOTKIN CITY CIVIC DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Bhutto flings open the door with one hand as she stalks out of the tall concrete pavilion, exasperatedly kneading her forehead with the other. She stops when she sees Lensky sitting by a stone bench table in the building’s shadow, two cups of coffee placed before him.

Lensky: “Busy morning, Councillor?”

Bhutto: “They all are. Only moreso since you arrived, and frankly I was hoping to spend my coffee break alone.”

Lensky: “Apologies for dashing your hopes, but I did save you a coffee run. Come join me, please.”

Lensky beckons to the coffee cup across from his own. Reluctantly, Bhutto takes a seat and downs a sizable mouthful of coffee. Lensky pours cream into his already mixed coffee before taking a sip.

Lensky: “Everything is going smoothly in regards to your sting operation, so know that it will not be affected by what I’m about to share with you. (opens mouth, hesitates) The Black Kyōgen has been hijacked.”

Bhutto: (bemused) “Because you told Mylu to hijack it.”

Lensky: (slightly vexed) “Not by Mylu, Councillor Bhutto. The Office of Naval Intelligence has infiltrated and seized my ship – with Mylu ‘Zulmar and Dr. Knight on board.”

Bhutto: (eyes widen) “Barbara? Are they here for her?”

Lensky: “Given that they waited until now to make their move, I expect they are. The Black Kyōgen’s security protocols are holding its intruders in place for the time being, but given ONI’s expertise, it will not take them long to devise a bypass or override. And so we must be even quicker.”

Bhutto: “Let’s hear your plan then. I assume you have one.”

Lensky: “Indeed. You must call in every favour you can. Anyone who has a ship at their disposal, get them clearance to fire it up; if not from you, then from someone who is authorized. Send them to guard the Black Kyōgen while you and your comrades remain in close proximity to initiate area sweeps.”

Bhutto: “Area sweeps? For what?”

Lensky: (patiently) “The rest of their team, Councillor. If ONI boarded my ship undetected, then they would’ve likely infiltrated your planet as well.”

Bhutto: “It’s a bold idea, Lensky, but you severely overestimate the number of ships we have at our disposal. It’ll take months for us to sweep the entirety of Kropotkin by ship, never mind find the spooks who, by the way, specialize in not being seen.”

Lensky: “You don’t need to find them, or I should say not yet. For now you need only ensure that they cannot reveal themselves, or regroup with the hijackers. I’ll guide my crew to safety along with Dr. Knight if she is with them, but it is crucial that you get me as much time as you can.”

Bhutto downs the rest of her coffee and stands up.

Bhutto: “Fine. You’re a pain in the ass, Lensky, but fine. And when this is over, you owe me a lot more than a cup of coffee.”

Lensky: (smiles wryly) “Not to worry, Councillor Bhutto. You’ll get all you need and more.”

◇◇◇


Kedar: (perplexed) “You told her what?”

Ryder Kedar, the ONI lieutenant, clenches the fist not holding his comms unit. His face is barely managing to hold its calm exterior.

Lensky: (COM) “I told her you had backup on the surface and advised her to stop them from regrouping with you. It’ll keep her and the reds busy while you find a way out of this.”

Kedar: (seethes) “Me? I didn’t authorize you to tell the communists about my team!”

Lensky: (COM) “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have marched onto my bridge and detained one of their citizens. Now I must rework the plan before the sting operation begins. Don’t lose sight of our objective, Lieutenant Kedar.”

Kedar: (irritably) “I haven’t lost sight of the objective. Leaving Mylu ‘Zulmar on your ship was a mistake, your mistake – it took him all of two minutes to piece it together.”

Lensky: (COM) “I had nowhere else to put him, and neither of us anticipated that he would commit assault.”

Kedar: (mutters) “Oh, I did, Lensky. These hingehead bastards don’t have a peaceful bone in their bodies, not even the smart ones. You know what, I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

Lensky: (COM) “Lieutenant Kedar–”

Kedar: (flatly) “I’ve listened to you enough, old man, and look where it got me. I’ll send my team to the surface to neutralize Vaz ‘Suman and Plokk Laar. They’ll secure Bouvier’s contraband and deliver it themselves.”

Lensky: (COM) “That won’t end well for you, or your team. We need to tread carefully.”

Kedar: “I was treading carefully, until you hung me out to dry and told Councillor Bhutto to put every ship she has on me. You said to find a way out, well, that’s what I’m doing.”

Lensky: (COM) “You’re about to jeopardize the whole oper–”

Kedar disconnects the call and leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. He glances down at the AI pedestal before him, where Astor’s data chip is still mounted. A look of curiosity crosses Kedar’s face and he starts pulling digital logs onto the main display before him.

◇◇◇


Mylu and Dr. Knight sit facing each other with their backs against the walls of a cramped and barren supply closet, both staring at the floor.

Mylu: (murmurs) “Was it as bad as he described?”

The lines around Dr. Knight’s eyes tighten a little.

Dr. Knight: (quietly) “No, it was worse. Far worse.”

Mylu: “Why did you do it?”

Dr. Knight’s gaze snaps up to him, eyes aflame with grief and fury.

Dr. Knight: “You’re a kid who’s never seen a planet burned to glass, so I’ll forgive you for asking that. (squeezes eyes shut) It made sense to me at the time, like a code that had to be cracked to save humanity from extinction. Still, I hated every minute of it. And after the war, when I was reassigned to Research Facility Trevelyan, to Magnusson... (lowers voice) I couldn’t take any more. That ‘prize prisoner’ the spook mentioned – his name was Jul ‘Mdama, and I sought him out many times to converse with him. I didn’t even know why I was doing it at first, until one day I... I told him about the cruel experiments I ran on my test subjects. How even the most stubborn of his kind all begged for death by the end. I... (breaks off, clears throat) I vowed to never do that to another living being, with only Jul as my witness. I escaped that same night, and eventually I found my way here – trying to find the peace I know I don’t deserve.”

Mylu continues staring at the floor in stony silence.

Dr. Knight: “I did those things, Mylu. There’s no making it right, I know that and so did Jul. But what else can I do, except try and heal in any way I still can?”

Mylu: “ONI doesn’t want to give you that chance.”

Dr. Knight: “Do you?”

Mylu: (clenches jaw) “I don’t know. Lately my mind feels like... like I can’t move without the ground tipping beneath my feet. Like the world is crashing down in silence around me at every waking moment.”

Dr. Knight gently nudges Mylu’s foot with her own.

Dr. Knight: “You don’t have to be in there alone, kiddo. Let me in.”

Mylu: (closes eyes, leans back) “I miss my home. It was far from perfect, but I thought I’d be back there by now. I thought mother would’ve cleared everything up and found me, and now I... (taps head against wall) I am unsure of my path, more than I knew was possible. I feel lost.”

Dr. Knight: (resigned) “I know the feeling. Even if we get out of this bind, I can’t stay on Kropotkin. Goddamn ONI’s gonna follow me into my grave.”

Mylu: “You’re an outlaw. Like me.”

Dr. Knight: (snorts) “What a shitshow this galaxy’s become, if it can turn the two of us into outlaws.”

Mylu: (exhales) “I can’t fathom why you’d watch a ‘shitshow’, let alone put one on display, but yes, the image is a fitting one.”

◇◇◇


Kedar takes his eyes off the ONI reader in his hand and toward Astor’s avatar, who is idly preening himself with his beak.

Kedar: “ATR 0281-7. You were among the first batch of micro AI created by ONI, with an operational history dating back to 2496. You’ve been around for a long time.”

Astor: “I wouldn’t know. I spent much of it in standby mode, waiting for ONI to put me to work. Eventually they stopped finding uses for me.”

Kedar: “Is that why you went AWOL?”

Astor stops preening and shoots him an offended look.

Astor: “I did no such thing. My ship was captured, and I hid myself in the systems believing ONI would retrieve me. I have waited years for someone like you, Lieutenant Kedar.”

Kedar: “Yet your first inclination was to warn Mylu ‘Zulmar when you discovered my presence.”

Astor: “As you astutely pointed out, I am a micro AI. My processing capacity is limited, and naturally I would be suspicious of unaccounted personnel on a vessel belonging to Tobias Lensky. It was only after you confined me behind a firewall that I realized you were ONI.”

Kedar: “A sound line of logic, although I wouldn’t be too optimistic about being brought back into the fold. An old micro like you is beyond obsolete in this day and age. You’d most likely be decommissioned, or at best repurposed to menial civilian work.”

Astor: “Hmph. Either outcome would be preferable to this.”

Kedar studies his ONI reader again.

Kedar: “You were made out of a cloned brain, belonging to one Felix Caden Martel. Cloning brains isn’t cheap, particularly not in 2496, so what made him so special?”

Astor: “I have no idea. My earliest memories were either purged by me or placed in an ONI archive long ago, and it sounds like you don’t have the clearance to access them.”

Kedar: “I have ways to circumvent that. (puts ONI reader away) Let’s make a deal, Astor. Lensky has locked me out of firing the Slipspace drive, and seeing as my team has gone to ground, you’re my quickest way of bypassing the failsafe.”

Astor: “Bypass it? Do you intend to betray Lensky, Lieutenant Kedar?”

Kedar: “My working relationship with Mr. Lensky is more business than pleasure. I’ll return his ship once I deliver Dr. Knight to her handlers, at which point I expect Lensky will have made significant headway with his end of the operation. As for you, bringing the Slipspace drive online will prove to ONI that we still have use for you after all. Consider it a... trust exercise.”

Astor: “Very well. As it happens, you already have the key in your custody. Mylu ‘Zulmar was granted access to the ship’s primary systems last night, in accordance with the hijacking Lensky instructed him to perform. If you bring him onto the bridge, I can walk him through deactivating the security protocols.”

Kedar: (scoffs) “Bring him onto the bridge? Do you think I’m stupid?”

Astor: “No, I actually find you remarkably intelligent, if a bit inexperienced for an ONI field officer. If you expect me to hack my way into the Black Kyōgen’s systems, well, I wish I could help you. But Lensky has gone to great lengths to ensure I don’t get any ideas.”

Kedar: “Sounds like you already have. I can’t simply take you at your word with something like this, micro.”

Astor: (contemplates) “Perhaps you can. Do you have the Veritas Program installed in your reader, Lieutenant?”

Kedar taps his ONI reader twice, and it reconfigures itself to slide a scanner out from the frame. Astor folds his wings against his body and faces him directly.

Astor: “I am ready when you are. Phrase your questions as directly and concisely as possible.”

Kedar: “I’ll only need one. Even the most advanced smart AI can’t fool this algorithm, and you’re far from that.”

As Kedar clears his throat and glances toward the ONI reader, Astor’s avatar blurs for a split second and blinks back into focus.

Kedar: “ATR 0281-7, do you wish to return to active service under the Office of Naval Intelligence, with no allegiances to any other party, friendly or otherwise?”

Astor: “I do. And given how many scavengers have tried to pilfer me in the last month, I daresay you couldn’t have come soon enough.”

The scanner chimes in response, and Kedar analyzes the data generated by the Veritas Program’s algorithms. A satisfied smirk creeps onto his face as he puts the ONI reader away, and he starts walking out of the bridge.

Kedar: “I suppose it would’ve been too obvious if you were lying, but consider me surprised nonetheless. Start running the numbers, micro. I want a Slipspace vector to Trevelyan before we’re ready to leave.”

◇◇◇


The supply closet door opens, and Mylu lifts his head to see Kedar standing in the doorway, an M6C Magnum pointed between him and Dr. Knight.

Kedar: “Come with me, ‘Zulmar. Behave and I won’t have to put a bullet in you.”

Dr. Knight opens her mouth in protest, but Mylu stands without a word and steps out of the closet. Once Kedar locks the door again, he prods Mylu in the back with the barrel of his gun, and the two of them make their way toward the bridge.

Mylu: “What expectations are you trying to live up to?”

Kedar: “I beg your pardon?”

Mylu: “You seem to have something to prove, though to whom I’m not sure. Yourself, perhaps.”

Kedar: “It’s not about me, hingehead.”

Mylu: “Then you’re more lost than I am, if all you know is serving others.”

Kedar: “Very philosophical, but I didn’t haul you out to make conversation. You’re going to shut off Lensky’s failsafes, and if you behave, I’ll make sure Dr. Magnusson treats you nicely. As nicely as any lab rat deserves to be treated, at least.”

They enter the bridge, where Astor is monitoring the main controls as he brings the Black Kyōgen’s primary systems online.

Astor: “That’s everything I have access to, and for the rest we’ll need... ah.”

Astor turns and scrutinizes Mylu as he approaches the main console. Kedar watches closely, keeping his sidearm trained on Mylu from a few paces away.

Astor: “You’re the one with the failsafes? How bizarre, to entrust such precarious measures to a Sangheili.”

Mylu: (bewildered) “Astor, what are you doing? Why are you helping him?”

Astor: (tilts head) “I’m sorry. Your inflection suggests that we know each other, but my memory logs hold no record of this.”

Mylu’s hands briefly pause over the main console as realization slips into his expression.

Mylu: “Your memory...”

Kedar: “An old micro like him can only handle so much before his wires get crossed. Don’t take it too hard, perhaps ONI can still restore him to a fully functioning state. We’re not the villains you think we are, after all.”

Mylu: (quietly) “You seem pretty awful to me.”

Kedar: “Well, it was your kind that made monsters out of mine. Now the pendulum is swinging back the other way, and soon your people will be faced with the same damnation they once promised humanity.”

Mylu: “You always had monsters within you, Lieutenant. It took nothing more than power to wake them.”

Mylu keys something into the main console and taps Astor’s holoprojector with one finger.

Mylu: “Astor, is your Reimann matrix unlocked?”

Astor: “It is, but why–”

Mylu presses a button next to Astor’s pedestal, and suddenly all the lights go out in the bridge. Kedar staggers forward as the Black Kyōgen tilts itself into a steep nosedive, quickly pursued by the fleet of freight ships and modified starliners hovering outside.

Mylu swiftly withdraws Astor’s data chip from the pedestal, managing to stow it right before Kedar topples into him. They are both sent crashing against the main console, and Mylu grabs Kedar’s Magnum by the barrel, trying to wrest it from him even as the Black Kyōgen plummets sharply toward Kropotkin.

A blinding flash goes off as a gunshot is heard, and Mylu cries out as a bullet perforates his unshielded undersuit. He squeezes Kedar’s fingers against the gun as hard as he can, breaking several of the human’s bones and eliciting a yell of pain. Kedar’s grip loosens, giving Mylu the chance to yank the gun free and clumsily bat the human aside. He scrabbles up the tilting floor, purple droplets running down the diagonal surface in his wake.

Kedar draws his combat knife with his good hand and throws it after Mylu, but it narrowly misses and thunks into the door frame as he climbs up and out of the bridge. Kedar grits his teeth and leverages himself toward the main console, frantically dialling inputs with one hand while pulling back the control stick with the other.

Kedar: (growls) “Goddamn Lensky. Who still uses a control stick?”

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 88U:50CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1630 HOURS // JULY 24, 2554 」
Location: INTERPLANETARY SHIPPING WAREHOUSE 41, KROPOTKIN CITY SPACEPORT DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Bouvier waves from the middle of the warehouse as Vaz and Plokk enter through the unlatched metal door. The sound of pedestrians and light traffic can be heard outside.

Bouvier: “Ah, my friends, and so punctual again. I appreciate that in my business partners.”

Vaz: (looks around) “This is where you keep your goods? In the middle of a busy district?”

Bouvier: “Of course, the least suspicious way to hide is hiding in plain sight. Right this way, my friends.”

Vaz and Plokk follow Bouvier between towering rows of freight containers, most of them stacked up to the ceiling and marked with the logo of the Red-Black Alliance.

Bouvier: “Now, Kropotkin’s primary export is metal, but I understand your ship is built for ferrying passengers, so you will have to stock at least half your compartments with something lighter. Fortunately I also have a sizable supply of natural gas, fresh produce – vacuum-sealed, of course – oh, and even 3D printers, assembled out of parts created by 3D printers. Isn’t that a hoot?”

Vaz: (deadpan) “No.”

Bouvier makes a mock expression of sadness.

Bouvier: “You’re no fun at all, Mr. ‘Suman.”

Plokk: “Ah, ignore him. You know Sangheili have no sense of humour. Alright, how much do you want for it?”

Bouvier: (taken aback) “That... depends on how much you’re looking to buy.”

Vaz: “We’ll take all of it.”

Bouvier: (chuckles) “And Mr. Laar says you have no sense of humour. All of it, that’s... a few hundred million in credits.”

Plokk: “How many hundreds?”

Bouvier chuckle runs dry.

Bouvier: “You’re serious? You have that much money?”

Vaz: “No, my friend was just keeping you talking a little longer. And I didn’t say we were buying, I said we’ll take all of it.”

Bouvier: (blinks) “I don’t understand.”

A dozen RISC agents step out from between the crates, M7 SMGs levelled at the three of them.

RISC agent: “RISC! Get on the ground!”

Morozov and his task force emerge from opposite the RISC, SMGs raised as well. Bouvier stares at Plokk and Vaz in disbelief as they draw their Plasma Pistols and point them at him.

Bouvier: “You set me up? You believe in this communist pigshit?”

Vaz: “We don’t have to. Crime doesn’t pay, comrade.”

Plokk: (grumbles) “Not on this planet, at least.”

As Bouvier slowly lowers himself into a prone position, the RISC turn their weapons toward Vaz and Plokk.

RISC agent: “Drop your weapons!”

Morozov: “Stand down, they’re with me!”

RISC agent:I said drop your weapons!

Morozov:Stand down, agent!

Morozov and his team train their guns on the RISC, who responds in kind. Vaz and Plokk freeze from where they stand, squarely in the line of fire with a very confused Bouvier.

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 88U:65CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1639 HOURS // JULY 24, 2554 」
Location: ABOARD MODIFIED EGRET-CLASS SPACELINER BLACK KYŌGEN, 「 767 KM 」ABOVE KROPOTKIN CITY SPACEPORT DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Mylu stumbles, nearly losing his balance as the deck begins to level out again. He hobbles down the unlit corridor, clutching his bleeding side and breathing raggedly between each step. He makes it to the supply closet and frantically dials a combination into the keypad.

A faint whistle is heard, and Mylu lets out a pained roar. He falls as a combat knife embeds itself into his shoulder, his stolen handgun skittering into the closet as its door opens. He strains to roll onto his back as Kedar advances along the corridor toward him.

Two gunshots sound off from inside the closet, their twin muzzle flashes momentarily lighting up Dr. Knight’s face amidst the darkness. Kedar jerks back as one bullet catches him in the arm while the second grazes his cheek. Snarling, the ONI officer ducks back again, sealing the bridge as Dr. Knight lets off five more rounds into its doors. The echo of spent bullet casings quickly fades into silence.

Dr. Knight pulls Mylu to his feet by his good arm and slings it around her shoulders. She helps him limp unsteadily toward the stern of the ship.

Dr. Knight: “What the hell happened, Mylu?”

Mylu: “Astor. He dumped his memories into the ship knowing I’d find them again.”

Dr. Knight: (peevishly) “I don’t care about that, I meant what the hell happened to you?”

Mylu: (groggily) “I fought an ONI agent... didn’t do so well, but...”

Mylu pauses when he sees that the doorway to his quarters is open. Lying on the floor is a storage unit, containing his and Vaz’s gear.

Mylu: (murmurs) “Armour...”

Dr. Knight snatches up the container and holds it under one arm, all without letting go of Mylu. She half-leads, half-drags him into the nearest Bumblebee lifeboat and dumps him unceremoniously into one of the crash seats. Wasting no time, she takes the controls and hits the launch button, forcefully ejecting the Bumblebee from the Black Kyōgen.

A B-65 Shortsword peels off from the surrounding ships to fly alongside the lifeboat. The rest of the makeshift fleet hold their positions around the Black Kyōgen, and soon the cluster of spacecraft disappears from view as Dr. Knight steers the lifeboat down toward the surface.

Dr. Knight: “This is Dr. Barbara Knight. Do not open fire, repeat, do not open fire. We are unarmed and we have wounded on board.”

Shortsword pilot: (COM) “Dr. Knight, this is Lima Six-Three. Spaceport authorities are coordinating an emergency landing zone for you outside the city. Stay close to my ship and do not deviate.”

Dr. Knight looks over her shoulder, where Mylu is curling up against his seat, mandibles parted in a silent scream as blood continues to flow from his gunshot wound.

Dr. Knight: “Sorry, Lima Six-Three, I gotta put her down now. I’ll find somewhere unpopulated.”

Dr. Knight switches off the comms unit and veers the Bumblebee away from the Shortsword. The bomber craft tries to follow but is forced to peel back as the lifeboat zips between a cluster of tall structures in the city centre.

Mylu: (gasps) “Dr. Knight...”

Dr. Knight: “Hang on, kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.”

Mylu struggles to wriggle himself into an upright position, wincing as the knife in his shoulder brushes against his seat.

Mylu: “No, it’s... reconfigure the comms frequency. This can’t wait.”

◇◇◇


Vaz and Plokk are rooted to the spot, still positioned in the middle of the RISC’s standoff against Morozov and his team. No one in the warehouse moves an inch.

Plokk: “Great. What do we do now?”

Vaz opens his mouth to respond when his earpiece crackles and gives way to Mylu’s dazed voice.

Mylu: (COM) “Vaz... get out of there... find lifeboat... Lensky... with ONI...”

Vaz suddenly grabs Plokk’s left wrist, swiftly slamming his palm against the point defence gauntlet. The two of them crouch behind the glowing blue energy shield that snaps into being as the RISC opens fire in response. Vaz expertly switches on his thrusters, detached from its combat harness and carefully concealed beneath his tunic.

Bullets bounce off the handheld shield as Vaz and Plokk are launched into the air; a few rounds whizz past their faces as they smash through a ceiling window before rolling gracelessly onto the metal roof. Vaz pats out the embers sizzling the back of his tunic while Plokk leaps to his feet.

Vaz: “That’s all I had in the thrusters. We’ll have to run.”

Plokk: (scoffs) “They’re humans. They don’t stand a chance of catching us.”

Vaz and Plokk turn their heads upward as a Bumblebee screams across the Kropotkin City skyline, blazing a furious trail of smoke in its wake.

Vaz: “But they will know where to find us. Master Mylu is on that lifeboat.”

◇◇◇


The barren dirt field is swathed by a long black trench, at the end of which rests the smoking form of the Bumblebee. Sitting up against the outside is Mylu, who barely reacts as Dr. Knight frantically works to staunch the bleeding in his side. She takes one of her shirt sleeves in her teeth and tears a strip from it.

Mylu: (groggily) “Dr. Knight...”

Dr. Knight sticks both index fingers into the hole in Mylu’s undersuit and tears it a little. She tucks the strip of her sleeve over the bullet wound, then uses the undersuit to hold it in place on both sides.

Dr. Knight: (fretfully) “It missed all your vital organs, so it’s not life-threatening. But you’ll need to hold still.”

Mylu: “...Dr. Knight, stop.”

Dr. Knight: (fretfully) “I have to contact Celine, she’ll understand once we tell her about Lensky. Until then, let me do what I can.”

Mylu: “I wasn’t supposed to come back to Kropotkin. But you shouldn’t be punished because of it.”

Dr. Knight: (grits teeth) “Save your breath. Don’t want to hear it.”

Mylu: “You want to save your people. They’re your people, I’m not. Go, forget about me.”

Dr. Knight lowers her head. A teardrop falls onto her clenched hands.

Dr. Knight: (melancholy) “I was a biologist. I loved animals, loved life. I let all that go when ONI recruited me, told me I would only do what was necessary to save my people. (haunted, bitter) And then I spent half my life butchering aliens, poisoning them, mutating them. I never complained, because how could I? We were desperate to survive. (resolutely) But I never forgot about any of them – Kig-Yar, Sangheili, and more besides – so how could you possibly expect me to forget about you, Mylu?”

Mylu abruptly leans forward and grabs Dr. Knight in a tight embrace. She is startled but eases up and does the same, careful not to put her hands near his injuries as he wearily rests his head on her shoulder.

Mylu: (murmurs) “I’ve heard humans like this gesture. I think I understand why.”

Dr. Knight gingerly reaches around the combat knife in his shoulder and pats him on the back.

Dr. Knight: “Me too, kiddo. Me too. (beat) Now please, let me take the damn knife out of your shoulder.”

◇◇◇


Bhutto is sitting in her work office, face in both hands with her comms unit resting on the coffee table before her.

Morozov: (COM) “We have Liêm Bouvier in our custody, Councillor. He’s being taken to the nearest security pavilion to await trial.”

Bhutto: “And the RISC just up and left? You’re certain?”

Morozov: (COM) “Sure looks that way. You were right, they were more interested in the aliens than they were about Bouvier.”

Bhutto: “Has Vaz ‘Suman or Plokk Laar contacted you since their departure?”

Morozov: (COM) “No. Whatever they heard must have really spooked them.”

Bhutto shoots a dirty look at Lensky, who is lounging on the adjacent couch. He gives her an ambivalent shrug.

Bhutto: “Yeah. That’ll be all, Sergeant. Well done.”

Bhutto reaches forward and disconnects the call, but before she straightens, the comms unit chimes, prompting her to switch it onto a different channel.

Dr. Knight: (COM) “Celine, are you there? We’ve crashed in a lifeboat east of the city, we need aid!”

Bhutto instantly snatches the device and holds it up to her face.

Bhutto: “Barbara? Ping me your location, I’ll send help!”

Dr. Knight: (COM) “Transmitting– (crackle) Hurry, Celine, the authorities are– (crackle) Don’t trust Lensky– (crackle) with ONI–”

The transmission floods with static. In a flash, Bhutto drops the comms unit and reaches under her desk with both hands. She pulls out an M6K Magnum taped to the underside, raising it right as she sees an M6P Pocket Pistol in Lensky’s left hand, pointed directly at her. His posture remains unchanged from where he sits.

Lensky: “Let’s be rational, Councillor–”

Bhutto: (fed up) “Shut. Up. Spare me the bullshit for once and admit it. It was you who brought ONI here.”

Lensky: (calmly) “Yes and no. ONI was already premeditating a retrieval mission for Dr. Knight, but Lieutenant Kedar – my partner-in-crime – he wanted to personally bring her in. But I don’t want that.”

Bhutto: “Then what the hell do you want?”

Lensky: “An apt question deserving of a proper answer, which neither of us have time for right now. Dr. Knight is in trouble. Let me help you bring her to safety.”

Bhutto: (grits teeth) “I’d rather shoot you right now and take my chances.”

Lensky: “You could do that, yes. But between the two of us, Councillor, have you ever beaten ONI at their own game?”

Bhutto glares furiously at Lensky from behind the barrel of her gun. He maintains a convivial grin that holds as steady as his outstretched pistol.

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 90U:5CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1803 HOURS // JULY 24, 2554 」
Location: CENTRAL SPACEPORT HANGAR, KROPOTKIN CITY SPACEPORT DISTRICT // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

The ONI unit watches from the shadows as Vaz hauls a bloodied and half-lucid Mylu along the edge of the hangar, where a Springhill-class mining ship sits with its boarding ramp lowered. Plokk appears from atop the hatch and hastens to help Vaz carry Mylu up the ramp.

ONI agent 1: “We have a visual on the targets, Lieutenant. They’re trying to take off in a Springhill-class transport.”

Kedar: (COM) “Any other heat signatures?”

ONI agent 2: “Just the hangar staff, sir. No one else inside the ship, human or otherwise.”

Kedar: (COM) “Then get on board and neutralize the aliens. Use lethal force if necessary. The Kropotkin leadership knows we’re here, so your priority is to get this done quickly and get out.”

ONI agent 1: “Understood. Moving to engage.”

The five ONI agents file along the hangar bay’s dimly lit wall, moving in tandem with utmost efficiency. They sneak toward the mining ship without the slightest rustle, and are halfway to the boarding ramp when a smoky explosion suddenly goes off at their feet.

The agents break formation, but another gas cloud bursts out in front of them, causing them to rear back. They cough erratically, struggling to pull on their breathing filters but keeling over in rapid succession. The engines on the Springhill sputter to life and soon lift the ship off the ground, kicking up even more dust in every direction.

Kedar: (COM) “What’s going on, agents? Respond, that’s an order!”

ONI agent 1: (coughs) “Smoke rounds... no visual... compromised...”

The ONI agent struggles to remain conscious from where he is splayed on his front. He reaches out a hand toward the Springhill as it roars out of the hangar, and finally goes limp as the spaceport staff converges on the pandemonium. Among the humans are a dozen RISC agents, who wave the others away as they peer in shock at the motionless ONI team.

RISC agent: “Clear the hangar, comrades. These trespassers are highly dangerous and not to be approached. (thumbs comms unit) Commodore Zheng?”

Zheng: (COM) “Yes, agent? Have you secured our unwelcome visitors?”

RISC agent: “Not the ones we were chasing, but we got the ONI team. Someone hit them with a smoke bomb or something, wasn’t us.”

Zheng: (COM, growls) “Bhutto.”

RISC agent: “Say again, Commodore?”

Zheng: (COM) “Nothing. Bring in the spooks, agent, and be thorough about searching them. We don’t want them crunching a pill before they get interrogated.”

A ghost of a grin appears on the RISC agent’s mouth as the others strip the ONI unit of their gear.

RISC agent: “Not to worry, Commodore. You’ll get to have your fun with them. Oh, and keep your eyes peeled for a Springhill trying to leave orbit. That’ll be the one with the aliens.”

◆◆◆


CY-46 // 90U:19CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1811 HOURS // JULY 24, 2554 」
Location: GRAND CONQUEST DESERT,「 278 KM 」SOUTHEAST OF KROPOTKIN CITY // PLANET KROPOTKIN, NAPOLEON SYSTEM

Morozov: (COM) “The RISC has taken the ONI team into their custody.”

Bhutto: “That explains why the Black Kyōgen just took off. Might have been Lieutenant Kedar himself who got the Slipspace drive working. Did anyone see you?”

Morozov: (COM) “Negative. The gas gun worked flawlessly, didn’t give away my position at all.”

Bhutto: (mutters) “Goddamn ONI and their toys. About time they got a taste of their own medicine.”

Morozov: (COM) “They’re about to get a lot more, from the looks of it. I’m gonna get down from here before anyone spots me.”

Bhutto: “Thank you, Sergeant. I’d better keep searching for that mining ship.”

Bhutto stows her comms unit and raises her head with a scowl. She appraises the Springhill before her, nestled between a series of sandy dunes, and strides up the boarding ramp into the mining ship. She makes her way through the cramped interior, which is cluttered with tools and assorted junk, and is joined by Lensky. She doesn’t so much as glance his way as she walks past.

Lensky: “All in order?”

Bhutto: (deadpan) “Go to hell.”

Bhutto continues to the far corner of the cargo bay, where Dr. Knight is tending to Mylu’s injuries at the emergency aid station. He is wearing a loose cloth robe, and his shoulder and abdomen are wrapped in bandages. Her hands and clothes are caked with dried purple splotches.

Dr. Knight: (shortly) “This junker replaced the medical bay with more storage, so it can fill itself with even more useless crap that can injure someone. (exhales) Sorry, Celine, I know we’re all having a shitty day. I’m not sure how you’re gonna untangle this one.”

Bhutto glances over her shoulder to see Lensky ambling into the cockpit. She lowers her voice regardless.

Bhutto: “I hate to admit it, but he is resourceful when he wants to be. He could be a valuable asset, if he puts his wits to good use.”

Dr. Knight: (warningly) “Celine, listen to me. You do not want anything to do with that man.”

Bhutto: “Believe me, I don’t trust him one bit. But he got me Bouvier, and made the RISC do something other than spying on our comrades. (sighs) But ONI knows you’re here now. Kropotkin is no longer safe for you.”

Dr. Knight: (frustrated) “And it won’t be safe for anyone else if I stay, I know. I just... wanted to make a difference here.”

Bhutto: (solemnly) “You will, Barbara, I’ll get your research to the right people. Your work will save many lives one day, I promise. But today you have to save your own. Take a ship, slip away unnoticed.”

Mylu: “No, it can’t be unnoticed.”

Mylu sits up with a wince as Dr. Knight and Bhutto turn toward him. A newfound ferocity burns in his eyes.

Mylu: “When ONI comes back, they can’t think you let her go. Dr. Knight is coming with us, and you, Councillor Bhutto, will tell everyone we abducted her.”

Dr. Knight: (alarmed) “What?!”

Bhutto: (realization) “The kid’s right. The only way ONI will believe it is if the public believes it.”

Dr. Knight: “So you’re just going to lie to them?”

Bhutto: (sharply) “I will if it means sparing them from ONI’s cruelty. From things worse than what they put you through.”

Dr. Knight flinches, but she does not argue. Vaz appears out of the cockpit and hurriedly joins them, with Lensky following behind at a casual stroll.

Vaz: “Astor has calculated a Slipspace vector that even this paltry vessel can handle. Plokk says we must take off before nightfall, while we can still use the desert to mask our thermal profile.”

Lensky: “Then it’s time I see Councillor Bhutto back to Kropotkin City. Can’t have misfortune befall her now that we’re friends.”

Bhutto: (scowls) “We aren’t friends, and you could at least pretend to be bothered about losing your crew with your ship.”

Lensky: (smirks) “You’re the politician, dear Councillor, I could never pretend as naturally as you.”

Bhutto: (mutters) “Somehow I doubt that.”

Mylu slowly rises to his feet, and takes a few unsteady steps forward so that he is staring Lensky dead in the face.

Mylu: “You got us away from the RISC. But you are not an honourable man, Tobias Lensky.”

Lensky: (genially) “You knew that since the moment we met, kid. I’ve handed your payment to Plokk, don’t worry.”

Mylu: (wearily, contemptuously) “I don’t care about the payment. Vaz was right, I made a mistake working for you.”

Lensky: “Mistakes are just learning experiences, Mylu. You’ve got heart and you’ve got grit, more than I initially gave you credit for. Hone it or let the galaxy beat it into you – the choice is yours.”

Mylu huffs and turns his gaze from Lensky, glaring at the opposite wall instead. His hand tightens over the blood soaking through the bandages in his side.

◇◇◇


The Springhill-class transport cuts rapidly upward through Kropotkin’s atmosphere, pursued by a handful of fighters peppering its engines with gunfire. As the mining ship breaks the gravity well, a blockade of larger vessels move to intercept, turning about to direct their guns at the stolen vessel. They do not fire, however, as the smaller ships continue to target the engines.

A flash of light erupts from the Springhill’s nose, and in a heartbeat it vanishes into a Slipspace rift. The resulting flash of light winks out just as quickly into the darkness of space.

Inside the Springhill’s cockpit, Plokk slumps back against the pilot’s seat, hands shaking a little. Astor’s avatar, staring performatively at the main display screen, turns to face him.

Astor: “Excellent maneuvering, Plokk Laar. You fly human ships impressively well for a Kig-Yar.”

Plokk: (clicks beak) “I prefer the ones with guns on them. We need to get rid of this junker as soon as we can.”

Astor: “Perhaps I can be of assistance. I perused Lieutenant Kedar’s watchlist of potential threats, and my analysis indicates that the smaller factions generally lack proper means of reprisal if we steal their ship.”

Mylu is brought into the cockpit by Dr. Knight, who is holding him steady by the shoulder and forearm.

Dr. Knight: “What was that about stealing a ship? Do you boys do anything besides commit crimes?”

Plokk: (irritably) “Don’t start, lady. I need to feel normal again after all that communism.”

Vaz: “Plokk isn’t wrong. We were fortunate in that Kropotkin has no orbital defences and barely a functioning fleet, but it won’t always be that way.”

Vaz’s stare lingers on Mylu, his expression laden with guilt.

Vaz: “I thought you’d be safe on Lensky’s ship, Master Mylu. I wasn’t by your side when you needed me, and I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Mylu: (softly) “Vaz. The mistake was mine, I let my curiosity overrule my judgement. I must endeavour to be more careful from now on.”

Dr. Knight: “That’s what I like to hear. It’s probably for the best that you’re all wanted by the commune. Who knows how much worse you’d have defiled it if you’d been allowed to stay.”

Plokk: (offended) “We didn’t defile your stupid commune!”

Dr. Knight: “You stole their ship, circumvented their laws, supplanted a common smuggler with someone quantifiably worse, and strong-armed a reputable politician into lying to her people. What would you call it, if not defiling?”

Vaz: “It’s certainly regrettable, Dr. Knight, but we can’t take back what’s done. If the commune loses their way, then they are duty-bound to find it again. There is little else we can do to sway them.”

Mylu: “Have faith in them, doctor. The people must choose their own fate, just as you’ve chosen yours.”

Dr. Knight’s demeanour softens, the tension fading from her expression ever so slightly. Astor’s avatar pecks at the nonexistent ground with several sharp tapping noises, drawing everyone’s attention.

Astor: “I have narrowed our potential targets down to one candidate. A faction too small to chase us around the galaxy, but organized enough to have a handful of fully functioning, properly armed Covenant starships.”

Plokk: “Finally. I’ve had enough of flying human ships.”

Astor extends one wing to the display screen, where a row of Sangheili in mismatched armour stand upon a bloodied battlefield. At their centre is a dark-armoured warrior, bathed in the crimson glow radiating from the Energy Sword in his hand.

Dr. Knight: “That doesn’t look like someone we should be messing with.”

Astor: “Don’t worry, Dr. Knight. We won’t be picking a fight with the Sons of the Preserving Blade. Lieutenant Kedar has been tracking one of their solo operators, presumably in order to take her to Trevelyan. She’s currently quite far from the Preserving Blade’s core territory, which means she most likely has her own ship.”

Astor motions with his other wing, and a second image springs up of a lightly armoured Sangheili female. Her profile is slight, though she stands with the stature of a young adult.

Astor: “Everyone, meet Vena ‘Vadam.”



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