| This episode, Mylu and Vaz Fight Racism, was written by Sonasaurus and Voidlazarus. Please do not edit this fiction without the writers' permission. |
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| CY-43 // 224U:25CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 0815 HOURS // JUNE 27, 2554 」 Location: ON BOARD TRADE FREIGHTER FORTUNE’S FAVOR // ON APPROACH TO URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
Dazzling white sunlight gleams off of Urado’s icy rings from off in the distance. It saturates the viewport of the Fortune’s Favor, which trundles steadily toward the ocean-dominated planet at a reliable speed.
In the shipmaster’s chair sits a young adult Kig-Yar, Veckel, garbed in a weathered shipping flight suit. One of his hands rests on the tricorn-shaped helmet beside him, his slightly unkempt plumage an anxious yellow-green as it furls and unfurls. He swivels around as an Unggoy enters the flight cabin – Ebbab, the ship’s cook and doctor.
Ebbab: “Good news and bad news, Captain. Which you want first?”
Veckel: (grumbles) “Not like bad news. Why always bad news? How good is good news?”
Ebbab: “Ship not implode after Slipspace exit. Means storage bay not breached.”
Veckel puts his face in his hands.
Veckel: “Good news is obvious news. So what bad news?”
Ebbab: (scratches head) “Inventory recount same as first one. Ship rations almost empty, not counting reserve supplies.”
Wupwa, the Unggoy in the pilot’s chair, points at his copilot Smaw.
Wupwa: “Smaw sneak extra rations! Wupwa saw!”
Smaw: “Liar! Wupwa ate rations himself!”
Veckel springs out of his chair and screeches authoritatively, silencing the Unggoy.
Veckel: (irritably) “Enough. Veckel leave before big headache become bigger headache.”
Veckel trundles out of the flight cabin, massaging his temples. Ebbab follows closely.
Ebbab: “Where Captain going?”
Veckel: (wearily) “Check storage again. Something missed. Veckel find.”
As Veckel and Ebbab make their way into the lower levels of the Fortune’s Favor, they hear a muffled clatter from the galley. They pause, staring at one another before Veckel draws his Energy Cutlass while Ebbab unholsters his Plasma Pistol.
The single metal door slides open to reveal Vaz ‘Suman, pulling on the ankles of a half-visible Mylu ‘Zulmar, who has inexplicably jammed himself headfirst into the ship’s anti-gravity dumbwaiter.
Vaz: (straining) “Really, Master Mylu, you needed only ask me to grab whatever you were trying to–”
Vaz freezes upon spotting Veckel and Ebbab. He slowly lets go of Mylu.
Mylu: (muffled) “Vaz? Why have you stopped? Get me out of this at once!”
Veckel begins to laugh in perplexed disbelief, prompting Vaz to blink in surprise.
Veckel: “See, Veckel find problem. Now detain.”
Veckel barely takes a step before Vaz activates his Energy Sword and points it at the advancing Kig-Yar. Ebbab does not move.
Ebbab: (nervously) “Bad idea, Captain. Ship hull not reinforced.”
Veckel pauses, his eyes settling on the numerous tanks of methane lined along the far wall. Mylu, or what is visible of him, continues to kick and flail about.
Veckel: “This true. Ship land soon. Not fight now.”
Vaz: (bares mandibles) “A drawn blade demands blood.”
Veckel: “And Veckel demand Sangheili not destroy ship. Put away weapon and talk. Agree?”
Vaz cocks his head, looking slightly puzzled.
Vaz: (cautiously) “I’m not certain I could take a Kig-Yar at their word.”
Veckel places his free hand over his heart.
Veckel: “Veckel word good. Veckel not cheater.”
Two more Unggoy, Odob and Lepyap, wander into the galley.
Odob: “So that why food no come up. Sangheili stuck in tube.”
Lepyap: (snickers) “He look so stupid.”
Odob begins to giggle as well. Ebbab shoots them an irritated look.
Ebbab: “You think so funny, then you unclog Sangheili.”
The laughing stops. Grumbling, Odob picks up a battered plasma suction device from the corner and sets it down in front of the dumbwaiter, while Lepyap grabs a pair of energy-projected suction cups from a dispenser and attaches them to Mylu’s back and midsection. Odob activates the suction device, which slowly manages to drag Mylu out of the dumbwaiter by the middle.
Mylu: (muffled) “Ahh! Stop, before you rip me in half!”
Veckel: (mutters) “If only. Would solve half Veckel’s problems.”
Veckel sheathes his cutlass and grabs one of Mylu’s feet while Vaz takes the other. With their combined efforts, the suction device yanks Mylu free, pulling him from the dumbwaiter with enough force to send Vaz crashing into a cabinet while Veckel slides onto the counter above. Odob squeaks in alarm when Mylu lands backfirst onto the suction device, powering it off as it begins to siphon Mylu’s energy shields.
Mylu wipes the remains of a half-destroyed pastry off his helmet, blinking to clear his vision. He catches a few falling bits of dessert with his mandibles as he straightens.
Mylu: “This is kruikhna. And made to perfection too.”
Ebbab: (curious) “How you know kruikhna?”
Mylu: “My keep imports it from Shear. It doesn’t come cheap.”
Veckel clambers off the counter, his flight suit now also smudged and stained.
Veckel: “Great. Not just stowaway, but stowaway with expensive taste. Come. Sangheili talk.”
As Vaz picks himself off the ground, he and Mylu follow Veckel out of the galley with Ebbab bringing up the rear.
Ebbab: “Odob and Lepyap stay. Clean galley before landing.”
Odob and Lepyap’s protests are cut off by the door sliding shut behind them.
In the mess hall, Mylu and Vaz sit down across from Veckel. Scattered on the table between them are leftover rations, and as Mylu reaches for a morsel, Veckel smacks him lightly on the wrist. Mylu withdraws with a yelp. Vaz bares his mandibles at Veckel.
Veckel: (crossly) “Sangheili eat plenty already. Have two hearts or two stomachs?”
Mylu rubs his wrist reproachfully.
Mylu: “My appetite has grown substantially in the previous cycle. Mother says I’m finally entering puberty.”
Veckel scrutinizes Mylu and Vaz more closely.
Veckel: “So, stowaways are fledglings. Not female.”
Mylu: (indignantly) “I don’t look or sound female!”
Veckel: (shrugs) “Veckel not meet many Sangheili. Too tall and always rude. Stowaways also rude, but less threatening.”
Mylu opens his mouth again to retort, but this time Vaz interjects.
Vaz: (flatly) “He’s goading you. Trying to glean information by making you speak carelessly.”
Veckel’s gaze hovers on Vaz.
Veckel: “Silver one correct. Not impulsive like gold one, but more suspicious. Because Veckel is Kig-Yar?”
Vaz looks taken aback by Veckel’s forwardness.
Vaz: “I– did not say–”
Veckel: “Not have to say. Veckel know Sangheili mistrust Kig-Yar. Say Kig-Yar all thieves, no honour or courage.”
There is no accusation in Veckel’s tone, only resignation.
Mylu: (reflectively) “Mother always had a healthy respect for Kig-Yar. Of course, that isn’t to say she trusted them...”
Veckel: “Gold one mention mother before. Mother important?”
Mylu: “Yes, you could say she–”
Mylu catches himself as he realizes what Veckel is doing.
Veckel: “Not first time Veckel find stowaways. But first time from Iclannon. Fledglings sneak through expensive security. Veckel not understand at first.”
Mylu: (cautiously) “And what does Veckel understand now?”
Veckel: “Gold one say mother important. Hear silver one call gold one ‘Master Mylu’. House ‘Zulmar most powerful masters in Iclannon. Have access to spaceport. Mother of gold one is Lady Katin.”
Mylu and Vaz are rendered speechless for a moment.
Vaz: “You heard our names. Why did you pretend you hadn’t?”
Veckel: (smiles) “Hide advantage from adversary. Learn from human card game.”
Two Unggoy enter the mess hall, Thaff and Kipkip.
Kipkip: “Inertial compensators are on the verge of giving out, Captain. Best we replace them before leaving Urado.”
Veckel: (sighs) “Always must replace. Always spend more money.”
Kipkip: “You wouldn’t have to if you went with the ship I recommended. Buy nice or buy twice.”
Veckel: “Yes, Kipkip right. Veckel remember for next ship.”
Thaff, who is poring over an inventory list, peers up from his datapad.
Thaff: “We need to flush the methane supply as well, boss. Something got mixed into the last batch that was making us loopy.”
Veckel: (resigned) “Okay. Thaff order rations. Not enough for return flight to Shear.”
Guilt enters Vaz’s expression. Veckel does not take notice as he gets up to leave.
Veckel: “Veckel oversee landing now. Sangheili behave.”
Veckel hurries out of the mess hall with Thaff and Kipkip. Mylu and Vaz look at one another.
Mylu: “Veckel, huh? Not exactly verbose, is he?”
Vaz: (tersely) “I understood him well enough, Master Mylu. And speaking candidly, you don’t seem very perturbed about being discovered.”
Mylu: “We’re safe for now. They have yet to flush us out an airlock, at the very least.”
Vaz: “That is out of self-preservation, not concern for our well-being. Our situation will almost certainly change once this freighter lands.”
Mylu: “Fret not. I am certain we can work something out with Veckel.”
Vaz: (distractedly) “Yes. That would be best.”
Mylu reaches for some food again, and this time Vaz slaps him on the wrist.
Mylu: “Ow! (annoyed) Vaz!”
Vaz: (briskly) “Be a good guest, Master Mylu. Mistress Katin taught you not to disobey your host.”
Smaw’s voice is heard from the broadcast emitters overhead.
Smaw: (PA) “Everyone prepare for re-entry. Entering gravity well in three centals.”
Mylu and Vaz bound to their feet, eyes darting about.
Mylu: “I don’t see anywhere to secure ourselves, do you?”
Vaz: “No. Run.”
Mylu and Vaz sprint frantically down the freighter’s confined corridor, looking every which way but seeing nowhere suitable for re-entry. They make a break for the flight cabin at the far end of the corridor and burst in with wild abandon, causing Wupwa and Smaw to give startled yelps. Veckel flinches at the noise, although his surprise quickly gives way to annoyance.
Veckel: “Sangheili sit down, before clumsy bodies smash everything.”
Veckel points to a row of unoccupied seats along the wall, equipped with gravity locks. Mylu notices then that Vaz’s feet are leaving the floor.
Mylu: “Vaz, you're floating...”
Mylu peers down and sees that the same thing is happening to him.
Mylu: “Err... I’m floating!”
Vaz taps his combat harness with one finger, directly above his upper heart. His thrusters give a short burst and launches him at Mylu, allowing Vaz to grab him and throw him toward the seats. Vaz quickly works to correct his own trajectory as his movements send him in the opposite direction. A deep roar begins to build outside the Fortune’s Favor as it enters Urado’s gravity well in earnest; beyond the viewport, the planet’s sunny morning skyline is growing steadily larger in prominence.
Mylu tries to grab the nearest chair as he whizzes past but fumbles, and he rolls along the wall toward the pilots. Vaz attempts to intercept him, but Veckel disengages the gravity locks on his own chair and raises a UNSC-issue grapple gun.
Veckel: “Gold one hold still.”
Veckel fires the grapple at Mylu, and hisses in frustration as the prongs are deflected by Mylu’s energy shields. Mylu fumbles to grab the line as it coils around him while Vaz holds it by the middle to pull it taut. The motion sends Mylu swinging around in a sideways arc before he collides with Veckel and pins him against the wall.
The freighter lurches to an abrupt stop as it links with the docking beam below. Vaz is jerked forward by the grapple line and flies into Mylu, prompting a squawk of dismay from Veckel, who is still squished between Mylu and the wall. The three of them tumble to the floor as the flight cabin settles at last, the freighter now gently lowering toward the surface.
Wupwa: (peers over shoulder) “Docking beam linked. Captain still alive?”
Veckel does not get up as he, Mylu, and Vaz gasp for breath on the floor.
Veckel: (pained) “Worst cargo ever find.”
| CY-43 // 224U:89CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 0853 HOURS // JUNE 27, 2554 」 Location: ON BOARD TRADE FREIGHTER FORTUNE’S FAVOR, LANDING PAD 71, SABARANN SPACEPORT // PLANET URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
The docking beam unlinks from the Fortune’s Favor as it is eased to ground level, allowing the freighter to open its hatches. Veckel deploys the hard light boarding ramp and makes his way down its incline, followed by Mylu and Vaz. Mylu tastes the air, taking in the outdoor spaceport with fascination while Vaz reviews the digital brochure uploaded to his helmet.
Vaz: “We’re in Sabarann, state capital of Hidal. Population twenty-six million Sangheili, forty million total. Seasonal temperature here is seventeen to twenty-nine units.”
Mylu: “The air is rather humid. But warmer than mornings outside the keep.”
Vaz: “We lived atop a canyon, Master Mylu. A very dry canyon next to a desert.”
Veckel is consulting his handheld datapad as he walks them toward the crew, who are unloading the cargo at the stern of the freighter.
Veckel: “Veckel contact supplier. Sangheili put muscles to work. Help crew move freight.”
Mylu: (affronted) “Work? I do not wo—”
Vaz: “We would be honoured.”
Mylu makes a startled noise as Vaz firmly steers him toward the Unggoy.
Mylu: (hisses) “Vaz, what has gotten into you?”
Vaz: “We are fugitives now, Master Mylu. There is much you must grow accustomed to doing, including work.”
Inside the cargo bay, Veckel’s crew is hauling the containers with the help of several other Unggoy clad in uniforms bearing the spaceport’s logo. Thaff is bickering with a customs officer, an indifferent-looking female Sangheili.
Thaff: “You can’t be serious. This shipment is identical to the last one we hauled, and several shipments before that.”
Customs officer: “New policy. Nothing is to be brought inside until it’s all inspected.”
Kipkip peers around the open spaceport at the surrounding ships and their crew, made up entirely of Unggoy and Kig-Yar.
Kipkip: “I don’t see any Sangheili spacers out here. You don’t make them leave their cargo outside, do you?”
Customs officer: (coolly) “I assure you, that has nothing to do with it. The laws granting exemption to my kin were written long before the recent–”
Kipkip: “Good, because those two are with us. And I’m guessing they’d like to know what the holdup is.”
Kipkip jerks his head at the approaching Mylu and Vaz. Mylu quickly plasters a scowl onto his face as the customs officer turns around. Vaz stands silently next to him, glaring into the side of her head.
Mylu: “Indeed I am. It hardly befits my state’s reputation for our goods to be treated with such suspicion.”
Customs officer: “I see. And you are?”
Mylu crosses his arms, annoyed.
Mylu: (haughtily) “I can’t imagine you doing anything useful with that information, so why don’t you go find someone who will? I would have words with them.”
The customs officer gives Mylu a withering look, but he returns the stare unflinchingly. She turns away and strides back toward her hovercart.
Customs officer: (stiffly) “Remain here. We are experiencing delays due to protestors attempting to breach the gates, so do not attempt to leave the spaceport unattended.”
The customs officer steps into her hovercart and glides off, leaving the crew to continue loading up the trolleys. Kipkip glances at Mylu.
Kipkip: “Not bad, kid. Not sure if you just made our problem better or worse, but that was satisfying to watch either way.”
Thaff: (disgruntled) “I’m glad you’re entertained, now we gotta haul the methane off the ship. If we have to be stuck waiting around, then we should spend the time productively.”
Thaff returns his attention to overseeing the unloading process, while Kipkip leads Mylu and Vaz to the storage slots in the floor and pulls back the cover, revealing an array of reinforced glass cylinders swirling with chilled methane gas. He lifts one end of a cylinder by its metal frame, while Ebbab hastens to take the other end. Mylu and Vaz take one tube each and follow the Unggoy out of the cargo bay.
Vaz: “The customs officer mentioned protestors. What do you know of this?”
Kipkip: “Only murmurs from stops we’ve made recently. It’s been a few cycles since we’ve taken a trip to Urado.”
Ebbab: (darkly) “All say same thing. Sangheili welcome no one after Covenant schism.”
Mylu catches a disconcerted look that crosses Vaz’s expression as they approach a station lined with nozzles, painted the same colour as the frames on the cylinders.
Mylu: “And that’s why we have been confined to this landing pad?”
Kipkip: (briskly) “Yep. Now any Unggoy or Kig-Yar who sets foot on Urado is suspect, as if we killed their fathers and sons – or spilled more Sangheili blood during the schism than the other way around.”
Vaz winces. Kipkip and Ebbab carefully link the bottom frame of their cylinder onto one of the nozzles, which begins extracting the tainted gas with a muted hiss. Mylu and Vaz attach their cylinders to the adjacent nozzles as well before following the Unggoy back toward the Fortune’s Favor.
A pair of hovercarts pull up to the landing pad, each carrying four Sangheili in security uniforms. Mylu reaffirms his scowl and walks toward them as they disembark.
Mylu: “I didn’t send for you, I sent for someone above your—”
The nearest guard suddenly pulls Mylu off the landing pad. Vaz roars in outrage and moves to help Mylu when another guard grabs him by the wrists. Alarmed, the Unggoy crew reach for their weapons, but do not react in time as the other six Sangheili light up plasma grenades and hurl them into the freighter’s cargo bay. The glowing orbs land directly onto the methane cylinders.
The crew scrambles to get clear as a flash of blue-white light envelops the cargo bay, and the ensuing string of explosions spray hissing gas and globules of molten metal in all directions.
Mylu: (outraged) “What do you think you’re doing? Stop this madness!”
As Mylu tries to wrest himself free to no avail, the Fortune’s Favor tips onto one side to reveal a fire spreading beneath the floor of the cargo bay. The Unggoy rush to contain the flames, with Kipkip grabbing whatever extinguishers are still intact. Amidst the ensuing tremors, Vaz pushes over the guard holding him, freeing his blade hand and closing his fingers around his Energy Sword. The twin blades ignite mid-swing, slicing the guard across the throat.
Without missing a beat, Vaz whirls on the guard holding Mylu and stabs him through both hearts with a single strike. The remaining guards take notice and turn their attention away from the burning freighter. Quickly checking that Mylu is unharmed, Vaz raises his Energy Sword at the Sangheili, mandibles bared.
A whirring sound is heard from the top of the boarding ramp, followed by a metallic click. The plumes of smoke blanketing the Fortune’s Favor subside to reveal Veckel standing behind a M247H Machine Gun Turret, his plumage flushed a raging dark purple. Vaz instinctively tackles Mylu to the ground, bracing against the hovercarts for cover.
The sound of flying projectiles fills the air as Veckel opens fire on the guards, screaming profanities in Ruuhtian. Vaz holds Mylu’s head lower as stray bullets ricochet against the hovercart between them and the freighter. Within moments the vehicles fall to the ground with groaning whines as their antigravity generators are shredded.
Two of the guards run past Mylu and Vaz but are quickly mowed down in a spray of gunfire and violet mist. Mylu gags a little as the turret winds down amidst the tinkling of spent shell casings against the landing pad. Vaz motions for Mylu to stay down before peeking over the rim of the hovercart. He takes in the sight of dead guards scattered in every direction, blood pooling beneath their bullet-riddled corpses.
Veckel is still gripping the turret with both hands, heaving furiously for breath. Vaz waves at him to get his attention, and hastily ducks as the turret swivels toward him.
Vaz: “Hold your fire, Veckel!”
Veckel’s eyes widen in panic and realization.
Veckel: “Fire! Ship still on fire!”
Grabbing a breathing mask and an oxygen vacuum, Veckel hastily leaps off the boarding ramp toward the cargo bay. The Unggoy are still there, trying to stop the flames from spreading to the rest of the freighter.
A single sharp siren blasts through the air. The protective seals in Mylu and Vaz’s helmets expand over the sides of their heads, while Veckel and the Unggoy drop whatever they are holding and cover their ears. Within moments the landing pad is surrounded by four Ghosts while an Umbra pulls up in front of the Fortune’s Favor.
Six fire containment drones swoop down from overhead, zipping past the crew and into the cargo bay. Ten Sangheili step out from the Umbra’s open carrier pod, bearing the same uniforms and insignia as the previous group. They level their Plasma Repeaters at Veckel and the Unggoy.
Security guard: “All of you in the vehicle, now.”
Veckel: (indignantly) “Veckel not start this!”
Security guard: “Do not make this worse for yourselves.”
Mylu: “He speaks the truth!”
The other Sangheili turn to look at Mylu and Vaz as the crew boards the Umbra one by one.
Security guard: “Are you with them?”
Mylu: “Obviously.”
Security guard: “Then you will board the vehicle as well.”
Mylu scoffs as he strides toward the Umbra with Vaz.
Mylu: “Good. I expect an explanation from your boss – and proper reimbursement for reducing Zulmar’s finest goods to a flaming shambles.”
Mylu: (indignantly) “What do you mean you won’t reimburse us?!!”
Sitting upon a raised chair across from Mylu, the spaceport manager glances up from the report scrawled on the digital surface of her desk.
Manager: “I mean those were not security guards who destroyed your cargo. They were protestors wearing stolen uniforms.”
Mylu: “So it was your ineptitude that caused all this. I’ll be sure to include that in my report.”
Manager: “Report as you see fit, Master Mylu. But with our funding significantly reduced following the collapse of the Covenant Empire, this spaceport is simply too understaffed for our security to be everywhere they need to be.”
From where he stands behind Mylu’s left, Veckel snorts disdainfully.
Veckel: “Would have enough staff if spaceport hire Kig-Yar, or Unggoy.”
The manager taps the holographic terminal on her desk, and a document flickers into visibility for them to see.
Manager: “This waiver bears your signature, Captain Veckel, timestamped fifty-nine centals ago. It states in no uncertain terms that your cargo’s safety is the responsibility of you and your crew, with Sabarann Spaceport Security providing what assistance they can. Our footage shows that the guards rushed for your landing pad the moment they were alerted to the attack, and as such they have committed no violation or negligence of duty.”
Vaz, standing behind Mylu’s right shoulder, seethes.
Vaz: (bares teeth) “You clear Sangheili spacers without delay and leave everyone else to fend for themselves, knowing the protestors are targeting them. Then you hide behind the law to protect yourselves.”
Manager: (coolly) “The law protects you as well, warrior. You and Captain Veckel killed eight citizens on the landing pad, but unless further evidence comes to light, neither of you have legally committed a crime. Still, the court of public opinion will almost certainly be less favourable, so I advise you to keep your visit to Urado brief and taciturn.”
The manager presses another button on the terminal. The office door slides open behind them.
Manager: “You may leave.”
Mylu stands up. Veckel turns to go, but Mylu does not do the same. The manager tilts her head slightly.
Manager: “Unless there’s... another matter you wish to discuss?”
Mylu: “Not with you. I demand to speak with your head of state.”
Manager: “He is far too busy to meet with the likes of–”
Mylu: “House ‘Zulmar? Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?”
Manager: “I am aware of your House’s prestige, Master Mylu, but we cannot bestow favouritism based on affluence. The kaidon has very firm policies against that sort of nonsense.”
Mylu: (growls) “Then I’m sure he will be equally unwavering about any trade sanctions we might bestow upon him in the future.”
Mylu turns and stomps out of the office, with Vaz and Veckel falling into step after him. They reach a lift platform at the end of the corridor down to the main floor, where the Unggoy are waiting in the lobby.
Thaff: “How’d it go, Captain?”
Veckel: (shakes head) “Bad. Spaceport not claim responsibility.”
Ebbab: (disgruntled) “Typical. What now?”
Veckel: (resigned) “Now fix ship. And now Veckel go obtain three million gekz.”
Kipkip: “We’ll have the ship spaceworthy, boss. You just focus on getting the money.”
Veckel places a hand on Kipkip’s shoulder.
Veckel: “Keep sharp eyes. Protestors dangerous for us.”
Kipkip pats Veckel’s hand reassuringly before joining Thaff in leading the Unggoy back toward the Umbra. Veckel heads down into the underground pickup area with Mylu and Vaz.
The three of them step out onto the side of the street, where other passengers are hailing taxis with the terminals placed by the hoverlanes. Veckel uses one to call a cab, and almost immediately an automated hovercraft pulls up alongside him.
Veckel hops over to the vehicle’s controls and enters a destination while Mylu and Vaz take their seats across from him. The vehicle’s gravity locks engage, securing the three of them by the shoulders and feet as the taxi whizzes into the tunnels leading away from the spaceport.
Mylu: “I hardly speak from experience, but three million gekz seems like a lot for a spacer to get his hands on.”
Veckel: (glumly) “More than entire crew earn in one hundred cycles. Must cover expenses and have tribute before Veckel return to Shear.”
Vaz: “Tribute? To whom?”
Veckel hesitates for a moment.
Veckel: “Siv Tej.”
Mylu: (tilts head) “Baroness Siv Tej? I thought you were legitimate, Veckel.”
Veckel: (insistently) “Veckel legitimate, but have corsair family. Mother and sisters serve her before Veckel born.”
Vaz: “Who is Baroness Siv Tej?”
Mylu: “Officially, one of the most generous and respected matriarchs on Shear. Unofficially...”
Veckel: “Crime boss. Had secret dealings with High Prophet of Truth. Gaining more power after Covenant collapse.”
Mylu: “Mother mentioned her once, and I got curious enough to read up on her. She isn’t someone to be crossed.”
Veckel: (nods affirmatively) “Crew must fix ship quickly. Siv Tej expect larger tribute if Veckel late.”
Mylu: “And how do you intend to acquire three million gekz by the end of the cycle? Pay it out of the savings of you and your crew?”
Veckel: (shakes head) “Crew have big families to feed. This not their problem.”
Mylu: (pointedly) “It will be if Siv Tej decides to make an example out of you.”
Veckel: (fretfully) “Veckel will figure out. Veckel always figure out.”
The taxi speeds out of the tunnel and into a long bridge stretching over a glittering ocean beneath the cheerful sunny morning. Sabarann’s metropolitan skyline looms on the far end of the bridge, flocking with tiny specks denoting aircraft and drones weaving around the city’s sprawling array of skyscrapers.
Mylu: “It’s so... busy. The cities in Zulmar look nothing like this.”
Veckel: “Mylu prefer underground city?”
Mylu: (shudders) “Certainly not. The underground districts are for only the lowest-class citizens. No, this makes a much more pleasant view.”
The taxi soon reaches the coastal mainland on the other side of the bridge. Mylu is captivated by the sight of Sabarann’s historical trade ports, the antiquated design of coloured fabrics and treated wood contrasting against an urban backdrop of metal and glass.
The taxi pulls into a gravity beam, which transfers them off the bridge and onto a road running along the port district. The street and waterside are bustling with elderly Sangheili traders and fishermen, interspersed with Unggoy runners squeezing in and out of the markets wherever they can find space.
Vaz: (quietly) “I don’t see any Kig-Yar here.”
Veckel: “Only two million in Sabarann. Unggoy breed faster than Kig-Yar.”
As the taxi veers onto an adjacent street leading away from the coast, a gas bus whirs past in the opposite direction, its outward-facing passenger deck packed with Unggoy. Their breathing apparatuses are docked to their seats, allowing the bus to refill their methane tanks as it takes them to their destination.
The crowds and the hubbub of the port district soon fades into the city ambience as the markets gradually give way to residential units, a network of pod-shaped towers with gas tanks affixed on top. A maintenance aerotruck flies over the buildings, stopping over each gas tank to allow a pair of Unggoy to disembark onto the rooftop. One of them inspects the machinery while the other begins refilling the tanks.
The taxi turns onto a quiet street, lined with unglamorous but comfortably spacious singular houses. Nearly all the residents on the street are Sangheili wearing plain tunics and various commoner attire. A few of them shoot sidelong glances at Veckel as the cab speeds down the street, but he appears unfazed and ignores them entirely.
Mylu: “So what are we doing here?”
Veckel: “Veckel have family in Sabarann. Maybe they help.”
Vaz: (quietly) “Why would your family want to live among Sangheili?”
Veckel: (reflectively) “Aunt Phragga say lead by example. Many Kig-Yar want good relationship with Sangheili. But will take time.”
Mylu: “Mother told me about Kig-Yar factions who have been reaching out to humans. Mostly business-related.”
Veckel: (nods) “Humans understand money. Some more comfortable around Kig-Yar than Sangheili. And humans less aggressive than Sangheili... mostly.”
Vaz: “I’m afraid you’re right. Look.”
Vaz points over Veckel’s shoulder. As the taxi slows and pulls up next to one of the houses, Mylu sees a pair of Sangheili, a male and a female, arguing with a middle-aged Kig-Yar couple outside the front door - Phragga and Ty’yk. Veckel immediately hops out of the taxi and bounds fretfully toward them.
Phragga: “I’m not asking nicely anymore. Get off my property.”
Female neighbour: “Then get off our planet, Kig-Yar. Your kind are no longer welcome here.”
Ty’yk: (firmly) “We live here since before war. We not go anywhere.”
Male neighbour: (mockingly) “You not talk so good either. Never learned the language properly, did you?”
Phragga: (sharply) “The Covenant didn’t make a point of teaching him during his service, something you would know full well had you fought in the war yourself.”
The Sangheili’s mandibles tighten. As Veckel rushes toward them, the male Sangheili deals him a hard backhand. Vaz, who is also approaching with Mylu, breaks into a sprint.
Vaz: “Stop!”
Male neighbour: (scowls) “This does not concern you, fledgling—”
Vaz slides between Veckel and his assailant, and deals the neighbour two swift punches to the underside of his ribs, sending him reeling. The female Sangheili grabs a dazed Veckel by the throat and lifts him off the ground, and a moment later Phragga leaps onto her back.
Phragga: (angrily) “Let go of my nephew, hingehead!”
The neighbour thrashes about, trying to throw Phragga off to no avail. Phragga bites down on the back of her neck, causing the Sangheili to rear back with a roar. The male Sangheili makes a grab for Phragga, but Ty’yk bodies him in the midsection, sending him straight toward Vaz who decks him with a roundhouse punch. As the larger Sangheili tries to get up, Mylu runs up and kicks him in the face.
The female Sangheili finally releases Veckel, and likewise Phragga relinquishes her bite, hurrying to Veckel’s side while the neighbour does the same with her companion. The two Sangheili beat a hasty retreat down the street and back into their house.
Phragga helps Veckel to his feet, peering at him in concern while brushing the dirt off his flight suit.
Phragga: “Are you hurt, Veckel?”
Veckel massages his throat but shakes his head.
Veckel: “Not hurt, Aunt Phragga. What Sangheili want?”
Phragga: (snorts disdainfully) “They wanted an easy target, that’s what. There’s been talk about evicting us from the state, an idea that has grown popular on Urado lately. It’s emboldening all sorts of unseemly behaviour from the Sangheili. But let’s not discuss such things out here. Come inside.”
Veckel stops in the doorway and looks back to Mylu and Vaz, who have not moved. Phragga takes notice and beckons to them.
Phragga: “The invitation extends to you both. Anyone who looks out for Veckel has a place in my nest.”
Vaz: (stiffly) “That’s very kind of you, madam, but we've imposed enough as it is. We’re only looking to help Veckel with his trouble and we’ll be on our way.”
Ty’yk: “Trouble? Why you always find trouble, Veckel?”
Veckel: “Trouble always find Veckel. Protestors sneak into spaceport, destroy cargo, damage ship.”
Phragga gives a rattling sigh of resignation.
Phragga: “Then you should accept whatever help these boys are offering. Not many Sangheili on Urado would do the same.”
Mylu and Vaz slowly follow Veckel into the house. The front door slides shut behind them, and Phragga and Ty’yk lead them down a hallway covered with an exotic display of plants and shrubs growing out from the walls. A fine mist sprays gently down from various dispensers in the ceiling, beading onto the natural canopy and filling the air with moisture. Mylu peers around, nostrils twitching slightly.
Mylu: “So why do you insist on staying here? Wouldn’t you rather be around people who won’t threaten you?”
Phragga: “And where would you imagine such a place exists?”
Mylu: (falteringly) “Eayn, surely.”
Phragga’s beak forms a shrewd smile.
Phragga: “It’s not exactly the same way Sanghelios is for you, fledgling. Eayn’s a harsh planet to grow old on, as are its surrounding habitats. And Ty’yk’s only comfortable where the gravity is Sangheili-friendly.”
Veckel: “Uncle Ty’yk was Covenant soldier. Not enjoy low gravity worlds anymore.”
Ty’yk: (grumbles) “Felt like floating into space. Spent too much time on capital ships during war.”
Phragga: “And more to the point, his bones and muscles would atrophy since he doesn’t like to get up and move around.”
Ty’yk: “Moved around enough for three lifetimes. Tired of moving around.”
Phragga shoots him a grin before turning her attention back to Veckel. She eyes his worn and dirty flight suit up and down.
Phragga: “You’d better put on something less conspicuous while you’re here. Ty’yk has plenty of clothing he never wears, they should be able to fit you.”
Veckel dips his head in affirmation and hurries down the hallway. Phragga leads Mylu and Vaz through an adjacent doorway into the kitchen. She taps a panel next to the two-person table, prompting it to expand out of the wall along with two additional chairs rising up out of the floor.
Ty’yk sets an insulated kettle under a dispenser, which begins filling it with boiling water. He tips some riaka leaves into an old-fashioned teapot before bringing both it and the kettle over to the table, then saunters out of the kitchen.
Phragga takes a seat and gestures for Mylu and Vaz to join her. She observes them as they sit down wordlessly, then adds some water into the teapot. The inside begins to glow a dim blue as the hot water mixes with the riaka leaves inside, and Phragga waits a moment before filling three teacups with bioluminescent tea.
Phragga: “Well, you boys already know my name. What do I call you?”
Mylu: “Mylu ‘Zulmar, madam.”
Vaz: “Vaz ‘Suman, madam.”
Phragga waves dismissively as she offers Mylu and Vaz a teacup each. They accept with slight bows of the head.
Phragga: “Call me Phragga. I already have enough reminders of my corsair days. So, Mylu and Vaz, how is it you know my nephew?”
Vaz: (bashfully) “We... snuck onto his ship as it was about to leave Sanghelios. He discovered us in the galley shortly before landing.”
Phragga: “I appreciate your honesty, though I wouldn’t make a habit of being this candid with every stranger you meet. May I ask why you made such a drastic decision?”
Vaz hesitates. Mylu, however, responds after taking a sip of tea.
Mylu: “Political dispute.”
Phragga: (shrewdly) “Ah. Say no more, young master, the less I know the better.”
Mylu: “I’m glad we understand each other.”
Phragga: “Do we? I’ve seen enough of the galaxy to think nothing can still surprise me, but I have to admit this is a first. Stowaways are one thing, but stowaways standing against their fellow Sangheili to protect a Kig-Yar? Not even most of my kin would have done the same in your place.”
Vaz: “Honour is a Sangheili’s most foundational tenet, ma— Phragga.”
Phragga: “So I’ve heard all my life. And despite my considerable age, you are the first Sangheili to deem me worthy of your honour.”
Despite Phragga’s appreciative tone, Vaz looks deeply disquieted and says nothing. She turns to look at Mylu.
Phragga: “And what about you, Mylu? You don’t strike me as the hands-on type.”
Mylu: “My mother taught me that bigotry is the enemy of progress. She says it attracts only the fearful and those seeking to exploit their fears.”
Phragga: “Very pragmatic. As lucky as you are that Veckel’s one of the good ones, he is equally fortunate that it was the two of you he scooped up.”
The door slides open, and Veckel steps into the kitchen. He is garbed in a faded grey tunic, its weave moisture-sensitive like Phragga’s. She pours another cup of tea and slides it toward him, and he catches the cup in his palm as he takes a seat next to her.
Phragga: “When is the Baroness expecting your tribute, Veckel?”
Veckel glances at the holographic time display on the wall.
Veckel: “Ninety units.”
Phragga: (vexed) “You’re already late, even if that flying death trap you call a ship was ready to leave right now. Which is why you came to me.”
Veckel: (sheepishly) “Veckel should be better nephew. Veckel not visit Aunt Phragga enough.”
Phragga clicks her beak chidingly.
Phragga: “Shut your beak, you sappy chick. I was your age once, I didn’t want to be tied down back then either. Wait here.”
Phragga gets up and hurries out of the kitchen, leaving Veckel with Mylu and Vaz as the door closes again.
Veckel: “Old contact in Sabarann take call from Veckel. Meet at warehouse district in two units.”
Mylu: “Meet to do what?”
Veckel: “Veckel good gambler. Make back money, fix ship, return to Shear to pay tribute. Mylu and Vaz help?”
Vaz: “Of course, Veckel. Anything you need.”
Mylu: (gets up) “Vaz. A word?”
Vaz stands as well and follows him out of the kitchen. The door slides shut as they step into the hallway.
Mylu: “Have you forgotten that we’re being hunted? We’ve only arrived and already we’re drawing a lot of attention.”
Vaz: “We were part of the problem, Master Mylu. And we have the capacity to fix it.”
Mylu: “We set him back a little by eating his food, yes. But we didn’t blow up his cargo or his freighter. Surely someone else on this planet can help.”
Vaz: (astutely) “A great leader does not wait for someone else to act. Do you not still aspire to be kaidon one day?”
Mylu: (crossly) “I suppose there’s no arguing that I do. (exhales) Very well, but I’m not going to a gambling den. I’ll do some research and devise a way to leverage the situation in our favour.”
Phragga reappears in the hallway, holding a credit chip. Mylu and Vaz head back into the kitchen with her, where Veckel is still sitting.
Mylu: “We’ve come to a decision.”
Veckel: “Veckel aware. Heard every word behind door.”
Phragga laughs at Mylu and Vaz’s startled reactions.
Phragga: “We have better hearing than you, something you’d best keep in mind when you’re dealing with Kig-Yar. We also like to eavesdrop.”
Phragga hands Veckel the credit chip. He looks at it uncertainly.
Phragga: “It’s not much, but it should be enough for you to get started. Don’t do anything with it that I wouldn’t.”
Veckel reads the balance displayed on the chip and looks aghast.
Veckel: “Fifty-thousand gekz? Aunt Phragga take from retirement savings?”
Phragga: (austerely) “Don’t do me the discourtesy of refusing, Veckel. Consider it an investment toward making sure Siv Tej doesn’t skin you alive.”
Veckel reluctantly stows the chip. He gently takes Phragga’s face with both hands and touches his forehead against hers.
Veckel: “Veckel return money soon. Make Aunt Phragga proud.”
Phragga: (smiles fondly) “You already have, nephew. Now go, you still have a lot of work to do.”
| CY-43 // 230U:52CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1431 HOURS // JUNE 27, 2554 」 Location: CITY OF SABARANN WAREHOUSE DISTRICT, STATE OF HIDAL // PLANET URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
Vaz stands in an alley with Veckel between two warehouse units, keeping an eye on the quiet street nearby. Veckel is speaking with Thaff with a handheld comms unit.
Thaff: (COM) “We’re making good progress on the repairs, Captain. But the protestors are demanding answers about the Sangheili killed on our landing pad.”
Veckel: (hisses in frustration) “Protestors blame Veckel?”
Thaff: (COM) “The spaceport hasn’t given up any details yet, but it’s only a matter of time before they cave. Any luck on your end?”
Veckel: “Hope so. Tell crew be careful, Thaff. Lives more important than ship.”
Thaff: (COM) “I hear you. Take care, boss.”
As Veckel ends the call and puts the comms device away, he catches Vaz’s scrutinizing stare.
Veckel: “Vaz want to say something?”
Vaz: “No, I’m just... (shakes head) You really care about them. More than I initially presumed.”
Veckel: “Presume. Common Sangheili habit. Not common like pride, but close.”
Vaz: “True enough. Perhaps I’ll never get used to seeing kindness in others.”
Veckel: (knowingly) “Vaz see kindness, know kindness. But never for Vaz, always for others.”
Vaz: (quietly) “Except Master Mylu. He could’ve treated me like a servant the way everyone else did – I would not have minded – but he saw me as a friend above all else.”
Veckel: “Vaz understand loyalty. But why help Veckel? Mylu not want attention, and Vaz not want Mylu in danger.”
Vaz hesitates.
Vaz: (tersely) “It is the right thing to do.”
Veckel: “Veckel believe Vaz. But Veckel also know Vaz not trust Kig-Yar. Vaz have same look as many Sangheili Veckel meet. Same tightness in shoulders.”
Vaz blinks, taken aback.
Vaz: “I admit I am more guarded following a recent incident on Sanghelios. A group of Kig-Yar came very close to assassinating Master Mylu the night we left.”
Veckel: “Vaz only fight Kig-Yar on Sanghelios?”
Vaz: (exhales) “No, there were Sangheili as well. (perturbed) I... was not aware I had reservations about Kig-Yar at all.”
Veckel: “But Vaz still try to be honourable. Vaz value honour, like true Sangheili should.”
Vaz looks heartened by Veckel’s words. He stands a little taller, the tension now easing from his posture.
Vaz: (quietly) “Thank you, Veckel.”
Veckel gives Vaz an encouraging pat on the shoulder. They are joined by a T’vaoan, Plokk, who deftly whisks himself away from the open street before halting upon catching sight of Vaz.
Plokk: “Mother of matrons, Veckel, how’d you procure a Sangheili for a bodyguard?”
Veckel: (shrugs) “Veckel always lucky.”
Plokk: “Not lucky enough to save your cargo, I hear. Did you really mow down eight Sangheili on the landing pad?”
Veckel: “Six. Vaz kill two with sword.”
Veckel indicates Vaz, who is observing Plokk silently. Plokk gives him a deep flourishing bow before straightening.
Plokk: “Plokk Laar at your service, milord. I appreciate you not turning on my kin like... well, the rest of your kin.”
Vaz: (flatly) “Vaz ‘Suman. I am no lord, only a protector.”
Plokk: “Good, because the flock we’re playing against doesn’t like losing. They may need some firm discouragement if things get heated.”
Vaz and Veckel head into the alleyways after Plokk, who opens a hatch in the floor at the base of a warehouse. They step in one at a time, with Vaz closing the hatch behind them.
| CY-43 // 231U:47CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1528 HOURS // JUNE 27, 2554 」 Location: CITY OF SABARANN RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT, STATE OF HIDAL // PLANET URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
Mylu is seated cross-legged on the lounge floor, encircled by holographic articles and documents projected out of his combat harness’ modular holoreader. Ty’yk is reclining in his gravity chair on the other end of the room, rubbing his eyes at the digital clutter orbiting Mylu.
Ty’yk: “I get headache when I look. How Mylu keep track of that?”
Mylu swipes a holosheet to one side, causing the array to spin around him in response. He halts the motion with his other hand and intently reads the document in front of him.
Mylu: “Photographic memory. Apparently it’s not unique to Sangheili, some humans have it too. Fascinating.”
Ty’yk: “Why that fascinating?”
Mylu: “Not that, this.”
Mylu pinches the document with both his right thumbs and spins it around to face Ty’yk, who leans forward.
Ty’yk: (squints) “Not reading all that. Explain in simple terms.”
Before Mylu can elaborate, a chime sounds from the device on Ty’yk’s wrist. He glances at it as Phragga’s footsteps are heard out in the corridor.
Ty’yk: “Someone at door. Phragga answer.”
Phragga is heard opening the door. Mylu switches off his holoreader and rises before striding into the hallway. He sees two Sangheili in Sovereign Guard uniforms standing outside.
Phragga: (coolly) “The Sovereign Guard, at my front door? I don’t believe I have any business with the kaidon.”
Guard 1: “Kaidon ‘Hidal inquires about a trade representative who arrived from Sanghelios today.”
Mylu hastens forward to stand at Phragga’s shoulder.
Mylu: “That would be me.”
The guards look Mylu up and down.
Guard 2: “Come, he is expecting you.”
Mylu: (falteringly) “I... my bodyguard has left on an errand. I should wait for him to return.”
Guard 1: (impatiently) “Kaidon ‘Hidal is not someone you keep waiting, fledgling. Quickly now.”
Phragga: “I’ll come with you, Mylu.”
The guards bristle at this, but they say nothing. Phragga pokes her head into the lounge.
Phragga: “If Veckel returns with Vaz before we do, tell them we’ll be back soon.”
Ty’yk is heard clicking his beak affirmatively. Phragga strides outside with Mylu, and they follow the guards to the Iqnucekk-pattern transport occupying three hoverlanes. Once Mylu and Phragga are securely locked into their seats, the aircraft lifts off the street and into the afternoon sky.
Mylu: “Have you ever met the kaidon before?”
Phragga: “Not in person, but everyone has seen or heard him on the news at some point. He has a flair for grand gestures.”
Mylu: (mutters) “Sounds like someone I know back home. Well, I hope he’s not arranging this meeting just for show.”
Varying sizes of aircraft zoom past them as Iqnucekk continues to climb into the upper skylanes. The residential district below soon gives way to fancier buildings and high rises. Mylu cranes his neck to peer ahead and sees that they are approaching the tallest structure in the city, more like a tower than a commercial skyscraper.
The Iqnucekk settles onto a landing platform on the side of the structure, and a moment later the safety locks on the seats disengage. Phragga hops down onto the platform, and Mylu does the same. The two guards riding with them are joined by two more holding scanners. They wave the devices over Phragga, and the scanners light up white in response. When they do the same with Mylu, the scanners immediately flash red.
Guard 3: “Remove your combat harness.”
Mylu: (surprised) “What, why?”
Guard 3: “You are carrying... (checks scanner) five weapons and... (checks scanner again) three decryption tools that violate our security protocols.”
Mylu: (peers down) “I am?”
Guard 1: “It’s alright, the kaidon cleared them.”
The two new guards exchange a glance at hearing this.
Guard 4: (stiffly) “Right this way.”
Mylu takes a quick glimpse into the city below before he and Phragga are escorted inside the tower. The corridors are occupied by an ever-shifting crowd of busy-looking Sangheili, Sovereign Guard patrols, and Unggoy attendants. In between the crowds, Mylu catches glimpses of wooden carvings on the walls, row upon row of traditional illustrations with ancient Sangheili writing scrawled underneath.
Mylu: (realization) “These are family sagas. So this is... the Hidal Keep?”
Phragga: “Yes. I know many of you prefer your keeps somewhere remote, but House ‘Hidal is exceedingly vain even for Sangheili. They always liked being the centre of attention.”
They reach a set of ornate metal doors, which peel back like a flower to reveal a surprisingly small and undecorated office. Aside from a single kafel desk and a pair of metal swords hanging on the adjacent wall, nothing fills the room except the humbly-dressed Sangheili in a faded turquoise robe, gazing out the window wall at the city below — Dren ‘Hidal. He turns as Mylu and Phragga enter and immediately places one fist over his upper heart.
Dren: “Welcome, Mylu ‘Zulmar. Please sit.”
Dren taps the panel on his desk and a chair rises out of the floor. He sits in his own chair, motioning to the guards to leave. Phragga remains standing as the doors close, leaving the three of them alone in the office as Mylu takes a seat across from Dren.
Dren: “I am Dren ‘Hidal, kaidon of this state. I understand you encountered some trouble at the spaceport this morning.”
Mylu: “I did. With all due respect, kaidon, I’m a little surprised we are meeting. This incident seems below your pay grade.”
Dren: (smiles amicably) “I try to be involved to the best of my capacity. I consider the people’s problems to be my problems.”
Mylu: “If that’s so, then we should start with the obvious. For starters, why is a prosperous city like this unable to fund a proper security detail at the spaceport?”
Dren: “Ah. Well, it is not a question of funding but the more complex matter of willingness. The staff at the spaceport is mostly Sangheili, and unfortunately they have developed a habit of looking the other way or being conveniently elsewhere when the incidents occur. They have become good at operating within the bounds of plausible deniability, so any attempt I make to persecute them will not make me popular.”
Phragga: “Is popularity your priority, kaidon?”
Dren’s smile turns tight.
Dren: “No, reality is. And reality dictates that rash decisions seldom lead to desirable outcomes. (TO MYLU) I have an offer for you, Master Mylu. I will reimburse every last gekz you’re owed out of my personal funds, and all you need to do is forget any talk of trade sanctions upon returning to Sanghelios. A fair exchange, wouldn’t you say?”
Mylu: “Fair, and exceedingly generous on your part. Either there’s more that you want or I ought to be suspicious of you.”
Dren: (mildly impressed) “Very observant. You are correct, because although I consider myself reasonably charitable, I must ask for your passive cooperation in this deal. (seriously) You and your bodyguard will withdraw contact from the crew of the Fortune’s Favor, and I will arrange for both of you to be flown back to Sanghelios. You’ll find the trip markedly more expedient on one of my ships.”
Mylu: “And what of Veckel and his crew?”
Dren: “My people demand answers about the protestors killed at the spaceport. It will not take much to convince them that Captain Veckel had escalated a non-violent situation into a violent one. I will take care to omit any mention of you or your bodyguard, naturally.”
Phragga bristles angrily. Dren does not take his eyes off Mylu, who mulls over Dren’s words.
Dren: “So do we have an accord?”
Mylu does not so much as glance at Phragga before responding.
Mylu: “Yes.”
The hatch to the gambling den is flung open, allowing Veckel to hop out into the alley. He darts aside to allow Plokk to follow suit, and the two of them help Vaz clamber out as the sound of angry Kig-Yar is heard from inside the den. One of them makes a grab for Vaz’s foot, but he kicks the gambler back down and slams the hatch shut.
Plokk hurriedly leads Vaz and Veckel deeper into the alleyways and away from the sound of banging from the hatch. They turn several tight corners before squeezing into a smaller alley, one nestled between two warehouses. Plokk braces his back against one side while rapidly climbing with the other, with Vaz and Veckel following his example.
The three of them soon make it to the rooftop, ducking low and keeping quiet as several Kig-Yar can be heard running past them below. Once the commotion subsides, Plokk begins to snicker. Vaz gives him a bemused look.
Plokk: “Don’t take it personally, kid. I told you they were bad losers. How much did we make, Veckel?”
Veckel grins as he pulls out a big handful of credit chips.
Veckel: “Half million gekz.”
Vaz: (astounded) “You turned fifty-thousand gekz into five hundred thousand without cheating?”
Veckel: “Veckel have much experience. Urado gamblers amateur compared to Shear.”
Veckel tosses one of the credit chips to Plokk, who catches it and stows it carefully.
Vaz: “What now?”
Plokk: “Now we find another place to turn this money into more money. Veckel could do this for a living if he wanted to.”
Veckel: “Not sustainable living. Make too many enemies if Veckel always win.”
Plokk: “You’re resourceful enough to stay ahead of them. Shipbreaking and freight trade are a waste of your talents.”
Veckel: (firmly) “Aunt Phragga help Veckel with gambling debt many times. Veckel promise Aunt Phragga, not gamble if Veckel not have to.”
Veckel’s comms unit chimes, prompting him to withdraw it from his tunic. A hologram of Thaff’s face lights up above the device.
Thaff: (COM) “Come quick, boss. Things are getting nasty over here.”
Veckel: (concerned) “What news, Thaff?”
Thaff: (COM) “Another protestor attack. We managed to keep them away from the ship, but the constabulary just showed up and–”
Thaff turns his head suddenly, looking alarmed.
Thaff: “Hey, there’s no need for that. He didn’t– hey, stop! Leave him alone!”
Thaff’s image vanishes as the call disconnects. Veckel frantically taps the comms device several times.
Veckel: (alarmed) “Thaff? Thaff, answer!”
Plokk: (beak twitches) “In your opinion as a professional gambler, what are the odds your ship gets hit twice in a row in a spaceport the size of Sabarann’s?”
Veckel peers up at Plokk, eyes narrowing in realization.
Veckel: “Spaceport tell protestors about Veckel.”
Plokk: “I’m surprised it took this long. The spaceport would be losing a lot of business just to protect you. I’m guessing the constabulary knows as well by now.”
Vaz: “Well, what are we going to do about it? Veckel’s crew is in trouble, we shouldn’t be standing here talking.”
Veckel’s quills straighten atop his head, shifting to a cold blue.
Veckel: (calmly) “Turn Veckel in. Crew go free.”
Vaz: (taken aback) “What?”
| CY-43 // 232U:65CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1639 HOURS // JUNE 27, 2554 」 Location: HIDAL KEEP, CITY OF SABARANN CENTRAL DISTRICT, STATE OF HIDAL // PLANET URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
Phragga: (outraged) “WHAT?!”
Mylu stands and turns to face Phragga, his expression devoid of sympathy.
Mylu: “I didn’t ask for any of this, Phragga. You knew that.”
Phragga: “You think my nephew asked for this? You have some nerve tossing him aside the moment you get what you want, that’s what I know!”
Mylu: “Truthfully, I don’t much care what you know.”
Phragga leans forward so that her beak is right up in his face.
Phragga: (scathingly) “Well, here’s something else I know. You have no honour, Mylu ‘Zulmar. I’d call you a disgrace to your kind, except they follow the same example you do.”
Mylu: “Enough, you screeching old wyrnak. (TO DREN) I should get her out of your office before she moults all over your floor.”
Phragga: (furiously) “I’ll moult the scales off your hide, you self-serving–!”
Mylu closes Phragga’s beak with one hand. He smiles sheepishly at Dren, who is pulling up some digital documents from the built-in terminal on his desk.
Dren: “Don’t take too long. I will need your signature to ratify our agreement.”
Mylu wrestles a flailing Phragga out of the office. Two guards outside notice the commotion and move to secure her as the doors close behind them.
Mylu: “No, I have her. Could you direct me to the nearest lavatory?”
One of the guards points to a junction halfway down the corridor. The other peers down and notices that a few of Phragga’s scales have landed on his boots.
Guard: “Turn left and go past the meditation chamber. It’s on the other side.”
Mylu: “Thank you.”
Mylu hauls Phragga down the corridor and around the bend, leaving an increasingly noticeable trail of scales. He cuts through the meditation chamber as directed, and spotting the lavatory, dashes through the open door and uses his free hand to tap the panel on the inside, shutting the door and locking it.
Phragga stops writhing, and Mylu gently sets her down, holding up both hands and taking a few steps back.
Mylu: (nervously) “Wait, let me explain...”
Mylu flinches as Phragga squares her shoulders, only for her to clamp down on her own beak with both hands. A quiet snicker escapes her, causing Mylu to rear back in confusion.
Phragga: (mirthfully) “He definitely bought it. You’re a natural, kid.”
Mylu: (blinks) “You mean... you weren’t actually mad at me?”
Phragga hunches over to suppress a guffaw.
Phragga: “This isn’t my first con. I’ve swindled enough people like Dren to know he sees what he wants to see. And I wasn’t about to let your efforts go to waste, so I put on a show with you. You did great.”
Mylu: “Err, thanks. I am glad to know you didn’t mean any of what you said back there, because it was very hurtful.”
Phragga punches Mylu lightly on the shoulder.
Phragga: “Grow a thicker set of scales, young master. Or the galaxy will be that much tougher on an outlaw such as yourself.”
Mylu: “Outlaw?”
Phragga: “That’s right. Like it or not, it’s what you are now.”
Mylu looks perturbed and says nothing in response. Instead he taps the transponder in his helmet.
Mylu: “Vaz? I have some bad news.”
Vaz: (COM) “As do I, Master Mylu. Veckel is turning himself in.”
Phragga: (alarmed) “What?”
Mylu: (surprised) “You can hear into my helmet?”
Phragga fixes him with a beady look in response.
Vaz: (COM) “The constabulary detained Veckel’s crew to investigate their supposed involvement in provoking the gunfight. He’s going to bargain for their release in exchange for a confession.”
Phragga hisses in displeasure, crouching over next to Mylu’s helmet.
Phragga: “Which detention centre is he being sent to?”
Vaz: (COM) “He doesn’t know, the constabulary won’t tell us. Take Master Mylu somewhere safe, I will free Veckel myself if I must.”
Mylu: “I’m not leaving yet. And don’t free Veckel, not right now.”
Vaz: (COM) “May I ask why?”
Mylu: “Because Dren ‘Hidal’s going to pay up. And because I want to search the keep for some footage of the first attack, or a record log from the spaceport database.”
Phragga: (agog) “You’re waiting for Dren to make a public statement, and then expose him as a liar.”
Mylu: (grins) “You’re my favourite person on this planet, Phragga.”
Vaz: (COM) “Really?”
Mylu: “I misspoke, favourite person from this planet. Can you head back, Vaz?”
Vaz: (COM) “I shall, once I help Plokk figure out where they’re taking Veckel.”
Mylu: “Who’s Plokk?”
Phragga: (scowls) “A rapscallion. I thought Veckel was done running with him.”
Vaz: (COM) “They made a lot of money in one afternoon. Plokk and I are holding onto it for now.”
Phragga: “Whatever he’s holding, make sure he doesn’t run off with it. And don’t let your guard down around him.”
Vaz: (COM) “I understand. Good luck, Master Mylu. Good luck, Phragga.”
Mylu: “You as well, Vaz.”
Mylu switches off his transponder, dusting a few scales off his armour as he and Phragga straighten.
Phragga: “Keep the kaidon in his office for as long as you can. Pretend you’re bad at signing documents.”
Mylu: (self-consciously) “I am bad at signing documents.”
Phragga: “Even better. As soon as we open the door, I’ll overpower you and then run around the keep until I lose the guards. Dren will want you to sign before you change your mind, so he’s not going to chase me himself. Ready?”
Mylu: “Ready. One, two–”
The door slides open to reveal Dren levelling a Plasma Rifle at them. He is flanked by four guards with raised Energy Staves. Phragga leaps forward, kicking Dren’s gun hand aside and latching onto his torso, sending him staggering into his guards.
Phragga: “Run, kid!”
Mylu makes a break for the opening, but two staves catch him on either side of his ribs, shorting out his energy shields and sending electricity coursing through his body. He collapses, twitching, as Phragga is zapped in the back by another stave, and she tumbles to the floor beside him.
| CY-43 // 249U:59CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 0935 HOURS // JUNE 28, 2554 」 Location: HIDAL KEEP, CITY OF SABARANN CENTRAL DISTRICT, STATE OF HIDAL // PLANET URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
Mylu stirs groggily from where he lies upon the barren metal floor. Blinking, he peers around the cell he is sitting in and slowly reaches for the plasma barrier. His energy shields fizzle as soon as his fingers make contact with its surface, and he promptly withdraws his hand with a growl. He hears a chime as the brig doors slide open, and groans to himself.
Mylu: (quietly) “Fied take me.”
Vaz is marched in by two guards holding him firmly by the arms. He manages to briefly lock eyes with Mylu before he is brusquely shoved into the opposite cell, and the plasma barrier seals him in.
Dren strolls into the brig a moment later, hands folded behind his back. Vaz’s glare follows him as he approaches Mylu’s cell.
Dren: “It was a brilliant plan, Mylu ‘Zulmar, and one I might have fallen for – had I not done my research on you already. You see, I thought it bizarre that a House as prestigious as yours would assign a trade representative to a lowly vessel like the Fortune’s Favor, when you also had more expensive shipments being ferried to Urado.”
Mylu: (disinterested) “I don’t know if anyone has told you this, but you talk too much.”
Dren: (smugly) “I think you’ll find what I have to say very interesting, fledgling. A few days ago, one such high-value freighter brought news about a recent coup in your state, and as I understand it, Seo ‘Zulmar is now the acting kaidon.”
Mylu stiffens.
Dren: “The moment your complaint was brought to my attention, I contacted Seo inquiring why he had decided to send a trade representative. He responded that he had done no such thing and asked that I hold you here until he arrives.”
Mylu: (sarcastically) “I can hardly contain my excitement.”
Dren: (smiles thinly) “Then I need not keep you waiting.”
Seo ‘Zulmar saunters into view, flanked by two of his own guards. A metal prosthetic is fixed to the stump of his right arm, four razor-sharp claws making up the thumbs and fingers.
Seo: “Hello, cousin. I don’t believe we were quite finished before you ran off.”
Mylu: (scowls) “Don’t you have better things to do than chasing me, acting kaidon?”
Seo: “Don’t be dense, Mylu, it doesn’t become you. Aunt Katin has gone to ground, and she won’t be found unless she wants to be. And once she hears that I have you–”
Mylu: “–she’ll take your other arm. Or better yet, slit your throat.”
Seo: (irately) “Watch your tongue. Vex me enough, and I will simply kill you and wait for her to seek retribution.”
Mylu: “Yes, that’s about as good a plan as I would expect from you. (scathingly) You dimwit, don’t you understand? They made you acting kaidon so they could send you on a fool’s errand. You’re being set up to fail, and fail you will.”
Seo: (scoffs) “We shall see. (TO DREN) May I?”
Dren: “Please do.”
As Seo and his guards approach Mylu’s cell, Vaz is silently pantomiming from behind them. He holds up two fingers and taps them against his upper heart, then hunches into a crouch. Mylu turns to Dren, shifting surreptitiously to keep Vaz in the corner of his vision.
Mylu: “You know, you and Seo have a lot in common. You share a need to be important, you’re not as smart as you think you are, and you love the sound of your own voice – an unfortunate combination for anyone who has to bear your company. Oh, and you’re both unapologetically racist.”
Dren’s expression tightens, but Seo actually laughs. Neither of them notice Vaz repeating the same gesture to Mylu as before, over and over again. Mylu gives him a slight nod, and Vaz stops before returning the nod.
Seo: “You landed on Urado not two sunsets ago, and suddenly you think you’re fit to judge me? Iclannon is full of inequity, you knew this as well as I, but that never bothered you before. Even now it doesn’t, we both know that. Well... unlike your mother, I intend to do something about it.”
Mylu’s head lowers sullenly. He stares at the floor as Dren approaches his cell.
Vaz: (fiercely) “Master Mylu has already done something. He’s in that cell because he helped good people.”
Seo rounds on Vaz dubiously.
Seo: “The gambler and his retired corsair of an aunt? Vaz, I thought you had better sense than that. Especially after I sent those Kig-Yar after Mylu at the Festival of Moons.”
Vaz bristles in rage, but can do nothing more than glare more intently at Seo. Seo’s guards train their weapons on Mylu as Dren uses his wristpad to unlock the cell.
Dren: “This has been riveting, but I’m sure you will all have plenty to say to each other on the flight back–”
As soon as the plasma barrier vanishes, Mylu swiftly taps two fingers to his upper heart and ducks into the crouching position Vaz demonstrated. His combat harness’ thrusters immediately kick in, launching him straight into Dren.
Seo rears back in surprise as his guards open fire, but their shots fly wide as Mylu and Dren sail past them. Mylu unwittingly pins Dren against the plasma barrier between them and Vaz, and Dren screams while trying unsuccessfully to lift the back of his unprotected neck from its searing surface. He frantically starts keying a combination into his wristpad.
Seo: “No!”
Seo and his guards rush forward, but are unable to prevent Vaz’s cell from unlocking – along with all the others in the brig. Both Seo’s and Dren’s guards turn toward the inmates stepping out of the cells on both sides to surround them; mostly Kig-Yar, but also a handful of Unggoy and a single Sangheili. Their fists are clenched as they calmly march toward the guards, who stow their guns and draw their blades.
As chaos breaks out all around them, Seo’s prosthetic closes around Mylu’s throat, and with a snarl, Seo hurls him against the opposite wall. Mylu’s energy shields sputter and he slumps to the floor, dazed. Vaz charges forward, engaging his own thrusters and tackling Seo into Mylu’s cell.
Mylu shakes his head, regaining his senses in time to see Dren rushing at Vaz with an Energy Sword. Mylu kicks at Dren’s feet as he runs past, but Dren manages to leap over him. However, the swing he makes at Vaz goes high, giving Vaz the opportunity to grab his wristpad and tear it free.
Vaz taps the wristpad as Seo lunges at him, and every plasma barrier reactivates, including the one Seo smacks headfirst into. Vaz smashes the control panel next to Seo’s cell, destroying it. Dren takes a livid swing at Vaz with his free hand, but Vaz ducks and retaliates by shoving him into a crowd of angry inmates.
A hand on his shoulder prompts Vaz to whirl about, but he calms down when he sees that it is Veckel. Nearby, Mylu is being helped to his feet by Phragga, who jerks her head toward the exit.
Phragga: “This way. Stay close.”
The four of them sprint out into the corridor amidst five other Kig-Yar. Vaz examines Dren’s wristpad, reading the digital display while running.
Mylu: “Vaz, what are the five weapons in my combat harness?”
Vaz: (preoccupied) “Hmm?”
Mylu: “One of the guards said I was wearing five weapons and three decryption tools before I was admitted into the keep.”
Vaz: “If they are similar to my standard armour, then they would likely be an Energy Dagger, a garrotte, flares, shock emitters, and electromagnetic coils.”
Mylu: (eyes widen) “Mother put all that into one combat harness?”
Vaz: “She would’ve put more if she had time.”
Phragga: “Speaking of not having time, we don’t have time for chatter right now. The three of you need a ship to get off-planet, and I know where to find one. (TO INMATES) You’re gonna want to do the same, even if you have family here.”
One of the female Kig-Yar, Jaal, clicks her beak in affirmation.
Jaal: “Guess we’re with you for now. As long as the Sangheili keep their blades pointed away from us.”
Phragga: “That won’t be a problem.”
Mylu: “Why aren’t we getting swarmed by guards? I thought Dren would’ve raised the alarm by now.”
Vaz: (holds up wristpad) “I relieved him of this during the commotion. He’ll have to shout for them the old-fashioned way.”
Jaal: (disdainfully) “Not likely. Dren favours discretion, and looking frugal as part of his image as a generous public figure. It gets him a lot of donations from the visitors frequenting the keep... crafty bastard.”
Mylu: “I thought Kig-Yar would appreciate that sort of craftiness.”
Jaal: “Maybe I do. But a Sangheili doing it unnerves me.”
A long stretch of silence falls over them as Phragga leads them into a maintenance tunnel, just barely large enough for Mylu and Vaz to squeeze into. Jaal and the other Kig-Yar follow closely behind, with Veckel bringing up the rear. After a while, Mylu glances at Vaz who is directly behind him.
Mylu: “Vaz, what you said back there...”
Vaz, still examining the stolen wristpad, cranes his neck slightly to meet Mylu’s gaze.
Mylu: “You spoke in defence of my honour and I am appreciative, but... I’m not all that you say I am. Seo was right, it’s not my conscience that irks me about this situation. I just find it all absurd and stupid.”
Phragga: “It’s always been absurd and stupid. You’re just getting old enough to start understanding what that really means. You’ve already figured out what you want to do about it, so I’d say you’re on the right path.”
Veckel: “Mylu learn much one day. Mylu brain grow up, Veckel believe Mylu heart grow up too.”
Vaz: (smiles slightly) “You see, Master Mylu? You have people other than me who believe in you.”
Mylu: (flustered) “I... am at a loss. This is... thank you, everyone. I’ll... do my best.”
Phragga: “That’s all anyone can ask of you, kid. Everything else comes second, don’t forget that.”
Phragga stops at a junction in the tunnel. She steps to the right and points into the corridor opposite her.
Phragga: “You’re all going that way. It leads straight to the hangar, if my hearing can still be trusted.”
Veckel: (concerned) “Where Aunt Phragga go?”
Phragga: “Mylu had the right idea about getting evidence to clear your name. I’m gonna do that and slip out on my own.”
Mylu: “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
Phragga: (laughs) “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wouldn’t have gotten caught last night if I didn’t have you to worry about. Now get going, I’ll meet you outside the city once you secure a ship.”
Mylu looks to Veckel, who gives him a nod. They file into the corridor on the left while Phragga briskly darts off alone. The ambient hum of a hangar bay can soon be heard, and before long the maintenance tunnel ends with a short ladder with a covered hatch above.
Mylu: (grumbles) “Of course there’s a ladder...”
Mylu awkwardly contorts himself in the tight space so that he can reach up and touch the underside of the cover, causing it to slide back in response. He grabs the ladder rungs and shimmies up onto the hangar floor, with Vaz clamping the wristpad between his mandibles before hauling himself up after Mylu. The Kig-Yar ignore the ladder entirely, leaping up and out of the opening with ease.
The eight of them quietly conceal themselves behind a row of containers, taking in the contents of the hangar. Two massive spacecraft take up most of the interior, attended to by a pair of Huragok. Mylu’s eyes linger on the Lightrunner-class corvette on the far end, watched by eight of House ‘Zulmar’s Sovereign Guard.
Jaal: (enticed) “Now that’s a fast ship.”
Mylu: “We can’t take it. Even if we best all the guards on board, its failsafes would bring down the ship before we clear the city.”
Jaal: (disappointed) “You're sure?”
Mylu: “Certain. Don’t ever steal from House ‘Zulmar, you’ll lose more than you take.”
Veckel is peering at the other ship, a sleek luxury craft about half the size of the corvette.
Veckel: “This ship better. Not fast, but fly easy with small crew.”
Jaal: “That’s Dren’s personal ship. Purchased with funds he embezzled from city taxes, naturally.”
Vaz: (incredulously) “How does he fly this out of the keep without anyone noticing?”
Jaal: “It has an excellent cloaking unit and anti-detection system. Would you like me to show you?”
Vaz holds out the wristpad to Jaal. Mylu’s eyes light up.
Mylu: (smirks) “No, to Fied with that. I want the entire city to see our exit.”
The Sovereign Guard outside Seo’s Lightrunner look up in alarm as the hangar’s metal hatch begins to lower. They shout to one another as Dren’s luxury craft hums to life and rises effortlessly into the air. Sitting behind two of its built-in Shade turrets are Mylu and Vaz, who gleefully hose the corvette’s engines with plasma as their ship glides past.
One of the corvette’s engines explodes, rocking the stern upward and throwing several guards off their feet. They scramble to stand and join their comrades in opening fire on the luxury craft, although none of their shots land as the vessel darts out of the hangar bay.
Veckel, standing in the flight cabin with Jaal while the other Kig-Yar operate the controls, flashes Mylu and Vaz a grin as they climb out of their turret trenches.
Veckel: “Mylu and Vaz much help today. Veckel say thank you.”
Veckel holds out two credit chips to Mylu and Vaz.
Vaz: “That isn’t necessary, Veckel, we–”
Mylu: “You are most welcome.”
Mylu swipes the credit chips without hesitation. Vaz rolls his eyes but does not argue.
Vaz: (TO VECKEL) “So, the constabulary handed you over to Dren the moment you turned yourself in?”
Veckel: “Yes. Dren prepare confession for Veckel. Veckel recite.”
Jaal: “Dren’s official statement is circulating publicly as we speak. Should be interesting once Phragga gets hold of that evidence.”
Mylu: “And until then?”
Vaz: “Until then, we leave the city as instructed. Wait for her to find us.”
| CY-43 // 260U:35CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 2021 HOURS // JUNE 28, 2554 」 Location: ABANDONED OUTSKIRTS, CITY OF SABARANN, STATE OF HIDAL // PLANET URADO, BO’THARI SYSTEM |
The sun is sinking over the outskirts bordering the mountainous regions of Hidal. Vaz and Veckel stand outside Dren’s ship, while Mylu chats with Jaal in the flight cabin. Veckel, who is watching something on his handheld datapad, guffaws derisively. Vaz glances his way as Veckel beckons him over.
Veckel: (cheerfully) “Come, Vaz must see.”
Veckel taps his datapad as Vaz joins him, and a video begins to play upon its surface. Veckel flicks upward to transform the image into a three-dimensional hologram, replaying news footage of Dren’s luxury craft crippling Seo’s Lightrunner before flying out of the Hidal Keep.
Veckel: (chortles) “Dren not look for us now. Public demand explanation.”
Vaz: (smirks) “Let him try. Even if he talks his way out of this, his keep will want a kaidon who isn’t mired in scandal.”
Veckel: “Politicians honourable on Sanghelios?”
Vaz: “Some are. Many more are not, but even they are better at hiding their hands than Dren. The unwritten rule is not to get caught.”
Veckel: “Kig-Yar and Sangheili more alike than Covenant say. Veckel learn something too.”
Vaz: (quietly) “The Covenant pitted its races against one another by design, or so my mother used to tell me. But they’re not around to make the rules anymore, and perhaps we will all be better for it.”
Their attention is drawn toward the arrival of a banged-up freighter, one side of its rusted hull bearing the name Ibie’shan Aspirant in faded alien lettering. It sets down next to the luxury craft with a creaking groan, and the boarding ramp slams against the dirt, a simple metal strip with no barriers or handrails.
Mylu emerges from Dren’s ship, followed by Jaal and the other Kig-Yar. They join Vaz and Veckel as Phragga appears from inside the Aspirant. She hops off the boarding ramp and approaches the group as well.
Phragga: “Nice choice of ship. I was admiring it on the news just now.”
Mylu: “Can’t say the same for yours. Where’d you find it, a scrap heap?”
Plokk exits the Aspirant as well, patting out a small fire on his shoulder. He is followed by the seven Unggoy making up Veckel’s crew.
Kipkip: “Yes, actually. We were going to disassemble this and sell it for parts, but I see Veckel’s picked up something much better.”
Plokk: “That’s no jest. You could easily flip that on the black market for four, maybe five million gekz.”
Veckel turns and admires the luxury craft.
Veckel: “Veckel fly to Shear to sell ship. Then Kipkip buy new ship.”
Mylu: “So what’s the rust bucket for?”
Phragga: “You and Vaz are going on that one. (reluctantly) With Plokk.”
Mylu: (alarmed) “What?!”
Phragga: (matter-of-fact) “Shear’s a rougher neighbourhood than Urado by a long stretch. You boys are resourceful, but you wouldn’t last one cycle there, even with Veckel looking out for you. This is for the best.”
Veckel: “Veckel see Mylu and Vaz again. But must pay tribute first.”
Vaz: (solemnly) “I understand. (TO PHRAGGA) Are you sure about this?”
Phragga shoots Plokk a dirty look. Plokk quickly lowers his gaze.
Phragga: (heavily) “No. But until I clear my nephew’s name, you and Mylu are better off keeping your distance. You can bet Dren will want his ship back as well, and as much as I hate to say it, you’ll be safer with Plokk right now. He’s a delinquent, but he won’t do you any harm – not on purpose, at least.”
Plokk: “I’ll make sure they’re well-looked after, milady.”
Phragga: (sternly) “You’d better, or I’ll feed you your own beak through your ass.”
Phragga clasps one hand each over Mylu and Vaz’s and squeezes tightly.
Phragga: “Now you listen closely to me, Mylu ‘Zulmar and Vaz ‘Suman. The galaxy is an unkind place, and you will inevitably have to do unkind things if you want to survive. But don’t become like those you vanquish, lest you end up in their position one day. You’re both better than that, so always choose to be better.”
Mylu: “Yes, Phragga.”
Vaz: “Thank you, Phragga.”
Phragga: (smiles) “No need to thank me. You two have given me more hope for the future than I knew I needed.”
As Plokk leads Jaal and the other Kig-Yar into the Aspirant, the Unggoy do the same with the luxury craft. Veckel looks around before addressing Mylu and Vaz once more.
Veckel: “Veckel learn parting phrase from ancient language humans call ‘Chinese’. Chinese say zaijian – not mean ‘goodbye’, but mean ‘will meet again’.”
Mylu: “That we shall. It’s been an honour, Veckel.”
Vaz: “It most certainly has. Fair travels, Captain.”
Vaz clenches one fist over his upper heart in a stiff salute. Veckel slips his tricorn-shaped helmet over his head and returns the gesture, prompting small smiles from Mylu and Vaz. The two of them hasten to board the Aspirant, although Vaz stops atop the ramp to glance back.
Veckel and Phragga are speaking, though their words are indiscernible. Veckel hands something to Phragga which she tries to refuse, but he insistently presses it on her. She takes him in a tight embrace, and Vaz watches longingly for a moment before he turns away and enters the Aspirant.
As the walls rattle in response to the turbines humming to life, Vaz makes his way through the freighter’s stripped and weathered interior, passing by a few sections where the lights are flickering erratically. He soon finds Mylu in the galley, flipping through the food stores.
Mylu: “It’s a bit of a downgrade from Veckel’s ship, isn’t it? Still, I could eat anything right now, even if it has to come out of a dispenser. Would you believe I actually forgot I was hungry amidst all the excitement?”
Vaz wearily takes a seat next to Mylu.
Vaz: “It’s a feeling you’ll get used to, Master Mylu. I suspect things will not get any easier for us going forward.”
Mylu: “Don’t be so pessimistic, Vaz. You were right, we did end up making a difference – in a weird, roundabout way, but regardless I feel good about what we achieved.”
Mylu pulls out two intact blocks of preserved food paste and eagerly rips them open. He offers one to Vaz, who accepts with a nod of thanks. The two of them dig in ravenously right as Plokk enters the galley.
Plokk: (proudly) “Good news, boys. We won’t be stuck on this trash processor for long, because Jaal just told me about a job.”
Vaz: (warily) “What kind of job?”
Plokk: (nonplussed) “What do you think? The kind with a big payday at the end! We’re about to rob the slickest human on this side of the known galaxy – Tobias Lensky.”
Plokk’s face falls upon seeing Mylu and Vaz’s looks of stunned silence.
Plokk: “Honestly, not the reaction I was hoping for.”
Mylu turns to Vaz, who facepalms with both hands.
Mylu: “Remind me to never listen to you ever again.”
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Community Submissions[]
- Veckel appears courtesy of KingOfYou115.
- Urado appears courtesy of Arminius Fiddywinks.