Intermission- Movie Night 1 ~ 3 months prior

  The Gamma Hounds sat spread around the lounge, but all facing toward the wall where the soft-light holoscreen hung. On the screen, a battered Augisti, a badger-like species, stood bruised and battered while holding a blaster at his side. Smoke rose from its barrel as the words “To Murder a Merc” slowly descended to the center of the screen.

  Evan snorted. “Wait, why is the barrel smoking? He’s supposed to be this professional former killer, but he doesn’t even maintain his blaster.” He complained vocally, earning a nod of agreement from Nia while Emerald and Ratchet exchanged knowing glances.

  “For real, it’s not even that hard to keep up. Just replace the focus. I swear they add these cool factor effects, but to anyone who knows what’s going on, it really pulls you out.” Nia said, concurring with Evan.

  Ratchet sighed as Nia joined in on the commentary. “Alright, I’m just going to order some takeout.” The fennec said as he went to step out of the room. Evan turned to look at his friend with confusion.

  “Why, the movie is only an hour and twenty minutes?” Evan pulled out his com-pad, the numbers showing 1513. “It’s only three, so I’ll have time to cook.” He said confidently.

  From her spot lounging on the couch, Emerald coughed into her paw. “Bullshit.” earning a glare from Evan as she hid a smile behind the same hand she coughed into.

  “Yeah…. I’m just hungry for pizza. Don’t worry about it, man.” Ratchet said while averting his gaze, quickly shuffling into the other room to call the food in. A few minutes later he came back into the room, the order placed. With everyone present once again, Nia resumed the movie. Another ten minutes played, showing a short montage of the Augusti, Jason Whip, meeting with a few old contacts and friends to gather equipment and intel on the people who murdered his pet Lyco, a small wingless avian-like animal that walked on all fours and had the mannerisms of a house pet.

  The scene ended with Jason stepping out of a black-market gun store disguised as a shoe shop. “Man, I wish I could get a disintegrator-grade blaster on a fringe world.” Nia said sarcastically.

  Evan shook his head in disagreement, though. “Nah, I’ll give them a pass on this one. I mean, I found funnel drones in the back room of a gun store on a fringe colony ship.” He said, giving the movie a pass.

  Nia’s eyes widened before she nodded, conceding the point to Evan. “Damn, I didn’t even think about that.” She said as her face went flat, as she mentally mulled over the thought.

  Evan saw her expression and seemed to misread it. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be dismissive, Nia.” He said, scratching the back of his head.

  Nia waved him off lazily with one paw. “Don’t apologize, man. No one read it like that.” The felanid said as she gave Evan an encouraging grin, to which Evan gave an appreciative nod.

  The movie continued with Jason having single-handedly broken into a secure compound through the front door, fighting his way through a horde of goons. His weapons became more and more impractical as he mowed through the masses, starting with a blaster and somehow, by the end, he was jamming a corkscrew into the eye of the antagonist’s bodyguard.

  “Hold up, he still has the knife!” Evan all but yelled in frustration as Jason’s coat flapped in the wind, his still-sheathed knife blatantly visible.

  Nia burst into laughter as she saw it. “By the precursors, you’re right.” Then she gasped and paused the movie, pointing at the screen. “He still has his wife’s kinetic gun!” Nia pointed as the wind blew Jason’s jacket back even further, revealing the other firearm.

  Both Evan and Nia were now belly laughing, with the latter slipping out of the chair and onto the floor. Meanwhile, Ratchet and Emerald were both passed out in food comas, having eaten the two large pizzas themselves while Evan and Nia were distracted by the poorly paced and over-the-top movie.

  Evan shook his head as he caught his breath. He then looked to Nia. “How many of these are there?” He asked.

  A wide grin sprouted on Nia’s face. “Six, and each one has a lower budget and even more unknown actors.” Evan looked at their other two passed-out teammates, then smiled back at Nia conspiratorially.

  “Technically, it’s Em’s turn to choose the next movie, but…..” Evan said with a conspiratorial tone, while giving Nia a knowing look.

  The felanid’s typical lazy smile was nowhere to be seen, but was instead replaced by a gleeful one as she snuck over to a rack where the team stored most of their physical media. She ran her claw along the spines of the different cases until she stopped on one. “Oh, here it is!” Nia exclaimed as she pulled it out, the case reading To Murder a Merc 2: Pythagoras.

  “Pythagoras? Isn’t that something to do with math?” Evan asked questioningly as soon as he saw the absurd title. Nia turned the case over in her paws and frowned at it. She then pulled out her com-pad and started browsing the internet.

  Nia then nodded. “Yeah, it says here it has something to do with triangles.” The felanid said as she turned the phone around for Evan to see.

  Ratchet sputtered from his coma on the couch, an indignant look on his face. “That is the most infuriating reduction of a central pillar of modern engineering I’ve ever heard.” He ranted.

  Nia then took another case off the shelf before lightly tossing it. The case arced gently across the room, lightly hitting Ratchet square in the forehead. “Really?” He asked with a frown, rubbing the spot.

  Nia nodded. “Yes, really. Go back to sleeping off that pizza, tubby.” She said with a grin. Ratchet narrowed his eyes at her and then turned back over on the couch with a grumble.

  With no further distractions, Nia inserted the new movie into the media station, and movie night continued.

  Emerald ~ Present day

  “…which they won’t tell us unless we agree to take the mission.” Emerald explained as she finished recounting the phone call from Oscar. Nia and Ratchet both looked contemplative.

  Ratchet, ever the utilitarian, asked the most important question for a bounty hunter. “How much does it pay?” He inquired directly.

  Emerald huffed. “No exact number given, but when I asked I was told ‘Substantial.’”

  If life were a cartoon, the tiny fox’s eyes would have morphed into dollar signs at that statement.

  Even Nia looked more than a little surprised at that. “Wait, Central said that?” She questioned, looking for confirmation, leaning forward over the table.

  Again, Emerald nodded, causing Evan to look at her curiously. “Based on the surprisingly positive reactions, Central usually pays well when they say that?” He asked the room, looking for confirmation.

  Emerald nodded. “Yes, when Central hires out bounty hunters, it pays out the ass in zorkmeds. So, for once, you can count on substantial to mean substantial.” Emerald said; her typical confidence was absent.

  Noticing this, Evan became concerned. “So why do you seem worried?” He questioned, to which Nia turned to look at her friend, before her face grew a grimace of its own. “Oh… that.” Nia said, which told Evan all of nothing.

  Emerald decided to get them back on track, though. “We can deal with my issues later. Are we taking the mission?” She looked to Ratchet first.

  “I’m leaning towards yes, but not if it’s to your detriment, Emerald.” Ratchet answered, crossing his arms and giving Emerald a concerned look. Leaving that unaddressed, Emerald then turned to Nia.

  The felanid sighed. “I vote yes. It’s too much money to ignore.” Nia said, shaking her head. Emerald nodded and then looked to Evan, who still stood behind.

  “My vote is a yes as well. Besides, it’s about time I finally went planetside.” Evan said, his eyes still on Emerald, weighing her reaction.

  With all the votes cast, Emerald gave a nod. “It’s unanimous then. I’ll go call my uncle and let him know we accept. In the meantime, everyone get your shit together and finish up any business you have left on the station.” With that, Ratchet and Nia both left in a hurry, each of them having final touches or supplies they wanted before leaving Horizon’s Edge. Evan, on the other hand, followed Emerald. Soon enough, they were back in her office.

  Emerald took in a deep breath before reaching down to use the larger com-system on her desk. Evan grabbed her mid-journey, stopping her. She looked at him with a mild annoyance.

  “Em, you’re not comfortable with this. What is going on?” He asked directly, concern lacing his voice. Emerald looked away, refusing to continue meeting his gaze. “Everyone here supports you. You don’t have to suffer in silence; please talk to me.” He pleaded.

  Emerald sighed and met his gaze. “Let me make this phone call. Then we’ll talk.” She tried to go for the com-system again, but Evan’s hand remained locked around hers. She brought her other hand and placed it over his, savoring the rare moment of true contact, the ever-present barrier of Evan’s power armor thankfully absent for the moment. “I’m ok, Evan.” She said with a resolute voice, finally causing him to let go.

  Now unhindered, the fox used her paw to punch in Oscar’s contact info. For a few moments, a dull, steady tone—universally used to indicate the signal was being sent—droned on. After about thirty seconds, the auburn face of Rear-Admiral Oscar Strauss suddenly appeared to dominate the holo projector.

  “Has your squad come to a decision?” He asked plainly, skipping the usual courtesy and small talk.

  Emerald nodded. “Yes, we’ve decided to accept the mission.” The arctic fox confirmed. Her tone and posture were steady and dignified, her earlier nervousness well hidden.

  The auburn fox’s muzzle formed a wide smile. “Excellent. Let me know when you’re on your way. You’ll receive mission details and your initial briefing in one of the Senate conference rooms.” He stated with a nod. This last bit of information caused Emerald to grimace slightly, an expression that was not missed by her uncle. “I know what you’re worried about. But I’ll do everything in my power to act as a barrier to that. You’re going to be here on official business for the Senate, not to appease them.” The older fox stated with a hardened expression.

  Emerald gave him a grateful nod. “Thank you, Uncle Oscar. I’ll see you in about a week.” She said with a voice willed steady.

  “Anytime, Popsicle. I love you; never doubt that.” Oscar said tenderly before ending the call.

  Emerald felt her fur bristle in embarrassment as she looked over to Evan, who now wore a wide smile. “Popsicle, huh?” He teased, happy to see this rather than the poorly hidden nervous agitation from earlier.

  “Evan, shut the fuck up, and don’t you ever repeat that in front of Nia or Ratchet.” She said sternly, though her eyes kept their softness.

  Evan held up his hands placatingly. “Ok, ok. Anything for you……. Popsicle.” A wide smile on his face as he said the last word. Emerald’s response was to throw a paperweight at him, which he deftly caught with a laugh.

  Placing the weighty object back on the desk, Evan grabbed the extra chair from the opposite corner of the room and set it across from Emerald. Sitting down in it, he met Emerald’s gaze.

  The arctic fox leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath in through her mouth before letting it out through her nose. The way people often did when they resolved to have a conversation they really didn’t want to have.

  “How much do you know about my past and how I was raised, Evan?” Emerald asked, breaking the silence.

  Evan shrugged. “I know more about the teams than yours. I figured if you wanted to tell me, you would on your own time. Plus, with how ‘open’ I am about mine, it’d be hypocritical for me to pry.” Evan paused, bringing his knuckle up to rest his chin on while he tried to remember what little he knew. “I know you’re a noble and that you grew up with the old team leader. Stuff I’m not privy to happened, so you and Nia split from Ace and her sister. Or you and Nia kicked them off the team. I’m not sure which, but the result’s the same. Gamma Hounds had to nearly start over with only two members, after which you picked up Ratchet, then a while later, me.” Evan said before shaking his head. “That’s about it.”

  Emerald suddenly stood. She then reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head and throwing the bundle on her desk. Evan, not expecting this, turned crimson and looked the other way. “Emerald, what…” He began to sputter.

  “Look at me, Evan.” Emerald said with a serious tone.

  Complying, Evan turned his gaze to take in the fox. Previously hidden underneath the loose, casual shirt was a black sports bra that contrasted heavily with her snow-white fur. His gaze drifted down so as not to become locked to her generous assets. Then his vision froze upon reaching her navel.

  Around her belly button was a tattoo of sorts. The fur dyed or stained an artificial black. The image it depicted was a four-point star flanked by three pairs of winged stripes, the shapes contrasting with her fur in similar manner to the sports bra. Emerald brought a paw down to the tattoo. “This is the symbol of Gerallian nobility. To have this tattoo anywhere on your body and not be of noble birth is one of the worst crimes you can commit in the Federation.” She explained as her paw ran through her fur and over the symbol.

  Evan leaned forward and listened intently.

  “I was born to two high nobles of the Gerallian Senate. Arnald and Leela Strauss.” Emerald began, her voice laced with contempt at the mention of her parents. “I was not the child of a loving union, but the proof of a transaction. My father’s family maintained their fortune through the development of focusing lenses for lasers of all varieties. My mother’s family, the Drom, held their wealth due to their development of battery packs. Their marriage was how both families combined their industries. I’m sure you’ve seen a Drauss pattern blaster or two, right?” Emerald asked, raising an eyebrow at Evan.

  “Those are the ones with the bright blue beam, correct?” Evan asked, looking to Emerald for confirmation, to which the fox nodded. “Gotcha. I’ve mostly heard them called shield breakers, but I’ve heard the term Drauss dropped before. Though knowing its origin, the name’s a bit…. Uninspired.” Evan said casually before wincing as he remembered whose names it was based on. “No offense.”

  Emerald snorted a quick laugh. “I promise you there’s none taken.” She said with a dismissive shake of the head. “Back to the topic at hand. I was raised alongside Adam Gault, or as you’ve heard him called, Ace. Though looking back as an adult, perhaps groomed is a better term.” Emerald spat bitterly, looking away from Evan. “Adam was the son of another noble and a very wealthy merchant. Unlike my parents, Adam’s parents do in fact love each other. His father, Abraham Gault, is the owner of Gault Industries, one of the largest pleasure ship manufacturers in the Federation. His mother, Venessa, owns the third largest supplier runner corps. People pay her group top dollar to procure and transport rare materials and goods. I’m sure you can guess how they met.” Emerald fiddled with a pen on her desk as she gathered herself.

  “You see, even though Gault owned the family business, he isn’t the head of his family. The family head at the time did not want him ‘marrying down.’ They eventually came to an agreement that his son would marry into another noble family of high pedigree, rather than marrying the son to a lower ranked family. There is a lot of politics and history behind the traditions and frankly, they aren’t important right now. What I’m building to is that Ace and I were groomed to eventually marry each other.” Emerald concluded.

  As she did so, a shiver went down her spine as she looked up from her fidgeting at Evan. The tall bounty hunter had his eyes closed. Emerald was confused at first until she looked closer. There was a slight flare to his nostrils with every breath. Each inhalation was steady, measured, and purposeful. His fingers dug into the leather of his chair’s arm. After a moment, he opened his eyes and the look therein almost caused the fox to flinch.

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  With a shuddering exhale, Evan opened his eyes and forced out a single word. “Continue.”

  Emerald fought desperately to keep the smile off her muzzle. The jealous rage Evan failed to hide caused her heart to skip a beat. Suddenly the mission seemed more doable. The frustration and unspoken worries that threatened to overwhelm her were held at bay by the immature display of the thall. So, with a more genuine smile and slightly less frayed nerves, she went on.

  “To say both our pairs of parents were overbearing would be an understatement. It started with playdates at the age of three. Growing into school projects where I always happened to be assigned as his partner. Then, by the time I was thirteen, I couldn’t go hang out with friends unless he was present. By sixteen, I couldn’t go in public alone unless I had security or Ace to escort me.” Emerald spoke bitterly as she recalled a curated childhood, held together by the ambition of adults who wanted something from her. “Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t hate Ace growing up. We were friends, and maybe something could have been there. But when we became teenagers, he figured out he wasn’t as bound as I was.” A sneer formed on her face as she said the last part.

  Evan leaned forward with a confused look. “What do you mean bound?” He asked.

  “I mean he wasn’t bound to the same standards as me. As a woman, I had to save myself for whatever husband my family put me with. That would be Ace. However, that gigolo of a Doberman was expected to do no such thing. In fact, he was encouraged to get his promiscuity out while he was young so he could better devote himself to his station when he came of age.” Emerald stopped her monologue to look sharply at Evan. “Growing up I had a lot of friends before high school. Do you know what changed?” She asked, heat and anger clear in her voice. Evan shook his head no. “What changed is by the end of freshman year every girl I had made the mistake of calling friend had slept with him. He didn’t even hide it. Hell, he was proud of it. I refused to talk to him until we graduated. You know why Nia is one of my oldest friends? Because she’s the only one who turned down that satyromaniac of a dog.” The fox shook her head in disgust.

  Evan tilted his head and decided to ask a question of his own. “Forgive the ignorance, but I thought the Federation banned arranged marriages?” He asked with distaste.

  Emerald could plainly see the disgust on the thall’s face at the concept. However, she couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the question. “Oh, they are. On paper. In reality, whenever I even hinted at not wanting to marry Ace, my life would get worse. I’d be kicked off sports teams. My entertainment systems would be taken away. My petty bitch of a mother would even have the kitchen only bring me food she knew I hated. That’s not to mention what they do to nobles who ‘leave the family.’ You know what happens to most of them?” Emerald asked.

  Evan shook his head.

  “They either end up homeless or disappear, only to end up as a consort. One of my friends tried to avoid her marriage by going to college, only to have her acceptance revoked and be falsely accused of plagiarism. Any job she applied to instantly rejected her. By the end of it, she had to either go live on the streets or crawl back to her family.” The fox let out a sigh and wore a frown at the thought of that old friend.

  “I needed a way. So I went to the one family member who never put those expectations on me.” Emerald smiled fondly as she opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a framed picture, then handed it to Evan.

  Evan held the aged photograph, which showed a white kit on the shoulders of a much younger-looking Oscar. His fur so rich in color it could probably match a red dwarf in vibrancy. “Mom and Uncle Oscar never saw eye to eye. Hell, he hates the nobility more than a minister from the fringe. So when I went to him for help, imagine my surprise that someone else had done so first.” Emerald said, giving Evan a knowing look.

  “Ace?” Evan guessed, already having known who she formed her team with.

  Emerald sneered. “Yeah, Ace. Turns out he didn’t like the idea of responsibility. His father had told him that once he finished college he would be going into lower management and learning the ropes of the company. No more slacking off. No more slinking around town on family money. No more hedonism. So, of course, the pampered prick went to my uncle.” She stopped her rant to let out a deep breath. “Ironically enough, it ended up working in my favor, as at his urging we went down to the local bounty board and registered as a squad. After that, it didn’t take much convincing to get Nia on board. Her sister has always been obsessed with Ace, so she was chomping at the bit to come join.” The fox clicked her tongue in annoyance. “That should have been the writing on the wall, but when you’re that eager, sometimes obvious circumstances will just go right over your head.”

  Evan held up a hand to stop her. “Okay, so I’m a bit confused. You’re an incredible pilot, Em. However, you haven’t mentioned where or when you learned to fly.”

  Emerald cocked her head as her left ear twitched. “What do you mean? I said I was on the sports team. Stunt flying and combat simulators have been the most popular sports for decades. What did you think I meant?” She asked, taking a moment to study Evan’s face.

  “I dunno, football or baseball.” He said with a shrug. “It’s what I played when I was younger. Though I got really into drag racing and off roading in my late teens.” Evan smiled fondly as he said this last bit.

  Emerald gave him a scandalized look at the mention of drag racing. “Wait, they let minors drag race on Thallad?” She asked, with shock in her voice.

  He looked at her, confused. “Thalla… OH…. Uh, yeah, yeah it was.” Evan said, suddenly finding everything in the room that wasn’t Emerald very interesting.

  The fox squinted her eyes at him in suspicion. Then her thoughts went to what Nia had said about his homeworld. “It’s nothing like what I had heard about the Thall homeworld.” She was suspicious, but there was another topic at hand. Besides, he waited until she was ready to talk about her past. She wasn’t about to do him wrong just because she was curious. “Back to the topic at hand. Our first few weeks as bounty hunters we did what most people do: we took escort missions. Pay was mediocre, but more than enough to get by. During one escort, the merchant we were defending was targeted by some Black Cleavers, a small pirate group that is almost exclusive to the Geral system.” Emerald shook her head. Then she opened a drawer on her desk, a different one than the one before. From it she pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. She took a moment to open it and pour them both a shot. “They’re professionals and fully equipped with brand new Argonauts. By all rights we should have been done and dead the moment they showed up. But not only did we live. We took them out, man to man. The merchant was so grateful and ecstatic he went straight to the BHA and sung our praises. Soon we were getting escort contracts from big league merchants. Those were going so well that within a few months of starting that we were getting exclusive bounty requests.” Emerald paused and downed her shot in a single gulp.

  The burn was intense and caused her to clench her teeth and let out a shaky breath through her nose. The fur on her face seemed to bristle with her breath. She then rapidly shook her head off with such force it would likely chase away evil spirits rather than just the haze brought on by hard spirits.

  “It was a good thing. Then Ace had to go and be Ace. Started railing Gwen. Pussy-cat fell head over heels for him. Couldn’t pass by one on the ship without the other attached to their hip. Which, yeah, it was awkward. But nothing to break up our team over.” Emerald stopped to pour herself another shot. “Then, as always with Ace, it got worse. He got bored of Gwen. Just like me and Nia warned her. You know what that hedonist did next?” She downed her shot. “He tried to proposition me. Nothing had changed; he was still the same lazy, hedonistic, egotistical piece of shit. Also, no, he wasn’t kicked off the team. He left, went right back to inherit daddy’s business. But he wasn’t satisfied.” The arctic fox shakily poured another shot. “He went to my dad, told him where I had been, and said he still wanted to follow through. So my father, my flesh and blood, falsifies my birth certificate to have me be two years younger, which would have made me a minor. He then gets half of the Federation looking for me to bring me back and pair me up with that animal. All so they could further the family name.” Tears started to form in her eyes as the trauma bubbled to the surface. “The only reason I wasn’t dragged back is because Uncle Oscar had a copy of my original birth certificate.” She went to down her third shot, but Evan caught her paw. Gently, he took the glass from her fingers.

  “Are they going to force you to marry Ace once we go planetside?” Evan asked wearily, downing the shot himself when Emerald averted her gaze.

  “No, legally it was settled when Oscar stepped in. The Strauss family was actually publicly reprimanded by Central over that. That doesn’t mean they won’t try something else. Try to slip some sort of collar around me. Make me some sort of fucking… trophy to trade so some senile foxes can brag how much they grew the family or furthered its ambitions.” The tears fell freely, turning the snow-white fur of her cheeks a murky gray. She closed her eyes tightly once she felt them, not wanting to look at Evan or for him to see her like this. “I’ve carved a name for myself in the galaxy through my blood and tears. I’m feared by pirates and filth throughout the system. But back home, I’m just some upstart breeding stock.” She hitched as she finished. Her breathing was unsteady.

  Then she felt herself yanked out of her chair. She felt a pair of arms wrap possessively around her as a chin came to rest on her head.

  “Don’t you ever put yourself down like that again.” Evan said softly into her ear. “Your home is here. On this ship with Ratchet and Nia. With me. There isn’t a single person worth a damn who doesn’t look at you with respect, or at us in envy at having you as our leader.” Evan then began to shake. “And when we go planetside no one will lay a finger on you. Not your family, not the Gerallian Senate, and not Ace. God help them if they try to.”

  “My dad called me once. Right after Oscar put forth my real birth certificate.” She sniffled. “Told me I was being selfish. How much suffering I was bringing to our home. All the jobs that they had to cut.” She couldn’t help but let out a frustrated yip. “You know he sent me videos of him and his managers laying off workers. Every single one of them having an attachment showing how my marriage to Ace would have increased resources and allowed them to keep those employees.” She said into his chest, her voice hoarse.

  In response, Evan’s embrace tightened. “It’s not your fault. No more than it’s their fault for not having or taking better opportunities. You can’t buy the salvation of others through your own damnation.” Evan paused for a moment, thinking hard about something else to add. “Think about every pirate you’ve put down, and every person you’ve helped doing what you do now. Every escort, every rescue, and even every kill all make this galaxy a safer place. Yeah, you put yourself at risk. But there’s a big difference between fighting back and putting the barrel in your mouth.”

  Emerald worked up her courage and pulled back ever so slightly. Not enough to break or strain the embrace, but just enough to see Evan’s face. She was terrified, scared she would find pity in his eyes. Instead, she saw a face of stone. A mouth forced flat and eyes saw nothing present, but instead stared at unseen enemies in rage. Had she been the planet-bound flower all had intended her to be, perhaps she would have taken a step back. Maybe she would have seen him differently. There was no gentleness in that expression. But she acted on a scale where lives were lost or saved by her actions. She was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take a life for a payday as long as it was a criminal. So no, she didn’t fear or back away. Instead, she felt secure, as if there was no place more stable in the galaxy.

  She reached around to return the embrace, but hesitated, not wanting to push Evan, but desperate to know how he felt. For more than a minute her arms hovered there, unwilling to take that test.

  “I’m not stupid, Em. I know I’m dense and can read a room about as well as a foreign language. But I know you well enough to know how you feel. I know myself well enough to know how I feel.” Evan paused, and Emerald felt his lungs inflate and deflate a few times, but no breath escaped him. Instead, he agonized to form the words he wanted to speak.

  Emerald decided to speak up instead. “But now’s not the time for either of us to act on those. I don’t know what the Senate will have us do, but with how much money is potentially on the table we can’t go suddenly changing the dynamic of our team. In spite of that, I want you by my side the whole time we’re down there. Until this mission is done, that’ll be enough.” She concluded as she rested her head on his chest, her arms still hovering over Evan.

  “Okay.” Evan said softly, disappointed at his cowardice.

  But Emerald was unwilling to leave it like that. So she finally returned the embrace, squeezing Evan’s form tightly into herself. She rubbed her face and nose into his chest and neck, making sure to stain him with her scent before they arrived at Geral.

  “Em?” Evan asked, confused and flustered, starting to let go.

  “Don’t you dare let go. You stand there and be hugged, you fucking wimp!” She snarled. “Women will smell me through your power armor by the time I’m done.”

  So Evan stood there, unable to form words and unwilling to let go, as his heart battered against his sternum like a landlord come to collect rent.

  The embrace stretched well past Emerald’s marking. Neither participant willing to break and re-erect the walls built between them. Finally, Emerald broke the silence. “When we land…” She started, but Evan shook his head.

  “When we land, I’m not leaving your side.” He said resolutely, the resolve in his voice leaving no room for argument. Not that Emerald had any intent to do so.

  “Do you need to finish up here?” She asked, referring to any unfinished business Evan may have on Horizon’s Dawn.

  Evan shook his head. “No. Only thing I need to do before we get to Geral is make sure my ship’s firmware is up to date and my quick start sequence is ready.” Evan moved to finally break the embrace, no doubt intending to go get that out of the way. But Emerald held firm.

  “Nia and Ratchet are finishing up their business. You’re staying, right?” Emerald commanded, the tone she took when giving commands during missions seeping into her voice.

  “Yes, boss.” Evan said with a chuckle as he once again brought his chin to rest on her head, the tops of her ears flicking as his stubble scratched them comfortably. Soon silence dominated Emerald’s office as they took in the unique comfort only the other’s presence could bring.

  .

  ~ Unidentified Installation ~ Two Weeks Ago - Core World Standard Calendar

  In the forgotten corner of an undisclosed solar system, a facility as black as the void sat in eternal darkness on the shaded side of an unturning moon. From the darkness of the solar system's edge, a small ship approached, docking on an unremarkable landing pad. From it emerged a dog-headed figure clad in power armor from head to toe. Disembarking, his approach to the facility was one of silence, the void of space offering no way for sound to travel.

  Soon he was inside the facility, and the heavy footfalls of power-armored feet rang rhythmically on the solid steel floors of the complex. As he walked, he was joined by two much more cheaply equipped Gerallians in military attire: a Chihuahua Gerallian who came up to his abdomen and a Bernard who stood two heads over him. The chihuahua, a woman of both small and large proportions, handed him a tablet while the Bernard followed without remark. Their journey led them down an undecorated metal hallway past countless unmarked doors. Soon, they arrived at an unmarked door, where the armored individual punched in a code on a keypad.

  Tsss

  A metal door slid open as a trill ring indicated the correct combination was entered. In the room stood a coyote Gerallian holding a set of pliers. Next to him on a raised table was a surgeon’s tray covered in utensils. It had cigar cutters, knives of varying lengths with and without serration, long needles, and even a steel file. Almost every single one of the tools was covered in the blood of the individual next to the coyote. The individual in question was a polluxi chained to a chair. The individual was missing all of his fingernails; in their place were weeping nail beds, sometimes pierced with the long, thin needles. He breathed raggedly through an open mouth, revealing that half his teeth were missing while others were filed down to bloody nubs.

  “Ahh, sir. I almost have him singing for me just a few mor…..” The coyote began, but was cut off by a raised hand from the armored individual.

  “You’ve had three hours and he hasn’t spoken a word of useful information. I think you’re just enjoying yourself. Go to your dorm. I’ll be taking over.” There was no reprimand in his voice, merely the statement of facts. Though the command was heeded as the coyote gave no argument, simply putting his pliers on the tray and wheeling it out.

  The armored individual looked at the near-broken polluxi and came down to a knee in front of him. “Here’s what’s going to happen: You’re going to tell me who the Fallen Son is. Then you’re going to see the rest of your crew and leave. It will be less emotionally painful for you if you tell me now.” The armored Gerallian stated in a flat voice, as if he were reading the forecast.

  The polluxi’s response was to spit at the armored man, who in response stood, looked to the Bernard, and nodded. The Bernard left the room, and the rest stood in silence broken only by the polluxi’s ragged breathing. A few minutes later the Bernard returned with a polluxi woman.

  The armored man turned to her. “If you want to save this man some grief I suggest you encourage him to talk.” The armored man suggested. But the woman shook her head as tears began to flow from her eyes. “JERRY!” She screamed, pulling at the Bernard’s grip to get at the injured man, her eyes wide with horror.

  The armored man nodded to the Bernard, who let her go. Instantly the woman flew to the bound man, and nearly threw her arms around him, but stopped when she realized it would likely just cause him more pain.

  “Tell him to tell me what I want to know. You have my word that your whole crew will leave this place unharmed after he gets the treatment he needs.” The armored man voiced.

  But the woman shook her head. “He can’t tell you!” She screamed, stating it like it was a fact. She opened her mouth to speak again.

  Pew

  The sound of a blaster rang. The woman and bound man both looked down to her abdomen where a hole now ran cleanly through. “That was a well-placed shot. I believe I hit her spleen, just narrowly avoiding her stomach.” The armored man explained casually as the bound man was now pulling at his restraints trying to get to the woman who had fallen to her side, grasping at the open wound. “Calm down. It’s not fatal if she gets treatment. Something I’ll give her if you just tell me.” The armored man rationalized.

  The polluxi man looked at the woman, who clutched her side in silent agony. He opened his mouth to speak, but the woman shook her head. “Jerry, please don’t!” She begged. The next moment, the armored man’s blaster was at her head.

  “Five, four, three,..” He started to count down, but stopped at three as he saw the polluxi’s will break.

  “IT’S A SHIP. FALLEN SON IS A PRECURSOR DAMNED SHIP.” He screamed, breaking his silence. The room went silent for a moment, before the armored man began to speak again.

  “Good, that’ll get her some treatment. Now I need to kno……” The armored man spoke, but was interrupted by a high-pitched ring. He paused to look at the polluxi man, who was staring at the woman with regret in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, honey.” The polluxi man stated to her. A moment later the ringing reached a crescendo before a small nearly silent pop was heard. The polluxi man slumped forward and seconds later blood leaked from his ears.

  “Now that’s a fail-safe.” The armored Gerallian stated sincerely, as if inspired.

  The woman in question gave off a despairing wail as she crawled over to the now-dead Jerry. The armored man looked down at her and noticed a bright gold band on her finger, one that matched the ring he had remembered seeing on Jerry’s hand before the coyote got to him.

  The armored man gave off a sigh and shook his head before bringing up his blaster and firing off a shot. Instantly the wailing stopped, and the woman fell onto her side, her lifeless eyes sporting a new hole between them.

  “Go ahead and get one of our infiltrators to start checking polluxi port manifests. Focus on the eastern fringe and core worlds. We’ve confirmed that Fallen Son is a ship. Now I want to know whose ship it was and why it had the monkeys in a frenzy.” The armored man said to the chihuahua.

  She brought a fist over her heart before dutifully leaving the room to fulfill her assigned task. The armored man began to walk toward the exit before casting a last glance over the room. He tsked to himself, shaking his head.

  “Have that damn coyote clean this mess up and ready the room for our next guests.” He told the Bernard, who repeated the chihuahua’s salute.

  As the large dog started toward the door, the armored man held up a hand. “Wait. When you see him, tell him the next time I find out he pilfered goods off of one of our guests, he’s going to teach me how to use his tools through self-demonstration.” The armored man growled, a small amount of emotion finally seeping into his voice.

  The Bernard nodded and they both left the room, each heading a different way down the long hallway. The Bernard hurried to fulfill his orders, while the armored man casually strolled towards his own task. If one were to listen closely, they would hear the armored man humming a well-known tune.