The Cleaner

As the party joins the Blues in spreading out to check out the fallen vigilantes, Blue Twelve proceeds straight to where the dark figure is holding Pru at bay with his sword.

"Why don't you finish her, dear master?" asks Blue Twelve impatiently.

"Because she is INNOCENT!" spits the dark figure in Her-Galad with a very strong Lyranell twang. He glances back over his shoulder. His eyes are no longer glowing, but with all the anger in them they might as well be. "She came here to rescue and protect one of her own. That's not a crime, is it?" He shuts off his sword (which then vanishes into thin air) and says to Pru in Yangae, "You. Over there." He nods toward where Mon'Fargret is tending to Vig. #1. "He needs help."

Pru looks ready to faint dead away in an instant, but she complies.

Blue Twelve is clearly shocked (and isn't the only one). "Dear master, what if she talks?"

The darkly-dressed person shrugs. "What if she does? She never gave the order to shoot. She never wanted to!" He gives Vig. #3's corpse a vicious kick. "This sludge-lump drew first blood in spite of her. By their own 'civilized' rules, that gave us every right to grind him into fertilizer. I'm sure she recognizes that." He glances at Pru and adds in Yangae, "Don't you?"

Pru looks up at him with fright, nods briskly, and goes back to assisting Mon'Fargret.

The dark figure turns his tangibly vehement gaze to Ham Sahladt. Surprisingly, he says something in Biton. Then he looks up and says (in Her-Galad again), "Blaghl, get the priestesses. We need them."

Blaghl bows and turns to go, but one of the Blues says, "Dear master, they're already coming!"

Indeed, one of the maintenance doors (the one on the right on the map) has opened, and Nekshi can be seen peeking out.

"Mon'Fargret," says the dark guy, "your friends are here. The way is open. Very good."

"Very good?" retorts Mey'Luskar half-hysterically in Her-Galad (the first time anyone has heard her speak that language) as she approaches, looking around at the fallen. "Very good?!? More blood on MY face!!!"

The dark figure looks at her, and his reaction is odd. His eyes widen for an instant, and then he looks away. "No," he says hoarsely. "Your face, and your soul, are clean. If there's any blame, it's mine." He looks over at the charred remains of the fallen Blue. "This is what I get for allowing myself to get rusty." He throws a vehement glance toward Nekshi. "And distracted!"

"But my..." starts Mey'Luskar in Her-Galad again, and then she gasps and switches to Yangae. "I knew some of them!" She takes a couple of steps toward where Vig. #2 is embedded in the wall. "Fel...she's...was...my friend!"

"Poisoned!" snaps the dark guy in Yangae, not looking at her. "She had the poison in her. Just like these two." He gestures toward Vig. #3 and Scan-helmet. "Any of them would have killed you in a second if they'd known the truth."

Realization crosses Mey'Luskar's face like a shadow. She puts her hand in her pocket.

The dark guy gestures understanding, still not looking at her. "She saw it, didn't she? With you?"

Mey'Luskar faints. One of the female Blues runs to her immediately.

The dark guy curses under his breath. Looking around, he says, "Fellows, here I'm known as The Cleaner. Welcome to my lair."

Visions in the Dark

(Illustrations may happen someday)

Ham and Mon'Fargret step out into the dim light of the main passageway and move cautiously toward the side passage where the scan broadcast was detected.  After a few seconds' pause, Mey'Luskar gathers her wits and follows, Dabid not far behind.  They arrive at the corner, and Ham looks at his scanner just in case.

Nothing.

"I don't think anyone's there," whispers Mey'Luskar.

"Allow me, my lord," says Dabid, and he steps into the entrance of the passage without waiting for a reply.  "The lady is right.  There's no one here.  But someone was here.  I can still see heat tracks in the cement."  He moves a short way into the passage and says, "There are stairs going down to a lower level.  Our visitor is down there.  But wait..."  He goes further in.  "This also connects with another side passage, and there are tracks there, too.  More than one set."

"We're surrounded," says Mey'Luskar.

***

The priestess resumes her tranquil smile.  "Well, telling me what you saw might help ensure that the mind-screw doesn't happen again."

Lirassa's lip curls.  Then she rubs the back of her neck, and her demeanor becomes calmer.  She takes in a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and begins.  "I saw what looked like a brown dwarf star, spectral type L.  I've seen dozens of them.  But this one..."  She takes another deep breath.  "Something about it just guadet me.  Especially when it turned into a great, big eye!  And that face...it...uh..."  Her breath catches.  A puzzled look crosses her face, and she taps the back of her neck.

"Your implant won't stop the fear," retorts the priestess.  "It's too much a part of what you are.  I know what you saw.  My sisters and I have seen it, too.  I don't know why you were made to see it.  Did the face speak to you?"

Lirassa shivers.  "Yes.  Something about gathering the true, or wha..."

"What language did it speak?" interrupts the priestess.

Lirassa glances at Nekshi.  "Yangae!"  She turns to the priestess again.  "It was speaking Yangae!"

The priestess gestures understanding and looks at Nekshi.  "You saw the same vision, didn't you?"

"But they don't use that language!" protests Kuluf.

"This one does," replies the priestess gravely.

Arrivals

The van sets down on the landing area, and immediately the guide lights dim.

Four figures approach the van a bit warily. Two of them are priestesses. With them are a boy and a girl in acolyte robes, both apparently in their teens and rather disgruntled looking.

The investigator immediately gets out of the van and faces the four. No words are spoken. They simply bow to each other, palms pressed together prayer-style, and then look at each other for a time. Then the investigator opens the middle door of the van and invites the party to disembark.

"This is where we part," she says, "at least for now. I'm told the senior priestesses are occupied. The junior priestesses here will look after you. Your rooms are ready." Then she looks at Granite Spear thoughtfully. "Shurian...right. You need moisture."

She and the priestesses look at each other again. Again, no words are spoken, but the priestesses clearly react with uncertainty, even horror. They stare at Granite Spear, look at each other, and then look at the investigator again. They bow in perfect sync.

The investigator turns to Granite Spear and says, "I'm told both the pond in the garden and the main bath are open to you if you like. But if you use the pond, please don't eat too many of the fish."

Constable Pal'dun, who has also stepped out of the van, says, "Here's where I take my leave, too. Promise me that you'll do what you can to protect her." Then he bows Hergoth-style and intones, "May the Entity smile on you." The investigator echoes the greeting. Then the two Peace Forcers reenter the van.

As the van rises into the sky again, the two junior priestesses approach. There is a moment of awkward hesitation before one of them bows Hergoth-style and says, "Um, welcome to the Yanda Branch Temple. Your rooms are ready." She gestures toward a nearby building that is obviously a dormitory. Then she and her partner look at each other strangely. After a few heartbeats she turns to the party again and adds, "If you'll follow us, please." Then she glances at Granite Spear. "Um, or do you...want to go straight to the pond?"

***
When Ham's scanner beeps, Dabid practically dives back into the way-nest.

Confronting Ham (rather like a small, purple deer confronting a grizzly bear), he hisses, "What are you trying to do? Advertise our position to the whole damned tunnel?"

"They already know," retorts Mey'Luskar quietly. "That's what that noise was, wasn't it? Someone scanned us, didn't they?"

Revelations

Without waiting for an invitation, the Farbett who identified herself as Gek'nork plods right over to the alcove where Widjgleeby is waiting with Zeton and Ham. Sticking her head in, she rattles off a steady stream of very cheery-sounding Somekh. Then she pauses, scrutinizing the way-nest's occupants with her eyes and sniffer.

"Well, how interesting may is!" she says in very awkward-sounding Her-Galad. "So this one is biggest Hergoth I ever saw definitely!" She sniffs some more. "Doesn't smell Hergoth, but." Then she looks at Ham, thinks for a minute, and says in Yangae, "This one is Ibitonian!"

"This one is definitely Yangae," puts in her friend, nodding toward the other alcove where Mon'Fargret is just now peering out. Then, after looking at Mon'Fargret intently for a few seconds, she bows Foldorian style (which looks decidedly odd in the person of a Farbett) and says, "This one wishes the lord good evening! Is the lady okay?"

"Mm?" hums Gek'nork. Then the two have a "quick" conversation in Somekh, after which Gek'nork bows, too. "Oh! This one didn't know she was in the presence of a Manager! We beg the good lord's forgiveness!" Righting herself again, she adds, "So what brings the lord and lady down here to the tunnels, anyway?" Then she looks at Dabid and huffs. "Come to think of it, why is this whole lot down here, anyway? This just isn't right! I mean, really! Are you lost? Or maybe hi-ding?" Then she gasps. "Oh, my! You're not down here robbing Farbetts, are you? Or is this a purge? Nola-haya! Widjgleeby, manedama-messa-dendama-sobabamut-messa-dendali-fakaborg?!?"

"No, we're with Widjgleeby!" says Dabid defensively.

Gek'nork eyes him warily, and then she says, "But no one comes down here! Except the workers, of course. Oh, and the Farbetts! The only other ones down here are only here to cause trouble...or run from it! Either way, it's not very agreeable, is it?"

"Unless they're with that Cleaner fellow," suggests her companion, "or his bunch."

***
(Illustrations pending)

The van circles around and approaches Erweina from the south. The mountain becomes an ominous-looking form as it blots out the lights of downtown Mul'ein, black except for the steady beacon of the temple on its crown.

"The arrangements have been made," says the investigator. "Accommodations are ready for you. It won't be luxurious, but you'll be safe and comfortable. Most of the staff have bedded down for the night, but there are people there to look after you. You won't need to worry about anything."

"Except maybe my sanity?" mutters Lirassa. She heaves a long sigh and leans on her elbow against the window.

The investigator glares back at her. "You have nothing to worry about! I promise that you'll be left alone!"

"The problem is going to be getting the others here," says Pal'dun. "If they're with her, they've gone deep into hiding."

The investigator pauses. "Indeed. Very deep." She closes her eyes. "She's in pain, too. And afraid. She has opened her senses, which means her companions know her secret."

Pal'dun clicks his tongue. "You can sense all that yourself?"

"No," replies the investigator, "but we can." With that, she reaches under her collar and pulls something out. A brooch on a chain.

A brooch of a low-ranked priestess.

Questions, Questions, Questions...

As the trio marches off to the flat under escort, an ambulance flyer arrives, settling down onto the street near where the Annuitis merc fell. There are also a few more officers on flyer bikes coming in.

The trio eventually arrives at the flat to find it already being examined. There are a couple of armed and armored officers together with a small team of investigators with ordinary uniforms and scanning equipment.

On seeing the trio, one of the uniformed investigators, a female, looks at them thoughtfully, and then shoulders her scanner and approaches.

"You are Nekshi, right?" she asks in (rather proper-sounding) psy-translated Her-Galad. "And you are Granite Spear?" Without waiting for a reply, she turns and starts pointing at the holes in the north and northwest walls. "These holes were caused by high-speed, small-caliber slugs," she reports with obvious pride in her own cleverness, "most likely armor-piercing types with delayed deformation for increased impact trauma. The trajectory indicates they were fired from outside, the vectors converging on a site where a damaged weapon matching the profile has been recovered."

She points at bloodstains on the floor in two locations, and her look becomes more intent. "There were wounded at these locations."

She then proceeds to the hole in the wall next to the door. "This was caused by a shattering effect. Carbon scoring on some of the debris indicates that it was the result of a spontaneous thermal shock wave, most likely caused by a pulse-laser or low-power, pulse-fired plasma or thermal device." Her brows furrow a bit. "It was fired from inside the room."

Lirassa yawns. And then glares back at the chorus of stares directed at her by the surrounding Peace Forcers.

The investigator maintains her intent glare for only about a second and then strides purposefully toward the south wall. "These two holes," she says, pointing, "with matching damage paths traveling through inner walls, cookware, and exiting the building, were caused by a hadron-baffling weapon with a tight disruption pattern, such as a pinlaser or a phased-energy weapon in linear disrupt mode. The vectors and damage pattern indicate that the weapon was fired from a position outside in the garden."

Clasping her hands behind her back, the investigator approaches again and stops directly in front of the trio. Fixing her eyes on Lirassa, she says, "You're hard to read. Resisting me won't help you." Glancing at Nekshi and Granite Spear in turn, she says, "From both of you I understand that my description has been accurate. I also sense that you were the victims of a pre-planned attack. The report given to us by the security officer here corroborates this, and though his opinion of you is, shall we say, less than favorable, he has personally vouched for you. However, I have three serious concerns." She gestures toward the hole near the front door. "One of them is the question of who shot first." Her brows furrow. "I see that it was one of your party, as I suspected. I sense that you believed you were in danger and that it was a defensive action, but this can complicate matters. Next is the matter of the other members of your group." She gestures toward the blood stains where Zeton was hit. "This one was a Lybolt. The other was Foldorian. Where are they?" She pauses. "Do they need medical assistance? I'm not seeing anything clear. You're not totally sure, are you? A dark space...hmm." She pauses again and then clicks her tongue. "I hope you'll tell me more, especially with regard to the third matter." She takes a step closer toward Nekshi. "How did all this happen in the first place? What was the reason for the attack? What w..."

Suddenly she gasps, and her eyes go wide. The other Peace Forces whose faces you can see seem similarly surprised.

"Wh-what is...your connection with..." begins the officer.

Then the door bangs open.

"I believe I have jurisdiction here!" cries a hoarse-sounding voice in Her-Galad with a strong Lyranell twang. The officer that steps in removes his helmet to reveal Constable Betham. He looks absolutely exhausted. He also looks about ready to peel someone like a banana. "If there are going to be any questions, I'm going to ask them, feel? And who in Ganneth's Grave sent for you R'weinaia, anyway? Answer me that!"

The investigator strikes a self-important pose. "Central Command," she replies flatly. "You were clearly occupied and unable to..."

"...occupied and unable to...," echoes Betham, mimicking her Ergothei pronunciation. "Yeah, yeah, I feel. Well, I'm here now, and this is my game, so stand aside!"

The investigator makes a Hergoth gesture of indifference and clicks her heels. "As you wish, Constable. Do you wish to see the report?"

Betham glares at her with astonishement. "Report? But you've only been..." Then he sighs and waves her off. "Later! Later! Right now..." He glances around at the holes and blood stains and gives a Hergoth gesture of annoyance. "Waste!" he hisses. Then he walks over to the trio. Glaring at Lirassa, he snarls, "How surprised...or not...I am to see you here! At least you're not stunned this time. Yet."

Lirassa snorts.

Then Betham turns toward Granite Spear, leans closer, thinks better of it, and leans toward Nekshi instead. "She was here, wasn't she? You know who I'm talking about! She was here! Flames, I warned Mon'Fargret not to get involved!" He gestures at the blood stain. "Now look what it got you! Nekshi, I know you're not the sort to court trouble, except maybe for a good story, but you don't know what you're messing with here!"

"Neither do you, Constable," retorts the investigator. "I don't think any of us do."

***

Mey'Luskar stifles a sob, sniffles a couple of times, and then says weakly, "I never did explain what this is all about, did I?" She sniffs again. "Is that why we stopped here? Okay. I guess I owe you that much."

Those in the party without night vision can't really see what she's doing very well, but it's clear she's messing with something in her pocket.

"In about two weeks," she says, "there'll be an advertisement for a special broadcast of the Second Chancers' club performances. They'll also say that there's a video version of it for sale."

She clutches the item in her pocket.

"This is it. And it's not what you think. It's much worse. Much, much, MUCH worse!"

She breaks into sobs.

The Aftermath

Granite Spear dives for the side door of the vehicle, which is standing open. As she does so, she's given a sudden, unexpected push from behind, sending her flying straight out through the portal and onto the sidewalk. As she hits the pavement and rolls out of the fall, the door snaps shut with an abrupt thunk and pressurizes.

Granite Spear, Ham, and Lirassa stare in surprise as the vehicle lifts off the ground, retracts its wheels, pivots, and shoots off toward the river.

Back in the flat, Widjgleeby lifts Zeton like a rag doll and tosses him over her shoulder. (Luckily, her spine doesn't poke him in the eye, but it does give him a jab in the ear.)

Mey'Luskar regards Dabid blankly for a second or two, and then she looks down her nose at him and says arrogantly, "After thee, blue."

Dabid sighs. "Yes, lady," he replies with a curt bow. Then he turns and heads out the front door.

The Rakh Hits the...er...whatever it hits...

There is a flurry of quiet activity in the room.

Ham Sahladt is reconfiguring himself in anticipation.

Mon'Fargret is thoughtfully eying the woman outside through the narrow opening in the door while readying his gear.

Lirassa is crouching, tensed as if to spring, behind the chair, the reconfigured hot comb (which no longer looks like a hot comb) clutched in her hand and a very intense look on her face.

Dabid is standing near the media terminal actively wishing he were somewhere else.

Widjgleeby, smelling all the tension in the air, turns her attention toward the room but keeps her bec-de-spoon raised.

Mey'Luskar is trembling, but her fears seem to be about evenly divided between the Farbett and the person at the door.

Nekshi takes a step backward from the door, still looking puzzled.

Zeton moves quietly toward her, intent on moving her still further from the door.

Heaven only knows what Granite Spear is doing.

Mira (if that is her real name), can be heard to chortle. Then she says, "Alright, then. Fools."

Morva Free Channel Evening News Update

Morva Free Channel
Your best source for local, planetary, and galactic media entertainment and information. Serving the civilized people of Morva with pride and a smile.

Morva Free Channel Evening News Update

"Good evening, lords, ladies, and people of the greater Morva area. I'm your host, Pa'Sallet."
"And I'm your hostess, Li'Moran."
"Good evening!"
"The people of Morva are shocked as a result of tonight's surprise drive-by shooting near Danstul' Station. A group of Hergoth youths was approaching the station when apparently they came under slug-weapon fire from a passing vehicle. Here on the scene is local correspondent Mai'Doppel. Mai?"
(Cut to on-location broadcast at Danstul' Station. There are a number of anxious-looking people milling about in addition to the usual pedestrian traffic.)
"Thank you, Pa. We're told that the Hergoth youths were all members of a local school hal'br'im team and were on their way to the Central District to celebrate a match victory when suddenly tragedy occurred. Witnesses say a single shooter opened fire on the group with a slug-thrower pistol, apparently at random, from a passing vehicle. The vehicle, a dark-colored Lemarvi (Foldorian-made wheeled car), was apparently stolen from a nearby parking lot and has been recovered by the police."
"Has there been any information on the attackers?"
"Well, witnesses say only that the shooter was wearing a visor, and that no one got a clear look at his face. It all happened rather quickly, and it's likely that the shooter was wearing a mask of some kind. There has been a bit more concrete witness information on the driver of the vehicle, however. Witnesses say it was a woman who was definitely neither Foldorian nor Hergoth. She was apparently a foreigner of a more large-bodied species."
"Were any civilized people injured in the attack?"
"No, they weren't, fortunately. The attack was concentrated only on the Hergoth. Two of the Hergoth are reported dead, and a third was seriously wounded but recovering at the witch hospital. The others appear to have been unharmed."
"This is all really...scary. I mean, attacks like this aren't supposed to happen! When was the last time there was a drive-by shooting of any kind in Morva?"
"Li, it was about eight years ago, and it did happen here in Ekr'im District, but it was a more gangland-related attack. A shooting like this directed at unarmed youths on a sidewalk has never happened in the history of the city."
"It doesn't give one much faith in the ability of the Ergothei Peace Force to keep us secure and civil, does it?"
"Well considering the Peace Force was unusually active today here in Ekr'im, it does have a lot of people wondering."
"I can imagine. Thank you, Mai'Doppel."
"Thank you, Pa'Sallet"
"And speaking of the Peace Force being strangely active in Ekr'im yet strangely lax in their duties, we go now to local correspondent Fon'Beloh in Artists' Square. Fon?"
(Cut to a view of Artists' Square)
"Thank you, Li. This is Fon'Beloh, Morva Free Channel News. I'm reporting from Artists' Square in Ekr'im District, where officers of the Ergothei Peace Force have been keeping people on edge all day."
"Could you please tell us more?"
"Certainly, Li. From early this afternoon officers of the Ergothei Peace Force on flier bikes maintained an unusually strong presence in the Square."
(Cut to shots of the officers on the bikes)
"No one knows why the officers were there. Some people believe it might be related to an incident this afternoon at a local cafe in which there was apparently a confrontation between Foldorian customers and a Hergoth gang. Apparently one of the Foldorians, a civilized local, was forced to fire a warning shot, and that ended the trouble. Rumors about that incident are already going around the Square. However, all indications are that the Peace Force officers started their stepped-up patrols even before that."
"Is there any chance that there's a connection between the incident at the cafe you mentioned and the shooting that happened over at Danstul' Station?"
"Um...I really don't know, Pa, but it doesn't seem likely."
"Alright. But what about these stepped-up patrols? How are they affecting the people?"
"In many different ways, Pa. If you look around me, things may look normal here in the Square, but there's a lot of tension in the air, Pa. Not only have the officers been hovering around on their bikes, but they've actually been attacking people."
"Attacked? Could you please elaborate?"
"Certainly, Mai. Well, first of all witnesses are saying that an officer shot and stunned a woman of uncertain nationality, apparently in the back. People are saying that the woman and a local punk had gotten into a fight, and a Peace Forcer just came up behind the woman without any warning whatsoever and shot her. A patrol car then came in after that and took the woman away. There's no word on what happened to the punk. But that's not the worst of it."
"What is the worst of it, Fon?"
"Well, we've had all kinds of reports that Peace Forcers pursued, cornered, harassed, and threatened a lord of the Manager caste in one of the exotic ethnic shops here."
(Cut to image of Mon'Fargret being interviewed in his shop, no audio)
"Lord Manager Mon'Fargret, seen here in the shop he maintains with his Annuitis servant in the Square, was apparently minding his own business in one of the many alien shops here when at least two Peace Forcers approached him in a threatening manner, held him at bay with drawn weapons, and proceeded to interrogate him while others in the store looked on. The lord says he was completely humiliated by the whole affair and suggested we ask the local constable for a full accounting of the matter. However, at the same time, he had this to say:"
(Audio fades in)
Mon'Fargret: "It would not be appropriate to comment other than to say that this is not the time for stark conclusions. Now, as much as I enjoy talking with you, I must get back to work."
(Cut to Fon'Beloh's sunny, highly-polished smile)
"One can't help but be moved by such stoic pride and civility even in the face of such barbaric treatment! Fon'Beloh, Morva Free Channel News."
(Cut to Li'Moran cooing with delight) "Our city is indeed blessed to have such excellent examples of true civilization!"
"Indeed! The Ergotheia haven't driven it out completely, have they? Not that they don't seem to be trying..."
"And speaking of trying, have any of you been wondering what has happened to all those people that earned Second Chance passes at the Yonba Talent Round-Up? Oh, come on! You know you have!"
"Well, look no further! The Free Channel is getting ready to release a special compilation showing the Second Chance pass winners performing as promised at prestigious venues here in Morva! There will be a special showing here on the net, and, for those that are interested, there will be a video release as well. In fact, the producers are saying that the video offers some extra-special entertainment that won't be on the broadcast showing!"
"Ooh, doesn't that sound exciting? Some of the Second Chance pass holders were pretty interesting! It would be nice to see what became of them!"
(There follows the usual promotional drivel for the Talent Round-Up)

Lirassa's Tale

Ham quickly pours Lirassa a stiff drink and then holds it out to her at arm's length. Lirassa snatches it like a donnar pouncing on a hiker and downs it in one gulp. Allowing herself a half-contented sigh, she hands the glass back to Ham without a word and then looks around for a place to sit.

"Oh, right," she says, fumbling out of her coat and handing it to Nekshi. She glances at Granite Spear, winces, and then plops into one of the simple but (definitely not) comfortable chairs with which the flat is furnished.

After a bit of moaning and wriggling her hips around, she gives up, chews her lip for a few seconds, and then says, "Um, you want to know what I did on the ship? The Fakrakkar?" [pronounced kind of like "Fush-rucker"] She tries to take a drink, realizes her hand is empty, and moans again. Then she crosses her legs and puts on an air of importance. "I was the executive officer! Number one after the skipper! The one whose job was to make sure the crew did what the skipper said! Yes, I did that." She takes a deep breath. "I also came VERRRY close to getting killed! I probably should have been killed." She sighs and shakes her head as unpleasant memories cloud her vision. "I still wonder how we got out of it. I mean, there I was...with my pants down...and this Alkan pirate sud...er..." She covers her mouth as her peach-white face turns Betelgeuse red. "Um...maybe he was...distracted...um..." She throws a horrified look askance at Ham and then buries her face in her hands.

"OHHH, I hate Alkans!" she moans behind her hands. Then she raises her face and looks anxiously around the room. "Weather Nose isn't here, is he?" Seeing that the notoriously loudmouthed Alkan isn't there, she sighs and attempts to sink lower in the chair. (She is not successful.) "Even that scary-looking, furry guy with sunglasses that was at Wirg's when I went back to get my..." She sits bolt upright. "Did you know the police stunned me? I outran that Yangae bimbo! Caught right up to her! Had her cornered! The little gidg was scared to brown! I was going to teach her some Besteeng honor! And then next thing I know..." She hugs her knees and shudders. "The police...said...that they...made a mistake! They said...they thought...I...was...someone...else!" She slaps both arms of the chair, winces, and tries to shake the pain off her hands. "Rakh! I thought Hergs read minds! But whatever skinny-assed, brown-skinned twerp came up behind me with a stunner..." The look in her eyes could probably stop a main battle tank dead in its tracks (or repulsorlegs, whatever...). "They said they were sorry! Gave me some tea and a backrub and sent me on my way! Ah...HERGS! So then I go back to Wirg's to get my stuff, thinking maybe I'll finally get some peace, and then fuzz-face in the dark glasses and his...his...Alkan bimbo sidekick...comes up to me and says, 'Hey, you da one dat chasin' da Foldorian woman, yes?' I was ready to tell this biktamma to go mate with a plasma furnace, and then his wench starts getting all in my face! OHHH...I hate Alkans! And Mr. Shades started getting really scary, too. They kept asking me who talked with that loyalist slut and if I was one of them. I told them what I knew, which wasn't much, and then that Alkan whore starts...licking...my...ear...." She shudders violently. "Then Mr. Shades says, 'Tank you for your be very cooperation," and he hurries out with his biktamig pink-skinned pet!"

She covers her face again and whimpers.

"And then Ham calls me and asks if I'm coming here!" she says with an irritable sigh. Then she glances up at Granite Spear and her eyes go wide. After that she looks around at everyone with furrowed brows and asks, "Aren't that Foldorian artist guy and his An-an-an-annuitis sidekick coming?"

Half the Battle...

Pt. I - At the Outdoor Marketplace

The (staged) altercation between Nekshi and Granite Spear reaches a high point; the Shurian reacts to the Zorlan's loud tongue-lashing by assuming a threatening pose, giving a retort that no one except Nekshi understands (since no one around them speaks Zorlan Standard), and stomping off. With a (very well played) huff, Nekshi storms after the retreating creature.

The people milling about nearby shrink back in alarm or confusion. If nothing else, the pair has certainly attracted a lot of attention.

While the "fight" was in progress, both Nekshi and Granite Spear noticed that a peace force (i.e. police) flier-bike was approaching, carefully easing into the crowd as if to pull up next to the pair. Almost right after Granite Spear's intimidating display, however, the flier-bike suddenly revs up its repulsorjets, rises up above the crowd again, and tears off in the direction of Artists' Square with its siren blaring.

Nekshi concludes that the ruse has worked. It takes her a while to bring Granite Spear to heel, however, as the Shurian has gotten a bit carried away and buried herself in the part (most likely one of those instinctive things). By the time they stop, they have left the marketplace and are now in one of Ekr'in's many narrow, twisty roads lined with small shops and flats.

"It appears that we have been successful," says Nekshi. "Now we must contemplate our next action..."

Then the pair is startled by a hissing sound in a nearby alley. Turning to look, they see a small, hooded figure standing there eying them. There is a bit of activity under its robe. The only thing stopping Granite Spear from tearing into the newcomer like a shark into a drowning goat is the fact that she has seen that little hooded robe before.

Kuluf croaks, and his translator says in Zorlan Standard, "I'm sorry. I was busy contemplating the way all these threads connect, and I didn't read your meaning. Did you want me to come with you? And why aren't we at the river?"

Pt. II - The Long Arm of the...?

Mon'Fargret doubles back to the boutique which he saw the loyalist woman enter. It is a fairly well-known Aragonese shop called "Llynfóramhyá" (pronounced hleen-FOR-ah-VYA). (Mon'Fargret vaguely remembers hearing somewhere that the name means "I like this" in the Soeki language.) Unfortunately, it is also a testament to the recent problems being suffered by merchants on Lyranell. The mannequins are dressed in all manner of exquisitely-crafted (if not very civilized) garments for men, women, and "female men" (another sadly uncivilized fact of Aragonese culture), but many if not most of the shelves are bare. A number of rather gloomy-looking shoppers are poring over what forlorn wares there are, mostly in the shoe, accessory, and handbag corners.

There is no sign of the loyalist woman.

There are two people, most likely the shopclerks judging by their dress, having an animated discussion near the employee door. One of them is a gold-skinned Aragonese woman. The other is a towering, gray-skinned Crygan woman who looks a bit out of place (but definitely not unattractive) in her Aragonese dress. After a little while an Aragonese man comes into the room through the employee door. The two women turn to him, and he shakes his head. They start to talk quietly, but then the man notices Mon'Fargret and nods in his direction. The Crygan woman approaches with a smile.

Although the Crygans are a powerful and very loyal vassal of the Foldorians, Mon'Fargret has never seen one in person before. She stands at least two heads taller than him and is completely hairless. Despite the gracefulness of the Aragonese dress she's wearing (which looks rather odd on the Amazonian Crygan!) she looks like she could probably bench-press a small car. Approaching Mon'Fargret with a smile, she bows primly in the Aragonese feminine style and says, "Llynergaáln váljhalé!" (A common Soeki greeting...which also seems odd coming from a Crygan.) Then, in very polite Yangae, she says, "How might I serve the good lord?"

Mon'Fargret fancies he catches a whiff of a very subtle perfume. It's faint, but it makes him go all tingly.

"Um..." he attempts, still glancing about for the loyalist woman.

"Is there anything in particular you're looking for?" asks the Crygan sweetly.

Funny she should put it that way, thinks Mon'Fargret to himself. His thinking seems to be going a bit fuzzy. Is it just nerves, the fact of the policeman hovering about outside, or is it just that he's talking to a woman who could probably tear him apart in a couple of seconds? No, it's probably the perfume. It's so faint, but so exotic...

"I know what the good lord might be thinking," the Crygan goes on, ushering him to one of the aisles, "but Aragonese men's wear is not at all like what I have on. It's both acceptable and fashionable in the Civilized Realm. I bid the good lord have a look!"

"Have a look..." mutters Mon'Fargret following after the giant, gorgeous woman. He has never thought about it before, but bald women apparently turn him on much more than he thought. And those muscles... Is it getting warmer in the shop? But why is he trembling?

"Is my lord okay?" asks the Crygan very quietly, a knowing grin on her face. She does a sort of turn, and the strange perfume becomes stronger for just an instant. Her dress brushes against him, and it's like an electric jolt.

Wait a minute...isn't there something he's heard about Crygans? Something about...uh...

"Here is a seat, my lord," she says into his ear, easing him onto a bench. Her breath on his cheek sends his glands into a frenzy. Her touch is deliciously warm and shiveringly frosty at the same time. Sheer ecstacy! If only there weren't all those people there! That simple store aisle could be transformed into a den of pleasure! But wait a minute...come to think of it, why was he there in the first place? "I bid you sit while I show you some of the fine garments we have available! I apologize for our shamefully small stock at present, but I'm sure we have something to suit the good lord!"

"I'm sure you have something..." mumbles Mon'Fargret, settling onto the bench. Yes, he has heard something about Crygans, but what is it? Total blank. Fog. Getting foggy. Getting FOG-gy...

"Now let's see..." says the Crygan musically. "Ah! I know just what would suit my lord! How about this?" She holds up a suit that looks like it's made of real leather. Dead animal flesh. But it's so exciting! "Such style and elegance! It would make my lord look so distinguished! And this shade of tolek brown goes so well with my lord's wonderful, red hair!" She runs the back of her fingers across his hair, and he shudders. "What does my lord think? Would my lord like to try it...OH!!!" Her solid blue eyes go very wide.

"Try it, oh..." mumbles Mon'Fargret. He hears the thump of boots approaching somewhere in a distant universe.

"Welcome!" says the Crygan in Her-Galad to someone behind Mon'Fargret. All sweetness has vanished from her character. Now she looks very uncomfortable. "Is there something we can do for you?"

"Armed police," barks a masculine voice in Her-Galad. "Stand aside!"

The Crygan does as she's told, and a helmeted Hergoth peace force officer comes around in front of Mon'Fargret. He's holding a stun baton.

"Keep your hands where they are," warns the officer in Yangae.

"Where they are..." mutters Mon'Fargret.

The officer pauses, studying him. Then, to the Crygan, he says in Her-Galad, "Did you pheromone him?"

The Crygan looks as innocent as possible. "Maybe a little. But I can't help it, can I? I haven't haven't done anything wrong!"

"We'll see about that," retorts the officer. Turning back to Mon'Fargret, he says more quietly in Yangae, "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" echoes Mon'Fargret. "Why...why..." He shakes his head.

"Tell me why you're here! Were you looking for someone? Did you meet with someone?"

"Um..." replies Mon'Fargret. The perfume is gone. His mind is finally starting to clear.

The male Aragonese shopclerk approaches. In perfect, melodic Her-Galad, he asks, "Is there a problem, officer?"

"Do not approach!" warns the officer holding out the baton. "This is a matter of the civil authorities, by right of the Holy Magistrate, and this man is under security quarantine!" To Mon'Fargret again, "Now, tell me! Why are you here?"

Mon'Fargret struggles to clear his mind. Wait...now he remembers why he's here! "I'm looking for someone!" he says.

"Who?"

"Um, the loyalist woman from Wirg's!" He says it, but he feels strange doing so. But why? It's the truth, isn't it! But maybe that's the problem. Then again, lying to a Hergoth was generally a stupid thing to do without some very good mind shielding.

"Why? Did you meet with her?"

Honesty was probably the best policy. "She was following me! I wanted to know why!"

"Is that all?"

"Yes!"

"Did you see her? Did she say anything? Did she give you anything?"

"No! I didn't find her!"

"I'll vouch for him," says the Aragonese shopclerk assertively. "A Foldorian woman came into the shop before he did. She ran straight through and out the employee exit. I couldn't stop her."

The officer turns on the shopclerk and lifts his baton just a bit. "Did she say anything to you or anyone else? Did she touch anyone?"

The shopclerk gestures negative in Hergoth fashion, a look of confusion on his golden face.

The police officer steps toward him. "Did she drop anything?"

"What...?" says the shopkeeper.

"Did - she - drop - anything?" spits the officer, carefully enunciating each word as he takes another step forward. His baton raises a little more.

"GOLD TWO!" comes a shout from the store entrance. "STAND DOWN!"

The officer sighs, steps back, and lets his baton drop.

A second officer approaches, throwing back his visor to reveal Constable Betham. He has his stun pistol in his hand, but he quickly holsters it.

"These people are NOT under quarantine!" he snaps at the other officer. To the shopkeeper he says, "I apologize for the disturbance. I think my officer here got a little carried away. Isn't that right, Gold Two?"

There is a sigh, and the other officer apologizes quietly.

"Now get back on your ride and look for the woman," says Betham curtly. When the officer moves to comply, Betham turns to the Aragonese and Crygan shopkeepers and says, "I think you have customers to attend to. If you don't mind..." They move off, and Betham sits on the bench next to Mon'Fargret. "I'm really sorry about that," he says with a deep sigh. "He's young, and we're all under a lot of stress right now. You and your friends aren't helping matters, either. I know you enough to know you're not wading in bad water, but do us all a favor. That whole business in Wirg's this afternoon? Just forget about it. It didn't happen. You had your lunch, and you went back to your shop. That's it. Just put the whole thing out of your mind. Promise me, okay?" He stands up and turns to face Mon'Fargret. "I mean it! Promise me! I can see it in your mind. You want to find out what's going on, maybe even right some wrongs. Am I right? I don't blame you. But you'd only make things a LOT worse. Just stay away from it. And if you see either of those loyalists or that gang of Blues, don't talk to them. Don't look at them! Just pretend they don't exist!" He lifts his arms, lets them fall to his sides, then starts to leave. Then he stops. "I'd really hate to have to bring you in stunned like that Besteeng woman." With that, he leaves the shop.