Services No Longer Required: Chapter 2: Orphan
This took longer than I expected, mainly because this series is being written differently.
Everything I've done before is stream of consciousness, then stopping when I feel the chapter is done. Now I write a full outline on what the chapter should cover, write it out, then cross out the bullet points as i get them done.
Anyway, here's chapter 2. Some consequences for Rohoka. We get the actual first introduction of the second main character, Chakat Sandstone, though shi'll tell you otherwise in being a Chakat. The Chakat main antagonist. And well we get what was implied to have happened to Sandstone's parents.
Services No Longer Required: Chapter 2: Orphan.
While not exactly common, or unheard of. Crime is not a stranger to the clan that runs the city due to its mercantile nature.
Yet, what appears to the outside observer, and the city guard. If the accounts of the Human Men-At-Arms told to the tan and brown Male Draco-Fox town-guardsman are true. This incident would rank up there as one of the worst crimes said town-guardsman has ever seen since gaining the guardsman class and taking this job.
He looks up from an enchanted piece of Iron-tree bark he was writing down the man-at-arm’s account on with his short clawed hand.
“So, the course of events are; You and your squad were out collecting supplies for the war effort. Specifically for the hero’s party. As you were walking down the street, looking for an open general goods store, since most of the town was celebrating their victorious return.” He moves his head to look up at the Human.
The Man-At-Arms nods, as the rest of his squad loiters nearby. In-between the scene and the other city guards keeping neighbors to this particular store and other curious onlookers at bay. A certain thief class hero not among them, nor anywhere in sight.
“When we heard a commotion, specifically yelling coming from inside the store there.” Picking up where the guardsman left off, the Man-At-Arms points to Zarith and Catox’s store. Their bodies lay on the cobblestone street, wrapped in now blood stained burlap, while a town-guardsman healer. A female Draco-Fox, of deep blue coloration, tends to Rohoka’s cracked rib, concussion, and broken horn, and broken claws. Though, not in that order as the horn and claws are an easy fix, and a concussion is something beyond her skill outside first aid.
The town-guardsman nods, pulling out a different piece of enchanted iron-tree bark then taps it. Fuzzy blue windows appear above it. “And upon approach to the front door, you saw a fight between one Zarith, the Merchant, and Catox the Clerk. Parents of Rohoka, age nine, no class, no known skills.”
He doesn’t say but does file away in his mind as evidence ‘for’ the fight and the man-at-arms story is that it’s rare that a registered den would only have a single child. Three children seems to be the normal amount, his own den’s blessed with four, and all four hatched, even five is more common than having a single child.
“That is correct sir.” The man-at-arms replies, purposefully answering like he would a superior officer despite knowing better and internally smiling.
“You can drop the sir, I’m not your commanding officer.” The town-guardsman quips. “At which point you heard the verbal part of the fight going on inside the store?”
The man-at-arms nods. “Yes, the male, um.”
“Zarith” The town-guardsman provides the name.
“Sorry. It’s my first time in Draco-fox lands. I’m not used to how you name yourselves. Anyway, Zarith blamed his mate for the fact they only had a single child, Catox blamed him because a skill the kid had, along with something about a class. That’s when we heard the sound of a cross-bow being loaded and Jeff.”
He nods to the wrapped up human remains in completely blood soaked burlap next to the two Draco-Fox bodies.
“Rushed in. We all saw why when we looked inside. In between the two was their kid, Rohoka. Catox had the crossbow aimed at Zarith, and Zarith’s long clawed hand glowed blue with a skill and his short clawed hand held multiple daggers. Jeff was able to knock the kid out of the way, but not before Zarith’s skill did that to him. That’s why the kid’s covered in his blood and his minor injuries. If we were allowed to have our own weapons in town, I could’ve at least had gotten the two to stand down with my own crossbow.”
The amount of acting of remorse on the Man-At-Arms face would, in any of the worlds his ancestors came from. Mark him as someone with acting talent. For it convinces those Draco-Fox’s who know human facial expression and all the humans in the crowd.
Nodding, the Town-Guardsman already has the mental image of what happened in his mind along with the most likely cause of the incident that led to three deaths on such a good day.
‘Kid must’ve learned a skill, or somehow earned a class before the coming of age ceremony next year since he’d be ten then and of age. A class they didn’t want for their kid. Seen it before, a den priding itself on being soldiers, having a kid gain a non-combat class and vice versa. The unusual thing is only having one child though. Maybe this Catox had something wrong with her?’ Suddenly remembering that their healer can do a basic skill’s check, he points to the human in front of him.
“Stay right here for a moment. I need to check something.” Ignoring the salute from the man-at-arms, the Town-Guardsman walks over to their group’s healer tending to Rohoka.
“Junior member Anther.” The deep-blue Draco-fox female looks up as her hands glow blue. Slowing knitting Rohoka’s cracked rib after she regrew the claws on Rohoka’s long clawed hand and fixed his horn.
“Yes sir?”
The tan and brown Male returns her look before glancing to the prone Rohoka. “You can bring up his personal statistics, right? I recall you listing when we contracted you for this position.”
She tilts her head slightly while twitching her wings at the odd request. ‘Normally I have to ask permission first.’ Only to comply to her superior’s order. Canceling her healing skill, she moves to cradle Rohoka’s head between her hands as the blue glow returns to them. Her superior stands next to her, waiting, for what seems like several minutes before something actually happens.
For a moment, Anther thought the skill wouldn’t work with Rohoka unconscious til a single blue window appears above the young male Draco-Fox.
Most of the information on it is not what the Tan and Brown colored town-guardsman is looking for, but as he reads through the screen. Tracing the words with his short-clawed hand, he mutters it quietly out loud to himself.
“Rohoka, age nine. Son of Zarith(dead) and Catox(dead). Condition, unconscious, injured(minor), Statistics look normal for someone his age, a bit stronger than my on nine-year-old son. There we ar.. what? Class: ????. and Skills, Dash, Mercantile eye, and another ????. Never seen that for class or skills.”
Sighing and closing his eyes for a moment, he waves his short clawed hand dismissively at the healer. “That’s all I need to know Guardsman Anther, you can go back to healing the poor kid.”
He doesn’t see the slight smirk on the human Man-At-Arms behind him, for it disappears the moment the Draco-Fox town-guardsman turns away from Anther to walk back over to him.
“Young Rohoka does have a class, even though my unit’s healer doesn’t seem to have the skill to reveal it. It’s rare, but not impossible for a particularly willful kid to get a class as far as a year or so before they officially come of age. This piece of evidence corroborates your story, and, lacking any other tangible evidence to the contrary. We’re going to go with it as the official story of what happened here, as tragic as it is.”
In another display of his acting prowise, the human Man-At-Arms feigns a sympathetic look on his face. Considering he doesn’t care, not a fiber in his being does after seeing this kid slice Jeff into confetti. He’s not seen a skill outside his superior’s that can slice through steel like that. “So what’s going to happen to Rohoka?”
The Tan and Brown male Town-Guardsman sighs. “Put with the rest of the war orphans and the ‘reject’ cubs the Neo-Chakona republic seems to like to dump on us every year. If I could, I’d bet my day’s salary he’ll be with the hoodlums from the orphanage steeling food from vendors like most of the others by next week.”
“He’s waking up” Anther interrupts as Rohoka takes a sharp breath in while opening his eyes. Pushing against the ground to sit up, only to feel Anther’s hands on his chest. “Not finished healing that cracked rib of yours, can you stay laying down for me little Rohoka?” Turning her attention to the juvenile Draco-Fox.
Seeing this, the Tan and Brown Town-Guardsman dismissively waves his short-clawed hand in the human like gesture of, get out of here. “Alright, you and your group may go. I’ve probably held you up a bit too long in your duties as is.” Then points to the edge of the perimeter his fellow Guardsmen have set up.
The human Man-At-Arms and the rest of his squad, seeing Rohoka waking up, make haste in vacating the area least he can counter their testimony. Causing the Guardsmen in the area to mistake it for their tardiness in their own tasks. Paying it no mind, the Tan and Brown adult male approaches the struggling juvenile as Anther has is having a hard time keeping Rohoka on the ground.
“Lay back down! I’m not done healing you yet!” Anther firmly yet gently tries, yet fails. To push Rohoka back onto his back as he forces himself up, trying to stand.
“I’ll kill him!, he killed mom and dad!” Rohoka shoves Anther back before putting his legs under him with intent of standing up to run after the humans. Thinking the man, the so-called hero who killed his parents is among them.
“Calm down kid.” The Tan and Brown Town Guardsman makes himself known to the two by speaking firmly. Hoping, and smiling when he sees it succeed, that his stern fatherly voice gets the young Rohoka to pause.
Rohoka looks over at the town-guardsman, who only looks down at him sympathetically. Said Guardsman gently moves, but firmly pushes Rohoka back down onto his back so, Anther can continue her job.
Long clawed hand holding Rohoka’s legs down, while his short clawed hand keeping his tail still. Allowing Anther to use one of her hands to hold Rohoka’s as she reactivates her healing skill to finish knitting that rib.
As she works, the Tan and Brown Town Guardsman swings his head to look Rohoka in the face. “You knocked on your head pretty hard kid, what do you remember happening?” His plan is to keep the kid talking, and thus distracted. Allowing Anther to finish her job.
Rohoka’s head moves to return the look as he focuses in on the town-guardsman. “The hero who just arrived today. The one in the cloak and hood along with other humans broke in and killed mom and dad. I got so angry that I attacked. Then he said something about this place belonging to his kind now not ours.”
The Town-Guardsman very slightly shakes his own head in dismissal this. Maybe if the kid didn’t get his head hit hard enough to knock him out for the time it took their unit to respond after the humans raised the alarm. He would put more weight into Rohoka’s story.
‘Maybe it’s for the better the kid thinks this rather than the last memories of his parents being them at each other’s throats over his class. Despite him blaming one of the recently summoned hero’s and unfairly accusing them of such an evil deed.’
“Sure thing kido, we’ll get right on it.” He lets a bit of his dismissive view of Rohoko’s side of events show through in the tone of his voice while giving a slight frown to Anther. She just nods in return to his look, already knowing what she needs to do.
“I’ll take him there personally sir.”
“Take me where?!” Again, Rohoka tries to stand, but is kept in place by the Tan and Brown Town-Guardsman who moves his head to look at the kid.
“You can’t stay here Rohoka, your not of age, thus you can’t inherit your parent’s property yet. Combined with the fact this is also a good location for a store. So the clan can’t hold it for you till next year when you ‘are’ of age either.”
‘Sad really, kids like this have to fall through the cracks just to prevent corruption via inheritance destabilizing our merchant clan.’
The town-guardsman stares in surprise and Anther backs up once being pushed off, as Rohoka in a surge of anger. Manages to push both of the adults off of himself, enough for him to sit up unimpeded. “I’m NOT going to the Orphanage. I’ll starve! Everyone knows they don’t get fed.”
Memories of him and his friends trying to help the nicer orphans last year surface in his mind, only for them to discover it was just another con the kids played. On top of how most of them just rob travelers or steal from vendors to eat every day regardless of how much he and his friends helped.
He doesn’t want to end up like that, not after earlier today when he helped the Milk Lady.
Anther and the Town-Guardsman pause, they both know how bad the town and thus clan orphanage is. Their hands and wings, for the former and latter respectively, are tied on the matter. Their contracts state that orphans of this age have to go to the orphanage. With no provisions about if it is overcrowded or if said orphanage can’t take care of them.
No one else will take them, and they both know it’s a weakness in their culture. Contracts that fail to expect the unexpected result in bureaucratic idiocy like this.
The Town-Guardsman sighs, lowering his head to be more at level with Rohoka’s as the kid looks up at him defiantly.
“I’ll be honest with you kid. You’re too old to be adopted by any relatives, or any other Dens in our Clan because you’re a year away from being considered an adult. They’d want a younger kid whom they can teach and shape into a productive member of their own Den. On top of that, you have a class already, which is another mark against you being taken care of by any other Den. They would rather have their children have classes related to their profession.”
‘And the main reason your parents are dead, getting a class neither of them wanted for their child.’ The town-guardsman keeps this thought to himself.
“I have a class? What is it!? Wait! Doesn’t that make me an adult, since only adults get classes?” The town-guardsman now has Rohoka’s full attention as he ignores Anther approaching him.
Said Town-Guardsman looks to Anther, who sighs. “You do have a class, but I’m not experienced enough in the skill I used to know what it is other than it being a combat class.” She then looks to the Tan and Brown Town-Guardsman.
“He should be healed enough the cracked rib and hit on the head shouldn’t cause any more issues even if I didn’t get a chance to fully knit the rib back together.”
The Town-Guardsman bobs his head once in a nod then, before answering Rohoka, calls out to the rest of his unit. “Pack things up, seal off the building so curious neighbors can’t nose around. We’re done here.”
Turning to the juvenile who’s about to poke him with his short clawed hand to grab his attention after not answering his question instantly.
“No it doesn’t make you an adult Rohoka. It’s also not unheard of for a juvenile, particularly one strong of will like yourself. To get a class before their coming of age ceremony and signing the Clan’s and Skulk’s social contracts. Binding you to their laws and the honor board.” He pauses and tries to place a short clawed hand on Rohoka’s shoulder.
Only for him to shrug it off as he glares up at the town-guardsman. Anger evident on Rohoka’s muzzle from the answer he didn’t want to hear.
“My advice to you kid, is just suck it up and take it. Yes life will be difficult now, but if you keep your snout clean, you’ll still get a semi decent standing on the Honor Board to start off with when you sign said contracts in about a year or so. So no joining those delinquents stealing from vendors and robbing travelers on the street, got it?”
A glance to her from the Tan and Brown town-guardsman is all that’s needed for Anther to walk up beside Rohoka. Gently placing a hand on his shoulder with a sympathetic look on her own muzzle grabbing his attention, allowing the Tan and Brown Town-Guardsman to walk away. Joining the rest of his unit minus Anther on their way back to their station.
“Mom and Dad didn’t kill each other over me… They wouldn’t… They loved me.” Rohoka looks up to Anther who only just smiles almost hollowly in return.
She doesn’t have the heart to tell the poor kid, that from the way her boss is acting. Zarith and Catox killing each other over his class and skills, is going to be the official story of what happened.
‘Then again, he did get knocked on the head pretty hard…’ She inwardly muses.
“We’re still looking into things young Rohoka. That still leaves where you’re going to have to stay in the meantime, so please follow me.”
Gently, she tries to get him moving with her with a nudge of his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. “What about my things? They’re all still in my room.”
Moving to stand in front of him, she places her other hand on his other shoulder and lowers her head closer to his. A caring smile on her muzzle, genuine, despite everything she has to do.
“Once we officially close the investigation, we’ll have someone pack it all up and return it to you. So how about this? If it makes you feel better, I’ll personally deliver your things to you when we get to that point.” Her tail twitches, showing that she’s only partially telling the truth on the matter.
She ‘will’ ask her boss if she’ll be able to, but she realizes that he’ll most likely say no. A Guardsman healer is a busy job. A high demand class to, as pure healers get snapped up as soon as they become one by travel groups, ‘adventurers’ and the military.
A highly trained healer can regrow limbs, and bring those on the edge of death back to life.
Not recognizing the ‘tell’ from Anther, Rohoka nods, relaxing his stance and loosening up. Allowing the deep blue female Draco-Fox to lead him through the streets, and past his gossiping neighbors.
Causing his ears to fall while his anger rises from them talking about how scandalous it is that Catox and Zarith killed each other.
Some even say they ‘always’ knew something was wrong with Catox because of all the clutches she laid, only he hatched. Along with gossip of what class he has that would cause this to happen.
Anther though, as much as she feels like she should speak up for the kid, since he isn’t, nor should he to be honest with herself. She stays quiet, the whole situation tugs at her heart-strings. Except she has to have some kind of personal detachment and not get attached to every hard-luck case her job and class run into otherwise she wouldn’t be an effective Guardsman.
It’s not long before they arrive at the orphanage for their town. If the growing crowds of loitering kids of all three species and the noise they make in the evening sun. Along with the over worked Draco-fox female priestesses of their skulks patron goddess are any indication of the location of the now multiple building complex. The new war against the Continuum ballooning the ranks of kids without parents the past few years.
Not to mention the increase in cubs from the Neo-Chakona republic.
Doesn’t help that chakats eat twice as much as a human kid at the same age and a bit more than twice compared to a Draco-Fox, Anther muses. One of the ‘privileges’ of being less than a weeks journey north from the northernmost border of their republic, they get their trash.
For his part, Rohoka stares at the various orphans, who, return the stare back at him as they all know who he is. Gossiping about what he’s doing here fully audible him. After all, he has parent’s, right? He’s the son of that den, which owns that general store, which has those sweet treats up front.
Orphans in front of the door for the main building move to the side unceremoniously, allowing Anther and Rohoka inside. They don’t even try to grab at the two’s pockets or pouches.
Controlled chaos greets them once inside the building proper. Priestesses wearing silver robes dashing around trying to herd toddlers and younger around, to keep them out of trouble. Some older kids, about Rohoka’s age try to help the Priestesses, to no avail. It takes several minutes of the two standing there before at least one of the Priestesses notice the two and approaches them. Giving up on stopping a chakat cub bullying a human toddler.
Her first reaction is to sag her shoulder’s and wings, then droop her head. “Another one? That brings us to ten children today! And one of them ‘just’ has to be yet another chakat… Wait, aren’t you Rohoka? Catox and Zarith’s child? What are you doing here, shoo. Go back home to your parents.”
Rohoka solemnly stares with not lacking anger at her statement before Anther replies diplomatically. “There was an incident earlier today, they’re no longer alive and Rohoka’s only a year from becoming an adult so…”
“So no relatives will take him in because he’s too old to raise to their standards, even if his grandparents are a similar class to his parents.” The priestess finishes for Anther, her frustration growing with each word.
“Great, which means no one will adopt him, so we’re stuck with him for a year. Do you have any other bad news for us Guardsman Anther? Or any more Orphans, as you can see we’re more than full up. He’ll have to go with the Chakat who just arrived today. And I already feel bad for sticking hir in that converted closet because we just can’t have them sleeping on the hallway floors per our contract.”
“Wait, a closet?” Both adults ignore Rohoka’s question about his new accommodation’s. His room back at his house wasn’t big by any means. It wasn’t an actual closet!
As the priestess speaks, Anther just lightly shies away from her, feeling bad about making what’s obviously a bad situation even worse. Still, there’s just one bit of information she has to tell her before she can go back to the barracks. Then have some time to decompress about how this entire situation is tugging at her heart.
“He, um, also has a class honored Priestess, though I don’t have the skill to read what it is other than it being a combat class. That’s the main reason we think his relatives won’t take him in and we’re dropping him off here.” Not that she, nor will the Town-Guard try asking them. If, as it looks, that Catox and Zarith killed each other over Rohoka gaining a non-merchant class. They’d rather not put him in another dangerous situation If his grandparents hold similar views.
The priestess throws her arms up into the air while flapping her wings melodramatically over her frustration. “Oh gods be damned then! There’s no way ANYONE will adopt him into their Den if he already has a class. A combat class you say too? Great, as if we already don’t have our hands and wings full of uncontrollable kids as they gain skills too.”
Lowering them, the priestess homes her gaze and most of her anger in on Anther. “Well go now! You did your contractual duty in dropping Rohoka off here. No need for you to stay here and see the results of your poor decision.”
Meekly moving her gaze between the other kids, Rohoka, and the priestess. Anther bows her head down as far as her neck allows in pure respect. Muzzle nearly touching her belly. “Priestess of the goddess of the moon, tides, and Den. Ceinassa. I thank you on behalf of the Town-Guard and the Clan for your duty.” With that said, Anther makes haste out of the orphanage. Fleeing the angry gaze of the Priestess.
Leaving Rohoka to just meekly stand there, looking up to the Priestess as Anther’s statement does nothing to better the priestess’s mood over the situation. She just deflates on the spot as she turns to look back down at Rohoka.
“Well, come on then! I’ll take you to your room then you can go do whatever you want rather than behave. Not like any of the other orphans listen to us lately.” She doesn’t even wait for Rohoka to say anything nor any indication he’s ready to follow her.
Forcing him to jog to catch up to her, dodging out of the way of the other kids barreling around the room. Not to mention the other Priestesses trying, and failing to keep them under control.
“Not that it matters, because we don’t get enough food to feed everyone from the Clan. But, if you by some miracle of our Goddess end up being able to get to the kitchen before everyone else. You’ll get a breakfast at dawn, no later. Then a dinner at dusk, same as Breakfast, no later. Miss either and you either go hungry or steal food like the rest of them.” She leads him down a bare iron-wood hallway. The natural sheen of the wood worn from years of occupancy of the building. Around a corner, up some narrow stairs. Only stopping in front of narrower than normal door on the second floor.
Looking at the door then back up to the priestess, Rohoka lowers his ears again. He’s about to ask why, only for the priestess to open the door. Revealing a tiny room with two straw and box beds taking up all but about a foot and a half bit of floor space between them. Each one shoved to the side against the wall.
The familiar looking head of the Chakat cub he saw earlier rises up from the bed on the left to glare at them with puffy eyes, followed by hir upper torso. Held up by hir upper arms, the sandstone colored and patterned cub with black lines running along the contours of hir body fully visible in the candlelight of the two candles in candleholders nailed onto the walls well above both kid’s reach.
“The right bed’s yours.” The priestess dryly states and idly pushes Rohoka into the room. Shutting the door behind him, he has to grab the edges both beds to prevent himself from falling over onto the tiny patch of visible floor.
“It’s you…” Sandstone lays hir ears back at the sight of the Draco-Fox who refused to help hir.
Rohoka raises his and moves to sit on the other ‘straw’ bed. Instantly realizing it’s barely even soft enough to be called a ‘bed’. “You’re the one those two Chakats were dragging.”
“And you ignored me looking at you for help.” Sandstone retorts, moving to long-sit on the bed before wiping hir nose with the back of one of hir hands. Leaving snot on the fur on the back of hir hand.
“Well, yea! Everyone knows you Chakats manipulate emotions to get what you want. Mom and Dad…” Rohoka goes quiet for a second as it’s still a fresh wound that they’re dead. That he’ll never see them again.
“Told me to watch out for it no matter what.”
His ears fold back as his tail thumps against the wall, showing his agitation as his sadness turns to anger. ‘Though if I had this Dragon Claw skill I used to try to kill ‘him’ when they picked me up like that, they wouldn’t have been able to do it.’
“I’m not a Chakat…” Sandstone meekly says to no one, tears not coming even if shi wants them too.
“I’M NOT A CHAKAT!” Shi then yells at the young male Draco-Fox in front of hir. “Those ‘were’ my Dame and Sire.”
It takes a moment for Rohoka to remember his lessons from his parents about Chakats, that Dame and Sire are the ‘Chakat’ terms for Mom and Dad respectively. Apparently they can be both, which he found weird to be honest.
“You look like a Chakat to me.” Quipping back at hir.
“Why are you ‘here’ though if your parents are ‘still’ alive?” His glare at sandstone contains no small amount of jealousy and anger over that fact. How can shi be here looking so miserable when hir parents are alive! His are dead, killed by that Human ‘hero’.
“Those were my parents! But something happened to them. Changed them!” Hir head lowers as shi tries to cry some more, but tears still won’t come.
“I mean… I could tell by their faces they weren’t happy after the tester said I didn’t have any empathy talent weeks ago.” Raising hir head, she stares back at Rohoka with an equal amount of anger.
“BUT they still loved me! I don’t know what happened to them after seeing the president, but they changed! That wasn’t them. They would NEVER do this to me, they’d never strip me of my clothes and drag me here just to leave me.”
“We’ll if they were, they did do it. You’re here in our Clans orphanage!” Rohoka bites back at Sandstone. Channeling his anger at the death of his own parents at hir.
“Along with me… With to many for them to feed.” He glances at the door, then back at hir. As shi snarls, those lines in hir fur lightly glowing as shi shows the teeth in hir muzzle.
‘Shi has a skill?’ Is the thought that crosses Rohoka’s mind before his body reacts to it, his long clawed hand starts glowing red. Talons sharpening, lengthening. As Sandstone raises hir hand, those lines in hir fur glowing. The glow moves to said hand as air starts to coalesce in the palm of it as well as a simple circular magical array.
Shi just wants this Draco-Fox to shut the hell up! He’s here in this place with hir, so his parents either left him or died, why should he act so righteous! So before shi knows it, shi’s using this talent shi has instead of ‘empathy’ to form something that would wipe the look off of Rohoka’s muzzle. Only to stare at Rohoka’s red glowing long clawed hand.
Watching the claws slightly lengthen, and become sharper. ‘He has a skill?’
“Air-Shot” Sandstone speaks.
“Dragons Claw” And Rohoka says at the same time.
In the tiny closet, Rohoka reflexively jabs his skill augmented long clawed hand into the bundle of compressed air Sandstone shot at him. Both skill and spell feed off each other, causing the spell detonate in a loud whomp sound. Rattling the door, and sending both nine-year-old cubs against the left and right wall respectively from the shockwave.
Only to land in a heap on the straw beds as some cracks form in Rohoka’s nails on his long clawed hand.
If the orphanage was any less chaotic, the noise this caused would’ve drawn in the attention of all the adults. Yet, with all of them busy trying to wrangle multiple times the amount of children they’d normally have. Both Rohoka and Sandstone aren’t even checked in on as they lay there with the air momentarily knocked out of their lungs.
Earlier that day in the Neo-Chakona republic capital city.
Short sitting on a luxurious pad behind what was at one time in the ancient past, the captain’s ready room desk. In what was the captain’s ready room and quarters at that time, but is now the office of the president of the Neo-Chakona republic. A white and black dalmatian patterned Chakat stares out of the transparent Titanium window to the city below which has grown around the former Civilian Spaceship Star-Hopper.
Built as two concentric rings with a third partial ring on the side of the ship shi’s on. Each separated by walls and various armed checkpoints between them. At the center lays the remains of the commercial passenger-liner their kind arrived in all those thousands of years ago. Whatever plucked them out of their universe, lopped off the flattened and elongated oval-ish shaped ship’s warp nacelles and removed the warp core. Like how one would gut a fish here, or back on Chakona shi muses.
Hir gaze lowers to the closest ring to the ship, the cleanest and most advanced part of the city. Made from temporary pre-fab structures any ship which is chartered to start a colony would carry. Now with well-developed and thick greenery on the roofs, a style they’ve brought from what was supposed to be ‘their’ home.
Shi snorts angrily at this. ‘That planet was supposed to be ‘ours’ no one elses…’
They’ve long since been made into the permanent buildings, having been reinforced either through the use of no longer needed internal decking of what’s left of the ship. Or by materials they were able to fabricate before the last fusion core in the ship died. The force who brought them here left only that part of the ship’s power systems. Until they all went cold from lack of fuel, materials, and maintenance. After all, they had to fight the Continuum, and the Draco-Fox Skulk who summoned them.
The Dalmatian patterned Chakat eyes a locked drawer, containing one of the last few working computer padds as shi’s still weighing the offer that was deposited on it via ‘magical’ means. Only to shake hir head and put that thought away for later.
Shi is happy that they now ‘have’ the materials to fix them, all from the mining colonies on the southern ‘ovalish’, if you squint, shaped continent. Yet, they now lack the ‘power’ to use the replicators to shape them it into the right parts to get them running again.
A catch-22 shi plans on solving, somehow.
Putting that thought away for the moment, hir attention goes to people watching in the city bellow. High e-3 talent Chakats mingle with e-4 talent, and the now not quite rare, e-5 talents. Their talents can be determined even from the top deck of the ship via the quality of the clothing. Shi made it so the jobs they’re allowed to have are based on their empathy rating.
The higher rating you have, the less menial and better paid your job possibilities are.
‘Won’t be long now. A few more generations and we can move the e-3’s to out of the city proper. They can join the abominable e-2’s on their last generation.’ This is where hir gaze lands next. Just beyond the metal and concrete multi story wall surrounding this part of the city closest to the ship, to the middle ring. Their lays a more chaotic, rougher, and older looking buildings. A far cry in style and structure to the civilized kind.
Mainly because it was built using the ancient methods of the native Draco-Foxes. Sticks woven into wall panel’s, some hone’d timber to frame the structures that would collapse beyond two stories. All covered in a disgusting mix of mud with a high amount of clay, and manure from the pack animals they use because they’re banned from using the limited amount of motorized transport. Then covered in lime-wash, so a simple rain won’t dissolve the walls.
Outside that? Hir mind dredges up memories of what those ruins looked like back then. The home of the Draco-Fox skulk who summoned them.
‘If they’d only just given up their home for us, they'd have decedents who would still be living here.’
Activity at one of the gates between the inner and middle ring draws hir attention. Some shir tried to take a civilian motorized vehicle out of the first ring into the second via a gatehouse, only to be turned back. Shi makes a mental note of the chakat’s fur coat who thought they could just casually take it between rings.
A knock on what at one time was an automated door, now with a bolted on handle. Draws hir attention away from the window and the scene of brazenly ignoring hir laws. Turning, shi leans hir upper torso forward onto the desk while folding folds hir arms in front of hir.
“Come in.”
The chakat on the other side grabs the handle of the door and slides it open. The unpowered mechanism is well maintained, allowing the heavy door to be smoothly slid open. Even if shi has to brace hir four legs against the floor plating and strain hir upper torso to do it.
They were never designed to be opened manually like this, only in emergencies after all.
“I have the reports you wanted to see Shir president.” The secretary, wearing only a professional blouse on hir upper torso. And a matching belt between hir upper and lower torsos connected a pair of saddlebags on hir flanks enters the room. Hir olive drab fur showing a bit of a lite sheen from the light streaming in through the windows while pulling the three ring bound paper report from one of hir saddlebags.
The president of the Neo-Chakona republic watches as shi short sits in front of hir desk before opens it. Eyeing the stack of archaic paper inside with disdain.
‘No, come to think of it. Getting the computer core and all the terminals back up and running outside just keeping critical archives running, ‘that’, should be next. Won’t have to risk so many knowing things they shouldn’t anymore. Disposing of the guards and my secretary after each use won’t be necessary then. It’s been so much of a hassle the last few times to keep them in line till I had to do so.’
The Secretary clears hir throat before opening the folder for the first report.
“Well, the first matter of business Shir President. Our first shipment of uranium from new penal colony arrived yesterday. Purity of the ore is higher than we initially expected, so we may be able to refuel more than fission reactor one. If this continues, we may also be able to lift some power restrictions for the city.”
This genuinely puts a smile on the Dalmatian patterned Chakat’s muzzle. It speeds up hir other plans. “Good, That puts us ahead of schedule for re-powering some systems on the ship too. The Olive drab chakat hands hir that portion of the report, allowing the President to skim the handwritten report before shi places it face-down on hir desk.
“Send word back to the colony to up production, if possible. If they need more labor to do so, all they need to do is ask. Considering recent events and the next report I wanted you to bring.”
“Noted.” The Olive drab Chakat comments dryly, pulling a pen out from one of waist hir pouches to mark hir orders down on the outside folder.
“Next. The last of the smuggler groups were arrested yesterday in an underground room they dug out under the ring one wall. We were able to reacquire quite a few defectives slated to be sterilized and euthanized, not quite as many as went missing though. So they must’ve been able to dump them somewhere in one of the nearby Draco-Fox Skulks or outlying Elysengrad villages before we arrested them.”
Shi looks up to hir boss as a part of hir has an emotional disconnect with what shi just said. For all of but a moment, there’s actual sympathy for the cubs despite their lower Empathy talent rating, all before it’s smothered and the sympathy is replaced with disdain.
‘No, they’re an affront to our perfect genome. They must be culled for their imperfection for the betterment of us all.’
The Dalmatian patterned Chakat lets out an audible sigh, for what shi just did with the Olive drab colored Chakat in front of hir, ‘and’ still growing population outside the republic. All outside hir control despite the efforts over time to squash such movements.
‘Just means when we get the fusion cores running again. We’ll have to start churning out better weaponry for another war, the current stuff, while orders of magnitude more advanced than anyone on this planet even has. Isn’t advanced enough to deal with those damn skills the powers that be grant these beings, let alone magic. Sigh, also going to have to figure out how to sell such a war. Or it will make handling my ‘successor’ when I turn one hundred harder to mold for ‘that’. Speaking of molding, I thought I had my secretary conditioned enough for this not to happen. Wonder what broke it. Shi ‘almost’ felt sympathy for those defective wastes of fur and flesh.’
Raising one of hir hands, shi just dismissively waves it in the air at hir secretary. “Just send the standard ‘they’re our citizens you must return them’ letters to the neighboring skulks and those Elysengrad villages. Doubt they’ll return them like the last hundred or so ones we’ve sent to their leaders.”
“Of course shir president.” Again, the Olive Drab colored Chakat notes what shi said down on the outside of that report’s folder and placing the paper from inside on the desk between the two.
If anyone else was looking in on this conversation, not only would they risk execution for not being authorized to be there. They also wouldn’t notice the slight hesitation the Olive drab colored Chakat shows when taking out the largest of the reports the President asked for hir to get.
Hesitation that isn’t missed by the Dalmatian patterned chakat in the slightest.
The Olive drab chakat clears hir throat lightly before continuing. “Um, the last report you wanted is of this year's batch of cubs that are old enough to start showing their empathic talent.” Opening up the folder causes a spike of worry to run through hir, no matter how much shi tries to hide it from the Dalmatian patterned Chakat in front of hir. Bad news is not a good thing to tell the President when its become standard policy to possibly shoot the messenger upon delivery of it.
Feeling the president’s eyes bearing down at hir, the Olive Drab Chakat looks up. “It is as you predicted yourself Shir President. We no longer have to worry about the imperfect e-2’s here or the outlying villages anymore. Only one cub had this disgracefully low empathic rating in the entire Neo-Chakona republic, and shi’s been euthanized per our laws. Hir parents have been sterilized as well. They happened to have lived here in the capital, so the parents have been moved to the second ring per your policy as well.”
The Dalmatian patterned Chakat smiles. “That’s actually good news. Start drafting a logistics plans to move the e-3’s from the inner ring to the second ring in the capital, and the e-3’s from our other settlements to the penal colonies in the southern continent. Still, how many remain in the outer ring in our fair capital though? The rest of the remaining e-2’s allowed to still live there with the skill infected individuals per my predecessor’s decree?” Shi taps hir claws on the desk impatiently.
Not at hir secretary in front of hir, it’s directed at hirself. ‘That was a mercy and a mistake on my part a couple of uses ago. The e-1’s handled this with dignity not long after I started this, the e-2’s though. They helped start and fueled the underground movement of the ‘defectives’ out of Neo-Chakona. I’ll just have the e-3’s executed once we reach that point.’
With a hard swallow, the Olive drab Chakat continues. “Compared to the last report. There’s been an explosive growth of e-6 rated individuals. Ignoring the fact this growth was from one to four individuals with that talent level this is a good sign. As for the parents, all except for one pairing, were of at least e-4 rating.” Shi pauses the normal routine for a moment to answer the president’s question.
“Concerning the remaining living e-2’s and the skill infected regardless of rating in the outer ring, left there by your.” The Olive Drab chakat secretary fumbles on the word for reasons other than pronunciation.
“Predecessor.” Before continuing.
“Four-hundred individuals total. Divided into three hundred skill infected, one-hundred e-2’s with the youngest of them being in their nineties. Keep in mind, we ‘still’ do not have a method of detecting if someone has a skill outside them openly displaying they have it for all to see. Conservative estimates show as much as seventy-five percent of the population may have a skill.”
The dalmatian patterned chakat President nods and waves hir hand for the secretary to continue. ‘No dna markers, no unusual energy readings. If I had to guess, most if not all of us are infected. Maybe if we can get the ship’s sensors back up and running with the fusion cores we can find something. Or some way to remove it from those that really shouldn’t have them.’
Shi flips the page of a report far to thick for what its contained so far. “E-5’s continue their upward growth. They’re now in the mid-single digit thousands of individuals. Still a minority, compared to the majority of this year’s of age cubs, all testing at various strengths in the range of E-4. Despite this, they’re still up from the historical amount at the start of your presidency shir, which is a good sign your plan is working.”
Placing this, and only this paper onto the president’s desk, the Olive drab colored Chakat secretary slowly tries to close the folder. Leaving the rest of the paper inside and the bad news with it. Hoping the president’s too distracted by the conversation so far, and hir placing the paper on hir desk to notice this amateurish attempt to hide the rest.
“And the rest of the report in the folder?” The dalmatian patterned Chakat taps the just placed paper, having read it with just a glance and seeing that the chart on the bottom of the page only accounts for all but point zero-one percent of the data. Causing the Olive Drab Chakat to audibly gulp, fear racing through hir nerves. Slowly, with a shaky hand, Shi opens the folder back up having no way or will to lie.
“There is… Um.. One anomaly. An e-0 shir…” The Olive Drab Chakat braces to hear the President yell. After several tense second’s, shi opens hir eyes and looks over at the Dalmatian patterned Chakat.
Only to see the President’s left side ear and eye twitch in sync with each other. ‘An E-0 cub… How? We eliminated Chaka-mil DNA within the first couple of generations here. Even they though were more or less E-1’s and despite their attempt to run.’
“Please explain this, impossibility to me Shir Secretary. Because, and correct me if I’m wrong here. The Cub in question has not lost their mind from the lack of the empathic feedback we, as a species, need to stay sane.” The Dalmatian patterned Chakat ear stops twitching, but hir eye does not. Nor will it till this is explained to hir as hir words drip with ice.
The Olive Drab Chakat stammers incoherently to try to reply. Terrified from the tone in the President’s voice.
“Out with it Secretary!” The Dalmatian patterned Chakat yells. The frustration at not getting an answer quickly showing on hir muzzle.
“We do not know Shir President!” The Olive Drab Chakat cowers into a long-sit in front of the desk. Covering her head and face with the folder.
“To confirm the Cub, Shir Sandstone was an E-0. We separated hir from hir parents and placed hir in a room designed to block all empathic signals. Least shi’s staying sane through some latent maternal connection to hir dame.”
Frantically shi opens the folder and leafs through the paperwork to pull out photo’s to toss on the desk showing the process of them isolating the cub and how Sandstone reacted to the isolation. Each one taken hours apart while Sandstone wails to get back to hir parents.
Then acting as any bored cub would when alone for hours upon hours.
“And shi didn’t lose hir mind after such a long separation?” The President examines each photo, dismissing them in turn by tossing them back onto the desk.
“No, shi didn’t. We gave up after it became obvious nothing was going to happen after nearly a day. Other than shi would just get even more frustrated at hir isolation from hir parents of course.” The Olive drab chakat quickly answers. Hir body language showing shi’s fearing for hir life, if for some reason the Dalmatian patterned Chakat wasn’t paying attention with hir empathic talent.
Putting down the last photo onto the rest, forming a loose pile. Shi turns hir gaze to Secretary. ‘Okay, now I get what happened with hir conditioning. This is what broke what I worked on to make sure shi doesn’t talk, the sight of a distressed ‘defective’ cub. Here I thought an e-6 rating would imply what I did was more permanent.’
With hir eye twith under control, shi places hir hand on the desk in front of hir. Palms down, fingers together, but claws extended.
“We both are Empaths. So we both know this isn’t the full report. What else is there?” Tone laced with ice and the threat that the Secretary in front of hir should just come clean with all the information if shi knows what’s good for hir.
Shi lets this hang in the air for a few moments, letting the silence in the room do more than any words can before continuing.
“The Defective cub and hir Dame and Sire are still alive, aren’t they? Despite that cubs with E-2 or less by law have to euthanized, and the parents of an E-1 or less have to be as well.” Hir eyes bore into the Olive Drab Chakat for only a few moments before the Secretary meekly nods. Placing the rest of the open folder’s contents onto the table. More papers and Photos spill out of it onto the President’s desk.
“Not… Not For lack of trying Shir president! We lost two highly trained doctors after somehow even with years of experience, they stuck themselves with our execution chemical cocktail rather than the cub and hir parents through sheer dumb and bad luck. The one that can shut down our toxin resistance to allow the rest to work.”
Shi does, shi made sure it was kept rather than lost in place of a few drugs they had in storage before having to shut down the medical bay. It’s a highly classified state secret now least someone with an alchemist class outside the Republic gets their hands on it. Then use their class skills to replicate it, thus giving the Draco-Foxes or Humans the means to wipe them out.
The Dalmatian patterned Chakat’s ear starts twitching again over the situation.
The Secretary continues fearing now leaving anything out will cost them their life. “The Soldier who we had try to shoot them in the back of the head with a pistol was badly injured after the attempt. That gun never jammed or backfired before, yet when shi tried to execute the cub, it jammed, backfired, and set off its entire magazine as well! Taking hir hand and half hir fore-arm with it. We set up a remote firing mechanism next to rule out self sabotage. No matter the firearm placed in it. It would always jam differently after each attempt. We stuck all three into a sealed and shielded room to pump the vapor version of the chemical and a lethal gas. That’s why the HVAC system for deck six exploded. Poisoned food would end up with the cook or the deliveryman dead or the food somehow never arriving at their cell at all.”
Picking up the paperwork and photo’s the Dalmatian patterned Chakat leafs though the photo evidence of each attempt. Confirming what hir secretary in front of hir just blurted out in more detail. Shi Examines each photo before placing them in a neat pile, looking at the Olive drab Chakat.
“Where are they now?” Shi moves the report to the pile of stuff shi’ll shred later. Again lamenting the lack of power. ‘Secure deletion is ‘so’ much faster and easier.’
Fiddling with hir hands the secretary gulps. “I, um, I took the prerogative, and had them confined to your personal cells on deck three. Not anywhere near the others you’ve detained shir president.”
As shi speaks, the Dalmatian patterned Chakat stands, and walks slowly over to hir. Hir mere presence causing the other Chakat to flinch, both knowing what shi’s capable of. The Olive drab Chakat already feeling the empathic pressure from the other one on hir mind.
“Who else knows about their presence?” Shi speak with icy calmness compared to hir Secretary’s nervous posture.
‘Hmm what to do? It’s too much of a hassle to have to mold a new secretary, not to mention how it will look to the public. Can’t repeat that mistake again. Yet, there are those I’m going to have to liquidate. Can’t have word getting out I let a defective live.’
The Secretary gulps. “Just, um, me and your personal guard regiment here in the ship. The cooks didn’t know who they were making the meals for, and the doctor who saw to the guardsman was only told it happened in a training accident with a new weapon. Nothing more.” Shi fights to keep hir head looking forward, and not to move it to follow the President walking around hir.
“Good! That’ll make things easier.” The Dalmatian patterned Chakat stops in front of hir Secretary, then takes a step back, just in case.
‘If they for some reason can’t be killed, I’m just going to assume it’s due to the same shit that gives out those skills and allows ‘magic’ to happen on this world. I’ll just have to use my talent to get them to get rid of the abomination themselves. First though, my Secretary needs to learn a lesson about not hiding information from me that I asked for.’
With a mirthful grin the Dalmatian Patterned Chakat forces hir talent onto the Olive drab furred Secretary, who goes wide-eyed as shi feels hir head being messed with. Less than a second later, hir upper torso collapses forward onto the floor. Claws on hir hands and fore-paws on hir lower torso dig into the carpeting as shi violently dry heaves. Trying to void both hir stomachs from a meal long since digested.
“That… is… was…” Dry heaving some more the only thing shi manages to expel from hir body is mucus from hir mouth and snot from hir nose.
“Your favorite food?” The Dalmatian Patterned Chakat grins some more. Still impressed at the power of an E-6 talent. ‘Unless my replacement is an E-6, I’m going to miss this body.’
“Consider this your lesson in not hiding things from me. I can do much worse than replace your feelings of your favorite meal with the most vile thing you’ve ever smelled and tasted. So when you’re done trying to void your stomachs, please fetch that abomination’s Dame and Sire. Then bring them to my personal quarters. After that, you’re dismissed for the day.”
‘This change should reinforce all the molding I’ve done to hir. Just wish it was permanent like I thought it was when E-6’s first appeared.’
Continuing to grin at hir secretary’s displeasure. Shi walks by the Olive Drab Chakat, careful to not step in the puddle of fluids pooling on the carpet. Idly making a mental note to have the carpet replaced. As shi exits the office to what once was the ship’s bridge, hir secretary finally forces hirself to ‘stop’ thinking about the food hir boss just changed hir feelings about in hir mind, against hir will.
‘E-6’s are fucking terrifying.’
Brig cell, converted from small passenger quarters of the Star Hopper.
“Shi’s finally asleep?” The Orange, Red and Purple swirling patterned Chakat looks to the one shi’s long-sitting and leaning hir upper torso against. A Green and Black spotted Chakat with Sandstone curled up on hir fore-limbs of hir lower torso, sleeping soundly.
“Yea.” Shi looks down, and lets a smile come out on hir muzzle. “Why did this have to happen to us Nebula?”
“Don’t know Veldet-Rose.” Shi reaches over to pet the arm of Sandstone’s Dame, hand tracing the green spots that look like jaguar rosette’s in some areas and green splotches in others.
“What I do know is this place is wrong now. What we used to think is wrong and I don’t know what’s right.”
With that, both of them go silent as their empathic senses feed off each other. Saying things between them without them actually verbally expressing themselves. Guilt and shame for how they acted before throughout their lives. Forgiveness to each other because both of them know it was the only thing ‘they’ knew, until Sandstone’s mere existence showed that those with lesser emphatic talents are not lesser Chakats. Are not ‘Defectives’ that should be culled.
“Should we try to leave? I mean for some reason they can’t kill us, not for the lack of trying. I mean that one shir’s gun just up and exploded rather than let hir shoot us.” Veldet-Rose looks over to Nebula.
“No way to know if whatever did that will extend to protecting us if we flee. We should’ve run after the test showed Sandstone was an E-0…” Nebula’s ears droop, only to raise back up when Veldet-Rose grips hir shoulder firmly but lovingly.
“Run to where? It’s more than a weeks walk to the nearest Draco-Fox town, longer for the nearest Elysengrad village, with multiple Republic villages and towns along the way. Settlements where we would be known as fugitives for harboring, well you know.” Veldet-Rose sighs.
“Shi’s not a defective. Shi’s our child.” Nebula counters.
“We know that now Nebula… If we had known when I was carrying hir, we could’ve left then.” Shi then pauses as shi realizes what that would mean, and sighs. “No, I take that back, if they could tell someone’s talent exactly in the womb. Sandstone would never have been born, which would’ve been worse because we would still be thinking as we were before shi came into our life.”
Veldet-Rose reaches down, petting the sleeping Sandstone. The nine-year-old cub only moves a little from the attention of hir mother.
Nebula’s about to open hir mouth when they both freeze. Hearing at the same time the sound of the President’s private guard force padding down the hall of the ship in their armored paw-boots. Not to mention their empathy abilities cluing them in too as said guards reach the edge of their talent’s range of detection.
Veldet-Rose gently and carefully with only the love and care of a mother, slips Sandstone off of hir fore-legs and onto the only cushioning in the room. Cushioning they made into a bed for their cub as they made due with the deck plating. Shi then straightens Sandstone’s shirt before shi and nebula stand together to face the guards who have reached their cell door.
Both ready to face what they want of them together.