Archive for September, 2012

Selrendarr shifted on the sloping roof, claws poking into view with the stretch of his paws, then relaxing and retreating. He gazed down at the bustle of the city, watching the crowds go about their business. Apart from him – always.

Well, it wasn’t as though he didn’t know the reason for that. Usually it didn’t greatly trouble him. Maybe it was the Sleeth in him that cared little for the opinions and esteem of all the people on the branch. He could consider it critically, and know that one of the reasons people might not care to have him mingling with them was that he did look like a Sleeth, currently – four broad paws, long slender tail, whiskers, emerald eyes, fir-green pelt dappled with a paler brown that gleamed with good health and cleanliness under the guttering sun; all of it. Sleeth. They wanted nothing to do with it, and that was fine; he didn’t want much to do with them, either. Noisy and intrusive, the lot of them.

But part of him did crave a little company now and then, and knew they wouldn’t want much to do with him as a Gormoror, either.


“Tomas. I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Tomas resisted the urge to lower his gaze. Pride, he told himself. “Y-yes, I know. I’m sorry.” The great creature gazing down at him usually invited him over; he’d not complained when Tomas had shown up unexpected in the past, but that was hospitality that he didn’t want to strain. “I’m sorry, Kalamindrax,” he repeated. “I was just hoping – I could really use some sensible company.”


The lift doors slid open with a hiss. There was just enough time to hear the murmur of hushed activity before a clear voice snapped, “Captain on the bridge!”

“As you were,” Khaele Makrynn called back. Once the doors were fully open, the wolverine ducked through, making her way to the centre of the bridge. Officers who had started to turn towards the lift now turned back to their stations, resuming their briefly-interrupted tasks. Khaele’s gaze sought out one in particular. “Commander Ayesh, I have the bridge.”

“The bridge is yours, Captain,” the exec responded in the formal tones that were his norm. “Everything proceeds on schedule; no incidents demand your attention.”

“Very good, Commander,” said the Captain, settling into her station chair. “Nav, rough time to transition?”

“A bit over five minutes, Captain,” was the reply.


“Don’t do it, Kyle.”

The words bounced off the concrete walls, lingering in the air for a time. As they faded into silence, all was still for a moment.

“That… that thing just had me tortured for four days,” a chilly voice replied. “The first time around, she murdered a dozen people and was responsible for ruining who knows how many lives. And what did the courts do? Slapped her on the wrist, gave her housing on the public dime for a year, and then let her go. Now that she’s up to the same things as before and then some, all she has to do is hide behind a half-dozen people and she gets off scot free?”