Compliance

by Mal Masque

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

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One of the worst foes for any military officer to face is waiting. The silent wait for an advance on the front to be made, the anticipatory wait to call the order for a Ratling sniper to pick off a target meters away, the terrifying wait for the enemy to make a move and eventually overwhelm unprepared forces. Waiting was an enemy of many faces, each with its own hurdles to face and ways of defeating it. The tedious wait in a lobby to be called in for a meeting has no such weaknesses, and has the resounding sensation of boredom as its weapon. There is no proper way to combat it, just surrender and admission to defeat.

Yamira Kalov would not accept that defeat, even though she had been seated in the Office of Relations lobby for the past twenty minutes with naught but the sound of a ticking clock to break apart the deathly silence. If only she had the abilities psykers had, then she would have simply exploded the thing with her mind to end her annoyance of it. Filthy abhumans they may have been, at least they had advantages and powers akin to the God-Emperor himself, though nowhere near his level. Yet still, here she was, a bored and irritated normal human, stuck dealing with the incessant tick-tock of the clock on the wall.

A unicorn opened the main door, carrying a clipboard in his magical grasp. “Commissar Kalov?” he said. “The Overheads are waiting for you. Follow me, please.” Finally, freedom from an eternal wait. Yamira stood up and followed the unicorn into the corridors. She took a moment to properly study the creature, now being the second of these ponies she had properly seen up close. Like Amber, he had eyes that were much too big and came in an array of bright colors. The horn on its head seemed far too small to be used for goring, like pike-mounts on a Rough Rider’s steed, yet the teal glow around it and the board hovering beside him certainly caught her eye. She had heard stories from fellow Commissars and Guardsmen that, of the variants of these pony Xenos, the horned unicorns possessed abilities that would take most psykers decades to master. She couldn’t tell whether that made her impressed or slightly more revolted, to see another Xenos psyker race. Adorned on his flank was an image of a quill on parchment, a peculiar thing that Yamira had neglected to notice before.

‘Must be a Xenos tribal rite of passage,’ she thought. ‘Or some other heretical trite.’ Come to think of it, she didn’t recall seeing what kind of marking that Amber Dust had when they first met. If time permit, she will have to investigate further, without looking like a damn nut for staring at rear ends of miniature horses. By the time Yamira came out of her introspective analysis on the Xenos, she and her escort had arrived at a set of double doors, which promptly parted way and allowed for the other Xenos to exit, the Tau Ambassador.

“Oh, hello again, Commissar Kalov!” Windmind cheerily greeted. Yamira had to restrain herself from gritting her teeth at the notion of this ambivalent Tau referring to her by nam;, the luxury of a concealing cheek was halfway lost upon her. “I had a delightful meeting with the Overheads. Such wonderful po’nai and gue’la! So much to talk about. We’ll have to talk later after you have your meeting with them. Good-bye!”

“Yes, talk later,” Yamira muttered as Windmind walked away through the halls. “When the Fabricator-General sprouts wings and flies to Phobos…” She strode through the doors and into the office. It was decorated with a few things, here and there, mostly pictures of Xenos, some plaques and things, bookshelves, stuff of little consequence for the Commissar. Her focus was on the two beings in the room already. First was the one at the desk, another pony female (or mare, as Yamira had been informed they were called), only this one had two large wings and a horn. She had been somewhat informed that the combination of these traits denoted leadership, in a similar vein to how Orks declare themselves leader for merely being bigger than the others. How droll. The pony was predominantly purple: purple coat, darker purple mane and tail, sporting a pink and orange pair of stripes through each, a mark of a starburst on her flank, and peculiar metallic things on her ears that made them seem a bit sharper. The smile the pony had on her face was welcoming, yet Yamira still held hesitancy.

Standing next to her, however, was a human. An older-looking man with rugged features dressed in refined attire, all while bearing the Merodi’s symbol upon his shoulder. From all her years serving in the Astra Militarum, Yamira had learned how to read a person’s stance to gauge who and what they were, as well as reflect it upon herself. Xenos, it was still difficult at times, but humans were easy to read as can be. This man, Yamira saw, was one of action, one of discipline. Military. She felt herself at ease, being in the presence of both one of her human kin (albeit from across the universal boundaries) and one who serves the military to boot. She had been in the presence of commanders and generals who carried themselves lightly, grown fat and lazy from decadence and hardly setting a toe on the battlefield, but this man’s firm stance and crisp look told of years in active duty. Admirable, indeed, and yet his association with Xenos weakened the aura a bit.

“Welcome, Lady Commissar,” the pony said, still maintaining her politician’s smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Evening Sparkle, I’m the Overhead of Relations.” Yamira simply nodded, keeping her face neutral as she strode into the room properly. The military man gave his own smile and tilted his head.

“I’m General Jack O’Neill,” he said. “Military Overhead. Eve asked that I come along to provide some ease for you, soldier to soldier.” Yamira immediately placed a hand to the right side of her chest in salute, bowing a bit.

“Thank you, General, sir,” Yamira said. “It is a pleasure to meet the leader of the military of this society.” Eve raised one of her eyebrows briefly, but brought it back down and kept her smile.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Eve asked, gesturing to the two chairs in front of her desk. “Get yourself comfortable so we can have our talk?” Yamira rose from her bow and brought both her hands behind her back, staring at Eve with her one good eye.

“I would prefer,” she coldly said. “To stand.” Eve retracted her hoof and placed it upon her desk.

“This might be a while, so you should take a seat if you wish,” O’Neill offered.

“If you so insist, General.” Yamira immediately sat herself down, her sword clacking against the arm of the chair as she made herself comfortable. Eve cleared her throat, her large lavender wings slightly ruffling at her sides.

“As I told the Por’o who has just left,” Eve said. “We’re delighted to fully welcome new ambassadors to Celestia City, to further steel the bonds between our society, and the many cultures and empires of your universe. Unity and harmony is our ambition, and any way that we can achieve this throughout this galaxy, we will do as we can.” Her ears flicked as Yamira lightly clicked her teeth in displeasure. “This exchange of representatives will hopefully help us achieve that sooner, and we look forward to whatever aid you can provide us on this endeavor.”

“And what, Emperor willing, do you have in mind for me, Xenos?” The furrow on O’Neill’s brow was evident, but he still maintained his composure, despite his clear displeasure.

“Well, we hope you can provide insight into the Imperium,” O’Neill said. “And how we can best go about proper diplomacy without riling up local politics and making a scene. I’ve been around the bend plenty of times before to understand a militaristic political climate.”

“An excellent proposal indeed, General,” Yamira replied, glancing up at O’Neill. “A proper tactic for intelligence-gathering and establishing connections. Truly a well-coordinated move from a military mind such as yourself.”
Eve lowered her eyelids and raised a hoof.

“The representatives idea was mine,” she said. Yamira jerked her head back to Eve, her dead eye rolling slightly in her skull as her good lips turned downwards. Eve leaned forward and tapped her hooves together. “So, Lady Commissar, can you tell us what we could do to fully establish ourselves as peaceful allies of the Imperium of Man?”

“You want my suggestions, you say?” Yamira asked. She raised her right leg and crossed it over her left, planting both her gloved hands atop her knee. “Very well, I will provide my suggestion: Get out.”

Eve blinked repeatedly while O’Neill remained stoic. “E-excuse me?”

“You heard me, Xenos.” Yamira sneered. She uncrossed her legs and gripped both arms of her chair. “Get out of Imperium space, get out of our galaxy, and get out of our universe, and never return.” O’Neill clenched his fingers as Yamira slowly stood up, not once taking her eye off the purple pony. “The Imperium of Man will never bend the knee to an empire of Xenos and heretical sympathisers. The mere existence of you as a power, trying to coerce us to work alongside Xenos that have done naught but pillage, subjugate and destroy our worlds and homes, makes me and humanity itself want to vomit. The only reason that this floating nation has not been blasted from orbit by the combined artillery of Mars and every one of you butchered like the animals you are,” she slammed both her hands on the top of Eve’s desk, prompting her to wince from the sudden loudness. “Is because the God-Emperor wills it.”

Yamira felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, turning to her left and spotting a very irate O’Neill as the culprit. “I’m going to suggest you sit back down before I put you down,” he said. “Nobody wants an inter-universal incident.” Yamira growled, glaring at the General who dared touch her. Gone was the respect she had for the man of military she had initially laid eyes on when she entered the room. Now stood a man no better than a turncoat for the Rogue Traders or, Emperor forbid, the Tau.

“It’s alright, Jack,” Eve suddenly said. “We asked for her opinion, and she gave it. We can’t fault her for that.” O’Neill gave Eve a look of disbelief, one almost mirrored by Yamira. The Xenos leader was agreeing with her? Had the whole galaxy gone mad? O’Neill withdrew his hand and Yamira stepped back from the desk, still looking down at Eve. “And she is right. The only reason that we haven’t engaged in full-scale war with the Imperium is because of the Emperor, he told me so himself. This program of exchange is meant to fix that so we can be trusted amongst the populace.”

“A fool’s errand. You’d sooner find a coherent Ork with a lexicon than convince a sane member of the Imperium to side with -” Yamira stopped herself. “Wait… what was that you said?”

“The exchange program is to help establish proper relations amongst the Imperium’s populace?” Eve said.

“No, before that.” Yamira felt her eye twitch again. “About the God-Emperor.”

“That… he’s the only reason the Merodi aren’t fighting your forces in war?”

“You said he told you so himself.” Yamira’s left hand slowly drifted over her left side. “You were on Holy Terra’s soil.” Eve had already risen from her desk by the time Yamira unlatched the clasp of her holster and wrapped her fingers around the grip of her bolt pistol. “BLASPHEMY!” She screamed, drawing her hefty gun and aiming directly at Eve’s head. “PURE HERESY!” O’Neill shouted something, but his words were promptly drowned out by the loud pop and the rending of metal. When Yamira pulled the trigger on her gun, a rush of nausea seemed to flood over her, causing her to stagger and wobble. Her half-vision disoriented, Yamira was suddenly hurled off her feet and slammed into a wall, her sword and gun stripped from her person as her body ached with pain. Her mind swam about in an ocean of drunken delirium and rage, barely able to keep afloat amidst the ideas of a Xenos being on the Throneworld for the first time in thousands of years and speaking with the most holy being in existence. It was more than heresy. It was sin, and Yamira desired to see it purged.

When Yamira’s blurred vision returned, she saw Eve standing in front of her, horn glowing a pinkish color, while O’Neill glared viciously at her. “Commissar Yamira Kalov,” Eve firmly said. “If O’Neill didn’t react as quickly as he did, your action would have been grounds for war against the Imperium. While I’m sure the idea pleases you, it would be a war the Imperium would not win.” Eve took one step forward, and Yamira felt the pressure on her body tighten. “I would list all the ways that we hold the advantage, but I will remind you that already many Eldar Craftworlds, Ork Freebootas and even the Tau Empire have come to our side. Do you think the Imperium could survive that? Do you think this is what your Emperor would want?” Were it not for the heavy field of magic holding the Commissar in place, Yamira would have held her tongue regardless. As much as she could promote the strength of the Imperial Guard, the mighty bulwark of the Imperial Navy, the overwhelming power of the Astartes, and even the mere existence of the God-Emperor of Mankind Himself… she knew that the little horse was right. The Imperium, once a glimmering golden goliath in the galaxy, was now a shadow of what it was. Even with the return of one of the God-Emperor’s own Sons, the Imperium would barely hold its ground against the combined force of these otherworldly visitors and their Xenos allies. As good as it would feel to take her weapons and go on a slaughter even the Black Templars would balk at, it would have been a totally fruitless endeavor.

Yamira slowly nodded, and was promptly freed from Eve’s magical grasp, dropping down onto the floor with a thud. “I don’t want this to remain a partnership of mutually assured benefits that could turn to mutually assured destruction, Commissar,” Eve softly said, though her expression still remained stern. “But this animosity cannot remain throughout your stay here. You’ll have to comply somewhat with our rules, if you do not want to face punishment.” Yamira staggered to her feet, clutching her sore abdomen, while Eve levitated her sword and bolt pistol back to her. “I will let this slide for now, but please at least give us a chance. If not for your sake, then for the Imperium.” Yamira snatched her weapons from Eve’s magic and set them back onto her belt, still maintaining her glare, but her prior rage had been somewhat subsided.

“Very well,” Yamira said. “I will comply.” ‘Yet I will not bend the knee.’ she thought. Eve lightly smiled and returned to her desk.

“Thank you, Commissar,” she said stiffly. “You’re free to go. Amber will take you and your plus-ones to your new residency. I hope you enjoy your stay here in Celestia City.” Business concluded, Yamira tipped the brim of her hat and exited through the doors of the office. She might have been out of there quicker, thanks to her hurried pace, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She already knew who had grabbed her; there was no need to turn and check.

“Eve may give you this one free pass for your crazy actions,” O’Neill harshly whispered. “But you’ll be watched like a hawk while you’re here. This may be your universe, but you’re on our soil. You screw up, you face our judicial system.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Is that clear?”

“Of course, General,” Yamira said. O’Neill withdrew his hand and walked back into Eve’s office, leaving the Commissar to stand alone in the hall. A full minute passed before Yamira finally decided to march out of the halls, back into the waiting room, and out through the doors into the wild open of Celestia City without so much as a glance towards the receptionist from earlier. O’Neill was right: Yamira was in a whole new world, and she would not let it break her so easily.

---

Yamira walked down the stairs of the Relations Office, keeping her stride cool and militaristic as she descended the steps. She spared a few glances to those passing by her, each as distinct and unique as the last. Humans, ponies, bipedal winged lizards, bird-feline hybrids, insectoid equines, more variations of the Gem Xenos, things like humanoid mushrooms, clumps of fur, it was like a menagerie of lifeforms, all coming and going about their daily lives. Were it not for the abundance of Xenos and abhumans, it almost reminded Yamira of the Hive-Cities she had been to in the past. A bit of home, almost. As she neared the bottom of the steps, she brushed past a portly man in a suit, barely regarding him and the wide smile across his face as she came to the ground landing. Off on the side was the parked rented vehicle, and there stood Devon, Cage, Bell and Amber. Judging by the way Devon was shaking his metal foot about, he must have been engrossed in recapping one of his war stories. Yamira folded her arms behind her back and marched over.

“- shifted my hips in just the right moment,” Devon said, reclining on the vehicle in a faux posture of being restrained. “I narrowly avoided the chain-axe coming down to lop my frakking head off, but it cost me my foot in the process. WHACK!” He brought his metal foot down with a clank, causing Amber to jump, but still stare in awe. “By the time the cultist realized he missed, I swung my other foot around and got the big bastard behind me in his gut, and broke free of the grapple!” He laughed and hopped onto his feet, putting his fists up and throwing a few jabs. “They were no match for me after that, especially after the dumb one with the axe threw his only weapon right into his mate’s skull. The rest was just easy pickings.” Cage smirked and clapped while Amber just continued her staring.

“Wow, what a story.” Amber breathlessly said. “I can’t believe you took on eight heavily-armed cultists all by yourself with only one foot and no weapons.”

“That’s interesting,” Yamira said, startling both Amber and Devon. “Last time you said that one, you told me it was six heavily-armed cultists and you had an empty stub pistol.” Devon smirked and rubbed the back of his head, jostling his helmet a bit.

“Well, ah… Truth be told, it was six, but one of them was a mutant with four arms,” Devon said. “But that technically counts as eight! Big as an ogryn, he was!” Amber looked perplexed while Cage just snickered and flung a spent cigarette into the street. Yamira shook her head and patted Devon on the shoulder, bringing the Captain down a bit. “Right… So, how’d the meeting go with the leader?” he asked.

“It…” Yamira had to stop herself from recounting the exact details on how she was flung into a wall for trying to kill one of the Merodi’s leaders for high heresy, but still maintained her composure. “It went as well as it could. General O’Neill was an interesting man, to say the least. A much clearer head than the Lord Commander, I’ll admit that.” Devon let off a light chuckle. “As for… Overhead Evening Sparkle,” she glanced down at Amber, who immediately shrank away from her half-melted gaze. Yamira still could barely process how, moments ago, this very same skittish pony had forced her from nearly capsizing the vehicle in the pursuit of trying to attack the black ship from before. Those same big eyes had that flicker of determination and fury, but now they were just buried away in those big pools on her face. Yamira turned back to Devon and lightly shrugged. “Is also interesting. Likely we will have another meeting after we have spent some time in our residency here.” Amber immediately seemed to perk up, her eyes practically sparkling with joy. “So, Captain, it seems you’ll be enjoying your shoreleave after all.”

Devon sighed in relief. “Thank the Emperor,” he said. “About time I get to relax. Barely got a moment’s rest during the Karthag Campaign.” Yamira internally winced at the mention of that travesty, but maintained her composure. “So, what’s to be done now?”

“The Overhead suggested that we could go to visit our new lodgings and situate ourselves,” Yamira said, stroking her chin. “I think some manner of rest is due.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Amber suddenly spoke up, hopping and raising her hoof. “I have an idea! I know what we can do first!” All eyes turned on the little yellow pony. She stopped her bouncing and put on a hesitant smile. “Well, uh, I’ve learned that, ah, the best way to both relax and experience new environments and cultures is to… get some food?”

“Oh man, yes.” Cage said, snapping his fingers. “I could totally go for some great food right now. Hell,” he lit two cigarettes and added them to his mouth. Current total now stands at five, and Yamira already can feel the smell. “I know some of the best restaurants in the whole city, some places most people don’t even know about.”

Yamira raised her hand, cutting Cage off. “Food won’t be necessary.” Yamira said. “Captain Mangonel and I already have something to eat once we reach the lodgings.” Devon’s immediate look of confusion was promptly replaced with dismay as he rubbed his forehead.

“Oh no, come on,” he moaned. “Not the frakking paste again.” Yamira raised an eyebrow and glanced over to her ward.

“What’s wrong with the paste?” she asked. “It’s healthy, provides all the nutrients we need, keeps one fed for days on end…”

“And it tastes like grox shit.”

“It doesn’t even have a taste. There’s absolutely no need to complain.”

“There is when you’ve had nothing but that crap for weeks trudging through the blasted wastelands.”

“This the most childish thing I’ve heard you complain about in all my years knowing you, Captain.” Amidst the apparently awkward conversation between Yamira and Devon on the value of nutrient paste, Cage had gotten immediately bored and glanced off to the side, blowing more smoke into the air. As he paused to take another breath, he hitched and all color from his face drained. Directly across the street from their parked location stood a woman, dressed in a black dress with white diamonds patterned along the hem of the skirt, sporting long black hair that draped all the way down to her knees, ending in perfectly-rolled curls. She glared at Cage with an apparent burning fury.

“Oh shit,” Cage suddenly said, immediately looking away. The smoke around him began to coalesce, forming into a wide oval right behind him. “WELL, this has been a fun meeting, but I gotta get going,” he loudly said, breaking the conversation between the two soldiers. Amber and Devon looked confused, while Yamira simply looked annoyed. “I have a place to go and do the thing with the stuff. Ambs, I’ll call ya later. Captain, you’re a total bro, we should go drinking sometime. Ms. Rawhide, hope you get a proctologist to look at that rod soon. I’ll think of a nickname for Tau Lady next time I see her.” The smoke cloud had completely solidified in a thick gray haze as Cage backed up, pointing at everyone while keeping his usual smile. “Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em. Cigarette Daydreams.” Cage backed into the cloud of smoke… and he was suddenly gone. Completely vanished, dispelling as the smoke blew to the winds. Yamira’s good eye widened, while Devon’s jaw dropped. Cage Jameson had literally disappeared in a puff of smoke, right in front of their eyes. Amber, however, immediately rushed over to the car and looked around the driver’s seat.

“Darn it, he took the keys…” Amber grumbled, stepping back from the car. “That’s just peachy-keen, Cage. Disappearing like that and taking the keys…” She growled and stamped her hoof. “Oh, that is just so TYPICAL of him!” Yamira broke out of her shocked stupor and turned to Amber, her brow furrowed and a scowl once again appearing.

“Explain,” she firmly said. Amber stopped her pouting and looked up at Yamira, bending her ears in response to Yamira’s angry face.

“Oh, um… yeah, it’s…” Amber gulped and took a few steps back. “It’s really, really, really hard to explain, but, uh… you see…” She tapped her front hooves together. “Cage has these, uh… powers, that can do all these… things with smoke? L-like make p-p-portals?”

“Portals.” Yamira repeated. Amber nodded vigorously. “With smoke.” Amber nodded again. Yamira sighed and rubbed her burnt side. “There’s no such thing as normalcy in this damn place….” Devon rattled his head, still staring at the spot where Cage once stood.

“Wait a tick,” he said. “If he’s got the keys, then how in the Emperor’s name are we supposed to get around without a proper transport?!”

“Hold on, hold on!” Amber said, cautiously gesturing with her hooves. “There’s other options, there’s no need to panic!” She rushed over to the vehicle and picked up one of the odd devices Yamira had seen her fiddling with during the flight. A square thing, no doubt similar to a dataslate or an auspex, or some piece of technology that escaped her. After a bit of fiddling, Amber smiled and hugged the device to her chest. “Okay, good news: I got us a ride. They’ll be here in about a minute.” Devon seemed to be put somewhat at ease, but Yamira still seemed mildly irked, half-glaring at the vehicle and the spot where Cage had vanished. Whenever she encountered the smoking twit again, she would have a few choice and interrogative words with him. Preferably with a bit of throwing him against things. That might help her alleviate some of her current frustration and anger.

As Amber promised, new transport arrived quickly, although it was less glamorous than the sleek transport vehicle that had brought them to the Relations Office. Although it was a hovering vehicle, it was a dingy-looking thing, with dulled yellow and black-checker paint, a cramped roof over the top, a dented front, and a phrase printed in obnoxiously large green letters on the side reading ‘Zoomie-Boom Cabs’. It swooped down from above and came to park right next to the rental vehicle, muffled music playing through the windows. Amber perked up and trotted over to the driver’s door while Yamira and Devon stood closely behind. The window rolled down, revealing the grubby driver behind the wheel, somewhat obscured by the dark lighting inside.

“Welcome to Zoomie-Boom Cabs,” the driver said, speaking in a rather thick accent in a semi-bored and squeaky voice. “Where we give you the best boom with yer zoom. Where can I take-” Before he continued, he took a brief look at Yamira, and immediately went wide. “Blow me down! A Commissar, here?! Hold on a toss, let me just…” The driver fiddled a bit in his seat, then opened the car and stepped out onto the pavement. Yamira was immediately surprised to see what was behind the wheel. It looked human, at least from a view, but he stood barely taller than the pony. His nose was far too large, two pronounced front teeth peaked out between his thin lips, thick brown hair accumulated over the sides of his feet, and his feet were massive with hooked claw-like toes. It had been a while, but Yamira knew enough to instantly spot a Ratling when she saw one. Though this one lacked the military camo of the sniper brigades she once commanded with the Cadians a few years back, instead dressed in a dirty sleeveless vest and thick baggy pants, she did notice that the Ratling’s right hand ended at a stump at the wrist, with a simplistic three-pronged metal claw in its place. The Ratling proudly saluted Yamira, a bold smile on his ratty face. “An absolute honor to meet a Commissar face-to-face.”

Yamira smiled and stood at her own rapt attention, looking down at the diminutive abhuman. “Ah, proper recognition,” she said. “Good to have that after being here for far longer than I wished. I take it you’ve served?”

“Yes ma’am!” the Ratling said. “Lieutenant Major Ruttiger, Salvar Sniper Brigade. Or was until I lost me trigger finger to some longshanks on Validiya.” He waggled his hooked hand with a resentful sneer. “So they frakkin’ discharged me! Can ya believe it?”

“I most certainly cannot,” Yamira said, shaking her head. “You seem to still have the fighting spirit of the Emperor in you, Lt. Major.” Ruttiger beamed widely, showing off his mouth full of crooked, rotted teeth.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’!” he exclaimed. “But now I’m jus’ a down-on-me-luck cabbie driver, workin’ ‘til me spark gives out. But I’m keepin’ in good spirits!” He tapped his chest again. “Busy body means busy mind, so they say!” Yamira chuckled and stood upright, glancing over to Amber, who seemed to be patiently waiting for her turn to speak. Once she realized she was being acknowledged, she perked up and trotted up.

“Oh, yes, excuse me.” Amber said. “We were looking to get a ride to the food plaza on Restaurant Row, can we please get a lift there?”

“Ah, say no more, say no more.” Ruttiger said, patting the side of his vehicle. “I can get ya there faster than a lasfire going through a gretchin’s head at twenty paces. An’ for the lovely Lady Commissar, I’ll do this one for free.” Amber blinked in surprise. “So hop on in the back, we get goin’ now, we can miss the rush hour.”

“Well thank you, Mr. Ruttiger!” Amber cheerily said. She opened the cab passenger door and crawled inside, while Ruttiger himself hopped back into his seat, turning his music down low with a smile on his ratty face. Yamira moved to take her own seat, but stopped when she realized that Devon had been making somewhat of a face the whole time.

“Come along, Captain,” Yamira said. “We might as well indulge this food offer, especially if you’re so insistent on neglecting the paste.” Devon winced and walked over to the open cab door. He glanced inside, sniffed, and immediately recoiled.

“I’m not too cheeky on the idea of sharing a confined space with a Ratling, Yamira,” he said. Yamira rolled her eye and practically pushed Devon into the seat.

“If you’re so bothered by his smell, wear your gas mask,” she said. Devon grumbled and pulled his mask over his face, sealing it against his skin with a compressed hiss. “Besides,” she muttered, glancing up at the towering building of the Relations Office. “I’ll take the company of a smelly abhuman over more exposure to Xenos any day.”

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Yeah, that went about as well as could be expected. I can't say I'm surprised that the idea of a Xenos on Holy Terra outweighed the literal endorsement of the Emperor in Yamira's mind. It'll likely take him speaking directly to her to get the idea of intercultural cooperation through her skull. Though experiencing some literal local flavor may help... assuming her tongue isn't as damaged as her face.

Also, a Stand that relies on preexisting smoke would certainly explain Cage's habit. Need to keep up the minimum amount if he has to vanish at a moment's notice.

And just a heads up, you're developing some tense issues. Present tense shouldn't show up outside of dialogue.

Looking forward to more.

[Mal Masque]

9675968
Thanks for the heads up on the tense issues. I’ll be sure to rectify that in the future. And thanks as well for your support of this story!

[Double Vision]

9675968

I can't say I'm surprised that the idea of a Xenos on Holy Terra outweighed the literal endorsement of the Emperor in Yamira's mind.

How hard do you think her brain is overclocking itself to keep her from realizing that by ignoring the Emperor's endorsement she is in fact guilty of heresy?

Though experiencing some literal local flavor may help... assuming her tongue isn't as damaged as her face.

She doesn't mind the nutrient paste. That right there is a sign of both a damaged mind and palate.