Damned Bureaucracy

The small cargo ship, in the default medium grey, was wholly unremarkable. The same and similar made up the fleets of corporate and private couriers, with the result that it was not surprising to see it anywhere.

The anonymity and ability to blend in served Sidra well…usually. This station, run by the hyper-bureaucratic aslodzhins was the exception. The “bugs,” as many humans called them, had their own ways of doing things and didn’t like a “squishy,” as they called humans and other endoskeletal beings in their own language, upsetting the order.

“Private vessel Hobby Horse, please state the purpose of your visit and expected duration.”

“Station 47 control, I say again: PV Hobby Horse requesting permission to dock in an out-of-the-way small cargo dock for fueling. Expected visit duration no more than a week…seven standard days, but no less than an hour.”

“PV Hobby Horse, docking for fuel cleared at Lock 7-16. All passengers and crew are required to wait inside the vehicle until security arrives to clear you. …Cracked-shell squishy thinks they can—” The controller’s voice cut out as they must have noticed they were still transmitting.

“Thank you, station 47 control. Docking at Lock 7-16. Squishy out….”

Sidra expected one or two security to show up to clear her to enter the station, instead, there were a dozen. She opened the airlock and waited inside. “Come on in.”

The leader, obvious by the shiny, silver emblem in the center of its blast armor, stepped in, followed by two others that made a quick inspection of the ship to verify the claim of no other persons aboard. The brown color of the leader’s head carapace marked them as a drone, while the black carapaces were male and bright blue were female.

Sidra extended a hand. “Sidra Boston; captain, owner, pilot, and sole crew of the Hobby Horse. Welcome to my home.”

“Sub-adjutant-lieutenant-detachment-commander Slivdzak.” The officer looked at her extended hand and grasped it with one their six manipulators.

“Pleasure to meet you, Slivdzak. How can I help?” Sidra felt a secret rush of joy at the way the officer tried and failed to hide their discomfort. She knew that the lack of carapace was as disconcerting to them as the feel of a surprise tarantula crawling on the neck was to humans.

“Captain Sidra Boston—”

“Please, just call me Sid. Drop all the Captain and Boston stuff.”

“Sid, you have not made clear the purpose of your ‘one-hour to seven-day’ stay. Please elaborate.”

“I’m meeting someone here and taking them home.”

The officer looked at a small device it carried. A hologram rose from it, her close-cropped black hair, medium-brown skin, large, green eyes, and humped nose obvious. Beneath the hologram was writing in the bugs’ script. “Are you not a hunter of bounties?”

“Well, if that’s what you want to call it, I guess.”

“Such activity is only allowed in teams of three or more by aslodzhin law 9314-27.664 and safety regulations 647-88.932 and 90991-17.0. In addition, at least one of the team must be aslodzhin.”

“That’s kind of speciesist, isn’t it?”

“The courts have allowed for permanent residents of aslodzhin space to fill the requirements where applicable, in accordance with Galactic Union Resolution on the Rights of Sapients, 74.23.08 Paragraph 12.”

“Great, good to hear. Problem is, I work alone and I’m not after a bug.” She shrugged. “You know how we squishies are.”

“Station command has already decreed that you are not to leave your vessel without the two members chosen for you.” The officer raised to its full height, its head carapace close to scraping the ceiling. “Your team will be here soon. Good day, Captain Sidra Boston.”

“Good day, sub-whatever-whatchamacallit Sliv.”

After the security detail left, she stepped out of the ship to check on the refueling. No sooner had her foot set down outside the airlock than she found herself in the crosshairs of two armed security guards that had been standing out of sight.

“They aren’t kidding about not leaving without a team, huh? Damned bureaucracy.” She stepped back inside the ship and sat on the floor to await her babysitters.

When her team arrived, she was surprised by the presence of the furred, six-limbed hikarin hemi-male. He was easily head and shoulders taller than her, but slight of build, and thin-boned, coming from a lower-gravity world.

The aslodzhin female didn’t surprise her, even in her law enforcement uniform. She wore a red symbol on the chest of her uniform.

Sidra stood. “Okay guys, I’m Sid, and this is my job. You do what I say and stay out of the way we’ll get along fine. You,” she said, pointing at the aslodzhin female, “change out of that uniform. You’ll scare off my skip.”

“Sid, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m senior-squad-chief Dliz, and this is Soolyasin.” Dliz extended a manipulator for a shake and Sidra obliged.

Dliz’s compound eyes rotated in a way Sidra didn’t know they could, and she showed frank wonder at the feel of a hand in her manipulator. “Could you do that again?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“You moved your hand, and I could feel the muscles flex…yes! That’s it!” Dliz laughed. “That’s the neatest feeling ever!”

“Am I the first squishy you’ve met?”

“Oh, no. I’ve known Sool since I was a nymph.” Dliz continued to hold on to Sidra’s hand.

“How about humans?” Sidra raised an eyebrow and tried to extricate herself from the increasingly awkward handshake.

“Yes. I mean, I’ve seen plenty passing through, but never met one.” Dliz let go and uttered a quiet apology.

Soolyasin stepped forward. He was dressed in technician’s clothes, complete with tool belt. “You’ll have to forgive Dliz. She’s a fan of bounty hunters in general, and you in particular.”

“Shush.” Dliz stood straight up at attention on her four hind legs, her head scraping the ceiling, her three left manipulators raised in a salute. “What are your orders, Sid?”

“First order of business, you need to lose the uniform and dress in something less conspicuous. Sool, is that a disguise?”

“No, these are my work clothes. When Dliz called I ran straight here.”

“That’s fine. You’ll blend in, no trouble.” Sidra put on a ballistic vest and covered it with a loose jacket. She checked that she had cuffs, shackles, bench warrant, and badge.

She turned toward Dliz. “Do you have a ballistic vest?”

“I have a carapace; I’m not a squishy.”

“Will your carapace stop a slug from a weapon like this?” Sidra held up a high-powered, 6mm rifle.

“Um, no. I have armor, though.”

“Can you wear it under clothes?”

“Yes, but it’s against the regulations.”

“Screw the rules, wear your armor…under your clothes.” She muttered under her breath, “Damned bureaucracy.”

Sidra turned toward Soolyasin. “I think I have a vest that’ll fit you.”

He looked at Sidra, then Dliz, then back again. “Is it going to be that dangerous?”

Sidra showed them the bench warrant. Soolyasin’s eyes grew wide and Dliz’s eyes rolled in a different way to earlier. Sidra thought she might be able to read bug emotions if this kept up.

“You were going after a turgen terrorist by yourself?” he asked.

“Still am. Just don’t want to see my babysitters get hurt.” She turned to look at Dliz. “Dliz, relax. You don’t have to stand at attention. I need you to tell me which of these weapons you’ll let me carry on the station.”

Dliz settled back down onto six legs and looked over the cabinet Sidra had unlocked. In addition to the rifle, she had pistols, tasers, batons, knives, and a shotgun with less-lethal beanbag loads along with standard loads.

“Which of them are capable of breaching the station hull?”

“The 6-mil, and the shotgun, if I loaded it with steel shot or slugs instead of beanbags.” She didn’t mention that the 10mm pistols were just as likely to do the same damage, but she wasn’t going out without at least one lethal weapon.

“In that case, leave the rifle and lethal shotgun rounds behind. I’ll be carrying a beam weapon, too, so we should be covered.”

“What about me?” Soolyasin asked.

“The only thing I need you to do is stay out of the way. Unless I need some inconspicuous eyes in the bay.”

After fitting Soolyasin with a ballistic vest and Dliz getting into civilian clothes over her armor, much to her dismay, they moved to the main cargo bays where they expected their quarry to show. Sidra positioned them so that she could watch arrivals, Dliz could watch her back, and Soolyasin could stay well out of the way unless and until needed.

The first hour went by at glacial speed, with constant interruptions from Dliz and Soolyasin asking questions or pointing at every passerby that might be a turgen in disguise. The next two hours dragged compared to the first.

It was in the middle of the fourth hour that Sidra got notice that the ship carrying her quarry was docking. She moved them to cover the lock where it pulled in, granting them a view on both the personnel airlock and the cargo airlock.

A much smaller contingent of security met the ship, cleared the crew for the station, and left. Four crewmembers, all turgen, filed off. Larger than humans in bulk, grey skin covered with hard dermal denticles, they had two arms, two legs, the remnants of a dorsal fin, and a long, flat tail with which they could do bone-breaking damage.

Sidra waited. If he was going to sneak off the ship, he’d need to do it soon. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to get out on his own, she radioed Soolyasin.

“Okay, Sool. It’s clear around the ship. Just carry your tool case and walk onboard like you belong there. You’ve seen his picture, if you see him, run. If there’s anyone else on the ship, just tell them you’re checking the fuel gauges because of some regulation or other.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You got this, and I’ve got your back.”

Soolyasin walked onto the ship, and they could hear him in their headsets, “Hello? Anyone here? I need to check your fuel gauges. Hello?”

A few quiet moments passed before Soolyasin spoke up again. “There’s no one else here,” he said, “I’m co—” His voice was cut off by the sound of a heavy thud.

Sidra ran for the ship, pulling her shotgun into firing position and cycling a round into the chamber. She stopped at the door of the ship and called inside. “Give it up, Otto. The only way you’re leaving here is in cuffs.”

When she didn’t hear anything else, she moved to clear the corners. She looked right where the door to the cockpit was closed. She swiveled around to check the other side only to find it empty as well. “Dliz, move up and cover the exit. The cargo airlock hasn’t been cycled, so this is the only way off.”

She began to move down the passageway when she heard the cockpit door click behind her. She swung around a delivered a 12-gauge beanbag into Otto’s gut at near point-blank range. Rather than stopping him, it enraged him. He turned and swiped at her with his tail.

Sidra tried to dodge out the way, but he managed to knock the shotgun out of her hands. He picked it up and threw it behind himself into the cockpit, next to the limp form of Soolyasin. “Time to go away, bounty hunter.”

He began to move toward her. When he stepped in front of the open door, he was met with a concentrated beam of infrared energy that forced him to jump back. “Listen, soft-skin. You leave now, and I’ll throw your friend out. It’s your one chance to leave alive.”

She drew her 10mm pistol and pointed it at him. “And if I don’t?”

He started toward her again, then stopped when the beam almost connected. “I’ll start by killing your furry friend, then your trigger-happy friend, then you…but nice and slow. There’s no way you’re taking me to a human prison.”

Sidra couldn’t see Dliz, but from the angle of the last beam, she’d moved to where she had more coverage of the passageway toward the cockpit. She knew that if he wanted, he could ignore the burns and rush her, crushing her carapace in a thousand different ways. Her shotgun was far out of reach, not to mention ineffective, but the 10mm pistol was a comforting weight in her hand.

Otto turned his back on her, his tail swishing wildly, smashing against the bulkheads on each side of the passage. “Very well, then. On to killing your furry friend first.”

“I’m warning you, Otto, these are lethal rounds. Put your hands behind your head, your tail between your legs, and drop to your knees.”

By the time Otto had taken a step, Sidra had taken aim and fired a shot into his torso and another into his thigh. He stopped and turned to look at her, bright pink blood running down his leg and back. He laughed. “You’re going to be so much fun.”

The courts tended to look down on spinal injuries, but when a round in the torso and thigh didn’t slow him down, she didn’t feel like she had much choice. She took aim again and fired at the base of his tail. His tail dropped like a dead weight, and he cried out.

The pain dropped him to his knees. Sidra finished the motion by jumping between his shoulder blades to put him flat on the deck. She cuffed his hands behind his back, and secured his ankles with shackles before motioning Dliz to come in.

“Call for medical for Sool and for the idiot here.”

Dliz made the call and medical teams arrived in less than a minute.

“Damn,” Sidra said, “I guess bureaucracy is good for something after all.”

Soolyasin was awake by the time he was loaded onto a stretcher. There didn’t seem to be any broken bones, but he’d been thrown rather hard by Otto’s tail strike. “Sorry I wasn’t any help,” he said.

“Nonsense. I’m sorry I sent you in there and you got hurt. I’m splitting the bounty three ways, even across with both of you.”

“I can’t take any payment,” Dliz said. “It’s against the regulations for police to have any outside earnings.”

“You saved my bacon, though. If you hadn’t been enough of an inconvenience with the beam, he would’ve tail swiped me before I could draw.”

“Still can’t accept any payments or monetary gifts.”

“How about this? You two have been friends forever, right? I’ll pay your portion to Sool, and he can treat you to fancy dinners for the rest of your life.”

“Wha...how much is the bounty?”

“Three-point-seven million Terran credits. About sixteen million galactic.”

Dliz’s eyes rolled in yet another motion. “Damned bureaucracy.”