Tryouts.
My hand squeezes onto the trigger. However, the cold metal of my weapon is replaced by a sudden gust of wind with its weight lifted from my arm.
My black hair sways behind me along with a sudden break of air hitting my front. I then notice a shadow lingering above my head as my eyes focus on the floor with widened eyes.
“… Very good, it took a bit of pushing but your instincts took over.”
Hesitant to move a muscle, my iris darts to the corner of my eye. I then notice familiar light cool-toned strands of hair resting on my shoulder.
Emilia leans onto my cheek, one arm wrapping around my torso with the other holding my pistol as I shutter with a short gasp.
“You don’t need to hide under that facade anymore. You’re a lot stronger than you think, Miya.”
The softness of her cheek and gentle touch leave my body. My legs give out and I fall to the floor with a thump. My eyes watered as I clench my hands into fists.
The clicks of her heeled boots stop in front of me, I look up to her looming over me with a sadistic smile and glowing silver eyes. She nibbles on her index fingernail resting on her glossed and brim lips before bending down, tilting my head up with two fingers.
“Before I was promoted to Coordinant, I was a Patroller for Terminal 276 of Sector 9. At first, all I did was simple tasks… Seducing owners of space-station casinos for their, generous donations; Manipulating crashes in galactic currencies to topple planetary units; Even the occasional brain-implant for disobedient leaders both inside and out the Federation."
With a deep breath, I rest my nerves and close my eyes, getting back onto my feet. My eyelids then flash open, making direct eye contact with Emelia as she performs a soft chuckle. She then taps the surface of her desk, causing a small white ray to form a square, it then lifting upward.
A set of neatly aligned sheeny-metal cigars with red and blue lights swirling around the tips appear from the hutch. Emelia takes one of the cigars and places it in between her lips, tapping the end as she releases a puff of crimson smoke from her nostrils; her mouth giving off an azure flare as if she was a dragon emitting a flame.
“Fooled you, didn’t I? You seriously thought you were going to get away with holding a rifle to my head? Don’t treat me as if I’m one of your aloof subordinates or lazy high-ranking imbeciles down there, ushering you ensigns along to do their busy work. I didn’t get this position for having a pretty face.”
Another flame spurts from her mouth, this time a white flare illuminating her face’s half-smile while creating a shadow on the upper side of her face. She rests an arm beneath her bosom, leaning her hand on her arched inner arm.
“Ever wonder why you’re given militant training, yet you’ve never had to engage in combat to protect your homey little space terminals? That’s because whenever there’s a situation, we, deal with it: From parasitic hybrids who can take the body of our loved ones while slowly taking nibbles on our innards while we sleep… Too galaxy rebels who find some new tech enabling them to crack an entire planet in half.”
She then takes a step forward in front of me, blowing a puff of red smoke from her nostrils covering my face.
The smell was similar to Yukravian hive-mind crystals… Thought those things were illegal.
“… You’re correct, but it helps keep my telesthesia under control. If not, I’d be fore-sighting the minds of everyone in the cosmos all at once.”
My eyebrow twitches as I give her a glare. “There’s really no privacy with you, is there?”
Emelia grins, showing the pointed canine teeth resting at the sides of her mouth. “You remember Acruspat? 696-AC-76? The space farmer who belonged to some organization that liked splitting kids open for their godhead?”
I nod.
“A Patroller was there a few months earlier, we made a deal that if he gave up his organization’s leader that we’d let him live along with his daughter. After several reports from the local farmers that their children had gone missing, it wasn’t obvious who the culprit was. But that was fine, we thought it would go that way anyway.”
That doesn’t make any sense… Why would they intentionally leave a man with murderous intent on a planet knowing he may strike once more?
Emelia puffs another ball of red smoke from her nostrils. “Tryouts.”
“… What? Tryouts?” I restate, disregarding the fact she read my thoughts once more.
“Yes. And it was getting quite sparse with potential candidates. Five ensigns got themselves killed, three others ran back to headquarters with their tails between their legs; Had to dispose of them before they disclosed our little game to the rest of your unit. The last seven lost their nerve, their psychological levels spiked and they shot themselves right then and there. Truly pathetic, indeed.”
My fist curls into a ball at my side.
That’s why the girl recognized my badge… The report said only an inspection was needed and that no other ensigns had checked the area. I suppose that was a lie.
“But something did come up from it, you, Miya. You not only took the farmer's life, but you also killed his daughter without any spikes to your psyche. Justifying that she might come back to be an issue for the Federation was quite stunning. You even called yourself a given term… What was it?… A ‘problem solver?’”
My eyes search her face before scrunching down toward the ground.
“I need problem solvers, like you Miya. Enforcers, who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty and are able to issue justice in the name of the Galactic Empire… In whatever twisted form needed to keep the peace.”
I lift my gaze back up and take a deep sigh. “I'm guessing that this is when you tell me that I've passed the test."
Emelia smiles and nods her head. "You could say that. Yes, you passed."
"Then you're about to offer me the position of Patroller, correct?"
"And they say I'm the mind-reader."
My eyes then perform a quick glimpse at my empty side holster. "And what if I refuse?"
"Weeell, despite the Federation's love for cruelty, you killing a citizen without clearance will lead to certain punishment. Along with the fact, that you told me about your disliking of the way they treat you will also have some form of retribution."
My hands unravel along with my shoulders losing their tension.
"Oh gosh, I even told you where the Ya'valt's higher echelon stay at, which is classified information... With all of that..."
A whir comes from her side as she takes my rifle from her hip and aims the nozzle at my forehead.
"... If you were to leave here today, you're basically dead. I could perhaps save you the trouble and do it for you. I wouldn’t want to give ‘them’ the satisfaction of killing you themselves."
Tryouts.
My hand squeezes onto the trigger. However, the cold metal of my weapon is replaced by a sudden gust of wind with its weight lifted from my arm.
My black hair sways behind me along with a sudden break of air hitting my front. I then notice a shadow lingering above my head as my eyes focus on the floor with widened eyes.
“… Very good, it took a bit of pushing but your instincts took over.”
Hesitant to move a muscle, my iris darts to the corner of my eye. I then notice familiar light cool-toned strands of hair resting on my shoulder.
Emilia leans onto my cheek, one arm wrapping around my torso with the other holding my pistol as I shutter with a short gasp.
“You don’t need to hide under that facade anymore. You’re a lot stronger than you think, Miya.”
The softness of her cheek and gentle touch leave my body. My legs give out and I fall to the floor with a thump. My eyes watered as I clench my hands into fists.
The clicks of her heeled boots stop in front of me, I look up to her looming over me with a sadistic smile and glowing silver eyes. She nibbles on her index fingernail resting on her glossed and brim lips before bending down, tilting my head up with two fingers.
“Before I was promoted to Coordinant, I was a Patroller for Terminal 276 of Sector 9. At first, all I did was simple tasks… Seducing owners of space-station casinos for their, generous donations; Manipulating crashes in galactic currencies to topple planetary units; Even the occasional brain-implant for disobedient leaders both inside and out the Federation."
With a deep breath, I rest my nerves and close my eyes, getting back onto my feet. My eyelids then flash open, making direct eye contact with Emelia as she performs a soft chuckle. She then taps the surface of her desk, causing a small white ray to form a square, it then lifting upward.
A set of neatly aligned sheeny-metal cigars with red and blue lights swirling around the tips appear from the hutch. Emelia takes one of the cigars and places it in between her lips, tapping the end as she releases a puff of crimson smoke from her nostrils; her mouth giving off an azure flare as if she was a dragon emitting a flame.
“Fooled you, didn’t I? You seriously thought you were going to get away with holding a rifle to my head? Don’t treat me as if I’m one of your aloof subordinates or lazy high-ranking imbeciles down there, ushering you ensigns along to do their busy work. I didn’t get this position for having a pretty face.”
Another flame spurts from her mouth, this time a white flare illuminating her face’s half-smile while creating a shadow on the upper side of her face. She rests an arm beneath her bosom, leaning her hand on her arched inner arm.
“Ever wonder why you’re given militant training, yet you’ve never had to engage in combat to protect your homey little space terminals? That’s because whenever there’s a situation, we, deal with it: From parasitic hybrids who can take the body of our loved ones while slowly taking nibbles on our innards while we sleep… Too galaxy rebels who find some new tech enabling them to crack an entire planet in half.”
She then takes a step forward in front of me, blowing a puff of red smoke from her nostrils covering my face.
The smell was similar to Yukravian hive-mind crystals… Thought those things were illegal.
“… You’re correct, but it helps keep my telesthesia under control. If not, I’d be fore-sighting the minds of everyone in the cosmos all at once.”
My eyebrow twitches as I give her a glare. “There’s really no privacy with you, is there?”
Emelia grins, showing the pointed canine teeth resting at the sides of her mouth. “You remember Acruspat? 696-AC-76? The space farmer who belonged to some organization that liked splitting kids open for their godhead?”
I nod.
“A Patroller was there a few months earlier, we made a deal that if he gave up his organization’s leader that we’d let him live along with his daughter. After several reports from the local farmers that their children had gone missing, it wasn’t obvious who the culprit was. But that was fine, we thought it would go that way anyway.”
That doesn’t make any sense… Why would they intentionally leave a man with murderous intent on a planet knowing he may strike once more?
Emelia puffs another ball of red smoke from her nostrils. “Tryouts.”
“… What? Tryouts?” I restate, disregarding the fact she read my thoughts once more.
“Yes. And it was getting quite sparse with potential candidates. Five ensigns got themselves killed, three others ran back to headquarters with their tails between their legs; Had to dispose of them before they disclosed our little game to the rest of your unit. The last seven lost their nerve, their psychological levels spiked and they shot themselves right then and there. Truly pathetic, indeed.”
My fist curls into a ball at my side.
That’s why the girl recognized my badge… The report said only an inspection was needed and that no other ensigns had checked the area. I suppose that was a lie.
“But something did come up from it, you, Miya. You not only took the farmer's life, but you also killed his daughter without any spikes to your psyche. Justifying that she might come back to be an issue for the Federation was quite stunning. You even called yourself a given term… What was it?… A ‘problem solver?’”
My eyes search her face before scrunching down toward the ground.
“I need problem solvers, like you Miya. Enforcers, who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty and are able to issue justice in the name of the Galactic Empire… In whatever twisted form needed to keep the peace.”
I lift my gaze back up and take a deep sigh. “I'm guessing that this is when you tell me that I've passed the test."
Emelia smiles and nods her head. "You could say that. Yes, you passed."
"Then you're about to offer me the position of Patroller, correct?"
"And they say I'm the mind-reader."
My eyes then perform a quick glimpse at my empty side holster. "And what if I refuse?"
"Weeell, despite the Federation's love for cruelty, you killing a citizen without clearance will lead to certain punishment. Along with the fact, that you told me about your disliking of the way they treat you will also have some form of retribution."
My hands unravel along with my shoulders losing their tension.
"Oh gosh, I even told you where the Ya'valt's higher echelon stay at, which is classified information... With all of that..."
A whir comes from her side as she takes my rifle from her hip and aims the nozzle at my forehead.
"... If you were to leave here today, you're basically dead. I could perhaps save you the trouble and do it for you. I wouldn’t want to give ‘them’ the satisfaction of killing you themselves."
