"Frightened Plea: Please remove him. He won't leave me alone and he keeps threatening to throw peanuts at me."
"That'ssss 'cuz you belong in a zoo! Whoooo let you out of yer cage?!"
And to think, Daxon Vahan thought this was going to be a good day.
The burgundy-skinned Turian officer absently ran a free three-fingered hand across his fringe. The other was clutching a datapad with which he was gathering the statements from the Elcor and the human.
For all intents and purposes, it was a beautiful day. The artificial sunlight was shining brightly in the Citadel Presidium. The ceiling was a perennial display of a light blue sky peppered with fluffy white clouds. The "sun's" light danced along the massive white walls and beams of the station. It glimmered off the surfaces of the ponds below and shone on Daxon's blue-and-black standard-issue light armor.
But this beautiful day was going to be the longest of Daxon's life if he didn't find a solution to this altercation inside the new few minutes. The last thing he and the Citadel Security Services Enforcement Division needed was a fight between an Elcor and a human. The Elcor were so few on the Citadel and human beings were such newcomers to the galactic scene. Right now, politics ruled the halls of the Citadel with so many changes on the horizon. All Daxon needed was one member of the damn press to show up and this would be blown sky-high across the airwaves.
His job would be blown to pieces with it.
"Alright, the both of you just calm down," Daxon barked in a flanging voice that was a signature of his people. He tried to sound as authoritative as he could. At just 20 years old, he hated that his voice still carried a higher pitch that he believed was unbefitting to a C-Sec Enforcement Officer.
"Tell me what happened again."
The human teetered where he stood.
"Oshifer, I found thish elephant that had gotten out of the Shitadel Zoo! I made shure he washn't goin' nowhere!"
The man hiccupped and crossed his arms across his chest in a proud manner.
"Yer welcome."
If he were witnessing this situation as a bystander, Daxon would have laughed out loud. The middle-aged human man was clearly drunk off his squishy ass. Daxon never knew how humans put up with all that sagging flesh.
With humanity being the newborns in the galaxy, just discovered 12 years ago by the Turians, Daxon mused that this human had been all too happy to sample all of the "alien" beverages the Citadel had to offer, in excess.
Daxon had no idea what an "elephant" was but he wagered this human had never seen an Elcor before.
In his time with C-Sec, Daxon had made a point to get to know all the races he'd be encountering. Growing up on the colony of Taetrus, all he had known were his fellow Turians. Seeing so many bright and eccentric new faces on the Citadel had been overwhelming at first but he learned the ropes as he went along.
The Elcor usually kept to their embassy on the Citadel which is why Daxon found it strange to see one out in the open. In his talks with their ambassador, Daxon found the Elcor to be a very conservative race, so the sight of a loud and drunken human must be terrifying to them, to say the least.
Daxon smiled internally, wishing the Elcor weren't so shy. As giant masses of thick, gray skin standing on four muscular legs that might as well be tree trunks, any Elcor could have easily crushed the much smaller human underfoot.
Daxon shook his head. He really needed to stop wishing violence upon humans. It made him biased in his job….and it's not what his father would have wanted.
Daxon could see that the human's outburst visibly shook the Elcor. The behemoth shivered, the ocean-blue mat on the creature's back shaking with it.
"Entreating Inquiry: Officer, what is a zoo? And what are peanuts? Are they weapons?"
The Elcor was clearly feeling a level of fear not conveyed by its deep, monotone voice. Daxon supposed that was why their kind preceded every statement with a declaration of feeling.
He held up a reassuring hand to the Elcor. Peanuts, he knew. He had to keep an eye on human cuisine. Humans were levo-amino-based beings. Turians were dextro-amino-based. While the small nut was no weapon, if Daxon ate one it would kill him at worst and lay him up for a day at best.
"I promise you, they're not," Daxon told the Elcor. "I assure you you're perfectly safe where you are."
The Elcor seemed unconvinced, as least as unconvinced as its expressionless face could show. Its small, beady eyes blinked once at Daxon and the series of slits down its face which served as its mouth contracted slightly, as if the Elcor was holding its breath for a more convincing reassurance.
Daxon continued. "Did this human accost you first?"
The Elcor nodded its massive head. "Genuine Reply: Yes, he did. I was merely on my way back to my embassy when he cried out and came toward me."
The human dramatically shot his hands out at his sides in a "why not" gesture.
"How elsh was I shupposhed to get you back to the zoooooo?!"
Daxon had heard enough. As far as he was concerned, that was a declaration of intent from the human. He didn't need to do a field test on the man. The human's eyes were glazed and he couldn't hold a stable standing position for longer than ten seconds. That was all Daxon needed to see.
He typed a new series of keystrokes on his datapad, rounding out the preliminary details of a report he would undoubtedly have to compile later, and turned back to the Elcor, nodding his head.
"You're free to go, sir. Don't you worry. I'm getting this man off the streets of the Citadel so he can't hurt anyone."
The Elcor nodded again, no doubt all too happy to be clear of this madness.
"Grateful Declaration: I will gladly go. You have brought clarity to a moment that would have given even the Elders pause. You have my thanks."
With that, the great, lumbering alien began slowly turning and walking away toward the Presidium Embassies, much to the dismay of the human.
"Heyyy! Shtop him! He'sh getting away!"
In the next second, Daxon placed a firm, armored hand on the man's chest, stopping him dead in his tracks.
"He's fine. He's not the problem, sir. You are," Daxon said. "I'm going to need to see some identification."
The human crossed his arms again, making a large huffing noise and hardening his gaze on Daxon. Daxon knew enough about human biology that, judging by the man's scraggly brown stubble and the redness spreading across his eyes, this man had been enjoying his own little private party for several days now.
"Hmph! I don't gotta show you nothin'! It's 2169! I got rights!"
"You're certainly right, sir. You do have rights, the right to remain silent being one of them. I wholeheartedly suggest taking advantage of it."
Daxon's burgundy mandibles pulled tightly around his mouth. What he should do, what he wanted to do, was cold-clock the drunk and drape him over his shoulder, carrying him to a cell until he sobered up. The Turian did his best to contain his growing anger over this entire situation. He was facing hours of paperwork later this afternoon all because this human was a fan of overindulging.
Instead of the much more appealing cold-clocking option, Daxon grudgingly opted for a peaceful approach.
"What I should do is dump you in a nice cozy cell in the Wards for the day, but I was in a good mood before bumping into you. As you humans say, I woke up on the left side of the bed."
The drunk human blinked a couple times at Daxon.
"It'sh the right shide of the bed."
Daxon's mandibles twitched. He didn't show it, but inside he was chastising himself for getting the analogy wrong. Getting a humanism wrong, no less.
"I'm in the mood to give you a chance to be escorted home," Daxon continued, plowing through his faux pas. "No harm, no foul. But you have to give me an ID now or I take you down to HQ, put you in that cell and figure out who you are on our database while you make friends with your cellmates. "
The drunken human just stared straight ahead at Daxon, grinning crookedly.
"Yer just mad 'cuz we blew yer buddies to hell in the war."
It only took five seconds for the human's arms to be twisted behind his back and his hands to be cuffed.
"Yowch! What the hell're you doin'?! You can't do thish!"
Daxon roughly clasped one hand on the man's shoulder and grabbed the back of the man's head with the other, forcibly steering the human's body around to gaze at the Relay Monument, a scale reconstruction of a mass relay that stood at the center of the Presidium surrounded by grassy areas and various bridges leading across the massive station.
"You see this? The Presidium? It's called being in public. You humans understand the concept of public, right?"
The man tried to squirm but Daxon's grip proved to be like an iron vice. Daxon leaned his face in just inches from the man's ear to drive his menacing point home.
"You're intoxicated in public. I gave you a way out and you didn't take it. Now you're facing an extended stay in jail and a hefty amount of credits out of your pocket."
He roughly wheeled the man around toward the Wards this time and began marching him there.
"Let's go meet your new friends. They love new blood."
-PTH—
The iron-barred doors slammed shut and the drunken man immediately ran toward them, seizing them in both hands.
"Ish thish what getsh you off, bird-brain?!"
Becca Upton swung in her chair in her cubicle nearby the holding cell down in the Lower Wards, right in the C-Sec Academy. The human woman flipped her dark bangs out of her face and smiled coyly up at Daxon.
"You always bring home the most savory people. My Mom and Dad would love you."
Daxon scoffed under his breath at the thought. He didn't understand why humans needed to joke so much.
But Becca, he liked. Among humans, Daxon considered her an exception. She had a quick wit and a fast tongue but the skill to back it up. In her short five months with C-Sec, she had proven herself to be one of the top intelligence gatherers on the Citadel. More often than not, she was in Daxon's ear while he was on the ground, alerting him to anything happening in the Wards or in the Presidium.
He also guessed that, by human standards, she was very attractive. She had short, dark black hair cut at the shoulders, a trim waist and a shapely torso. The Turian supposed that it showed good initiative that she kept in shape while her job had her sidelined to a desk. Daxon had witnessed many a human male walk by her desk soliciting her out for one night or another. Daxon was indifferent on that matter. He was a Turian and didn't much care to look too deeply into the attraction standards for humans. Becca had no fringe, for one thing.
What Becca did have was Daxon's trust. She was an ally, a cherished one in the field. According to Daxon, that was all she needed to be to garner his respect, even if she did know how to push his buttons just right.
Another cry from the drunk interrupted his contemplation.
"Hey! I'm gonna get out of thish, hire a lawyer and bury you like we did at Shanxi!"
That made Becca pay attention. She looked back up at Daxon with a knowing look.
"Ouch. He dogged you on the war. I bet it sucked to be him after that." She offered Daxon a comforting smile.
He nodded back to her, but kept his murky green eyes locked on the drunk. The discovery of humanity 12 years ago hadn't really been the most peaceful of encounters. Turians called it the "Relay 314 Incident." For the humans, they knew it as the "First Contact War." Daxon had only been 8 years old at the time of the Incident, but it left his family torn apart in a way that Daxon would never forget.
The Turian waved a dismissive hand toward the drunk.
"I figure a 24-hour session in the cooler will get him all sobered up in time for his hearing before a judge," Daxon told Becca, making his way to the icebox in the office. "The higher-ups will decide the terms of his stay in prison and how much money he'll have to hand over."
"You're the patron saint of Elcor everywhere!" Becca called after him, smiling slyly.
"Fantastic," Daxon laughed her comment off. "Mom would be so proud."
He opened up the door of the icebox and bent over to inspect its contents. At 6'2", Daxon always seemed to be a head taller than most things.
"Alright, who drank the last dextro protein shake?!" Daxon yelled in a muffled tone with his head still in the cold air of the icebox.
Becca adopted a pouty face. "Awww, did you not leave your name on it?"
"Very funny."
Daxon shut the icebox door, resigning himself to the fact that, for now, he worked on an empty stomach.
He cracked his neck from side to side walking back to Becca. It looked like the drunk had given up his tirade and was slumped in a sitting position inside his cell with his back to them.
"Well, I guess I better get to writing that report on our drunken friend," Daxon tiredly admitted. "The sooner I can get back out on the streets, the better."
Becca was about to respond when Daxon held up a hand, hearing a beeping in his earpiece. He gestured toward it with a finger and gave her a quizzical look.
Becca shook her head. "Not me."
Daxon waited one second longer and then brought a hand up to receive the call.
"Officer Vahan here."
"Dax?! Thank the Goddess! Are you on a case right now?"
Daxon recognized the voice immediately and smiled. There were few people he permitted to call him by "Dax." Outside of his family, he entrusted that privilege to few. Even Becca was forbidden from it.
But not this voice.
"Aura!" Daxon happily exclaimed. "Please save me from paperwork! With any luck, I can pawn it off on the nearest intern."
"I need you down at customs right now, Dax. There's something here you really need to see."
The lack of counter-joking on her part concerned Daxon immediately. She would usually fire back with a quip of her own. Whatever this thing that she was talking about was, it had to be serious if the fun was taken out of her voice.
"Customs?" He asked. "Aura, that'll take me at least 20 minutes to make my way over there…."
Daxon turned toward Becca but kept the channel with Aura open.
"Which officer do we have posted near customs?" he asked Becca.
But before Becca could type a single key, Aura spoke up again in Daxon's ear, sounding a little more hushed this time.
"Please, Dax. Can you come? I just….I really need you to be here. I need someone I know and can trust to look at this."
Daxon paused for a moment, letting silence fall. His burgundy mandibles twitched once as his mind pulsed, trying to figure out what could be so urgent that she needed him and only him over at the Citadel customs checkpoints.
Whatever it was, Daxon trusted Aura. He knew she wouldn't impose this much unless she really needed him. That was all the Turian needed to know.
"On my way," he said.
