Chapter 4: The Saboteur's Identity

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Bogon, Ratatosk system in the Igdrasil Sector. 9 December, 17:19 Standard Time

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Angela sits at a desk, looking at a computer screen with Ambercombie Fizzwidget. He listens intently as she finishes, ". . . I am certain he was truthful about his desire to keep the technology in his suit from the Ta'ree. He was willing to sacrifice himself to destroy it, but he didn't want to kill me. If he did, he would have released the detonator and blown us all up."

"Hmm . . . very well. Since you insist, I'll grant you authorization to hide his technology from the Ta'ree. Maybe our tech department could have a look at it." Angela shoots a condescending glare at Fizzwidget, and he shrugs his shoulders. "But what do you suggest we do about the saboteur? The Ta'ree are bound to ask why four of their ships and so much of their equipment were destroyed. I'd prefer not to have to blatantly lie to them."

Angela rubs her arm, thinking. "I'm not sure what to tell them. Or perhaps we could leave it at a saboteur, and state that we captured him. It would leave him in our jurisdiction." Before the conversation can continue, a timer on the computer begins beeping. Angela rolls her eyes. "Oh, yeah. I'm scheduled to interrogate him at 17:25."

Fizzwidget thinks, furrowing his eyebrows. "Aren't there already security personnel there who can take care of it?"

"In normal circumstances, yes. Unfortunately, the doctors say he's resistant to every drug he's been given, and he'll only talk to me. I don't know why yet."

Fizzwidget shrugs and shuts off the transmission. Angela clicks off the computer and stands up from the cubicle. She makes her way to the temporary brig – a small set of crew quarters, cleared out by other security personnel. She stops at the door and nods to the pair of guards. One turns around and enters a combination to open the door. It slides open and Angela walks in, nodding to the two guards inside. They nod back and one walks to the far door leading to what would normally be the bedroom; in this case the prisoner's cell.

The guard opens the door and steps back. Angela walks into the cleared bedroom. Everything has been removed: decorations, furniture – the only sign they were there are bolt holes in the floor for the furniture. The lombax prisoner is dressed in a basic Megacorp jumpsuit since there were no prisoner uniforms and Angela didn't want to risk finding out that he had weaponry or some unpleasant gadget hidden in his own clothing.

The lombax currently lies on his side on the floor, back against the wall, curled up in sleep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically as he draws in deep breaths, then expels the air with a silent ruffle of the fur around his mouth. Now that he's not wearing his armor, she can get a better look at his features. The fur seems to be a uniform brown-off-orange like she thought earlier, but the stripes that she only saw on the cheeks appear to continue on his drooped ears and it indeed gives him a semblance to a tiger.

Angela steps into the room and notices an odd flick of the prisoner's ears before the door closes behind her. She stands next to the door and crosses her arms in front of her chest, noting that every time she finds him, he seems to be sleeping. "Don't you ever get sleep back home?"

"You could say I move around a lot."

Angela's eyes widen momentarily from surprise and her arms snap to her sides, but she quickly pulls herself back together and hides her expression behind a mask of indifference.

The lombax opens his mouth in a wide but silent yawn. He rolls over onto his knees and once on all fours, stretches in a manner that looks very much like a cat to Angela. After stretching, he stands up and looks at her but doesn't make eye contact, keeping his violet eyes downcast.

"The guards tell me that you're completely silent around them. Why is it that you talk to me?"

The corners of the prisoner's mouth turn up, though Angela isn't certain that he is smiling. "You really don't know?" Angela stands steady, not a muscle moves, so the prisoner continues. "You're the one who defeated me." He makes a half turn away and looks down as his shoulders droop a little. "Even at the risk of your own life."

"What's your name?"

The lombax smiles and remains at profile to Angela. "Trying to fill in blanks on your paperwork when you hand me over to the Ta'ree like refuse?"

Angela raises her right eyebrow at the rather oddly-worded statement. "I know you have a name. I heard your partner call you something over your helmet transceiver." The lombax jerks away at the mention of his accomplices. He sits down on the floor, cross-legged, then closes his eyes. Angela sighs, having hoped to make some progress in this interrogation. "Come on. We're not going to hand you over to the Ta'ree."

The prisoner's eyes pop open and his gaze flit towards Angela, wondering if she speaks the truth. She hasn't lied to him yet, and though most people give him a hostile, isolating sensation, he doesn't sense any of that from Cross. He looks forward again, Angela assumes to avoid eye contact. "My father named me...Rusko. He told me it meant 'cunning and agile as the fox'."

"I'm Angela Cross. I…actually have no idea what it means."

Rusko glances at Angela in surprise. He breathes in and out once, forcing himself to relax. After a moment of collecting himself, he walks to the far wall and leans against it, trying to look casual.

"What were you doing on the freighter?" Angela crosses her arms again and looks over the prisoner, as if her piercing gaze could reveal some of his secrets.

Rusko snaps with an intensity in his voice just below a shout, "What did you think I was doing? I was planting explosive charges on the weapons you were shipping to the Ta'ree." He takes a step away from the wall and crosses his arms behind his back, holding his elbows in his palms, then begins to pace. "We were at a deadlock in the war, but our…recruitment was about to bolster our ranks. It's a long and drawn out war, but at least my people would have had peace." He looks to Angela, not quite succeeding in with-holding a glare as his eyes lock onto the Megacorp logo on her armor uniform. "Then suddenly they acquired an influx of ships and technology."

Rusko blinks at Angela and forces himself to look away from the Megacorp logo. He stomps towards her and she tenses. He brings up his hand and holds his index finger and thumb less than an inch apart. "We were this close to finally . . . making a difference." He turns away and walks back to the far wall to begin pacing again. His eyes dart about and he remembers the day he narrowly escaped being caught himself.

Rusko sat, looking out the window of an apartment in a high-rise building. Shouts rose up from the increasingly packed streets below as the police rounded up thousands of people. He looked out of the window with a set of binoculars in his hand. The police had their usual "zap prods", but now there were dozens and dozens of red and white robots with them. Using the binoculars, he took a closer look at the robots. They were very humanoid, armed with some sort of rifles in each hand. Stamped on the back of the heads he noticed a strange symbol he would later learn was the Megacorp logo.

A buzzing from the front door makes him jump. He hears a knocking and the police on the other side shout, "Open up in there!"

Angela looks over the prisoner, thinking she's hearing a hint of the pounded-out memorized story in what he says. "So, I'm guessing that you're going to tell me that all Ta'ree are evil?"

Rusko's attention snaps to the voice that interrupted his secret memory. "All people who are not Ta'ree are their enemies." With the possible exception of humans. "They may tolerate humans, but everyone else is their enemy." Rusko steps back to eye Angela, and she gets the disturbing sensation that he's sizing her up, the same way a lion does stragglers of a herd of gazelle. "Especially us. If you don't believe me, just show up to meet the proconsul they'll be sending to inspect the delivery."

"Fine. Maybe I'll go do that." She turns towards the door and begins walking out.

Rusko wasn't expecting her to acquiesce so easily, he expected her to ignore everything he said about the Ta'ree. Of course, she had every reason to be suspicious. He was a prisoner, trying to blow up shipments to the Ta'ree. Before Angela steps out the door, he gets her attention, "Wait!" She pauses, one foot inside the doorway and one foot outside, half-turned to look at him. "Be careful. He could try to kill you on sight."