5

"In Crisis"


Despite nearly seven million years of colonizing countless planets, subjugating all the lifeforms in fifty-seven galaxies, and making all realms of scientific advancement as amazing as possible - there truly was no place like A-1, the first and original planet of the human race.

Earth.

Earth itself had been rebuilt so many times that the ancient images of A-1 - the blue planet sparkling with green land masses - was nothing but a historical tale shrouded in myth now. If an observer were to see the planet today, floating beyond the atmosphere - Earth still bore the same traditional color patterns from its history; blue masses and green splotches. However, enter the planet and the picture would be completely different - the color patterns were merely symbolic, imitated recreations done by a satellite drone network that circumnavigated the planet. Additionally, the day and night cycle was no longer relevant to Earth - the ancient "Sun" had been repurposed as an energy crystal source, and the ancient "moon" had been destroyed nearly five million years prior - now, the satellite drone network bathed the planet in splendid yet artificial yellow light, suspending life on Earth in a perpetual morning phase.

Earth was the epicenter of the Alliance, its commercial, cultural, and political capital, and the most widely-visited/most-desired planet according to nearly every intergalactic poll. Part of its charm was its extremely advanced and complex architecture - despite being a relatively small planet, it boasted cutting edge hyperspace buildings and a gigantic, thriving metropolis that stretched from one corner of the world to the next. Earth's history saw its demography broken up into countries and continents previously, but with the extinguishment of all cultures and nationalities by the Alliance nearly three million years ago - there was only one unified megacity on the planet now. The city itself ran all across the globe, crossing millions of square kilometers - all connected by a hyperspeed railway that could house millions of passengers at once. Transport for even great distances on foot took just a few moments, as a railway passenger could be at the North Pole one moment then the South Pole the next.

Aside from the ancient Poles - only kept for "cultural" preservation reasons - the rest of Earth was completely different from its historical basis. The megacity almost seemed like a never-ending valley of skyscrapers mixed with intricate, twisting architecture and life - neon beams, zooming drones, elegantly-robed humans, cyberparks, holographic schooling facilities, booming tech industries, miniaturized nano-hospitals stocked with drone doctors… the unified megacity, which stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, at any point in the planet - was lost in a sensory assault of flashing lights, bustling carbon tube roads, luxurious yet toweringly aesthetic architecture in all colors, and the general impression that only the richest, most powerful, most elite of all of the ninety quadrillion lifeforms living under the Alliance - only such individuals could be granted access here. The buildings were constructed out of pure carbon nano-tubed energy crystals, shaped in all geometric possibilities to cover the entire planet in a sea of twisting yet beautifully intricate hyperspace architecture. The lucky humans who lived here had an incredible selection for consumerism: clothes etched from the finest graphene cloths, a diverse catalogue of over a billion food choices, a healthcare system that promised nearly a 100,000 year lifespans, and a population that was almost pointlessly successful, wealthy, and powerful. Five year old children brought up on Earth were expected to have, at the very least - permanent access to refined cosmic vehicles, personal cyber-estates, and a small army of service drones. Roads and lanes in the gigantic megacity were littered with bustling activity - as thousands of humans walked, took cyber transport, drove space hummers and raced cosmic bikes, and had a seemingly infinite selection of career choices to choose from. Additionally, Earth's predominant culture was hedonism - in all forms, all perversions, and all industries on Earth had been grown to satisfy every possible human desire. Aside from incredible restaurant chains and privatized hotel industries, performance holo-theaters, and Alliance-subsidized museums - there were also huge nightclub sub-cultures, a completely legalized prostitution sector, virtual reality "cafes"... all designed to excite and charm the human desires in every manner possible. And so, to maintain incredible standards for the rare few humans who could live here, a population quota was in strict effect: no more than ten million humans were allowed inside, a point backed up by the incredibly heavy AP presence outside the planet's atmosphere. A full fleet of space warships, a lethal, globe-trotting disintegrative forcefield, one personal space commander, and nearly ten percent of all the APs in the fifty-seven galaxies - all were guarding this incredibly and politically illustrious capital for the Alliance.

The singular megacity was centered around the Alliance Supreme Headquarters, a monolith of a multi-colored, glowing Citadel that skyrocketed nearly thirty thousand feet in the air. The Citadel was so strictly controlled by surrounding AP battalions that entry was only permitted to perhaps nine humans - the four Designators, and the five AP Commanders. And if an observer were to somehow reach the top-floor of such a building, which was essentially the intergalactic "control point" for the fifty-seven galaxies - they might find a remarkably simple, white-walled room with no windows; with only two golden-colored figures inside: an armored AP Commander Omega, and one robed Designator.

"You've been summoned here because of the events on Pluto," the Designator spoke, thin eyebrows and static face hiding his anger. "Can you relay the events to me?"

Omega frowned, turning down his head in shame. "Pluto was - attacked by the - the terrorist."

"He murdered the Mayor," the Designator spoke, robotic face just twisting in annoyance. "Murder. One man - just killed an Alliance politician - in the Milky Way Galaxy! The same galaxy that our inter-galactic capital is located in!"

The Designator let these words sink in Omega's head. Although some degree of dissent was to be expected from some of the population, especially the duty workers - this was the first time ever in Alliance history, that a singular individual had managed to break free of his Designations and publicly murder an official. The mere chance of this happening was so low that when the Designator had heard the news, he almost thought his holo-panel was malfunctioning. It was twofold - one, that the terrorist had managed to do something that no one else before him had even come close to doing… and second, realizing that the event happened on the same galaxy Earth was in, on a planet that was quite literally one simple teleport away. It could be frightening to think what were the capabilities of such a man - one who could single-handedly strike close to the heart of the Alliance, then threaten to do much more.

"He makes demands," Omega noted, checking his own holo-panel. "States conditions for duty workers must be improved - and - reparations paid."

"Impossible," the Designator quickly cut off. "This all - our entire society - works because of the evolutionary sacrifice of our duty workers."

Omega nodded.

"That's what they're evolved to do - what they're meant to do," the Designator forced. "How can we humans possibly enjoy such fantastic standards of living if this fool believes lifeforms as primitive as animals… deserve even a close semblance of equality?"

Omega nodded again. "He's a deluded optimist - he simply doesn't see that giving those primitives any power would just mean less happiness for the rest of us."

The Designator smiled in satisfaction. "Giving equality to the primitives would fractionate our energy crystal wealth. It could lead to mass starvation and quality of life loss to innumerable humans living across the fifty-seven galaxies…"

Omega sighed. "I'll get an AP patrol to - "

"We, the Designators - tried giving you and your fellow Commanders a chance," the Designator rebuked harshly. "And the result: you have failed to even find out who or where he is - much less apprehend him."

Omega took offense at this, recoiling. "We - we have some leads. A Senior Scout named Anthony Henderson… he might be..."

"Sounds like just speculation to me," the Designator responded angrily. "When do you plan to interview this man?"

"Soon," Omega noted.

The Designator merely growled in disgust.

Omega gulped. "Then - what is the alternative plan that you and your three compatriots have suggested?"

The Designator narrowed his eyes. "Submission to the principle of evolution is essential for peaceful life under the Alliance. No one - not even one man - must be allowed to counter this."

Omega agreed. "Yes…"

The Designator continued. "Therefore, by executive power we command the immediate blockade and commercial shutdown of the Milky Way Galaxy - and, if you still cannot find the terrorist within thirty days - the instant destruction of the Milky Way, and the seven surrounding galaxies - barring Earth, of course."

Omega gasped, horrified by the extreme nature of this declaration. "Sir, with all due respect - there's millions of Alliance planets in our home galaxy and its neighboring galaxies - along with half the human race! We can't just - "

"Commander Omega, resisting authorized Designations is a crime punishable by execution," the Designator started, snarling. "Are you - resisting?"

Omega shook his head, sighing. "No sir - I'll tell my officers right now."

The Designator resumed his static, neutral expression. "Complete submission, Commander Omega - that's the way this whole society, the way this Alliance grew to be the best model for governing the human race - knowing one's place."

Omega nodded again apathetically.

"And if many innocents must die to ensure complete, and utter submission… so be it."

. . .

"Tigress!"

"Tigress!"

"Oh come on - Tigress!"

Tigress shook her head, seeking to somehow keep the voice from annoying her. To her pleasant surprise, it was merely Naja - waking her gently with a few taps on the shoulder.

"Our teleport was intercepted by a roaming AP squad," Naja noted, tears flowing from her eyes. "Tigress, if they pass a bio-scanner over me - and realize I'm a hybrid…"

"Keep quiet," Tigress immediately corrected. "Lemme get my bearings…"

Tigress opened her eyes. Her first thought was to look outside the ship window - to realize that the man that had been outside was gone, imprint of his large palm still on the glass. This made sense, as the man had terrified the captain enough to do a mass-teleport - a normally illegal move, which would have surely set off enough Alliance drones surveying hyperspace and would explain why the ship was still and not moving now - it would have been detained in hyperspace and translocated to the nearest Alliance planet for questioning. The stasis beam fired by an AP squadron would have knocked out all the inhabitants inside the ship, which would explain why Tigress and Naja were just now waking up, completely confused. Tigress noted that the metallic interior of the ship hadn't quite been breached yet - although she noted that the ship captain was missing from the upper deck.

"We got detained and routed to Pluto," Naja spat angrily. "Freakin' Pluto…"

Tigress unbuckled her stasis belt from the bench, searching around the metal floor for her walking cane.

"Tigress - earlier a couple of APs came inside and took out the captain," Naja let out in frustration. "They didn't mess with us yet because I pretended to still be unconscious - and you well - you actually were unconscious…"

Tigress saw the cane below her feet, gingerly picking it up. She also brought out a small pair of reading glasses from the pocket of her blue robes, putting it on whilst activating her personal holo-panel to see recent messages.

"They'll be back soon!" Naja protested in fear. "Tigress - I can't let them find out I'm a hybrid…"

"Will you shut up, and let me focus for a few seconds?" Tigress forced in irritation.

She pressed the messages button on her holo-panel.

Playing messages.

1

Tigress - it's Han. There's some terrorist in the Milky Way - I don't think you guys are gonna get to the survey planet on time…

2

Tigress - it's Han. Holopanel at home just said that the maniac killed Pluto's mayor. No, I ain't bullshitting you, I'm being serious… please tell me you're okay.

3

It's Han again - Ti pick up your damn calls! They're saying the Milky Way might be shut down, and all space traffic stopped - please tell me you're okay.

Finished playing messages.

"Tigress?"

"Looks like we're in for a hell of a day," Tigress noted, standing up to prop herself on her cane. "Get up Naja - the APs will be in here soon."

Naja stood up, although she was petrified. "Wait why? What's going on?"

"Some lunatic just killed Pluto's mayor," Tigress emphasized. "And by our shitty luck - our fantastic captain teleported us right to it."

"Wait…" Naja started. "You're saying that the guy outside our window earlier - he really was a - a terrorist?"

"ATTENTION REMAINING TWO INHABITANTS. RAISE YOUR ARMS AND STAY QUIET. AP SQUADRON ENTERING SHIP."

The loud, booming voice came from outside the ship's doors. Tigress and Naja did as requested, incredibly afraid.

The ship doors elegantly opened up, letting in fresh sunlight. One large AP immediately strode in, pressing a scanning device on his golden armor - pointing it at both Tigress and Naja.

"Pre-Reformation name, Tigress - message transcriber, XS-211," the guard noted, then pointed the blue ray of light at Naja. "Name - Naja. Hybrid. Miner, XS-211."

Naja almost broke into tears again. "Please sir… please… I can explain…"

"Move forward," the guard directed.

Tigress obeyed, silently brushing past the AP with Naja, relying on her cane quite heavily as her knee started acting up again. Naja began whispering begging statements to her side.

"Tigress I'm scared… I'm so scared…"

"Just keep cool and let's figure out what's going on," Tigress whispered back, putting her reading glasses away. "We don't even know what's happening yet."

Naja sniffled. Both Tigress and Naja strode out of the ship doors.

The benefit of landing on Pluto was that refreshing sunlight was now hitting them, albeit artificially created light from drone networks in Pluto's dense sky. Still, landing on an Alliance planet - a privilege that Tigress had done only a few times in her fifty-eight years living under the Alliance - was always immensely pleasing to experience. It was leagues beyond XS-211 - Tigress and Naja felt the familiar shock of seeing a sprawling metropolis in front of them - tall skyscrapers stretching into the upper atmosphere, a hyperspeed railway surrounding the City Center, a variety of cyberschools, hotels, whizzing drones and holographic assistants… these were sights that animals could only dream of seeing, given that only humans were allowed to live on Alliance planets. Animals - if allowed - were only to be kept as pets, which meant even worse treatment than usual.

But it felt - off, this time. As Tigress and Naja walked forward on Pluto's artificial, grass terrain, escorted by five APs - they noted that the City Center approximately a few miles from them seemed barren and lifeless. Pluto was a party planet, so seeing this felt enormously confusing.

Even more confusing, they saw the ship captain be surrounded by ten APs by himself, being vigorously questioned.

"Here's the rest of the witnesses," the senior AP behind Tigress sounded off. "Commander Delta, you wanna do the honors?"

Tigress swallowed in fear. The AP named Commander Delta was renowned for his ruthless demeanor, even more so than Omega - the chief AP left the battalion questioning the ship captain, striding over to Tigress and Naja with a ferocious gaze.

"You," Delta forced, poking Tigress hard in the sternum with his rifle butt. "Can you confirm that idiot's story? You three actually saw the terrorist?"

Tigress nudged Naja to keep quiet. She watched the ship captain kneel on the grass, surrounded by the rifle ends of nine APs - looking at Tigress with utter fear.

"We were enroute to a planet to attend an annual survey," Tigress slowly mentioned. "Then the captain told us we were being rerouted because of AP activity. Then we saw - the terrorist - press his hand against the ship - erm - window."

Delta seemed very interested by this. "Hmmm… describe him."

Tigress nodded. "Very large, erm - male I guess. Red and black carbon armor - double nanolayering, I think…"

"Yes yes we know that already!" Delta forced, shoving Tigress again in the sternum as the the impact forced her to cough. "Mind telling us something distinctive about him - you old hag?"

Tigress rubbed at her injured area, trying to think of something. "Yeah - he had uh - arrows on his shoulder pads."

"Arrows?" Delta questioned. "Describe them."

"White, sharp, and long," Tigress continued. "I - I've never seen anything like them…"

Delta made a few notes on his holopanel, then turned to the AP behind both Tigress and Naja.

"Escort these two to the other witness - we can pool together more information after that," Delta concluded.

"O - Other witness?" Naja let out, unable to keep quiet.

"A terrorist breached past Pluto's security grid and killed the mayor," Delta nonchalantly stated. "We're taking you both to the only other witness who saw the whole thing - the mayor's pet."

Tigress nodded, following the crushing pressure of one APs hands behind her. Naja followed closeby, trekking on a grassy trail leading away from the ship and the captain surrounded by the APs - but also away from the glimmering City Center two miles away. Rather, they were being taken somewhere isolated - somewhere deep within Pluto's false foliage and holographic tree imitations that littered its fake, grassy prairie landscape.

"How the hell did they not care that I was a hybrid?" Naja whispered.

Tigress struggled to keep pace with the AP, who didn't seem to care that she was old and using a cane to move forward.

"There was just a terrorist attack," Tigress spat. "You really think they care about some quarter hybrid?"

"We've reached," the AP noted. "Tell your story to this lifeform as well. Once you three have concurred on a general description, we'll come back."

The AP marched off, leaving Tigress and Naja near a frightened and small red panda.

Tigress observed his attire. He had jagged scars over his enormously aged face, and running back down his body - his clothing was simple red robes, with a distinctive Alliance symbol painted onto the top and bottom to signify that he was a pet… and he walked with a slight limp.

A very distinctive limp.

A limp Tigress hadn't seen in many, many years.

The red panda merely looked up, eyes brimming with tears at the realization.

"Tigress."

Naja looked at Tigress, who stared right back at the red panda with a tearful gaze of her own - years of emotion rushing back in an inevitable burst of suppressed happiness. It took her longer to make the connection, but when she did - Tigress merely shut her eyes and hoped very desperately that this was some kind of sick dream.

"Father..."

. . .

HX-3 was one of the most famous Alliance planets, and coincidentally one of its most popular tourist hubs. The world was a ridiculously small dwarf planet, secluded in the far corners of the Orion Hypernebula - cosmic navigation equipment had to be manually recalibrated even to properly route spaceships to finding the location. Reach the tiny, artificially-constructed, completely metallic planet and one might see the sole tower resting on the planet's ground. The main draw of HX-3 was the tower, which housed the best intergalactic cuisine that energy crystals could buy - millions of ancient and modern human cultures had been imported and unified into one central restaurant that had been certified as the only true 100-starred restaurant in the fifty-seven galaxies. HX-3 was thus another strictly-controlled planet, with its own forcefield and heavy AP presence to limit customers to no more than a thousand humans.

The tower stretched about ten thousand feet in the air, which took it well beyond the reaches of HX-3's tiny atmospheric radius and into hyperspace. This was part of the shtick, however - the top floor allowed an incredible view of the surrounding galactic nebula, with star formations so crisp and colorful that half of the lofty reservation fee was just to take photos. Enter inside the floor however, and one could be treated to a deluxe layout of fifteen tables and holo-chairs, all overlaid over exquisite, silver painite flooring - a mineral so rare that it took years of refining to produce a single gram. The ceiling was carved out red gemstones and carbon-cooled compounds, which blended both "ancient" cooling mechanisms and more conventional ones. On the dining floor, wealthy couples sat in tables - awaiting bustling drone service to bring them food that most Alliance citizens could only dream about.

On one particular table, hidden at the very back end of the room - an aged man sat with his wife of 400 years, beauty of both partners just beginning to fade despite their formal black robes. She had fared better than him - a smooth, fair-skinned face with rosy lips along with a delicate red headscarf and long robes… the man grumbled in his overly tight one-piece suit, unaccustomed to being in something other than his AP outfit.

"Commander Sigma," the woman whispered sarcastically, watching her husband sit glumly in his blue holo-chair. "I am forbidding you to sulk this evening."

"You know how much I hate these things," Sigma responded, growling at the racuous laughter and superficial couples seated behind them. "All the pomp. The overly smiley morons… and the cost of this place jeez… what'd it set ya back Mel? Ten thousand crystals?

"Relax Sig," Mel responded effortlessly, adjusting her scarf. "For once. You know how hard it is to go out for stuff like this - when your husband is an AP Commander?"

"Ugh…"

"I mean I get loyalty to the Alliance and all that," Mel noted, frowning. "But - do you even remember the last time we went out somewhere?"

Sigma racked his brain, finding absolutely zero instances in the last few years.

"Too long," Mel finished, shaking her head. "So for God's sake - just relax and enjoy the moment…"

Sigma watched his wife lean back into her chair, as he took another look behind him. The ambience and colorful atmosphere of the dining room was great, and he truly appreciated Mel surprising him with a reservation here - despite him putting a big fight on the spaceship ride here - but it was still kind of too bougie for his tastes. All the couples here were either high-ranking work buddies of his or incredibly wealthy business people - and definitely, a lot of Earth-dwellers. It was this overly superficial and hedonic "culture" that had driven Sigma to live on B-23, a planet nearly ten galaxies away from Earth - which disappointed Mel, but also gave the AP Commander a reprieve from dealing with the infectiously shallow humans that he was forced to interact with on the job.

"Something up at work?" Mel asked genuinely. "I can always tell if something's on your mind…"

Sigma merely sighed, refusing to answer the question. "Let's just focus on flagging down a waiter drone…"

Sigma scanned the room, seeing no drones approaching.

"The website said we might have to wait a while," Mel noted. "Answer my question. What about the whole terroris - "

"Keep your voice down!" Sigma scolded, watching his wife recoil with a smirk. "That's classified."

"And I'm your wife," Mel countered, leaning forward.

Sigma groaned. "Leave it alone Mel…"

"You heard about Pluto?" Mel asked, before rolling her eyes. "Oh who am I kidding - of course you know about Pluto - you're a friggin' AP Commander!"

Sigma snorted. "Yeah… what a swell job…"

This made Mel pause, as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Ah… so it is work-related."

Mel crossed her arms, staring expectantly at Sigma - who looked away and kept his mouth shut.

"I can do this all night Sig," Mel tried again. "Our booking runs for three hours…"

"It's just…" Sigma started, unable to stop himself. "It's just… the guy - he's - he's not asking for a lot."

Mel guffawed. "The maniac just made a mayor's head explode and said we need to pay reparations to duty workers. That isn't crazy to you?"

Sigma turned back, making sure the other guests were lost in their conversations - that no one was overhearing.

"You ever been on a production planet?"

Mel shook her head.

Sigma nodded. "I have. At least five hundred times… and Mel… the way those guys get treated, hell… I'd rather just get shot."

Mel slowly began to agree. "Well - I mean… I guess if it's really that bad…"

"And freakin' no one knows about this!" Sigma announced louder now, anger growing. "Everybody outside is livin' all these fantastic lives while one quadrillion workers are just being - "

Now heads were beginning to turn. Mel kept her thin hand on her husband's mouth, quieting him as she smiled to the bewildered onlookers. Within a few moments, everyone went back to their conversations.

"Sometimes Mel…" Sigma began with a quiet sigh. "Sometimes… you really start to wonder about it all."

Mel kindly smiled at him. "You've always been that way, Sig. Super kind and thoughtful… you never were comfortable with the idea of an evolutionary sacrifice."

Sigma shook his head. "But I'm too much of a coward to do anything about it…"

"Don't say that…"

"I am, Mel," Sigma concluded. "If I really cared about those workers, I'd quit right now and join that freak."

"And start killing innocent humans?" Mel asked, shocked.

"No one's innocent in this kinda society," Sigma corrected, turning behind him. "I mean - look at these guys. You think they're innocent?"

Mel took a few seconds glancing at the crowd. Although they weren't APs, or murder drones - these were definitely wealthy humans who had grown up in a blanket of luxury and privilege, afforded to them by millenia of lucky Designations - born into their comforting wealth, never seeking to penetrate past their social bubble of fancy dates, rich space hummers, exotic drinks, and series of sensory pleasures. Mel doubted that any of them had even put in legitimate work in any endeavor - they were simply born lucky, with Alliance-designated businesses and power to their name, made by four humans who no one was allowed to question - ever.

"You know, before the Alliance got started," Sigma recalled. "I'm talking millions of years ago… humans actually coexisted with other species on Earth… peacefully. Back when we still had real water, and plants, and cooked foods… not all this space-processed crap…"

"Hmm," Mel thought, pursing her lips. "They always say those were the Dark Ages - before the Alliance, we couldn't do spaceflight, or live thousands of years, or have all the cool stuff we have today…"

"Yeah but everyone on Earth had dignity," Sigma rejected. "Humans and animals - we actually shared a planet - and even if we were a lot more primitive then, at least we acted like human beings - not like AI's in blood and muscle bodies… all this Designator shit…"

Sigma sighed, shaking his head. "I dunno… maybe it's just something in our DNA… something that makes us - bad."

Mel giggled. "Well - I don't think that's true… there's good people among us."

Sigma snorted. "Yeah - like who?"

"You."

Sigma stared at his wife, who returned his gaze with a loving blink.

"Shut up," Sigma begged, laughing. "You're hilarious Mel…"

Mel smiled, clasping her husband's aged hands over the table. "Look Sig - I can't tell you for sure what's the right thing to believe… but all I know is that whatever your heart decides - that's probably the right thing."

Sigma blinked. "You got that much faith in me, Mel? Sheesh - I thought I married a smart woman…"

Mel shrugged this off, smiling again. "You have one of the purest souls I know, Sig. Your consciousness - whatever it tells you, I'd trust it… I'd bet my own heart on that."

Sigma grinned broadly, leaning forward to deliver a quick peck on his wife's cheek.

"Thanks Mel," Sigma returned.

Mel unclasped her hands, relaxing in her seat. "Oh! Waiter incoming…"

Sigma turned around, seeing an old but tall, green snake with a red ribbon and small, rotten white flower on her head approach. The snake moved to the table, keeping her gaze down whilst bringing out a holo-panel with her tail.

"Welcome to the Galactic Connoisseur, I'll be your waiter today," the snake spoke in dull, lifeless tones. "Apologies for the wait, we're experiencing a - shortage in the cyberkitchen."

Sigma saw the poor snake's tail curve around a large gash beneath her crumpled waitress outfit, clearly from the mark of perhaps an AP or an angry chef.

"It's fine," Mel noted cheerfully. "What'd you recommend for an appetizer?"

The snake coughed, shaking off her visible discomfort with her injuries. "We usually recommend the A.G.E special - a carbon analogue of an Earth special, with two synthetic breads toasted with an artificial radish finish."

"Sounds good," Sigma noted. "We'll take two."

The snake noted the order on the holo-panel, moving away from the table - heading for the double doors that lead into the sky-kitchen. Sigma watched in disgust as soon as the snake opened the doors, an angry human chef pulled her inside - beginning to savagely whip her with an energy cord. The doors shut quickly, but the snake made no noise - almost as if she had experienced this countless times before.

"Hey bioscan that snake," Mel whispered silently.

Sigma felt taken aback. "No way. You know that's illegal…"

Mel groaned. "Oh for God's sake…"

Before Sigma could respond, his wife quickly pulled a device from his robes, pressing a button in the direction of the chef's kitchen. A holographic display was instantly generated on the device, as Mel selected the snake. Within a few seconds, a flurry of text starting coming.

"FS-3741," Mel noted. "Pre-Reformation name - Viper. Oh - that's a nice name, isn't it?"

Sigma nodded.

"From planet XN-44," Mel continued. "Was on a production planet for about fifty-seven years - seems she just now moved to BX-3."

"It's a miracle she even survived on a production planet," Sigma observed. "Not many last a full year…"

Mel stared at her husband.

"I get it Sig," she finished. "I get why you might feel - sympathetic, seeing these kinds of stories."

Sigma slowly nodded, closing his eyes while he gently pulled the bioscanner from his wife's hands.


A/N

Fun chapter to write! Definitely lots of revelations…

Firstly, we see that Earth is a huge megacity where pretty much only the most privilged humans get to stay - and here, in Alliance HQ - the Designators made a pretty extreme decision to suppress this one terrorist - this shocks even Omega, lol. Also, expect an Omega-Henderson scene next chapter…

Next - TIGRESS MEETS SHIFU! It's obviously a little odd, considering the circumstances and remember - they haven't seen each other in 58 years… and in the very next scene, Viper is seen!

The last scene also was about establishing Sigma's conflicts with everything happening, and his general feeling of unease with society at large. He's a lot like Henderson!

So the story continues.

Support is KRAAAZY GOOD. (u get a cookie if u know where that's from, lol)

~TW