Carpathia V: Episode 2 - Unpaid Noodles
Rainy Street, Somewhere Unknown
Though the street was well-lit, with lights pouring from the lampposts and shops, there was little sign of activity. Most shops, except for the sort that cater to those looking for late-night munchies, were closed. The rain accentuated the chill in the air, falling in heavy drumbeats on the ground and in the canal that bisected the street. Water drained from the ancient tile roofs of the buildings, finding their path downward through chains that led to the sidewalk, flowing in little rivulets to the canal. Steady. Predictable. Soothing to anyone who had no place to be and no lack of sleep to reclaim.
Disrupting this steady rhythm was a solitary set of footsteps splashing down the street. Each footstep, for the second it was on the ground, agitating the water's delicate dance to the canal. His steps progressed without haste as the cloaked and hooded figure passed the wooden buildings. Only his twitching, Y-shaped nose poked out from the shadow of his hood, which would be a curious sight, one that would cause a double-take, if anyone were watching. Nobody watched, the perfect time of night to pass unnoticed, which was, of course, the point.
On the cloaked figure walked until he arrived at a wooden building, much like the others that he passed. This one had a dim sign hanging over the door bearing the image of a tray of noodles. If not for the rain, the doors would be open to welcome late-night customers. Nevertheless, the cloaked figure knew the shop was open. It wasn't his first evening foray to the shop. Not that it mattered if it were open or not. He'd enter anyway. After stepping under the roof, the figure gave a shake, sending drips of water flinging from his coat in all directions. Then, he reached out with his gray, fuzzy paw and dug his claw into the door's indent, and slid it open.
Once inside, he slid the door shut behind him and took a quick look around. No customers at all, which wasn't unusual. Most took delivery at this time of night. Nothing but empty tables before him and, in the kitchen behind, steam rose past the windows, clouding them up so deeply they looked more like white wallpaper. From behind the counter, a small, reptilian creature with a headband, barely higher than the counter itself, began to turn, calling out as she did.
Noodle shop chef: Welcome to our...
The cheery voice suddenly cut out, replaced with momentary silence and a scowl.
Noodle shop chef: Oh. It's you.
One could not mistake the utter disdain in the creature's voice. The cloaked figure pulled down his hood, letting two long ears spring up, now unencumbered by fabric. He wore a wry smile, the sort when one expects such a dismal greeting.
Figure: Aw, Cronch, is that how you greet an old friend after so long?
Cronch scowled even further, folding her stubby arms across her chest.
Cronch: I'll call you "friend" when you pay your tab in full. I'll bet half my scales that's not why you're here.
Cronch ducked under the counter and emerged with a giant book that looked like it weighed half as much as she did. It landed on the counter with a slam and she opened it up. After flipping a few pages, she landed on the correct place and tapped her claw on the paper.
Cronch: Demondice. Last paid four years ago. Current tab, 1387 khron.
For the first time, Demondice looked a bit sheepish, even if only a little.
Demondice: Well, you know. People like me don't need money. I'll find some for you eventually. Is Nala upstairs?
Cronch shook her head, not to say no, but to express her dismay.
Cronch: You know she is, or you wouldn't even be here. Now get out of my dining room.
Demondice: Absolutely! But first...
Cronch's scowl grew deeper.
Cronch: Don't say it.
Demondice: A bowl of your gnaku noodles? Pretty please?
Cronch snorted, the air coming from her snout making visible contact with the steam, forming ethereal swirls all around her. Without a word, she picked up her pen and scribbled into her ledger. When she finished, she slammed the book closed and turned her back to him.
Cronch: 1396 now. I'll call you when it's ready.
Demondice: You're the best, Cronch!
Cronch: I already know that! Now piss off!
Demondice had known Cronch long enough to know that "piss off" meant that the conversation was over and that his order of noodles would be at risk if he made another sound. With sufficient humility, he turned to the side and opened the door next to him, the one that led upstairs. His tall ears grazed the top of the doorframe as he passed, flicking back into position, one, two. From there, up the creaky stairs to the second floor.
The second floor wasn't steamy, but rather smokey, a wide-open room, almost as big as the first floor, with a desk in the middle. It was dim, lit by candles only, scattered around the desk and on tall, iron sconces arranged haphazardly across the floor. The furniture was disarray by definition, with chairs and side tables scattered around without any care for utility, much less decor. An herbal cigarette burned in the overflowing ashtray on the desk, threatening to ignite the papers strewn about. Up there, with nothing left but the roof above his head, the rain pattering upon the tiles grew twice as loud, reverberating through the space. At least, if a fire did start, there was plenty of water to douse it.
Seated in a high-backed chair in front of the desk was a furry, red and white creature with pointy black ears who was frowning at a star chart. Absentmindedly, she picked up her cigarette, machine-like, as though it were simply a programmed task, took a drag, and set it back in the ashtray, without any hint of savoring the smokey hit.
Nala: This is the best noodle shop on the planet. If you anger Cronch enough to stop serving us, I will turn your blood vessels into tree branches.
Demondice unfurled his cloak with a practiced flourish, whipping it around his body and landing it neatly on his outstretched forearm. Now, he could spread his wings, stretching them out with a radiant luxury, for he had been keeping them tucked in for too long. The importance of the cloak was now more evident than ever, not just to keep himself hidden, but, underneath, he only wore a pair of bikini underpants and a series of leather straps.
Demondice: Wah, that's better. You do realize that if the place burns down, you won't get any more noodles then either, right?
Nala: I placed a protection aura around the building. No fires here, except for where they should be. Pull up a chair if you want.
Demondice turned to face a tall, iron coatrack and hung up his cloak.
Demondice: I'll stand. I need to stretch out my wings for awhile. So why did you call me here anyway? Did you find the Seventh Seeker or something?
Nala laid the star chart on the table and scooched back in her chair, finally facing Demondice for the first time since he arrived.
Nala: I should be so lucky. No, I asked you here because something has changed in the galaxy and I think it has something to do with Lazmaedia. I'm sure you noticed.
Demondice: I did, but if you're planning to ask me to go to her planet and knock on the door to ask "Hey, you alright, love?" you can forget it.
Nala leaned forward and picked up the chart that she had been studying when he arrived.
Nala: That would be too crazy even for you. However, there may be a way to find out at least a little more info. You might not have noticed this, but I think that whatever happened to her at least started around here.
Nala pointed to a section of the star chart. Demondice, unable to resist curiosity, had a look, his nose twitching faster the more he realized what she was pointing at.
Demondice: Oh, not there. The nekomi always fighting each other like the cats they are. The tokki and their brutal expansionism. Smelly humans. Rumor has it that Wishmaster is holed up somewhere nearby.
Nala tossed the star chart back onto the table, narrowly missing the ashtray.
Nala: I haven't been anywhere near there in over a thousand years and you've never been. Things may have changed. It's worth a look. The area that I've identified doesn't include Earth, so at least encountering smelly humans isn't likely.
Demondice: Small comfort.
Nala: I don't particularly want to go out over there either, but I suppose I'll have to if there's no other solution.
Nala took one last drag of her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray while Demondice looked around for a stool. Spotting one, he dragged it next to Nala's chair and sat, keeping his wings spread wide. For awhile, they sat next to each other in silence.
Demondice: I could send a tammer spy. That might at least get us an idea of what things are like now.
Nala turned slowly with her eyes squinted.
Nala: I didn't agree to accelerate the evolution of the tammer so that you could use them as your playthings. The line demarcating sentience is blurry, but I believe they have crossed that line.
Demondice: Fine, fine. I'll ask permission if it will make you feel better. There are a few who are fond of me, you know.
Nala: I wouldn't be so sure. The smarter they get, the less pleased they are of your meddling in their burgeoning culture. You're not clever enough to make them think you're their god or anything.
Demondice: Leave that to me. I'll get a volunteer, establish a psychic link, and then poke around that area to see where best to let the tammer do its work.
Demondice stood and wandered the room aimlessly.
Demondice: Aren't my noodles done yet?
Nala: I'm sure she's taking her time, especially for you.
Demondice: Something else to pass the time, then. If you have nothing on the Seventh Seeker, anything else going on? Have you found a substitute for the Fifth Seeker yet?
Nala sighed heavily and glanced at the wall opposite Demondice, directly at a pair of twin daggers mounted upon a crest. After a thoughtful pause, she took a cigarette from her tray and lit it.
Nala: I don't know which confuses me more. After Lazmaedia destroyed the aptaran homeworld, the fifth seeker key should have sought out a new species. It refuses and I don't know why. I'm worried that whatever arcane arts that my brother used to set this all up are starting to fail.
Demondice: The system is over 2000 years old. Older than I am. Maybe it's lucky that only two connections are broken.
Nala: I'm going to have to visit the nekomi world eventually to look for the seventh seeker key, but let's see what the tammer finds out first. I'd like to know at least a little bit of what I'm getting into.
Demondice: I'll be sure to give you regular reports from the tammer, then.
Before Nala could respond, a shrill voice from below penetrated the floor to grate at their ears.
Cronch: Hey deadbeat! Your gnaku is ready!
Demondice grinned and gave a little hop, straight for the rack where he hung up his cloak.
Demondice: About time! Just gotta put this on in case someone else is down there.
Demondice twirled his cloak around his body, allowing it to land neatly on his shoulders. As he fastened up, Nala gave one last warning.
Nala: And don't you dare hallucinate Cronch into thinking you don't owe her any money. Pay your debts.
Demondice rolled his eyes, and his head along with them, pulling the same sort of face that a teenager does when getting scolded.
Demondice: Yeah, yeah. I promise not to mess up your little arrangement.
With that, he tucked his ears back, flipped up his hood, and flounced down the stairs.
Polaris Deep Sector, Two months ago
Captain Ivy Tyler awoke feeling very much like she was near the bottom of a swimming pool with no idea which way was up. Her head was woozy and a cacophony of muffled sounds filled her ears, all blending together in a single, unidentifiable soup. Little by little, her senses returned to her, with the smells being the most overwhelming, a mixture of smoke, frayed electronics, and dead bodies, like a machine shop in an abattoir. Upon opening her eyes, everything beyond the first few inches of her line of sight was blurry, but what she could make out was chunks of debris everywhere.
Ivy rolled over onto her back with a weary gasp. Standing over her was Teren, covered in grime, still giving orders. At least, they sounded like orders, as her ears hadn't quite begun to cooperate yet.
Teren: Revenant... tactical... status!
Ivy moved her left elbow up toward her shoulder and gave a strong push, gaining a few inches from the deck. Not much, but enough to gain Teren's attention who, after a simple glance, extended his paw down to where she could reach it. He kept his paw open for her to reach, even after he returned his attention to managing the ship. With a grunt, Ivy swung her hand into Teren's paw and he yanked her to her feet. By now, her hearing wasn't perfect, but enough to make out full sentences.
Teren: Helm, what do you have? And Kau, get me engineering!
Riku: No induction or quantum. Fewer than 50% of thrusters functional.
Revenant: Sensors are spotty. All weapons control systems destroyed.
Only now did Teren finally give Ivy his full attention, even if just for a moment.
Teren: Medical is on the way. You have some blood on your face.
Ivy patted her face a few times until she encountered a wet spot on her temple. A quick look at her hand confirmed blood, which she unceremoniously wiped on her uniform.
Ivy: Tell them to look after the gravely wounded. I'll be fine. Just a bump. How long was I out?
Teren: Just a minute or two. That last vashta broadside took out most of our critical systems, including shields. I'm awaiting a call from...
Atsuo: Engineering here! The core is about to fracture! Sauron is initiating core dump!
Ivy: Focus on that and give me status when you're done!
Atsuo: On it!
With a beep, the channel closed and both Ivy and her first officer exchanged glances. Nobody on the bridge needed to be told the implications of a core dump.
Teren: Riku, get us as far away from the battlefield as you can with what you have.
Sena: Core dump in progress. Routing backup generators to thrusters.
Riku: Going as fast as I can, Commander!
The view out the window confirmed a lazy, whale-like turn, much unlike the ship's usual pinpoint handling. Even this was enough to upset the unstable inertial dampeners, for anyone not seated swayed with the ship's motion.
Revenant: Another vashtari ship bearing down on our starboard side. I still have no weapons or shields.
It's over, Ivy thought. There were no orders to give. Nothing to do. Whatever they could do was already done. Ivy reached up and patted her first officer gently on the back, an unspoken but unmistakable appreciation from his captain. It was all she could do in the ten seconds they had before the ship would be destroyed.
Commissioned art in Carpathia from:
AvareonArt
Zelbunnii
Less_End
Colourbrand
Falke2009
Nalaxa Art
