Transcript [EN]: HOOXGVOTACY

Antlers, assumptions, and artillery. Oh, god damn it. This whole planet is cursed, Bejorn notes as the aggressivel looking horsa. Not that the race of tusked bodybuilders ever look anything other than aggressive. Not that he's seen, at least. Oh yes, a great and terrible curse that'll fall on you if you don't fork over your coins, one of them says. It was a simple walk that Holly wanted. There was no big sign and nothing extravagant. Then out of nowhere, the amount of people on the street went from a fair number to almost none. Bejorn mentally cursed himself for not immediately getting suspicious. It was obvious in retrospect. It also meant several things. There's enough of them to scare of pedestrians from both sides, and they're organized enough to pull this off. It's at least a mildly competent gang, one that's about to bring knives and baseball bats to a shootout and have no damn idea. Or we can all act like reasonable adults and go our separate ways. I'm armed and willing to kill to get you to back off. Bejorn remarks as he keeps himself between the three Horschka that seem to be in charge and Holly. More of the large tusked women are gathering around. There are eight he can see, meaning it's likely going up to 30. He covertly activates the emergency beacon on his communicator. He doesn't like being outnumbered, much less surrounded. Adults, maybe you've got some time under you, little man, but you're just a man, a pampered little brat that never had to worry. The leader of the gang states and Bejorn barely resists just blowing her away from that one. Never had to worry. Maybe the local men are like that. But he will never forget the training he undertook. Pushing till he bled, pushing to the edge of insanity and then just barely pulled back. Men broke bones on those training fields. There were likely still men in the hospital to this day from the sheer strain the training put on them in both body and mind. 10-hour days filled with forced marches with heavy packs you could barely pick up. and unending target practice, followed by brutal cramm lessons on all the runningings of the Dauntless in case they needed to replace a mechanic or a pilot or a communication officer. Learning galactic trade, a language with no route on Earth in the slightest, and pushing and pushing and pushing. Only one in 20 got through the training. 10 of the 19 failures straight out broke. The other nine just failed or left, unable to give enough and quitting before their minds or bodies snapped. They were the smart ones. There had been days Bujornne was convinced, utterly convinced that he was about to snap in half and he kept at it because just quitting felt wrong. But he didn't break. Oh, is the little man angry? Oh, how cute. He thinks he can fight, the Horchka says, and there's a twitch of rage from Bejorn. He needs to calm down. He's no good to anyone if he's upset. Not one more step, he says, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his rifle. Or there will be bodies in the street. Oh ho, that's one of those human weapons. You're not a tread at all, the Horschka says with a grin. So, is it true, Girly? Human men put out like their own spunk is going to poison him dead. He's my bodyguard. Too professional to fool around. Holly answers after a moment. Don't talk to the thugs, Miss Clatter Hooves, Bjorn says once more in control of himself. He'll need to work on his temper. He almost lost focus for a moment. Back off or what? The Horschka demands as several more reveal themselves. A light caress of the trigger and the ground next to her feet detonates with a massive blast from his gun. Bejorn is the only one that doesn't jump. That is the last warning. Take it and leave. No, she says and he sits down the barrel and gently squeezes the trigger. Everyone jumps again. Everyone but Bejorn. Will there be more corpses? He asks as the body hits the ground and several of the girls are looking frightened. More are looking angry. It's a fight. Fine. More corpses. That said, he trips Holly to get her low to the ground and opens up on the nearest gaggle of angryl looking ones. A burst of bullets slams into two of the three with the third, one with a knife, diving to the side. He follows her and as she stands, he cuts her down. He swings his focus to the next largest group that had belligerance and several are already backing off, which is taking the courage out of the more aggressive ones. Stay down, Holly. I tripped you for a reason. That thing is so loud. I'll explain why later. right now. Just stay low and be ready to move when I say," Bujornne says as he turns to see more of the gang approaching." They pause and he looks back. Damn it, he's not going to get them out without stacking more bodies. He had been hoping to keep his hands cleaner than this. He hears the other group approach and he makes his decision. The gun barks out its toll of death and two more Horschka hit the ground. There's a pause, another shot, and another body hits the ground and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. He turns before unloading a shot into a Horchka that had been racing up in total silence. As she falls, another is revealed to be right behind her. She's utterly frozen in fear. You people redefine the term stupid, don't you? He then shifts the rifle to his left hand and reaches into his jacket for his sidearm. He draws it and turns to press it against the forehead of a suddenly very still Horchka that had thought she was being clever. A pull of the trigger later, and he looks from side to side incredulously. Both angles are now covered by either rifle or sidearm. To his left, the first Horschka that had been running up groans. Most of the girls he'd been getting in their ludicrously oversized chests or clearly empty heads. Her he got in the gut. He tilts the gun down to face her and she flinches. No. No. Please no. She wales out and he turns the gun to the rest of the crowd. He has 10 remaining bullets in the sidearm and from what he can see, the magazine on his rifle is still mostly full. Getting an extended magazine for it had been the smart thing to do. The frozen one is backing away. He makes no move to stop her and even nods to encourage some healthy cowardice. Then from above, an air van descends and slams down. Men pour out the sides and weapons are pointed every which way but at Bejorn and Holly. Bjorn flicks on his safeties and holsters his weapons. "Come on, girl. We're getting a ride," he says, helping Holly up and pulling the shocked young carob into the air van. "Report," the officer in charge demands. Walking with the VIP, the street suddenly emptied and a gang showed up to accost us. They ignored multiple warnings and attempted to attack. I killed seven and wounded one before you arrived. Good man. The officer encourages him as another two vehicles descend from above. We're going back to the Dauntless. We have some things we need to talk about and no doubt you'd like some more ammo. Yeah, ammo would be good. Even if he only used a little. You all right, soldier? I'm fine. and just don't like killing, especially when it's just a bunch of stupid punks who choke on their pride, Bjornne says as he leans back in his seat to chew on things. I'm sorry, Holly mutters, and he cracks his eyes open to look at her. For what? If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have this job. And it's not your fault either. Not even mine, really. It's on them. I told them to back off time after time, and they wouldn't get the hint. I gave them every chance to back away and run, and they kept coming. It's not on you. You're just caught in it. Not on me. I had a job to do. It's on them. They started it. They kept it going. And they wouldn't turn away. That's exactly right, Sergeant. Glad to hear you've got your head on straight. Needs to be straight, sir. My aim would be off otherwise. Bjornne jokes, and there are a few chuckles. In moments, the bodies are reported, and the Horchka with a gutshot is being looked over by a medic as they all make their way back to the Dauntless. I just wanted to go on a walk. Why did this happen? At the moment, I'm leaning to it being because a gang of [ __ ] idiots saw me. It's kind of a local problem in that we can't get around the fact that the human marshall strength is mostly in men, and to other races, that's a sign of weakness. Great for undercover protection, but hidden protection isn't exactly something you can use to scare off the stupid and selfish," Bejorn remarks as he cracks his neck. The bit of adrenaline that had run through him was crashing somewhat, and he just wanted some quiet. Thankfully, the ride is completely uneventful, and soon enough, Bejorn is waiting outside the psychiatrist's office that Holly is in. Poor girl has enough with the knifetop nightmares that the doctor is helping her with. But getting that close to gang violence for a civilian, not a good time. Just a kid. Just someone's poor kid that was ripped out of her home and woke up 15 years later in the body of a monster with the memories sneaking back in. Bejorn mutters. I know I could not have prevented this. Short of locking her in a box, there's no way to keep her from everything, no matter how much I may want to. That's an excellent attitude for a bodyguard, a nearby voice states, and Bejorn starts a bit before looking to his right. It's a kid, maybe 15 years old at most, and no, it took him a moment, but he recognizes Herbert Jameson now. Don't do that again. Do what? Do not sneak up on me. I do not appreciate it, Bjornne clarifies. Rumor was the man had made a transfer into intelligence after he was deaged. And wasn't that something to think about? I didn't sneak up at all. I just didn't stomp up like I was trying to break the deck plating, Herbert remarks, and Bjornne snorts. Fair enough, he says, sitting up straighter. Is there something you want, or are you just shooting the breeze? It was just a gang of dumb kids, somewhat smarter than average, with a good grasp of ambush and intimidation tactics, but just a gang in the end. Herbert tells him, and Bujornne nods. A gang with the bad luck to run into a fully armed and trained soldier. Bujornne notes. Yes, I've also come to tell you that we're thinking about moving Holly and the other formerly nailed women to another world for their protection. Best get them some distance. That puts us pretty far away from backup and with only a few proper bolt holes, Bejorn protests. We know. That's why we're thinking of putting up a recruiting outpost on the world of Zalwar. It's a city planet like Centress, but in a different style to the Centress Spires. Interesting. How far is it from major backup if everything goes completely fooar? A day and a half from Centress along the major Axiom lanes. Right next door almost in a skirmish that's an eternity. In a siege that's an instant, Bjorn considers, what's the terrain like? Is there a specific race that holds a clear demographic majority? mostly Metac, Gob, Cobb, and Tret. Although there's a healthy mix of many other populations, particularly among the Carib, Snik, Horschka, Nagasha, and Sonir, such as our nail victims. The terrain is an enormous number of archies, self-contained cities on an otherwise very cold and dry planet. If you think of it like a self-reliant space station on the ground, then you're not far off. or the Dauntless with the engines replaced for more hydroponics and production. Less crowded, but you've ballparked it. Very much a close-ranged kind of place. Things would get down to knife range in a hurry in a place like that. Less than you think from a lot of the archology designs, but you're thinking properly for it. It's a ecumenopous made up of archoplexes. All right, you're just making up words now. An archology is a self-contained city in one massive building. An archoplex is a whole city of city buildings. A ecummenopous is a city planet like Centress here. Centris uses an open spire system to take advantage of its natural atmosphere. Zalwar doesn't have a very welcoming surface and is only being populated because of its sheer convenience right on the biggest Axiom lane in the galaxy. It is a major major trade hub and sees nearly 10 times the population of Earth come and go every day. They couldn't terraform at first, Bjornne asks as he pushes aside the sheer absurdity of billions of people coming and going at once. I looked it up. The whole planet was locked up in red tape as no one could agree on what to terraform it into, and the wouldbe colonists got impatient. Technically, the debate on what to turn the planet into is undecided and ongoing, but no one's actually made any motions in thousands of years. Of course not. The worms aren't that big, and its value is in its location, not in anything it produces naturally. Herbert says, and Bejorn chuckles. Oh my god, man. You haven't heard the best part yet. And what would that be? The cover. You see, as much as we would like it to be otherwise, most of the undaunted are going to be aliens for sheer virtue of humanity, being disgustingly outnumbered in every way, shape, and form. Which means we need to start recruiting and training. So, we're opening up offices here on Centress and on Zalwar. I'm going to be a trainer. That's your cover. Same with the other girls and their guards. You'll be living in the recruit and training centers and bringing in new blood into the undaunted. We're going to have to change our training routines then. As races go, humans are stamina monsters. Our usual drills would flat out kill most of them. Lord forbid the drill instructors get a body count to match their attitude, Herbert remarks, and Bejorn snorts in amusement. How long? Sometime in the next 2 weeks. Antlers, assumption, and artillery. We just got here and now we're moving. Holly demands in a huff as she packs up. Her mother is helping and clearly far from happy, but keeping the peace as she wants to understand the situation before making a snap judgment. Centris is proving to be all sorts of a mess with the local gangs. Not to mention the intention was always to get you far away from the reach of those that hurt you. However, since you and your mother gave a straight veto against bunking with the EFL and being on the Dauntless is a security issue in of itself, we needed to wait for a better option, which is what has come up. But a Zwir archology, she demands. If it's the open air you're missing, then outside them isn't too bad from what I understand. Especially not for you. With your natural fur on, you could probably go streaking and only have to worry about gawkers and the occasional tundra worm attack. Maybe the police, too, Bjornne remarks as he packs up his own clothing. Two weeks in this safe house, and in the first 72 hours, she was not only recognized, but then later jumped by idiots on the street. After that, paranoia had set in, and there were several times where they had successfully identified umbrell organization members in the local area. They hadn't done anything, but it was clear the bastards were too close for anyone's comfort. Further scouting on other spires with the information they found had sent up little pings all over the planet. The bastards infested Centress like roaches. And with all the stupid little secret societies, cults, and back alley gangs that were the local [ __ ] hobby, godamned, everyone was suspect in some way. No doubt there would be a similar problem on Zo War, but at least it would be a different problem than keeping people away from their abusers, as it would be a different pack of idiots crammed in like sardines. Needless to say, Bjornne wasn't optimistic about another ecumenopous. But after lodging his official statement, he buckled down and solded on like the soldier he is. That's not going to happen. No way. No how. If you say so, Bjornne agrees. Never going to happen. Fine. I hope you understand that. I do, Holly. He was teasing you, Martha remarks. I understand, Holly half yelps. I doubt that, Bjornne remarks. I am not going streaking, she protests, and he rolls his eyes at this point. She can tease and flirt without fail. But the moment it turns around, she's a wreck. She's a kid, Bjorn. Just a kid. Of course, she can't take a ribbing. Just relax and move on, he says to himself under his breath, unaware that Martha heard him. She smirks to herself and moves to work some mama magic with her daughter. Stupid oblivious jerk. He has to make light of everything and just just Holly bites back a scream even as her mother comes up to her. Holly, Martha says and she turns. Oh, I didn't hear you come up. How do you do that? It's hard to stop hooves from clattering. Heck, it's in our name. She's wound up like a spring and looks like she's about to explode with a thousand different emotions. Holly, relax, Martha says. Instead, Holly takes a deep breath, then deflates when Martha gives her a stern look. You're not going very far, and he's not trying to be mean. But it's a whole other world, and he's making fun of me. Holly, it's another world in one of the biggest Axiom lanes in the galaxy. Going to and from it is so quick that you can come home for every holiday, no problem. But it's also far enough away that most of the wretches that would want to hurt you simply aren't there. He's still making fun of me. Holly, he's not a carob. He's not even a woman. Don't expect him to act like either. He's an alien from cruel space, no less. He doesn't think as we do. I chewed over it quite a bit on my shift at work following the meal we had together, and a lot of it makes sense. There is so much unknown to him and of him that expecting anything from him is simply absurd. But he said I'd be better off naked. Did he? Martha asks gently. He did, Holly asserts. Did you? Martha calls into the apartment. Did I what? Bjornne asks, walking in. Did you say Holly would be better off naked? Martha asks, and an eyebrow goes up in confusion. No, I did not. Yes, you did, Holly protests. Ms. Clatterhovves, you have a coat of fur on. By my reckoning, it's borderline impossible for you to be naked. Even where you have no clothes, I still can't see skin. He pauses, and his eyes look to the left as he considers something. Unless you're planning on shaving. You're not planning on shaving, are you? What? No. Then congratulations. You're not naked and likely never will be. Not how it works, young man. Look, what is the problem? You won't tell me what the antlers are about. That's fine. I had a talk and they explained a way to be more understanding. Although telling them that he was told to think of anything that people are sensitive about and won't explain as an equivalent to his member was not something he was going to share ever. And I'm fairly certain bumping up against something like that again. So are you willing to explain the misunderstanding. She's very body conscious at the moment. Martha says and gets a betrayed look from Holly. Fair enough. Is this about when we were talking about the climate of Zalwar? Bujornne asks and Holly nods sulkily. Right. What I was saying is that if you find the archies to claustrophobic and want a breath of fresh air, then the atmosphere outside is suitable for it. It may be colder than centress, but with your natural fur thickness, you should be easily comfortable. Okay. Yes, that's okay. Excellent. Crisis averted. I'll be packing if you need me, Bjornne says, walking away. And Holly just gestures in his direction for Martha to see. I know he's not a carob. He's not attuned to the axiom the way we are or at all really. You said it's okay and he believes you. And if he doesn't, then he's going to politely pretend he does. She explains. I can still hear you both quite clearly in fact. Bjornne notes out loud for them both to hear. Then I should tell you that you're missing more than half of every conversation you're in. I figured that much out already, but since I have no idea what I'm missing or what direction to look in, I can't do much about it now, can I? Bejorn remarks. But you can sense axiom, can't you? Holly demands. I can, but I have no idea what I'm sensing. My brain's not built to process it, and I've only started being around Axiom in the past few months. I have barely the slightest clue on what I'm doing, Bjornne remarks. And there's the problem, Bejorn. The big deal with our antlers is that they're an enormous part of our identity. We can feel every moment of the day. Shifting them around is like massively rearranging your face on both a physical and spiritual level. It's a great way to be hidden, but it's an enormous thing to do, Martha explains. And Holly looks embarrassed. I think I understand. Axiom's mostly a swirling mess to me that's almost impossible to decipher. So you can sense it? Yes, but I can't make sense of it. I have neither context nor training in sensing people's emotions with Axiom. I get the occasional bit, but not much. The pattern seems to be massively different from person to person and race to race. And I'm not sure if I'm even paying attention to the right thing. It's impossible to ignore. But if I pay attention to the axiom, I just lose all focus because it's too much information all at once. Martha's now making gesture for Holly to interpret. But the younger Karib is being stubborn and shaking her head, causing her no end of frustration. Well, if it's issues in understanding axiom, then who better than a carob to offer you lessons on how to interpret what you're seeing? After all, if you're going to be spending so much time with my daughter, it's good to have a subject that never really runs out to fill the empty air. Martha offers to Holly's personal horror. While that would be great and something I'd gladly put in my reports, from what I can sense of her axiom, and the fact that it's moving really violently tells me that she's either about to hurt someone or scream, I think. What? No, it's just that it's so weird and doing something like that and talking about all sorts of little things like everything's a date all of a sudden while my mom's here is just too much. Oh, so I'm getting in the way, am I? Well, luckily you'll be whole worlds away so you can get loveydovey with your bodyguard. Martha teases. Mom, loveydovey nothing. Such a thing would compromise my good sense in the middle of the job. I need to think clearly to provide the best possible protection. Bejorn states factually. That's not what my little girl overheard. Mom, stop. That officer in question is currently on a punishment round of duty and has her wages garnished for the next 3 months for that severe breach of protocol. Bejorn replies. But was she wrong to say such things where your daughter could hear? Yes, but not in what she said. It doesn't matter. I won't be led around by my lower head. I will keep your daughter safe. That is my mission. Period. You've got work to do, sweetie. Mom, I meant packing. Where was your mind going? Damn it, Mom. I can throw her out if you want. Bejorn offers. You're not helping. I'm here to keep you from being attacked by gangsters, criminals, pirates, and enemy armies. Mothers are another thing entirely and way, way out of my pay grade. Bjornne teases back and Holly groans as Martha laughs out loud. See, he's not so bad. He has a sense of humor at least, and he's utterly dedicated to making sure you're safe, Martha says before leaning in. You can work on seducing him on your own pace, but I fully expect we'll eventually have a hoofless grandson for me to spoil. Mother, Holly whispers in annoyance as she squirms a little. Well, it's not like I can chase after him. I've got your father, Martha protests. Can I see him? I mean, I never really got a chance to get to know him before. Well, Holly asks, and Martha gives her a hug. Certainly, but he has many wives and daughters and is very dedicated to teaching his sons how best to live. I know, but I want to say goodbye at least. Oh, sweetie, you're not going anywhere. In fact, there's a family get together in just a month. While you were while that wretch had her claws in you, you avoided each and every one of them. But now, you can come back, and I'm sure that your bodyguard will be more than welcome. If not as your plus one at least. I don't know. I mean, will the family accept me back after everything that happened? They will. And if they even think about doing anything else, I'll smack them so hard their fur will come off. Martha says, holding her daughter close. You know, there are some days I can't really believe this. One day you were just gone, and after years looking, I found nothing. Then you're brought back to me, hurt, but healing, made of reinforced metal, and needing so many hugs. I'd need to be an army to give them all. It was like being in a strange dream. Nothing was really real and I just went through things without noticing anything. Then I wake up to find out that it was all part of a greater nightmare. One that's over, but one that was so very, very real. It's over, little girl. You're safe now with a bodyguard and everything. Yes, but how long until that's taken away? When the Umbal organization is in no way, shape or form a threat to you, which should take a few years at most with how deep their roots go and how much we keep finding. There are many branches of the psychotic sadists, but thankfully being a raging maniac doesn't engender much loyalty, so digging up information is getting easier and easier. Bujornne says walking in. I finished my packing by the way. Wait, so how much are you guys going up against the Umbrell organization? Not only do I not know, but I would not be allowed to tell you if I did. But I'm not privy to those operations either way. How the entire thing is subverted and how Swipe's body double is now their agent on the inside. Classified. Now, let's get you packed so we can get you to safety. Our way off planet is in 24 hours. That's plenty of time to do whatever. You might think that, but you'd be surprised where time can go. Was there something about saying goodbyes earlier? How good are your ears? If not for the walls, I'd have been just barely out of spitting distance the whole time. Oh, well, yes. Look, I won't touch your clothes, but make sure you say your goodbyes. I'll pack up the rest, okay? Bejornne offers, and she nods.