When the Empire’s war had ended, Torus Terminal quickly grew as a commercial hub. Demobilized soldiers were suddenly everywhere, but with little work to go around, most turned to thievery to get by. And, as far as Arnarxx was concerned, most were smart to do so – despite the orbital station’s council resorting to death sentences for thieves. Torus Terminal didn’t have an organized police force, and Arnarxx’s opinion was that it never would.

The Empire had spent a long time cementing a public opinion against the police states of their interstellar rivals. Now no self-respecting principality within the Empire would ever submit to a branch of the military moving in to police its civilian population. Torus Terminal relied entirely on localized policing, which usually consisted of small offices with wealthy owners. And with the public eye continuously aimed at colorful criminal and crime fighter alike, most were glory-seeking upper classes.

Such crime fighters and criminals were usually no threat to someone like Arnarxx. Arnarxx was a paper thief; their realm was almost entirely within ledgers and bank accounts. When they did their job correctly, no one ever noticed anything was missing.

This was not the case for Arnarxx today. One such self-proclaimed crime fighter had finally set their eyes on Arnarxx, and sent a trio of T’nann thugs to collect him: The Thief-Taker General.

T’nanns were formidable in peacetime, let alone directly after a war that had conscripted most into violent ship-to-ship boarding actions. Now the monopedal population mostly consisted of trained veterans, made insensitive to violence through experience. Just one of the three T’nanns the Thief-Taker had sent for him could easily have crushed Arnarxx’s soft thorax with only her prehensile tail. The thought was enough to send Arnarxx’s pedipalps into a nervous twitch.

Who the T’nann trio worked for were of much greater concern, however.

Arnarxx knew of the Thief-Taker General, mostly from intranet articles hailing him as a hero. And rumors in darker circles about what the unique creature did to some of the thieves and criminals he caught. Such tales were quickly becoming more believable to Arnarxx as the T’nanns led him into the back rooms of a richly appointed restaurant.

The rear room was just as decadent as the fine dining establishment out front, with padded couches and a crystalline vapor device neatly folded nearby. A set of antlered, quadrupedal species – Ventusi, if Arnarxx remembered correctly – stood guard at the door. Each of which carried a stun baton with the forest of dexterous tentacles that ran down their sides.

Arnarxx had been able to hear the Thief-Taker General’s tirade the moment they’d entered the building. The target of his ire was a kneeling Ventusi buck, separated from the Thief-Taker General by a low glass table. Two more T’nann guards stood to either side of the Ventusi, passive for now, but their prehensile tails were poised and at the ready.

The Thief-Taker General was bipedal and with a bald hide save the mane of oiled fur on its head, although that was hard to tell. He dressed in neatly tucked clothing that hid most of his hide, as opposed to the more sensible aprons or satchels most species preferred. Arnarxx had seen as much in pictures; the man paraded in front of cameras at every opportunity.

In one such interview, the newly declared Thief-Taker General had waxed poetic about his past. He was a Human, a species from an uncontacted, primitive world. The Human was an abductee during the war and indentured in some military base far from Torus Terminal. He had been vague about the details of his abduction, but vocal about his struggle with the legal definitions that labeled him: Alien Livestock.

Abductees were not uncommon in the Empire. However, most abductees were simple animals or plants. It was unheard of for an expedition to accidentally spirit away a sapient creature. As such, abductees were, by default, an Alien Livestock with almost no guaranteed rights.

Discoveries of sapient life usually preceded a long and celebrated process of First Contact. But not even the Human knew the location of his homeworld. Some had attempted to request such information from the Empire and met with stiff resistance from the Empire’s Military Information Bureau. And so, here the Human was, alone and far from home.

Alien Livestock could not legally own property. Yet, the Human had managed to negotiate a position as a local police officer – with all the rights to recruit deputies and own property that came with it.

Arnarxx had read the articles and interviews just like anyone else, with reckless fascination. Even as a criminal themselves, they were enamored with the colorful stories of the local crime fighter.

“What do I look like to you, Brettn?” the Thief-Taker General said in a calm tone to the kneeling Ventusi buck. His accent yipped at the edges of the Imperial Trade-tongue, a popular language among those too poor to afford a Translator box. The tiny computers were so expensive, Arnarxx would have been surprised to see one even in a comfortable place like this.

“Wh-what?” Brettn stammered.

The Thief-Taker General moved before the Ventusi had finished uttering the word. In one fluid motion, the Human took hold of the low table between them and hurled it out of his way as he closed with Brettn. The table sailed across the room, and a Ventusi waiting patiently nearby scrambled to dodge the shattered glass as the table crashed against the wall.

“Where are you from?” the Human demanded.

“Wh-whu-wha-?” Brettn stammered, visibly shaking as the Thief-Taker General loomed over him.

“Do they speak the trade tongue in What, Brettn?” the Human shouted.

Brettn cringed at the volume, but still, he stammered: “W-wha-?”

“This language, fucker of mothers! Do you speak it?!”

“Y-yes!” Brettn answered desperately.

“Then, you know what the fuck I’m saying!”

“Yes,” Brettn gasped. A tiny smile edged at his lips, a desperate hope that he had answered correctly — a belief which the Human quickly snatched away with his words.

“Then describe what I look like!” the Human demanded.

“Wh-what?”

The Human stepped forward again, and he stomped the floor just in front of Brettn’s knee. Despite the Human’s appearance, the impact of his flat foot shook the entire floor. Brettn’s shaking began anew, and the Human let out what could only be a tirade of insults and curses in a language Arnarxx did not know.

“Say ‘what’ again! I dare you! Say ‘what’ one more ˌɡädˈdam time!” the Human roared.

“Y-you got t-t-two legs!” Brettn sputtered desperately.

“Go on!”

“Y-you’re b-bald,” Brettn whimpered.

“Do I look like a doe?” the Human demanded.

Brettn was as surprised as all the others in the room – mainly the female Ventusi scattered amongst them. Unfortunately for Brettn, he spat out a surprised and frightened “What?”

The Thief-Taker General stomped again, almost eagerly, on the top of the Ventusi’s knee. There was a terrible, wet cracking sound, and Brettn howled in pain as the bones around his knee shattered.

“Do! I! Look! Like! A! Doe!?” the Thief-Taker General demanded.

“No!” Brettn howled.

“Then why did you try to fuck me like one, Brettn?” the Thief-Taker General asked, his voice suddenly deadly quiet. Brettn’s pained howls cut off into a whimper that might have been a denial. “You did, Brettn! You tried to fuck me!”

The Human took a long, hissing breath in through his strangely shaped nostrils. His fury suddenly calmed, the Thief-Taker General stood back up and took a step back. The two T’nann standing behind Brettn lifted him into a standing position, the broken leg hung limply and Brettn’s whimpering started again.

“Now I have to turn you in,” the Human said calmly. “The council has been very fond of hangings, recently. And I can assure you that if your neck does not break, it is an excruciating way to die.” Brettn’s whimpering finally fell away to full-blown crying.

The Thief-Taker General didn’t even bother to speak. With a wave of his hand, the T’nann holding Brettn dragged him back out the door. And suddenly, the Thief-Taker General had only eyes for Arnarxx.

His furious expression disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared, and the Human scrunched up his face in a strangely joyous way. He extended his arms as if to embrace Arnarxx, but thankfully the Human did not approach.

“Arnarxx,” he said warmly. “Just the spider-worm I’ve wanted to see.” One of the Ventusi that had remained stepped up to the Thief-Taker General and used his antlers to offer the Human a soft towel. The Human took it gratefully and wiped it across his brow, clearing a strange amount of condensation from his pale flesh.

“Spider-worm?” Arnarxx whispered, more astonished now than afraid.

The Human made an odd barking sound. “Sorry, your species’ real name is difficult for me to pronounce. All those clicking noises,” he said and made an odd motion with his arms that Arnarxx was almost certain was not how they were meant to move. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You are not arresting me?” Arnarxx asked hesitantly.

“Arresting you?” The Human barked again, his strange smile never wavering. “No, of course not! On the contrary, I want to hire you.”