In the previous chapter stories:

There was a lot of things which happened and you should go read the other stuff now if you haven't already or don't I don't care I'm not your mom GEEZE.

In this chapter:

Smols are being Naughty.

A previous character Returns.

Goodboyes gonna Goodboye.

When you pray for rain, you gotta deal with the mud too.

- Robert McCall, "The Equalizer"

It was a lovely night for a burglary.

Of course, almost every night on Hsrneanth-IV was lovely. That's why the Jornissians started a colony here in the first place; a planet with a moderate axial tilt, orbiting at a sensibly temperate distance from its G-type star? It was a no-brainer. The planet's resulting mild climate plus a biosphere free of nasty-things-with-big-sharp-pointy-teeth meant that, not long after the colony's initial founding, the other two Senate races came asking the giant snake-like aliens if they could come in and start some populations of their own.

After much debate (and oh, how the Jornissians love their debates) it was agreed that the other two could play...as long as the incoming expatriates followed Jornissian law, of course. The Dorarizin and Karnakians agreed, and the colony flourished for a long while in the pleasant manner that only a post-scarcity economy can manage.

The end of that long period of blissful ignorance came when a new, fourth sapient species was discovered. This new species called the particular star that Hsrneanth-IV orbited some ridiculous name, something like "61 Virginis" if one could properly interpret the warblings of their peculiar speech. It was close-by in galactic terms, a mere [28 light-years] from the [human] homeworld known as [Dirt]. And, since Hsrneanth-IV had a stable period of peace that stretched back for many generations, its close proximity to [Dirt] meant that it was perfect as a secretive testbed for inter-species interaction.

One unexpected consequence of that secretive testbed now wobbled at the edge of a perimeter fence. One [human] stood upon the shoulders of another, both of them cloaked in charcoal-gray skin-tight outfits that should block most infrared radiation. At the moment, the two [humans] could only hope that their own tech-geeks were correct about that. What was certain was that the suits were hot as hell to wear; in spite of wearing a vest stuffed with ice-packs underneath, they were both sweating like crazy after only a few minutes.

"Just take your time, why don't you?" mumbled NORDIC. She wasn't a slight woman by any [human] measure, but right now she was supporting the full weight of HISPANOLA on her increasingly aching shoulders. Her subvocal complaint was dutifully picked up by the microphone on her throat and relayed to the earbuds of her partner above.

HISPANOLA, a broad-shouldered male, snorted in response. "I've just got to get a good grip...okay, there we go."

NORDIC'S shoulders suddenly sang in delighted relief as his feet lifted off of her. She reached up with her right hand, only to feel that corresponding shoulder twang in fresh pain as HISPANOLA'S meaty hand grabbed hers and hauled her up to the top of the fence. The pair now crouched on top of the stout wooden beam.

There was no moonlight to see by, but the two thieves had the proper eyewear to compensate. Below their feet stretched a small patch of purplish-black fuzz, the local equivalent of grass. Beyond that was a single-story prefabricated building that looked like a medium-size warehouse to the two humans. Of course, to any aliens it would seem more like a shed. There were a few windows towards one side of the building, and through one of them they could see a young Jornissian slumped in evident boredom as she wrote in a notebook. In front of the giant alien sat an line of holographic camera displays seemingly floating in midair.

HISPANOLA touched the side of the goggles covering his eyes so that he could cycle through all possible EM frequencies. His voice sounded in NORDIC'S earbuds. "It still looks clean, there's no lasers or drones. I can't believe they don't have more security here."

"This place is a perfect example of a cognitive blind spot," replied NORDIC. "Now lower me down. We've only got fifteen minutes before we pass out from heatstroke."

Sn'snna'hhrel yawned wide enough to feel her jaw unhinge. Her long tongue blepped out as she resettled her jawbones back into place and continued writing. This essay was a 'fun' last-minute surprise by her composition teacher. At first she'd wanted to throttle the dry-scaled old bastard, but now she was grudgingly thankful to have something to take her mind off of the soul-crushing tedium of her part-time job.

She grumbled at the unfairness of having to do either. Her parents had 'arranged' for her to get this position, saying that she needed some real-world experience in addition to her schoolwork. Sn'snna'hhrel found herself despising their admonitions about 'expectations' and 'being a contributing member of society'.

All she really wanted to do was play "Warmcuddle Protection Squad" with her friends. Her clan had fought (and fought, and fought) through the most 'grindy' elements of the game, and now they were at the cusp of gaining enough points to advance to the newest level.

By all accounts, that new level was an utter beast. It involved some time-travel shenanigans that would plonk the clan members right in the middle of [Dirt] just prior to the [Karnakian] sort-of-invasion of the warmcuddles' homeworld. They'd have to convince the local warmcuddles that they meant no harm while simultaneously trying to blunt the effects of the [Karnakians] suddenly showing up out of the blue. It sounded like a potent mix of diplomacy and bone-crunching action, and Sn'snna'hhrel couldn't wait to take part in it.

That assumed, of course, that she'd ever get out of this interminable job she'd been saddled with. The Jornissian's attention was mostly on her essay, but as she wrote her eyes caught the merest flicker of motion on one of the monitors next to her.

Her blunt snout snapped up in a quick motion that no warmcuddle could hope to follow. Without a further thought she sat up from her workstation and began to slither back towards the main room. She poked her head in and scanned it thoroughly. Storage lockers lined the walls, all made out of synthetic wood that gleamed in the harsh overhead lighting. There was no hint of motion or IR signatures.

Still, it couldn't hurt to check a few random cabinets. She needed to stretch her scales anyway.

NORDIC reached over and touched HISPANOLA'S hunched shoulder. "It's okay," she murmured. "She can't see us."

I hope was the unspoken addition to that statement. NORDIC pressed herself harder against the side of the big cabinet which held their prize. She cursed herself for getting sloppy at the last minute and allowing herself to be seen by the room's lone camera. The thief could hear the Jornissian hum an off-key melody, which was accompanied by a sound like someone dragging a fully-loaded sleeping bag over a wooden floor.

After a seemingly endless time, NORDIC heard the guard open a cabinet across the aisle, then swing it shut. The dragging noise got ever closer, and the two thieves shrunk back into the corner formed by the cabinet and the wall, hoping that the shadow cast by the cabinet would give them enough cover.

There was a creak as the faux-wood door of their hiding place swung open wide, nearly hitting NORDIC in the shoulder. NORDIC heard the alien give a satisfied hmph as she swung the door swung shut, again with a substantial creak. The pair of thieves relaxed as the dragged-sleeping-bag sound receded again towards the front of the building.

Fortunately, they'd come prepared in case of creaky doors. NORDIC reached into pouch at her right hip and withdrew a small squeeze-bottle of oil. Tall as she was, she could only apply it to the bottom hinge. She stepped back and motioned to HISPANOLA, who nodded and moved up to her original position. NORDIC put a foot into the cradle of his hands and she was promptly boosted up onto his shoulders. A few more squeezes, and their creaky-door problem was solved.

NORDIC clambered down off of HISPANOLA and peeked around the corner. The Jornissian guard was once more hood-down in her notebook and oblivious to the world. The human nodded to her partner, and the pair crept out into the main aisle of the storeroom. Given the cabinet's size, they knew they'd both have to use their strength to open the door. HISPANOLA gripped the door handle just over NORDIC's own grasp, and with a mutual wince of anticipation they swung the door open. They breathed out in relief at its silent motion. Once more HISPANOLA boosted NORDIC onto his shoulders, and for the first time she settled her eyes on their goal.

On the shelf before her was a large tray lined with foam, and nestled in hollows in the foam was a line of sleek black objects. They looked a little like large eggs, each the size of her clenched fist. As NORDIC peered closer she saw an intricate fractal-like pattern on the surface of each 'egg', a pattern which was different for each one.

"It's the one on the right, yeah?" asked HISPANOLA from below.

"Third one from the right," replied NORDIC. "Trust me, I know." Her long, nimble fingers ever-so carefully scooped the chosen 'egg' from its hollow, and her prize went into a pouch at her left hip. From her original pouch she pulled out a sleek duplicate of her stolen 'egg' and with great care settled it into the original's hollow. She took a few moments to make sure it was aligned just the same as the others.

"Good to go," she said, and once more climbed down off of her partner. With another silent mutual shove they got the door closed again. Due to his balaclava NORDIC couldn't see HISPANOLA'S expression, but she knew he must be grinning just as wide as she was. They gave each other a silent high-five.

Unfortunately, HISPANOLA was a little too enthusiastic and the high-five wasn't as silent as it should have been.

Sn'snna'hhrel turned around far enough to make any other species' spines snap, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the empty aisle of the storage room. She was sure she'd heard something, something almost like a soft slap. With a grumble she set her notebook aside and once more slithered into the room. She checked a few more random cabinets, seeing nothing amiss. She also checked around the cabinets themselves, just in case some local toddler had somehow stumbled into the place. Finding nothing, she gave a shrug of her hood and headed back again. Her essay was almost done, and even better her shift was almost over. Then she could head back home and play WPS until her parents yelled at her to get some sleep.

NORDIC felt positively slimed in sweat as HISPANOLA lowered her from the top of the cabinet. She leaned against their refuge and acted as a step-stool for him. After the big man was down she gave his shoulder an angry-but silent swat. He just shrugged in apology, then the pair headed for the window that was their original point of entry.

After another stand-on-each-other's-shoulders bit to get back over the fence, they both were able to strip off their balaclavas. The night air felt wonderfully cool on NORDIC's short blonde hair, which right now was matted flat to her scalp with about ten gallons of sweat.

She turned and glared at her partner. "Idiot," she hissed.

HISPANOLA grinned, oblivious to her irritation. "We got out without being seen. Let's just focus on getting back to base, okay?"

Martin nodded cordially to his next-door colleague, a dour-faced Dutchman named Heidemann. The blonde-haired man shifted his coffee to his other hand as he let himself into his office. It was a small one, appropriate to the mid-level managerial function that was his official title. Martin's desk was just a little smaller than the room itself, and he had to squeeze by the piece of furniture to settle into his chair. He sipped some coffee as he regarded the clean surface before him, feeling a little regret at how cluttered it would surely become once he signed in. He leaned back and allowed himself one more moment of peace, then set down his paper cup and placed a palm on the desk's surface. A holographic display sprang up in front of him, showing an inbox already overflowing with unread messages.

Martin muttered a curse and started plowing through it all. Much of it was busywork, forms that needed his digital stamp of approval before getting passed onward and upward. There were times the spymaster wished his organization wasn't so paranoid. With no cover job he wouldn't have to deal with such mundane crap all the time.

After a hour of tedious stamping, one of the unread messages seemed to leap out of the display. It was an ad for a dating website that had somehow snuck through his spam filter, with the subject line 'Looking for a change of pace?'

Martin leaned back again, this time feeling a flutter of excitement in his gut. He leaned over and did a 'shave-and-a-haircut' knock on the wall next to him. Within moments, Heidemann had squeezed himself into the room. He was bigger than Martin (of course, most people were) and his gut stuck out over his belt as he raised an eyebrow.

"Tank. Now," was all Martin said.

With a shrug, Heidemann led the way. After one long elevator ride down below bedrock later, the two men walked into a room so enclosed that there weren't even vents into it. Instead, a small portable HVAC unit sat in one corner, humming away and adding a little bit of white noise to the room while the two men seated themselves at the cheap particleboard table which sat at the room's center.

"What's the rumpus?" asked Heidemann. His usual hangdog expression was now replaced with curiosity.

In spite of himself, Martin looked around. The vault-like door into the room (unofficially known as The Tank) was shut and locked, and there was at least a few tons of lead and other metals shielding them. But yet he still looked around before turning back to Heidemann.

"Project GIDEON MARKDOWN just had its first success."

Heidemann gave a silent whistle. "Shit. I guess the longshot paid off, eh? What did we get?"

"Something that might actually give us an edge over the damn xenos for once. All I'll say right now is that it's an object containing data. I need you to pull a black team together to reverse-engineer the dingus once we get it back. I'll need experts on both alien and human biochemistry, and they'll have to be sequestered during the process."

"For a piece of true xeno-tech? Reverse engineering could take years,"

"Then it takes years. Just get me the best people you can." Martin chuckled. "In the meantime, I've got to figure out how to get the dingus back to Earth."

What Martin didn't say to Heidemann was that he'd also have to beg for forgiveness from his superiors, seeing as how he'd never gotten proper authorization for GIDEON MARKDOWN in the first place.

Oscar Williams smiled at the large werewolf-like alien as it swung the door open for him. The Dorarizin was of average size, but the large scar over one side of his snout was definitely not average. The human figured that Scarface must be going for intimidation, seeing as how he was a member of a society where limbs could be regrown to order.

"Thanks, my man." Oscar scratched at his chest casually. For this operation, he'd chosen the best outfit for not-blending-in, namely a garishly loud Hawaiian shirt.

Scarface didn't reply, he just unsheathed a claw and pointed at the door. Oscar nodded and walked forward, feeling the weight of the messenger bag on his shoulder as he tried to make his stride look casual.

Oscar hadn't been subject to any search, but he was sure that he'd been scanned thoroughly at least three times before making it this high up in the building.

The room beyond was impressive. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the twinkling lights of a cityscape at night. The polished stone floor reflected that light, which was added to by soft indirect lighting from above. The occasional aircar sped by, but no whirr of their passage intruded into the church-like silence of the room.

In the middle of those windows squatted a larger Dorarizin with a well-brushed mane. One of his ears had been damn near bitten off at some time in the past, but his suit was immaculate and clearly expensive as hell. Beside him was a fidgety Karnakian male with a bright red feather-crest and a much less impressive outfit. The four-eyed raptor turned and goggled at Oscar.

Oscar ignored the alien's scrutiny. He also tried to ignore the heavy tread of Scarface behind him and the soft thud as the only door out of the room slid closed.

The squatting Dorarizin rose and turned, giving Oscar an impassive look. His face was not quite as scarred at his ears, but for sure he'd been in a scrap or two in his life. In spite of his fearsome-looking countenance, his translated voice sounded quite pleasant. "[Mister Holden, I presume?]"

Oscar gave a nod-bow that imitated a Dorarizin greeting. "That's me. You surely must be Grnahrg-of-Awrnoth."

The floor shook ever-so-slightly beneath Oscar's feet as the mobster chief padded closer. Grnahrg's nose twitched as he scented the human. "[Of course. I must congratulate you on your pronunciation, it's almost correct.]"

Oscar shrugged. "What can I say? I've been out here a while, I pick up things. Thanks for agreeing to meet me in person. I know you don't do that very often."

Grnahrg looked up at Scarface. "[He's been scanned?]"

"[Thoroughly, boss,]" replied the bodyguard. "[Nothin' in him or his clothes except for the translator bead. All he has in the bag is what he said he'd have.]"

The mobster looked down and gave Oscar another up-and-down appraisal. "[So this is what you meant by having an 'unobtrusive' pipeline. You seem more...noticeable than I'd expected.]"

Oscar smiled. "That's the idea. People see me but they don't think of me as bein' up to anything nefarious, ya know?"

"[Thus you hide in plain sight. Ingenious.]" The mobster cocked his head to one side. "[But I can't say I like your asking price. You're [thirty] percent more expensive than my normal suppliers.]"

"Pardon my French, but that's because your normal suppliers sell you shit. By the time you get ahold of the stuff they've stepped on it so much that it's what, fifty percent purity if you're lucky?"

Grnahrg looked back at the Karnakian, who gave a shrug of his crest. The Dorarizin turned again to Oscar. "[It's the cost of doing business. I assume you're offering much higher purity.]"

"You got it. I've got a direct line deep into Karnakian space, so I can get you at least ninety percent purity every shipment. Do the math! With dilution, you can increase the supply in your own distribution network by another forty percent while only paying for an extra thirty. That's more money in your pocket, amirite?"

Grnahrg scratched at his chin with a polished claw. "[You make a compelling argument, but can you back it up?]"

Oscar reached into the messenger bag at his side, and heard a little warning scrape of claws-on-stone from behind him. He ignored Scarface's wordless threat and pulled out a large plastic-wrapped packet of fine crystalline powder. The powder's green hue seemed to glow in the indirect lighting from above.

"Let's call this a trial run," said Oscar. He nodded towards the Karnakian. "I'm assuming your boy back there is your Gre...stuff expert, yeah?"

"[He is.]"

Oscar set the packet down on the marble floor and then backed away. "Have him test this. If that shit ain't over ninety percent pure you can have it for free."

Grnahrg turned and gave a curt nod of an ear to the Karnakian, who trotted forward. The raptor held a small brick-like device in one clawed hand, and in the other he held a small needle-like sampler. With a glance towards Oscar, the Karnakian plunged the needle through the plastic and into the powder within. He tapped at a few controls on his readout, then gave a soft warble of approval.

"[[Ninety-six] percent purity, boss.]"

Grnahrg let out a soft wurf as his mangled ears rose up in obvious interest.

Oscar spread his arms out and grinned. "Toldja. For a man of your stature, only the best will do. Now, can we do business?"

Grnahrg stared for a long moment at Oscar before giving a shrug. "[I believe we can. We'll need to set up a different procedure for future deliveries, of course. One that results in less exposure for me.]"

"Of course, I understand," replied Oscar. "You're a busy man."

"[Now as to the matter of your payment...I'm assuming you want standard GRC chits?]"

Oscar started to feel a little uneasy. This operation was going far too well for his comfort. "Sure, that's what I expected."

"[Excellent. Hhgnrif will escort you to where your payment awaits.]"

That was a little hinky, but Oscar decided to play along. After all, he was watched over by the best of the best. He gave Grnargh a final nod-bow and turned to follow Scarface, or rather Hhgnrif.

The mobster's next word was soft but final. "[Stop.]"

Oscar did so, and felt a little bit of damp sweat start to form on the back of his neck.

"[Why did you agree to be separated from your product without any payment in hand?]" asked Grnahrg.

Oscar turned back towards Grnahrg and gave a shaky laugh. "Why wouldn't I? You've got a reputation for being a man of your word."

"[Perhaps. Still, I expected at least some protest. But no, you would have left this behind for us to do with as we please. You also carry no recording devices that we can detect...]" Grnahrg clicked his upper two rows of teeth together in thought, then turned to the Karnakian. "[What was the other four percent?]"

The flunky floofed his chest out in fear. "[Boss?]"

"[The [four] percent that wasn't Green, you idiot! What was it?]"

After some hasty button-pressing, the Karnakian's crest rose up in surprise. "[That's odd. The rest of it is silica, asorbic acid, gypsum, and starch...and the percentages of those four compounds are identical to each other. It's not poisonous to [Dorarizin], if that's what you're afraid of.]"

Grnahrg rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "[It's not to poison our customers, idiot. It's to trace the product back to us. Those specific impurities will link any Green that shows up in the street with this package, which I'm sure has already been logged as evidence. I believe our friend Holden here is with law enforcement.]"

Oscar stayed very still as a big paw settled on his shoulder. Hhgnrif slipped the messenger bag off of his shoulder with surprising gentleness, then tore the bag into rags with a few casual flicks of one claw.

"[Nothing but cloth, boss,]" said the scarred Dorarizin.

Grnahrg nodded. "[Now Holden, or whatever your name really is, are you going to cooperate?]"

There was another scrape of claws-on-stone as Hhgrnif placed his fore-paws on either side of Oscar. The human stood very still and swallowed. "I guess it's either that or you guys eat me."

Grnahrg smiled wide, showing all of his many, many teeth. "[Why would you think that we would be so cruel?]"

"Well sir, you do have a reputation for cruelty as well." Oscar ran a shaky hand through his short-cropped dark hair...which was the signal to his team that it was 'Go Time'.

"[I'm glad to hear that. Now, if you'd like to keep your intestines where they are you will speak honestly...and keep in mind I can smell if you're lying. Are the police listening in right now?]"

"No. We couldn't risk you finding a wire on me. But they do expect me to come back out in another twenty minutes."

Grnahrg clasped his paws behind his back. "[And can I assume that if you don't come out they'll try to force their way in here?]"

Hhgrnhif's breath was hot on Oscar's ear. It smelled like the bodyguard hadn't brushed his fangs in a while. "That's the idea."

"[And who, exactly, do you work for? Is is that irritating [Lieutenant] Drgn'ral? I thought I had bought off enough of the police to avoid this type of nonsense.]"

Oscar glanced past Grnahrg's shoulder. A passing aircar slowed, then stopped. Its lights shut off as it pointed its blunt nose towards the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. He hoped that his adopted pack was precise enough in their timing; having Hhgrnhif hovering right over him made this whole thing kind of tricky.

"Police?" asked Oscar with imitation innocence. "Who said I was with the police?"

Grnahrg's eyes widened. "[Senate-]" was all he managed to get out before everything kicked off.

A soft phut sounded throughout the room as a small black object splatted itself against the center window. Oscar dropped to the floor, curling himself into a ball as the room exploded with disorienting light and sound.

Fragments of tempered glass surrounded Grnahrg as the mobster spun. The room was now filled with the howl of wind from outside, and through that cloud of window-shrapnel barreled a huge gray shape which smacked into the mobster's chest. The giant lifted Grnahrg clear of the floor with no apparent effort before body-slamming him into the floor hard enough to crack the stone beneath.

Oscar opened an eye and peeped above himself. Hhgrnhif was simply gone, and as he turned his head to look behind him the reason why was obvious.

A shorter, leaner Dorarizin held Hhgrnhif's arm twisted behind him while with her other paw she repeatedly smacked his head into the unyielding floor. Finally satisfied, she released her prey and stepped back. From the way Hhgrnhif's head lolled around, he was clearly out cold and most certainly out of the fight.

Oscar uncurled himself and stood up. "Hey honey-babe. I guess you were able to sneak in behind me after all."

Myyreh-of-Relgreh grinned at Oscar. "[I said I would, didn't I?]"

Oscar blew out a shaky breath as he turned to look over the room. A red-feathered ball of fear huddled off to one side while in the room's center a giant Dorarizin with blue-gray fur squatted on Grnahrg's chest. The mobster wheezed and tried with one feeble paw to get her off of him, but he might as well have shoved at a mountain.

Captain Rgrarshok-of-Ngraz, Alpha female of the pack 'We Who Hunt Between The Spaces', spoke with no hint of anger in her penetrating voice. "[Grnahrg-of-Awrnoth, you are under arrest by the Senate on [three hundred and six] counts of Green distribution, [twenty-nine] counts of first-degree murder, and [eighty-seven] counts of second-degree murder. You have the right to remain silent until you have an advocate present. Do you understand these charges and your rights?]"

With that, the Captain stepped up off of Grnahrg. He wheezed again as he rolled over and got to his knees. "[This is...an outrage. I'm an upstanding businessman!]" He took in another breath and seemed to inflate with confidence as he stood. "[You have no proof! This is a pathetic attempt at entrapment-]"

"You. Stupid. Mother. Fucker," interrupted Oscar. "You are, as we humans like to say, oh so very busted. We had the goods on you two weeks ago."

Grnahrg blinked in surprise, then grasped the lapels of his jacket. "[I will say nothing further until my advocate is present.]"

Rgrarshok nodded. "[As you wish.]" The aircar outside maneuvered closer and pressed its side up against the shattered window. Its door slid open, disgorging another Dorarizin with dark green fur and the same gray uniform as the Captain. "[XO, please book him," said Rgrarshok. "[Give him his [phone call].]"

Ngralh-of-Arzgar nodded and produced a pair of Dorarizin-sized handcuffs.

In the meantime, Oscar strolled over and tapped on the balled-up Karnakian. "Hey, buddy? You okay?"

The raptor uncurled himself enough to peek up at Oscar with one eye. "[Is...is it over?]"

Oscar gave his warmest smile. "Yeah, it's over."

After a few more gentle head-pats, along with a lot more verbal coaxing, the human managed to get the Karnakian unfurled and upright. The alien peered down at Oscar. "[If you had enough evidence to arrest [Grnahrg], then...why did you put yourself in such danger?]"

"That's because we weren't after him, we were after his network."

The Karnakian fidgeted his claws together. "[Oh, I see.]" He looked on as his former boss was led off in cuffs by Ngralh. Meanwhile, the Captain was busy cuffing the still out-cold lump of Hhgrnhif. As she did so, Rgrarshok gave the flunky a similar spiel as she had to Grnahrg, even though the flattened Dorarizin was clearly incapable of hearing it at the moment.

"[I am to be charged too, yes?]" asked the Karnakian in a quiet tone.

Oscar decided to go into full-on 'good cop' mode. He slipped an arm around the raptor's elbow, making the big alien twitch in surprise. Oscar shook his head in mock regret as he started to lead the alien towards the now smashed-open door. Myyreh took up station on his other side as the trio exited the room.

"I won't lie to you," said Oscar. "You are in for a world of hurt at the moment. But like I said, we're only interested in your boss's distribution network. Anything you can tell us about that would be a big help, and we'd be very grateful for it. I'm sure Grnahrg wasn't very fun to work for. He probably threatened you a lot, right?"

The human could practically hear the gears turning in the Karnakian's head. "[Of...of course! To be fair, he didn't beat me very often. But I may be able to give you some names, if it would help me...er, I mean if it would help with your investigation.]"

Oscar patted the Karnakian's feathered arm, making the big alien practically wriggle in delight. "Like I said, we'd be very grateful."