Papers, Please

"What's gila," he says, approaching the window. He takes the pen and makes quick work of the form, all the while nodding along to the woman's droning voice.

Name: Yoshi Modo
Age: 18
Species: Human
Birthplace: Cybele
Occupation: Self Employed
Current Station Address:
Ring 2
Deck 11
Unit 11

He draws a dragon in the top right corner of the page as she finishes her speech.

"Hi, ma'am. How are you?"

"Yes, that's right. Thank you, ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll remember. Thank you."

"Thank you for the warning, ma'am. I'll complete the form. Thank you."

Name: Dirt Ziawk
Age: 19
Species: Avion - Type 2
Birthplace: Cybele Station
Occupation: Ensign First-Class Junior Pilot for the Colonial Fleet
Current Address:
Ring 2
Deck 11
Unit 13

"I'm done, ma'am. Thank you again for help. I'm ready to move on to the part about my health and my nightmares whenever's convenient for you. Thank you."

"Hello again, ma'am. I have completed my second page of the form. Please let me know what else you need to complete my registration. Thank you, ma'am."

Dirt slides the form under the window, steps aside, and stands at parade rest, awaiting additional orders.

Aptitude Report:
- Healer +2 to Healing rolls, magical or otherwise

Maladaptive Tendencies:
- Delusional (minor) - Believes a fragment of the Phoenix goddess lives inside his heart.
- Vow (minor) - I will protect those who cannot project themselves.

Latest Physical Results:
Agility - d8
Smarts - d6
Spirit - d8
Strength - d6
Vigor - d4

Toughness - 5(1)
Parry - 6
Pace - 6

Registered Cybernetic, Genetic, or Psionic enhancements, mutations, or abilities:
- Additional Actions - Ignore up to 2 MAP penalties
- Wingboard (Vehicle)
Size: Small
Speed: 60mph
(+1) Flight
(-1) No VTOL (Vertical Take Off and Landing) Limitation

Yoshi takes his time with the second page. He hesitates when he gets to the section on registered psionic abilities. It is what it is, he thinks.

"Done," he says, sliding the sheet back to the lady behind the window.

Aptitude Report:
Martial Artist
Thief

Maladaptive Tendencies:
Vow (major) - Member of the Deck 11 Orochi. Made an oath of loyalty to the gang. Must fulfill duties when called upon. Must represent self and gang to the fullest. Must defend territory. Has dragon tattoos on chest.
Arrogant (major) - Has a huge chip on his shoulder. Won't let things go. Likes to show off.


Latest Physical Results:
Agility - d8
Smarts - d6
Spirit - d6
Strength - d6
Vigor - d6

Toughness - 7 (2)
Parry - 6
Pace - 6


Registered Cybernetic, Genetic, or Psionic enhancements, mutations, or abilities:
Illusion
- Distraction
- Obscurement
Mind Reading

OCCUPATIONAL HISTORY

Athletics d4
Fighting d8
Stealth d6
Thievery d6
Common Knowledge d4
Language (Kebo) d6
Notice d4
Focus d8
Performance d4
Persuasion d4

REGISTERED PROPERTIES
Kebo Ceremonial Dagger
Sampler/Drum Machine
Cool Sneakers
Dragon Chain
Body Suit
Various Clothing

Dirt goes straight-backed at the clerk's jibe. He slides the paper off the counter and returns to his seat without a word of thanks. He thought it would feel good to stick it to the old maid. He didn't know her after all, and she had no connection to his father that he was aware of. Instead, he felt the all too familiar pang of guilt and shame for his lack of decorum. He could feel his mother's disappointment. She'd raised him better than this.

Page 3:
Occupational History:
Athletics d6
Fighting d8
Piloting d6
Shooting d4

Healing d4+2
Language (Avian) d6
Notice d6

Focus d6
Persuasion d6


Registered Properties:
(2) Triage Patch
Armored Clothing (Pants)
Armored Clothing (Shirt)
RS C6 Stun Baton

Special Notes:
Natural Weapon - Bite

Dirt sets his shoulders and strides up to the desk. He slides the paper through the window slot. "Thank you--" He punches the word, "Ma'am." He would be polite, but he didn't have to be nice about it.

Yoshi leans back in the seat and pulls out his phone to disguise his people watching.

The gold necklace around that Avian's neck looks real. And expensive. A lot of effort and risk just for an ID photo. Would have been tempting in his younger days.

He notes the shabby lizard's behavior. "What's up with him," he wonders. The well dressed lizard doesn't seem to have noticed. "Maybe it's all in my head."

When he spots Booster, he averts his gaze as quickly as possible. He stifles a sigh. Booster was not the type of person you wanted to be stuck talking to with no out.

He darts his eyes around the room frantically, hoping Booster won't notice, and then spots a ghost from the past. Suddenly the worries over attracting Booster's attention fly fully out of the dock.

He stands and approaches Dirt. "Ay," he says, bluntly, chin up, wry smile on his face. "Where you from?" He holds out a hand, fully prepared to dap his old friend.

Recognition flashes in Dirt's eye and he stifles a broad grin. He bows up his chest, and with the old familiar act, sheds his crisp, militaristic edge like snake skin.

"You already know where it is, baby." He slicks back the crest of feathers on his head and sucks his teeth. "Repping the Two-One-One. Starboard side for life. Don't you forget it." Dirt poses with his chin in the air, then smiles brightly and daps up Yoshi fucking Modo, of all people.

He laughs and claps his old friend on the back. He can't even believe it. "Yoshi Modo, in the flesh." He shakes his head, smiling, and suddenly realizes they're holding up the line. His new self—or rather, who he is now—weeds its way back into him and he gives the clerk a smile and a nod and ushers Yoshi and himself out of the way. "Holy cow, man. It's so good to see you. How've you been? How's Grammy Modo?"

A sparkle catches his eye. Is that a? Crabling? With a coin in its mouth? He laughs. You've got to love the Records Office... He turns his attention back to Yoshi. Yoshi freaking Modo. He looks good. Different, but somehow the same.

Dirt sits in the corner and settles in for a nice long catchup sess with his old pal. "What's new, man? What are you up to these days? Going to school? Working for the Man?" He checks out his old friend. His style. His swagger. Dirt grins. "No. You're working for yourself I bet, right? You've got Big Boss Man energy these days. I like it." He smiles broadly, teasing, sort of, but the more he looks at Yoshi The Man, instead of the kid he'd known, the more the words seem to ring true.

Dirt's eyes take one more quick glance over his friend's shoulder, then back again. Poor guy. The Crabling wants something... But what? He's fine. Whatever the little guy needs, I'm sure he can manage it for himself. It's fine. He's fine.

Dirt's brain reels. What the hell-- We're under attack! Attack? Who the hell would attack the Records Office? Just stand in line like the rest of us, buddy.

Welp. At least his sense of humor is still intact, thank God for that. It's a good sign either way though, he supposes. At least something still works... Stupid eyes! Dirt made a mental note to have those replaced asap.

His crappy organic eyes could only see a black void full of white splotches, but he couldn't just stand here twiddling his claws. That scream. And the thud. It was a body, there was no doubt about it. Someone is hurt. They're probably already dead. But if they aren't...

Could I even do it again? It was an accident before. He hadn't even meant to do it. What if he moved and it just got him killed too? Dirt forces the thoughts from his head.

I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.

Dirt clenches his eyes closed and fights to recover his senses.

He wades through the fogginess of his brain to focus on the the thud behind him. He orients himself with the noise's location locked in his mind.

Yoshi could kick himself for not bring able to recognize the reptilians. "Man this moss is too strong," he thinks.

He laughs a little at Dirt's antics. "Yeah, you already know I'm making motion. What about your ROTC looking ah-"

Their catching up is cut short by the entrance of the birds and the subsequent explosion. His vision goes completely blank. Instinctively, he lowers himself to the floor. After the familiar sound of energy blasts rings out, he feels around his body for any new holes, and breathes a sigh of relief when none are present.

He goes ahead and raises his hands up from the floor. As he feels himself return to his senses, he looks around the room trying to suss out what exactly is going on and who got hit by the energy blasts.

Yoshi remains on the ground with his hands up. The guard he can see looks pretty bad.

"No love for security, but I don't want to get zapped myself.

He sees Dirt and the others struggling around him. They look pretty disoriented but at least they aren't really hurt or anything. If they're smart and mind their business they'll be able to go home and sleep this whole thing off. If he's smart and minds his business he'll get to go home and sleep this whole thing off too.

His attention can't help but be drawn to the birds at the counter. "Why rob this place? What records are they looking for?"

He stares intently at the gull. "Only one way to find out."

"Vibe check," he whispers.

Dirt clutches his face and falls out of his chair, bracing himself on his hands and knees. He had to stop this. He had to fight. People were dying. The hole blasted in the first guard's side flashes in his mind. Dirt took a shallow, labored breath and swallowed hard. He HAD to do something. At least one man's life was at stake, and there'd likely be more to come.

He curses and rubs at his eyes with one hand, reaching out with the other. Searching for what? He didn't know. He couldn't fight if he couldn't see, damnit! He balled his claws into fists. They didn't teach him that at the academy.

Maybe that's a good thing though. Maybe even if he could fight in the dark, maybe he shouldn't. This is not a training exercise. These men would kill him. Worse, they could kill civilians because of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up getting more people hurt than if he'd done nothing at all. He had to try something though. Had to get some small edge without ruffling too many feathers.

Dirt cowered and shied away from the birds in genuine fear. He slowly crawled his way back from the action, and toward the first injured guard in whatever roundabout way called the least attention to him. .

Dirt hesitates over the man's body. Was that a--? He shakes the image from his mind. Focus, damnit.

He squints, and somehow, his vision clears momentarily, like a shaft of sunlight peaking through a cloudy sky. Thank god.

He pulls off his jacket and wraps it around the wound, letting the palms of his hands press into the security guard's side.

Dirt closes his eyes and racks his brain to remember what he did before, how he'd done it. It had all happened so fast before. He tries to pull an image of the security guard's wound through the blackness of his mind to focus on it, but instead, a figure of a cowering boy comes forward. It was his younger brother, Christian. He shields his mother with his body as a curved, electric blue sword sears through the flesh between his neck and shoulder and out the other side of his ribs. Dirt can smell his brother's burning flesh, even now, and the sound of his mother's cries nearly break him. "Please," he mutters. "Please, stop..."

His heart fills with anguish and fury. Pain presses out against his ribcage, desperate to burst from his chest. That feeling pools into the pit of his stomach and down into his legs. Fills his arms and wrists and hands with a red hot torrent of grief. That feeling that consumes his heart wants something. Wants revenge. Wants justice and destruction and--

Dirt's mother, Hellene, catches his mind's eye. The last true memory he had was of her screaming and clawing at the ground as pirates drug her away from her boys, from her family, from her beautiful life on Cybele Station. But in this moment, now, in his hollowness of mind, she smiled. Not a photo-perfect white-toothed grin, but a resting smile of ease, as if she were sleeping through a pleasant dream, only her eyes were open and staring at him--staring through him if felt like. She's at peace, and in that smile, Dirt found a sort of peace of his own. He let that feeling wash over him.

The tempest in the pit of his heart loosens and his anger gives way to a different kind of ache. An ache that he'd only ever felt twice in his life before: on the day of his high school sweetheart's wedding to another man and the day he'd shipped off to the academy and left his father all alone. It broke his heart to feel such love. To feel so close to them, as if he were holding his mother and brother in his arms at this very moment, and yet, to know they could not be together. That feeling radiates through him until he thinks it might very well consume him, and he almost welcomes such a release. But at the core of it all, he could feel that spark and knew then that he would carry it with him wherever he went—that he would carry them with him—and with that knowledge, he felt that brilliant golden light pour out of him and into the security guard's body.

A tear rolls down Dirt's cheek as he opens his eyes. He whispered, "I'm sorry," only loud enough to be heard by his brother, his mother, and his god. He brushes the tear from his cheek with his shoulder and pulls the jacket tight before tying it in a knot over the wound. He'd just have to hope whatever he did was enough to save the man's life.

Yoshi curses under his breath. Too faded to recognize fancy-pants and shabby, and now too faded to get a read on cyber gull? "I can't go out like this."

He studies the birds as they squawk back and forth. "Who are they? Just randos? They must rep something."Just as he's beginning to wonder where Dirt went, he sees his old friend beside the body of the now seemingly not fatally wounded guard. Again, he wonders if the moss is getting to him. "I might need to toss that sack."

As far as what he ought to do, his mind is made up by the announcement that they will be changing locations. "Just going to move in silence and wait for my opportunity." He follows behind "Poindexter." "Then I'm going to make these birds regret the day they dropped a flashbang on a real ass shinobi."

Dirt hadn't even breathed a sigh of relief yet when his patient was ripped out from under him and thrown across the room, likely concussing them even further. He was alive though. That's what matters.

He quickly thought of the look in the man's eyes. Like he'd witnessed something... otherworldly. Not good. Maybe he could talk to him after all this? Convince him his wounds weren't actually that bad?

Dirt blinks and tries to focus on the crumpled security guard. He narrows his eyes through the glare and looks for a name tag or maybe a badge number.Either way, one down. One to go. Please be alive.

Dirt raises his hands as he turns to the corner of the counter where he'd heard the second figure fall.

He didn't want to cause trouble though. These guys were nuts. He could get someone killed if he did something stupid. And more than likely, that someone would be him. He couldn't allow them to kill him. He'd made a vow to protect people, and he couldn't do that if he was dead. He had to try to get to the other person though.

Dirt couches with his hands in the air and carefully makes his way away from the vulture who'd scolded the lizard, and makes his way towards the second fallen security guard. He moves swiftly, but calmly.

If anyone tries to stop him, Dirt says, "I'm a surgeon! And right now, this whole thing is just petty theft. I can prevent it from being murder. Please just steal whatever you're stealing. No one will stop you."

"Ruby Sun," Yoshi thinks. He spits. Flashbang me? Racist ass birds..."

He smiles at Dirt's Deception. "Surgeon? Bold."

The chatter from the lizards makes him kick himself again. How does he not at least recognize the one?

Once he enters the hallway with the security doors, he takes a good look at Con. "Ok this better work this time. What's on your mind?"

Yoshi pauses, reeling from the experiences he just witnessed. The ability to read someone came with its advantages and disadvantages. Information was advantageous. A secret, a weakness that can be exploited, the enemy's next move. But information could also be a real burden. Knowing what messed somebody up. Knowing how someone really feels about you. Knowing what made you their enemy.

Granny Modo called Yoshi's ability to read, "Empathy." He didn't feel like it made him any more empathetic. Just content in the knowledge that everyone and everything is broken and whoever can scrape together the most pieces wins.

He watches as Jermiah carries out his mission, waiting for the right chance to use his past against him. To break him with one of his own shards.

Yoshi runs through the scenario in his head. He'll activate "The Dreaming," then take out the stunned Jeremiah with a quick wind god fist. Grab the bird's weapon, rush back into the hallway, blast the other two birds' weapons out of their hands, hurricane kick Tross, dragon punch Cardi-

His strategizing comes to a quick halt when he overhears the identity of the fancy lizard. "Dr. Wesley Scales! Ba-duh!" He slaps himself in the head. "Dude is all over the news."

He frowns. Nevermind the plan. There's too many hostages that could end up zapped too quickly. And for what, really? So far it had only been security getting blasted. Yoshi had no love for security. The flashbang was annoying and felt on the verge of personally disrespectful. But to be fair how could they have known that he was him when they pulled up? Plus Orochi and Talon don't have beef to speak of. "They trying to start their lives over? With a life like that, how could you blame them?"

One thing still nags at Yoshi, though. This is clearly just a step on the path to something bigger. What are they planning? "Hey. Con, right?" He takes a step forward, but keeps his hands up, maintaining a non-threatening look. "What do y'all have planned? Like after this? Why shoot two security guards just to delete some names from a registry?"

Dirt stews in his juices, embarrassed by his outburst. But it had worked, hadn’t it? Whether they believed him or not, they’d disregarded him as a threat. And he could use that to his advantage.

Not now though. Now, he was just glad the man was still alive to defend. When he’d heard the heavy thump and nothing else, he'd been sure the man was dead. He’d happily take a pie to the face for that trade any day.

He doesn’t look up as the northside ducky with the fancy necklace crouches next to him. He’d seen the bling and dismissed her as a stuck-up yuppy, but she’d volunteered to help so she must not be too bad. After all, his own mom had been a bit of a… And she'd...

No.

Dirt gives the woman an appreciative nod. "Grab that," he says, pointing to his wingboard wedged between Yoshi’s chair and his own. "We can use it to carry him."

With effort, they heft the unconscious body onto the wingboard and Dirt folds the man's arms across his chest so they don’t drag behind, then Dirt and Aythya slowly guide the makeshift hover-gurney down the hall, following the rest of the hostages.

Dirt avoids Aythya’s eye when he admits, "I’m not a surgeon." He purses his lips and stares straight ahead. "My dad shouted that out at a restaurant once and everyone listened, so I just…" He trails off, then just shrugs.

He lets the pyromaniac’s rhetoric fill the silence between them.

"I wonder what their deal is?" Dirt whispers, and he's surprised to find that there’s no judgement in his own voice. He did actually want to know why they were doing this. Why go to all the trouble? "Like, what would make someone want to delete their whole life?"

He steals a glance at her. "My father says they’re thieves and savages," Dirt says, "mindless murderers." He shakes his head, surveying the scene ahead of them. "But this…" He couldn’t make sense of it. "It crazy, what they're doing here, it definitely is—" He can't put his finger on it. "But it just doesn’t seem like... that, you know?" He considers all he's seen. "Nothing about all this seems 'mindless' to me."

Against his better judgement, Dirt listens to Con’s tirade and would be ashamed to admit that some of it made the tiniest bit of sense. It was the word ‘occupation’ that hit him harder than any of the rest. He’d certainly never considered his home 'under occupation' before.

"He loves the humans, my dad," Dirt continues, soft. "He’s proud to live in a—what’d that guy call it?—a hominid colony?" He laughs, mirthless. "I’d never really thought of it like that. It’s just… home." There was a sadness to his voice, as if the old familiar word had fallen out of his mouth wrong somehow. A sheen dulled from the rubbing.

And, if what the man was saying were true, then that would make Dirt, what? Some kind of prisoner? A refugee? Some blind, dumb, little sheepy? He rejected the idea out of hand. His father was right. What the fuck did these batshit crazy assholes know about his home? About his friends? About his life?

Dirt finds himself standing and shouting, "And what does Thoth-Suroh think of attempted murder, huh?" as the crowd parts in front of him. "How about kidnapping? How about arson? How about scaring the shit out of innocent people who have nothing to do with any of this, huh?"

Yoshi folds the card up and slips it into his pocket.

"I mean, you're not wrong, wrong," he says. He himself is a part of what many would consider to be an abhorrent organization. But people who live cushy, safe lives can't truly understand the necessity of actions that might not be so nice, when you have no other option. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that by letting them go along with their plan, he was dooming some innocent person to a horrible death. Possibly lots of innocent people.

He glances over at Tross. She seems smart. Perhaps too smart to get a good read on. But he needed to know those names. Just in case."And what about me," he says, hoping that keeping them talking will take their minds off of the prying he's doing. "Where do I fit into this? Does Thoth-Suroh want me dead?"

"Sure, sure, sure. You’re right--" No. Don't do it. "It’s our fault," Dirt says, "for resisting." He nods, understanding now. "Right." He smiles. This man is dangerous. Do not provoke him. "Right, right, right, right, right." Dirt puffs up to Con. "’Cause you’ve got a gun," he says, "so that makes you right. Right?" He holds Con’s gaze. An accusation. A challenge. "You're literally doing the thing that you claim to be fighting against, you know that, right?" Dirt shakes his head, dumbfounded. "Good. Good, good, good. Makes sense." He gives Con a thumbs up.

"And Dirt curls that thumb into a fist and punches the crap out of--

Dirt sighs and turns his back on Con. He's not worth it. Dirt kept telling himself that the right course of action is to do nothing and wait this out, and he's desperately trying to do that, but every time this guy opens his beak, Dirt wants to put his fist through it.

Honestly, Dirt wasn’t all that sure how he felt about any of what the man was actually saying, and maybe he was mocking a revolutionary and defending a tyrannical government. But he did know this guy was a piece of shit. He liked hurting people. He liked the part of this religion where he gets to kicking people around. It's a rock solid excuse for him. Justification to do what he wants to whoever he wants to do it to. He’ll always find ‘just cause.’

Dirt very badly wants to beat the crap out of this guy. He would love nothing more. But he doesn't. Instead, he stand with Yoshi. And, he taps his toe. "So are you guys done yet, or what? Will you let us go now? Like, look--" He gestures around the room. "It's crowded back here. Borderline claustrophobic. This is a stressful situation. People could just start snapping at any moment. Nobody wants that. You don't need all these hostages to push delete over and over on your little computer or whatever, right? You need one hostage, two max," Dirt says. "I'm fine to volunteer. I still gotta get my picture taken anyway." He sits down in a chair and intertwines his fingers behind his head. "You got me. You got a big important child prodigy surgeon as your hostage." He gestures to himself, the prize. "Plus, I’m a teenager. The police can’t storm the place if there’s a minor involved. So yeah. You’re good to just let everybody else go. Less risk of something going wrong."

In the corner of his eye, Dirt can see Aythya. Please just let her go. The others too, but he hoped for her most of all.

Yoshi's stomach nearly erupted from his throat.

"Christian Ziawk?" He hadn't even considered that name in a long time. Why delete his legal existence? He was long dead. Or at least that's what he thought. Was he just a decoy name?

Suddenly this whole situation was starting to feel very surreal. Yoshi wasn't sure how much he believed in fate or whatever, but here he was in the middle of a hostage situation after just reuniting with an old friend, and now he'd stumbled upon the name of that old friend's long dead brother? He felt like he was meant to be here, in this place, discovering this information. He was privy to this knowledge for a reason. But what was he supposed to do with it?

He snaps back to reality just in time to witness Dirt's gambit. The bird was always good with words, and at making friends and bridging gaps between people, but this was on another level. He needed to tell Dirt about Christian, but how?

The zap interrupts his racing mind. "Hell yeah," he whispers. "Egg sucking slum lord," he says, spitting.

The operation would probably end soon, and he still didn't know what move to make. Might as well extract all the information he possibly can while he's stuck here."Do y'all even know the people you're deleting from existence? How can you be sure they aren't like counter counter agents or something?"

Dirt stares at Con, taking in what he'd done. He'd kept his word. He didn't have to, but he did. Dirt was thankful for that, he supposed, but it didn't change his mind about the bird. Sure, he was honorable, this time. It doesn't make him any less of a bastard though. Doing good shit doesn't make up for the bad. Doing bad shit just stains you. You can't undo that, Dirt figures. He wasted no more time on Con.

Dirt secured the most injured security guard on his wingboard and shoved it into Aythya's hands. "Go," he pleads. "Don't wait. Take him right now." He turns to the gull. "Her. She's taking this guy." He corrals her and the guard towards the exit. "Go as fast as you can," he says, then adds, "for his sake. He smile faintly. "Go." "Ey yo, Yosh," Dirt shouts over his shoulder, "You got the other guy?" He knew he did, but it's always nice to ask.

It occurred to Dirt that he’d said three injured? Did he miss something? He looks around for the third injured man. "Oh right," he sneers at the landlord. Serves him right. He’s no innocent.

"Mountain Bird." Yoshi internalizes the location. "In the food court."

He stifles a laugh at Dirt's question. "The other guy? Security?" He looks down at the slumped over security guard. "Respectfully, hell no. Look, send him out with the Doc or with Booster or whoever but leave me out of it. I do not mess with them dudes. He's lucky he got off that easy."

He steps forward and addresses the Ruby Sun members. "Hey, y'all said you would torch our records too if we wanted, right? What about just part of a record?"

He looks at Dirt, the hopeful boyscout. "Same as ever," he thinks. But that's not entirely true. Yoshi can't tell if it's the Empathy, pure vibes or the moss, but something about Dirt is fundamentally different. It's like something is missing. Or maybe something else is lurking there beneath the surface. Or a combination of both. If he knew that his brother's name was on their list, would it give him hope or destroy him?

"Nothing I can do about it now," he thinks, gritting his teeth. "But I won't forget Mountain Bird, or Jeremiah. And I sure as hell won't forget Christian Ziawk."

He catches the form, and flips to the page where his psionic abilities are listed. In a flash it's out and onto one of the smoldering piles.

"This will put a gap in their data, but it won't be enough," he thinks.

"Any chance you could scrub an incident report?"

Dirt cocks an eyebrow at Yoshi’s request to purge an incident report. Same old Yoshi. He smirks. He knows how it feels to have his past haunt him though, so he’s happy his friend was getting a second chance to live without that weight on shoulders. The Fleet has been that second chance for Dirt, and he hopes this is Yoshi’s. His eyes fall on the ashes of Yoshi’s medical record wilting in the fire and he can’t help wondering what was on it, but he figures if Yoshi wants him to know, he’ll know.

He gives his own paperwork a once-over and considers tearing out Page 2 of his forms as well, but ultimately puts the clipboard back on the counter and walks away. He figured the only reason he was accepted into flight school in the first place was because of his unnaturally fast reflexes, so he definitely didn’t want to rock that boat. It sure as hell wasn’t for his grades. He’s struggling in basically every subject except aeronautics, astronavigation, and practical flight.

Dirt watches as Aythya and the others disappear behind the blast-doors and breathes a sigh of relief. Why had he been so tense? He still has half a dozen more hostages to worry about, but with her—them—safe, he somehow feels like he’s already on the other side of this thing. He just hopes the damn station security doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s had enough excitement for one day.

He snorts a laugh. Ah yes. No matter how many good deeds one does in a day, there’s always someone still in need of help. He kneels by the little crabling. "What’s up, little dude?" he says. He adds in a funny old-human accent his mom use to do, "What can I do ya far, laddie?"

He digs in his pocket and pulls out a half-eaten NuggyBar. He pulls it from the package and set the wrapper on the ground and places the bar on top of it. "Food?" he asks as the first option. He crumples a ball of paper around his fist to create a dome and sets that down next to the candy bar. "Shelter?" He thinks a moment. What else does could crablings really need? And where the hell did he get a coin like that anyway? He shrugs. "Or, I guess, are you here for your station ID like the rest of us?" He puts his expired ID card down in line with the other items as the third options and gestures for the crabling to choose.

A wild grin spreads across Dirt’s face. He should be scared. He’s very likely hallucinating from some terrible illness or tumor or something. But he can’t help it. He trusts the flame and takes the coin.

"Hey, alright. Thanks for finding this, little guy. I’ll try to figure out where it goes." He sticks out his pinky finger and pounds the crabling’s claw.

He gives the non-coin a good looking-over. "No chance somebody wrote their name on it, huh Crabby?"

He watches Cardi closely. Dude was all business, but he seemed fair enough. No reason to lie. "I'm not religious or anything. We went to temple when I was a kid, but I didn't exactly fit in."

"My older brother gave it to me when I turned 13. It means I'm family." Yoshi shrugs. "I was raised by reptilians. Straight up."

"Oh and my name's Yoshi Modo."

Yoshi can't believe it. After all these years he's finally untethered from his besmirched record. Now he can really move in silence. He gives Cardi a nod, and gets in close enough so no one else can hear him.

"I take it you know what I'm capable of now." He too stretches his legs in preparation for a swift exit. "Look, y'all are in a bad spot. Security's going to pop up in here before you get a chance to get out, and there's gonna be way more than three of them. But, I can provide you cover. You've got to do something for me first, though." He checks over his shoulder to make sure absolutely no one else can hear him. "Tell me everything you know about Christian Ziawk."

Yoshi rushes forward, hops and barely manages to slide through the convulsing door.

"Huh." Dirt turns the item over in his hands, thoughtfully. "Maybe you found some sort of mythical belt buckle or something, huh Crabby?" He holds it in place at his waistline and nods approvingly. "How do I look?" He poses for the crabling. "Maybe we’ll try it on later, but for now, things are about to go sideways ‘round here." He squats down with his back to the crabling and gestures for him to hop on. "Care for a ride, my friend?" He unzips his jacket to make room if he wants to climb inside. "It’s not the most spacious of getaway vehicles," he says, "but it is armored." He knocks on the ultra-thin Kevlar fabric pocket. As Dirt waits for Crabby's response, he looks over his shoulder and studies the crabling meticulously. He takes a mental snapshot in brain and sets it to memory. There were other crablings around, and Dirt would hate to accidently snub him his new friend if they ran into each other again.

"Alright, hold on, buddy," he says to Crabby--maybe Mooney? There isn't time. "Let's try to get everybody out of here in one piece, shall we?"

With Cardi and Tross making their exit, the hostages were on their own now. Like loose sheep in a war between wolf packs. He had to do something.

Dirt steps up in front of hostages. "Alright, everybody," he says, loud but calm. "Everything's going to be alright. We just need to be out in the open where security can see us, hands up in the air. Everybody just sit down where you're at." He sits down with his hands up as an example. "Right where you're at and cross your legs," he says. "That's right. Everybody just sit down and put your hands up and we'll calmly wait for this to be over. We're almost there, everybody. Almost over."

Yoshi nods at Cardi. "I do like poetry," he says. He waits until the birds duck (no pun intended), behind the counter and, crouched low, he creeps forward a few steps to get a better view of the lobby."Hopefully this buys them enough time to get out."

Yoshi puts all of his focus into the space at the center of his forehead, and visualizes the opening of an unseen eye. The world in front of him seems to waver and swim, as he conjures the most useful scene he can imagine. As the images flicker to life in front of him, he waits intently for what happens next.

He should've known better. The TKB, Talon and Orochi all pale in comparison to the ruthlessness of Security, Cybele's most dangerous gang. "No honor," he thinks, as he fingers the hole in his sleeve, freshly singed by one of the wild blaster shots. His body armor had, fortunately, absorbed the blast.

He scans the area behind the counter and sees Cardi and Tross still making their way toward the exit. He curses in Kebo under his breath.

In the same instant, the illusory Tross and Cardi stumble to the ground, clearly "injured" by the volley of blasts.

Out of the corner of his eye he catches Dirt heading into the data vault. Had he seen Yoshi try to cover for the Ruby Sun birds? He hoped not. Dirt was always cool, but he wasn't sure how friendly he'd be to a terrorist sympathizer. Especially coming from the family he did. His dad was always a real "upstanding citizen."

"I can't give up now. They're so close." He steels himself and leans back against the wall to get a good view of the pathway to the birds' exit. "Just need like 5 more seconds."

Suddenly, the scene behind the counter and on the way to the break room seems to absorb Cardi and Tross, as they fade into the background, and Yoshi again activates The Dreaming.

Yoshi draws in a deep breath. "This is a wild ass day," he thinks. He imagines himself explaining this situation to the gecks on Deck 11 later. Would he even be able to tell them the cool parts? He sucks his teeth and grunts in frustration.

Well-armed shadows begin to darken the floor of the entryway, and he knows he needs to act fast. As soon as Cardi and Tross break out into their run, he dismisses the illusion he was using to obscure them, and devotes his attention back to the site of the "injured" birds.

He begins by re-conjuring the downed birds, then has the illusory Con reach into his illusory belt, grab an illusory smoke grenade and throw it into the air. When it crashes onto the ground, an illusory clank heralds a cloud of illusory smoke that envelopes the area where the three lay. As soon as he's got the cloud good and conjured, he makes a break for the security office. He spots Dirt in the data vault on his way. "Come on, man, don't be a hero," he pleads. He stands at the door, waiting for Dirt to follow behind, one eye still on the cloud of smoke, attempting to give it just enough time to seem natural before he enters the security office and it dismisses.

"Hey buddy!" Dirt shouts over the ricocheting laser blasts and the racket they’re making in the break room. He scoots with his back against the wall until he can peek around the corner of the data vault into the hall. "It’s good to see you, man!" he says. "Assuming we don’t die, should hang out!" He shoots Yoshi a wild smile.

Was he… having fun? No. Absolutely not. People could die. This was not fun. It was a little exciting though, he had to admit. This is the kind of thing he’d signed up for the Fleet for right? Defending his people from enemies? He didn’t think those enemies would be his own station security but that’s Cybele for you.

He braces hands on either side of the door frame. "Three. Two. One!" He darts across the hall and barrels through the security office door.

He throws his hands up the second he and Yoshi are inside. "It’s just us," he says to the hostage, "but Security is right behind us so stay calm and no erratic movement. Hands up people!" he sits on the ground and puts his hands in the air and awaits the storm.

When he can hear boots in the hall, Dirt calmly shouts, "Hostages! We’re hostages! Hostages in here!" Dirt thought it was pretty obvious they were the hostages but when you’re dealing with station security, it requires a little foolproofing.

Yoshi crashes into the security room and buries his head in his hands. What feels like seconds later, he is being escorted out of the room.

"Did they make it?" He wonders.

He approaches Dirt. "Whatever happens, meet me at the drop tonight," he says. His tone is grave. "You never saw me here, ok?"He sees the duck girl approach and takes it as his opportunity to break away.He throws his hood up and walks swiftly away, ignoring any kind of calls or commands for him to stay.

Dirt nearly chokes as Aythya throws her arms around him. Holy hell. Did she always smell this good? He manages to smile down at her. He wants to hold her. Wants to pick her up and spin her around. To kiss her here and now in front of the whole world. But he doesn't. He simply rests his hands on the small of her back and holds her for that one, single, forever moment, then he lets her slip from his chest, and his arms, and from the tips of his fingers.

Dirt is pulled from his revelry by her pat to the shoulder and chuckles. "Thanks, pal," he says and gives her a playful jab on her own shoulder. "I'm glad you're safe too," he says, maybe a little too earnestly. He blushes. "I, uh..." He wants to look down, but he holds her gaze. Ask her, he says to himself. Do it. Do it now. Ask her on a-- He chokes. "How are the, uh..." He clears his throat. "--guards. Have they been checked out yet? Either of them woken up or said anything?" He kneels by the side of the guard he healed and presses a gentle hand to the man's wrist to check his pulse.

Yoshi stifles a yelp. "You've got to stop doing that, gila. One of these days I'm not gonna know it's you and then..." He does a couple of mock swings, like he's slicing an invisible enemy with a katana. "Wah-ta, wah-ta, wah-taaaahhh!"

He straightens himself up and raises his singed sleeve. "Check it, they tried to zap your boy, but they couldn't get through my impenetrable physique." He grins, and then gets in close and lowers his voice. "I ain't even worried about Bowser. Cause guess what? I got intel, baby." He taps a finger against his temple. "Bird weapon stash. I'll probably make Dan before the end of the night." He dusts his shoulder off and sticks his chin in the air with pride. "Don't worry I'll put in a good word for you. If you play your cards right."

But his mirth is cut short when he hears the familiar squawking of his enemies. "I thought I smelled trash," he says to the pigeon rolling up the moss. "Polly want a cracker?" He stands ready for action.

"No scales... warm blood..." the words echo inside the cavern of loneliness that is Yoshi's mind. He can't let a slight like this go unpunished.

"It's Deck 11 wherever I go, bruh. I'll give you 5 seconds to drop the can and act like you know not to fuck with me." He throws up the Orochi hand sign.

Dirt climbs out of the van with Talon on his mind and nearly bumps into Aythya. "Oh hey, uh, yeah. Yeah, you, uh--" God! Why is he always so tongue tied around her? "--take care too." He beams at her. "And yeah. Totally. The third floor and me are like--" The van door slams. Dirt laughs and deflates a little, but holds his head high. Well hot damn. She wants me to 'come say hi.' He resists the urge to pump his fist. Saint Lucy's. Saint Lucy's. Saint Lucy's. He commits it to memory. Third floor. Saint Lucy's. Aythya. Third floor. Saint Lucy's--

Dirt looks for a way out of this madhouse–still down one Station ID card, he couldn't help but notice–when he spots Zrain Cloudchaser hooting around outside the cordoned off zone. Come to bail Ol' Dirty out of whatever mess he'd gotten himself into this time. If it wasn't for those blast doors, Zrain would've probably been in there between him and the terrorists waving his wallet around trying to pay for whatever Dirt had broken or ruined or generally messed up. It wasn't that he had money either, quite the opposite actually. Zrain was Poor, poor. Nobody paid his rent. (Well, he lives in the barracks, but you get the point). He had no financial safety net of any kind, and yet, he was just the type of guy who would've given his shirt, and shoes, and glasses off his face, all his books, everything. He'd have given everything he had to help out a friend. Dirt knew that to be true, because Zrain had given everything to help Dirt after mom and brother...after the attack. He'd been the one that told Dirt he had to keep living, had to chase his dream for them. Because they'd have wanted him to. He'd even signed up for the Fleet so that Dirt wouldn't be alone. He had some of his own reasons for wanting to reach for the stars, but he gave up his comfy, cozy studious life to be there for Dirt. And Dirt would never forget it. Not for as long as he lived.

"Zrain!" Dirt hurries over to him and Booster. "How does my hair look? Do I look okay?" He poses for Zrain and at his friend's perplexed look, Dirt pulls him aside slightly, but still within earshot of Booster, and whispers, "I'm gonna be rich, my dude!" Dirt checks over his shoulder that the coast is clear, then spills the beans. "The Lizard Lampoon is paying big bucks for an interview with a hero. I'm talking quadruple digits, baby." He gives Zrain a "discreet" high five. "I figure I'll just say I carried someone to safety and boom, I'm a hero. Cha-Ching!" Dirt does a little money dance as he watches Booster from the corner of his eye. "Cha-ching! Cha-ching! Cha-ching!" He keeps on dancing until hopefully Booster takes the bait and leaves to collect the prize himself.

Yoshi continues to stare down the "boss" as he waddles away. "Fools," he whispers to no one in particular.

He turns to Melly after they leave. "Those guys have the worst vibes. I can't stand them. Trouble-making ass bunch of goons." He tries to shake the anger out. "No more pie, unfortunately. And hey, you leave Yuki alone." He points a serious finger at Melly.

"I don't know, geck, I guess we could get in on that action. Tell you the truth I'm pretty beat, but I'm not gonna turn down extra money." He considers his instruction to meet up with Dirt at the Drop. "Can't run too late though. Got a prior thing."

'Right now though, I just want to kick back, burn some moss and listen to some music or something. You game?"

Dirt clicks his tongue. "Hard pass on the races," he says. "You do you, and all is hooty-hoo, but they treat those dactyls like shit. It ain’t for me." He ponders Zrain’s other suggestion. "Now, you know I’m always willing to grind some ground bitches beneath my boot," he says, tempted. "But once I get started with the nectar, there's usually no one-and-done option for me, especially when rivalries are involved. Next week for sure. Tonight, I got plans though. Can’t be too molted." He notes Zrain's hopeful eyebrow raise. "Not those kind of plans." He swears, Zrain is jonesing for him to find a nice guy or gal and settle down on some quiet outer deck. He's referred to himself as 'Uncle Zrain' on multiple occasions. The dude's incorrigible. Dirt clarifies, "Meeting an old friend. I'll introduce you to him sometime. You'd like him. He's a big mosshead," Dirt adds, "Just like you." He gives Zrain a sideways glance and smirks.

"In the meantime," Dirt says as he squeezes his way through the throng of assembled rubberneckers, "what do you say we hit the simulator?" He adds quickly, "I know we hit it last night, and the night before, but I gotta be ready--we," he corrects, "gotta be one hundred percent perfect tomorrow." His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. "The Peregrine Flyers don't take C students, ya heard? They don't even take the top one percent of the top--" From the look on Zrain's face, Dirt stops and politely gets off his soapbox. He reluctantly offers, "Or." He sighs. "If you're all sim'd out, I suppose we could work on your hand-to-hand fighting skills instead. " He adds more seriously, "You tap out of another brood challenge and Preen could clip your wings, mayn." He throws the choice to Zrain with a head nod. "What'cha feeling, bird?"

Yoshi spots Dirt coming from a mile away. The guy has a way about him. He always had. Just a certain energy that makes him unable to be mistaken for anybody else. If there was one thing boot camp hadn't taken away from him, it was his spark.

"Or maybe I'm just high," he thinks. He gives Dirt a subtle nod when he's sure he's been seen.

He takes the lead and heads down the secret opening first. His feet pad the floor as he lands. He scurries over to a jury-rigged dimmer switch, and waits for Dirt to land. When he does, the dim glow of string lights softly illuminates the compartment beneath the mega ramp that they affectionately refer to as The Drop.

"Hey," Yoshi says. He wonders how long it's been since Dirt's been down here. He also wonders if Dirt can tell that he still comes down here when he needs to clear his head and get away from everything. It had been a lot lately. The only people he knew of that were ever aware of this place were Yoshi, Dirt and...

"Christian," he thinks.

"How you doing, man?"

Dirt chuckles. "Good man." He claps Zrain on the back. "We should probably make it three competitions though right?" At Zrain's confused look, Dirt takes off running down the hall at a full-tilt sprint. He calls back over his shoulder, "Last one to the hexagon is a lazy lizard lover!"

Dirt and Zrain train the night away. First, Dirt dons a pair of punching mitts and they go enough rounds to make his hands hurt. Then they 'rassle. Not wrestle, 'rassle. Wrestling has rules. 'Rasslin ain't got none. It's a lot more like a real fight and more fun too.

After that, they hit the sim, sweaty as all hell, but that was nothing new for the sim. You can only imagine the smell in there if you've never been, but you get used to it after a while. Dirt knows the Devil's Nebula like the back of his hand, but they drill it and drill it and drill it again until Dirt's alarm goes off and yanks him back to reality. "Damn. I gotta go, man, but we got this shit." He daps up Zrain and grabs his wingboard. "Get some rest. We got a big day tomorrow. Big, big day!"

Dirt kicks up dust as his wingboard settles down at the top of The Drop. "Damn," Dirt says under his breath, taking in the familiar surroundings. It's been a hot minute. Old memories flood in and the nostalgia is palpable for Dirt. So many good times here. He checks that the coast is clear, old habits dying hard and all, then goes to pry open the hatch, but it's loose. Maybe Yoshi already beat him here. Hell, maybe Yoshi lives here, he didn't know. He dismisses the thought, then takes a couple tentative steps down the makeshift ladder rungs, then hooks his feet around the outside and slides the rest of the way down like old times. He lands in a pool of diagonal shadows and laughs when he sees Yoshi. "Duuude. This is crazy. Really takes me back." He takes in the room, basking in it. "Actually, I think the last time I was down here was--" His smile slowly fades as he realizes... "Before..." He tries to continue, but can't. He swallows hard. He looks up at his friend and knows that Yoshi knows what he means. Don't think about it. He forces a smile. Don't ruin this, he tells himself.

"Looks just like it used to," he says. "I guess nobody else found it." He flops down in a beanbag chair they'd made out of dumpster bag filled with packing peanuts and interlaces his fingers behind his head. "I'm good, man," he says. "You see these muscles, baby? Military issue, yo. You're not the only mac-daddy around here now, mayn." He puffs up his chest and raises his chin, then laughs and deflates. "For real though, it's good. I've got a real shot at flying," he says, then adds, "as long as I don't screw it all up." He snorts a laugh, obviously kidding. Sorta. "How about you?" He pretends to check if the coast is clear. "You some kind of bigshot now?" He looks Yoshi over. "By the look of you, I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and guess... He thinks. "Rodeo clown?" He fights back a smirk. "No, no--manure farmer, right? You've always been a hell of a shit-stirrer, after all." He nods, approvingly. "It suites you." He breaks and smiles at his old friend. It feels good to give Yoshi shit again, just like the old days.

Yoshi chuckles at Dirt's antics. "Yeah it's mostly the same. Though I've been able to add a couple of things over the years." He makes his way to the corner of the room, bends down and opens a nice looking mini fridge that looks very out of place. It had been a bitch to get down here. "Beer? Seltzer? Juice?" Who says crime doesn't pay? He tosses Dirt whatever drink he specifies.

"Still got Mega Bash Sibs on the TS5, if you feel like getting embarrassed sometime. I picked up some other games for the collection too. Chimera Quest Lavender, Flute of the Ages, Last Story 19..." He sips his beer and takes a seat on the rocking gaming chair near Dirt.

"Damn, baby bird finally got his wings, huh?" Yoshi wondered at just how seriously Dirt took his military career. We all do what we have to do, but he just couldn't shake the visions of Jeremiah's ravaged home. How long before his old friend was doing bombing raids on farms? Creating more Talon cells? "I'm happy for you. You belong in the air, know what I'm saying?" He finds a bag on the old table in front of them and begins rolling up some moss.

He lights up and inhales deeply. "Yeah, rodeo clown sounds good," he laughs. He hesitates for a moment. "I can trust you right?" He lifts his shirt, revealing a twisting dragon tattoo on his chest. The hallmark of an Orochi member. "Not a big shot. Just a geck with skills."

He shifts in his chair, trying to gradually work his way up to telling Dirt what he came here to tell him. "Crazy day, huh? You stick around for the cops?"

He takes another drag, then offers Dirt the za.

"Oo," Dirt says, eying the fancy fridge. "Somebody's moving up in the world, I see." He nods approvingly. He turns his nose up and speaks haughtily, "One bubbly libation please, good sir. Preferably Cosmic Berry if you would be so kind." He cracks it, sips, and lets out a refreshing, "Ahh," as he lounges in his makeshift beanbag chair.

"Whew baby," Dirt says, rubbing his hands together like a supervillain. "You're going down, fool." Dirt grabs the controller, boots up Mega Bash Sibs, and selects a dancing ball of custard named Puff-Puff Jiggle.

He smiles at his friend's words. "Thanks, man." He still cringes a little though. "Honestly, I was kind of nervous to tell you. Wasn't exactly sure how you'd feel about the whole 'military galactic complex' thing, ya know?" He sighs, shaking his head. "I don't even know how I feel about it to be honest, but here we are." He shrugs. "Hopefully I can do more good than bad, ya know?"

Dirt chuckles. "I'm a lot of things, but I ain't no fucking rat." He sings, "Fuck the police. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em. Fuck the police." He laughs and checks out Yoshi's tat, impressed. "Damn dude. If I'd known their standards were so low, maybe I'd doing seed runs through the asteroid belt right now." He laughs, teasing his friend, but his mind fixates on the word 'asteroid.' He realizes he hadn't said that word out loud in over a year. He hadn't been intentionally avoiding it he didn't think, but, subconsciously? Maybe. Don't think about it, he told himself. Not now. He forces down the flicker of a frown and plasters on a smile for his old friend. "I'm just kiddng, mayn. I'm glad you found your place. Really." He nods. "Just..." He considers not saying anything. "Don't get got." He leaves it at that. "Ya heard?"

He greedily accepts the moss and puff-puff-passes it back. He holds in the smoke and chokes out a, "Yah," then exhales a massive cloud of pale yellow smoke. "Easier to just tell the truth when the truth is that I don't know shit, I didn't see shit, and I ain't never heard of nobody, nowhere, no-how." He shrugs. "I noticed you slipped the collar though," he says, impressed again. "Pretty slick." He narrows his eyes at Yoshi. "And I do believe I saw you destroying official government records..." Dirt is "on to" something. "So I guess these days you're Orochi and Talon now, huh?"

"We all have our own motivations we have to follow. You got yours, I got mine. I know you've got a good heart. That's what matters the most." He takes another couple of puffs of moss and hands it back to Dirt.

When the character select screen appears, he picks random. "Wouldn't be fair to use my main," he says with a grin.

"Don't worry about me, man. The opps aren't anywhere close to my level." When the match ends, he takes a victory sip (or defeat sip).

"I thought you said you didn't see shit," he says, at Dirt's mention of the record destruction. He sets his controller down. "About that... there's something I need to tell you. Well, a few things really. Just try not to freak out about them, ok?"

He drains the rest of his drink and stands up. "You remember Krell and Seamus? They were in high school back when we were in junior high. Couple of real assholes. Used to make fun of me relentlessly. Humiliate me, torture me, beat the shit out of me. I couldn't fight back then so they got away with it. Steg offered to whoop their asses but making him handle my problem would've felt worse than the beatings." He grabs another drink out of the fridge. "You remember how they disappeared all of a sudden? You ever wonder why?"

Yoshi focuses deeply, and all of a sudden the room becomes a dark alleyway behind Dirt and Yoshi's middle school. They watch, like ghosts, as the scene plays out before them:

***

An 11 year old Yoshi rushes into the alley clutching a book to his chest, nervous sweat beading on his forehead. Mocking laughter emits from either side of the alleyway as two older Kebo kids step into view: Krell and Seamus.

"What's the matter, little hot blood? You scared?"

Yoshi backs away from the approaching Krell, only to bump into the chest of Seamus, who immediately pushes him onto the ground. His book flies into the air.

"Where you gonna run? Back to that blood traitor old lady?"

Yoshi starts to crawl over to his book, but is interrupted by a kick to his stomach.

Krell draws his Kebo-tet. "You see this? This is my little problem solver."

Seamus grabs Yoshi by the throat and starts to raise him up.

"My dad says the biggest problems on this station are birds, hot bloods and blood traitors." Krell steps toward Yoshi and makes a couple of light slices around his torso. Red stains begin to form on his shirt. "Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't we join you in paying old Granny Modo a visit? Maybe we could solve two problems at once."

Something changes in kid Yoshi's eyes. Seamus and Krell begin to scream. Both fall to the ground, suddenly terrified by some unknown force. They claw at their scales, crying and screaming, reduced to animalistic horror and desperation. Kid Yoshi stands over them with a flat expression.

***

The Dreaming ends. Yoshi and Dirt return to their little ramshackle hideout. "They never really recovered. Got shipped off to a care facility on Kebos from what I heard."

He returns to his gaming chair. "I call it The Dreaming. I can show people visions. Scenes from the past, worst fears, greatest desires, whatever I want really. And it's pretty easy to find out, because I can also read people's minds. See, I'm a psionic. Hence the record burning."

"Anyway, now that I've told you that, I guess I can get to the real reason why I wanted you to meet me here today. Besides catching up." He takes a breath, and then a ridiculously deep puff of moss. "Those Talon dudes from earlier today, Ruby Sun? I read their minds. I had to find out who was on their list, just in case something really bad goes down. Christian's name was on it."

Dirt blinks.

"Christian?" He laughs. "That’s pretty fucked up, man." He tries to shake it off. "Like, really. Pretty not cool."

His smile fades as he fights his anger towards his friend’s…what, joke? Pretty fucking funny.

"Yeahh. I think I’m gonna go." He gets up. "It was good to see you." Was it though? Seriously. What the fuck was that?

He grabs a rung of the ladder, hesitates, then turns back to tell his old friend exactly where he can go fuck himself, but something about Yoshi’s eyes, the sincerity in them, unnerves Dirt. He scowls and narrows his eyes.

"You can read people's minds, huh?" Dirt says as a challenge. "What am I thinking right now?"

Go fuck yourself, you stupid fucking piece of... He trails off. His face probably says, "go fuck yourself" all on it's own. It had to be something Yoshi couldn't possible deduce on his own. Dirt focuses his mind on an emo girl, Cindy Scales, that Yoshi had a crush on a few years back. He repeats in his head, I french kissed Cindy Scales in the theatre box office junior year. Then again, and again. I french kissed Cindy Scales...

Yoshi watches in disbelief at Dirt's reaction.

"Fuck are you looking at me like you're mad at me for? Look, I didn't have to tell you any of this shit."

He pauses.

"I don't like to read friend's minds. It feels like an invasion. But if you're gonna call me a liar, so be it..."

He opens his third eye to gently prod at what Dirt is thinking.His heart sinks into his gut. The image is clear. Dirt and Cindy, beak to maw. Feathers flying, scales shining. He asks her to be his girlfriend. She denies him, but the makeout sesh resumes.

Back in reality, Yoshi's sorrow turns into rage.

"You turkey! You knew I liked her!" He brushes his green dreads back, bracing his throbbing head. "I ought to knock that beak right off your face..." He stands. "And you know what? I think I will! RAAAHHHHH!"

He rushes Dirt, ready to punch him right in the dome, but stops suddenly. "AAAAaaauuuuhhh what the hell am I doing? Things would've never worked out between me and Cindy. I can't be held down. I'm a lone cowboy. Just a matter of time before I'd have to hit that dusty trail."

He sighs. "Do you believe me now?! What else do I need to do? I could show you back in high school when Sally Mander told everybody you have a weird cloaca. Just give me the sign and I'll use my PSIONIC FUCKING POWERS."

He takes a few breaths to calm himself down. "Look, Christian's name was on their list. It's possible that he was just one of the decoy identities, but its also possible he's not. One of the Ruby Sun birds told me I could meet up with him if he made it out alive. That's the best hope of finding out more information. I know he's your brother and it's a sensitive topic, but he was my friend too. I wouldn't joke about some shit like this. You going to join me for that tomorrow night or are you going to be too busy betraying your friends' trust?"

Dirt puffs up his breast and flares his nostril slits. He eyes Yoshi for a moment, then says, "Sally really said that shit?" He gives his friend a sideways smirk and deflates little.

He shakes his head as the tension eases out of him and is replaced with guilt and shame. He sighs. "Sorry, I, uh--" He rakes a hand through his crest of feathers. "I should've known you wouldn't say some shit like that. I'm an idiot, alright? It's just been a long time, and people change, and, I just..." He gives up on trying to explain and finally just looks up to meet Yoshi's eye. "My bad, yo," he says. "My bad." He hopes that'll squash shit like it used to.

"I still don't understand why Christian's name would be..." He realizes, "And shit. You've got fucking super powers?" He flops down in the dumpster bag chair again. "God damn, dude. So much to process here." He realizes again, "And while were at it, my cloaca is tight, alright? Pretty as a freaking peach, okay? Nothing weird about it. Nothing strange. Nothing weird at all. Nothing." He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, butthurt, until his mind comes back around full circle.

Christian.

His brother couldn't possibly be alive. Dirt watched him die. He can't-- "I don't care what it takes, I'll kill every one of those Talon bitches if they're using his name for some crazy terrorist shit." He can't even hope his brother is alive. That'd mean... It'd mean that they'd left him there. He'd left Christian to suffer god knows what fate at the hands of those fanatical assholes. He looks up at Yoshi. "Oh, I'll be there," he says, menacingly, his temple throbbing, jaw clenched.

Dirt collects his emotions, then gets up and rifles through a rusty, old tool box and finds a pair of bolt cutters. "And you trusted me," he says, slicing a sizeable gash across the center of his own palm. "So the least I can do is return the favor." He lets the blood pool in his cupped hand before covering it with the other hand and rubbing them together like he's warming them by a fire, then spreads them wide and says, "Ta-da!" Both hands are coated in sticky, warm blood, but the wound on his right hand has been replaced with a fleshly-stitched, pink scar.

Yoshi softens. "It's all good. And look, Sally is a hater. Don't worry about your cloaca."

He returns to his own seat. "Just promise me that you'll be cool. Don't go in there all angry looking for a fight. We gotta do this the right way."

He stands again when he sees Dirt grab the bolt cutters. "Dirt, man what are you doing? Geck, chill!" He watches as Dirt cuts himself. "Dude, calm down it's ok I forgive y-" The cut is suddenly gone.

Yoshi approaches Dirt and takes a closer look at his hands. "Illusion? Are you psionic too?" He takes Dirt's hand and smudges it with his thumb. The blood is real. "Not illusion. Then...what is it? What's your ability? When did you get it? How?"

Dirt shrugs. "Beats me." He wipes his hands onto a crusty old towel and stains it red. "I can just..." He mulls it over. "I don't know... feel injuries and sickness and just... fix them, I guess." He counts off his patients. "First was my dad..." He sidesteps any story there. "Then I broke my collar bone in training and just sort of popped it back into place. I can still feel where it's a little wonky though." He rubs the divot in his neck to make sure it's still there. "And, uh..." He cringes a little. "This is stupid, but there was a cricket in my bunk one night. And I just knew..." He grasps for words to describe exactly how he knew. "I could just sense it, ya know? It was sick and I just scooped it up in my hands, and I found it in my mind's eye, or focused my chi or chakras, or whatever--" He laughs at his own wu-wu bullshit. "And I just breathed into that feeling, like stoking a flame, hot in my chest, and then--you wouldn't believe it--a fucking hookworm as long as my hand spilled out of the fucking thing. It was crazy." He shivers thinking about it. "And then, well, I helped the security guard at the records office too, but that's really been it." He leans back in his chair, a sense of relief washing over him. It felt good to tell someone. "How'd I get it and why?" He shrugs again. "Beats the shit out of me, man." He adds, "Bad luck, maybe?" He laughs, but he certainly didn't think of it as a bad thing. Was he worried he was some sort of radioactive space-mutant freak-thing? Yeah, a little. But mostly he was glad he could use it to help people. "It's no freaking mind control," he teases, "But I'll take it."

"And don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior tomorrow night," he says, then adds, "And if I lose my temper and get you shot to pieces, well then... He rubs his hands together, presses them to Yoshi's chest, and makes a fake defibrillator shock noise as he shakes Yoshi by his shirt. He laughs. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. I'll be cool."

"Bad luck? Dude, you're a healer. That's amazing." He daps Dirt up. "Between the two of us, nobody stands a chance."

"I'll shoot you a text tomorrow and we'll meet up before heading to Cardi."

Before they split ways, Yoshi gives Dirt a friendly shoulder pat. "We should do this again, sometime. Maybe without all the stunning revelations." He laughs.