<//| Fozz |\\>

Fozz had approached the start of the conversation the same as every other. People down here had been mistreated and left to their own devices. The only interaction they'd had with authority was probably corrupt and morally bankrupt local enforcers - and the people that had put them in this hole. It was natural for them to start off clipped, defensive, and guarded.

The interviews were all difficult, but followed a similar thread. People would warm up to him, at least a little, as time went on. It got better as he was able to move from speaking to them to speaking with them. And throughout that process so far, three names repeated themselves. Roc, Lycra, and Win. They were apparently the people primarily responsible for shutting tunnels and keeping everyone else alive during the vicipod attack. They'd supposedly killed all of the moles in the tunnels as well, along with other stories. He had taken pages of notes filled with exaggerated tales of their heroism.

But as Auluwin overtook the conversation and put him in reactionary mode, Fozz realized the stories may not have been exaggerated after all. He hadn't even taken the time to use an identification wand on the three of them before she called blackwall protocols into place - which meant he now wouldn't be able to identify any of them. Even if he had a skill for it, doing so was no longer allowed. And if there was one thing he didn't want at the moment, it was to create friction with this group. For as aggressive as she was being, "Win" was following the law to the letter.

"Please - I need verbal confirmation. Do you affirm or deny your desire to attend Vuxarina's tutorial?"

"YES!" The Gzlonbhalin shouted at him from the edge of his chair. He had bright yellow eyes that carried the telltale spark of innate intelligence - the kind that Fozz knew would let a person question and hypothesize about the world around them without ever getting bored.

"I affirm." The Vuxarinan's words were slow, and carried more of the weight that actually represented the decision that was being made. Tutorials were opportunity, but they were also danger. As Fozz skimmed the man's datapad, it stood to reason that he was torn. He'd been taken from his planet as a child, and didn't actually know much about the world he would be traveling to. More than that, he seemed to understand the element of danger involved. He was definitely protective of the Gzlonbhalin, so there was an element of worry present in him. Fozz hoped some of the tales about Serroc's ranged fighting prowess were true - he was going to need that ability.

Fozz wished he could warn them about his suspicions around Belar - but his hands were tied. Realistically, the benefits of attending a tutorial should outweigh the issues that the company was causing on the planet. Even if the situation was not ideal, there were always people that valued a good smith - and Serroc was quite talented in that field. It was odd, though. Every time he looked at the man, something felt oddly... familiar. He just couldn't place it.

He rose from his seat, and took the two steps over and around the table. Serroc immediately rose and placed himself between Fozz and Lycra - which made Fozz realize that he'd been pondering instead of talking. The action of his movement had doubtless scared the prisoners.

"I need to remove your collars. Serroc, may I start with yours?"

The man nodded, and Fozz popped the fuse responsible for handling the tampering shocks, then pinched the weak metal and pulled it apart until it ripped. Despite the power required, the operation was gentle. Serroc stared at Fozz's bare fingers, then the now-broken collar. Fozz donned a warm smile and looked at Lycra. "Your turn, little one."

While he was at it, Fozz took the collar off of Auluwin as well. It was going to happen at some point in their conversation, and he figured doing it early would grant him a bit of appreciation and trust with her. She gave him a grateful nod, rubbed her neck, then wrapped her two compatriots in a hug.

A chime brought Fozz's attention to his interface. He dropped his pen, and his eyes went wide. Vuxarina's tutorial was already active, which meant high priority transportation. He knew preference was given to displaced individuals to allow them to attend their original home world's awakening events, but it was the first time he would witness what was about to happen. Normal means were out of the question. Even a fast-haul transport ship wouldn't get to the planet in time to comply with the Article that Auluwin had called into play. So upholding the requirements of the regulations and seeing Serroc get to his world with haste required a single, rare option.

Fozz read off the top of the document. "You two have been approved for high-grade transportation in the form of spatial displacement. Please stay calm, and stand clear of any other objects." Auluwin shoved chairs aside to give them more space, but the two didn't seem to understand what was happening. "You may feel disoriented by the transfer. Please keep your muscles loose and your hands at your sides. When you feel the pull - do not attempt to move. It will seem like you are in a dark room, don't worry, that's normal." Fozz had no idea if that was normal. He'd never had the pleasure of experiencing high-grade displacement.

Auluwin jumped in. "You two are getting teleported. Keep your hands inside the ride, and enjoy the experience. Stay loose and don't move or you're going to feel like shit when you get there. Good luck. Kick that tutorial's ass."

Fozz bit his lip. Of course she had experience with high grade teleportation. It made sense. He suppressed a kernel of jealousy.

Serroc made a gesture with his thumb that itched at Fozz's memory. "You know we will. Thanks again, Win."

Auluwin wore a sad smile. "Goodbye, you two."

Serroc's eyes took on a hard conviction. The itch intensified. "Not goodbye. We'll see you soon."

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An awkward few seconds passed as nothing happened. No one tried to get in a last word, and Fozz honored that by staying silent as he watched the three of them share knowing looks.

Spheres of magic energy so dense they were visible popped into existence and eveloped Serroc and Lycra. In a brilliant flash, the spheres disappeared and the two of them were gone. Fozz had to blink away the stars from his eyes. Serroc wasn't the only Vuxarinan he'd reunited with his home planet, but the prisoner's sendoff was certainly the most spectacular.

Fozz was still recovering when Auluwin jumped in again. "Renumeration. My friend Lycra was forced into servitude for a man named Thad. I believe that man had a ship. Assuming there are no other damaged parties with priority, I would like to take possession of it."

He frowned. Had it come up in the interviews that Lycra was the one that Thadden had on his ship? Fozz didn't think so... but he cycled through the transcripts as quickly as he could. His brain worked two different problems, and his mouth defaulted to proper conversational etiquette.

"I'm sorry, Autarch Auluwin, but I must confirm Lycra was indeed the person on that ship."

Her eyes narrowed with cold fire. "Don't call me that."

Fozz touched his eyebrow. "I apologize, Queen Aug-"

"I'm sorry, but no. I meant don't call me by any title." The words were full of disgust.

Fozz decided not to pry, for multiple reasons. He wasn't quite certain whether he was properly referring to her titles at all - there wasn't much precedent for how you should address assumed-dead rulers, who were ostensibly no longer in charge anymore... Fozz couldn't even ask his contacts for advice, because of the blackwall. That part may have been intentional. If the woman had been out of politics and regency for this long, she probably wanted a soft runway back into things. If she wanted to go back to those things at all.

Augestin Ascheron's murder had been the investigation and news of that entire era. When his daughter was investigated in his downfall, it sent her name and the reputation of all her backers into a scandalous spiral. Auluwin had only spent a short amount of time as a suspect, in the grand scheme of things. Her name was cleared quite quickly, but shortly after her innocence had been proclaimed, she disappeared. Now, she was here at the bottom of a secret mine on a no-name world, throwing out obscure legal codes and keeping Fozz on the edge of his seat. He wondered whether this was where she'd been the whole time. He greatly hoped - for her sake - that wasn't the case.

The bit of his attention he'd put to transcript review caught 4 separate references to the fact that Lycra and Thad had all been dumped out of the same transport and arrived at the same time, along with Serroc. It was one more witness confirmation than he needed. The itch in his head intensified again. He cleared his throat. She was eligible to take possession of the ship - or what was left of it.

"It would appear you have first rights to property. But - and I apologize - the Wheathop is not intact. The assets transferrable are the title, most of the frame, and an E-grade crystal reactor permit. Would you still like to take possession of the ship?"

Auluwin huffed, then nodded. "I do. I'll take whatever account balances are serviceable from Thad to make up the difference. Let's get this paperwork finished." She took a slow breath. "It's about time I see daylight again."

#

#

#

It took another day to process the rest of the prisoners, another four to clear out the hive mother and her spawn, and then two more days after that to properly tie up the interviews and rehousing prisoners portion of the investigation.

He was now six days into recording review. Fozz ground his teeth and bit the inside of his lip - again. The itch was back, and it was stronger than before.

The eyes and their conviction. The smile. The thumb gesture. They all reminded him of Sara Calderwall - but why did a random Vuxarinan remind him of Earth's Lord?

Fozz was in the middle of removing another reference to 'Roc' when his brain shifted just the right way.

A half tilt towards the impossible.

His finger pulled back from the delete button as he read the quote again. "Yeah, the poor guy was sick as hell when he got here. Looked almost completely different. It wasn't until he started taking Win's meds that he got the skin tone and those lines on his head back. Before that he looked... I guess just like a normal human. Pale skin and all that. But all-god's hooves I'm glad he recovered. We would've been screwed against the vicipods if we didn't have Roc's weapons."

Pieces of information swam into the forefront of his mind.

Serroc had arrived with Lycra and Thad. He'd immediately gotten into a fight with the lawbreaker, which probably meant there was something between them even before they'd went down into the mine.

Thad had crashed on Earth. Right next to the heritage site. Right next to the statue of Sara's father.

Thad had said he found a man stumbling naked through the woods.

So, what if he'd found Serroc... who was 'sick' in a way that made him look just like an Earthling.

Serroc, who had taken pills made by Auluwin Ascheron, a known apothecary - that miraculously made him look markedly different.

Serroc, whose eyes and expressions reminded Fozz of the pathfinder.

Serroc, who reports confirmed was an osteal smith.

Fozz's breathing quickened. He called up the recording of the heritage site.

Where the statue once stood, there were pieces of rock scattered across the ground. It looked a bit like debris that might appear when someone chipped apart stone, and most of the pieces were too small or too chipped apart to provide what he was looking for. He played it back at one frame, every five seconds. His eyes stared and scanned and consumed the images.

Fourteen minutes and thirteen seconds into the recording, he found a sign. An oddity. A small bit of stone lay on the ground. It was rounded and the top was missing, like half a tiny bath tub. Inside, Fozz saw the relief of a fingernail - nail bed and fingertip visible.

Like the stone wasn't a statue... but a shell.

He swallowed hard.

It was an open secret that Reid Oliver Calderwall was a self-affixer. A self-manipulator. Fozz couldn't even make an informational request on the topic of self-affixation without sending up red flags. He knew next to nothing about how any of self-affixation worked - which only left a sea of possibilities. Possibilities that could, technically, include a man spending a thousand years hibernating in a stone shell.

It was outlandish.

Sensational.

Possible.

Fozz's mind swam with heavy questions - and then his heart dropped.

Blackwall protocol meant he couldn't share any of this. He couldn't save any of it. He couldn't transfer any files or make mention of anything, to anyone. Not without the potential to lose his plate and position.

He couldn't tell another soul.

...

But that didn't mean he was banned from reviewing the information itself.

Fozz opened the list of unprocessed recordings, notes, and transcripts. They were already flagged for potential video and audio of the trio.

Part of his work, to comply with the blackwall, was to ensure all potential records of the three were destroyed.

And that meant he had hours and hours of video to watch.

Hours he could use to hypothesize, and confirm.

Floating in his ship high above a desolate and polluted world, Fozz pulled at a loose thread on a grand mystery.

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