Alex's office was usually a source of feelings of warmth and wellbeing. The closed door (bearing his surname and title) was usually a matter of some pride for it confirmed his superiority to the sixty-four employees working away out there at their desks, shuffling paperwork, inputting numbers, stamping dockets and filing copies, day after day after day. The walls of his office (thin and semi-permanent though they were) filled him with the certain knowledge that he was beyond such petty matters as data entry, it meant he was in lower management. They meant he was above the menial, his world was one that revolved around results, collation, projections, statistics, the big picture.
But today the office was not his friend, today the walls told him only that beyond them there were sixty-four employees whose lives were following their daily path and so would tomorrow and the day after that. All the door seemed to be saying was that there were five armed Shaktar between it and Alex and that he would never reach it alive. The Shaktars looked to be Operatives, four male, one female, one near the front was as far as Alex could make out not even in his teens and one at the back sported Cloak logos on his suit, Alex was having difficulty breathing. Damn, surely this couldn't be down to the Nirvanna, it was only a small score, it was party season and the Uptown dealers were asking too much.
Alex was dragged from his frantic thoughts by one of them speaking, he tried to concentrate, it was difficult to hear over the pounding of his heart. The one who was speaking was holding something in front of him, an SCL card, Alex noted the readout, 7c.
"H'nr Wn'klr, you are Junior Supervisor, Data Quality, Alex Crouchback.
"Yes.....sir", Alex thought the last addition advisable in the circumstances.
"It was your authorisation code on BPN 872-617-9999281."
"I'd have to check..."
"That was not a question. The BPN concerned a rogue militia man loose in Vermillion sector."
"A Veteran? Umm, yes, I remember it. Let me see, I'm just calling up the details, one minute, that's four nines two-eight-one, right? Yes, here we are, from what we could piece together someone, we're unsure who, went nutso on a return flight to Mort. War arms fire within the shuttle, some heavy ordinance took out the cockpit, shuttle crashed through three apartment blocks and two factories. But seemed like at least one of the men, a private Mulholland, survived, no sizeable body part recovered. And he now appears to be waging his own little war. We issued a Black BPN, reference as stated, and it was accepted by "Impending Doom", a four man squad consisting of ...oh my god, now wait a minute.. he accepted a Black that carries the statutory contractual agreements and disclaimers. This department and it's employees can in no way be held responsible or liable, IN ANY WAY, for his death....."
Three of the Shaktar hissed between clenched teeth at him, shaking their heads so their, umm, hair-tentacle things flared out like a halo. To Alex that didn't seem good. The Cloak sponsored one stepped forward and spread his arms at them as if to embrace them. They turned away from Alex towards their would be embracer and bared their teeth and snarled loudly, this didn't seem a whole lot better.
H'nr Wn'klr continued.
"Forgive me but we do not seek to assign blame, none is required for a warriors death in service, to suggest otherwise would suggest that he died a meaningless death. No do not apologise. But his death has left unfinished business, and such an unfinished task will remain with his and weight down his soul so that he might not take the One Step."
"Umm, sorry I don't understand"
"He accepted a task and may not pass on until it is completed"
"Umm, I'm sorry to break this to you but he is dead. Mulholland keeps making encountered pulse transmissions to report in to High Command, and he was quite descriptive about...." Alex shut up as the hissing started again.
"Again a misunderstanding, he will not be considered dead by our society until the matter is finished. He is alive to us all, he will still receive food at family gatherings, receive a room in our houses, be allowed a voice in council."
"Oh right. I'm really sorry but what has this to do with me?"
"Because you have issued the BPN and we as the male members of his family are here to complete it, for our victory will be his victory."
Alex looked again at the female, perhaps telling them apart was more difficult than he thought. "Ur, look if you want to apply for the BPN I'll need details.."
"No we will not be taking this file, it is still issued to him, because he is not dead. You understand? Our actions are his actions. Our reward is his reward."
"But the bonus scheme will have to be..."
"The bonus scheme will be paid to his account..."
"But it's already been closed upon his...." More hissing.
"We do not seek the reward. It is a matter of family, of tradition."
"But I've never heard of it."
"There are many families who do not maintain all of the old ways, some have fallen into decline"
"It has been forbidden by those who need to hide behind a mystery"... cried out the younger Shaktar until the female quietened him.
"Forgive him, he takes his father's death hard."
"What did he...."
"The foolishness of youth, a misunderstanding of our history. There are times when a line must be drawn underneath a matter, when loss are cut and no more sacrifices sent to the slaughter. Where would our race be if one had accepted the task of clearing Thresher from the World of Progress or killing Digger and then the entire rest of the race followed him one by one to their deaths. The new life within SLA required slight amendments to our ways, but there are some of us who still feel their pull."
The Cloak Operative added "There are times when for the good of all an unsolved case should stay unsolved."
Alex wasn't about to argue. "Right so you want to kill this Veteran, for nothing, I'm sorry I meant for Rc'kst'n. Well I, umm, I can't see any problem with that, I'm sure that will be acceptable. I'll just print a copy of the files."
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