In spite of how things had progressed that day, Merle was relieved when he set foot in the bar and escaped the torrential downpour. A swift scan of the establishment suggested that the evening rush had yet to begin, and that aside from the irritating squeak of some statically-charged yellow rodent prancing and dancing on one patron's table, he would be able to seethe with impotent rage in relative silence.
The information his people had gathered on the Coredians and their eccentricities had not prepared him for the reality. Freaky bastards, one and all. But in one way they had a common trait with the other governments he had attempted to speak to: After hearing his story, they had all but laughed him off the stand. He would have thought by at least the fifth time somebody would have taken him seriously, and that of all the people he spoke to it would be the Coredians that might take notice of the implications, but the memory of a mortal is short indeed when measured against the centuries.
He took a seat in an isolated corner of the bar, far removed from the insipid gesticulations of the nauseatingly cute little dynamo. A waitress who might have been considered cute by the standards of her own species materialized at his side and he asked if the bar had any of his favorite brandy in stock. It was a widely traded drink throughout this arm of the galaxy, so he was at the same time surprised and not at all surprised when he learned that they did not carry that particular brand. The waitress suggested that there was another brandy that could do the trick if they dropped a cinnamon stick in it. Bereft of secondary options, he accepted her suggestion and was surprised that the cobbled beverage was damn near indistinguishable from the other drink. He even had a makeshift stirring rod.
Figured. These people would know their 'herbs'. He nursed his drink and puttered about with his datapad while other patrons made their way into the bar. Persistence would win through, but he was running low on money. Pretty soon he would have to return to what was left of his own people and report that even in the face of what had happened to them, nobody cared.
The seven systems of the Scorianth Confederacy may have been a backwater area, but it was a backwater that once had a population of thirty billion, and nobody cared.
Truth be told, he was torn between laughing and crying at the whole situation. Sure that either outburst would be as fruitless as his entreaties to the other six governments he had spoken to, he took another drink and winced in displeasure as a gleeful screech reached his ears, the result of that yellow rodent being presented with yet another of its favorite treats.
In his displeasure, his eyes closed but a moment. When they opened again, a cloaked and hooded figure stood by his table. He stood such that he could not see the newcomer's face, or make out much else about him aside from the fact that he was short but remarkably broad shouldered.
"Whaddya want?" Merle asked testily. His was not a particularly friendly form of drunk, though he still had a long way to go yet.
"Care if I sit here?" The newcomer's voice was surprisingly pleasant, and possessed of an accent he could not identify.
"Plenty of empty booths. What's so special about this one?"
"You."
That rattled him. He stared at the newcomer with a new focus, trying to recall if he had met this man somewhere. "Who..."
"Unimportant, though you may call me Sirzan. Drinks are on me, if you should care to grace me with a story or two."
Somewhat thrown by the attention and calm demeanor of the man who called himself Sirzan, he gestured to the other seat. "You with the government?"
"No, but I was present at your hearing. Their reaction was... unjust, to say the least."
"Spat on the graves of women and children, they did."
"A succinct and effective analogy."
Merle shook his head, clearing the cobwebs from his head. "Enough of that, what do you want? If you were at the hearing, you heard my story."
"And I know that hearing is the reason you are here now drowning your sorrows in a passable facsimile of Correllian brandy. Your plea may have fallen upon deaf or dumb ears-- who can tell these days, am I right?-- but that does not discount the possibility of an interested party being present on the side."
"And you are one of them 'interested parties'?"
"A representative, yes. I would like to know more about the assault that so thoroughly devastated your people. Such a terrible subject though it might be to discuss over drinks." The waitress appeared the same way Sirzan had, and disappeared once the hooded man made his order. People around here seemed to enjoy sneaking up on people. Creepers. "I feel for your loss. To witness the destruction of one's homeworld is... an experience few can truly understand."
A beer with a straw drifted into Merle's field of view as he gave the hooded man a speculative look. "So what do you want to know? You heard my testimony, I don't know what else you want me to say."
"You never said who committed this crime."
"I don't know. They didn't have markings on their ships."
"You must have suspicions."
"I... do... but I found through hard experience that my suspicion was best left unsaid."
"No harm can come of it now. It is of interest to us."
"They would have laughed me out even faster... but you're right. I've already been shooed away like a stray animal. What harm can there be? I didn't see any markings on their ships, but if I were to trust my suspicions, I'd say it was Godulans."
"Godulans? But they've been gone for decades, maybe centuries!"
"Our worlds were close enough that we had detailed information about their vessels. Though our worlds were devastated from afar, as our forces were chased out of Scoria Prime we were lucky enough to catch one of the black ships in profile against our burning world."
He handed Sirzan his datapad and pressed a couple buttons, bringing up the picture he described. "The vessel is heavily modified, these protrusions here and here, I don't know what those are... but the vessel's frame, I remember that from my studies. That's a Godulan Mako."
"Why would Godulans do this though? They abhorred such slaughters."
"And yet their Kython ships had such pleasant names as 'Slaughterkings', 'Deathlords', and 'Slaughterstars'. Still, they never bothered us and seemed content to keep to themselves. Then, after that Tenetia debacle so long ago, they just... vanished. Nobody even knows what happened to their star systems! So calling my story far-fetched is putting it lightly now. An entire people, wiped out by space-ghosts! Who could take that seriously?"
Sirzan took a sip of his beer through his straw, careful not to move his hood overmuch. "We do, dear friend. We take it quite seriously."
His other hand lashed out and caught Merle's hand in a grip as strong as iron and just as cold. Merle tried to pull away, but found himself paralyzed when the hood came up just enough to reveal a pair of eyes glowing a sickly green. "No... I don't understand... what..."
"You have provided us with a remarkably clear window into the politics of this galaxy. Such loss and war as the destruction of even a few worlds warrants little notice."
Merle could only stammer as the significance of the green eyes and what Sirzan was saying fell into place. "Why did you do it? We did nothing to you."
"You existed. For the purposes of our mistress, that is enough. For what little it may be worth to you, it was nothing personal."
"Are you going to kill me?"
"Yes. Rejoice, for in your death, your wish shall be granted. Others will pay attention. They will know of the passing of the Scorianth Confederacy. They will understand."
The pain of the Godulan's grip was unbearable, yet Merle couldn't flinch against that unwavering glare. The eyes began to glow more brightly and then, at the very end, the glare wavered --as if something within had disconnected-- and he heard two last strangled words from the Godulan, loud enough to be heard across the bar:
"Help. Us."
An instant of pain and a sense of billions of slashing knives, and nothing more. The shatterspace anomaly was merciful, that way.
, Edifice, Elemental Nations of Coredia, Milky Way Galaxy, That Strange, Wondrous and Heartrending Corner of the Universe