Matriarch Framed

Posted on Tue Jun 30th, 2020 @ 9:12pm by Bomoor Thort & Thane & Amare
Edited on on Tue Aug 4th, 2020 @ 9:48pm

2,564 words; about a 13 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Mooko City, Öetrago
Timeline: Two months after "Just Business"

OLD

Not waiting for any further response, the dark-skinned businessman trotted away from Bruta and the table, his Toydarian ally hovering alongside him.

Bruta scowled slightly as he focused on Unger's back as he walked away. Some primal part of him wanted to charge after him with his full weight and mow him down as the pre-historic members of his species would have done to defeat an opposing herd. But the weight of his civility and intelligence kept him in his seat.

So, the enemy now has a face and a name, he thought, Wowron Unger and Ondo Mog of Öetragro. Or, in other words, more puppets of GalataWerks. They must not succeed.

NEW

Jiljoo leant against the uncomfortable permacrete wall, restlessly fidgeting with the strap of her satchel. She did not like waiting, but she also trusted Mother Mozo enough not to disobey her orders. More recently there had been a lot more waiting. While at first, the battle against the various dummy GalactaWerks companies had been an action-packed ride of espionage, with the occasional fistfight, the rise of the more-legitimate ÖetraGrow corporation had meant their band of anti-capitalist Öetragan fighters had been more-or-less left powerless, now having to defend themselves to the Civus Herd government after accusations of illegal activity were levied against them from their new number one enemy: Wowron Unger.

She thought back over the last couple of months. Once the amusing Doctor Buhggs had agreed to aid their cause, his expertise and knowledge allowed them to follow several new leads suggesting additional infiltration into Mother’s Aid’s organisation. Along with Diplomat Thort’s own involvement it felt as though their cause was officially sanctioned in all but name and the young Twi’lek mechanic never gave the legality of their actions a second thought. However, that all changed after they began targeting ÖetraGrow.

While the supposedly Öetragan-oriented business claimed that their negotiations for buying a share in M’s Aid’s business ventures were still ongoing, Dr Buhggs had informed Mumin and the team that new secretive construction projects were already underway and he was being ousted out of his position on the several high-level projects, which he feared were being handed over to ÖetraGrow. Dr Buhggs had been furious, having been responsible for several breakthroughs that would now no longer be attributed to him. His hopes of this work catapulting him into political success were rapidly collapsing beneath him and Jiljoo had seen the despair in the usually-cynical reptilian man when he had last contacted them. She clenched her fist tightly around her strap in anger at the thought of it all.

Captain Senob had transported Jiljoo and Llim out to an aquatic lab in the ocean just South of Übal, where construction was taking place on a new water treatment station, now being overseen by ÖetraGrow. However, they had not been docked for 20 minutes before a huge explosion went off in the facility. Fortunately, neither Jiljoo nor Llim were caught in the blast, but they had to abandon the site before discovering any evidence of the company’s intentions. When they returned to the mainland, they found themselves being accused of sabotaging the station after evidence emerged that charges had been set around the site’s main power core.

Now, Jiljoo could only wait and Mumin answered questions on her behalf in this dingy unnatural corner of Mooko city. She never imagined her first trip to the city being as a suspected criminal and Mother Mozo had been trying so hard to shield her from the reality of the situation but that just made her feel worse as though she had brought shame upon the Herd of Elenca.

"Miss Jiljoo!" Came the effusive voice of Yllib-Senob, altogether too loudly and too obviously as he bimbled up to the other alien that had come to name Öetrago as their adopted home, now all fighting for its sovereignty from GalactaWerks.

His head was bobbing up and down as his small frame half-jumped over to her, drawing the occasional glance from a few more conservative, and predominantly Ithorian, passersby. He paid them no mind, as was his nature, but he wore none of his usual cheerful mien as he finally reached the woman. A hand was clutching his ill-fitting and small tricorn hat upon his head, and sweat was beading in all quarters of the orange-skinned man.

"I... I got... phew," he blew some air from his upside-down Ongree face and leant over a little, catching his breath. "I'll... I'm-ma okay," he assured her unnecessarily, as Llim could be seen carefully pacing up from behind him, not making the same mistake as the overzealous sailor. "Doctor Buhggs..." he managed, taking his hat off to wipe the top of his small head, "he... he... Oh my." He coughed a little. "Mercenaries," he finally said, as Llim now came to stand beside them. "They're using mercenaries, Miss Jiljoo. Offworld sorts. GW sorts." He leaned in a little closer, giving his best impression of a knowing expression. "Demolitions sorts."

Llim--ever the craven sheltered person that he was--had allowed his eyes to widen with terror at the forthcoming news. Still discombobulated by the explosion at the sealab, knowing that it was just luck that he and Jiljoo survived, stammered, "Ar-are they h-here? Right now? How many? What did they look like? Should we run? Jiljoo, we're not safe here anymore...or anywhere! Maybe we should go."

"Hold on Llim," the green-skinned Twi'lek gave a weak smile to the Ithorian, "I don't think we are in any danger yet. We 'av been framed so we need to be around to take ze' fall."

She tightened up a strap on her rugged overalls as she pondered, as the two men watched her, as though awaiting instruction, "Of course, it would make sense for Werks to use hired help. Zat' way there is less of a trail back to zem'... unless we can prove it."

Her smile warmed some more and she turned to the captain with a glint in her eye, "What else do you know about 'zese 'Demolitions sorts'?"

The Ongree's upturned eyes twisted from Jiljoo to Llim and back again. His little tongue came out and licked at his near-lipless mouth, looking to be in deep thought about how to articulate what he had discovered. "They were headed up by some.... some... robot devil!" He finally exclaimed, having struggled to find the right description. He adjusted his seafaring garb nervously, eyes looking out around them still. "A Dev, methinks, but most of him was made up in metal - he was leading them! They're the ones that have been setting these explosives. He's the one that set us up for ze' fall!"

There was an innocuous noise in the distance, impossible to attribute to anything, but Yllib-Senob jumped, eyes wide as he scanned the horizons, holding his little tricorn as though it might fly away in his panic. "From what old Buhggs was tellin' me, Miss Jiljoo, I'd say the matriarch is next - they're comin' for us!"

Llim placed a big warm hand on Jiljoo's shoulder and said as calmly as his shaken nerves would allow, "I admire your bravery through all of this, I really do, but the Humans have a maxim: 'discretion is the better part of valour'. I have to insist that we make tracks and go while we still can. We're not heroes. We can't stop bad guys armed with explosives."

Yllib-Senob's expression was aghast, but also troubled. His eyes flicked this way and that and his face wobbled a little, somewhere between panic, confusion and frustration. "What?" He finally declared, shoving Llim back a little with an open palm, a decidedly physical expression from the usually-reserved Ongree would-be sailor. "This is our home, Llim!"

Jiljoo turned a frown towards Llim, "You can run if you want, Llim," she spoke with a firm clarity that paved across her usual jovial nature, "But you may not have a home to come back to if you don't take a stand right now. Did you not hear what Yllib says: Mother Mozo is in danger from ziz' mechanised man."

Rather than protest, Llim curled his head down in shame, both mouths on the sides of his hump sighing in stereo. The words, we're doomed, had come to mind, but he didn't want Jiljoo to lose any more respect for him than she already might have. His Twi'lek crush and recent partner in crime (for a good cause!) was right. Jiljoo needed her big Ithorian friend to put on a brave face and do what was right. There was no turning back when everyone counted on each other in a crisis.

The Twi'Lek paused and took hold of her own mechanical appendage, squeezing it as though it caused her pain, "I have heard of many part-synthetics who hide behind their machine-parts as a way to deny their emotions. They can be dangerous, ruthless people. But I think zey' secretly hate themselves the most. We must not let..."

She was interrupted as a set of durasteel gates squeaked open a short distance along and the familiar, but weary form of Mumin Mozo slid out from the courtyard beyond. She did not look to them immediately, rather pacing forwards and bracing herself against a lamppost, seeming as though the weight of the world was upon her.

"Mother Mozo!" Jiljoo broke off from their little gathering and rushed over to the Ithorian woman's side, with the others jogging along behind her, "What iz' it? What did zey' say?"

"Oh, my dear girl," Mumin's voice faintly echoed along the dry permacrete alleyway, "We're certainly in a real mess now. They couldn't tie the explosives to any of you but they still feel our group was at least partly responsible for the damage done. Looks as though the Civus Herd does not like the thought of a 'political agitator' being a respected Herd leader. They have asked me to step down from my position leading the Elenca."

"That's absurd!" Llim spoke up, stunned with the revelation. "How could they demand you do such a thing when you've done nothing wrong?"

"But..." Yllib-Senob's upturned mouth opened, little teeth exposed as he struggled to find words to express his dismay at the news. "But... you're the matriarch!" He protected, voice matching Llim's, their recent and brief disagreement all but forgotten. "You're the heart of the herd - of this world's spirit! Bounders!" He cast his gaze back to where Mumin had come from and raised a little fist up at it. "You're all bounders, curled up in Werks' deep pockets!"

Mumin raised a weary hand and brought Yllib’s fist down, “Don’t add fuel to the fire, dear captain,” the motherly figure warned, “The authorities have been persuaded, by one means or another, to view us as a radical rebel group and I should have realised operating outside the law would lead us here. I should have trusted more in Bruta’s approach and not been arrogant enough to believe we alone could change the tide.”

“But Mother Mozo!” cried Jiljoo, “You do have authority. You are ze’ wize leader of the Elenca. Why does Civus dictate your power? Patriarch Gobb should be your equal.”

“Symbolically, yes…” Mumin nodded slowly, “But most Ithorians don’t care for government and bureaucracy and the first settlers here were happy to delegate that power to Civus in exchange for their land and freedoms. In fact, old Brumo quoted me this clause from part of the original Judicial treaty stating that ‘Any Herd leader could be required to stand down should they threaten the safety of Öetrago’s population through their continued action.’”

“But it wasn’t you!” the Twi’Lek was struggling to take enough breaths under the weight of her outrage, “Yllib says it was a Devaronian Cyborg zat’ planted that explosive. Tell her captain!”

Yllib-Senob looked ready to leap to the matriarch's defence, supporting his Twi'lek companion, but the words looked to get caught in his orange throat, and he sunk into himself a little. He kicked the dirt of the ground a little sheepishly, both worried and embarrassed in his mien.

"They said it was a cyborg," he admitted, defeat punctuating his tone. "A devil made real."

The bluster from a few minutes before had been consumed by this darker mood, brought about by Mumin's legalistic explanations. The Ongree was known to be a man of simple tastes and ideas; to be confronted with such alarming legal and philosophical discussion had stymied his confidence. But then, just as quickly, he rediscovered his voice.

"We are isolated," he observed, sad and worried. "They've made us more alone than ever." Yllib-Senob shuffled, eyes getting wider. "I don't think we should stay here. We should get back. As quickly as we can! There are no friends here... just cruelty, and cretins with long blades hidden in their sleeves."

Mumin softened her gaze, seemingly unable to watch the man wrestle with such thoughts and brought out a comforting hand to rest upon his shoulder, "We have been dealt the first real blow, Captain. But it has brought our enemies into sharper focus and we must not let fear turn us away from the truth."

She raised her head and looked across the city; still magnificent in its own way, but a symbol of the oppressive power of the Civus heard, now tainted by the otherworldly corporate presence of GalataWerks and whatever 'devil' was now aiding them.

"We shall go for now and gather ourselves back on the continent," the motherly Ithorian continued, "I have the matter of my transition to settle with the Herd, which shall not be easy but, in some ways, I will no longer have to worry about my actions reflecting on the Elenca people."

Eyeing the younger Ithorian, Mumin added, "Llim, I will need you to return to Diplomat Thort and report on what has happened here and what you have learned about this cyborg. He told me he has connections that are no friend of GalactaWerks and now is the time to use them."

Llim bowed his head in acquiescence to Mumin's request. "Of course. I am happy to help," he answered. "Jiljoo," he started to ask his Twi'lek friend, "shall we go together?"

The green-skinned woman flashed him a little smile before shaking her head, "I think I should help sort out things with ze' herd," she spoke without her usual flair and enthusiasm but with the same kindness, not unlike Mumin, "Elenca has been my family too and I must decide if I want to still follow zem' without Mother Mozo."

Mumin looked over her three companions with a warm glow, "You have all been so very faithful. A Herd is a group you place your faith in; a people you would fight for because it represents the values you wish to uphold. Perhaps more from Elenca will join us, but they must not get involved in a cause they did not sign up for. In many ways, we have already begun our own new Herd amongst ourselves and, if we all do our part, then Öetrago will surely continue to be free."

TBC

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