The Duty of a Vigilant Protector

Written by Adam Mullen, with art by Marcelo Millicay and Mike Lombardo, and edited by Ted Kendrick.

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On most days, Corrina enjoyed her line of work. Today was not one of those days. Corrina was sure her cloak was ruined from the shato stench of the Lumo Station. The heat from the artificial environment beamed down on her which made the stench much more potent. The heat was enough to make her miss the cold winds from her home world of Boreas. 

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She watched as Yellow Eyes walked away from her, down one of the station’s questionably safe alleyways, disappearing as quickly as he appeared. A Kestrian merchant pointed her in the direction of a pair of yellow eyes which turned out to belong to a whoomp chuck of all things, but that was to be expected when the only descriptor for her contact was eye color. The whoomp chuck was more polite than the figure that walked away from her now.

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Corrina was trained to discern her surroundings, including subtle details about anyone in her radius. Though Corrina was unable to see his face, Yellow Eyes radiated with anger and loneliness. Most people on the station had similar emotions, but this was something different. Now that their transaction was complete, Corrina decided not to concern herself with the shady figure any further. “Flepper,” Corrina said aloud. 

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She had what she came for: the coordinates that would make her superiors extremely happy. Now she needed to depart from the station without any surprises. That’s all that mattered right now. In her line of work, Corrina became accustomed to surprises. ‘Expect the unexpected’ was the motto she told herself every time she embarked on a new assignment. 

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With the data slip in hand, Corrina made her way back to the merchant stands. She avoided the Kestrian merchant who pointed her in the wrong direction of Yellow Eyes. Corrina realized it was some time since she last had a bite to eat. The stench of death all around nearly made her want to hurl whatever remained of her last meal, but she needed to remain at peak condition in case she had to defend herself. Could she even trust the food on this station? She decided her best bet at a safe meal was the Zaknoth bistro stand.

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Corrina looked at the menu and after a moment to decide what she wanted, she ordered. “I’ll take the Daily Special.” The Zaknoth grunted, and handed Corrina a bowl of soup. 

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After taking her meal, Corrina thanked the Zaknoth. With a savory soup in hand, she took a spoonful. It tasted similar to a soup she once tried at Zohla’s Cafe on Dayton Station a few years back. She glanced at the name of the bistro and confirmed her suspicions. The name, printed in Universal-Standard, was Zohla’s Bistro. Nodding to the Zaknoth, she said, “Good soup.” The Zaknoth grunted in approval. Corrina turned to look for a quiet place to sit and enjoy her meal. 

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From across the promenade, someone caught her eye. It was the piece of shato that bothered her earlier. Corrina found it ironic that the same bistro she purchased her meal was the same place where this diminutive man with a green tuft of hair forcibly stopped her to offer a discount on whatever it was he was trying to sell her. Corrina knew a scam when she saw one. 

Corrina watched as the conman withdrew a gun on a much taller man with grey skin. As much as she would like to break the man’s neck, even after already snapping his arm, she wanted to eat first. Plus, it wasn’t her duty to save everyone who found themselves on the other side of a gun barrel. “Poor sap,” Corrina thought. 

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She began to put a second spoonful of soup into mouth when she heard a voice. “Save him.” This gave Corrina pause. She looked around, but no one seemed to be talking to her. She continued to consume her meal. “You must save him, Corrina Sing.”

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Corrina wasn’t sure why, but she felt the sudden urge to put down her spoon. No longer feeling the desire to eat, she put down her spoon and sat up from her chair. She watched as the diminutive man made the towering man move to a nearby alleyway at gunpoint. Corrina followed them. As she approached the alleyway, she heard their conversation. 

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“Maybe I should turn you over to the Imperium,” said the smaller man, a wide grin on his face. “I bet they’d pay well for you.” 

It was all Corrina needed to hear. “You’re about to beg me for a jail cell.” Corrina lept into action, kicking the smaller man, knocking his weapon away. “It’s shato like you that make me hate my job.”

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With a crunch, she snapped the man’s neck, and killed him. The taller man was taken by surprise. “Why did you do that?!” Corrina wondered the same, but she was simply compelled.

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Corrina heard the voice in her mind again. “Protect him.” Corrina now felt the sudden urge to protect this man, whatever the cost. She looked at the man’s shirt. She saw an identifier on it: Z-IV. 

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Her job could wait. She needed to remain vigilant in her new duty to protect Z-IV, even though she did not fully understand why. She was trained to discern her surroundings, and the details at hand told her to trust her instincts. Corrina would one day regret that decision.

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