Tales From Cassiopeia/The Wise Guy

## The Wise Guy

"**The Wise Guy**" is the first chapter and short story of Book One of the *Tales From Cassiopeia* anthology series. This first chapter was released privately on January 29, 2021 and publicly published to the site on May 23, 2022.

The story details a day in the life of Coronan mercenary Ignis Gaudiama, who lived on the station Solitude Plaza with his wife and daughter.

## Plot

The Cassiopeia Galaxy was an enormous place, with billions of worlds stretching across tens of thousands of light years. Worlds populated with dense cities were not at all a rare find, especially the closer one got to the galactic core. These cities were filled with life and densely populated with denizens whose ancestors came from all sorts of different parts of the galaxy. The urban lifestyle was not for everyone.

Neither was the life of a mercenary.

Ignis Gaudiama was skilled at his work. He took on jobs—most of them not officially sanctioned by the United Cassiopeian Republic—and got paid for completing them. His manner of work was the main concern. Ignis wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty on the clock, although he tries to avoid it if he can; that’s what he tells people, anyway. No one’s quite sure where he got his expert training from. While Ignis doesn’t keep his upbringing a total secret, he doesn’t necessarily advertise it either. No one asks him about it very often, and he likes it exactly that way.

His current job took him down to Shuumont City, one of the many cities on the cold ocean planet of Rhewddi. Rhewddi was the home of a FCSS military base in the 54th century, eventually turning into a home for nearly a billion over the course of several hundred years. But this history didn’t matter all too much for the shadier side of the Rhewddians cities, no. All they wanted was a good place to operate, far enough away from the Metropolis Sector that any noise they made wouldn’t attract UCR attention. Ignis’ job was to 'deal’ with one of these shaddier folks.

Shuumont had an intense heating grid, as did all Rhewddian cities, which was the biggest reason why its millions of citizens didn’t freeze to death from the planet’s frigid temperatures. Ignis only needed the black coat he often wore to work while he walked down the dimly lit city streets. For a major city, Ignis was surprised not to see much of anyone this late at night. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his own presence, or part of whatever he was tracking down—maybe even a bit of both, he wondered.

The intense blue flames that burned atop the Coronan’s head lit the path, maybe even moreso than the city lights at this hour. His client guided him to the inside of a tavern, still open when most others were not. “The Silent 'Morrow” was plastered above the front entrance in dim, neon lights. They flickered every now and then, perhaps some early insight on whoever ran the place. The metal door automatically opened as soon as he approached the tavern’s entrance. Ignis didn’t hesitate to step inside.

The Silent 'Morrow was like any other lowly tavern one would find in the more undesirable parts of cities across the galaxy; metallic, dimly lit, and dirty. Buzzing music played on the stereo that was in need of some repairs. Holographic screens hung against the grey walls of the tavern. Ignis wished he could take it all in under better circumstances.

Unfortunately for Ignis, all eyes were on him.

The tavern was filled with glares coming from people who looked ready for a fight. Bounty hunters, mercenaries, and other types of thieves and criminals observed Ignis’ every movement—some less discreetly than others. These criminals came in all different shapes and sizes, and not just human. Ignis fully acknowledged the looks he got as he made his way to the bar, and he didn’t flinch one bit. He simply assessed his surroundings, and carried on with the job.

“Excuse me,” the Coronan started, with a polite and relaxed manner of speaking. “I’m looking for a Gon Onash. Would you happen to know him?”

The bartender looked up at him, keeping the stern look on his face he had when Ignis arrived. He was much bigger than the blue-flamed Coronan, both in height and in overall size. He was a Walrakian missing one of his tusks, and it was hard imagining him ever smiling.

“Who’s asking?” he replied in a low, coarse voice.

“Just someone who wants to talk with the man.” Ignis smiled. The Walrakian didn’t return it.

“No one 'just talks' to Gon Onash, stranger,” the bartender protested. “You’re gonna have to give us something better than that.”

“*Us,* you say?” Ignis kept his smile, raising an eyebrow.

All eyes were still on him. He didn’t even have to turn around to know it.

“Right…” He let out a chuckle. “Might as well get a drink while I’m here.”

“I’m sure they have plenty of drinks next door, stranger.”

There were quiet snickers all around the room. It was clear to Ignis that he was going to have to push harder to get what he wanted.

“All I need is 5 minutes with the man, friend. Is that too much to-?”

Before Ignis could finish, a man came out from the door behind the bar and entered the room. All eyes were now on him, and all the snickers and smiles dropped completely. He had an enormous fur coat dyed black like his hair, contrasting against his deep red skin. Judging from the man’s long thin whiskers and piercing silver eyes, this was the Jaharian man that Ignis was looking for.

This was Gon Onash. Ignis knew from right away.

“He can come in the back with me, Motath.” Onash lit a cigar with a smug look on his face. “Doubt it’ll take long.”

Suddenly the eyes of the tavern patrons shifted back onto Ignis. This time, it was different. They weren’t looks of suspicion, but rather pity. Fear, almost. The Walrakian bartender, Motath, hesitated at first.

“Well you heard the man,” he told Ignis.

“But of course.” With a smile on his face, Ignis followed the shady Jaharian man behind the rest of the tavern and into a back room.

The small room was kept much cleaner than the rest of the tavern; expensive looking trinkets hung up against all four walls of the room made for noisy decoration. The skin of some furry animal most likely imported to Rhewddi acted as a thick rug. Gon Onash slowly took a seat against a fireplace. It burned like Ignis’ hair, only in deep red flames to match Onash’s complexion. Ignis didn’t find a seat for himself, nor did the Jaharian man offer one.

“So tell me,” Onash started, blowing away the smoke. “Who sent you?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say,” Ignis responded honestly. “Client discretion. I’m sure you know how it is.”

“You’d be right about that, firehead.” Onash chuckled. “But if they’re like anyone else, they wanted to *know* something.”

“That they did.”

“And they know my info has a *price.*”

Ignis tossed the man a sack of credits. There were a lot of them. Onash couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“I’m listening.”

“My client wants to know where they can find someone named Casha Dotrys.”

Ignis pulled out a small puck. It holographically projected the image of a human woman. She had long, red hair and pale skin. Her eyes were colored indigo like Ignis’ flames. Onash slowly nodded as he observed the portrait, which spun around slowly to get all angles of the woman’s head.

“Casha Dotrys, Casha Dotrys…” the Jaharian mumbled. “Ah, that’s right.”

“So you know of her whereabouts?”

“I know *everything,* firehead,” he proclaimed. “She’s on Kondelak.”

“Kondelak?” Ignis remarked, with a surprised look on his face. He seemed to recognize its name. “What would she be doing there?”

“Let’s just say my associates are, how you would say… Putting her to work. Those runestone veins can’t mine themselves.”

Onash snickered. Ignis didn’t return it.

“Her spouse sent you, didn’t they?” Onash kept his smug expression.

“Thank you for the information.”

As soon as Ignis turned around to leave, Onash stopped him, still sitting down on his excessively fancy chair.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a bit longer? We could use the extra hands in Shuumont.”

“Thank you, but I’m in no need of any further work.” He tried again to walk out the door. He was stopped, once again.

“Would *Bentoria* say the same?”

Ignis stopped completely. He stood perfectly still, saying nothing.

“Like I said, Ignis.” The Jaharian blew away more smoke. “I know *everything.*”

There was a silence in the room. Onash grinned. The fireplace kept burning as did Ignis. Onash thought he had everything in his hands now.

“You got two options, firehead,” Onash started. “You work for me, and I keep your personal life a secret from the rest of the underworld. Or? I make sure everyone in the entire *Central Expanse* knows about that Penumbrian you call-”

Onash never finished. Too engrossed in his own monologue and pride, Onash never noticed the blast that came his way until it was too late. Ignis’ blaster smoked from the shot. He wasted no time with Gon Onash. The Jaharian man lied back lifelessly on his fancy chair, a blast wound that went straight through his forehead. Ignis got what he needed, and that was enough.

When he left Gon’s office and returned to the main area of the Silent 'Morrow, the air was different. The people of the tavern—including Motath the bartender—stared at Ignis as he left. They all heard the shot. There were mixed emotions all around, but overall? There was *relief.* If these mercenaries and thieves had anything to worry about, Ignis took care of their one, big problem. And without another word, Ignis went back onto the dead city streets, and back into the cold.

Ignis made it back to his modest apartment back on Solitude Plaza just in time for dinner. When he opened the front door, he was immediately greeted with the smell of freshly-cooked meats and grains. His wife was waiting for him, a warm smile on her face. The tall Penumbrian woman held a big tray of something hot in her hands, which were equally as big.

“Welcome home, love,” she spoke. “How was work?”

“Ah, nothing too exciting, Bentoria,” he responded. He shared the same warm smile as his wife did. “What’s that wonderful smell?”

“Papa, papa!” A small child with vibrant, burning, purple hair ran up to Ignis’ leg. Ignis picked her up with a chuckle as she spoke. “Mama made po-flotski! It’s SO good!!”

“A recipe from great-grandpa,” Bentoria laughed. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“That it is.” Ignis lit up, happy to finally sit down with his family. “Thank you for the meal, B. I always appreciate what you do.”

“I can say the same.”

## Appearances

### Dramatis Personae

* **Ignis Gaudiama** - Coronan. Witty and dignified mercenary.
* **Gon Onash** - Jaharian. Information broker. The wise guy.
* **Motath** - Walrakian. Imposing bartender.
* **Bentoria Gaudiama** - Penumbrian. Strong and loving wife.
* **Effie Gaudiama** - Coronan-Penumbrian. Excitable daughter.

### Other Characters

* Casha Dotrys (Holographically pictured)
* Tess Dotrys (Mentioned only)

### Locations

* Cassiopeia Galaxy
	+ Central Expanse
		- Kaiseran Sector
			* Rhewddi
				+ Shuumont
					- Silent 'Morrow
		- Lanh Sector
			* Solitude Plaza
		- Kondelak (Mentioned only)

### Organizations and Titles

* Federation of Cassiopeian Star Systems (Mentioned only)
* United Cassiopeian Republic (Mentioned only)

### Sentient Species

* Coronan
* Human
* Jaharian
* Penumbrian
* Walrakian