Confrontation

*Written by Turnipink*

Twenty minutes left on the clock. That was all that was left of Orochi’s shift that day as he sat behind his desk, smoking a cigarette. His chair turned towards the large window that looked over the sleepless streets of Mesamay. The twilight light casting a stark shadow over everything it touched. It truly was a beautiful sight. A nice way to end the day at the very least. That was until the lock jiggled. He would rise from his seat, straightening out his uniform as the door opened.

“You aren’t taking the next shift are you?” He asked as he eyed up the unusually tall Kurlak women who came through the door, holding back a grimace as he saw her severely injured left eye.

The woman scoffed, “I am surprised you don’t remember me, coordinator.” she replied as she pushed the door closed, locking it. “Why don’t you take a seat behind your desk, Orochi. We have something to ….discuss.”

He stood there for a moment, bewildered by the women in front of him. This would not last as soon anger welled up inside him. “Excuse me but do you understand who you are talking to? Ordering around? Wasting their time? I suggest-”

“I said sit!” She yelled as she stepped closer, pointing a pistol between his eyes. Silently, with a scowl plastered on his face, he raised his hands as he backed towards his chair, not daring to break eye contact with her.

“There, isn’t it so much easier when you do as you’re told? Maybe your track record would be better if you happened to do that more often,” The woman asked while she shoved the chairs in front of the desk out of the way, opting to sit on the desk instead. Reaching into the coat pocket of her uniform, she produced a tape recorder, placing it down on the desk in front of Orochi before running a finger over the buttons and then slowly pressing record with a click. “So, Coordinator Orochi, you manage various teams and their jobs for the UGPS, correct?”

“Yes, why are you asking me this? You have no-” Once again he was cut off as she placed the pistol in his line of sight.

“I suggest that you, Mr. Orochi, take a moment to realize this is not the time or place for backtalk. Now, let’s continue. When you manage these teams, is it true that you must also coordinate adequate equipment and supplies when managing teams sent to contract planets in the absence of adequate resources?”

“Y-yes?” he replied, showing a hint of confusion.

“Oh? So you are unsure? Is that what I am hearing from your puzzled response? Maybe you should tell me more, like the point of the skill assignment process, I am sure you know all about that too then.” The woman said with a smirk. Her grip on the weapon in her lap tightened.

He took a shaky breath as he was forced to stare into her piercing gaze. “Y-yes, the skill assignment process is for assigning the appropriate teams for a job. These skills are ranged on a scale of one to ten. Ten is the most proficient one can be in a skill.”

“Really? The most basic definition. What a shame. Even so, you can’t even follow that basic definition you just “enlightened” me with.” From her pocket came a stack of documents folded in half. “Do you remember assignment #04713? I’m sure you do. It was pretty unique when it came to jobs. Not everyday a second team needs to be sent because the first abandoned their post.”

His anger boiled over as he stood up, towering over her. “I can’t follow the basic definition? Are you crazy?” He roared, “Why does any of this matter? Why are you here? If you are upset about it, get over it. Get out. Go.” He pointed to the door of his office. All was quiet for a moment.

That silence was broken by what started as a quiet giggle that swelled into hysterical laughter. “You are such a fucking cad. Maybe you should remember harder about that assignment. About who you sent.” The woman stood on the desk, spreading her wings and she looked down upon him. Before Oroshi knew it, a swift knee to his chest sent him back into his office chair. “About how everything was handled. It was hell, Oroshi. Hell.”

He stared up at the beast before him complete terror. The woman's eye staring back down at him, reading his every move like an open book. His tight grip on armrests almost tearing the seams apart.

The woman threw the stack of papers in his lap. “Read.”

Slowly, he unfolded the papers, revealing that it was the profile for a young kurlak woman, aged 16. In large, red letters, “deceased” was stamped across the profile. Only one job was listed in her past assignments: #04713.

The woman sat down at the edge of the desk closest to Oroshi, plucking the papers out of his hands. “I am sure you have had a good enough look at them by now. Let’s see if anything was retained in that thick skull of yours.” She separated the last page from the stack and folded the rest tucking them into her coat pocket. “What was stamped in bright red letters across her profile?”

“W-what are you implying? You can't seriously be saying that this girl's death was my fault,” Stammered Orochi.

“Once again, not even putting two and two together. Astonishing really. I never knew someone could be this stupid. Take a look at who signed and notarized her contract for this job, dumbass.” She sneered as she shoved the separated page in his face. Sure enough, on the dotted line was Oroshi’s signature.

“B-but… But I never knew-”

“You never knew what? Knew she wasn’t qualified? Knew she just came out of training? All of that was clear as day. I wonder how many times you used that excuse. I sure as hell know this wasn't the first.” She hopped off the desk, the gun she held now pressed between his eyes. She shook with rage and stared directly into Oroshi’s eyes. “You failed at your job. You killed Irona. You sent her to that hell and took away everything. I bet someone like you... with your track record would say they could be easily replaced. Well guess what...”

The coordinator was frozen in fear, shaking in his seat. He was no longer listening as she screamed at him but rather saying a silent prayer in hopes Veer would undo his fate. That hope was snuffed out when the click of the hammer locking into place rang in his ears.

“Someone like you… someone like you can be just as easily replaced.“

*Bang*

The woman staggered back, catching herself on the desk. Reaching back with a bloody hand, she would press stop on the tape recorder. Sitting on the desk, taking a deep breath, looking at the body. Just for good measure, she would rip the covetted coordinator badge off of his uniform, throwing it to the corner of the room as she took her place back on the desk. Reaching into her pocket for a cigarette and lighter, quickly lighting it and taking a long drag. As she looked out the window, now splattered with the remains of a man, she couldn't help but sigh.

“What a shame, even in death he ruins a perfectly good sunset.”