Cheap white float-lights were flickering in the old warehouse, illuminating rows upon rows of merchandise, stacked on tall steel scaffolding. The Eco-board boxes, each recognizable by the QRR codes and the company logo, sat silently, as they are usually expected to do, bearing blind witness to the unnatural silence in the facility. At the very end of the building, perched upon a dedicated set of scaffolding, sat the prefab office, a drab grey cubicle that hosted the delocalized HQ of Kadmus Stores LLC. The door stood ajar, but the voices of the people inside could not be heard. Three tall figures were silhouetted by the top-of-the-line tabletop neoncaster which was illuminating the large ebony desk of the company’s minority shareholder. None of them were sitting in the overly decorated swiveling chair, which belonged, according to the obviously overpriced mother-of-pearl plaque, to one Lady Kadmia S. Eskiin, CEO, whereabouts currently unknown. The only other item on the desk, which was the focus of the preoccupied figures, was a cooting mass of slightly damp tentacles and membranes, no longer than 10 inches, with a tiny steel tube attached to one of its clawed feet. “A pidjin taigha?” said finally one of the three figures, the last to arrive to the meeting. She had an imposing presence, 6’10’’, muscled beyond the limits of what was common shasvastii decency and not even endowed with the common shame of covering those obscene deltoids up. The nametag on her blue, ill-fitting jacket, which would’ve distinguished her as a security guard for the warehouse, if she hadn’t ripped the sleeves off, bore the fake name “Jay T. Kathroat” “It’s unhackable” said the second figure with a defeated sigh. He was wearing the long coats of a mentor, his tagplate bearing the words of power: “HR manager” “It’s useless” said the third figure, his red skin and horns briefly highlighted by the nervous gesture of lighting his lho-stick and taking a long drag form it. “Coo” added the pidjin, shifting around with wet noises “Aintcha read the message inna steel tube, boss?” asked Jay in the most neutral tone she could muster, trying to make sure both of the other two would think she was talking to them, rather than the other one. “Nonolookit’swhopointlesssentit” Jay could instantly sense the hostility between the HR manager and Dukash after talking over eachother, but, to her relief, they did not start arguing as usual. To her surprise, Dukash just sat down on one of the cheaper chairs on the side of the office adding only “well? Why would you be worried about who sent it? We’re fighting a lost battle anyway” “It’s from the MAJORITY stakeholder, you irreverent coward” answered HR, almost whispering everything except for “majority”, “not to mention my third clone’s cousin twice re-egged” “Ba Fashas” said Jay matter-of-factly “Ba Fashas” confirmed HR, surreptitiously “Ba Fashas” spat Dukash contemptuously “Coo” added the Pidjin, for no particular reason The silence went on for a few moments more before Jay decided to just stomp her way to the pidjin and grab the steel tube. She could feel the stare of her two superiors fixated on her hands. Or maybe her arms. She knew what she had. With a slightly exaggerated gesture, long practiced for the express purpose of briefly flashing her triceps, she popped the tube open, extracted the Polymer Parchment and unrolled it, revealing the thin scratches of a Managerial Cypher.

“yeah, this be above me paygrade boss” she said almost immediately, delicately putting the Parchment down on the desk. HR and Dukash carefully got closer and looked over her broad shoulders, being super extra careful not to accidentally touch them. “Coo” added the Pidjin, flapping its way out of the same window it came in from and disappearing in the warehouse rafters. The silence continued for a long while, the only noise being the creaking of the desk when Jay put her elbows on it, waiting for her managers to translate the instructions of their direct superior. “What do you think he means by -Sheskiin was sighted at the hexadrome-? Does he mean the actual sheskiin?” “Did you forget how to translate Man-Cyph, you N’Dulsha? It says there is a human clone of sheskiin at the hexadrome!” “wouldn’t that be a clone of Achilles then?” “Achilles doesn’t have tits” “How do you know the clone has tits?” “Sheskiin has them hasn’t she?” “But you just said it’s not actually her there” “Yeah but her genetic code is” “Achilles genetic code you mean” “She got both Achilles’ and her own, you Dooblah” “We shasvastii do not have tits, and I would appreciate if you stopped insulting me” “I like Achilles” Said Jay “so swishy and swashy”. Dukash and HR, who had gotten closer to each other while talking, suddenly jumped back, acutely aware of the fact that they were using Jay’s rippling arms as perches during their altercation. “So what our mission be?” asked Jay “Kill Achilles?” “O-our mission?” managed Dukash, recovering from the embarrassment “your mission you mean. I have no intention of going out there, you read the Man-Cyph, there’s gonna be JSA forces, and I have had my fill of those suicidal psychopaths” HR could not let a word out before Dukash stormed out of the prefab, his steps, descending the metal staircase, echoing in the empty warehouse. “Our mission” said HR flatly “is to kidnap the clone of sheskiin and bring her back here for packaging, then inform Ba Fashas of the result. He will take FCA delivery Incoterms” “And JSA? Is we allowed to kill them all?” HR tried to look at the Jayith’s face with a disapproving stare, but he couldn’t manage a serious pose while at the same time keeping her massive arms out of his LoF, so he opted for retreat. He turned around, clasping his hands behind his back, looking outside the main window at the seemingly endlessly long rows of scaffolding of the warehouse. “Just grab anyone we have on shift, Jay, and bring them here for a… uhm… team-building exercise. Be quick, we don’t have much time” The answer came as a soft sound from the rafters above: “Coo”