Breakfast in Bedlam/Chapters 5-6

Chapter 5
Then

Gands were easy to kill. The short stature and ubiquitous breathing apparatus made them suitable targets. Grab them from behind and cut off their air supply until they suffocate. As long as they were caught by surprise, they went down rather quickly. Some would try to hold their breath, only prolonging the inevitable. They would succumb eventually, however, losing consciousness and allowing Pepan to finish the job with a snapping twist of the head. He preferred to kill them quickly, as the amount of lactic acid that would build up in the meat from lack of air would be considerably lower and thereby leaving the flesh in a more palatable condition. Though, Gands required more preparation prior to serving. The ammonia they breathed collected in the soft inner flesh, giving them the pungent smell and flavor of refresher cleaner. Thus, Pepan was carefully selecting the ingredients for an overnight marinade. Pepan glanced at the carcass on his workbench, stripped and washed, the limbs having been removed and stored away earlier. This one had decided to stay late at an office building in an affluent financial district before stupidly taking a short cut through a dark alley between two speeder parking decks. Pepan shadowed the Gand then grabbed it around the neck, applying clamps to the air hoses. It took a few moments to suffocate, Pepan restraining its arms and disconnecting the close-range audio unit built into the breath mask so that his prey could not scream. Its death throes reduced to a series of clicks and hisses, the Gand went down quietly. Pepan then stuffed the short body into a duffel and took it home. The belongings and breath mask were tossed in a barrel situated by the entry way. Those items will be dumped down a freighter shaft later. One of the benefits of living on Coruscant, Pepan decided, was the ease of garbage disposal. He had originally left his home planet of Kubindi on the encouragement of his friends and family to seek culinary fame at one of the galaxy's finest cooking schools. He had become something of a local legend in the student-run restaurant, his artful presentation and skill earning him the chance to enter into a regional cooking competition. Only, that vermin that claims to have an experienced palate denounced Pepan's dish. The only way such a creature would have good taste were for it to be served in a stew. His snout curled in satisfaction. Calliandro's kitchens had a new secret ingredient after his expulsion. Good eats indeed. Pepan measured and mixed the marinade, a strong acidic pepper aroma wafting from the large bowl. The meat had been scraped from the strong carapace earlier, rinsed thoroughly, brined with a wet cure, and placed on napkins to soak up any excess water. The brine had reduced the amount of ammonia to an extent, the marinade will ensure that the meat would be tender and flavorful. Pepan's mouth began to water at the thought of the masterpiece he would create the next morning. His resiplex would be saturated with the delectable aroma for weeks afterward. Putting the meat into the marinade, he stirred it to ensure even distribution, then covered the dish and put it into the conservator to soak overnight. Pausing to wash the brine marinade off his hands, Pepan crossed the room and turned on the holo-proj for some background noise while he finished processing his game. Unlike most insectoids, Gands could not be permitted to sit overnight without refrigeration as the soft meat would degrade due to the ammonia content. The smell would attach itself to Pepan's clothing.

"--outside the district courthouse in Hirkenglade. The court heard testimony from the defendant and several high-profile witnesses concerning the allegations..." Apparently there were other more pressing goings-on in the area, Pepan surmised. At least this time the local news was reporting on a race with a back bone. A better use of the time. Pepan shrugged, sawing through the durable exoskeleton, his focus drifting away from the holo-proj and to his work. That sharp acrid stench once again permeated from the body, stinging his sensitive snout. How horrible the smell! Like the strong cleaning chemicals he used at his custodial job, only magnified and coupled with the sour odor of death. The sooner the meat was processed, brined, and packed away, the better. Pepan shrugged again. Such is the price you pay for what amounts to easy game. The unique flavor of the meat, almost marine in texture, was well worth the extra preparation. He could not get such interesting and exquisite taste from just any species. Perhaps the secret to the delicate undertones lay in the level of ammonia saturation... "--of the testimonies was the one given by Zuckuss, the bounty hunter who assisted in apprehending the suspect..." The movement of Pepan's hands stopped as his attention was seized. He knew of Zuckuss, one of the so-called "Executor Six." It was hard to find a being that wasn't aware of that Gand. How such an ugly, pesky creature could ascend to such heights of notoriety infuriated Pepan. The chubby little grub bore a striking resemblance more to the vermin he's crushed underfoot than to a lawless mercenary. It was criminal, the media coverage that was wasted on this insect. Like a maggot being lauded for devouring roadkill. And the profession, bounty hunting, garnering so much undue attention from the naive population. The scum of the universe. They had no marketable skills, nothing that would secure any type of profitable and socially-acceptable career, so they sell their services to the highest bidder. Essentially blaster-toting prostitutes. And yet, the youth of the galaxy directed their unwavering admiration toward these reckless scoundrels, the media's spotlights focused sharply as well. Pepan looked down at the body on the workbench, then returned his gaze to the holo-proj. As much as he despised Zuckuss and his undeserved reputation, he couldn't help but wonder just what that well-traveled creature would taste like. Tired and stringy, no doubt, the Gand had seen quite a bit of action. Though, with the right seasoning and properly tenderized, the meat could just as well be as succulent as the flesh that Pepan was tirelessly scraping free from the carapace. The high-profile nature of Zuckuss's lifestyle would most certainly be a factor, Pepan had noticed a jump in the quality of the meat compared to his vagrant prey. Perhaps, one day, he would get his chance to feast on the creature perched near the top of the social food chain. After all, Gands were quite easy to kill.

Chapter 6
Now

"--Alright, well I'd better go before they cut my comm privileges. Mm-hm.  Alright, you take it easy, I'll see you soon.  Mm-hm.  I love you, too.  Buh-bye." Cami Sookanado closed the connection with a deep sigh. With a nod to the corrections officer, she stood and followed her escorts out of the room. The walk back to the cell block seemed longer, her thoughts centered on her son. It had been a few weeks since she's seen him last, the Department of Corrections only permitted infrequent visits once or twice a month. It was one of the drawbacks with her particular cell block. Cami was housed in the mental observation unit in Bedlam. It was a co-ed mixed population of prisoners all sharing a common characteristic&mdash; mental illness. The charges that sentenced them varied, but competency hearings determined them all to be not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect and sentenced to a period of psychiatric observation. Cami's parole violation was determined to be a memory lapse stemming from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, sufficiently covering up the initial communication breakdown between her and her caseworkers. Her stay was to be temporary, at least compared to the inmates who were there indefinitely; the lifers. Most of those inmates were labeled as being dangerous to themselves and others, effectively curtailing any possibility of release. The drab white walls, the bars, the officers, meager meals, and combative inmates were to become the only things they would know for however long their various lifespans were. Aside from the gender mix of the population, the only thing that separated the cell block from the rest of the prison was the strict medication regimen. "Just in time to take your feel-goods," one of the corrections officers remarked. Without another word, Cami was led to the nurse's station and handed a small cup full of pills. Cami counted the pills, then swallowed them down with a gulp of water. Opening her mouth to prove to the nurse that she was not cheeking her medicine, Cami took another drink of water, handed the cup back, and wandered across the room to gaze out of a small window. It had begun to snow outside, the fluffy white flakes drifting lazily to the ground. Some years ago, the Coruscant WeatherNet decided to reintroduce winter weather in time for the holiday season. The public response was favorable, so it was continued. When the months that signaled cold weather arrived, the WeatherNet seeded the clouds, coaxing a pleasing snowfall into the air. There were still restrictions on the season; precipitation would only fall after rush hour and unfortunately for Coruscant's school-age population, there were no snow days. However, the snow still made people happy. It was soothing to watch the flakes drift, occasionally stirred up by a gentle breeze. Cami drew a level of comfort from it, reminded of the year a strong cold front swept through the Chekkoo Province on her native Rodia, dumping three feet of snow on the enclave. The weather was a fluke, the province was too far south to be affected by snow, the winter months merely drying out the air. At the most, the region dealt with the occasional ice storm, giving the surrounding jungle an unsettling appearance, branches bent with the silvery ice coating, not a sound from the wildlife, only a low eerie wind. That eerie wind returned when the forest was blanketed in white. And as she watched the snow outside, Cami knew the wind was there as well. That soft, low drone. No other sounds, the usual noise deadened by the snow, leaving that strange constant drone. That cold, hollow whoosh... A pair of hands softly caressing her shoulders snapped Cami from her moment of quiet reflection. "Who...?" She attempted to turn around, only to be slammed against the window, her arms wrenched behind her back. The impact of her head against the transparisteel almost caused her to black out. "Shh..." Dokk's voice hissed quietly in her ear. Cami could smell his hot, pungent breath. "Don't say a word now, sweetie... Just be good..." He shoved her against the wall again, conferring with another inmate and fumbling with something behind Cami's back. "What're you doing?!" Cami felt the spines on the back of her neck prickle and she struggled against Dokk's greater strength. "Let go!" Again, Dokk hissed in her ear. "Shh... Don't you dare scream..." His voiced dropped lower and Cami felt his hand tug at her jumpsuit. "You scream and I'll be forced to have Hardin cut dat pretty li'l throat..." Another tug and Cami heard the fabric begin to tear. "We don't want dat to happen, now do we?" A cold feeling gripped her chest and Cami struggled harder, trying to land a kick that would get Dokk off of her. "Let go, Dokk! I didn't do anything to you!" Dokk slammed Cami's head against the window, causing her to lose consciousness for a brief moment. "Remember last week, sweetie?" More fumbling and another rip of fabric and Cami could feel his hot breath against the back of her neck as he pressed against her, pinning her to the wall. "Remember dat? You were pokin' dat green snout a' yours where it don't belong." His voice dropped to a whisper with another rip of fabric. "It's time we teach you a lesson." Her breath coming to her in wavering gasps, fear gripping her as she continued to struggle against Dokk's advances, Cami felt Dokk's hand caressing her, tearing at her jumpsuit. "Please... please don't do this..." "Get the hell off of her!" Cami heard someone yelp behind her, then footsteps as they ran; Hardin must have turned tail. Dokk was obviously enraged. "Stay out of this, bug, or you're next!" "I said: get the hell off of her!" Cami felt Dokk be forcefully yanked off of her, allowing her to turn around and back away in an attempt to reclaim her dignity. She saw Dokk spin about on his heel to face Zuckuss. Dokk's eyes glinted with fury as he rolled up his sleeves. "You're in for a world o' hurt, bug..." Zuckuss motioned to Cami to leave the common area. "Go change. I'll handle this." His attention diverted, he did not see Dokk's swing until the Lepi's fist had connected with his head, sending him stumbling backwards. Another hit and he was on his hands and knees, momentarily disoriented, his face mask dislodged. "Hardin! Gitcher butt over here!" Dokk stepped forward, watching as Zuckuss concerned himself with securing his respirator. "Ain't you gonna fight back, bug? C'mon, show me some a' dat 'Gand Fu' a' yours!" Zuckuss's leg shot out, knocking Dokk's feet out from under him, sending him on his rear. "Lucky hit." He stood up and threw himself bodily against Zuckuss, sending them both crashing to the floor. Dokk shifted his weight, pinning the Gand's short legs against the tiles. "Ain't gonna let you kick me again. I learned the first time-- Hardin!  Now!" Cami, her back pressed against a far wall, decided to finally obey Zuckuss's command and ran for the door of the common area as Hardin recovered his courage and joined the fray. Not caring about her ripped jumpsuit, she alerted a corrections officer to the fight with a gesture toward the huddled mass by the window. Turning, she watched the corrections officer rush over, calling for back-up. She saw several more hits be exchanged until the fight was dispersed; Hardin on the floor, Dokk held up by his arm, and Zuckuss leaning heavily against the wall, fussing with his breath mask; it must have been dislodged again. The situation under control, Cami turned on the ball of her foot and set off for the laundry for a change of clothes. The assault would go unreported. There would be far worse consequences if she dared snitch.