A level two Deathworlder barrels toward Mr. Sunshine at full bore and slams into him, knocking him to the ground and landing on top of Sunshine, just as a large part of a scaffold falls. The Deathworlder is harmed though not fatally, but is glad they saved the Human from serious harm. -- Anon Guest
Humans are bizarre creatures to begin with. Members of Pax Humanis are what Humans consider abnormal psychology. In this case, it meant dismissing quite a lot of things as Not Threatening.
Even things that should have been.
A rare holiday on a planet, albeit carefully supervised. A construction site with a slight disregard for all of the rules[1]. One individual who saw the danger that Mr Sunshine casually ignored. A creak. A snap. A moment fraught with potential trouble.
A cloud of dust. Shouting security forces. Mr Sunshine blinked in confusion at the sky. There was blood on his face. Unacceptable. He was a clean killer. They were going to ruin his shirt.
The body on top of him was still breathing. Good. It was bad form to end anyone who wasn't a sponsored target. A fellow Deathworlder, but not of the same grade as himself.
"Ow," they managed. "That hurt. Are you all right, sir?"
"You are the one who is wounded," said Sunshine. He held empty hands up to show the security forces. "I am unarmed. Call some Mediks. Our fellow cogniscent has come to an injury."
With some help, they untangled from the situation. Sunshine came away from the event with little more than splinters and a mild bruise or two. As for the other...
They were pierced through with several fragments of substandard scaffolding. Unprofessional and far too messy. So too were the broken bones. Not a clean kill at all, in several ways. Not a kill. Not clean. Sunshine recalled with distaste that some fellow members of Pax Humanis would be admiring the 'gibs' all over the scene.
Then he remembered that this was not a scene of intended murder.
Sunshine switched protocols on a hairpin turn. This cogniscent was not a fortunate victim, but an unfortunate victim. Someone to protect and not an unfinished job.
Social protocols, as the Mediks saw to the immediate trouble. Belatedly on script was better than no script at all. "Are you going to be all right? Do you need anything?"
That was the moment that this savior noticed the colours on Sunshine's sweater vest. Hazard colours. Black. Yellow. Red. This is dangerous. The blood did not help. Or maybe it did assist in conveying the message. Sunshine glanced at one of the Security forces. Checking that he had performed correctly.
Impassive and inscrutable. Damn.
"I am sure I will be well. I will be filing charges against the construction company responsible. On both our behalves."
"I will inform them that they have gained the attention of Pax Humanis," said Sunshine. The fact that he said this in passive, even tones only enhanced the menace. "That should accelerate the process amenably."
"I have no doubt it will."
Sunshine said, "I owe you a favour. I will leave the naming of it to your discretion."
That, as evidenced by the body language of all involved, was an even bigger threat.
[1] Blame the Dereggers in charge who know their rights.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / vk3595]
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