2 You're Fired

Or at least, that's what would've happened if Staci decided to be a dumbass and try to defuse a live bomb by themselves without any equipment or safety precautions.

Lucky for us, Staci wasn't a dumbass (okay, that's not true, but I digress).

No, they had everyone evacuate the building, and the bomb was properly isolated and diffused off the premises. But what happened next made Staci wish they had been killed via explosion. At least that was a respectable death.

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Staci was summoned by the IGFBI for an interview.

They sat on a stool uncomfortably low to the ground, feeling like a naughty kid. A Valorian Federal Agent faced them, clicking their claws on a polished black desk in annoyance.

"Do you know why you are here?"

Not this goddamn question.

"Ah, yes." Staci said, "I found a bomb."

The Agent stared at them, expectantly.

"I found... several bombs-?"

Placing their hand on their forehead, the Agent asked "why were the bombs there, Detective? Do you know?"

"Because... someone doesn't like police?"

"Almost. Three days ago, you found evidence to prove that a shadow government was controlling and profiting from an underdeveloped civilisation on a planet known as Ilk'r. Correct?"

"How did you-"

"-I'm a federal agent. We know things."

"Oh."

"You should've given the case to us right away. That would've prevented all of this." The Agent gestured at Staci. They averted their gaze.

"You knew it was out of your jurisdiction, didn't you?"

"Yes," Staci said timidly.

"That in itself is dangerously close to being a National Crime. You are aware of the penalty?"

"Yes." They said again.

"Then why," the Agent slammed the desk with a closed fist. "Did you do it?"

"I... Thought I could handle it," Staci said, defeated.

The Agent sibilated in irritation. "You're going to be put in witness protection."

The hiss of a lit fuse echoed in Staci's auditors.

"In what now?"

"Witness protection. It's for your own safety - and everyone else's'."

"But... but..." Staci stammered "I have a job to do!"

"Not anymore. You'll be evaluated for relocation after this interview."

Boom. A gigantic mushroom of flames and fire; destruction; carnage.

"Don't I get to say goodbye to everyone?" Staci asked, crawling away from the explosion, both legs burnt off.

"Legally, yes. However, it is unnecessary." The Agent answered dismissively.

Staci died from blood-loss.

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Staci was hungry. That's all they were thinking about while they sat in the air-conditioned waiting room. They wondered what kind of food they'd have on their new planet. Probably shit food.

"Staci Valun?" A nurse called.

They looked up.

The nurse bowed slightly, "follow me, please."

The nurse led Staci towards the doctor's office, then into a closet that hid a secret entrance to a low-lit corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a door, which led into a laboratory that was bustling with creatures in long white coats.

"This is the Director." The nurse introduced Staci to a humanoid with four fore-arms, and black sclera, "she'll be overseeing your transformation."

The Director smelled like she had just taken a bath in bleach.

"Wow, I've never gotten to work with a Valorian before! You're not a criminal, are you?"

"Of course not-!"

"Of course not." The director interrupted, nodding.

She circled them, inspecting. She paused to hold up one of Staci's lanky arms.

"You don't mind being in a sort of... experiment, do you?"

"Please explain what you mean by 'experiment'."

"There's this new planet we've found and we've just started putting agents on it; to decide if they're ready for first contact. It's literally the safest place you could be; it's not even known to the public yet." The director paused to breathe.

"The only problem is you'd have to be very careful not to have the indigenous species identify you as an alien."

"They likely won't react in friendly accordance." The Director carried on.

"I'm talking burning at the stake kinda deal." She stated, without being prompted. "Sound good?"

"Yeah, sure..." Staci said.

"Fantastic."

The director poked their horns "these... have to go."

"Excuse me?"

"Humans don't have horns," she explained. "Come with me." The Director led Staci to a chair and bound their wrists.

"Hold still please."

A droning buzz started up and Staci felt an incredible heat near their head.

What the-

The lazer cut right through their cornual diverticulum of frontal sinus, severing; burning nerve endings. It forced a scream from Staci that tore their throat apart.

It was over quickly. The Director unbound their wrists. They shook in pain. Staci reached up to touch the stubs. The Director slapped their hand away.

"Leave it for a while."

The Director held Staci's beautiful charcoal horns in her hands "can I keep these?"

"Sure..." they said, exasperated.

"Cool," she put them in a clear zip-lock bag.

"Look straight forward," The Director said as a machine mapped out their face. She checked the scan and nodded in approval. "Show me your hands."

She inspected their long, boney fingers. "Retract your nails?"

Staci obliged.

"Hm," she rummaged around for a pair of clippers and snipped and filed Staci's nails until they were round and smooth. Staci examined them and frowned.

The Director called the nurse.

"Yes?" He asked upon entering the room.

"Ydheril, please take Staci here to see the orthodontist."

"Yes, ma'am." He said, before leaving the room.

Staci watched him go.

"Follow him," the Director suggested.

"Ah yes, of course."

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"Okay, take a seat. No, no, lie down." The orthodontist passed them a pair of tinted glasses.

"Open up, please."

Glimmering purple eyes peered into their oesophagus. A masked mouth muttered technical terms to itself.

He poked around in Staci's maw. They didn't like the taste of the sterile gloves.

"I don't think veneers are going to do it." He noted to his assistant.

"Retract, please."

Staci teeth retreated back into their mandible. The dentist squished their gums.

"Yeah, we'll go for dentures."

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"I'm thinking... male."

"Are you sure? They're quite skinny."

"Look, Alisia, you're the assistant, I'm the Director. I call the shots. 'Kay?"

Alisia sighed, "yes ma'am."

"Thank you. Now for phenotypes... Caucasian."

"Okay." Alisia agreed.

"You can decide on the hair." The Director allowed her.

"How about that yellowish colour."

"Ew, no."

The assistant furrowed her brow.

"I'm sorry, you're just really bad at this."

The Director gave the avatar black hair dark eyes.

"There. Perfect." She clasped her hands together. "Shall we name him?"

Alisia inspected her list of human names, "Zayne." She offered.

"No, I don't like the sound of that first consonant."

"Wayne?" She tried again.

"Brilliant."

The Director hit a few buttons on the computer and a three-dimensional printer pumped out their designs. A small amount of faux-haemoglobin was set beneath the dermis in case the subject was pricked or lightly stabbed. The Director examined the facial disguise.

"I do love the smell of a freshly printed mask."

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