[b]Location:[/b]
[indent][b]Raygon 8, Lower Orbit.[/b][/indent]
[indent][b]Domestic Commuter Port 111-201[/b][/indent]
[indent][indent][i]We’re back again with an even better sale! Up to 99% off on [b]ALL[/b] imported protein-based products! Keep an eye out for the Sustynance label on the package to participate![/i][/indent][/indent]
[indent][i]This post and the products listed within have been brought to you in collaboration with Sustynance™© - your food; your health.[/i][/indent]

[img]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/019/149/488/large/randi-sanchez-verduga-port.jpg?1562222744[/img]

[b]Subject:[/b] 
[indent][b]Name:[/b] Lobutos Zigg[/indent]
[indent][b]Age:[/b] 41 cycles around Raygon 0.[/indent]
[indent][b]Residence:[/b] In transit to: Bick 2.[/indent]
[indent][b]Occupation:[/b] Unemployed.[/indent]
[indent][b]Workplace:[/b] Between jobs.[/indent]
[indent][b]Current Debt to the Adamantium Bank:[/b] [u]15 999[/u] ITC Credits.[/indent]

[hider=Post Theme][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXPgfLl-xp8[/youtube][/hider]

[hr]

Mr. Zigg adjusted his facial disguise somewhat. It was a white clay mask (plastic in reality, of course), marked with the sketches and swirls befitting of an acolyte of Debrontism, a Putt faith with considerable following on Raygon 8, even amongst non-Putts. Behind him, his wife and two kids trailed anxiously as they pushed and mobbed their way through the river of life flowing towards the distant gates up ahead. Mr. Zigg made certain to eye their surroundings often and vigilantly - they weren’t safe until they were off-world. 

And even then…

“Lobutos!” came a sharp whisper from behind him. He turned to stare into his wife’s equally masked face head on, and then down at her finger, which she pointed at their youngest, Lobuna, who struggled to keep pace. With four quick paces, Mr. Zigg made his way to the back of their group and pulled his daughter to himself before she could be swallowed up by the living sea. 

“Don’t fall behind,” he cautioned her. Lobuna was on the brink of tears, visible even through her smaller mask. Mr. Zigg looked around again. A few strangers had turned to eye them, but most simply ignored them.

“Oi, keep moving,” came a snide grunt from the person behind them. Mr. and Mrs. Zigg, as well as Lobuna and Sambel, all took a moment to stare in fright at an absolute beast of a Qurok. Mr. Zigg grit his teeth, even as every nerve in his body were firing for him to run, and simply pushed his daughter on, along with his wife and son. The Qurok offered another surly snort, but didn’t seem to have further inquiries as long as the line kept moving.

“You’re such a piece of shit, you know that?” Mrs. Zigg whispered to Mr. Zigg as he passed by her. His expression didn’t change much, however; mostly due to the mask, of course, but even the parts of his face that were visible gave little sign of change. He merely sighed and gave both the children another gentle push so that they were a distance away from them.

“Can we not do this right now?”

“No, I think we will. Listen here, Lobutos - not only did you get us in this fucking deep debt, but -then- you decide that we’re running off to escape--”

Mr. Zigg tapped his index over where his mouth would’ve been, but this didn’t seem to deter her. “I should just turn you in, you know.” Mr. Zigg groaned. “As soon as your days are up, there’ll be a bounty on you - and on us. It doesn’t matter where we go, Lobutos - we’re dead when you’re with us.”

Mr. Zigg rubbed his temples. The gates were getting closer and the crowd was thickening even more. “Woman, can this please wait? Chew me out all you want once we’re onboard, alright? Just… Keep it down out here.”

Mrs. Zigg glared daggers at him. “I want a divorce once we land, is that clear?”

Mr. Zigg drew a long breath. “What made you come along if you’re just going to leave me when we land, huh?” She hesitated to answer, and as her voice broke through the mask, it was interrupted by a deafening announcement thundering from the speakers above.

[b]”ATTENTION, ALL PASSENGERS BOARDING COMMUTER SHUTTLE ONE-ONE-FOUR-SIX-EIGHT-THREE TO… BICK TWO. WE WILL NOW COMMENCE BOARDING. PLEASE HAVE YOUR ARMBANDS READY FOR SCANNING.”[/b]

Mr. Zigg took a deep breath. As Mrs. Zigg helped the kids prepare, he prayed to every conceivable deity that the Bank hadn’t blocked his right of travel. They four of them eventually arrived at the gate, where bent-necked, somber-looking Cybe servant with modified scanner hands went over armbands. 

Sambel and Lobuna held out their wristbands. [i]Pling![/i] it went twice. The Cybe sighed mechanically and gave them each a scan. “Welcome…” it droned sourly.

Next was Mrs. Zigg. The Cybe gave her armband a scan. [i]Pling![/i] it went once. “Welcome…” She walked on by and begun herding the children towards the entrance tunnel.

Mr. Zigg walked over to have his band scanned. The Cybe moved his hand over and, [i]pling![/i]

“Wait…” it droned uncertainly. Mr. Zigg froze. The Cybe made the effort to lift its head and actually look at Lobutos. Inside the entrance gate, Mr. Zigg saw his children pulling at his wife’s dress disguise and pointing in his direction with worried expressions. The Cybe’s scanner hand manifested a thumb, which it licked with a mechanical tongue. It then proceeded to scrub away some muck on Mr. Zigg’s mask. Its expressionless face nonetheless managed to form the grumpiest frown Zigg had ever seen.

“At least keep your attire right if you’re gonna pose as one of us.”

Mr. Zigg blinked. “Excuse me?”

The Cybe curled its nonexistent lips. “Debrontists take care to keep their attire clean. You don’t, so you’re definitely a poser. Anyway, you’re stopping the line, so keep moving.” With a shove, the Cybe cast Mr. Zigg behind itself, mumbling something along the lines of “damn prick”. 

Mr. Zigg looked dumbfounded for a second, but couldn’t delay for even a second before the river of flesh pushed him onwards. He looked down the tunnel - his family must’ve gone on ahead. As he followed the hallway, he vaguely picked up the Bickese news being broadcast in the background.

“... and starting tomorrow, DegmaCorp factories will be bolstering local defenses in response to increased rates of worker uprisings on Bick 2. Colonial security encourage all citizens to remain indome as much as possible in the coming weeks, and…”

“Shit, did you hear that?” Mr. Zigg permitted himself to eavesdrop on an adjacent chatting pair. They were both Quroks, dressed in sooty, orange work suits, hems and neck ringed with metal.

“Yeah,” said the other, “I hope Pree is doing alright. She works in that factory there.”

“Really? Shit, how’s she taking it?”

The other one offered a mocking laugh. “What, working under DegmaCorp? She hates every second of it.” 

Zigg bit into a nail. Every damn time, there always had to be something. 

The door to the shuttle approached, and once more, the river of flesh flowing into it got considerably denser. Mr. Zigg eyed the ticket on his wristband. Had Adamantium Bank really not barred him from leaving Raygon 8? What could they possibly gain from that? Even as he arrived at the economy class seats assigned to his family, he ignored his wife’s scoldings in favour of pondering the questions filling his mind. Before he could reach a conclusion, however, an announcement blared from above.

[b]”Attention, passengers. Interstellar travel will soon commence. Please have a seat and fasten your seatbelts in preparation for take-off.”[/b]

It wasn’t the first time Zigg had flown - he had once joined a ship test at his company’s 200th anniversary party. However, he still had to teach his family his to properly buckle up and affix oxygen masks. Economy class masks were one-size-fits-all, which they absolutely didn’t. Being of the majority species, Zigg and his family were relatively lucky, but he took a moment to eye the various passengers whose mouthes were much too small for the Raygonian-sized masks given to them. He shook his head disapprovingly and laid back into his hard plastic seat. Their seats were pretty far ahead in the economy cabin, and ahead, he heard the cheerful chuckle of lower-business class travellers, waited on by a Cybe cabin crew. A green bile of envy filled his chest, but he subdued it in time for one more announcement.

[b]”Attention, passengers. Welcome aboard commuter shuttle 114683 to Bick 2. My name is Raepsol Flux and I’m your captain for this flight…”[/b]

Oh, great. A Petalos…

[b]“... We’ll be expecting a relatively peaceful flight with mild solar winds, limited radiation and only trace radio disturbances. Keep in mind that there are bags in the baskets on the seats in front of you for when we reach the gateways - on behalf of the crew, we beg you to please make use of them if you experience nausea, uncontrollable drooling or spontaneous bleeding. On that note, we at X-Pressure Interstellar would like to remind all passengers that we are -not- responsible for any injuries, discomforts or chronic diseases acquired aboard one of our flights. Make certain to keep your leaded blankets handy for when we pass by Bick 0 and have a pleasant flight. And now, a quick word from our sponsors…”[/b]

While advertisements blared in the background, Zigg dug up the unnecessarily heavy leaded blankets from under their four seats, keeping them at the ready by his stumpy feet. As the advertisements neared their end, the ship began to rumble with movement. Considering they were still in the lower atmosphere, the craft needed considerable energy to take off. The tickets hadn’t been cheap, but the central space station known as the Belt was known for being a den of outlaws, tax evaders, and indebted scum. The patrolling private police and Bobbies were too many to pass by. Due to the price and rare use, sub-orbit transports were incredibly rare. It had been mostly luck that he had found one, really. 

As the ship began to accelerate and the Gs began to pick up, Zigg drifted into a deep sleep. He would likely wake up at some point once they were further out into the Raygon system, but for now, he just needed his senses to relax.

The journey was rather uneventful. His daughter Lobuna had to vomit when they exited the gate in the Bick system, but that was about it. As they approached the sorry excuse for a planet, a buzz indicated the captain was about to speak. Lobuna and Sambel glued their faces to the aisle window, marveling at the silvery surface of the planet below.  

[img]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/009/608/284/large/darius-kalinauskas-conceptart-environment-planet-scifi-ice-spaceship1.jpg?1519917762[/img]

Bick 2… Possibly one of the remotest inhabited planets in the Raygonian Triangle. It had no atmosphere to speak of, nor a magnetic field to create one. Its iron core had frozen solid aeons ago, and the atmosphere, which had been speculated to be acidic and lethal, had drifted away as a result. The silvery surface was speckled with enormous pit mines blasting kilometres of grey, glittering debris into space above. The gravity on Bick 2 was but an eighth of that on Raygon - Mr. Zigg could already feel the muscle atrophy kick in. A prolonged stay would make it hard for him and his family to ever return to Raygon. The “planet” itself had a population of 14 million, mostly miners exploiting the enormous quantities of lithium and tritium. The local superpower was, as the news had cautioned, DegmaCorp, a subsidiary of Og’slough Bros. Asteroid Mining.

Mr. Zigg prayed he’d find some form of work there.

[b]“Dear passengers, welcome to Bick 2. We’ll be landing at Amaterasu Space Port in roughly one hour and fifteen minutes, Raygon 8 time. We kindly ask all passengers to please take their seats and fasten their seatbelts for landing. Once again, we would like to thank our sponsors for this magnificent trip, and hope your trips, too, have been further improved by the presence of such wonderful products as…”[/b]

While the advertisements blared once more, Mr. Zigg opened a holographic screen from his wristband. After tapping and swiping the ads away, he found that the wristband already had connected to the local network satellite. He brought up a feed on the local news and casually let his eyes scan the page. Network speed was akin to a snail’s pace out here, worse than even bottom tier connections. Videos wouldn’t load and neither would pictures half the time. For the first time in his life, Mr. Zigg had to resort to reading the transcriptions. His brow furrowed as he did.

[indent][i]Local authorities have received a tip from the Extra-Raygonial Bureau of Investigation (ERBI) that a wanted criminal gang leader has arrived on the planetary surface in order to assist local terrorists against DegmaCorp operations. The CEO of Og’slough Brothers Asteroid Mining, Arrto Og’slough, condemns the cowardly and unwarranted actions of the terrorist uprisings and promises to send reinforcements to Bick 2 in response to the arrival of this unknown gang leader.[/i][/indent]

Mr. Zigg blinked and frowned. He straightened out his back and looked back and forth in his shuttle. From what he had seen back on Raygon, his co-passengers didn’t seem much like criminals.

Maybe except that one monster of a Qurok…

The “bump!” and “clank” of metal arms clutching the ship knocked him off his train of thought. His family were already disembarking and Mr. Zigg rushed after them in a hurry, dragging their luggage behind him.

They exited into a hallway, where the sea of people once again thickened around them. Up above, hanging from the ceiling, TV screens displayed minutely updates on the uprisings, which, according to them, were thankfully happening far away from the space port. 

As they approached the customs up ahead, Mr. Zigg noticed the Quroks from the platform back on Raygon; furthermore, he noticed that they had noticed him, too, and were staring quite fiercely at him. Mr. Zigg averted his eyes. What was their problem?

“Hey, daddy?” came a whimpering voice from Sambel. Mr. Zigg sighed.

“What’s up, sport?” He looked down at his son, who was pointing up at one of the TV screens. Mr. Zigg followed the finger and felt his heart sting with fear. Around him, whispers fumed like poisonous gas and eyes aimed their sights on him like guns. The TV screens were all displaying images of him - his face.

“... Authorities have now been informed by the ERBI that the criminal gang leader previously mentioned to have landed on Bick 2 has been identified as Lobutos Zigg, a wanted mass murderer and gun smuggler from the central tiers of Raygon 8. Furthermore, due to the potential danger this individual, Adamantium Bank has announced that they, too, will send monetary and military support to quell the uprisings on Bick 2. This criminal is…”

Zigg’s eyes slowly rolled over in the direction of his family, but Mrs. Zigg had already disappeared with their children. Way behind the crowd, he heard distant shouts for “daddy!”, while the mob closed around him ever tighter.

“Make way! Step aside! ACPD! ACPD!” The mechanical voices of Cybes backed up by gorilla grunts and growls warned that the authorities weren’t far off. However, Zigg could simply stand there, hardly able to breathe.

“... Why…” was all he managed to say before being tackled to the floor by a gorilla dressed in a private police uniform. The tackle knocked him out cold, and Zigg was taken away.

[hider=TLDR!]
Zigg escapes Raygon ‘cuz debt. Goes to Bick 2, aka. the Boonies^2. Family hates him for it, but hey, what can you do. Hints are dropped that there’s some serious bizz going on on Bick 2, mostly uprisings and stuff. When they land, turns out that Zigg is framed as a criminal big shot sent to help the rebels and is arrested. Fade to black.
[/hider]