These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. This might actually be part 1…or the intro…
Jeremiah pushed his chair back, puffed out his cheeks and put his hands behind his head. Just this case to finish and then he would head out for something to eat and then go home. He sighed and looked out across the ofice and noticed he was alone, the three long rows of pods long emptied for the day. As usual he was first in and last out.
“No wonder the detention centres are full” he mumbled to himself.
He scanned the data on the holo-screen before him. Everything looked okay on the surface but something about the case made him uneasy. There were no outstanding warrants or red flags from across any of the four known systems, he had clan already settled on the east coast and his paperwork was faultless. He hadn’t even had any run ins in the centre which was rare for his type.
“Carillions are awful at paperwork” he said to himself opening the file on the clan connections. That was it. That’s what felt wrong, this application just looked too good. “What are you hiding buddy?”
He chewed on a pen as he went through every page of the settlement application, but he couldn’t find anything solid.
Like so many Carillions he had found his way to earth after fleeing his home to escape the persecution of the Tardaron Federation, and whilst the central Earth Government wanted to help they’d been swamped in the three years following first contact so had brought in tight regulations to ensure the other systems weren’t just shipping their problems to Earth.
Now didn’t care for either race particularly but the Carillions had provided the earth government with some pretty serious military tech so for now they were the good guys.
Jeremiah sighed. As much as he wanted to reject the case he couldn’t find anything. He tossed the pen across he desk, pressed the ‘Authorise’ button and shut it down.
“Alexa, what time is it” he asked rubbing his eyes.
“The time is Eight thirty five” came the response.
Jeremiah got up from his chair, pushed it back under his desk and headed for the door. There would be more to process tomorrow, he’d meet his rejection quota then.