Lost In Transit (EN) (P:A)

SPECIAL DELIVERY

In there, the humanoid-ish critter would sit on one of the chairs present, looking at a mirror on the opposite direction from the door he came through, and begin to apply some kind of sterilization gel throughout his body, save for his thighs together with his chest, as they were enveloped by casings of metal, and covered by the clothing he put on.

As he went on sterilizing himself. He'd keep thinking of the trip he has coming ahead. Not happily, but just as another work day. The sensation of being a bit afraid partially resonated on his thoughts due to it being night time, with few people being on the street, his bath being only one of the things keeping himself from negative thoughts, relaxing him, but in the end, he knew it was only delaying his voyage.

He'd finally finish his sterilizing, getting off his chair and swiftly walking to one of the drying booths, where he was blasted with a controlled hot steam cloud, which would cause the gel to dry, removing any impurities with it as well. He'd then walk next to the lockers, extending his right arm to open it, grabbing his formal uniform, walking back next to the chair he was originally sterilizing himself, sitting there.

He'd use his left arm to put on a green armband on his right one, with the word "COURIER" sewed on it, along with a kintetsu logo just below. He'd then begin grooming himself, due to having fur, plus wanting to make himself presentable to his client, after taking a wide minute of grooming, he finally wore his uniform, a green jacket, with a kintetsu logo on the left of his chestplate, and a name plaque on the right, which displayed the name "Fred", before finishing up, he'd put on a curious choice of fashion, a yellow, brazilian bucket hat, displaying the flag of the country on the front. He'd grab his identification card, stowing it in his uniform's left chest pocket, just below his name plaque. He'd keep the shorts for better mobility, especially due to his digitigrade features.

Fred'd do some final adjusting to the clothes he wore before walking out of the sanitizing bay, to the still small, yet partially wider management office aiming to reach out to his superior.

Getting through the dome's tight corridors, the underling would finally reach the office's door ringing it's doorbell, only for the door to open in a matter of three seconds later.

Inside, he'd see his superior, their plaque reading the name "Daipylas". It seems it was a protogen like himself, except their uniform had a five-star controller insignia on the left of their chest uniform, and some kind of neural interface sticking out of their neck with an antenna, allowing her to manage her computer remotely, the leader would begin speaking. "Ancillary adjunct number six, of centimatrix vega-ninety-eight." She'd greet with a female voice.

"Primary." Fred replied, locking his eyesight on his superior, while respectfully getting in a formal position by putting his arms on his back.

"The generic aspects of your assignment were formulated already." She'd say, pausing a bit before continuing. "Partially rehearsing the most meticulous facets, you aren't expected to use a vehicle by our client. I suppose you are aware of their indicated drop location?" The controller affirmed, only to question her underling.

"The Lucky Royale Casino, as a priority one clientship, I am to ensure it's arrival directly to the recipient." The underling affirmed, being as direct as he can.

"Correct. In said case, you are cleared to proceed. The parcel can be located at locker number twenty-three, third subsection." She'd provide the information to her underling.

Fred nodded, as he'd turn to head out, only for the primary to direct herself to him informally. "Five seven."

"?" He'd flick his ear partially to listen to her, turning his head to look at her.

"Have my T-Pass." She'd hand over an Alaska Intercity bus card. To which Fred turned the rest of his body to grab it, rubbing his snout against hers as the protogen cultural tradition dictates as a sign of respect, before leaving her office.

On his way to the second locker room, Fred put the transportation pass on his left chest pocket, before walking to the lockers. Once there, he'd stroll through several rows, before finding locker twenty-three, and opening it by turning its knob, inputting the correct password.

The subsection was really just a small shelf inside the locker. And there it was, sitting on it, a box. It was about one and a half feet tall, once he grabbed it however, expecting to hold something weightful, it felt almost like the cardboard container was empty, save for the bubble wrap and other protection stuffing inside.

Albeit confused. Fred carried on, grabbing the box, and picking one of the readily available delivery backpacks in the locker room, putting the box inside it.

He'd then go back to the main access corridor of the dome station, and leave through the main door. Once out, he pressed a button on a device attached to his large delivery backpack, to begin the trek recording of his voyage, before looking up. It was snowing as usual.

Fred exhaled. Talking to himself for a moment. "It is another service only." He said. Before walking east of the dome, to a bus stop.

Back in the office, the two SPs watched. Farret began reading out the sensor telemetrics. "Asset's cutaneous probe is detecting cortisol production. No big change. Position?"

"Asset's moving east of origin point. Saving the coordinates for the manifest." He said, inputting an extra floppy on his station's drive, which would load in a program that began taking screenshots each half minute. He'd then move his chair to the right side of his desk, where a red telephone sat. He'd pick up the handset, before speaking. "This is Master Sergeant Bargues, speaking from the monitoring post nine-o-nine. Requesting uh, the civilian agent to mobilize near the casino plaza, close to the royale. Ready border inspector for incoming public transport at Kenai transfer point D-7, have them wait for further orders."

The hotline operator responded. He sounded like a man in his sixties. "Copy that. Stand by." A hot minute passed. When they reported back. "Border inspector in position. Awaiting for civilian contact to report."

Bargues acknowledged. "Copy that." Before putting the phone handset back on its stand.

Farret would comment. "Can only guess how much we'll still be able to get him through without federal investigations bothering us."

Bargues replied. "Mm. Find that hard." He then began looking back at his monitor. Removing the floppy, as its memory was full already, before putting in a new one. He'd continue to watch Fred.

By that point, Fred had reached a bus stop. And was waiting alone. He'd be holding his card, and securing his backpack.

After about nine minutes of waiting. A bus arrived, the courier looked at it's luminous text sign in the front, to see what it's destination was, and so Fred confirmed, it was going to enter the city, not at his destination specifically, but he could request for a halt near it later.

He then entered it. The bus featured an articulated design. Once its doors opened, Fred would enter its second car, dedicated to protogen passengers only, with humans going in the first one. He'd put his card against a scanner, allowing the turnstile to open, and for him to board in. The inside was crowded, several others already occupied the seats, squeezing together to open space.

Once Fred was in. The Bus would set its way to Anchorage. Fred would look out of the window. Seeing the snowy, town-like environment pass against him, transitioning into a concrete highway.

An arch displaying the so known phrase of Anchorage was briefly seen by Fred. It had written in neon in its upper section: "Prepare for the future! - Anchorage is 35 miles away."