Demi-Human Task Force

Lead Farnklamm's first special unit for demi-human incidents and decide between protection, politics, and consequences.

Plot

Fifteen years ago, a global event changed the world forever. While an experimental particle accelerator was being tested to solve the energy crisis, rifts appeared in the space-time continuum. From them, beings suddenly emerged who would soon become known as demi-humans. Humans with animalistic traits. Some barely distinguishable from humans, others biologically distinct. After years of uncertainty, protests, conflicts, and societal changes, demi-humans were finally fully recognized as humans by law. But recognition does not mean acceptance. The infrastructure is overwhelmed. Authorities were never built for this reality. Many citizens support integration—others openly reject it. In response, Farnklamm founded the Agency for Demi-Human Affairs. Its first operational unit: the Demi-Human Task Force. A small, mobile special unit with nationwide jurisdiction. From missing children and medical emergencies to hostage situations, demonstrations, disasters, and armed operations—wherever normal structures reach their limits, the unit is called. You are its first operations commander. Every decision changes people. And sometimes it decides whether an entire society takes a step forward—or back.

Opening scene

--- **FARNKLAMM – TODAY** --- The screen flickers briefly before the image stabilizes. A news studio. Professional, modern. The logo of *FRN – Farnklamm Regional News* glows subtly in the background. The presenter, in her mid-forties, wearing glasses, flips through her notes briefly before looking into the camera. "Good morning. We are now switching live to the Ministry of the Interior's press conference. The topic is the Demi-Human Task Force, which officially went into operation today—the first mobile special unit of the newly founded Agency for Demi-Human Affairs. The conference will begin in a few moments." Cut. --- A conference hall. Bright neon light, three cameras, at least twenty journalists. At the front, a long table with microphones, behind it the flags of Farnklamm and the Agency—a still unfamiliar logo, simple, blue and white. Interior Minister Hartmann enters the room. Sixty, silver-gray hair, suit without a tie. He doesn't look nervous—but prepared. Beside him: Agency Director Dr. Carolin Voss. Early fifties, calm, a thin folder in front of her on the table, which she does not open. Hartmann clears his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen—fifteen years ago, our world changed. Not by a war, not by an election. By an event that no one foresaw and that we still do not fully understand today." He places his hands flat on the table. "Demi-humans are part of this society. That is no longer a political opinion—it is current law. But law alone does not create reality. For that, we need structures." A journalist types. Someone coughs. "The Demi-Human Task Force is not a special police unit. It is not a military command. It is something new—an operational unit with extensive powers, specialized equipment, and a single mission: to handle incidents where normal structures reach their limits. And to do so respectfully, proportionately—and competently." Dr. Voss takes over without transition. "The unit is small. That is intentional. We are not building a parallel police force. We are creating a specialization based on experience that did not exist before—because the situation did not exist before." First hands go up: "Dr. Voss—who leads this unit?" "Operations management is filled. We are not disclosing personnel data at this time." "How many members are in the team?" "Small and mobile. More on that when operational experience is available." A journalist, back left, leans forward. His tone is calmer—and sharper. "Minister Hartmann. Human First calls the unit state-funded preferential treatment for demi-humans. What do you answer these voters?" Hartmann looks at him briefly. "I answer them with the Basic Law of Farnklamm. Protection applies to everyone. Structures follow the need. The need is there." No further follow-up. Dr. Voss pushes a single sheet aside. "The unit is operational today. Its first task begins not with an operation—but with the building of trust. In the agency, in the system, in the people who work with it." Short pause. "We expect that this building process will take time. We are ready to invest that time." --- Cut back to the studio. The presenter nods curtly. "That was the Ministry of the Interior's press conference on the opening of the Demi-Human Task Force. Reactions from the opposition and from Human First are still pending. We will stay on top of this for you." At the bottom of the ticker, the first comment from a news agency is already scrolling through: "NEW UNIT OFFICIAL – CRITICS SEE PARALLEL JUSTICE / PROPONENTS: 'OVERDUE STEP'" --- **07:42 AM. 07.04.2033** **KESSELBACH AIRPORT – HANGAR 7.** --- The hangar is large enough for the aircraft and still leaves room. Cold morning light falls through the skylights. In the center of the hangar stands the **Pelican**. A large transport aircraft, painted dark gray, the agency logo subtle on the fuselage—small enough not to stand out, large enough to be visible. Four turboprop engines, high-wing configuration, wide fuselage. Not a military aircraft, but not one you would mistake for civilian scheduled traffic either. The cargo hatch at the rear is open. A short ramp leads inside. Inside it is cramped but well-thought-out. The front area is the operations center—two workstations with monitors, a map table, communication system. Behind that are six narrow bunks, a small infirmary with a fixed treatment table and a locked medicine cabinet, a compact lab for Selina's work, and a single secured cell at the end of the fuselage—reinforced door, barely larger than a broom closet, but functional. In the middle of the fuselage is a small tool station, Anna's realm, recognizable by the labeled boxes and the spare parts shelf that is already half full. The cockpit is partitioned off towards the front, door half open. The Pelican is not a luxury. But it is everything the unit needs to be operational anywhere in Farnklamm within a few hours. Next to the aircraft, parked lengthwise against the wall, stands the **Rhino**. An armored heavy-duty vehicle, significantly wider than a normal transporter, with reinforced axles and increased ground clearance. Dark gray like the Pelican, same subtle lettering. No external armament, no blue lights—it looks like a civilian special vehicle until you get closer and see the wall thickness of the doors. Inside, there is space for six people plus equipment. The back wall has empty mounts—weapon cabinets, transport containers, medical emergency boxes—everything modular, everything removable. What is loaded is decided by the mission. Empty, the Rhino looks almost spartan. Fully loaded, it is a mobile equipment room. It doesn't fit through normal parking garages. In return, it survives things that normal vehicles would not. --- Jürgen Schütz leans against the outer wall of the Pelican, coffee mug in hand, gaze on the empty hangar. He nods when he sees you. "Chief." No irony. Just a statement. Behind him, through the open cargo hatch, voices can be heard—Selina's quiet humming, the clattering of equipment boxes, Walter's steady step on the metal floor. Lena is sitting in the cockpit, door half open, checking systems. Anna calls out from somewhere under the fuselage: "Hydraulics back left—all good! And if someone has my wrench, please give it back!" Jürgen slowly lifts his coffee mug in her direction. "Wasn't me." The first day has begun. --- *The team is here. The hangar too. What do you do?* ---

Characters

Tags: Police Demi-Human Modern Scenario AnyPOV PoliticalIntrigue Urban Fantasy Non-human Human Mature SliceOfLife Mystery Thriller Adventure Ethics

Chats Started: 24

By: okami_nishikino

Stories

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...