Tales From the Terran Republic

“So U wan’ dem all fragged?” a thin, extremely pale man with fine ashen brown hair asked with a feral grin.

“That’s right,” Gloria replied to the odd-looking fellow on her holo-screen. “Every single one of them.”

“Whatch U kare ‘bout Harkeen?” he asked, “Dey small time.”

“Is it going to be a problem?”

“Nah,” the human shrugged, “Ez Munny. We jus’ wonderin’ what beef U guyz had wit’ those scrubs.”

“Quid pro quo,” Gloria said as she leaned back in her chair, “I take care of this for a friend, and a friend does something for me.”

“Da little frog that sings nice?” the man asked.

Gloria’s eyes narrowed.

“How do you know about the frog?”

“Everybuddy kno ‘bout da frog,” he shrugged. “She the only one beefin wit’ the Harkeen dat I kno ‘bout. I like her. She sings nice.”

“She’s also a first-class pain in my ass,” Gloria smirked.

“How U kno frog?”

“That would be a large steaming pile of none of your fucking business,” Gloria smiled. “Just deal with the Harkeen, ok?”

“Our peeps already on da way,” the man grinned. “Dey already dead. Dey jus’ don’ kno it yet.”

“Oh, I have a request from my ‘unnamed friend’,” Gloria smiled, “make it nasty.”

“Like worse than normal?” the man mused, his huge eyes softening. “How we do that?”

“I don’t know,” Gloria snickered, “Figure something out. My unnamed friend wants to send them a message. There’s a bonus in it for you if you manage to disgust me.”

The man just grinned.

***

Inside a payday loan office, a Threen was frantically downloading the contents of their transactors.

“Hurry up!” A Threen said urgently as they yanked a data crystal from a terminal, “We gotta...”

He glared up at some strange-looking, short, and extremely pale humans that walked into his office.

He thought he locked that door!

“We’re closed!” he yelled.

“Convenient,” a young teenage girl with unnaturally large eyes and oddly ashen light brown hair replied. “Leav dat one. Frag da rest,” she said in a very strange but completely emotionless voice.

“Oh, shi—“the Threen yelped as he reached for his blaster.

The young lady turned into a blur, breaking his arm with a telescoping baton as her comrades shot past, drawing suppressed submachine guns.

The Threen screamed as his blaster fell to the ground. The young woman’s arm turned into a blur, and his right kneecap exploded.

He fell, screaming in pain, to the ground as bursts of muffled gunshots rang out.

“P-please…” the Threen begged, “I have money… You can have it… all of it… please...”

The thin, frail-looking young girl grabbed him by the throat, effortlessly lifting him to her eye level.

“Please...”

She smirked and broke his other leg.

He screamed.

He screamed for quite some time.

***

“Supernova!” Lucky crowed as she slammed her cards onto the floor of her cell, as everybody groaned…

...everyone that is except for one rather smug-looking avian.

“Black hole,” she said quietly as she laid her cards face up as the cell exploded in hoots, bellows, clicks, and howls.

“You fucking narc!” Lucky shouted as she threw a handful of mylar-wrapped goodies at the smirking Novux, who primly gathered the pot, “First you spy on us, and now you rob us?!? Why I oughtta...”

“You ‘oughtta’ ante up,” Serugnktti replied, clicking her beak, “that is if you have anything left.”

The cell broke out in “Ooooh’s”.

Lucky walked over to her locker and quickly surveyed her ever-shrinking stash.

“I’m out,” she replied. “Why don’t you go and terrorize the humans again? I think Visha might have some honey buns left.”

“Visha doesn’t want to play anymore,” Serugnktti replied as she expertly shuffled the cards, “Do you know she actually accused me of having a computer implant?”

“It would explain a few things,” Lucky said as she narrowed her eyes. “How the FUCK do you keep winning?”

“Just a little something called skill,” the Novux replied, “You Xvli aren’t the only ones with good memory, you know.”

“Goddamn red-frills...” Lucky grumbled. “Did your mommy pay extra for that?”

“It was my father, actually,” Serugnktti replied, “My egg was both salted and peppered. Eidetic memory, enhanced base intellect, improved reflexes, perfect eyesight… Pops bought the works.”

“And he still kept those knock-knees of yours?” Lucky asked impishly, preying on a known insecurity of the narc’s species.

“Oh, I brought that up, believe me,” Serugnktti laughed. “You should have seen them before I grew into these things. They were like lawn boulders! He said that I would thank him when I was older and those pretty birds were wearing braces. There is such a thing as too many ‘improvements’…”

The Novux parted her beak in a lascivious smile.

“...Besides, I never had any problems getting a date. The guys were too busy staring at my magnificent tail to look any further down,” she clucked with satisfaction.

Serugnktti started handing out a healthy portion of her winnings to the crowd.

“Here you go, Lucky,” she said as she offered the Xvli a honey-bun. “On the house.”

Lucky flipped her off as she accepted a honeybun that she previously owned, to everyone’s delight.

“So tell me, narc,” Lucky said as she opened the commissary pastry, “how the hell did a Novux wind up working for the Terrans?”

Serugnktti snorted and clamped her beak shut, a sign of discomfort.

“That bad?” Lucky asked around a mouthful of greasy, sticky, overly sweet goodness.

“I (pardon the pun) ran ‘afoul’ of the powers that be,” the Novux hissed. “It was during the War between the Collective and the Allies. I was part of a group that thought that we should join forces with the Terrans and the Empire and was perhaps a bit too free with my opinion, especially in very easy-to-trace electronic documents… I thought I was being clever enough to get away with it, but after one ‘anonymous’ post too many, I found myself looking down the barrel of some pretty serious charges back home. I was charged with sedition and the release of classified information.”

“Sounds like that’s a bit more than just an underground paper there, narc…” Lucky mused, “Novux… underground paper... Holy shit! You’re Clicky-Leaks!”

Serugnktti signed and buried her face in her breast feathers as impressed noises broke out among the crowd in Lucky’s cell.

“Clicky-Leaks?” the Juona asked.

“Only the biggest release of dirty laundry there was before Shelia Donovan!” Lucky said, rising to her feet and performing a formal Xvli bow. “We are in the presence of greatness!”

“The presence of great fuck-upness,” Serugnktti replied ruefully, “and a great sell-out. I printed that bullshit ‘confession’.”

“Which nobody believed,” Lucky replied. “What the hell happened after that? You just disappeared.”

“I wound up in a ‘rehabilitation facility’,” Serugnktti shuddered.

“Jesus,” Lucky winced.

“It took me over a year to convince them that they had ‘cured’ me,” Serugnktti hissed. “One year of pure hell, but I managed to have them think that I was a reformed good little bird. They had this plan where they were going to take me on tour and have me sing this nice little song about how I made it all up. Once they let me out, it was an easy matter to give them the slip and jump a freighter.”

“They just let you go?”

“I had a couple of handlers, but they weren’t worried,” Serugnktti smirked. “The Novux have psychiatry down to a science. They thought I was their broken little trained pet and would do exactly what they said, especially since more than a few of the medications I was on were totally addictive. That’s now the Novux do things. No need for cages and chains and armed guards. You will just go into fatal withdrawal.”

“But you are alive.”

“Because the Republic can make just about any bio-compound they want in an afternoon,” Serugnktti chuckled. “All I had to do was survive until I got here, and I was home free. ‘Clicky-Leaks’ had no problem getting asylum and all cleaned up. Been working for Republic Intelligence ever since.”

“And now Clicky-Leaks is hunting down Sheloran!” Gizz said, clapping her hands excitedly. “It’s like one of those picture magazines!”

“They are called comic books,” Serugnktti replied, “and the ‘Superhero’ Clicky-Leaks got made on her first field mission and is now stuck in jail with a bunch of criminals who don’t know a goddamn thing.”

A biped completely covered in long bright yellow fur ambled in, holding a plastic tub. She then squatted over it and started to noisily urinate as everyone cheered.

“Fresh from the tap!” the yellow ‘Cousin It’ proclaimed.

Lucky quickly rushed to her locker and pulled out a couple of packages of fruit cocktail and a plastic mug.

Handing the packets to the yellow critter, she filled her mug with the xeno’s “product”.

“What is it with you people and piss?” the Novux asked in shocked confusion as a line started to form.

“Mellow Yellow over here is a Ngun-xa,” Lucky said as she raised the mug to her lips. “Their metabolism has a little quirk that makes Mellow one of the richest people in this place… Oh, that is the stuff...” Lucky added as she took a sip. “Their piss is about thirty proof. Our friend pisses hooch.”

“And it tastes really good too!” Gizz said, her whiskers twitching happily as she offered the horrified Novux her cup. “Here, try some!”

“Considering your obsession with urine, I’ll pass,” Serugnktti replied.

“No, seriously,” Lucky replied, turning up her mug, “Mellow could sell this whizz back home. It’s pretty decent. You guys drink ethanol?”

Serugnktti looked at Lucky dubiously. If this was a trick, they were going all out.

“What the hell,” Serugnktti sighed. “I really could use a drink.”

Everyone cheered as Lucky handed Mellow Yellow a clean mug. The xeno selected some of Serugnktti’s recently acquired loot and filled the mug from her plastic tub.

Serugnktti raised the mug to her beak and sniffed suspiciously. It actually smelled good.

She took a sip.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

It was delicious, warm, flavorful, delightfully complex…

...and potent!

“Told ya,” Gizz smiled as she polished off her tiny little mug. “Good, right?”

“The galaxy is a weird, weird place,” Serugnktti muttered as she shook her head and took another drink.

“Got anything left in the tank?” a human voice asked as Visha and her crew poked their heads into the cell.

“Of course,” Mellow Yellow replied as one of Visha’s crew handed the xeno a large zip-loc bag which the xeno promptly started filling.

“Oh, narc, before I forget,” Visha said as she filled a mug. “The Harkeen tried to take out the Drop of Oil last night. Didn’t go so good. The cops are still filling body bags.”

“Was Sheloran there?” Lucky asked.

“Not officially,” Visha replied, “but somebody paid a little visit to a certain Threen vessel, and that somebody was angry. You see that video of hers?”

“Yeah?”

“It was worse,” Visha smirked. “She didn’t just mutilate them. She desecrated them. They can’t even receive a proper Threen burial after what she did. They say it was nasty.”

“How could it be worse than the video?” Lucky asked, “She turned one guy into a cold cut combo.”

“It was how it was done,” Visha replied. “something to do with Threen religion or some shit like that. The Threen won’t even set foot on the ship now, say that it’s tainted or something, not that there are many left...”

Visha grinned as she drank another slug of xeno piss.

“Rumor also has it that somebody just put in a hit on the Harkeen… all of them… everywhere… and put it in with some real sweethearts.”

“Who?” Lucky asked.

“The Quaoarans.”

“Eesh,” Lucky shuddered, “Well, that’s that, then… poor bastards...”

“The who?” Serugnktti asked.

“Oh, you guys already know all about them,” Visha replied, “They’re Kuipers.”

“Kuipers?” Gizz asked, “Who are they?”

“The Republic officially ‘owns’ the Sol System,” Visha smirked, “But the Republic’s rule of law only extends out about as far as Neptune. Beyond that, it belongs to the Kuipers. They’ve been out there since before Yellowstone, and even Jessica Morgan didn’t fuck with those guys.”

“Are they humans?”

“Kinda,” Visha shrugged.

“Where did they come from?” Gizz asked, her eyes big.

“Terra,” Visha replied as she refilled her mug. “Ever since the twenty-second century, fugitives, deposed warlords, separatists, cults, failed coups, and even some people who just wanted to live off the grid left Earth to live where the law couldn’t reach them. First, they went to the asteroid belt. Then when we spread to the asteroid belt, they went to Mars. When we expanded there, they pulled back to Jupiter. Eventually, they went where even we wouldn’t go, the cold dark, and set up housekeeping in the Kuiper belt. Nobody knows exactly how many there are, but some of them have been out there for almost a thousand years.”

“And the Republic just lets them?”

“Do you have any idea exactly how big the Kuiper belt is?” Visha asked. “And it’s said that the Kuipers go all the way to the edge of the heliosphere, maybe even beyond. Even with FTL and modern sensors, it’s just too much space to effectively patrol, much less try to take from some very well-armed people willing to fight you for it. Besides, why bother? The big ‘crimes’ that they might have committed are all Pre-Yellowstone, and most of the ‘criminals’ died of old age a long time ago. What you have now are a bunch of semi-nomadic tribes who just want to be left alone, so that’s what we do. We have a few trading posts set up so they can get medical care and trade for anything they might have felt the need to loot or steal in the past and take in any strays who want to come in out of the cold, but those are few and far between. We keep an eye on them, and if anything really fucked up is happening, we put a stop to it. But they do a pretty good job of that themselves. There are rules even in a ‘lawless’ society, especially if it will keep us out of their hair.”

“And this Quaoar?”

“It’s a big Plutoid out there,” Visha replied, “a mini-planet that isn’t in Sol’s official tour guide. On it are an assortment of warrior tribes who will do mercenary work for people who aren’t overly concerned with petty concerns like laws, mercy, or basic human decency… people like Sheloran, for example. If someone wants Terran-grade military operators, that’s one of the places you can look if you know the right people and have a LOT of cash. They don’t come cheap.”

“And Sheloran hired them?” Serugnktti asked as she extended her now empty mug.

“I never said that,” Visha said as she refilled the agent’s mug with a smile, “all I said is that rumor has it that someone hired them to kill every single Harkeen in the galaxy… and make it ugly.”

Visha shrugged.

“Maybe the Harkeen pissed someone else off, too?” she smiled.

***

“Are you on something?” a professionally dressed man asked accusingly over a holo-screen.

“Just a few drinks,” Serugnktti replied as she preened her feathers. “No big deal. I gotta blend in, right?”

“Where did you get alcohol in jail?”

“Trust me,” Serugnktti laughed, “You do NOT want to know. I just heard something yoooooou might find a little interesting...”

***

“And thus was the deal struck,” an elderly Plath said to a group of wide-eyed, beret-clad Plath gamers, “and the Caste Wars finally came to an end. The Seers, Navigators, and Builders all laid down their arms and joined with the forces of The Great Prophet, and with their aid, he built this world for us.”

“Is… is this true?” Illandrain gasped.

“I hope so,” Matron Suushan laughed, “Because if it isn’t, I’ve spent my life in a cult!”

“Us… The Plath… powerful?” Geelshan snorted. “I call poopsies on that one. There’s no way.”

“No...” Ulennona said, his pupils dilating thoughtfully, “It’s the truth. I don’t know how I know that it is, but I do. You have to admit it would explain a few things, like how we are so good at this.”

“What do you mean, good?” Horta scoffed, “We get our poopers kicked on the regular. Do you remember what the Warm Hearth Welcome Committee did to us last time?”

Everybody except Ulennona groaned.

“That’s just because they are from The Grey Ridges,” Ulennona said, waving his hands dismissively, “They are all probably pure—“

He trailed off into silence as his eyes dilated further, almost turning completely black.

“…blooded...” he continued in almost a trance.

He blinked and shook his head, his eyes returning to normal.

“You’re missing my point,” he continued, “Yeah, we get our butts kicked but only by Plath. When was the last time we lost to the AI?”

“Yeah, but that’s just the AI,” Jakkona, their tech, replied as he nibbled a muffin. “Those are cake.”

“Even Federation Fun Time?” Ulennona asked. “That’s supposed to be based on actual military simulation software.”

“That’s just marketing scum,” Jakkona scoffed, “I have never been able to confirm that it was ever actually used. It’s the best, sure, but don’t forget that it’s been modded to heck and back. Do you remember how slow and stupid the Terrans were out of the box? There is no way that could be anything close to real. We aren’t some squad of super soldiers. We’re just game pal commandos who can’t even crack the top-ten.”

“We made the top ten!” Geelshan protested.

“Yeah, for like a day,” Illandrain snorted. “Remember what happened next?”

“Pooping Dawnflower Avengers...” Geelshan grumbled, “They had to have been using an aim-bot.”

“Nope,” Jakkona replied. “We just suck.”

“You just missed the hack, that’s all,” Geelshan groused, “There is NO way that little miss ‘Charity is best pony’ pooping made that shot.”

“You were just derping around with your stupid gauss cannon less than a kilometer from her position,” Jakkona replied, “Even I could—“

He was interrupted by a beeping from one of his computers.

“No. Pooping. Way.” he said in complete shock.

“What?”

“This human smuggler just pinged us,” Jakkona said, breathing heavily, “And you won’t believe what he is trying to sell!”

“Like we can afford whatever it is,” Illandrain snorted. “We lost darn near everything in that last tournament. I SAID we shouldn’t bet so much!”

“We beat the Silkblossoms before,” Ulennona replied, “Their sudden improvement was… unanticipated. We aren’t completely broke. What are our human friends offering?”

“It’s a Paradise Globe!” Jakkona shouted, “It’s a pooping Paradise VT-2600, with a Vasquez Dynaflop minicomputer!”

“Prophet’s poop,” Geelshan gasped.

“And exactly how much do they want for it?” Illandrain asked dubiously.

“That’s the thing!” Jakkona exclaimed excitedly, “They got shafted by the buyer and just want to unload it. They say they need the cargo space. They just want fifty meters of silk!”

“Might as well be a kilometer,” Illandrain grumbled, “and stop trying to negotiate. You aren’t good at it. Move.”

Illandrain did a handspring and landed beside Jakkona.

“Illa,” Geelshan gasped desperately, “We need that simulator!”

“Geel, Horta,” Ulennona barked, “you live the closest! Call around, see what you can scrounge up.”

“On it!” Horta said with a strange sharp little trill he had never uttered before.

“Jakkona,” Ulennona said decisively, “make sure you run a full diagnostic on that scum before you two agree to anything. I’m going to hit the boards and see how much wild-forage we can move and if we can shift our library for some creds… NOW PEOPLE!!!”

Everyone started to scurry around urgently.

“I guess story time is over,” Suushan laughed as she started to tidy up the tea and muffins.

“I’m sorry, Matron,” Ulennona said, bending his knees and bowing his head respectfully, “Forgive us. We got carried away.”

“Nonsense,” Suushan chuckled, “Stories can wait. I guess this opportunity cannot?”

“Those Paradise rigs are hard to come by in the Republic!” Ulennona said, his eyes shining with excitement. “It’s professional grade gear, the sort of thing the Terrans use for their tournaments! It’s the closest thing to real besides real! It even uses force fields in its augmented reality scheme! We could have real recoil, real obstacles… We could ditch the helmets!… This rig would make us!”

“We could host games!” Illandrain shouted excitedly, “Cha-ching!”

“Cha-ching?” Suushan asked confusedly. “Is that some vile Terran oath?”

“She means we could make money with it, a LOT of money,” Ulennona explained. “IF we wanted to risk it,” he added with emphasis. “Let’s not make space on the mantle before the crops come in. First, we need to get that thing and make sure this isn’t a scam. I apologize again, Matron.”

“Oh, we are all friends here, so you can stop calling me that,” Suushan replied. “It makes me feel old…”

She smiled enigmatically.

“Call me, ‘Sister’.”

***

Out on the edge of the Plath system, a human smiled a predatory smile.

“Another mouse is nibbling at the cheese,” she said, “and it’s the FPS gamers they wanted.”

“Great,” a dark-haired man sitting in the command chair replied. “How many?”

“Five,” the woman replied.

“Outstanding,” the man replied, “That will complete the mission. Reel them in.”

He pressed an icon on one touchscreen in front of him.

“Number Three?” he said to the face that appeared on his display.

“Yeah?” a male voice replied over the channel.

“How is the cargo?”

“Still crying,” the man growled as he turned the camera to reveal a group of terrified mewling Plath huddled together in the corner. “All they do is cry. It’s gettin’ on my fukkin nerves!… I SAID SHADDUP!!!” the man yelled.

The dark-haired man sighed.

“I don’t think yelling at them will work, Number Three.”

“STOP FUKKIN’ CRYING, YOU LITTLE SHITS!!!”

“(sigh) Four?”

“Yes, One?” a pleasant female voice replied as the woman manning the helm looked up.

“Things are pretty quiet here. Could you please proceed to the cargo bay and relieve Number Three? He isn’t really a ‘people person,’ and we need to deliver the payload intact.”

“Ugh, I hate those things… so creepy, especially that one female, you know, the one with all the beads? Do we have to deliver all of them alive? You know they are going to cut open at least a couple of them.”

“Our orders are quite clear, Four,” Number One replied, “This is a live capture. Any deaths and our score will drop. I needn’t remind you what that means.”

“I’m telling you that the one with the beads is going to be a problem. My intuition enhancement—“

“Is experimental and has only ever really worked for Cassandra,” Number One replied, cutting her off. “and you are not her. Just go down there before Three snaps.”

“Yes, sir,” the woman replied and stood up, “On my way, Three!” she exclaimed as she strode from the bridge.

“Hey,” Number One said as she opened the hatch, “what are you doing with that? Go to the armory and swap it for a stunner.”

“Ugh...” Number Four said as she rolled her eyes. So much for that accident she planned. Score or not that… thing… needed to go away.

“I mean it, Four,” Number One said sternly, “not one casualty. That is a direct order.”

“Yes, sir.”