Tales From the Terran Republic

“Oh, dear...” Craxina said as she tried to keep a pleasant demeanor.

Standing in front of her in a pretty “dress” was perhaps the most horrific thing she had ever seen.

“So, you are interested in becoming… a sex worker?” Craxina asked, desperately trying not to scream… or laugh. Everyone was welcome here… nominally…

“Oh yes!” the thing exclaimed happily, the dozens of eyes in its chitinous head dominated with huge mandibles, like a solifugid (but a tad bit more aggressive looking) sparkling excitedly.

It bounced up and down on its multiple hairy legs covered with coarse hairs and long vicious spines.

“I heard that it’s a great way to make money!” the monstrosity in a floral sundress chirped with a surprisingly pleasant voice. “And… I just think humans are so cute!”

“Yes… they are that...” Craxina replied with a polite smile as she struggled to maintain eye contact. Holy Christ on a Popsicle stick, that thing was scary. Craxina fought an instinctive urge to flee.

“And…” the horror said as it leaned in close, causing Craxina to tremble slightly, ”I just love porn!” it whispered. “We don’t have porn where I’m from, and I think it’s amazing!”

She(?) hopped up and down, causing her “sun dress” to flutter, and squealed. “It looks like so much fun!… I’ve been taking notes!”

By the elder groves… grant me grace, courage, and wisdom. Craxina silently prayed in horror as she got a peek at what was under the dress. (It wasn’t good.)

“But… are you sure?” Craxina asked with a “friendly” smile firmly adhered to her face. “You know, sex work isn’t for everyone. And if your culture doesn’t even have pornography...”

“Oh, that’s just because we don’t need it!” the thing exclaimed, vibrating her posterior. “We just love sex! We do it all the time, and if someone wants to watch, they can watch! They can even join in! There’s nothing I love more than a mating ball! Sometimes dozens of us join in… and when mating season hits, it gets really freaky!”

The chitinous terror giggled.

Craxina twitched as her very good imagination pictured that for a few moments.

“I don’t even know who my parents are! I hatched under a park bench!” she giggled, “I’m a mating season bastardbrat!” she added proudly. “Fucking is literally in my blood!”

“Well, you seem well suited for it… emotionally…” Craxina replied, the smile still firmly glued to her maw. “But, and forgive for this…” she said, “But your species...”

“We are called the Vrrrkk###t!” she said cheerfully, “But the humans call us the Nope!”

“Ah… the ‘Nope’...” Craxina replied. “That’s certainly...”

“I know, right?” the Nope giggled. “It was the first word one of them said when they encountered us! “

“Yes...” Craxina said as diplomatically as she could, “And once again, forgive me for asking this… but are you certain that you and humans are… um… physically compatible? I hate to ask, but it’s just that your physiology is a bit...”

Craxina trailed off as she carefully considered her words.

“It’s just, at first glance, not similar to a human’s.”

“Oh, don’t worry!” the Nope replied happily, “I’ve been taking notes and have parts!”

She started to raise her “sun dress”.

Oh, Creators, please, no.

“See?” the Nope asked happily as she displayed… an orifice… surrounded by inward pointing barbed spines. “That’s where the male’s breeding spike goes, and it’s about the same size… and we do oral too!… And I’m really good! All the males love it back home!… and I’ve been practicing! Check this out!”

The Nope happily reached into her satchel and pulled out an appropriately sized wooden rod. She spread her prehensile outer mandibles wide revealing a…

AiEEEEEeeeeEEEeeee! Craxina silently screamed...

Round opening completely ringed with hundreds of small fangs, all of them eagerly wiggling...

She slid the wooden rod into her mouth and...

Whirrrrrr

Sawdust started to fly from her maw as Craxina looked on in horror.

The Nope pulled out the rod, now intricately carved.

“And they are impressed with tying a cherry stem in a knot!” it scoffed.

Craxina sighed.

“I see...” she said as kindly as she could, “what’s your name?”

“My human name is Charlotte!”

“Charlotte…” Craxina said gently, “everybody is welcome here—“

“I know!” Charlotte exclaimed. “That’s why I came!… It’s… It’s been kind of hard here...”

She drooped slightly.

“And I haven’t made many friends… or any friends really… I thought I had some friends, but… I didn’t… But then I saw this place on the news! And there were all sorts of beings of all kinds! And you said all were welcome, and I just came here as fast as I could!…”

Charlotte trailed off as she looked at Craxina’s face.

“I… I’m not welcome… am I?”

She started to make a strange keening sound, and Craxina’s instincts took over.

“No!” Craxina exclaimed, literally crawling over her desk. “I mean, yes!” Craxina shouted as she wrapped her arms around the distressed Nope. ”Everybody is welcome here, Charlotte!”

“I… I am?” the Nope asked with a quivering voice.

“Sure you are!” Craxina replied. “Everybody is welcome here! I’m not sure if you are a good fit for sex work… maybe… But you have a home here, and you will have friends, and you will have a job!”

“R-really?”

“Absolutely!” Craxina replied, temporarily oblivious to exactly what she had her arms around.

“However…” Craxina laughed, “we need to cover a few… details… concerning human physiology before I let you anywhere near a client!”

“Oh, thank you!” Charlotte squealed happily. “I’ve been so lonely!”

“Well, that’s over now,” Craxina replied firmly as she hugged the Nope tightly…

and then realized exactly what she was hugging and yelped a little bit…

but didn’t let go.

“Hey, Craxi!” Littlefoot said as she entered Craxina’s tent. “The Sheloran is— AAAH!”

“Littlefoot,” Craxina said happily, “this is Charlotte!”

“Hello!” Charlotte exclaimed happily, “I’m so happy to meet you! I’m going to be a whore!”

“You are?”

“Actually, Charlotte,” Craxina laughed, “you are going to be a barista… at least until you stop spitting sawdust.”

“Aww.”

“Don’t worry,” Craxina smiled, patting Charlotte on the back. “If you really want to do sex work, I’m sure we can figure out something that won’t rip our customer’s dicks off… But until then, stick to coffee.”

“Ok!”

Craxina turned to Littlefoot.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” she asked.

“What?” Littlefoot asked, “… Oh yeah! The Sheloran is down. It looks like the reactor died again.”

“Again?!?” Craxina exclaimed with frustration. “Ok, I’ll call Jamal...”

She turned to Charlotte.

“Right after we get our new friend set up.”

Charlotte bounced up and down happily. She had been so lonely since she left home.

Maybe, just maybe, she had finally found friends!

***

A fifty-foot tall column of light appeared, which rapidly morphed into a giant Sheloran.

“Craxina!” It bellowed, “Put on some pooping clothes!”

“Yay!” Craxina cheered as she threw herself at a faintly haggard and disheveled looking dusky-skinned man who could be anywhere between the ages of thirty and fifty.

“Don’t thank me,” Jamal smiled, “Thank Dusty over there,” he said, gesturing to a pale, unnaturally tall black haired woman leaning against a small, rather beat up looking shuttle that was now connected to “Sheloran” with thick cables. “She was the one with the lightning bug.”

“You are a lifesaver!” Craxina enthused as she accepted a tablet from Dusty, “I can’t thank you en-… ooh...” she trailed off as she looked at the tablet unhappily.

She looked up at Dusty with big eyes.

“That’s more than Jamal’s reactor, and his is bigger, way bigger!”

“Price is the price,” Dusty shrugged.

“But why so much?”

“Going pay for these KVA,” Dusty replied with a Lunar drawl. “You don’t want them, someone else does.”

“I just don’t understand, that’s all,” Craxina pouted.

“And that’s why you are talking to me in the first place,” Dusty replied with a not entirely friendly smile. “They don’t teach basic electricity where you come from?” she added with an all too familiar smug tone.

“No,” Craxina replied in a small voice as she looked down. “But we do offer extended studies in cuntology,” she said as she looked back up with a snarl and a gleam in her eyes, “You’d have no problem getting one of our certificates… bitch.”

Dusty let out a laugh as Jamal snickered.

“I see why you like her,” she said to Jamal. “Ok, here’s the deal,” she said as she turned back to Craxina. “Your girl here,” she said as she pointed up at Sheloran, “is one filthy bitch.”

“Exfuckingcuse me?!?” Craxina squeaksnarled.

“The holo-projector,” Dusty laughed, “As far as power is concerned, these things are horrible, worse than auto-turrets, even worse than laser printers. No way you can run it and the rest of your load with the reactor you have, no matter what the label plate says.”

“But Samantha said that it would work,” Craxina whined.

Dusty looked over at Jamal quizzically.

“The local Luna Promotions sales rep,” Jamal replied with the same expression he would have if he found a turd in his Pho. “A real ‘Dome Twelve’. You’d love her.”

“She said that they ran them off of portable reactors all the time,” Craxina said glumly as she handed the signed tablet to Dusty.

“Yeah,” Dusty replied, “dedicated ones, Lunar ones… with big ass filters. You need a reactor rated for energy weapons or concerts for your girl.”

She patted her shuttle fondly.

“Like this one,” she said proudly.

I just wanted to sell coffee... the Great Sheloran sighed.

“Is that why it’s so expensive?”

“That,” Dusty grinned, “and a certain ‘availability fee’.”

“You mean a ‘you got me grabbing all of my ankles fee’?” Craxina replied sourly.

“That would be the one,” Dusty chuckled.

“With everything going on,” Jamal said, “flying reactors, especially ones rated for ‘Sheloran’ like hers, are in short supply. Dusty came all the way from Luna, and I was lucky to get her. If you want Sheloran back up right away, it’s either her or… Well, if you want Sheloran up and running, it’s just her. She isn’t fucking you too bad, though. She could probably be making more on Luna or out in the system somewhere.”

“I saw your ad,” Dusty laughed. “I wanted to check you guys out. Besides, I need some real G’s and some real food. Speaking of,” she said as she tossed a key fob to Jamal, “that Cuban place still good?”

“You know it.”

“Alright,” she replied. “Take care of my baby. I’m out.”

With a laugh and a wave, she sauntered off.

“What a bitch,” Craxina smiled. “I like her.”

***

As the day drew to a close, Jamal carefully bent a superconductor and measured the shape with a vernier caliper.

He frowned. He was off by 2 millimeters.

He was getting sloppy.

He shrugged. It would still fit. He had become comfortable with his mediocrity.

He took the superconductor and leaned into a large open electrical cabinet, destined to be “Sheloran’s” new power supply, leaning against his van. He slid it into place, wiggling it so it would fit. He then pulled out a soldering iron and a rod of superconducting solder.

He was about to start the meticulous process of a zero-ohm solder joint when he felt as if he was being watched.

He turned his head.

He was. He found himself looking into the big glittering black eyes (and her extra two smaller ones) of Honx, one of the “ponies”.

Her again?

“I brought you some coffee!” Honx said brightly.

“Thanks...” Jamal replied a little dubiously. “Just put it over there with the other cups of coffee you brought me, you know, the ones I haven’t drunk yet?”

“Oh,” Honx said, her short prehensile “snoot” drooping, “ok.”

As she glumly took the cup over to his work table, Jamal sighed.

“Is there something you want?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said quietly.

Jamal put the soldering iron down and flipped up his scanning/safety visor.

“It’s a sin to waste food,” he said with a gentle smile, “or coffee.”

He stood up, stretched his back, walked over to the table, and picked up a cup.

“What?” he smiled.

“(chuff) I… um...” Honx twisted her snoot anxiously, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“(chuff) It’s about your reactors,” Honx asked uncertainly, “Why (chuff)… I mean, how are they so small? A Federation reactor has to be almost fifty percent larger for the same power output.”

“Oh, lots of reasons,” Jamal said as he leaned against the table. “One, our technology is better… a lot better… when it comes to small reactors. Hell, even the Juon copy ours.”

“Really?” Honx asked in amazement. “I thought that the Federation had better technology.”

Jamal let loose a genuine laugh.

“They don’t, not when it comes to these anyway,” he said, patting his reactor. “The other reason why the Federation’s are so much larger comes down to manufacturing, materials, design philosophy, operator training, and a whole bunch of other things.”

He sipped his coffee.

“The biggest reason,” he smiled, “is that nobody makes better reactors than the Republic. Our reactors are what make the Republic able to do what it does,” he said proudly.

“Yes, but… How do you do it?” Honx asked excitedly.

“Well…” Jamal chuckled a bit condescendingly, “it would take a while to explain, and it’s a bit… complicated for someone like you.”

“Oh!” Honx replied, a bit crestfallen, “… ok… sorry for troubling you.”

Her snoot drooped, and she turned to slink away.

Jamal sighed, silently calling himself the asshole that he just was.

“Hey… Honx, right?”

Honx stopped and turned around.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“What?”

“I just dismissed you and assumed you were incapable because of what you are, not who you are. That’s not cool,” he said. “Same thing happened to me. People only see your ‘card’ and that you are ‘just a worker’, and not an apprentice and assume you aren’t worth their time. And later, when you finally do become an apprentice, another group of assholes won’t bother with you because you aren’t a journeyman. I hated assholes like that, and here I am being one.”

He gestured her over.

“So,” he smiled, “what do you want to know?”

***

“That’s incredible!” Honx exclaimed as she stared into the now deactivated and partially disassembled reactor (Jamal was going to take it down for some much needed preventative maintenance since Dusty’s reactor was here anyway), “but… but… how do you both contain the neutron flux and convert it to electricity with the same field? That’s insane!”

“Basic QFT,” Jamal chuckled as he drank his now cold cup of coffee, “Sorry. I keep forgetting you don’t know our abbreviations. It’s basic quantum field theory. When it hits the field, it transfers its KE directly to the electromagnetic field, causing a cascade of virtual particles whose only path back to vacuum state is at the collectors. This translates to a real difference of potential, and there you go. The field is the ‘conductor,’ so to speak, though there is no ‘real’ voltage until you actually reach the superconductors.”

Jamal smiled.

“That’s where the real reduction in weight and size comes from,” he said, “Why fuck around with extra ‘collectors’ and ‘conductors’ when you already have them built right into the physics?”

“And… and and,” Honx babbled, her eyes aglow, “how do you handle the excess potential?”

“You can either store it in caps or batts,” he replied, “or just keep the electromagnetic field elevated locally for a bit. You can hold a lot of potential there. If you have to dump it, we can throttle back the fusion rate, slowly convert the elevated field back into KE, and push it into the fusion plasma. That way, we don’t need all those heat sinks, further cutting weight. If we are ever at the point that we actually have to dump waste heat to the outside, something has gone really wrong, and we hit the fail-safes, probably because the reactor is actually broken.”

“Wow!” Honx exclaimed. “and you do all of that through quantum field manipulation?”

“It’s just simple math,” Jamal replied. “not that I actually do much of that. Most of that is built in. I just have to know enough to properly calibrate things. Good familiarity with theory is also a must for a troubleshoot.”

He looked at Honx appraisingly.

“Speaking of,” he said with an odd tone in his voice. “you have a surprisingly good grasp on things for a Fed, no offense.”

Honx snootled.

“Considering many of my peers,” she chucklesnorted, “none taken. I was a tender for a family back home, and some of the males and females were engineers. I used to sneak peeks at their books and the education materials for the children when nobody was looking.”

“I strongly suspect that if you keep talking, I’m going to get pissed off at your people,” Jamal replied.

“Probably...” Honx said sadly. “they could be… unkind…”

“...”

Jamal clenched his jaw. He had heard so many horror stories since he delivered his reactor to this weird place.

There were a whole lot of asses and not enough boots.

“You have been so patient and kind,” Honx said, “please do not let courtesy detain you. However, I do have another question if you are inclined.”

“I got time.”

“I see that you are… constructing something,” Honx said, “from individual components?”

“Yeah,” Jamal replied, “Dusty isn’t going to keep her lightning bug parked here forever. I’m building ‘Sheloran’ here a proper power supply, so she doesn’t keep backfeeding garbage into my power regulator.”

“Why?” Honx asked, “I am truly impressed by the feat, something that most engineers could not achieve back home, but why don’t you just buy one?”

“From where?” Jamal laughed. “Good luck finding one these days. I have no choice, not that I mind. It’s easy money.”

“I thought that the Republic’s industrial might was vast,” Honx replied. “Is there not a factory among all of the thousands in this system that is not making them?”

“Once upon a time, there was,” Jamal said with an odd tone in his voice, “but that was before the bug. It might not look like it, but we are still ’at war’. All those factories? They are running full-tilt but let’s just say they aren’t making as much for the consumer market as they used to. Same goes for the Empire. Our economy is still as mobilized as it can be and still sustain something vaguely resembling normalcy… if you don’t look too closely. That means that you can get groceries, clothes, and a new holo for your living room… from the Empire…, but good luck getting any commercial or industrial equipment or even a new car. If you want to buy new, you are going to have to put in a special order and be prepared to wait a bit.”

He looked skyward.

“The bug is coming again,” he snarled, “and when they do, we will be waiting for them… or be paying them a visit first. I might not fly a fighter or run around in power armor, but I do keep a pile of second-hand reactors running so the new ones can go where they need to. And, when that day comes, I will, once again, raise my hand and enter the heart of a dragon, bringing fire and death to those who would harm us.”

“You fought in the Great War?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you—“

“I don’t talk about it,” Jamal replied curtly as he looked away.

“I’m sorry if I have caused you any distress,” Honx said, afraid that he would never talk to her again.

“You weren’t the one who caused the distress, kid,” Jamal replied. “I just don’t like to talk about it, that’s all.”

Jamal cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, “would you like to see how we do power supplies?”

“Yes, please!”

***

“She’s freaky looking, but I like her already,” a human man in a stained apron said to Craxina. “Good thing I actually like spiders.”

“Well, that’s a relief!” Craxina replied. “She sounded so lonely.”

“She keeps doing what she’s doing today,” the man replied, “and I’ll steal her for myself.”

“Don’t you dare!” Craxina laughed. “Poach one more of my workers, and I’ll sic Sheloran on you!”

“Oh no!” the guy laughed, “I’ll be good! I promise!”

He smiled and shook his head.

“I still remember the day she got busted in the parking lot of my shop,” he chuckled. “I couldn’t believe it! Of course, it all makes sense now...”

They laughed.

A mechanical arm cautiously opened the tent flap.

“Craxina?” Baxlon asked in a nervous, frightened, voice, “Do you have a minute.”

“What the fuck do you want, incel?” Craxina snapped.

***

“How do you know so much about this stuff?” Jamal asked.

“I’m sorry!” Honx exclaimed.

“About what?”

“Learning when I’m not supposed to!” Honx exclaimed, “I’ll stop!”

“Don’t you dare!” Jamal said firmly, “You don’t need anyone’s permission to learn anything! I was just impressed, that’s all.”

“Mytube!” Honx exclaimed happily. “It’s so wonderful!… And I look up a lot of stuff online! I even subscribed to one of those kit programs, you know, the ones for your children? I really look forward to my Tinkerbox every month!”

She laughed.

“That’s about my level,” she giggled, “I’m on par with one of your children now!”

“Not too shabby,” Jamal replied. “Are you happy here?”

Honx sighed and paused for a few moments.

“I’m safe, and I have enough money to live well,” she replied, “and I have friends… It’s very close to the family I lost… And what I do isn’t bad… or unpleasant… not anymore… I suppose I’m ‘happy’...”

“So if I, for example, offered you a job, you wouldn’t be interested?”

“What?!?”

“You think I’ve spent the entire afternoon talking to you just to be nice?” Jamal laughed. “Halfway through our tour of the reactor, this stopped being about you and started being about me needing an extra set of hands. You’ve been on a job interview for hours, Honx. It would probably be one hell of a pay cut. You won’t get rich being a helper, but it will be a livable wage, training, and, of course, a union card. Once you get that card, that is what people go by. Whether or not you have a certificate no longer matters.”

“But, I’m not trained,” Honx replied, a bit stunned, “and I don’t have my certificate.”

“You’ve shown me that not only can you be trained, but you want to be,” he smiled. “You really dig this stuff and I like that. As far as your certificate goes,” he chuckled, “Like I said before, times have changed. In a lot of ways, we are still at war. We need every single skilled person we can get, and Everybody’s short-handed. ‘Building’ techs is every bit as important as building warships, Honx. I have had an ad out for an apprentice or a helper for over a year and a half and can’t get anyone, well, anyone worth a fuck. So… job’s open. Want it?”

“Yes!” Honx exclaimed, prancing around on all four of her hooves.

“Great!” Jamal replied. “You’re hired. Now give me a hand with these work lights. We’re going to be here awhile.”