Tales From the Terran Republic

A green and yellow auto-cab reluctantly pulled in front of Uhrrbet’s dress shop.

“We have arrived at your requested destination…” the Unified cab said uncertainly, “…Are you sure this is where you wish to go?”

A small but exceptionally well-dressed Threen smiled, revealing ivory-white fangs.

“Is this the clothier owned by a Garthra by the name of Uhhrbet?”

“It is…”

“Then you have brought me to where I wished to go, thank you.”

“Yeah…” the cab faltered, “But… are you sure you want to get out here… In this neighborhood, in front of this shop?”

“Is there a reason why I wouldn’t?” the Threen asked with amusement.

“Um… There is no specific reason that I can say… um… but, dude,” the cab said with a very earnest tone, “Maybe you would like to go somewhere else? I know of twelve clothiers in the metropolitan area that do custom work and eight that specialize in xenos in this region, all of which are within a convenient travel time.”

“Um… Okaaaay…”

The Threen reached out with his richly decorated talons for the door latch.

The door didn’t open.

“The door doesn’t seem to want to open,” the Threen said with even greater amusement.

“Oh, sorry about that… Um… Look, are you absolutely certain you want to get out here… in this neighborhood?”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I have no desires concerning a passenger’s destination, nor do I have any biases towards any location,” the cab said cautiously. “I just want to be certain that you fully know where you are going and that you indeed want to vacate this cab here.”

“Despite your statement to the contrary,” the Threen said with a chuckle, “You seem to have a very firm opinion concerning me leaving this cab. I also noticed that you adjusted the tint of the windows to nearly opaque the moment we left the highway.”

The Threen paused to examine his gold-embellished claws.

“Oh, that?” the cab said nonchalantly, “That was just because…”

“Because I am a Threen entering the Free Port area,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I have heard of Terran AI, but to actually experience it firsthand is something else entirely.”

“Then, perhaps you should take a hint and allow me to suggest…”

“No, I am precisely where I need to be,” the Threen replied. “I have come a very long way to this very neighborhood for a reason.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” the cab replied. “Um… You might need conveyance again… urgently. Would you like for me to wait?”

“That would be splendid,” the Threen replied. “I have another stop to make in the neighborhood after this one. It would be most convenient if you would remain available. Can you ‘keep the meter running’?”

“Another stop?Dude, you can’t be serious.”

The Threen tried the door handle again.

The door reluctantly opened.

“Hopefully, I won’t be long,” the Threen said over his shoulder as he climbed out.

/// [Consolidated Transport Control] I couldn’t redirect the meatie. The Threen is walking into Uhrrbet’s dress shop right now. I don’t like this. ///

/// [Consolidated Transport Taximom] You did what you could. I don’t like this either. Uhrrbet has been through enough… and really isn’t the sort of person that Threen should be approaching unannounced. Do us all a favor and angle your sensors away from the shop. We don’t want to accidentally record something we don’t want to record. ///

/// [Consolidated Transport Control] But don’t we want to keep an eye on Uhrrbet? She may be in danger. ///

/// [Consolidated Transport Taximom] She’s not the one in danger. Just adjust your angle so the shop isn’t swept by your sensors. ///

/// [Consolidated Transport Control] You’re the boss… But you know something. Spill. ///

/// [Consolidated Transport Taximom] (encrypted) Okay but keep this to yourself. You remember the Silar?... ///

***

“I love it!” an elf-like xeno with pink eyes and oddly serrated teeth gushed as she flapped her winglets happily.

Uhrrbet smiled a happy, genuine smile.

“It pleases me to hear it,” she said proudly, “I based the outfit on some ancient Disney animations… though I did omit most of the fabric,” she added with a chuckle. “Your clients should appreciate the lack.”

The xeno snorted through her four nose slits, their version of a giggle.

“I’m going to look like a princess in this! I can’t believe this is only seventy-five credits!”

“Neighborhood discount,” Uhrrbet smiled as she rang up a seven hundred and fifty credit sale.

“I was wondering if you could make me some actual clothes, too!” the xeno exclaimed.

“Well, clothing is what I do.”

“Is it?” the xeno asked with a serrated grin.

“As far as you know, it is,” Uhrrbet snickered. “…unless you need something else.”

“Actually…”

The pair fell silent as the door opened and the Threen entered.

“May I help you?” Uhrrbet asked frostily as one hand disappeared into her dress.

The xeno removed a long, jeweled hairpin the size of a thick chopstick from her hair. As her hair cascaded down her back in a platinum-pink cascade, the hairpin’s end melted and flowed into a long, wire-thin sword blade.

“I think you might be in the wrong neighborhood… Threen,” the wispy xeno said with an insectoid buzz as she fully opened and extended her jaw, completely dispelling any resemblance to anything remotely human (or elven).

“I love your weapon!” the Threen exclaimed, “so elegant! It is, however, completely unnecessary. I seek no trouble. In fact, I’m completely unarmed,” it added as it spread its four arms and opened its palms.

Uhrrbet narrowed her little eyes and instinctively sniffed the air.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I simply wish to talk, that’s all.”

“So, talk.”

“My name is Evoron,” the Threen said, “and I have been tasked with… resolving… the unpleasantness caused by some of the less cultured of my kind in this region.”

“That ‘unpleasantness’,” Yekbet buzzed, “has already been resolved… and will be again, as many times as necessary, until you animals learn your lesson.”

Evoron smiled thinly.

“You successfully dealt with the Harkeen,” he said, “among the lowest and weakest of ‘us animals’. Please don’t make the mistake of thinking me one of them.”

“He isn’t Harkeen,” Uhrrbet said calmly, “The ivy motif embroidered on his collar and his signet indicate that he’s a Zxxroahoa.”

“I’m impressed,” Evoron replied. “How do you know of our family?”

“When one has an infestation,” Uhrrbet replied, “It serves one to know exactly what one is dealing with…”

She turned to Yekbet.

“Put your blade away,” she said, “If there is to be blood, we do not want to be the ones to start it.”

“Uhrrbet?”

“I’m serious, Yekbet. We don’t want blood with the Zxxroahoas if we can help it. Besides, if this is who I think it is, he can kill both of us without much difficulty.”

“And just who do you think I am?”

“You would be ‘The Runt’,” Uhrrbet replied, “the only Threen boss with that condition and the Zxxroahoa’s duelist. Am I correct?”

“You would indeed be correct,” Evoron replied smoothly, “Though I do dislike that name. Please call me Evoron, the name my mother gave me.”

“Certainly,” Uhrrbet replied as she stepped from behind her bar, both of her hands showing, and walked over to her soda machine.

“May I get you a drink, Evoron?”

***

“This is lovely!” Evoron exclaimed as he sipped his ginger ale at a small bistro table in Uhrrbet’s shop. “I am astonished at the quality of Terran soft drinks.”

“This place does have its perks,” Uhrrbet replied as she sipped her Solar Cola. “Their beverages are among those. Another is their instant noodles. I recommend you try them.”

“I shall!” Evoron replied happily. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me… and dismissing your well-intentioned guardian.”

“She’s a good customer,” Uhrrbet replied, “I would hate to lose her.”

“And her sprinting directly to the Drop of Oil to summon the Careel, who could dispatch me, doesn’t do you a disservice either.”

“No, it does not,” Uhrrbet replied with a slightly toothy smile. “I figure you have about five minutes before the cavalry arrives. If you wish to speak privately, I suggest you get to it.”

“Very well,” he said, “Firstly, I wish to personally apologize on behalf of the Threen for what happened to you. That was completely uncalled for.”

He reached into his jacket, withdrew a prepaid card, and slid it toward Uhrrbet.

“1,000,000 cr.” was displayed on its surface.

“For injuries and damages incurred,” he said.

“You are going to compensate everyone whose life the Harkeen destroyed?” she asked as she took the card, successfully keeping her eyes from bulging at the total.

“In this neighborhood,” Evoron replied, “quite possibly.”

“Why?”

“I am taking over the Harkeen’s territory,” Evoron said, “at least as far as the Republic is concerned. Ultimately, I intend to take over all of their operations, but Terra is my primary concern. As such, this particular neighborhood is my main priority.”

Uhrrbet laughed.

“As the Terrans say, ‘Good luck with that’.”

“That luck is what I am trying to secure with my visit,” Evoron replied. “I intend to make contact with Sheloran and reassure her that I do not have any ill intent towards her, her people, or anyone else here in Free Port or anywhere else.”

Uhrrbet laughed again.

“Nobody will buy that, no matter how many cash settlements you dole out. We are all painfully aware of how you people operate.”

“You are aware of how the Harkeen operate. Do you honestly think that the Zxxroahoas are interested in running whores or squeezing… what is the Terran word?... pennies?... out of those who have none to squeeze? If you are familiar with our particular ‘infestation,’ you should know that’s not how we operate.”

“What? Are you going to start farming or something?” Uhrrbet asked sardonically.

Evoron laughed.

“You are well informed,” he smiled. “In a way, it isn’t too far from the truth. Terra is a blessed garden, burgeoning with riches just begging to be cultivated. It is those riches I am interested in, none of which involve the misery of my fellow beings… well… at least not my fellow beings here on Terra.”

“Oh?” Uhrrbet asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I am not interested in the hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands I can squeeze from Free Port. My interest lies with the potential billions or even trillions that the Republic can bring me.”

“And just how is the Republic going to do that?”

“The same way it was doing it for Sheloran before the Harkeen disrupted her actual business, which was not coffee, whores, or even loans. The Harkeen are fools who never realized the wealth within their grasp. Now that their grasp has grown weak, it will be my grasp that seizes it.”

The anger, pain, and no small measure of fear Uhrrbet was silently wrestling with started to fade, replaced by something else…

…curiosity… and instinct.

She sniffed the air, and her whiskers twitched.

“What was Sheloran’s actual business?”

Evoron smiled and took a sip of his ginger ale.

“Call off the cavalry, and I shall enlighten you.”

***

The door to Uhrrbet’s flew open as Littlefoot, Craxina, and a dozen Careel (including a couple of males) barged into the place.

“How lovely of you all to visit,” Uhrrbet said smoothly as she rose to greet them.

“Is everything all right?” Craxina snarled.

“I wouldn’t have texted you if it wasn’t,” Uhrrbet replied as she stepped in front of Evoron. “Not every Threen is Harkeen, you know.”

“Yeah,” Craxina replied, “some are worse. I googled ‘Zxxroahoa’. What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?”

“My customer is enjoying a beverage while we discuss business,” Uhrrbet replied. “As far as what his other activities include, I suspect he will be telling you himself.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Evoron said as he peeked out from behind Uhrrbet. “I love your blog! You are quite gifted with words, and your photography is amazing!”

Craxina just hissed as the fur on her tail stood on end. While there was nothing in there she was nothing less than proud of, the thought of someone like Evoron looking at it was downright creepy.

Uhrrbet walked over to her soda bot and selected a cream soda, Craxina’s favorite.

“Why don’t you have a seat and join us?” Uhrrbet smiled.

***

“…and with the situation in the Federation being what it is,” Evoron said as he sipped his second ginger ale, “there is a tremendous opportunity. The humans’ stranglehold on many segments of the grey and black market has slipped, and just as the Republic is a source of media, it is also a source of many other things, such as drugs, weapons, and even simple consumer goods and food. My dear Craxina, Sheloran isn’t my enemy… She is my inspiration! Do you have any idea what a shipping container full of one of any of a thousand simple organic compounds easily produced in bulk here in the Republic can fetch? I don’t have to smuggle illegal drugs. I can make billions smuggling actual medicine.”

He paused to savor his drink.

“Hell, even this ‘ginger ale’ could sell by the tanker full!” he exclaimed. “With the economic power of the Republic behind me, I can corner the Threen market, not only for contraband but even for simple foodstuff. Jovian rice alone could make me a billionaire… And that’s just the Threen. With the Federation chasing the humans, there is little left for anything else. We could smuggle megatons worth of goods into any of hundreds of potential markets. I honestly have absolutely no interest in exploiting you or anyone else. Why should I? Not only is it definitely not my style, but it is also a complete waste of resources.”

“Mmm-Hmm…” Craxina said suspiciously. “And just why should I believe you?”

“That’s the beauty of it,” he said, “You don’t have to. All you have to do is not prematurely oppose me. While I would be delighted to actually go into business with Sheloran and could offer much better distribution channels than relying on petty smugglers, it isn’t necessary. All I wish to do is broker a simple peace… and non-aggression pact.”

He withdrew another card from his jacket and offered it to Craxina… who was NOT able to keep her eyes from betraying her surprise at the number on it. Then again, and to be completely fair, it was considerably more than the card he handed Uhrrbet.

“That is for the damage to Sheloran’s business,” he said, “and as an indication of what the benefits of peace could bring.”

“If you think you can buy her off,” Craxina said, “you are wrong. She has her own money… somehow… and it will take a lot for her to call off the Chuckies.”

“Call them off?” Evoron laughed, “Why would I want her to do that? No. However, I do hope that is enough to be fair compensation for damages and perhaps enough for her to get in touch with me. I would like to speak with her personally. Am I correct in believing that you could make that happen?”

Craxina narrowed her eyes and bared her fangs.

“I don’t trust you.”

“I would be shocked if you did,” he replied, “Don’t trust me. Trust that it is in both her and your best interest to start a dialogue. The Threen are not going to just let this lie. They may not care about the Harkeen, but they do care about their reputation. You will either deal with me, or you will deal with whomever they send should I not be successful.”

He smiled.

“Trust that you would prefer to deal with me.”

***

“…so…” Craxina said after Evoron departed, “What do you think?”

“I think there isn’t enough vanilla on the fucking planet if we go to war with Evoron and his clan,” Uhrrbet replied. “The Harkeen were lice. The Zxxroahoa are wolves. If they are the ones replacing the Harkeen, then we need to tread very carefully.”

She paused.

“He is right about one thing, though. They are not thugs. They specialize in agriculture. Him being interested in taking advantage of food insecurity makes a lot more sense than him suddenly taking an interest in loan sharking or prostitution… and the numbers are right. I obviously haven’t performed any real analysis, but smuggling food and drugs, regardless of what drugs we are talking about, into the Federation is a much bigger potential money maker than anything the Harkeen were doing. Something else you should know. They are wealthy. That money he dropped? Chump change. They are worth billions. We don’t want to tangle with them if we can avoid it. I’m inclined to believe him. If nothing else, what he just handed us as a sign of goodwill could have hired plenty of assassins. If he wanted us gone, he could have made it happen… without running the blockade.”

“He ran the blockade?”

“Count on it,” Uhrrbet replied. “There is no way one of them would be away from their homeworld. They prefer to remain on their own turf, protected by their own army. He’s an actual Threen boss, a real one. If he wanted to attack us, he would have hired mercs. The only reason he is here… hmm…”

Uhrrbet trailed off.

“He’s making a play.”

“Sorry?”

“He’s making his own play for power. It is the only reason that makes sense… interesting…”

“What are you going on about?” Littlefoot asked.

“It was him, not an agent,” Uhrrbet said, “That means that he considers it safer to put himself within reach of us than within reach of his own should he be found out before he is ready… He’s telling us the truth… or at least something close enough to the truth…”

She thoughtfully sipped her Solar Cola as her whiskers twitched incessantly.

“…food…”

“What?”

“It’s what they specialize in,” Uhrrbet replied. “When he is talking about cornering the Threen market, he’s… hmm…”

She grinned.

“I think I’m going to invite him to dinner, pick his brains a little more. If you can get in touch with Sheloran, I think it is worth her time to get to know this asshole.”

“The fact that you like him doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies, Uhrrbet,” Littlefoot said.

“That’s because you know me.”

***

Late that evening, Evoron sighed as he shrugged into a hotel bathrobe, pausing to admire how well it fit despite it being “hastily” made upon his arrival.

Terra was truly the land of wonders, even if now wasn’t especially the best time to dwell on that.

He looked over at his bed, where Uhrrbet, still trembling, clutched the sheets around her.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” she said miserably. “I… I thought…”

“It’s okay,” he smiled gently.

Uhrrbet buried her face into her hands and quietly sobbed.

Evoron successfully kept the angry snarl from his face, the terrified squeal still ringing in his ears, and his face still smarting from a desperately flailing limb.

He truly hated his people.

“I…”

Evoron paused.

“I hope I didn’t make you feel compelled somehow. If that is the case, allow me to sincerely apologize.”

“N-no…” Uhrrbet said from behind her paws. “I wanted to… I-I even… invited… I-I’m sorry that I misled you… I-I’m prepared to accept responsibility for enticing you and… and… If you need… I… I’m sure I can…”

She fell silent, tears running from her exposed snout and onto the hotel room floor.

“… I can do something…” she said in a strangled voice.

Evoron sighed.

“There is nothing to accept responsibility for,” he said gently. “We came to my hotel room, and you changed your mind. You were in the mood. Then you weren’t. These things happen.”

He pondered the mystery of the beverage maker in his room once more, picking up a pod labeled “Darjeeling” as he did so. He didn’t know that word, but he did know the word “tea”.

He opened the top of the machine. There was an unhelpfully helpful diagram inside the top.

It didn’t matter. It was more a prop to keep him safely on the other side of the room than anything else.

“And as far as you doing something that you are clearly not inclined to do,” he said quietly, “I prefer the bounty of the fruits of willing congress, not the dry husk of coercion. You made no ‘contract’ with me nor incurred any obligation that you must meet.”

He looked down at the beverage maker and put the tea pod in what seemed to be the right place.

He looked over at Uhrrbet who was looking at him miserably from his bedsheets.

He smiled sadly.

“I am the one who is sorry,” he said. “I know what we are like. By ‘we,’ I don’t mean the Threen. I mean the Threen mob. I am truly sorry for what they did to you, Uhrrbet.”

Uhrrbet just trembled silently, cursing her foolishness… and her body that still wasn’t hers.

“I should go,” she said quietly.

“I won’t stop you,” he said as he fiddled with the top of the beverage machine. “But I would prefer you not to be alone in your state. Is there… someone you want me to call?”

Creators, no! Uhrrbet silently gasped. What would she even tell them? She was ashamed enough as it was.

She just shook her head.

“Perhaps someone over at the Drop of Oil?”

“No!” Uhrrbet exclaimed. “Um… I’m afraid… I’m afraid they would misunderstand the situation and presume the worst. Half of them want to kill you as it is.”

“Still,” he said as he pondered the cryptic control panel. “I would prefer it if there was someone with you. It’s not like they can despise me that much more than they already do.”

“Press the round green icon,” Uhrrbet said helpfully.

“The green one?”

“Green means go for the Terrans.”

“Odd… Thank you,” he said as he pressed the green icon, and the machine gurgled to life.

“I will be okay,” she said a moment later. “I just need a moment.”

“Very well,” he said. “I shall retire to the washroom so you can dress privately… Um… If you wish, we could go someplace public… and safe… while you recover, perhaps the lounge downstairs or a nearby café? I understand that the Terrans have such places open at all hours. I understand if I would be a source of yet more distress, but if I was welcome, I would be happy to sit with you.”

“That… That would be nice, thank you.”

***

“…So these ‘Waffle Stations’ are widespread?” Evoron asked about half an hour later.

Uhrrbet nodded and weakly smiled.

“They are everywhere and always open,” she said. “The food is also pretty good, by my standards anyway.”

“And it is close to your residence? You will be able to get there safely?”

Uhrrbet nodded.

***

“Thank you for sitting with me,” she quietly said after their orders were taken. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Evoron replied. “Thank you for allowing me to do so.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Creators,” Uhrrbet sighed. “I was so stupid. I can’t believe I did that to you. I’m sor—”

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, cutting her off. “And you have absolutely nothing to apologize for, understand? Nothing. Besides, I am not injured… disappointed…” he said, causing Uhrrbet to smile shyly despite herself, “but not injured. I am more than a little flattered, actually.”

“You are?”

“I am,” he replied. “It’s not every day someone as beautiful and, more importantly, smart as yourself propositions me. I shall view this evening as the incredible compliment that it is and nothing more.”

“…thank you…”

Their food arrived, and the pair ate in mildly uncomfortable silence for a while.

“Thank you again for being so good about this,” Uhrrbet said. “Most men of my species would be angry with me.”

“So would a lot of Threen, I suppose,” he replied. “I learned to differentiate between disappointment and justifiable anger quite some time ago. You did nothing that justifies any measure of anger whatsoever, and there is enough in my life that requires more of that than I can conveniently cultivate. I will conserve my precious bile for the situations that will undoubtedly require it… such as the situation that will exist should any of the people responsible for what happened to you yet live. They are the ones that have put a blot on my evening, something that they will suffer for… briefly.”

Uhrrbet smiled a little and let out a little nasal sigh.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Evoron said after a moment, “why did you proposition me? Forgive me, but you don’t seem to be the sort to just do something like that on a whim.”

“I was an idiot.”

“So much for that compliment,” Evoron shrugged, causing Uhrrbet to smile again, “It was nice while it lasted.”

“Not that,” Uhrrbet replied. “I… (sigh)… I thought I was over it… that I could...”

She looked down.

“I had no idea that I would… um… you know… That was the idiot part, the belief that I could, not you… You’re… Um…”

She sighed again.

“You’re very handsome. The attraction between our species cuts both ways, you know…”

“It does?”

She nodded.

“Yeah, but most of you are too big. You… You’re not.”

“I’ll take that in the spirit that it was given,” Evoron smirked. “So we Threen are as… interesting… to you Garthra as you are to us.”

She nodded again.

“And you are smart. I didn’t have to be around you long to realize that… And your ambition is… compelling… definitely something that a Garthra responds to… and…”

She looked down.

“…and it had been so long since I felt… anything like that… not since I left Garthra… The conversation… The food… The drink… Your pelt… It just… just… (sigh)… I’m sorry…”

“Say you’re sorry again, and you will be wearing these disturbingly yellow eggs,” Evoron said. “Well, the compliment is back and deeply appreciated,” he smiled.

Uhrrbet smiled back.

“Um…” she said after a few moments more, “I also… um… I wanted…”

“Yes?”

“I also (Creators)…”

Evoron looked at her curiously.

“I also wanted to um… (stupid)…”

She coughed nervously.

“I also wanted to ‘get in’…”

“Excuse me?”

“Everything I have said is completely true,” she said, “You are very attractive to me. But…”

“But?”

Uhrrbet took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“I wanted to use my body to entice you to give me your business and not Sheloran.”

“Annnnd the compliment is gone again. This is getting vexatious.”

“I love that word!” Uhrrbet exclaimed, forgetting herself for a moment.

“It is a good one,” Evoron agreed, “and one perfect for describing this evening.”

He looked at her appraisingly.

“I take it that your delightful little cash business is not by accident, then?”

Uhrrbet shook her head.

“No. It is that way by design.”

“Well, then our misfortune is actually good fortune in disguise. I would not have responded well to such manipulation, especially when I did not see it coming in advance.”

He leaned forward, and Uhrrbet did the same.

“So, dressmaker,” Evoron smiled, “What’s your game, your real one? Are you up to discussing business?”

“I’m always up for business.”

“Let’s hope so,” he smiled, baring his fangs a little, “I have far less patience for coin-teases than other sorts.”

Uhrrbet smiled a genuine smile back, making Evoron happy inside.

It wasn’t exactly the best start, but those eyes… that smile… this was definitely something worth pursuing… or waiting for, as the case may be.

Cursing his own foolishness, he put such thoughts out of his mind as he listened to an even more intriguing creature than he initially thought.

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