Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter Sheloran the Loan Shark and Caw Makes a Phone Call

“You had better get your pathetic little notes ready, you malformed gelatin!” Caw said cheerfully to Karashel as they walked back into the Xx embassy.

“Oh I will, you blue-crested peckerhead!” Karashel said with a laugh. “Prepare to get knowledged!”

Laughing they entered the lobby.

“So did you stop them?” one of the guards asked with a flick of his crest.

“You better fucking believe it!” Caw crowed as he walked past. “The humans were going to blow it up, you know.”

“What?!?” the guard screeched. “What did you do?”

“Not a progenitor-cursed thing!” Caw replied over his shoulder as he and Karashel, still laughing, walked off.

“Wait!” the guard screeched, abandoning his post as it sprinted after them.

***

“Saving the archives sure works up a thirst,” Karashel said as they turned towards their offices. “Want to hit the canteen? There is a juice box calling my name! I just love the purple ones!”

“I would love to,” Caw replied, “but I gotta… um… take care of something first.”

“One of those ‘um’ things?”

“Yeah... I gotta do an ‘um’.”

“Well I guess I could call my mom first,” Karashel replied. “She is probably sliming the floor by now.”

“You are a disgusting species, you know?”

“You’re one to talk,” Karashel laughed.

“What do you mean? We are the height of beauty and grace.”

“Oh you’re pretty,” Karashel replied. “I’m talking about your smell.”

“Are you saying we stink?!?”

“I have olfactory pits and taste buds all over my foot,” Karashel grinned. “I thought my mother’s organic gardening phase was bad! Do you guys ever wash your feet?”

“You taste wherever you walk? That’s disgusting!”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Karashel laughed.

“Just when I thought my opinion of the Baleel couldn’t drop any further...” Caw snickered. “Well I gotta… um… do stuff.”

“Have fun with the ‘um’. I gotta go calm down my mom,” Karashel smiled. “For some reason she thinks my life is dangerous or something… Maybe I’ll skip where we spent the afternoon.” ŖаɴỐ𐌱Ěṥ

“Good idea,” Caw chuckled. “I’ll come get you when the ‘um’ is over.”

“Cool.” Karashel said as she undulated into her office.

***

Caw chuckled as he entered his office.

“Blue-crested peckerhead,” he snickered. “I like that one.”

He sat down at his desk and activated his holo-monitor. He then accessed their diplomatic hyperspace relay.

A few minutes later the insectoid face of the matriarch appeared.

“Caw!” the matriarch exclaimed. “How is my favorite feathered friend?”

“Quite well!” Caw replied. “I just had someone declare a Xvakk’Lok on my ass!”

“Ooooo! It’s on!” the matriarch buzzed happily.

“Indeed it is! I just had an upstart lesser race tell me I’m full of shit!”

“You face an uphill battle, my friend!”

Caw screeched with laughter.

“Damn, this one’s going to be harder than I thought,” he snickered.

“So, what can I do for you?” the matriarch asked.

“Actually, I’m the one supplying you with information this time.”

“Oh?”

“Something just happened that you definitely want to know about...”

***

“Sourcemother’s semen encrusted ducts!” the matriarch shouted as she hung up, spraying a plume of irritation that filled the entire queen’s chamber.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her. “Ready a Hornet!” she yelled. “If those fucking flatworms think they are going to get to my humans first they are sadly mistaken!”

“A Hornet, Matriarch?”

“Yes! A Hornet! I have to get to Raylesh NOW!”

“Are you certain you want a… Hornet? Wouldn’t something else be-”

“I still know how to pilot one!” the matriarch snapped.

“I don’t doubt your ability, Matriarch,” one queen said diplomatically as the others shifted nervously. “It’s just that...”

“It’s just what?”

“Matriarch,” the queen said as carefully as she could. “Are you certain you can still… um… fit?”

She paused for a moment and then started laughing, filling the chamber with delight.

“Good point!” she laughed. “Get me the fastest Sourcemotherfucking thing you can get! Hivefate priority!”

“Yes, Matriarch!”

***

Somewhen, an ancient Plath female, followed by another Plath in a burgundy robe, paused as a solid wall parted in front of her.

Once they had both entered and the wall sealed behind them the walls pale-blue runes started to glow.

“Now we can speak privately,” she said. “So, sister, what is this madness of which you speak.”

“We can have our victory, our revenge!”

“Revenge is a foolish word for foolish people,” the Great Seer said. “Why should we harm our own people? What benefit is there for us in that?”

The other Plath hissed contententedly.

“Revenge not just on those who seek to destroy us from within,” she said with a half-insane smile, “revenge on everything. We can achieve true victory, not just against the foolish ‘Great Prophet’, but against them, even against the Befouler! We can defeat fate itself!”

“Madness!” the ancient Plath hissed in horror. “Sister,” she gasped, “what have you done?”

The other Plath smiled and opened her hand.

In it was a single tiny little seed.

***

Sheloran sighed at the line of xenos in her shop.

For the first time she wished they were just here to screw Craxina.

Once again ‘word had gotten out’. This time it wasn’t Craxina.

It was Uhrrbet!

Great Prophet! When when I ever pooping learn...

“(sigh) Yes, it’s a lovely basket,” she said to a slender four armed leathery being in front of her. “But the Republic is kinda funny about what they call ‘piece work’. I don’t want to get into trouble again!”

The creature sagged as a wave of despair crashed over Sheloran.

“But I’m getting everything set up so we can do it legally!” she said desperately. “Come back next week! I’ll have all the business and legal stuff set up then!”

It looked up at her hopefully.

“Really?”

“Yes, really!” Sheloran replied.

“Oh thank you!” it replied, but it didn’t leave.

Sheloran sighed as her eyes started to ache. Something “gave” in there last night and it wasn’t hurting so bad anymore but she was starting to get worried. For the hundredth time that day, she wished that she could call a priest, or a wise-woman.

Being ‘The Befouler’ was starting to be a real pain… literally…

“What?” Sheloran asked.

“I…” it stammered. “I heard that I could get a loan… Just a small one!”

“Is that all?” Sheloran smiled. “That I can do!” she exclaimed as she pulled out a transactor and a tablet.

The Republic was weird. Something that should be simple, like paying a person for each item they made was ‘piece work’ and was bad. You had to jump through all sorts of silly hoops to make it legal, and issuing loans when you weren’t a bank, something super-duper illegal in the Federation, wasn’t a big deal at all!

What was even more weird was that, using her now thriving ‘entertainment’ business and ‘improvements’ that she had made to her property, she was able to secure even more funding to pay for it all!

She didn’t care what Baxlon said! That had to be pooping illegal!

Illegal or not she wanted the money and the free port desperately needed it! If she didn’t do something the Harkeen would own the whole place and everyone in it and that wasn’t going to fuc-… wasn’t going to pooping happen!

If she had to break a few laws then so pooping be it! That’s why she had the eel!

She did feel bad about the interest she was charging but Baxlon said that it was “the going rate”, especially for “high-risk” loans.

She didn’t care about that. She just didn’t want people to starve… or sell their soul to the fuc-… the pooping Harkeen. Screw… I mean to heck with those jerkfaced bullies!

In a few minutes later the xeno left a few hundred credits “richer”, and Sheloran had another contract.

An hour later she had a dozen more and a dozen more people begging to ‘work’ for her offering everything from clothes to furniture.

Sheloran shook her head and chuckled as she pulled out a small brick of Pu Erh tea.

“The whole pooping Free Port is going to be working for me before this is over,” she chuckled as her left eye pulsed a little.

The door opened and a rather disheveled looking xeno, a race she had never seen, wandered in.

It timidly approached the counter.

Sheloran sighed and pulled out the transactor and tablet.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I… I heard that…” it stammered as it looked up at her with shame, “I heard that there were girls here?”

“Yes!” Sheloran exclaimed as she happily pulled out another tablet. “These are who are here right now! If the border of the picture is green they are ready right now! Ooo! Craxi is free! I’ve never seen your kind here before! She loves ‘meeting’ new races… if you know what I mean!” Sheloran said as she proffered the tablet with a wink. (and Plath can really wink!)

The xeno squeaked excitedly as it, with trembling paws, reached for the tablet.

“Have fun!” Sheloran said with a friendly wave a few minutes later as the xeno was led, squeaking and skipping, into the back by Craxina.

“Oh he will!” Craxina replied happily as they disappeared behind a curtain.

Thank the Great Prophet! Sheloran thought to herself. Finally! Someone who just wanted to fuck!… wait...

Giggling at the absurdity that her life had become, she resumed making a pot of tea.

“Maybe I am the Befouler after all...” she muttered as she filled her cup.

***

The Great Seer sighed with contentment as she stood on a small grassy hill overlooking a small glittering stream.

It was beautiful!

Maybe this “madness” wasn’t so bad of an idea after all.

“So this is?” a voice asked behind her.

Smiling she turned to the simply dressed Plath behind her.

“A Fl’lotharan tree,” she said smugly.

“Really?!?”

“Indeed,” the ancient Plath replied with a smile picking a small berry. “Each of these contains one dose of the refined drug and they can be dried without affecting the active ingredient.”

“Amazing!” the Great Prophet replied, admiring the small tree. “They look delightful, perhaps too delightful. What is to stop those who come after from consuming them by mistake?”

“Way ahead of you,” the Great Seer replied. “These things are so vile tasting that nobody is going to eat them unless they need to… And the deterrent can be easily deactivated when they are properly prepared. They will still work raw, but we really outdid ourselves on the flavor this time. It’s perfect. You can just barely keep them down.”

“I give constant thanks to the spirits of the progenitors that you and your sisters joined us, Great One.”

“If we must do this,” the Great Seer replied, “Then let us do it properly. This world will become a paradise! Let our slumber be one filled with beautiful dreams.”

“Forgive me,” the Great Prophet said. “but I can’t help but notice that you haven’t called me a fool in quite some time.”

“That is because I may have reconsidered things,” the Great Seer said with a gentle smile. “We have become wise, filled with the knowledge of all that is. We have become powerful, being able to say that we stand foremost among the first-born. But this...”

She took a deep breath of pure, clean air and looked out over the countryside.

“With this we can claim that rarest of all treasures. We can seize what even the progenitors themselves failed to grasp.”

“And that is?” The Great Prophet asked.

The Great Seer lifted her secret eyelid and turned to the Great Prophet, her eyes shimmering with a thousand colors.

“We can become, happy,” she sighed. “I have peered deep into reality itself. I have bent all that is to my will. I have chambers filled with treasures and delights of a thousand worlds. I have tasted vices and pleasures that shouldn’t even be discussed, especially with you,” she laughed. “But I have never been as ‘happy’, as filled with contentment and joy, as I have been these past few years. Working the soil, feeling it under my bare feet, watching my plants grow and thrive in the soil, as part of a living breathing world… This… This is what we should have been doing all along! Every thing we have done, everything we have achieved… It was just wasted time. I know that now. We all do.”

She knelt and kissed the Great Prophet’s hand.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! You aren’t leading us to ruin! You have shown us the path to joy!”

“You give me too much credit, Great One,” he smiled. “Please get up. I am not worthy. I was also wrong, so very very wrong. I was driven by fear, by intolerance, by hate… Yes hate. I hated you and your kind, blaming you for what is simply the wheels of fate. What happened happens to all who reach that terrible point. Nobody has passed that final horrifying filter. Even the progenitors themselves were broken by it.”

He gently pulled the Great Seer to her feet.

“Without you, without your sisters, this world would have been a purgatory, the ‘punishment’ that I felt that we deserved for our sins. Now,” he sighed, “It is going to be a garden of endless bounty, a world of dreams where everything one could ever want springs from the soil and drops into our children’s outstretched hands. This planet isn’t our ‘deserved fate’. It will be our civilization’s greatest achievement. We have you to thank for that, Great One.”

“I just wish that all of us understood,” the Great Seer said sadly.

“The heretic?” the Great Prophet asked.

“She and her followers still elude us,” The ancient Plath said sadly. “I will carve out her heart myself. I should have struck her down when she showed me that accursed seed but I was weak, foolish, seduced with her poisoned whispers… I...”

Tears started to appear on the Great Seer’s cheeks.

The Great Prophet just embraced her.

“We were both foolish then,” he said. “If I hadn’t been so angry, so hate-filled, so intent on your destruction she would never have been driven into madness, neither of you would have been. I’m so terribly sorry, Great One.”

“I fear for the future, Prophet. She could undo everything we strive for. I fear for our daughter.”

“Our… daughter?”

The ancient Plath smiled at him.

“I can bend life itself to my will,” she said with a joyous smile. “If I can cure cancer with a berry, is breathing one last breath of life into these old bones so unbelievable?”

The Great Prophet exclaimed with joy as he took the ancient Plath into his arms and kissed her.

“So the veil that separates us, that which keeps the castes pure?”

“Rent asunder,” the ancient Plath sighed happily. “The last barrier to our true freedom gone. Who better to be the first to receive that gift than you, Prophet.”

“I’m just an old member of the warrior caste,” the Great Prophet said as he held his love in his arms. “I can’t peer into pools. I can’t bend fate or weave genes, but I don’t need any of that to see the future, our future. We will be just fine, all of us for now and for all time!”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You might think you know fate,” he smiled. “but I do know war, which this is, a very strange war, to be sure, but it’s war. We are beset on all sides. On one front we have them and the Befouler. On the other we have the witch and her cult. We don’t peer into pools, our knowledge of the colors is one of instinct, inscribed into our bloodline. I don’t believe the war to be won. I know it.”

He threw his head back and let out an impossibly beautiful war-song.

“Our daughter!” he sang. “Our daughter will cut them all down! You use a sword to cut down a swordsman. You use a starship to destroy a starship, and… you use a blasphemy to strike down a blasphemer! You use a monster to consume a monster!”

He grabbed the Great Seer and started to dance with an impossibly fluid grace.

“Do you… Do you realize what you’ve done?!?”

The Great Seer danced along, her steps but clumping stomps compared to a warriors grace.

She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

***

Sheloran coughed, spitting out her tea, as chills ran up and down her spine.

Something just “shifted”. She didn’t exactly know how she knew…

She just knew

And she also knew that she definitely did not like it.

“Poop.”

***

Far in the past, out in the fringes of ‘civilized space’, on a backward little world forgotten by almost everyone, a corpulent savage translucent lavender being, draped in animal furs, raised a bone goblet as he sat at a long wooden table piled high with wild game and fresh fruits and vegetables.

“A feast!” he roared. “A feast of feasts to honor the Old Ones!” he bellowed as he drained his cup. “Meat! Meat for my boyz and a bounty for our guests, blessed be their NAMES!” he yelled with delight as his subjects howled with delight. “Be sure the rotters outside get plenty! Don’t want these smells driving them into another revolt!”

His servants laughed and started hauling a truly stupid amount of food outside as the crowd cheered.

“Long live his fatness! Long live the Fat King!” echoed in through the open windows.

“All you bastids raise your fokin glasses! Raise them to the Plant Gods!” he yelled.

“Whadda you mean bastids?” someone yelled. “Most of us are yourz, you horny old fuk!”

Everyone howled with laughter, especially the king.

“Stand up! Show some fukin’ respect!” the king yelled at his men and equally savage women.

“To da First-Bornz! To the stink of the progenitors demselves!!!” he yelled as he drained his cup again.

“Da First-Bornz!” his people howled all slamming back their drink.

A slightly older Plath, clad in burgundy, who was sitting beside him stood and raised a crudely blown glass goblet (fancy!).

“We are honored by your warm reception,” she smiled as she sipped the rather crude wine. It was appealing in an earthy way.

“Ok boyz,” he shouted, “and honored guests… DIG IN!!!”

Everyone cheered as they fell upon the feast, the most polite tearing whole roast beasts apart with their bare “hands” and stuffing them into crudely shaped holes in their faces.

Others simply stretched their mouth holes and plunged, face-first, into the repast.

The Plath smiled. You had to give the Tol credit. They had “style”… sort of…

“So, are you having a problem with civil unrest?” she asked the corpulent blob sitting beside her.

“Wha?” the king said as he pulled a bone from his gaping maw. He examined it for a moment and then stuffed it back in.

“You mentioned rebellion. Is your reign under threat?” she asked. That could be a problem.

“Nah!” the king said as he shoved an entire small melon straight into his belly, a second mouth obligingly tearing itself open. “Dey good people an’ good people like a good fight every now and den! The boyz dish out a few lumps, get some back, and den we all get piss-drunk and screw!”

“A most interesting system of governance,” the Plath smiled.

“It works!” the king laughed, quivering all over. “Everybody’s fat and dropping bastid whelps all over da place! What more kin I ask for? What more kin anyone ask for?”

He sounds like the ‘Great Seer’, the Plath witch thought as she smiled back indulgently and raised her goblet. The colors say that these animals will stand the test of time?

“Dat’s the secret of bein’ king!” he said as he managed to fit even more food inside him. “Keep them fat! Keep them drunk! Keep them fuckin’!” he yelled. “You win wars dat way! You know how I conkerd Roop’s boyz?”

“Tell me,” she asked with a smile. She simply had to hear this.

“I had dem all holed up in der castle all ready to fight me to the last Tol,” he laughed. “I let dem sit in dere for a good week while I pretended to get ready to fight ‘em… Den...” he laughed. “I rolled out a feast and a half with wagons of booz and hundreds of the prettiest Tollops you ever seen! Den I stripped nekkid and climbed up on one of the tables and what did I yell?”

“YOU FUKERS WANNA FIGHT OR DO YOU WANNA GET DRUNK AND FUK!!!” his horde all bellowed in unison.

“Me and my boyz den started throwin’ down rite den and dere!” he yelled, bellowing with laughter. “Eatin’ an’ drinkin’ an fukkin!… right in front of em…” he laughed. “It didn’t take long before dey started lookin’ at each udder reel hard. ‘Bout the time we pulled up the second wagon of booz ol’ Roop hisself yelled ‘fuk dis!’ and came out, grabbed a Tollop and some brew, and sit rite down beside me, didn’t you, you old fukker?”

“Sure did!” Roop yelled from somewhere in the throng. “Dam good party it was!”

“Me an’ Roop settled things right there, face deep in food, booz, and Tollop!” the king roared. “Yea you kin swing swords and shoot gunz but you really wanna win? You really wanna be king? Shoot food. Shoot booz. Show ‘em how much fun your boyz have, everyday! Dey throw down der swords, der gunz, and fukkin’ hand you their crownz… An I got you skinny little blues to thank for it all! Progenitors bless all of you weird little fuks!”

“Glad we could help,” she smiled sipping the wine (it was actually pretty good!… a bit strong though) “I am a bit confused though. You say that we are the source of your good fortune, but how?” The king just looked at her in confusion.

“Da food!” he yelled. “All da food! You taught us, showed us how to grow stuff good! Gave us da magic plantz! Oil berries! Bread gourds! That grass that makes the dirt good and makes the moo’s fat! The greens that keep the pox away an’ all the rest! All of that! It made me fat! It made my people fat!… An’ itz gonna make the whole world fat!”

“I am deeply honored by your appreciation,” she said, “but most of that was already here. We only tweaked a few little things where the oil berries were concerned.”

“Yea but if it weren’t for you we wouldn’t know would we?” the king laughed. “An’ some of dat weren’t around here!”

“True, some of what we introduced was located elsewhere on your planet but that was of little consequence.”

“You might be able to skip over to the other side of the world… and the next no problem but itz ‘of big consekwence’ to us! We owe you big time!… Don’t we boyz?” he yelled.

“Raaaaaarrrrrrrr!” they all shouted completely ignorant of what they agreed to. The Fat King steered them good this far. He probably knew what he was doin’.

As an unending stream of food and drink flowed into the hall many of the Plath present retreated to lounges, unaccustomed to the excesses inflicted upon them, and many of the Tol staggered away from the table only to be replaced by people, many of them commoners, from outside.

The “nobility’s” only concern seemed to be that the new arrival’s cups were empty… and they had entirely too many clothes on…

Some of the knights and nobles even got up and took the servant’s places, shoving them towards the table with a “Get in dere!” and a swat on the butt.

The servants didn’t seemed surprised one bit. They just tossed off their “fancy” clothes (didn’t want to get them dirty) and plunged in.

The Plath witch suddenly slumped forward. That wine was entirely too delicious and entirely too strong.

All the Tol cheered as her head hit the table.

***

“Uhhhhh...” the witch groaned as a beam of sunlight mercilessly fell upon her face.

She cracked open her eyes to a full-blown orgy. Tols and Tollops were all in a wiggling mass...everywhere.

“Good morning,” a Tollop servant said as she moved to refill her goblet.

“No more wine! Please!” she groaned.

The Tollop just laughed.

“Your kind don’t last long,” she said, jigging with mirth. “Don’t worry! Party’s still fukkin’ goin!”

“I can see that,” she said as she looked at the carnal excesses taking place in front of her.

“Heh, yea,” the Tollop chuckled. “Dey reely goin’ at it ain’t dey?”

“The king,” the Plath said as she struggled clumsily to her feet. “Do you know where I might find him.”

“Ol’ Fatty is at the pits!” she said cheerfully as someone crawled over to them raising an empty goblet. “Out front. Can’t miss them!” she said as she poured wine into the goblet.

The Plath witch carefully picked her way through the quivering translucent lavender chaos around her.

***

She found the king, clad only in a protective drape across his front, standing in front of a massive iron grill.

He looked up at her and waved a fearsome barbed spike cheerfully.

“Good morning,” she said as she walked up.

“Mornin’! I woulda had dem carry you to a bed but I didn’ know if dat was disrespectful.”

“It’s… alright...” she said weakly. “But for the record it, as long as your intentions were good, would not have been.”

He turned to face someone walking up holding an empty plate.

“Who the hell are you?” the king asked as he cut off a massive slab of meat.

“One of Kreba’s boyz!”

“Kreba’s here?” the king asked as he plopped a massive serving down.

“An’ we brought a shitload of meeps! An’ real booz!”

“You didn’t have to do dat! Dis my party!”

“Kreba don’t show up with nothin’ but mouthz! ‘Sides, we have too many of the little bastids!” the tol grinned. “Can’t eat dem fast enough!”

“Well throw dem on da fire!” the king exclaimed as he watched another group of riders enter. “From da looks of things someone will eat ‘em!”

“Oh, Kreba sayz you better have saved some goo for her!” the Tol said. “She says she she expects a proper stuffing as well as a proper stuffing!”

“Good ol Kreba!” the king said with a grin. “Tell her I always got goo for her!”

The Tol bowed to the plath and then trotted off.

“Kreba is one hard Tollop!” the king said with a grin. “She and her boyz put up one helluva fight!”

“You have female rulers?”

“You seen Kreba? Dat Tollop can break a tree in half! Dey grow em big over dere!”

“And her boys don’t object to being led by a woman?”

The king looked at her in confusion.

“A lot of her boyz are Tollops… Oh!” the king laughed. “Boyz don’t mean ‘boys’.”

“Sorry?”

“Boyz means anyone dat runs with you!” the king said as he started serving a fresh pack of Tols and Tollops some just grabbing chunks of steaming meat with their bare hands and scampering off.

He looked over the feasting throngs and smiled happily.

“I love being rich!” he yelled as everyone cheered in response.

“I can certainly see how such displays help keep you in power.”

“Wha?” the king said looking over his shoulder. “Yeah dat’s nice and all but real clinkreal flash… is bein’ so fukking flush you can’t even give it all away! I can stuff every single mouth I see full, pack every single belly to bursting! Even den I got so much I gotta conker more hungry Tols to fatten up! Look at dem!” he exclaimed. “Everybody’s fat! Everybody’s smiling! Dat’s what bein’ a king is all about! I like a good fight but I fukkin’ love dis!”

The witch looked at him thoughtfully, starting to make sense of the colors. If this corpulent mass of benevolent might could truly gain power and this prosperity maintained…

“You mentioned using ‘Tollops’ to subdue your foes?”

“Yeah!” He exclaimed as he bent down to hand a small Tollop a particularly fatty cut. “Works every time!”

“So do you conscript prostitutes or do you force-”

“Hey!” the king exclaimed. “Nobody is ‘forcin’ anyone! Anyone who runs with me is down with it. When I take my party on da road my fukboyz come along because dey are up for a good time and like runnin’ with us!”

“So there is no subjugation of females in your realm?”

“Wha? Why would dere be? My mom is a female,” he laughed. “Ain’t going to subjugate my mom an if anyone tries dat on one of my daughters dey gonna have trouble! Why you ask?”

“Oh, some things seem to be more easily learned by females, that’s all.”

“Like weavin’?” he asked. “Dey better at fiddly shit!”

“Yes… weaving…” she replied with a slightly wicked smile.

A servant came by with a tray of fresh fruit and vegetables.

“Are you hungry, first-born?”

She smiled and selected a large fleshy fruit and tossed onto the grill.

The servant and the king looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

“The flames will caramelize the sugars, greatly enhancing the flavor,” she smiled.

“Really?” the servant asked. “I never thought of that!”

“It’s one of many things I will teach you,” the Plath smiled.

***

Sheloran was humming happily to herself. Things had been delightfully “normal” since lunch. She had a few people coming in looking to sell their crafts and a few just dropping in because they heard that she was good for a bowl of rice.

However, most who dropped by were looking for Craxina and her friends, a wonderful little respite of normalcy.

She chuckled at the thought of running a whorehouse being “normal”.

She idly pulled out a tablet and reviewed things. She was finally able to look at the amount of money she was ‘losing’ without getting queasy.

If those people actually started repaying those loans… at that interest… she pondered as she fiddled with a spread sheet…

Great Prophet! she thought as she stared at the numbers appearing in front of her.

That couldn’t be right! It couldn’t be that much money! She ran the numbers again.

“Oh poop,” she gasped and giggled.

“Ohmycreators!” came an excited squeal from the other side of the curtain.

Craxina and Gizx, one of the new girls, trotted in, Gizx clutching a crystal to her chest.

“Are… Are you sure this is right?” she asked looking up (yes, up) at Craxina.

“Yep. That’s your pay for the day,” Craxina grinned. “A bit different when you aren’t getting ripped off isn’t it?”

Gizx wasn’t even able to speak. She just giggled and nodded.

“So, see you tomorrow?” Craxina asked with a smile.

“Creators, yes! Tomorrow and the next day, and the next!” Gizx exclaimed, jumping up and down. “Thank you ever so much for showing me that thing about their butthole!”

“The mysteries of the human butthole are many and profound,” Craxina laughed as she started to make herself a cappuccino.

“And deep! Don’t forget deep!” Gizx laughed.

Sheloran just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Here, boss.” Gizx asked cheerfully handing over her data crystal.

“Oh, coffee is complimentary for employees,” Sheloran smiled. “As long as you make it yourself.”

“Your cut,” Gizx replied with a cute wiggle of her antennae. “You haven’t taken it yet!”

“Already done,” Craxina replied from over her shoulder as she frothed the milk. “We handle all of that before you get your payout.”

“Really?!?!?!” Gizx gasped, “This is mine? All of this is… mine?”

“Every credit,” Sheloran replied with a smile. This was all too common a reaction she thought as her eyes started to throb a little…

So many bullies that needed a good swat…

Gizx looked like she was going to faint.

“I’m… I’m going shopping!” she exclaimed. “In the real city!… Maybe… maybe… go out to eat!… Creators!… Thank you!” she cried out embracing Sheloran.

“Um… no problem...” Sheloran said uncomfortably. “I’m not doing anything special. It’s just standard union rates...”

“But… but you saved me!” Gizx cried as she hugged her tighter. “Without you I’d still be working for them.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about them anymore!” Sheloran replied.

“Thank you!… Thanks… Thanks!” Gizx gushed repeatedly as she backed out of the shop, bowing repeatedly.

Sheloran couldn’t help but smile. The Republic might have turned out to be a cesspit that was scummy as poop but at least she was doing something about it all.

“Good kid,” Craxnia said as she sipped her cappuccino. “And she actually likes the work too! I think she’s a keeper!”

“Well that’s nice,” Sheloran replied as she sipped a cup of tea.

The door to the shop opened and Sheloran looked up happily.

“Welcome! How can I-”

Standing there was a Threen dressed in a spacer’s jumpsuit.

Harkeen

“Oh shit.” Craxina said quietly.

“Need something, Threen,” Sheloran said with a little hiss.

“Yeah,” the Threen sneered as he walked up. “Boss says that we got a problem.”

“Has he considered more fiber?” Sheloran replied. “It helps when someone is full of poop.”

“Cute,” the Threen replied baring its fangs. “You fucking with the whores is one thing. The union has your back. But now you are running loans?”

“Yeah,” Sheloran replied, her eyes starting to throb, “I’ve expanded my business to offer financial services. So what. You don’t like it? You can’t compete? Tough.”

“So you either gotta stop or you gotta start paying rent. Otherwise something bad is gonna happen to-”

The Threen trailed off into silence as he was gripped with a primal instinctive fear as he watch the skin start to bulge and ripple around Sheloran’s eyes.

Craxina squeaked and started to back away in terror but she wasn’t scared of the thug. It felt almost like… something was stretching very tight… and very thin…

The air escaped Sheloran’s gill slits in an ominous hiss.

“While…” she choked out, “While you can still walk… Get. OUT!”

His eyes widening in fear, the Threen beat a hasty retreat.

Sheloran stood there, shaking, as she inhaled and the air was expelled in a near constant, terrifying hiss from her gills.

Craxina just looked on anxiously. The air was shimmering as it flew out of Sheloran’s neck like it was roiling off of a hot sidewalk…

No, it wasn’t… But it almost looked like it for a second.

“Shel?”

Sheloran looked back at her. Craxina squealed a little and backed away.

That isn’t Sheloran! Oh Creators… what is that!?!

Then Sheloran blinked…

And everything just sort of “snapped” back to normal.

Sheloran’s knees buckled as she gripped the counter for support, her free hand clawing at her eyes. Great Prophet did they hurt!

“Sheloran?” Craxina asked in a tiny, terrified voice.

“We… We’re closing early today...” Sheloran gasped weakly. “I gotta talk to Baxlon.”

***

“I’m really scared!” Sheloran yelped into her communicator. “I think the Harkeen are going to do something!”

“Hmm...” Baxlon said calmly. “Sounds like you finally caught the attention of a bigger fish, a little guppy of a thing, but still.”

“That ‘guppy’ is plenty enough!” she squeaked. “I just wanted to sell games, Baxlon! I just wanted to sell games!

“Then you should have done just that.” Baxlon said in a chiding voice. “What’s done is done. Now we must deal with things as they are.”

What are we going to do?” Sheloran squeaked.

“We could get you some security,” Baxlon said calmly, “But good security doesn’t come cheap. With your core business being impacted, I’m not entirely sure whores, baskets, and coffee is going to cut it.”

Baxlon issued a long bubbly sigh.

“You are going to hate me for this,” he said, “But did the Harkeen enforcer mention what your rent would be? Sometimes-”

“No!” Sheloran hissed. “They don’t get one single fucking credit! You give into a bully just a little and they just come back harder the next time!”

“What is it with you and bullies?”

I’ve been bullied my whole pooping life!” she snapped, getting angry. “Someone was always pushing me around, for no reason! I know bullies! There is no pleasing them! No matter how small you try to be, they just want you to be smaller! I pay them their pooping ‘rent’ today and tomorrow they go after my girls! No! We get security! I’ll… I’ll make it work, somehow.”

Baxlon looked at her carefully.

“There something wrong with your eyes? They look swollen or something.

“Wouldn’t yours be?” she squeaked. “I had fuck… pooping Harkeen in my shop!”

“Fair enough,” Baxlon replied. “I know some guys who can handle this. I’ll call them. Just… just hold off on any new loans for a bit.”

Sheloran hissed.

“You aren’t giving in to ‘the bullies’,” Baxlon said, “You are just taking a reasonable precaution while we get you some backup, ok?”

Sheloran glared at him for a few moments.

“Ok,” she sighed. “No more loans.”

“Good girl,” he smiled. “Now, try to relax. If they show up again just tell them that you’ve stopped the loans. Once we get you set up then you can tell them to go to hell.”

“Ok, thanks Baxlon.”

“I’ll call you soon,” Baxlon said as he hung up.

It will be too late.

Sheloran blinked and shivered as a sense of foreboding consumed her.

No… It’s going to be fine. We’ll just stop the loans and get some security.

Still…

“Hey, Ploxni,”she said as Ploxni came out carrying a mop and bucket.

“Yes, boss?” Ploxni asked with a bright smile gracing her see-through pink face.

“Why don’t you come home with us tonight?” Sheloran asked. “We can go out to eat and have a sleep-over. It will be fun!”

“Oh I’d love to, boss,” Ploxni said, “but I just took an appointment for later.”

“You running your own business, Plox?” Craxina asked with mock severity.

“It’s just it’s Dave!” she squeaked defensively. “He’s coming in today and he said that he missed me!”

“Aww… Ploxni has a boyfriend! Oooo!” Craxina laughed.

“We’ll wait.” Sheloran said firmly.

“But it won’t be for hours!” Ploxni protested. “I don’t want to inconvenience you and Dave… He’s...”

“He’s what?” Sheloran asked with a faint hiss.

“He’s… goingtobehereallnight...” Ploxni said in a tiny voice.

“Oooooooooooo…. Busted!” Craxina said poking at Ploxni. “It isn’t a job, it’s a date!” she crowed. “I was wondering why I wasn’t seeing him around much! He’s getting it for freeeeeeeee!”

“I’m sorry, boss! We’ll stop! Don’t get mad!”

“I’m not mad,” Sheloran replied, calming down. “In fact it makes me feel a lot better knowing you aren’t here alone.”

“So it’s ok?”

“It’s fine.” Sheloran replied with a smile. “Tell Dave hello for me…”

With a nervous look back, Sheloran let Craxina lead her out of the door.

Don’t leave.

“Come on...” Craxina said tugging her as she paused. “Dave will be here in a minute and he’s former army. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Sheloran said as she let Craxina guide her to a waiting cab. “It will be fine.”

***

On the other side of the Free Port a pudgy Threen sat in a Threen restaurant snarling at the Threen standing in front of him.

“I’ve had it with that fucking frog!” he snarled. “So, she says that we can’t ‘compete’? Let’s show how how well we fucking ‘compete’!”

“Are you sure, boss?” the other Threen fidgeted. “I don’t think we should.”

“You scared of a fucking plath?”

“N… no… but it’s Sheloran, boss and… and”

“Oh I know all about the ‘drop of oil’,” the fat Threen sneered. “It’s bullshit, all of it. She says so herself. She just got lucky with those two bounty hunters and shooting a couple of Plath ain’t nothing to be proud of. She ain’t nothing but just another whore who needs a good slap!”

“But, boss...”

“But nothing!” he snarled. “First she goes after the whores and now she goes after our money? You just going to hand over the Free Port to that whore? Call the boys! We deal with this ‘drop of oil’ tonight!”

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