We Need a Deathworlder!

“Hey, Princess.” Thorn addresses the Cali as everyone else oogles over Seven’s new appearance..

Chak looks up at the older Terran male curiously.

“Yes, Mr. Thorn?” she replies.

“I know you want to be towed to the closest place for repairs. But if y’all don’t mind a lil’ longer travel’n time, we can take ya to our usual place.Top notch work for an honest price. At least, more honest than most. A Noxxi asteroid colony, out in the Grudrift system. A bit of a detour but it’s out of the way of anyone look’n to cash you out.” the man offers.

Chak takes a moment to consider the proposition.

“That would actually be preferable! I believe that’s fairly close to other pending business of ours.” she agrees with a bounce.

“Ain’t that right… I’m supposing you hired them ‘Seekers’ then?” he comments with a slight chuckle.

“Oh… Y-yes! Are you acquainted?” Chak inquires, having not expected this.

“By reputation, sure. Have yet to cross paths.” the man answers.

“I see… how did you guess that it was us that hired them?”

“Simone filled me in on all the nonsense. ‘Mentioned you managed to snag some sort of capable treasure hunters. And ‘bout everyone worth their salt in my line of work takes notice of when the ‘Seekers’ seems to be on the trail of somethin’. Easy to connect dots.” Thorn explains.

“Should I be glad or concerned that people take notice of them while operating a job for us?” Chak asks.

“Both. Though I wouldn’t say it should keep you up at night. Leave that for Thatch, heheh… The History Seekers know what they are doing. People like myself can only trace ‘em by the pit stops they make. Otherwise, they know how to disappear in the stars. That ship of theirs is nigh impossible to track.”

“Oh, that is good to hear.”

-

Having been towed up to an asteroid orbiting spacedock, The Kwip-Chap is gradually guided into one of its surrounding free floating work yards.

Chak stands by the Captain, having been in correspondence with the yard lead.

“We very much appreciate you bringing our vessel under your care.” the Cali says through the comm line.

“One moment please. We are commencing diagnostic scans of your vessel.” A tired Noxii’s voice returns, “Ah. Are you looking for a full repair?”

“Just propulsion engine repairs and an exterior patch up. We would greatly prefer no repair crews entering the ship.” Chak clarifies.

“Understood, we can accomplish that without issue. Estimated time for the requested repairs are sitting at nine standard hours and the algorithmic estimated cost is at 53,180.08 credits. With the additional fees for housing your vessel for that time the finalized price comes to 55,000 credits.”

Chak nearly agrees, seeing that as not an unusual price for this sort of repair. However, she remembers to mention something odd that Thorn told her to say when pricing came up.

“Oh, uhm. The ship could also use a refill on headlight fluid.” she says, trying her best to not sound confused by such a request, but Thorn was insistent.

To which the Captain mute’s their end of the comm line/

“Bwhaha! Headlight? What?” Chucknuq inquires, rather taken aback.

“I know… but Thorn told me to request that specific service…” Chak defends as she scratches the sides of her face.

“I believe the man may be fulling a small prank on you, your highness. Hahahha!” the Tromple responds with a good laugh about it.

Before Chak’s embarrassment can fully set in, the Noxii voice on the other end of the line speaks up.

“Apologies. There seemed to be a calculating error in our pricing algorithm. The finalized price has been corrected to 22,000 credits.”

Both the Cali and Tromple frees up and silently stare ahead for a good moment.

Chak then quickly unmute’s their end.

“That is acceptable… Thank you!” she responds before the comms are disconnected.

“Ha! Well never mind then…” Chucknuq mumbles in amusement.

“Indeed… now I’m wondering if that’s a special discount or if the usual charge is marked up by so much…” Chak ponders aloud before turning away to seek out her fiance.

-

“Three… Two… one… go!” Troy announces before he and Simone’s arms clench together in a contest atop a mess hall table.

Both immediately grit their teeth as the two locked arms tremble in a deadlock. Hope sparks in Troy’s eyes as he never managed to withstand the might of the redhead before. While Simone did her best to keep her cool to not show that she does not expect to struggle this much.

The table groans in protest, accompanied by the other observing Terrans’ snickering and gasps as Troy begins to gain ground.

“This time! This time!” he fumes through immense determined strain.

“Bitch!” Simone seethes as she manages to halt Troy’s pressing.

Though she seemingly can’t surpass what's needed to turn the tables.

Face turning a deep red, Troy gives it his all to break through this wall of resistance, incoherent roaring spouting free from his clenched maw. His efforts prove effective, placing the back of Simone’s hand so close to the table that Brandy crunches down in amazement to keep an eye out for contact.

Although closer than she would’ve liked, this was precisely what the redhead was waiting for. After giving off such exertion, she responds in kind right at the split second that Troy’s burst ends and before he can build up the energy to do it again.

Hoisting with a bodybuilder’s torque, she forced the man’s arm up and over with a single surprising motion, suddenly reversing the tides.

Scrambling to the other side of the table, Brandy assumes an identical position.

“Does the hair on the back of his hand count?” she teases.

Eyes bulging from his head, Troy puts his everything into a stubborn defiance to not falter the remaining centimeter. Though his raw desperate strength only grants him a few more seconds before he feels the cool tabletop pressing into his skin.

Both Terrans going limp they both leaned forward to press their foreheads into the table.

“And once again! Simone is the reigning champion!” Brandy annonces as she slapped the redhead’s back.

“Meaning Troy’s gotta pay up.” Devin adds, having watched this play out at the table next door.

“Fucking damn it…” Troy grumbles into the table.

“That’s what you get when you bet on yourself.” Devin replies.

“But everyone else betted on Simone!” Troy counters.

“Because you brought up betting. Who else were we gonna bet on?” Devin says with a smirk that implies a snicker.

“Damn it… I was so close…” the young man utters as he taps his forehead against the table.

“Yeah, close to beating someone who is recovering from a prolonged coma. Granted it’s Simone, but damn what a handicap.” Brandy points out as she sits down next to the defeated man.

“You doing okay there Red?” Thorn inquires, having noticed Simone not gloating over her victory.

The redhead crossed her arms underneath her head in a resting position.

“Just bein’ humble. Don’t want the man-child to get fussy.” she mocks with a shit eating grin.

“Uuhhghhghhg…” Troy moans as he covers his head with his hands.

Before more slinging of words can occur, a bot rolls out of the kitchen with a stacked pancake platter in each of their new four graspers. With assorted toppings of course.

“I was correct!” Seven procraims as they come up and set the platters down at the twp tables being utilized.

“Oh hell yeah!” Perking up Troy immediately snatches one from the top, partially folds it and starts to throw a bit of everything into it.

“It’s a pancake, not a damn taco.” Brandy comments as she rolls her eyes.

“Be right back with better plating-ing options!” Seven notifies as they rush off to remedy the situation.

“Everything can be a taco if you try hard enough.” Troy counters before stuffing his face, seemingly now forgetting all about his previous loss.

“No. Say that again after you’ve had the real thing. Real marinated meat, salsa and soft toasted corn tortillas at the very least.” Devin says, surprisingly engaged in this particular topic.

At first amused, Simone looks to each of her fellow Terrans completely lost.

“The hell’s a taco?” she asks confused.

The rest of the room looks to her at such an odd question.

“Are you… serious? Or are you trying to get all philosophical about words and their meaning on us? Because if you’re going to start arguing that a hotdog is a sandwich-” Devin replies before Thorn lifts a gentle hand to cut him off.

“Dead serious. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” the redhead doubles down.

“Simone… we’ve had them plenty of times… they’re like… one of your favorite foods.” Brandy informs softly.

Simone’s brow tightens in confusion.

“Really? Weird… I guess my recent brain infection took some things I wasn’t aware of…” she guesses, though something tells her that's not quite right.

She feels a hand firmly take a hold of hers. Looking up, she sees an earnestly concerned Troy with berry syrup in the corner of his mouth.

“You alright there Red? Maybe we should get ya checked out.” he offers.

Smiling, Simone shrugs.

“Nah, no need. Already got looked at and as far as I know I’m well on my way to recovery, I swear.” she assures, though the look in the man’s eyes strikes a familiar sore chord within her, “And no, I’m not using. Been clean since y’all dropped me off. Not even touching alcohol anymore.”

She feels Troy’s hand squeeze before pulling away.

“That’s great! Hey boss,” the youngest man turns to the oldest, “How about with those credits you all won off me we go have some fun on that Noxii asteroid!? We have a lot to celebrate after all!” he poses.

Thorn raises his eye tufts and scratches at the shadow in his chin.

“See kid, even you can have a great idea in that noggin’ of yours. Planned on swingin by the place proper anyhow.” he replies as a Cali with a Watath scarf comes in, “Hell, if Simone’s lil’ lady would like to come with us as well, that’ll be golden.”

Chak’s eyes flash as Simone turns back to look at her warmly.

“Whatcha say hun? Should we drag everyone else with us?” the redhead asks with a wink.

-

The somewhat crowded shuttle flies into an available airlock and docks sideways into it. After several checks on the Noxii colony’s end, the doors are permitted to open, granting access to an automated check-in lobby.

The entirety two crews wander in, possibly one of the strangest sights to whomever is monitoring the security footage. However they are unimpeded in accessing the elevator that goes up to the trade and commercial districts.

Though not a horribly long ride, it’s certainly longer than Simone cares for. She needs to rest in the back corner, propping herself up via the railing.

Halfway through the ride a hard light screen pops up with images of a planet of vast oceans with a specific attention grabbing jingle that sounded more like a siren to the present Terrans. In the lower corner where the highlighted topic presents itself, the Terran Union symbol pops in.

Thorn sighed.

“What did the Union do now…” he mumbles as he crosses his arms tiredly.

Most eyes turned to the screen with a wide array of curiosities.

“Significant Central Galactic affairs update!” an artificial voice speaks up, “It has been uncovered that the Truba governing bodies have been secretly enslaving a previously unknown sapient species in their world’s underground cities.”

“The fuck…” Simone says, her full attention now on the screen.

“This is an unprecedented discovery and Central Galactic has taken swift action in freezing Truba trade lines and sending in a liberation fleet. It is hoped and expected that the Truba government will stand down and comply in freeing millions of slaves. Not much is yet known of this species, other than that they are in some manner related to Truba and have been given the name ‘Squilla’. Central representatives assure that they do not suspect the general Truba populace was aware of such a major infringement of galactic law. However there are those who are skeptical considering the scale of this travisty. In response, the Terran Union leader Valeria Bernal has brashly spoken out against Central Galactic, making unfounded claims that they are hypocritical and must have known about what the Truba government was hiding to some degree. She did not elaborate her claim about ‘why’ Central is being ‘hypocritical’. Some expect these statements may further create division between Central Galactic and the Terran Union. More information on both situations will be provided once more is clearly understood.”

With that, the screen blinks away.

“That’s… heavy. Wow… slaves?” Troy comments.

“Never in my long life… The Truba blackmarket was a known problem… but this?” Chucknuq says in complete astonishment.

“Indeed… I hope for the best outcome of course… but this is going to send ripples throughout all of Central.” Vin adds.

“Slave? Not Gratt word. Ownership of other person… like animal… Scary.” Nodrin attempts to articulate.

Simone’s jaw clenches and audibly pops.

“It’s disgusting. On top of that the media can’t help but connect the Union to it too, or imply that a vague spicy political comment is of any degree close to a whole people being enslaved for who knows how fuckin’ long… Why the hell did they plaster the Union’s symbol and not the Truba’s? Fuck’n hell…” she utters, an unusually dark look coming over her face.

“Because they have a narrative to spin. And they want eyes on the screen.” Devin answers,”But. What matters is that they were found out, and suffering people will be helped.” he adds, directing his eyes to Simone.

Taking his point in, Simone sighs and leans the back of her head against the elevator wall.

“Yeah.” she mumbles before she feels a tug at her side, looking down she notices Chak with a concerned expression.

“This may imply that the Terran leader is already aware of the Malchite situation. Is it possible she’s directly in league with Admiral Harkon?” Chak says, concerned about the implications.

“I don’t know… she’s very outspoken and has pushed fairly hard on Terrans being brought into Central Galactic membership. But… she’s a politician, some of the most vile and untrustworthy kinds of people. So it’s possible.” Simone reasons.

Chak blankly blinks up at Simone for a few standard seconds. The Watathing within her hood peeks out, sensing the odd tension in the air.

“You don’t count as a politician.” the redhead says quickly.

Chak’s red eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Oh? How so?” she fishes.

“Because you don’t want that position. And you’re too cute.” Simone teases as she wraps an arm around the Cali.

Accepting the embrace Chak shakes her head.

“I don’t believe ‘cute’ is a metric in politics.” she points out.

“You kidding?” Brandy says, “Marketing is the most important part in the political field. I can see the ads now…” the Terran giggles.

“Ads? Wait, so it’s true that Terran officials have to present themselves akin to a product?” Chucknuq inquires.

“Kinda…” Brandy admits, “It’s been getting better though. I remember voting for Bernal because her platform didn’t really focus on her. Rather her policies to work on better relations with other species. I guess it resonated enough for her to win. Though… I’m not sure if much was really accomplished so far. Granted we’ve avoided more wars and she has extended more aid to other peoples… but calling out Central like that without giving context? Makes you wonder. Definitely not a good look.”

“That… is Terran leader who is helping Gratt world. Yes?” Nodrin asks, “No need to help, but she do.”

“Because it was Terrans who attacked your world. It’s all for P.R., you know, to look good to the wider galactic community. But I wouldn't call it a bad thing, it is still mutually beneficial.” Thorn explains.

“Yeah but if she’s closely linked to Harkon, that only gives him another avenue to make a move on the Gratt homeworld. And even if she’s not, the dude is an Admiral. He’ll exploit any opportunity in any way he can.” Simone argues.

Troy looks around at all the grim faces around before raising his hand.

“Uhmmm… Am I the only one lost here? Harkon who?” he says.

Thorn looks at him with tired expectation.

“I filled you all in afer Simone explained the shit she’s been dealing with… Don’t tell me all my words went in one ear and out the other…” he sighs.

Troy smiles and scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Uhhm… oh yeah! That’s right! Got it!” he lies.

“I swear Troy…” Brandy says under her breath as she pinches her brow, “Always off in your ‘lil world.”

Eventually the elevator ride comes to an end, allowing everyone to pour out into a semi-busy bazaar. A maze of narrow walk lanes completely lined with Noxii vendors, merchants and even an array of performers. Doorways into the actual structures are small, clearly only meant for the three foot tall residence of the colony.

That being said, those who wander the lanes are incredibly diverse in species. Simone even catches sight of the rarely seen outside Central space people called Thawn..

The individual naturally floats via four club-like gas sacks, each suspended between their four long dangling manipulating appendages. Their body closely resembles a blooming flower with their large singular visual organ resting in its center. The meaty stem droops down in the center of their graspers and sacks, ending with a small beak.

Simone can’t help but stare, this being the first time seeing this species outside of vids and images. If she recalls her history classes correctly, the Thawn were the second species to join the Central Galactic government, establishing the current banking systems and systematic networks.

They were just as delicate as the Truba, but far more isolationist. Preferring to hire other more durable species to represent their affairs ‘in person’ if simple communications were not sufficient. Yet here was one, seemingly uncaring with the people brushing on by while they haggle with a Noxii stall owner over what looks to be retrofitted data pads.

“Goes to show how old my people really are.” Vin speaks up next to the staring redhead.

Jumping a bit, Simone looks down at the man.

“Whatcha mean?” she asks.

“Look around. The Noxii people are so tethered to the people of this universe, so intricately woven in connections which span several millennia that any and all creeds find themselves wandering colonies like this one. We might as well be the stars themselves, seeming to always have been here. We may not have a homeworld anymore, but we are not any less a core pillar in the stars. A splendid existence if you ask me.”

“Hm… do you think Terrans have a chance following you people’s footsteps? Copied your homework and booted our homeworld already.” Simone jests.

Though initially amused, Vin becomes contemplative.

“Funny. That’s precisely what my book is to be about. At least in part.” Vin replies earnestly.

“Really?”

“Indeed. Though I have my doubts if Terrans will follow the Noxii’s footsteps. Far too volatile in comparison. Though I do believe your people in one way or another will leave a mark on the universe that will last far beyond the time you are gone.” the doctor answers.

“Well… we are good at blowing things up…” Simone grants.

“Not quite what I meant. I truly believe your people have so much to give to the stars, more than your military might. All that needs to happen is for Central to open their arms to the Terrans joining.” Vin clarifies.

“Pffft… fat chance.” Simone dismisses, though curiosity gets the better of her, “But what do you think we can offer?”

Vin smiles and pats the back of Simone’s calf.

“Exactly what you offer, Simone.” he simply puts it.

“Not sure if I’m a good metric for an entire species…” the Terran argues.

“No, but you can still represent the best parts.” Vin assures before waddling away.

Simone watches the doctor reconvene with Seven, who was already wandering to a nearby produce stand. Then she notices that everybody was splitting ways to see something that catches their eyes. Even Chak was curiously tapping away at a slow pace.

Rolling her eyes, Simone sends a message to her crew and the her old Terran buds.

“Go have fun but remain in contact. Kwip-chap crew, I want you to check in with me every twenty standard minutes. If you don’t I won’t hesitate calling you. Got it?”

Though everyone messages back in the affirmative real quickly, they get out of her line of sight just as fast.

“We’ll keep an eye out for ya. Don’t worry.” Thorn messages in turn.

Finding that as a genuine relief, Simone picks up her pace to stay by her Cali’s side.

“Oh! Simone! Look at these blankets! They are made from Utroth belly fur! We should get one for Essjay!” the Cali excitedly chirps, pointing up at a selection of beautifully patterned sheets, “Oh and maybe one for us of course! Oh my goodness Simone! They would be perfect for movie nights!”

The Terran watches the Cali speak, instantly being taken back to being dragged along on Kamoi. The first time she really spent time with the Princess. Simone remembers how much she didn’t want to participate in the market, thinking it to be something to endure for a paid job.

But now… she’s standing in a far bigger market. Right next to the very same woman who still has that adorable enthusiasm for the goods she sees.

Despite everything the both of them have been through, they ended up healing far more than hurting and they’ve hurt a lot. The two have grown past who they once were, and yet, still felt like they were themselves.

Because in all honesty Simone still definitely dreads this shopping experience.

Her eyes land on Essjay, peeking their head out from the hood again to observe the visually interesting place they are in.

No, Simone was different. Before she knew it, she was a fiance and a fuck’n mom. Things she never actually expected to be, but have always wanted.

Even though a metric fuck-ton of shit is going to repeatidly hit the fan in her future. She won’t trade this life for anything, and damn it she was going to enjoy it.

“Fuck… yes! Let’s get ‘em an orange one! See if we can’t find one that matches their mom’s jacket!”