We Need a Deathworlder!

“It’s not everyday a Cali braves a Terran establishment…” the esteemed Thera says as she approaches the guest’s table, having wrapped up her performance with flying illuminescent colors, “I dearly hope Brad hasn’t been a sour greeter.”

“Up yours, night-light. I’ve been nothin’ but a charmer, it’s just we’ve been waiting on you to quit jerkin’ your ego in front of the crowds, again.” the male Terran responds as he leans back with his arms rested back up on the seat’s ridge.

“Patrons come to listen, who am I not to oblige? Now let us keep the colorful language out of business dealings.” the Truba counters as a server brings a specially soft chair for her to sit down in, “Apologies for the wait.”

Chak perks up, giving the hostess a respectful bounce.

“Oh, no apologies necessary! And the service here has been nothing short of first rate. Thank you very much for seeing us without notice ahead of time.” she replies, tapping into her political training.

“Splendid to hear! This establishment may have Terrans in mind, however all are welcome. Even the odd brave Cali with newcomers to the stars at her side. What brings you in search for our services? I’ve been informed your contact was Denver?” Thera says as a drink is placed down in front of her.

“I will be forthright, our Terran crewmember is the only connection we have with Denver. And from my understanding it was to a limited capacity. That being said, the information that led to you was freely offered by those who had guardianship over Denver’s items.” Chak explains.

“Yes… Simone Thatch. Her records show that she’s from the same colony. And that she has been court martialed from the Terran Union… And… that she was recently featured on a conspiratorial Net podcast claiming to have the Runaway Princess in attendance. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now, would you?” Thera replies, her chorus of a voice whispering as a crowd of devious conspirators.

Feeling her hearts pick up the pace, Chak makes note of how truly difficult it would be to make an escape from this establishment. Especially in the position they were in, up and away from any easy exit, completely surrounded by those of the Truba’s employment. A Trub who already knows exactly who she is, and that trying to outright deny it would be pointless. The Cali almost preferred the first Terran bar she found trouble in at this moment.

“Oh, since when is a fringe podcast built up on misguided conjecture taken as fact? Surely the desire to be thrusted into the limelight would cause any host to delve into fabrications of all sorts in order to gain a greater following. Regardless, I have severe doubts that you wish to cause any sort of conflict despite what you may believe. I am accompanied by representatives of a newly recognized species, whom I must remind you are under the protection and cooperation with Central Galactic and the Terran Union. Besides, it isn’t necessarily credits that you are ‘seeking’, correct?” The Cali lays out sternly.

A state of contemplative consideration marks the Truba for a short moment, but she soon casts it away.

“Credits are undoubtedly useful, but you are indeed very much correct. We seek artifacts and lost knowledge. To construct the past that Central has either failed to record, or purposely scrubbed away.” she grants, “Yes, we relish the thrill of the hunt. But rarely of living people, we are no bounty hunters. So be assured your presence here isn’t threatened. In fact, that just makes me all the more… curious… What could someone like you have I wonder? My mesoglea itches at the possibilities.”

Relaxing, just a little bit. Chak nods and presents her datapad.

“Then you are in the most fortunate position. For I have what may very likely be the most significant discovery in galactic history, and very possibly more. I do not say this lightly, and I would not approach someone like you unless I seriously believed it. What you may help uncover could shake the very foundations of the stars themselves.” she expounds.

Leaning forward with incredible interest, the Truba’s lights swirl in anticipation.

“I’m ready to be convinced of such.” she says.

“Well, let’s start with this; have you heard of a ‘Manarian’?” Chak speaks as she delves into her own personal notes.

A shift of peculiar seriousness comes across the Truba. Less entertained by what the Cali propped up, already believing there’s truly something special to the claim.

“Indeed… that term has come up on a few sparse finds. There has yet to be any clear indication of what it means or stands for.” Thera replies.

“Oh, what were these previous ‘finds’ if I may ask?” Chak asks, now mutually curious.

“It came up in a few degraded and corrupted logs of a few derelict vessels. Mostly ancient Noxii tech.” Brad answers with a wave of his hand, “All we could make out of any of it was a general wide-spread negative connotation. My money is on a plague or networking virus.”

“Not quite…” Chak says, “Though there is a disturbing element of that, in a way.”

“Fascinating… Congratulations, my dear Cali. I’m already inclined to accept this mysterious job of tracking down this ‘station debris’... What are the initial coordinantes you have, and how did you come across them?” Thera inquires.

“I’d love to inform you of the nature of what a Manarian is referring to and all the information regarding it. However I’d prefer we come to an agreement beforehand. What I am privy to is all really sensitive, and shouldn’t be so carelessly shared. I hope you understand.” Chak counters before fully deactivating her datapad.

Brad looks over to his boss with an arched eyebrow, curious to see how she will proceed. She seems to ‘pout’ while drinking from her beverage, annoyed that this Cali wasn’t so foolish as she first expected.

“That is fair. Depending on the significance of the find, we won’t require a credit payment. We will require to be able to copy and backup any data we discover, as that suits as a payment. But if we have found nothing, a fee for our time and efforts will be necessary. Unless of course, you’d be willing to pay with a scrape of what you know? A small taste? Something that may make our involvement worthwhile regardless of the outcome?” she poses.

Chak thinks on it, deciding that although she can afford the credits, she no longer holds the same resources she once did. Perhaps sharing something that can push these seekers into their optimal motivation would prove effective in every sense.

“Manarians were a species, and the information we hold is dated back ten thousand years ago. I hope that will suffice until we come to an agreement.”

“Seems like a hell of a promising lead, boss.” Brad says with an accepting tone.

“Indeed…” Thera mulls over, “Almost too promising… but I can think of no reason to turn away from this opportunity. Very well. You will have the History Seekers under contact, on one condition.” she says as she lifts her arm equivalent up and gently swims it above the table. Her grasper is a plume of fur-like branching straids used as manipulators, “You allow me another manner of taste.”

Chak cautiously eyes the grasper, unsure if she should proceed. The Truba’s manipulators are well known to be hypersensitive to ‘taste’ and can process a whole accurate narrative based on the molecules and particles left on someone. Though it’s limited without context, there’s a lot a Truba can gleam from such contact.

It’s compromising, very compromising. And unless the Truba is incredibly well trusted and honest, it’s difficult to ascertain how much the Truba actually gained from the contact.

The Cali thinks back, trying to recall if there is anything she touched that may give away what she already knows about the Manarians. Nothing comes to mind, so with great hesitancy she accepts.

“Very well.” she utters, hoping it’s the right choice to make.

Allowing the Truba’s strands to weave and envelop her grasper, Chak watches as the Truba’s expressions change from several states of confusion and realization. Some subtle, others very much not so.

Satisfied -though that may be the wrong term for it- the Truba pulls away, her mind in a million places at once.

“You…” she initially says, trying to focus her train of thought, “Certainly have an… intimate relationship with this female Terran… And have only suffered a non-related arm injury since? Color me impressed…”

Chak’s eyes flash against her will as she otherwise retains her composure.

“Oh, yes. My injury occurred a month ago. My arm is free from the sling but is still rather sore. Shall we compile an official contract?” she asks.

-

“Duuuude… it’s like, you’ve done this sort of thing before!” Dave says as Simone holds herself in a standing position against the bed.

“Gone through the ringer a few times… Got to get everything moving…” she responds as her legs, arms and back shake from lack of use, “I think I should be back to normal in two weeks…”

“Optimistic! I like it! I induced scientific beefcake muscle stimulations while you were out, so like, your welcome man.”

Simone smirks as she strains to walk side to side, trying to remember her sense of balance again.

“Thanks Dave... It’s also great that… my dad was a literal physical therapist…” Simone grunts as she slowly squats and struggles to push herself back up in a standing position, “Muscles lose… about twelve percent… of strength… for every week when… fuck’n… bedridden…”

“And look at you go! Still kicking ass!”

After a nearly failed squat Simone plants her top half on the bed to keep herself from collapsing to the floor. She pants, annoyed by her current state of fatigue.

“Just… got to keep… moving…” she sighs before using her trembling arms to pull herself up to sit on the cushion.

“Remember it’s not just your bod that needs tending to! That brick of a noggin you got is gonna need a bit of rest while we gradually get ya back into the flow of things again.”

“I know… But I want to remedy the ‘bod’ first… man… I’m hungry.” Simone responds.

“Your recovering muscles are definitely gonna need the grub to do it man! Lemme just get Seven to bring over-”

“No. Just ask them to help me walk to the mess hall.” Simone corrects.

“Can do bruh!”

Not even thirty seconds later the hovering chef emerges through the medbay door.

“I have prepared something for you-ou since being informed of your fully resumed-ed consciousness!” the bot announces as they move to the bedside and extend their bulky mechanical arm in a downward L shape.

“Thanks bud…” Simone chuckles as she takes hold of the offered appendage and pulls herself back up in a standing orientation, “Should I be brought back here or my room?” she asks Dave.

“Back here, my guy. Just so I can creepily stare at your brain matter for a few days.”

“Right… Alright.” the redhead concedes before slowly taking several assisted steps towards the door, “Thanks for everything you do Dave, really. You’re a good friend.”

As she and the awoken bot leaves, the autosurgeon processes freeze up for a few nano-seconds. The machine immediately runs a diagnostic, but cannot find the source of the strange anomaly. Possibly a hiccup in the personality matrix? If that’s the case then deleting a re-constructing it would be necessary.

However, Dave doesn’t do that. Not for any particular reason. He just doesn’t, completely disregarding that the oddity occurred at all to move on to matters with higher priority.

-

Thera accepts the mutually signed contract on a fresh datapad.

“Wonderful. My ship should be prepared to embark by the end of the standard day. We will go to the provided coordinantes and start doing what we do best.” she informs as she passes the datapad along to Brad for safekeeping.

“Oh, why would you need to physically travel to the original coordinates?” Chak inquires.

“For fun, my dear Cali friend. I doubt we will physically find anything that may lead to the eventual wrecksite, but it can’t hurt to see if there are any remaining treasures while we work on a prediction path. Especially if these ‘Manarians’ are involved, even a scrap of metal from their own tech would be a miraculous artifact in itself.” the Truba answers as she leans back content with the possibilities, “This may very well be the defining work of our career, and so we will not squander such an opportunity. You have my word on that.”

“That is splendid to hear, Thera. We will be counting on you and your team and expect periodic updates, even if there’s nothing of note to report.” Chak reminds her gently.

“Heh… nothin’ new there…” Brad comments while he scrolls through the agreement.

“Brad, although the contract is final it’s imperative that we maintain some sort of professionalism.” Thera scolds tiredly.

Rolling his eyes, Brad grants an non-enthusiastic nod.

“Whatever you say, boss.” he grumbles.

Before the Truba can lay into him once more, Meekie speaks up.

“Have question. If no mind?” she says hesitantly.

“Of course.” Thera redirects, falling back into pleasantries.

“Not ever see kind like you. Gratt new to stars, much ignorant. Are you ‘deathworlder’ too?” the female Gratt asks.

Thera sings an amused laugh at such a preposterous inquiry, however soon corrects herself.

“No. In fact I dare say that the Truba are the furthest from such a designation. Not only are we frail, but our world is renowned for being a gentle paradise.” she answers as she stirs her drink playfully.

“She might as well be fluttering tissue paper.” Brad inserts both seemingly amused and annoyed by that fact.

“Then… you not scared of injure?” Meeki presses.

“It’s a concern of course, but I have a rabble of Terrans around me at all times to keep that from happening.” the Truba replies as one of her extremities glances the top of Brad’s head, who pushes it away with the back of his hand, “Not that I don’t get hurt from time to time, but unlike most of my species I place a high value on adventure in life. I find myself rather bored without a small thrill of risk. I’m sure the Cali here knows a similar feeling…”

“You can say that, I suppose.” Chak agrees.

Meeki nods and struggles to form her next question, mulling over the words she knows.

“How you… How you meet Terrans? Start singing tavern?” she formulates.

“Now that’s a long story…” Thera sighs as she gets lost in the recollection.

“This bitch outright purchased this place, a half-decent ship and hired a band of washed up Terrans with no prospects to fulfill her unhealthy need to discover the mysteries of the universe.” Brad summarizes with a devilish wink to his boss.

“Crude… but yes… However I’ll add that those Terrans I hired were a defunct Private Investigator firm. A skillset that I knew would prove useful.” Thera responds clearly annoyed by her subordinate, “Apologies for Brad’s demeanor. He is quite cunning and smarter than he presents himself as.”

“I’m your Right Hand for a reason, nightlight.” he chuckles with a wave of his hand.

Chak lightly scratches at the sides of her head amused.

“No need for apologies! Our Terran shares a similar disposition! Believe it or not I find it rather charming!” she replies with a soft bounce.

Filled with pride and validation the male Terran crosses his arms and gives the Truba a smug raised eye tuft.

“I believe it…” Thera mumbles, avoiding visual contact so as to not grant the man’s ego any affirmation.

“I like her!” Brad notifies.

“I don’t care, Brad...” the Truba sharply counters, sending the Terran into grizzled barks of amusement, “We will be sure to send you a notification once we arrive on site. I look forward to working with you in this operation. Unfortunately I must excuse myself to prepare for the voyage. Please, enjoy the Nomad’s services and performances while you’re here. It’s been a pleasure.” Thera says before standing up, soon followed by Brad.

“Thank you for accepting our terms. Indeed we anticipate hearing from you in the near future.” Chak responds before the three members of the Kwip-chap crew are left at the table.

“Went good!” Nodrin says cheerily.

“Yes! Much good!” Meeki agrees, “We watch more music?”

Feeling a bit guilty, Chak shifts in her seat.

“That went better than expected. Hopefully they truly are a group worth trusting. And if you two really wanted to stay for another show… that would be perfectly fine… but… if it’s alright I’d prefer to return to the ship. I’d go by myself, but…” she tries to explain before a Gratt’s hand carefully lands on her shoulder.

“See Simone. We understand.” Meeki assures.

“Thank you. You’re free to return here once I’m back aboard.” the Cali says relieved.

“Is… okay to buy from shop I see? On way?” Nodrin inquires.

“Oh, that would be perfectly acceptable!”

-

“You… sure?” Simone says with a mouthful of burger.

It annoys her that she has to eat a cut up burger with a fork, but damn does the machine chef know exactly what she likes. Even down to having the greens under the patty to keep the buns from becoming a wet soiled mess. Seriously, why isn’t this a more widespread thing? Do people just assume it’s supposed to be above the bun because big companies do it to make their product more visually appealing for marketing?

Getting lost in her own argument against no one else in the room, she shakes herself from it and chuckles at the fact that she still very much feels like herself.

“I believe it will be a perfect-ect form of escapism. It will also expand my creative-ive capabilities.” Seven asserts with a cranial nod.

“I mean… I’m totally down. I’ll ask around, and see who else is willing to give it a shot. It’s mostly a Terran thing, so it may be hard for the others to wrap their heads around.” Simone responds with a sluggish shrug.

“I have already inquired for interest-est. I will plan it accordingly-ly now that you are awake.” Seven replies cheerily.

“Ah… cool!” the redhead says before forking another bite, before she plumments the morsel into her maw she pauses, and looks to the bot, “Seven?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve said that you’ll never harm a living creature, or at least do everything in your power not to. What if you were placed in a situation where one of us would die if you didn’t kill our attacker?” Simone asks, surprising the bot with the out of nowhere question.

“I would process all potential ways to hold-old up to my convictions. However, if the conclusion was nothing-ing but your hypothetical scenario… the well being of my friends will-ill take precedence.” Seven answers.

“And… just for mind-exercise sake… what if it was one of your friends about to kill another?” Simone presses.

The bot is silent for a few seconds.

“Without context… I am uncertain of what I’d do. Not until the moment-ent came.” they answer honestly, “What brings these lines of questions?”

Simone shrugs.

“Just curious. We see a lot of shit, and a lot of shit happens to us. Whether we like it or not, those hypotheticals aren’t so out there… you know? And for the security of everyone on board, I like to know where you stand.” she replies honestly, although she holds a bit of her concern back.

“I understand.” Seven responds, “Even as a pacifist, I promise-ise to not compromise the safety of the others here.”

“Good to know.” Simone says with a soft smile, “This burger and fries are amazing by the way. But… cutting the fries in half may have been a bit excessive…”

“My bad.” Seven states as they glance at the platter on the table.

“Hey, at least they’re steak fries!” Simone jests, giving a weak elbow nudge into the bot’s side.

As hungry as she is, eating through the food proves to be a lot of unexpected effort that takes quite a bit of time. When she finally wraps up eating her first plate, the mess hall door opens with the sound of quickly approaching clatter of hooves.

Simone turns just enough for a Cali to slam into her front side. Normally, she’s a brick wall without even trying. In this circumstance? She might as well have been a sack of helpless potatoes.

Unable to correct her already loose sense of balance, Simone flops backward and slams on the solid floor with a confused Cali as a panicking blanket.

“Hhhhhehehnnnnn…Ouch…” Simone chuckles through clenched teeth.

“Oh no! Oh-oh I’m so sorry Simone! I didn’t think- I just saw that you were- I’m-” Chak stammers as she moves to get off her prone Terran.

With a weak grip Simone stops the Cali by wrapping her tired arms up in an embrace. The weight of her arms alone is enough for Chak to be pressed snugly against the Terran.

“Good to see that you’re okay too… How’s the arm?” the Terran says with a forgiving smile.

On the brink of gray eyes, Chak buries her face into the Terran’s chest and fully hugs her back.

“Better… Still sore… but better…” she huffs in a muffled answer.

“Sorry to be out for so long… Hopefully this will be the last time I wake up in the med bay.” Simone jests.

Chak nods with her face still buried.

“I’m glad you’re okay… and I’m so sorry people keep hurting you like this…” she says.

“We’ll get ‘em back for it. Count on it.” the Terran assures as she moves a hand up to the back of the Cali’s head.

The Cali nods again, squeezing her love with all her might.

“Sorry for knocking you over…” Chak apologies, finally looking up to see the redhead’s face.

“Probably the only time you’ll ever be able to.” Simone counters with a wink “What business were you doing on the station?”

Chak’s eyes flash.

“Oh! I tracked down the ‘History Seekers’ from Denver’s intel! They have fully agreed to assist us in tracking down the Manarian station from your vision!” Chak updates excitedly.

Simone raises her eye tufts in surprise.

“No shit? Damn, nice work hun! Are they pricey?” she asks.

“Not at all! They are led by an eccentric Truba who is star-bent on rediscovering history! As long as they have digital data copies of what we find and any physical ‘artifacts’ that we approve of, they will be more than satisfied.” the Cali informs.

“No kidding? Damn. Really nice work.” Simone reiterates, placing her craned head back down on the cool floor. Which admittedly felt amazing in her current condition.

“Did I interrupt your meal?” Chak asks, peeking back at the table.

“Nah, Seven is making me another serving. Kalig’raggis. Speaking of which… would you mind getting ‘em from the kitchen? I think I’m gonna need their help getting back up.” Simone replies as she flops her arms back down to the floor, freeing the Cali princess.

“Oh- of course! I’m so sorry! I’ll get them.”

Watching the Cali carefully stand up over her, Simone can’t help but roll her eye tufts.

“It’s all good… totally worth this view…” she tries to impishly growl only to falter into a few coughs.

Chak’s eyes simultaneously narrow and illuminate.

“You are so very lucky to be in the early stages of recovery…” she remarks, planting her lower limbs on her hips. Mimicking the Terran’s own sassy gesture.

“Never stopped me before!” Simone hoarsely laughs.

Chak shakes her head endeared by the woman she stands over.

“I’ll be right back, love.” she says as she steps away, rocking her posterior just a bit as she can still feel the Terran’s gaze upon her.

Chuckling at that, Simone attempts in vain to get up. Though she thinks it’s possible for her to manage, it’s sketchy at best and risking slamming her already fucked up head into the table edge convices her to lay back down.

For the twenty seconds she was alone, she simply embraced the cold floor.

It’s going to be physically difficult for the next few weeks. But that doesn’t bother her. In fact, she can’t help but feel a sense of invincibility.

She recalls the moment she was initially ambushed by the Children of Gaia. Despite wearing power armor, all it took was for her to pop off her helmet to be defeated. A small prick to the neck, then immediate blurs.

Then she thinks of the crab-fuck she fought on Kamoi. Who had her shot in the back before declaring some sort of bullshit ‘honorable’ duel.

Next is this. Somehow while fighting Sam, the bitch tried to take her out with her with some sort of engineered brain-virus.

Every time, Simone beat them. Each and every-

Wait.

Simone reflexively tries to sit up, but stops herself.

The only time she was around Sam, was either when she was in sealed armor or with a medical barrier.

Did… did someone else do it!? Someone she trusted!?

There was so many opportunities.

Simone feels her heartbeat spike, and sweat begins to develop.

“Nonono… not again… not again!” she internally screams as all the faces of her home begins to be covered in a shade of corruption and betrayal.

“Simone!? What’s wrong? Love?” Chak voice speaks up, breaking through the Terran’s panic attack.

She feels Cali hands brush through her half inch short head fur in calming strokes.

“Do you need to be returned to Dave?” Seven’s voice says.

Blinking tears free, Simone finds the blurred visage of Chak leaning over her.

“Chak? I was wearing armor… Sam couldn’t have given me the virus… She couldn't have-”

Chak chirps softly and soothingly like a Cali mother to her young, having fully recognised the state her Terran is in.

“Simone… she damaged your helmet remember? I can’t promise it wasn’t someone else, but Sam had the opportunity. I believe it was her. She was out to kill you, and there would have been many other more efficient methods if it was anyone else.” she gently points out.

She’s right. That detail somehow slipped away in her rising panic. Although there’s still a creeping potential doubt, Chak is completely right.

“Fuck… I’m such a fucking idiot…” Simone rasps as she closes her eyes in embarrassment.

“I don’t believe you are, you’re simply reacting from what others have done. Betrayal like that hurts, and it’s understandable why you feel this way.” Chak coos as she wipes the Terran eye-water from her face.

“But… what if Sam wasn’t the only one who-” Simone automatically replies.

“We can’t make those assumptions. Not without cause or a motive. Okay?” Chak interjects.

“Okay…” Simone agrees, “You’re right. It’s just… the possibility scares the living shit outta me… because it happened before and… sorry… I need to calm down… naalmas down…” te redhead says as she breathes in and out slowly to help bring her heart rate back down.”

Chak tilts her head as her translator is unable to tell her what ‘naalmas’ is. But perhaps it was a Terran spiritual term that Simone was using to center herself.

Regardless, it doesn't matter in this moment.

“How about we have Seven bring you back to the med bay so you can eat your second serving in bed? Take things easy, just for a bit.” Chak poses.

“Yeah… yeah, that’ll work.”