We Need a Deathworlder!

“Greetings! Welcome to Vapor’Perna! May I ask for your incoming business class?” an automated communication says from Chucknuq’s console.

“Aurora.” the captain responds promptly before beginning the landing procedures.

“Understood! A team of our highly trained, complimentary greeting service staff will be awaiting your arrival at Bay 330PA. We here at Vapor’Perna are honored to host such a treasured guest!”

Chucknuq enters in the transmitted Bay Code for the autopilot to take over and begin the navigation to the designated section of the biggest privately owned station in the galaxy.

He then leans back in his seat in contemplative thought. He taps his tiny claws into the seat’s upper limb brace.

“Simone has bought Chakalata’motass time, however our situation has yet to truly change. Running is all we can do, and eventually even our single Terran’s strength will have her limit.” he concedes internally.

Wherever this path leads, the endpoint is yet to look bright. Unless something is to change, there’s going to be pain, suffering, and loss.

“Then may the journey there have many lights for her. To make it all worth it, a hundred times over.” the captain hopes.

-

Setting down her soldering tool, Simone begins to click and snap her plasma colt back together. It’s been a long while since having to do repairs on it this major, but thankfully it’s nothing the Terran didn’t understand the basics of.

Knowing that they are to be disembarking some time soon, this seems to be an important priority to get this damn thing patched up enough for it to hopefully not become a glorified hand grenade.

After completely reassembling it, she activates it, seeing the green indicator light flicker to life. Though the not-so enthusiastic light brings a bit of concern, it’s gonna have to do.

She then moves on to her second project; sewing up the holes in her jacket. However, to her annoyance, it would require more material for patchwork. This is her fourth jacket since striking it out on her own, but she had grown really attached to this one.

Making a mental note to keep an eye out for a replacement while off ship, Simone sighs and stretches her arms up. Her right shoulder feeling almost back to normal alleviates her bitter mood somewhat. Maybe she can finally start seriously working out again.

A knock comes from her door. Knowing who it is, Simone can’t help but slump down back to her desk.

“Come in.” she grants.

The Cali emerges from the door carrying a kitchen canister in her hands.

“Oh, how are you feeling today?” Chak asks as she walks up.

Simone’s face flushes from the awkwardness flooding her chest.

“Uh, better. Yeah.” she responds before clearing her throat. “Whacha got there?” she inquires tilting her head to the canister.

“I’m happy to hear that! This is actually for you! It’s a hot protein broth, something to nourish you in case your digestive system is still not fully recovered.” Chak answers as she offers it.

Recalling having this top tier shit not too long ago Simone accepts it happily.

“Honestly, I could go for a grease drenched pizza right now, but this shit is ten times better than it should be. Thanks.”

“Carefull, it’s rather hot. I fear the dispenser may be malfunct- WAIT!” Chak panics as she watches the Terran immediately begin to chug down the contents.

Without stopping for a breath Simone polishes off the canister before releasing a heartily satisfied breath.

“Damn that’s good!” the Terran speaks while catching her breath, enjoying the near scalding sensation down her core.

“Simone!” Chak cautiously scolds. “That could have really injured you!”

“Nah, I used to down hot coco hotter than that as a kid.” Simone dismisses with a smirk.

Chak shakes her head bewildered.

“What are you Terrans made of?” she says in nearly amused awe.

“Ten percent hornyness, fifteen percent masochism, thirty percent stubbornness, forty percent spite, and six percent not thinking things through.” Simone explains retaining her smirk.

“But… that doesn’t- oh-OH…” Chak chuckles.

“Exactly.” Simone winks. “So… you gonna tell me where we’re landing?”

The Cali crosses her arms behind her back and bounces softly.

“It’s a safe place where you can relax and won’t have to worry about me. We’ll be spending a week there as a sort of… shopping run I suppose. It has abundant places to purchase things we need and more than likely find someone you can take counsel in!” Chak describes tilting her head coyly.

Simone narrows her eyes now suspicious.

“A week is a pretty long shopping run, Chak… and if it’s so safe why aren't you saying the name? I can’t do my job if I’m out of the loop.”

Chak deflates a bit, slightly disappointed.

“Oh, I was hoping to keep it a surprise until we stepped off-ship. Though… I suppose that wouldn't be very kind towards you and your duties. My apologies. We are taking leave on Vapor’Perna station.”

Simone’s eyes widen and brow furrows.

“Hold up… That prissy high-class station that caters to rich fucks? I hear just a day there costs more than a year of my old military pay… how the fuck can you not only pay for it, but justify paying that much?” she says, almost sounding offended by the reveal.

Not quite expecting this reaction from the Terran, Chak considers her next words carefully as she doesn't understand what Simone is feeling at the moment.

“Oh, well… uhm… I’m royalty Simone… I already have significant built up credit funds there that I haven't touched in quite a while. There should be plenty there for a week’s stay, two if we were frugal with their offered services. So I doubt I’ll be spending much of my own credits for the stay funds itself.” Chak explains as she starts to scratch her face with her lower limbs.

“Alright… but if it’s so safe why haven’t you been there in a while?” Simone inquires further.

“It’s certainly safe for a time, though I won't risk staying in any place for too long. If everyone after me knew where I was or where I’d run to hide, then I would become predictable and much easier to... find. If that were to be the case, I may get trapped on the station until my credits ran out. I’ve been saving the need to come here for a special occasion, or a dire emergency perhaps. Thankfully it’s the former in our case. Any more concerns?” Chak expounds.

Simone rolls her chair closer to the Cali, lacing her fingers together in thought.

“Okay… that’s a good point. But I need to know a few more things. First, just how is this station so safe? Considering your bounty I’m doubtful the rich won't pass up the opportunity to become richer. Second, I get that you’re a princess and all, but where the fuck are all these credits coming from? And third… look… I’m beyond appreciative and grateful of you. You’ve seen me at my lowest, and allowed me to air my dirty laundry… then being so nice about it… I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity, for just doing what you're already paying me to do. It may be smarter to hold off until an emergency comes up, I’m not worth-” the Terran is cut off by Cali hands cupping the sides of her face.

Simone looks up to catch the Cali’s, and has to fight herself to keep it.

“You are certainly more than worth it, Simone. Not only have you saved my life on multiple harrowing occasions, but you never hesitated to risk your life for mine. No amount of credits is worth your life, and it guilts me to no end how necessary you are to my survival. The least I can offer is to give you an escape for a week. You’re worth it to me, and I hope you’ll be worth it to yourself one day soon.” Chak assures.

“Careful there Princess… you... might just…” Simone trails off, losing her snarky and witty response to the comforting presence Chak brings.

The Terran’s mind is simply too tired to lift up her defense mechanisms. She grants the Cali that much.

“If you say so.” Simone says with a nod.

“Oh, I do.” Chak releases the Terran’s head. “As for your other concerns, the station is completely privately owned. No government has direct influence, and the station takes great pride in protecting the interests of its patrons. Although this usually refers to allowing under the table business dealings, my situation is ultimately no different. No one will know who I am unless I declare it loudly while in the markets. And even if someone were to recognize me, there are ruthlessly protected rules of the station. Anyone would be contending with the station itself if they wished to harm me. That means excommunication from the station and the sanctuary it provides. That is, if they survive leaving at all. Regardless of the credits on my head, the patrons have more to lose than gain in taking action against me. All communications are tracked and monitored by an A.I as well. Although we lose a sense of privacy, if any attempts reporting my presence here are made, then the result will be the same as if they drew a gun to my head.” Chak informs.

“So don’t talk dirty over the comms. Got it.” Simone acknowledges.

“As long as you’re not threatening or plotting against any other patron you’re free to speak as normal. The A.I seems to be pretty good at picking up on Terran sarcasm and such.”

“Right. What about your seemingly endless amount of credits?” Simone reminds.

Chak shifts on her hooves uncomfortably.

“Oh… well you see, it’s not endless… not really. Apologies, it’s not something I like to talk about.” Chak admits.

“Had to do a few under the table dealings yourself?” Simone poses.

To this Chak shakes her head assertively.

“No, nono. Nothing like that. Although I have been cut off from the royal treasury I still have access to Central Galactic banking. Not only do I have my own assets, but… I’ve inherited all my siblings’ assets as well. All their credits, businesses, property, etc they owned outside Cali territory? All under my current ownership because of Central Galactic law. Which, as horrible as it is to inherit over two hundred deceased royal family member’s assets… I’d be lying if I claimed it hasn’t been a major factor in my survival.” Chak explains scratching at the sides of her face again.

“Ahh… I’m such an asshole, sorry.” Simone says, motioning an apologetic hand.

“Oh, no it’s alright! Sharing that information is fine, it’s just not easy to linger on. I feel guilty, I suppose.”

“Hey, there’s nothing you should feel guilty for. Better it all fall into your hands than your father’s right?”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” Chak agrees solemnly. “They are gone, but in a way they are helping me every day.”

Simone rolls back to the desk and inspects her plasma colt one more time.

“Will Brom be a problem in any of this? Does he have any more of a claim to the inheritances?” she asks.

“Technically yes, however since he was missing and not able to accept any inheritance his claims were forfeited to me. If he wished to make a claim at this point, I’m not sure what he would be able to accomplish in a legal sense. Though I’d be more than happy to surrender fifty percent once I help him see reason.” Chak shrugs.

Biting back a blunt remark, Simone looks back over the Cali with concerned eyes.

“Just… be careful Bo Peep.” she utters steadily.

Chak’s eyes dim slightly.

“You believe such a thing is foolish.” Chak picks up.

“A bit, but I also believe you’re smart as fuck. If that’s the play you want to make, I’ll accept it.” The Terran assures, as she stands up and pops her neck in two sharp twists.

“Thank you Simone.” Chak chirps softly, doing her best to ignore the grotesque snapping of joints.

Before Simone can return a ‘You bet.’ a voice comes in via their comms.

“We have reached our destination! Prepare to disembark in a few minutes!” Chucknuq announces cheerfully.

“Talk about a last minute warning… Headin’ to the cargo bay doors.” Simone grumbles back. “Uhh… are weapons allowed on the station?” she asks Chak.

“Oh, for security personnel such as yourself? Absolutely!” Chak confirms.

Feeling a bit more at ease, Simone holsters her dubious sidearm and fits on her slightly swissed jacket. The two then make their way to the cargo bay to find Chucknuq himself standing by the cargo doors.

“Taking the time off as well I see?” She says with a wave.

“Ha! The Kwip-Chap will be in secure harbor, and it has been a rather long bout since I ventured off the ship. I’m not adverse to a tad bit of pampering as well! Bwhaha!” the captain responds, brushing down his already wrinkle-free uniform.

“Oh, spare no expense Chucknuq! You certainly deserve it!” Chak perks up excitedly.

“Oh-hoho! Indeed that’s my intent, your majesty!”

With that, Chucknuq presses the manual indicator to open the loading bay doors. Immediately the velvety air of the exterior atmosphere rushes in like a cascading flood. Simone feels as though she is breathing in more aroma than oxygen as the brightly lit exterior fully opens up to the three crewmates.

Assuming her role, the Terran steps ahead and down the ramp first. She’s caught off guard when she realizes the bay is more akin to a secluded mansion’s plaza. There are no dock workers or the like, just a lone Northa pool boy tending to a jacuzzi and an approaching group of four Opaloons clad in orange formal attire.

Simone turns her attention to the group awaiting for… whatever the procedure is for parking a ship in a place like this. The shortest of the quad squad spindly pale individuals takes a deep bow.

“Greetings, our treasured guest. I’m obligated to request for patience as we finalize the preparations for your stay. I sincerely hope it’s not an inconvenience to you or the esteemed princess.” it introduces in a hollow dry voice.

Simone crosses her arms.

“Right… is there anything I need to sign or wave?” she asks, eyeing the impressive constructivism mansion built into the back wall.

“All administrivia has been addressed and properly handled on our part. Our treasured guests should expect no such trivial matters.” the greeter assures.

Simone releases a tired breath, before turning back to her crewmates and waving them over. She was completely out of her field now, best let the little rich girl deal with it.

Chak graciously patters down the ramp with a very light aura of veiled mirth. Followed by a slithering amused Chucknuq.

“Oh, hello! We are honored to stay on your beautiful station, may I ask what delays you speak of?” the Cali chirps.

The Opaloon greeter gently looks at the princess with an unchanging expression of devoid black eyes and perked neck-long vertical slit of a mouth.

“Princess Chakalata’motass, welcome. We sincerely apologize, this is our remaining available estate we have to offer you. At present it is not quite equipped to host such a colorful variety of guests.” they explain.

“So not Deathworlder certified?” Simone bluntly cuts in with a smirk.

“Simone!” Chak scolds. “Apologies, it is a lovely estate and we are grateful you are making accommodations for our crew. Though I must admit I’m surprised, is the station that busy as of late?”

“We pride ourselves on impeccable service and safety of our treasured patrons. Allow me to clarify, this is the only estate that fits your very particular circumstances, princess. Although the risk of conflict is absolutely minimal, we decided the best estate is one as far from any other possible incompatible parties. Unfortunately it is not best suited for a Terran’s occupation, nor is it simply prepped as such. We are currently renovating both the kitchen and a lavatory for your needs at no charge. It will only take but an hour, again we apologize for any inconvenience.” They bow again, accompanied by the other three.

“Oh, Simone, isn't that so kind of them? I’m sure you are very appreciative!” Chak says in a hinting manner.

Simone raises an eye tuft and thumbs behind her.

“I mean… if I needed to shit the the ship’s right there-”

“Simone…” Chak utters with an incredibly piercing gaze.

The Terran chuckles, waving away the tension.

“Geez I’m just kiddin’!” she defends before turning back to the greeter. “Yes, thank you.”

“We aim to please our treasured guests. Although the estate is currently inaccessible we do invite you all to a complimentary dine and repose service. Would that be acceptable?” they inquire.

Chak quickly grabs Simone’s hand.

“Yes. That would be lovely! We have some business to conduct afterward so no rush on the renovations.” she says, speaking in a conclusive manner.

“Very good. Please, accompany us.” the greeter turns with their fellows and begins leading the trio past the estate to a private automated shuttle pad.

The shuttle’s interior guest exclusive section is spacious with luxurious seats. As Simone sits down she sinks down as if the seating is a bean bag in disguise. Chak’s eyes widen seeing this, and giggles as the Terran shifts around unsure of what to do.

The Cali hopps up next to her, barely making an indent in the seat.

“Come on… I can’t be the only Terran here…” Simone mumbles as she gives up and fully leans back into the sinking trap.

“Bwaha! Of course not! However since Ms. Chakalata’Motass is the priority patron, the service is focused on her needs first and foremost.” Chucknuq points out.

“Fair enough I guess.” Simone concedes as she crosses her arms in a pout.

“Although that may be the case, you are my priority for this stay. Understood?” Chak says as she taps the side of her head to Simone’s shoulder.

The Terran reflexively rolls her eyes, but can’t fight a slight upward pull on the corner of her mouth.

The flight is thankfully short. The shuttle lands on an overhanging platform just aside from the bustling air lanes. The doors open only a few yards away from an unmarked establishment entryway.

As if automated themselves, the four greeters meet back up with the trio.

“Please enjoy these accommodations. After you are satisfied this shuttle can take you to the markets or any establishment you desire. Feel free to return to the estate as it should be completed by the time you are ready. If you need any service from the staff don’t hesitate to approach any station employee for requests.” the greeter dismisses before bowing away to another task with their entourage.

“Thank you!” Chak calls after them.

“Thank fuck, I thought they were going to be stuck at our hip the entire time.” Simone says quietly enough for only her companions to hear.

“Oh, they’re only greeters Simone. I’m sure they have better things to do than monitor us.” Chak responds as she starts walking backwards to the entryway giddily.

Simone shakes her head, smiling at seeing the Cali’s genuine excitement.

She follows her two crewmates into the establishment where a male Northa attendant immediately guides them to a private side room where a low table adorned with cushioned seats awaits, behind is a floor tub filled with a thick bubbling pitch black substance.

Simone’s face scrunches up.

“Huh… smells like… vanilla?” she comments, not quite right but she can’t think of anything else to compare the scent to.

“Is that an issue?” the Northa inquires, doing her best to remain professional by the rough Deathworlder.

“No, just not what I expected. No worries.” the Terran thumbs up, trying to appear less intimidating.

“Excellent. In that case, may I please take your dining order?” the Northa asks, tapping at his Lens with thick meaty phalanges.

Chak whips around with her massive eyes flashing.

“Oh, what do you serve in this fine establishment?” she counter-asks.

“We order in whatever you desire! Although we can’t promise anything, we highly encourage our treasured guests to please make any request and we’ll do our best to fulfill it!” He responds cheerfully to the Cali’s delight.

“Could I possibly request kol dew? Any form of it is perfectly fine, as long as the dish is safe for my species to eat!” Chak says, folding her hands together in anticipation.

“Of course, that is a common enough request! And you sir?” the Northa asks Chucknuq.

“Let me see… I could go for zleek rounds with tabout sauce. Oh, and a fine sunfire brew for the three of us to share would be lovely! Ha! Would it not?” he offers to the others.

“Oh, that indeed sounds lovely!” Chak agrees.

The Northa then turns to the Terran with trepidation. His thick black fur wavers along the shoulders hoping for nothing too gruesome

“I can literally order anything I want?” Simone asks with a sly smirk.

“...Certainly.” the poor Northa responds expressing poorly hidden unease.

Simone deviously leans forward and clears her throat.

“Alright… I want a double smashed patty grilled beef burger topped with cheesesteak, brined green chilis, grilled onion, bacon, and provolone cheese. With a side a thick-ass potato fries with honey mustard dip. For a side drink I’d like a tall glass of chilled cola. Get all that?” Simone says half teasingly and half filled with sheer hope.

“Is… is peps’rac okay?” the Northa asks, dreading to voice the glaring exception to the Deathworlder.

Simone rears back, raising an eye tuft.

“Wait… seriously? Out of all that, the thing you can’t cover is the soda?” she inquires, genuinely surprised.

The Northa bows deeply, now shaking.

“Our sincerest apologies, after some unfortunate conflicts with certain Terran companies we don’t have access to many Terran soda beverages.” he admits trembling.

“Ah… that’s... weird. But sure, if you can get everything else, then fuck’n sweet!” Simone says now matching Chak’s level of excitement.

The Northa bows and dismisses himself in a rush to escape.

“I’m starting to actually like this place.” Simone mentions as she heads to the door “I’ll be right back. Didn’t really have time to use the crapper before leaving the ship.”

“Oh… um… okay!” Chak responds watching the Terran leave.

“Always the charmer that one! Bwhaha!” Chucknuq comments as he disrobes his uniform and slithers down into the tar tub. “Ahh… by the stars… That’s nice.”

“She’s blunt, but I like that about her.” Chak says, sitting herself down at the table awaiting for the Terran’s return.

-

Stepping out of the establishment’s lavatory, Simone hears harsh words being spoken around a corner to a back private room. Curiously leaning up to the door it becomes clear that one of the voices sounds like a distressed Terran. That can only mean something bad was going down.

Simone lurches into action opening the door by hand. Immediately the sight confirms her concern. A Watath holds a Terran woman up against the wall with vicious long fangs exposed. The millipede-snake-like creature hisses as the sudden intruder.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting some kink-fest, but something tells me otherwise. Put the lady down, fucko.” Simone orders the Deathworlder, knowing full well of their venomous bite.

“This business is not of yours! Leave!” they snap back, thrusting the women higher against the wall.

“This doesn’t have to get messy.” Simone warns as she takes notice of the whole situation.

She lifts a hand and takes a slow step into the room.

“You think this vessel is frightened of you Terran!?” they hiss, stamping their many sharp legs into the ground agitated.

“I fought and killed many of your kind in the Calboor Arm conflict, I know exactly how to put you down before your venom can do me in. And I’ve been around enough of your kind to see that you have kids on the way.” Sione informs as she motions to the internal bulging egg sacs along the sides of the Watath’s lower torso. “Please don’t make me hurt them too.”

The mother’s distress shifts slightly in a mournful expression.

“Their father died working at this one’s company! This vessel’s time draws close, and they refuse to ensure the safe transport of this vessel’s children to our homeworld! They will have no one to protect them!” she argues bitterly.

“I’m so sorry! But that’s simply something we can’t legally do!” the hostage Terran pleads. “As I said, are prepared to compensate you for the loss-”

“WHAT GOOD WILL YOUR CREDITS BE IF IT’S STILL NOT ENOUGH TO PAY FOR SAFE TRANSPORT! I’M NOT WEALTHY, THIS VESSEL WORKS AS CLEANING STAFF!” the mother roars, extracting her fangs once more.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey… I’m sure something can be worked out here, let’s not do anything crazy.” Simone urges as she steps closer.

“Terran… this vessel’s life will be traded for her babies… and she’s willing to do anything for them…” the mother mourns, weaving her head side to side in a sign of sickening despair.

“Understood, loud and clear. So please give your kids the best possible chance by not murdering this poor messenger. From what I understand, the security around here is no joke. If I don’t put you down, they will. So let’s talk this out, alright?” Simone slowly places her hand on the upper limb holding up the fellow Terran.

The Watath twitches, stirring considerations. In the end, she thankfully releases the Terran who crumples to the floor. Backing away to the other side of the room the mother sobs in droning hisses.

Releasing a breath of relief, Simone offers a hand down to the roughed up individual. The Terran, clutching her pearls, accepts, and is pulled up by the surprising strength of her rescuer.

“That was… timely. Thank you.” the short mousy woman addresses gratefully.

“Why can’t you help her?” Simone bluntly asks, crossing her arms.

“Um… I really wish we could… but Valmore Ent is a Terran company with some ties directly to the Terran Union. With the political situation as it is… well you said yourself that you fought in one of the wars our people had with hers. Even if we subcontract another company it still risks causing an illegal diplomatic nightmare not only with the Wataths, but Central Galactic as well. If any Terran ships enter their territory they are bound to get attacked.” she explains eyeing the mother in the corner.

“Is there any sort of Watath company or embassy here? Or at least could you pay her enough for safe travel?”

“No. She wouldn’t have approached us if there was, and… that’s not my call. I’ve already appealed more than I should have to my superiors, but unfortunately they won’t budge on the compensation already offered. Also… it’s more complicated than transporting her. She needs a sensitivity controlled environment to ‘give birth’. That type of environmental facility isn’t something most ships can easily provide, so she must remain here to utilize one of the hospitals. After which, her young will be placed in a contained specialized nesting environment. Transporting that safely is the concern, it’s not something you can just toss in any random shipping vessel. Add the black market risks and costs… It's a lot to arrange.”

Simone steps back, biting her cheek she mulls over an uncomfortable solution.

“Pay her the agreed amount, those kids are gonna need something to lean on.” Simone says before turning to the mother. “How long?” she asks in the kindest yet direct tone she can mishmash.

“Soon… any time now… This vessel has been staying in a hospital before the incident” The Watath informs solemnly.

The Terran sighs, already knowing that she is going to commit to this incredibly bad idea.

“Then you best follow me, there’s someone that you ought to meet.”