Tales From the Terran Republic - Chapter 272: Little Xenos Have a Little Chat

Chapter 272: Little Xenos Have a Little Chat

“Let’s talk about Neeph,” Littlefoot said as she smiled in a not entirely friendly way, revealing her sharp, opossum-like teeth.

“I assume this isn’t about her truly excellent dumplings,” Uhrrbet smiled, revealing her fangs.

“Let’s skip the bullshit,” Littlefoot said, “Neeph might not be working for the Drop anymore, but she’s still one of my girls. Why are you really ‘helping’ her?”

“Ah,” Uhrrbet smiled, “There’s no such thing as true kindness and goodwill, is there? Not for people like us, anyway. You’re wondering what Neeph will wind up paying in the end, right?”

“Something like that.”

“Ma’am,” a white-scaled skink-like biped wearing a clay-stained smock said as it entered from a new side door, “Nema is running out of wood again. I need to gather some more deadwood from The Tangles.”

“Very good,” Uhrrbet replied, “I shall call for a van. Do we have enough food and water?”

“Yes, ma’am… Ma’am?”

“Yes, Gordon?”

“I was wondering… um…”

The little skink twisted his tail nervously.

“Yes?”

“I have some friends… and… um… It would be a great help if… um… I mean… I think it would be… If you wanted to…”

“Engage as many people as you like, Gordon,” Uhrrbet smiled. “Minimum wage plus the standard bonus based upon total weight harvested, to be split evenly across your team. Bear that in mind when determining the total number of people you hire.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Gordon exclaimed, “Thank you, ma’am!”

“No thanks are required,” Uhrrbet smiled, “It’s simply good business. Inform me before you depart. I will purchase the appropriate protective equipment and rent additional tools and equipment.”

“Ma’am?!?”

“There is no sign of demand for Nema’s pottery waning, so we will need deadwood on an ongoing basis. That means that you will almost certainly be engaging these people again. Proper protective equipment is not only good business, Gordon. It is required under Republic law. PPE is not expensive and something upon which I absolutely must insist.”

Uhrrbet looked at Gordon sternly.

“You will also take the drone with you,” she said firmly, “I will be using it to ensure that you are both taking all mandated breaks and are working safely. I have already cautioned you twice concerning your work practices. There won’t be a third warning. By Republic standards, two cautions were two cautions too many.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gordon said, looking down.

“I understand that it’s different where you came from,” Uhrrbet said gently, “But, for all its shortcomings. This is the Republic. You do not have to risk your health or safety anymore. Just do quality, consistent, and safe work, and you will find favor with me. I expect someone to put forth the effort for which they are paid… That means you really shouldn’t exhaust yourself or take any risks,” she added with a little smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gordon said a bit more cheerfully.

“One more thing,” Uhrrbet said with a smile, “It seems that Nema has stolen you away from me. I have become used to having someone over here as well. Was not your lovely wife also looking for employment? Her choosing you as her mate certainly speaks well of her judgment.”

“Oh…” Gordon fidgeted nervously, “She… um… She already found a job…”

He glanced over at Littlefoot anxiously.

Littlefoot’s expression betrayed nothing, but her spiritual jaw dropped.

“Well, she doesn’t have to work for… another employer… if she chooses,” Uhrrbet replied, not expressing the surprise she was feeling either.

“Um… Thank you… but…” Gordon stammered, once again twisting his tail, “She… um… She has a good job that could make a lot more than I do and… um… I… I just…”

“Bethany is your wife?” Littlefoot asked, no longer feeling the need to be discreet. It was pretty goddamn obvious what Gordon was talking about.

“Yes!” Gordon exclaimed. “We are so grateful for all of the kindness and generosity we have been shown by you and the rest of the people over at the Drop of Oil!”

“And you’re… okay… with it?” Littlefoot asked.

Or push her into it? Uhrrbet added silently as her eyes narrowed just a bit.

“You must understand,” Gordon said, “We were slaves before we were freed by the painted ones. Her having a choice not only in who she receives but whether to receive them at all is an unimaginable… gift… The fact that the fates also allowed us to remain together at all is a blessing greater than any we could ever hope for.”

“And that is wonderful,” Uhrrbet replied, “but the both of you could make enough working for me that she wouldn’t have to do it at all.”

“And we understand that and are truly grateful,” Gordon replied, “But Bethany was raised to be a dancer and… companion. It is something she is very good at and very proud of. She likes what she does… or at least she does now…”

“We can get her counseling,” Littlefoot said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible when she wanted to be frothing at the mouth. “We’ve helped more than a couple of people who… um… needed it… It doesn’t cost anything…”

“I hope the Harlequin are wearing their scalps as party hats!” Uhrrbet snarled, echoing what Littlefoot really wanted to say.

“It is far worse, ma’am,” Gordon replied grimly, “Their flesh is delicious to humans. They are being slaughtered like livestock and shipped to others of their kind. They line them up and make them play ‘rock, paper, scissors’ with each other every morning to see who lives that day. I live in constant fear that I shall see their bright purple flesh here one day…”

“Won’t happen,” Uhrrbet replied. “While technically not illegal…”

“It isn’t?!?” Littlefoot exclaimed.

“The Terrans like to keep their options open,” Uhrrbet smirked. “In fairness, for most cultures, laws involving cannibalism were written well before first contact and are rarely updated. After first contact, laws involving violence and desecration are usually enough… usually… So it was with the Terrans. They also didn’t want to draw yet more attention to their recent… practices… by implying that such a law was necessary. There were also some rather recent questions raised concerning this sort of thing due to their soldier’s rather innovative solution involving rations during their conflict with the Collective. In the end, the Terrans allowed it. They officially discouraged it, of course, but they did allow it.”

“So, they would allow it?” Gordon asked in horror.

“Not for long,” Uhrrbet replied, “…probably. Openly selling the meat of another sapient creature would cause outrage and horror among many of the Terrans and, more importantly, abroad. It would be bad for the brand. Almost certainly, laws would be quickly passed to stop it, and measures, both legal and extralegal, would be taken instantly to halt it before those laws could be implemented. If their meat is truly that much of a delicacy, it will enter the Republic grey market sooner or later, but it will be very expensive and kept very quiet… The Terrans are not the ‘painted ones’. The worst segments of their population aren’t any better, but they are more discreet.”

“As terrible as they were,” Gordon said, “We are very grateful to them. It was the painted ones who freed us and delivered us here. One of their silent dancers took a ship’s captain and pointed at a chart. He was too terrified to refuse or fail to deliver us. I will remember her terrifying smile for the rest of my days…”

“Smart,” Uhrrbet replied, “You do NOT want to piss them off. They will wear your skin for pajamas.”

Gordon flinched. He knew for a fact that they would.

Littlefoot made a sad little sigh. One more part of her childhood thoroughly ruined.

A Harlequin circus touring their world was one of the highlights of her young life… The brightly painted faces… the acrobats… the strange mimes who never spoke, but you knew exactly what they were saying…

The balloon animals… amazing, if short-lived toys that they would hand out for free!

Her parents didn’t have much, but they were able to have her face airbrushed by one of the mimes…

…who refused their money after he made her magical… He airbrushed almost every part of her that wasn’t covered by her little dress.

She refused to bathe for over a week. Finally, her parents had to drag her into the shower.

Of course, she was blissfully unaware of the sharp increase in hallucinogenic drugs and related crime that gripped the region at roughly the same time…

That mime didn’t need the few credits they obviously didn’t have to spare.

“I have to know…” Littlefoot sighed and winced, “Did they make… balloon animals?”

“Are those the strange figurines they make from bladders of air?”

“Yes. Did they do anything messed up with them?”

“They were strange to be sure,” Gordon replied, “They were impossibly colored, and many shimmered and caught the light but strangely wondrous just the same… The speed at which they crafted them was… unbelievable. The children loved them as did many adults, but they didn’t do anything untoward with them.”

“Oh, thank God!”

“It’s a pity they are so monstrous,” Uhrrbet said, “their circuses, the murder-free ones, are amazing. Too bad they didn’t just stick to acrobatics a bit of smuggling.”

She shrugged.

“Then again, perhaps they just got the joke earlier than the rest of us. Oh well. Gordon, the offer remains open. I can almost certainly retain another person, especially since Nema is starting to teach you his craft. If Bethany wants a career change, let me know.”

“I thank you,” Gordon replied, “However it isn’t as bad for her… for us… as it would be for others. She is entertaining beings other than our kind… which makes a difference!… at least to our people… and… well…”

He looked down, bashful and embarrassed.

“It makes her happy. She’s… Um… very happy when she returns to me… And… And…”

“Say no more,” Uhrrbet replied as Littlefoot chuckled, “please…”

“And she is doing stupidly well for a newcomer,” Littlefoot said. “Like you said, she has skills… and just happens to be almost an exact match for a certain popular anime character. We all like it when she plays that guitar-violin thingy, too.”

“She’s really good at that,” Gordon replied. “It was a gift from… from the painted ones… They said she was so good that we could just stay with them, but…”

“Yeah…” Littlefoot replied with a wince, “Anyway, Bethany has one hell of a career in sex work… if she wants it. She isn’t a whore. She’s an escort, maybe even more than that… whatever that would be. I still recommend counseling for all of our new arrivals, especially ones who have been through what you guys have. You can get it, too. It’s free.”

“I thank you and will discuss it with Bethany. I… I should be going… Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it,” Littlefoot replied, “Like Uhrrbet said, it’s just good business.”

“And what are you going to do?” Uhrrbet said sternly.

“Take breaks.”

“And?”

“Drink plenty of water…”

“And?”

“Buy the water… and the food…”

“And?”

“Put it on your card this time…”

“And?”

“Wear all of my PPE and work safely… and take breaks…”

“I will be watching you, Gordon,” Uhrrbet replied, “And now I know I can fire your tail without your family starving, so do not break Republic safety regulations again. Please don’t discover for yourself why they were written. I think your Bethany will prefer you return with all of the body parts you left with.”

“Yes, ma’am…”

“Now, scoot,” she said fondly, “Littlefoot wants to interrogate me.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Gordon scampered out the front door.

“Why is it that I keep attracting slaves?” Uhrrbet sighed. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to tell Nema that he is an employee and has set working hours… and I have to make both of those idiots take their breaks. I still have to ‘command’ Nema to do it, and he just sits there staring at the clock until he can start working again. It’s almost inhumane.”

Uhrrbet sighed.

“I fully intend to make those who made him that way pay dearly,” she said with far less gentleness than she used with Gordon.

“I’d say the same about Bethany,” Littlefoot replied with a fang-laden sneer, “But it sounds like the ‘painted ones’ are doing that better than I ever could.”

Uhrrbet expelled a dainty but extremely malicious little snort.

Littlefoot leaned forward.

“Now, about Neeph…”

“It is exactly what it looks like, Littlefoot,” Uhrrbet replied as she walked over to an expertly restored antique vending machine and pressed an icon on its GUI for Solar-Cola. “I’m helping Neeph get started properly. Creators know that she needs it.”

The machine whirred quietly as it manufactured one without requiring payment and started filling a bioplastic drinking pouch.

“Can I get you something?”

“I’ll have an Orange Caffizap, please… Two zaps.”

Uhrrbet smiled and returned with their beverages.

“I can understand your suspicions, though,” Uhrrbet replied. “We have all learned the hard way that such kindness is all too often far from kind.”

“That,” Littlefoot said as she opened her drink, “and you are shady as fuck.”

“Oh?” Uhrrbet smiled, “I’m just a hard-working small business owner, same as yourself.”

“And as one, I know it’s fucking impossible for you to open your doors one week and buy one of those pre-fall soda bots the next. It took us much longer to take off, and that was with the shady bullshit Sheloran was running out of our back room.”

Littlefoot paused as she sipped her drink from the attached straw.

It was good. It was really hard to beat those old soda bots. Having one to make drinks for your customers (and friends) was quite the flex and a very understated display of… I don’t know… something…

It definitely made an impression. Say what you want about the little rat, but she did have style.

“Beginner’s luck?” Uhrrbet said with a chuckle. “Actually, it’s the exact opposite. Just as Bethany was raised to be what she is… and I am glad it’s the Harlequin that got her masters… I was raised… not only raised but actually bred to run a business. Quite literally from birth, I was trained in business administration and entrepreneurship. It helps. It helps a great deal…”

Uhrrbet smiled a wicked little smile.

“One can be the best dumpling maker, potter, sex worker, or dressmaker in the galaxy and fail because one doesn’t know how to properly run a business. Then again,” she said with a little smirk, “one can be the best bussnessbeing in the galaxy and still fail. Such is the way of things. Despite appearances, I come from a long line of very well-off and established upper-class merchants and businessgarth. Before we were laid low by a human Ponzi scheme, I helped run a very successful business that had operated for generations. While the specifics differ and differ significantly between Garthra and the Republic, the underlying principles of business remain the same.”

Uhrrbet’s eyes gleamed almost hellishly.

“I know how to run a business,” she said as she sipped her drink. “It can make all the difference. This is some of what I am trying to impart to Neeph. She knows how to cook. What she can make from trimmings and scrap defies belief. However, she has absolutely no idea what to do with that talent. Do you realize she was wandering around aimlessly, manually taking orders, and then taking out payday loans to cover the ingredients? Madness! When I learned of this, I simply could not remain silent… It hurt my very soul,” she added with a little humorous huff.

“Yeah… a pure fountain of goodwill, ain’tcha?”

“I understand your suspicions,” Uhrrbet replied. “We have all fallen prey to such ‘goodwill’ at least once, haven’t we? As our lovely hosts say, ‘If it’s too good to be true…’ correct? I can also assume that my role as a loan broker further adds to my rather dubious nature?”

“I was going to use the name ‘loan shark’, but yeah. You were making bank off of those ‘payday loans’ and just decided to not only help Neeph stop giving you money but even help her with her business?”

“You are incorrect. I am not a ‘loan shark’. I am a loan broker.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I offer completely legal financial services to an underserved population, a loan broker who is properly registered and follows all applicable regulations concerning interest rates, privacy, and a host of other restrictions and laws. It’s an exhaustive list, I assure you. A loan shark operates an illegal operation, usually with predatory rates, often used to force its victims into slavery or other unsavory actions under the threat of violence. I am not a loan shark.”

“So, what happens if someone can’t pay, then?”

“First, I work with them,” Uhrrbet replied, “I meet with them and try to work out a payment plan, one that they can reasonably achieve. It may have significant interest rates, but legal ones, and certainly not predatory. There is none of that ‘it will be double next week’ nonsense. That is normally sufficient. Most people do want to pay their debts.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I remind them that one’s ‘credit rating’ is a thing and that one doesn’t need to be a citizen to acquire one. I then gently inform them of what the perfectly legal consequences of a poor rating will be. Privately, you might prefer that I just break your fingers. It’s far less unpleasant. If they still are unwilling to work with me, then there are several options at my disposal.”

“Such as?”

“The easiest is to simply sell the bad debt to a business whose entire operation revolves around collecting said debt.”

“You can sell debt?”

“You can sell anything.”

“Even bad debt?”

“Especially bad debt,” Uhrrbet smiled, “I sell it to them for a fraction of what is owed. If they successfully collect it, they make a significant profit. Have you ever dealt with a collections agency?”

“No.”

“You don’t want to. Trust me,” Uhrrbet snickered. “They are relentless. No matter where you go, how far you run, they will find you. You will be emailed and called constantly at all hours of the day, within extremely permissible limits, of course. The Republic takes a dim view of deadbeats. Most people will eventually pay them off just to make it stop. If they don’t, then that collections agency will put their bad debt into a large parcel and sell it to another agency, and the process starts all over again. Each time the individual fails to pay, their credit rating drops, further reducing their ability to get any additional financing and, in many cases, be able to rent housing or obtain any service that requires a payment agreement. That includes such necessities such as basic utilities, internet, streaming services… even your phone. Imagine a life where you can only get prepaids, Littlefoot.”

“Damn…”

“I won’t break someone’s legs. I will break someone’s life… And that is when I choose to be merciful.”

“What?”

“I can also get personally involved. If the debt is significant enough or I am otherwise motivated, I will be far more… severe.”

“It can get worse?!?”

“Oh yes,” Uhrrbet replied, “I can file lawsuits, liens, seize personal property of any kind, obtain payroll deductions where a portion of any money that someone legitimately makes anywhere in the Republic or the Empire is reduced, and that portion is given to me. That portion can be rather… unpleasant. As I said, the Republic really doesn’t like deadbeats. And Creators help them if they hail from the Empire. If they do, I can appeal to the throne for redress, and they do not want that to happen. Intentionally not paying one’s debts isn’t a crime in the Republic, but it is in the Empire. Someone may have to leave both the Empire and the Republic. That means they would have to flee to the Federation or independent space… And if they go to independent space, my ‘legal’ options may actually increase. Bounty hunters could be employed, which opens the potential for legal extortion, even murder… Of course, for the more ‘extreme’ examples, one would have to owe far more than I offer for it to be remotely profitable. The worst I have ever done is appeal to the throne and press civil and legal complaints in the Republic. That was because the individual intentionally committed fraud. He was a spacer and immediately took a position on a departing vessel after securing a rather significant amount from me. He also left quite the rude message when I expressed concerns after the fact.”

Uhrrbet smiled, revealing her fangs.

“It didn’t go well for him. I did, indeed, get personally involved. In the end, I received far more from him than the original loan, more than even a loan shark would obtain, and I didn’t have to waste days of my life spending money and sending thugs I don’t have all over the galaxy looking for him. I simply spent a few hours filling out paperwork.”

“What happened to him?” Littlefoot asked in horror.

“Permanent entries into his credit record for all lenders in the Republic and the Empire. Once the word ‘fraud’ is present, he will never be able to do anything involving his financial reputation anywhere in what I call civilized space again. The Federation, of course, does not have that honor. He may be able to obtain some sort of credit, but it will be truly predatory, and any lease will have a significant security deposit required upfront, most likely the entire balance. Imagine having to pay your entire lease contract up front… for a decade in the Republic or the rest of your life in the Empire. Of course, where the Republic is concerned, his financial reputation probably doesn’t matter. He is not a Republic citizen and was convicted of fraudulent activity in absentia. That means he will be considered a criminal should he try to reenter the Republic. He will be barred from entry. At best, he won’t be allowed to leave the starport. In addition, I had him followed and knew exactly what ship he was on. The ship’s paymaster was already informed by the throne and the Republic before his next stop, and his entire pay was confiscated… and I can expect his next one will be as well… and the one after that… He will be working just to keep his certification and for a place to sleep and eat for the next year.”

“Holy. Shit.”

“That poor fool did not know the difference between a loan shark and a loan broker. In truth, it was a reasonable expectation that I would just sell the debt to a collections agency that he would be able to dodge until even they tired of him, which he has done several times before, but… well… he pissed me off. In truth, I fully expected him to do what he did and was fully prepared to react.”

“If you knew he was going to screw you, why the hell did you give him the loan?”

“Who screwed who, Littlefoot?” Uhrrbet smiled, “Who screwed who? By Imperial law, I will receive the fraudulently obtained funds tenfold, plus I regain my original investment. The question is, why wouldn’t I issue that loan, especially to a bottom feeder who sought to undermine my business?”

Uhrrbet’s expression turned harsh.

“He was clearly abusing his mobility. How else is he abusing it? More importantly, who else was he abusing, and how? The fool exposed his throat to me, and I was happy to rip it out. By the way, it isn’t over. I am going to destroy him.”

“You haven’t already?”

“Oh, no. I’m just getting started. He’s become one of my hobbies now. With the proceeds of the initial cut that I inflicted upon him, I will distribute his genetic information, which I was able to obtain, to the law enforcement of every single port of call he has ever made. I will also hire private investigators, within the profits that I made from him, to investigate him at various points to see if any more serious accusations arise… or if there are more unpaid debts which I will purchase… at a discount, of course. The bleeding continues, as does the investigation. All of this only takes a few minutes of my time every now and then, and with those few minutes, I shall run him until a ‘little swim’ is his only remaining option.”

Littlefoot looked at Uhrrbet in horror, her suspicions definitely not dispelled.

Charlotte was right. She wasn’t being alarmist. If anything, she didn’t even come close.

Uhrrbet smiled at Littlefoot’s expression.

“Of course, that is a single extreme case involving someone I strongly suspect is a serial abuser that I intentionally gifted with a pool deep enough in which he could drown. Normally, if someone refuses to work with me, I just email the debt to a collections agency and call it a day. It is the cost of doing business, and my rates are calculated to account for the predicted rate of eventual losses and set as low as I reasonably can. I make far less profit than you imagine. I am also very easy to work with. Almost anyone who has any sort of income and truly wishes to pay off their debt can do so without starving or going homeless, and the worst they can expect is a hit to their credit rating otherwise. As I said, I am offering a service to the community with the goal of not only providing short-term loans but also helping people to establish that very same credit, a necessity if one ever wishes to be enfranchised in this society. I even offer ‘credit builder’ loans with the intended purpose of that very goal. In addition, I offer debt counseling and education concerning basic financial literacy, which is how Neeph first caught my eye. If someone is taking out one of my loans every week, they have become locked into a potentially ruinous cycle. I was afraid Neeph was in that position, so I started inquiring into her situation. When I found out what she was doing, I immediately rushed her off to a real bank.”

Uhrrbet sighed happily.

“I just know she is going to be big one day. She will transcend her situation and be able to help so many people with her very inexpensive and nutritious food. She will also further increase Freeport’s reputation and foot traffic and generate much-needed jobs in the process. Even better, the vast majority of the income she generates remains in the community. That is far more important than you might realize.”

Littlefoot looked at Uhrrbet strangely. It was like she was a different creature, not the snarling, evil little monster who was there just one second ago.

Uhrrbet sighed and gave Littlefoot a little, completely fangless smile.

“I know what you are thinking. Allow me to explain. Neeph is one of your people, but she is also one of mine.”

“Say what now?”

“When I arrived here, in the Freeport, I had nothing… I… I couldn’t even feed my child. Littlefoot, my baby was hungry, and I… I couldn’t do a damned thing about it! But Freeport took me in. It welcomed me with open arms. The very first night, my Kurr and I were huddled together, sheltering in the entryway of an apartment building, and an old being paused as he entered. Instead of cursing us, cursing my pelt… he invited us into his home, fed us, and ensured that we at least had blankets. Less than a week later, he invited us into his home. His ‘mate’ of another species helped me find work not long after. When I fell short on my share of the rent, they did not cast us out. They would work with me… the same way I now work with my debtors. With their help, I was able to keep myself from the clutches of the Harkeen, who are quite ‘fond’ of my race… When…When everything fell apart, and I lost my job, you at the Drop of Oil didn’t exploit me. Sheloran literally embraced and fed me. You even bought a pod of honey for my tea…”

“Did I?”

“Such a small thing for you that you don’t even remember,” Uhrrbet smiled, tears glistening on her snout, “but something that I will remember for the rest of my life. When the Harkeen… When they did what they did to me, even though her own building was still in flames, Sheloran and Craxina rushed to my bed and ensured that my child and I were safe and cared for. Many would have blamed me for what happened. They never did, even when I blamed myself. Once again, Freeport rushed to my side at my weakest. Later, when the Harkeen returned, The Drop of Oil ensured that I was protected when I had been nothing but a problem for them.”

“You weren’t!” Littlefoot exclaimed, “You were one of us!”

“Exactly,” Uhrrbet replied. “I am one of you. Neeph is part of my community as well. If I came to you needing protection and knowing absolutely nothing about arms, you would take a whole day off to cart me off to a range and even pay out of your own pocket to make sure I had what I needed. Why is it so strange that I would do the same? I have expended far less time and effort on Neeph than you have on Bethany and, by extension, Gordon, who is one of mine twice over. Besides, Neeph insists on paying me in dumplings,” Uhrrbet smiled, “I help one of my own, further enhance the economic strength of this community, and get free dumplings! If that isn’t good business, I don’t know what is.”

The door opened, and a young xeno came in.

“Hello, Vg’ath,” Uhrrbet smiled.

“I brought money this time,” he said.

“And you will keep it in your pocket,” Uhrrbet replied. “Go on.”

The little xeno went over to the soda bot and, eyes gleaming, made a selection.

“How’s your mom?” Uhrrbet asked.

“She’s good! She says she got the job and will be able to pay you back!”

“Wonderful! Tell her to drop by for a soda or a coffee before she does and to bring a payment report. We will work out something tolerable.”

“She wanted you to have this!” Vg’ath said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small parcel of biofilm. “I didn’t eat a single one of them!”

“Well, such honesty should be rewarded,” Uhrrbet said as she opened the parcel and handed the xeno a strangely colored cookie, who chittered happily as he grasped it.

“You’re a weird one,” Littlefoot said as she accepted a cookie as well.

“You have no idea,” Uhrrbet replied. “But I always pay my debts. People get what I owe them, both good and ill. Freeport… (sigh)… I owe Freeport more than I can ever repay… ever.”

She smiled.

“That goes for the Drop as well. I would be… honored… if you allowed me to give your operation a look. I might not know your business, but I do know business.”

“I’m still keeping an eye on you… and Neeph.”

“Please do,” Uhrrbet smiled. “Lord knows Neeph needs it.”

“And I know you are up to more than you say you are.”

“Actually,” Uhrrbet smiled, “I was hoping to have the opportunity to speak with you privately. I understand that you had a most interesting dinner where, among other things, you discovered that lactose is not good for you… There is an enzyme that you can purchase that will allow you to have real ice cream again, in case you didn’t know.”

“There is?!?” Littlefoot squealed with delight.

“You aren’t the only xeno with dietary issues. There is a whole indus…”

The door opened, and Neeph limped in, clearly distraught, a bit battered, and with her dumpling box wrecked.

“Neeph!” Littlefoot exclaimed as Uhrrbet hissed quietly. “What happened?”

***

“…And then…” Neeph sobbed, “They said they were taking over and that it was their street and that I needed to pay them to use it… And they tried to take my dumplings, which I already promised to people… When I tried to stop them they…”

“Were they the Silar?” Uhrrbet asked, “Tall skinny lizard-looking dastards?”

Neeph nodded.

“The Silar?”

“A nice race with a less than nice reputation,” Uhrrbet replied. “From what I understand, they are a lovely people, but their ‘galactic ambassadors’ are of their less savory population. A group of them moved into the Freeport not that long ago and started causing some issues.”

“We haven’t run into them.”

“Nor would you, at least not now,” Uhrrbet said as she gave Neeph her favorite soda. “The Drop of Oil is a fortress. They won’t make a move on your street until they have full control of the neighborhood, something they seem set upon doing.”

Uhrrbet sighed unhappily.

“I had hoped that they wouldn’t amount to much. I thought that someone would set them straight, either one of any number of locals or even, dare to hope, the police. Both the city and the local precinct are not keen to have people, even raiders, disemboweled and hung from municipal property again. It looks bad.”

“Well, That’s exactly what’s about to happen!” Littlefoot growled, “They messed with my people! They are going down!”

“It’s far worse for them than that,” Uhrrbet said politely, “They just committed a transgression against my people. Until now, they were just troublesome. Now, they have graduated to becoming a threat and hurt one of my personal associates.”

“We’ll gut them!”

“Please, don’t get into trouble over me!” Neeph said unhappily. “I’ll… I’ll just go back to the Drop and…”

“Oh, HELL no!” Littlefoot snarled. “They don’t get to shove us around. I’ll get a crew and…”

“If I may,” Uhrrbet said, her eyes gleaming as the gates of hell discreetly opened behind them. “I would advise a little patience. This problem may resolve itself yet. Why don’t we give it a few days and see what happens?”

“…Yeah…” Littlefoot replied, her fur standing on end as she looked at Uhrrbet. “… Let’s give a day or two…”

“Might be wisest,” Uhrrbet replied. “Neeph, don’t you worry your numerous feet over this. You can use the kitchen over at my apartment for just an extra plate of dumplings or two as payment and then tell your customers that they need to either wait a day or two or pick them up at the Drop, where you will be more than safe.”

Uhrrbet looked at Littlefoot.

“She will probably need a friend or two to walk with her for a little bit.”

“Not a problem.”

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Uhrrbet smiled, “I suspect everything will turn out just fine.”

After Neeph, escorted by a very angry and well-armed Littlefoot, departed, Uhrrbet finished her beverage and chuffed with annoyance.

She had hoped to avoid this.

She locked the front door to her establishment and triggered a holographic projector which displayed that she would return within half an hour before walking into her back office.

A few minutes later, an old chuckie was smiling at her over her holo screen.

“Good afternoon,” Uhrrbet said pleasantly, “I was wondering if you could recommend someone…”