Tales From the Terran Republic

Vikkart paced back and forth in his rubbish-laden apartment.

He had been pacing a lot here lately.

The phone rang!

It was from Terra!

"Maaatisha?!" he cried as he answered.

"Oh, my love!" gushed an evil-looking human female.

"Where's Maaatisha?" Vikkart demanded.

"You will be pleased to know that we've received your initial payment," the woman said pleasantly. "Your dear rodent is now safe, sound, and off the market."

"Let me talk to her!" Vikkart shouted.

"Why can't you just put her on the line now?"

"Do I look like her fucking secretary?" the woman sneered, "and do I look like the sort of person who would set foot where she is. I have no desire to get busted… or catch a disease for that matter."

Vikkart let out a low growling hiss.

"Do you want to growl at me, or do you want to discuss her maintenance?" the human smiled.

"Maintenance?"

"Yes, maintenance," the human replied. "You know, food, lodging, medical care… support of her habit… that sort of thing."

"Her habit?"

"Tragically, a lot of our girls, particularly the more difficult ones, wind up addicted to the nastiest things," the woman smiled evilly. "Withdrawal can be… messy..."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!?"

"Regardless of how she became introduced to it," the woman smiled, "she is now hopelessly addicted to a designer drug specifically made for her species and only available from one producer."

Vikkart felt his heart freeze.

"H-how much is it?"

"One thousand a week for the drugs alone," the woman smiled, "Once you figure in food, lodging, and all the rest… I think twenty-five hundred a week would be a good number."

"I don't have that sort of money!" Vikkart exclaimed desperately.

"Oh, don't worry about that," the woman replied as her eyes flashed with pure evil, "We just pulled your love from the roster. We didn't relocate her. She can take as many jobs as she wants to make up the difference."

Vikkart screamed at the woman with pure rage.

The woman chuckled.

"Oh, come now," she smiled, "I'm sure a rich family like yours can spare a measly twenty-five hundred a week, especially since you said you could pay the remaining balance shortly."

"L-look…" Vikkart said desperately, "My family might be rich, but I'm…"

"I've already wasted far too much time on this," the woman said dismissively, "you are just one rat crying about another one. You know where to send the cash. Send it, or don't. I honestly don't give a fuck."

“I’ll… I’ll get it… somehow..." Vikkart gasped.

"That's what I like to hear," the woman smiled, "Oh, and just as a reminder, there is a one hundred percent service fee on that money, so twenty-five hundred going to her is five thousand going into the account."

"Why?!?"

"And you call yourself a businessman?" the woman snarked, "It's because we have to transfer that money from the darkweb, launder it, and then transfer it into legitimate accounts. Before we do that, we have to accumulate enough from you and other piddly little streams to make it worth our while. In the meantime, we are, completely out of the goodness of our hearts, making funds immediately available to your little gerbil. If anything, we should be charging more."

The woman smirked.

"Send her the money or don't," she smiled, "I'm sure a resourceful young woman like Maaatisha will find a way to survive… or not… Not my problem."

The line went dead.

Vikkart shrieked in anger and dismay.

Halfway across the galaxy, Uhrrbet switched off her evil woman avatar and giggled maliciously.

The look in his eyes… delicious!

She sighed happily.

This is what life was all about.

Humming a happy little tune, she returned to work on a nice little outfit for a nice little xeno.

***

On the Garthra's homeworld, a well-dressed grey entered a penthouse office.

"Caabark, my man," the grey sitting behind a desk said as he arose, "Drink?" he asked as he walked to a cabinet holding crystal liquor decanters.

"Considering what happens immediately after you offer me a drink," Caabark chucked as he walked over to join him, "make it a double."

"Your perception is one of your finest traits, good man," the richly dressed grey said as he poured two glasses, handing the one with considerably more amber liquid to Caabark.

Caabark swirled the liquor in the glass savoring the aroma.

"The good shit?" he asked dubiously. "What are you doing to me this time?"

"You are familiar with my… son?" Caabark's host inquired.

"Vikkart?" Caabark asked as he narrowed his eyes. "Do I need a triple?"

"Perhaps," the other grey snickered, "He has been incessantly pestering both myself and my wife for a job with the company for days now. He's simply not letting it go."

Caabark took a nice long sip of the fine liquor.

"And, of course, you told that wastrel to just save his allowance?" Caabark inquired, hopefully.

"Alas not, my good man," the other grey chuckled, "As you are no doubt aware, Vikkart was bequeathed shares of stock..."

"Which are being held in trust," Caabark said, not liking where this was headed.

"A trust that, now he is nominally an 'adult', he can successfully challenge. He is threatening to sell his stake in the company."

"Why not let him?" Caabark asked. "It seems a most… convenient solution… Buy him out and send him packing."

"And then have a member of my family destitute?" Vikkart's father asked, "I would if I had faith that he would do the honorable thing, but we both know if he didn't go for a swim after what the hayseed princess did to him, 'daddy's little bitch’ would likely become one of those starving grey ghouls that embarrass us all by begging on the street."

Vikkart's father sipped his drink.

"I tried to raise him with a firm hand," he said, shaking his head, "but I guess I wasn't firm enough."

"You broke his arm when he was seven, sir," Caabark replied, "and cracked his ribs for his twelfth birthday. You couldn't have been much more firm without killing him. I'm sorry, sir, but some whelps are beyond salvaging. Your parental duties were more than discharged."

"I blame his mother," Vikkart's father shrugged. "But the damage is done, and I have a worthless son, one that I now am encumbering you with."

"I supposed that was the case, sir," Caabark replied as he took another sip of the fine liquor. "What should I do with him? Do you want me to put him in some office somewhere and lock the door?"

"Creators, no!" Vikkart's father exclaimed. "I don't want that little shit hanging around here. He knows neither tact nor discretion. We would be up to our neck in harassment claims within a month! Put him to work, real work. That should drive him off soon enough."

"Work, sir?"

"Put him down with the stripes on the loading docks," Vikkart's father sneered, "… No."

Vikkart's father's face lit up.

"Stripes are far too kind. Put him in with the blondes. They will eat him alive."

Caabark's whiskers twitched.

"Are you certain?" he asked, "Wouldn't breaking his ribs again be kinder?"

"He wasn't threatening to sell his stake in the company back then."

"Yes, sir," Caabark replied with a cruel little smile.

Caabark sipped his drink in silence for a few moments.

"I suppose we could call it 'learning the business'?"

"Call it whatever you want."

***

A few days later and many stories down in the same building, a cute blonde-furred Garthra young woman scurried up to another female who was loitering near a water kettle.

"Hliie!" she squeaked, "Is it true that you have a grey in your department?"

Hliie nodded.

"Yep," she chittered, "One of the celestial spirits was cast down from their crystal spire and landed among us."

"How awful is he?"

"Vikkart?" Hliie asked, "Oh, he's okay. He really doesn't say much. He just keeps to himself and does his job… or tries to bless his pads."

"Oh, a stuck-up type, huh?"

"No… not really..." Hliie said thoughtfully. "He's nice enough. He just seems… I dunno… kind of… sad?"

"If I was thrown downstairs, I guess I would be too," the other Garthra said. "I wonder how long it will be before he quits."

"I dunno," Hliie replied, "He seems pretty determined to make this work."

"Guys!" an excitable young man said as he damn near hopped into the room, "Guys, guys, guys, guys!!!"

"Hello, Gthaalan," they both said with an indulgent smile.

"You will NEVER guess what!!!"

"We got a grey on the floor?" Hliie asked.

"No!" Gthaalan exclaimed, running in place, "You will never guess WHICH grey we have on the floor!!!"

***

Vikaart sighed and pulled out his notes.

How could this be so hard?

Suddenly, he felt like he was being watched.

He was.

At the entrance to his cubicle, there were half a dozen of his coworkers just staring at him.

He closed his eyes and stopped himself from snapping at them.

"Can… can I help you with something?" he asked. "Did I mess up another report?"

“Are you Vikkart?” Hliie asked.

He sighed.

"Yes, that is my name," he replied, knowing exactly where this was heading.

"Like, the Vikkart?"

"Probably."

"Like Vikkart, the son of the owner of the company, Vikkart?"

“Yes,” Vikkart sighed. "Look, I just want to..."

“The Vikkart from the video Vikkart?”

"Yes."

"I knew it!" another female squeaked.

"Please," Vikkart said, "I just want to do my job and..."

He was cut short by an avalanche of questions but never given time to address any of them.

***

"Rough day?" an older male blonde asked Vikkart as he passed by his cubicle at the end of the day.

"I've had worse… sir."

"Staying late again, Vikkart?"

"I need to finish this report," Vikkart replied.

"Looks like you need to figure out how to finish that report," the older blonde smiled as he leaned towards Vikkart and reached out his hand.

Vikkart flinched.

The older blonde grabbed Vikkart's mouse and scrolled around a little.

"Well, this is completely fucked up," he said to Vikkart's dismay.

"Go home and get some rest," the older blonde smiled, "If you come in early tomorrow, drop by my office, and I'll give you some pointers."

"Sir?"

"I'm not a complete asshole," the blonde replied, "if you are trying, I'll meet you halfway. Go home, eat something, get some rest, and we'll hit this tomorrow. I'm usually here an hour early most days. Drop by, and we'll take a look at this mess."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me, boy," the blonde said, patting Vikkart on the back, making him flinch again. "I'm doing my job, nothing more."

"Yes, sir." Vikkart said, "see you tomorrow."

***

That night, Vikkart's phone rang.

It was from Terra!

Heart racing, he answered it.

It was her!!!

"Maaatisha!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Vikkart!" she exclaimed, "It is so wonderful to see you!"

"Did you get the money I sent?" Vikkart asked.

"Yes, I did," she replied, "Thank you so very much. I… I don't know what to say. Thank you seems so… little… for what you are doing for me."

"I'm happy to do it," he replied as his heart sang.

Maaatisha started to take off her t-shirt.

"W-what are you doing?" Vikkart asked.

"Repaying you," Maaatisha replied, "I can't give you what you are paying for in person, so I thought I could..."

"I'm not paying for anything!" Vikkart exclaimed. "Put your dress back down."

"You don't want me?"

"I do!" Vikkart exclaimed, "I want you so much… but… but not like this, not because I 'bought' you… I… um… Can we just talk a little?"

"Okay," Maaatisha replied. "so… um… how was your day?"

"Well," Vikkart said as he relaxed, "I actually made my father give me a job so I can pay for your upkeep and maybe start saving up to pay off the rest of what I owe those… assholes… that have you. He put me down with the blondes, probably expecting me to quit but I would NEVER let you down like that…"

Halfway across the galaxy, Uhrrbet smiled and nodded as that little shit droned on and on about his fucking day.

Why couldn't he have been satisfied with the little show she had prepared? Now she actually had to deal with the asshole.

Showering Vikkart with approval and affection, she watched the timer slooooowly count down.

Five grand a week (for now) was five grand, but this was getting annoying already.

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