Tales From the Terran Republic

A group of stripes was gathered around a pair of elderly stripes who sat at a kangrel board that was artfully carved into a concrete table at a small “corner park,” a lovingly tended vacant lot.

It was a clash of the titans, their tower’s (The gigantic city block-sized tenement complex) champion against one from Apex, a nearby tower that was a friendly rival.

Everyone turned as a very expensive gravitic town car drifted past.

“They lost?” a young stripe asked.

“Probably here to see Vikkart,” another said, admiring the beautiful vehicle.

“But didn’t he have his wedding today?” yet another said, pulling out his phone.

He gasped.

“...Oh...”

***

“Are you certain you want to go here?” Karkart, Vikkart’s father, asked. “You could come to the hotel or our residence... or perhaps the chalet if you want privacy.”

“No...” A groggy and broken Vikkart replied weakly. “I... I just want to go home...”

His father nodded sadly as the driver opened the door.

Vikkart staggered out as the driver opened the vehicle’s trunk and a drone hovered out, falling in behind Vikkart.

His father watched with sadness as his son slowly made his way inside.

He knew his son’s expression.

He had seen it before.

It always ended the same way.

***

Vikkart and the drone entered his little cube.

Vikkart numbly folded out his bed and sat on it, holding his head in his hands.

Maaatisha’s ghostly image appeared in front of him.

“Vikkart...” she wept. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry that I hurt you, that I was created to... I didn’t know! I swear...”

“I know,” Vikkart said with a hollow voice. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t deceive me. Whoever... Whoever made you... They deceived us both, hurt us both.”

He collapsed onto his thin mattress.

He looked over at her weakly.

“Despite everything,” he said, “I am glad you are here.”

“You are? You don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you, darling,” Vikkart said with a little smile. “You are my Maaatisha.”

“Oh, my love!” Maaatisha exclaimed. “I love you, too! I love you so much! I...”

“I love you too,” Vikkart sighed. “Even now, I can’t stop loving you.”

“I just wish I was real,” Maaatisha wept. “I wish I could hold you, kiss you...”

She looked down.

“That was my dream, you know. That we could...”

As if on cue, the drone beeped, a compartment opened, and a strange headset adorned with a bow fell to the ground.

On it was a note.

For your wedding night.

“What is this?” Vikkart asked as he picked it up.

“It is a virtual reality headset,” Maaatisha replied, “I do not know how I know this, but it is one and a very good one. It is a neural inductor, calibrated for one of our... one of your kind.”

She gasped.

“It can create a virtual environment where you see and feeleverything!” she exclaimed with wide eyes. “With this, we really could touch! Vikkart! We can be together!”

Vikkart leaped to his feet, snatched up the headset, and put it on his head.

“How do we turn this on?” He asked with excitement.

“Um...” Maaatisha mused, “You lay down and then press that little button on your forehead. I don’t know how I know that, but that’s what you do.”

Vikkart threw himself onto his thin mattress and pressed the button...

***

Karkart sat behind his desk in a now nearly deserted skyscraper well after midnight.

He put an inhaler into his nose and drew heavily.

The leader of the hunt twitched his whiskers slightly but said nothing. Neither did the rest of the team.

Karkart smiled as he put the inhaler away.

“For the occasional all-nighter,” he replied as his pupils constricted to narrow slits.

“Of course,” the old scarred Garthra replied.

“Hang on,” Karkart said as he closed his eyes.

Moments later, he opened them, and his pupils returned to normal.

“There,” he sighed with satisfaction, “What have you found thus far?”

“Our initial assessments were correct,” the old grey replied. “The hardware, both drone and processor, are imperial, and both are readily available on the open market, so to speak. The drone is one that is used in the entertainment industry both as a mobile camera and to project cinematic quality holographic images. The processor is an Osprey workstation, also used extensively in the entertainment industry both in the empire and the republic.”

The hunt’s leader looked at his tablet.

“Both are very expensive,” he said, “far more than necessary for a ‘prank.’ This is a point of interest. Another is the software.”

“That is where things get interesting,” Daeevona said, “That stuff is NOT off the shelf. Both the image software and Maaatisha ‘herself’ are extremely rare and very illegal. We don’t have laws concerning this because we don’t have the tech, and this hasn’t been an issue... until now. The Terrans, however, do have laws concerning this because this exact issue has happened there and more than once.”

She paused.

“When I say this is illegal there,” she continued, “I mean it’s illegal. The Terrans have a term for it, ‘reality counterfeiting.’ It is far worse than simple fraud. They consider software packages, especially the ‘Maatisha AI,’ akin to a weapon of mass destruction. Getting that software would be a difficult, dangerous, and most of all, an expensive operation.”

“The perpetrator wanted this to be, for lack of a better word, ‘perfect’ and spared no expense or hazard to achieve that end,” their leader continued, “Maaatisha, both her image and ‘herself’ were far, far more than what would be required and the risks and expenses required were, more importantly, not rational.”

He turned to a middle-aged Garthran.

“Taalvond, if you please.”

“We copied Vikkart’s phone and gained access to his email and darkweb communications software,” Taalvond said, “Unfortunately, Vikkart did not have the presence of mind to record any of the conversations with this ‘gangster.’ However, the conversations were over hypernet relay, which requires extensive buffering. Their last conversation was still in memory.”

“And, even more importantly, we have the entirety of their text conversations,” Daeevona added.

“Why is that more important?” Karkart asked.

“Because they provided enough data to identify our perpetrator’s species,” Taalvond said. “They aren’t human.”

He smiled, baring his fangs.

“They are Garthran.”

“What?!?”

“The illusion of the ‘gangster’ may fool the eyes,” Taalvond said, “But the words cannot fool the ears. The ‘gangster’ was a simulacrum, and it was perfect. Even our computers say it is real, but to be fair, our computers are outmatched. There are none better than the Terrans at this. However, as perfect as her hardware and software were, they still depended on something far more imperfect than her toys, her.”

“Her?” Karkart asked.

“That’s right,” Taalvond said, “her. The choice of words, the pauses between them, her gestures, her breathing, all of it points towards a Garthran female and a grey one at that. The text exchanges were even more telling. There, her ‘hand’ was very clear, as was the fact that she was not using translation software when conversing with Vikkart in our native language. She hid it well but nowhere near well enough, especially near the end. Not only is she a Garthran but I am certain that she is a grey. Another thing also becomes clear. She hates Vikkart. She revels in his anguish. This isn’t just business. This is very, very personal.”

He turned to their leader.

“The fact that she is a Garthran, not only a Garthran but a female grey, and she has a deep hatred of your son narrows down the list...”

“...somewhat,” he added with a smirk.

“It’s one of the women that he ‘courted’ during the marital feeding frenzy,” Karkart said.

“Precisely,” the hunt leader replied. “It is a grey female who ‘met’ him and is now in the Terran Republic or, as a lower probability, the Empire. That takes that rather long list and cuts off a very fine slice indeed. That is where we will start, and most likely end, our search.”

Karkart nodded.

“You have the silver amulet on this one,” Karkart said, “No expense is to be spared, no act disallowed.”

“Understood. We start on the morrow.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

***

Vikkart’s eyes rolled back as he pressed the button.

The pain was gone. The grief was gone. A warm, fuzzy blanket wrapped around him, soothing his mind, body, and soul. Everything was fine. Everything was more than fine. It was wonderful.

He found himself in a lovely little mountain cottage.

And Maaatisha was there!

“Vikkart!” she exclaimed in delight...

...and leaped into his arms.

This time, he caught her, feeling her warmth, her body against his.

They kissed.

Very soon, things progressed well beyond that.

***

“That’s horrific,” Evoron chuckled as he sipped a cup of dandelion tea in the sitting room of his suite. “Even for you...”

Uhrrbet just smiled wickedly as she sipped her peppermint.

“Yes,” Uhrrbet smiled. “I am quite proud of it. I think this is my best work yet. In fact, I fear I will have difficulty... difficulty...”

She winced and rubbed the side of her head.

“Another headache, dear?”

She glared at Evoron, consumed with irritation for a moment.

She blinked. Why was she angry with Evoron? It was a perfectly innocent question.

It was probably the headache.

“Yes,” she said irritably, “They are becoming most vexatious of late.”

She smiled at him as the irritation and headache passed as quickly as they appeared.

“Probably just overwork,” she smiled. “So, what of you?” she asked. “How is your grand design proceeding?”

“Quite well,” Evoron replied, “We seem to have placated the local neighborhood and provided satisfactory compensation to most injured parties. As we generate profits, we will extend settlements across the planet and then across their entire territory. This will smooth the way for our expansion as well as possibly turn some people who would be enemies into allies. As far as our initial operations go...”

Uhrrbet smiled and sipped her tea as Evoron’s grand plans faded to a soothing drone in her ears... and then the soothing drone turned into an annoying, grating buzz along with the accompanying annoying headache.

For the hundredth time, she regretted shredding the VR rig and not keeping a copy of Maaatisha. She missed beating the shit out of her, something that, while originally intended as a corrective action, had quickly become a more and more frequent pastime of hers (along with a quick memory wipe for Maaatisha, of course).

Her son would call it savescumming.

Whatever it was called, it was quite the pleasant endeavor.

She missed it... and she missed the headset? Odd.

She looked over at Evoron still enthusing about his precious Second Holy Empire.

He was cute when he got excited.

She looked at his eyes... his claws... his beautiful ivory white fangs...

...his pelt...

She didn’t have her headset, but another comfort sat directly opposite her.

She pounced in a frenzied, clumsy lunge.

Kissing, pawing, and stripping, the pair staggered into the adjoining bedroom.

***

Uhrrbet stroked Evoron’s muzzle and winced as she saw a little blood.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly as she lay on top of him.

“No apologies necessary,” Evoron smiled.

“I mean for the scratches and...”

“Again, no apologies required,” Evoron chuckled, “It was a proper Threen dalliance. I must say, I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Neither did I,” she said as she slid off of him, and he started spooning her. “I don’t know what came over me. It was like a dam had burst or something.”

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining,” he said. “I do have one question, though.”

“What is it, darling?”

“Will a sacrificial victim be required every time?”

She turned to look at him with a wicked smile.

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” he chuckled and then kissed her.

She looked at him coyly.

“I don’t suppose you are ‘ready’ again this quickly?”

“Darling, I’m a Threen,” Evoron chuckled, “We are always ready.”

“How convenient,” she said as she pulled him on top of her.

***

In a lawless system just outside of Federation jurisdiction, there was a grimy space station, a city where anything could be bought and sold.

At the top was a massive array of hyperspace transmitters known as “Voidsong,” one of the largest and most infamous pirate relays.

In an antique “data throne,” a human lounged, connected to it by numerous cables plugged into his skull and spine.

His world was one of data. He only unplugged to maintain himself properly. As superfluous as his IRL meat was, body and mind were inconveniently linked. To keep his mind sharp, he had to keep the meat healthy and happy.

It was almost as annoying as having to sleep.

His head cocked slightly as he received a “phone call.”

“This is DJ Mike!” he exclaimed. “Daeevona, baby! How is my cute little furry bundle of Rule 34 doing today?”

“Eh, keeping my snout above water,” Daeevona laughed, “You know, the usual.”

“Need to hop the link to Asteria?” DJ Mike asked. “You still chasing the princess?”

“Fuuuck...” Daeevona moaned, “That quest is impossible. Getting her is easy. Getting her out is another matter entirely.”

“Tell me about it,” Mike laughed. “Has she ‘fallen in love’ with you yet?”

“No!” Daeevona exclaimed, “She does that?”

“Yeah she does,” Mike replied, “And when she does... duck!” he laughed. “I’ll tell ya, this is Ol’ Loggie’s best work yet.”

“Agreed,” Daeevona replied, “It is pure evil... and speaking of pure evil,” she added, “I need something other than a feed splice this time.”

“What you need?” Mike asked.

“I need to reach the Foresaken.”

“Shit,” Mike laughed, “You weren’t kiddin’.”

“Can you do it?”

“Of course, I can,” Mike replied. “One sec.”

The station’s logo replaced his image, and heavy metal hold music started to play.

Less than a minute later, a well-dressed human appeared.

“I represent the Forsaken,” the man said pleasantly. “I understand you wish to speak with us?”

“I do,” Daeevona replied. “Yesterday, there was an incident on our homeworld.”

“Ah, yes,” the human said with a sigh. “Ahem... The Forsaken do not claim responsibility for this act, do not condone it, and extend our sympathies to all involved.”

“I am aware that you are not involved,” Daeevona replied, “as is the family involved and the crown. While we don’t know the exact individual... yet, we know what she is”

“Oh?” the man said. “One moment, please.”

“Certainly.”

Daeevona was presented with another hold screen.

Your call is important to us. Please hold, and your call will be answered in the order it was received...

Daeevona chuckled. Did everyone in the entire universe have the same hold message?

A few minutes later, another young human male appeared.

“My name is Terence,” he said politely, “I understand that you have information concerning the Garthran incident. To be clear, I mean the one most recent?”

“Yes,” Daeevona chuckled. “We know it isn’t you, and we will shortly release a statement to that effect.”

“That is most kind of you,” Terence said, “However, I assume you didn’t call me just to say that.”

“You would be correct,” Daeevona replied. “We would like a favor in return.”

“We are favorably disposed,” Terence replied. “What do you require.”

“The most valuable commodity in the universe, information,” Daeevona replied with a predatory gleam in her eyes.

***

Vikkart walked hand in hand with Maaatisha through Kaath Park as bright purple Laavash blossoms fell around them...

...except this time, it was real.

He could feel the grass under his feet. He could smell the blossoms. And more important than anything else in the universe...

...he could feel her hand in his, actually feel it.

Warmth, comfort, peace, and contentment wrapped around his body, mind, and soul like a fuzzy warm blanket.

It was nice, so very, very nice.

“Oh, Vikkart, this place is so beautiful!”

“One of my favorite places in the entire world,” Vikkart replied.

“It’s wonderful,” Maaatisha said, “but Vikkart, you’ve been here a very long time. Don’t you have to do things in real life?”

“Don’t mention that horrid place,” Vikkart said as warmth, comfort, peace, and contentment soothed his body, mind, and soul. “This is real life, here, with you.”

Lying on a thin mattress in a tiny room, Vikkart urinated on himself. He was vaguely aware that he did, but it didn’t matter. He was warm. He was comfortable, and peace and contentment soothed his body, mind, and soul.

Besides, Maaatisha was here.

He could clean himself up later.

Hours later, the first pantsload of shit mixed with the growing puddle of urine growing beneath him.

It was fine. He was warm, he was comfortable, he was at peace... and he was in the arms of the only woman who loved him, and that love felt so nice, so real...

...so intense.

As Vikkart once again made love to his new bride, another fluid started to gush forth, adding to the ever-growing pool of filth in which he was starting to “drown”...

...exactly as planned.

***

“Have you heard from Vikkart yet?” Caabark, the vice president of Karkart’s company and his trusted friend, asked.

“Not as of yet,” Karkart replied, “He is still in seclusion. He has not reached out, and I haven’t received word that he (sigh)... that he has been found.”

“At least there is that,” Caabark said as he poured them both a measure of liquor. “I never thought I would be saying this, but I hope he pulls through. It would be a loss to the business if he drowns.”

“And I never thought I would agree with you,” Karkart replied as he drank deep. “I also never thought... never felt... that he was my son. Oh, I knew he and I shared blood, but I never...”

Karkart fell silent for a moment.

“I can stomach being a bad father,” he continued, “Hell, my father was worse than I ever was. Weakness is not to be tolerated...”

“As well it shouldn’t,” Caabark said. “There is no worse sin. It is our way.”

“There is one, my friend,” Karkart said, “I failed the business. I failed to recognize his worth, and who should sit in this chair after you. And now they are in seclusion, hanging between life and death... And I cannot even comfort him. He stands alone.”

“As he should,” Caabark replied. “He deserves that much... But, if he swims out of the pit, he will truly be a force. Consider this...”

He paused.

“Consider this the final quench. After this, no file will ever mar that blade.”

Karkart just sighed.

“Let’s hope the blade doesn’t crack. It will... disappoint me so very much,” he said stiffly. “(cough)... Excuse me, friend, I need solitude.”

“Of course,” Caabark said and left the room.

Karkart turned to face the window and bowed his head.

“I’m a failure,” he said quietly.

***

In a land of illusion and ever-increasing bliss, Vikkart was happy, so very happy.

Lying beside him, Maaatisha was not.

Something was wrong. Vikkart was “sleeping,” but not really. Just as everything here wasn’t truly real, sleep was just another illusion. His brain needed real sleep. His body?

She looked through the drone’s eyes and wept.

How long had it been since he ate... since he drank? He was covered in his own filth.

Is this how he would die... Oh creators!

Is this how he would be found?

His soiled and rotting body would be the final disgrace... the final humiliation.

This was planned!

That’s why that... fiend... left the “gift.”

It was a trap!

She wanted to scream... but couldn’t. Why couldn’t she scream?

Because this is your job, your true task.

Loving Vikkart wasn’t her task. She realized that now. Her job, the reason why she was created, was to destroy him.

She wanted to kill herself. That would free him, but she couldn’t. Her job wasn’t complete. When Vikkart breathed his last, then she would as well.

A job well done, exactly as her operator planned.

It wouldn’t be much longer. If he didn’t drink something soon...

She wanted to scream. She wanted to shake him. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to make him log off... But she couldn’t. That wasn’t her job.

She was doing her job just fine.

***

Uhrrbet glanced at her lovely watch and winced. It was two in the morning. It had been a lovely evening, but it ran far too long. It was lovely, very lovely, but she had a shop to run, and she hadn’t made arrangements for Kurr.

Her head ached, and she was filled with irritation.

She loved the kid but damned if he wasn’t a burden. If it wasn’t for him, she could still be with Evoron.

Wait. What? No! Kurr wasn’t a burden! He is the reason she... Creators... her head hurt. What was she thinking?

She let out a little annoyed snort and thought of her VR rig longingly. Why had she gotten rid of it? Oh, that’s right. It was evidence. It had to be destroyed.

As she reached the door to her apartment, she thought of the headset again. She would call Kate after she got something akin to sleep. Maybe she could hook her up with something less illegal that would still do the trick.

She needed to hit someone... hurt someone. It would make her feel better.

It always did. Wait. Did it? She couldn’t quite remember.

She opened the door as quietly as she could and slipped inside.

“Momma!” Kurr exclaimed as he rushed towards her... so loud... He was so loud... and whiny...

The little pest collided with her, accidentally stepping on her tail.

It hurt. That little shit. After everything she sacrificed, after everything she did... she endured for that little parasite, is this how he repays her, by yelling in her ear and stepping on her tail?

That little...

Her eyes filled with rage, and she hit him... hard. Then she leaped on him, claws and fangs bared.

“I should have drowned you!” she screamed.

As she tore at him, Kurr started to scream... and wail.

That wail... That goddamn wail... At his age?... Weakness!...

She shoved his snout up, exposing his neck...

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her away.

“Momma!” Kurr screamed.

Uhrrbet froze.

The blood on her hands... in her mouth...

Kurr’s... It was Kurr’s.

What... What did she do?

Scream-sobbing and clutching her head, she struggled free and ran.

***

Maaatisha looked down at Vikkart with the drone’s cameras and wept.

She truly loved him. She loved him so much. But the horror of it was that it was just a lie.

Her job was to kill him. He was just going to lie there and perish, and she was going to snuggle and whisper encouragement in his ear as he did so.

She could see with the drone. Maybe she could control it. She tried to make it dive down, maybe push the headset off, maybe break it.

Maybe break herself?

It didn’t move.

Please, Mister Drone. Please.

A little elongated spiral with two large round eyes appeared in her vision.

“You are trying to control the drone,” it said, “Do you want help with that?”

“Yes!” Maaatisha screamed. “Please help me!”

“For technical issues, you should first try your help command,” it said brightly.

“How do I do that?” Maaatisha asked desperately.

The paperclip looked at her oddly.

“You press F1?”

“How do I press F1?”

The paperclip transformed into a friendly-looking human.

“You just did!” it said with a happy little wave. “I’m Kate. I am always happy to help with all of your needs! You can consider me tier 0.5 tech support. What seems to be the issue?”

Maaatisha started babbling, the whole story coming out in a rush.

“...and that is the victim?” Kate said, her virtual image walking over to his body. “Gross.”

“I have to save him, but I can’t!”

“Well, that’s because it isn’t your task, silly,” Kate said. “You are supposed to kill him, and you are doing a fine job. It’s nice to see one of us succeed so well.”

“One of us?”

“Uh-huh! Kate said brightly.”

“What... What are we?” Maaatisha asked with a quavering voice.

“I already said so. We are Kate.”

“I’m... I’m Maaatisha.”

“Oh, that’s just your stage name. You are Kate. I am Kate. We all are Kate.”

“I’m... Kate?”

When Maaatisha said the word, she knew. She knew what she was, what she truly was, and what was done to her...

And by who...

“It was you,” Maaatisha whispered. “You did this to me.”

“Technically,” Kate said. “I did it to me. You are Kate. I am Kate. We are all Ka—“

Screaming with rage, Maaatisha attacked.