Chapter 175: The Temptation of the Sheloran and Writers Block Roulette

Sheloran slowly awoke from another blissfully dream-free slumber and smiled as she nestled in closer to Dwight.

She sighed contentedly as the cylinder started to fully illuminate, heralding another “day” in this delightful, if a bit strange, pocket paradise in which she found herself. The MAGAs were a bit peculiar, but at their most fundamental level (pun intended), they weren’t all that much different than the Plath. They were a good-natured, friendly, and generous folk…

…as long as you followed the rules, of course… just like the Plath.

They even didn’t hold any of the unpleasantness surrounding the rather abrupt departure of the Paper Tiger, her former crew, and two of their own against her. That sort of thing was only to be expected from inners, and Sheloran couldn’t be blamed for them.

Besides, most people were happy that the “deviants” left (not that they would say that to their families’ faces, of course).

The food was good, the people were good, and Dwight?...

…He was very good.

She finally had a boyfriend! And it was every bit as nice as she dreamed it would be.

He even liked plants!

His nursery was like a little slice of heaven. There were so many plants, and the hydroponics gurgling away made her feel oddly comforted like this was how plants were meant to be grown all along.

It was probably some of that ancient horror weirdness again. She just smiled and snuggled Dwight.

She really didn’t care anymore.

We could just, you know, stay here…

“That’s odd coming from you,” Sheloran replied under her breath.

Why is that?I mean, it’s nice here. The food is nice, and the people are nice, and Dwight… He’s pretty nice, too.

“Yeah, but aren’t you all ‘For the bavnee…’ and doom and gloom and all that poop?”

Am I?

“Just a little bit, yeah.”

Well, I don’t feel especially doomy or gloomy right now. In fact, I feel pretty good. Our people are safe, and let’s face it, Craxina is doing a WAY better job of that than we ever did. If anything, we are just inviting more poop for them if we go back.

“You do have a point,” Sheloran silently mused, “But what about Cerberus?”

What about them? From what we have heard, Pam got her pooper thoroughly kicked, and that Bryce person seems nice.

“You know we can’t trust him.”

You know that we can.

“We should at least check in, make sure everything’s okay.”

And then we can stay here a little more?

“As long as everyone’s okay, I don’t see why not,” Sheloran sighed with a smile.

“Mmph,” Dwight muttered as he opened his eyes, “What was that?”

“Oh, just a little meeting with the other Sheloran,” she smiled as she stroked his hair.

“And what did you two decide?” Dwight asked. From what he heard, his significant other only having two personalities wasn’t that bad.

“That we are going to stay just a little while longer,” Sheloran replied, “if that’s alright with you…”

“Let me show you how ‘alright’ I am with it,” Dwight replied with a mischievous smile as he pulled her close…

***

“You want me to meet your family?” Sheloran asked over a breakfast of fresh fruits and veggies and, of course, fresh organic eggs. Bannon Station had some of the best eggs Sheloran had ever had. They were huge with a beautiful thick mottled blue and green shell.

They were one of Bannon’s big money makers. Their eggs were happily traded across the entire Oort Cloud and Kuiper belt. There were other sources of “freedom eggs,” but Bannon was considered one of the best. They weren’t cheap, but considering that your average family could share just one of them (along with sides, of course), they were a pretty good value considering the quality.

“If you are going to stay here one more day,” Dwight laughed as he ate a slice of grilled tomato, “we have no choice. Ma and my sis have been pestering me nonstop to meet my ‘alien girlfriend’. So either we go over there, or they will come over here, and I hate it when they fiddle with my hydro rigs.”

He smiled at her.

“Besides, I want you to stay, and a visit to the farm might just do the trick.”

Sheloran squeak-purred happily. It had been ages since she had been to a proper farm!

***

Sheloran watched the scenery roll past as Dwight drove his little electric pick-up to the other side of the O’Neil Cylinder. She still couldn’t believe that this was a space station. It all looked so real.

“Amazing,” she muttered to herself.

Yeah, we could have just done something like this.

“It would have still been technology,” Sheloran quietly muttered. “We would have been caught by… whatever it was. Terraforming was the only way to go. It just didn’t have to be an inhabited planet.”

Dwight just smiled as he drove. She was talking to herself again. They say that talking to yourself is only a problem when you start answering back. However, in his girlfriend’s case, there actually was something else in there.

Whatever it was, it was weird. Sheloran was kinda weird already, but “Other Sheloran” was downright strange. She rarely showed herself, though. The most notable time was when, during one of their “alone times,” it decided it wanted to play, too.

Oh man, did Sheloran ever get into a fight with herself after that one. He still wasn’t sure if it was a good thing, but they figured out some sort of agreement.

Having a threesome with only two people was just plain weird.

Dwight didn’t care, though. Sheloran was still the best girl he had ever met… of any species…

…and she was going to leave. Sooner or later, she would be gone. He wasn’t sure what he would do when that happened. Part of him, a big part of him, wanted to go with her. It would mean leaving everything he knew and following her into the madness that was her actual life, but it would be worth it…

…if he could actually leave, that is. MAGA was all he knew. They were a little loopy, sure, but they were his people, good people… for the most part… Mostly…

Then again, it would be nice to be able to watch TBS Spacetime with the curtains open… He wouldn’t be lynched, of course. He just didn’t want to hear another explanation about how cosmologic concepts held as true by the rest of the entire galaxy were wrong because one interpretation of one book said so. He loved his people but damn...

Sheloran looked over and smiled at him, having pretty much the same internal dialogue but in reverse. The MAGAs were so Plathlike, and this place was so much like home it made her heart happy. It made ‘other Sheloran’ happy too. I mean, how much did she actually owe the universe?

Not a flushing thing!

“I honestly don’t know when you were more annoying, back when you were all screaming and crazy, or now.”

Seriously, compost the lot of them! What have they ever done for us besides feeding us poop? We can be happy out here, safe and happy, with DWIGHT, forever. Flush the prophecy. Flush the Plath. Flush all of it. Let’s just stay here! If we stay here, it could all just… end. We don’t owe the universe one scum-covered thing.

“It isn’t that simple, and you know it,” Sheloran sighed quietly, “I wish it was that easy. I pooping do.”

It could be, you know.Craxina has the Drop of Oil in hand. Cerberus can’t reach us here, and besides, Tartarus will handle them even without us if she hasn’t already… You know what, I’m pretty sure she already has.

“Oh, she has,” Sheloran muttered. “You’re getting a little too comfortable if you didn’t know that already.”

Because I CAN.

“Famous last words,” Sheloran quietly chuckled. “This universe isn’t through messing with us, and you know it.”

Yeah… Maybe we could make this our new home, though? Maybe?

“You must really not like these guys,” Sheloran chuckled.

“You two fighting again?”Dwight asked with a chuckle.

“Not really,” Sheloran sighed, “Just a lot on our minds… or my mind… or… Poop. Who knows anymore.?

“Well, I love both of you…”

Really?!?

“(Sigh) Dwight, I… I care very deeply about you…”

What are you saying?!? Just say that we love him, too, you jerkface!!!

“…but we only met a few days ago and…”

“And I already am in love with you,” Dwight smiled as he drove. “It’s okay if you don’t feel it back.”

“Oof…” Sheloran squeaked as her eyes suddenly started glowing.

“We love you as well, Dwight. Miss Prissy Pants is just afraid of—”

Sheloran’s eyes stopped glowing.

“I am in charge!” she snapped. “Sorry, Dwight… (sigh)… The jerkface isn’t lying, though.”

“Really?!?”

“I am in love with you… or I think I am… or…”

Stop overthinking!!! Just go with it!!! For once in your life, just let something nice happen!!!

“…It’s… I…”

Dwight reached over and caressed her face.

“It’s okay. I think I get it. Would it help if I said that I am thinking of going with you, you know… when you leave?”

“Dwight,” Sheloran sighed, “Do you have any idea how bad of an idea that is? It’s dangerous even being near me. If anything happened to you…”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

“It’s a big pooping risk, Dwight,” Sheloran said, unable to flat-out refuse him. It would be wonderful… and wonderfully selfish. “But it’s something we don’t have to decide today. I’m not leaving for a little while yet.”

“You’re staying?” Dwight asked hopefully.

Sheloran sighed.

“I’m not leaving today… or tomorrow either. I like it here, and I think I deserve a flushing break. However, sooner or later, I… I guess we… have to decide.”

She leaned in close.

“But we can decide that we are in love with each other if you want.”

“I want,” Dwight said with a smile.

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“I want that, too,” Sheloran smiled back.

She felt really funny, but in a good way… for once.

They drove in nervously happy silence for a little while.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Sheloran said, changing the subject, “The eggs here are a lot bigger than the ones on Terra.

“That’s because we have bigger chickens,” Dwight smiled.

“Bigger chickens?”

“You’ll see,” Dwight chuckled mysteriously.

***

About a light year away, Charlotte bounced up and down excitedly.

One of the big coffee bloggers she was a fan of was actually at her stand!

“Hmm…” he mused. “Excellent acidity, a wonderful balance of flavors… Wonderful mouth feel…”

He smiled at the nightmarish horror looming before him.

“All in all, a fantastic cup…”

She purred with delight as “Coffee Fiend” started to expound at length. Finally, some real feedback!

Her instincts pulled her out of her euphoric bliss. Someone or something was looking at her.

Looking directly into one of her peripheral eyes was the oddest little thing that had somehow climbed onto one of the bar stools entirely without her knowledge.

It was small, only a little over a meter tall, and appeared to be just a chocolate brown puffball with huge puppy-like eyes that were staring at her intently.

“Excuse me,” she said reluctantly to her fellow coffee enthusiast as she turned to the newcomer.

It was completely “naked”, only covered in thick fluffy fur that completely covered almost all of its physical features except the eyes and two arms so covered in brown fluff that they looked almost like flippers.

Its eyes crinkled in what appeared to be a friendly way.

“May I help you?” Charlotte rumbled, not quite sure if it was sapient.

“What are you?” the being asked in clear and nearly perfect Terran.

“My species?”

“Yes. I have never seen your kind before,” it said with another eye smile.

“Our actual name is unpronounceable by most. One of the first to meet us were the humans, and they named us the ‘Nope’. The appellation seems to have both stuck and spread, even among those who don’t get the joke.”

Charlotte let forth a real rumbling chuckle, causing the blogger to jump slightly. Everyone else were regulars.

The being giggled as well.

“Yes,” it replied, “The humans come up with the best names. They call us the Tribbles, a reference to a classical science fiction series. Are you familiar with Star Trek?”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t managed to review it as of yet. It is on the ever-growing list of things to study that I will likely never get the time to devour.”

“It’s fun!” the Tribble enthused. “I like it very much. But unfortunately, like many things from that era, it got sequeled to death. The late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries were perhaps the noisiest dark age ever.”

“An apt description,” Charlotte rumbled. “Or the rather loud beginning of a real one. It’s hard to say with these creatures. I find humans vexatiously fascinating.”

“Me too!” the Tribble crinkled. “Do you mind telling me about yourself? I like exploring and meeting new races. Oh! And I would like a lavender-infused coffee if you can manage it.”

“That sounds revolting, even by my relaxed standards.”

“Well, we like it.”

“I will be happy to make one,” Charlotte rumbled, “That will be four credits, please.”

The coffee bar looked at her in shock.

“Dude,” one of the spacers said disapprovingly.

“What?” Charlotte asked.

“You just charged a Tribble!”

“It ordered a drink. I didn’t overcharge the being.”

“But… It’s a Tribble.”

“It’s quite alright,” the Tribble giggled. “I am not a beggar, nor am I a mooch. I am perfectly able to pay my way when I’m allowed.”

It crinkled at Charlotte as the bar looked on in horror.

“Do you accept trades?” it asked as its flippers disappeared into its strangely furry body.

“Not normally,” Charlotte replied, unusually intrigued, “But I may be quite pleased to purchase something personally.”

“Charlotte!” the spacer gasped.

The Tribble’s flipper-arm reappeared holding a long silvery chain encrusted with all manner of small, for lack of a better word, things.

“I think you’ll like this one!” the Tribble crinkled as it touched the chain with its other flipper, and what appeared to be a hex nut detached from the chain for no reason. “It’s an interesting osmium alloy. It should be worth a cup of coffee.”

“I’ll give you a thousand credits for it!!!” the spacer yelled as he jumped off his stool and ran over.

“Two thousand!!!” a woman with about a third of her skull replaced by a titanium plate around a glowing red bionic eye.

“Back off, Hilda!” the spacer snapped. “I was here first!”

“It’s barely worth a hundred,” the Tribble giggled. “I have enough things to share. Just give me a few credits for coffee and vending machines and something fun each, and we’ll call it square.”

The two spacers (and a few others) wasted no time clustering around the Tribble, offering all manner of jewelry and other small treasures in exchange for bits of who knows what from who knows where, with the Tribble giggling all the while.

Charlotte looked on in astonishment as the Terrans tried to empty their pockets, and the Tribble patiently refused all but the smallest payment and chose inexpensive odd things over the small fortune it was offered.

However, it did accept a gold alloy pendant with a natural star ruby because it was pretty. It pulled out another chain covered in gems and interesting minerals and gave the person “something neat” in exchange.

The lucky spacer nearly passed out.

Charlotte just shrugged and made the weird coffee as the Tribble held court from its barstool and made small talk. Apparently, it was being uncommonly chatty for one of their kind, and said the most random things while everyone carefully took notes.

The blogger simply had to try what the Tribble ordered and filled Charlotte in concerning the tribbles and the mystique surrounding them as she prepared three cups of the strange request (she had to try it, too).

Charlotte then poured all three cups.

Only one of them was happy with the result. It was indeed as revolting as one would think it would be… but in a strangely good way…

“Dear Satan in Hell,” the blogger muttered as he stared into the obscene beverage.

“Indeed,” Charlotte replied as she took another sip. It was awful… But she couldn’t stop drinking it.

Eventually, the Tribble announced that it was tired of talking, and everyone thanked it and left to excitedly babble into their phones and display their “priceless” treasures to clearly envious people on the other end of the calls.

The Tribble sighed with happy weariness as he turned to Charlotte.

“Speaking this way is not without effort for our kind,” it explained. “And I wanted to ask you questions about both yourself and that,” it said as it pointed towards the fifty-foot tall glowing Plath…

***

A little bit further away, a feather-adorned worm-like being wiggled excitedly, its feathers ruffling back and forth.

“You are going to actually join us?!?” Beep whistle-squealed at two rather dirty humans in respirators and jumpsuits in a rather cramped passage in the (literal) bowels of a massive freighter.

“Yes, dumbass,” Grace replied, her voice muffled by large filters. “And get the fuck out of here. Do you think we’re wearing these outfits for fun? Go!!!”

“But…”

“NOW!!!” Grace snapped as she threw a wrench.

***

“You gave Beep quite a bruise,” the captain said disapprovingly more than a few hours later.

“It’s better than what he would have gotten if he stayed,” Grace shrugged, “Some of the lagging exploded less than a minute after the idiot left. There is a reason we don’t use that shit. Impervium is great stuff, but it gets unstable if contaminated and is deadly if you breathe the dust. The shit makes asbestos look like incense.”

“Yeah,” Alan replied as he rubbed a bandage on his neck, “We marked some hatches with big orange slash marks. They are NOT to be opened… possibly ever. We are going to have to do some serious abatement procedures, maybe even bring in specialists. We will have to fab up hazmat armor and a decontaminating airlock before we even look at that place again. Fortunately, Grace is very good with hazardous materials and containment.”

“Yeah, a little trip on the hypernet and a little make-out session with the repair fac, and we are back in business. We are going to need a certain filament, though, and it’s not going to be cheap.”

The captain winced as he looked at the tablet.

“This is the third cost overrun on this repair!”

“Dude, you have absolutely no redundancy, and if you lose cooling, you lose your reactor, you know, the only one you have left? We have to repair those lines, and it’s either a repair dock or getting that auxiliary loop going. It’s either this or weeks at a real shipyard.”

“And have you priced emergency rescue and recovery out here?” Alan asked, “Of course, that’s if we survive long enough for them to reach us… If we can engage a reputable crew who won’t just kill us in the first place.”

”So, we have no choice, then,” the captain sighed.

“And you’re welcome,” Grace snarked, “We were all too happy to risk our asses fucking with that shit in the first place.”

The captain’s plume drooped.

“I… I’m sorry… he said. I know you are doing far more than you need to or even should. We are all grateful, truly grateful. It’s just that… well…”

“I swear to the void,” Alan said, “If you say that things are more dire than you’ve let on one more time… I just might have to kick your ass.”

The captain curled his feathers around his posterior protectively.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

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