Chapter 6: Kolvac’’ksa and Smith’s Salvage and Recovery

Sheila's new Federation Class Twelve Cargo Vessel dropped out of hyperspace, and T'sunk'al crowded the viewing port.

"What is this place?" he asked as he surveyed a massive debris field.

"Oh, this? This is the Saralan system," Sheila said matter-of-factly.

"The Saralan system?"

"The site of The Battle of All the Marbles. The combined Juon Empire and Republic fleets went head to head with the Collective Armada. This is where we broke their backs," Sheila said as she surrendered the controls to Samuels, the team's best pilot. "The victory was expensive though, almost pyrrhic. Out there is around twenty-five percent of what was then the Republic's entire fleet, including two Vengeance Class carriers, like the Retribution, along with roughly thirty percent of the Empire's including six Imperial Dreadnoughts… But they took with them almost all of the Collective Armada. Hundreds of thousands died, but the tide of the Great War changed in just two days. We stopped them right here."

"You lost carriers?" T'sunk'al asked. "I thought they were indestructible."

"Nothing is indestructible if you throw enough anti-matter at it. They weren't vaporized, just trashed to the point they weren't salvageable. The bugs actually fucked up and tried to board them, which didn't work out too well for them. They lost most of their warriors in the attempt."

"It sounds truly horrible."

"Oh, it was," Sheila said as she bared her teeth in a grin. "It was Hell made manifest. In the end, all the plans and strategy broke down on both sides, and it turned into a pure slugfest, a dogfight with battleships and hand to hand fighting inside them."

"Were you there?"

"Nah, I was having my own little party on Corvux Seven,"

"Corvux Seven?"

"Didn't follow the war at all, did you? We took the Corvux System based on the intel that the bugs were up to something big on the surface. They even had queens down there. It all went smooth, and we put a lot of forces on the ground after softening them up with bombardment and airstrikes. We wanted those queens," She said with a rueful smile. "What we didn't know is that the big thing they were doing on Corvux was making a massive supply depot and command center for their main armada. About two weeks into our campaign, the whole fucking armada rolled through. We were cut off and stuck on that fucking rock for over two years… two fucking years..." Sheila paused, looking off into space for a while. "Not many of us survived that."

"I'm surprised that any of you did."

"So am I." Sheila laughed. "We all thought we were toast. Some people tried to hide and wait for rescue. Others, however, decided that we were dead and that we would do as much damage and take as many of those fuckers along with us as we could. So we threw together a gang of Terrans, Juon, a few Kalesh, and whatever else managed to survive those first few days and were up for a fight, and we brought the pain." Sheila laughed again. "The really funny thing is that the ones that tried to hide were wiped out, and groups like ours were the only ones that survived. Life is funny sometimes."

Sheila paused to take a sip of coffee.

"Actually, a lot of my crew are from Corvux. We looked each other up after that bullshit treaty with the Feds. We don't exactly go feral like you Z'uush, but certain experiences give us… perspective… that serves us quite well in our line of work."

"Yeah, the Terran doctors have other names for that 'perspective'," Samuels laughed.

"I prefer to call it an 'alternative mentality'," Sheila said with a chuckle. "Anyway, it's nothing that a bottle of whiskey and a blunt can't fix… And the next job, of course. Speaking of, I understand we have been put out of business by our beloved Republic. We need to come up with a new angle."

"Pity," Samuels said. "You Z'uush made us a lot of bank."

"Are you displeased that our plight has come to an end?" T'sunk'al asked as he flicked his eyestalks in their version of a raised eyebrow.

"What? No. We would have done a lot more if we could, but we are just one outfit. We were able to get you arms and provide a means to pay for them, but that's about it," Sheila shrugged. "The fact that we were able to profit from the whole deal was a nice plus. Running our own little private war ain't cheap. Not only did you finance your cause, but you provided us with the means to continue ours as well. Our mission involving you is complete. Now we just need to come up with a new one," Sheila said with a predatory smile. "Don't worry. We will find another nice juicy, soft spot to strike soon enough."

"You do all of this just to continue to fight the Federation? Do you hate them that much?"

"You are goddamn right I do!" Sheila snarled. "Those shitstains sat back and let us and the Empire bleed ourselves white fighting back the fucking bugs even though their asses were next if we failed. They just sat back and watched as we protected all of civilized space," She spat as she stood up and started to pace. "Then what do they do? After we damn near broke ourselves stopping the biggest goddamn threat in our generation, after we lose over seventy percent of our fleet, ninety-four percent of our marines, and sixty-eight percent of our army, what do they fucking do? They stab us in the back! They launch a surprise attack on our shipyards, repair stations, and military garrisons! I lost friends! Good people! People who survived Corvux, survived here, survived the whole goddamn Hell that was the great war only to be murdered while they were sleeping in their bunks or drinking a fucking cup of coffee! They had made it... They survived… They… m-my people were supposed to be safe… GODDAMN THEM TO HELL!"

Sheila slammed her fist into the bulkhead with tears in her eyes.

T'sunk'al backed away instinctively as he witnessed a Terran on the brink. He glanced over to Samuels and saw something even more terrifying, a completely blank, totally emotionless void where a bright, bubbly person once stood. Samuels was gone, and something else was standing there instead.

"We don't care that the Republic decided that they were done with the Federation. We don't fucking care. We aren't done! We will never be done! The Federation will fucking BURN!" Sheila shouted as blood dripped between her fingers and onto the deck.

"Goddamn right, ma'am." Samuels quietly replied. "We will watch them burn… all of them."

T'sunk'al stood frozen to the spot, unable to breathe. Something deep within him clicked as Sheila screamed. Images of friends, family, the love of his life… worked to death in the mines or killed in their desperate struggle… Senseless deaths… Needless deaths… He had never really stopped to think. He never had the chance. But he realized that he was angry. Oh, he had known he was angry but only then did he fully realize he was fucking enraged. She was right. They had begged the Federation for help multiple times. The result? The pleas always fell on deaf ears, and the Z'uush that made the attempt were always imprisoned and "re-educated". When things got so bad they finally had to take matters into their own hands, what did the Federation do? Send fucking warships. She was right. They had to burn. It was the only thing that made sense. They had to burn.

"You are right, human-friend Sheila," He said in a calm, even voice. "What they allowed to happen to us, what they did to us, what they would still be doing to us except for you and the Republic, it was… it is unforgivable. So many of us died and not just in our war but in what came before. They aren't what they claim to be. All of their supposed ideals… are shit. They need to be hurt the way we were hurt. They need to be punished… D-do you… Do you… Do you have an opening in your crew?"

Sheila looked at T'sunk'al and sighed sadly.

"You are a phenomenal pilot and amazing in a fight. I would be happy to have you but are you sure? Right now, you are a noble freedom fighter, a fucking hero. Run with us and you trade that in for something a lot darker," Sheila said as she laid a hand on T'sunk'al's scarred carapace. "There is no going back."

"There is already no going back. I've already 'changed' thanks to the Federation. I'm not the same person I was before all of this. I've lost everything, including myself, thanks to them. I've been wondering for quite some time what would happen to me if we won, and now that we have, I still have no purpose beyond what I have become. I'm a blockade runner, a drug dealer, and a killer. I can't return to polite Z'uush society, and to be perfectly honest, I don't want to. I want in."

"Ok, sounds like you really thought about it. It has to be put to a vote, but I'm pretty sure-"

"He has my vote even if I don't like the competition," Samuels interjected. "That's a compliment, by the way."

"A vote? Aren't you in charge?" T'sunk'al asked.

"Me? I can barely control these animals on a good day," Sheila said as she walked to the medical supplies. "I'm 'in charge' in tactical situations. When we plan and perform an op, or the shit hits the fan, I call the shots. In our day-to-day operations, we decide things by consensus. Everyone has their area of expertise or official job, and any questions beyond that go to a vote. That includes new partners, but we could definitely use another kick-ass pilot and navigator. We will make it official once we reach our destination as our first order of business," She explained as she bandaged her hand.

"Where is our destination?"

"In there," Sheila said with a grin as she pointed towards one of the greatest concentrations of debris. "Our destination is the Vengeance."

"Wasn't it destroyed?"

"Oh, it's a burned-out hull now but, once the Terran recovery teams finished clearing out or destroying all of the classified stuff or anything else they wanted, they abandoned it. It was just too fucking huge to vaporize. It was more trouble than it was worth. Enterprising individuals refurbished the main power plant and sealed off enough of it to make one Hell of a space station completely off the map. It's a great place to buy and sell munitions, equipment, and ships or to just lay low for a while. The hotels and restaurants are a bit pricey, though. We usually just stay on the ship unless we feel indulgent. Even a brigand can use a spa day."

"We just got the latest approach. Our guys are holed up at Kolvac’’ksa and Smith's Salvage and Recovery." Samuels said over her shoulder as she laid in the new course.

"That's another nice thing about the Vengeance. There is so much debris, unexploded munitions, and other assorted hazards around it that, without the latest information, getting to it is a long, slow, and dangerous proposition," Sheila said as she grabbed a mango from one of the pallets of Terran produce filling the Class Twelve. "That's why we like it there. You can jump out once you are clear, but it will take days to get in there without the latest map. We could also go to Saralan 2. The bugs never got their hooks into it, so it is still a nice place, but with all the orbital debris, the approach is pretty hairy on the best day, and the prices suck. The only reason to go down there is that you are desperate for outside and are so much of a fugitive you can't go anywhere else. That being said, we did have a nice camping trip down there once for exactly that reason."

"Got their hooks into it?"

"You don't know a lot about the Collective, do you? The Collective doesn't conquer or enslave. They terraform. Any pre-existing life is just an inconvenience to them. The first thing they do is completely eliminate the existing ecosystem and put their own in place. Most of the worlds they took are complete wastelands now," Sheila shrugged. "I've never seen a bug world, but from what I hear, they suck even when they are finished. They didn't make it to Saralan 2, so it's still intact. Since it has been mostly abandoned, the world has become a true wilderness again. The sight of nature reclaiming the empty Juon cities is magnificent," Sheila said as she looked over at Samuels at the helm. "You know, we should get back down there sometime."

"Only if you do the piloting. I'm not doing that shit again. We almost got wiped out by what was left of a Shrike, or did you forget that part?"

"Hey, that's what we have the new guy for," Sheila said as she gave T'sunk'al's carapace a rough slap.

"If we all die, then there will be nobody left who can find me at fault. I'm game," T'sunk'al said with a casual shrug.

"Hey, you're fitting in already," Sheila said with a laugh. "I'm going to grab a grapefruit. Anyone want anything while I'm back there?"

***

T'sunk'al's eyes, all of them, dilated in surprise as they approached the wreck of the Vengeance.

"I knew that your carriers were big… but damn..." He said in awe.

"Yeah, everyone has that reaction the first time they see one up close. The thing actually has a slight gravitational field. That is why all that stuff is sticking to it." Sheila said as they got into their place in line.

"I am surprised. I wasn't expecting so many ships."

"Oh, this system is pretty busy. Think about it. With twenty-five percent of the Terran fleet, thirty percent of the Imperial fleet, and all of those Collective ships, this is a scrounger's paradise. If you are willing to brave unexploded mines, armed nukes, auto-turrets with self-contained power cells, and whatever abominations the Collective have in their shit, you can still find treasures here. Hell, the scrap metal alone is worth trillions. There are scores of scavengers out there on any given day."

"And the Empire allows this? Isn't this their territory?"

"Yes, it is, and no, they don't. This system is officially off-limits, but once the Empire and the Terran recovery teams were done securing the good stuff and blowing up what they could, the blockades went on their way. They will come through every now and then and throw out some mines, but it's really more trouble than it's worth for them. They are much more interested in patrolling the borders and rebuilding than they are guarding a pile of debris that kills a lot of the people stupid, greedy, or crazy enough to go digging around in there."

Samuels veered out of the line as a massive set of doors opened in the side of the hull. She easily fit the Class Twelve into the cavernous opening. T'sunk'al just stared as they entered.

"How thick is that armor?"

"Around five hundred meters, give or take. They say they actually beefed it up on the newer ones. The Retribution's armor is so thick that Federation scanners can't penetrate it even if the shields are down. It just shows up as solid on their readouts."

"How can it even move?"

"I have no fucking idea," Sheila shrugged. "The carrier's propulsion system and main gun are some of the most closely guarded secrets the Republic has. Nobody I know has even seen the engines, and if you get too close or they catch you trying to scan them, you can expect to suck vacuum for your efforts. Seriously, you have a better chance of getting into Terran Intelligence Headquarters than you do getting into a carrier's engine room. Here, they turned the huge gaping hole the recovery teams left in the engine's place into a really nice greenhouse and some lovely villas. Don't know much about the engines except that they were huge." Sheila said as she cut into another mango. "I haven't seen the engines, but I have seen the power plant. This place can damn near feed a planet. It could be just pure Terran brute force. It has the power for it."

Samuels expertly landed the ship next to the Paper Tiger. Sheila winced. Her ship was partially disassembled, with parts lying everywhere. Samuels looked over at Sheila and grinned.

"Looks like the chief is at it again, boss," She said with a laugh.

"Goddammit… This happens every fucking time I turn my back on him," Sheila grumbled. "I wonder how much of our money he spent this time."

Sheila opened the hatch and stepped out into a huge hangar bay. Some Z'uush children ran past kicking a ball, and a few more were playing with a strange furry creature that ran around squeaking excitedly as some local vendors of a dozen different species wandered about hawking their wares. The Z'uush had set up a little camp fashioned from shipping containers and tarps, and most were standing around a large open fire grilling meats and vegetables on long skewers.

A Z'uush female ran up excitedly.

"I am so glad you are all safe! I feared I would never see you again!" she exclaimed.

She addressed the entire group, but her gaze was fixed firmly on T'sunk'al, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, we got away eventually… No worries…" T'sunk'al mumbled, shifting back and forth.

Sheila grinned at him. She hadn't seen him get nervous in quite some time.

"Oh! Your shell!" The female gasped as she reached out and touched the fresh cracks on his carapace. Apparently, a Z'uush can blush. Who knew.

"No… no big deal. I just… I just grabbed some repair resin when we were on Terra. It's good as new," T'sunk'al mumbled and actually hiccupped once.

The female giggled and quickly pulled her manipulator away.

"You were on Terra?" she asked with a dozen wide eyes.

"Yeah, we had some business there… no big deal."

"Wow!" she enthused and then hiccupped. "I'm… I'm going to go and check on the children..." she giggled and ran off.

Sheila elbowed T'sunk'al.

"Looks like someone could have a little fun there, T," she said wickedly.

"Wha? P-please… She is half my age."

"She legal?"

"What do you mean… Oh!... Y-yes… She c-can c-consent… (hic)."

T'sunk'al was hopping back and forth like he was on his first arms deal.

"Well… run that blockade, dude!" Sheila slapped him on the back while the reassembled crew laughed. "Chief! Where the fuck are you!" An eyestalk popped out from under one of the engines.

"Down here."

"What are you doing under that engine that clearly isn't one of ours, right next to those other two engines that clearly aren't ours?"

"Um… they are now?" The rest of the crew chuckled as they backed away.

"Oh, those are very nice engines," Sheila said dubiously. "Juon seraphims. Very, very nice." The chief quickly pulled his eyestalk back under the engine. "Exactly how much did those cost?"

"We got a great deal on them."

"How much?"

"The improvements to our performance will be amazing."

"How much?"

"Our old ones were getting worn, and I couldn't change the drive signatures again without extensive retooling."

"How much?"

"...fortyfivemillioncredits..."

"FORTY-FIVE MILLION CREDITS?!?!? WHAT THE FUCK?!? GET OUT HERE!!!"

"No. I think I will stay under here for a while," the chief wisely replied.

Sheila stomped over to the engine and threw herself down onto the deck, halfway squirming under the engine after him.

"It wasn't just the engines," The Kalesh engineer said defensively as he retreated further into the machinery. "We got a great deal on the engines, but the power plant wasn't big enough, so we got a new one, and then we had to buy some structural components so we could handle the new thrust. Of course, now our acceleration is much better, so we needed some new inertial dampeners..." The chief paused for breath and then continued. "Kolvac’’ksa had this great new hyperdrive and cloak that we could get on the cheap that we could now power with the new plant, so that was a no-brainer. Of course, the new hyperdrive needed a new navigational computer to handle the extra jump range, so we absolutely had to get one of those. After all that, I figured why not get a new control console and comms so our signature will be completely different."

"That's more than the fucking ship is worth! We could have bought a whole new ship for that!"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be nearly as badass as this one will be once I modify and install all of this new gear!"

"That's nearly all of our operating budget, you jackass, and we are out of fucking business! The Republic just ended the Z'uush insurrection once and for all!"

"… oh…"

"Yeah, asshole, that's right," Sheila fumed. "You better fucking hope I can get a good price for that class twelve, and it's cargo, or it's ramen noodles for all of us!"

She rose to her feet and confronted the rest of the crew.

"And you assholes just fucking let him do this shit?" she demanded angrily.

"We put it to a vote and decided it was a good move," Greg, the quartermaster, replied. "The new engines will let us take off in less than a minute, and the new hyperdrive and navcomp will let us jump in half the time we used to. If we could have done that, we wouldn't have had to bust your ass out of jail. We could have just shoved the Z'uush on board and gotten the fuck out of there. Abandoning you didn't sit well with any of us."

Sheila just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. They had a point, and nobody expected the Republic to swoop in like they did.

"Well, you knuckleheads have done dumber things with our cash, and that launch time will come in handy. We also got a pretty decent payday from Republic Intelligence for that data grab, so we aren't completely broke," Sheila said with a shrug. She looked around. "Where is Roberts? He get here yet?"

"Yeah, he beat you here by two days, and we already sold the Starlancer he boosted, so that's a bit of coin in our pockets too. He's in the main station with some of the Z'uush, getting groceries and some toys, clothes, and other sundries for our new guests. They didn't bring much, and most of that was left behind when we had to scoot. Some of these guys only had what they were wearing."

"Nice of you guys. Well, at least we are all in one place and with all of our bits still attached," Sheila said with a smile, "Even if our war chest is damn near empty, thanks to you asshats."

She then turned to face the single eyestalk cautiously peeking out from underneath the engine.

"How long to get the old gal back together?"

"Should take less than a week. We have the run of Kolvac’’ksa's shop. He has been surprisingly generous with his tools and equipment," the chief laughed.

"Oh, I bet he has," Sheila said with an exaggerated eye roll. She then turned to T'sunk'al and wrapped her arm around him. "Before you assholes give me a stroke, I need a vote on something..."

***

"Well, that's settled then," Sheila said after what was probably the fastest vote in their history. Everybody knew T'sunk'al and what he could do at the helm, and the shoot-out after their last deal went sideways sealed the deal. "We got a new number two pilot and primary navigator."

She turned to T'sunk'al.

"Ok, T, go grab some gear. We still have a mountain of stuff we didn't offload before that cruiser showed up."

A large shambling white furry mound waddled up and extended four beefy arms.

"Sheila! Glad to see they sprung you. I was worried," it croon-bellowed.

You are reading story Tales From the Terran Republic at novel35.com

"You should be more worried that I escaped. Forty-five million credits? Kolvac’’ksa, I should shank you," Sheila said with a smile as she settled into a huge warm furry embrace.

"You object? Your company was quite specific in their order," Kolvac’’ksa said as Sheila practically disappeared into his body.

"Yeah yeah. I've already had a chat with my crew," a muffled voice filtered out through the deep fur.

"I heard. I figured I would give you guys a few minutes before I greeted you this time," Kolvac’’ksa laughed as he allowed Sheila to escape.

"So, buddy… My old and dear friend," Sheila said with a big smile as she gestured at the class twelve. "What do you say we just do a swap and call it even?"

"Oh, you Terrans and your wonderful sense of humor. I can't give you more than five million for that."

"Five million? Have you been sniffing coolant again? Just look at that beauty!"

"I am. Federation Class Twelve Cargo ships are used solely by the Federation. They don't sell them on the civilian market. So while I am truly impressed that you snatched one, it is and will always be clearly stolen. Just swapping a few components and recalibrating the engines won't cut it this time, my friend. My only hope is to scrap it for parts."

"Don't give me that! You can sell it anywhere on the edge. The Federation doesn't touch Imperial space, and the Empire doesn't give enough of a shit to do anything unless someone parks it next to the palace," Sheila said as she scratched his chin. "Hell, I bet you could sell it to scavengers, and it would never leave the system."

"Your scritches won't sway me this time, temptress," Kolvac’’ksa said as he growled in satisfaction and leaned forward for more. "Ok, for you, I will make some inquiries and see if I can find a buyer. Twenty-five percent commission."

"Thanks, sweetie," Sheila said with a big grin. "So, how is Ms. Smith doing?"

"Growing like a weed. She is nearly as tall as her father was," Kolvac’’ksa said, preening with pride. He had raised her as his own ever since her father, his first business partner, died while exploring a Collective warship. "It is clear that she inherited her father's technical ability and business savvy. She is already a valuable business partner and will do the Smith name justice."

"Great, I will have to deal with two of you again if one wasn't enough. Where is the little sprout anyway?"

"Not sure. She should be assessing salvage, but she is probably running around with the juvenile Z'uush again. I shouldn't be so indulgent, but it isn't often she has so many creatures at her point in their development with which to cavort."

"Well, aren't you just a big old softy!"

"Considering how cruelly you take advantage of me, you should already know that," Kolvac’’ksa said with a laugh.

"Oh, please..."

At that moment, a tween with a wild tangle of red hair and wearing a greasy blue jumpsuit ran up.

"Kolvac, we have a problem!" She grabbed him, pulled him away, and started frantically whispering at him.

"Well, let them in," He said in a rather grave tone. He turned to Sheila. "It appears that we have a guest. More precisely, you have a guest. I am out of here." With that, Kolvac’’ksa beat a hasty retreat as the atmospheric retaining field flicked on and the massive bay doors started to open.

The doors opened, and nothing happened. Nothing seemed to enter. Then, they could all hear the faintest humming noise, and a stiff breeze blew past.

Suddenly, a long, lean, jet-black frigate appeared before them, less than fifty meters away.

"Well, fuck." Sheila said in a quiet calm voice. Nobody moved or spoke except for T'sunk'al.

"Shouldn't we arm ourselves?"

"No point," Sheila said quietly. "That is an Imperial Stalker, a Nightguard ship."

"Nightguard?"

"Fuck, I like you, T., but I don't feel like another lecture right now. They will kill us. All you need to know."

"Besides," Greg said, "we have a hangar deck full of civvies, and there is a very firm law here saying that you don't directly oppose the Juon Empire when they show up. So we won't be welcome here ever again if something happens even if we do survive, which we wouldn't."

The Stalker made a perfectly silent landing. A hatch opened without a sound, and two Juon exited the ship and approached. T'sunk'al cocked his eyes curiously. He had never seen one before.

"They are so wriggly," he whispered.

"Yeah, they look funny but don't be fooled. They will fuck you up. Now please be quiet," Samuels whispered back.

"Showtime," Sheila whispered as she stepped forward to meet the Juon.

***

Captain Zzuural stepped onto the deck along with Lieutenant Guzzala. The Captain calmly surveyed the scene before him. A Federation craft along with several humans wearing no uniform. Surely the Federation wouldn't be so stupid as to trespass so deeply into Imperial space, but stupid did seem to be the Galactic Federation's stock in trade these past few years. While not officially at war, the Empire held the same view of the Federation as the Terran Republic and for exactly the same reason.

Those Feds were about to die.

"Is everyone ready, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Captain." Zzuural briefly glanced back at the Lieutenant with satisfaction. She was a promising Juona, already a Nightguard officer at her age.

"Good. Keep ready with that stopwatch. Hopefully, we will get to have a nice little live-fire exercise. I relish the chance to cook some Federation long-pork."

"Long-pork?"

He glanced back at her. "You are unfamiliar with the term? It's what our Terran friends call the humans in the Federation. They are also called 'porkies'. They are quite the vile slurs. I recommend adopting them."

"Yes, sir. I will at once."

The Captain wrinkled his eyes in a smile at her response. He found her formality amusing as always. One of the humans approached them. He casually flipped open the catch on his blade. The human's courage was admirable. He would reward them with a proper death. Porkie or not, courage should be respected and deserved ceramic. He felt his pulse starting to rise. He lost a lot of human friends on "Red Sunday", and it would be nice to spill a little blood in their honor.

He suddenly stopped and stared in complete surprise. His chromatophores unconsciously flickered, and yellow pinpricks of surprise contrasted starkly against his normal disciplined nightguard black hide.

"Stand down. Repeat. Everyone stand down."

"Sir?" Lieutenant Guzzala asked. She was shocked at the speckles of color on her Captain's skin. She had never seen that before, regardless of the situation.

"These aren't porkies." The Captain said, his eyes scrunched in the biggest smile she had ever seen.

The Captain increased his pace towards the human female. The female stopped, and her eyes widened. Guzzala wasn't completely familiar with human body language, but it was clearly a deviation from how she moved a second before.

"Major Donovan?" Captain Zzuural said as his skin started to ripple with yellow waves of astonishment.

"Holy shit! Commander… fuck... Captain Zzu!" the human exclaimed joyously.

The Lieutenant looked on in shock as her Captain rushed forward and wrapped his tentacles around the human who returned the embrace. She was so stunned that her skin shifted from Nightguard black to a muted charcoal gray for a full five seconds.

"Captain?" The woman asked as she hugged Captain Zzuural. "Damn, exactly how much semen did you have to drink to get that on your collar?"

The Lieutenant's skin flashed red ever so briefly. Her Captain just laughed as he released the human.

"Oh, only as much as your grandfather drank every single day as he knelt before us," Zzuural laughed as he swatted her playfully.

"And exactly how did that work for you? Has the Imperial honor recovered from the ass-lashing we handed you yet?"

The Lieutenant couldn't remain silent.

"You did not 'kick our ass'! We graciously decided to negotiate a peaceful-"

"Kid, I was there, and I know an ass-lashing when I receive one. We lost," The Captain laughed, rippling with amusement. "We lost, and we lost big time."

The Lieutenant couldn't control her chromatophores, and green rings of irritation danced across her skin.

"Yeah," Sheila responded, "We weren't conquered, and you didn't lose. We each allow the other their illusions, but in truth, the Empire totally rolled over us like a laden transport, and later we completely mopped the floor with your ass."

The Lieutenant's skin now had green rings rippling past green rings.

"Relax, Lieutenant," Captain Zzuural said with a smile. "There is no lost honor. We were fighting the Terrans, a very fearsome opponent, on their home turf."

He patted a tentacle affectionately.

"The Imperial honor can handle one loss per thousand years as long as it is against something like the Terrans. We'll get them next time."

"In your dreams, Zzu." Sheila snorted. "Too bad we have so many other asses to lash before we can have that rematch."

"Yes, the universe seeks to keep us quite occupied in that regard," Captain Zzuural said with a grin. "Speaking of, would you mind enlightening me concerning that Class Twelve. We thought you all to be porkes and were about to have a luau."

"We stole it," Sheila said, returning his grin.

"Stole it?" Captain Zzuural said in confusion.

"Sir, you need to see this," Lieutenant Guzzala said as she handed the Captain a data tablet.

"Wow, Sheila," the Captain said as he read the report, "I suppose congratulations are in order. You've seem to have made the most interesting transition to civilian life."

"Yeah, we like to keep busy."

"I'm astonished. For you, of all people, to abandon the Republic, to become a… a…."

"A hardened criminal?"

"Yes. The Sheila I knew was many things but a criminal?"

"I resigned my commission immediately after that horseshit treaty. When we decided to just stop and let them off the hook, that was it. My whole fucking battalion was massacred on Red Sunday. Boris, Twitchy, Glitter Eyes, Susan, Skittles… Colonel Lassiter and his entire family... All of them just wiped out. The only reason I'm here is that I decided to… Decided to take the weekend off."

Captain Zzuural laid a tentacle on Sheila's shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done."

"They survived Corvux. They survived Corvux and all the rest only to be killed in their sleep, Zzu. A lot of good people were murdered for absolutely no good reason after we damn near gutted ourselves, stopping the bugs," Sheila said with hate in her voice. "Then, after a little slap on the wrist, we decide to let the Feds off? Fuck that. I just took a walk."

Sheila grinned wickedly.

"So… After becoming a civilian, I came across some like-minded individuals and..."

"Just like Corvux..." Captain Zzuural said, his skin rippling with amusement and malice.

"Basically. We decided that the Feds got off light, and we were going to do something about it. And we have."

"You say that, but I'm not seeing that here, just filth like a lot of drug trafficking, piracy, and illegal arms sales. It is hardly the noble cause you describe."

"Hey, waging our own little campaign is expensive," Sheila shrugged, "Drugs pay the bills, not to mention that poison goes right into the veins of the porkies. Our drugs have killed more porkies than our bullets ever could. Those arms sales? Those have all gone to the hands of the right people. We've supplied a lot of guns, rockets, grenades… nukes… to people who either want to make trouble in the Federation or take a shot at the Federation itself. Arms dealing is a force multiplier. As far as the piracy goes, I can assure you that the targets aren't random."

Sheila looked at her old friend.

"I can see your disapproval, but the ends justify the means," she said. "I walked away from honor when I walked away from the uniform. These days, anything goes. If we can do damage, any damage, or make a buck at their expense, then we do it."

"I cannot condone your actions. I nearly weep to see what you have become, but I do understand your decisions and considering your motive," Captain Zzuural said as he looked at the tablet in his tentacle, "you have done damage, a pretty good bit of it."

"Yeah, and you probably don't have the latest information. We just drew blood. We are laying low after what was the single best strike we have ever made," Sheila said with a grin. "We also are no longer wanted by the Republic. I just got back from Terra after having a long heart-to-heart with some people. As long as we don't get caught doing something stupid, they won't be looking for us anymore."

"Ok. I believe you. Again, I won't say that I approve, but I accept it. These are dark days, and I will not judge. You do what you must."

"Sir, you can't possibly..." The Lieutenant interjected.

"Can't possibly do what?"

"We can not ignore this. These are wanted-"

"I determine that this is an independent para-military group opposing the Federation, not simple criminals. They aren't wanted in the Empire, and they maintain that they are not wanted in the Republic. They are officially not our concern. We investigated a Federation craft in Imperial space and have determined that they are not Federation agents and a stolen Federation spacecraft is again, not our concern."

"But, sir, you only have her word for it and-"

"Careful, Lieutenant. I said they are not our concern. I know this human very well, and I know when she is lying, and she isn't."

"How do you know her?"

"I was on Corvux. I ran with her for two years. She is a true warrior and worth the benefit of the doubt."

"You were on Corvux?" The Lieutenant asked in surprise.

"Yep. My ship got blown apart, and by some miracle, my escape pod survived Collective target practice and made it to the surface," the Captain said matter of factly. "I met the Terrans and worked with Major Donovan and Colonel Lassiter for the whole time. She could be guilty as Hell, and I would still let her walk, but I do believe her."

The Lieutenant's skin radiated misery. The Captain smiled as he laid a tentacle on one of hers.

"Look, if it will smooth your colors, I will make a level one query to Imperial Intelligence. They will know the truth," he said reassuringly, and then he gestured to the Paper Tiger. "Besides, look at their actual ship. They aren't going anywhere soon. We have time to figure all of this out."

"Well, I do have one way of verifying my story," Sheila said with an impish grin. She remotely opened the Class Twelve's cargo hatch and beckoned them inside.

***

Captain Zzuural's eyes widened in happy surprise.

"By the Empress," He whispered in awe as he beheld the cargo.

"Clearly, we have been to Terra and recently," Sheila said as she grabbed a coconut and tossed it to the Captain.

He snatched it out of the air and tucked it under his body as his beak started tearing through the husk. His skin rippled with pure delight as he began to slurp away at the coconut water.

"Oh yeah," he said happily as he demolished his prize. "Yep. They have been to Terra." Sheila then tossed one to the Lieutenant who caught it and looked at it dubiously.

"You like coconut?" The Captain asked, knowing the answer. Coconut was a flavor universally adored by the Juon.

"Yes, sir?"

"Well, you haven't ever actually tasted real coconut before."

"I have, sir," the Lieutenant said, rippling with irritation. "When I graduated officer school, my creche celebrated with a cake covered with real shaved-"

"Just be quiet and eat." The Lieutenant cautiously put the odd thing she was given underneath herself.

"No, like this," the Captain said as he grabbed another coconut and tilted himself back, revealing his damp glossy beak.

The Lieutenant was scandalized at her Captain's inappropriate display. She had never seen his beak before. Rippling with embarrassment, she copied the way he ripped into the coconut.

Moments later, her eyes scrunched nearly closed as waves of joy danced across her skin.

"This, my dear Lieutenant, is a real, fresh, juicy, delicious coconut straight from beautiful Terra herself. Our dastardly villain has indeed been there."

He glanced over at the Lieutenant and wondered if she even heard him.

"I think she needs a minute," Sheila said with a laugh as she rolled another coconut the Lieutenant's way.

"My dear comrade, any chance you may be willing to sell a few pallets of these treasures to some hard-working, loyal servants of the Empire?" The Captain asked.

"Absolutely not!" Sheila said with a smile. "You take what you want, old friend. You guys deserve a treat. In fact, let's have that luau."

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