Chapter 1: 1: Break Glass in Case of Emergency

The bar went quiet as the duo of humans entered. They stood there at the entrance for what felt like an eternity, but in reality, no longer than just a handful of seconds while they orientated themselves. Like any other patron would have done in their place. Alas, they were human. Something the pair realised fairly quickly, and with a sigh, they made their way to one of the far corners and sat at a lone table away from any other of the fifty or so patrons.

The two were almost complete opposites to one another. Where one was tall and wide with dark skin and no hair at all, and the other was thin and small with pale white skin and long blond hair. In a sense, they almost perfectly captured the duality of the nature of their species. Still, both carried themselves with dignity and confidence and shared a similar disinterested look. The kind that was all too common for law enforcers around the galaxy and universally recognised regardless of facial appearance. Even their measured footsteps echoed in perfect unison, reminding the patrons that there was no such thing as a civilian human outside of the Sol system, which is partly the reason for the cold welcome the duo received.

There was a collective release of breath when the two erected a privacy barrier around their booth. Out of sight, out of mind, was the agreed status quo. And no sooner the usual atmosphere of mirth and low conversations returned to the bar. Although, if Reprosa Vash bothered to listen in on the conversations around him, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they all involved the humans in one way or another. Not that he would ever stoop so low as to eavesdrop, such an act would be a stain on his pride and honour and a black mark on the entire Grex species.

“By the Great Rider, I would really like to put my fist through the head of whoever discovered the miserable rock on which those creatures dwelled. They are nothing but arrogant children. The way they walk and talk like they own it all is really messed up.” He rumbled to the small group of friends and new acquaintances sharing his table. All proud Grex, of course, as it should be.

Although, officially, nothing was stopping him from mingling with the other species, it was something that was frowned upon before becoming a university student officially. After all, proper protocol and etiquette were there for a reason and had to be followed. The last thing Reprosa wanted was to embarrass himself and be considered an uneducated simpleton. Or worse, that he belonged to the lower working class.

“They should know their place. It is at the bottom.”

“They should be quarantined on that dull rock of theirs if you ask me.”

“The GU’s going to confiscate their assets first and use them for something good. That’s how it will go, mark my words.”

Without even waiting for their brains to process his carefully delivered statement, his companions agreed and expanded on his remark. Making it clear who was going to remain as part of Reprosa’s social circle and who was going to be shunned later on. An unfortunate but necessary step in advancing one’s own status.

Typical behaviour for all Grex males, just entering their first reproduction cycle, who were granted freedom from their dotting brood for the first time. But, sadly, the most idiotic statement didn’t come from one of the other juveniles. Instead, it was issued by a Grex that was a few cycles older, as indicated by how their scales were turning a clean midnight blue, whereas Reprosa’s and his broodlings were still in different shades of bright red.

At first, Reprosa had assumed that this one would’ve made a good first partner before committing to courting a proper female, but now he was having second thoughts. To his dismay, their conversation was interrupted by the bartender. Of course, it was natural that the creature could hear the heated words, considering that their table was closest to the transparent crystal bar.

“Don’t think even a Grex would have the strength to go slapping the entirety of the Core worlds.” The outcast, Lekaar, spoke levelly while mixing drinks. One of the mandatory requirements for taking the job, Reprosa reminded himself. She had to be emotionally stable and reasonable at all times.

Having a micro hive Lekaar, was almost a given for any high-class drinking establishment. She was the bartender, while her two other main copies served as bouncers and the dozen minor copies served as waitresses and cleaners—an entire shift for twice the wage of a single person. A bargain, to say the least. Besides, nothing spoke of true decadence as having an apex predator serve you drinks.

If one observed only her upper body, she looked quite like a human, well, mostly. Kind of. First, Reprosa would have to ignore the pale blue skin, the six white eyes, the elongated pointy ears, and the slightly longer and more thin fingers. And, somehow, pretend that he couldn’t see the pair of chelicerae hidden behind her plump lips. Also, there was the thing with the green hair flowing from her head down her back, which was actually a large grouping of trichobothria hairs, which shifted in accordance with the Lekaar’s mood.

However, looking at the bottom part of her body was a different story. Visible from behind the transparent crystal bar, he could see the form of a giant arachnid with its thin eight legs comfortably tucked beneath the large blue body. The reaction of the Grex was the usual one for any sapient species – stare in abject horror. It did not take long for him to push back the primitive instinct and the cocktail of hormones boiling in his head before he opened his mouth again.

“What do you mean, spawn?”

“Don’t they teach you anything in your overpriced schools? So much for the Grex’s fabled educational system.” The bartender’s jab was successful, and Reprosa could feel the scales covering his face turn pink in anger.

He was about to fume; however, she placed a glass on the bar and poured him a hefty dose of freshly fermented fruit mix. A peace offering by the looks of it, considering that the Lekaar set the drink on the crystal surface without registering it. It wasn’t enough, but it was a step in the right direction.

With one slender finger, she bid him to her. If they were on the Lekaar world of Hualla, accepting such an offer would be considered a benefit for the entire Grex race as it would have raised the collective level of the inelegance of the species. On the other hand, refusing it within a bar on a planet under Galactic Union control would be a sure way to get on the blacklist of any worthwhile establishment, at the least. At worst would be grounds for xenophobic investigation. The line of how rude one could be towards a Lekaar outcast was a thin one. Insults and slurs were tolerated to a point, but refusing to get near one was somehow crossing that blurred xenophobic line. It didn’t make much to Reprosa.

“Sit and listen.” She took a pair of well-made ceramic short cups and started to polish them. “You know why only Lekaar outcasts leave Hualla, right?”

“Because you are like a toaster that doesn’t heat. Defective…” He smirked at her.

“Right. Tell me a joke I’ve not ‘eard. The same thing every time. No imagination.” She took a small plasma burner from a shelf behind her and placed it on the bar next to the two cups.

“I hope you are not one of those who got accepted into MU! You see, an outcast, Lekaar is an infertile spawn mother with only a couple of female body units. It is ’cause of this that an outcast does not die around her ninetieth cycle. Instead, an outcast can leave a good five to six hundred cycles or so. Guess how old I be?”

As she said that she produced a sizeable ceramic cylinder with a black label and a white emblem indicating that a bio-chemical hazardous material was stored inside it. This made the Reprosa choke on his drink. If not for a wave of her hand, he would have made a line for the door: that and one of her primary copies standing right behind him, blocking any chance of escape.

“Not gonna answer? Finally, you do something smart. It’s not polite to talk age with a lady. If you continue like that, I might fall for’ya. Ya see, I’s a good one hundred and seventy-odd cycles old.” The way she spoke to him as if he were a lost farmer was grating. But there was little Reprosa could do, captivated as he was with the drink she was preparing.

“Been around most of the GU and some other places. Also, it means I’ve been around the time of the Visuarra Cleansing.” This got his attention, and the Grex shifted his head to look at the bartender.

Only for a moment, though. After removing most of the protective packaging, she placed the container on the burner and put on a short timer next to it. Puffs of white smoke began to make their way out of the container. This made the closest patrons to the bar, who had noted what the Lekaar was doing, move their chairs further away.

“Ya see… Back then, the powers that be found this lil’ol’ planet. What made this lil’ol’ planet so interesting t’all was that itwus cover’d in a plan….” She stopped and, for the first time, actually blinked. Slowly, so very slowly. After that, she burst into a short laugh before going silent. “S’cuse me f’raseck.” She left the bar and went into the back room.

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In about a minute, she came back with a well-made filter mask strapped on her face. Her complexion had turned a shade lighter, and even Reprosa could see that she was agitated.

“Because of you, I forgot to put this thing on. Had to use a detox shot because of you….” She trailed off, looked at the ceramic cylinder, and re-adjusted the mask on her face.

Seeing the horror written on his face, she added quickly. “Don’t go all scarlet on me. The bar’s ventilation system makes it so that nothing crosses to your side.”

“Where was I?” The Lekaar switched the topic before Reprosa could open his mouth. “Oh, yes. So, the powers that be found a nice little planet where the most prominent plant species was a caffeine-producing one. You can imagine how most of the major powers wanted to place a hand over such a find. A natural, almost endless source of one of the universe’s most psychotropic and deadly drugs. A war cast’s wet dream.”

The timer beeped, and the bartender removed the cylinder from the burner. She placed it on an expensive metal tray along with the two cups and a bowl of some sort of crystallised carbohydrate powder. While she poured some creamy substance into a couple of very small ceramic jugs, she continued to talk.

“Now, they had almost settled on how to split the planet between them. Drawn the maps, prepared the flags and all that when a slight problem arose. There was a sapient species living on that rock. The Bolithians, the all-knowing ticks that they are, called this problem the Visuarra. The thing was that unbeknown to the Prime species; those Visuarra were utterly mad. Driven to insanity by evolving alongside such a potent drug.” She shook her head and clicked her mouth. “Honestly, you’d think they should’ve seen that a parsec away.”

“Anyway, soon after uplifting them, the powers that be at the time realised that their new pets were as sane as a Jouvan high on oxygen.” She finished preparing the order, and a small copy dressed in a waitress’ uniform and a large filter mask came to pick it up. Behind it tagged one of the primary copies covered in a proper hazmat suit.

The smaller Lekaar placed the tray on a hover cart, and the primary copy stood fully erect above it. By reaching its full height, the Lekaar stood good four meters above the ground. Half of that was due to the length of her eight legs. The larger and smaller one started to make their way through the room towards the booth of the humans. All patrons gave them a wide breadth, and some looked with abject terror at the passing hover-cart. It wasn’t every day a patron’s order was delivered with actual physical security.

“You see, the Visuarra made believe to be goody-good, and as soon as they got access to advanced technology, the bastards turned to cleanse the galaxy of inferior life forms. Of course, that included anything that was not a backstabbing, manipulative lunatic of a species. I hope I don’t have to explain to you why the Falka, Jaraks and Bolivars, along with a dozen tertiary species, joined sides with them.” She paid close attention to the booth of the humans as they removed the privacy field and accepted the order before putting it up again.

As on cue, the bartender removed the filtration mask from her face and the collective sound of relief passed over the gathered patrons. After placing the safety equipment on the side of the counter, she proceeded to make a dozen of high-calorie shakes for a group of Ansi who had entered the establishment a while back.

“Usually, that would mean the major powers would just order a few secondary and tertiary species and have the matter settled. The problem was the Falka actually turned the upcoming conflict from conventional to chemical warfare. The idiots employed pure-caffeine warheads on the Core world of Gajjara II, giving the Visuarra quite a few unhealthy ideas. Things got out of hand at that point.” The bartender chuckled. “What was supposed to be a localised war went supernova and took the entire galaxy.”

“Before you know it, the sapient species collectively shat their pants. A large number of tertiary ones decided to switch sides or form sides of their own. A few of the secondary ones did so as well.” She gave the shakes to two of the waitresses who moved about the place.

The bartender took a bottle of Keffar liquid jam and began mixing a small portion of it with the same freshly fermented fruit mix, Reprosa was drinking and added some shaved ice.

“At that point, the Novara Conglomerate was dissolved, and the Novara prime species found itself in the position of refugees. They got out of their systems so fast that no one had any idea how many of them were left after the first attacks.….”

“Look, I do not have all night. Is there a point to the history lesson?” The Grex interrupted, the finished drink giving him the courage he needed.

“Ah…” The bartender let out a sigh as she finished the drink she was mixing. “You Grex are a piece of work. You think you are all better than the rest just because those in charge are considering elevating your kind to the position of Prime. Look over there; you see that glass box on the back wall?”

“Yes. It is the mandatory fire suppressor. What of it?”

“I would assume you know what it is printed on the front of the glass: In case of emergency, break glass!” The bartender’s lips curled into a smile as if she had said the greatest joke in the Galactic Union. All Reprosa could do was give her a blank stare.

“Seriously?” She picked a cleaning cloth and placed it over her shoulder. “Whatever.”

Taking a moment to verify the age of the group of slug-like Moloks, who had charged at the bar, she frowned at them, returning their identification stones. “No. You have to be four Molok cycles to place an order.”

She then turned her attention back to Reprosa and continued as if she hadn’t paused at all.

“That’s exactly what the Core worlds did. You see, there was a fire in the galaxy, and they needed a fire suppressor. So, they did exactly what any patron here would do in case of a fire - they broke the glass.” She gave him a conspiratory wink.

“Well, in this case, the glass was the no man’s quarantine zone around the human’s homeworld. And as you can imagine, once you break the glass, there is no chance of putting it back together. Especially when the fire suppressor is a sapient species that has evolved on a planet designed to be the mother of all Petri dishes of all known biological and chemical contaminants in the galaxy. So as not to use too much of your obviously limited brain power, if you have an issue with the humans being allowed to join the galactic community, take it to the powers that be.”

The Lekaar smiled and placed a large bottle of amber liquid on the bar. It had a bizarre label which read Vin. 9 in large red letters and beneath them in bold black letters: Scotch Whisky. What caught the Grex’s attention was the alcohol content of 40%. Rightly he assumed that it was a strong disinfectant for cleaning the bar.

A second later, he noticed the two humans standing behind him. Reprosa froze, not daring even to breathe. All courage had left him. After all, he was just a youth with a big mouth. The large dark-skinned one reached out and took the bottle, arching one of his strange brows. The smaller pale one cleared its throat in an exaggerated manner and addressed the Lekaar.

“Ambassador Soriana, are you quite done, playing barkeep? The ship to Terra cannot wait any longer without causing a diplomatic issue.”

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