First Contact

Brentili'ik woke up slowly, reaching out to find either of her fluffy broodcarriers. She patted around the bed for a moment, her eyes still closed, frowning as she didn't find either of them. She patted around a bit more, realized that she was alone in bed, and sat up suddenly.

She queried her datalink, which showed her a line-art schematic of the house.

Vuxten, Flopsy, Synthal'la and Ilmata'at were in the room with her.

She frowned and got out of bed, looking around.

She couldn't see anyone.

Kneeling down, she looked under the bed, moving the dust ruffle out of the way.

Brown eyes sparkled and a long red tongue came out of licked her face. Flopsy made happy noises and licked her some more, the dog's tail thumping from under the bed.

Synthal'la looked out. "vuxten sleeping" she said softly.

Brentili'ik nodded and laid on her stomach, wiggling under the bed. Past Flopsy she found Vuxten sleeping between Synthal'la and Ilmata'at, curled up slightly, his pillow over his head and his arm under his head.

Sighing in relief she cuddled up with him, feeling Ilmata'at cover her with the broodcarrier's fluffy tail.

She'd read about it in the pamphlets and guides. A lot of Atrekna War veterans got used to sleeping under their cot, putting their body armor on top of it and pushing dufflebags along the outside, to absorb shell fragments. Once they got home, they often slept under the bed, finding the feeling of safety that was lacking when they slept on top of the bed.

Vuxten made a soft noise in his sleep and put his arm over Brentili'ik.

She held his forearm and closed her eyes.

-----

The park was sunny and warm, with growing green things everywhere, a kidney-bean shaped pond that had water fountains hidden just below the surface in the middle, and well maintained paths of white stone. Robots drifted around, keeping the vegetation trimmed, spraying the walkways, and keeping the grass cut to just the right height. The playground was full of podlings and squirmlings and other small children, all shrieking with glee as they played on the swings or the wooden construction that had ladders, slides, bridges, places to hide, and places to jump from.

Brentili'ik tried to ignore her ever-present guards as she sat holding Vuxten and Synthal'la's hands, with Ilmata'at holding Vuxten's other hand. Flopsy and the podlings were all running around, with the exception of the older ones that had already been a few years old when she had adopted them.

"This is nice," Vuxten said suddenly.

"sun is warm" Synthal'la said, her voice pleased.

"It really is," Brentili'ik said, smiling.

"podlings happy" Ilmata'at's voice was soft but happy.

"I meant to ask, how long are you on leave?" Brentili'ik asked.

"miss vuxten" Ilmata'at said.

"Two months and a week. I had a lot of leave saved up. I'm going to take a little, cash some in, and put the rest toward my retirement," Vuxten said. He laughed and shook his head, the laughter having a slight bit of darkness that made Brentili'ik hold back a frown. "A year or so ago, if you'd told me I'd been thinking about my retirement, I'd have called you crazy."

Brentili'ik squeezed Vuxten's hand with her own. "Feeling like we might be able to spend some time together?"

Vuxten nodded.

"love vuxten" Sythal'la said softly, resting her head on Brentili'ik's shoulder and giving a pleased sigh.

"happy vuxten home" Ilmata'at laid her head on Vuxten's shoulder.

They sat together, quietly, in the sunshine, watching their podlings play.

-----

Brentili'ik put her face in her hands and groaned out loud.

When the Kistimet Corporation had collapsed, she had followed the advice of the Mantid diplomatic liaison and leveraged what she could to buy the assets of the Telkan System in the name of the Telkan people.

After a full inventory, as well as a survey, it had largely been little more than a formality that turned the Telkan System over to the Telkan people.

Only now, the Confederate Exploration, Survey, Colonization, and Habitation Department had finished the survey of the planets that the Kistimet Corporation had owned.

For the most part, Brentili'ik had left the dealing with the out of system assets up to the Mantid Diplomatic Corps, her hands full with keeping the Telkan people from going crazy when presented with so many bewildering options.

Now, she had finally read the reports that she had just been shuffling off to the side.

Apparently the Telkan people owned six other stellar systems that, after the Atrekna War and Shade Night, were completely uninhabited. The Confederate System Claim Agency wanted to know if the Telkan intended on keeping those systems or wished to put them up for sale.

It had gone out with a vote to the Telkan Senate and the Senate had voted to keep them.

Which meant that either industrialization had to take place or it had to have a population of at least five thousand settlers on it.

But the Senate didn't want to fund industrialization or settlement. Private entities had volunteered, but the Telkan Senate had balked at allowing it, obviously fearing losing out on something that they wanted but couldn't see that this time.

"Sometimes I think it would be better if I just blew up the Senate and ran off into the sunset laughing maniacally," Brentili'ik said.

"Some leaders have done that over the eons," the Mantid diplomat Chooses Words Carefully said, expressing pleasure. "It rarely works out well for anyone involved."

Brentili'ik sighed and rubbed her face again. "Freedom. Horrible, horrible freedom," she quoted.

"Indeed," Chooses said.

"I'd resign but I'm afraid everything will fall apart without me," Brentili'ik said. She rubbed her face one more time and then lifted her head. "I never wanted this."

Chooses lifted up a water droplet and sipped at it, then set it back down. "The good leaders never do. Beware those that seek power and seek to maintain it, for they will do the unthinkable to hold onto and expand the power they so crave."

Brentili'ik nodded. "Sometimes I daydream that I just quit, go home, raise my podlings, be with my husband and my broodcarriers," she sighed. "It's been a long twelve years."

"I know my office would prefer that you remain in office. Administration changes are often sloppy and uncomfortable, setting back diplomatic efforts," Chooses stated. "I do understand your desires though."

Brentili'ik just nodded and tabbed up the next document that had five red stars next to it, proclaiming that this document was high priority and should be looked at before all others.

Just like every other document in the queue.

"Confederate Naval Logistics Services wants to expand the mining facility around The Eye of Telkan gas giant," she stated. She began reading it.

In some way, it felt like a small part of her was being smothered.

-----

Vuxten smiled as Flopsy ran back and dropped the ball, barking and wagging his tail. Vuxten picked up the ball, handed it to the six year old podling next to him, and urged the podling to throw the ball. It was a clumsy throw, but it sent Flopsy racing across the yard after the bouncing ball anyway, barking happily.

The podlings jumped up and down with excitement, clapping their hands as Flopsy ran back and dropped the ball, wagging his tail and barking.

Smiling, Vuxten picked up the ball and threw it again.

-----

Brentili'ik closed her eyes and gave a heaving sigh when the door shut behind the Director of the Telkan Intelligence Services.

She hit the stud to lock the door, opened up her desk drawer and plucked out the bottle of Ol' Wavy Grain. She poured herself a drink, slugged down a quarter of it, then refilled the glass.

"I liked it better when they were trying to kill me," she lamented, staring at the glass as she tilted and rotated it.

She'd barely finished the drink and hit an inhaler to wash away any intoxication when her intercom beeped.

Her 1415 hours appointment, a manufacturing magnate, had arrived.

The sound of the door lock disengaging was like thunder.

-----

Vuxten had his arms around Synthal'la and Ilmata'at as they walked through the mall, the two broodcarriers pushing the carts with the younger podlings in them, the older ones sticking close as they all moved together. The mall was huge, six stories, two rollercoasters, a ferris wheel, and play areas.

Behind them two of the six bodyguards were pushing carts holding gifts and other things the family had purchased.

In front of the procession, 471 was driving a small electric truck with two of the younger podlings in the back.

All of the podlings were eating ice cream.

"Can we have sticky thread candy?" one of the podlings asked.

Vuxten smiled wider. "Sure!"

"YAY!" all of the podlings cried out together.

-----

The door thunked as the lock engaged. There was the tingling on the back teeth of the psychic suppression field kicking in and the slight itch at the corner of the eyes from the privacy fields.

The Senior Director of Intelligence stepped forward and placed the thick datawafer on her desk. It was an inch thick, four inches wide, six inches tall. It was completely blank except for the Telkan Intelligence Agency logo melted slightly into the plastic.

"It wasn't easy to get," the Director, which Brentili'ik privately referred to as "Telkan-X" in her mind, said solemnly, moving back.

"How bad?" Brentili'ik asked.

"Honestly? I had to take a sedative after watching it. I've seen combat footage before, all of it from the Telkan Marines, but this, Madame Director, this is a whole different thing," Telkan-X said. He shuddered. "I was watching the biometrics, especially the brain waves, while I took it in the second time. That was more scary to me."

Brentili'ik nodded, picking up the cartridge and slotting it. She had to enter her thumbprint, retinal scan, and two passwords.

The hologram flickered to life.

Helmet cam from a suit of power armor.

She sat and watched the whole thing, even though she had to pause it repeatedly. She poured herself drinks. She poured Telkan-X drinks. She got up to look out the window and close her eyes, trying to push away what she had seen.

The video was only a little over an hour in length.

It took her nearly four hours to watch it.

Finally, it was over and she shut it off.

"You saw the emotional biometrics?" Telkan-X asked.

Brentili'ik nodded. "Completely dead. No emotional reaction to any of what happened."

Telkan-X nodded.

Brentili'ik checked the documentation that had inspired her to find the recording of the incident. She looked it over and slowly shook her head. The description of the incident had as much in relation to the action incident as a circle did to a grenade.

She signed her name at the bottom and tossed the email back to Telkan-X and the Telkan War Department.

"Did he survive?" Brentili'ik asked.

Telkan-X nodded slowly. "Wasn't even injured. Not a single scrape."

Brentili'ik leaned back in her chair. "That's a member if I ever saw one."

She looked back down at the hologram on the still open originating email.

The Telkan was in his entry uniform, a goofy smile on his face and his ears slightly crooked.

"Welcome to Third Telkan Marine Division, PFC Nrevetrek," she said.

-----

Turning the burgers over, Ralvex stepped back slightly to let the steam gush by, taking a drink of his beer at the same time. In the yard the Colonel was tossing a frisbee back and forth with his podlings. Ralvex speared a chunk of fire roasted pineapple and flicked it.

"Think fast!" he said.

471 caught it with a cybernetic bladearm, waving it around to cool it, and flashed a smiley emoji.

Musktet cracked another beer and shifted from where he was sitting on the picnic table in the back yard of the System Director's Manor.

Brentili'ik leaned against Ilmata'at, sighing. It had been a long three weeks and she'd hardly had any time to spend with her family.

Out of curiosity, she'd checked her previous schedules and realized, with slowly dawning horror, that it was the same office hours and workload she had been working under for nearly five years.

"Narcobrew or fizzybrew, Madame Director?" the Terran female Peel asked. She had a blonde baby on her hip that was looking around with bright eyes even as it held tight to the lemur's shirt.

"Fizzybrew," Brentili'ik said. She looked over and saw the massive Cathal Casey running across the lawn, his arms held straight out, podlings hanging from his arms, riding on his back, and holding tight to his calves as he made the roaring noises of someone trying to imitate an aerospace fighter. "How can he carry that many?"

Peel looked over, smiled, and shrugged. "Cathal loves children."

Brentili'ik just nodded, taking a drink off of the beer.

The four Casey brothers had a blanket and were using it to fling older podlings in the air and catch them, each older podling taking a turn.

Her implant pinged and she saw she had a priority call from her assistant. Grinding her teeth she checked the message.

The Telkan Senate wanted her, and her office, to come in immediately so she could listen to testimony by the War Office about forming another Space Force division. The Hamaroosan ambassador had been challenged by her second to a staff fighting duel and been beaten, meaning that she would have to deal with the more aggressive political posture. The Tnvaru Systems were requesting a tenth of a point reduction in tariffs.

All of the notifications needed her immediate attention.

She hit "IGNORE ALL" and went back to watching the chaos in her backyard.

Her implant pinged. Her security detail had a priority message from the Executor of the Senate. She had it passed to her implant.

The Senate was informing her that she didn't have the power to make a decision on tariffs.

"Momma, look at me!" one of the podlings said.

Brentili'ik opened her eyes and watched one of the younger podlings start to hop and shuffle.

"I'm dancing, momma, I'm dancing," the podling said.

'good dancing good' Ilmata'at crooned.

Brentili'ik's datalink chirped. More messages.

Peel looked at her. "Problems, Missus Brentili'ik?"

"I keep getting priority urgent messages from work," Brentili'ik said.

Peel just nodded. "Sorry."

Brentili'ik just sighed.

Her implant chimed again.

Twelve new priority messages.

She looked over at her husband laughing and socking Musktet in the shoulder.

Her implant chimed again.

-----

It was 0100 Hours, late at the System Directorship Building. The janitor was humming to himself as he ran the buffer. He was in a really good mood.

The Warfather himself had been walking through the halls when he had come on shift. The janitor had watched with amusement as the Warfather had run the buffer 'for old time's sake', polishing the floor with ease and skill that impressed the janitor.

He was moving down the hallway when he saw something on the door to the System Director's Office.

Touching his temple, he alerted security.

Within minutes there were agents looking at the piece of paper, all talking low and urgently.

The janitor snuck off the premises for a 'smoke break' and sold the image to the news services for four months worth the pay.

By morning, every news service was running the story about the piece of paper and what it meant for the Telkan people.

The image was splashed across every Tri-Vid in the system.

At the top of the paper was a simple statement. Then a command. Then the signature of the System Director.

It read, simply:

I QUIT

EAT A DICK

--BRENTILI'IK

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