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."
"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