Chapter 143: The Embers Start to Catch and a Most Unexpected Development

Chapter 143: The Embers Start to Catch and a Most Unexpected Development

In the Baleel Prime Minister’s office, slime slowly gathered on the ceiling, formed a long thick drop...

...and fell upon two naked baleel laying on the floor behind the wreckage that was once a well ordered and tidy desk.

“Again!” Jalabel, the Baleean Foreign Minister, exclaimed as she gave Gavomalen, the Prime Minister, a rather slimy Baleean kiss.

“Again?” Gavomalen laughed. “Well, okay...” he said as he started to flow on top of her.

“Not that, silly,” she laughed. “I meant... Wait, you can actually do it again?”

“It seems so,” the Prime Minister replied, turning his eyestalks downward meaningfully. “This Terran music seems to have quite the effect!”

Jalabel giggled and rolled over to accept him.

“Excuse me, Prime Minister?” a young Baleel staffer said as she walked into the room, “I have the latest... ohmycreatorsIamsosorry!” she squeaked and fled.

“That could be problematic,” the Prime Minister said as his “enthusiasm” started to deflate.

Jalabel’s feeding mouth stretched impishly, and she pressed “play” on the next track, looking at him meaningfully.

The prime minister shrugged, laughed, and continued to climb on top of her.

It’s not like it mattered anyway.

They were doomed.

***

A while later, the pair cuddled as they once again watched Jalabel’s favorite video. Strange alien forms danced amid large burning piles of what was identified as currency.

“It just seems so nice!” she sighed. “Did the humans actually get rid of money?”

“I don’t think so,” the Prime Minister sighed. “I think this is just the expression of a dream or something.”

“But wouldn’t it be wonderful? No money?”

“Well, just wait a couple of months,” the Prime Minister laughed. “You will get to live that drea— Ouch!” he squealed as Jalabel hit him with her radula.

“You know what I mean, you pore!” Jalabel laughed as she stroked him with her radula in a much more pleasant fashion.

“I agree that it would be lovely,” the prime minister said thoughtfully. “But is it even possible?”

“Karashel says the Xx did it. In her diary, she went on and on about the Xx Councilor’s grav-limo, how incredible it is, and how it didn’t cost him a single credit. Can you imagine not only being able to have something that nice but every single Baleel being able to have something like that if they wanted? No poverty, no hunger, freedom to be whatever you wanted to be... (sigh)... I could make pottery!”

“I didn’t know you could make pottery,” the Prime Minister said in surprise.

“I can’t!” Jalabel laughed happily, “I’m terrible at it... but I could suck at pottery for the rest of my days!... So could every other Baleel! We could be free to suck at whatever we wanted to suck at!”

“Dare to dream,” the prime minister snickered.

“We should,” she said quietly.

“We should what?”

“Dare to dream,” she replied. “We have followed the rules ever since those assholes invaded our system, and where has it gotten us?”

“Invaded?” the prime minister asked dubiously.

“What would you call it, then?”

The prime minister mused silently.

“Invaded works,” he replied.

“I think...” Jalabel said thoughtfully, “I think we should unleash her.”

“Who?”

A sinister smile spread across Jalabel’s face as her eyes shone with malice.

“Karashel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll send you the contents of her drive. Our little councilor has a few ideas concerning the Federation and how to deal with them. I say we let her. Fuck, I say we help her.”

“Well, she does have that mysterious ‘favor’ from the Kalent...” the prime minister mused. “I was hoping that we could use it to get a reprieve from our current predicament.”

“And then what?” Jalabel demanded. “We will be right back here within the decade, and you know it. We’ve been ‘targeted’ for harvest, and they are going to scrape us down to nothing. How about we actually fight them?”

“I think the tunes have gotten to you a bit too much,” the prime minister replied. “Fight the entire Federation? It’s impossible.”

“The humans did!” Jalabel exclaimed. “They took on the Vulxeen and won. Hells, the Terrans rebelled against the entire Empire and won!”

“Yeah, but we aren’t humans,” the prime minister replied, “We are just Baleel. What in the void are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Jalabel said thoughtfully, “But I do know that if we don’t do something, we are done for.”

“That’s true,” the prime minister sighed. “Alright. Let’s ‘fight the powers that be’...”

He looked into space for a few moments.

“I think we should invite a few people over for a luncheon and a ‘concert’,” he grinned. “I’ll make the arrangements. And you, tell our little pill popping maniac to wreak havoc.”

Jalabel grinned at him.

“First Lady!!!” a familiar (and frantic) female voice squealed from down the hall. “The Prime Minister is very busy and—“

“I can smell how busy he is from here! Out of my way!” a female bellowed.

The door flew open. (well, opened somewhat quickly. Baleel aren’t exactly fast.)

“Well, well, well...” a baleel female said as she undulated in. “This is why you failed to appear for our scheduled luncheon? I had to entertain those dryflanks all on my own, you pore!”

“I do apologize, darling,” the prime minister said pleasantly. “Something ‘came up’.”

“‘Something came up’? Now that’s rich,” his wife replied coolly. “You haven’t been able to... oh my word...” she gasped as her eyes dilated in surprise.The inaugural upload of this chapter took place via N0v3l-B1n.

“You have absolutely no idea how delighted I am that you walked in here while I’m in my current state,” The prime minister said as he offered her a neural interface... “Now, please let me do to you, with you, what I have wanted to for so long.”

“You both have some explaining to do,” the First Lady said as she undulated forward, “... afterwards...” she added with a little giggle as she started to shrug out of her shawl.

The staffer slammed the door closed and decided to just go home for the day. The world had gone crazy, and she really didn’t want to know who went in there next...

...just like she really didn’t want to know that the prime minister was huge!

I mean, seriously...

***

“I gotta question,” Karashel said to Caw as they had a snack in the Xx embassy canteen.

Caw sighed.

“Why must you announce your queries like that?” he groused, “Why can’t you simply ask a question like a rational sophont?”

“Because I know it bugs you,” Karashel smiled. “When you swear, you always say ‘by the progenitors’ or ‘by the ancient gardeners’. Why?”

“Because we prefer to flavor our oaths with things that are real.”

“The progenitors were real?!?”

“As far as we can tell,” Caw smiled as he popped a morsel of green-stag venison into his mouth, “Thanks for letting us have the meat, by the way. it’s delicious!”

“Don’t mention it,” Karashel replied. “Thanks for saving my snot.”

“Hunting is quite the thing for us Xx, you know. Pulling down a healthy green-stag with your bare... whatever you call those... didn’t hurt your image one bit, ‘huntress’.”

“Whatever,” Mark replied dismissively. “What do—“

“Perverting my name is a grievous insult, and you know it! Address me by my name, NOW!”

“What do you want, Harrux-TA?” Mark replied with a smirk.

“Now you sully it further?!? How DARE you!”

“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” Mark replied. “Get out.”

“Gentlemen, please,” the Kalent said with a pained bubble. “Harruux-ta, might I remind you that we are not alone, and Mr. Guilderan, may I inform you that I am carrying someone of extreme importance with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Mark asked with annoyance.

The Kalent reverently reached into his bot and pulled out an ornate gold cube.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Guilderan,” a pleasant non-human voice said in perfect Terran.

Mark blinked. This was unexpected.

“Likewise,” Mark replied. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with.”

“My name is unimportant and quite the mouthful, so you can simply call me K.T. I do not hold a specific office, but I do hold a rather esteemed position among the Kalent and thus the Federation.”

“Lord K.T. is far more important than any other life form you have ever had the honor of addressing,” the Kalent said smugly.

“My child, Mr. Guilderan has the Imperial Throne on speed-dial,” the box said with amusement. “Let’s not overstate things.”

“As you say, my lord,” the Kalent replied, bowing low in his globe.

Mark leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. He had never seen a Kalent, any Kalent bow and scrape like that before. Even old scaly snatch was acting “funny” around that thing.

This might actually be important.

“Okay, Lord K.T.,” he said in a much more polite tone. “I take it you are some sort of Kalent’ Lord’? I was unaware that the Kalent had nobility.”

“Some of the Kalent insist upon using that term, but I have no title or lands, nor is it a feudal title like it would be in the Empire. They just keep calling me ‘lord,’ and I’ve tired of correcting them.”

“As you say, My Lord,” the Kalent intoned, bowing again. “Thank you for allowing us to address you by that term.”

Okay, now this was just weird.

“The Kalent ‘Lords’ normally stay deep within the oceans of their homeworld and only very rarely speak with outsiders,” Harruux-ta said in a very stiff, formal tone. “In my entire career, this is the first time that I have ever had the honor of sharing the room with one in any fashion, and I consider it one of the high points of my life.”

“You honor me, Harruux-ta,” the box said cheerfully as Harruux-ta looked like she was about to pass out.

“So are you in that little box, or is that a transmitter of some sort?” Mark asked as he glanced at his holo screen. It showed no active transmissions.

“It’s a transmitter,” the voice responded. “I am still on our homeworld though I would love to visit Terra one day. Perhaps in a few centuries, we will be friendly enough for it to be possible.”

Mark idly typed an alert on his keyboard as he listened.

“It’s a simple gravity wave transmitter that is being relayed to our ship in orbit where an active hyperlink communicates with me back in the Federation. It is possibly low enough power for it to not be immediately noticeable,” K.T. said helpfully. “You will undoubtedly detect it in your subsequent investigations.”

Mark scowled at the box. It was a cheap power-play, and it was working.

“I leave the tech stuff to the techs. My job is diplomacy,” Mark said with a smile. “So, what can this diplomat do for you today?”

“There are two reasons why I sought an audience with you,” the box replied as Harruux-ta looked at it with alarmed confusion. “The first and most pressing reason involves a Federation citizen being held in one of your delightful Terran jails.”

“You assholes are in no position to criticize our detention facilities!” Mark snapped as the Kalent hissed angrily.

“Nor was I intending to,” the box said before the Kalent could speak. “Actually, your entire Judicial branch is quite reasonable, and your detention facilities are very humane and well run, at least most of them. I intended no slight, and you are correct. Compared to some facilities in the Federation, your jails are beacons of enlightenment and mercy. I have no doubt that the Federation citizen in question is being well treated. However, I would still like to discuss the possible release of the individual and her return to her home.”

“And just who would this ‘citizen’ be?”

“Nobody of any real importance, just a Plath, goes by the name of Sheloran, I believe.”

“And ‘nobody of any real importance’ has one of you Kalent Lords, an entity that has old scaly britches over there damn near peeing herself and has a Kalent doing headstands in his fishbowl, showing up?”

“The Plath are an unusual case,” the box said smoothly. “They are a simple people, not used to the ‘complexities’ of galactic life and not equipped to deal with foreign powers. By chance, I have a personal friendship with some of them and am shamelessly abusing my power by interceding on their behalf.”

“I see,” Mark smiled, not buying a single word. A few keypresses confirmed his suspicions.

He thought that name sounded familiar.

“Well, that ‘simple person’ is in a whole lot of trouble,” he replied. “She is being held pending trial for multiple homicides. The Republic takes that sort of thing somewhat seriously.”

His eye caught a slight change in the font and format of the record. It was flagged.

Interesting...

“From what our legal experts have deduced,” the box replied, “There is an excellent chance that she will be acquitted in a jury trial, especially since the Harkeen have been classified as ‘raiders’. No jury you can muster will convict someone for killing raiders, even with the... enthusiasm... with which Sheloran did the deed. There is simply no reason to hold her any longer.”

“Like I said, I’m just a diplomat. I leave the legal analysis to the DOJ. I’m sure that everything will work out just as you say, but the system has to run its course.”

“And I have complete faith in that system,” the box said soothingly, “However, diplomacy can have its place even in judicial matters. The Kalent will consider it a personal favor if this individual was released to us, which ties directly into the second reason why I am here.”

“And what is that?”

“The Kalent would like to have an official embassy here on Terra and wish to start forming a direct relationship with the Republic independent of the Federation. Releasing Sheloran would go a long way towards cementing that relationship... and possibly a non-aggression pact? Maybe an exchange of technology that could be of interest?”

“Lord K.T.?!?” Harruux-ta snort-hissed in shock.

“Ambassador,” the box said in a friendly tone, “You have been most helpful, but you can leave now. I would like to speak with the Secretary of State privately.”

“But...”

“We have made our dissatisfaction and our disappointment clear on more than one instance over these past few years, and now the Kalent have decided that it is in our best interests to start interacting with the galaxy directly. You can destroy the Federation, wasting all the time and effort we have expended therein if you wish, but I certainly hope you didn’t have any illusions that we would allow ourselves to go down with it. We have made recommendation after recommendation, and our guidance has been ignored time and time again. The Federation’s handling of the human crisis was the last grain of sand, Harruux-ta, the last grain. We no longer feel that our future is necessarily the Federation’s, and as a result, we are starting to make moves to secure the safety and future of the Kalent should the Federation continue along its self-destructive path. We are still part of the Federation, and we still hope that it finds the right path and are still committed to guiding and assisting all of you, but we are no longer willing to stake our people’s future upon the Federation magically righting itself. The Collective is coming, Harruux-ta. The Collective is coming, and the Kalent need allies worthy of us.”

Harruux-ta made a strangled, sobbing noise.

“But, Lord K.T, we are—“

“A worthy ally?” the box asked politely, “The entire Federation is incapable of fighting the Forsaken. If you are powerless before a handful of freighters and a few insurgents on the ground, what chance do you have against the Collective? No, my dear Harruux-ta, you are not a worthy ally. I’m truly sorry. I truly am, but the Kalent people cannot trust in the strength of the Federation. If it was just a question of martial strength or technology, it wouldn’t be an issue. But, unfortunately, the problems go far deeper than that, and you know it. Now, please depart. If you wish to discuss this at length later, we can do so, but the ‘Lords’ have spoken, and we consider the Federation experiment to be a failure. Now, please go. The Terrans and I have much to discuss.”

With a sob, Harruux-ta lurched from the room, smashing through the closed door as she fled in terrified confusion.

Well, goddamn, Mark thought to himself as he took a deep breath. No matter who would “win” this stupid mess that he had put himself into, he was still the Secretary of State, and this...

This was HUGE.

Patricia Hu, Jon Wintersmith, Momma Augustine, and all the rest could go and fuck themselves for a little bit. If a non-aggression pact with the Kalent was possible...

It would completely ruin what shreds were left of Patricia Hu’s plan...

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was time to choose. Who did he work for? Where did his loyalties lie?

“I’m going to need a minute, Lord K.T,” Mark said calmly.

“Take your time,” the box replied knowingly.

Across the galaxy, an ancient and huge Abyssal Lord grinned in the eternal darkness of the trench that he had called home for thousands of years.

“Checkmate,” he chuckled to nobody in particular.

***

Author’s note: The Baleel have a slightly different view of ‘loyalty’ and marriage than humans do. For the First Lady, being “betrayed” by being left hanging during an unpleasant social engagement was far more vexing than finding her husband wiggling around on the floor with the Foreign Minister. What really pissed her off was that he blew off the quite annoying “responsibility” in favor of playing hide the tendril. Her annoyance was akin to a spouse who got stood up for an important date because her mate ran off for a night out with the boys or decided to stay home and play video games instead.

Most Baleel marriages, while nominally monogamous, are tacitly open (or at least have plenty of hall passes). In fact, many Baleel are happily raising children that they didn’t father (or bear in some cases) as their own.

And someone catching their spouse and promptly joining in is a very tired trope in their sitcom, romcoms, and porn.

What had the poor staffer so scandalized was that it was happening in their version of the Oval Office and exactly who was getting freaky.