Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter 174: Karashel's Radula

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?” The Gvortan Ambassador screamed as he grabbed the councilor and slammed him against the wall. “DID YOU EVEN READ THIS?!?”

“I didn’t have time!” the Gvortan councilor exclaimed trying to struggle free, “That dammed Baleel was selling our food supply right out from under us!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HER!!!” The ambassador screamed as he hurled the councilor across the room.

“We would have starved, or wound up entering emergency management!”

“IT WOULD BE BETTER IF WE STARVED!!!” the ambassador screamed as he kicked the councilor in the mid segment causing the ambassador to retch and flail.

“YOU RUINED US!!!” the ambassador screamed as his aides rushed into the office, grabbing him by the upper arms.

“(gag)… (cough)… Have you lost your mind?!?” the Gvortan councilor gasped as he struggled to his multiple feet.

“I lost MY mind?!?” the ambassador shrieked trying to struggle free. “You just signed over our entire race to those fucking garden pests!”

The ambassador reached onto his desk with one of his secondary limbs and slung a tablet at the councilor.

“And that’s just the tip of the fucking iceberg!” the ambassador shouted. “They are losing their minds back home!”

“This…” the councilor spluttered, “This is ludicrous! There is no way this will go through.”

“IT ALREADY DID!!!” the ambassador shrieked.

“What?” the councilor gasped. “Impossible! There is NO WAY this can be legal! We were coerced!”

“Did she put a fucking blaster to your head?”

“Well… no… but...”

“THEN IT ISN’T FUCKING COERCION!!!”

“Calm down, ambassador,” the councilor said, trying to remain calm himself. “We can simply refuse to honor this while we appeal.”

“And they will cut off the food supply which is now being delivered every two days!” the ambassador shouted. “And guess how long those shipments will last?”

“Then we will buy it from somewhere else!”

“You signed an exclusivity clause, you imbecile!” the ambassador yelled as one of his upper arms broke free, “We can’t legally buy food from anywhere else and if anyone does sell to us, which they won’t, you know what the Baleel can do to them. You fucking signed a blanket exclusivity clause! We can’t buy anything… no goods… no services… except from the ‘Baleean Good Vibes and Happiness Corporation’… besides, we can’t afford to buy from anyone else...YOU SIGNED OVER THE ENTIRE FUCKING TREASURY!!!”

“Look,” the Gvortan councilor said, trying to think fast. “This is clearly some sort of stupid joke. There is no way this will hold up and even the idiot Baleel have to know it. Karashel has always been problematic. We just need to lean on the ambassador, have their state department draft a new agreement. I’ll just—“

“NO!!!” the ambassador shouted. “You’ve done quite enough. You are going to take this over to the Judiciary and get try to get this dealt with! I’ll contact the Baleean ambassador and see what they are actually after and see if I can fix this.”

“With all due respect, ambassador,” the Gvortan councilor huffed, “I am still our councilor and I—“

“No, you’re not.” the ambassador snapped. “You are relieved of your duties.”

“What?!?” the councilor shouted, “You can’t do that!”

“You have already clearly demonstrated that you have absolutely no idea what can and can’t be done!” the ambassador hissed. “It is within my authority to do so, pending an emergency session of the Senate. You should know that. If you don’t, look it up.”

The ambassador, with great effort and many deep breaths, stopped trying to break free of the increasing number of aides that were restraining him.

“I am assuming your duties until a suitable replacement is nominated and approved,” the ambassador said with enforced calm. “Don’t even bother trying to call your friends back home because you don’t have any! In fact,” the ambassador snarled, “You might not want to go back home at all.”

Nemat, the former Gvortan councilor just stood there in shock.

“Ambassador...”

“The ONLY reason why I’m trusting you with going to the Judiciary office is that you have ‘cultivated’ contacts over there and obtained favors that you will use to fix this!” the ambassador hissed, “Because fixing this is the only way you can ever return home without being killed!”

“Ambassador… I...”

“GO!!!”

Former Councilor Nemat ran from the room.

The Gvortan ambassador opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a titanium flask with an oddly shaped hose attached to the top.

He put the hose deep into an opening in his neck and pressed a plunger.

Ffffffffffftttttttttttt

He inhaled deeply and exhaled, a faint silver grey mist escaping from the sides of his throat.

His aides looked at each other anxiously.

“Got something to say?” the ambassador snarled.

“No… ambassador...”

“Now get out of here,” the ambassador snapped. “I would like some privacy when I lick a Baleel’s palps.”

***

Two baleela huddled together in the break room of their embassy whispering and giggling (a common occurrence among the baleel of any gender).

“Have you seen the new ambassador?” a light green baleela giggled.

“Have I!” the other one, an exotic lavender beauty giggled back, “He’s dreamy!”

“And so much fun!” the green one giggled, “He’s always singing and dancing. It’s so cute!”

“I love that little wiggle he makes!” the lavender one gushed. “And that little song… How does it go? ‘Goo Ba Ba... Oh Wee Wee’? It sounds so nice! Have you ever heard it before?”

“No!” the green cutie exclaimed, “Not before he and his staff arrived. All of them sing it, though. I wonder what it’s from.”

“I asked the cute silver skin about it,” the lavender hottie giggled, “Have you seen him?”

“Have I!” the appealingly plump green ‘slug next door’ type giggled, “I’d slither through a salt flat just to taste his trail!”

She leaned in close.

“It tastes like wildflowers...”

They both squealed and giggled some more.

***

After taking another “blast” from his inhaler, the Gvortan ambassador called the Baleean Embassy.

“Good Vibes and Happiness Pizza!” an unfamiliar Baleel answered as strange alien music blasted in the background. “Have you tried our daily special? Two pizzas and a drink, only the entire net worth of your solar system! Order now before the price goes up!”

Oh that wasn’t a good sign...

“Is this the Baleean Embassy?” the ambassador asked, beyond perplexed.

“Hey!” the Baleel shouted, “We still calling this the Embassy?”

“What else are we going to call it, silly-wiggle?” a voice giggled from off screen.

“I am the Gvortan Ambassador!” the ambassador said forcefully, “and I demand to see—“

“Hang on,” the Baleel said, interrupting him, “This is the good part!”

The strange Baleel started violently bouncing as the strange alien music reached a fever pitch.

“Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!” the Baleel shouted, “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me...Motherfucka….”

The Gvortan ambassador just sat there, completely in shock. This was beyond unprofessional! This creature was just convulsing and shouting in some strange alien sounding language.

He activated his translator…

Oh dear... the ambassador just stared at the constant string of translated Old Terran “English”??? scrolling across his screen.

He was no longer even capable of being angry. He was just… confused…

He was so confused that he let the next track start, staring in horrified fascination at the text.

“Oh yeah,” the Baleel said after a moment, “You wanted something, claws?”

“Yes!” the ambassador said, collecting himself. “I demand to speak to the Baleean Ambassador!”

“Oh hang on!” the strange Baleel said happily. “I’ll go get him! One second...”

He got up and wiggled off.

He then wiggled back into frame.

“Ambassador Ugabbalen here,” the Baleel grinned, “What can I do for you?”

“What?” the Gvortan ambassador blurted in surprise. “Where is Ambassador Marsamen?”

“Retired,” the Baleel replied with that Baleel cheer, “Ambassador Marsamen is a great squirm, don’t get me wrong, he really is, but it was decided that his… constitution… wasn’t suitable for what representing the Baleelan State and the Good Vibes and Happiness Corporation will require in the days ahead.”

“And you’re his replacement?!?”

“Jellybean,” the Baleel bubble-chuckled, “I’m as shocked as you are! There I was enjoying retirement and then this freakin’ limo pulls up and this hottie just oozes out of it, slides up and says, ‘You are needed, come with me.’… well… Needless to say I beat her to the limo!”

The Gvortan ambassador just stared at his screen in horror.

“Only to find out that I was made the ambassador,” the Baleel snot-snorted, “What a letdown!”

The Gvortan just sat there in speechless horror.

“So, yeah...” the Baleel shrugged, “New management… Funny word that... management…”

The Baleean ambassador smirked.

“Ah… Yes… Well...” the Gvortan said desperately trying to get on top of this situation, “Yes… I wish to speak to you concerning the trade agreement that was signed—“

The Baleel started laughing.

“I can’t BELIEVE you pickles signed that!” he chortled sending slime bubbling up out of his breath hole, “(cough… cough)… I owe Karashel fifty credits!… speaking of hotties… Daaaamn… and quite the pea upstairs too! Gotta love that!”

The ambassador leaned in towards the screen.

“I’m totally going for it,” the “ambassador” whispered, “I have this thing for those ‘Angels on the outside, Devourers on the inside’ types… and let me TELL you… She is the most DEVOURER of any ‘devourer’ I have ever MET… Wow!”

The Baleean “ambassador” snickered.

“But you guys know all about that don’t you?”

The Gvortan ambassador bristled, his chitin squeaking with anger. A fucking… Baleel was laughing at him.

He finally got his rage back.

“You can’t possibly believe that this sick joke of an ‘agreement’ will possibly hold up!” the Gvortan said forcefully.

“Like I said, I didn’t possibly believe that you would sign it in the first place,” the Baleel snickered, “But, Karashel said that you would and she was right. She also said that it will go through… so… I guess I’m gonna believe that as well.”

The Baleean ambassador smiled that happy Baleean smile.

“See, we Baleel aren’t that bright,” he said cheerfully, “But we are just smart enough to know when someone is smarter and Karashel… now that little wiggle is smart. I am not losing another fifty to her. So… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

“Let’s drop the pretense,” the Gvortan hissed, “and you can drop the whole… whatever act that is. If you were appointed ambassador you clearly are capable of understanding simple logic as much as any Baleel can be.”

“Ooo!” Ugabbalen chirped happily, “High praise! Thank you!”

“You can either pursue this foolish agreement that your Councilor inappropriately coerced,” the Gvortan said firmly, “and be party to her blatant extortion, or you can put forward an actual agreement that won’t be laughed out of court.”

“I’m feeling kind of foolish today,” Ambassador Ugabbalen replied with a Baleelan giggle.

“Oh drop it,” the Gvortan snapped. “What do you really want?”

“I want you to read our bible,” the ambassador smiled.

“Sorry?”

“The second book of ages, chapter two,” the Baleel smiled, “It will tell you exactly what I want. See, we were enslaved once before… It tells you what happens next. If you have any questions after that, feel free to call again.”

The connection went dead.

***

Former Gvortan Councilor Nemat shook with rage.

“What do you mean he’s not taking any visitors?!?”

“I’m sorry, Councilor, Mister Kvyot-Awk is currently ‘engaged’,” a pleasantly dressed Marr chittered anxiously as it sat behind a desk outside his office. “He and many others are involved in a conference call at the moment.”

“Well tell him that it’s me!” Nemat shouted.

The Marr’s nictating membranes slid over its large eyes. They were soon covered by a flashes and glowing lights from the matrix of micro holographic emitters embedded into their surface, a body modification that was near universal among its people. The geometry of their eyes was perfect for it, so much so that incompatibility with the implants was considered a tragic disability.

It chuffed, its wide air filters causing the fine hair covering the back of its head to flutter. It truly disliked Councilor Nemat. He was a most disagreeable fellow and quite offensive to the Marr’s inherently polite nature.

Another thing that the Marr found disagreeable was delivering bad news, not exactly the best feature for someone’s secretary as many avoid doing it altogether.

It was a trade off. Their amazing politeness and nearly universal augmented reality made them excellent administrative support and clerical staff but one really had to know how to read them and understand their ‘language’. A cheerful good morning followed by the innocuous statement that you have messages from your spouse meant, “Good morning, you have message from your spouse.” An innocuous statement that you have a message from your wife without a cheerful greeting meant something else entirely.

A Marr calling you on your communicator politely informing you that your spouse is trying to get in touch with you and then abruptly hanging up? Yeah… That’s bad. Call home NOW!!!

“Mister Kvyot-Awk is currently involved in a conference call,” the Marr said with clipped professional tone. “One that he cannot disengage from.”

“This is URGENT!”

“I…” the Marr chuffed again, “I am aware of your situation… as is Mister Kvyot-Awk… (chuff)…”

“You are?”

“(chuff)… It is the reason for the conference call (uncomfortable fidget)… You will be contacted as soon as it is completed or if you would prefer you can wait with the others… (chuff)”

“The others?” Nemat asked, fear starting to seep into his voice.

The Marr chuffed again. It hated this.

“I’m…” it said sounding very unsure of itself, “I’m terribly (chuff)…”

It shivered.

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” the Marr said, its professionalism restored. “If you wish you can wait in conference room 136 where Mister Kvyot-Awk or the appropriate individual will address you all after the conclusion of the call.”

A small white polymer sphere popped out of a charging station behind the Marr and started glowing.

“Please follow the guide to conference room 136.”

“I don’t want ‘the appropriate individual’,” Nemat hissed, “I demand to speak with Mister Kyvot-Awk!”

“I will be certain to relay that… Mister Nemat.” the Marr replied. “You can wait for ‘him’ in conference room 136. Please follow the guide.”

Mister Nemat It hit Nemat like a kick to the mid-segment.

“What about Miz Glovvunnxocx?” Nemat asked urgently.

“Sir,” the Marr replied, “Anyone who can help you with your… situation… is in that conference call. Please follow the guide… Please...”

Not knowing what else to do, Nemat started following the glowing drone.

***

As soon as the door to conference room 136 opened, Councilor Nemat’s ever increasing sense of dread turned to a sick icy chill.

He had walked into rooms like that before but never here.

It was usually in a hospital… The last time was when his mother passed away.

He recognized many of the races present, solid ‘powerful’ ones, some staring out of the windows, others wandering about aimlessly, most just sitting there stunned and exhausted.

“Honey, listen carefully...” he heard a richly dressed Davrill quietly but urgently say into his phone, “Get a crystal and go to the bank…”

Looking about he saw Councilor Una perched on a window ledge, also whispering into her phone.

Nemat didn’t fail to notice that it wasn’t her usual nice one. It was a cheap model easily purchased from vending kiosks all over the city.

As soon as she saw him she snapped the phone closed.

He walked over.

“Councilor Una,” he said quietly. “Beating me to the snap once again?”

Una just nodded.

“Where is Councilor Ty?” Nemat asked, “The Molovnkt signed an agreement as well.”

“I don’t know,” Una replied.

“Perhaps he has been fired as well,” Nemat sighed.

“You’ve been fired?” Una whispered, “Can they do that?”

“The ambassador seems to think so,” Nemat replied, “He’s probably right.”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT KABL17T!” the OooOkt councilor shouted into his phone, “DON’T WASTE PRECIOUS TIME DENYING IT! YOU MIGHT BE A CHEATING HARLOT BUT YOU ARE STILL MY WIFE AND I CAN ONLY ASSUME LOVE OUR OFFSPRING! IS THAT CORRECT OR HAS MY ENTIRE LIFE BEEN FOR NOTHING? I NEED YOU TO SHUT ALL OF YOUR MOUTHS AND LISTEN!!!”

The entire room fell silent and all eyes, ears, antennae, and other primary sensory organs were now directed at the OooOkt.

He didn’t care.

“Now listen,” he said more quietly as he turned away from the group, “Kabl17t… Is he young and vital?… I don’t care just answer the question… Does he have a gun?… Great… You can bring him too… Look… SHUT… shut up and listen... if he actually cares about you, has a weapon, and knows how to use it he’s my best friend in the whole galaxy right now… Get him and then go immediately to the creche and grab our spawn, even the stupid one… There is no time! Start moving… Quite literally the end of the world… shut up and start moving! I’ll explain once you are in motion… We don’t… fine… I’ve known for a while and haven’t decided what I was going to do about it, he passed the security screening I had illegally run on him so I wasn’t worried about you, my property, or most importantly my spawn, and to be perfectly honest I’m in no position to condemn you… I honestly don’t think you are in any position to condemn me either and this is NOT the time!… Yes, mistakes have been made but TRUST me the mistakes we are discussing are NOT my biggest concern right now. NO! Don’t break it off with him! You and the spawn are going to need him! Bring him! All I care about is my spawn. You and I can divide whatever we can salvage or we can stay together and introduce our lovers. Maybe they will hit it off… I… I love our spawn… Do you love our spawn?… That’s all I need to hear… We will figure out the rest once I get all of you safe… Now get a stylus...”

The floodgates opened…

The room went from stunned stupor to a frenzy of activity as everyone started desperately calling everyone from family to brokers to bankers…

Most called family.

Nemat looked over at Una.

“E-excuse me.”

Una simply nodded.

Nemat rushed over to a corner and pulled out a tablet.

The door opened and the room fell silent as Olvann-Ulk, the chief legal counsel for the Federation entered along with two Threen security guards.

“Gentlebeings,” he said grimly, “Thank you for waiting.”

He paused.

“I do have some information for those who have signed what we are unofficially calling ‘The Baleelan Contract’, however...”

He glared at Councilor Una.

“This briefing is solely for those affected. Councilor Una, would you please depart.”

The room gasped.

“U-Una?” Nemat asked, his voice rattling.

Una set her tiny jaw, her three eyes hard.

“Sorry, Nemat,” she said as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a cloth armband. “but my duty is to my people.”

She slid the red armband, embroidered with a gold hammer and sickle up her little arm.

She hopped off the window ledge and glided to the floor as everyone in the room glared at her.

Nemat let out a shuddering hiss. It all made sense now! She was the one who “broke” first, setting everything into motion...

Una was working with them the whole time!

”You betrayed us!” Nemat shouted. ”I trusted you!”

“No, Nemat,” Una replied with a tiny little sigh, “You trusted the power you had over us. I had an opportunity to secure a fate different than yours and I took it. You would have done the same.”

Una narrowed her eyes.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this, Nemat,” she said, “But you and everyone in this room are the ones ultimately responsible for what happened, and everything that will follow.”

“And what will you do now?” Nemat demanded, “Without us you have nothing!”

Una made a tiny snort.

“Thank you, Nemat,” she said with a little smirk, “I was feeling really badly about what is about to happen to you. You just reminded me why I had to do what I did. Good-bye, Nemat.”

Raising herself to her full diminutive height, Una strode from the room.

Olvann-Ulk glared at the tiny Javv as she walked away, one of his guards opening the door for her.

Once she left, he turned back to the room.

“I know you all have significant concerns about the agreements you all signed and the manner in which they were presented,” the old Kreneel said. “We have carefully reviewed the situation and, regrettably, both the agreement and the manner in which it was signed are, in fact, valid and the agreements are binding.”

The room exploded in anguished howls, screeches, buzzes, and screams.

“Please… Please...” the Kreneel said, trying to speak over the din. “I know you all have questions.”

“Questions?!?” Nemat shouted. “Questions?!? How can this be legal? This isn’t an agreement! This is extortion and… and…” he spluttered, “There is no way any of us could sign away our sovereignty, our entire species like this!”

Olvann-Ulk sighed.

“I would like to remind everyone here that the ultimate responsibility for the terms in a trade agreement lies with the parties signing that agreement. Regardless of how it is presented, everyone has the duty to review what they sign and the ultimate decision whether or not to sign lies with the person holding the sigil. None of you were illegally compelled to sign. All of you could have refused.”

“We didn’t have a choice!” a small reptilian screeched, “We faced the loss of over seventy percent of our food supply!”

“The responsibility for structuring your economies also lies with the member systems, not the Federation nor any of your trading partners. While it is regrettable that you found yourself in that position that dynamic is one that was created by your people.”

The room once again broke out in shouting.

“Gentlebeings!” Olvann-Ulk shouted. “Decorum! Please!”

“How can you stand there calling for Decorum?” a large amphibian-like being shouted, “This so called ‘agreement’ is nothing less than criminal! It is without precedent or foundation! It is impossible for the things within it to be remotely within the scope of a trade agreement! This is… This is an unconditional surrender We didn’t even do this to the planets we conquered!”

The room shouted in agreement.

“Actually,” Olvann-Ulk said grimly, “all of it has legal precedent. The individual clauses have never been assembled in one document before nor have the exact terms ever been this… severe… but all of it is firmly grounded in Federation trade law and all of it has very well established precedents.”

“Lies!” Nemat screamed, “Tell me, where does compelling us to institute laws over our citizens in direct violation of our own constitution have precedent!”

“I think some of your associates in this room can answer that for you,” the Kreneel replied, “It has been done shortly after first-contact during initial negotiations and happens quite often as a result of stewardship or management and in the enforcement of debt collections. I’m a bit frustrated, Nemat, considering you privately inquired about the possibilities of exactly what you are now protesting regarding your imminent action against the Baleel. In case you haven’t realized,” Olvann-Ulk said with a bit of irritation, “That very same push by your people is what set this whole chain of events into action.”

The room filled with angry, hateful noises as everyone turned to face Nemat.

“I will now share with all of you some of the… realities… behind the decisions that were made today,” Olvann-Ulk said as dispassionately as he could, “I do this so that you may all not waste what little precious time you have left nor risk your people’s welfare or very lives unnecessarily. Make no mistake,” he said firmly, “the situation in which you all find yourselves is dire and completely inescapable at this point. Please pay very careful attention.”

Olvann-Ulk took a deep breath and steeled himself.

“Our Federation is at its heart a trade association. Contracts between member species form the very structure of the systems that keep it intact. Trust in those agreements is essential to preserve the safety and stability of the Federation as a whole… Unfortunately, some of these agreements have been… less than equitable… especially at the expense of some of the newer or less advanced members. Nobody here can with any shred of honesty deny that.”

The Kreneel had to wait until yet another round of shouting died down.

“This has caused no small amount of resentment among the… less prosperous… members. The upheavals of the past few years starting with the Republic war, the increased mandatory defense contributions, and now the unfortunate situation with the humans have pushed many of them to the breaking point. This has created a… delicate situation… where many systems are beginning to become increasingly dissatisfied with the Federation as a whole. Among those are the Baleel, the Loo, the Rill, the Yuii, and the Besl, the founding ‘committee’ of what is called the ‘Communalist Party’. This party, most notably the Baleel, were the ones behind the successful legal argument that allowed the breaking of over one hundred different trade agreements and counting.”

Olvann-Ulk glanced down at his tablet.

“They were initially discounted as yet another ‘club’, like so many of the small caucuses and cliques that are born and die every week… However… They have recently come under increasing scrutiny as their platform and rhetoric has become increasingly… unusual… They style themselves as ‘communalist’ or even ‘communist’ but they are neither...”

Olvann-Ulk clicked his beak angrily.

“They are in fact, anarchists! They have no desire to ‘free’ anyone. They seek to attack the Federation, the entity that they blame for their misfortunes. And that, gentlebeings, is what this ‘Baleean Contract’ is, an attack.”

“Of course it is!” the OooOkt councilor yelled, looking up from the tablet he had been furiously fiddling with for the first time, “Look at what they are doing to us!”

“You are mistaken,” Olvann-Ulk replied, “It isn’t an attack against you. You are all completely irrelevant to them. Once they were able to break the unfavorable contracts with you, they were done with you. They have no desire to feed any of you, at any price. They would actually prefer if you were the ‘first of us to fall’.”

There was no shouting this time, only shocked muttering.

“There have also been more serious accusations concerning this ‘committee’ and you will no doubt hear of them if you haven’t already,” Olvann-Ulk said, “I cannot comment on this further than a full investigation is being undertaken and all of them are under very close scrutiny. No charges are pending at this time but if anything comes to light you can be assured that we will pursue any and all relevant crimes to the fullest extent of the law. These people are dangerous, however, we must follow due process, especially during these sensitive times. However, I must inform all of you that even if those accusations are entirely true it in no way changes the validity of the contracts that you all signed on behalf of your systems. Even if the agreements were signed with traitors, the agreements are not in and of themselves treasonous and both law and precedent are quite clear that a councilor, even if guilty of other crimes, can still represent their people until arrest as long as those agreements aren’t directly connected to a crime. The breaking of your original contracts is, sadly, valid and the agreements that you signed as a result of that are also valid.”

Olvann-Ulk flicked his finger across his tablet scrolling the screen.

“Concerning the ‘attack’ I mentioned previously,” he said seething with anger, “It wasn’t directed at you, it was directed at the Federation itself. There is reason why the agreements are so long and why sometimes several clauses were used where one would have been sufficient if ‘more efficiently’ written… Very very little in the ‘Baleean contract’ is original. In fact, the vast majority of it as been cut and pasted word for word from millions of trade agreements gentlebeings… millions… Somehow they were able to examine every single trade agreement since the founding of the Federation and selected the clauses that have the most relevance, the ones forming the backbone of some of the largest and most important agreements that are currently in effect. In other cases, the clauses are ones that could be considered the most egregious or the ones that most often affect ‘their people’ as if they truly have any. Others are the ones most used by the most… influential… species. Other clauses are at the very heart of stewardship, bankruptcy, and management practices of those systems who require the most support...”

Olvann-Ulk made a growling hiss despite himself.

“They were counting on one of you using… undue influence… to get the entire contract declared invalid. Had that happened, it would have opened up hundreds of thousands of agreements to legal attack, overwhelming the courts, and further destabilizing the Federation as a whole including foundational agreements tied to the very maintenance of the Federation itself. The Baleel and the others have already assembled substantial legal resources and intend upon using the additional resources they… obtain… from your systems to further increase their capacity. Any clause that we toss out of this agreement will expose numerous, far more… essential… agreements to their legal mercenaries. Quite simply put, the Federation had to choose between honoring the principles upon which it operates and continues to operate or make a dangerous exception that jeopardizes countless far more rational agreements, ones necessary to keep the Federation stable during these times.”

“You mean we are just going to be ‘sacrificed’?!?” someone yelled.

“In one word,” Olvann-Ulk said dispassionately, “yes. Half a dozen systems who voluntarily entered into ruinous agreements under their own free will versus the entire Federation and the faith in the principles and institutions it upholds? I’m sorry, gentlebeings. Besides, many of these clauses are copied directly from the agreements you imposed on the ‘committee’. As Councilor Una said, you brought this upon yourselves.”

The room erupted into screams and shouting that continued until one of the guards fired his blaster into the air.

“I am unsure if you have had time to fully review what you have signed,” Olvann-Ulk said grimly, “We have taken the liberty of summarizing conditions under which you will now have to operate and the timelines under which those changes will take place. I must caution you. Buried in all of those thousands of pages are some very unpleasant consequences should any of you threaten or engage in hostilities and should any of the committee happen to die for any reason their funeral celebrations and memorial funds are some of the worst individual clauses in this entire document. Millions of your people will likely die as a result of the mourning of period that will involving a shipping holiday. Pray for their continued health. I cannot stress this enough. In addition the Kalent have issued a statement saying that they will not countenance another civil war at this time. Any attempt at fighting your way out of this will not succeed and will only result in you getting starved into submission.”

“What are we going to do?!?” someone howled.

“My recommendation is to try to negotiate,” Olvann-Ulk replied, “We believe they were counting on the contract getting thrown out, not actually administrating your systems. Maybe try to work something out with them? Remember, that ‘inability to pay’ works both ways. You have lawyers as well use them. However, once again, I must stress that this ‘battle’ is a legal and diplomatic one, at least for now. Any attempt to take it out of that arena has been anticipated by your ‘foes’ and both that and the overall situation in the Federation means that the Federation itself would be disinclined to allow another armed conflict to break out. The Kalent were quite clear about this.”

Olvann-Ulk put his tablet back into the carrier in his robes.

“May the creators and whatever Gods that may exist protect you in the days to come.”

Olvann-Ulk sighed and exited the silent room.

***

The Gvortan ambassador sat in front of his monitor with wide horrified eyes.

And long did Father of the Baleel slumber. When he awoke he said, "I guess we should kill them."

And thus the sentence was passed. The Devourer and all of his children were condemned to death. Greatly were the people of the Devouring one perplexed, for death came upon them silently and they were unaware of its approach until the strength bled from their limbs and their children perished in the arms of their mothers, their mothers perishing in the arms of their husbands.

The Devourer commanded great sacrifices to their Gods to try to gain their aid but no aid could save them. Many Baleel were slaughtered on the altars of the obscene ones but they perished rejoicing in their hearts for they knew that even though they would die, so too would the ones who had enslaved them and dined on their flesh and delighted in their suffering.

One by one all of the Devourer’s children died, wailing helplessly in the night, never knowing how they were defeated. One by one they died and the Baleel cast off their yokes and wandered the broad streets of the dark ones, delighting in the feel and taste of the rotting flesh of their dominators as their juices spilled from their bloating and rotting bodies.

One by one all of the monuments, temples, and even the dwellings of the Children of the Devourer were pulled down, the very stones cast into the mire, never to be touched again. One by one all of their cities were pulled down, their ornaments melted and shaped into shiny fun sparkly things for the Children of the Baleel to wear in their fun new hats.

One by one even the stones of the roads laid by the children of the Baleel were pulled up and cast into the mire so that no trace of the Devourer nor his children remained.

Then the Father of the Baleel proclaimed, “That was unpleasant. Glad that’s over,” and there was much agreement. Then, as the last stone of the last road was cast into the mire, everyone had a nice lunch.

He looked at the time and tried calling Nemat for yet another time, once again going straight to voicemail.

“Has anyone heard from Nemat yet?” he yelled.

***

Nemat looked out over the capital city from the abandoned observation deck atop the parliament building.

He loved coming up here before it became too unsafe, before the madness that threatened to consume everything.

He pulled out his phone and opened the photo gallery, bringing up a picture of his family.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he pulled a blaster out of his coat pocket, “It’s all my fault...”

***

Karashel sat in her office sipping a cup of tea.

“Appreciate you trying to get in there, anyhow,” Karashel said to Una who was perched on the back of her chair.

“Yeah,” Una sighed. “No problem.”

“Oh!” Karashel said brightly, “Because you asked I did a little checking. We do have some excess available and can sell the Illipp enough to at least keep the devourer from visiting for a little bit. If they are as ‘nice’, or at least as useful, as you claim, we may even be able to scrape enough between the rest of the committee to give them an actual agreement… provided they are receptive to our principles, of course. Have the Illippean councilor reach out. I would be happy to meet with them.”

“Thank you,” Una replied quietly

“Are you ok?” Karashel asked, “Something bothering you?”

“Not really,” Una replied, “I understand why you, why we did what we did. You didn’t have a choice. It’s just that… How are we any different than they were? If anything, we are worse.”

“One very significant difference,” Karashel replied, “Is that we are now on top and they are on the bottom.”

“You are on top,” Una replied, “I’m still exactly where I started. I just changed masters.”

“Not true, Una,” Karashel replied, “The Javv are going to prosper greatly and with that prosperity you will be able to start on the very same path that we are starting. Once we reach post scarcity there will be no ‘top’ and no ‘bottom’, not just for us but for everyone. I’ve seen it! The Xx have it right now. We can too!... It’s just that we are going to have to… make some sacrifices… to get there. At least this way those ‘sacrifices’ will neither be the Javv or the Baleel. We have others, others that deserve it to serve that function… and will only gain more as time passes. With enough resources, we will be able to achieve our goal and the entire galaxy will benefit. Trillions upon trillions of beings will prosper because of what we do today. Never forget that.”

“In our history,” Una replied, “there were some people that sounded exactly like you do right now.”

“Oh?” Karashel replied, “Tell me about them...”