Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter 197: Oh no...

Becky (Wherever you go, there is always a Becky. This one is one of Gwen's "glee squad") sprinted down the corridor towards a section of the ship she REALLY didn't want to be in right now.

Rounding the corner, she saw Vee, with her puppy clinging to her back and a toy spaceship in hand, standing on tip-toe and repeatedly mashing a door control panel with a frown on her face.

"Vee!" Becky exclaimed in alarm.

"Door's broke," Vee said unhappily.

"It's not broken, sweetie," Becky said as she reached Vee and started ushering her down the corridor, "It's locked."

"Why?"

"Because we always lock the corridor to Gwen's room when we jump," Becky said as she picked up the pace, almost dragging Vee along. "you know that."

"But I want to play spaceship!" Vee exclaimed petulantly.

"I'll play spaceship with you," Becky said with a forced smile as she hurriedly rounded a corner.

"You don't do it right."

"Well, you will just have to wait until Gwen comes out, then."

"Why?"

"Um..." Becky replied uncertainly, "hyperspace is Gwen's alone time, and we need to respect that."

"The whole jump?"

"Yes," Becky said firmly, "the whole jump. We've covered this before, Vee. It's a ship's rule, and you can't break those, understand?"

"But doesn't she get lonely?"

"Um..." Becky winced, "I'm sure she's just fine."

***

Surrounded by swirling and boiling impossible colors and shapes, an unidentifiable mass of flesh writhed on a bed, arms and legs sticking out in random places, huge chunks disappearing and reappearing randomly.

Squeals of pleasure and wild howls echoed through the chamber…

… and screaming… lots of screaming…

The entire mass shuddered violently, and Gwen's face appeared in the middle of one of the gaping holes in the sponge-like mass.

As she emerged, leaving behind a creature that one might be able to identify as a Palg (or at least something that might be in one of their horror movies) behind, she rolled on her side and embraced it.

It hugged back.

"Now that was better than the teddy bear!"

The creature hugged her back, emitting a low keening sound as its eyes glowed…

… and screams still echoed through the chamber.

Gwen smiled. The sounds and shapes the screaming made as it ripped through hyperspace were quite pretty.

"Better get comfortable, screamy," she chuckled as she and the creature kissed, their eyes blazing intensely. "This jump is going to take four days."

***

Jessica Morgan sat in front of her wall of screens, each displaying a different face.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly as she sipped from her priceless ancient Corelle teacup.

A chorus of greetings filled the room.

"Now we have a lot of information to cover today," Jessica said, "and while it is normally the case with all of these briefings, the information covered today is of an especially confidential nature."

"Then what the fuck am I doing here?" Helena Stirling demanded.

"Because, while you are quite the darling little gadfly," Jessica Morgan replied, "you have more sense than many in this room. You won't betray your people to the Federation. There is another reason that will become clear very soon."

Jessica Morgan sipped her tea.

"By the way," Jessica said with a smile, "you got balls suiting up and going to the red zones. Not a lot of people would do that."

"You go where the story is," Helena shrugged, "and 'the story' sure as Hell wasn't up there in the homestead ships unless you want to hear about a darling little girl who misses Bunny Crunch and thinks that the new 'PE classes' are a bunch more fun than the old ones again."

"I loved that story!" Sebastian Morgan enthused, "it really put a 'human' face on us, made us relatable to a good 83% of the Federation species!"

"Well, I'm glad the propaganda goons approve of my fine work," Helena snarked, "It makes it all worthwhile."

"And on a personal note," Sebastian snickered, "The interview with her mother was hilarious!"

The room broke out into chuckles, even Jessica. Helena grinned wickedly.

"I've wanted to get my hooks into that bitch for a while," she said with malicious satisfaction.

"Huh?"

"Long story," Helena replied.

"Hey, Helena," Sebastian said after a moment.

"No."

"You could do a lot of good, you know," Sebastian said.

"I would rather sit on a pinecone," Helena replied, "than write a piece extolling the virtues of fucking Gwen Shay, calling her a 'hero of the Forsaken'! The woman was pure trash, a monster, the worst of—"

Her voice trailed off as the room broke out in laughter.

"Oh, shit..." Helena said as she realized that all of the heads of the other houses were on that very same call. "I mean… I didn't know her… I'm sure she was… I mean, I'm sure she could be…" (Even Helena has her limits.)

"No," A woman with an ornate skull painted on her face laughed, "you report facts, and those are the facts. Gwen was awful!. Remember the time with the babies?"

The room burst into laughter again.

"Break out the grills and pass out the pills!" a man wearing a long leather coat and cutlass yelled.

"It's party time!" the group yelled in reply.

Jessica smiled and sipped her tea as valuable time was wasted as the group shared tales about Gwen.

She shook her head.

She was awful, but you had to admit the crazy bitch had style, just like her namesake.

Helena sat there, wide-eyed, as the stories flowed.

"She… She really did that?!?" she gasped in horror.

"My men and I were right there," a woman in an expensive suit smirked, "kind of hard to miss that. Hey, give me a call after this, and I will tell you about the real Gwen Shay, not that cotton candy fluff propaganda is doling out. A proper bitch deserves a proper memorial."

Helena was pelted with the contact information of most of the heads of the houses of the Confederacy of Sol!!!

"Um… General..." Sebastian Morgan said nervously, "I'm not sure that's the best idea." Jessica shrugged.

"We need outlaws as well as we need heroes," Jessica replied, "and nobody is going to believe that Gwen Shay was a good person. She was an animal, especially back during the Wars. You know what, Helena, call me too. I have a few stories about that bitch that might not have seen the light of day before."

Helena just nodded and vibrated with excitement. There are exclusives, and there are exclusives…

… and then there is what just fell into her lap!

"Don't remind me," an old naval officer chuckled, "she was completely unmanageable, as crazy as she was beautiful."

"She was beautiful?" Helena asked in surprise.

The room agreed in unison.

"Absolutely stunning," the naval officer replied. "Pity she was irredeemably insane and tended to eat her lovers."

"No wonder," a silver-haired woman wearing a lab coat emblazoned with medals. "Do you remember when we first brought her in? She was a walking prion! I've never seen a case as bad as hers. Zombies had better dietary habits."

"I wonder if prion disease can be inherited," an old Marine mused, "It would explain that whole fucked-up family. All of them were nuts."

Jessica froze, all color draining from her face.

No… nonononononononono….

"Sure it can," the woman in the lab coat replied, "There are several cases of prion-triggered genetic mutation. In fact, it was the cause of several very serious diseases earlier in our history. It an autosomal..."

The sound just faded to a faint buzzing as Jessica sat there, stunned.

No…

It made too much sense. Marakovich and his crew were smaller but every bit as bad as the Angels when it came to 'supplementing' their diets, and the other void gazers were from the most vicious of raider gangs.

She started quickly typing and frantically flicking her mouse back and forth…

All of them were treated for prion diseases, in many cases multiple ones…

...but one strain stood out even at first glance, Unk-88-9. It was never clearly identified or cataloged. They had much more pressing concerns at the time, and it responded to standard treatment protocols…

Or so they thought…

It was so obvious! Why hadn't they seen it?

Because you all didn't want to. Jessica twitched. The 'future of humanity' may just be based on some of the most deplorable practices imaginable. If that's the case, then what will that future be?

They all crave "meat" sooner or later...

An icy dread started to take hold.

"General… General?..."

"Morgan!" someone shouted in that special tone that would get anyone in the military's immediate attention for the rest of their life.

"Wha?" Jessica said, returning to the somewhat less horrible real world.

"Are we going to start this meeting or what?"

"Yeah," Jessica said foggily as she, slightly shaking, rose, "Something has come up. We have to reschedule."

"Reschedule this briefing?" someone wearing a Morgan Securities blazer said in disbelief, "You realize we are discussing the Argent data, right?"

"Then discuss it!" Jessica snapped, "Jesus, fuck! Do I have to hold your hands the whole goddamn time?"

With that, Jessica fled the room, slamming the door behind her.

Terrence smiled a thin smile, nodded to the group, and followed.

"Well, it lasted longer than I thought it would," an old man shrugged.

"What?" someone else replied.

"'Fearless Leader' staying on the wagon," the old man smirked.

"No," an old general said gravely, "I've known her since the beginning. She wasn't on anything. It's worse."

"What is it?"

"She said the God's honest truth," the old general said grimly, "Something else has happened that made her nearly piss herself. I've never seen her look like that, ever, not even when the Terrans made it to the noncombatant stations."

"W-what do we do?" Sebastian Morgan asked in fear.

"We do our jobs." the old general said. "We go over this data, try to find… something… and you try to put a positive spin on us getting our asses handed to us. That is what we are going to do. Welcome to the grown-up's table, Golden Boy."

"Am I still supposed to be in here?" Helena asked, completely confused.

"I have no fucking idea, the General replied," Jessica obviously brought you here for some reason but damned if I know what it is. Just… just stick around, and maybe we'll find out. Jessica usually has reasons for what she does… usually..."

***

Jessica burst into her room and rushed to a mirror, breaking it.

Behind it was a safe.

Her hand trembling slightly, she started to reach for the keypad.

The door to her room unlocked and opened, revealing Terrence.

"Terrence!" she exclaimed.

Terrence entered the room, closing and locking the door.

He pulled out an artfully engraved cigarette case.

"Ma'am," Terrence replied with an even voice, "may I offer you this instead?"

He opened the case to reveal some expertly rolled joints.

Jessica took a joint and, between trembling fingers, lit it, drawing heavily.

"You know, don't you?" she asked when she finally inhaled.

"I have the same suspicion as you," he said, "why else would I be handing you that?

Jessica took another long toke and then offered it to Terrence, who nodded primly and took it.

***

"Do we know for certain that all of them were infected?" Terrence asked as he lit another joint.

"Yeah," Jessica said as she lounged on the couch, looking at the ceiling. "Every single fucking one of them, and they all were infected by a (heh) get this, an ultra-rare ultra obscure strain that wasn't even named properly. How the fuck did we miss this? I tell you, Terrence, when I get straight, somebody's head is going to fucking roll!"

"If I may," he said as he accepted the joint, "it might be in your best interest to keep this to yourself, at least for now. These individuals are already suspect. If it is believed that they are directly connected to cannibalism, it will make things… problematic."

"Good point," Jessica said as she took the joint back. "Besides," Terrence said, "we don't even know if this is a real link or just another promising dead end. We don't know if this is the key to all this."

"Promising lead," Jessica snickered, "I could have used you back in the Sol Wars."

"I'll take that in the spirit it was intended," Terrence said dryly.

"And I know this is the link," Jessica said calmly, still looking at the ceiling, "Do you want to know why? Because that sick, twisted, demented Creator of this… fucked up galaxy would do something exactly like that…"

She took another toke.

"Well, I hope it at least finds all of this entertaining..." Jessica muttered as she raised the joint once again to her lips, "Shit," she said, extending the joint to Terrence. "Sorry, Terrence, I forgot that..."

She chuckled to see Terrence with his own freshly lit joint between his fingers.

"It's quite alright, ma'am," he said with a smile.

Jessica took another deep draw on her joint, nearly consuming it.

" Future of humanity..." she muttered. "God fucking dammit."

"Well," Terrence said calmly, "at least they won't go hungry."

Jessica burst into laughter.

"What the fuck are you?"

"I am whatever you require me to be," Terrence replied as he inhaled deeply.

***

Across the galaxy, surrounded by swirling colors and screams, Gwen and her new lover faced each other, inches apart, as Gwen took his hands in hers, guiding one of his to her waist.

Pleasant music, distorted by what passed for space-time there, and accompanied by anguished screams, filled the room.

"Now, this one we call a waltz," she said as she smiled sweetly.

***

Author's note: I've been called out by our favorite scientist concerning a little detail.

The existing prion diseases I referenced (and glanced briefly over when I checked if prion diseases could be inherited) result from mutations making prions, not prions making mutations.

There are no currently known prions that do that. If fact, it would be highly unlikely.

However, being a better bullshitter than a scientist, I replied that a prion could cause a change to the epigenome because literally anything can do that, so it's still "sci-fi plausible" AND preserves my story even with the research goof...

So it still could be (and come on, we all know it is) a major contributing factor to the void gazer's appearance.