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Grass Eaters 2 | 2 | Not Dangerous
🕑 Added 2024-05-20 16:47:01 +0000 UTCFifth Fleet Supply HQ, Malgeiru-3
POV: Cliggi, Malgeir Federation Navy (Rank: Alpha Leader)
Cliggi's paws danced with a mechanical indifference on the cold surface of his tablet, lost in the sea of endless notifications as he nudged open the door to his office lobby with his shoulder. The soft hum of the ceiling lights greeted him, intermingling with the familiar, floral notes of his aide's perfume— tainted by an underlying, unidentifiable odor.
As he looked up, he saw a flustered expression on her face. “Alpha Leader!” she almost panted. “There’s a guest in your office.”
Cliggi blinked, caught off guard. “Guest? I thought I was done for the day.”
“She insisted on waiting for you,” his aide responded, her voice tinged with unease. “I couldn’t stop her!”
“Couldn’t stop her?” His brow furrowed in bewilderment. “Why didn’t you just call Fleet Security—”
“Well—”
“We haven’t paid them this cycle.”
“Not yet,” she said abashedly. “And the guest didn’t seem dangerous.”
“Alright then.” Cliggi straightened his uniform with a claw, approaching his office. “Let’s go see what’s so urgent someone needs to barge into my office.”
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open. The room was awash in the late afternoon light filtering through the large windows, painting everything in a warm hue.
An athletic young female with distinctive silver fur sat in her seat, her relaxed posture a display of confidence and grace, washing away half of his preconceived hostility. “Cliggi,” she greeted, her voice silky and melodic. “Nice big office you have here.”
He racked his brain trying to place her in his memories, but drew a blank. “Do we know each other?” he asked cautiously, taking a few measured steps closer.
She grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. “You are Cliggi, Supply Officer of the Navy Fifth Fleet, are you not?”
“I am, ma’am,” he responded with due politeness, his words flowing with practiced ease, “Head of Fifth Fleet Requisitions and Logistics. And you are?”
“Eupprio,” she acknowledged with a nod. “Head of… Eupprio Tech.” She fished a red business card out of her pocket, handing it to him.
Cliggi's posture straightened as he clutched the card. He’d heard her name whispered in the bureaucratic hallway offices of Malgeiru, usually by people with higher rank than his own. Interesting.
“Ah, pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve heard of your company. My impression was that you’re in the financial sector?”
“Straight to business?” she chuckled lightly. “That’s fine. You would be right… a few months ago. We are making a foray into computing and communications, specifically in defense applications. Pure exploratory, for now, but we’d like to stay.”
“I see,” he replied, his eagerness barely concealed. “I don’t blame you. It’s a lucrative field, and you’re in the right place. Lots of new contracts opening up recently in Fifth Fleet. Is there— uh a specific opportunity you’re looking in?”
“As a matter of fact, there are a few we’re looking into with your fleet.”
Cliggi nodded knowingly as he set his datapad on his office table. “Which ones? We can go over the requirements—”
“Oathkeeper.”
As Cliggi registered the word, his body went rigid, an instinctive reaction he quickly subdued. He nonchalantly said, “That’s… uh, ma’am, as you know there are certain projects that I can’t discuss with—”
“You can call me Eupprio. And don’t worry,” she interjected reassuringly. “I’ve been read in.”
His eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. “You have Oathkeeper clearance? I wasn’t aware they were being given out to civilians, much less being on the gray market already.”
“It’s not. I didn’t buy mine,” she clarified. “Not that I didn’t try, but you Navy people seemed so serious about this one. Had to go all the way to a fleet commander to get me one.”
Delving into her pocket once more, she produced a lanyard adorned with a jet-black card with no identifying markings. Accepting it suspiciously, Cliggi strode to a safe tucked away in a corner of his office. After punching in a five-digit code, he extracted a bulky, non-regulation card scanner. It instantly recognized her card, emitting a confirmatory beep and displaying her photo on the small screen next to it.
Returning the card, a flicker of amazement danced in Cliggi’s eyes. “So you are privy to the details then. That is a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Which contracts in Project Oathkeeper are you interested in? There’s one open with a laser comm integration module—”
“All of them.”
“Excuse me?” he queried, unsure if he heard correctly.
“We want all of them. We’re prepared to make a significant investment in your fleet.”
“Ma’am,” he started to explain as respectfully as he could. “We—”
“Please… call me Eupprio.”
“Eupprio, there’s a standard bidding process for these contracts—”
“We are aware,” she replied patiently. “You will be sufficiently compensated for making the appropriate arrangements. I take good care of my people.”
“That’s very generous of you,” he acknowledged. “But we didn’t make these rules; they’re imposed by our sponsors, and the auditing requirements and organization… well, they’re not as flexible as we are accustomed to. The maximum sole-sourced contract limit is just under a hundred billion credits… of the Oathkeeper variety.”
“Only a hundred billion?”
“You know the Oathkeepers. They’re newer… not as wealthy as our people.”
“And there is no bend on that?” she pressed. “We can pay.”
“None,” he replied, a tinge of regret in his voice. Lowering his voice, he continued, “Another professional services firm out of Bostruisa tried to fool their… auditors with a complex scheme of multiple shuffling subsidiaries, but they were caught immediately and banned from making bids on Project Oathkeeper contracts for five years. No one fools the sponsors.”
“I see.” Eupprio sat back in thought. After a brief pause, she declared, “A hundred billion credits would make a nice start for us. We’ll take the fleet-wide pylon retrofits and the other one… what was it, the sensor package upgrade.”
Cliggi’s heart sank. Those two contracts were the crown jewels of the entire project. “We can discuss the introduction price on the pylons, but I can’t give you sensors. I’ve already promised it to another bidder.”
“Which bidder? We can make it worth their while too.”
He shook his head, a mix of resolve and regret in his gesture. “Fintint Services. Even if you could pay me more than them, it is a matter of personal pride and honor.”
“Ah, those assholes. You’re right that we probably can’t pay more than they can,” she conceded with a hint of reluctance.
“Thank you for understanding my—”
“But you will agree to give us the sensors contract nonetheless,” Eupprio interjected, a dangerous flash in her eyes.
“Ma’am—”
“Call me Eupprio,” Eupprio said automatically. She deftly steered the conversation to another subject. “Alpha Leader, why don’t we discuss your service for a minute?”
“My service?” he asked, visibly bewildered by the abrupt change in topic.
“Your service. After all, it’s a little unusual for someone to make alpha leader at the young age of forty-two, is it not? Head Supply Officer of a numbered battle fleet too, perfectly situated for financial opportunities; such a position is not easily given out in wartime. Not unless they had a rare reward for gallantry and courage in combat, say… a Star of Valor.”
“Ma’am— Eupprio—”
Eupprio stood up, slowly pacing the room, before arriving at a glass display framing a golden star medallion centered among his many trophies. “It’s this one, right? Beautiful. What was it for again? Above and beyond the call of duty at Pomniot, was it?”
Cliggi could feel the urge to pant, despite knowing it was a cool five degrees below room temperature in his office.
“I’m no naval expert,” she continued, her gaze fixed on her datapad. “The reports from the battle undoubtedly paint a heroic picture, though. Two Delta-class warships against six Znosian ships of the same tonnage: system defended and all enemies destroyed. Unfortunately, the other ship perished, and the sensor readings from her black box were apparently corrupted due to heavy battle damage. Completely unrecoverable, unless… you had the resources of a state-of-the-art financials technology firm that specializes in forensics, fraud and tampering detection, and data redundancy.”
Cliggi went white as the Malgeiru star.
Eupprio glanced up, a feigned bewilderment in her eyes. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. No Znosian ships. Instead, a friend-or-foe identification system malfunction leading to her being fired upon by a friendly ship. That can’t be right! After all, all of Gamma Leader Cliggi’s subordinates corroborated his account of the events in their own reports, almost word for word.”
“Sensor malfunctions occur all the time, especially when recording to those old black boxes,” Cliggi explained, his voice laced with desperation.
“Of course, of course. They do. All the time. Equipment failure: airtight defense for a Navy officer. And if I brought my sizable credits account to any member of your bridge crew, surely none of them would change their accounting of the battle—”
“You haven’t!” Cliggi half-whispered, the fur on his spine bristling.
Eupprio politely waited a moment for him to recover from the breach in decorum. “No, I haven’t. Not yet. Because you’re going to do the right thing for us on this sensors upgrade contract. After all… this is as you say, a matter of personal pride and honor, is it not?”
For a tense minute, Cliggi met her gaze. He blinked first. Bowing in defeat, he said, “Of course, ma’am— Eupprio.”
“I hope that wouldn’t cause you any trouble with the grass-counters at Fintint,” she said sympathetically.
“Not at all. Not at all.”
“In any case, you will be adequately compensated for your hard work,” Eupprio said. She tapped her credit chip against her datapad, a crisp beep echoing in the office.
Cliggi’s datapad chimed in response. His eyes widened at the screen, a mix of shock and reluctant gratitude. “That is… incredibly generous, given— given the circumstances.”
She shook her ears, and replied in a softer voice, “Like I said, I take good care of my people.”
---
Oathkeeper-0, Malgeiru (1,500 Ls)
POV: Eupprio, Malgeir (Civilian)
Eupprio gazed upon the modest-looking alien ship hanging in space just off her shuttle’s bow.
Her trusty lawyer and friend, Fleguipu, cast a semi-derisive glance at the tiny craft. “It’s a wonder these Terrans can afford all these expensive, highly technical projects but not bigger ships for an outpost here.”
She countered her friend’s skepticism with a shake of her head. “One day, lawyer, you’ll realize that it’s not the size that matters, but rather how you use it.”
Fleguipu guffawed. “Is that what they say?”
“Yes,” Eupprio grinned merrily back at her. “And it works to our advantage. They are not used to working on our big ships, which is why they need to give out these contracts.”
“You really think it’s such a great idea to pivot to the defense sector? We were doing quite well in finances and some of the market analysts are saying—”
“Bah,” Eupprio cut her off with a snort, dismissive and confident. “We’ve gone over this. The money will take care of itself. We may know nothing about the subject, but we can acquire people and companies that do. We’re flush with cash and have nowhere else to invest it anyway. And besides, we have that one thing nobody else has, and this finally gives us legal cover to deploy it. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Her friend's nod came reluctantly. “The digital sentience. Of course, it would have been easier to lobby for legalization for non-defense use… But I guess this is one silver lining.”
“Besides,” Eupprio said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “I hear the Terrans have great food.”
“You’re kidding. They’re Grass Eaters.”
“That’s what I hear anyway… and wouldn’t that be something?”
There was a rumble in the hull, and the shuttle pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. “We’ve established a connection with them. They’re sending a team to board us.”
“Got it,” Eupprio replied, her tone businesslike. “Heading to the airlock.”
---
Eupprio and her entourage clustered around the airlock as it cycled. The Terran boarding party, a dozen figures clad in armor that gleamed like polished obsidian, filed into their vessel with military precision. Their movements swift, they quickly swept the interiors of the ship, leaving only two of them to watch the crew.
The squad leader held a scanner extended in her outstretched hands, addressing Eupprio directly. “Your Oathkeeper clearance, ma’am?”
Eupprio took out her card and slid it smoothly into the waiting device. It beeped twice, confirming her identity.
“You are Eupprio, CEO of Eupprio Tech?” the squad leader asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry, this will only sting a bit,” the Terran warned, brandishing a second scanner towards Eupprio's paw.
Eupprio opened her snout to question the device's purpose, but a gentle whirring on her paw precluded her inquiry. It didn’t really hurt, and she watched, fascinated, as the pinprick on her fur began to seal itself almost immediately.
The leader nodded in approval, while Eupprio noted the second guard easing his grip on the ready rifle at his hip.
“Sorry for the inconvenience and the old tech, but we have to match your identity to when you got the card,” the squad leader explained.
Eupprio raised an eyebrow. “You guys take these security measures really seriously, huh?”
“What do you mean?” the squad leader asked. “Are you saying you guys don’t do tests for deep impersonation—”
Her question was interrupted by one of the other Terrans who’d noiselessly appeared behind her. “LT, their shuttle’s clean.”
“Good, we’ll park it here then,” the leader turned towards the pilot. “Keep its orbit at least fifty kilometers away from our ship or we’ll be forced to… move… it while you’re not here.”
Her gaze shifted back to Eupprio. “Your team can board our shuttle. It’ll be a few days flight, so bring whatever you need, except: no weapons, no personal FTL radios, and no liquid containers greater than one hundred milliliters of volume.”
What an odd set of rules.
---
Meta
Cheap liquid/gel explosive scanners do exist now.
The rule’s just been there for almost 120 years, nobody knows why, and everyone is just too scared to change it.
Comments
Desurtfawks
Space TSA. God damnit, cant have shit. No i dont want to buy your hundred dollar water bottles. What do you mean they are a thousand dollars now? 😭😭😭
Valdis Trautmanis
I knew it the moment Speinfoent gave Eupprio the reports to analyse. Now she effectively has the entire Malgeri navy by the balls, she can blackmail almost anyone. With her being also on board with the Terrans I can see her firm becoming Malgeir's version of Raytech before the war is over
ColonelCodfish
It will take nothing short of God himself to destroy the TSA.
Gregoire Brougher
The soft hum of the ceiling lights of the ceiling lights greeted him
Gregoire Brougher
a little typo i noticed
