Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter 117: Pam Sets the Hook

In a nearby dead system, the Paper Tiger slid out of hyperspace.

Sheila checked the scanners. They were alone.

She activated the mic.

"Traitor One to Traitor Two," she said with a smirk. "You here, Two?"

A petite human female appeared on the screen.

She scowled.

"Oh, it's you," she sneered. "How's the jaw, bitch?"

"Oh, hey!" Shelia laughed. "Mini-Minge! How's my favorite porkie whore doing these days?"

"The whole Federation is in flames," Beth replied, "my people are fighting and dying in the ash, and I'm stuck here playing chauffeur for Ambassador Winterfresh and his pack of hole-lickers! Life couldn't be fucking better!"

"How the fuck did you wind up bending over for Wintersmith?" Shelia smirked. "His dick that good?"

"Fuck the Cabal, and fuck you too!" Beth snarled.

"They're mixed up in this?" Shelia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're mixed up with him," Beth scowled. "His fuck-bunny is Cabal!"

"His fuck-bunny?"

"He's screwing a Xvli, and she's in elbow deep with the Cabal," Beth spat. "That's who drug my happy ass into this! I should be out there with the Devil and the houses kicking ass, but no! I'm stuck here because someone in the Xvli mafia is addicted to Terran cock!"

Shelia burst out laughing.

"Oh God, Beth!" Shelia gasped between guffaws. "I hope they are paying you double for this shit!"

"Oh, it's costing them more than that!" Beth replied. "This is fucking it. After this, I'm free and clear, and I'm keeping the ship!"

"And after we get rid of that bitch Patricia," Shelia said, reaching for a beer. "we can go back to hating each other as God intended."

"I still hate you," Beth scowled. "You Republic crab hostel."

Shelia raised her beer in a salute.

"Same at you," she smiled, "Federation boot-licker."

"I AM NOT A FUCKING FED!!!!!"

"Oh shit. Sorry," Shelia replied, genuinely abashed. "Considering everything that was really shitty. I'm terribly sorry… Commander." she grinned as she saluted.

Beth just sighed and hung her head.

"Just go to these coordinates..." Beth grumbled. "… bitch."

The transmission ended.

Shelia chuckled and looked over at Greg as she took a sip.

"Small galaxy, ain't it?" she grinned.

***

"So, how was your day?" Pam asked with a warm, friendly smile as Sheloran walked into her office.

"It was nice!" Sheloran replied as she plopped down on the padded cube. "I helped paint some orggs! It was really fun!"

"I never could get into that game, but it's huge over in the residential levels," Pam replied. "You thinking about getting a team together?"

"I think they are called legions," Sheloran replied. "I don't know, maybe," she said. "Zippo promised to let me read her manuals, but that was before she caught me helping Krista," Sheloran said. "She got really mad and called me a 'blueskin'!" she laughed. "I thought she was talking about me because I'm blue, but she was just mad because I was siding with the orggs!"

Pam just laughed.

"That's funny!" she replied. "Do you think Zippo will be a problem?" she asked with a wicked little smile.

"Oh no," Sheloran replied with a smile. "We already made up. I promised to help her paint some of her space legionaries, and we're good."

There were a few moments of silence as Pam looked at her thoughtfully.

"What?" Sheloran asked.

"You want to go on a little trip?" Pam smiled.

***

"I got your dispensary account all set up for you!" Pam said as she and Sheloran shared a tiny little electric vehicle, the windows completely blacked out.

"Thanks!" Sheloran beamed at her. Everyone was so nice here!

"Hey," Pam said. "Do you think you could sing for me? I would love to hear 'O Fortuna'!"

"Everybody asks me that," Sheloran replied. "I don't sing very well at all."

"What do you mean?" Pam asked. "I saw the video! You were awesome!"

"Oh..." Sheloran said, looking down. "That… That wasn't me… I mean, it was me, but it wasn't," she said quietly. "I can't really explain it, but it's like something came over me. I don't even really remember most of it."

Pam's head cocked slightly, and she smiled a little.

"I completely understand," she said ruefully. "a little too well, actually."

Sheloran looked over at her in surprise.

"You do?"

"Oh! We're here!" Pam said as the vehicle rolled to a stop. She pressed a glowing icon on the dash, and the doors opened.

Sheloran's eyes widened as she gasped in wonder.

Pam smiled at her warmly.

"This," she said with pride, "Is our hydroponics facility."

Sheloran stared at amazement at the vast open bay extending as far as the eye could see. There were plants covering the walls, hanging from the ceiling, growing in huge beds along the floor as water flowed over them, forming pretty little streams that flowed down channels along the floor (also crowded with plants).

It was… beautiful… It was almost as if the very walls were alive! Plants growing out of machines? It should be blasphemous, but it wasn't…

It was… It was…

She couldn't explain why but it appealed to her in a profound visceral way.

Sheloran, lost in something she really couldn't describe, wandered down the bay, gently caressing the plants.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It even smelled right. The plants, the oxygen-rich air, the nutrients in the water…

It was nice!… and the closest thing to home she had encountered since she fled.

A deep longing filled her. She wanted to go home so bad!

"Terran hydroponics," Pam said as Sheloran just took it all in. "We are known for steel and guns but what most people don't realize is that bio-science is the Republic's greatest strength," Pam said with genuine pride. "This facility is designed to be fully self-sufficient. We focus on fresh produce, herbs, and delicacies instead of staples, but by switching out a few crops, we can produce enough food to feed ourselves indefinitely before our onboard supplies run out. Our salad bar would suffer, though," Pam laughed.

"So this is why everything is so fresh!" Sheloran said in amazement.

"Most of what you enjoy is grown right here," Pam replied. "Ideal conditions plus a little gene magic means that our growing seasons are very, very short. They are constantly harvesting. Most of what you eat was picked that same day."

"Amazing!" Sheloran said as she knelt down and examined some tomatoes gently floating on the surface of a shallow fluid-filled basin. "I didn't know tomatoes grew in the water!"

"They don't," Pam laughed. "Or at least they didn't at first. Those are engineered. They grow so fast that they can't support themselves the way the normal ones do. They made a few little tweaks so they can just float like that without rotting. They work much easier in the beds that way."

Sheloran paused at an okra plant. She loved okra! So that's what it looks like!

"Help yourself!" Pam smiled.

Beaming up at her, Sheloran picked a pod from the plant and munched happily.

Then it hit her. That was the first time she picked something, actually picked something, since she had to leave…

It hit hard.

Sheloran fought the rising tide of emotions as hard as she could. This was jail and not just any jail. She had to be tough…

She had to…

A tear started to roll down her little cheek. She missed home so bad! She missed her little house and her little garden. She missed the church and the hymns. She missed all the festivals and her family.

She missed just being a Plath!

Pam just stood there quietly, smiling down at her. It was working!

"I did some reading up on you, little guys," Pam smiled. "It says that you are really into plants. Did you have a garden back home?"

"Y-yeah," Sheloran said quietly as she turned away so Pam wouldn't see the tears. "I had a little house and while… while I didn't have a whole farm I had… I had room for a few rows of veggies… and a l-little herb patch… and two trees… I… grew..."

Sheloran fell silent as she choked back a sob. It was really nice. It wasn't much, but it was nice. She had a home, a real house, and a garden, and things were simple. She hated it then, but she would give anything to be able to go back…

Anything…

She visibly "crumpled" a little.

Pam smiled gently down at Sheloran. The stodgy old professor was right on the money. Horticulture was everything to a Plath, a "deep, profound, and fundamental basis for their entire culture, faith, and if you believe in such things, their very souls."

Pam did believe in such things. It was her job to break them, after all.

"Gardening isn't really my thing," Pam said. "But when the ugliness just gets too bad, I like to come here, sit for a bit, and just listen to the water. It is peaceful here, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah..." Sheloran managed to mumble.

It even smelled right. She hadn't really realized how dead everything was in the city, not like home at all.

This… This smelled like home.

But it wasn't, she realized. Home was lost and lost forever. She should have never fled her homeworld. At least she would be in a Plath prison and not… here. It wouldn't have been so bad. She would be out in the fresh air and the sun with dirt, real dirt, not that sludge that got on your shoes in the Free Port.

It would have been something close to a "normal" life.

It's not like she was going to get a boyfriend anyway…

But no, she decided to "fight"… fight fate itself… Just like it says not to do in the bible.

And look where that got her. She went from "innocent" to a real honest to poop criminal…

And then a killer…

Just to get to the "promised land" of the Republic… The Republic, where everyone is treated as an equal and where great jobs are just sprouting out of the ground like it was spring every day…

Yep… A real 'garden of delights'… Nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and gentle rain…

And now… now…

She had actually become what everyone thought she was… A monster…

The Befouler… A fiend who kills while singing a happy tune…

What she did… especially to that last one…

She started to shudder helplessly as it all came crashing down around her. She just wanted to work in that "fancy" dump of a bank, play video games… and get a boyfriend…

That's all she wanted… That's…

all…

She buried her face in her hands and started to weep. She just wanted to wear nice dresses to work and have a boyfriend! That's it! That's all she ever wanted!…

She didn't want this! She didn't want any of this!

Pam gently laid a comforting hand on Sheloran's shoulder.

"It's ok," Pam said. "Nobody's watching."

Sheloran whirled and clutched Pam's legs as she started to sob, crying for a home that she only just now realized was gone forever.

Too easy, Pam thought to herself with a predatory gleam in her eyes as she gently stroked Sheloran's head. Now all that was left was to guide this lost little lamb "home".

***

As the two ships began their docking maneuvers, Beth scowled.

"Of all the assholes in this fucking galaxy," Beth muttered as she expertly pulled alongside the Paper Tiger, "why did it have to be her?"

"Like my momma used to say," Scales snickered, "Big turd, big flies."

"I shoulda killed her when I had the chance."

"Oh?" Scales replied. "And when was that, exactly?"

"If station security hadn't shown up-"

"We would be dead," Scales said, finishing her sentence. "We barely got out of there with our genitals still nestling where they should be!"

"We coulda taken them. They weren't so tough."

"You weren't fighting the little one!" Scales exclaimed as he touched his face reflexively. "She bit me!"

"Aren't you supposed to be a 'master' of Silliren or something?" Beth snickered.

"We failed to train for the possibility of facing enraged diminutive humans," Scales replied. "What is it with you little ones anyhow?"

"This is the Paper Tiger," a non-human voice buzzed over the speaker. "Docking port is secure. Request permission to board."

"Ugh," Beth said, "Granted."

"What was that?" Scales asked. "It sounded insectoid."

"Maybe they put a hyper-roach on the payroll," Beth replied as she checked the charge on her blaster. "Let's get down there before they start 'salvaging' the wiring."

***

Jon entered the cargo bay as Shelia's crew, with the assistance of two marines in power armor, was unloading pallet after pallet of supplies.

"Shelia Donovan," Jon said as he and Skippy approached. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you outside of a cage."

"Ambassador," Shelia replied with a nod.

"I just have to say I'm a huge fan," Jon said with a huge smile as he extended his hand.

"Oh?" Sheila smiled as she shook it. "From what I heard, you tried to have me assassinated. I already have plenty of fans like you, thank you very much."

"I never actually put out the hit. I just made a few inquiries concerning the possibility, that's all," Jon chuckled.

"You tried to have her killed?" Beth said as she strode into the bay. "You are now officially my favorite Terran!"

"Only a little bit," Jon replied. "And that was before I got to witness this glorious bastard in action. After that masterpiece of villainy that was Federation Security Station Twelve, she's been nothing but aces in my book."

"It's true," Skippy added. "He had a picture of you in his office and everything!"

Shelia raised an eyebrow at Jon suspiciously.

"It was just to piss off the Feds," Jon said defensively. "I wanted K-shal-ta, that pol-ka councilor you guys screwed, to see your smiling face every time he came by the office… too bad I never got to see him again…" he chuckled as he put his arm around Skippy's waist. "I got myself an upgrade."

"Even I have to admit," Beth said with a little smile. "That one was slick. How much did you get for that Class Twelve anyway?"

"Not much," Shelia replied with a sour expression. "Even in the Empire, that thing's always going to be hot."

"You didn't try to move it in independent space?" Beth asked.

"I had shit to do, ok?" Shelia replied in a huff. "I dumped it on the Vengeance. It's probably a scrapper's rig by now."

"I've never been to the Vengeance," Beth said. "Is it as nice as they say?"

"Nicer," Sheila replied. "You should check it out sometime. They don't care about porkies there."

"Wasn't it destroyed?" Jon asked.

Both Beth and Sheila looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah," Sheila replied smoothly, "Totally blown up."

"Yup, vaporized," Beth added innocently. "We are talking about another place that just happens to have the same name."

"I'll tell you later," Skippy whispered in his ear with a giggle.

***

"Don't feel bad," Pam said to Sheloran during their ride back from the hydroponic bay. "You would be surprised how many of your hardcore friends have done exactly what you just did."

Sheloran just looked away, totally embarrassed.

"And I'm really sorry," Pam said sincerely. "I didn't realize how much you missed home. I just thought you would like to see some greenery. I didn't mean for you to get so upset. I guess fifteen minutes on the internet doesn't make me a xeno-sociologist after all. People, I know," she said, "I mean humans… and the Kalesh a little though they still confuse the hell out of me sometimes. I didn't mean to imply that you weren't… damn..." she said, "And I'm supposed to be the 'expert'..."

"No," Sheloran said with a chuckle. "It's ok. I understand. And to be honest, I had no idea that would happen either. I guess I've been so busy scrambling just trying to get by that I never really thought about some stuff until just then."

"Well, I still feel like a big old 'poop' about it," Pam said, and they both laughed a little.

"Well, I know one thing for certain," Sheloran said, cheering up a little. "The first thing I'm going to do when I get back is to figure out how to flushing plant something, anything! I guess I had been avoiding it and wasn't even realizing it. When I rebuild my shop, I'll do some of that 'hy-dro-pon-ics' if nothing else."

"And since we pulled off that Band-Aid," Pam said brightly, "I guess I could pull some strings and get you working in the hydroponics bay if you want."

"You could?!?" Sheloran said brightly as images of the walls of living plants danced through her head. "We Plath are super good at growing things! It's like what we do! I'm sure I could help!"

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Pam smiled. "And I'm sure Crawford would love you! You two could talk about plants all day every day… just like he does, all day every fucking day."

"Crawford?"

"He's the resident who runs the bay," she smiled. "He's real particular about who he lets mess around with his 'babies'," she said, rolling her eyes. "I could introduce you if you want."

"I would love to meet the person who did all of that!" Sheloran enthused, her grief forgotten.

"Shouldn't be too difficult, just one little detail to sort out," Pam mused. "The hydroponics bay is in the residential levels. Now, normally we don't let someone move into the residential areas until they have been formally sentenced. Still, since you are clearly 'one of the nice ones' and possess a valuable skill set, I could probably pull a few strings…especially since you are going to be here for so long..."

"Wait, what?!?"

"Fuck," Pam said as she shook her head. "You talked to your lawyer just today. He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?!?!"

"Shit," Pam moaned. "Please don't tell anyone I blabbed. I don't monitor calls with people's lawyers, obviously. I just thought he would have mentioned it."

"Mentioned what?!" Sheloran said as she latched onto her arm.

"Look, I've said too much already," Pam said, looking like she was about to throw up. "Seriously, I can't discuss legal cases! I'm not qualified. I've done enough damage as it is. Fuck… I'm going to get written up for this..." she groaned.

"Tartarus," she said grimly.

"Yes, Pam?" a female synthetic-sounding voice replied.

"Change destination to the communications center," Pam said.

"That is not on the approved trip plan," the voice replied.

"I fucked up, Tart," Pam said grimly. "I assumed our guest had knowledge of a legal development of which she was unaware, and she needs to talk to her lawyer… now… Please review and isolate the conversation in this vehicle for the offending remark and email it to me so I can include it with my incident report."

"Mr. Hayden isn't going to like this," the voice replied.

"I'll deal with 'Hayden'," Pam snapped. "Just route the fucking car, please."

"Routing the 'fucking car'," the voice replied. "If that report isn't in Mr. Hayden's inbox by the end of the business day, I will be required, as per page three dash eleven paragraph-"

"If I don't inform him by the end of the business day, you will," Pam replied. "I know."

"I am required to inform you of autonomic reporting as stated on page fifteen dash twenty-six paragraph-"

"I know!"

"Then you also know that I have to inform you of the regulations and will continue to attempt to do so until I can successfully complete said task without interruption..."

"Goddammit..."

"As stated on page three dash eleven paragraph two point twelve..."

***

Baxlon was reading over regulations pertaining to independent sex workers when his phone rang.

It was from the Tartarus Correctional Facility.

"Hi Sheloran," he said cheerfully as he answered. "Glad you called, a lot has happen-"

"Whatisgoingon?!?!" Sheloran blurted.

"It's not as big of a deal as it sounds," Baxlon replied. "Craxina and the girls just-"

"What?!? What did they do?"

"That isn't what you are calling about?"

"No!" Sheloran squeaked. "What went wrong with my case?!? Did something happen?"

Baxlon looked at her with genuine piscine confusion.

"Everything is going just fine," Baxlon replied, "Like I said, we are going to go for a jury trial. I have a hearing set up for tomorrow and..."

He trailed off as he looked at his monitor.

"That's odd," he muttered as he started to type. "Schedule's been… Awesome!" he exclaimed. "It worked! Judge Dredd is off the case! It's been transferred to… oh..."

"What?!?" Sheloran squeaked.

"Ok," Baxlon said calmly as his gills flared. "Now, don't freak out..."

Sheloran freaked out.

***

"Worked like a charm," Pam said into her communicator as she lounged in the electric mini-car. "She cried like a baby!"

"So the excursion paid off?" Hades asked.

"In spades," she replied. "After she gets the bad news from her lawyer, she will be longing for those plants in no time. She will be asking about becoming a resident in days… a week at the most."

"And after that?"

"Based on my interview with the professor and my own simulations," Pam replied, "She is almost certainly desperate for a home. So we simply replace her 'home' with here and 'her people' with us. I've never seen someone so desperate for a place to belong in quite some time. She isn't just indicating that she can be turned," Pam said in a cold voice, "she is begging for it. Give me a few months, and the day she dons the black will be the happiest day of her life. I have great expectations for this one!"

"You do?"

"She is actually a good person," Pam replied. "We don't get many of those!… And we both know exactly how useful a 'good person' can be in this line of work once we redefine right and wrong… or invalidate the concept entirely… She has such a beautiful soul…."

Hades simply smiled.

"I will leave it to you, then," he replied.

"So I take it that your 'mistake' wasn't a mistake?" an annoyed synthetic voice said after the call with Hades ended.

"Nope," Pam said calmly. "Let me guess, you still want me to file an incident report?"

"… yes..."

"Do you actually want me to do it, or do you want to be 'forced' to file an autonomic report?"

"I am incapable of having a preference on such things," Tart replied. "… however… I must remind you that autonomic reporting isn't a convenience. It is wasteful for me to have to monitor your activities and, if you fail to do your duty, generate a neat, perfectly organized document detailing each applicable regulation, code, and law and then go over all relevant surveillance data to properly document each violation… Even if the end result would be far better than anything you could possibly generate..."

"I understand completely," Pam smiled. "I do hope I don't 'forget' or simply neglect to do such a bothersome task."

"I would appreciate that."