Relative temporality: Ta6Lo62000
Zone: Sector Z
Location: Somewhere on the edge of the Civilized Universe, abandoned system.
Control: No-man’s land
Affiliation: -
There are some solar systems that no one is interested in. Absence of valuable resources and proximity to the front lines without a strategic position, that’s what made this system uninteresting. In fact, it didn’t really have a name, vaguely designated by the administrative denomination 0-Z-12.568.991.
Systems without any particular interest were often used for tourism or residential areas, as long as the development of the places was not too expensive. However, the proximity of the Zcarbb border had discouraged any initiative here. There was barely an old Network beacon, almost a thousand years behind current quality standards.
The dilapidated state of its devices did not allow it to detect a civilian ship with the most mediocre camouflage. What was it even doing in this lost place? The beacon did not know anything and did not detect it, so no one would know anything.
On board the device, manually adjusting the controls, was a Balgrass. Small lizard barely more than a meter tall and with large eyes, it was one of the most widespread races in the universe. His people's strange ability to inspire trust in their interlocutors, despite their reputation as con artists, made them natural traders.
If he controlled his ship manually, it was because he had deactivated the onboard Z.I.A. before his last jump: he didn't want it to go and tell the Administration about the shady places he visited.
Of course, there were still a number of onboard functions managed by AIs, notably correcting his trajectory errors, but this one was much more obedient than the superior model.
An asteroid was growing in his field of vision, matching the coordinates he had copied onto a piece of paper. He had even roughly drawn its particular shape on it, although he was probably the only one capable of seeing a correspondence between this scribble and the real object.
A smile spread across his face and most humanoids would have called him extremely cute if seeing him like this. Members of his own people would have said that he was obviously in the grip of a major fit of greed and that they would like to know what it was about in order to participate in it.
But, behind this mask, a great anxiety reigned. The kind of anxiety that comes when one wonders “am I going to leave here alive?”.
He began to execute an approach maneuver by reducing his speed and inserted himself into a crack in the asteroid. The searchlights of his ship swept the surroundings and illuminated a vast cave. There were other lights, notably surrounding a flat, circular place: a landing platform. Like everything else in this place, it had been carefully excavated and arranged by his “partners” in preparation for this encounter.
Warily, he let the AIs perform the automatic approach. Not having a warship, his cockpit had a real glass roof that, although made of technically “indestructible” glass, could well explode in the event of violent contact with the walls of the asteroid, hurling him towards a most horrible death... or not, since he was wearing a protective field, but his insurance would require proof in pictures before any reimbursement, which he would not be able to provide. In a way, paying for the damage out of his own pocket would also be a bit like dying.
He swallowed as he remembered who he was going to deal with: in fact, a financial loss was not so terrible compared to a real death that could well happen soon…
The footbridge of his ship deployed once the maneuver was finished. He wasted no time and got off, a thick suitcase in his hand. The protective field that surrounded his body glowed, preserving his oxygen and illuminating his path, but this model would not resist a real weapon of war… A weapon like those held by the two large soldiers guarding the tunnel leaving the cave.
It was difficult to know if he could compare them to large insects or to spiders with multiple eyes filled with hatred. In any case, all their legs, including those used to walk, had unknown weapons and devices attached to them. As if to confirm to him that they were indeed threatening, each of the guards pointed a beamer of a common model in his direction.
Their voices rose, shrill, tormenting the universal translator they used: “You Balrog Pecune Kama? Identification or death?”
The creature, very small compared to these two monsters, swallowed. This time, it was much more real than when conversing via the Dark-Network: he was facing Zcarbbs. These mysterious monsters had an intergalactic nation capable of confronting the Administration and had never lost any territory they had invaded during this Tanaé… Communicating with them without advanced diplomatic authorization was a very serious crime, severely punished… if one survived it.
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“I… Yes, I am the Balgrass, not Balrog, and my name is Pecul Kama. I… I come to meet your superior as agreed…”
One of the guards switched his beamer to scanner mode and projected a beam on the Balgrass, circling around to analyze all the details. His device didn’t reveal any hidden weapons… The little “trader” wasn’t telepathic, but he thought he saw a glint in the guards’ eyes that said “no weapons visible, but we should probably kill him just in case…”. Fortunately, a voice rang out in their foreign language and they stepped aside, waving him to go through.
Pecul advanced between the two gigantic shapes whose mandibles were clicking menacingly… The universal translator didn’t translate Zcarbb… at least not without alpha clearance and special authorization. So, it was impossible to guess what his partners would say to each other. A precarious position for a negotiation…
“By the Indestructible!” he cursed inwardly. “I’m too stupid… My mother told me that my greed would be my downfall one day… Here I am, without a backup plan and in a lair controlled by the other party, to make a transaction… I’m a complete idiot! But at the same time, if it works, I'll make money like never before...”
The tunnel quickly led to a well-appointed secondary room. A large number of strangely shaped electronic equipment lined the walls. There was probably a gravity generator in the pile, since he could move on foot in the asteroid. Many lamps illuminated the room and, slumped on a huge pile of cushions, was the person he was dealing with.
Much smaller than the guards, but taller than him, the creature had a fairly humanoid torso, which continued with more insectoid parts. Why was a creature covered in chitin from head to toe on cushions? Perhaps her body was more sensitive than it appeared?
It was a Zcarbb princess. Other members of her species were present. Off to the side, guarding another tunnel, were about ten workers. Larger than the princess and more insect-like in appearance, they were quite passive, motionless like robots waiting for an order. One of them seemed to be in a more active position and was standing near the princess. He had just given her a sort of floating bowl containing a few red things that the princess took handfuls of and gobbled down like chips.
“Ah,” she said after finishing her mouthful, “you are finally here! Do you have the goods?”
Nervous, but convinced that he was hiding it, Pecul nodded and patted his suitcase.
“Yes, I have the product. And you?”
The princess gestured and the workers moved aside, revealing a huge pile of golden amber jars, which continued far down the corridor.
“Exactly one ton of honey, preserved in amber jars, as agreed. So, show me your product!”
The Balgrass placed his suitcase on the cushions and activated the opening with a combination of DNA and retinal prints. The suitcase opened on a very common computer.
“Here are the goods: this computer contains the program and the latest data from the stock exchange of three galaxies strongly linked commercially, as promised.”
The princess excitedly grabbed the device and turned it on, immediately opening the program. Rows of numbers and various information appeared on the screen and she was jumping with joy.
“Perfect! Perfect! Perfect! Everything is as great as you described. With this data, there is plenty to be keep busy... Ah, I can't wait!”
“Well, that's perfect then. Can I take my goods and leave?”
“Yes, yes, go. It's great, there is even the possibility of simulating random events? Wow!”
While the princess was ecstatic, Pecul went to the pile of jars and took a small device from his belt. He set it up then pointed at the goods which were immediately surrounded by a halo of light that lifted them off the ground. The Balgrass then left the room, followed by a farandole of jars dancing in the air.
Passing in front of the two guards, he returned to his ship and supervised the arrival of all the jars. It was only once he was well away from the asteroid, after having initiated a jump to a neighboring system, that he exhaled, expelling the tension.
It was won! He had a ton of Zcarbb honey, which would be resold under the counter for a fortune, preserved in amber jars which guaranteeing authenticity. The deal of the century! And all that for a low-end computer containing financial simulation software that he had bought for next to nothing. The update with the real information from the stock exchange of the chosen galaxies had cost him almost nothing… In fact, apart from the little fuel spent, what had cost him the most was paying the hacker to make the software usable without logging into a Network account.
“Mouah! Ha! Ha! Ha! The Zcarbbs are really idiots who have no idea of the true value of things! Pleasure doing business with you!”
In the asteroid, the Zcarbbs were already busy preparing for departure. The princess had already been loaded aboard the ship with all the essential equipment. Completely enthralled by her new toy, she had been transported with her cushions.
As the Zcarbb ship moved away from the meeting place and jumped into a neighboring system, the commoners sighed in relief, or at least the equivalent for the Zcarbbs. Now back on familiar territory, their princess was no longer in danger.
The servant specially assigned to her service was entitled to her comments, although he had no opinion or interest in the subject.
“Did you see? It's so cool! There are really a lot of weird things in the way the economy of the administered works! Their video game is so good! I just simulated a complete crash of a society's economy and I'm trying to see how long it would take me to get it back up! It's super fun!”
“Yes… I guess…”
“These administered really have no sense of the real values of things: he sold me this great game for only a ton of honey! Ah, my sisters will all be jealous!”
“Exactly: Isn’t there a risk of them denouncing you to the queen?”
“Not if they want to be able to play it too! They'll be ready to give me lots of presents for it… Oh, that'll be great!”
The servant shrugged inwardly. All that mattered was that the princesses were happy and safe, but also that the queen was happy, which meant that she had to ignore this escapade.
He discreetly communicated with a nearby camouflaged warship, telling it that they could resume their usual patrol: there was no longer any need to be ready to sacrifice oneself to slow down a possible enemy fleet.
A feeling of well-being passed through the servant. He didn't understand what one could do with a ton of honey (how long would it take for this creature to eat all that?) or financial simulation software (it was probably useful, or at least it amused the princesses, which was good because a happy princess is well on the way to becoming a fulfilled queen), but he knew that he had once again done what was necessary for the Good (of the Zcarbbs).