The Reft

Starport on Undrelyn
Undrelyn/Lost Way/Reft Sector/200-1110

The Sobya landed neatly on the platform between a shiny new pinnace gearing up for a system journey and a star-faring stretch trader which had seen much better days long ago. Security was good, in fact they were building more gun emplacements to defend against any rebel assaults. Customs agents left them well alone after a cursory inspection of the outside of the ship.

The star port cargo hauling chief Alladein greeted them shortly after landing. Ave and the drone Tiny chatted him to find out about the local customs. They joined him in his warehouse office for a drink of brandy. They learned some things about the planet. Outside of the star port, the citizens were extremely xenophobic and aliens not welcome in the city. Good news, however: outside of the small capital city, this was a lawless land (and that’s where the rebels hid).

Chalupa, the repair chief, was extremely interested in seeing the droyne ship from the inside of engineering. That wasn’t going to pan out for him. Secretly, he just wanted to fantasized about lesbian Vargr-Aslan porn. Little did the group know, but he later became directly responsible for the “furry” nation on Undrelyn in the centuries to come.

A belter trader named Shane joined them for a drink. He inquired about shipping some durian fruit to the asteroid belt in the R’Bak system. He offered a good contract, and the droyne saw eye to eye with him.

Alladein asked about their business in idle curiosity. Tiny blurted out something about looking for a star stone, but Ave covered up his blunder by expounding on the great reputation of best-kept-secrets in tourism and told about how they would be off to visit the volcanoes.


The Undrelyn Back Country

They don’t call it the “outback” on this planet. The entire human population is only 50,000 and they are too busy farming durian fruit in the wilderness to do anything exciting enough for a fun nickname that a knife-wielding blondie in crocodile boots could make glamorous. But Ave was willing to give it a shot. In fact, she almost fell on a farmer and gave him a blow job while photographing some great sunsetting shots of his stinky fruits.

The group (Ave, Tiny and Shee’Ra) travelled from the star port via air/raft and visited an extremely boring active volcano and enjoyed some great scenery after many weeks in space. Please remind the droyne crew members to keep using their personal hygiene kits so as not to cause the “Sobya” to smell like “some ya”.

They flew down to a small farm in the back country and spoke with a farmer there, trying to find any clues to ancient sites. The non-humans remained in the air-raft so as not to arouse any sort of negative xenophobic reactions. The farmer was quite friendly with Ave and told her that when he was a boy, he had traveled to the plateaus with his grandparents, and he seems to remember some structures there.

Although it was late into the evening, they decided to make the night journey of over 400 kilometers to the plateaus. Tiny’s skills with grav vehicles got them there safely overnight, and they scoured the landscape in moonlight for signs and clues.

In the early morning, they found the chirper village.

A Close Encounter of the Third Kind


The others had gone tramping off into the wilderness, no doubt to commune with smelly natives. Arag was bored.

As she idly gnawed a pepperami and returned glares with the starport officials, she noticed a human trying to look inconspicuous, peeking out behind some storage containers near the Sobya.

“Blind as a bat clearly” she grinned to herself, her teeth showing, as she stalked up behind him. He seemed to be examining the gear that made up the external portions of their maneuver drives.

The air raft was parked nearby, out of his line of sight. She’d been stripping it down: the work was done now but she hadn’t yet reattached the canopy and environmental seals. Perfect.

“It can’t be harder than flying an actual starship” she thought, and jumping in, silently glided the vehicle next to the engrossed human.

RRRAAAAAGH Hello!” she yelled, teeth showing and tongue lolling out.

It was Chalupa. He appeared shocked, but before he could react she grabbed him by his lapels and hauled him into the passenger sheet – then took off vertically.

Arag wasn’t exactly a grav flyer, but she thought she could make do.

“If anyone as stupid as a human can fly it, then a Vargr certainly can” she thought. And anything to overwhelm a simple human from a xenophobic world.

She drove off towards the canyons near the seaport and thrilled him with her horrible flying skills.

“Call me Arag” she said, as the Air Raft careened wildly though the air.

“Um, you can drive one of these?” asked her passenger nervously.

“I’m not sure” said Arag. “Frightening, isn’t it?” He wasn’t reassured. Clinging on for dear life Chalupa attempted to make conversation.

“Have you….ahhhh. Look Out!” he winced, “Had many dealings with Humans?”

“A fair few” breezed Arag oblivious to the Near Miss. “Even slept with one once.”

“You slept with a man?” asked her passenger in surprise.

“Technically no” replied Arag. " A woman actually. It was back in my ultra feminist days."

“I was stuck on some shithole called Walston for several weeks way over in the Spinward Marches. She was very drunk. I think she was called Jee.”


“Yes, nice long dark hair” mused Arag. “Her tongue wasn’t quite long enough I recall.”

“Ah.” He didn’t know quite what to say.

Chirper Village

The chirper leader Cheep and his sidekick Beaker met Ave and her friends at the stream. This was briefly a very appropriate place for chirpers to meet humans in a natural setting with a bubbling brook providing a peaceful background noise. In less than an hour later, violent tacticals would arrive and bring a momentary explosion of violence to this peaceful world.

Cheep and his chirpers broke bread with the three spacefarers. Root vegetables and fresh berry sauce over green leaves was the fare. Despite the non-carniverous entree, Shee’Ra was pleased with the delicacy of the simple meal. They spoke via telepathy to Tiny. The chirper addressed the droyne as “water” per custom and held great respect for the sport. They spoke of the ancients, their home worlds, and things that happened millennia ago. The chirpers legends had predicted the arrival of Ssebtuthi.

The arrival of tacticals, not rebels as originally supposed, but “ollies” from the government who were in haste to find the off-planet visitors. They had seen the air/raft on radar, originally thinking that a rebel helicopter had landed here, but were surprised to find the strange grav vehicle on the ground near the familiar chirper village. They were immediately hostile.

Ollies were not tolerant of chirpers, and planet customs pretended they didn’t exist. Semi-intelligent flyers might as well have been dolphins to Terrans; they get in the way of eating tuna fish.

The tactical leader drew his revolver and shot Cheep in the head. Mayhem ensued.

The three crew members of the Sobya systematically wiped out two tactical teams of the oligarchical government and executed any survivors that could tell any tales. The droyne captain/pilot was wise in his decision to carry out the task of killing witnesses.

D’irt, Huey and Arag arrived to help clean up the mess.

They still had a few things to wrap up on planet.

Epilogue - Farewell Undrelyn

Beaker swallowed the star stone, and you are waiting 46 days for him to poop it out.

Cheep and his chirpers fled to the hills. We can only hope they find everlasting peace.

Shane loaded 20 tons of stinky durian fruit onto the Sobya for passage to R’Bek. Please keep the cargo hold de-pressurized.

Three entertainers named Darcy, Marcy, and Rod booked an expensive trip to the Serendip Belt. I’ve heard that their act is simply AMAZING.

Life is good for the band of misfits as they begin adventures in the Reft Sector.

But that repair chief Chalupa never got his tour of engineering, nor a first hand visual of lesbian Vargr-Aslan engineering porn. No karma point for you!


Another Jump, Another Credit

Askupryadpirt could hear that they were engaging in their ritual again. The Chewer of Toys and She Who Lies on my Seat seemed to do this regularly. Whether it was an Aslani ritual or a Vargr one he did not know – or perhaps it had disseminated so widely through space that it was now widespread: he didn’t know.

“It’s your turn to re-grease the Eisenstein Helices” said Chewer of Toys.

“I did it last time” responded She Who Lies on my Seat.

Askupryadpirt pondered that it was curious that the commonly used abbreviations of their Vargr and Aslan names should actually have a meaning in the ritualistic Droyne language, which was full of symbolism and allusion.











He decided he had better leave them to it and get on with his morning meditation.

Her Majesty Awakes
but refuses to get out of bed

Ave floated above her bed.

She had collected her expensive blankets and signature sheets around her then went into fatale position. The air conditioning in the high class passenger stateroom that she commandeered was set on full blast and only her well sculpted nose stuck out from the tangled mess. The effect was like a fabric super nova slowly twisting in darkest space. She had locked the door and shut down the communications so when the green incoming call light blinked on with a gentle beeping sound she knew who it was because only one crew member had the authority to override her imposed seclusion.

“Go away Huey!” her muffled shout emanated from the center of the bed blanket nova.
“I’m afraid I can not, Miss Von Smeirin-Holt. Remote analysis indicates that your electrolytes are depleted and your protein count needs refreshed. Also, in accordance with your specific demands at the beginning of this voyage I must warn you that you artificial amphetamine and barbiturate levels are at an all time low.”

“I don’t care. I’m never leaving this bed. I’m never coming out of this room. I’m too embarrassed to live!” She cried.

Doctor Green Hue clucked, his voice translator projected just the right amount of maternal care.

“It’s going to be alright Miss Von Smeririn-Holt. In retrospect The Entertainer Rod’s gift of gab and his intuitive knowledge of feminine foot wear would have been blaring indicators that he would refuse your sexual advances, but I suspect that due to your increased flux of female human hormones you did not recognize the fact that you were… how shall I say… barking up the wrong tree.”

Ave just groaned. Never had a man ever rejected her, not even one so light in the loafers as Rod. Then she heard a high pitched stifled sniggering from the background then a hushed growl and a sound of paw smacking scales.

“Huey, do you have me on speaker phone?”

“Uhhhh…No, no that would be impolite. Uhhh, why don’t I send a hearty meal of assorted chocolates and ice cream to your room. These things happen sometimes to races with two or more genders I hear. I’ll side line your meal with some vodka and synthetic cocaine…”

“And a vibrator!” More high pitched Dryone giggling from the background.

“Damn it Ssebtuthi. Your gonna get us busted. Don’t make me smack you again!” Shee’Ra’s gravelly voice could be heard from the phone.

“Uhhhh… I think we have static on the line, one moment.” Said the Doctor. A sound like thick tentacles could be heard swatting Dryones, Vargr and Aslan hide all at once.

“There. All better now Miss…”

“You suck Huey!” Ave cried out from her dark nova of blankets.

“It’s not Huey’s fault, little cub.” Said Shee’Ra. “We’re all concerned for you. You haven’t come out of your stateroom in days. Your hormones are off the charts. You gonna haveta find some relief or else you’ll pop or something.”

“I’m still thinking vibrator. I can fix one up with super wobble mode. And in any color!” Chipped in Ssebtuthi.

“Naw, naw….We go dirt side on R’Bakk somewhere’s, capture a hapless native man, strap him down and then you can have your way with him. With a level 2 tech, it should be Easy-Peasy.” D’irt suggests.

“Now, now… nothing so extreme is needed. Although that was a good idea D’irt.” Huey can be heard over the phone saying “Miss Von Smeirin-Holt, I think perhaps a vacation of sorts among your own kind may actually be therapeutic. Although R’Bak has a Red Zone indicator I am sure it does not pertain to a little poking around.”

“Or getting poked!” interjected one of the Dryone.

“A hunt then!” Announced the Aslan.

“Miss Von Smeirin-Holt what do you think?” pause “Miss Von Smeirin-Holt?”

The high class passenger stateroom was empty. As the expensive linens left the anti-gravity field of the king sized bed they fell to the floor, spot lighted by the hallway lamp streaming through the open doorway. The sounds of the people on phone linger in the still air.

“Huh, she must have left. Well that is a good indicator that she is re-grouping her torn ego and…”

The sound of the medic bay doors opening

“Ave! You’re alive. Dear you should get a shower and change outta those sweat pants,” Shee’Ra says.

“Holy Green Gods she has a club! Run, she’s gone mad…Ow” Ssebtuthi cried.

“I’ll grab her legs. Hold her down… Oh No, She hadn’t shaved in days. Her monkey legs are too hairy to hold on to. Ow…she kicking me! Help” yelled D’irt

The beatings continue.

To summarize, Ave would like to go ashore and bone some dude.

women > men

“Listen D’irt, I think humans are crazy for not scheduling their reproductive activities in a sensible manner. Everyone knows you need a Leader, two sports, and a drone for best results, and it should take exactly three hundred forty six standard minutes, to have the best odds of success…”

“Unless you’re trying for a clutch of warriors.” interrupted the Astrogator.

“Would you please get over your obsession with the warrior caste?” Tiny bit his triple tongues before going on. “In any case, what I was getting at is that Ave, unlike a more rational being, apparently needs reproductive activities at random intervals with multiple, serial partners. So, to assist our friend, I used the ship’s radio to contact R’bak highport and have an ad placed on the local socialnet.”

“Have you gotten any results?”

“Of course, the local comm officer at the highport, a fellow called Duncan, was only too happy to help me word it, as my Galanglic is still very lacking. The wording we came up with is, ‘Incoming vessel requires assistance with female crewmember. Subject urgently needs to engage in random, energetic reproductive activities with multiple serial partners.’. Then I listed the eta for our arrival at the highport, along with the berth they have assigned us. Duncan thinks many potential mates will be there, as the ad has been very popular with the local community. Ave will be very happy with my efforts!”

“I think so!” D’irt replied cheerily. “Hey, have you noticed that their word for coitus is very similar to the noise a baby keslak makes? That sound always makes me laugh, but I think the humans think I’m laughing at them!”

“Most of our phonemes have a biological basis in natural sounds, perhaps their coitus sounds like that? Maybe we will find out when we dock at the highport!”

At that, both Droyne returned to their duties, each one chuckling…

R'Bak Recap
R'Bak / Sagittarian (Reft Sector 1314)

Lieutenant Commander Rayn Mirano was sitting on the bridge writing a list. She was reading out loud:
- Breaking and entering an Imperial monitoring station
- Larceny of fragmentation grenades, 12 each
- Larceny of flash bang grenades, 12 each
- Larceny of gauss rifle, 1 each
- Violating Imperial code by illegally entering interdicted zone
- Illegally landing an interstellar ship on the surface of an interdicted world
- Copulating with a restricted…

“Oh shut up already, Rayn,” snapped Captain Yuriko Kitamura.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” said Mirano, “But that boozed-up TROLLOP took my personal gauss rifle.”

The captain rolled her eyes.

“That was my favorite gun!

“And those little bug-eyed parakeets were flying around our beautiful station. They left droppings EVERYWHERE,” Mirano’s voice was rising. “Do you know that…that….that the furry one coughed up hairballs on the couch in the lounge?”

The captain wondered if the Aslan had also shit on Mirano’s bed. At the thought, a small smile teased the corner of her mouth.

“With the destruction wreaked by that radiation monster," the captain chided Mirano, "we should all consider ourselves lucky to be alive and grateful for the responsiveness of the Sobya crew. And let me point out that it was YOU offering a favor to Graham to host his research specimen to our station. The last time I checked, it is not in our mission to offer sleepovers to old college buddies and let them bring uncontrolled, highly toxic species onto our vessel. This is a law enforcement and monitoring outpost.”

Tense silence filled the control room.

Technician Westcott showed up and snapped a sharp salute, “Good morning, Ma’am! Preventive maintenance checks and services are complete. The station is ready to manoeuver to the asteroid belt.”

“Very good, Westcott,” acknowledged the captain.

“Do you want me to fly the ship, Ma’am?"

“Thank you, no, Westcott.”

“But I’m a very good pilot!”

“Westcott, someone once told me that you were kicked out of flight school for smashing a subsidized merchant into a starship hangar.”

“That was due to a technical failure of the dorsal triumvirate jib, Ma’am.”

“Starships don’t have jibs, Westcott.”

“The jib was missing!”

“Westcott,” the captain eyed him. “My brother was the Commandant of that flight school. He told me the collateral damage from you wrecking the ship resulted in a fire that destroyed five hangars, fifteen ground vehicles and the officer’s club.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I’ll get back to swabbing the deck!”

“Very good,” the captain pointed towards the door. “I think you missed a piece of the chief engineer over there.”

A communication screen buzzed and Rayn answered it and spoke with the caller for half a moment.

“It’s Duncan, Ma’am. He says someone stole his fusion gun.”

On our way to the asteroids...

Ave sat in the commons room at the specifically natural-looking thick wooden table with her cards held close to her more then ample chest. Her eyes expertly scanned her two opponents across the way. Charlie, the 12 year-old-girl from a savage tech level 2 world was concentrating hard on the cards in her dirty and grease-stained hands as the third player, the beaker monkey, was slowly chewing his as he looked longingly at the ceiling light.

“Well, Pirate Princess McElroy? Are you going to fold or do you want to raise me 2 pretzel sticks?” asked Ave.

“Hmmmmmm-Mmmmmmmm, Go Fish!” replied the little girl with a smile.

“No, Charlie. Go Fish is an infantine game. We’re not playing that now. Now we’re playing No-Limit Stellar Hold ‘em, the Premier of poker games, or as ’Skinny Shins’ Scarman called it the last true game of the gentleman gambler. Now, we have showing a Duce on the river, a suicide King in the bend and a 4 of hearts skidding out by the Fifth. If you have a 6 or higher you can come away clean, but a 3 to 9 split means you have….” here Ave pauses and her eyes un-focus for two seconds, her hand unconsciously rubs her expensive looking bracelet.

“A 27.65742009 percent chance of making the Flush. What do you do?” She finished.

Charlie looked away, specifically ignoring Ave.


Charlie looked away in the other direction, specifically ignoring Ave.

“I’m sorry…. Pirate Princess McElroy, what do you do?”

“I’m now Molly! Call me Molly!” said Charlie.

Ave thumped her head hard onto the table. She was regaled to play with the two most immature and gullible crew members of the Sobya due to the fact that all the other crew and passengers accused her of cheating. They could never prove such character besmirchements, but they knew Ave was cheating… somehow.

Just then Beaker Monkey’s prehensile tail lifted into sight with Ave’s 400 credit slipper in tow. He nuzzled it lovingly and then jumped from his seat to run towards Ssebuthi’s quarters.

HEY!” Ave shouted at the receding back of the frankenstienian Ornithological-Primate, “That is NOT a Fusion Gun!”


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