Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter 245: Honx

Honx charged across an old, cracked asphalt parking lot, yoked to a sturdy cart.

She grinned, her snoot waving happily.

"Tank!" a group of people clad in grubby coveralls cheered as she, with a little difficulty, came to a stop.

"Pthoo!" she snorted as she shrugged out of the makeshift harness and rolled her shoulders.

She grinned again.

"I fucking love this thing!" she said as she gave the cart a little tap with one of her hind legs. "I got everything!"

"Awesome!" an overly thin grey-haired man enthused as he grabbed a length of stout electrical cable.

"You're the best, Tank!" a burly olive-skinned woman said as she swatted Honx's rump and grabbed another cable.

"Who needs a truck when you have a tank!" a young Kalesh laughed as he grabbed yet another length of cable.

Honx grabbed two, one for each shoulder, and trotted along as they all started to swarm a portable reactor built into a shipping container.

"Easy money!" Honx enthused as she connected her cables to the one laid by the olive-skinned woman, carefully following marks spray-painted on the old expanse of asphalt.

"Pthoof..." she snooted as she stretched her back and unclipped a thermal flask from the harness she had taken to wearing. "Those fuckers don't get any lighter, do they?"

She flipped open the top of the bottle, and steam curled out. She took a sip as she looked out over the vast parking lot in front of an old gigantic abandoned structure.

She took a sip.

"Where the Hell are we, and what are they going to do with this many mega-watts out here in the wastes?" a young man said as he connected his cable to Honx's and started laying it out along the dashed white line.

"Don't know," Honx replied as she closed and reattached her flask, "Don't care."

"I heard they are going to salvage that thing," the burly woman said, nodding to the giant building.

"Whatevs," Honx replied with a shrug. She just learned that word, "whatevs". She loved it!

She turned towards the large reactor.

"We got those faults cleared yet?"

"Nope!" someone replied with entirely too cheerful a voice.

"Wonderful!" she laughed as she trotted back to the cart to grab more cable.

As she grabbed another two, Jamal's grav-van came in for a landing.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jamal chided as the door opened. "One at a time, Honx."

"It's more comfortable for me to do two," she replied, "It doesn't tweak my back as bad."

"Those cables are designed to be within the maximum weight for one-man carry," Jamal said, shaking his head.

"One man carry," she snootled, "not one tank carry!"

Jamal chuckled.

"Just mind yourself," he said. "I don't need you dropping again."

"You worry about getting that reactor going," Honx snorted, "and I'll worry about my own tender little flank."

She trotted off.

"I worry about it because you don't!" he shouted after her. "You're no good to anyone laid up!"

He smiled proudly as he watched her leave. And to think that not long ago, he was worried that she wouldn't be able to hold up.

"Tank..." he quietly chuckled as he grabbed a tool bag and started walking towards the reactor.

***

Many hours later, Honx, the young Kalesh, and a few other helpers were slumped around Honx's "battle wagon".

"Kill me..." the olive-skinned woman moaned.

"Is it always like this?" the Kalesh implored.

"Easy… money..." Honx muttered as she sprawled on the pavement, her eyes drifting closed.

There was a loud warning siren, and the reactor sprung to life.

Jamal and another journeyman crawled out and started to walk around it, holding scanners. After they were satisfied, he walked over to Honx.

He sat down on the asphalt next to her.

"Easy money," he chuckled wearily.

"Mmmph," Honx smiled, her snoot prodding his leg.

***

Later, Honx scrubbed hours of sweat and grime away in her hotel room's bathtub.

She sighed happily as she moved the showerhead over her centaur-like body, her slender fingers running over her body, probing the ever growing cable like bulges under her skin.

She smiled. She really was turning into a tank.

Once she finished, she strode, naked, into the living room and admired herself in the mirror.

"Unattractive" ripples and bulges adorned her torso, her sides, and her flank.

She giggled as she turned this way and that, flexing and posing, marveling at herself.

Her communicator beeped.

It was Jamal.

She reached for her clothes… and stopped.

It's not like he was going to see, she thought as she blushed slightly and answered.

"Hello, Jamal," she giggled, imagining that he was in the room with her… gazing upon her…

"Hey… Tank," he chuckled.

She giggled again.

"Just wanted to let you know that Ankha's crew really talked you up at the meeting," he said proudly, "They said that you were, well… a tank."

"Meh," she said nonchalantly, her heart overflowing with pride. "Easy money, right."

"Heh," Jamal chuckled, "Easy money… Speaking of, we're at triple time now."

"As if we have time to spend it," she laughed, sharing an inside joke, "So, what's the next gig, and do we have time to eat?"

"Was it that obvious?"

"You're calling after hours," she chuckled, "Since you refuse to be a proper Alpha, there is only one reason you are calling upon me at this hour, and it is not to render me praise that could keep until breakfast."

"I just got a call from Lagash IV," he said, "Their primary reactor just shit the bed, and they are running on battery. It's a code red."

"Oh," she said, a bit disappointed, "Have fun. Do you want me to hang around here, or should I try to hook up with Ankha?"

"Actually," he smiled, "I was wondering if you wanted to come along. It should be interesting."

"Really?!?" she snootled, her nonchalant act blown out of the water.

"I mean, if you don't want to..." Jamal said, his voice bursting with amusement.

"But… I don't have a space suit..."

"You do now," he smiled. "I had it made last week."

"Jamal!" she gasped.

"You earned it," he said proudly, "and I want you to get you some zero-g hours on your card. Besides, the hazard multiple on this is just criminal."

"I'll be right there!!!" she snootled!

"Get ready for some NOT easy money," Jamal laughed.

"Can't wait!!!"

***

"You gonna be ok?" a very tall, very slender man asked as he glided past effortlessly.

"(Hurk…) I'm fine," Honx said weakly as she desperately tried not to throw up… again.

"Just take your time," Jamal's voice said through her helmet's speaker. "The whole point of this is to get you some space legs."

"I'm sorry I can't properly be your subordinate," she said miserably as a foul-smelling tube automatically popped up in front of her mouth again.

The smell was enough.

"Hrrgurgle..."

As she spasmed, she wondered which meal she lost this time. It certainly wasn't her last one anymore.

"You need to tap out?" the "space elf" asked as he floated up to her, quite amused.

"Easy… (hurk)… money..." she said weakly.

***

"I'm so sorry, Jamal!" she wailed what to her felt like a lifetime later as they sat beside each other in a shuttle.

"Why?" Jamal laughed. "A lot of people spew their first few times. At least you hung in there. The big thing is that we got them running, and you got some suit time on your card. You even went for a spacewalk! That's one more stamp on your card!"

She sighed. Just when she thought this was getting easier, it stopped.

"So, how was the suit?" Jamal asked.

"The self-cleaning system works great!" Honx laughed weakly.

"Twigs likes you, by the way," Jamal smiled, "and he's a hard one to impress. He says that he's never seen some puke as much as you did and still stay on the job. He said he got some good work out of you despite everything."

"You say it gets easier, right?" she asked.

"Well, it does for us," Jamal smirked.

She punched him weakly in the arm.

They sat in silence for a while.

"Hey, Honx," he said after a bit, "did you have any quest..."

He smiled at Honx's sleeping face drooping towards her chest.

His phone started beeping.

He set his status to "unavailable: Safety (fatigue)," leaned back, and closed his eyes.

***

At the Drop of Oil, a crowd of xenos fidgeted impatiently.

"There she is!!!" one of them exclaimed as a Unified Transport cargo van pulled to a stop, and Charlotte clambered out of the rear doors.

They all rushed to meet her.

"So?" one of them asked, jumping up and down.

"It was a disappointment," Charlotte replied…

Everyone's face (or where they show their emotions) fell.

"I only scored a ninety-two out of a hundred," she said ruefully.

"You passed?!?" one of them squeaked, "You got your certificate?!?"

"There was no doubt of that," Charlotte replied, "however, do you know what you call a hunter who errs one time in ten? Dead. I am displeased with myself. I can take solace in the fact that the areas in which I scored poorly were the Terran language, Terran law, and Galactic Geography. I had wished to delay the test further. However, I could not guarantee that what I was teaching would suffice until I actually sank my fangs into the prey."

She smiled. Her students no longer flinched when she did so.

"My trail now leads to and over the Terran Educational Equivalency Certificate. Those who follow it can now do so in complete confidence."

Her "swarm" cheered, squeaked, chirped, and buzzed excitedly.

"Now, prepare your minds and your slates," she said. "I have cost us valuable instruction time..."