Scene suggestion—anup and sourang 9 (Patreon)

Goodness! I can't believe I've done nine of these things already. I may need to take a break and work on other stories for a bit.

...unless you guys can suggest what should happen next, that is...

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Ambassador Kedorvan reclined on a couch with a relaxed expression on his face. Across from him, his boss sat behind a richly lacquered hard-wood desk, paging through the ambassador’s latest report.

“Excellent, excellent,” murmured Preatornia, the director of planetary development. He tapped on the tablet’s screen with a meter-long talon. “Looks like research and development didn’t have any difficulty synthesizing that antiviral for you.”

“They did,” agreed the ambassador, “but I’ve decided against using it.”

“Oh?” asked the director, lifting a brow. “They don’t need it anymore?”

“They do, sure,” said Kedorvan. “I’m taking a few thousand doses of it with me, but R&D also synthesized a version that prevents their offspring from catching it. Sort of an in-utero vaccine. It’s slightly cheaper to manufacture than the antiviral.”

“Nice. Accounting will appreciate that.”

“I’m going to start rolling the vaccine out in a generation or two.” The ambassador leaned forward and gestured at the tablet. “On page thirty-seven, I’ve worked up a few scenarios for the rollout. The delay is regrettable, but it’s really going to be worth it. Testing shows that their loyalty to us should go off the charts when we finally share it.”

“No, the loyalty of such a small population, although appreciated,” said the director with a hint of concern, “means less to us now than having a large population to draw from. These lio upstarts are itching for a fight and I’ve promised our military that these anup will make excellent troops.”

“I’m confident that you’re correct there, sir, but if you skip ahead to pages thirty-nine and forty, you’ll find my timeline,” said Kedorvan, counting off bullet points on his talons, “I’m already pushing the contraception-is-evil angle with their priests, setting up a nostalgic romanticism for large families in their media, prepping their economy for a huge rebound, and…”—the ambassador sat back and grinned wide—“this vaccine has also been engineered to greatly increase fertility rates” He laughed, covering his mouth with a claw, “Oops. I suppose every drug has its share of side effects.”

The director howled, slapping his desk with a claw and wiping his eyes with the other. “You pull this one off, Kedorvan, and they’ll hand you my job on a golden platter.”

The ambassador smirked. “If they do, sir, it’s only because you’ll be retiring early on the Isle of Fire. I can only guess what size bonus the military has promised you for a slave army.”

The director grinned, confirming nothing. “Keep up the great work, Ambassador. I’m just sorry you had to fly all the way back to Krakuntec for this meeting.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kedorvan said as he stood. “I had promised my niece that I wouldn’t miss her thousandth birthday party. I was going to be here anyhow.”

He left the office and took a private transport directly back to his shuttle. The Galaxy Mark IX stood ready on the tarmac, freshly washed and prepped for the flight. As the ambassador flopped down in the cockpit, a ground-crew slave in an orange environment suit peeked in.

“Is my ship fueled and serviced?” asked Kedorvan.

“Yes, Ambassador, sir,” squeaked the tiny attendant in the geroo language—throughout the empire, slaves were forbidden from speaking the krakun tongue. “I’m just waiting for your final confirmation, and then I’ll be out of your way.”

Ambassador Kedorvan’s eyes flicked from screen to screen as he went through the pre-flight checklist in his mind. But when he saw the navigation display, he froze, pausing only a moment before snatching the tiny slave off the deck and lifting him up to the console’s height.

“Sir!” squeaked the slave. “Whatever I’ve done wrong, I apologize! I’ll fix it right away.”

The krakun turned his claw, pointing the slave toward navigation, already displaying the ambassador’s flight plan. “Would you care to explain why you needed to access my flight plan?”

“I didn’t!” squeaked the attendant. “That screen was off earlier when I prepped your ship! I swear it! I only,” he gasped between labored breaths, “ran the diagnostics…”

“Tell me, little slave, which company bribed you? Who wanted to know that I was headed to Anuptec?” demanded the krakun. “What have they promised you?”

“No one! I promise! Please sir, you’re hurting me.” the geroo squeaked. “I would never…”

The creature’s protests ended suddenly with a sickening crunch. Then, without a second thought, the ambassador tossed the orange-suited corpse into the waste bin beneath the navigation console. He went back through his pre-flight checklist once more—slowly this time, making sure that nothing had been sabotaged—then he raised the ramp and pressurized the compartment for departure.

From inside the waste-bin, two solid-black eyes peered out from the shadows.

Rrrr let out a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “That was far too close for comfort,” whispered the sourang. Then he ducked back down in the bin’s depths and retrieved the orange-suited body with a smile on his whiskers.

“But thank you for leaving this snack, Ambassador. Your flight plan to Anuptec will take a lot longer than I expected.”

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/105o55psOMOqpDJOB5t-lb0duXyIrXhJyrGUXWfOdXew/edit?usp=sharing

What do you think? Ominous enough for your tastes?