The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7:
The Roundabout
Scene 6:
Feathered Nuptuals
I spend the day your way...
7.6
Feathered Nuptuals
“Okay, I think I’m starting to get it,” mused Lance Corporal Petra Spitz.
Even with the hold of Pel’s Shuttle first being thoroughly washed and aired out, the entire atmosphere exchanged, and the hold even more full of some of the most interesting and pleasant-smelling flowers Spike and her fellow marines had ever encountered, the rich, loamy, unsettling barnyard smell of manure had still occasionally wafted throughout the cabin.
The U.S.S. Mako had carried Pel’s Shuttle and its small crew at Warp 9 from the Choutbro system on one edge of the Oulheadhry to Edzella, the home planet of the eadh, on the other extreme, in less than a day. A trip that would have taken any normal shuttle months.
The U.S. Marines had been met by a force of 3,333 eadh warriors, decked in brightly colored leather armor. Like the heethed, the eadh were, on average, about 5’0”, considerably shorter and smaller than average for humans. The similarity ended there… While they did not have wings, the eadh resembled birds in many ways. Instead of teeth and lips, their beak-like mouths, while flexible, were hard and had layers of serrated ridges on the inside. Their eyes were widely placed and their heads, arms and legs sported large, brightly colored, fully fledged feathers. The rest of their bodies were covered with a layer of fine, downey feathering, including their faces.
This feathering reflected different colors depending on how the individual feathers were turned, and the this color shifting reflected subtle shifts in mood. The mood today was delighted. Pel was paid extravagantly in coins and some sort of paper currency in return for his payload of brilliant, freshly cut and arranged flowers, making the wedding of the regent of the largest continent on Edzella to her fifth husband, the most splendid ceremony in living memory - or documented history.
Lance Corporal Petra Spitze was standing next to Pel, who was seated on a high stool at a table designed for people slightly taller than Pel to stand at and take food. This table was located in a reviewing stand some distance from the royal veranda that had served as the focal point for the wedding ceremony. Considering the thousands of well armed and evidently expertly and exhaustively drilled eadh soldiers, neither Pel nor 2nd. Lt. Iov Pushkin, nor any of the other marines had any desire to be closer to the nuptials.
“One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure,” Spike opined. “Or in this case a big pile of shit turned out to be really valuable as fertilizer for flowers…”
“You’re close,” Pel replied. “The greatest profits accrue to the conduit for the flow of goods and services from the greatest surplus to the greatest effective demand.”
“Is that one of the Rules of Acquisition?” Spike asked.
The diminutive ferengi shook his head. “The Grand Nagus Rom’s Commentary on Rules #3, 5, 7, 9, and, most importantly, 22.” He looked from side to side, then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “That actually comes from his mother. She’s the one with the lobes for business. But you didn’t hear that from me…”
Spike got a wicked gleam in her eyes: “Are you saying the Nagus isn’t all that bright?”
“Quite the reverse,” Pel retorted. “Rule #11: Never hesitate to profit from the labor and creativity of other people. But do not claim their creations as your own, unless you can get away with it.”
As they were speaking, an unusually powerfully built eadh approached their table.
Pel leaned toward Spike: “Rule 46. Beware of the shrewd customer…”
Nalconi had unusually brilliant blue plumage and a bright green vertical stripe painted on his beak-like mouth. His uniform was brilliant white with crimson epaulettes. The use of camouflage by the marines seemed quite strange to him. His eyes were black with white irises and black pupils, creating an unsettling effect. He was carrying a large, blue satchel.
“Trader Pel…”
“Martial Nalconi,” Pel responded.
“You did not disappoint,” Nalconi replied. “The flower arrangement you provided was easily the most splendid on record since the great climate shift. And Her Excellency noticed and rewarded me, as you predicted. Which triggers the bonus clause in our contract.”
The eadh courtier placed the satchel on the table. “You do want to count this?”
“It will be counted,” said Pel. “Just not here at this table. You and I should make a show of trusting each other. Even if it is only for the benefit of onlookers.”
“I have never had dealings with a self-described businessman,” responded Nalconi. “So I am unsure of the proper order of things.”
“And I have never had dealings with a royal martial.” Pel smiled. “So we are both making this up as we go along.”
Nalconi rolled his head, then shook it quickly, causing the bright blue feathers on his head to fluff out. “Your shuttle could not possibly move fast enough to have brought those flowers here from Choutbro before they reached full bloom. Your engines are not different from any I have ever seen. And these splendid, if strangely decorated warriors, are not your personal guard. They are here as much to watch over you as to protect you…”
“Nothing escapes your eye, Martial,” Pel confirmed. “These marines are the representatives of my business partners. And while a margin of the payment for my role in this ceremony is reimbursement for my effort, the vast majority of it is due to my business partners.”
“For getting you here from Choutbro in less than a day when for any ship made in the Oulheadhry, that voyage would take many a week. Your partners own a fast ship. A ship large enough to carry your shuttle as cargo. A shuttle that until 5 days ago belonged to a minor orseld bureaucrat and was not spaceworthy. But now is as fine a vessel as any in the Oulheadhry. Your partners are exceptional engineers and artists. And, if I am any judge, deadly and exceptionally well-armed warriors. I am correct?”
“I would not say that they are warriors, but rather that they have a small, very professional military force and they can take care of themselves when pressed to do so,” Pel responded. “They describe themselves as peaceful explorers. They are relying on me to develop relationships with potential business partners among your people.”
Nalconi’s head feathers turned slightly, revealing more crimson. His pupils dilated and he leaned in toward the minuscule ferengi. “So what is their purpose? Are they looking to expand into the Oulheadhry?”
“That would not be to their advantage,” said Pel. “Far more advantageous to trade with a stable business partner than to expend resources that are needed elsewhere trying to subjugate a populace that includes a superb warrior race such as yourselves. I think they should look upon you as potentially very valuable allies.”
“So you are not a hostile scout?” Nalconi asked.
“My role is to ensure that my partners do not inadvertently destabilize the Oulheadhry,” said Pel.
“Diplomat and businessman?” asked Nalconi.
“Diplomacy and commerce are inextricably intertwined,” Pel opined.
“You are going to Roundabout station,” Nalconi stated. It was not a question. “These docking vouchers will be very useful to you.” He patted the satchel and nudged it toward Pel. “Be very careful on that station. Things there are far less stable than anywhere else in the Oulheadhry. Order is not to be found in many places. You have been very, very useful to me, Trader Pel. I hope you will be useful to me again in the future. I will not come to your aid on that station, but you may use my name for whatever doors my name might open for you.”
7.6
