“I’ll do that now, Teena. I’ll let you know when I’m done, and we can try to get back on schedule,” Betta said.
“Thank you, Miss Reganta. Goodbye,” Teena said in a curt tone.
“Bye.”
First, she needed to find a toilet. Jumping up, Betta gasped at the sheer size of the room. It was larger than her old apartment, and there were two doors. One stood ajar, leading to what must be a sitting area. The other door was closed. As she walked slowly along thickly carpeted floors, she tried not to imagine anything too fancy. Pushing the door open, she was a little disappointed to find a simple shower stall and a functional toilet with a button for “Extended Suction.”
Betta shrugged, how great could a toilet be anyway?
The reader revealed nearly five thousand messages. Betta took a deep breath and projected all of them in succession while luxuriating on her couch in the sitting room. There was also an extended bar and kitchen off to her left. She convinced herself that she needed profit more than she needed sustenance, but deep down she knew that if she had access to real food she might do nothing more than eat.
One of her father’s notes detailed a new colony that was to be populated within a few decades. She’d caught on right away. This was the reason for the long stasis and where the most profit would come. This colony was one set on ideals. They were multi-species and peaceful. And priority was given to the wealthy and educated. As if that wasn’t enough, Betta’s Station would be the only real stop between Galatan One and most galactic travel. They would provide a last chance to resupply.
Most of the emails were from wealthy patrons looking for a respite from the colony ship. Then there were the rare ones that popped up.
The man—at least she assumed it was a man—on her screen had a greenish complexion. His face was mottled with multiple rivets in his skin that glittered and pulsated.
“I am Piltec Gif an Green. There are a large contingent of my people who wish to colonize Galatan One. They have no supply of mineral that aids in our reproduction, Asqul. I carry the highest quality of Asqul that will guarantee a safe birthing. I wish to set up a supply line with Betta’s Station.”
There were similar requests from all types of creatures Betta could not identify. She made notes to do some follow-up research. She also noted the more significant offers and sent contracts to those she couldn’t wait to put by Teena. The ones that caused her pause, she decided to let Teena evaluate. Even if Teena worked on the Pilo side, profit was God in their world.
Betta was nearly through the first thousand when the familiar vibrations below her belly button began again.
“Answer.”
“Miss Reganta?” Teena sounded agitated.
“Yes, Teena. I’m going through the backlog now—”
“The CEO from one of the power stations near Gregious Prime has notified us of his eminent arrival. He is demanding to see you. I can deny him docking privileges and send him on his way, if you’d like.”
Betta actually enjoyed the feeling of someone other than herself irritating Teena. “No. Let him dock. I’m sure we’re taking away from his Half-Holiday profits. I’ll let him rant a little to keep the peace.”
“As you say, Miss Reganta. Please note that this guy is a severe ass,” Teena said this in a tone that did nothing to conceal her anger. And that was better than her professional tone, Betta decided.
“That’s a shame.” Betta laughed. “I love a good ass.”
“There is nothing good about him, I assure you.”
“I get the feeling you’ve met him before?” Betta asked.
“He came here about twelve cycles ago, demanding that we sell the station to him. I made it clear that I had no authority to sell the property. He was quite… persistent.”
“It sounds like I ruined more than one plan. Let’s try to give him a good welcome. I don’t want to make enemies of the locals on my first day.”
There was a pause. “I will do what I can.”
Betta accessed the station’s systems with her reader and was immediately overwhelmed with data detailing every aspect of the station. It took her nearly twenty minutes to figure out how to access information on Power Station 0157. Jadis Ter was listed as the CEO and owner, though Pilo was heavily invested along with Drafer royalty. A clan called the D’pac Tac Clan. Power Station 0157 was an off-planet station that relayed power to the two mining colonies. Before Betta’s Station arrived, it was the only place for miners to enjoy R&R.
There were no clear documents detailing how Jadis Ter acquired ownership, which gave Betta the impression of some shady dealing that wasn’t legal enough to be captured officially. There were no records in the station’s database of his existence before this acquisition. She suspected that Jadis Ter was an alias, and that the Feds looked the other way due to the amount of profit he provided for Pilo.
Another twenty minutes and she saw the ETA of his vessel to be nearly an hour out. She linked the location of the docking bay to her phone and set a course.
Standing from the couch, Betta swayed for a moment, dizzy as she tried to get her bearings in the low gravity. She was weak and still recovering from dehydration. She forced herself toward the doorway that led to the station’s corridor. A holographic path was laid out so she didn’t lose her way.
Following the instructions, and the yellow path, she was soon at the lift and rising to deck 12. The door to dock 22 was open and two women and one man wearing the purple-grey uniform she had designed stood in a uniform line. The man was in front, the two women behind him. Each wore the utility belt with her rotating planet insignia.
An array of finger-sized foods populated a table nearby. A sitting area near the table looked newly arranged. At the end of the room, near the airlock, was Teena. Her dark pony-tail was slightly askew and looked frazzled, almost as if a breeze had tossed some of the strands in disarray. She held a tablet in hand and fervently entered data. At some point, a hand went through her hair in frustration, further putting her hair in disarray.
Betta furrowed her brow. What could possibly be holding so much of her attention?
Two men in the dark blue of Federation uniforms were positioned with pulse rifles at opposite ends of the airlock. Betta could see the outline of black armor beneath the official uniforms. For a moment, she was a little girl standing in a room full of pointed rifles.
It was only a moment. Just long enough for her to gather her strength and force her mind to task.
“We have time for introductions,” Betta said.
Teena’s eyes rose from the tablet. She seemed momentarily surprised by the presence of other people. “Introduce yourselves,” she said to them. “This is Betta Reganta. She pays your paychecks.”
Teena’s eyes returned to the tablet in her hands.
The Federation officers saluted. “We are here to serve and protect!” they said in unison.
Betta thanked him.
Their brown eyes and jutting chins made them seem like twins, except one had eyes a bit smaller than the other. One had a bulging nose that almost made Betta chuckle. However, she was glad to see the brown eyes and not the black of combat that was so prevalent in feds on Arys-27.
“I am Agent Kim, and this is Agent Weaver,” the agent with the large nose said. “This station is a catastrophic security risk breathing its final gasp before the end.”
Agent Weaver nodded in agreement.
Feds. Betta raised a brow to Teena, who kept her head in the tablet before her.