Playing Games
© 2021 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  ahro


“Are you sure you don’t want me coming with you, Ma’am?”

Balakrishnan smiled reassuringly at the antelope. “There’s no need for you to be there,” she said to the Political Officer, “and I’ll be making a full report to the Ministry when I get back.”

She was certain that the mel was angling for an opening that would enable him to slip into her job – right after slipping a knife between her ribs. Part of her thought that he deserved the job, provided that it led to either the shlani or his own enemies in the Foreign Ministry killing him themselves.

With a final nod, the Dhole-Akita slipped her padd into a pocket and left the small set of offices that constituted the Terran Embassy on Downtime Station.

Things had thawed somewhat between the Imperial and Terran forces aboard the station. Instead of two Constabulary officers at the access door, there was only one, and the door was already open. “Fair day,” the kam said in accented Terran.

“Narchak,” and after identifying herself Balakrishnan steadied herself and entered the lower gravity environment.

“Balakrishnan-jih! Narchak,” Navot k’Ven said in a cheerful tone. “Please, come in and sit.” As the canine complied, the vir’s tail gestured at the holographic pyramid floating over the table. “Did you ever play harēch when you were on Gwath ka-shlal?”

“Yes, I did.” Harēch was a game of strategy like Terran chess, with its basic form based on a four-sided three-dimensional solid. Winning was determined by having one player succeed in seizing all four vertices. More complex variants of the game increased the number of vertices to be fought over and controlled. “I found the game challenging, and a useful insight into the Kashlani.”

“Aka?”

“Yes,” Balakrishnan said, a wary expression on her face. “By taking all of the vertices, you are able to impose your will upon the loser.” One ear dipped. “By that measure, I feel that you may think you have already won.”

Navot smiled and made the half-completed game she’d been playing disappear. “Aka, the game is still being played. I wish to extend my condolences, Balakrishnan-vi.”

“What for?”

“The suicide of your Military Attaché.”

The canine gave a little start, just a flick of her ears, as if she hadn’t been expecting that. Of course, it was entirely possible that the Empire knew about it. “Thank you. He . . . was quite depressed.”

“I understand. I am told that he, ernnh – “

“He hanged himself, yes. Shall we get on with this meeting?”

The vir allowed herself a moment of pity for the canine femme before replying, “Yes, we should,” and the table interfaced with her padd and displayed a star map. “This is the current state of affairs between the Empire and the Confederacy.” Two areas were highlighted, and k’Ven added, “The incursion into our space has been repulsed, and we will not tolerate another. We – “

“Rest assured that I had nothing to do with that.”

“I am aware, yes. You are to be congratulated on your desire to ensure your race’s continued survival.”

Navot kept her expression neutral.

Let the game begin.


***


Gorietta was their next stop, a staging area and refit post for the Colonial Fleet. After dropping off their cargo, the convoy’s crews were all given a week’s liberty.

Which was very good, because Gorietta boasted a very nice climate, with some amenities that made it a welcoming place for travelers.

Provided, of course, that visitors complied with planetary customs, particularly those regarding dress.

“Gaia, I’m stifling in this,” Fuji grumbled for maybe the fifth time. The Komodo monitor was draped from head to toe in black cloth, with a slit in it to expose his eyes. There wasn’t even an opening for his tail.

Walking about one step in front of him and wearing only a belt, Meredith tsked at him. “It’s a custom,” the golden palomino mare reminded him. “Mels have to wear them out in public, or wherever a femme might see them.” She gave her short-cropped headfur a slight toss. “I like how femmes are dressed this year.”

“You would,” the burqa-clad Fuji said. “I do like having to walk one step behind you, though.”

“Oh?”

“I get to look at your rear while I die of heat exhaustion,” the monitor said.

Her tail swiped across his legs. “Hush, you,” and Meredith giggled as they made their way down the street. Natives walked by, the women wearing a belt like Meredith or a baldric that contained necessary items, while the men walked respectfully after them, cloaked in black. “No one else is complaining.”

“I’m not a native.”

“True. Tell you what – after I get some shopping done, we’ll head back to the hostel and you can cool off.”

“That’d be great.”

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” Meredith stopped as a short but well-muscled feline femme raised a paw. The tabby had a variety of pouches on her belt, and an armband bearing the planet’s police insignia. She glanced at Fuji and asked, “Is this mel being a bother?”

“Hm? Oh! No, not at all,” Meredith assured the policefur. “He’s my lover.”

The feline perked her ears at Meredith’s accent, and smiled. “You’re visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Please remind him to keep a more respectful tone when in public, please.” She gave the monitor a glare.

“I will,” the mare said.

“ID, please?” Meredith drew her padd from her belt and showed the officer her identification. Fuji’s was also displayed, and the tabby logged a contact report. “Blessed day, Ma’am,” she said, giving Meredith’s padd back to her before going on her way.

Fuji took a breath. “That was – “

“Yeah.” His equine lover thought for a moment. “But we’re guests here, so we have to play by their rules, okay?”

“Okay.” She could almost see him smile behind his veil. “But I will want to be pampered when we get back to our room.”

Meredith grinned. “I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you pass out. For now, though, there’s a shopping center over there, so let’s go.”

“Okay.”

“And one step behind me, Fuji.”

“Yeah, one step behind.”