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Mercantile Fellowship
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
Ahro
Meredith blinked at the message on her padd, and as she shifted Jinzi to her other breast she read the message again. At his desk beside hers, Fuji asked, “Something wrong?”
“We’re having guests coming,” the golden palomino mare said, “From God’s Armpit and Jihaka.”
“God’s Armpit?” the monitor echoed. “Transcosm’s headquarters?”
His mate nodded. “And Jihaka houses the main office for Imperial Chartering.”
Fuji grimaced. Imperial Chartering was a Mercantile Fellowship, one of many such conglomerates in Kashlanin space. Before the war, it had formed a partnership with Transcosm, and those ties were only strengthened after hostilities had ended. Part of the reason that Meredith had an office on Downtime Station was the need to further the relationship.
Transcosm had also expressed a desire to start shipping supplies for the Support Branch of the Imperial military. A huge increase in revenue was expected if the two governments agreed to the arrangement.
“Any idea why they’re coming?” he asked.
Meredith stroked her daughter’s head as she suckled. “Seems that the Imperial military has agreed to the contract between Transcosm and Chartering,” and she paused as Fuji whistled. “Yeah, it’s a huge contract, so each side’s sending members of their top leadership.”
“What are you supposed to do? Look pretty?”
“You think I can’t do that?”
“Of course you can’t,” Fuji chuckled. “You’re beautiful, not pretty, and far too smart for that. What?” he asked as she eyed him critically.
“I can see you . . . hm, real tight thong, in red,” Meredith said, “with glitter dusting your scales.”
The monitor started laughing. “Really? Hold that thought, your birthday will be coming up soon.” The two grinned at each other. “But getting back to my question?”
“Well, we’re to have the office at their disposal for any administrative problems,” Meredith replied, “as well as join them for meals and meetings.”
“Seems fairly straightforward,” Fuji said, “but these Fellowships are like families.”
Meredith frowned. “I recall you saying something like that.”
“Yeah, so whoever they send, don’t rough them too hard.”
“Good advice.”
Jinzi let go of the nipple she’d been suckling, burped gently, and began to doze.
***
God’s Armpit was closer to Downtime Station than Jihaka, so Transcosm’s representative would be arriving first, and Meredith tapped a hoof as she watched the transport dock. After the ship was securely docked and the airlocks started to cycle, the golden palomino mare made her way to the arrival lounge.
“Xin-jih!” she said as a bull made his way into the lounge. Xin Renmin was Transcosm’s Operations Director. She approached him and said, “Fair day, sir. I’m Meredith d’Estcourt.”
“Oh yes, a pleasure to meet you again,” the bovine said as he smiled. “Fair day, d’Estcourt-jih.”
“How was your trip?” she asked.
“A little tedious.” He gave an embarrassed smile and rubbed the back of his head with a paw. “I haven’t been off-planet in years, and I felt a little claustrophobic.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Meredith said.
“Oh?”
“The quarters I picked out for your stay overlook the park, so there’ll be some space for you to feel comfortable with.”
“Excellent choice. Thank you.”
She gestured, and they started walking out of the lounge and into the corridor leading into the station. “Is that the new fashion on God’s Armpit?” she asked.
“This?” The bull was wearing a form-fitting white shirt that left his midriff exposed, and an almost garishly bright orange kilt with an assortment of pockets on it. “Yes, it’s the latest in unisex. Why?”
“I was thinking that my mate would look good in it,” she chuckled.
The bull grinned, and after they entered one of the residential blocks he asked, “When is Director m’Zhurok due to arrive?”
“Last information had him arriving in two days,” Meredith replied. “Here are your quarters, Xin-jih,” she added, stopping at a door, and she fished a card from a pocket in her skirt. “Here’s the key. I’ll give you some time to settle in.”
“Thank you, d’Estcourt-jih. I do feel a little tired, and I’ll call you in a few hours.”
“Yes, sir.”
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
AhroMeredith blinked at the message on her padd, and as she shifted Jinzi to her other breast she read the message again. At his desk beside hers, Fuji asked, “Something wrong?”
“We’re having guests coming,” the golden palomino mare said, “From God’s Armpit and Jihaka.”
“God’s Armpit?” the monitor echoed. “Transcosm’s headquarters?”
His mate nodded. “And Jihaka houses the main office for Imperial Chartering.”
Fuji grimaced. Imperial Chartering was a Mercantile Fellowship, one of many such conglomerates in Kashlanin space. Before the war, it had formed a partnership with Transcosm, and those ties were only strengthened after hostilities had ended. Part of the reason that Meredith had an office on Downtime Station was the need to further the relationship.
Transcosm had also expressed a desire to start shipping supplies for the Support Branch of the Imperial military. A huge increase in revenue was expected if the two governments agreed to the arrangement.
“Any idea why they’re coming?” he asked.
Meredith stroked her daughter’s head as she suckled. “Seems that the Imperial military has agreed to the contract between Transcosm and Chartering,” and she paused as Fuji whistled. “Yeah, it’s a huge contract, so each side’s sending members of their top leadership.”
“What are you supposed to do? Look pretty?”
“You think I can’t do that?”
“Of course you can’t,” Fuji chuckled. “You’re beautiful, not pretty, and far too smart for that. What?” he asked as she eyed him critically.
“I can see you . . . hm, real tight thong, in red,” Meredith said, “with glitter dusting your scales.”
The monitor started laughing. “Really? Hold that thought, your birthday will be coming up soon.” The two grinned at each other. “But getting back to my question?”
“Well, we’re to have the office at their disposal for any administrative problems,” Meredith replied, “as well as join them for meals and meetings.”
“Seems fairly straightforward,” Fuji said, “but these Fellowships are like families.”
Meredith frowned. “I recall you saying something like that.”
“Yeah, so whoever they send, don’t rough them too hard.”
“Good advice.”
Jinzi let go of the nipple she’d been suckling, burped gently, and began to doze.
***
God’s Armpit was closer to Downtime Station than Jihaka, so Transcosm’s representative would be arriving first, and Meredith tapped a hoof as she watched the transport dock. After the ship was securely docked and the airlocks started to cycle, the golden palomino mare made her way to the arrival lounge.
“Xin-jih!” she said as a bull made his way into the lounge. Xin Renmin was Transcosm’s Operations Director. She approached him and said, “Fair day, sir. I’m Meredith d’Estcourt.”
“Oh yes, a pleasure to meet you again,” the bovine said as he smiled. “Fair day, d’Estcourt-jih.”
“How was your trip?” she asked.
“A little tedious.” He gave an embarrassed smile and rubbed the back of his head with a paw. “I haven’t been off-planet in years, and I felt a little claustrophobic.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Meredith said.
“Oh?”
“The quarters I picked out for your stay overlook the park, so there’ll be some space for you to feel comfortable with.”
“Excellent choice. Thank you.”
She gestured, and they started walking out of the lounge and into the corridor leading into the station. “Is that the new fashion on God’s Armpit?” she asked.
“This?” The bull was wearing a form-fitting white shirt that left his midriff exposed, and an almost garishly bright orange kilt with an assortment of pockets on it. “Yes, it’s the latest in unisex. Why?”
“I was thinking that my mate would look good in it,” she chuckled.
The bull grinned, and after they entered one of the residential blocks he asked, “When is Director m’Zhurok due to arrive?”
“Last information had him arriving in two days,” Meredith replied. “Here are your quarters, Xin-jih,” she added, stopping at a door, and she fished a card from a pocket in her skirt. “Here’s the key. I’ll give you some time to settle in.”
“Thank you, d’Estcourt-jih. I do feel a little tired, and I’ll call you in a few hours.”
“Yes, sir.”
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Horse
Size 71 x 120px
File Size 39.5 kB
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