Haven

Light poured into Primath’s berth, immediately waking him from his slumber. His eyes ached and he covered them up with his paws.

“We’re in orbit around the Grand Duchy of Haven, your shuttle is ready, sir.”

Primath didn’t know which of the attendants spoke. With his head pounding and eyes burning, somehow even his nose was not capable of detecting who was before him just that he didn’t smell his brother on their fur.

“Thank you.”

His head was still spinning, FTL travel was never comfy. Hallucinations, both visual and audible, some folks even claim that their memories were changed by it. A constant ding-ding-ding disrupted Primath’s attempts at sleep during it, something he wrote off as being a creation of this known phenomena, but when he checked his datapad he found the cause of it.

Hundreds of Jolts harassing his account. Calling him all sorts of names since the aftermath of the interview and the mockery of him. Most were led by an account with a granite statue of the Eastern Regulian Emperor Areth I with the name “TRAD TIGER LIFESTYLE,” especially obsessed with inferring that Primath was a cuckold, despite Primath having no mates.

“COMMIT SUICIDE TO REDEEM YOUR DEGENERATED BLOOD.”

Primath shut off his datapad, ignoring Jolt, and managed to shake himself out of the berth, pushing the curtain aside. He was alone in the passenger chamber now, Uloth had left already he figured.

Primath spent most of his time in his berth since the humiliation for the week, opting only to leave to use the washroom and refraining from showering even while there. There was no ignoring the sulphuric tinge to his musk now, which clung to every bit of fur and his pink suit, the only set of clothing he brought with him and was now covered with crumbs and drink stains.

Fuck, I look like Quroth after an OD…

Ignoring the state of his affairs, Primath forced himself up. A beacon of lights ran across the ceiling towards the open airlock just past the lounge. He picked himself up and staggered, following the lights.

Uloth was standing up straight in the corner of the airlock’s chamber, his tan uniform somehow looking as clean and sharp as before. Primath hadn’t talked with him since the argument and the humiliation before take-off and Uloth only served to twist the knife more by looking down at him with soft eyes.

Eyes of pity.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Fine,” Primath grit his teeth and leaned up against the wall of the airlock, shutting the door behind him. A hiss of air rushed through the vents and an amber light began to flash beside him.

“You sure?”

Again, more pity. This was another form of Regulian toxicity, Primath figured. He was being treated now like a slave who had been punished and now was being given love, a way of manipulation that served to make the servile obey the master just as an abused cub obeyed his father.

“I’m fine,” Primath repeated.

“Alright.”

The amber light turned blue and the airlock clicked. Primath pulled it open with a hiss of air and a narrow seating room aboard a shuttle greeted him. There were two rows of seats with four places to sit on each. Both brothers chose different rows.

From Primath’s window, he saw the dusty planet of Haven, bathed orange in its massive sun. A far better view than Uloth got, who had to pull the blinds down to prevent himself from being blinded by said sun.

The pilot spoke, his voice echoing from speakers in the room, but neither brother paid attention. They waited in silence until the ground rumbled beneath them and a cloud of dust kicked up across their windows, obscuring any view of the farm or the manor grounds.

“Thank you for flying with-”

The speaker cut out and a staircase folded out from beneath the floor, revealing the ramp leading out. Dust immediately began to billow into the craft and the two brothers held their breath and charged down before they were suffocated.

Coughing, Primath covered his mouth with one paw and swept the dust away from his face with the other. He couldn’t tell where he was going or so much as smell his brother so as to avoid him.

Luck blessed Primath when he practically ran into the planet’s spaceport terminal, for lack of a better word. It was really just a waiting room and a souvenir shop, the latter of which would serve his needs quite well.

To Primath’s surprise, the glass doors to the store were open and he pulled them aside, entering.

Unsold, dusty merchandise ran across the walls and aisles. T-shirts, backpacks, slave collars; all bearing System to System or Haven’s branding on them. Most disturbing of all to Primath’s eyes was the crate of plush toys all based on him and his brothers when they were younger, cuter, and more marketable. 90% off, a steal for merch that hadn’t been printed in over a decade.

“Oh fuck…” a voice whispered, followed by harsh coughing. A brown Vulpeculan with heavy bags under his eyes, visible even with his thick fur, was behind the cash register. Thin smoke hovered in the air around him, an acrid scent lingered, and the whites of the alien’s eyes were pink.

“No harm,” Primath sighed and planted his palms on the counter. The slave had a leather collar around his neck with a metal plate referring to him as Lowlife. “Indica or sativa?”

“Uh…”

“I’m not my dad, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Indica.”

“Okay if I share a hit?”

Lowlife reached under the desk and pulled out a fat, white joint. Primath pinched it between his fingers, pressed it to his lips and slowly inhaled.

It tasted like burnt fur and smelled the same, but Primath could feel his anxiety float away the moment the smoke hit his lungs.

After a good few seconds, Primath exhaled off to the side.

“Lowlife, eh? You got a preferred name?”

“It’s my only name, master.”

“I mean, what about be-”

“Look, I get it, you’re cool, but I’ll get in huge trouble with the boss if you continue.”

“Alright, alright.”

Primath took another hit.

“Sales look like they ain’t doing so well.”

“Yeah, well, keep that a secret from the boss. I don’t want to get sent into the fields.”

“My father?”

“Your brother.”

“Daglow, yeah,” Primath nodded at the items for sale. “Not telling him anything, it’s cool.”

“Dunno why there’s even a store here, you know?” the slave took his turn on the joint and moaned as he exhaled. “No tourists…”

“Used to be an all-inclusive, sorta.”

“Yeah?” the Vulpeculan looked out the window at the dry fields.

“Targeted towards the upper-middle class. A sorta…be a field slave for two weeks package.”

“Fucking hell…why would anyone wanna do that?”

“Folks are weird I guess,” Primath sighed. “Package heavily implied that the other slaves, hardened ones with rippling muscles from tough days in the fields, might take advantage of the tourists, you know? In a way that certain horny rich folk might like?”

“Oh my God.”

“But uh, well, turned out the slaves did take to hazing the assholes who came here, just it was in the form of wrapping them in carpet and beating them with sacks of potatoes,” Primath took the joint and narrowed his eyes. “And that, my friend, is why there’s a souvenir shop and no tourists.”

“Not that I’m complaining or nothing, it’s an easy gig, but why keep it staffed?”

“Who knows? I told father a million times not to go into tourism, it made no sense for our tech brand and we didn’t have the experience to make it work. Guess I was right.”

Primath sighed, leaning his hip against the counter and slowly swaying his tail, “You saw my interview?”

“The boss doesn’t let us use the Extranet.”

“But did you see it?” Primath pressed a claw to his lips. “Ain’t a snitch, like I said.”

“Yeah.”

“How bad was I? Honestly?”

“Look, uh…” the slave backed up a step, tapping against the wall behind him, “...I mean, at least you’re trying.”

“At least I’m trying?”

“Yeah, lots of folks don’t even do that,” the slave closed his eyes and sighed. “At least you’re trying.”

“At least I’m trying,” Primath repeated, nodding his head.

“Yeah.”

“At least I’m trying.”

The words, contrary to most such cases, grew more meaningful to Primath with each utterance. The elite and the cynical alike could find fault with his attempts, but no matter what, he now figured he was doing something more than most people. All it took was talking to a beleaguered slave to set his mind right.

Primath gave the slave a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Thank you, I needed that,” Primath looked around. “How much for a t-shirt and pants?”

“Uh…we have t-shirts and swimshorts, does that work?”

“Sure, anything other than this suit, I’m a wreck.”

“Might wanna just take whatever you like from the inventory in the back, your family owns the place after all.”

“Ah, but I don’t want freebies just because of my family name. So, how much?”

“No, seriously! I insist.”

“And I insist that I pay,” Primath stood his ground firmly, towering over the slave with his display of benevolence. “Please ring me up.”

With his tail tucked between his legs, the slave tapped on the datapad and presented the bill. Primath paid up with a mere tap of his card.

“Thank you,” Primath said.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Heading over the shelf, Primath picked up a white t-shirt advertising the Haven Ranch, showing a herd of Equuleian slaves waving, and a blue pair of swim trunks.

“Okay if I change here?” Primath asked.

“You can change wherever.”

Primath could not help but wonder if the slave, perhaps influenced by the marijuana, had some attraction to him. He made a mental note to return to the gift shop before leaving as he removed his suit, making sure the slave got a good view of his chest and crotch.

It would be a good match, Primath figured. A slave and the progressive child of the family, let the news find a problem with that!

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The dust cloud was not dissimilar from the ones that hit Beta Carinae when the wind picked up and Uloth, though he was often absent from his post, was well-used to navigating such perils. This, along with a near-perfect memory of the family planet, allowed him to reach the front steps of the homestead without issue.

There was little need for fencing and security. The planet was entirely the property of the t’Osgars and the slaves were kept in their place. Many times the front door was not even locked and this was one such occasion.

With a push of the door, Uloth emerged from the blindness of the outside and into the light of the home.

And found himself instead blinded once again by the cloud of chaos.

The entry-room was covered in tossed and torn furniture. The floorboards, once so shiny and rich, were pried up as if someone was searching for hidden treasure. The wallpaper, once depicting a black and gold imperial geometric design, was torn to shreds and holes had been punched and kicked into the walls.

“Daglow!” Uloth bellowed. “What have you done!?”

A sharp yelp echoed throughout the house and Uloth’s ears were quickly able to trace them to the den.

“B-brother!” Daglow called out as Uloth spun to the right, through an open doorway. “Come back later, this isn’t a good time!”

The hallway Uloth entered into was in better shape, but there were still a line of holes marking the walls. At the very least, none of the floorboards had been pulled up yet so there were less tripping hazards.

“This is a great time, brother!” Uloth flexed his fists as he stomped down towards the third door on the right.

“No, it’s not!” the door practically shook as Daglow whined.

Behind the door, there was a rush of footsteps and the crystal doorknob shook just before Uloth could touch it. It was now held firm and would not budge.

“Daglow, I’m going to kick the door down if you don’t let me in.”

“The door’s jammed!” Daglow begged. “Really, it’s not a good time!”

Uloth sniffed, catching wind of the smell of burning paper.

“Well, if it’s jammed, let me help you out!”

“NO!”

Taking two steps back, Uloth inhaled and charged forward, crashing into the door with his shoulder. It only took one blow for it to fall from its hinges and crash to the floor.

A fire with blackened paper was roaring in the stone fireplace. Daglow had left the door and was now on the other side of the room, papers clutched in his claws. The Lupiad’s blue eyes were wide with panic and his black fur was puffed up on all ends.

“Daglow, what the hell?” Uloth asked, stepping closer.

“DON’T!” Daglow ordered. “I’ll do it!”

Uloth didn’t take another step further but Daglow was still triggered to act. The Lupiad stuffed a paw-full of paper into his maw and began noisily chewing, sending spittle and pulp all over the place.

“Stop that!” Uloth slapped his paws across his adopted brother’s muzzle. “What the hell are you doing!?”

Daglow’s throat pulsated as he continued attempting to swallow the paper within his maw.

With his paws firmly in place, Uloth tried to look at the scattered, surviving papers, but couldn’t make heads or tails of them without having a paw free to sift through them.

“Are these, dad’s secret documents?” Uloth asked. “Grunt once for yes and grunt two for-”

Daglow immediately grunted.

“Okay, that’s ye-”

Another grunt followed from the Lupiad, followed by a strange rattling noise in his chest. Daglow began to slap at Uloth’s chest.

“I don’t know what that means, let’s stick to yes and no, okay?”

Daglow’s chest heaved and his nostrils flared breathlessly. He reached up to his neck, wrapping his paw around it.

“He’s choking!” Primath called out from the doorway.

Uloth looked back for a second, surprised at his brother’s sudden appearance and his new clothes, but then immediately got to work.

Spinning Daglow around, Uloth wrapped his fists together and placed them between the Lupiad’s ribs.

“One!”

Uloth thrust his fists into Daglow’s chest to no success.

“Two!”

Another thrust. A gurgling, tiny breath uttered from Daglow’s mouth. Not enough.

“Three!”

Bones snapped but Daglow could not scream.

“Four!”

A ball of wet paper shot out and rolled onto the ground before Primath’s shoes. Daglow alternated gasping for air and screaming in pain as Uloth helped him sit down on a chair before the desk.

“You broke my…” Daglow clutched at his chest, “...fucking ribs!”

“He saved your life, you little ingrate!” Primath picked up the wad of spit-covered paper. He flinched as he began to unwrap it. “And all for what?”

Narrowing his eyes, Primath looked over what remained of the ink.

“Almond trees?” Primath asked, confused.

Daglow crossed his arms onto the desk surface and buried his snout into them, sobbing.

“Avocado…eucalyptus?” Primath continued. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s just so easy for you, isn’t it!?” Daglow snapped his jaws, snot running from his black nose. “You three, all so perfect and Regulian!”

“You’re not making any sense,” Uloth pushed past Daglow and looked over the papers on the desk. “These are all expense receipts.”

“I was trying to make the farm profitable!” Daglow whined. “I was trying to make it more than just a vacation home! I wanted to turn this dust bowl green, turn it into a garden of lush orchards!”

“The farm isn’t supposed to be profitable!” Primath growled. “It’s supposed to just be a place to relax and to film family addresses so we look like small farmers and not tech monopolists!”

“The groundwater isn’t sufficient…” Uloth’s eyes went wide as he continued reading the expenses, “...oh I see you’ve thought of that.”

Daglow returned to his arm fortress and sobbed.

“What did he do?” Primath edged over, sharing the report with his brother.

“Ice meteor,” Uloth shook his head. “He ordered an ice meteor to be dropped on Haven.”

Primath blinked, “You can order an ice meteor?”

“Apparently.”

“How much did that cost?”

Daglow screamed.

“A lot.”

Primath tapped his claw on the document, “Cheaper than I thought but yes, a lot.”

“I’m not sure why he was destroying these though,” Uloth pondered. “It’s a financial mistake, sure, but it’s just a mere drop in the bucket for our family.”

“I may have…” Daglow swallowed, “...used government farming subsidies for it.”

“For the ice meteor?”

“And reported it as fertilizer, I mean, it kind of is.”

“No,” Uloth said, “it’s not.”

“So, you’re just,” Primath rubbed at his temple, “doing some tax and subsidy evasion?”

Daglow nodded.

“Burn away, then.”

Daglow looked over at Uloth.

“It is…” Uloth shrugged, “...sort of a noble pastime in the Empire. I guess you are really part of the family after all.”

“Oh thank fuck!” Daglow gasped. “I thought I was in huge trouble!”

“Wait, why did you dig up the floorboards then?” Primath looked out in the hallway.

“I forget where I put everything.”