Eggs and Commercials

Dustin hadn’t been sure what to expect from the hatching. He knew from past discussions with both Trea’k and others that Vex’ess’s initial grub forms were different yet again from anything he’d seen when he visited with the leader of the insectoid race, but he was also unsure if Trea’k being an envoy rather than a queen would mean there was anything special about what was about to extract itself from the eggs in front of him.

After that first crack, others followed. One by one, the shells that had cocooned them for some time broke open and the new-born Vex’ess emerged. Small, pale green and moving unsteadily on a multitude of limbs, the grubs freed themselves before lining up with a scary amount of precision for freshly hatched infants. Dustin glanced to the side as the last of the tiny clutch joined the line, raising an eyebrow at Trea’k.

The envoy smiled back at him. “All newly hatched Vex’ess hold the genetic memory to be mobile far faster than is normal for the infants of other species, my mate. Do not be so surprised; they will likely outpace our daughter’s development for the first year or so as a result.” Leaning forward, Trea’k gently ran a hand caressingly across the heads of her new brood, her smile deepening as the grubs chirped up at her.

Straightening, she turned to Dustin and half-bowed. “Thank you for being here for their hatching, my mate. For now, they will need little save food and water, which this room already has dispensers pre-prepared for thanks to our beloved Rye. The first few months are always a time for them to gain control over their genetic understanding; there is little we can do beyond visit with them from time to time to check on their progress.”

Dustin nodded slowly. The idea of just abandoning the infants to raise themselves was at odds with the way his entire species handled things, but he recognized that not all the races in the galaxy would follow the same path. “Alright. What about after that?” He asked, leaning in to gently lift a limb of one of the grubs that’d managed to get it stuck in a loop of the silken strands that lined the crater. He didn’t need to - the tiny mind had already been halfway to freedom on it’s own, backing up what Trea’k had said - but the instinct to parent was strong given his own recent fatherhood.

Trea’k shrugged. “At that point, I will move them to be with C’harl’ette. Those who will have mentors will also hopefully start to spend time with the ladies in question when they come to visit the nursery. Then, it will be the matter of a few years as it will for our daughter before they will be ready to start their studies formally. I could accelerate the process, and indeed it would be traditionally right to do so for a newly formed hive but…” The Vex’ess woman paused, then shook her head. “You remember why I did not form a hive before, my mate? That same caution, though I have now excised it for the most part still makes me want to let them grow up slowly, as your other offspring do.”

Dustin hesitated. “My other offspring? Trea’k, aren’t these ones pure Vex’ess?” The insect woman nodded, a momentary hesitation in her eyes as she looked at him searchingly. Dustin had spent long enough around his lovers to read her intent without words and smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “Your species doesn’t really do fatherhood, does it?”

The envoy shook her head, her eyes moving back to the slowly moving infants before them. Dustin chuckled to himself. “Well, we can’t have some of C’harl’ette’s brothers and sisters growing up with only a mom, can we? You want me to think of them as my own, don’t you?” Trea’k’s answering nod was even more hesitant, the usual calm of the insectoid woman cracking under Dustin’s questioning smile.

Dustin paused, sorting out his thoughts for a moment before nodding decisively. “As if I could think of them any other way,” he said, pulling Trea’k in closer and wrapping her in his arms. “Just because you didn’t use my genetics to make them doesn’t mean they’re any less my kids, love. Now, why don’t we sit down and you can talk me through which of my new sons and daughters are going to be getting trained by which of our friends and lovers?”

Returning to the bridge some time later, Dustin glanced over at where Sammie was steering the ship before sinking into his seat. The discussion with Trea’k had filled most of the remainder of the transit time, his arrival on the bridge coinciding with the commencement of the countdown to return to real space.

As the timer concluded and the Arof system appeared on the viewscreen, Dustin straightened up in his chair. He’d expected the system to be less hidden than the Olanse; the other species that the lizard folk had extended their concealment towards all kept their hiding systems disengaged unless an unexpected weave jump was detected. In the case of Sola, Emely had sent a message prior to their departure from the previous system, and so the entire expanse of the Arof home star was now spread out before them in all it’s glory.

The first impression Dustin got was how much it reminded him of holofilms he’d seen that were set in Vegas. Glowing billboards floated in space, the whole system a mess of interconnecting space-stations and worlds with transit routes lined by advertisements. As Sola drifted into an approach path towards the seat of Arof government in response to a communication from traffic control, the scale of trade going on became apparent.

Every lane, even the priority one they had been allocated was congested. Not by individual massive craft the way the Velcan or Rabyth home systems would have been, but by hundreds of thousands of tiny vessels, each only marginally bigger than a shuttle. Cargo haulers were present as well, both the small forms of inner-system transit as well as larger star-hopping vessels, but the bulk of the traffic swarming around the system was those small independent craft.

The adverts themselves shifted and changed as Sola flew. One moment, a billboard twice the height of the starship showed an enthusiastic looking young Arof being offered food by a parent, lights flashing around what was apparently a price cut offered by a retailer. The next, the image changed to a pair of Arof from a different breed piloting a starship, Sola’s translator supplying information that the text at the bottom of the advert indicated it was from a taxi firm offering transport between the different worlds.

Dustin stared in bemusement at the sheer scale of things. With everything he’d been told about the canids, he’d expected commercialism - haggling and negotiation at the least; he hadn’t expected to fly into what seemed to be a galactic shopping mall. The expressions on the faces of the other senior staff across the bridge suggested they were just as shocked by the mercantile nature of the system, Emely hastily reviewing her notes for the upcoming meeting in light of this new information.

The Arof homeworld wasn’t their seat of government - that much had been made clear to them by the diplomatic information they’d gained from the other species they’d visited. Instead, a vast station orbited the canid’s first world, leaving the planet to be overtaken by an endless expanse of storage units and warehouses holding a truly gigantic network of small businesses.

Rye looked out of the viewscreen with a bemused expression on her face as they moved around the planet’s orbit to dock at their destination. “It’s not too far from historical records of Rabythion,” she murmured as Dustin moved to stand besides her. “Ya know, from when my people overpopulated. Though even then, we didn’t poison the water to that extent. The Arof really do seem to put trade above everything else, don’t they?”