FINANCIAL FREEDOM
A Tech Infantry Novella
by
Edward Stasheff & Marcus Johnston
Copyright © 2011

 

Chapter 9: Future Projections

(click here for galactic map)

 

It took Heth almost two weeks to finally reach Purrfang, the capitol system of the K'Nes Llan.  The Bountiful was limited to traveling through commercial hyperspace lanes, and they stopped to trade in nearly every system they passed through (they pretty much had to, or Heth would have a mutiny on his hands).  It was times like this when Heth missed his old super-freighter Avarice (and its fast gravity drive) more than ever—time, after all, was money.

But the wait had been worth it.  There was a reason Heth jumped at every excuse to visit Purrfang: it was a breathtaking sight, especially from orbit.  Now he stared out the porthole of a drop shuttle approaching Purrfang, a tiny blue-green moon orbiting the massive red orb of the gas giant T'Ssowll, the Sky Father.  It was like a enormous ball of flame in the darkness; the massive red, orange, and yellow bands of gas clouds swirled slowly in endless waves.  After weeks in black space, the colors were dazzling.

The moment he and M'Rowr stepped off the shuttle into the Awuon City spaceport, Heth instantly, instinctively felt—no, he knew­­—this was the K'Nes homeworld.  "Ah…" he purred.  "It's good to be home."

"What, you were born here?"  M'Rowr shot him a puzzled look.

"Well… no," Heth admitted.  "I was born and raised on Nhur, just like you."  The Miao corporate clan's home colony was a lifeless snowball in space; not exactly a tourist destination.  "But I've been to Purrfang a few times on business," Heth continued, "and… well, can't you feel it?  The gravity, the temperature, the air… it's perfect!  Comfortable, even.  You can tell this is the place where our species evolved—we were meant to live here.  This is our planet."

"Moon," M'Rowr corrected.  Heth shot him an exasperated glance, but said nothing,

The two cats stepped out of the spaceport onto the soft, reddish-purple grass growing between buildings—a species that floated had no need of paved roads—and stopped short, looking around at the biggest K'Nes metropolis in the universe, awed into silence.

This was the birthplace of K'Nes civilization, and here, more than anywhere else, the evidence of human occupation had been torn down with the speed only profit could motivate.  Gone were the imposing statues and eternal flames, the military flags and propaganda posters.  They had been replaced by the highest form of K'Nes artwork: the advertisement.  Every available surface promoted a company or product.  Billboards glowed, blinked, flashed, and screamed their wares; holographic advertisements practically muscled each other aside, vying desperately for the attention of passersby.  It was gaudy, garish, chaotic… and so very beautiful.

"Well, little cuz," M'Rowr smiled.  "Ready to fly?"

"Without that heavy helium tank?"  Heth flashed a fang-filled grin. "Try and stop me!"

It took all of two seconds to find a merchant selling bottled water—at exorbitant prices, of course, pure spaceway robbery.  Yet the crafty K'Nes peddler knew tourists to Purrfang wanted to fly—not just hover or float, fly—and to do that, they needed water… and Heth and M'Rowr were no different from the thousand of other visitors willing to pay a convenience premium.  Heth paid for M'Rowr's bottle, of course; his mangy older cousin was chronically short of disposable income (he had two litters to feed on a pilot's salary, after all).

"Thanks, cuz!" M'Rowr said, ripping the lid off.  He held the bottle up in a toast.  "To peace and a free Llan!"

"Indeed!" Heth agreed, tapping bottles, and then the two cats chugged, tossing away the empty containers (instantly retrieved by the water peddler to be sanitized and reused).  Heth and M'Rowr's bellies gurgled as a biological form of electrolysis converted the water to hydrogen for lift and oxygen for propellant.  There bodies began to swell until they were almost spherical, their elastic suits stretching with them, and they rose up into the air where the red glow of Sky Father seemed to fill half the heavens.  They lifted their long tails and squeezed out enough oxygen to build up some speed, then relaxed and let the gentle breeze carry them along.  They bushed their tails up and caught the wind, guiding themselves between the buildings.

It was springtime on Purrfang, warm and humid but not yet sweltering, and the perfume of pollen and stench of industry created a unique scent, sweet and profitable.  Heth closed his eyes and relished the feel of sunlight on his face and wind ruffling his fur.  That's something you don't get in deep space!  Heth purred happily.

And he had a good reason to be happy.  Sure, he'd cleared his name, been promoted, closed trade deals, and was meeting the LEO of the K'Nes Llan... but the main reason was that Miu was on Purrfang too, meeting with investors—and she'd agreed to a business appointment with Heth later that day.  He was already planning out the evening in the back of his mind.

"Y'know, M'Rowr… if I do re-merge with Miu, we might move here to raise our cubs."

"Then you'll need a lot more money!" M'Rowr scoffed.  "You know how much Purrfang real estate costs?"

M'Rowr had talked his way into tagging along by arguing that Heth needed a bodyguard, and Heth had humored his older cousin (what K'Nes didn't want to visit their homeworld, after all?).  True, M'Rowr had been in the K'Nes Tor Army—back when there was one—but that was eight years ago, before the Human Occupation, and Heth wasn't sure how much good the older and fatter M'Rowr would be in a fight these days.  Still, Heth was mildly surprised to see M'Rowr taking his role seriously, carefully looking around with a watchful eye… even if he did sporadically pause to admire his reflection as they passed the occasional glass window.

The pair drifted through the swarms of busy K'Nes flying to and fro.  It was clear the mating season was approaching; the amount of jewelry on display was staggering.  From ledges and alcoves on the buildings above, K'Nes vendors hawked their merchandise and customers haggled.  Heth noticed the price of grilled rodent-on-a-stick had gone up again.

Heth turned to M'Rowr with a grin.  "So… ready to meet Varrless K'Pirr, the richest K'Nes alive?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess."  M'Rowr licked his whiskers nervously.  "Just remember, boss… be real careful with Varrless.  I hear he's not the kind of K'Nes whose fur you wanna rub the wrong way."

"Yes, M'Rowr."  Heth rolled his eyes, exasperated.  The idea of taking business advice from M'Rwor was ridiculous.  "I'm well aware that Pirr takes an aggressive negotiating stance and has a rather… forceful management style."

"Ya got that right!" M'Rowr spat.  "I hear Varrless doesn't like to lose, and will do anything to cop a credit."  He lowered his voice.  "Look, boss, word is this K'Nes takes cutthroat competition to a new level.  There are rumors, y'know…"

"Yes, I know," Heth sighed, bored but humoring his cousin.  "I've heard all the rumors, M'Rowr, and place no stock in them."

"His sire did die kinda sudden," M'Rowr pointed out, "right after he was appointed LEO of the K'Nes Llan, no less."

"Pirr the Elder was an old K'Nes."  Heth shrugged.  "His death is not exactly suspicious."

"Yeah, but I hear Pirr the Younger prevented an autopsy…"

"That's not terribly unusual," Heth replied, growing irritated, "assuming that rumor is even true, which it might not be."

"What about that last-minute change to his will?" M'Rowr pressed.  "Leaving all his assets to Pirr the Younger?  Don't K'Nes usually divide their assents among their cubs?"

"Unorthodox, true," Heth admitted.  "But in this case, an excellent business move.  If Varrless Financial divided their shares in the K'Nes Llan, they'd lose their dominant position on the Executive Board, and the LEO position would have gone to another Executive Director… probably Horrath K'Urrin K'Meorr of Horrath Industries.  Remember, M'Rowr, the Varrless didn't get to be the richest corporate clan by being stupid."

"No," M'Rowr growled.  "They did it by collaborating with the Human Occupation before the war was even over!"

Heth was wondering when that would come up.  He knew quite well why his cousin was so suspicious of Varrless Financial.  "Unpatriotic?  Yes, perhaps," Heth conceded.  "But you can't deny it was an effective business strategy, judging by the results."

"For Varrless Financial, sure," M'Rwor growled.  "But the Occupation wasn't very profitable for the rest of us!  Some things have a non-monetary value, boss—like our independence."

"Yes, M'Rwor, I agree."  Heth sighed again; he knew this was one argument he wasn't going to win, not with M'Rowr—or any veteran, for that matter.  "But rumors and history are irrelevant in this case—Captain Gergenstein instructed me to paw-deliver this contract to First Patriarch Varrless, and a deal is a deal.  I'm not about to risk breaking another contract, verbal or otherwise.  Besides," Heth added, "it shouldn't be too controversial… I can't see how anyone would object to peace with the Federation right now."

M'Rowr let out his own sigh of resignation.  "Yeah, boss, I know, but… well, just be careful, huh?"

"Of course, M'Rowr, I'll…"  Heth's voice trailed off as the two cats shifted their tails, tacking into the wind to round the corner of a building… and suddenly there it was, rising before them, dominating the horizon, the top nearly lost in the clouds—the Capital Hall of the K'Nes Llan, where the capital needed to govern their space was raised and allocated, and the long-term futures of the K'Nes species were negotiated and planned.  Both cats lapsed into silence as they drifted closer.

"I've… never actually been inside Capital Hall before," Heth admitted.

"Me neither."  M'Rowr licked his paws and slicked down his mane.  "Wore my best suit, too."

Heth stared aghast at M'Rowr's orange waistcoat, red breeches, and purple blouse.  That's his best suit?  Then Heth looked around, noticing for the first time other K'Nes wearing suits equally loud and garish.  Heth looked down at his own suit, dark blues and greens and grays, and suddenly realized he's spent far, far too long among humans.  On deals, Heth wore the corporate uniform of whatever race he was negotiating with, and ape businesspeople seemed to only wear one of four dark colors: blue, brown, gray, and black.  What a depressing species, Heth thought, no wonder they're always at war.  K'Nes business fashion was much more colorful and imaginative.

Hoping his unfashionably drab suit wouldn't draw too much notice, Heth deflated, landing on the ledge outside a mid-level entrance to Capital Hall.  M'Rowr followed, and they padded inside.  True to his word, Yawr had wrangled an appointment for them with the LEO of the Executive Board, Varrless K'Pirr.  After passing through security (where M'Rowr was relieved of his pistol), an aide guided them through the halls.  As they floated along, both cats looked around in wonder at the interior of Capital Hall.  The massive, ancient hall was the oldest K'Nes structure in existence.  Heth could see layers of K'Nes history preserved in stone architecture—the building had originally been a Merchant's Guild House, then a Bank Vault, then a Stock Exchange… and, now, the K'Nes Llan Capital Hall.

They finally arrived at the waiting area outside the LEO's office.  Even this room was appropriately grand as stylish as befitted the importance of the dominant executive; the interior design was luxurious, indulgent, and staggeringly expensive.  A beautiful young secretary perched behind an ornate desk, the furniture was carved in exquisite detail, and the carpet thick and lush.  Dark wooden wainscoting ran along walls adorned with awards, trophies, and portraits of the K'Nes Tor Emperors… including, at the end, a portrait of Varrless.  Heth wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Hey, Heth!" M'Rowr whispered.  "Take a look at this!"

Heth floated over to where his cousin hovered by the only window in the room, framed in rich and heavy drapes.  The view was magnificent.  Capital Hall was the tallest building on Purrfang—and considering the semi-airborne K'Nes already had a reputation for towering architecture, that was saying a lot.  Awuon City spread out far, far below them, sprawling out to the horizon in every direction.

Heth wasn't sure how long they floated in that cathedral of capitalism, gazing at the urban heart of their species… only that by the time he noticed the roaring and hissing coming from Varrless's office, he realized it had been building for quite some time.  M'Rowr was oblivious (as usual), but Heth discretely swiveled an ear toward the door.  Considering the office was almost certainly soundproofed, the fact that he could hear anything at all implied a truly royal row occurring within.  He could make out three voices, but only caught the occasional word or two… something about ships and budgets and mercenaries and accounts payable.  It reached a crescendo with roars that shook the walls—something about calling for security—and the door slammed open and two furious K'Nes burst out.

Heth recognized them instantly: Gurrmew K'Soth and Yeomurt K'Prria, co-LEOs of Gurrmew & Yeomurt LLP, the political enemies of Miao Mercantile Inc.  Both cats were former military, and played the part from nose-tip to tail-tip with obnoxious abandon.  Soth floated across the room, a stocky calico in a bright red waistcoat (blatantly tailored to resemble a K'Nes Tor Navy uniform), with a short-cropped mane and conspicuous lack of jewelry completing the military look.  His mate Prria, a lean and lanky K'Nes wearing a form-fitting business suit (in the same cut and dark blue color as the K'Nes Tor Army), walked next to Soth—or stalked, rather, every bit a lithe and lethal predator.  The couple were a truly intimidating pair… and Varrless had just sent them running.

Heth suddenly felt much less confident.

" 'Not a budgetary priority'… bah!" Soth spat.  "If the apes invades again, we've only got one warship—my ship—to stop them!  Blast it, we need to rebuild our fleet, now!"

…and the fact that you own the largest shipyards in K'Nes space has nothing to do with it, I'm sure, Heth thought, narrowing his eyes.  Yes, you'd like a nice fat government contract, wouldn't you?

"The Executive Board wants a Llan Fleet," Prria growled.  "They just don't want to pay for it."

"They're paying for a Llan Army, aren't they?" Soth demanded.  "So why not a Llan Fleet?"

"If you can call it an army," Prria hissed.  "A collection of mercenary companies?  No standardization, no supply infrastructure, no clear command structure?  It's inefficient and cost-ineffective!"  Prria flexed her paws in frustration, claws extending and retracting.

Heth listened, fascinated.  Thankfully, neither of the couple seemed to have noticed him or M'Rowr yet.  Heth had heard something about the more enterprising K'Nes veterans founding mercenary companies in the months since the Human Occupation ended, but had no idea Varrless was trying to organize them into an army.  I've spent too long on foreign business, Heth chided himself, I'm losing track of what's happening in the Llan.

"Besides," Prria continued, seething, "the Executive Board voted down funding for the Llan Army—Varrless Financial is paying for them, not the K'Nes Llan… and that worries me.  Mercenaries are only loyal to whoever signs their paychecks."

Frankly, that worried Heth too.

M'Rwor turned to Heth, a puzzled expression on his furry face, and said a bit too loud, "An army, but no ships to move 'em around with?  That doesn't make any sense…"

Soth spun around in mid-air, pointing a claw at M'Rowr.  "Exactly!" he yowled.  "Finally, someone who—"  He stopped abruptly, staring at Heth and M'Rowr.  Soth's eyes narrowed to slits.  "Miao Mercantile…" he growled, floating closer to them.  Prria slinked up alongside Soth, still, silent, and glowering.  "What business do you have with First Patriarch Varrless, Miao?" Soth demanded.

M'Rowr involuntarily floated back a bit, intimidated, then bumped into the window and promptly got tangled in the curtains.  As usual, it was up to Heth to handle the formalities.  "I'm afraid that's proprietary information," he replied with a polite cower.  "But suffice to say, I don't think you'll need to worry about hostilities with the Federation anytime soon."

"Eh?   Why?"  Soth's whiskers twitched as he sniffed the air, curious.  "Why do you say that?  What do you know, Miao?"

"Something you don't.  And it's going to stay that way."  Heth bared his fangs in a grin.  "Gainful day."

Prria's silver-blue fur bristled—and for an instant, she looked like she was about to pounce.  Then Soth lay a restraining paw on his mate's shoulder.  "Come, precious," he said, "let's not waste any more time with smugglers and black marketers…"  He shot a piecing glance at Heth.  "…or contract-breakers."

Heth felt an unwanted growl rising from his chest.

M'Rwor suddenly seemed to find his nerve in his back pocket.  "Oh yeah?  Well… well, at least we aren't always bragging about owning a warship over fifty years old!"  Gurrmew and Yeomurt ignored him completely as they left.  Heth gave M'Rwor a questioning sideways glance.  "It… was all I could think of…" M'Rowr said with a bashful shrug.

"Miao K'Rrowr K'Heth?"

Surprised, Heth turned toward the voice to see the LEO's gorgeous blonde-furred secretary holding a datapad and a disapproving glower.  "First Patriarch Varrless is ready to see you and your… associate."

At least M'Rowr had the decency to look abashed.  After a quick last-minute preening, they both floated through the open door into the executive office and deflated onto the thick rug.  Heth just hoped M'Rowr wouldn't shed on it too much… that would be frightfully embarrassing.

Balanced on a padded leather perch behind an immense and astoundingly expensive desk was First Patriarch Varrless K'Purrfang K'Pirr the Younger.  He was a massive yellow tabby—taller than some females, even—with a huge mane glittering with splendid jewelry, dressed in a pristine red waistcoat and breeches, orange blouse, and yellow ascot.  He looked like a flame—which, Heth thought, was a fairly accurate description of both his personality and management style.  Heth and M'Rowr immediately observed proper protocol, lowering their tails and cowering deferentially to this most dominant of males.

The LEO of the K'Nes Llan held up a paw to silence them without even looking up; he was growling at an Executive Director over a comlink and didn't want to be interrupted in the middle of a good rant.  Heth glanced around the splendid office.  It was an unparalleled display of conspicuous consumption bordering on decadence, even by K'Nes standards.  Every item was crafted from rare and priceless materials, every available surface intricately decorated, opulent and extravagant without ever crossing the line into gaudy.

Then Heth noticed something unusual: a chair.  Not a perch or cushion, but a chair, like humans or Jurvain used.  It was hardly unheard of, but it was unusual, especially in a LEO's office.  Varrless obviously entertained an alien on a regular basis, and Heth couldn't help but wonder who, and why.

Varrless finished his call with a hiss, clawed up a light stylus, and began poking at a holographic spreadsheet hovering over his desk.  "Bah!  This blasted, inefficient bureaucracy!" he growled, fuming.  "If it's not the Executive Board, it's the Board of Directors!  If it's not the Board of Directors, it's the shareholders!  If it's not the shareholders, it's the—"  The patriarch stopped abruptly, his golden eyes focusing on Heth and M'Rowr through the holographic display.  "Who the scat are you?" he growled.

"Miao K'Rrowr K'Heth, sire."  Heth smiled, not sure what negotiating technique to take. Submissive?  Arrogant?  When in doubt, stall with introductions.  "This is Miao K'Rrowr M'Rowr, my business assoc—"

"I don't care!"  Pirr snapped as he shut off the holoprojection.  "All you Miao are the same, greedily little scavengers picking at my waste.  I don't know how you got past my scheduler… I should buy your house and turn it into a parking lot for squandering my time!"

Heth cut to the core and pulled out Gergenstien's datapad.  "I believe you will find this explains our presence."

Varrless flew over and grabbed the datapad out of Heth's paws. 

A couple quick scans told him everything.  "Smythe?!  How in the moon did you…?"

"I was passing through New Madrid," Heth deliberately stared at his claws, admiring his manicure.  Need to act dismissive; he's a bully, defuse his power.  "A customer asked me to pass this to you as a favor.  I never leave a customer unsatisfied."  The businesscat bared his fangs in a smile.

"A non-aggression contract?  With the Federation?!"  Pirr threw the datapad down on his desk.  "Never!  I'd rather stick my claws in raw scat than deal with those hairless apes!"

Heth froze, shocked.  This wasn't the reaction he expected.  "So… you're refusing it?"

"Of course I am!" Varrless snarled.  "I wouldn't trust those treacherous primates to honor a deal, no matter how it was phrased.  Looks like you wasted your time… now get out!"

Heth didn't budge.  This was too important.  "Does the Executive Board share your feelings?"

"What?!"

"I asked, does the Executive Board share your feelings?"

"The Board does nothing but waste my time with their endless debates!  And time is money!" Varrless blustered.  "My administration would be so much more streamlined and cost-effective without their constant negotiating…"

"I understand the sentiment," Heth said, agreeing without actually agreeing, "but the K'Nes Llan Articles of Incorporation clearly state that all diplomatics contract must be approv—"

"I don't need you to quote the bylaws to me, cub!" Varrless spat.

"My point," Heth said, trying to drag the negotiation back to focus, "is that the Executive Board has already approved non-aggression contracts with both the Jurvain and the Ministry.  What's one more?"

"Of course they approved those!  I put them on the agenda!"  Pirr inflated himself up.  "Those contracts were in my interests.  Opened up our borders to trade and security.  But I'm not going to deal with that admiral… chairman… whatever he calls himself!  No!"

Heth swallowed and held his ground.  "I'm sure that after it's introduced for debate to the Board of Directors, the Executive Board might see it differently."

The patriarch floated closer, fur bristling.  His eyes narrowed to slits.  "You wouldn't dare…"

Heth met his gaze.  "Too many K'Nes know about the proposal already, sire.  If it doesn't appear on the next agenda, I'm sure they'll wonder why you're blocking it.  They will demand it come up for debate."

"A demand led by Miao K'Nhur K'Yawr, no doubt!"  Varrless spun around and deflated onto his executive perch, glaring at them.  "Which leads me to ask, Heth… why are you so determined, cub?  How are you profiting from this?"

"Well… I'm not," Heth admitted.  "At least, not directly."

Varrless hissed out a laugh.  "They you're a fool!"

"Sire, this is the first step the Federation has ever made in even recognizing us as a sovereign nation," Heth argued.  "They're offering us a contract!  Instead of being a rebel province targeted for re-conquest, we're now equals!  The K'Nes can finally secure our independence, once and for all.  That has to be the first, the most important thing!"

"Sky Father above, you are a naïve little kitten!"  Varrless rolled his eyes, exasperated.  "Don't you remember what those apes were like, what they did to us during the Occupation?  The nationalization of private property?  State control of industrial production and trade routes?  Government direction of the economy—all toward a profitless war machine?  It was… socialism!"  Pirr's tongue tripped over the alien word—until the Occupation, the K'Nes had no concept of such a thing, much less a word for it.  "They're a treacherous species, cub.  They don't abide by contracts.  They'll break it the first chance they get!"

"Then at the very least, it will buy us some time to get our war machine ready," Heth pressed, "and with good relations already in place, we'll have a better chance of ensuring peace and continued trade indefinitely.  Everyone profits.  What do we have to lose?"

Varrless raised a single claw.  "Your favorable projection fails to take in to account one thing."

Heth widened an eye.  "And that is?"

"The Emperor.  He won't look favorably towards a K'Nes deal with his most… aggressive enemy."

"But… we trade with the Empire all the time!" M'Rowr blurted out, speaking for the first time.  "They know we trade with others, and—"

"But a formal diplomatic contract is different."  Varrless spoke as if talking to a kitten.  "If the K'Nes Llan provides assistance to the Emperor's enemies—no matter how little—he will not forget such an outrage."

Heth didn't like where this was going.  Following that logic, he thought, we can't have diplomatic relations with anyone BUT the Empire.  He tried a different tactic.  "Futures, like stocks, fluctuate," Heth reminded Varrless.  "There's no guarantee the Empire will even survive.  The Federation has the largest fleet…"

"…and the Empire has the Horadrim," Varrless countered.  "With their technology, they could easily counter that advantage.  Sky Father above, just one of those Horadrim god-ships could take out an entire Earth Fleet task force!  No, I plan to place the Llan in a favorable trading position for when the Empire succeeds, not if."

"Yes… but will the Llan survive in the meantime?"

"And why wouldn't we?" Pirr demanded.

"The Federation is much closer, sire, a much more immediate threat.  If they see a chance to grab our factories to help fuel their war effort, we can hardly stop them!"

"Now you sound like that swaggering rodent Gurrmew K'Soth," Varrless growled.

Heth ignored him, pushing forward.  "It's best to negotiate peace with the Federation now, while they're preoccupied and stretched thin.  Then, if the Empire takes offense, we'll make them a deal too."  Heth smiled—without fangs this time.  "It gives us a chance to be the middlemerchants on the galactic stage; friendly to all, beholden to none.  Surely that's worth pursuing…?"

"And if I refuse?"  Varrless bristled.

"Then it will come up for debate anyway."  Heth shrugged.  "Moreover, you'll look short-sighted and incompetent for not bringing it to the Board yourself."  He swished his tail slowly, nonchalant.  "Who knows?  There might even be a shareholder challenge.  Varrless Financial needs a majority of shares to remain dominant, you know…"

For a moment, Heth thought Varrless was going to claw his throat out.  Then, incredibly, the First Patriarch gave in.  "Fine," Pirr growled, "I'll bring the Federation's non-aggression contract to the Board… and a non-aggression contract with the Empire, too!"

Even better, Heth thought.  He nodded to Varrless.  "Fair enough."

"But…"  Pirr pointed a claw at Heth.  "There is a price."

Heth's ears perked up.  "And that would be?"

"Up until now, I've been content to ignore the Miao… I have the Llan, after all," he growled.  "But your LEO is trying to push his whiskers where they don't belong.  Varrless Financial will no longer ignore the expansion of Miao Mercantile into national affairs.  Consider that your best and final offer."

Heth didn't like the sound of that.  "Or what?" he pushed.  "You'll attempt a hostile takeover of Miao Mercantile?  You're rich, but you're not that rich."

"Who said anything about Miao Mercantile?"  Varrless gave him a predatory smile.  "Gainful day, Heth."

Heth stared at him silently, puzzled.  What's he referring to?  If not the Miao… then who?  Then, taking his cue, he cowered politely, turned, and left the Patriarch's office.  They he came back in, grabbed a dumbfounded M'Rowr by the collar, and dragged him out.

The pair inflated and floated out of Capital Hall in silence.  At security, M'Rowr reclaimed his pistol, and they left the Hall.  They sat on the ledge in the breeze, dangling their legs over the chasm below.  Heth pulled out his snuffbox and snorted a huge pinch of nepeta.  M'Rowr rolled a nepeta cigarette.  He couldn't afford powdered nepeta—he had two litters to support, after all.  He lit his nepeta joint and took a huge drag.

"You just challenged the richest K'Nes in the Llan," M'Rowr said.

"Of course."  Heth shrugged.  "It's a free market."

"And… you won…"

"Yes… I suppose I did, didn't I?" Heth replied.  You don't have to sound so surprised, he thought, irked.

"Did you mean what you said in there?  About the K'Nes?"

"What, about being the galaxy's middlemerchants?  Certainly!  That's the most profita—"

"No," M'Rowr cut him off.  "About K'Nes independence being the most important thing.  Did you mean it?"

Heth sniffed at him, confused.  "Of course.  Don't you?"

M'Rowr smiled.  The he stiffened and snapped his tail around to tap against his forehead; the military salute of the old K'Nes Tor Army.  "Yes, sire!"

Heth stared at him silently, not sure how to respond.  M'Rowr was twice his age; it made Heth uncomfortable for M'Rowr to address him as 'sire'.

M'Rowr lowered his tail.  "You know, I think I might've underestimated you, cuz… what with you being the runt of the litter and all that.  But… well, you might just have what it takes to be an alpha after all."

Heth didn't know if he should feel complimented or insulted, so he switched the topic instead.  "Do you think it will last, M'Rowr?  Our freedom, I mean.  The galaxy's at war… and we've got no fleet, no real army…"

M'Rowr puffed his joint.  "As long as we can keep the apes fighting each other… sure."

"Yes… but when one ape faction inevitably wins, and conquers all the others… what then?"

"Then we're next," M'Rowr said.

The two cats sat silently on the ledge for a while, watching the chaotic commerce below.