I have faced down, okay, I have run away from more threats than I care to remember. I have dealt with a pile of the insanity, horror, grimness and darkness my universe has on offer. However, none of that was as unnerving as where I found myself now in Paris, Earth.
Yes, Paris. On Earth. Holy Terra. Except that this isn't some in some spire approximating some ancient habitation but an actual city. Looking out the window I can see a river, streets, some awful iron tower and, well, an actual city.
This is because I'm not in a sensible universe but a crazed, deranged parody of reality where everything is upside down. This Paris, this Earth is not part of the Imperium of Man, but rather an entity known as the United Federation of Planets. Their society is completely mad, open, free, and remarkably pleasant.
Aside from the interior of this room I mean. I'm used to a certain amount of kink, the Guard is a fighting force of rigorously healthy humans from everywhere. Tastes vary. You just get used to it and move on. So long as everyone points their guns in the same direction when it matters who cares who they sleep with or how? If it's human on human, just roll with it.
Not in the Federation. Seems their unofficial mandate is 'To seek out new life, new civilisations and sleep with them'. They really are keen on going boldly where no good, Emperor fearing citizen would ever think of going. Which explains how this school has a head of Xenosexuality. I'm in a room dedicated to the act of sexual intercourse with aliens, the art depicting such decorating the walls and desk.
Oh yes, I'm in a school. I'm being interrogated by Ms Devereaux. She looks up from her padd and fixes me with a predatory look.
"So Mr Cain. Why did you choose to apply for a Bachelor in Applied Sexuality?" she said.
Good question. Why did I decide to become a male prostitute?
The answer is, of course, a simple one that rapidly became complicated. Trapped in an alien universe at the mercy of the mercurial daemon Que has left me without a job. That's not a big deal in the Federation. Their mad trust in AI and automation leaves about ninety percent of the population free to do as they please. The Federation will find you a place to live, give you access to their libraries and replicators and then politely asks you to not commit what few crimes they have left. It sounded like heaven and I accepted. A lifetime of luxury and indolence beckoned and who was I to refuse?
Two months in I was bored. Much as I disliked it all I was used to the endless forms, reviews and meetings being a Commissar entailed when not actually on the front I enjoyed and admittedly scammed to get as much R+R as possible the prospect of a lifetime of such was looking to be an unending nightmare of nothing to do. Enquiring about this to my neighbours resulted in them suggesting one of several training courses. This led to the next problem, what did I want to do? I had always said I wanted to own a bar/brothel back in my home universe so that is what I attempted here.
Except I wasn't in my home universe but this mad one. My neighbours, on hearing my announcement were not shocked but actually interested and said they would help. They quickly fabricated a building, furnished the interiors, a bunch of clothing and libations. I was so caught up in it all that I of course had missed some important details.
"So, what's the plot going to be?" asked Debbie as she adjusted her stockings.
"Yeah, going to make something up or just use a holonovel? Also, do you think these tights make my bum look big?" says Mike.
"I thought we would open the doors and see what happens." I said.
"Oooh, free form. That's so cool. Can we have a fight?" said Angela.
"That'll be great. We should fab a horse trough for someone to get thrown into." said Kurt. Others also chimed in with suggestions. It occured to me that everyone knew what was going on except me.
"Am I missing something here?" I said.
"Well, none of us are qualified LPSTs so this is basically theatre Ciaphas." said Debbie, "Hey, I can be a disguised Rommie, who wants to be the one I have to get secrets from?"
"Of course, that's exactly what it is." I said weakly, not wanting to let on that I had intended it to be real.
I went along with it for a while, but then requested to move, claiming I wanted to experience a different climate. My neighbours nodded understandingly as they continued to elaborate on the set. I'm told that 'Mr Cain's Whorehouse' is still there and rather popular among the historical reenactment set. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice I decided some more research was in order.
Amazingly the Federation had managed to warp the idea of 'prostitute' into something almost unrecognisable. Their equivalent was the Licensed Practical Sexuality Therapist, or LPST. Part therapist, personal trainer and also someone who bangs others as part of their job. High marks in your LPST course is a good prerequisite to becoming a Starfleet Counselor. Not the only one mind, but it did mean that competition for places in the courses was intense. So, hard work and it's more sex ed than sex actual. You think that would put me off, but then there was the attraction of actually having a job in the Federation meant that Picard couldn't as easily shanghai me for some more deadly danger with the running and screaming. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. So I applied and was surprised to be granted an entry interview at this 'Paris' place.
Which is why I am in a room festooned with human on xeno erotica being asked why I had applied to join what I had been led to believe was 'the oldest profession'.
"Well?" said Ms Devereaux.
"I, er, that is," I attempted, wondering how to spin my recent misadventure.
Ms Devereaux responded by getting out of her chair and then sitting on the desk facing me. She picked up a jade statue of a well endowed xeno. "Perhaps I can help?" she said. "You applied for a BAS and since you are an alien of a most unusual sort, they referred you to us, the premier school of Xenosexuality in the Federation."
I have been accused of many things, but an alien? "Now, come on." I began.
Ms Devereaux blinked, "Oh I will Mr Cain, you are an alien. An inquiry into your line of descent will not lead us back to Earth, or to be more precise, this Earth. You are as much an alien as the fabled Eccentrica Galumbits here." she said, indicating the statue.
"Who? And how do you know where I'm from?" I said.
"Eccentrica here? The fabled Triple Breasted Whore of Erotican VI? Well, this statue is from Felnis Minor. She's a popular goddess in the Adamsi Cluster. As for your origin, it's on your file. Which says you're from another universe, therefore an alien and therefore of interest to me." said Ms Devereaux leaning forward.
"There's a file? Which anyone can see?" I said.
"Of course not. They would need a reason to see your details, which I must say are quite interesting. Are you really from an autocratic militant theocracy?
The words didn't mean a lot to me, so I just nodded.
"And it's strictly humans only? Not that I think there's much room for experimentation. Your, Empire, is that the right word, seems beset by foes, not all of its own making."
I continued to nod.
"So your hostility to aliens is understandable. Now, ignoring the fact that I, and every other human here is an alien, how do you feel about that? Specifically, tell me about Lukth?" Ms Devereaux said with a smile as she put down the statue and picked up a padd.
Of the many beings in this wretched universe I did not want to meet, Lukth was, well, it was complicated. Not as bad as Que or Picard who had 'put Cain in peril' as a personal motivation. She however was up there for several reasons.
Firstly, Lukth was an officer in the Klingon Defence Force. Her official rank translated as 'Tactical Officer'. That's a lieutenant of sorts. I suspected her actual rank was the Klingon equivalent of Major or Colonel. I never actually had the chance to ask and wouldn't anyways since asking a spy that sort of thing is considered terminally rude. Anyways as a spy, her appearance presaged highly dangerous fieldwork, something I have always tried to avoid.
Secondly, Lukth was attracted to me. Genuinely attracted as opposed to 'seduce the target on orders' variety. Now I'm willing to admit that I am indeed, quite handsome and proud of my ability to turn heads but there was a small, tiny problem there. Because;
Thirdly, as you may have guessed, Lukth was a Klingon woman. An alien. A filthy xeno. That I should not suffer to live and all that.
Fourthly, I was attracted to her. That was the really complicated bit.
As a result of all that Ms Devereaux's question caught me off guard. I hadn't felt this way since being called to task at the Schola Progenium for this or that supposed or actual infraction, mostly involving the Soroitas barracks.
"Well yes. I have met Tactical Officer Lukth from time to time." I say, trying to banish the memories of lurching monstrosities, green flashes and screams.
"Yes, I know that, but how do you feel about her? You, Mr Cain are almost unique. Despite your, er, Imperium's technological mastery and acumen you are sociologically regressed. We don't normally get institutionalised xenophobes from dictatorships round here. The one's we do often are not attracted to what they classify as an alien. My study of you, will reveal much, help unlock and develop our understanding of such conditions and of how to treat them." said Ms Devereaux as she leaned forwards.
The normal, proper reaction from a good Imperial subject would be revulsion, followed by reporting such an obvious xenos lover to the authorities. I am however, not a model Imperial citizen and also I was trapped in crazy land. Any authorities would quickly refer me back here, in the clutches of this rabid xeno lover who just, from her point of view, help me and expand the body of knowledge.
Yes, The Federation are all mad. Show them something weird, unusual and dangerous and their response was not to put large warning signs around it if it couldn't be destroyed that is. No, their reaction was akin to that of a cogboy encountering a piece of archeotech. Every single member. How their society had lasted even the few centuries it had was a complete mystery.
While I struggled to formulate a reply Ms Devereaux's vox beeped. She turned and spoke into it, occasionally looking at me with comments like "Yes he is here.", "This very irregular." and the ominous "Oh very well, if you insist." She then ended the call and looked at me.
"Well, Mr Cain, it seems our conversation has been delayed. That was Starfleet. They request your assistance with some spatial phenomena that have turned up.
Typical, still there was the silver lining. "Well, I shall look forward to speaking to you when I get back." I said.
Ms Devereaux smiled, "Oh don't worry about that. I'm told it's a joint Federation / Klingon venture. I'm coming along. To observe you in the field." she said with a smile.
Blast.
I really dislike teleportation. Being shunted around by machines that arbitrarily decide that you are now there instead of here is unsettling and quite concerning. What if they decide not to put you anywhere. Where do you go then? I have also learned no to ask anymore as the stream of nonsense from the nearest available cogboy or Federation Citizen is absolutely unintelligble and no help whatsoever. Anyways, one moment I was in the School of Xenosexuality, the next in the teleportarium of The Enterprise looking at Lieutenant Worf.
"The captain will see you now." said Worf with typical loquacity. He then turned and walked out of the teleportarium, no doubt expecting me to follow. With little choice available I followed him through the corridors. Ms Devereaux on my heels.
"What is this about?" I asked, but Worf ignored me. Either that or he had already exhausted his word ration for the day.
In short order I was led to one of the most dreaded rooms aboard a Federation Starship. A briefing room. Here is where Federation Officers delivered long winded speeches detailing every aspect of the forthcoming insanely venturing into an unknown. Inside was Captain Picard, the most dangerous optimist in the sector along with his pet cogbys, Geordie and Data. Also present was Lukth.
"Welcome aboard Mr Cain, Ms Devereaux. It seems we have come across another artefact from your home universe." said Picard. He made a small movement and a large hologram appeared above the conference table. It depicted a chaotic mishmash of ships, both Imperial and Xenos in origin all fused together in one frightening mass. A Space Hulk. "This appeared in the Ichneumon system three weeks ago. As it was formerly part of the Neutral Zone it was decided that a joint Klingon / Federation expedtion would investigate it. After some preliminary scans the Klingons revealed that your input would be valuable.
At this point Lukth looked up, smiled and made a sound like a Chimera in desperate need of an enginseer's blessing.
"Cain! I am so pleased to see you again. There are a few things you can help us with." she said.
Behind me I could hear Ms Devereaux busily making notes.