Jessica Morgan lounged in her study sipping a vintage port as she watched the news.

She snorted and shook her head. She pulled up her trading software and smiled. Her short-sells and put options were doing quite nicely. An encrypted e-mail, the old format, popped up. She opened her desk and pulled out an archaic Earth-tech holographic thumb-drive and plugged it into her antique desktop.

“How the fuck did you get nukes?” she chuckled. “Terrence,” she called into her phone.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Contact Sasha Glent and place an order for fifty of those delightful missiles she is offering for sale, please. To be clear I want the ones armed with the nukes, just in case she has any conventional crap on offer.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Also see how many of those rations she will turn loose. In fact, see how many she can get us through her contacts. Weapons I have. Those rations however, are quite intriguing. I shall buy whatever she can get us up to ten million units.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That will be all,” she said as she set down her phone and returned to her port. She idly pulled up her soldiers’… oops… her miscellaneous employee’s readiness reports. She smiled. She was in pretty good condition. In fact, she had a fair chance of taking the planet if she felt like it.

Not that she was even remotely inclined to do that! She tried that whole warrior-queen thing before. Fuck that noise! She refilled her glass.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Terrence announced over her phone. “The Federation Prime Minister wishes to speak with you.”

“By all means, put him through.”

Prime Minister Voxxkreen’Shal-Kalleri’s image appeared on her desktop's archaic two-dimensional display. Holograms annoyed her.

“Voxxie!” Jessica exclaimed cheerfully raising her glass. “Are your pendulous bits properly pendulous?”

“Such levity is inappropriate concerning the reason for this call,” the Prime Minister said sourly.

“Hang on, Voxxie,” Jessica said as she stepped off screen. “I’m gonna need a bigger glass.” She returned shortly with a highball glass and promptly emptied her port into it and topped it off.

“Ok, Voxxie,” she said as she took a nice long sip, “Shoot.”

“Are you intoxicated?” he asked with disapproval. “I need you clear-headed.”

“Voxxie, baby,” she laughed. “If I’m not intoxicated I’m straight up stoned these days. This is about as good as you are gonna get.”

“Harrumph,” the Prime Minister grumbled. “I wish to seek your counsel concerning your species, Jessica.”

“Lovely little shits, aren’t they?” she laughed. “Imagine trying to lead those fuckers.”

“Leading them is exactly the issue with which I seek your advice,” the Prime Minister said disapprovingly. Human levity is something that he keenly disliked. Their penchant for making light of the most serious topics was just horribly wrong. “I wish to know how to best deal with the current situation.”

“Well first of all,” Jessica laughed. “Lock up your fucking files. That’s my first bit of council. If you are gonna cheer on our extinction don’t let the fucking tapes hit the streets. It kinda pisses ‘em off.”

“We are launching a full investigation!” the Prime Minister exclaimed in annoyance. “And would you please not make light of such a dire situation!”

“I’ll give you a freebie,” Jessica chuckled. “Sheila motherfucking Donovan. She’s your girl. Her team did the strike and the hack.”

“And just how do you know this?”

“Helena Sterling, that’s how,” Jessica replied as she took another big sip. “That little bitch is screwing one of her former men and she was the one who broke the fucking story! She’s been sucking Sheila’s dick since the White Star. In reality she is sucking Paul Roberts’s dick but whatever.”

She saw the Prime Minister start to open his respiratory orifice.

“And why do I know about that Helena bitch? Because she has been taking pot-shots, very well aimed pot shots, at more than one influential member of our society. She’s been a big enough of a pain in our collective ass that I did some digging… Of course the stuff she is saying about me is wildly inaccurate… Of course,” she chuckled.

“… Of course...” the Prime Minister said clenching his orifice into a rigid circle of a frown. “Oh, please allow me the opportunity to express my condolences over the loss of your grandson. I understand if you wish to seek revenge but please use some discretion...”

“Oh hell no!” Jessica laughed. “You do your own dirty work! No way I’m crossing that bitch! She took down the fucking White Star without a single casualty and hacked her way into your most secure systems without breaking a sweat! You think I want that demon on my ass? I’ll just put another grand-kid in power. I got spares, you know.”

She paused and took another sip.

“I know… I gotta do something,” she grumbled, “I just can’t let someone get away with killing one of mine and putting it on (snicker) fucking pay-per-view. I just gotta figure out how to save face without pissing her off bad enough to actually come after me. If you are up for a bit of counsel I could use a hand with that.”

“I’m afraid I have no advice to offer,” the Prime Minister said after a few moments. He was at a complete loss. Humans were known for their love of their progeny, perhaps even more than a lot of races, and she treating what had to be an incredibly painful situation with the same dammed levity with which she treated everything. If he didn’t know better he would believe she had no regard for the life of her own grandchild.

“Bah, just like a fucking Fed,” she chuckled. “Come here asking for shit and have nothing to offer in return.”

The Prime Minister just sat there completely flummoxed. His irritation grew into full bore anger.

“I believe that you have benefited sufficiently over our association that you would be inclined to regard the situation as one where you owed me ‘something in return’!”

“Jesus, Voxxie, I’m just screwing with ya,” Jessica laughed taking another drink. “So, the humans...”

“Yes,” the Prime Minister replied. “How do I get them back under control.”

Jessica broke into a genuine laugh.

“I thought your kind didn’t crack jokes,” she said still laughing. “Oh shit. You were serious weren’t you?”

“Very,” the Prime Minister said trying to control his temper. She was making fun of him. He just knew it.

“Ok, I’ll tell ya’ what to do,” Jessica said taking another long sip. “and this is a complete freebie, without any regard for my own personal gain. Get on top of this now, right fucking now! Say that the people on those tapes do not represent the Federation. Sling them right under the fucking bus… Sorry, that’s a human expression,” Jessica chuckled. “I mean set them up to take the blame. Fire everyone on those tapes. Force their resignations, all of them! Arrest them, shit, make up some charges if there aren't any that will work. Then you put humans on the councils that are calling the shots. There aren’t enough councilors so make an advisory group or something. Put the humans at the helm right away, like now! You have… seventy-two hours at the absolute max before things get bad.”

“Things are already bad! They have killed councilors!”

Jessica laughed again.

“No they aren’t,” she said as she topped off her glass. “Right now you are just dealing with crack-pots and hot-heads… sorry… unbalanced individuals that just grabbed something out of the closet they weren’t supposed to have and just started blasting. That’s just some random damage, a few deaths, no biggie. No. That’s not bad, not yet.”

She took another big sip.

“Bad is going to be when the more rational and better organized people start working in teams to actually do something about this. Then, it will be bad,” she paused and looked right into his eyes. “Voxxie, you gotta keep that from happening.”

“We can’t just back down!” he exclaimed. “It will be rewarding their bad despicable actions! We can’t deal with terrorists! Their murderous rampage cannot be allowed to bear fruit!”

“This isn’t about rewarding or punishing,” Jessica said with a smirk. “This is about protecting the Federation, so pull your head out of your ass or wherever it is that you take a dump. You won’t be dealing with the terrorists. You will be appealing to the last shreds of what you consider humanity before, as that bitch so eloquently put it, you start dealing with Homo Sapiens. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. Nobody fucking wants that.”

“Protecting the Federation?” the Prime Minister scoffed. “That’s overstating things just a bit, don’t you think?”

Jessica leaned forward into the monitor.

“You asked for my counsel and this is it,” she said with a more serious tone than he had ever heard her utter before. “Make a fucking deal. I can send you a list of names, people who have influence, people who can actually lead these fucking animals. Talk to them. Make that deal! And whatever you do do NOT try to do some bullshit crackdown. If you try to fight them they WILL fight back.”

“I cannot do as you recommend,” the Prime Minister replied. “They have caused death and destruction and we cannot allow ourselves to appear weak in the face of this deplorable assault! They have used military weaponry on the streets of the capital itself, killing numerous government officials including several councilors! They can’t be allowed to run riot. They must be brought to heel. I asked you for advice on subduing the disturbance not-”

“Then you are fucked!” Jessica snapped cutting him off. “You asked me, who led these fucking animals at their absolute worst, what to do and I just fucking told you! It’s on your head now.” she said taking a big gulp. “And, Voxxie, don’t call me asking for a solution when things go exactly the way that I told you they would because once that happens, there is nothing that can be done and I will have been forced to make a choice between the humans and the Federation. I’m gonna choose the humans and you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t they will drag me out of this nice house of mine and if I’m very lucky they will just put me against the wall instead of doing what I actually deserve. I’m not kidding, Voxxie. As of now I have no choice but to side with the humans. The usual saying is ‘God forgive me.’ but I’m well past that point. Bye, Voxxie.”

“Wait-”

Jessica terminated the video chat and picked up her phone.

“Terrence,”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Make that one hundred missiles if you can get them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And inform our ‘special employees’, they are all to report to their assigned positions and equip themselves.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessica stood up and walked to the window with her highball glass full of port, and looked across her grounds. She took a moment to truly appreciate the gardens, the sculptures and the fountains.

“Well it was nice while it lasted,” she said to nobody in particular and then drained her glass and tossed it aside. It shattered against the floor.

“Terrance,”

“Ma’am?”

“Execute Yellowstone protocol.”

“I am required to confirm your intent and state of mind. Are you sure and are you overly intoxicated or under the influence of any drugs at this time?”

“I am clear of mind, not overly intoxicated, and I confirm my intent. Execute Yellowstone confirmed.”

“Yes, ma’am. Starting Yellowstone protocol effective immediately.”

“Cry havoc,” she chuckled.

“Ma’am?”

“It’s Shakespeare.”

“Shakespeare, ma’am?”

“Doesn’t matter. Yellowstone this bitch up!”

“Yes, ma’am.”