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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Psychronia on 2025-10-22 11:18:28+00:00.

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Gretal / Jacey / Gretal POV - Striking at the Weak Point of Scoundrels

Gretal crawled out of his bed tiredly. Morning already? He still felt incredibly tired from yesterday. Not to mention the argument between Daya and Mottluh the day before that.

They’d just gotten news that several unmanned shipping vessels were attacked by space pirates, and most of the day was spent on consulting the authorities, checking the losses, and notifying angry clients.

He didn’t know how or why, but it was hard not to suspect Jacey’s involvement. It didn’t seem like anyone else did though. Well, maybe one or two of the other humans were looking at him oddly. That aggression index really created a major blindspot, didn’t it? Must be nice…

That particular human was trouble though, and Gretal…had trouble deciding what distance to maintain with him.

On one hand, as an Uven, he really didn’t need any extra scrutiny in Coalition space if he could help it. And Jacey’s…whatever it was, clearly invited scrutiny.

On the other hand, Gretal didn’t think the human was a direct danger to him because he seemed to genuinely enjoy the Movie and Game Nights they’d started having. And in truth, so was the Uven himself; he missed having anyone’s companionship ever since escaping Nysis, really.

It was better than starving or being killed in battle on that self-made deathworld, but living among other species brought its own troubles.

First and foremost among them being how Uven constantly needed to tread lightly around other races.

He hated to admit it, but Mr. Mottler was right. Gretal was lucky to even have a normal, peaceful and boring job.

That fact made it hard to defend himself against even clear abuses, but at least he was alive. Just when he’d resigned himself to the burden of just being Uven once again…an unexpected advocate showed up.

“…Daya, huh?”

He always thought Daya was afraid of him just like all the other races. And maybe he was, but…he stepped up for him. Risked his own job to defend him, even.

It was such a small thing and he was a little worried it only made things worse, but it meant very much. That mild discomfort when looking at the Vesnin was diminished. Or rather, it was dwarfed by Gretal’s unexpectedly deep feelings of gratitude. It made him want to get to know the Vesnin better.

He did kind of get that chance to chat after the incident 2 days ago, in fact.

When the two of them went to meet Jacey in the office to help him finish the extra workload, Jacey ended up making two requests of them. Both were bizarre in their own ways.

The first was to submit job applications at a sister company.

The second request was to help him…scour the flea market, trinket shops, and second-hand stores for pre-space age antiques, which apparently Mr. Mottluh collected.

Daya was just puzzled, but seemed to lack the sense of peril Gretal had. Whatever this was, it was clear that the human was up to something.

With a soft grunt, the Uven rose to his feet and started preparing for the new day.

An hour later…

Gretal blinked with surprise as he checked his datapad for updates on his way to work. Among the messages was a notification that the cheap antiques he’d gathered and put up for sale online on Jacey’s behalf was successfully bid for 15,000 credits, 33,000 credits, and 22,000.

He’d bought everything for 82 credits.

How did…

His train of thought was interrupted when he arrived at the office to the sounds of shouting.

“…Would he do that?”

“I mean…he would, wouldn’t he? It’s Mottluh.”

“The first part, sure. But what about the second?”

“It’s because there was a reward, isn’t it?”

There were crowds gossiping in the halls as he entered the building. Daya was among the group and, while he stiffened initially, it seems he was now comfortable enough with the Uven to spill tea.

“Gretal! Did you hear!?”

“I just got here. What happened?”

It was at this point that Gretal caught a glimpse of Jacey walking past the crowd, business suitcase in hand, in the corner of his eye. He headed straight towards his desk as if everything was business as usual.

…Ah. There was a slight smirk.

“It seems that Mr. Mottluh sold our delivery routes and times to those space pirates!”

“…”

Well. Someone certainly did that. Barely any of the company’s shipments were unmanned, and it was just a recent cost-cutting measure to send cargo without oversight. Suggested by Mr. Mottluh himself after dismissing a few coworkers, in fact. So for a precise robbery like that to happen…

“How did we find this out?”

“It seems the investigators caught him red-handed with direct correspondence in his personal messaging accounts. Mottluh was definitely talking to an someone from the under districts.”

Or it could be someone with access to the manager’s computer while his messaging account was still logged in. Perhaps someone who was ordered or volunteered to do his work for him…?

“But it was all a trap to help the sector fleet catch them! Some of the cargo had tracking devices in them!”

“You don’t say…”

Come to think of it, Jacey was curiously asking about Uven drone and spying technology the other day. Purely out of curiosity, Gretal was sure.

“How did the higher ups react?”

“Well, obviously they didn’t really take kindly to their private information being sold out. We still lost the cargo, after all. We think Mottluh is about to be fired, hence the yelling.”

Yeah, that was obvious. So obvious that you’d either have to be a greedy, lazy fool or a cunning hunter with a scapegoat to do it anyway.

“So is Mottluh some kind of a hero?”

“I mean…he probably did it for the 80,000 credit reward, so not really. I’m just glad he’s gonna be gone.”

…Ah.

“…Say, Daya. Did you get any notable news on your datapad?”

“Hmm? What do you…f-fifty thou-!?”

Gretal hastily clamped his hand over his new friend(?)'s mouth to stifle his scream. Sorry, but not here. Several clues were practically screaming at him to keep these details secret if he could.

Jacey put his poker face back one when he caught himself smirking. No, no. He was too close to let his guard down now.

So far, there was only one big hiccup to the plan.

There was no way the boss would want to deal with any association with Mottluh at this point, and that meant he and Gretal were on the short list for layoffs.

The original plan was to take the logistical know-how he stole learned on the job and get a position in a budding new Terran company who would no doubt love an Uven friend with industry experience.

But then Daya went and got himself put on the shit list as well.

Even though he did it all on his own, Jacey could tell that he had some part in that reckless decision. It would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he just left him as he was, so he had to do something a bit more ambitious.

With the space pirates less of a threat in Kalen’s sector of space and the recent purchase of a garden world for Uven refugees, business would be booming here. If he gathered all the funds that “Mottluh” gained in the confusion of this incident, their parent company would probably be willing to sell that subsidiary they were just keeping for tax purposes anyway.

Especially if it just so happened that an unknown manager account accessed and changed around some of the numbers there two days ago.

Jacey rested his cheek against his hand and closed his eyes. Was he missing anything else…?

His eyes snapped open when he heard Mottluh trudge by, his scales standing in agitation. There were murmurs and silent cheers wherever he walked past.

Right. It should be clear to set the final trap.

“…Mr. Mottluh!”

Making sure to catch up to his old manager just after he’d taken a few steps out of the building, he jogged over with his suitcase in hand.

“Oh…you. What do you want? Here to mock me to my face?!”

“No, no.” Jacey hugged his arms and bowed his head. It was a Taracian expression of gratitude. “Thank you for guiding us employees as much as you had. And thank you for taking care of those pirates! Even of corporate doesn’t appreciate you, I want you to know that I understand your worth to this company!”

Mottluh was naturally a bit taken aback. “I…I didn’t…Hmph. Well, of course.”

The facial muscles the human tensed. This made him want to puke, but he needed to endure it. He held out the business suitcase.

“Please, accept this to help you get to greener pastures. Consider it an interest-free loan if you don’t want it as a gift!”

Perplexed, the Tarac took it, turned it his way, and opened it. His eyes widened, naturally. “How did you…where did you get all this…?”

“Oh…Well, actually…” Jacey leaned in with a slight whisper. “I’ve recently learned that if you run the numbers, the chip game in the gambling house off the 31st district pays out 7 times out of 10.”

“…I see. Well then. I’ll accept this as payment for my gracious tutelage then. Maybe we’ll meet again if you actually put in hard work into your career.”

“Of course!”

It was nice not needing to pretend to smile to pull a con with alien species.

—…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1od5glz/our_new_peaceful_friends_10/