Heron and Byron were sitting with their future mates, Noreh and Noryb, watching the local carpenter, Mick, convert their accommodation to be a bit more friendly to their alien forms. Blue hairless creatures with four arms and four legs didn’t easily adapt to human furniture and building codes.

  “Hey Mick!” said Byron, “Are you sure we can’t help?”

  Mick remembered last time Byron had tried to help and decided the hassle of replacing all the damaged materials wasn’t worth it. He replied, “Mate, didn’t it hurt enough last time?”

  Byron looked at the bandage on one of his blue arms and the sling holding up another and sighed, “How was I supposed to know the supports would fall down?”

  “Because I told ya,” Mick said, “That should have been a clue, mate.”

  Noryb smiled at the Dirtling’s recognition of her mate’s strength, and touched one of his remaining undamaged arms in support, “You are too strong! That’s why they made you a special consultant.”

  Heron asked Mick a more important question, “Hey Mick. Did you bring any of those special sandwiches?”

  Mick grinned and called to his apprentice Jim, “Hey Jim. Get the cooler bag Sheila prepared for our mates.”

  Jim reached behind the wall and pulled out the bag and brought it over to the aliens. Mick learned from last time that Vegemite was different for the blue aliens. Something about it reminded them of their alcoholic drink so he and his wife decided to do something special for them by making a whole bread loaf worth of Vegemite sandwiches. Besides, he just added the costs to his invoice so everyone won.

  Jim put the cooler bag on the table, opened it and pulled out the sandwiches that were cling wrapped to a plate. Placing the plate on the table he gave a dramatic “Ta da!” and stepped back.

  While Mick and Jim went back to working on the house, the aliens quickly enjoyed this rare delicacy.

  “Heron?” asked Byron, “How will we know when it is time for us to get back to Federation space?”

  “We don’t have any connection to FedNet from down here on Dirt,” said Heron, sighing as he took another bite of his sandwich, “So we will only know when X Bear returns and tells us.”

  Noreh paused, pointing her sandwich at Heron, “So what is Section 8 about anyway? We’re in Sanctuary here on a Hunter Planet because of something you two got involved in. That X Bear just came to us in the middle of the night and said, ‘Heron and Byron need you. Do you want to go to a remote location to be with them? They have already been gone a while.’ We thought about it, and we missed you, so we thought we would come.”

  “You waited until now to ask us?” said Heron, surprised.

  Neroh and Noryb looked away, embarrassed. Noryb answered for both of them, “We missed you and in all the excitement and rush of leaving home, sneaking away from the Imperial Exploration Base in a secret shuttle and landing here on Dirt, and seeing both of you again, we sort of, um, forgot.”

  Noreh added, “And these weird Dirtlings are odd. They only have two legs and arms and one head, mostly the same boring range of shade from dark brown to almost light beige, with hair on their heads and elsewhere. Never seen anything like them in the Federation of Planets. We have millions of races, but none like them.” They all looked at Mick and Jim as they described what they had seen of the Dirtlings they had met so far. Mick was five and half feet tall, blond, clean shaven and wiry. Jim was six feet tall, dark haired, bearded and burly.

  Mick nodded at Jim who grinned and stood tall, placing his hands on his hips, donning his sunglasses and looking to the right.

  “And they’re foolishly proud of it!” mocked Heron.

  Mick and Jim laughed out loud and went back to work, not at all overhearing everything being said.

  Heron said, a little louder as he knew Mick and Jim were listening, “It’s a long story, but here is a summary. You know how we have had peace for over five hundred years because all citizens’ aggression is redirected to hunting on designated Hunter Planets?”

  Noreh nodded, “But only on planets where the locals are declared Non Compatible. They are not clever enough to grow their civilization capable of joining the Federation.”

  Noryb interrupted, “They don’t look much different to us. Well, I mean they actually do look a LOT different, but they don’t seem as if they can’t be civilized.”

  Byron said, “If they could supply more of these sandwiches, I’d let them in.”

  Mick said over his shoulder, “Tomorrow we’ll bring more, but I’m not listening.”

  Heron continued, “Well, we, that is, Byron, Nelson and I, discovered Dirt almost two years ago. We did the standard tests but because we didn’t understand anything about Dirt we chose four inappropriate subjects.”

  “Five, if you count the cow,” said Byron, “I wondered what happened to him?”

  “Anyway,” continued Heron, “We wrote a report and the tests were close enough for us to recommend a classification of ‘Off Limits’. That should have been the end of it, we would have been paid a nice bonus and continued on our way.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Byron couldn’t wait and jumped in, “But our report was swapped for one that only showed the worst part of Dirt and recommended ‘Non Compatible’. Before we could do anything, Dirt was sold off to Hunting Tours Incorporated and hunts began.”

  Noreh and Noryb gasped and said, “Who swapped the report?”

  Byron and Heron looked at each other and Heron said, “It doesn’t matter now. We had some help and were pretty upset so they put us to work doing some research. Then we came down on a hunt but we were captured.”

  “You were injured pretty bad!” added Byron, “I was worried you might have died.”

  Noreh grabbed one of Heron’s four arms tighter in two of hers.

  “But we were rescued by X Bear, the one who gathered you two,” said Heron, “X Bear and the Federation Security Force are putting together a case under an almost forgotten section of the laws that set up the Hunter Planet system, Section 8 - Reclassification of Hunter Planets.”

  “And we are vital witnesses as discoverers of Dirt and going on a hunt and …” Byron looked around at the totally not listening Mick and Jim, “We have first hand experience dealing with the local Dirtlings.”

  “So, we are stuck here for how long?” asked Noryb, looking at Byron smiling as he finished a sandwich.

  “We don’t know,” answered Heron, holding Noreh’s hands in his, “But it could be a while. These things move slowly, sometimes very slowly, according to X Bear.”

  The girls sighed and sat back in their not quite fitting chairs.

  “Don’t worry, love,” said Mick, “We’ll make you good and comfortable. If you want we can visit with the missus and kids. Jim would come too. His kids were telling him they wanted to see ‘real life aliens’”

  Grinning, Heron said, “I hope you realise that you’re the aliens. We are from the Federation. But it would be great for you to visit with your families. You know what food to bring.”

  All four aliens held up the empty plate in support.

  ****

  Patter , CEO of Hunting Tours Incorporated, was once more on a video communication with Hortense, the special ‘cleaner’ he often used to sort out messes in relation to his management of the hunter planets business. Patter was a short, four feet tall rat like creature that preferred sitting on his hover chair in his high level office overlooking The Capital, central mega city of the Federation of Planets.

  “But Hortense,” said Patter, “I know you don’t want to go back to Dirt and I wouldn’t dream of requesting that. I just need your special services to help clean up another mess. Co-incidentally it relates to Dirt but this is all within Federation space.”

  Hortense continued to stare at Patter, looming over his side of the screen with his very muscular seven foot tall rat-like frame. He did not say a word but his stare was sufficient to prompt Patter to continue.

  “We have good information that Denton, the security chief, is preparing a Section 8 case to reclassify Dirt. Of course, the case has no merit and is flawed in all the facts, but …” Patter spread his arms wide in acknowledgement that not everything goes to plan.

  Patter looked down to read a tablet his assistant Trotter had placed in front of him.

  Patter looked up and said, “We have two key witnesses who could cause… difficulties. We just need you to find them so we can have a little friendly chat. We paid them an incentive payment when they discovered Dirt and they have not respected the gift in the way it is expected.”

  “Bonus,” said Hortense.

  “Of course, of course,” said Patter airily, “Standard bonuses and incentives apply. My man Trotter here will send you the details.”

  Hortense cut the connection and Patter mused as he watched the now blank screen.

  “Trotter, send Hortense the files and whatever information we have about those two,” instructed Potter.

  Trotter nodded and tapped away at his tablet. He paused at Patter continued, “Also, what about the third discoverer, the one that accepted our incentive properly. Isn’t he working for us now?”

  “Yes, Sir, “said Trotter, “Nelson is working at the HTI hunting resort on Dirt’s moon, underneath the direction of the resort manager, Toff.”

  Trotter tapped away at his tablet and added, “We have no negative reports. Actually there are a number of positive recommendations by Toff and also the Hunter Safety Team. He seems to be a good asset to HTI.”

  “Perhaps,” said Patter, “But get in touch with Scree, our HTI representative at the resort. Have her watch Nelson to see if he is in touch with the others.”

  Trotter nodded and went to work while Patter turned and gazed over the vista of high tech city that was The Capital.

  ****

  Lord Gubbins clasped his blue tentacles in frustration as he looked across the table at his son, Sir Nitram who was studiously pretending to be nonchalant.

  “But Father,” whined Sir Nitram, “The hunt was excellent! Look at my ratings!”

  Sir Nitram held up his tablet showing lots of high numbers indicating viral support of his social media feeds.

  Lord Gubbins ignored that and said, “Boy! You went down with seven Imperial Guards and came back with three. You were injured and were close to being killed yourself. Lady Natalia was captured and we were fortunate the Hunter Safety Team lead by Harrick were able to rescue her with no further casualties.”

  “Is that what happened to her?” asked Sir Nitram, “I noticed she wasn’t there when I returned but she was back not very long later. She hasn’t talked to me much since then, but I have been so busy with my fans…”

  “Quiet!” said Lord Gubbins with a exasperated sigh, ”Don’t you understand anything?”

  Sir Nitram looked at his father with a blank expression.

  Lord Gubbins tried a different approach, “Son. Why can we hunt on Dirt?”

  Sir Nitram scoffed, “It’s a Hunter Planet, of course.”

  “Why is it a Hunter Planet?” Lord Gubbins prompted.

  Sir Nitram thought for a bit and said, “It’s Non Compatible. The Dirtlings are too stupid to join the Federation of Planets. We’re superior and they aren’t.”

  “And yet, “ continued Lord Gubbins, his voice rising at each point he made, “They had no warning and within a short space of time they killed four Imperial Guards, captured Lady Natalia and injured you!”

  “Oh yeah,” said Sir Nitram not having thought about that, “How did that happen?”

  Lord Gubbins thought of the generous incentive payments he received as support from Hunting Tours Incorporated. He also thought about the secret Section 8 case that was slowly being prepared. Being the High Chancellor provided Lord Gubbins with unrivalled access to many areas of the government and more importantly, the confidence of the Emperor.

  Lord Gubbins looked at Sir Nitram sadly. Sighing as he realised that Sir Nitram was his only son and heir, he said, “Son. Get better. We’ll chat later.”

  Sir Nitram waved and walked out, checking on his personal page to see if his support continued to increase.

  Lord Gubbins considered the problem. By their actions, it was obvious that Dirt should be ‘Off Limits’. But if that happened, the whole incentive program surrounding newly discovered planet classifications would unravel and there could be serious blowback to all involved. No, the problem needed to be sorted. Patter might be sorting things from his end, but Lord Gubbins had a better idea. He would make Dirt ‘Non Compatible’. Rather than accept reality, it would be better tho mould reality to match what he wanted. After all, he was the High Chancellor!