by Petra Landon
“Go for it, Zh’hir” he urged. “Or you might regret never taking the chance.”
He hesitated, as memories assailed him. “Regrets are very hard to live with.”
This time, he had the Star Captain’s attention. Gold eyes tangled with black ones.
“I was under the impression that you have no regrets” Zh’hir remarked delicately, with some caution. He had had ample opportunity to observe Saakshi with the Hadari’Kor Captain.
Zoran’s face showed emotion. “I went about it the wrong way — a little too eager to snatch at it when an opportunity presented itself.”
There was a pregnant pause as they digested what each had admitted in the course of the conversation.
“Do your people have laws against it?” Zoran asked abruptly. The Ur’quay were only now emerging from centuries of isolation. In his experience, those that believed in segregating themselves usually frowned on relationships with outsiders. That would explain his Ur’quay friend’s brooding mood. Breaking free of centuries of tradition did not come easily to most.
At his counterpart’s puzzled glance, Zoran explained. “Against relationships with other races.”
“Ur’quay law states that no Space Force warrior on active duty is allowed an Ur’quay female of his own” the Star Captain quoted the law precisely.
“What about a non-Ur’quay female?”
“The law says nothing about them because for centuries, the Ur’quay have had no opportunity to interact with others.”
“Hmm” Zoran murmured thoughtfully. So Ur’quay law wasn’t responsible for his friend’s uncharacteristic melancholy. But he had to admit that a law that decreed the best of Ur’quay warriors not be allowed to take mates made absolutely no sense. No wonder Ur’quay birth rates were in decline.
“That law your people have on the books makes no sense.” Zoran was frank.
“It was made centuries ago, Zoran. The birth rate was low and fewer females were being born than males. The High Council of that time believed that excluding Space Force warriors on active duty would increase chances of procreation. The idea was to improve the falling birth rate.”
Zoran frowned. “Don’t the cream of your warriors join the Space Force?”
“Yes.” The answer was brief and succinct.
“Then …?”
“It had the opposite effect of what the High Council intended. The best of Ur’quay join the Space Force and by the time a warrior retires from active duty, he is past his prime.”
A heavy silence descended over the table.
“What a fucking mess.” Zoran’s voice held compassion.
The Star Captain’s expression twisted subtly. “The Ur’quay did not get to this point easily, Zoran. Centuries of bad decisions with disastrous consequences, compounded by isolationist tendencies have reduced us to this. Once, we were an ascendant race, admired by many, not only in our sector but across the galaxy.
To Zh’hir, it was the ultimate irony that on a mission to reverse their destiny, the Ur’quay had stumbled upon a devastating example of a civilization that had lost its way, plummeting from its glorious past to an ignominious present and a future that appeared equally bleak. The Budheya’s dramatic reversal of fortunes was not that dissimilar to that of the Ur’quay. The Budheya’s fate was a lesson he wanted desperately to heed. While the Ur’quay stood in no danger of being enslaved by a mightier race, they teetered at the edge of a dangerous precipice. With this mission to Sector Araloka, the High Council had taken a step in the right direction. But only drastic action that went against centuries-old beliefs, coupled with some luck, held a chance of reversing their fortunes.
“Are there many on your world who believe, like you, that the Ur’quay must engage with other races?” Zoran inquired quietly. He had wondered whether there was resistance on the Ur’quay home world to this mission to re-engage, after centuries of segregation.
“Many believe that our isolationist past has caused immense damage to our civilization” the Star Captain acknowledged. “They are rooting for our mission here to succeed and understand that our survival depends on forging allies and new partnerships. The hope is that the others will soon experience the benefits of opening up when the first of the Aralokan shtoal reaches Ur’Qia.”
“Then, what’s the problem?” Zoran looked puzzled. “She’s not Ur’quay and your laws do not prevent you pursuing a relationship with her.”
Somber gold eyes met candid dark ones, a lurking message in their depths that stilled the Hadari’Kor male. “The Ur’quay are dying, Zoran. If Aralokan shtoal is guaranteed, it will improve our chances. But barring a miracle, the Ur’quay will be wiped out in a few generations.”
The silverware slipped from Zoran’s hands to clatter to the table. Stunned speechless, he stared at his friend in shock. Something drastic had forced the Ur’quay to reverse their stance after centuries — their very presence in Sector Araloka pointed to that. But Zoran had assumed that the depredations to their world had made the Ur’quay eager for new trading partners. Now, he realized that matters were far more dire. It was desperation that had driven them back to Sector Araloka.
“The Ur’quay High Council realized this fourteen months ago” the Star Captain admitted somberly. “It was not announced publicly, though many on Ur’Qia suspect it. Space Force was told because the High Council needs our assistance. Archives from our long-ago starfaring ancestors were dug up to be combed over and the first wave of exploratory missions was dispatched. It consisted of four expeditions, including that to Sector Araloka — we came looking for shtoal. Of the first wave, only ours was judged to have a path to success. On Ur’Qia, they continue to pore over our treasure trove of archives from the past, mission reports of expeditions far and wide, to search for something that might help revive our fortunes. But it might well be too little too late. The galaxy has changed since our ancestors were last out exploring it.”
Zoran shook his head, his shock clear. “I didn’t realize …” his voice trailed off.
“We’re teetering right on the edge, Zoran” the Ur’quay warrior confessed. “There’s also infighting on the High Council about the path forward. There was resistance to our expedition to Sector Araloka from some influential members of the Council. But Space Force insisted on it —the starfarers’ reports not only pointed to shtoal deposits, they also indicated that we had once won many friends in this sector. We will need all the friends we can get if we’re to have any chance of digging ourselves out of this hole. Space Force realizes it and is starting to push back strongly against the High Council. Also, now that they know the truth, many blame the Council’s policies for leading us to edge of the cliff.”
Zoran took a deep breath, trying to come to grips with what he was being told. “Have the Ur’quay considered letting your fleet loose on the Imperial Forces?”
Much as he wanted to smash the Empire to smithereens, Zoran realized that the Ur’quay’s need was even more urgent. The very survival of their race depended on it. Peace in Sector Araloka might just give the Ur’quay a fighting chance.
“We don’t have the numbers, Zoran” the Star Captain said heavily, his answer hinting that the Ur’quay had considered it. “We possess the technology, the starships and the warriors, but not the numbers to defeat the Imperial Forces. But allied with the Armada, we can halt their advance and dismantle the Ketaari Empire, once and for all.”
They stared at each other, the weight of the Ur’quay’s fate between them.
Zh’hir broke the silence. “With the right assets, Kerovac can win you this war. We did our homework on him, Zoran. With the Ur’quay on his side, and the chance of a rebellion on Budheyasta, Commander Kerovac stands a good chance of a decisive victory. This is why I’m content to defer to him on strategy. Kerovac knows the sector, the strong-points of his allies, the strengths of the Armada and the weaknesses of the Ketaari far better than I do. The Ur’quay will fight where Commander Kerovac directs us to.”
Zoran straightened, his eyes on his companion. “I begin to understand the burden you carry on your shoulders, Star Captain. Your fleet will decide the war. And that might well determine the future of the Ur’quay.”
“But don’t deny yourself the chance at happiness because your High Council screwed up your future, Zh’hir” he said urgently.
“I will watch over her and guard her, Zoran. It might have to be enough.”
“Why?” Zoran shook his head. “A sense of obligation for an accident that turned her life upside down?”
“No.” The gold eyes met his. “It is more than that. Much more. But it must be from a distance.”
And suddenly, Zoran understood the dilemma the Star Captain faced. “Sila’s abilities” he muttered. His friend had already admitted to breaking Ur’quay law once to protect Sila.
“Like you said, the Ur’quay Fleet will decide the outcome of the war” the Star Captain acknowledged. “If I jeopardize my command, it might affect our fate.”
“And ours too, Zh’hir” the Hadari’Kor Captain reminded his friend. While the Imperial Forces ran rampant, Sector Araloka would burn. And the Budheya would never be free.
Zoran leant back in his seat to contemplate his friend.
“Let me ask you a question, Zh’hir. When Sila was taken by the slavers, you were willing to chase after her to Keeyor 9. That would have risked what Commander Kerovac has asked for — the right time to announce your presence. What if I had not been around or unwilling to help — would you still have gone after her?”
“Yes.” The answer came promptly, without any hesitation.
Zoran smiled. “It seems to me that your decision has already been made. Sila’s new job will give her a higher profile than before. Before, she was a farmer on a provincial world. Now, she will work with the Alliance and live on their station. And she will no longer be a distant presence, instead her life will be entangled with yours, with all that it entails. If you wanted to watch over her from a distance, Zh’hir, you’ve gone about it the wrong way.”
The mercenary’s words seemed to strike a chord with the Star Captain. As arrested gold eyes swung to him, Zoran picked up his silverware to resume his meal, satisfied at having made his point. He ate in silence, while the Star Captain remained lost in thought.
His Hadari’Kor friend had it right, Zh’hir mused silently. When it came to Sila, he had already made his decision. If truth be told, he’d made it a long time ago, when the future had looked bleaker and unclear. It was Sila’s circumstances that had thrown him for a loop, making him question his choices. Despite what Sila believed, the Ur’quay’s actions had resulted in her pariah status on her world. This was beyond his ability to correct. With her secret, Sila would always be vulnerable, but it was the Ur’quay with their abilities who posed the greatest threat to her. He was the commander of the Ur’quay Fleet in Sector Araloka. If he did not keep his distance, sooner or later, Sila would find herself up against Ur’quay dogma. Yet, despite the threat, he had kept Sila in his orbit as Zoran had reminded him. From the many different ways he could assist her, he had chosen to keep Sila close despite the risks. He sighed. The Ur’quay had destroyed her life once. He must tread very carefully, or he might jeopardize her second attempt at building one.
When Zoran put his plate away to glance up, steady gold eyes met his gaze.
“You are right, Zoran. Circumstances have changed. The old rules do not apply any more. Unless I want them to. This is the start of a new chapter for me, as much as it is a new beginning for the Ur’quay. For us both, the future will be what we make of it. Thank you for reminding me of this.”
EIGHT
Sila fidgeted nervously, drawing the attention of the other occupant in the room. They awaited Elder Arturo in a conference chamber on the Juntafeyore. The Hadari’Kor starship had joined two Alliance ships in orbit around Terra Agri 5 and a shuttle had been dispatched to the planet to transport the Elder. Earlier in the day, she had been invited to a briefing that detailed the elaborate plans drawn up to ensure that the Star Captain remained incognito on this visit to her world. Though unclear about the reasons, Sila understood that the secrecy was at the direction of the powerful Commander of the Alliance Armada. Even on Terra Agri, news had abounded about the exploits of Un Kieto Maal, the augmented Alliance Commander from Iovaca Prime, destined to lead Sector Araloka to victory over the Ketaari Empire. Clearly, he meant the presence of the Ur’quay to be kept a secret even from other members of the Alliance. Sila, now destined for an Alliance station, had been provided with a back story — much of the events that involved the Star Captain and the Ur’quay were not be shared.
“Regrets?”
The query, simple as it was, pierced through Sila’s restlessness. She turned to him. “For what?”
The Star Captain said nothing, merely meeting her eyes. Attired in the black uniform of the Hadari’Kor mercenaries, he stood fluidly at ease, eschewing the plentiful seats in the chamber, as always. The armor that fit him like a second skin had been abandoned. An all-encompassing robe like the one he had worn on their first visit to Keeyor 9 lay tossed over the back of a seat.
“No.” Sila shook her head. “No regrets, Star Captain.”
“You must have friends you will miss?” he pressed her.
“No one special” she said firmly.
“My ability made it hard to make friends” she confessed softly. “I was wary that anyone who got too close would guess my secret.”
His expression softened. “What troubles you?”
Sila’s nose wrinkled. “Just a little nervous, Star Captain. All these rules about what to say and not.”
As a frown marred the exotic visage, Sila rushed into speech. “I won’t have any trouble on the Alliance station. They’re strangers. Elder Arturo is not.”
The Star Captain reached for the discarded robe to shrug it on, pulling the hood down to obscure his face.
“Don’t worry, little Terran. I won’t let you get into trouble.”
The note in his voice had her straightening — a subtle mix of reassurance and something else. But before she could react, Commander Jolar ushered Elder Arturo into the chamber. Astonishment banished the other, more complicated emotions. Did the Ur’quay have enhanced hearing, Sila wondered. How else had he known when to don the robe? For a moment, a sense of disquiet assailed her. He was privy to all her secrets and yet, still such an enigma to her.
Elder Arturo paused uncertainly inside the chamber. He cast wary eyes around only to have his attention caught by the massive alien clad in a voluminous robe that made him appear more imposing than usual. The Elder’s jaw dropped as he stared mutely at the Star Captain. If Sila had not been so nervous, she’d have burst into giggles at the Elder’s reaction. Instead, she hurried to greet the older male. Elder Arturo’s eyes snapped to her, his face lighting up with pleasure. The kind brown eyes softened with a strange mix of relief and shame.
“Sila” he exclaimed. “Thank the Goddess! I’ve been so worried, child. The Alliance’s people would tell me nothing about you.”
Sila hurled herself into his arms, her affection clear. This might be the last time she saw his familiar face. Elder Arturo hugged her back with equal vigor.
“I’m so relieved, child. And so very sorry” he murmured. “I never imagined that they would take you away.”
“I know” Sila said softly. She was determined that Elder Arturo not be saddled with the consequences of her decision. She had walked willingly onto the Keeyori ship in a last-ditch attempt to send an SOS to the one person she knew could help them. She’d never have gambled so if she had not been desperate to save her world. And tortured with guilt for having inadvertently brought this trouble down on them, a voice whispered in her head.
“I’m safe now. As you can see, I’ve not been harmed in any way” she reassured him.
Sila pinned a Hadari’Kor translator device onto his work-suit.
“This is Alliance Representative Mu’raat,
Elder Arturo.” She made the introductions, mindful of what she had been briefed. “He and the Hadari’Kor helped me get away from the slavers.”
Elder Arturo directed a grateful smile at the robed male.
“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Representative Mu’raat. I’ve been worried sick about Sila. She saved us, and I have been powerless to assist her. It has been eating me alive” he admitted candidly.
Zh’hir acknowledged the heartfelt words with a courteous nod.
The Elder stepped forward to hold his hand out in the traditional greeting of his world. “I’m Arturo Farmer.”
The Star Captain shook the hand held out to him politely before inviting the Elder to seat himself.
“I understand that Sseela is no longer welcome on your world.” His words fell uncomfortably into the silence.
Zh’hir had no intention of trying to browbeat the Elder but he did want the Terran to squirm a little for what he was allowing his people to do to Sila. The Terrans had been more than happy to use Sila to save their skins, only to cast her aside once they were safe.
“Yes” the Elder admitted gruffly, without prevarication. “If it were up to me, she would be given a hero’s welcome for what she did. Unfortunately, I am but one Elder on the Council and do not have the power to overrule them on this matter.”
He turned his attention to the girl seated by him.
“I’m sorry, child. More sorry than I can tell you. Your father entrusted you to my care. In the past few days, I’ve begun to realize how remiss I’ve been in keeping my promise” he apologized contritely to Sila.
“Your wife and you have always been very kind to me, Elder Arturo.” Affection colored Sila’s voice. “I have no regrets. Everyone is safe now and you should banish all regret too” she reiterated firmly.
The Elder said nothing more but his face reflected his anguish, dismay and shame at the treatment meted out to her.
“I’ve arranged a job for you on Jinto 3 with a friend of mine, Sila. It is a school for young girls” he said earnestly. “We can visit with each other when I travel to the Trade Exchange” he added wistfully.