Jatouche (Pyreans Book 3)

by S. H. Jucha

  Judging by the intense discussion that broke out among the directors, Jaktook didn’t think it did.

  Thereafter, Jaktook received updates on the restoration progress from the directors, but it was nothing more than progress continues. It wasn’t much, but at least, it wasn’t bad news. Every evening, Jaktook relayed the same terse message to Tacticnok.

  Jaktook truly appreciated the nightly contact with the royal heir. Little did he know that Tacticnok shared his feelings. Each, in their own way, had plans for the future of the Jatouche, and they revolved around the Pyreans. Their common fear was that they lacked the power to make the crucial decisions and they lacked the experience to navigate the process of liaising with a new race.

  “I think we’re doing ourselves a disservice with these types of conversations,” Tacticnok had said one evening.

  “Are you implying that we should cease lamenting over our shortcomings?” Jaktook posited.

  “Yes, they’re making me despondent,” Tacticnok replied. “The lack of action on my father’s part is bad enough, but I’m concerned events might be transpiring on Pyre that will upset our plans.”

  “Understood,” Jaktook replied. “I propose that we converse and strategize as if we had the power to command the next steps,” Jaktook proposed.

  “In that case,” Tacticnok replied brightly. Then she launched into the edicts she’d enact if given the authority to liaise with the Pyreans. In the back of her mind, there was the niggling thought that she was acting out a fantasy.

  * * * *

  Rictook assembled the same individuals in the throne room — Tacticnok, senior advisors, and supporters — who had met with him soon after the human guests had arrived. They only individual missing was Jaktook, who kept vigil over the Pyreans’ restoration.

  Rictook eased into his throne, when everyone was present. The past cycles had been particularly hard on him. The medical services had urged him to make a personal exception to the life expediency regulation, which limited to one time the lengthening of an individual’s lifespan by altering a portion of the genes’ lengths within the body’s cells. It wasn’t Jatouche law. It was a requirement that any race had to adopt if they wished to join the alliance. But, Rictook wouldn’t listen to their entreaties.

  That wasn’t the only medical service Rictook had chosen to deny his mate and him. The couple had elected to let chance rule the sex of their offspring. This was an unpopular decision, but Rictook wished to set an example that medical technology shouldn’t rule their natural lives.

  “I’ve reached a decision about the Pyreans, and it is this: I’m not the one to make it,” Rictook announced. “It is foolish for the most senior of a race to make world-changing decisions about a future in which they won’t abide. The generations to come must have a say in how their society develops, and we’re selfish if we deny them their inherent rights. Therefore, I’m giving my eldest, Tacticnok, the right to choose how to proceed with the Pyreans. It is my hope that all of you will offer her your counsel and guide her in this endeavor that could well command the future of the Jatouche.”

  Rictook turned a hand palm up and indicated that Tacticnok should rise. By her delay to stand, he could see that she had been stunned by his decision. Such is the heavy price of leadership, daughter, Rictook thought.

  Tacticnok furiously considered her options. She didn’t want to uselessly expend this opportunity by making weak statements of thanks to her father and expressing intent to develop plans sometime in the future. The conversation with Jaktook came back to her, particularly his advice that she should listen to the advisors but choose for herself the path for the Jatouche. In her heart, she knew what she needed to do.

  Finally, Tacticnok rose. Rather than speak from her position in the court, she ascended the shallow dais to stand beside her father’s throne. Briefly and gently, she touched his shoulder before she addressed the assembly.

  “Jaktook has spent a considerable amount of time with the Pyrean engineers, while they waited for their restoration, which they’re now undergoing,” Tacticnok announced. “During his time with them, he ensured that the humans met as many alliance members as possible. On that subject, I’ve received an excellent report. The members have expressed overwhelming interest in reviewing the Pyreans’ application, if and when we submit it.”

  Tacticnok paused to order her thoughts, and then she continued. “Unfortunately, the alliance members know nothing about the conditions of Pyrean society. His Excellency, the master advisors, and I agree that under no foreseeable circumstances would the alliance approve the Pyreans’ application. In fact, most likely, there would be condemnation for contacting a species that had yet to solve the Messinants console and gate transport.”

  Tiknock indicated he would like to be heard, and Tacticnok recognized the master scientist.

  “Surely, Your Highness, the alliance would give credit to our efforts to save the Pyreans’ planet, which had been devastated by our weapon,” Tiknock said.

  “That has been considered, Tiknock,” Tacticnok replied, “and while our actions regarding contact and delivering the first intravertor might be forgiven, it would not favor an application for Pyrean admission to the alliance.”

  Tacticnok caught the brief flash of Roknick’s teeth. You think you’ve won, she thought of Roknick’s display just before she said, “However, I refuse to let the opportunity to explore this new race slip through our hands. As such, I’ll be requesting an envoy from the Pyreans.”

  Tacticnok’s comment elicited some hisses, but the majority of the audience flashed their teeth in approval.

  “Understand me,” Tacticnok said, raising a hand to quiet the room, “this isn’t a prelude to submitting a Pyrean application to the alliance. That might not happen for many annuals or might never happen. The alliance places too much weight on a species’ technological advancement. It follows the guidelines of the Messinants, which are contained in the consoles.”

  Pickcit, the master economist, signaled and stood when Tacticnok nodded to him. “I would be interested to hear what you believe you’ll accomplish by taking this direction, Your Highness,” he said.

  Tacticnok stoically withheld her reaction to Pickcit’s leading question. She knew that Tiknock and he were ardent supporters of hers, but she didn’t want to broadcast it.

  “It’s no secret that the Jatouche, despite our mastery of medical services, are treated as junior members of our illustrious organization,” Tacticnok replied. “I have this belief that a liaison with the humans can change that.”

  Roknick motioned, and Tacticnok reluctantly recognized him. Once again, Jaktook’s words were in her ear, when he urged her to allow Roknick to voice his counsel.

  “If the Pyreans can’t qualify for membership and can’t offer us anything in the way of trade or technological innovation, what good is a liaison with them?” Roknick asked. The audience could hear the advisor’s tone, which bordered on insolence.

  “I’m pleased you asked that question,” Tacticnok replied congenially, at which point Rictook carefully touched his nostril to cover his muzzle and the subtly exposed teeth.

  “I believe humans can offer us something unique,” Tacticnok continued, “and if you’re tempted to ask me what that might be, I can tell you that I don’t know. This is why I will invite an envoy and explore the opportunities.”

  “I hear and accept Her Highness Tacticnok’s pronouncement,” Roknick replied, straining to regain lost ground, “but I would urge her to request an envoy who represents the majority of the Pyreans. I’m told by Jittak that this collection of humans live in domes on the planet. The offer should be made to them to choose a suitable envoy.”

  “I will take Roknick’s advice into account before I make my final decision,” Tacticnok said gracefully. “However, as someone who spent more time in the company of the humans than Jittak, I can tell you that the invitation of a Pyrean envoy will generate a greater conversation among the humans than you could imagine
.”

  -6-

  Welcome Home

  JOS station security sergeant, Cecilia Lindstrom, was notified by a terminal arm manager of an accident, which occurred while stationers were boarding a ship. She relayed the location to the medical teams to attend the two injured stationers and filed a report with her superior, Lieutenant Devon Higgins.

  The incident had Cecilia wondering to what extent the Jatouche would be able to help Pyre’s engineers. If the aliens were successful, she considered the extensive number of injured stationers and spacers. More important, she wondered how Pyreans could induce the Jatouche to help them.

  About the time the medical teams arrived on the JOS terminal arm to aid the stationers, a bridge tech aboard the colony ship, Honora Belle, uttered, “Uh-oh, they’re back.”

  Beatrice “Birdie” Andrews turned her head around to regard the monitor the tech pointed out. It was a fixed transmission from the Triton dome. The light from the platform was fading, and three Jatouche stood on the platform.

  “Dingles, Jatouche arriving,” Birdie snapped out over her comm device.

  “Understood, Birdie. I’ll notify Captain Harbour and then alert Captain Cinders aboard the Spryte,” Dingles, aka Mitch Bassiter, replied. He quickly relayed the message to Captain Harbour, who was near the bridge.

  Kractik descended the dome’s platform and hurried to the console. A few taps on a panel engaged a comm transmission protocol to the Pyrean colony ship, which she’d programmed after their first arrival.

  “Hello, Kractik, welcome back,” Birdie greeted the console operator, when her face appeared on a comm monitor.

  “Thank you for your generous words, Birdie,” Kractik replied. “Her Highness Tacticnok would speak to your Captain.”

  “She’s on her way,” Birdie replied.

  “Birdie, connect Captain Cinders to this comm,” Harbour sent, as she hurried to the bridge.

  “Ituau reports that he’s on the way to the Spryte’s bridge. Be there in three,” Birdie replied.

  “Thank you, Birdie,” Harbour acknowledged.

  When Harbour entered the colony ship’s bridge, her face lit up, and Tacticnok’s image on the monitor responded in kind.

  “It’s good to see you again, Your Highness,” Harbour said.

  “The feeling is reciprocated,” Tacticnok replied.

  “We have Captain Cinders,” Birdie whispered.

  Harbour hand signaled Birdie, who split the screen for Tacticnok’s view.

  “Your Highness,” Jessie said, when his monitor reflected the Belle’s transmission.

  “After such a period of time since we last met, Captain Cinders, I would have expected you to have adopted a greater vocabulary,” Tacticnok riposted.

  Jessie observed Harbour’s laugh, Tacticnok’s flash of teeth, and the smirks and chuckles of his bridge crew.

  “I like to save them up so that I have plenty to throw at the people who annoy me,” Jessie retorted in a growl, but he punctuated his statement with a grin.

  “I’m pleased to see you both in good health,” Tacticnok said.

  “We’re fine,” Harbour replied. “What of our engineers?” she asked.

  Tacticnok was delighted to hear Harbour’s first question after pleasantries were exchanged. It did much to confirm that she’d made the right choice for envoy.

  Jaktook tapped Kractik on the arm, and the tech initiated the Q-gate’s transfer and shifted the console’s view to encompass the dome’s deck.

  The bridge crews of the Belle and the Spryte saw the platform light, and three figures dressed in spacer skins and a stack of crates appeared.

  The figures raced to the console, and Kractik shifted the view.

  “Hello, Captains Harbour and Cinders,” a woman, with an inviting face and broad smile, said.

  “Olivia,” Harbour exclaimed, recognizing the engineer’s voice.

  “Fantastic, isn’t it?” Olivia enthused. “No more sharing my food with whoever is seated beside me.” She laughed, and it was a rich, full-throated sound.

  “Check this out, Captain,” Bryan said. He held up his new arm and waggled his fingers at the console. Then he danced a few steps to demonstrate his new leg.

  “I can’t believe it,” Harbour enthused, joyfully clapping her hands.

  “I’d be happy to show you my repair,” Pete declared, with a broad grin, and spread his arms wide.

  “Don’t listen to him, Captain,” Olivia shouted, laughing. “He’s been dying to say that to the first Pyrean woman he met after returning. We’ve had to put up with his endless parading around our room, while he showed off his new appearance.”

  The Jatouche watched the enormous delight the engineers got from displaying their repaired bodies. And such a simple thing, Tacticnok thought, incredulous that any sentient society didn’t possess these medical capabilities.

  “Your Highness, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for our people,” Harbour said, tears forming in her eyes for the generous gift bestowed by the royal daughter.

  “I think you can, Captain,” Tacticnok replied.

  Quickly, Jessie sat forward in his captain’s chair, and Harbour’s eyes dried.

  “My father, His Excellency Rictook,” Tacticnok continued, “has left it to me to choose whether to develop a relationship with Pyreans. And, I’ve decided to request the Pyreans send an envoy to Na-Tikkook, specifically you, Captain Harbour.”

  “There are others who are much more qualified than me, Tacticnok,” Harbour replied, slipping into the familiar address, despite the audience who was witnessing the exchange.

  Ituau noticed Jessie’s frown and wondered what aspect of the conversation concerned him.

  “I thought you might wish to offer others in your stead, Captain,” Tacticnok replied. “It’s one of the reasons that I’ve chosen you. To help you in your decision, Captain, I’ve two inducements.”

  “Uh-oh,” Jessie muttered under his breath.

  “Rissness Station will accept twenty Pyreans who are in need of medical services. This will continue in a cycle of every half-annual, while you’re the envoy and our talks demonstrate progress.”

  “That isn’t fair, Tacticnok,” Harbour objected.

  “What’s the second inducement, Your Highness?” Jessie asked.

  Logical and business-minded, Tacticnok thought of Jessie. “The crates on the platform are for Pyre. We’re prepared to send your world the intravertor parts to build more devices at the rate of three each quarter annual.”

  “I take it the stipulation is that we get the parts as long as Captain Harbour accepts your proposal to become the envoy,” Jessie clarified.

  “You understand me correctly, Captain,” Tacticnok replied.

  “Captain,” Bryan said, stepping close to the console, “there is an incredible world on the other end of this gate. Pyreans need to be part of it.”

  Harbour took in the expectant faces of the engineers.

  “Captain,” Jessie said, his heart heavy at what he was about to propose, “I think you might need to step up and shoulder the responsibility.”

  “I’m pleased to hear you say that, Captain Cinders,” Tacticnok said. “I have one more condition, Captain Harbour. You’ll need a master advisor, and I’ve selected Captain Cinders for you.”

  “Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Ituau whispered.

  Jessie shook his head at the masterful way that Tacticnok had played her hand. “One day, you’ll be a clever ruler, Your Highness,” he said.

  “It’s my hope, Captain Cinders,” Tacticnok replied.

  “Choosing me as an envoy is one thing,” Harbour said, “but I’ll be ineffective without the support of Pyre’s leaders.”

  “This was expected, Captain,” Tacticnok replied. “I offer the medical services for the twenty Pyreans and these parts to build the next intravertor in the hope of helping you resolve your internal politics successfully. Kractik will program the console so that your engineers can call us when you
r people are ready. Also, she will train them in initiating a call to you on the Belle. To your success, Captains.”

  Tacticnok and Jaktook mounted the platform, and Kractik sent them home. Then the call to the colony ship ended.

  “Birdie, Captain Cinders on a private link to me,” Harbour said, waving her device at the comms operator. She exited the bridge and headed for the captain’s quarters. The link was established before she made her door, but she waited until she was inside to respond.

  “I’m not sure what just happened, Jessie,” Harbour said in a rush. She was pacing and holding a hand to her forehead.

  “We were played by a young royal heir, who has learned a great deal from what I suspect is a wise, old father,” Jessie replied, chuckling.

  “Why are you laughing?” Harbour asked, with exasperation.

  “Look at what Tacticnok did,” Jessie replied. “It was masterful. She returns three of our people fully rehabilitated and looking years younger. On top of that, she entices you with the offer of sending twenty more Pyreans.”

  “Don’t forget about the intravertor parts,” Harbour reminded him.

  “The parts aren’t for you, or us, for that matter, Harbour,” Jessie replied. He was taking the call from his quarters, sitting forward in his favorite chair, with his elbows on his knees. “Tacticnok was smart and adroit in her offers. The first one was extended to you, and she knew it would tempt you.”

  “The medical services,” Harbour said, realizing what Jessie was saying.

  “Yes,” Jessie acknowledged. “The parts are bribes for the Pyrean leaders, who will object to the heir choosing you.”

  “I’ve got to think on this,” Harbour said. She checked her unit’s chronometer. “You haven’t got much time, Jessie, you’d better hurry.”

  “What?” Jessie asked, failing to understand Harbour’s segue.

  “You need to get your butt over here for dinner and start advising me. That’s your new job, isn’t it?” Harbour asked pointedly.

  “Be there soon,” Jessie replied.