SeptStar

by Blaze Ward

  “How may I be of service today, Wyll?” Daniel finally asked, having completed the requisite meandering.

  Wyll responded by reaching into his jacket and pulling out a chip.

  “I visited the academy library and found you some reference material,” he said.

  Daniel nodded and pulled out an Anndaing reader tablet he kept in a nearby drawer. The form and function was almost identical to one he’d brought with him from SeekerStar, but the internals were so radically different that they’d just gone ahead and given him a second one for local technology.

  Joane had one as well, but didn’t spend nearly as much time staring at hers.

  He plugged the chip into the side and brought up a file listing.

  Daniel looked at Wyll sharply.

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “An interstellar culture might fade out, but a good library never loses anything,” Wyll nodded. “Some things, however, do get misplaced from time to time. We were hoping you might be able to magically read some of these files. I don’t even know the character set two of them are written in.”

  “Roahrt and Z’lud,” Daniel answered carefully. “The Ovanii will be obvious, because they use your alphabet, and the K’bari is still fresh enough that you should have scholars who can read it.”

  “Yes,” Wyll agreed. “How is it that you know the other two, Daniel Lémieux?”

  Daniel stared at the shark for a long moment. He felt Joane tense, ever so slightly, but she would not initiate violence. Wyll, however, wouldn’t even make it out of that chair before she tackled him, if it came to violence.

  Daniel reached out with his mind and touched Wyll Koobitz. Not sufficient to read anything, but so that he could catch the emotional signature of things roiling underneath.

  They had just walked out onto thin, spring ice, the two of them. But Wyll Koobitz had intentionally provoked it.

  Daniel wondered what sorts of security systems were monitoring the room right at this moment. And how quickly teams of armed killers might come through the doors, windows, and possibly even walls.

  Wyll Koobitz was a power in the Merchants Guild, regardless of what stories he might tell alien chefs.

  “Before she killed Urid-Varg, the conqueror had been preparing me to be his next vessel,” Daniel replied carefully. It was not a lie he could be caught out in later, even as he left out key bits, like the gem hidden at the base of his throat under his clothing. “Part of that includes access to…not his memories, as I had no memory of being Urid-Varg, but the other beings that he had, let us call it ridden for now. I can occasionally access their memories of being alive, for lack of a better way to describe it. A number of them were K’bari. And there are also many Z’lud, considering how long he ruled them. Because these people chose to aid me, I can read Ovanii. One of them was also Roahrt and I can see the letters on this screen side by side with the Spacer and the French I know. Perhaps an odd mix of the two, but enough that I can translate them.”

  “But you are not Urid-Varg?” Wyll’s voice got tense.

  “Urid-Varg is dead,” Daniel scowled. “I beat his body to death. Kathra killed his mind.”

  “How?”

  Daniel did not move, aware that Wyll Koobitz would not be pushing this hard by himself. Armed warriors who were confident that they could overcome both him and Joane were nearby. When Daniel listened, he could hear them, poised right at the edge of his perception.

  Many of them.

  “He had a device,” Daniel explained, sliding closer to the truth than he had before.

  But Kathra needed these people as allies. Friends, even. A safe port for the Mbaysey.

  “A device?” Wyll asked, unconsciously leaning forward, mug apparently forgotten in one hand.

  “It contained his mind, if you will,” Daniel said. “He had transferred himself into some sort of computer program when his original body died, twelve thousand human years ago. I am just a chef, so please don’t ask me how he did it. But killing the body of his host did not kill that device. The thing called to me, and began to transform my mind into a receptacle he could take control of, even though we thought he was dead. I have the memories of the others, at least before each of them was taken in turn. Kathra blasted the thing with a pistol identical to the one Joane has, and freed me. And believe me, she is far less trusting about such things than the Anndaing.”

  “So you are no longer human, per se?” Wyll asked tightly, his hammer flexed forward and eyes zeroed in on Daniel.

  “Not just human, I suppose,” Daniel corrected him. “I can read K’bari, Z’lud, and Roahrt, however slowly. I’ve actually gotten pretty good at Ovanii, only because for such a martial culture, they had such interesting poetry.”

  “Really?” Wyll asked, perhaps deflected enough that he didn’t pursue Daniel into the web of evasions he had just laid out.

  “Indeed,” Daniel agreed. “I think I uploaded a copy of that original book. I know that Crence had a copy and was supposed to file it, but as it was love poetry from a dead species, it might not have gotten much attention.”

  “You said dead?” Wyll asked.

  “I presume dead,” Daniel nodded. “The K’bari had memories of the Anndaing defeating that people so resolutely that they vanished from K’bari history at a certain point. We have often wondered, Kathra and I, if an interstellar species can go extinct, or if they just fade to irrelevance after long enough that it doesn’t matter.”

  “And you’re interested in the Ovanii?” Wyll asked.

  They’d already gone over this before, but Daniel realized that they were either concerned enough to do something to him and Joane, or close to deciding to help them.

  “SeekerStar, for all its martial capabilities, is not a warship,” Daniel said. “Yes, it is far more heavily armed than most craft that size, and carries within it Spectre gunships that are also dangerous, but a Septagon is a force of nature that cannot be directly resisted. And Patrols come in swarms that one must usually flee. But the Ovanii built warships designed for direct combat on a regular basis according to their own stories.”

  “They did,” Wyll agreed, himself giving off waves of evasion, but Daniel did not dive directly into his mind. Not yet, anyway. “They were, in their time, a terrible scourge of piracy upon the Anndaing, before we broke them.”

  “Yes,” Daniel nodded. “Kathra Omezi would like to be able to go do terrible things to the Sept, for reasons that I included in my various notes, and Crence no doubt elaborated on himself.”

  “And only the Sept?” Wyll asked.

  Daniel could hear the breakthrough in the shark’s voice now. The triumph, if he could call it that.

  “The Free Worlds would have been our home, had that been allowed,” Daniel replied, still wondering at the use of our in that context, but he was Mbaysey now. Nothing would ever change that. “A’Alhakoth ver’Shingi gave us a new option hopefully so far away from the Sept that we would be safe after they proved that they would violate Free Worlds borders just to come after us. Crence just happened to be in the right place during the week we were at that place, and could meet him. He cut months off the journey and let us go directly to the worlds and people we needed to meet.”

  “And having met them?” Wyll pressed.

  “I am a researcher, Wyll,” Daniel said. “My job is to find Kathra Omezi the tools to protect her people, and maybe go back with her someday and do terrible things to the Sept. Her job is to insure the survival of the Mbaysey itself, so more interesting questions will probably only be answered when you ask her yourself.”

  Daniel did lean back now. Wyll was relaxing, so perhaps they were past the crux.

  He was really looking forward to introducing Wyll Koobitz to the Commander.

  Thirty

  Kathra studied the twenty-two faces of the Clan leaders, seated around her in the comitatus dining hall. Her own women were here as well, lacking only Daniel and Joane from the last such meeting, the one before they had ch
osen deep space.

  “And that, my friends, is what I feel is the best plan for us, at least for the present,” she finished her explanation. “We will leave the rest of you here and go retrieve Daniel.”

  Titilayo Okafor stared at Kathra for a long moment as the others fell silent and waited. Nobody wanted to be the first to argue, but Kathra had no doubts that such was coming.

  “If they can track him and not us, are we not better off in the long term, if he is away from the Tribal Squadron?” Titilayo asked.

  It was not a hostile question, at least on the surface, but several women growled or gasped in response.

  “It is a good question,” Kathra replied to the room, looking at the various clan leaders seated here. “And the correct answer is that we might be able to hide from the Sept for many years if they had all of deep space to seek us.”

  She paused, letting her face fall into something terrible for them to behold. Not rage, but perhaps not far short of it.

  “But he is Mbaysey,” Kathra continued. “Should we set a precedent where someday it might be a better choice to abandon a ClanStar? And more importantly, Daniel is comitatus.”

  “He is a male,” someone on her right shouted in an angry voice.

  Several others agreed noisily.

  “Yes, he is,” Kathra said to that side of the room. “That should tell you a great deal about the value I place on him as a person. Daniel might be more important to the survival of the tribe than any of you.”

  She got a number of rude responses to that, but all lacked heat. The Mbaysey did not leave their own behind. While the comitatus was sworn to die in her service if necessary, they would also ride to the rescue of one of their own.

  And Daniel was as much a part of those women as Joane.

  Nkiru Okeke rose from where she sat in back. Tiny, as the woman went, she was also among the oldest of the clan leaders, as most chose to stand down when they reached a certain age, unwilling or unable to continue to execute their duties. Nkiru had not been ground down by her seventy years.

  Kathra wasn’t sure the stone existed that could grind Nkiru down.

  “Why did you really send Daniel to Ogrorspoxu, Kathra?” the woman asked, staring this way with penetrating eyes. “You could have sent Koni Swift as your messenger and bade the lords of the Anndaing come to you here. Or sent any other of the comitatus. Why him?”

  Kathra stared at the woman. Yagazie had considered Nkiru a dear aunt in her own time, although Kathra did not have as close a relationship with the woman as her mother had. But Nkiru would be one of the leaders of this council if Kathra Omezi left them to Concursion.

  Or did not return.

  “We need the Anndaing as allies,” Kathra replied. “Sending them an ambassador shows politeness on our part. But you are correct, any of the others could have gone in his stead. He had a second mission there.”

  “What?” Nkiru asked.

  “Research, for a much longer-term goal of mine,” Kathra replied. “At some point, it will be necessary to fight the Sept. They have made it clear that even the Free Worlds are not sufficient to stop them from chasing the Mbaysey. Trying to bring us to bay. By coming this far, we have only delayed their retribution. We have not stopped it.”

  “And what will Daniel be able to do?” Nkiru asked as the women around her waited silently.

  “I’ve asked him to find me a warship,” Kathra said. “Something that we can use to take the war to the Sept. They could only chase us as far as Tavle Jocia with hidden bases that will eventually become the foundation of a full invasion of the Free Worlds. All of you know that the Sept will not rest until all humanity is under their yoke.”

  That point scored home, as many of the woman barked their support.

  “At some point, even that will be insufficient for their dear Emperor at Rhages,” Kathra continued. “They may never rest, once they discover how many aliens are out there for them to conquer and oppress. How many Tazos do you think they would have if they were truly masters of all they survey?”

  The woman were getting raucous now. Even the youngest tribe member born on a ClanStar had been raised with tales of their old reservation. Most of these women actually remembered it well, although Kathra had only vague memories.

  But Tazo was the past. SeekerStar represented at least a slice of her future.

  Nkiru raised a hand to calm the mob and waited while her peers settled.

  “Yes,” she said, staring at Kathra and even surprising her by agreeing.

  The rest of the room let out a similar sound of surprise that it might be over that quickly.

  “However,” Nkiru continued before anyone could speak, “you must remain here, Kathra Omezi. On this I will not budge.”

  Kathra felt her chin come up, in spite of being nearly a head taller than the older woman.

  “Why is that, Nkiru Okeke?” Kathra asked, striving mightily to restrain her sudden rage at this woman who proposed to set bounds on the Commander of the Mbaysey.

  “Because we could lose all of the comitatus and not fall,” Nkiru replied. “Lose SeekerStar and whatever other vessels and pirates you recruited to help us fight. But you are the Mbaysey, Kathra, and you do not have a daughter who might someday lead us. You lead because we chose to follow, but you are also Yagazie’s daughter, and filled with her fire. Without that, the Mbaysey are just a bunch of old women.”

  Kathra was astounded at the woman’s sheer audacity to suggest such a thing. But she could see sudden nods and fierce smiles on many of the other women.

  Even Erin did not smother her grin quickly enough, but then her own face fell as she realized that she might have to give up flying and fighting as well, if she truly intended to raise a sister to Kathra’s child.

  The whole universe would change overnight. Areen, Kam, and Joane would be senior among her comitatus at that point. Plus, Kathra would have to recruit many aliens to her side and her cause.

  Could she just become a queen, seated safely someplace safe like Kanus, while the others went out and fought her wars for her?

  Nkiru’s smile promised exactly that as the only acceptable outcome to the twenty-two clan leaders facing her now, faces drawn sharp and taut.

  Kathra drew a deep breath and let the feeling of helplessness wash over her and recede, like waves on the surface of an ocean supposedly did. She had brought the Mbaysey to this moment, asking these women to make sacrifices.

  It was their prerogative to demand sacrifices from her. Forty faces studied her now, awaiting that moment when the future emerged from its cocoon.

  “No,” Kathra said.

  “No?”

  “Not yet. The comitatus have always been warriors,” Kathra pronounced. “If this works and Daniel is successful, then I will need women, and perhaps even men, who can become aspbads and even naupatis. They may come from within your ClanStars, so I will charge each of you with finding them among your own. And I will charge the entire Mbaysey with recruiting more of them.”

  “But?” Nkiru asked, picking up on the subtleties in Kathra’s voice.

  “But first I must go and bring Daniel home safely,” Kathra replied. “After that, I will return here for good and we will prepare for war.”

  Thirty-One

  Daniel rode in the rear of a luxurious ground car, humming across the blacktop surface as they entered the starport and began to wend their way through the larger ships back towards a far corner of the vast reservation.

  Joane did not fidget, but he could feel her excitement from where their thighs touched. She nearly vibrated with energy, and even smiled occasionally.

  Had he not known better, Daniel would have thought she was under the influence of some fantastically interesting pharmacological compounds. Kitchens were notorious for various substances ingested to get you going, slow you down, or lift you off the surface of a planet.

  He had not generally participated, if only because being an Executive Chef left one so little time to actually turn o
ff from the job. You were always planning future meals, dealing with catastrophes, soothing fragile egos, or banging heads together to get people to behave.

  Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, so he turned to her.

  “What?” he asked simply.

  Her grin was infectious, in spite of her general nerdiness most of the time.

  “Boneyard,” she giggled simply, as if that said it all.

  Maybe it did for her, but Daniel was lost.

  “Boneyard?” he asked.

  “A place where they store dead starships, Daniel,” she said primly.

  “I am aware of our destination, Joane,” he let her smile embrace him. “Why are you like this?”

  “We’re going to be surrounded by dozens, hundreds of old ships, from across who know how many cultures and eras,” she expanded. “One of them might give Kathra the tools she needs to finally go teach those Sept bastards some manners.”

  “And?”

  “And you don’t know a damned thing about ships, in spite of everything else,” she laughed. “So I get to be in charge of where we go and what we look at.”

  Daniel thought about it. Made sense. She’d been relegated to a secondary role for much of this trip, hobbled to a certain extent by the initial need to learn the language and culture he’d already had imprinted on his soul. And by the fact that he was the one who was Kathra’s Ambassador.

  But now she would become Kathra’s Engineer. He could see that making her so uncharacteristically bouncy today.

  It was a good thing that the two of them were alone in the rear of the vehicle, as the driver had never lowered the partition once they got in. Daniel didn’t even know if the driver was male or female. Up until now, they had mostly dealt with male Anndaing, but he’d been given to understand the flakiness of such an outcome, where Crence’s senior crew all happened to be male, and much more than half of Wyll’s staff.

  Female Anndaing looked remarkably like the males. Smaller and perhaps sleeker, but they didn’t have breasts or any outward sexual characteristics to differentiate them, like humans did. And he’d never dived deep enough into the research to tell.