Set the Terms

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Set the Terms Page 8

by Mia R Kleve


  Zelko could only chuckle every time his training told him to attempt communication. It would be weeks before that was possible. In the meantime, he would only be giving away his position.

  Not too close to water, where they’re sure to look. Not too far from water, which I need to survive. Not too low in the valley, impossible to escape down there. Not too high on the ridgeline, too easy to spot. Not too overgrown, I’ll get bogged down in that vegetation.

  Eventually, he identified a pair of collapsed trees crossing over each other. The open area underneath them would be good enough for immediate concerns. In the long term, they would be an obvious hiding spot.

  In the hole-up site, re-assess injuries, take inventory, improve camouflage, determine your location, communicate if able. That would be minimum two weeks from now, probably closer to three.

  Once concealed, he took a deep breath and thought things through for the long term. Zelko knew he would have to evade for quite some time. He had to survive, avoid capture, and still be able to signal his position when it was time. He dug into his pack to take an inventory, but stopped and chuckled wryly. He pulled out the pieces of his cracked communicator and shook his head.

  With horror, he realized he’d forgotten the “sanitization” step, which meant the secure communications equipment on the B’tweny Wun remained intact. His enemy would have an abundance of time to access it and retrieve the codes. If help arrived, his failure could put them in grave danger.

  * * *

  “Entropy,” Dani’po muttered to herself as she stormed down the low-ceilinged corridor. “Corridor” was a stretch; it was more like a narrow access tunnel. The Veetanho ducked and proceeded as quickly as she could.

  The Peacemaker lieutenant’s assignment to Blue Flight was only a few weeks old. In fact, she’d barely filed her final report on her previous mission. After learning Blue Flight had never gone anywhere or done anything since its inception, though, she’d spent the remainder of that time lobbying to be re-assigned. She had taken just enough time to review the roster and information packets.

  Her final assessment of the entire alert process for the Blue Flight Recovery Team was that it was a total disaster. No Peacemaker had ever used the emergency beacon in recorded history, and, by the response, it showed. After they received notification from the guild master about a potential downed Peacemaker and received orders to execute the Blue Flight Recovery Protocol, she encountered only failure. The orders required a uniquely high number of Peacemakers for the mission. However, no one had updated the Blue Flight contact roster since its inception decades earlier. When she obtained the roster of available individuals, she found many of the prospective team members did not have accurate or useful contact information. What should have been a simple process of alerting the team turned into a slowly worsening exercise in futility.

  She quickly surrendered her attempts to make quiet, subtle notifications to the chosen Peacemakers and resorted to using the emergency recall channel all Peacemakers were required to have. Even so, she could not account for several of her twelve members. Since she was prepared beforehand, she left immediately available members to scramble around, collect their gear, and prepare for the mission. Meanwhile, she tracked down the remaining members she could locate.

  Their inability to respond to the call would normally be a serious offense resulting in their immediate suspension, but, considering the current circumstances, she couldn’t. Blue Flight needed them.

  She located and pushed the call button next to the tiny oval portal that Goka called doors. After an eternity of silence, the portal opened, revealing two identical, shiny black Goka crowded next to each other. For the life of her, she could not tell them apart.

  “Ch’rli. Shi’in. You two are being alerted.” She paused to register any sort of excited or apologetic response. There was none, they simply stared back at her with those void-black orbs. “Did you not receive the emergency callback?” As she said so, she noted the loud pinging sound echoing around the small room. The two skittered around in place nervously.

  “Apologies, Lieutenant…” started one.

  “…we were copulating,” the other finished.

  “You were, uh…how do you even…no, never mind. Grab your things and come with me at once, I’ve already wasted enough time tracking you down.”

  The left one chose that moment to pop his head into the air and said, “Oh hey, do you hear that sound?”

  The other responded, “Oh yeah, how long has that been on? That’s the Blue—”

  Dani’po shushed him and looked around suspiciously.

  “Do not finish that sentence. I can see you have company. We do not refer to that around civilians.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about them,” said the left one.

  “They’re unconscious,” said the right one.

  “Uh…” Rarely was she at a loss for words, but she was now. She swallowed, adjusted her goggles to better peer behind them at the immobile forms. Unbeknownst to the pair, she blinked twice.

  “Nothing sinister, we assure you,” chirped the right one.

  “This is perfectly normal. They will recover soon,” said the left. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. The two eyed each other awkwardly and then focused on the Veetanho. “Well, Lieutenant, are we going?”

  “Yes, of course.” Dani’po was insulted by the statement. She waited on them, of course, not the reverse. Frustrated, she blurted, “Don’t you need to grab your gear?”

  In a flash, they each produced a pair of knives. “We already have. So where are we going?”

  * * *

  The team, as many as they could collect before jumping, gathered in the briefing room. It was a lecture-style arc, with the floor descending toward the speaker in four tiers and modular seating to accommodate different races. Each seat had a restraining belt to hold the occupants down in the micro-gravity environment. Though they used magnetic boots while moving about the ship, the seats and restraints worked to organize the group and contain them in a neat orderly manner for the briefing.

  Dani’po stood at the front and surveyed the occupants. It did not take long to discern that most everyone was entirely clueless as to their purpose and to the importance of the situation. Rajeur, an opSha, distractedly tapped away at some mindless game on his slate. He would be her “natural” ears in the field, to augment the auditory hardware. Hezel, the XenSha, exhibited the telltale thousand-yard stare of one lost in her pinplants. She would be the natural “eyes” of the group, considering her ability to see in an unusually wide range of spectrums. Protect those two, she noted.

  An Avaka named Bromli sat front row center. She knew Avaka were the sketchiest of the smaller creatures. The file noted it had previous covert operations training. This likely meant either piracy or thievery. What had the Selector been thinking? Uncultivated creatures…use it as fodder on point or the flanks.

  Ch’rli and Shi’in were hunkered down in the front right corner, skittering and chattering away to each other dejectedly. From the body language she could make out, it seemed they were regaling each other with tales of their recent conquests. Such a strange, disgusting pair. But damn near indestructible to less intelligent races. They have their uses.

  Olben, a recently graduated Enforcer, stood in the far back, an unmoving wall of giant purple fur. She could count on him. Same with Gormanlu, the K’kng who stood next to the Oogar. The pair looked like they would be well-suited for security at a rowdy merc pit. Gormanlu, however, was the most refined looking of the entire group with neatly trimmed silver hair and a fine black suit framing his enormous muscular frame. The pair also had the distinction of being the only ones, apart from her, of course, to launch with their entire programmed inventory. Enforcers were always prepared. Both were powerful, intelligent, well-trained, and well-equipped. The Oogar and the K’kng would be the core of her ground team. She dismissed thoughts that maybe they should lead it.

  Ka’Ri, a Pushtal and the mos
t recently graduated Peacemaker, sat in the front row nervously sharpening her claws. They actually sharpen their claws? I thought that was an expression. In any event, I can forge a clean slate into a useful tool.

  Rubri and Indri, the two Maki pilots, were relaxed and talked quietly to each other off to the left side of the middle row. The Krin, named Wix, calmly waited on the far-right end on the same row, with a serious and professional demeanor. There’s a pilot you call on when things get bad.

  The HecSha was an entirely different matter. Its flat, wide lizard head glanced curiously, almost suspiciously, around the room. She was still unclear how the HecSha wound up on the ship. He certainly was not on the roster and was definitely not a Peacemaker. Disturbingly, his presence meant he was now privy to the existence and capabilities of Blue Flight. That one is certainly not to be trusted. I need to keep a sharp eye on him.

  The brown and gray-feathered Buma who ran the ship pushed his way through the lower entry portal and floated to a podium before the crowd. He maneuvered his boots to the floor and connected them.

  Finally, my introduction. Time to take charge and set the standards for the operation.

  The Buma rolled his shoulders back and grabbed the podium, allowing him to assume a tall, noble posture.

  These things are always so diplomatic and formal. It’s annoying.

  “Welcome all. I am Lieutenant Su Doens, your Blue Flight Leader.” He turned his head, and his giant eyes regarded Dani’po. “Lieutenant Dani’po, can you confirm this is all your ground team that made it aboard?”

  If the Veetanho had not been in such perfect control of her emotions, she might have blanched. There were two significant problems with the question. For one thing, his phrasing implied failure on her part to better locate and organize her team. For another, his tone was a little too dignified, perhaps a bit superior. Does he think he’s assuming leadership of the operation? “Yes,” she said very curtly.

  He nodded, ignored her obvious disdain, and addressed the crowd. In his eyes she could see both cluelessness and an attempt to exude confidence.

  “Before I begin, I would like to introduce our newest member, Lerux.” He motioned to the HecSha pilot, who nodded slightly. “In our race to launch, I noticed we were short one pilot, located him, and deputized him to fill the gap. I would ask everyone to welcome him and offer as much assistance as you would desire for yourself were you to find yourself in his position.”

  Seriously? You found a random pilot off the station for a mission of this importance?

  “Members of Blue Flight, welcome aboard the Stryx Wunfyf.” He paused as if he had just made some grand announcement. “Decades ago, the need was recognized for a rapid response unit within the Peacemakers for a variety of eventualities, not the least of which was the unlikely event that a Peacemaker came into danger. This was the genesis of Blue Flight, of which you are now a part. As all of you are, at least as of right now, aware, such an event has occurred. Peacemaker Zelko, who was on a mission investigating reports of biological weapons development, sent out a distress signal.” There were murmurs throughout the auditorium, which the fine feathered figure did nothing to disperse. Ignoring the low rumble, he continued.

  “This signal is a last-ditch means of communication. Under usual circumstances a Peacemaker would have time to send a report, whether it included a threat, a warning, or evidence of wrongdoing.” The various species used their individual forms of body language to convey agreement, except for the HecSha. “The type of signal we received is only used when there is no time send a report, when the danger is so immediate that the only available action is to launch the distress signal. This is the way to guarantee Blue Flight is activated when time is of the essence. In these circumstances, we have unrestricted access to the Cartography Guild’s best kept secret: the ability to transit hyperspace in a mere 120 hours.” There were a few confused gasps at this statement.

  Dani’po clearly heard one Goka ask the other, “Really? We can do that?”

  The other, also caught off guard, jerked his head over to reply, “Um, sure, yeah, of course we can. Everyone knows that. Science and stuff.”

  Honestly, does anyone ever read their information packets? I thought all but one of these individuals was a Peacemaker.

  Dani’po glanced at the HecSha, hoping to catch it in an expression of astonishment. Unfortunately, the thing was unmoved and expressionless. Does it even understand the Buma is speaking?

  Su Doens continued, “Unfortunately, that is all we know. We do not know whether this was an act of aggression, a severe equipment failure, an environmental disaster, or something which we could not even guess at. We must assume the worst, of course.” Dani’po allowed a slight sigh to escape her lips in impatience. Again, some of the crowd indicated agreement.

  “That is only the first item in the list of what we do not know. Even if we were to guess at the nature of the Peacemaker’s distress, it would not help us determine where the Peacemaker is now. By the time we arrive, fifteen days will have passed from the time the call went out. Peacemaker Zelko may have been evading, fleeing a natural disaster, or trekking across terrain to reach a population center for that entire period.

  “We do not know what his status will be. We will assume he is badly injured, regardless of the reason, and be prepared to provide field care to transport him to this ship, where we have excellent medical facilities.

  “Even if we determine that Peacemaker Zelko is deceased—” there was some low conversation at this statement, “—we will investigate to locate the remains and determine the cause, both of the distress signal and of his demise.”

  The Oogar rapped a knuckle on a nearby table, and Su Doens nodded to him.

  “Can I ask why there are so many of us?” Olben asked. “Enforcers always work alone, and Peacemakers never deploy as more than a pair.”

  “As I said,” Su Doens replied, “this has never happened in recorded history. Our numbers are to show how seriously we are taking the situation. We must prevent word from getting out that we let one of our own fall, if that is, indeed, what happened. Further, we must deter others from thinking they can obstruct Peacemakers, much less openly attack them. Finally, we are completely blind. It will take quite a bit to make up our complete lack of intelligence in the system and of the situation.”

  The Buma went on like this for quite some time, listing things they did not know. Eventually, he finished, and he motioned for Dani’po to brief her team. First, however, he directed Gormanlu and the Avaka, to follow him for a separate tasking.

  “Am I to understand that you are reducing my team?” she asked as the K’kng and Avaka floated out.

  The tall avian gestured to the ground team. “Please remain here for a moment.” He motioned for Dani’po to follow the other two. He released his boots and propelled himself out the door. Seething, she did the same.

  In a separate, smaller conference room, Su Doens collected the trio.

  “My apologies, Lieutenant Dani’po, I should have discussed this with you first.” Not if you’ve assumed authority over the whole operation, as you obviously have. This is what happens when two lieutenants are assigned with no clear chain of command.

  “I would have preferred it, Lieutenant Su Doens. What is your task for these two?” Safe behind her goggles and her Veetanho stone-faced expression, she regarded the two more closely than before. I would have liked to have the K’kng with me. The Avaka, not so much.

  “I am sending them to the closest major settlement, where Peacemaker Zelko’s investigation took place. As you are aware, it is a Zuul city. Gormanlu has a particular aptitude for diplomacy. I hope to utilize this to ensure they are cognizant of our presence. Also, to encourage them to provide us with assistance and whatever information they have.” A simple communications transmission cannot accomplish this?

  “I had imagined you would take that role,” she replied, and turned to face the Avaka. The Buma followed suit.

  “Na
turally, Gormanlu’s job could have been accomplished with a simple transmission. But his real role will be twofold. One, to provide physical presence to enforce our wishes. They will be much less likely to interfere with our communications or perform any overt aggression while he is among them. Two, he will distract from the real mission, which will be Bromli’s clandestine attempt to accomplish Peacemaker Zelko’s investigation.” He took a theatrical pause, as if waiting for the words to sink in. “Peacemaker Zelko found something there. In the event we cannot recover him, we must recover the information.”

  “It will mean the difference between one search team and two search teams, Lieutenant,” Dani’po stated behind an emotionless wall.

  “Understood, Lieutenant Dani’po. I believe it is well worth the cost. To compensate, I will give you tactical control of the shuttles for the search. You will also find Peacemaker Hezel has an impressive array of search drones.” Lieutenant Su Doens nodded as if the matter was settled.

  Don’t do me any favors, Lieutenant.

  * * *

  The Buma seemed to be doing everything it could to guarantee failure. The entire time in hyperspace, it emphasized the importance of haste in the operation. Now, all of the sudden, it preached caution and slow, ponderous prudence. Every hour Zelko and Zrr’tk weren’t located was an hour in which they could be captured, killed, or just simply dead from dehydration, malnourishment, etc. Then, not only would their message never get out, but the nature of their situation would never be known.

  For the sake of cohesion, Dani’po had graciously deferred leadership of the overall operation to Su Doens since he had held the rank of lieutenant longer. She also presumed he’d been with Blue Flight for some time and, thus, any shortcomings were his responsibility. She decided that, rather than jump into a major power struggle, it was best to let him take the lead and make whatever mistakes he was certain to make. When the time was right, she could simply take command and resolve any adversity he could not overcome.

 

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