Set the Terms

by Mia R Kleve

  Captain Lorm looked at Rains skeptically. “And that’s a reason for a war?”

  Rains nodded. “Apparently to the Xiq’tal it is, though I think they’re enjoying it.”

  Lorm’s tail lashed. “What are you going to do?”

  “Go to Durst and talk to a ConAg administrator named Gathis to find out why they aren’t using recycling technology for their waste instead of dumping it into the river. Amos has an idea we can placate the Xiq’tal by getting them something meaner to hunt. I think it’s a longshot, but I’ve agreed to let him run down that angle. If they come up with something I’ll need the Turunmaa to make a pickup.”

  Lorm shook her head. “The Turunmaa is not a transport for livestock, Peacemaker.”

  Rains didn’t give an inch. “If it accomplishes the mission, Captain, this ship will be whatever I need it to be.”

  Lorm looked at him for a moment. “You misunderstand, Peacemaker. The Turunmaa lacks the equipment necessary to do what you ask.”

  Rains thought about that. “The Xiq’tal have been shipping live echin. I assume that means they have cargo containers that are suitable for the purpose. Would that work?”

  Lorm nodded. “We will need the specifications, but it should. I still protest. It would leave you here with no support.”

  “I’ll keep a few of Amos’s men. One more thing. I could use an engineer to take a look at the plant. Do you have someone who can give me a qualified opinion?”

  “I’ll ask the chief. If anyone is qualified, it would be him.”

  “We have a plan then,” said Rains. “Let’s hope Amos comes up with something we can use. I’ll comm ConAg, and the Flatar and Tortantulas, and let them know we’ll be at the Durst port tomorrow.”

  Administrator Gathis was unavailable but would be notified. Rikki had answered with a curt, “Good. We’ll see you there,” and cut the connection. Rains went to see how Amos was doing. To his surprise, there was a Xiq’tal squatting to one side of the kitchen. Amos looked up from sorting through an enormous basket filled with fish and other sea creatures.

  “Ah! Jack-son! Come over an’ meet Se-bast-ion! Louie talk to him on patrol an invite him up! He bring us a basket of local treasure dat gonna be so good, I gar-on-tee!”

  The Xiq’tal lowered itself in what came off as a bow. “Well met, Peacemaker Rains.”

  Rains responded in kind, “Well met, uh…”

  “Sebastian is acceptable. Humans lack the mouth parts to pronounce my name. Louie explained that his daughter has a fondness for a media facsimile with a Xiq’tal character. Amos has been teaching me about ‘gumbo’ and ‘Cajun sauce.’”

  “What did you think?” asked Rains.

  “I think the gumbo has acceptable flavor but lacks texture. None of the creatures in it are still alive, which was disappointing, and Amos takes the shells out. The Cajun sauce was interesting. Amos tells me it is ‘hot,’ but I don’t understand what that means. It does seem to increase circulation.”

  Amos took a fish out of the basket and Rains could see it was still alive.

  The basket must be full of water. Thought Rains.

  “Here, Se-bast-ion, you show ‘em!”

  Sebastian took the fish from Amos and rubbed it in a bowl of Amos’s sauce then ate it in a single bite. Rains watched the shell of the Xiq’tal begin to slowly redden until it had turned from its usual blue to a deeper purplish hue.

  Sebastian lined up his eyestalks on the two men. “Amos said you would be talking to the Tortantula and Flatar. Does that mean we can fight again? It’s the most fun we’ve had since the echin began to sicken.”

  “We are hoping to give you a different alternative, Sebastian. I’ll contact CrRkkt afterwards.”

  “I see,” said Sebastian, obviously disappointed. “I should go back now. Maybe I will see you again. What was the phrase? So long?”

  “So long, Sebastian, and thanks for all the fish!”

  * * *

  The next morning arrived in a gray haze of cloud and rain. Fog reached for the beach in streamers, rolling in with and obscuring the breakers that crashed onto the beach and cleared the last of the gore left from the battle, leaving clean sand behind. The Cajuns had raised shelters over the base area and secured them against the weather.

  Rains stared out to sea, watching the flashes of lightning and listening for the thunder that added a sharp counterpoint to the breaking waves. He stood for a moment feeling the rain on his face.

  He wiped the rain away from his face with his hands and ran them over his short black hair. I’d better grab a shave.

  With a last look, Rains took a deep breath, smelling the clean air and the faint odor of whatever passed for seaweed on Avbo being churned up by the waves, then he turned and went into the ship.

  Three of the Cajuns would stay at the base to keep watch. Three plus Louie would go to Durst with Rains, and the last three plus Amos would go with Captain Lorm and the Turunmaa.

  Amos caught up to Rains with a slate in hand. “Jack-son! I think we find you a mean-fish for de Xiq’tal!” He showed Rains the slate.

  “It’s ugly enough, I’ll give you that,” said Rains looking at the creature. “A nopf’h? How’d you find this?”

  Amos nodded. “Din’ I gar-on-tee? Ri-shard, his sister is with a small colony dat sea mine. Dey call it a nope-fish because it so mean. Dere crew see ‘em comin’ and says nope, nope, nope! But here the best part! Ri-shard, he remembers dis nopf’h because his sister tell him dey have a leak in one of dey reclamation units and the nopf’h, dey swarm it cause dey like the taste!”

  Rains handed the slate back to Amos. “It’s worth the try. I’ll get in touch with CrRkkt about using some of their shipping equipment and fill in Captain Lorm. You can coordinate with her.”

  Amos left to get his crews ready while Rains headed for the bridge. Soon, the Turunmaa lifted for the short trip to Durst.

  * * *

  The Turunmaa settled onto the tarmac at the Durst starport, and Rains walked down the ramp with the Cajuns following him in their CASPers. Waiting for them was a squad of Tortantulas and a silver-furred Veetanho. The lead Tortantula was a massive creature with black fur and a startling white stripe along its back and had a saddle that carried not one, but two Flatar.

  The Flatar in the front seat jumped out of the saddle and walked up to Rains, extending a paw.

  “Peacemaker Rains, I’m Rikki. With me is Colonel Valk of the Mercenary Guild. Welcome to Durst.” Rains was surprised but shook the offered paw.

  “Well met. Allow me to introduce Chief Achatina of the Turunmaa, Louis LeBlanc of the Rajin Cajuns, and his troopers Guidry, Fontenot, and Breaux.”

  The Bakulu engineer made a gesture with several tentacles while his three eyestalks looked about. “Greetings Colonel, Commander,” he said.

  “Greetings,” replied Rikki. “We’ll get to know each other later over chow. You didn’t need the tin cans.”

  Louie responded over his speakers. “You don’t need fur either, but you’d look pretty funny without it.”

  Rikki pointed at Louie’s CASPer. “I like him. And it’s true enough, Humans do look funny without the hardware.”

  Rikki gestured behind her. “The FIB is Tikki. Call the Tort, Tavvi.”

  “FIB?” asked Rains.

  Rikki smiled. “Flatar-in-Back. Think of him as a tail gunner.” Tikki stood on the saddle and turned to wiggle his short tail in their direction, then mimed shooting with a gun in each paw. An odd noise came from Tavvi’s translator. The Tortantula vibrated slightly as it laughed.

  Valk stepped forward. “A word, Peacemaker Rains.” Rains started to reply, but the Veetanho cut him off. “I wanted to explain the Mercenary Guild’s position in case it wasn’t obvious. Although the Mercenary Guild is the petitioner…” Valk paused as if the word petitioner was painful to say, then continued, “Our sole interest here is the cessation of hostilities between the Flatar-Tortantula and the Xiq’tal. I’m here as an observer. Nothing
more.”

  That’s interesting, thought Rains. “Colonel Valk, it’s still unclear why the Mercenary Guild is involved at all.”

  Valk replied, “Peacemaker, the Mercenary Guild has a contract with ConAg to use larder planets for R&R and training purposes. In this case, two mercenary races have separate contracts for provisioning, and we brokered the contract for security for Durst, which is held by the Tortantula.”

  “I see. Where can I reach you if I need additional information?” asked Rains.

  “The Mercenary Guild maintains an office here. Commander Rikki can show you, if need be. As to additional information, I assume if your superiors thought you needed it then it would have been provided.” Valk stalked off into the rain.

  Rikki watched Valk go. “Always a REMF around to bring joy to the grunts. This way. I’ll show you where to park the hardware. We set aside barracks with a garage so your machines don’t get lonely.”

  Rikki climbed into her saddle, dismissed her squad and led them toward one of the buildings at the edge of the landing field.

  “I’m surprised Administrator Gathis wasn’t on hand to greet us,” said Rains.

  Rikki snorted. “You shouldn’t be. Gathis opposed Peacemaker involvement from the beginning. ConAg is a Veetanho company, and she and Valk don’t get along. She thinks you’re here to be Valk’s enforcer. I wouldn’t expect any help from that direction if I were you.”

  “Great.”

  “Here we are.” Rikki led them through a large garage door. The building had plenty of room for the CASPers. She pointed to a door. “Barracks through there, sleeping quarters on the right, common room and an office for you, on the left. C Company shares this building; step over or pound on the wall if you need anything. Chow is in an hour. Why don’t you get settled in?”

  * * *

  An hour later, Rikki collected them and took them to the mess hall. The hall had the traditional serving line, but instead of benches, the place was filled with café tables high enough for the Tortantula to use and the Flatar sat on high stools. Rikki pointed at a group of tables that had been pushed together. Several teams were already eating, including Tikki and Tavvi. There were Human-sized stools down one side of the tables and a sort of ramp set up for Chief Achatina.

  Rikki turned to the chief. “We have a pretty good selection of vegetable dishes if that suits you. It’s all fresh.”

  The Bakulu nodded his eyestalks. “That will be fine, Commander. Thank you. I’ve been looking forward to trying the local produce.”

  Rikki nodded at Rains and the Cajuns. “Same goes for you, and if you like protein you can try the gresh. Make sure you tell them you want it cooked. The Tortantula eat it raw. I’m told it doesn’t have much flavor of its own cooked. Gresh is usually dehydrated and powdered to use as a protein supplement. We used to get shipments of seafood, but given the current issues the Xiq’tal stopped sending it.”

  “What’s a gresh?” asked Louie.

  Rikki replied, “A gresh is a six-meter-long slug. They can eat just about any vegetable matter and secrete a caustic slime. We process them for the meat and the slime is a high-quality lubricant after the caustic elements are neutralized.”

  Louie and the Cajuns stood. “I never eat slug before.” Louie caught Rains’ eye and glanced in Chief Achatina’s direction.

  To Rains surprise, the Bakulu caught the exchange. “Have no concern Trooper LeBlanc. I think I’ll get my own meal, as well.”

  “Peacemaker, I was hoping we could ask your men for a demonstration of their machines. Many of the troops here have never worked with Humans, and they are curious about their capabilities,” said Rikki.

  “I’m sure we can work something out. I’m curious about something, too. I’ve never seen a Tortantula with two Flatar before,” said Rains.

  Rikki leaned over the table. “You probably won’t see it again either. Nobody paints my toe claws like Tikki.”

  Rains stared blankly, at a complete loss for words as all the Flatar and Tortantula within earshot burst into laughter.

  Rikki held up a paw. “Sorry Peacemaker, I couldn’t resist. The reason you’ve never seen it before is that Tikki and I are twins. Flatar twins are very, very rare. Once the pair bonding with Tavvi took place well, there we were. It just worked itself out. A bond with one is a bond with both.”

  “Rikki, why do the Flatar and Tortantula keep fighting?”

  “We have a contract. We always thought security for Durst was a freebie, but when the Xiq’tal attacked the plant we had to fight them off. It was fun.”

  “The Xiq’tal attacked the processing plant?”

  “They didn’t tell you?”

  “Must have slipped their minds. Do you know why they attacked the plant?”

  “It was after administrator Gathis started dumping waste into the river.”

  “Started—you mean, the plant wasn’t designed to do that?”

  “Of course not. It’s a recycler like all the ones ConAg uses. Something about a contract dispute with the Xiq’tal.”

  In Rains’ mind, every dressing down he’d received from his DIs about not being fully prepared went into instant replay. Contracts. Everything that has happened here is about the contracts! he thought.

  “Rikki, can we delay my meeting with Administrator Gathis? I have something I need to do first.”

  “Sure, she isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Great. In the meantime, could someone take Chief Achatina to the waste plant?”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  Rains called over Louie and the chief. “Chief, change of plans. I’d like you to go to the plant as soon as you finish your meal. Take…” Rains looked at Louie. “Guidry and Fontenot. I expect you’ll find the recyclers have been turned off. If that’s the case, restore them if you can, on my authority. In the meantime, I have some homework to do.”

  “I’m ready now,” said the chief and headed off with the guide Rikki provided.

  Rains headed back to their quarters, grabbed a chair, and pulled up his brief on his slate. Sure enough, one of the appendices was Contracts and included the contracts for the Mercenary Guild, Xiq’tal, Tortantula, and ConAg.

  Rains opened the first contract and began to read.

  * * *

  Two hours later, with his head crammed full of terms and clauses and his eyes blurry from reading, Rains finally felt like he had a handle on the situation on Avbo. The entire thing was a cluster, and it had everything to do with the price of fish. Rains silently thanked Professor Flint’s course on contracts that he understood most of what he read.

  Chief Achatina had commed in that he had been able to restart the recyclers. There was nothing wrong with them, they had simply been turned off. There had been a token protest by the plant manager, but the presence of the Cajuns had quickly put an end to it along with a reminder that the Humans would be back if the recyclers were deactivated again.

  Rains contacted CrRkkt to let him know that issue had been resolved.

  Now for the fun part, he thought.

  “Louie, I’d like you to pay a visit to Administrator Gathis and Colonel Valk. Tell them I’d like them to join me here in two hours, and let them know that if they don’t show you’ll be back to personally escort them. Also, if you would ask Rikki, Tikki, and Tavvi to join us, I’d appreciate it.”

  Louie grinned. “Now we talkin’!”

  Two hours later both Veetanho arrived to join Rains. The Flatar and Tortantula had arrived ten minutes earlier.

  “Thank you all for joining me. Administrator Gathis, good to finally meet you. If you will both take a seat—”

  Gathis began angrily, “What’s this I hear about you sending troops to the plant? I’ll have your badge!”

  Valk also jumped in, “Peacemaker Rains, I already explained that the Mercenary Guild—”

  Rains interrupted. “Is trying to take over administration of Avbo from ConAg.”

  Valk stopped. “Wait, no! That isn’t what we�
��”

  Rains interrupted again. “Of course you are. Your contract states that in the case of an irreconcilable dispute between contracted parties, the administrative contract can be revoked. Administration then reverts to the original charter holder for Avbo. In this case, the Mercenary Guild. ConAg has a perpetual contract for administration unless revoked.”

  Valk crossed her arms. “We had nothing to do with creating the problems on Avbo.”

  “I agree,” said Rains. “The conflict here was about to bleed the guild of some of its best shock troops with no gain. Regaining administrative control was a bonus opportunity.”

  Valk replied, “So you will be revoking the civilian administrative contract?”

  Rains nodded. “More or less.”

  Gathis started. “What? You can’t do that. ConAg operated in good faith!”

  “By unnecessarily dumping industrial waste into the environment,” Rains replied.

  “We can do what we want with it,” Gathis said.

  “No, you can’t,” said Rains. “Your contract specifies ConAg ‘must maintain appropriate conditions for agriculture and husbandry.’ What you did violates that clause. The waste not only affects the echin but also the other marine life and the Xiq’tal themselves.”

  “I still don’t understand why she did that,” said Rikki.

  “Administrator Gathis had a contractual dispute with the Xiq’tal. The ConAg contract states that the company, and the administrator, receive a percentage of the profits from agricultural or commercial harvests on Avbo. The most profitable species on the planet is the echin, but they are not a commercial harvest. The Xiq’tal hunt them individually and that makes them a sport animal and not subject to the contract.”

  “Are the echin worth that much?” asked Rikki.

  “Millions,” replied Rains. He turned to Gathis. “Administrator Gathis, I find Consolidated Agricultural in violation of its contract due to failure to fulfill the terms for maintaining appropriate conditions for agriculture and husbandry and will impose additional penalties after a detailed review. You are suspended pending your removal from Avbo by ConAg. You will deliver or otherwise provide access to all materials pertinent to the administration of Avbo and Durst to this office within twenty-four hours.”