by Aer-ki Jyr
“All here have learned your language. No translation will be required.”
“Thank you,” David said evenly. “Names please?”
One of the Preema pointed a wing and a quadruped taller than David walked forward.
“Deenra. A race that once spanned the entire length of the Sani Belt before the V’kit’no’sat found them. A few of their traders had contact with us and we gave safe harbor to no more than 2,000 of them. They now number 42 million.”
The Deenra walked forward as the Preema spoke, then quietly curled its scaly body and rolled forward like a ball until it came beside its host, unfurling again to stand looking down slightly at David.
“You look familiar,” the Archon said.
“They are physically similar to the Star Force member called Rammus, though we know of no former bloodline connection,” the Preema explained.
“We are honored to greet you, Archon,” the Deenra said with an oddly high pitched voice that sounded like it was being crushed by gravel. The Rammus, on the other hand, always sounded like they were coughing when they talked.
“Why did the V’kit’no’sat mark you for death?”
“We had several worlds they wanted. They told us to forfeit them. We refused.”
“What specifically did they want?”
“Trade routes. We controlled four important black hole links. Had we forfeited the systems they wanted, they would have inherited that control and greatly increased their ease of travel as they expanded their territory. We were an impediment to them. When we did more defensive damage than they expected, they decreed that we all must die. We would very much like to help you fight them.”
“Well you’re in,” David said, thumbing over his shoulder. “Next.”
The Preema waved the Deenra on, essentially handing over responsibility for him to Star Force, as they brought a smaller biped up next. It stood about even to David’s elbow and resembled a rabbit, except it had two spikes on its head instead of ears and its body was covered in yellow/tan/black scales rather than fur.
“Bwie. They came to us individually, in large numbers as they scattered across the galaxy. We collected those that we could quietly, and they now number 183 billion. They have unique skill burrowing underground and have assisted us with some mining operations.”
David leaned forward slightly, looking at the Bwie. “Show me your teeth.”
The alien drew its mouth open, showing a row of normal teeth along with two large fangs up front.
“Poison?” David asked.
“Yes,” the Bwie said smoothly.
“We’ll have to remove that. Some of our Protovic also had poison, but we couldn’t allow them to keep it.”
“I am less dangerous than you,” the Bwie quipped.
“True,” the Archon admitted. “But poison is a dishonorable weapon. We have the technology to genetically reengineer your race. We can remove the poison production while leaving your teeth otherwise the same. It will not hurt or damage you.”
“We do not wish to be altered.”
David sensed resistance, so he dove into the Bwie’s mind and discovered that it was not one of the races that wanted to join Star Force. Rather it was one the Preema wanted to offload on them.
“Does your poison work on each other?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“No. We are immune to it. It is to defend ourself against other races.”
“Well then. You can keep it so long as you stay within the colonies we build for you. If you want to intermix with the other races in Star Force, you will have to forfeit the poison.”
“We have no wish to intermix.”
“Problem solved then,” David said sarcastically, thumbing the little rabbit/snake behind him. “You’re in. Who’s the big one?”
“They are the Hanisva,” the Preema said as the Bwie hopped off to stand next to the Deenra and the giant avian stepped forward to stand with its wing over top the Preema and looked down on David from a head bigger than the Human by a factor of 4. “The V’kit’no’sat offered them membership, then when they refused they sought to destroy them.”
David got inside its mind quickly, then was disgusted by what he saw, for the Hanisva was drawing similarities between the Archon and its food.
“What are you feeding them?” he asked the Preema angrily.
“Something you would not approve of, but something the Preema do not eat. They could not eat our food.”
“So you let them kill others…you bastard.”
“We assume you can find a better food source for them, thus the transfer will be in everyone’s best interest.”
David pointed a stern finger at the Preema. “This stops now, everywhere in your territory. If you’re participating in the meat trade, we’ll end up invading you to stop it.”
“Which is one reason why we want to end it now by transferring the Hanisva to you. We want to rid ourselves of the meat trade.”
“You could have done that on your own long ago,” David sneered. “Why is it we are the only ones that care to clean up the galaxy?”
“They brought their food source with them. We simply didn’t deny it to them.”
“If they are your wards, then you are responsible for them and their misdeeds. Are there any living snacks on their ship?”
“We prefer our food live,” the Hanisva noted.
That did it for David. The avian was huge compared to him, but its mind was weak and he was inside it within a heartbeat, crippling the monster and dragging it to the ground without even touching it. David flew up into the air and landed on top of its chest as he forced it to turn its head to look at him, completely unable to control its own body.
“I will not allow this barbarism to continue. You will submit to our standards or I will kill you myself. We protect people. We don’t eat them, and any that do are our enemies,” he said, glancing briefly at the Preema before looking back at the huge avian. “Do you wish to be our enemy, or will you accept our rules?”
“You are no better than the V’kit’no’sat.”
“Take him back. I don’t want them,” David said, flying back down and releasing the Hanisva. “But you will find them an alternative food source immediately or our deal is off. We won’t be allied with sick bastards.”
The Hanisva rolled to its feet then turned and lashed out at David with its wing, trying to sweep him off his feet with the frame bone of it, but a Jumat blast leapt out and hit the wing, stopping it in its tracks and breaking it in the process. The huge Hanisva recoiled and screamed in pain while David held his position.
“Stop!” the Preema demanded, looking directly at the Hanisva and using his telepathy on it to convince it to just hold still and wait. “Just stop! We can negotiate an appropriate deal.”
“We don’t negotiate with other people’s lives,” David said with violent intent in his eyes.
“We’re not asking you to. We want to end the meat trade, which is why we want to transfer the Hanisva to you. They are unruly, but you have dealt with worse before, have you not?”
“I will not tolerate them killing and eating people during the transit to Star Force territory.”
“Then we will produce whatever food they require if you can design it for us. We will take their current food source from them as soon as the replacement can be acquired.”
“No, you will take it from them now. They can eat food they don’t like in order to survive until then.”
“They cannot eat Preema food.”
“Cannot or will not?”
“They are allergic to several ingredients we use.”
“Identify them and remove them. Then feed them what is left until we fashion something better.”
“Then you will accept them?”
“Only if you end this now, across your entire territory, with no delay. This is abhorrent.”
“We agree. I will send the messages immediately.”
“Their slave race of food has to be freed im
mediately. Who are they?”
“They are called Nioti, and they cannot speak.”
“I don’t give a damn. You will separate the Nioti from them immediately and turn the Nioti over to us separately. We will include them in the races we are taking from you.”
“We will not relinquish our food.” the Hanisva said firmly.
David help up his palm towards the Preema before it could speak, but his eyes were directly on the big, fur-covered avian.
“Yes…you…will,” David said, launching himself into the air directly towards the Hanisva’s chest where he punched it with both his fist and a Jumat blast, knocking it back a few meters, but he didn’t relent. He flew around, kicking the crap out of the thing for good measure as it tried to fight back but couldn’t move fast enough. Eventually, after cracking a few more bones, he rendered the Hanisva unconscious with it dropping to the deck in a heap as all the other races stood as far away from it as they could.
“We accept them,” David said, landing next to the Preema again. “Next?”
10
July 5, 4863
Meinto System (Zadjen Region)
Treneis
“We can maintain two,” the little triped Dati said, pointing its cute, stubby little fingers at the holographic map of the Rim with The Nexus’s territory only occupying a small portion in the approximate center. When he did the map zoomed in to the Perseus Galactic Arm where Dati territory was located, but ultimately he pointed somewhere spinward, or ‘west,’ of their worlds to a region that held several massive black holes. “Will that be sufficient?”
“Three are needed,” Davis argued, selecting the appropriate and very long black hole jumplanes. “I don’t want to stretch my infrastructure into the Vdir Region without your support. It’s too far off The Nexus grid for me to get reinforcements to within a year and I can’t devote a large defense fleet in light of the V’kit’no’sat war. I need you to secure all three of these routes so your fleets will be within support range if the Kamier or Taeru decide to try and cut our trade links.”
“That’s farther than we’re comfortable pushing,” the Dati said hesitantly. “Our fleets are not as large as yours.”
“I’m not asking you to secure the region, just the links.”
“If we agree to protect and manage these three spacelanes, will you allow us to colonize pieces of your systems on the chain? Without having to defend them?”
“Are you talking planets, moons, or little rocks?” Davis asked sarcastically.
“Little rocks will be sufficient so long as there is enough to put a foundation into,” the Dati said, catching his sarcasm and returning it.
“I can agree to that. We’ll provide the protection bubble over you if you can handle this far end of the chain.”
“It will stretch us, but I believe we have an agreement.”
“Good,” Davis said, leaning back in his chair as the Dati continued to stand on top of his desk amongst the holograms. “It will be a relief having a major power on the far end.”
“If The Nexus collapses any further, the chain will break in the middle,” the Dati warned.
“That is something I am intricately aware of, and it is going to happen. It’s just a matter of when. They’ve so horribly mismanaged their territory there is no way for them to stabilize it now. The Nexus is dead, it just hasn’t realized it yet.”
“Can you not help them? You’ve turned around far worse situations with the initial races they were forced to abandon.”
“They don’t want help. They won’t accept help that involves me telling them what to do. I’ve taken many problems off their hands, and that help they will take, but they will not change their ways. Most people would, given how many systems they are hemorrhaging, but the Sety do not care so long as their own worlds are intact.”
“I am forced to agree. Their shame is great and they do not want to admit that they are the center of the problem.”
“I am picking up many of The Nexus’s former races, but range is an issue. I expect to have almost all of them begging for membership at some point, and I need the trade chain established in order for me to save as many of them as I can. Already 39 significant races have been conquered or outright annihilated because we could not get out to them. I need the chain and you anchoring it at the far end so I can save what’s left of The Nexus when it finally breaks.”
“Why have you not sought to do the same with the Chamra? Or have you?”
“No. I have not. We currently have the Paladin deploying to the region between us and the Chamra. They’re going to do more than create a trade chain. That front is going to be locked down through massive colonization from which we can link to the Chamra, but the Chamra can’t help us there…not in the way we need, even if they offered. Which they have not.”
“And the others of The Nine?”
“Most are keeping to themselves and don’t seem to care about the collapse of The Nexus. The Jonstar are the exception and working with us to prepare for the V’kit’no’sat’s return.”
“How so?”
“They’re going to fight with us.”
“Why?” the Dati asked bluntly. “They are nowhere near the V’kit’no’sat border.”
“To paraphrase them, Star Force has replaced the Trinx in The Nine and become the heart of the alliance. To lose us would be the destruction of all and the release of the Hamoriti.”
“They still refer to them as Hamoriti?”
“Their ambassador does.”
The Dati considered for a moment, then expanded the map out large enough to cover the widely spread territories of all in The Nine.
“You are trying to establish trade routes to all while stabilizing the intermitting regions…how can you do that? There is far too much territory even if you were not at war. It is impossible. The Nexus failed making the same mistake with far less territory.”
“Go big or go home,” Davis said, knowing the Dati wouldn’t understand the cliché. “It needs done, so we’re doing it, with your help and the help of others. At least we’re trying.”
“How can you grasp that much? We are far older than you and have learned out limits. Are you mad or possessing a knowledge we lack?”
“We have a saying, and it’s called ‘crazy, but crazy like a fox.’ What we are doing may look impossible, but there is an underlying wisdom most people ignore.”
“Will you tell me what it is?”
“Trust. Our highest leaders trust one another, and we are all linked. Monarchs and Archons. All Archons are trained together in the same facility, so we are all from the same mold. Monarchs are selected more widely, but all must co-op with a senior Archon before reaching the level of Duke. I also carefully select each Monarch personally. We, the leadership, are all on the same page and trust one another. When we have that, the distance between our worlds is irrelevant. None of us are going to change without someone constantly monitoring us. We don’t operate our command structure on authority, we operate it on trust. So there are no limits to our expansion, so long as we don’t try to accelerate it too fast.”
“And your chain will provide the framework for you to expand from at a pace of your choosing?”
“Exactly.”
“You are that confident in your leadership? Even one could lead to revolt if not trustworthy.”
“I am confident. In fact, it’s what I’ve been betting the existence of Star Force on from its inception. If I can’t find a few thousand individuals worthy of full trust, we’re doomed anyway. Forced obedience always failed over the course of time. We rely on people doing the right thing even when no one is telling them to. I don’t pretend that most of our people are that trustworthy, but if the leaders are many of the others will reciprocate. Likewise, if we had bad leaders, they would reciprocate that as well.”
“How do you keep so many races from tearing each other apart? There are so many differences that even well-meaning individuals will come into conflict.”
“We have learned to keep to our own, otherwise we run into too many problems. I envy your success, but I do not envy your chances given the boldness of what you intend.”
“I would prefer a slower rate of growth…hell, what am I saying. I’d prefer a more stable rate of growth, but the collapse of The Nexus means the slower I act the more worlds are wrecked. I’ve learned how to be reckless without compromising what I’ve already built. If you had asked me a couple millennia ago, I probably would have agreed with you.”
“All of this depends on your survival. When the V’kit’no’sat truce ends…”
“We’ll be ready. I’m not compromising our survival for expansion.”
“How are you not? Resources should be spent on further fortifications rather than…”
Davis held up a hand. “On the surface that might be how it looks, but it’s not. We can’t stand toe to toe with the V’kit’no’sat in terms of industrial power. They have far too many worlds. If it comes down to attrition, they will win.”
“Unless you gain far more worlds,” the Dati said, suddenly catching on. “Can you hold out long enough for that?”
“We plan to.”
The Dati adjusted the hologram again, zooming in to their own borders. “We cannot fight the V’kit’no’sat from our position, nor do we wish to draw their ire, but if there are other ways we can be of indirect military assistance, state them.”
Davis leaned forward, telepathically adjusting the map. “Actually, there is…”