“Now that would be just about the worst thing we could do,” replied Garth Pennington. “The very essence of Civilium law is to make sure that the use of force between member empires, except in some very specific circumstances, is rendered unprofitable. And stealing a planet from a competitor is not one of those special circumstances.”
“Stealing! But…” Kirrah clamped her mouth firmly shut as the Admiral raised her hand.
“Dr. Pennington is simply trying to show us what sort of claim the Kruss could make if I tried unprovoked force against them on the planet. Tell me, Doctor, do you think we have any basis for collateral charges? They attacked our ship, they used proscribed weapons against civs… anything?”
“We can and should prosecute the attack on the Arvida-Yee, and thanks to this eyewitness and the one we will interview next, we pretty much have them cold on that score. But it will only get us reparations, not a planet. As to the smartshot attacks, ironically we have no claim unless we were already awarded a protectorate here. Any such claim must arise from the indigenes whom they attacked. Indeed the indigenes are in a far better position to protest the Kruss presence than we, if they could only speak with a single voice for the planet. But if the O’dai speak in favor of the Kruss, it becomes the kind of he-said, she-said argument that could well see the planet, and this entire system, actually partitioned.”
“Which would leave the Kruss with a base here. If there’s a tie in court, we lose.” Lucinda sat back, tapping a stylus into her left palm. “What we are lacking, Garth, is adequate intel on the extent of the Kruss presence. I’m going to be very upset if we lose half the planet to a handful of Kruss clerks in a dinky little contact mission. We need some close-in observations. Hmmm… what is it, Lieutenant? You look ready to burst!”
“Sorry, ma’am. Just that, well, I also have a problem, in my role as Talamae Warmaster, and I was wondering whether our goals might, um, coincide.” The Admiral’s gold-flecked brown eyes locked onto Kirrah’s like twin Spit-5 seeker heads. Kirrah swallowed unobtrusively, thinking ‘and you have to meet Lord Tsano, ma’am’, and continued:
“Speaking with the Admiral’s permission as Talamae Warmaster and not Regnum officer, I happen to have about eight thousand prisoners of war requiring transport back into O’dai territory, ma’am. Some of them are wounded, and it would seem only humane to send the twenty or so worst cases home by the fastest means possible…”
Lucinda stepped smoothly into the open end of Kirrah’s sentence: “…Which of course would be one of my Assault Shuttles, Lieutenant Ro…- belay that, ‘Kirrah Warmaster’. Said LAS to be loaned by the generous Regnum Admiral to the allied indigenes.”
“Yes ma’am, that would be most generous. Since it’s only a twenty-minute passenger run, we would of course have no reason to enter the aft compartment. It would be even more generous if the Regnum Admiral saw fit to provide a Marine escort, since we would be landing in what is, for the moment, hostile territory. And of course my guards and healers would need combat suits for protection.” The Admiral’s eyes narrowed:
“Of course. And by the same token they would not need Regnum weapons. My Marines would certainly be able to handle any combat situation that arose, and then only in self defense. Ms. Roehl, you are clever and show initiative, which is generally a good thing, but I am not at this time authorizing an attack against Talamae’s enemies using Regnum hardware, are we clear?”
“Absolutely, ma’am. The mission objective is to return the O’dai wounded. Of course, finding a suitable landing site may require a number of low passes over their major cities. Well within range, say, of ground-penetrating radar and low-res NMR scan, in case such equipment happened to be stored in the aft compartment. And accidentally left active. Then we land, transfer the prisoners to the first competent government authority we can find, and return. Any combat would be initiated by the O’dai, ma’am, and resisted with minimum force.”
“I believe, as the diplomats say, an accommodation has been reached, ‘Warmaster’. What do you think, Garth?”
“I think it might just get you that close intel, Admiral. I further think the Regnum can be glad you two swindlers are on its side. And speaking as your attorney, let me suggest in the strongest possible terms that every ‘i’ be well and truly dotted and every ‘t’ crossed. Starting with an alliance treaty between us and the Talamae, which, given the circumstances, I regret to say should take precedence over trade negotiations at our first meeting later today.”
“Speaking as the Talamae Warmaster, Dr. Pennington, and with a little background on Regnum Navy requirements and general knowledge of Regnum treaties, I believe we shall reach for a swift consensus and not spend our entire meeting debating minutiae. Oh! What about my Kruss prisoner-of-war? I already asked Marc…um, Lieutenant Warden, to see about having it transferred to the Argosy.”
“There, at least, I think the law smiles on us, Ms. Roehl. That individual is clearly a prisoner of the Talamae-O’dai war, not part of any Regnum-Kruss hostilities. At the request of our soon-to-be allies, he is being transported by the Regnum Navy to the Civilium Scrutineer on Trailway, where he is to be charged with conspiracy to use prohibited weapons against indigenes. I’m a bit rusty with precedent law, but I think we might actually be able to make a case for Contempt of Sapience, against the Kruss Empire itself.” Kirrah’s eyebrows rose at that, and she felt her breathing return another notch toward normal at the man’s words.
“What I find remarkable among all this remarkable testimony,” commented the Admiral, “is that Ms. Roehl was able to capture and hold one of those beasts at all, with the available technology. I’ve seen vids of the holding cell she built, the thick stone walls and its interlocking double iron doors. Most ingenious. And I’m sure we all saw Willison’s eyes light up at the news the Kruss suffer ‘metabolic crash’ when physically overstressed. I think that little aspect of their high-speed physiology has escaped NavInt’s notice all this time.
“That will be all, Lieutenant, gentlemen. This meeting is adjourned. Ah, speaking of physiology, Lieutenant Roehl, the Argosy’s CMO is in room two-oh-two upstairs, something about a full workup, a routine precaution following exposure to this planet’s pathogens and food for five months.” Oh, Murphy’s feces, thought Kirrah. I forgot about the med exams… “And don’t look to me for mercy, Lieutenant, I survived my own annual exam the week before we arrived. You look in perfect health to me, but doctors have their own ways. See you this afternoon, dismissed.”
Another forty minutes later Kirrah emerged back into the lobby, feeling overall as though her brains had indeed been scooped out, pureed, strained and poured (mostly) back into her cranium. Irshe rose from where he had been sitting at a workstation, looking at a 3V astronomy program the duty officer had apparently provided.
“Are you well, Kirrah-aska?”
“Well? Yes, also tired. Their questioning was very thorough. I remembered things I didn’t even know I knew. Their medical examination was equally thorough, brrr! You’d think with all the Regnum’s technology their healers could make their probes warm! Is all well?”
“Yes, Warmaster, all is in order.” Kirrah appreciated anew how deftly and surely her companion switched between his roles. He scrolled down a mental checklist:
“The O’dai are busy repairing their camp. We have sent priests, and the Reg’num has sent healers to assist their wounded. Doi’tam-sana’tachk is still on duty and says he will stay that way until ordered otherwise or the O’dai leave. Peetha is very excited to see the Regnum weapons. I have never seen her so eager - it is reliably reported that she actually moved her eyes twice during drill! Our displaced citizens are assembling a tent city to the northeast along the Upper Geera until the plague-of-screams seeds are swept up. It will rain tonight. Preparations are in place for our meeting this afternoon. Your page Janna’tha is drowning in messages and papers, and demands a wristcomp. The lake is down almost a hab’la from its peak, Captain Og’drai says it will fall a
little more by evening. Do you want some lunch? I brought a travel ration in case we were short of time, but I think we could return to the School or the Palace, as you wish.”
“Is it common practice for a scout making his report, to save the best news for last? I would rather at this moment share a travel ration with my friend than eat the best Lord Tsano’s cook has to offer. Let us go outside and eat in the shade.” As they moved toward the door. Irshe replied, absolutely deadpan:
“It is only the most worthy and experienced scouts who know the secrets of pleasing their Warmaster, Warmaster.” Kirrah snorted in a most unladylike fashion, and felt a slight blush shade her cheeks.
In a few moments they were joined by Lieutenant Warden who was just finishing some business inside the new Consulate building, and a striking woman with short ash-blonde hair, blue-gray eyes, delicate features in a narrow face and golden-brown skin, whom he introduced as Marine Corporal Adrianne Gilman. They too were carrying lunch, Marine field rations, Kirrah noticed with a small shudder, and they sat companionably on the not-grass beside the other pair.
“Irshe,” said Kirrah, “this woman is the person who located the Kruss thrower. Adrianne, you have no idea how much grief that thing caused. I hope the Kruss are fined a whole planet just for thinking of using it against defenseless sapients.”
“Glad to be of service, ma’am.”
“Spare me the ‘ma’am’, please. It’s just ‘Kirrah’, unless it’s a formal scenario.”
“Yes, ma’… I mean, Kirrah. Say, is it true that you defeated that whole Oh-die force yourself with just a standard J-1P beamer? There are still a good eight thousand men over there, plus casualties! How did you do it?” Before Kirrah could swallow her current mouthful, Irshe replied:
“Our Warmaster made weapons of our river and our harvest of oil. She caused the water to rise at night, a handspan over the flat land, and sent burning oil into their camp. She ringed them with longbowmen on the lake side and four hundred pike and five hundred cavalry on the shore side, and her ships’ mortars struck wherever they tried to gather their forces. They had no chance to use their nano’ire. If your sky-ship had not arrived when it did, I doubt twenty of them would have survived the night.” As the translation murmured from their suits’ speakers, both Marines looked impressed, Gilman actually closer to awed.
“That is very impressive, Kirrah,” Lieutenant Warden said. You may have the makings of an honest Greenbutt!”
“From you, high praise, Marcus. What my friend fails to mention is the other four or five hundred dedicated soldiers and sailors that made it such a success. When you get a chance, ask one of the archers to show you what they can do with these longbows. They can shoot a man out of his saddle at a hundred meters, and they have also learned to launch grenades and incendiary arrows. We should put on a demonstration for you.” Corporal Gilman’s eyes went even rounder and she exclaimed:
“Wait! You mean you routed nine or ten thousand enemy supported by Kruss tech, with a force of fifteen hundred and a Survey hand beamer?” Oops, thought Kirrah, when you put it that way…
“Well, that plus the five or six hectares of burning oil drifting through their camp…” she added, a little lamely. Marcus and Adrianne looked at each other.
“Definitely the soul of a Greenbutt, don’t you agree, Corporal?” said Marcus.
“Absolutely, sir. Just need to have that annoying modesty surgically removed, and she could be in my team any day. Begging the Lieutenant’s pardon, ma’am.”
After lunch they made their way back to the city, two on horseback and two riding on a ‘Tango’, one of the versatile four-wheeled open light military vehicles Marines took everywhere they landed. As they approached the city’s west wall, a comparably diverse convoy was just emerging from the Sun Gate.
In front was another Tango, pulling an adapted market cart bearing Kirrah’s Kruss prisoner in a restraint frame. Behind followed another Tango carrying three alert, armed Marines. Third in procession was a Talamae horsedrawn carriage, with Doris Finch looking all the world like a queen on review. Beside her in the carriage was another Marine guard, looking a little nonplussed at his conveyance. As they passed, the Kruss barked and hissed a few words, which Kirrah’s translator rendered as:
« There! There is one maimed me! Fired to me when I was bound! Arrest it! I demand you arrest it! »
Kirrah signaled a halt to both columns. She carefully eyed the restraint frame, noticing the square outline of hullmetal bars, the chains and manacles, and the strips of ‘slo-flo’ wrapped around each limb of the Kruss. The slo-flo material, a resin/metal-fiber composite, would bend easily at low speeds, but would lock into immobility if forced to move faster than a crawl. It effectively more-than-neutralized the Kruss’ speed advantage. She stepped up onto the wagon and addressed the prisoner:
“Why, it’s my old friend Liss-ghack! I couldn’t let you depart without a goodbye. And how nice to see your new foot has almost grown back!” Indeed the stump had budded and the bud had grown into a foot already almost three quarters as large as the original. The new skin was hairless and pale pink. Kirrah drew her Survey Service beamer and made a show of setting it to cutting mode.
« Assault! Mayday! You will be charged! Reparations! »
“Why, Liss-ghack! You misjudge me!” Kirrah smiled sweetly. “I only want you to have something to relieve the boredom of a long voyage back to a Regnum base.”
« Regnum base, negation! You promised repatriation to Kruss world! Treachery! »
“That, of course, was before we caught you using these!” Her left hand pulled a small object from a suitpouch and held it before the creature’s left eye. The being flinched sharply and its gums faded from dead black to a medium blue-gray.
“Oh, don’t fear, it’s quite harmless with its nanoblok fried. And I doubt it would respond to Kruss meat in any case. You and your friends programmed it to attack humans only, didn’t you!” The last words hissed between Kirrah’s teeth in a good imitation of the hissing sounds in the Kruss language. Her subject thrashed in its restraints, drawing as far from her as they allowed. The thin cutting beam from Kirrah’s weapon made a tiny frying-bacon sound as she thumbed it on, the muzzle pointed straight up. Several alarmed Marines, not including Warden or Gilman, were aiming weapons indecisively in her general direction, she noticed from the corner of her eye.
“So, Kruss meat, as much as I’d like to test whether you can grow a new head as easily as a foot,” Kirrah thumbed the beamer off with a small pouff of cooling air, “What I’m going to do, is see that the Talamae people press charges against the Kruss Empire for use of illegal weapons. We’ve already got an attorney. These tiny trophies of evidence are quite plentiful enough in the city. They will be Exhibit Two. You, Liss-ghack, will be Exhibit One. And that’s why you’re going to a Regnum base, it’s where the nearest Civilium Scrutineer is.” The prisoner was trembling, as violently as the slo-flo restraints allowed, and his eyes were rolling independently in his head.
Kirrah continued, merciless, “You know your mistake, Lssghagk? When you programmed your smartshots, you forgot to exclude our children. When you kill our children, humans get irritable, even dangerous. You might remember that. I bet you’re going to have a long time, to remember that.”
Around the tiny tableau, the eight Regnum Marines and one Survey Service Sensor Specialist First Class stood and applauded openly. Kirrah took a tiny bow and leapt down from the cart, waving the procession on. Doris signaled her Talamae driver to a halt opposite, and stepped down to touch her friend’s shoulder, which was trembling slightly, whether from anger or simply reaction neither could have said. They stood a moment watching the Kruss borne away toward the waiting shuttles. Then Doris turned and hugged her friend.
“Damn, woman! I had no idea how dangerous you are! You have true inner mean-th! Congratulations! I begin to see why they appointed you Warmaster, you just scare their enemies to death! Not that the little lizard didn’t deserve it. I
especially liked the part where, instead of threatening him personally, you threatened his Empire but using him as a weapon! Nothing could be worse for his future.”
“I was impressed,” added Lieutenant Warden, in what sounded like a professional critique. “I didn’t know a Kruss could even go pale like that. What did you think, Corporal Gilman?”
“Lieutenant Warden, I take back my ill-considered remarks about the lady’s modesty. I’ll have her guard my six any day. Any day at all.” Kirrah understood this was the highest praise a Marine could bestow on a lesser being, and just stood a moment, hearing Irshe’s words to her the night before: ‘Watch, aska. Only see what-is.’
After a moment, Doris broke the silence.
“So, Kirrah old shipmate and dearest friend, just how tough is this debrief?”
“Now you grovel”, Kirrah rejoined, thankful for the break in mood. “This, my Greenbutt friends, is the woman who kept me standing, literally in the dark, for hours, while she flew over in the comfort of her very own shuttle. Withholding her name while she had mine! And now she wants me to risk the wrath of the meanest Admiral this side of Draconis Prime, and discuss the mission with her before debrief! Have fun, Ms. Finch, and I suggest you ask them to warm their instruments before they begin the interrogation! Guards, take her away!” The twinkle in Kirrah’s eyes was matched nicely by the satisfying small worry-frown developing between her friend’s eyebrows.
“Thank you for bringing lunch, Irshe’jasa. While I’m at the treaty talks, would you please help Janna’tha, and as soon as the Navy volunteers arrive, put them to work sweeping the smartshotz out of our city, north to south. We will need very clear danger boundaries marked as we allow people to begin returning to their homes, those things can move twenty or thirty hab’la to find prey. And wear a suit while you’re working there, Gilman can find you one. Also could you take care of…” They resumed their ride east along Slow Water Road, to their duties at the Palace.
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