Angel 6.0: Emissary

by Travis Luedke

  Cesar held out his hand for patience and silence. “What’s happening? Are we negotiating for peace … or something else?”

  I ignored his question. He didn’t deserve any answers from me. “I want you on standby in your Shadow cruiser, waiting on my word. I want Chancy at my back. I need a second set of eyes on the DC, and he’s the only other person here who speaks English. I’d take Azad, but you’ll need him in case you have to jump.”

  “Why would we have to jump?”

  I stepped in close and grabbed Cesar by his shirt. “When I give the signal, you’re going to tether the meeting station and jump us out past the asteroid belt, far out of reach of the fleets. Everyone is primed for war, dying to pull the fucking trigger. If it falls apart like I suspect it will, I want everyone removed from the communications loop so I can leverage this peace negotiation. They need to be cut off from the support and menace of these fleets in standoff. Once we’ve jumped, no one has any support unless they get it from me.”

  Cesar’s sharp eyes watched me and a slow grin built on his face. “Genius! You’re the only one with a touch of neutrality. If we can sequester the negotiators, they’ll have little choice but to follow your lead!”

  I nodded. “I’m getting a peace treaty signed … one way or another. Take Azad and strap your ass into the Shadow cruiser. Stay hidden, and don’t you dare communicate with anyone but me. Chancy will watch my back and relay my orders, are we clear?”

  Cesar looked at his right hand man and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re doing this Chancy. Angel needs your help. This is your shot at making a difference in this fucked up war. Don’t let us down.”

  Chancy grumbled low in complaint then caught me with a harsh squint. “Make damn sure I get paid a savage pile o’ credits. I’m not dancing with the DC and painting my face on a warrant order unless I can retire to one of those lifeliners headed for deep space with cabins full of Mollies hot to populate a new world. That’s my price, and don’t be forgettin’!”

  I had no idea who would pay Chancy. Though I’d been bought, sold, rented, and traded as a slave, money and credits were meaningless to me. I’d never owned anything but the clothing on my back and the pirate standing in front of me with a smirk on his face. Cesar promised to make good on Chancy’s demands, shook hands with the Irishman, and the issue was settled.

  With his second dismissed, I pulled Cesar in close, our bodies aligned. I needed to feel him one last time. “Follow the Gran shuttle to the meeting station and wait for my word. Have your tethers prepped and jump drive warmed up.” Instead of the beat down he deserved for lying to me all these months, I kissed him long and hard, relishing the taste of him.

  I had no idea if I would ever see him again. Probably better to kiss him goodbye than kick him in the nuts like I wanted to.

  * * * *

  Chapter 20

  I spent my last hours aboard the royal flagship curled between Rollick and Chilla. My Prince and concubine lavished loving affections on me, one last time. Rollick sensed something, and he refused to let me leave without his protection.

  “The Emperor needs me there. He ordered that I join the Guild Cats as his representative. Me, alone. I am bringing Chancy for security. I will be safe, I promise.”

  His claws gripped around my ass and he picked me up into the air. I wrapped my legs around his chest in a squeezing hug. He was such a powerful Cat, and I loved him now more than ever. A year ago, if someone would have told me I’d mate a Cat and fully accept him as my lover, I’d have laughed in their face at the ridiculous notion. Now, I couldn’t imagine life without Rollick.

  “Angel, I will not rest until you’re returned to me safely. As Princess, this is your responsibility, your oath to me. Do not fail me.”

  I nodded, kissed his nose and hugged him hard, drying my tears on the prickly fur of his shoulder.

  * * * *

  A recently decommissioned private space station was selected as neutral ground. The Gran Techs stood by quietly as they watched DC Techs retrofit the old station with an artificial G module. The Gran Techs scanned the entire vessel inside and out, detected no weaponry or potentially hostile devices, but were still skittish about a location they didn’t control. I explained to the Guild Cats this was the only place available for a safe location to meet. Surprisingly, the Guild officials quit grumbling and agreed to the meeting. Their Catty pride wouldn’t let them show fear, but I knew they were nervous.

  In the spirit of neutrality, everyone arrived unarmed. As arranged, I departed last from the Gran shuttle through the airlock and sealed the door behind me. I wore my usual Princess outfit – a barely there string bikini top of glittery gold fabric and a skimpy black skirt that left most of my thighs and ass bare. If anyone suspected me of hiding something, they didn’t have to look too hard to verify every part of me.

  My special bracelets complimented my outfit … newly charged and ready for action. Males and their idiotic biases – they couldn’t conceive how a half-naked woman might present a danger.

  The Chairman complained loudly, flinging his hand in my direction. “She is not allowed. We have Corporal Givens, a certified translator. This creature is a non-human, an unknown quantity, and cannot be trusted.”

  “Cannot be controlled. Isn’t that what you told Earthside media? Trust is earned, Chairman, but control, that’s something I’ll never relinquish to any man or Cat. I earned the trust of the Emperor. He demands I speak on his behalf, and these Guild Cats are not familiar with your translator. They will not allow anyone but me to translate. I’m here to stay.”

  I translated the Chairman’s objections. The Guild Cats bristled anxiously. The big Miner Cat stepped forward and thrust his hand at the Chairman, a threatening gesture. “He will listen to the Emissary speak my words. You are the Princess, and carry the royal seal of the Emperor.” Seemed like he tried to convince himself as much as them.

  I translated and watched the matching defiant scowls of the Chairman, Admiral Ackerman, and a thin, squeamish man they’d brought as translator. I wondered where the good Doctor was, then smirked as I realized Doc Vale didn’t have the balls to face the Cats in person. Three meters of striped fur with claws and teeth was a scary proposition in close quarters – unarmed.

  I gave a smidgeon of respect to the Chairman and Admiral – they had the spine to show up, even if their translator looked about to piss himself.

  “Mr. Givens, you agree I am accurate and capable to convey proper meanings in this negotiation?”

  Givens eyes flicked back and forth from me to the Cats and the Chairman. “She speaks with uncanny inflection. I cannot match her. She is the better translator, Mr. Chairman.”

  The Chairman looked ready to push his translator out the airlock. “At the very least do your job, Givens. Keep an eye on her. Fill in anything she leaves out.”

  Givens squirmed visibly under his boss’s disapproval. The Chairman speared Chancy with a vicious glare. The Irishman at my side looked away, uncomfortable under the harsh scrutiny of one of the most powerful men in the solar system.

  “Who is he, and what purpose does he serve? I was not aware any other humans resided with the Gran. Is he another traitor to his species?”

  At the sound of Chancy’s teeth grinding, I laid a hand on his shoulder. “He is part of my entourage. Don’t be concerned with him.” Like that, I dismissed him. It’s not that I trusted Chancy, no … I knew what to expect from him. He was the only predictable element in the room.

  I proceeded, hoping to skim over the Chairman’s control-freakish nature. “The Guild Cats start the negotiation by addressing their grievances. The Miners Guild and the Traders Guild hold grievances for loss of life, equipment, and failed production quotas. The DC fleet attacked mining installations, killed hundreds of workers and destroyed living habitats. In one case the DC annihilated an entire asteroid filled with precious mineral – a highly valued commodity reduced to nothing more than debris. What recompense does the DC offer?�
��

  I knew what to expect, and it didn’t surprise me when the Admiral stepped forward to speak in a threatening stance. “We offer a fleet of plasma cannons and stealth warships to continue attacks against mining asteroids and Gran colonies – unless a peace accord is reached. The Gran raiders devastated many human mines, settlements, and habitats during the thirty-year war. Our stealth fleets know where to find the Gran. We can revisit our attack on the Gran mines and colonies at any time. There will be no recompense, apart from a new level of mutual respect and peace.”

  Translating to the Guild Cats, I could feel things going sideways fast. The Miner was the most dominant creature in the room, and he spoke for both Cats. “There will be no peace based on threats. Trader raids happened long ago. Actions before the treaty hold no place in this talk. Humans want respect? The Gran earn respect through proven honor. Recompense is honorable. The Gran respect those with honor.”

  Listening to this prick wax poetic about honor made me want to gag in my mouth, but I translated his words.

  The Admiral stepped back and let the Chairman speak. “Our former treaty was bereft of honor. The Gran forced us to sell ourselves into slavery to avoid constant raids and slaughter. The Gran showed no honor before, why is honor an issue now?”

  Back and forth we went. Honor, recompense, threat of attacks, threat of war, blah blah blah. I tried suggesting some kind of mechanical workers to replace the lost human slaves. The Cats had never delved deeply into robotics, and weren’t convinced by my idea. When I asked the Chairman, he started talking about the enormous expenses of robotic development, problems with training the operators, maintaining equipment from across the galaxy … a half dozen shitty excuses. Then he started off on his tirades about how he wanted every last device and tech the Gran had ever developed. How the Gran would submit their tech for human engineers to study…

  The Guild Cats went off in howls of protest as I translated the Chairman’s demands.

  The son-of-a-bitch Chairman wanted dominance over the whole fucking galaxy. Instead of finding a compromise, he’d rather cram his warships down the Gran’s throat and take peace by force.

  The Admiral and Chairman were getting angrier by the minute. The Cats seemed grumpy, but willing to wait out their position. Losing all those profits and production quotas had gifted the Guild Cats a miraculous measure of patience.

  The Chairman pushed past the circular arguments with a new issue. “And what of Angel? Masquerading as a peace ambassador, the Gran sent an elite warrior to the UN. This woman is a trained assassin. What justifies involving her in a peace negotiation? This is a farce!”

  Fucking Chairman was doing everything in his power to sabotage negotiations. He actually wanted war. “Listen asshole, I know for a fact you have a vested interest in war tech! Your hands are filthy with war-time profits. Stop making baseless accusations and worrying about me. You’re a walking talking conflict of interest. If anyone should be removed from the negotiations it’s you, Mr. Chairman.”

  The Chairman snapped a harsh look at Corporal Givens, who came to life and started growling and clicking in a mockery translation of Gran language, but close enough that the Guild Cats could understand the gist of the Chairman’s slanders towards me. The Corporal conveniently skipped translating my harsh response to the Chairman.

  The fatcat from the Traders Guild turned his scrutiny on me, with a blatantly disrespectful tone. “The Chairman’s accusations have merit. Given the choice, I would have killed you long ago. Today you are the Princess, protected by the highest laws of the Gran. I pray to Lura you do not shame the Emperor with your actions. By the Emperor’s decree we must all tolerate this hairless bitch and show her the respect of her station.”

  My fists clenched hard with the brand of respect I wanted to teach this fatcat – my foot planted a meter up his ass. If he kept running his slobbery, flea-bitten mouth …

  Calm, control, breathe in – breathe out. I needed a better grip on my adrenaline.

  Fatcat and I had loads of history. He’d convinced the Traders Guild to execute me for my offenses against Captain Cronin, the Cat who once claimed ownership of me. Rollick and the Emperor saved my ass from that fire. I owed it to the royal family to keep my self-control in check and see this through to a peaceful resolution.

  When I hesitated, the translator did his job and repeated fatcat’s nasty comments. Assholes were trying to make this about me. They could trade barbs at me all day and avoid the major peace issues. Fucktards.

  “Chairman, this is pointless. I represent the Emperor. You’re stuck with me. Now let’s move on to more important things, like how you will compromise with these Cats to find peace. I see no reason the DC cannot provide a suitable mechanical-robotic replacement for mining laborers and settle this dispute peacefully. It’s the obvious solution.”

  “We’ll do no such thing.” The Chairman reached out with his hand and set a small holovid disk on the table in the center of the room.

  A large holovid crackled to life, and I heard Jason’s voice. The words overlapped with vivid memories of my dead lover. My tangle-haired, half-naked appearance filled the display – A recording of Jason and me together on Captain Cronin’s ship.

  The Chairman snapped his fingers at his Corporal Givens. “Make sure they get every word of this.”

  * * * *

  Chapter 21

  I stood naked in front of Jason, tears in my eyes, my hair a wild black snarl. “I’m not an idiot and I’m not your whore! I don’t exist for your pleasure and abuse.”

  Slap. His head turned sideways and he staggered.

  I remembered this moment like yesterday – drunk on Gran liquor, angry, passionately in love, and tired of listening to Jason bait me about the time I spent with Captain Cronin.

  “I live in two worlds, Jason. Here, with you, and there, with him. No one gave me a choice. You have my body. I give it to you willingly. I give you all I have. I give you my love.” I’d never been one to cry, but the liquor had me sobbing on an emotional roller coaster, and I had to ride it out of my system.

  Jason closed in and wrapped me in a hug. I cried against his bare shoulder and wrapped my arms around him. “I just want to survive. The Gran must value me somehow if I am to survive in their world.”

  “Shh, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do this to you. It’s not your fault, Angel. It’s me … I can’t stand it when he takes you away. You’re so kind and beautiful. You’ve been so good to me. You’re the most unselfish woman I’ve ever met … I realize you’re doing this for me, too. I have no right to take away your future. Besides, I doubt they’ll let me live much longer. Not once you’re pregnant.”

  My eyes flashed with fear that Jason would learn the truth of my sterility. I had been lying to Jason and the Gran, trying to breed with him as commanded, knowing all along I could never have his child, no matter how much I might want to.

  “I’m not pregnant yet, and the Captain wants babies. Lots of babies. They won’t kill you, not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Jason pulled away and brushed my unruly hair from my eyes. “You would try to stop them, you strange woman.” He shook his head at me. “We’ve talked about this repeatedly, you know where I stand. I’m not giving the Gran any of my children, and neither are you. We made that pact, and I hold you to it.”

  His fingers drifted across my cheek, soft and loving. “You have no idea how remarkable you are, Angel.”

  The view in this holovid display was unmistakably from Jason, as though the camera was mounted somewhere on his head … or in his retinas, seeing exactly what he saw, hearing everything he heard.

  The sound of his loving voice crashed over me in a wave of renewed grief. Oh God, Jason, if only you’d survived to see the world-shattering effects of your research. Oh Jason. Tears blurred my eyes, but I couldn’t look away from these recordings of precious time spent with the man I still loved, even in death.

  The holovid flickered to another stolen m
oment with Cesar’s brother. Jason’s fists clenched around the bars of his cell. He cursed as the floor of the ship vibrated with shudders of explosive attacks. I came into view in the corridor dragged by a Warrior, one of Cronin’s crew.

  “What’s happening? Where were you?” Jason’s tension was evident in the high pitch of his voice.

  Another blast hit hard and bounced me and the Cat into the air. We landed on the floor in a tangle and I caught a slash of claws across my back as the Cat fought past me to his feet. The Warrior clicked his wristcom, unlocked the cell door and yanked me off the floor to throw me inside. I landed atop a pile of worker drones squatted down, huddled in fear.

  He’d put me in the wrong cell.

  Jason yelled from the adjoining cell. “Angel! What’s happening! Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

  I extracted myself from the drones and hit the bars of my cell yelling at the Warrior. “There, over there.” I pointed to Jason’s cell. “Not here. Wrong. Please, over there.” I pointed again to Jason’s cell.

  The Cat looked back and forth between me and the hallway, and his ears flattened as he hissed in frustration and fear. He was freaking out.

  More explosions rocked the floor sideways and Jason cursed as he bounced around his cell. I gripped the bars of my cell door as the world tilted ninety plus degrees. The jolt flung the Warrior backwards into the wall behind him. He bounced off the wall, yipped in pain, and fell towards me. His face slammed into the steel bars of my cell with a wet crunch. His yowls faded as he flopped unconscious.

  I hung suspended in the air from the bars. The walls of the ship had become the floors and ceilings.

  Hands pulled at my ankles. I looked down to find the clones climbing the side bars of the cell like a ladder, coming up to me. The one nearest reached up my skirt.