by Mark Wandrey
“I believe we’ve gained enough of value today.”
Var’at hissed in rage. “You are much more devious than we believed,” he told the human leader. “We shall not underestimate you again. May I ask the name of my wise opponent?”
“I am Minu Alma, Chosen of the Tog.”
Var’at had figured they were a Chosen group. Only the best of a species could ever defeat him. “You and your other males do them justice.”
“I am not a male,” she said. He looked at her with one eye and at the others with another. Aside from slightly longer hair on her head and fleshy bulges on her chest, he could detect no other differences. Was it true humans used females in combat? That spoke volumes about their foolishness.
“I understand,” was all he said. “Where do you wish me to wait?”
* * *
Minu watched the logistics team work with the handheld gravitic impellers they’d brought. They moved each crate to the platform, where they attached it to an oversize Broomstick. The pilot then took off down the tramway with it. A few kilometers away, they loaded the containers onto trams to take to the world’s portal. Unfortunately, the battle had done too much damage to the tram, and it would no longer function. A central computer had taken it off line. While they worked, Minu watched bots arrive and start repairs. No one had lived here for many centuries, yet the systems still functioned.
A short distance away, Var’at squatted and waited for them to finish. She’d assigned a scout armed with one of their projectile weapons to guard him, purely as a formality. Once he’d surrendered, he became docile as a kitten. Still, he watched everything with sharp eyes, taking careful note when the Broomsticks showed up, and watching how they used the portable gravitic impellers to move the heavy crates.
The leader of the logistics team that responded to her summons stared in slack-jawed shock when he saw her standing by the portal armed with an alien energy weapon and protected by a personal shield. She showed him the quickly improvised stock they’d crafted in the tram, using their rifle stocks. It was crude, for certain, yet it allowed them to aim and fire the weapon with some accuracy without disabling their old guns.
The logistics three-star let her know when they whisked away the last container on a Broomstick so they could leave, as well. Minu rode on the rear of one, with Var’at between her and a nervous four-star logistics Chosen, as they raced down the tramway.
“Are you certain you do not need a medic to look at that?” Minu indicated the Rasa’s neck. There was a neat half circle cut through the fleshy frill on the back of the being’s long, flexible neck. She couldn’t imagine it not hurting, though there was very little blood. The beamcaster had effectively cauterized the wound.
“I will survive to see one of our own medics.” One of Var’at’s independently swiveling eyes turned to look at her for a moment. “Not that I doubt your technical ability; you humans are very ingenious,” Var’at hissed.
“All we did was find your cache before you returned. Pure luck.”
“It was luck, but I was not referring to that. I mean the way you used discarded technology and adapted it to such great effect. Many species would sooner do without than survive on the refuse of greater species.”
“We are young and poor; we do what must be done.”
“You may be correct on both accounts, yet that does not reduce the credit you are due for your resourcefulness.” A short time later they were on a tram, rocketing toward the world’s portal.
“I am surprised you are taking this as well as you are,” Minu said after a period of silence.
“What makes you think I am taking it well?”
“You do not seem angry, and you’ve made no attempt to escape or injure us.”
“The law forbids this. You have acted within the law; I must do the same. While you are resourceful, you have much to learn of the empire.”
“How will your people react to this loss?”
“We will consider the situation, plan a strategy, and enact a retribution as extreme as can be justified under the law.”
Minu swallowed and tried to remain calm. Sitting next to a representative of an independent species as he threatened your own species was an unnerving experience.
“I understand,” she said simply.
“I hope you do. You must realize those weapons did not belong to us.”
“I assumed they did.”
“Do you believe we would be armed and equipped thusly, if they were ours?” The Rasa gestured to his equipment lying on the floor a few meters away. She would send him home with his gear, as was apparently the law. She’d already made certain the weapon was unloaded and powered down. Having seen it rip apart the tram like an ungodly chainsaw from hell, she had no interest in being a target again.
“No, I guess that doesn’t make much sense.” The tram stopped, and they exited onto the platform. Closing their protective gear, they climbed to the surface within view of the portal. A group of a dozen Chosen was moving the last of the containers through the portal onto the winter landscape of FAX544. Var’at studied the scene carefully, an action not lost on Minu. “So you were entrusted to deliver this equipment by the owners?” Var’at nodded. “Who would that be?”
“The T’Chillen, of course.”
Minu put on her best poker face as the Rasa’s independent eyes studied her carefully. When he finally looked away, she swallowed hard and tried not to scream. This was not the time for panic.
A short time later, her team of scouts and Var’at stood in front of the portal. She handed him his control rod and he activated the portal. He made no attempt to hide the destination, so she didn’t bother trying to see where it was. The Rasa were far too intelligent to make such an amateurish mistake. The portal opened onto an endless plain of waving grass, where an orange sun shined warmly.
“I depart now,” he told her. A scout handed him his equipment, which he slung over one shoulder.
“Farewell,” she said.
“We shall meet again,” he said and stepped through. On the grassy plain he turned, pointed his control rod, and the portal closed.
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” she said to the quiet portal before taking her own control rod and opening the way to FAX544. She was going to have a long report to write, and probably a longer debriefing.
* * * * *
Chapter 15
Octember 25th, 516 AE
Council Chamber, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Faced with the same decision, Minu was sure she would have made the same call again. But sitting in front of the Chosen council for the third day made her resolve slip. They asked the same questions over and over, trying to understand her decision process. Did she carefully take the ROE into account before ambushing the Rasa team? Wouldn’t negotiation have served the Chosen better? Had she considered the Tog before taking the cache, which the Rasa claimed was T’Chillen property? And on, and on, ad nauseam.
She’d received a few messages from her team after returning. The scouts who’d fought the battle alongside her finished their briefings and offered her, albeit quietly, their support for her decision to fight and claim the cache. Richardson and Capella did the same. In fact, she’d gotten text messages of support from just about every Chosen she’d worked with thus far.
The greatest drama came when Bjorn Ganose strode down from his seat, resplendently attired in a black dress uniform, the silver stars on his cuffs catching the light. It was either bad luck or perfect timing that First Jacob showed up at exactly the same time. Bjorn’s testimony about Minu’s incredible resourcefulness and decisiveness was noted, and that was it. He returned to his seat looking annoyed and cast a worried glance at her.
Finally, at the end of the third day, the proceedings began to wrap up. Only the actual council remained. The two-stars from each of the five branches of the Chosen, the First and his Second, seven men no younger than twice Minu’s age, all looked very displeased with her. Only Bjorn look
ed down on her with compassion in his old eyes. Dram’s face betrayed no emotion at all. Minu struggled not to break down and start crying. Her powerful inner fire of self-righteousness held her resolve strong. I didn’t do anything wrong, damn it!
“I think it only fair that Minu be allowed to make a statement,” Dram said suddenly. Minu hadn’t said more than a few words to him since his promotion. She saw the First shoot him a surprised look, then quickly cover it up.
“There is no precedent for that,” Jacob said with a dismissive gesture.
“Neither is there for trying a Chosen team commander before the entire council without charging her,” Bjorn put in. There were mumbles all around, and Jacob’s expression turned stormy. What had she done to anger him? Was it that she was a girl, or did he harbor resentment toward her father? She understood that Seconds, usually appointed for political reasons, typically came from a First’s chief rivals. That seemed the case when watching Dram and Jacob. She thought they were much closer before she’d got to know them; now she wondered if the weight of leadership was pulling them apart.
“I would like to hear from the Chosen.” All heads turned in surprise toward the synthetic voice. A lone Tog stood by the open doorway. Two nervous Chosen waited just behind hser.
Jacob bowed his head and stared guardedly at the Tog’s three-digit feet for a long moment before replying. “P’ing, you do your Chosen a great honor!”
Being a lowly four-star Chosen, Minu dropped to the proper respectful posture, touching her chin to the floor before rising. The Tog’s huge silvery almond-shaped eyes had evolved on a jungle-covered world where they lived in perpetual twilight. They turned their entire heads to look at an individual and took advantage of their eyes’ natural fish-eye effect to scan a room. You never knew if they were staring at you unless they looked right at you, yet Minu felt she had this particular Tog’s complete and undivided attention.
“I wanted to come and speak with you about the captured cache and was puzzled to find you missing from your office. I decided to wait for your return. That was many hours ago.”
“Great patron, you need only summon me!” Jacob spluttered.
“I ordered your assistant not to do so; instead I asked to be brought to you. Your assistant was taken aback and took some time to decide to follow my orders. Eventually, I arrived here.” Hse didn’t sit; instead hse stood in place on the being’s horse-like lower legs. Listening to a Tog speak was like a light show mixed with a ballet.
The Chosen standing to the right of the Tog looked like he was about to faint. A four-star not much older than Minu, he looked like someone who’d rather be wrestling a Kloth than standing in that room at that moment. Jacob fixed him with a look that spoke of more pain to come, then dismissed both escorts with a quick hand gesture. They retreated, closing the door behind them. “How can we serve you, master patron?”
“We, of course, received your notification of the cache and its recovery by our Chosen, and I decided to come and discuss this development with you in person. You will explain the meaning of this meeting of your Chosen council.”
Dram and the other Chosen turned to look at Jacob. Dram seemed almost as eager as the Tog to hear his explanation. P’ing settled onto the first joint of each leg, rather like a human sitting cross legged. The Tog weighed almost three hundred kilos, so none of the chairs would hold hser.
“Well, honored patron, we are conducting a hearing into this Chosen’s actions on GBX2334. This council has agreed that those actions have placed us, humans on Bellatrix, in some jeopardy. We are further concerned for you, our generous patrons.”
“While appreciated, your concern for us is misplaced and confusing. You must misunderstand your position as clients of the Tog. It is neither your place nor your job to be concerned with our position within the Concordia. I have read the report and summary of this Chosen’s actions on GBX2334, provided by your Second, and find hser execution of duty to be within the law, and in our best interest.”
“But we, the council, were not consulted about whether to engage in combat or claim the cache!”
“You did not instruct the Chosen Minu Alma that the Rules of Engagement had changed. You sent the Chosen Minu Alma to evaluate the cache and determine its worth, and the Chosen Minu Alma entered a hostile situation where not only was combat not precluded by position within the Concordia, but hse had been involved in hostilities with that species in the recent past. We are wondering what is to be gained by this hearing, if the Chosen has performed hser duty as instructed and trained?”
Minu remained kneeling without saying a thing; a four-star Chosen did not presume to rise or speak to a Tog unless invited to do so. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Had a Tog, the one in charge of all humanity, come to her personal defense? It must be a mistake. There had to be some sort of higher reason.
The First looked to his fellow council members for support. Whatever support he’d gotten to call the hearing suddenly evaporated at P’ing’s appearance. “There is no further reason for this hearing,” Jacob growled.
“That is good. Attend to me, First; we have business.” P’ing rose to hser feet and moved toward the councilor’s private exit. As hse passed Minu, P’ing turned hser head and, in an unmistakable movement, regarded Minu directly. Minu touched her chin to the floor again. P’ing very clearly and noticeably nodded hser head, then left the room, followed by the council. Only Dram glanced back at her, with a grin and a wink.
* * *
“You’re still in uniform,” Pip noted as she entered her office. He was sitting behind her desk using her computer, an unabashedly surprised look on his face.
“Trying out the chair for size?” she asked while he moved to one of her two cramped guest chairs.
“Not at all. You couldn’t pay me enough to strap on a gold star.” A mischievous look crossed his face, and he shrugged. “Well, maybe if it was only one…”
“I’m sure you have a better chance than I do, after today.” She practically fell into her chair, letting it recline until it hit the stop, leaving her almost parallel with the floor. “Oh shit, that was the worst experience of my life!”
“Tell me what happened.” Minu glanced at her computer and was not surprised to see that Pip had already hacked it and was trying to find out about the hearing. With a sigh, she told him everything. It took a few minutes for her to reach the dramatic interjection by Bjorn. “That was my idea,” Pip said. “He didn’t realize you were being eviscerated. I take it he was no real help?”
“Unfortunately, no. They were developing some sort of plan, when P’ing showed up and spoiled the party.”
“P’ing, the Tog leader? No way!”
“Yep, none other.”
“Hse must have a planned meeting with the council, and that little show went long.”
“I don’t believe so. No, I’m sure hse didn’t. I don’t think the council expected hser appearance. It even looked like Jacob had tried to keep the Tog from showing up.”
“Then how did hse know about the hearing?”
“Dram sent hser my report.”
“Really? Isn’t that the second or third time he’s stepped on Jacob’s toes on your account?”
“Probably.”
“I think he might be sweet on you,”
Minu blanched, and Pip laughed. “Be serious,” she almost yelled, quickly lowering her voice, before someone in the next office wondered what was going on. “He must be more than twice my age.”
“Some guys like young girls…”
“Most men seem to prefer young girls,” she mumbled and couldn’t help thinking of Ted Hurt, doctor and pervert. He’d invited her to meals more than a few times since they’d met. Minu always brought a friend along, usually Gregg, or even better, Aaron. Of course, Ted was always a gentleman, but she was sure his interests ran much deeper than his professed interest in her education. “No, Dram is not that kind of guy. I mean, sure he’s handsome and built like a fortress, but
he’s never so much as touched my hand. And he’s at least twice my age!”
“Then why has he risked his career to help you over and over?”
“I don’t know how much risk he took. Maybe he made a promise to my Dad? They were friends, you know.” Pip shrugged. Minu’s computer chimed, and she looked. A friend in logistics had sent her a message. P’ing had made hser request for a share of the loot from the mission. Pip warned her that it was the Tog’s right to take a share. Considering the incredibly valuable nature of the goods, she’d thought the Tog would clean them out. Sure, they’d leave the humans a share, and the council would sell it to buy more affordable weapons and equipment. Humanity would also get credit for the find, against their rescue debt. With a sigh, she read the message.
“That bad?” Pip asked when Minu gasped and put a hand to her face.
“No, not bad, unbelievable!” she said and turned the computer so he could see.
“I don’t believe it,” he said, “they’re only taking five guns and fifty of the shields? Still, that’s half the shields…”
“Yeah, only half. I thought you said they’d take most of it!”
“I don’t know what to say; this is unexpected. Don’t they know how much those guns are worth?”
“I’m sure they do,” Minu said and read the rest of the message. “Look here, P’ing has instructed us not to sell them, and to use no more than ten for experimentation or spare parts.”
“What do they expect us to do with them?”
“Use them, I suspect.”
Pip blinked and shook his head. “The Tog are the teddy bears of the Concordia; you know that as well as I do. They avoid fights at all costs, and when they must fight, they hire someone else to do it for them. Remember that class on Concordian socio-economics where the teacher talked about how much they spent on that little skirmish a hundred years ago?”
“Maybe that’s the point,” she said to herself.
“Huh?”