A Fiery Sunset

by Chris Kennedy

  Next was Lieutenant T’jto reporting the results of her interrogation of the MinSha prisoners, the former crew of Caw’kal.

  “They don’t have any details on the contracts,” the lieutenant reported. “They were hired for logistics. Hot logistics.” That meant there was risk of combat, which explained why a merc race was in the mix. An uplifted merc race, she thought as she recognized another “Sha” race. Part of her was still struggling to come to grips with the new paradigm. How much of the galaxy was still a residue of a war 20,000 years over with? Did the MinSha know their own origin? She imagined they did, although it probably wasn’t something they wanted to advertise.

  Next up came the report on the SalSha, the galaxy’s newest sentient race. Dr. Ramirez, with the assistance of the exotic Wrogul medical specialist, had performed a complete medical and psychological evaluation.

  “I also reviewed the fighter data,” Ramirez said.

  “What’s your conclusion?” Alexis asked.

  “They meet all the qualifications of a sapient species. Lieutenant Colonel Walker also gave us neurological data on the Salusians, their race’s name prior to uplift. While it might not have been their intention at the time, the Horde have created what may be the galaxy’s preeminent pilots.”

  “How so?”

  “The biomedical ranking of spatial awareness is known as the Richthofen scale and goes from 0 to 99. The SalSha rate a 92. There’ve been other races who tested higher, but none of them are sapient, according to the GalNet. Their G tolerance indicates they can take around 30 Gs prior to injury.”

  “The MinSha are better,” Alexis pointed out.

  “That’s true,” Ramirez agreed, “however the MinSha can only tolerate 11 gravities for extended periods. The SalSha can take 20.” Mumbles around the virtual attendees made Alexis call for silence so he could continue. “It appears an adaptation for their aquatic conditions. According to the info Lieutenant Colonel Walker gave me, it appears they were being experimented on prior to being formally uplifted. Genetic markers give us some clues. Anyway, their g-tolerance makes them incredibly formidable combat pilots.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Not quite. Their intelligence rates above average, and that’s only with the forced implants of the uplift at work. They’re naturally curious, and not overly aggressive. I’d say they’re close to being fearless and seem to maintain excellent bonds of loyalty. They also like to fight, a byproduct of their somewhat hostile native environment—they look at fighting as a form of play.” He paused for effect. “While there are only 30 of them here, there are hundreds—probably thousands—more on their home world. If the genetic stock is sufficient, it’s likely the Golden Horde has just created the 38th merc race in the galaxy.”

  “And committed the most flagrant violation of Union law I’ve ever heard of,” Paka said. The XO’s avatar floated in the virtual meeting space, its facial expressions identical to the real Veetanho’s—anger.

  “Be that as it may,” Alexis said, “this is the situation before us. While this charge appears to have merit, none of the others do. They’ve gone so far as to accuse the Hussars of massacring innocents in the battles perpetrated against us.”

  Alexis took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. “Earth is under occupation; Major Drizz has provided us with the details. Peepo is out of retirement and in command of a massive multi-race army whose mission seems to be to bring humanity to trial for our many abuses,” she said, adding as much scorn to the last as was possible in a virtual environment.

  “Are they abuses?” Commander Kowalczy asked.

  “Or is this just a case of revenge for your success?” Commander Yoshuka asked. Like Kowalczy, he was a task force commander, and the only alien to rise to that position in the Winged Hussars; something he was rightly quite proud of. When Alexis said she was closing the doors and asked the commander if he wanted to leave, he’d laughed in her face. That made Alexis proud she’d promoted him.

  “There could be some of that,” Alexis said. “However, it doesn’t change the fact that humanity stands accused of crimes it didn’t commit. So…” she sighed, “we’re faced with a choice.” She looked around the circle of her closest aides, advisors, and senior commanders. “Do we stay here and weather the storm, or do we fight? What do you say?”

  * * *

  Cell 305C, Mercenary Guild, Capital Planet

  The door to Sansar’s cell opened and a Besquith stood in the doorway. “Let’s go,” he said, motioning with his laser rifle for her to come, as if she couldn’t understand. Another Besquith with a laser rifle waited outside, and the two motioned for her to precede them down the cell block hallway.

  “Are you guys expecting me to make trouble?” Sansar asked. Unarmed, one of the monsters could easily have torn her apart; two, with rifles, seemed like overkill. Literally. The first few times she’d been around Besquith, the scent of them, combined with the obvious things like their size, their numerous rows of teeth, and their ferocious-looking claws, had scared her so she could barely function. After a while, though, you kind of got used to the idea that they could kill you on a whim, accepted it, and went about your business. Besides, it pissed them off when you didn’t cower around them, which was fun…if also a little dangerous.

  “It’s procedure,” one answered.

  “Shut up,” the other said, jabbing the butt of his weapon into the other one’s shoulder. Sansar laughed. “You shut up, too,” the second added. He growled at Sansar and motioned down the hall with his rifle. “Go!” he ordered. “No talking.”

  She turned and walked down the cell block, which appeared mostly empty, aside from two Tortantulas, two Besquith, and a Zuul. Most of them looked like they’d been there for a while and seemed resigned to their fates. The only one with any life was one of the Besquith, who tried to grab her as she walked past.

  The alien was too slow; not only did Sansar dart out of the way, but the Besquith in charge used his rifle like a club and smashed the prisoner’s hand. Sansar was sure she heard bones break, but all the creature did was growl.

  Sansar looked at the prisoners in disgust, not for anything they’d done, but for the lies sold to humanity at their induction. Humans had been told jails didn’t exist…and had believed their Union negotiator. As she looked at the Zuul, emaciated and in chains, she realized that was just one more lie Humans had been told in a many-miles-long list of lies.

  The guards directed her through several passageways with a minimum of chatter, ultimately leading her to an unmarked door. The Besquith leader opened the door and motioned for her to enter. The small room appeared vacant, except for a Human-style chair in the center of the floor.

  “What’s that room?” Sansar asked.

  “It’s where you wait for trial. Go!” the leader said.

  Sansar shrugged—by herself, she’d have better conversation than she’d had with the Besquith—and entered the room. The space looked about the same as it had from the outside, fifteen-feet square and painted white, but there was one feature she hadn’t seen from the hallway—the wall the chair faced held three rows of three Tri-V monitors with a tenth monitor set off below them. The Besquith shut the door, leaving her with the chair and the Tri-Vs. She didn’t see any cameras in the room with her, but she had no doubt they were there.

  It was so obvious she was supposed to sit in the chair that she decided not to; instead, she walked over and inspected the Tri-V monitors. They seemed like normal monitors, although they were high-end models. Sansar frowned. Nothing but the best for those who were about to die.

  The center monitor came to life with the image of a Veetanho. “Please sit in the chair. The tribunal will begin momentarily.”

  “Sit in the chair? Where’s the tribunal to be held?”

  “It will be held right here. The members are still assembling and will appear on each of the monitors when they’re prepared. My name is Leeto, if you do not recognize me; I’m the Guild Speaker, and
I’ll be overseeing the tribunal.”

  “I want to be in the presence of my accusers. How do I even know the beings on the monitor are who you say they are?”

  “This is the last time I’ll tell you. Sit in the chair, Sansar Enkh.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “There’s a detachment of Besquith guards outside your door who’d be very happy to put you in it and attach enough restraints that you won’t get out of it again.”

  Sansar didn’t know if there were Besquith outside the door, but she didn’t want to find out. If Besquith were given the order to do that, they’d happily do it, and she would not like the outcome. She sat in the chair.

  Within a few moments, the rest of the monitors came to life, showing the other members of the nine-member tribunal. Across the top were Guild Masters from the Selroth, Flatar, and Oogar races; in the center were Goka, Veetanho, and Tortantula Guild Masters; on the bottom row were Besquith, MinSha, and a race Sansar didn’t recognize.

  She found the file listing all the mercenary races in her brain and ran through it quickly. That was it! The creature was a Goltar, and the listing showed it both in and out of the water. The alien looked like a giant squid, especially when it was in the water. On land, like it was now, you could better see its snapping red beak underneath the bony crest that rose over its head.

  Not much was known about the Goltar, aside from the fact they had a permanent seat on the Mercenary Guild’s Council of Guild Masters. She’d tried to research the race when she was preparing for her VOWS but hadn’t been able to find much on the GalNet about them. After a lot of searching, she’d only come up with two bits of information. The first was a footnote in a several-thousand-year-old document that listed them as the leaders and foremost race of the 27 races of mercs in the Mercenary Guild. The other was a list of the members of the Council, which said their race held one of the positions but nothing else.

  The fact there was no information on the race indicated to Sansar there’d been a power struggle at some point in the Guild’s history, and the Goltar had lost. Based on the fact they held the Speaker’s position, Sansar guessed either the Veetanho, or a coalition of Veetanho and some of their cronies, had replaced them and had the Goltar’s info deleted from the GalNet. She didn’t know how that was possible, or why, but if someone had gone to the trouble to have all that information removed, the struggle must have been of epic proportions.

  She was surprised the Goltar had survived a conflict that resulted in the complete eradication of all information on them from the GalNet and wondered what sort of leverage they had over the other races that let them continue living despite their enforced non-existence.

  “Okay,” Leeto said. “I believe we’re ready?” She looked left and right, and Sansar realized that, wherever the Council was, they were together. The rest of the Guild Masters nodded or did whatever their species did to indicate agreement, except the Goltar. If it moved, Sansar didn’t see it.

  “As everyone is aware, we’re here today to discuss what to do to resolve the Human problem.”

  “Wait,” Sansar interrupted as she stood up. “What do you mean, ‘the Human problem’?”

  “I mean exactly what I said, the problem having to do with Humans,” Leeto replied. “If you interrupt me again, I’ll put you on mute and continue the proceedings without you.”

  “But that isn’t fair,” Sansar replied. “The Guild bylaws specifically state that I’m allowed representation.”

  “Yes, they do,” Leeto said; “however, it doesn’t appear you’ve brought a lawyer, so you’ve obviously chosen to represent yourself. If you fall afoul of the rules, you’ll be summarily removed, as any lawyer would be. The fault is, after all, yours for not bringing representation.”

  “Where exactly does it say that?”

  “It says it in the rules for parliamentary procedure. If you haven’t read them, you really should have. Now, sit down and don’t interrupt again.”

  Sansar sat.

  Before her backside hit the simulated wood of the chair, though, she’d already accessed the GalNet through her pinplants and searched for the rules on parliamentary procedure. The rules were downloaded as she sat, and she’d begun combing through them before her body stilled.

  “Now, as I was saying, we’re here today to discuss what to do about the Human problem, Case Number 9035768J.” Most of the Guild Masters again nodded their acknowledgements, although the Goltar still remained motionless.

  “The Human in front of us is Sansar Enkh, from the Human mercenary unit known as ‘The Golden Horde,’ which is one of their ‘Four Horsemen.’ As there are several charges against the so-called Four Horsemen, and I know your time is valuable, I’d propose we accept all the charges against the other Four Horsemen units, since they didn’t show up to represent themselves as they were duly notified they must.”

  “Second,” the Besquith representative said.

  Sansar raised her hand.

  “Third,” said the Goka counselor.

  “I believe the Human is trying to get your attention,” the Goltar announced through the rapid snapping of its beak.

  Leeto looked at the camera for several seconds, managing to convey her annoyance without speaking, then gave the same look off to her left, ostensibly at the Goltar representative. She finally turned back to Sansar and asked, “What?”

  “Speaker, I’m authorized to speak for all of the other Horsemen. By the way, raising my hand is the way Humans non-verbally indicate our intention to speak, in accordance with Rule 27B on how the Accused may address a council or tribunal.”

  Leeto looked even more put out for a moment, then said, “It’s impossible for you to speak for them. According to the rules, you must be a member of the organization in order to speak for it.”

  “I am, in fact, a one percent owner of all three of the other Horsemen mercenary organizations,” Sansar replied. “Here are the documents.” With a thought, she sent file copies to Leeto over the GalNet. “I’d like to have them entered into the record, in accordance with the standard evidentiary procedure.”

  The other representatives looked at Leeto, who continued to stare at Sansar, obviously regretting her error in telling Sansar about the rules of parliamentary procedure. After a couple of seconds she shook her head and said, “I have three signed purchase documents, showing Sansar Enkh bought a one percent stake in each of the other units, for the sale of one percent of her organization to them. I also have three documents from the heads of the other organizations authorizing Sansar Enkh to speak for them. Entering them into the record…now.” They appeared on the tenth monitor.

  After a few moments, the other members of the council indicated they’d viewed them.

  “It appears the Human has authorization to speak for her comrades,” the Selroth announced through his rebreather apparatus.

  “Yes…it does,” Leeto said. “Councilors, I’m going to have to ask for a recess for a few days. I wasn’t prepared to go through all the other charges, and I’ll have to assemble materials for you regarding the evidence I have.” She turned to the Besquith, “Do I have a second on a one-week recess?”

  “Second.”

  “Third,” the Goka added.

  “In that case, we’re in recess until one week from now, at the same time.”

  Before the monitors switched off, Sansar caught the look Leeto sent her. If she hadn’t been her enemy before, she was now.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Winged Hussars Prime Base, New Warsaw System

  “Corporal Culper?”

  Rick looked up at the little elSha medtech dressed in a red sash and carrying a tiny slate. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Ramirez just completed his conference and is available now,” the alien said, pointing down a hallway. “Examination Room #4.”

  “Thank you,” Rick said, placing the medical department slate back on the table. It was set to display “Hussar News” network and entertainment
, and Rick had been reading an interesting article about the project to adapt lifeforms to grow on the cold, dark environment of Home. He got up, a little hesitant, straightened his uniform jacket, and walked to the examination room.

  Inside, the tall figure of Dr. Ramirez was unplugging a jack from one of his pinplants and coiling up the cable. “Corporal Culper, how are you doing?”

  “Well enough,” Rick said, standing at attention.

  “At ease, Rick,” Ramirez said with a grin. “I’m not in the service; I’m just a physician. Have a seat.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rick said and sat on the edge of the chair. Ramirez shook his head and picked up a slate from the stainless-steel counter next to where he stood.

  “You were scheduled yesterday; I’m sorry we had to delay.”

  “That surprise MinSha ship,” Rick said, “with the otters.”

  “Right, they’re called SalSha. And yes, the commander needed some information.”

  “I’ve never heard of a race like that, or by that name.” Ramirez glanced at him for a second, then back to his slate.

  “It’s a big universe,” he said. That glance—it wasn’t much, but it was enough to let Rick know something was up. “So,” Ramirez began, “you decided to let Nemo have a looksee at your injury?”

  “Yes sir,” Rick said.

  Ramirez nodded then glanced at him more closely. “You seem a bit upset.”

  “I had an incident the other day.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?’

  “Frankly,” Rick said, “no.”

  “Okay,” Ramirez said and touched a few controls on his slate. An adjoining door opened, and a water tank on treads rolled in. The Wrogul inside was a member of an aquatic race whose water environment was highly unusual—the liquid was toxic to most of the races in the galaxy. The alien reminded Rick of an octopus, just like when he had first met it and the alien had installed Rick’s pinplants. As soon as the tank rolled into the examination room, the octopus-like alien began pulsing with ethereal light. A speaker on the side of the transport spoke in flawless English.