by Blaze Ward
Instead, the pilot was bringing the vessel alongside SeekerStar’s central hub, where her larger vessel did not rotate to provide gravity, like it did out on the wheels.
She was down here to meet the being known as a trademaster. Erin, Daniel, and A’Alhakoth were with her.
“Docking now,” Ife said over the intercom from the bridge behind Kathra. “Not doing a bad job of flying, either.”
High praise indeed, coming from a woman like Ifedimma Ogu, who served as bridge commander of SeekerStar when Kathra was elsewhere, such as flying in Spectre One. Ife’s standards for professionalism were higher than most of the Tribal Squadron could maintain.
These strangers must be good. But that made sense, with a species that had been in space, exploring and trading for several thousand years. And had evolved from creatures similar enough to hammerhead sharks on Earth.
The ship rang with disparate sounds as the transporter came into contact and locked itself to SeekerStar with magnets. Neither vessel had similar standards for docking equipment, so the visitors would rely on a soft-seal airlock for now.
Perhaps later Kathra would install an Anndaing-standard airlock and dock for them later. Or modify the flight deck airlocks to handle a vessel that large being hauled inside.
Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
Daniel was hanging almost upside down right now, relative to SeekerStar’s spine and bridge. Erin was off by perhaps only twenty degrees. A’Alhakoth stood at her side.
Kathra found it amusing that Daniel wore his darkest blues today, both pants and long-sleeved shirt. It made him almost disappear, compared to the matching tangerine denim that she and the other two women wore.
But Daniel was also the odd-woman out here. The only male aboard SeekerStar, at least once the visitors left later. The only telepath.
At least the two of them were both being chased by intractable, relentless enemies. That gave him better reason to belong, besides just being her cook. But he had stopped being merely a cook a long time ago.
Now he was comitatus. But more importantly, he was someone she trusted with her life.
The inner airlock door began to ping and beep as the system engaged. Door blades irised open and a strange smell wafted into the air.
Salty, perhaps. Musky in ways she didn’t think she had ever encountered before.
Kathra assumed that it was the smell of Anndaing, mixed with their technology. Certainly, the visitors would be similarly assaulted by the new.
It would put everyone on an even footing, hopefully.
A creature emerged from the airlock. Kathra had seen pictures of the Anndaing, but never put it into perspective. Gray, leathery skin with visible scales that almost glistened.
They were erect bipeds by design. Two legs. Two arms. Five fingers and a thumb that worked close enough to the human design for comparison, if flatter, like it had evolved from a fin.
The head threw all her imaginations off. He had a jaw and mouth like a human, perhaps wider and shallower in a way that would look weak on a human. Nearly lipless, especially compared to her.
Above the mouth was the sensor hammer. Cartilage, rather than bone, it stuck out past the sides of the bone skull like two semi-flattened number four cans of tomato sauce stuck together, with large eyes on the outer portion, the ends canted slightly forward like a rhomboid.
It would give the creature fantastic parallax for hunting, and the black-pupiled eyes were larger than hers, so Kathra suspected that he would see better in the dark than she. Useful in the depths from which the species had originally emerged, countless millennia ago.
A nose with two nostrils was just above the hammer like the blowhole on a Terran cetacean. She wondered if the design was similar to a human whale, with the convergent evolution that had created the hammerhead shark.
Every planet answered the question of biological advancement in its own way.
The creature wore clothing with a distinct military feel to it. Stubby legs ended in leather boots with a heavy tread. Dark gray cloth covered the spots that weren’t sheltered with armor plates and occasional joint armor at the flex points. A belt rode low on the hips, with a pistol, a knife, and several pouches for what she assumed were combat gear if needed.
The man’s torso was long. Daniel’s torso, relative to the legs, was long compared to most of her women. The stranger was as much longer than Daniel.
In addition, when she looked closely the creature’s armor looked like larger-pattern scale mail, with each layer a little bigger than the one below as it went up the body, until the ones protecting the collarbones were the size of her palms.
She’d seen a fin on the creature’s back when it emerged, swimming easily until it found one of the staples designed to be used in zero gravity. That had armor on both sides as well.
Finally, the helmet covered the rear of the skull, with a flipped-up faceplate that would cover the hammer, the whole being transparent enough to see in all directions.
Kathra assumed that the creature would see like a whale as well.
It came to a rest at a reasonable distance, one boot hooked into the staple and the other cocked and ready to fling the creature across the room into mortal combat if that became necessary.
Kathra wasn’t offended. Erin and A’Alhakoth were similarly poised.
Daniel appeared to be relaxed, but she knew better. He would step into someone’s mind at the first moment of danger and do things to them to render the danger nullified.
She had told him not to kill anyone, even with provocation. Pulse pistol bolts were far easier to explain than someone’s mind shorting out.
The first Anndaing had a title of Caravan Guard, translated by A’Alhakoth into Spacer. She could tell the creature was a close cousin of Erin. No, actually, probably more like Nkechi, since that woman specialized in grappling and close combat.
Yes, Nkechi’s deadly cousin.
She nodded to the creature as he came to rest.
He nodded back and made a sound possibly the equivalent to a whistle.
The trademaster emerged now. He lacked the armor, but wore similar grays. And had not strapped armor or weapons over it, so she could see his outline better.
Exotic and alien, but close enough for her needs. A Vida or an Atter would have been far more interesting to negotiate with, but they already knew humans, from their stations and colonies in the Free Worlds.
The trademaster came to rest on a different staple and studied the four of them for a long moment. His face seemed to smile when he saw A’Alhakoth, a species he should at least recognize.
For the rest of them, that woman’s blue was offset by browns and pinks. Kathra wondered if the gray-skinned Anndaing had color receptors, since they had evolved in the depths, but Kathra remembered reading about bioluminescence on sharks and other creatures from the deep.
Now she wondered if he might light up with glowing tattoos in certain circumstances.
The trademaster spoke in a rich baritone that was obviously used to dealing with strangers.
Kathra nearly laughed when Daniel replied and the man flinched visibly.
They exchanged several sentences as Kathra watched.
“His name is Crence Miray, and as Trademaster of the voyager Koni Swift he brings you greetings from the Anndaing Merchants Guild,” Daniel said pleasantly, turning to face her. “The Caravan Guard is named Alten Rezal, and appears to be something like the equivalent of a Sept Sardar. I have introduced each of you to them as well.”
“Invite him to accompany us to the outer decks, Daniel,” Kathra commanded the chef with a smile. “We will work better in gravity as we talk.”
She listened, but understood barely one word in ten. Still, that was an improvement. And she could imagine being mean enough to transform the entire tribe into speaking Anndaing one of these days instead of Spacer.
If she never intended to return to human space, was a human language even necessary?
The trademaster
bowed, gesturing with both flat hands outward in an interesting way, palms up and wider apart than his shoulders. She took that as a good sign and bowed similarly in return.
Moving to the lift was an experiment in social grace. Kathra and to a lesser extent Erin were graceful in zero gravity. A’Alhakoth and Daniel were landswomen. The two visitors moved like sharks, thrusting ahead with such unerring accuracy of vector and direction that Kathra was deeply impressed.
That would come through with their vessels as well. Perhaps she should indeed consider transforming a Cargo-Six into a warscout at some point, if their vessels were as graceful as their masters.
Into the lift, the smell of shark, if that was what it was, was stronger. Richer, like freshly brewed coffee demanding your attention, but doing it in a polite, friendly sort of way, first thing in the morning.
She listened as Daniel explained the workings of the lift, and the need to be feet down as they moved outward into the pseudo-gravity of SeekerStar’s spin. Both men seemed amused, so she made a mental note to ask what system they used for ship’s gravity.
Sept vessels and TradeStations used Gravity Field Inducers, which were huge and hideously wasteful of power. Sept Patrol vessels used the same, so they tended to be more than half filled with generators and inducers, with barely any space left for crew and guns. A’Alhakoth had mentioned a similar system, but hadn’t known any details.
Kathra still could not imagine that Patrol ships were comfortable to live aboard.
SeekerStar and the rest of the Tribal Squadron relied on spin around a central axis, with each ship having a wheel that felt like standard gravity and allowed one to walk in a continuous circle. SeekerStar’s three decks also allowed variable levels, with all the Spectres on the outer deck for launching, and the women sleeping on the inner deck, where they were closer to flying.
Quickly enough, the group emerged onto the middle deck.
The two Anndaing were more impressed as they felt gravity under their feet, since the ship turned slowly enough that Coriolis force was largely undetectable.
At least to a human. She wondered if they could sense it.
Kathra felt the need to reconsider every assumption, as she tried to filter it through truly alien eyes and minds.
Because she would need these people, if she truly meant to war on the Sept, one of these days.
Eleven
A’Alhakoth had never met one of the Elders, so she was more nervous than she should be. It helped that Daniel was translating, mostly because the trademaster would take them far more seriously if a human spoke.
Kaniea were already expected to be fluent.
She had escorted Kathra and Erin down, keeping a careful eye on the guard, but the man was acting entirely defensively, protecting his principal rather than threatening the humans.
Still, she could tell that the Anndaing were impressed from their body language. SeekerStar was still a brand new ship, purpose-built not that long ago. Everything still had that sheen of newness that drips and stains hadn’t ground off yet.
They ended up in the comitatus dining hall, which was the social center of the ship, any way you wanted to look at it. The Commander’s office would be more formal, but also far too crowded for six people.
Here, they could spread out.
They ended up with the trademaster on one side of the long trestle table and Kathra across from him. She and Erin flanked the Commander, while the one known as Alten sat to one side and Daniel was down the bench a respectful distance, acting as translator and aide to the aliens.
“What is this place?” the trademaster asked, looking around with curiosity.
Daniel glanced at her directly and nodded, so A’Alhakoth answered instead of him.
“The Commander’s warriors are called a comitatus, Elder,” she said carefully. “I am the newest member. We eat here communally, as well as use this space for meetings too large for the Commander’s personal office.”
“Warriors?” he asked, focusing both eyes on her now, although his peripheral vision was still watching the others.
A’Alhakoth turned to Kathra now.
“Should I explain the comitatus to him?” she asked. “He appears concerned that we are all warriors.”
“Yes,” Kathra said. “But exercise care in reminding them that we are travelers first, traders second, and only warriors after that has failed.”
A’Alhakoth nodded and turned to the trademaster.
“The tribe was made up almost entirely of human women who had escaped a legalized bondage on their homeworld, Elder,” she explained in Anndaing. “The other craft contain farms and factories that supply the tribe, while SeekerStar guards them. In the recent past, the distant Sept Empire chased us deep into Free Worlds space and attacked us there. The Commander is seeking new lands where the tribe can live and trade in peace. I joined her at Tavle Jocia. Such was my knowledge of the galactic interior, as seen from the Free Worlds, that she chose to explore in this direction.”
“Why do they pursue the woman?” he asked.
Daniel leaned forward to get the man’s attention now.
“She threatens their male-patriarchal social structure by escaping their predation,” he said carefully, working his way into words she didn’t think she had taught him. Perhaps once of his ghosts had come to the fore now? “They would make an example of the Commander by breaking the Mbaysey, lest other groups think to escape similarly. Additionally, other powers out there have taken notice of the Tribal Squadron and seek it. Thus we must be armed and vigilant at all times.”
“Humans and who else?” the Elder asked, his eyes narrowing in a most-human manner.
A’Alhakoth’s pupils were not round, so she would have just slitted them horizontally instead. But they were all well-met alien travelers here.
“They call themselves the Ishtan,” Daniel said simply. “This area was once devastated by an entity named Urid-Varg. They think I am his successor and pursue me.”
“You?”
A’Alhakoth twitched almost exactly in tune with Erin as the guard, Alten, flinched.
Fortunately, nobody drew a weapon. She still expected Daniel to shoot first.
Or whatever it was he did.
“We encountered Urid-Varg at the edge of human space,” Daniel explained with pain and anger in his voice. “And killed him.”
A’Alhakoth had never seen an Anndaing express shock physically. The whole of the hammer flexed forward. Not more than half a centimeter, but she didn’t realize that it could move at all. The eyes bugged out sideways in a most human, or Kaniea, manner.
His flesh even paled a little, but that was all of his scales flexing outward from the skin underneath.
“How?” the Elder gasped.
“That is not a story the Commander is prepared to share with you at the present time,” Daniel said, pausing to translate everything into Spacer for Kathra and Erin to nod. “But the being is no more. I did inherit his vessel, the Star Turtle in which he traveled, but it was subsequently ambushed by a battleship of the Sept Empire and lost into a star’s core.”
The Elder paused, no doubt thrown off center by the revelation. But he also needed to know that these humans were far more dangerous than they appeared, even as they sought trade instead of conquest themselves.
Kathra had explained to everyone the ethics of the situation, and the need for certain information to be shared, so that the Anndaing and their own allies understood that the Sept might turn this direction.
A’Alhakoth wasn’t sure if the Ovanii were more dangerous than the Sept, but the Anndaing had fought the former, driving them either off into the darkness, or breaking them so completely that nobody had heard of them in centuries.
The trademasters could also become warriors, if it was required of them.
“So you bring your troubles to Anndaing space?” the Elder asked, turning to face Kathra now.
A’Alhakoth translated now.
“No,” Kathra’s
response went. “Our troubles drive us from human space, but we are not bound to any planet, so we will trade with any species we encounter. It is the Commander’s intent that you understand what human politics might yet come to your space.”
The trademaster studied the woman carefully. He rotated his hammer and eyes to take them all in. Alten had not relaxed one iota, but he also refrained from reacting now, aware how delicate things had grown between the two leaders.
One trademaster could not stop the Tribal Squadron. Nor could one voyager.
But they could make the path easier or harder by their words later, being the first to encounter the humans.
Both Kathra and Miray seemed to understand that.
“What trade do you bring?” he finally asked after a moment.
A’Alhakoth remembered to breathe. She translated the question for Kathra, also explaining as she did that such was the traditional greeting between merchants.
“My squadron is largely self-sufficient in vegetables and fruits,” Kathra said. “We mine asteroids, comets, and planetary giants for most things that we need, delivering bar stock, sheet metal, and exotic, mostly organic materials to TradeStations, in exchante for meats of herbivores, and advanced electronics that we cannot produce ourselves. We will seek to trade such with whatever worlds we encounter as we continue on this path towards the galactic interior.”
“And your warriors?” Miray asked.
“Have you managed such a just and perfect society that piracy is completely unknown, Trademaster?” she smiled. “Koni Swift appears armed.”
Anndaing laughter was sharper than a human’s but similar enough to need no translation.
“Indeed, Commander,” he acknowledged with a seated, mirthful bow. “We are merchants who occasionally sail into harm’s way. Thus the guns. But your electronics will be radically different than ours. Similarly, I am amazed at your lack of gravplates, spinning the ship instead. It is highly inefficient.”
“We have always been a poor tribe, Trademaster,” she replied. “Human technology is more advanced than the Anndaing in some ways, and starkly primitive in others.”
