“I’m not sure that’s a wise course, Admiral. The Dalmin are expert alchemists. With gunpowder, they may be able to compound it, or expand it, or morph it into something deadlier. Hi-guns might seem aggressive, but it’s better than the alternative.”
She made a musing noise. “Perhaps you’re right on that one. Either way, I’ll send over a preliminary request to the senate.”
“The Dalmin want to meet on Feiwei at 2200 tomorrow. Will you have an answer for me by then?”
“Yes. I will make sure the proposal is seen to promptly. Is there anything else to add, Captain?”
“No, Admiral.”
With that, she signed off.
Gin was on his feet in a heartbeat. “What’s that mean? Civil war?”
Lian grimaced. “It means the Dalmin are fighting each other.”
“What? Why?”
“Conflicting viewpoints. Some want to make peace, others want to continue their ways of conquest.”
“Which are we supporting?”
The fact Gin asked that question showed how dubious Federation’s motives were. Still, this course of action would put an end to most of the killing. “We support those who call for peace.”
“And peace will come from giving them weapons?”
“It seems counterintuitive, I know. But if part of the race wants to annihilate humanity, we need to side with the others. Giving them hi-guns will save human lives.”
“Maybe,” Gin allowed, but he didn’t look convinced.
“Do you mind if we end our session here? I have to get the crew—and our squad of Valor soldiers—ready for the meeting.”
“Sure, Lian. I’ll head down to my room.”
Lian reached out and gripped one of Gin’s tails. “You can stay here, in my room. I’ll be back later and maybe we can eat together.”
“I’d like that.”
Lian kissed him, then released Gin’s hair. “I’ll try to hurry back, but I don’t know how long this will take.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be occupied with the binder.”
Lian laughed, then left the room. This was all happening too fast. And he wasn’t sure if he meant things with Gin or things with the Dalmin.
Chapter 22
GIN HUMMED as he gazed up at the series of wires. The Bethany’s engines were a complex mess of connectors. Much like the human body. Those wires let energy flow out to the ship, like arteries. The others were the veins, bringing dark matter from the holding tanks and into the engines. Simple and effective. Still, Gin marveled at the beauty.
“Everything’s holding up here,” he reported to Tesseen. “How about up there?”
“Engines are optimal.”
“Good.” Gin pulled his head out of the console and climbed off his back. He wiped his hands on his pants as he stood. Tesseen handed him a rag and he accepted it with a thanks.
“Gin?” Lian’s voice suddenly said over his call badge.
Struggling to keep the idiotic grin off his face, Gin tapped the button. “Go ahead, Captain.”
“The commander and I are heading down to Feiwei. Will you meet us on Base to power up our pod?”
“I’ll be right there.”
He hit the button again, ending the connection. It’d only been a few hours since he’d woken beside Lian in bed, but his heart still craved the captain’s presence. He told Tesseen and Betha he’d be right back, then he headed up the ladder. At the bridge, he took the elevator down one level to Base. Lian and Trish were already there.
“Lian,” he greeted with a smile. “Commander.”
“Hi, Gin,” Trish said, returning his grin.
“You need help getting a pod started?”
Trish rolled her eyes. “No. Lian wanted to say goodbye.” She went to the wall and opened the door to the nearest pod. “I’ll get it started. You have two minutes.”
“Thanks, Trish,” Lian said, then advanced on Gin.
Their lips met briefly, then Lian pulled back. “I’m surprised you aren’t insisting on tagging along for this trip.”
Gin shook his head emphatically. “I have no desire to meet with Dalmin.”
“I hope you’re not going to spout that same drivel from before, about them being barbaric ruffians.”
“No, not that. The ones you’re meeting with, they’re like royalty, right?” Gin shivered. “I don’t think I could stomach meeting someone so important.”
Lian laughed softly and returned his lips to Gin’s. “You don’t think I’m important?” he asked in between kisses.
Gin closed his eyes against the onslaught. “Get over yourself,” he said when Lian stilled. “You’re not the president of KedFed.”
Lian guffawed. Loudly. The grin that curved his lips was so authentic, so beautiful.
Gin had to clamp his lips together to keep emotional words from spilling out. “Make sure you bring me a souvenir,” Gin said instead, giving Lian his best cheeky smile.
“After a comment like that?” Then he was closing the distance between them, again.
When they separated, Gin tilted his head to the side. “Why aren’t you landing the Bethany on Feiwei? That’s gotta be easier than taking one of the pods.”
A visible shudder ran through Lian’s body. “And risk the entire crew?”
“Feiwei is neutral. No one’s going to attack you there.”
Lian shook his head. “And just a few weeks ago no one attacked colony ships. Better to prepare for the worst instead of being surprised by the unexpected.”
Gin leaned forward and touched his forehead to Lian’s. He loved the heat the captain exuded. Sleeping beside him was comforting and comfortable and Gin was growing accustomed to Lian’s presence. He pressed his lips against the captain’s.
Right on cue, Trish called, “Let’s go, Lian.”
“I’m coming,” Lian called back.
“From a kiss? I’m better than I thought.” Gin sobered, and he brushed at the high collar of Lian’s jacket. “Be careful down there, okay?”
Lian took Gin’s hands in his own. “I always am. Plus, I’ve got Trish to watch my back.”
One more kiss and Lian was pulling away. He climbed into the pod.
Gin walked forward and peered inside, having only seen what an escape pod looked like in the Bethany’s diagrams. It was sizable, large enough to hold ten to twelve crew members. Trish sat in the chair in front of the controls, but Lian nudged her out of the way. She vacated the seat and took one along the wall. She gave Gin a wave, then hit a button that closed the door.
Gin rested his palm along the cool metal. He felt vibrations from the pod as it detached from the Bethany.
Lian knew what he was doing. It was pointless to worry. Besides, Gin had other things to occupy his mind. He started back toward the elevator. He rode it up to the bridge, his mind unable to banish the image of Lian’s green eyes.
Until the doors opened and a hi-gun was pointed in his face.
He squeaked and jumped backward, but the gun followed his trajectory. He tore his gaze away from the muzzle and looked at the one wielding it.
“Candi?” he asked, his voice pitched high. “What are you doing?”
Her hands shook, but the gun remained pointed at him. “Ginnovi Oshwald, I’m placing you under arrest for identity fraud and attempted terrorism.”
“What? Candi, I’m not a terrorist!”
“T-turn around and put your hands on your head.”
Gin complied. He didn’t doubt Candi would shoot him in a heartbeat. Of course, things looked bad on paper. She didn’t know the true facts about his circumstances. He placed his hands atop his hair and they were immediately shackled with metal cuffs. Glancing over his shoulder, Gin saw Sousuke stepping back. Candi’s gun still pointed at him.
“The captain trusts me,” Gin said. “He knows I’m not a danger to the crew.”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Sousuke warned.
“We’re taking the prisoner to the brig,” Candi said.
“Spar, you have command over the bridge until I return.”
“Candi,” Gin tried again.
She approached him and nudged him with the tip of her gun. “Quiet.”
He nodded and fell silent. It would do no good. Strange, though, that this happened the second Lian left the ship.
Chapter 23
LIAN HALF glanced over his shoulder as he pulled the pod out of the Bethany’s holding bay. He wasn’t sure if he wanted another look at Gin, or the Bethany herself. Either way, the metal walls prevented him from viewing anything.
For once, Trish remained silent as they navigated the space around Feiwei’s atmosphere. Lian’d expected her to question; she never let an opportunity to pry pass her over.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“You’re oddly quiet. Something bothering you?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. This just… feels itchy.”
“With the Dalmin? I think we can trust First Capillto.”
“We don’t know all the information yet.”
“We’ve got good bargaining chips going into this meeting, Trish. I don’t think they’ll refuse our offer. We’ll get everything we’ve wanted.”
“But arming them to fight a civil war? Seems like it’s overstepping our bounds.”
“The First signed that proclamation disowning the rebel beshwa. It’s legal and binding. To help the First and his remaining beshwa is the right thing to do. They’re in alignment with our way of thinking, with Federation philosophy.”
“I’ll hold my worry in for now, Lian. But trust me when I say something isn’t right.”
“I’ve never doubted you. I’ll be mindful.”
Lian signaled to their scheduled coordinates and requested permission to land. It came immediately. He powered the pod’s thruster engine and entered Feiwei’s atmosphere. The planet was artificial, more a constructed base, but twice as large as Earth’s moon. It was one of several hundred neutral planets spaced throughout the connected systems. They were collectively maintained by the Galactic Coalition, though other languages labeled it slightly different. Earth belonged to the Coalition, and so did the Dalmin. Every known race had membership, though some took less initiative in keeping peace throughout their domain.
The pod descended through the atmosphere. Though synthetic, its gasses were similar to Earth’s, and it provided a lush, green landscape. The planet also had bodies of water, rivers and lakes that cut along the flora-covered surface. Dispersed among the splashes of blue and green were metal structures that reflected light from the system’s red star.
With the coordinates entered, the pod cruised to their designated meeting building. It only took a few moments to pass through the atmosphere and land easily atop the building’s flat roof. He killed the engine but waited for the roof’s hatch to drop their ship into the interior below them.
A loud whir sounded around them, and the green trees and sunlight vanished. The ship sank down momentarily and the cover closed overhead. The holding bay was lit by artificial lights, no different from LED fixtures in the Regulation building. The Coalition made the sharing of technology easier, but it did not give other races access to every bit of information. More so than a military, Lian firmly believed that knowledge equaled power.
Once the clank of metal ceased, Lian pressed the latch that opened the pod’s entrance. He got to his feet and so did Trish. She grabbed the briefcase with their paperwork, and they walked to the door side by side.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded and flipped a small, unnoticeable button at the top of her boot.
They exited the steps extending from the pod’s rear and headed around the craft toward the center of the room.
Within the chamber, it was bright but muggy. A long table sat at the direct middle, two dozen chairs surrounding it. On their side was a smaller table with five chairs. The same was reflected on the opposite, for the Dalmin. These facilities were hardwired with visual and audio recording equipment. The Coalition knew every aspect of every treaty that passed within these walls.
Lian felt confident in his professional relationship with First Capillto, so he led Trish to the center table, opting out of using the more formal settings on either side. They did not sit, that would be considered an insult to most humanoids, so they stood, though Trish put the briefcase atop the metal table and opened it up. Inside were the necessary papers sent over by Admiral Alejaro, a motion passed and signed by the Federation Senate, promising aid to the Dalmin against their rebels. It outlined specifics of how the Federation would help—and several ways they wouldn’t—but he felt it was a fair deal. The Dalmin shouldn’t hesitate to accept.
Trish kept her gaze constantly moving over the still room. As much as she thought him uptight, when in situations like this, with so many unknown variables, she was a million times worse. Her whole outfit was rigged with equipment that would help them if things went to shit. Lian didn’t foresee that happening, but he appreciated that his friend was ready just in case.
The metal roof suddenly vibrated and the Dalmin ship descended into the room. It shined with a bronzish light instead of the cool silver favored by most other races. The shape, too, was different. Lian’s pod was basic, simple, effective for surviving several days alone in space. The Dalmin’s was artistic, like it had been sculpted by a master’s hand. It was egg-shaped, but with intricate crevices and ridges giving the hull texture. Each etched detail proclaimed a battle won by the ship’s captain, or an accomplishment performed by its crew. From this distance, Lian couldn’t read the deeds written in the metal.
A side hatch opened and the Dalmin emerged. A thick, black collar hung around the neck of the one in the lead—that marked him as First Capillto, as did the bandage still wound around his eye. Four others followed. They wore loose-fitting robes in varying shades of red. They approached the center table, forming a V with the First in the lead. Once they aligned on the opposite side, they bowed in unison.
Lian and Trish mimicked the pose.
The Dalmin were not humanesque in appearance. Their skin was nearly translucent, showing sinew and muscles close to the surface. The little pigmentation their flesh held was a pale purple—besides Mimasho, who was a shade of pink. Their faces were long and pointed, eyes offset at the sides of their heads, the protruding notches similar to a hammerhead shark. Massive arms, nearly touching the ground, ended in monstrous hands. There were ten fingers positioned like a clamp, with five fingers across from the other five. No shoes peeked out from under the hems of their robes. Their feet were hooves, thick and durable for treading on their planet’s rocky and ore-filled surface.
First Capillto straightened. He was at least a foot and a half taller than Lian. “We are pleased you could join us, Captain Lian Hartford. I am Capillto Remarnio Pachilanto—the Alpha of the Pachilanto beshwa, and First among the Dalmin council.” He dipped his head again.
Lian followed suit. Using the Dalmin tongue he said, “I am Captain Lian Hartford, Order of Right, Third Class Captain of the Bethany.” He gestured to Trish. “To my right is Commander Trish Williams, my second.”
Trish bowed a hair lower than before. She was not as versed in speaking the Dalmin language as Lian—though her comprehension was excellent. Still, she said, “It is my honor to meet you, First.”
The First nodded. “Behind me I have the Alphas of the remaining four beshwa: Yinarro, Feltollio, Bonto, and Mimasho.”
The four lowered chins as the First said their names.
Lian locked eyes with each. “We are pleased to have you with us.” He turned back to First Capillto. “If you would allow, let us be seated.”
The First took a chair, and all the others followed. Lian positioned himself across from the First, and Trish took the seat to Lian’s right. They were vastly outnumbered, but Lian didn’t feel anxiety in that regard. Trish could easily handle anything the Dalmin could do.
“Before we start,” Li
an said solemnly, “please allow me to offer my condolences at this turn of events. We regard all life to be precious and it saddens us to see this happening among your people. As an officer within the Order of Right, I always hope there can be peaceful solutions to all problems; however, I also know that’s naive. Too idealistic. Sometimes peace can only come through force. That is why the Kedler Federation is offering these terms for an alliance with the Dalmin.”
Lian pulled out the signed document and slid it across the table. It had been translated into the Dalmin language, with a copy in Federation Standard below it. Lian had double-checked the accuracy and had been satisfied the wording held the spirit of their intent.
“If you agree to our terms, we will supply you with 10,000 hi-guns to arm yourselves. Though we cannot give you any additional troops at this point in time, there is the possibility of that in the future. For now, we firmly believe that having superior weapons will give you the much-needed advantage over the rebels.”
First Capillto’s eye notches rotated slightly, turning his gaze forward. He peered at the paper. Over his shoulder, Alpha Mimasho and Alpha Yinarro also read the document.
After a few moments, the First looked up. “The terms for this are quite steep.”
“This is unacceptable,” Mimasho said, her voice a tad higher pitched. “You will use our vulnerability to rape our lands, steal our resources, take our hard-earned knowledge.”
Lian didn’t cave before her anger—in fact, he anticipated this from her based on their earlier discussion. “These parameters are very similar to our initial intent. We came to you to seek your expertise with alchemy. However, we are offering more aid than initially required. Our increase in giving would mean an increase in receiving.”
Mimasho’s mouth curled into something similar to a sneer. “So, you benefit from our pain and suffering.”
Lian tilted his head. “And if the situation were reversed, Alpha Mimasho? Would the Dalmin offer their hand in support without thought of reward?”
Spark in the Stars Page 15
