by Gregg Vann
Maxal ignored Tien’s preemptive, and he thought rather presumptuous reproach, saying, “You have friends on Polit? Well color me surprised. The Iriq are openly hostile to your people.”
{I can’t blame them for that; I’d be no different in their position. The Iriq joined the alliance to fight off the Brenin invasion. And after their planetary defenses were left weakened by the war—with the remnants of their fleet still scattered across the galaxy, trying to make it back—the Udek repaid that cooperation by trying to forcibly annex the Iriq home world. Coming right on the heels of victory, it was an unanticipated, though unsurprising betrayal. But all of that’s irrelevant, because my friend isn’t Iriq, she’s Udek}
Maxal blew out a long breath. “Udek, eh? Well that certainly complicates things. That means she’ll be stationed at their forward command center. You should probably contact this woman before we arrive, so she can meet us somewhere else, out away from the facility. We wouldn’t be very welcome at an Udek military installation, especially under the hostile conditions on Polit. The base’s complement of commandos, not to mention the facility’s automated defense systems, would likely kill us without much fanfare, or a single second’s consideration.” Maxal’s expression turned serious. “We can’t go anywhere near that outpost, Tien—you know that. You’ll have to get her as far away from it as possible.”
{If she were amenable to my plan I might be able to do as you suggest, but she’s altogether oblivious to it. And even if she did know what I wanted from her, I doubt she’d cooperate. Not at first, anyway. We have an unfortunate history together, and that’s putting it mildly. We’ll have to abduct this woman and hold her until I can explain the situation. I expect she’ll fight us, violently, every step of the way. So it won’t be easy. But we have no other choice}
Maxal was incredulous. “You’re telling me we’re going to kidnap one of the Udek stationed at the base?”
{No. I’m telling you that we’re going to kidnap the base’s commanding officer}
Maxal sighed and then sagged down into his seat, crossing his upper arms. “I really have to start picking better jobs.”
{Look} Tien explained, {we need a high-ranking Udek officer if we’re going to Ko’ln. Your smuggler tricks won’t get us through the Interdiction Zone, and certainly not down to the planet’s surface. Every ship visiting Ko’ln is stopped in orbit—without exception—and physically searched and scanned. It will take an officer with some serious clout to clear the Zone with us hiding on board. But more than that, once we land we’ll need to gain entry to some of the most secure facilities on the planet, and I think she’ll prove useful there as well}
“Do you really think this officer is going to help you after you kidnap her? An Udek commander?” Maxal shook his head. “The fighting on Polit has been some very nasty business, Tien. And the Udek stationed there are viciously attacked by the locals, every time they leave the safety and security of their base. The Udek have carried out some damn hideous operations as well, including torture…and worse. My point is that I doubt there’s much decency left on that planet, on either side. So even if you were still in good stead with the Udek, and weren’t trying to take this woman against her will, I doubt she’d be inclined to help you—not without a direct order from Ko’ln. Face it, Tien, your people aren’t exactly known for their charitable dispositions. And after what you’re planning to do, she’ll be even more reluctant to give you what you want.”
{If I can get her off the base and away from the other Udek, I’m certain I can convince her to help us. I have something she wants, Maxal—something no one else can offer her. And if the information I’ve uncovered about the commander is true, she’ll be willing to assist us in exchange for it. Reluctantly maybe, but she will do it. She’ll help us with our mission to Ko’ln}
Maxal grinned. “And what if your information is false, and she isn’t the least bit interested in your offer?”
{Then she’ll probably try to kill me}
“Oh, this woman sounds absolutely delightful,” the Blenej said sarcastically.
{Not really. But she will prove useful, and that’s all I’m concerned with} Tien spun his chair to the side to face Maxal directly. {I need you to share with me everything you know about the conflict on Polit. Something tells me that your intel is not only more accurate than mine, but probably more recent as well. The Udek I understand, but I want to know more about the Iriq}
Maxal’s expression hardened instantly, and Tien caught a brief glimpse of the Blenej warrior within. Concealed behind the easy-going facade of a jovial cargo pilot was a man capable of violence when provoked, and Tien realized that he’d just touched the wafer-thin line separating the two personas.
“I won’t help you against the Iriq,” Maxal said sternly, “if that’s what you’re thinking. Mission, money…even my arm, be damned.”
{I’m not asking you to, Maxal. But it’s good to discover where your true loyalties lie. What I don’t understand though is why? There’s no close relationship between the Iriq and the Blenej—none that I’m aware of, anyway. Why such a strong interest in their internal affairs?}
“That is none of your business, Udek.”
{If it affects this mission, it is my business}
“It doesn’t. And you can stop asking me about it now, because that’s all the answer you’re going to get. You have your reasons for doing what you do, and I have mine. It’ll have to be enough that they overlap, for the time being.”
Tien wasn’t satisfied, not in the least. But he could tell from Maxal’s aggressive bearing that he’d get no further answers. Not without resorting to methods guaranteed to stifle the Blenej’s desire to cooperate afterward, and possibly leaving Maxal too injured to do so, even if he was willing. Tien didn’t believe the information Maxal was hiding was critical, and this was no time to indulge in idle curiosity—not at the expense of the mission. So he twisted his chair back around and turned his attention to the ship’s primary navigational display, finding that they’d reach the outermost perimeter of the Udek blockade in approximately twenty-three hours.
{Keep your secrets, Blenej; they’re unimportant. But putting aside your personal concerns, what’s the military situation on Polit?}
Maxal visibly relaxed, relieved that Tien wasn’t going to press the issue. Regardless of his strong convictions, Maxal understood full well that any physical confrontation between the two of them was unlikely to end in his favor. He didn’t know the strength or capabilities of the Bodhi-designed android body, but Maxal did know how lethal Special Corp operatives were. He rated his chances in a fight with Tien at right around zero. As tensions in the cockpit began to recede, the pilot’s good-natured demeanor returned—almost as quickly as it had vanished.
“The entire Udek presence on Polit is concentrated inside one, heavily guarded base. Everything is directed from there, and I mean everything—from the blockade of the Iriq system by Udek warships, to what limited planetary operations they’re able to conduct against the rebels. That base is the nexus of it all. But…”
{But what?}
“Well, it’s strange, Tien. The Udek haven’t received any reinforcements in months. And they’ve scaled back their ground activities to almost nothing, as if sequestering themselves on the base for the time being. I mean, sure, the planetary blockade remains nearly impenetrable, and the Udek fleet still controls the entire system. But it’s almost like they’ve given up planet-side, and are just waiting for the order to pull out.”
{That would never happen}
“I agree, if history is any judge. That’s why the lack of forceful, overt operations is so odd. The Udek don’t quit, ever. This pause in the occupation, whatever it is, is highly unusual for them. It doesn’t change the overall picture on Polit, though. The Iriq would have to defeat the Udek fleet to stop this annexation from eventually taking place. They know that. But despite how impossible the struggle seems, and it is impossible, they continue to fight on.”
{It sounds like suicide to me, but you seem to admire them}
“Yes, well…”
{I think I understand what’s happening. Since the war ended, the Udek have been pushing out across several different regions of the galaxy, taking advantage of the chaos left behind by the failed Brenin invasion. The truth is, they’re probably overextended. The Udek got greedy, and they took on too much, too quickly}
“Maybe,” Maxal replied. “Maybe… That certainly makes sense. Now don’t get me wrong, because I don’t feel sorry for them, not in the least. The Udek have earned every iota of suffering they’ve received for their actions. But the lack of logistical support or reinforcements has made Polit a very undesirable assignment—and the Udek soldiers’ lives on the planet a living hell. Predictably, they’ve chosen to take out their frustrations on the Iriq, with a brutality that exceeds even normal Udek standards. Er, no offense.”
{It’s impossible to offend me, Blenej}
Tien raised a hand to his chin in contemplation, briefly startled by the sound made when the two metal surfaces collided. Each hour that passed made it easier to forget that his consciousness now resided inside an android body, but only by a small degree.
{The more I understand this situation, the more convinced I become that I’m the reason our target was stationed on Polit. The Udek are punishing the commander because of her past dealings with me}
“Really?” Maxal said, his voice betraying mild surprise. “Then she will definitely be unhappy to see you.”
Maxal pivoted the swivel-mounted control screen toward himself and gazed down at the information scrolling across it. He checked the ship’s speed, engine performance, rate of fuel consumption, course—he even skimmed over the latest navigational hazard reports. Everything appeared normal, so Maxal pushed the screen away again.
“I should tell you that it’s not just the Udek, Tien. The Iriq have also adopted some gruesome fighting tactics. Both sides in this little pseudo-war they’re waging are responsible for remarkably heinous acts, things that might easily be construed as war crimes by outsiders. I know I’m confirming a bias here, but just remember that it was the Udek who brought this conflict to Polit, not the Iriq. And the blame for everything lies squarely at their feet.” Maxal shrugged. “Regardless of fault, things have gotten pretty damn harsh on the planet, and that’s the plain truth of it. We’re headed straight into the middle of a very ugly situation.”
{As I said before: we get in, and then right back out again. I have no desire to become involved in local squabbles. With proper planning and a modicum of luck, we should be able to grab the commander and leave before anyone realizes we were even on the planet. But no matter what the conditions on Polit, or how many difficulties we encounter when we arrive, our priority remains the same, getting to Ko’ln as quickly as possible}
“Yes!” Brother Ryll exclaimed. The monk’s voice rang out from behind Maxal’s chair, reminding them both that he was on the ship. “Tien is absolutely right. We must get to Ko’ln. That’s all that matters. The only thing that matters.” Brother Ryll had remained quiet during the journey, lost in whatever arcane thoughts monks normally indulged in. But he’d obviously been following the conversation between Maxal and Tien closely. “We must rescue Brother Dyson as soon as possible,” Ryll said. “The soul chamber he’s trapped in won’t last forever, and Buddha only knows what type of torment Miso is visiting on him—probably as we speak.”
The monk fell silent again as Tien glanced back at him, and the Udek watched uneasiness creep across the young man’s face. No, Tien realized, peering closer. It was more than that. Much more. Ryll was experiencing pure, unadulterated fear. He was driven by it. It’s what had motivated Brother Ryll to initiate this perilous mission in the first place, pushing him to trade the safety of his protected monastery for two of the most dangerous locations in the galaxy—the planets Polit, and Ko’ln. The monk wasn’t doing this for himself, Tien decided. If anything, personal motivations might have held him back, cowering in unconquerable dread. Ryll was afraid for his mentor, Brother Dyson—of what had befallen him. And it was that grave concern which granted the monk a special kind of courage.
One that very few people ever obtain.
He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, Tien thought. There’s far more to this monk than meets the eye. Miso must be a true psychopath to engender this type of reaction—to create this level of terror. Kiro Tien allowed himself an inward smile. It takes an exceptional monster to push a coward so far beyond fear that he embraces heroism. I can’t wait to meet him.
{We will rescue Brother Dyson} Tien assured the anxious monk, surprised by his own sincerity. {And don’t worry, I’m in just as much of a hurry as you are to see this thing finished} Tien turned his chair to face the rear of the ship, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees. {Now, let’s go over the weapons systems you’ve installed in this android before we arrive on Polit. I want to know everything there is, monk. Each capability, and all of the strengths and weaknesses}
“Of course,” Brother Ryll replied, placated for the time being. “But before I begin, I can adjust the speech processor to make you sound more organic, if you wish. The machine-speech is only a default.”
{Then do it} Tien told him.
Ryll stood up from his chair and cautiously tapped a spot on Tien’s upper-left torso; a small panel opened and swung off to the side. The monk reached inside with two fingers and made a few minute adjustments to the controls hidden within, and then Brother Ryll pushed the panel closed again. It sealed up seamlessly, the faint outline once again lost to the naked eye.
“It’s done,” Ryll said.
“So that’s…ah, I see. Yes, that is much better. Now, brief me on these weapons. Because sooner or later, I may need them.”
“May need them?” Maxal laughed. He turned his head and smiled broadly. “Oh, I can almost guarantee it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Blenej ambassador sat down stiffly in the proffered chair, watching patiently as Awi Stenth retreated back behind his large desk. Ambassador Hul reflected on how strange the situation was, and the weary diplomat decided to voice that observation.
“Chancellor Stenth. You must excuse my confusion, but why exactly have you asked me here? I would have preferred an explanation before I arrived, but your government refused to provide one. In fact, the functionary who contacted me at home gave no details whatsoever. And his tone, while respectful, was rather insistent. I have to say, it’s highly unusual for a consular representative to be summoned to a meeting with the Special Corp. And I’m not the least bit happy about it.”
“I do apologize,” Awi Stenth replied with an empty smile. “But the circumstances here are quite exceptional, and call for a fair amount of discretion, I’m afraid. I have a proposal that I’d like you to present to your government, one I think you’ll find very interesting.”
Stenth directed one of the waiting attendants to furnish Ambassador Hul with a drink, and then bade them both to leave the room. Hul tipped his oxygen mask up just long enough to take a swallow from the glass, and then placed it back on his face snugly.
“I see. And why are you telling me about this and not the Udek ambassador? Normally O’linth oversees all of your important interplanetary negotiations—in addition to sitting on the Council of Minsters. Has he been relieved of his duties? Surely I would have heard something if such a powerful man had been stripped of his station.”
Awi Stenth smiled once more, and Hul noted the complete lack of sincerity behind the gesture; it was nothing more than a meaningless affectation. No, not meaningless. It was a calculated and deliberate tool, meant to subtly influence the listener. It was also a method Ambassador Hul had employed himself on many, many occasions, and the nuanced attempt at manipulation left him feeling far less inclined to trust anything the Udek chancellor told him.
“No, no, of course not. Ambassador O’linth retains both positions, and remains highly esteemed
within government circles. He still masters the corridors of power in the same way he always has. But let’s just say that, given his current political leanings, O’linth might be reluctant to participate in this particular discussion. He’s always held a very conservative outlook on galactic affairs, and O’linth feels we’re expanding too rapidly into the power voids created by the Brenin War. I believe the good ambassador would consider this gambit too aggressive as well, so I simply didn’t invite him. Not at this stage. We’re on friendly terms, of course, but we certainly don’t see eye to eye on everything. In any event, you needn’t worry, I imagine that Ambassador O’linth is probably nestled in his bed right now, sleeping as we speak.”
Hul frowned. “I don’t doubt it, Chancellor Stenth. The hour is late. And my people share O’linth’s concerns about unchecked Udek expansion, as do many other races. That’s another reason I have serious reservations about this secretive meeting.”
“The Udek haven’t moved against any Blenej interests,” Stenth replied, somewhat defensively. “In truth, we’ve gone nowhere near your territories.”
“No, you haven’t. Not yet. But we are highly skeptical of your long-term goals.”
“Then permit me to put your mind at ease,” Awi Stenth said. “This meeting is actually to your benefit, as you will soon see.” He made a beckoning gesture with his hand and Miso stepped out from the shadows. He’d been hiding off in one corner of the office, observing the conversation. Miso dropped the hood of his black robe—the simple garment keeping his metallic body hidden from view—and Hul’s eyes shot open wide.
The ambassador sat up straighter in his chair, stunned at the appearance of the unexpected interloper. “What the hell are you?” Hul exclaimed.
