by K A Carter
“This is a matter of Lanx diplomacy Thane Zhal and doesn’t require your presence.” Thoram replied. The two exchanged thoroughly hard glances as Zhal took a seat.
“Back to the matters at hand.” Vrewulf said interrupting the tension.
∆∆∆
Back at the compound, the other marines were drinking from thermoses that were most likely bootleg alcohol they smuggled in off the Venture. One of them signaled him to join them in the common room. She waved a muscular hand. As he walked across the main room. He ignored the welcome and was greeted by Rhion. Nario looked back at them with a brail smile. Rhion had relinquished his usual uniform and stood wearing the usual marine pants with a white mesh shirt. Ramen in his hand, he paid no attention to the drops on the floor as he guzzled up the noodles.
Rhion and Nario were close in age, and it was only by chance that had been recruited around the same time. Rhion had a bloody past as he would call it. The both of them drew well to each other, being near polar opposites. Nario sighed while patting him on the shoulder. “It’s going to be a while before we get back to Mars,” he said.
Rhion shrugged at it and gulped down another portion. “I knew it, the bastards aren’t budging on an agreement,” said Rhion. It was true in layman’s terms.
“I think I might need your help with this,” said Nario. Rhion smiled with food in his mouth. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said sarcastically.
The next morning Nario had a received transmission waiting for him on his hand terminal. He transferred it to a larger screen in his room and read the data file. Before the message displayed, a notification reminding him of its encryption and top-secret classification popped up.
Ambassador Dios-Lobin, this is an encrypted message from Admiral Mitchell Garrell of the Cooperative Planet Federation.
We’ve received a direct invitation of diplomatic communication with an unknown species. classification is not yet known. Orders are to continue and conclude diplomatic relations within the Lanx. Upon an agreement, you will assume the command of new directives and lead the federal envoy. The CPF Gresham is on route to the Lanx System. Further mission objectives will be determined upon rendezvous.
Admiral Mitchell Garrell.
The message being encrypted was the first thing Nario noticed. Being the seasoned veteran that he was, he knew it meant that the federation didn’t want the Lanx, specifically Thoram, to know about it. He stayed in his room the rest of the night, mulling over the issue. It worried Nario; at what cost would it be? Alliances. It didn’t work even in his home system. But if it satisfied both his commanding officers and members of the other sides, he couldn’t really argue. A pleasant sound came from his door on the far side of the room. “It’s Corrinne, let me in” said the fruity voice. Nario ambled over to it, tapping a pad next to it that slowly revealed the marine that had been waiving at him before. Her hair wafted behind arched shoulders and she clutched a thermos in her left hand. Nario stepped aside the doors letting her pass by. She took a seat on his bed and threw a pleasant smile his way. Nario joined her sitting farther from her than he normally did. “Listen, things are getting complicated,” said Nario, placing a meaty palm on her lower thigh. “I think I just need a bit of distance. Things are getting more entrenched. It’s not like how we had it back aboard the Celestial.”
She cupped the thermos in both hands. “I’m not trying to make things difficult, if you need help with something I’d like to be there,” she said, smiling even harder. Nario couldn’t help but to smile back and ran through things to say in his mind that left seconds of silence. “They need me to leave already. First things first, we need to get a verbal commitment with the Republic.”
“Seems easy enough”, said Corrinne. “I think you should use your status. Have you forgotten you are the appointee of the entire Federation to oversee alien diplomacy? You have some authority here.”
Corrinne’s words weren’t a lie. Nario’s thoughts churned with an idea. Demanding such things from the Lanx however, seemed much more imaginative than actually possible.
∆∆∆
It was midday. Nario received a subspace message that the Gresham had arrived awaiting further orders. Despite an obligation to finish things up, he didn’t bother to meet with Thoram in person. The night prior he had sent a terminal message to him and explained that he had a sudden duty to fulfill. He asked that he “make it happen”, leaving himself an astonishing amount of room for failure. He had only just got the reply while boarding the skyrift shuttle back up. He whipped out a hand terminal from his duffle. It was a voice message, likely sent to thoroughly convey Thoram’s position on the matter. Nario clicked play only to hear a pause and Thoram’s voice. “We have much to discuss Ambassador. The committee will move forward with the Alliance agreement.” Nario wasn’t surprised that Thoram was going along with forcing the other members to continue deliberating. He had relief on his face but knew leaving Rhion to attend to matters he would otherwise handle, would cause issues for Thoram.
The marines had split up the squad by orders, the majority of them remaining on Brios with Rhion. To no surprise to Nario, Corrinne was there. She had likely swayed the squad leader to bring her along accompanying him to the Gresham. She sat adjacent to him only a few seats over. Nario didn’t normally bring emotional baggage everywhere he went. The unfortunate truth; he liked his inter-military relationships a bit too much.
Nario was greeted by a dark skin man with a soft face, a captain’s cap sat on a full head of hair. Youngish, thought Nario. The two shook hands like old friends, although it was the first time ever meeting.
“It’s a pleasure to have you on the Gresham Ambassador, Captain Idris Bay. We will be rendezvousing with the rest of the envoy in approximately six hours G.S.T.”
“The pleasure is all mine Captain” said Nario.
Nario was a soldier at his roots. Now he played the role of some sort of politician. It stretched him too thin. He wouldn’t have let anyone notice it; none except Corrinne whom had kept her distance since boarding the Gresham. No sneaky meet ups this time around. Nario knew that his actions were subject to scrutiny at all times. The thought still crossed his mind to page her room. He resisted the urge.
The envoy was a wide range of federation ships. In the distance, the bridge caught a nice picturesque view of the Magellan Veil that slithered in a rainbow of red, green, and indigo. Drone ships rested at the front of the group. The silvery stripes flowed along the navy blue outer shells. A new place awaited. Nario was curious about it but battled his exhaustion now. This was the longest he had gone without sleeping consistently. There was was too much to think about.
“What’s the destination?” Nario said, his voice echoing behind Captain Bay.
“Signal the envoy for Warp,” said Captain Bay. He paused for a solid second.
“Coordinates locked in Captain,” the helmsman popped his head out from a terminal.
Bay turned his head “We’ll know soon enough, ambassador.”
Chapter 7: Jericho
Moranthian air was thicker than what Jericho was used to. Exposure to it had no ulterior effects. It wasn’t the Moranthian home planet. Orna was a Moranthian colony that sat on the edge of their space. The landscape was well groomed. Buildings and walkways architected to smooth aesthetically pleasing natural surroundings. Dark green pastures gave an appealing contrast. It was all quintessential empire lure. Likely what brought so many companies to the region of space where they could prosper further without the eye of the federation watching.
Jericho took a walkway that went under an elevated bridge toward a building nearby. Mellor and Anda followed him.
“What are we doing here exactly?” said Mellor, gripping a black satchel against his chest like it was precious cargo.
“Waiting for orders I guess, so just enjoy that fact Volland isn’t up our asses at every turn” replied Jericho.
“Well he won’t be happy when Zen reports that we went out without her.�
�� Mellor added.
“We don’t answer to Zen,” said Anda.
“Tell her that.”
The three entered a fancy building. The décor resembled a much more human oriented style. Paintings and modern sculptures that accented surprisingly real looking marble floors. There were only a dozen people scattered around in the lobby. A receptionist desk in the middle of the large room. “How can I help you?” said the receptionist. Behind her a bronze seal hung on the dark marble pillar the desk was connected to. It was a dragon insignia. “Welcome to the Sithel, Orna branch of the Northbreak Collective Corporation. How may I help you?” the receptionist said. A droid next to her sat motionless.
“I am a part of a freelance group, we’d like to register with the company,” said Jericho. Mellor stood quiet. Anda scanning the room.
“Okay, absolutely. We’ll have the transponder receipt sent to your secretary. Thank you for your partnership with Northbreak. I’m sorry sir you were saying?” she gazed at them with attentiveness.
Confused, Jericho paused. “Are you talking to me now?” he said with a slightly morose tone.
“Yes sir,” she replied.
“I would like to register with the Northbreak company. I’m a freelancer.”
“Absolutely. None of the officials are in at the moment, but I can book you an appointment if you’d like.” She smiled, but it looked artificial to him.
Jericho turned his attention to Anda, and the two locked glances. Only for a millisecond and he turned back to the receptionist. “We’ll take the earliest you have.”
It was difficult to tell whether this was the right move. Corporations were hard to deal with if you weren’t some sort of wealthy entrepreneur. Still, Jericho knew the only way to stay under the radar was to become associated with one in some way. Otherwise, it was certain that Moranthians would take notice. His best was to sign as a freelancer so that there was purpose in them being there. Volland had wanted intel, but he didn’t say how.
The receptionist, keeping her smile, nodded and keyed in entries on the screen in front of her. “I have tomorrow afternoon, 1:00 G.S.T.” Jericho nodded with small grin that he unintentionally gave. The three turned back towards the entrance, strutting out with a noticeable haste. Out of the corner of his eye Jericho caught Mellor looking back at the receptionist. He would’ve rather him keep his eyes focused in front of them. It was too foreign to Mellor, his nervousness almost always getting the better of him. He clinched at his satchel again. For the life of him, Jericho couldn’t remember what was in it. Pictures from his past? Things he held dear he wouldn’t dare leave around his cabin. Or something he didn’t want anyone to know he was in possession of. It was likely filled with notes and scribbles that gathered along his path of self-taught diagnosis. It seemed plausible to assume. Whatever it was, Jericho felt it important to give everyone some spec of privacy.
The silence was that came with everyone working at their stations was only momentary. trying to piece together their new home. Or at least what was hopefully to be a new home. Jericho had a bad feeling about their situation. It’s outcome depending on how things went down on the surface. And that those things could easily go sour. Three marines that paraded themselves around the galley and every now and then would stop by the cockpit and engineering to observe, gave him all the more reason to think that the days on the new ship were numbered. Aside from a few arguments here and there they kept to themselves. Sleeping in the secondary bunks at the bottom level.
Zen was cooperative to a degree, but often butted her two sense in on Scud and Gideons daily operations. And the idea of having a person so young, Keon, scurrying around the ship’s cabin made her noticeably distraught.
Jericho stepped into the engineering deck. Gideon sat at a console perched just in front of the warp core. It was a lighter in color this time around. The console in front of him was a series of indistinguishable information slowly scrolling down.
“Everything shapely?” asked Jericho.
“It’s quite amazing actually,” said Gideon. “From what I’ve examined in engineering specs, this ship is manufactured to its optimal efficiency. It’s no doubt a corporate prototype. Long range travel I think.”
“We need tags if we’re going to blend in. Some that will last this time. Especially once we get away from Volland.”
“Think that will happen?”
“I don’t plan on letting it get to the point where he can decide for us,” Jericho gave a serious look.
Gideon shrugged his eyebrows, “Cap, the likelihood of getting tags on this planet are pretty slum.”
The words rattled in his head. Like being stuck between jumping off a cliff and fighting ridiculous odds on a battlefield. Jericho’s expression was a ‘get it done’ one. “But, I’ll look into some options” he added.
The captain’s cabin was rather snug. A nice-looking cot lied on the adjacent side of a workstation. The terminal there was flickering with a notification; it was the only message in the inbox. It was a follow-up email about a date and time scheduled at Northbreak. He opened it, the usual corporate etiquette ever-present in its language. It immediately annoyed him. Jericho hadn’t cared much for corporations, but he didn’t hate them inherently. After all, he had grown up in a Titan city funded by the largest of them. It was hard for him back then, but many like him had made a home of working the tiers of the corporate hierarchy. All the way down to the plebian groups that populated the poorer sectors.
Despite the fact that he would’ve salvaged under either one’s banner, he wouldn’t have been in the predicament that he was in now had it not been for their jobs. It was too late to look at back in hindsight. There were mainly three corporations that took full advantage of an expansion after the breakthrough of communication was established so long ago. Almost four decades to be exact. Jericho was just a little baby around the time it happened. Now a middle-aged adult at forty-two, he lacked the sympathy for the federation. Corporations rivaled them at every facet of intergalactic relations and more importantly military power. Northbreak, Orcus, Kobayashi-Nikitin; the three were as unpredictable as they were technologically advanced.
Jericho sat on the cot, making an indention in the fluffy mat that rested between covers and a hard-matte surface. He perched a bootless foot on the side and grabbed a datapad from off the wall. In all the hysteria, he hadn’t caught up on what else was going on in the galaxy. As he waved a thumb at the top right corner of the tablet, a news feed appeared. Galactic Net, or G-Net as most civilians would call it. It was the only way to get information in the void. The federation was often biased and typically only featured information that catered to those who followed the CPF blindly and loyally.
Jericho waved the thumb a second time, and it brought up a cycle of info thumbnails. It had seemed that Freya had already gotten to work on installing some software. It enabled some outer channels; alien and corporate news. The first thumbnail was certainly an alien news network. It was almost pointless for Jericho to try to watch it. Without the convenient implants that most humans had obtained, it was like listening to gibberish about gibberish. Most alien dialects he had heard were beyond phonetic. Maybe he could pick up some of the things by the visuals that accompanied the news but that would be difficult on its own.
A small pinging noise came from the cabin door. He expected it to be Anda. She was less giddy to see him alone than she usually was. Underneath an expert marksman exterior, she was a more or less love-struck girl. She leaned up against the wall just in front of Jericho’s bed. “I’m going with you to that appointment,” she stated.
The statement drew his attention away for a moment. “We’re not arguing over this, there is no point in you showing up there with me. It’s not like anything is going to happen” his tone became softer with each word. To Anda, it was protecting the captain. Protect who you love. Jericho interpreted it as Anda overthinking the circumstances, no different than what she had done in the past. In this case, she wasn’t far
off from doing so.
Zen was obnoxious to say the least. The crew said so on multiple occasions. But she wasn’t as overbearing as they had previously anticipated. Jericho hadn’t even spoken to Captain Volland since they/d departed down to the surface. It did worry him. It wasn’t as if the Volland had some alternative priority aside from monitoring the events on Orna; or did he. Being the smart man that he was, only a moment after, he buckled. “Fine, you can come with, but how about leaving the heavy weapons behind. These are dangerous people”, he said sighing. Anda let of a pleasant smirk. “Consider it done cap”
Later, when night fell on Orna. Jericho gazed outside the observation window of his cabin. Zen entered, ignoring the courtesy of using the door signal.
“You are registering with a corporation?” she started. “May I remind you the importance of keeping a low profile and not drawing the attention of Moranthian authorities.”
“We aren’t going to last much longer planet-side, if we don’t. And considering that this is a prototype ship, seemed like a good idea at the time.” By now Jericho was standing, the tablet still gripped in his left hand.
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“Not like a really have a choice”, Jericho responded. “For the time being, I’m tied to your hip.”
Zen’s presence reminded Jericho, that the federation was very much so, breathing down his neck. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to deal with a fit of stress. It made him uneasy talking to Zen, it was like speaking to a shadow of Volland. Only Zen appeared to like the idea of commanding. Even when it wasn’t her place to. Either way, her qualities got her to where she was. A commander on a science vessel. She was often robotic. If it weren’t for her obsessive-compulsivity, she was as good as one. She nodded and slowly stepped back towards the door, “Oh, before you go!” said Jericho, raising his voice as if it was a matter of importance. She only turned her head, still facing the exit. “Do me a favor, keep your marines in check. I don’t want any more arguments,”
