Messinants (Pyreans Book 2)

by S. H. Jucha

  Various expressions of grins, smiles, and smirks bloomed on faces, and Harbour could sense the emotional lift in their minds. She glanced at Jessie, who tipped his head to her.

  The meeting disbanded after Harbour informed the group that she would coordinate the next meeting via a conference call. “I suggest that Major Finian be my single point of contact. He’s the most exposed, at this point, and can shield everyone aboard the JOS. He’ll arrange a place where all of you can communicate with us for the call,” Harbour said, indicating Jessie and herself.

  As the group departed, Jessie whispered to Liam, “I’ve a small cabin that I use for my downtime. I’ll code the entry lock for you. Use the cabin for the conference call.”

  Liam nodded and thanked Jessie.

  “Headed to your ship?” Harbour asked Jessie, as they exited the Miner’s Pit. When he said yes, she waved at her spacers and replied, “Care to join my retinue?”

  “I’d be delighted, Captain,” Jessie replied gallantly.

  “Form up, you excuse for spacers,” Dingles shouted.

  “Latched on,” the spacers replied in unison and with gusto.

  The closest crew members stepped aside for Harbour and Jessie to occupy a place in the middle, then the group headed off with purpose.

  “You travel in intimidating style, Captain,” Jessie commented, noticing that the spacers who surrounded them weren’t wearing downtime apparel, except for headgear. It gave the appearance that they were on duty, and their duty was protecting their captain.

  “I’m hoping this is a one-time thing,” Harbour replied quietly.

  “After everything that’s transpired in the past year, my thought is that you’d better get used to this,” Jessie replied. “I’ve rarely seen spacers behave like this. I’m reminded of Captain Erring’s comment of what her crew would do if someone made a foolish move against Rules.”

  “Who knew empaths could be so beloved?” Harbour remarked. She laughed, when she said it, but Jessie thought there was an underlying meaning.

  -14-

  Return to Gasnar

  Tacticnok thought that having convinced her father, Rictook, to let her lead the team back to Gasnar meant the greatest hurdle was over. Instead, the ruler had said that the conditions under which she returned must be approved by his advisors. For that pronouncement, she faced a never-ending stream of arguments with the masters over the steps that should be taken. Her team sat quietly, as the discussion unfolded.

  “Your Highness, as a financial advisor, you know that I never recommend war or aggression, as my first choice,” Master Pickcit said. “Trade … trade has benefits, where war costs lives and funds, robbing us of the opportunity for growth. In this case, I don’t see the value of returning to Gasnar and engaging in dialog with these creatures … your pardon … these aliens. The array that Jaktook and Master Tiknock identified at the Gasnarian moon is found in Jatouche ancient history. In all humility, Your Highness, I ask: What’s the value in developing a relationship with these aliens, while they’re so primitive?”

  “I can’t disagree with your analysis, Master Pickcit,” Tacticnok replied evenly. “But the purpose of our visit isn’t for economic reasons. It’s to ensure that a young race, who has access to one of our Q-gates, becomes a good neighbor and a supporting member of the alliance, no matter how long it takes them to develop their technology.”

  “There is, perhaps, a more important reason for going,” Master Tiknock said. He’d been quiet for much of the meeting. During the many days since Tacticnok’s visit to Gasnar, he’d had several discussions with Jaktook, the dome senior administrator. The young Jatouche fascinated him. He exhibited the curiosity and thinking of a master, but not one who was focused on a single discipline.

  “Enlighten us, Master Tiknock,” Tacticnok encouraged.

  “Remember, it was our people who disrupted Gasnar,” Tiknock continued. “Our weapon delivered enough energy into the planet’s surface layer to ensure that the release of it would require an abundance of annuals. Surely, it must be our responsibility to determine that the planet has become habitable, once again. If that isn’t the case, we should consider what might be done to ease the planet’s condition.”

  “To what purpose?” Master Roknick asked. As the advisor expressing negative ideas, the master strategist was proving to be the worst of the lot, and Tacticnok was slowly losing her temper with him.

  “It is a tenet of the alliance that its members ensure that young races receive the benefit of our technology if catastrophe threatens their development. Life in the universe is precious and must be protected, if at all possible,” Tiknock replied. “We put the prosperity of this species at risk by what we did at Gasnar.”

  “We didn’t attack the Gasnarians; they attacked us. We owe them nothing,” Roknick declared.

  “We’re not speaking about Gasnarians, Master Roknick,” Tiknock pointed out.

  “I still say we owe these aliens nothing,” Roknick grumped. “The Messinants didn’t build the Gasnar gate for them. They’re interlopers. If we leave them alone, they’ll move on to a more habitable planet.”

  “What if they can’t, Master Roknick?” Jaktook asked.

  “Can’t what?” Roknick demanded.

  “We acknowledge that this race has inferior technology, and we wonder why the Messinants didn’t build them a gate. We have many questions about them and few answers,” Jaktook replied. “Why do we assume they have choices? What if their appearance at Gasnar was a desperate action on the part of their species to survive? In short, what if they arrived at Gasnar and are trying to make the best of it because they can’t move on?”

  “Our young friend’s reasoning is valid,” Tiknock acknowledged. “And it underlines my point. We damaged the planet that these aliens might be desperately clinging to and facing no further options. The alliance would regard their situation as desperate and requiring our help, would it not?”

  “It would, Master Tiknock,” Tacticnok acknowledged. “And, advisors, imagine if the circumstances of these aliens became known to the alliance, which it eventually will. And, imagine if it also became known that we refused to help, especially when it was noted that we created the hardship for them. Yes, we were attacked, Master Roknick,” Tacticnok said, holding up an imperial hand. “But it isn’t the Gasnarians trying to live on that planet now.”

  “As the economic advisor, I’ve nothing further to add to this discussion, Your Highness. If I may?” Pickcit asked, motioning toward the door.

  “Thank you for your input, Master Pickcit,” Tacticnok replied.

  When Pickcit was excused, he bowed his head, his age preventing him from paying any deeper deference to Tacticnok, and departed.

  “It seems I’m expected to be the voice of reason,” Roknick said, glancing briefly at Tiknock. “However, Your Highness, I’m not so willing to abdicate reason to your exuberance. His Excellency has commanded us to ensure that you have our best guidance. Not only does that require that we give you our advice but that you partake of it.”

  “I’m listening, Master Roknick,” Tacticnok replied, her temper fraying further.

  “If you’re intent on this foolhardy mission, I must insist that you take a suitable contingent of soldiers to protect you. Furthermore, I insist on the majority of them preceding you through the gate.” Roknick lounged on his pallet, his smug expression making him appear as if he’d scored the winning point in some important game.

  “We’re going there to entreat them, not intimidate them, Master Roknick,” Tacticnok objected.

  “I wasn’t in favor of the limited protection you had for your first visit, Your Highness. You were most fortunate not to run afoul of the aliens, and I compliment you on keeping your visit short. However, Master Tiknock, Jaktook, and you have made the argument that the equipment you spotted was being used to monitor the dome. Undoubtedly, the aliens have seen you, and there’s every reason to believe they’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Wea
pons weren’t in evidence in the console’s recording,” Tacticnok argued.

  “That doesn’t mean the aliens don’t have them, Your Highness,” Roknick replied. “Consider that it’s only Jatouche soldiers who carry weapons, and no other members of our race. The aliens, who were trapped in the Gasnar dome, might be explorers, scientists, miners, or anyone else but soldiers.”

  “All the more reason not to appear festooned with weapons, Master Roknick. That could set off a fight that ends our mission before it gets an opportunity to start,” Tacticnok shot back.

  “You’re saying, Your Highness, that you would prefer to be captured by the aliens rather than resist and give yourself an opportunity to return,” Roknick challenged.

  It was all that Tacticnok could do not to lash out at the master strategist. She caught Jaktook’s motion out of the corner of her eye. His hand made a slow, slashing motion, a negation. She bit back her anger, searching for a worthy response. Something her father said about intractable individuals, who insisted their voices be heard, came to her.

  “Your advice is noted, Master Roknick, and I believe it to be wise,” Tacticnok said, dipping her head in acknowledgment of its value. “I see now that this team might be in grave danger without a leader of your caliber to accompany it. I thank you for volunteering.”

  Roknick snapped upright on his pallet. “I did no such thing, Your Highness. There are military leaders, young ones, who are more qualified to be effective field commanders.”

  “Well, Master Roknick, if you’re not accompanying us, then I think we can conclude that you’ve exhausted your advice. You may leave us now.”

  If Roknick hadn’t been panicked by the royal suggestion that he make the journey to Gasnar, he might have realized that Tacticnok hadn’t accepted his advice. Instead, he bowed hastily and quickly made his exit.

  Jaktook, Kractik, and Jakkock stared expectantly at Tacticnok, unsure of her emotional reaction to what had transpired. They certainly weren’t ready for her gentle laughter.

  “Quite effective, Your Highness,” Tiknock said, chuckling. “Master Roknick will probably reach his humble abode before he realizes that he never received your agreement. As for my input, Your Highness, it’s also complete,” Tiknock said, rising. “I believe that we must contact these aliens, not merely to greet them, but to offer our help in restoring their planet to a healthy balance.”

  When Tacticnok excused Tiknock, he bowed from the waist and said, “I bid this group a good evening.” As he passed Jaktook, he laid a companionly hand on the younger Jatouche’s shoulder. It was a gesture that Tacticnok noted.

  * * * *

  Tacticnok weathered her father and her advisors’ objections. On a late evening, which would coincide with the Gasnar dome bathed in the light of its star, her team assembled. It was the same eight members as before. The only difference was the amount of gear that was stacked beside their gate and would follow their voyage.

  “Is everyone ready?” Tacticnok asked.

  Some nodded and some murmured their reply. All in all, it spoke volumes about the more intense level of fear this time. The soldiers, led by Jittak, knew the dome was being observed, and they anticipated the aliens waited to overwhelm them. After that, they could only imagine the primitive forms of punishment that would spell their fates.

  “Courage, my friends,” Tacticnok said. “Don’t let your imaginations run away with you. Remember how many races have joined the alliance. I’m confident that this young species might be another honorable one. As before, while we’re at Gasnar, I’m merely Tacticnok, the team leader.”

  Tacticnok signaled her helmet to close and climbed onto the platform with alacrity. She hoped her actions would indicate her confidence. The remaining team members stepped beside Tacticnok, and she checked that the soldiers held their weapons at rest. The console tech energized the gate and sent Na-Tikkook’s royal emissary across a vast distance of space via the Messinants’ incredible technology.

  The arrival at the Gasnar gate was accompanied by the same mix of anxiety and disappointment as the first time for Tacticnok. Had she asked, she would have found that she was the only one who felt those emotions. Everyone, but Jaktook, was breathing sighs of relief. As for Jaktook, he was severely disappointed.

  “Kractik, open the egress ramp,” Tacticnok ordered. “Then, after our equipment has arrived, prepare the console for our return, with a short delay once initiated.”

  As Kractik signaled the dome’s wedge-shaped ramp aside, the platform’s beam flashed, and a pile of gear appeared. There was no rush to remove it. Even if the Jatouche at the far end of the gate tried to send anything, individuals or things, the gate wouldn’t operate. Somehow, the Q-gates’ synchronicity prevented a sending from one end if anything occupied the platform on the other end. Alliance scientists had been unable to determine how the Messinants accomplished this feature. However, every race was intent on discovering this and many others of the domes’ secrets.

  Tacticnok walked to the edge of the dome, with Jaktook alongside. This time, she carried her own viewer and a few more devices that she thought might come in handy. She signaled her helmet, which retracted over her head and into her suit. With the viewer to her eyes, Tacticnok focused on the ancient array. Small lights were on, indicating to her that it was in use.

  “The aliens’ monitor is active,” Tacticnok said, with enthusiasm.

  “Much as I wish to meet these individuals, Tacticnok, we must prepare ourselves for disappointment,” Jaktook replied.

  “Explain,” Tacticnok requested.

  “We’ve seen imagery of the aliens visiting the dome nearly an annual ago. We see an array that they probably set up at the time. But, they’re not here now, and there’s no sign of further activity … no individuals present, no equipment around, and, most important, no ships above.”

  “Do you think they could have left Gasnar?” Tacticnok asked, deflating.

  “I think that we should consider that possibility, Tacticnok,” Jaktook replied. “It won’t change our plans, but it does mean that we should set a time limit on how long we’re prepared to wait for the aliens to meet with us.”

  Tacticnok loosed a sigh and turned to the waiting team members. “Everyone below,” she ordered. “Hang your suits up in the domiciles. Then, Jittak, have your soldiers unpack our supplies.”

  The small team set about preparing the dome for an extended visit. Below deck, in the central corridor, carvings, which were undecipherable to the uninitiated, were activated to open doors. The glowing carvings, which were on every surface, hid in plain sight a variety of operational triggers that couldn’t be identified unless the console’s manuals had been deciphered.

  The Messinants took steps to ensure that every race, which they’d uplifted, progressed to a certain level of sentience before they could use the gates. The domes were not situated off the home worlds, but the races were challenged to learn the consoles’ basic operations and discover the domes’ manuals.

  In one room off the corridor, the team doffed their suits and hung them up in cabinets. Beds were left extended from the walls. Jittak and his soldiers sniffed in disgust. They were prepared to accommodate the taller Gasnarians. The soldiers touched glyphs on the walls to retract the beds. After a short period, while the beds and pallets were cleansed, laser beams scanned the soldiers, and the beds extended out the required distance to accommodate the shorter Jatouche.

  While the soldiers hurried to the dome’s deck to unpack supplies, Kractik and Jakkock, the linguist, prepared the primary room. It held equipment that operated as a kitchen of sorts. If the manuals were read, the operations were simple, if not intuitive. There were tables and chairs for eating and holding meetings. But, for this visit, the furniture wouldn’t be utilized.

  On the platform deck, Jittak and his soldiers unpacked crates, stacking the empties to the side. They were careful to maintain an unobstructed view between wherever Tacticnok stood and the aliens’ monitoring array.


  Sleeping pedestals were extended and locked in place. Then they were covered with pallets and pillows. Jittak arranged them in a three-quarter circle facing the exposed exit wedge. Tacticnok’s pallet was placed on the end of the arc, closest to the distant array. To Jittak, it seemed an odd arrangement, but he’d given up trying to anticipate Tacticnok’s needs. He wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to do if the aliens showed. As a soldier, he felt entirely out of his depth with the steps of first contact.

  In a discussion with his mate, Jittak had lamented that he couldn’t understand why a greater number of soldiers, with a more seasoned and higher-ranked leader, wasn’t accompanying Her Highness.

  “Don’t you trust Her Highness’ decisions?” his mate had asked.

  “How could I judge that?” Jittak had wailed. “The Jatouche haven’t met a new race in over a millennium. There’s no one alive to guide us. And, every race we met had learned to operate their console and gate. When we greeted them, it was on even terms. But these aliens are technological infants.”

  “So, my mate, you have no idea what to do. Then you must trust Her Highness. It’s that simple.”

  His mate’s advice hadn’t settled well with Jittak, but it appeared he had no alternative other than to do just that.

  When all was ready, Tacticnok waited until Kractik and Jakkock brought trays of food and drink to the team, who rested on their pallets.

  “Sit up, hold the trays in your laps, and your drink cup in your hand,” Tacticnok requested. “Jaktook bring your tray here.”

  Tacticnok walked to the dome’s edge. Facing the array, she said, “Everyone, when I raise my cup, do the same in the direction of the alien’s equipment. Jaktook, please hold your tray up.”

  Tacticnok hoisted her cup, and her team did as ordered. Then Jaktook and she returned to their pallets, and the team consumed their meals.

  “I believe I am beginning to understand your methods, Tacticnok,” Jittak said, while he ate. “We appear as nothing more than simple travelers stopping by to consume a meal and requesting our hosts join us.”