“We already do,” Vulf said, and grinned.
While waiting for the Freels’ arrival, Vulf and I familiarized ourselves with the station. We ate lunch aboard the Orion, but took breakfast and dinner at the station’s two restaurants. There were also five bars and a hookah lounge. A hotel and a hostel catered for people who wanted time off their starship, or who were waiting for a connecting ship. Meeting rooms were also available. The Freel commander, Rjee, had booked one. We were to meet him there at midday, station time.
The Freels designated a group of seven to attend the meeting. Ahab had hacked Station Zemph’s surveillance system, and he reported on their activities from the moment their shuttle docked. While their destroyer was too big for the Station’s docks, it lurked within striking range.
At the Freels headed for the meeting room, I felt the erratic field of an active disrupter precede them.
I sent sha energy swirling with the kind of fidgety action only a shaman was capable of. The tiny stream of sha energy picked up the subtle energy of the planets that surrounded us. The garden at the center of the pentagram of domes was obviously someone’s treasure. It held a stunning collection of healthy plants. High, transparent barriers prevented people from leaving the paths and trampling it. Every now and then larger specimens, like the ficus tree, grew over the barriers and let passersby enjoy their soothing natural life.
The touch of plant-kissed sha energy fled from me as the disrupter neared. I let it go. The plants were stable in their energetic pattern and I wouldn’t disrupt it. Besides, if I wanted to take out the disrupter, I’d need more than their tiny threads of sha energy. I’d need to hold a steady stream.
Once the disrupter was in range, I wouldn’t be able to access sha energy directly, but if I already had it playing in patterns that could be tweaked to gather force and focus on a single location—like a disrupter—I could flip that sha energy to destroy the disrupter even without conscious control of it.
The question was, how did I do it? If I’d confided this unique twist to my shamanic talent to the research shamans at the Academy, they’d be investigating it for me. However, with the Academy shamans’ motivations and loyalties currently in doubt, I didn’t regret choosing secrecy and ignorance over the pursuit of knowledge. I would figure out the quirky, undocumented element of my sha energy use myself.
Just not right now.
Nor was now the time to puzzle over the ructions in the Academy. How many factions existed within it, their conflicting views and loyalties pushed to the surface by the pressure of current events?
My best option at present was to sit and do nothing. If I destroyed a disrupter, then everyone would learn that I could. Stations like Zemph are gossipy places, and information is its own form of currency in the galaxy. So I waited passively, holding onto my bond to Vulf for the calm strength he lent me as the disrupter’s field engulfed me and severed my direct access to sha energy.
Then the Freels arrived in visual range.
Vulf stood. He had his blaster clipped to his belt and a number of other weapons hidden about his person. But he, himself, was the most intimidating weapon. Coverage of his shift into inorganic robot wolf form on Naidoc had dominated the galaxy’s media for days. The Freels had agreed to this meeting knowing how dangerous he was.
In turn, we’d done our research on them. The Freel commander had given us his name, and Ahab had been able to provide minimal briefing on who we were dealing with.
Rjee was commander of the destroyer Force and the head of House Cardinal. He was middle-aged with two teenage children. If he followed Freel custom, the kids were aboard the Force. The Freels’ ruling class brought their children with them on their journeys, the thinking being that no one could protect them as well as their parents. The Freels’ attitude contrasted strongly with shifters’ approach to child raising. Parents entrusted their children to grandparents and planetside relatives on Corsairs, knowing that the entire population would defend the children.
The seven Freels wore light gray utility suit with white diagonal stripes. Nothing in the group’s clothing proclaimed their varying statuses. All were tall, blue-skinned, muscular and grim. Their thin-lipped mouths were tightly compressed.
I recognized one face from Ahab’s briefing. The woman who walked at Rjee’s right hand was his wife, Djarl.
They halted at double the distance of normal conversation. Two guards swiveled to face either direction along the path; a path that the group blocked completely.
Vulf and I sat to the side of it. The leaves of the ficus tree drifted along the back of the bench, stirred by an artificial wind.
“We were to meet in the Copper Room of the trade dome,” Rjee said.
“We’re early. Jaya wanted to waited in the garden.” By mentioning my name, Vulf provided an opening for introductions.
Rjee ignored it. “We will meet you in the Copper Room.”
Freels didn’t smile at strangers. It was an expression reserved for family and friends.
As a human woman, I’d been socialized to smile politely in tense social situations in an attempt to ease them. Fortunately, anxiety kept my mouth rigid. “Let’s walk with you,” I proposed.
“Is progressing together a human custom with some hidden meaning?” Djarl asked. Although the question was abrupt and suspicious, it was an engagement with us.
I bit my lip to stop a nervously hopeful smile. “No. Usually human parties in a negotiation would attempt to claim territory in the meeting room, either by hosting it in their building or starship, or by arriving first and setting up. Walking to the meeting room together is a practical suggestion. We’re blocking the path.”
People were loitering, unwilling to challenge the Freel guards to pass us. They were also curious.
“Practical.” Rjee snorted, but he set off at a moderate pace. Vulf walked beside him, and Djarl and I both walked on the outer side and a step behind our mates.
I glanced across at her. “Practicality aside, my personal reason for walking with you is to give my instincts a chance to relax in your presence. I’ve rarely met a Freel and my body is flooded with adrenaline at the unknown danger you represent.”
“We are dangerous,” one of the guards behind me said. His flat tone sounded pleased about it.
Djarl shot him a narrow-eyed look. Either he’d spoken when he should have remained silent, or what he’d said displeased her. “Better to understand one’s fear than to be a dead idiot.”
“Sorry.” It was a low, barely heard apology from the guard. Freels could speak at a range humans had trouble hearing. The Freels would have their own strategy for negotiating with us, and everyone in their party needed to stick to it. Gloating remarks were obviously not permitted.
We walked in silence.
The Copper Room was on the second floor, but the stairs to it were wide enough for our combined group to climb them easily. Vulf and Rjee followed the leading Freel guard. The meeting room had a round table, removing the question of who sat at the head.
Vulf and I sat next to one another.
Rjee and Djarl sat opposite us, and two Freels flanked them. The other three Freels remained standing, taking guard positions: one going outside and closing the door, the other standing just inside it, and the third standing to observe the table and the window that overlooked the central garden.
There were no refreshments.
Vulf had requested the negotiations, so he opened the meeting. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. I speak for humanity’s shifter clans. We have one planet, Corsairs, a pirate fleet, and some trade and business agreements.” Thanks to Cyrus, shifters also had a highly effective intelligenc
e network, but negotiating didn’t mean laying all your cards on the table. “My mate is Jaya Romanov. She is a shaman, but does not speak for them.”
Rjee nodded at that. “I am Rjee, Commander of House Cardinal. I speak for my house, but for no others. It is a small galaxy. We had a primary alliance once, but it was to the unmourned dead man whose house shattered after you defied him.”
“Who?” Vulf asked. Usually, Ahab would supply an answer, but if the Freels weren’t aware that a mLa’an artificial intelligence was our friend, we weren’t about to introduce that information into this meeting.
Djarl clarified her husband’s statement. “Vulf Trent, when you rescued the mLa’an child from the unmourned dead man—he who lost his name to dishonor—the revocation of his house’s existence voided House Cardinal’s inherited alliance with them. We have not replaced that alliance.”
House alliances were a big deal among the Freels, but they were also a closely guarded secret. Vulf hadn’t been able to discover House Cardinal’s position in the Freels’ alliance web.
Rjee had put it out there that he was open to far more than the bargain he’d struck with Winona as chancellor of the Academy. Rather than contract a dozen Freels to an isolated action, his whole house was free to enter into a new alliance.
Still, there was no reason to rush our meeting, and I had a different question. “Vulf told me how the mLa’an obliterated the fort in which the mLa’an child had been held hostage. Was that abject failure the reason the house leader was considered dishonored and his house disbanded?”
Rjee muttered something that sounded like a curse. It was violently unhappy, at any rate. As tall as Vulf and every bit as muscled, he sat straight in his chair and glared at me. “No.”
I had to send a calming
Djarl put a hand on her husband’s arm. “The dishonored one kidnapped a child. There were other things he’d done before, things no decent person would do, but that was the final mark of evil.”
“Mark of evil,” I repeated. “Yes. That is evil.”
Rjee flattened his hands on the table. The nails on his eight fingers and two thumbs had talon-like points. “The basis of an alliance is to share the same definition of evil. One partner cannot do what the other fights against.”
“Corsairs has a founding principle of protecting the children there. All children on the planet, whatever clan or species. Attacks against children are evil. Slavery is evil,” Vulf paused.
“Agreed,” Rjee said. His talons scraped the table. “I know some of my people, other Freels, trade in slaves. Decent Freels do NOT.” The not was a shout. “My people are still repairing the damage done to our society by our rushed entry into Galaxy Proper. We were not ready for it.”
“Why then did you join?” Vulf had studied the history texts, but he asked the question because Rjee had brought up this obviously painful subject for a reason. That reason was what we needed to discover.
What had motivated the Freels to join the galaxy’s biggest alliance when they did, and why did they regret it? How would it affect their current decisions?
Rjee folded his arms, hiding his talons that had caught the light with every tiny, disquieted flex of his blue fingers. “We applied for membership of Galaxy Proper to fend off Sidhe aggression. The Sidhe were circling our two solar systems, trapping us in what we currently held. Each time we ventured beyond them, the Sidhe’s war dogs pounced. It was an unequal fight. We could defeat the Sidhe, but in doing so, we’d have to display a level of aggression that would automatically trigger a Galaxy Proper defense of the Sidhe. They used their allies in Galaxy Proper as a weapon against us.” His big hands raked the air beside his chair. “If we were cowards, we’d have stayed within our two solar systems, but to cower is not the Freel way.”
Djarl interrupted. “Plus, we had reached the point where we could see the advantages of trading with non-Freels, for technology, in particular. Applying for Galaxy Proper membership turned the union’s rules against the Sidhe. We were protected by the union while our application was under consideration. We used those years to establish trading partnerships and gain some technological transfer. When our membership was approved…” She shrugged. “There was no going back.
“It has been a struggle,” Rjee said bluntly. “We did not understand the political games within Galaxy Proper. We should have used the years in which we were being considered for membership to establish political allies. When we concentrated instead on short term trade and technology goals, we missed that window of opportunity. The Sidhe can no longer attack us directly, but they still block us in Galaxy Proper’s parliament. Old enmities die hard.”
Vulf waited out a few seconds of silence. “Are you warning us that in allying with you we may open ourselves to trouble with the Sidhe?”
Rjee unfolded his arms, hands coming to rest once more on the table. “No. I am telling you why we are here, contemplating an alliance with a subset of humanity.”
“Not subset,” I said instantly.
Rjee blinked.
Djarl looked at me before glancing at Vulf. Her voice was softer when she looked back at me. “We do not mean ‘sub’ as lesser in ability, only in numbers. You cannot claim that your mate speaks for all humanity.”
The Freels had done their homework on us. She knew to call Vulf my mate, not husband or partner.
“No one can speak for all of humanity,” I said. “As a species we have yet to achieve full membership of Galaxy Proper. Until then a single voice is forbidden us. It was part of our Charter of Union.”
“Nonetheless, on San Juan, your President Hoffer assumed that mantle of leader of the Humanitarian Union,” Rjee said. “Chancellor Winona Hayden contracted with us to provide protection for the Star Guild Shaman Academy in the event that he acted against it. We have been monitoring his posturing.”
Posturing was a good word to describe President Hoffer’s antics, although he’d done more than merely pose. He’d brought Galactic Court attention to himself in the form of Shaman Justice Alex Ballantyne—a gift Kohia had delivered days before. She’d dropped off Alex, then zoomed over to lurk in the vicinity of Station Zemph, in case Vulf and I needed assistance. I didn’t ask what she thought her corvette could do against a Freel destroyer.
Vulf flattened his hands on the table, copying Rjee’s stance. “I don’t like negotiating and I thought that might make me a bad choice to sit here. However, when I researched Freel society I found that you are just as impatient of negotiations. If every detail of an agreement has to be spelled out, how much trust actually underlies it?”
The guard by the door nodded.
Vulf remained focused on Rjee, who hadn’t blinked. “So this is what I offer you.” Vulf paused, and it wasn’t for effect. What he was about to say would change many things. He wouldn’t have been human if the momentous weight of his proposal hadn’t shown.
The Freels’ eyebrows, dark blue to purple on Rjee, Djarl and their guards, all V’d upwards with interest as they reacted to the tension.
Vulf’s voice dropped to a deep rumble, his wolf adding its growl. The Freels were being warned to tread carefully, to listen, and not to disrespect Vulf’s offer. “The laws of Corsairs bind all shifter clans, whether our people are on-planet or travelling. The laws are publicly available, lodged at the Archives on Origin.”
“Although I suspect that few outsiders bother to study them,” I interjected. “They prefer to think of us as lawless pirates.”
Vulf’s intensity stuttered for an instant. Satisfaction at hearing my use of “us” flowed through our bond to me.
Rjee nodded slowly. “Freels have a similar reputation. Sometimes it is to our advantage.”
Vulf smiled. There was nothing pleasant about it. His l
ips peeled back from his teeth in a show of aggressive agreement with Rjee’s observation. “My negotiating position is simple. I offer House Cardinal, and House Cardinal alone, the chance to be recognized as a shifter clan, equal to all and welcome on Corsairs. It is a healthy, productive planet, with space for many.”
Offering living room on a planet as pleasant and secure as Corsairs went beyond mere political alliance. Rjee and Djarl’s eyebrows flattened as they attempted to blank their expressions to hide their surprise. But the guards in the room, the points of their eyebrows almost reached their hairlines with shock.
“And in exchange…?” Rjee prompted.
Djarl hit his arm. “He told you. We would be one of them—benefits and responsibilities as under Conclave Law.” She’d definitely researched the shifters.
Rjee blinked, his silver eyelids showing briefly. “So simple?”
“Yes,” Vulf said. “Simple in terms of negotiating. Not so simple for you to reconcile Freel laws and Conclave Law.”
“There are similarities.” Djarl pushed back from the table.
Vulf tensed.
But Djarl wasn’t leaving. She leaned back, staring unfocusedly out the window.
Whatever the Freels had expected Vulf to bring to the table, it hadn’t been such an extensive offer. They might shoot it down and try for something more limited.
“Would your people accept us?” Rjee asked.
“There will be friction,” Vulf admitted. “Our fleet has fought Freels in the past. We’re trained in how to do so.”
“Effectively,” one of the guards muttered.
“Emotions aren’t easily turned off,” Vulf continued without acknowledging the compliment. “But the offer for House Cardinal to be accepted as a shifter clan is made with full approval of the Conclave, our government,” he added, just to be clear. “Any conflict between individuals of your house and other clans would be subject to Conclave Law. A couple of examples might need to be made—of whoever instigated the trouble—but things would settle down.”
Cosmic Catalyst (Shamans & Shifters Space Opera Book 2) Page 14
