by Aer-ki Jyr
Ardvak made another buzzing sound, which the translator interpreted as indecision.
“They have nothing rare, but have significant amounts of palladium and tungsten, which I know Humans use a great deal of.”
“We use a lot of materials,” Dakota reminded him. “So you’re suggesting that any potential trade deals would be resource only?”
“They have little technology, from what I am told. What mining they do is labor intensive, but they have a high population so it balances out. My government does not feel they are important enough to establish formal relations with. I promised I would pass on their request for contact to you, but I made no promise of your response. I fully understand if they are not worth your time, but you have an interest in meeting new races, yes?”
Dakota smiled, picking up on some of the Critel politics involved. “Arrange a meeting for three hours from now, if possible.”
“They will accommodate you, I’m sure.”
“Do you have any other business with us?”
“Not at the moment. Have you any for us?”
“Not at the moment,” Dakota echoed.
“Thank you for your time,” Ardvak said, standing up and stretching out his long, thin body up to his 7 foot height. “I will set up the introduction.”
“3 hours,” Dakota reminded him, then walked out the door on his side of the table while Ardvak went out his.
Ardvak opened the door and walked into the commerce room first, then was followed in by another Critel and finally the smaller alien that almost bounced along with each step. Dakota was waiting on his side of the table that stretched all the way down into the floor, acting as a solid barrier between the two groups with no room to walk around either side, for it stretched out and connected with the side walls. There was no barrier above the table though, giving both parties an intimate, yet segregated room to discuss matters of state within.
Babylon had dozens of these rooms with the built-in translation programs for use by all of the enclaves and their patrons. Typically no more than a third were in use simultaneously, but as the station drew more and more traffic the commerce rooms had started to become popular amongst the other races that typically couldn’t speak each other’s languages. Many had translation programs for text messages sent between ships or their enclaves, but few had realtime translation programs that they could use in person.
At the moment two of the other rooms were in use by Human delegations while 13 others were in use by non-Human parties. The Human negotiators were all Clan Kirk, as were all of the Humans on Babylon. Dakota’s Clan had been given stewardship of the Babylon station, which included providing security for all involved. As the small alien passed through the door and it closed behind it when the motion sensors indicated that the threshold was clear, Dakota caught a glimpse of one of the two Knight guards outside, both of which stood as tall as the Critel, then the four diplomats were sealed inside behind privacy-lined walls.
“Dak’tule,” Ardvak offered in greeting as he attached his headband and passed one to the other Critel.
“Dak’tule,” Dakota echoed, his eyes falling on the other gangly alien.
“This is the Captain of the freighter that transported Kritas here,” Ardvak explained. “And this…is Kritas.”
“Greetings,” the small alien said in English, standing on the floor as its two towering companions sat down. Dakota remained standing on his side so the table wouldn’t block his view of the newcomer.
“Hello,” Dakota offered, reminding himself to speak as simply as possible. “I am told you learned our language?”
“We have,” it said, but did not elaborate any further.
“I am also told that you traveled a long way to speak to us. We will listen.”
“We are happy. We are also sad. We are ashamed. We seek your mercy.”
Dakota frowned and tossed a quick look at Ardvak, who shook his head…a Human gesture that he’d picked up, indicating that he didn’t know what this was about.
“Your name is Kritas?”
“Kiritas, yes.”
“What is the name of your people?”
“We are Kiritas.”
“What is your individual name?”
“I speak for all. I take the name of all.”
“Kiritas, what kind of mercy do you seek?”
“We die. We do not want to die. We ask for mercy.”
Mercy, Dakota thought, guessing they’d gotten the meaning a bit wrong.
“How are you dying?”
“We starve.”
“You seek aid.”
“We will compensate.”
“You wish to establish trade?”
“We seek mercy.”
Dakota glanced at Ardvak. “Can you try and define ‘mercy’ for me?”
The tall Critel, still taller than the Kiritas even when sitting, spoke in a series of warbles to the small alien that his earpiece also translated. When the Kiritas responded the translated answers were broken and jumbled, suggesting that its understanding of the Critel language was limited. After a few exchanges Ardvak turned back to Dakota.
“I think by ‘mercy’ they mean ‘help.’”
“Thank you,” the trailblazer said, looking back down at the angled head plate across the table that reminded Dakota of a hornless triceratops. “Why do you ask us and not others? Why not ask the Critel?”
“Humans are saviors. We have heard stories. You freed Darlestiks. You rescue Junlats. You can save Kiritas also. What is ours is yours. We want to die no longer.”
“You need foodstuffs?”
“We need many things. You have large planet. You no starve. Teach us not to starve. Teach us to travel the stars. Teach us to be like you. We need your mercy.”
Large planet…overpopulation.
“How many Kiritas are there?”
“2 trillion. Too many. Cannot save.”
Dakota’s eyes went wide. Did it get the number right?
Ardvak stepped in and asked in his language for a clarification of the number, but the Kiritas had to answer in a roundabout way because it didn’t know the Critel word for ‘trillion.’
“All on one planet?” Ardvak asked the Captain beside him.
“He speaks the truth. They are very overcrowded.”
“What do you trade with them?” Dakota asked.
“Various elements and compounds they mine.”
“What do you give them?”
The Critel hesitated a moment, then purred a bit, which the translator tagged as a gesture of shame. “Food.”
Dakota glanced at the ambassador. “That explains the profit margins.”
“Indeed,” Ardvak said, glaring at the Captain. “And not much of it?”
“They’re willing to trade for small amounts. They don’t even use most of the stuff they mine so they trade it away almost for free. They asked for little in return and we gave it to them. We’re businessmen. Why pay more than the client is charging?”
Dakota and Ardvak stared at him for a moment before the Human spoke again. “How bad is it?”
The Captain glanced to his left at the Kiritas, almost apologizing before he spoke. “Their world is out of control. They are not stupid, but they have no population control and have outgrown their planet’s natural resources. The foodstuffs we trade them feed thousands.”
“What do they eat?”
“We trade them kiporat.”
“It’s somewhat similar to your bread,” Ardvak offered. “Small cakes about this size,” he said, putting his fingers together to outline a perimeter slightly larger than Dakota’s fist.
“Cheap?”
“Fairly,” the ambassador admitted, “more widespread than low quality.”
Dakota looked down at the Kiritas. “You said what is yours is ours. What did you mean?”
“You set terms. We agree.”
“What do you think we will ask?”
“We die. It matters not. Save us.”
&nb
sp; Dakota sucked in a deep breath then blew it out slowly. “Tell me more about your world.”
“It is large. Gravity more than this. Flat land, small water. We build big cities. Many cities. What else you want to know?”
“Do you have any maps or data?”
“Maps yes. Do not know word ‘data.’”
“Information,” Dakota clarified.
“Yes, Kiritas bring much. I translate for you,” it said, pulling out a handful of what looked like data chips from the vest it wore. Then it reached into another pocket and pulled out what looked like a scroll and with one quick movement jumped up on top of the table and laid the objects down for Dakota to see. It flipped a tiny button on the scroll and the stiff material became flexible and the Kiritas rolled it out flat and touched another button, powering up the flatscreen and plugging in one of the chips to a slot along the edge.
A planetary map appeared with what looked like surface images.
“Do you have objects in orbit?”
“Yes, they make these pictures,” the Kiritas said, zooming in to a much closer view, going all the way down to street level where there was a cluster of small bumps smooshed together into a giant mass. “This is my home. You can see all parts of planet on this map.”
Dakota leaned over and took a closer look at the flatscreen, tapping what he thought was the zoom out button, seeing that the landscape was littered with the building clusters. He continued to zoom out, realizing that virtually all of the land space on the planet was filled with urbanization.
“Where do you make your food?”
“Many places,” the Kiritas said, taking control of the map and moving it to another of the nub-like building clusters. “We make food inside. Not enough. Too few fields.”
“How many more would you need to feed all of you?”
“We eat as little as possible. Many are sick because of this. At this amount of eating, double the fields we need. We have no place left to build. We take down old buildings, make new field, more Kiritas born. We cannot feed all. Many sick. Cannot work. Less to build. ”
Dakota leaned to the side and tapped a button on the translation module, opening a slide panel to reveal a control panel. Using it the Archon brought up a holographic display of a star chart, searching out the Iona System.
As he expected it was coreward of Sol and outside the mapping range of the Hycre. Star Force had never been there, obviously, but it was 58 light years away and on the back border of Critel territory. That was still a long haul for Star Force, especially if they were considering regular food shipments, but it wasn’t too far away to rule out all assistance.
The star system on the map was only a dot, but when Liam hit another button it exploded out into an insystem view with dozens of planets that had been cataloged by the V’kit’no’sat. No other maps obtained by Star Force covered this area, which was indicated by a small red tag at the base of the hologram.
“Which is your planet?”
The Kiritas pointed to one of the outer ones. “This is Kirit.”
Dakota pulled up the planetary data, noting that there were no native species listed, which he found curious. “Do any of the other planets have people on them?”
“We do not think so.”
Dakota glanced up at the Captain. “Are there?”
“No, there aren’t.”
Dakota zoomed the Star Force map out again, looking at the available jumplines. Star Force had a 22 light year maximum jump limit on its most advanced gravity drives due to targeting accuracies. The farther away the target was, the harder it was to hit. Some adjustments could be made enroute via thrust-based engines but not much, meaning the jumpship had to jump off the departure star exactly as needed else they’d miss the target star.
There were also navigational hazards blocking the jumplines, such as nebula and other debris. Those had to be avoided, and given that Star Force hadn’t been to this region they couldn’t be sure which jumplines were still clear. Nebula weren’t bound to move a lot, but given that it had been millennia since the V’kit’no’sat map had been updated they couldn’t take the chance and send a jumpship out before they’d sent a probe ship. It would take time to chart new/old jumplines, but that too could be accomplished if needed.
“What route do your ships take?”
The Captain leaned forward and traced three long lines coming out of their territory with one of his fingers.
“These jumplines are clean?”
“Two are. This one has limited debris, but our shields are strong enough to weather the transition.”
Dakota saw him point to the middle leg, one that was out of their way anyway.
“Ardvak, I’d appreciate any updated charts the Critel can provide.”
“I’ll inquire.”
“You will give mercy?” the Kiritas asked, its tail twitching side to side hopefully.
“We will look,” Dakota promised. “How long can you stay here before you go home?”
“As long as needed.”
“Good. We will have many questions. Now, I need to talk with my brothers,” the Archon explained, looking over at Ardvak. “Where is he staying?”
“For the time being he is a guest at our enclave.”
“I’ll make sure he has private quarters by tomorrow. Can you see to his orientation and care until then?”
“So long as he is our guest, that is my obligation.”
Dakota nodded his thanks, then turned back to the Kiritas. “We will talk again later.”
“Kiritas will be waiting.”
The trailblazer threw one last glance at Ardvak then shut down the hologram and retreated out the door on his side of the room, heading straight to Babylon’s control room.
“Narri, we have a new race on the station, single individual. Get him quarters assigned, coordinate with the Critel ambassador. He’s staying with them as a guest at the moment.”
“Who are they?” the fellow Clan Kirk Archon asked.
“Kiritas…from coreward of here,” Dakota said as he walked to the comm terminal and stood over the shoulder of the on duty officer. “Get me a priority prompt and tag all trailblazers in the system and Hightower as recipients.”
“Video or text?”
“Text.”
The officer worked the terminal for a few furious seconds in a flurry of button presses then his hands fell silent. “Done,” he said, giving up his seat.
Dakota sat down and began typing out a short report, along with insisting that his fellow Archons get their asses out to Babylon ASAP.
6
February 19, 2348
Iona System
Kirit
Randy watched from the bridge of the MCV-class jumpship Forge as it made a slow approach to the planet Kirit, coming in above the asteroid laden rings on an approach to the clear lower orbits. Aside from a scattering of satellites there was no space infrastructure to speak of. No ships, no stations, no orbital tethers…nada. If it wasn’t for the planetary rings the orbital space around Kirit would have been absolutely desolate, with only a few dozen probe-like satellites buzzing around like gnats.
There was one other signal in orbit, but it didn’t belong to the Kiritas. It was the Chimaera, still packed tight with its drone warships, having arrived an hour earlier. A third Freighter-class jumpship was due an hour later and was already in the system, but given that Kirit was the 8th planet around a huge white star it was considerably far away from the jumppoint the Star Force ships had arrived at. It had taken the Forge 8 hours to transit from there to the planet, then another hour to cautiously approach lower orbit around the planetary rings.
Tom-008 was commanding the Chimaera on this mission while the Nebuchadnezzar didn’t have any Archons onboard. It was playing the role of cargo hauler, as it normally did, with its regular captain and crew. It and the Chimaera would be returning to Star Force territory shortly, but the question was would the Forge be doing likewise or remaining behind.
The
foodstuffs the Nebuchadnezzar was carrying were going to the Kiritas, that much had been determined, but whether or not Star Force was going to take up the role of becoming caretaker of the planet was a decision in the making. There had been many discussions amongst the trailblazers as to what they could do and what they should do, but until they got on the planet and judged the conditions for themselves they’d be relying on secondhand information for an undertaking of massive proportions…which was something they weren’t willing to do.
However, if the Kiritas really were starving to death they couldn’t afford to waste time. Randy had been dispatched with the Forge to give him the option of beginning to build Star Force infrastructure immediately if they chose to go that route, while the other two jumpships would return as couriers with news and further requests for material and personnel. The Chimaera was present to make sure the system really was secure. Even though it was well outside of lizard territory they weren’t the only threats in the galaxy, and had the Kiritas been deceiving Star Force about the extent of their space technology it was possible they could have posed a threat to the jumpships themselves.
That didn’t appear to be the case, however. In fact, as Randy began to get surface scans from the Chimaera it was becoming clear that the primitive planet the Kiritas had described in detail was just that…highly urbanized and technologically unremarkable.
When the Forge made it to a low parking orbit Randy waited for the Nebuchadnezzar to arrive then rode down to the planet’s surface with the first wave of supplies on an assault shuttle from the Forge. It was armed, quick, and could carry a limited amount of cargo, perfect for security patrols or point to point troop transfers. The Forge had many of the craft onboard and Randy had dispatched more than half of them to fly escort down to the coordinates the Kiritas envoy directed them to.
He’d been expecting some type of spaceport, but as they flew over the surface from a few kilometers of elevation he saw a small lake in the distance and the narrow, dry beach that was to be their landing zone. Along the perimeter of the nearby buildings were thousands of Kiritas smashed into every street exit, balcony, and plaza within eyesight, but none of them were on the beach, keeping it clear for the dropships to arrive.
