Drifter's Folly (Peacekeepers of Sol Book 4)

by Glynn Stewart

  Sylvia smiled at the memory.

  “I owe Trosh my life,” she reminded the others. “He was with us aboard Carpenter, as your security chief then, Rising Principle.”

  “Trosh is-was very good at his job,” the Enteni agreed. “Yonca is-was equally good at hers. You will be well aided.”

  Sylvia glanced at Henry. His tiny, almost-invisible shrug deferred the decision to her.

  “I will meet with Yonca before deciding,” she told them, “but I do not expect problems. Together, we will help build a better future for this region. I promise.”

  That was what all of this mess was about, after all. They’d knocked down an exploitative enslaving galactic empire. Now they were trying to help build something in its place!

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sylvia ended up meeting Yonca at the spaceport the next morning. Henry had already returned to Paladin, a decision that would have disappointed her more if she wasn’t supposed to follow him within a few hours.

  Exactly three minutes before the scheduled time, there was a calmly confident knock on the door of her borrowed office. There were enough GroundDiv troops following Sylvia around everywhere for her to be confident it could only be Yonca—if nothing else, Felix Leitz was also outside.

  “Come in,” she instructed in Kem.

  The woman who entered at her command did not look alien to Sylvia. At all. Yonca was about a hundred and sixty centimeters tall, plump where Sylvia was skinny, and had a pitch-black skin tone that could have as easily come from Nigeria as Eerdish.

  Looking for signs that Yonca wasn’t human allowed Sylvia to pick out a slight green edge to the darkness of her skin, but the Eerdish could have passed for human to anyone who didn’t know what an Eerdish was.

  “Envoy Yonca,” Sylvia greeted the woman, rising from her chair and bowing slightly. The bow was a Kenmiri tradition but, like the Kem trade language, it served as a handy universal tool for interacting with very different cultures.

  “Ambassador Todorovich,” Yonca replied, bowing in turn. “I thank you for seeing me. Rising Principle briefed me on what you are hoping to achieve.”

  The room was empty except for two chairs, and Sylvia gestured Yonca to the empty one.

  “Are you familiar with the Eerdish homeworld?” she asked, still speaking in the Kem they shared.

  “Not personally,” Yonca said. “My parents were from one of the last drafts from Eerdish, however. They raised me in as much of our true culture as they could. Not something the Kenmiri made easy.”

  “Not as I understand it, no,” Sylvia murmured. “You were raised here? On La-Tar?”

  “Yes,” the other woman confirmed. “I can tell you exactly which crops on this planet can feed which species most efficiently, and which fertilizers each of them needs.”

  She snorted and shook her head.

  “I was raised to be a farmer, but I ended up being the one negotiating between farming communities,” she told Sylvia. “When one of the communities came up short on their drafts, the Kenmiri were brutal. We made sure that no one ever did by the time I was an adult, but that meant a continual trading of favors.”

  The woman’s lips twisted. It was a more neutral expression in Eerdish culture than most Terran ones, but her eyes and microexpressions told everything to Sylvia. There was some old bitterness there.

  “One thing led to another, and by the time the Empire fell, I was coordinating guerilla logistics across a continent,” Yonca continued. “That turned into a mediator role for the Council of Supply and then, well”—she gestured around them—“a trade-negotiator role for first La-Tar and then the whole Cluster.

  “I hope we can open additional pathways for our goods with my parents’ homeworld,” she noted. “But I understand that is a secondary goal at best.”

  “An important one,” Sylvia said. “The UPA wants to open communication networks and trade routes ourselves, but we face the obstacle that the Eerdish almost certainly think we are the enemy.”

  “Entirely likely,” Yonca confirmed. “The alliance with the Kozun will be the only thing they are certain of about both the UPA and the La-Tar Cluster. However, the UPA is more likely to have doors opened for them than the Cluster is. A combined approach will benefit us both, but you do not truly need us.”

  That was an odd negotiating tactic, and Sylvia smiled thinly as she leaned back and studied the Eerdish woman.

  “How do you think you will benefit us, then?” she asked.

  “The Terrans are known by reputation to the Eerdish from before the Fall,” Yonca told her. “They know you as El-Vesheron and they know you fought the Kenmiri. I presume Terran ships probably fought alongside Eerdish ships at times. You are a known entity but not a close friend.

  “Those past sacrifices and alliances will buy you time to speak, and it is possible that you will say the right things and keep the doors open,” she continued. “The La-Tar Cluster, on the other hand, is a complete unknown to them. They know of our worlds at best as a former Kozun target and at worst as a current Kozun ally—potentially even a Kozun dependency, if the news they get is slanted enough.

  “They are far enough away that our prior conflict with the Kozun will open no doors, given our current defensive agreements. But, unlike you, I know Eerdish and Enteni culture and understand the structures and etiquette they are using.

  “I know how to sell what we have on offer well enough to keep the doors open so we can negotiate an agreement,” Yonca concluded. “They will not listen to me if I show up on a Cluster ship—but I know what to say and you do not.

  “Working together benefits us both, above and beyond our shared alliances and objectives.”

  Sylvia was silent for a moment.

  “And what do you think our best-case scenario here is?” she asked.

  “We want permission for your Twelfth Fleet to pursue the Drifters who destroyed Carpenter and killed several of my friends,” Yonca said flatly. “And you probably want to be able to negotiate a peace between the Kozun and the Eerdish, though that will take cooperation from both sides.

  “I want that peace as well, and I also want to open trade routes to allow us to sell the assorted products of the Cluster for the things we still cannot produce.”

  She spread her hands.

  “Our objectives are aligned with each other, Ambassador Todorovich,” she noted. “And, in truth, I think our objectives are well aligned with the Eerdish-Enteni Alliance’s needs. We just need to convince them of that.”

  “I agree,” Sylvia told her. “Is your team ready, Envoy Yonca?”

  The Eerdish grinned.

  “They have packed their things and are waiting to be called to the spaceport,” she told Sylvia.

  “Then call them,” Sylvia instructed. “Our shuttle is waiting, and the sooner Commodore Wong’s ships are under way, the better.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Henry made a point of pulling everyone together into a virtual conference as they headed toward the Satra skip line. All three ship captains, both of his staff officers, as well as Sylvia and the Eerdish diplomat from the locals.

  Most of the members of the meeting were in a single room on Paladin, though they’d split the diplomatic contingent over all three ships. None of the Cataphract-class ships had a lot of spare space.

  Yonca was aboard Maharatha and linked in with Lieutenant Colonel Teunissen. Lieutenant Colonel Palmer was linked in alone from Cataphract. Henry, Sylvia, Ihejirika, Eowyn and Chan were all aboard Paladin.

  Yonca was wearing a bulky headset linked to Maharatha’s computers and providing her a real-time translation of the English conversation.

  “Thank you all for making the time for this,” Henry told them. “We’re about two hours out from the Satra skip line, which will put us out of contact for an extended period. Nature of the game, but I wanted to lay out some of the situation before us.”

  He gestured the astrographic chart of the region into the air between them all. The La
-Tar Cluster was marked in bright blue. The Kozun Hierarchy, somewhat more vaguely defined, was marked in dark blue. The distinction between those two shades wasn’t something Henry would explain to Yonca—because it meant that the UPA regarded the Cluster as a reliable ally and the Hierarchy as an unreliable ally.

  Most of the other stars in the region were flagged in various gradations of yellow—neutrals, with the shades selected solely to distinguish between them. The largest of those entities was the subject of their mission, the Eerdish-Enteni Alliance.

  “The Ra Sector, people,” he told them. “We are here, at La-Tar.”

  The star was already highlighted and there was a blinking icon marking DesRon Twenty-Seven’s location. There were more icons there, marking Twelfth Fleet, individual Peacekeeper Initiative destroyers and Cluster formations.

  “The last known location of the BGO Convoy was here, the Nohtoin System,” he continued. That system flashed. “That system is eight days away if we use the pulsar, here, to cut four days off our travel time.”

  “That definitely has advantages,” Palmer observed. “The E-Two should have much lighter defenses on the far side of their territory from the Kozun. We can follow the Drifters’ trail and avoid colliding with their defenders.”

  Henry had already assured Sylvia they weren’t going to go that way, but Palmer also had a point. And…part of him was worried. He’d agreed with Sylvia’s point, but now he was wondering if he’d agreed to it because it was the right plan…or because it was Sylvia’s plan.

  “That’s one option,” he agreed carefully. “Let’s look at them all before we charge in like bulls in a china shop.”

  Several star systems flashed green around the limits of the yellow blob marking the E-Two.

  “Our most direct approach is here,” he noted. “Ra-Ninety-Two. It’s on a minimum-time course from La-Tar to Eerdish itself. It is not on the front of their war with the Kozun, but it is a red giant I would expect them to have garrisoned.

  “Our sneakiest approach is the one that Captain Palmer has indicated,” he continued. “We use the same pulsar the Drifters did and enter E-Two space from the opposite direction of the Kozun Hierarchy. That will likely allow us a material amount of time to locate the Drifters before we encounter the E-Two.”

  “And dramatically increases our likelihood of a firefight with a potential ally,” Sylvia said sharply.

  Henry carefully didn’t look at her. He was turning the options over in his head and he still figured Ra-92 was their best choice. But the thought that he might have gone along with Sylvia’s plan just because it was hers left him unsure—and the best answer to that, he figured, was to get buy-in from all of his officers.

  “Those are the two obvious options,” he noted. “Both have pros and cons. Does anyone have alternatives to suggest?”

  “Two, I think,” Eowyn noted after a moment’s thought. “Neither is a good idea, I don’t think, but I’ll throw them out there.”

  Henry nodded and passed control of the map to her internal network.

  “First, we can use our mission as a way to…influence Kozun operations,” his Operations officer noted. “The last thing they want to do is get Twelfth Fleet pointed at them, so they’re going to walk on eggshells around us.

  “If we transit through here, we’re coming through the front line between the Kozun and the E-Two,” she said, highlighting a star system. “It’s only two days longer than going through Ra-Ninety-Two, but if we’re successful in making contact, we will likely force the Kozun to suspend operations for several days at least.”

  “That seems like a fraught plan,” Ihejirika pointed out. “We’d be flying into prepared defenses in a war zone. That’s a good way to get shot.”

  “It definitely has its disadvantages,” Eowyn agreed. “Frankly, I think it’s a terrible idea, but the chance to force a temporary suspension of combat ops might be worth it.”

  “That’s worth a lot,” Henry allowed. “I’m not sure it’s worth risking this squadron, though. Your other thought, Commander?”

  Eowyn glanced at Yonca’s image, then shrugged.

  “If we limit ourselves to the same acceleration ranges as a Significance-class destroyer, we have almost no visible heat emissions,” she said. “We know they’re going to be garrisoning Ra-Ninety-Two. But if we skip in through here and here, we’ll avoid their main forces.”

  The two systems she highlighted were uninhabited red dwarfs. It would take an extra three days to follow the route versus Ra-92—a system that definitely had an Eerdish name Henry’s people didn’t know—but those systems would have limited military presences, mostly scouts to bring in the nodal fleet from Ra-92.

  “Using our GMS at low energy, we have a decent chance of slipping through those systems undetected,” Eowyn continued. “We then skip from Ra-Two-Fifty-Two directly to the Eerdish System and present our diplomatic papers.

  “We avoid their main defenses, but we still go say hi right away.”

  That was probably a better plan than trying to make contact via the front line of the E-Two’s war with the Hierarchy! It still involved sneaking around in the dark, and Henry was inclined toward only doing that if the Drifters were in play.

  “There are a lot of risks baked into sneaking around a neutral nation we want to see us as friends,” Sylvia said coldly. “Either sneaking in through Nohtoin or via uninhabited systems both have the same risk: if we are not open about our presence and clearly friendly from the beginning, we risk losing the very friendship and peace this entire mission is about.

  “While I accept that there may be military reasons to try something different, this frankly isn’t a military mission until we have negotiated freedom of passage.”

  “Step carefully,” Yonca suggested, the Eerdish speaking for the first time. The translator was only one-way, so she spoke in Kem. “These people were not all Vesheron. Many were simply slaves of the Kenmiri and surviving from day to day. With the Kozun attack on their systems, that is the image they hold of the Vesheron.

  “The old alliance we want to use to open doors is one they see as a source of their current threat. They have been betrayed by Vesheron before. The name may still have positive memories, but if we even appear to be a threat…”

  “We throw away our easiest chance at a peaceful resolution and new ally,” Captain Teunissen said, returning to English. “I have to agree with Envoy Yonca, Commodore. Anything short of full transparency and visibility risks our mission more than it helps anyone.”

  “I also agree,” Ihejirika said. “Charging in like we know all the answers and everyone else must adapt to our actions is rude at best, dangerous at worst. Our mission is to ask permission. We should do that first, before anything else.”

  Eowyn chuckled.

  “Both of my ideas were terrible,” she admitted. “But we were already considering a terrible one with trying to sneak in via the pulsar. We’ve got to talk to them, people.”

  A military command wasn’t a democracy, but it made Henry much more comfortable with his own decision that his people were on his side. He held up a hand before anyone else spoke up.

  “I think that’s my decision made, then,” he told them. “We will proceed to Ra-Ninety-Two and make contact with the E-Two defensive fleet there. This is, as Ambassador Todorovich noted, a diplomatic mission first.

  “Only once we have permission to hunt in the E-Two Alliance’s space will we hunt.”

  He smiled thinly.

  “Of course, we will keep our sensors very sharp as we head in,” he told them. “Who knows what we might find?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sylvia didn’t even bother to knock before entering Henry’s office, riding a storm cloud of anger that surprised her as she barged in. Wordlessly, she crossed to her boyfriend’s desk, pulled a chair clear and took a seat.

  To her surprise, he didn’t object, eyeing her levelly across the desk for a few seconds before sighing.

  “I belie
ve I owe you an apology,” he told her. “We had previously discussed the strategy we were going to take, and I appeared to have changed my mind.”

  That cut some of Sylvia’s steam out, but she still glared at him.

  “If you were going to play sounding board with your people to get them on board, you could at least have warned me,” she told him. “I didn’t come into that meeting prepared to argue for that position, Henry. I thought it was made.”

  There were a dozen ways to get to the decision point they were now at, but she’d expected her partner to tell her if they were playing Socratic games.

  “I thought you trusted my judgment,” she admitted after a moment, getting to the heart of her annoyance.

  “The question, Sylvia, was never your judgment,” Henry said, his tone soft. “My fear was around my judgment. Whether I had accepted your plan because it was the best plan. Or whether I had accepted it because it was your plan.

  “I was not certain, so I decided to use my officers as a sounding board to check my judgment.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, this wasn’t a planned decision,” he admitted. “More a weakness of the moment. I should have warned you somehow, Sylvia.

  “Having everyone raise options and knock them down to one is a useful method of acquiring buy-in from my subordinates, but if that was my plan, I should have included you in that.

  “I did not.”

  He spread his hands.

  “I am sorry,” he concluded. “Not everything I do can be shaped by our relationship, but in this case, I allowed my fears around my emotions to undermine our professional partnership.”

  Sylvia was still glaring, but it had lost some of the heat.

  “At least you recognize when you fuck up,” she said, her tone still chilly but not as sharp as before. She sighed. “Us being an us can’t get in the way of our work, Henry. If it risks your ability to take my advice and handle diplomatic matters that way…”