Alien intrigue, p.2
Alien Intrigue, page 2
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After the executors left Dakargk’s residence, he wasted no time communicating to Inquisitor Tarbar and Fleet Imperator Deckus that he required they take an extended trip with him.
Deckus had the same reaction as Tarbar. Both thought the directive to be unusual. It didn’t issue from the Imperium, not even from Presiding Executor Rebtar. However, as Dakargk was an executor, they had no choice but to obey.
After his confirmation of the two passengers, Dakargk wasted no time boarding his personal transport for the shuttleport. His admin and household knew his requirements. His baggage was already aboard, and his personal preferences had already been stocked.
Boarding the shuttle, Dakargk found Tarbar in his seat. He nodded to the inquisitor and chose to sit several seats away from him.
When the shuttle docked with Dakargk’s Imperium ship, Tarbar watched the executor exit the shuttle and walk off without a comment. A steward was ready to take his bags and show him to his cabin.
Tarbar thought to ask their destination, but he was sure the steward wouldn’t know.
After unpacking, Tarbar strolled to the bridge and greeted the imperator. Then he turned to observe the monitors and the panels. “Making for a fleet, are we?” he inquired casually.
“Fleet Imperator Deckus will be joining us,” the imperator replied.
Tarbar thanked the imperator for the information and casually left the bridge. Then he made his way to the lower deck to wait for Deckus.
Deckus exited his shuttle and received help to strip off his suit. When he rotated through the airlock, he met Tarbar and muttered, “Not again.”
“Is that intended as a comment about me or our circumstances?” Tarbar inquired.
“What do you know?” Deckus asked. He was irritated by the entire affair. The only thing that mollified him was that his fleet had been left in Gretren’s hands.
“I do know that we’re not headed to Helgart, if that helps,” Tarbar replied.
“It does,” Deckus replied. “So, where are we going?”
“Good question,” Tarbar responded. “The Imperium assembly recently concluded its meeting. Half the executors headed for their territories. Rumor has it that Dakargk hosted the other half of the executors at his residence.”
“Any information about the meeting’s purpose?” Deckus inquired.
“Nothing leaked, which is unusual,” Tarbar replied.
“That’s not good,” Deckus remarked. “Dakargk has a prosperous territory. Who could be of interest to him that he’d require our company?”
“The only thing you and I have in common is Helgart,” Tarbar mused. “That means this trip has to do with the visitors, and that can mean only one destination.”
The pair’s conversation was interrupted by a crew member. “Inquisitor Tarbar and Fleet Imperator Deckus, Executor Dakargk would see you now.”
Deckus burned to hear Tarbar’s final thought, but the inquisitor kept his orbs focused forward. He took the hint. Every crew member aboard the ship would be absolutely loyal to the executor.
Both Tarbar and Deckus were surprised by Dakargk’s suite. They’d expected something plush, opulent. Instead, it resembled a command post. Two of the walls were completely covered by panels that controlled monitors and projection stations.
“Sit,” Dakargk said curtly to his guests, pointing at a small round conference table. “We’re headed for Darmian.”
“Home world of the Radags?” Deckus queried.
“That’s correct,” Dakargk replied. “I’ve business to conduct with Fygthurn.”
Deckus wanted further details, but he was uncertain how to begin.
Tarbar chose to reply formally. “How might we be of service, Executor Dakargk?”
Dakargk cocked his head, as if to have a better view in which to examine Tarbar’s true nature. Then he replied, “That’s unknown.”
At this point, Deckus’s frustration had grown past the point of containment. The executors’ intrigues had resulted in nothing but failure, while they risked the lives of Krackus crews. Still, he held his temper in check and said, “Executor, the more you tell us, the better we’re able to assist you in achieving your goal.”
Dakargk’s right hand swept the air in front of him, as if signaling he was willing to relent to the fleet imperator’s request. “The alien fleet wasn’t found at Helgart because it was at Jumanus,” he said.
Tarbar and Deckus glanced toward each other, and their orbs lit.
“All thoughts will be shared,” Dakargk commanded.
“Jumanus isn’t just the Gorder home world. It’s the nearest home world to Helgart,” Tarbar replied.
“This is known,” Dakargk said dismissively.
“It’s provocation,” Deckus added.
“Expound,” Dakargk directed.
“The visitors have the guidance of Kreus and the dissidents,” Deckus explained. “The admiral would have explained her desires to them, and, in turn, she would have received their help.”
“You aren’t being clear, Deckus,” Dakargk admonished.
“This speaks to the very nature of the visitors,” Deckus explained. “The admiral and many other fleet members are SADEs, digital sentients. In addition, we understand that the conclave, which the fleet represents, is experienced at first contacts. They won’t react to a single prompt from us. They’ll be planning far in advance of us.”
“Then the aliens have sailed to Jumanus to provoke a response from us?” Dakargk sought to confirm.
“Isn’t what this is about, Executor?” Tarbar inquired, spreading his hands wide to indicate Dakargk and the ship.
“The aliens can’t know what I’ve intended,” Dakargk argued.
“We agree,” Deckus said quickly. “But this is part of the visitors’ way. We consider their actions unorthodox, but each thing they do is intended to make us react so that they can learn about us.”
“Discover our weaknesses,” Dakargk commented.
“Uncover our true natures, Executor,” Tarbar corrected.
“This helps me understand why the admiral didn’t visit our trap,” Dakargk mused.
“What trap?” Tarbar queried.
Dakargk explained the nature of the decoy they’d offered the aliens to split their Helgart forces. When he finished, he noted the nearly imperceptible trembling in his guests’ necks.
“I’ve said something humorous?” Dakargk queried.
The executor’s glare quickly sobered Tarbar and Deckus.
“Apologies, Executor,” Tarbar replied sincerely. “If our opinions had been solicited, we might have convinced the assembly that the trap wouldn’t have worked.”
“Your hindsight is of no value to me or the assembly,” Dakargk remarked disdainfully.
Both Tarbar and Deckus realized that the executor had enough of their advice, and they sat quietly. With an imperial wave of Dakargk’s hand toward the suite’s door, they hurriedly exited.
“Your cabin is this way, Fleet Imperator Deckus,” a crew member said, solicitously indicating the direction.
“Walk with me,” Deckus said quietly to Tarbar.
At Deckus’s cabin, he dismissed the crew member, while Tarbar and he chatted about innocuous subjects. Then the pair swiftly entered the cabin.
“A little utilitarian,” Deckus commented, surveilling the accommodations.
“It’s like mine,” Tarbar remarked. “There’ll be a few cabins superior to ours on this ship. That might tell you something about how Dakargk views us.”
“Let’s make this quick,” Deckus said. “Afterward, I don’t want us meeting except in Dakargk’s presence, unless we must.”
“Agreed,” Tarbar replied.
“I don’t see how I add value,” Deckus complained. “The Radags are a land force. I fight ships. The only time our crews encountered the visitors was when they repaired our peacekeepers. Korvath and Ragirt reported every event of the visitors’ processes. I’m sure that Dakargk has seen those reports.”
“I understand your frustration, Deckus,” Tarbar responded. “I think Dakargk’s plan is unformed, and he needs our assistance to understand how the visitors might react to the various proposals offered between Fygthurn and him.”
“And are you comfortable advising Dakargk on how the visitors will react in a land engagement?” Deckus inquired.
Tarbar gurgled at the thought that he had any knowledge about the subject. “Of course not,” he replied. “I’m proposing what I believe Dakargk thinks. I didn’t say he knew what he was doing.”
“Wonderful,” Deckus grumbled. “We’re about to —” he halted when he saw Tarbar’s orbs widen, and his hand swiftly warded him off. He nodded his head in understanding, and Tarbar offered an excuse about needing some rest, as a conclusion to their conversation.
After Tarbar left, Deckus pulled an electronic device from his baggage and checked his cabins for snoops. He found three and was careful not to disturb them.
2: Negotiators
DARMIAN, RADAG HOME WORLD
EXECUTOR DAKARGK’S TERRITORY
“An Imperium transport has arrived in system, Fygthurn,” the spaceport director said over his link to the negotiator.
“Just the single ship?” Fygthurn inquired.
“It’s been on approach for a full cycle,” the director replied. “We’ve been monitoring our entire system. No sign of treachery is evident.”
Fygthurn uttered a gruff chuff in recognition of the information and ended the call.
Radags didn’t trust the Krackus. They knew that as soon as the Imperium no longer needed them, they would endure the same severe restrictions that they’d observed every other race suffer.
“This would be Executor Dakargk arriving much too early,” commented Ogdurg, who was the sub-negotiator and Fygthurn’s mate.
“An opportunity for us or the subterfuge that ends our power?” Fygthurn mused.
“Or a greater offering than our warriors can handle,” Ogdurg proposed. “The Jumanus commander has now missed two reports.”
Fygthurn growled, and his barbed tail swished, while he considered the unlikely coincidence of the interrupted reports from Jumanus and the executor’s arrival.
While the executor’s ship made its way in system, Fygthurn and Ogdurg met with the council of Radag chiefs.
The chiefs were carefully kept hidden from the Krackus. Genetic manipulation to enhance chimerism had been practiced by the race for many centuries. In the case of the chiefs, the results had been optimal, and their offspring developed to become the most aggressive and best battle-prepared warriors.
Despite Fygthurn’s and Ogdurg’s ferocious appearances, they paled in comparison to the chiefs.
At the council, Fygthurn explained the odd timing of the executor’s early arrival. Then he said, “I wish to know how far the council would like us to push negotiations.”
“Give examples,” a chief requested. His words sounded like wind passing through a small portal. The whistle issued by passing through long fangs that projected from his jaw. During contests for dominance, more than one warrior had felt those fangs bite deep into flesh.
“My mate believes that the lack of reports from Jumanus might indicate a reason for the executor’s arrival,” Fygthurn replied.
“The Gorders and the Jumans are subdued,” another chief growled.
“They were,” Ogdurg replied. “But then why would our Jumanus commander fail to report?”
A chief stood apart from the council. Each half of his split tail ended in a snake’s head, and the reptilians hovered over the chief’s shoulders and regarded the negotiators with interest.
Fygthurn and Ogdurg knew the snakes to be venomous. More important, the chief didn’t always have control of the reptiles. They’d been known to strike at passersby. It was the reason this chief had never taken a mate.
“The Jumanus commander is competent,” the snake chief pointed out. “Absence of reports and the executor’s arrival suggests a land invasion.”
“My thinking,” Ogdurg responded.
The other chiefs nodded, growled, chuffed, or snarled in agreement.
“Any adversaries must be identified,” a chief directed, and Fygthurn tipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Should the negotiators bargain for an exploratory team or a full force attack?” a chief asked the others.
The response was divided, and Fygthurn accepted that as another condition to be negotiated based on the executor’s information.
“We’ve an opportunity,” the fanged chief whistled. “The negotiators can request the attack forces use energy weapons.”
The suggestion created uproar, and Fygthurn and Ogdurg prepared to abandon the council’s space.
This happened every now and then. The chiefs became contentious, and they turned on one another. Usually, the injuries weren’t life-threatening, but, in recent memory, a chief had been killed.
At the heart of the argument was the fact that the Radags had long ago invented energy weapons. They came in several sizes. The smallest could be worn on the hip or across the chest. The next larger size was a rifle. The third had to be mounted on a vehicle and was capable of demolishing a small building.
“The chiefs hunger for the old days,” Ogdurg whispered to her mate.
“If the executor’s problem is that great, the chiefs might see their wishes fulfilled,” Fygthurn replied.
The negotiators were discussing the annuals soon after the Krackus discovered Darmian. Naturally, the chiefs had considered the Krackus to be interlopers and sought to eject the Imperium fleet, only to have their ships swiftly destroyed.
However, Krackus fleet personnel who landed on Darmian to negotiate with the Radags were swiftly dispatched. There followed annuals of attempts by the Krackus to suborn the home world from above. Huge swaths of Radag civilization were destroyed. Still, the Radags refused to surrender.
During the war, some Krackus envoys were allowed to live. Their tasks were to teach the Radags the Krackus language and the race’s history. The Radags who learned the Krackus language became the first negotiators.
The Krackus, having encountered the same problem with other systems, saw a solution in the Radags. Imperium ships could rule space, but the Krackus were ill-equipped to take possession of the home worlds of highly contentious races.
Eventually, the Krackus reached an agreement with the Radag negotiators. The entire process was carefully orchestrated by the Krackus to prevent more of them falling into Radag hands.
At the time, the Krackus were aware that the Radags possessed energy weapons. They’d learned that hard lesson with the loss of the first shuttles to attempt landing on Darmian. However, this suited the executors’ plan for the Radags.
In the initial agreement, the Imperium offered to supply the material necessary to rebuild the destroyed cities, ships, and mining domes of the Radags.
The parties agreed to two operational phases. In the first phase, the Radags could employ energy weapons when landing on the targeted home worlds. After the race surrendered, the energy weapons were to be collected and held for the return to Darmian. Thereafter, the Radags would use edged weapons to protect the Krackus business elite, who landed on the planet to run their enterprises.
For the Radags, using their energy weapons freely against other races was an opportunity not to be missed, and the bargain had been sealed.
For centuries, Radag warriors lusted to be selected to participate in the wholesale slaughter of the resisting races. Happily, for the warriors, stubborn races often didn’t succumb easily. However, the Radags’ ruthless decimation of civilians often convinced the defenders that it was better to accept Krackus domination than see their populations decimated.
In the Radag invasion of Jumanus, the first transport dropping planetside with a load of warriors was plucked from the sky by Kelter. The Gorder’s enormous claws tore into the bow, killing the pilot and copilot. Then the transport tumbled into the sea.
The Radags hunted the Gorders in retribution for the loss of their warriors, and their energy weapons killed four of Kelter’s kind.
Accepting that Gorders couldn’t compete with the Radag warriors, Kelter negotiated a deal with the Krackus. He would surrender if the killing of the Gorders would stop.
The Krackus accepted Kelter’s proposal.
When Kelter surrendered, he received an injection, which he presumed would end his life. Instead, he woke up in a cold dark bay, with no way to exit the space. From the other incarcerated individuals, he learned that he was deep underground on an airless planet called Helgart.
After the chiefs’ fracas, they disbanded to attend to their wounds. Fortunately, none of the injuries were fatal.
The negotiators accepted their limited instructions, and they made their way home. Warriors, who were assigned to guard the premises, checked the negotiators’ transport before admitting them through the gates.
Cycles later, an Imperium shuttle landed on Darmian.
Fygthurn and Ogdurg observed the executor’s meeting rituals. They boarded the shuttle, which was devoid of passengers.
The pilot’s cabin was fortified. An energy rifle could have penetrated the door, but it would have killed the pilot and damaged the controls.
When the shuttle landed aboard Dakargk’s ship, the pilot remained in the cabin.
Fygthurn and Ogdurg divested their persons of every weapon, piling them on their seats. Then they exited the shuttle and approached the negotiation station. There were two sides to the station, which were separated by a transparent wall. Audio and voice pickups were the only means of exchange offered the parties.
Comfortable seats awaited the negotiators. When Ogdurg spotted water and food, she nudged her mate and subtly indicated the offering.
The message was clear to Fygthurn. The executor was being magnanimous, and the negotiations could be critical or protracted or, perhaps, both.
