New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Initializing counter-burn,” the computer said in her helmet.

Pirra shifted slightly in her seat, fighting back the nervousness before a mission.  It was a little stronger now than normal.  How could it not be, after that last mission?

At the same time she was also itching for a fight.

Ah, she thought.  The universal fight or flight response.

Anywhere there was a Darwinian biosphere – basically all of them – there was that trait.

There seemed little chance of a fight here, though.  Further scans showed the building as cold; no one was home.  They had a full complement of Guardian drones and scanner drones, and they’d be sending in scanners ahead of themselves to check for traps.

And this was their element.  They were espatiers, meant for space combat.  The moon was a body, but small enough to have only microgravity.  Perfect for them.

The counter-burn started, and her team were shoved in their seats hard as they were hit with ten Gs.  They were all braced, and no one fainted.

Her leg hurt, but she ignored it.  Her suit noted the spike and suggested a painkiller, but she ignored that, too.  They said the painkillers given on missions didn’t affect one’s thinking, but she always felt they did affect her, and she wanted a clear head.

“Impact in ten,” the computer said.

The G-forces were still intense, but decreasing marginally.  Still nine Gs, her system told her.

She took a series of sharp breaths, then held herself.  Blood was wanting to be pulled towards her back, but she kept her body tensed, preventing that as much as possible.

“Five seconds.”  They were down to six Gs, still a fight, but tolerable.

Four Gs.

Then two.

The counter-burn stopped, and they bumped just slightly as they landed.

“Landing successful,” the system said.

“All right, team, out and form up!  Cover every direction, remember we’re not on some mudball anymore!  It’s proper vacuum out there!”

“Aye!” her seven espatiers called.

Each member of the team had checked their gear before leaving, confirming all was sealed up.  The computer had checked them as well before transit, during, and even now.  But each member now checked each other as well – in an airless environment, it was always a good idea.

The doors opened, and they moved out in two lines, spreading out in twos to check all directions, and find cover.

They were in the crater, with the ragged canyon a hundred meters ahead.  Drones moved by them in carefully-coordinated swarms, spreading out and scanning every bit of surface as they moved.

Her eyes told her they were clear, and the drones said the same.

“Move out,” she ordered over the radio.

The almost zero-gravity here meant that they only needed to kick slightly off the surface to move forward.  Small thrusters on her shoulders hissed, pushing her back down so she didn’t end up flying high.  Other than that hiss, conducted through her suit, and her own breathing, it was silent.

After the last time, when their enemies had had extremely powerful jammers, this time they had better back-ups; infrared lasers that could beam communications directly between each member of the squad.  As long as there was line of sight, they could talk.

Team Two landed, two hundred meters off to their left.  Devilleneuve led his team out.

“Planting surface sensors,” Devilleneuve said to her over comms.

“Copy,” she replied.  While his team was planting the sensors that would let them get an idea of what lay under the surface, she took her team towards the structure in the canyon.

Reaching the lip of the crack, Pirra stopped and looked down.

It was a sheer cliff, the drop not dangerous in the low gravity – only an inconvenience.

They attached ropes to the edge of the cliff, so they could climb back up when they were done, and pushed off, heading down.

“Half a percent Earth gravity,” Kiseleva muttered over the radio.  “Might as well be zero.”

“Eyes on target,” Pirra said.

She let her thrusters maneuver her towards the wall, grabbing onto the rock and sliding down it to slow herself.  Before she landed on the building she came to a stop on a slight outcropping, while the rest of the team caught up.

They didn’t know if the building was rigged for pressure.  Drones confirmed there was nothing visual, at least.

“Scanning section,” Kiseleva called, holding a device to the edge of the building.  “I’m reading nothing,” she said after a few moments.

“It’s going to be empty,” Pirra said.  “Circle the edges, look for any entrances.”

“I can make one,” Kiseleva said.

“You will.  But I want to know if this place was even meant to be entered,” Pirra replied.

Kiseleva prepared to make a door while the rest of them searched.  A single entrance, a heavy airlock, was found, but it had no power.

“We’re down on the side,” Pirra called to Kisleva.  “Once your explosives are placed, come join us and we’ll blow it.”

Once she had joined them, Pirra gave the go-ahead, and they blasted a hole into the building.

They all waited, tensed, in case something happened.  The explosion could be felt through any surface they were touching, but they couldn’t hear it.

The breach hole was wide enough for one to go through easily, and Pirra went first, floating over the hole, and two others shoving her shoulders down.

Raising her rifle as soon as she was inside, she swept in all directions.

The building was mostly empty.  But not entirely.

“We’ve got some equipment,” she called.

Cutter’s voice came on the line.  “Closer.  Share feed.”

Pirra did so, sweeping her gaze slowly over the equipment.  It was huge, whatever it was.  Something . . . coiled?  It was hard to tell.

Reaching the floor, she pushed off a wall, heading around the huge piece, and then gasped.

“Sky, something had a meltdown in here,” she said.  Her eyes flickered to her radiation sensors, but there was no uptick in the readings.  “Confirm my rad sensors are working.”

“Confirmed,” Cutter replied.  “Drones detected no elevated levels of radiation.”

Pirra let out a breath.

Kiseleva came over.  “I think this was intentional damage.  An attempt to destroy and cover up, not an accidental meltdown.”

“I concur,” Cutter said.  “Very hastily done.  Very poorly.  Good for us.  Find anything intact – share feeds.”

“Copy,” Kiseleva replied.

“Secure this facility,” Pirra called out to her team.

It was a large building, but being so empty it did not take long to check it all.  There was no data storage, nothing complex except the single large, partially-melted device.

But they did find a sign on the wall.

“Commander,” Kiseleva called.  “You’ll want to see this.”

Pirra came over.

At first she thought it was some sort of art.  It had boxes imposed on a circle, and lines from each heading towards a single central box.

Then she saw that one of the boxes on the edges was marked out.

“You are here,” she realized.

“I think so,” Kiseleva said.  “This is only one of many.”

“Our scans didn’t find any others,” Pirra said.

Kiseleva shrugged.  “We could have missed them.  Or they might have been dismantled more thoroughly.”

Cutter’s voice came on again.  “Image confirms suspicions.  This facility makes little sense on its own.  But as part of a ring – can only be a zerodrive.”

“An asteroid-scaled zerodrive?” Pirra asked.  “For what purpose?  Omen isn’t a new moon.”

“Do not know,” Cutter said.  “But I am confident in conclusion.”

Suon’s voice came through the comms.  “We’ve found a computer hidden in a wall panel.  Nothing big, but it’s plugged into the main system here.”

“Is it on?” Kiseleva asked.

“No, it’s off.”

“We’re on our way,” Pirra said.

Suon spoke again, but his voice suddenly had a note of alarm.  “It’s turned on and it’s doing something!”

“Did you touch it?” Kiseleva demanded.

“I just- I barely-“

Pirra whirled, her system guiding her to Suon’s location.  Jetting over, Kiseleva right behind her, they looked at the computer.

The wall near the computer had a huge burn hole in it.  Kiseleva peered through it.

“The computer’s connection to the system had been damaged by debris,” she said.

“There was a cable that had come out,” Suon said.  “I touched it and it slipped back in.”

“It’s not a booby trap or we’d all be dead already,” Kiseleva muttered.  “So what is it doing?”

Pirra turned, looking around the room.

Something wasn’t right.  There was a hum in the floor that hadn’t been there before.  It was subtle, but growing stronger.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

Everyone froze, and she saw Kiseleva’s eyes widen.  They both realized at the same time, and looked at the huge damaged coil.

“It’s getting hot,” Pirra said.

“Yebat’,” Kiseleva spat.  “The people trying to hide these facilities didn’t dismantle them.  They sent them into zerospace.”

Pirra’s eyes widened.  “But this one had a failure . . .”

“And the computer just sent it an order to try again,” Suon finished.

“We can’t be near it when it opens the portal,” Kiseleva said quickly.

“Can we turn it off?” Pirra asked, moving in front of the computer.

“The power is building rapidly,” Kiseleva said quickly, scanning the computer.  “I don’t know what will happen if we break the connection.  But I know that that coil is already dangerous.  Look what it did last time.”

Pirra looked at the damage to the room.  They wouldn’t survive it, and if it was much more powerful this whole building wouldn’t survive.

“We’re moving out!” Pirra called on a channel to her team.  “Team Two, do you copy?”

There was no response.

“Kis, what’s going on?”

The floor was humming more and more.  Her team, she realized, hadn’t even all reacted to her order.  “Craton?” she called.  No answer.

“The zero field is messing up radio comms,” Kiseleva said, her voice coming through the direct infrared signal system.  “Line-of-sight communications only.”

“Get everyone else,” Pirra ordered Suon and Kiseleva.  “Then meet outside.”

It took them precious time to get the other five members of the squad.

“Up and out,” Pirra ordered.  One by one they all leaped up, passing through the hole they’d cut through the ceiling.

They had three lines coming down, and they leaped up to them, grabbing and jumping higher, using the ropes only to keep from falling back down.

As soon as Pirra crested the lip, she called out.  “Team Two, back to the shuttles now!”

The ground, she realized, was starting to rumble.

---

< Ep 12 part 46 | Ep 12 part 48 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The inside of the tent, with its equipment and the Union pragmatic aesthetic felt somewhat alien to Brooks.

Kai had let him know that there was a priority message from the Craton.  He’d come in as soon as he could.

Jaya appeared, her face serious.  “Captain,” she said.

He nodded.  “Is all well, Jaya?”

Her head lowered slightly, her eyes darting away.  “I must tell you what has happened.”

She told him about the discovery of the camp, the Response Team’s investigation, and their losses.

Brooks closed his eyes.  “Three dead?  These mercenaries must have been well-armed.”

“Yes, sir.  It was peer-level technology, and each individual was extremely well-equipped.  They were a well-trained unit with good fighting experience.”  She paused.  “We are fortunate that only three were lost.”

“How is Pirra taking it?”

“As well as an officer should,” Jaya replied.  “While I am sure this is difficult for her, she is ready to go back into action – and I believe safely able to do so.”

Brooks nodded.  “Now, tell me what we’ve learned about these mercenaries.”

She did so; about their group and known crimes, about the captured officer and his information, and finally her thoughts on it.

“The strange thing is,” she said.  “That we found no evidence of smuggling artifacts.  They are not even equipped with things one might expect.”

Brooks frowned.  “Show me their manifest of known equipment.”

The file came through, and Brooks skimmed it.  “I agree,” he said.  “I’d expect preservation equipment for perishables, cryo tanks, packing equipment, bulk cargo modules, and scientific equipment for cataloguing, the black market in research can’t be overlooked.  Then they’d need a launch platform for regularly bringing things out, as well as local transit.  It would take twenty tons of goods to break even on an expedition like this, and an ability to search far afield.”

Jaya paused, surprised at how much more thorough Brooks’s thoughts were on this than her own had been.

“So what were they doing here?” she asked.  “I cannot figure it out.”

Brooks leaned back.  “Investigate the moon.  If there are any clues there . . .”

She nodded.  “I feel it is worth the risk.  I will take the Craton as close in as I safely can.”

Brooks hesitated before speaking again.  “Do you feel confident enough to command this?  I could return-“

“No, Captain,” she said calmly but firmly.  “I feel every confidence in my ability to lead.  And your mission is important.”

He studied Jaya’s image for a few moments longer.  She was not a rookie; she was a seasoned officer.  He had never met a junior officer who he thought was more ready for command than she was.

“All right,” he said.  “Good hunting.”

---

< Ep 12 part 44 | Ep 12 part 46 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

It did not take the mercenaries long to flip.

They still might have had a case, Pirra thought.  Just because they knew it was Union people there didn’t mean that there wasn’t a right of self-defense, and some might even accept that an armed unit of espatiers was threatening.

But within the Union, it was a very slim chance.  They’d taken the better chance, of turning on their peers.

It was going to be close to see who flipped first, Pirra thought as she watched the recordings.  The legal AI gave its presentation of the evidence to the men at the same time, and some agreed to turn on their fellows before the recording was even finished.

Richard Amin was one of them.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he said.  “As long as the death penalty is off the table.”

Jaya had a chance to consider the offer.  “I’m going to accept it,” she told Pirra.  “Do you have any objection?”

Pirra was surprised that her opinion had been asked.  It seemed like something Captain Brooks might do.

She did want to see this man executed.  She knew she could be bloodthirsty that way.

But he’d still likely get a sentence of fifteen consecutive years for each death.

“It’s fine,” she said, thinking of Lal, Mac Mordha, and Zivai.

Jaya dialed in to Amin’s cell, still sitting in her large administrative chair that contained various equipment.

“We are willing to accept your plea,” Jaya said.  “You will tell us everything you know, and we will remove the possibility of the death penalty.”

“That’s all I ask,” Amin replied.  He still seemed controlled and calm.

A man who knew he was facing a long sentence, Pirra thought.  But someone who had always known it was a real possibility.

“You do understand,” Jaya said, “That you have not ruled out a mind-scanner.”

“I have,” Amin said.  “I knew you’d never accept me just on my word.”

“If I find what you say doubtful, I will be using the scanner,” Jaya promised.  “I may anyway, simply to confirm it.”

The man paled a little, but nodded.  Mind-scanners did exactly as advertised.  When combined with certain chemicals, a person’s mind and thoughts could be read.

It was almost completely harmless; there was no pain with the process.  There were no lasting changes to the person.

Yet faced with the reality of it, most people quailed.  No one liked the thought of having any thought in their mind exposed; any deed they might have done.  There was no lying, no twisting the facts.  And because of centuries of study on the technology, what answers it came to were legally accepted.

It was such a violation that its use was highly restricted.  No civilian could ever have it used on them.  For a criminal to use it on someone else carried some of the harshest penalties in the Union.  It was reserved for only the worst crimes and criminals, even banned in use during war among all known governments.

But this situation did fall within the requirements.

“Who was your employer?” Jaya demanded.

“I don’t know who we were working for,” Amin said.  “That’s pretty common in contracts.  Only the commander might have known, but in some cases only Centauri knows.”

“We’ll accept that answer for now,” Jaya said.  “What else?”

“Initially there was a lot of equipment at our site, but most of it was ferried out after two months.  I’d say the last of it was gone only a few days before the first Union ship arrived.”

“What was it for?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “We had some technicians with us for awhile, but we had very little contact with them directly.  We just provided security.”

Jaya sat back.  “Did your people harm any of the natives?”

The man swallowed.  “On several occasions we were required to demonstrate to the nearby alien settlements that they should not give us cause for harming them.”

Jaya frowned.  “I do not like the sound of this answer.”

The man hesitated, then said; “We executed some operations against the local population.  Whenever they got too curious, or in one case attempted to damage some equipment.”  He added after a moment; “But we were only operating under orders.”

“And do you think that helps?” Jaya asked.  “I am going to send you a report.  You will fill it out, and we will compare the notes against all the others who have also filled the reports.  We will do every bit of investigation we can of your logs, everyone’s logs.  So I hope you will realize that honesty is a . . .” Jaya paused.  “Requirement.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “How many were killed?”

The man stared at her, meeting her eyes.  There was no mercy on Jaya’s face, Pirra thought.  And in it a seriousness that demanded an answer.  Or she would bring out the mind scanner.

“At least two dozen,” he admitted quietly.

Jaya’s face tightened slightly, and the coldness in her eyes turned to heat.  “I see.  This is, as you may expect, an important matter.”

The man nodded, his composure breaking and the weight on him heavily now.  Attacking the Sapient Union was one whole level of stupid; but at least they could fight back.  The crimes against the locals was another that he knew would get him no mercy.

“I have something else,” he said.  “If I can get immunity for-“

“You cannot get immunity for that,” Jaya said.  “But your cooperation will be noted.”

“That’s not enough!”

“I can get the scanner,” Jaya said.  “And spend time thoroughly questioning you.”

“You need an in,” the man replied, a spark of defiance showing.  “Something to start with – the right question.  You won’t guess it.  Give me a concession.”

Jaya regarded him for a long time.  The man waited, but the quiet got to him.

“No heavy labor,” he begged.

“If your information proves relevant,” Jaya said slowly, “Then I will consider it.”

The man looked ready to protest, but his eyes went downwards, and he was thinking.  Jaya wanted this information, yes.  But he had to weigh that against the possibility that she was equally willing to let it go – or try her luck with the mind scanner, which would involve quite a lot of questions that might bring up things he did not want to share – like previous crimes.

“If you promise, on your honor, to give the information a fair consideration for its value,” he said softly.

Jaya nodded.  “I so swear.  What is your information?”

“There was another team,” he said.  “Up on the moon.”

Jaya let her curiosity show.  “What were they doing there?”

The man shrugged.  “I don’t know.  But . . . that team was still there more recently.  I doubt that they could have fully evacuated before the first Union ships got here.  If that was the case . . . well, I bet they buggered off as soon as they could when your ships were on the far side of the planet.”

Jaya did not seem very impressed.  “I see,” she said.  “To be honest, Richard Amin, that seems rather trivial.”

The man’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened, but Jaya terminated the connection.

She looked up to Pirra.  “This is interesting.”

“If true,” Pirra replied.

“We will go and see,” Jaya promised.  She looked at the man, who was muted now, but frantically talking.

“If he gives up anything else, let me know.  Otherwise, we shall let him stew until we see how much his information is worth.”

---

< Ep 12 part 43 | Ep 12 part 45 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Victor Devilleneuve, commander of Response Team Two, appeared as a hologram before her.

“Report,” Jaya ordered.

Pirra watched, sitting off to the side.  She’d rather not be sitting, she’d rather be doing something, but her leg was aching.  She hadn’t said it, but Jaya had noticed her limping; sitting had then become an order.

They’d been waiting hours, while Response Teams Two and Three conducted their forensic sweep of the combat zone.  Everything had been taken and would be analyzed; weapons, ammunition, equipment, bodies.  Anything could be the clue that might help them figure out what the hell these mercenaries were here for.

“We’ve found everything I think we can expect to find,” Devilleneuve said.  He was talking loudly, the cacophony of the nighttime jungle leaking through despite the acoustic scrubbing software.  “We found enough clues to suggest that the first and second in command of the company were in one of the bunkers that took a direct hit.  At first we didn’t think there could be anything useful left – but then we found this.”

From off-screen, someone handed Devilleneuve a helmet.  “We believe the commanding officer removed his helmet before entering the bunker.  When the kinetic spike hit, the helmet was flung away into the jungle.  While it still suffered damage, we were able to recover some data – including some partial communications that were still in the active memory.”

“Play them,” Jaya said.

The man nodded, and the file stream was sent.  The quality was poor, the audio damaged, parts recovered by AI.  But the words could be understood.

“-repeat, we have visual confirmation that it’s a Union Response Team.”  There was a pause, as if the man was listening.  “That’s right, they’re Union.  No mistaking it.  They landed a few hours ago, and now they’re about to enter our camp.”

Pause.

“No, we don’t know what they know.  Our camp is as hidden as it could be.  We can’t be invisible against high-quality scans.”

Pause again, longer.

“I am not picking a fight with the Sapient Union.  That’s just bad business.  I don’t know how many there are up in orbit.”

The man went quiet for a long time.  Whoever was talking to him was saying quite a lot.

“All right,” the voice said.

Then the line went dead.

“The second recording, made right after the first,” Devilleneuve said.

There were two voices this time.

“We’re going to attack.  No prisoners,” the commander ordered.

Another man’s voice, gruffer and deeper.  “Are you sure we want this fight?”

“We’re offered generous compensation,” the commander said.

“Yeah, but what good is that if we’re dead?” the second replied.  “There’s at least one ship up in orbit, and we can’t take that on.”

“We don’t need to worry about them,” the commander replied.

It ended, and Pirra looked at Jaya.

“There we go,” she said.  “We’ve got them.”

“Yes,” Jaya said.  “But who was he talking to?  Why couldn’t we hear them?”

“At first we were puzzled by that, too,” Devilleneuve replied.  “But then we discovered fragments of code within the helmet with security elements we couldn’t account for.”

“What do you mean?  Encryption on the helmet’s data?”

“No – something hidden on the helmet itself.  It was very well-guarded, even launching attacks in response to our attempts to crack it.”  The man shrugged.  “I turned it over to Commander Cutter, and he took a look at it.”

The Bicet appeared.  “Once defenses were breached, discovered self-deleting code.  Replaced itself with offensive programming.  But fragments of original code remained – enough to identify.”  Cutter paused, tilting his head.  “An AI was installed to mercenary’s helmet, without him knowing.  While he believed that he was communicating with client from afar, he was instead being controlled by AI within helmet.”

“Absurd,” Jaya said.  “How could he not figure this out?”

“AI was very cleverly programmed,” Cutter replied.  “Not perfect – but very good.  Offered generous rewards for completion of important objectives.  One such objective was, apparently, to protect their site at all costs.”

“But why?” Pirra asked.  “What was so valuable about it?”

“Unknown,” Cutter said.  “Equipment of unknown nature – but appearing to be data vaults – were found outside camp.  They had been thoroughly destroyed, leaving no trace data to rebuild.  We are without further clues.”

Cutter seemed antsy in a way Pirra hadn’t seen before; he was sitting back on his tail, all of his arms tapping together in a way that she knew denoted nervousness in Bicet.  His gaze was upwards, lost in thought.

Jaya seemed to be finding her thoughts, though.  “So it was only an AI that was assuring him not to worry about us.  Still . . .”  She trailed off.

“Commander, is there something else, sir?” Pirra prompted.

Jaya noticed how odd Cutter seemed.  “Commander, if you have more to say, please do so.”

“It is strange thing,” Cutter said.  His words were hesitant, slow.  “AI in helmet – expertly made.  Bears hallmarks of . . .”  He trailed off again.

“Yes?” Jaya prompted.

“It was made by Bicet,” Cutter finally said.

Jaya frowned.  “I fail to see the significance.”

“My people do not factionalize,” Cutter said.  “We are united.  We are all beings of the Union.  Who made this, then?”

“Perhaps it was just something more general, originally, then adapted for this mission-” Pirra began.

“No,” Cutter said.  His hologram turned.  “That is all, Captain.”

“Very well, thank you for your good work, both of you.  Get the teams back up to the Craton,” she added to Devilleneuve.

Jaya looked to Pirra.  “Let us go have another chat with our prisoners.”

---

< Ep 12 part 42 | Ep 12 part 44 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Pirra’s leg still hurt, even after it had been treated.

The wound hadn’t been that bad; the bullet had only nicked the bone, mostly just gouging an ugly canyon in the flesh of her leg.

One in a million shot, she thought.  Dessei limbs were very thin, much thinner than Human, Sepht, or Greggan limbs.  Humans often compared them to bird legs in that way, even if they didn’t bend backwards like an Earth bird.

She glanced at the time in her HUD.  It said that six hours had passed since the fight.

Fight, she thought bitterly.  It had been more like a massacre.

Nine alive, and three dead.  A quarter of her unit.  With the three wounded, they were at half strength.

She’d been brought back up to the Craton with the rest of her unit, while Response Teams Two and Three continued their investigation on the surface.

They’d also brought up ten of the mercenaries, the survivors.  There had been thirty-six of their company originally, but the Craton‘s bombardment had killed the majority.  Her team had only accounted for a single enemy – the one Suon had picked off before their Guardian drones had fully deployed.

Response Team One would all be dead if not for that orbital support.  They’d walked into a trap, and been cut down.

No, she corrected herself.  Three people had paid for her mistake.  Jack Lal, Niamha Mac Mordha, and Sabah Zivai.

She wasn’t feeling sorrow yet.  She was going to take more time than this to process what had happened, and for now she could still function on her training.

She glanced down at her cum of stimulant; it was still hot, steam rising from its surface.  Her people had never had an equivalent to those human “miracle drinks” like coffee or tea.  It held almost a religious, mystical power to them.  But they’d shared the idea of stimulants, and her people had made their own.

She sipped hers.  It was better than trying to sleep and failing.

The door opened, and an aide leaned in.  “The Captain says that you can come in.”

Pirra brushed past him, into the other room.

Jaya was standing there, surrounded by a handful of aides, all watching a man in a chair.

It was one of the prisoners.  He was a tall, broad man, with tanned skin and reddish blonde hair that he had cut on the sides.  A large, but neat beard covered the lower half of his face.

He was not shackled or otherwise restrained.  He appeared mostly unhurt, save for the stump of his left leg, covered with a plastic cap.  The medical unit was already preparing the stump for a new leg – either cloned or mechanical.

The man was not really present with them; he was a projection, a live feed from his cell.

This was much better than the face-to-face meetings that that madman on Gohhi had insisted on, Pirra thought.  The prisoner’s cell could be kept safely sealed, no need for a restraint suit.  With no one present with him, there was no possibility of hostages – or even the idiotic attempt at taking them.

It also meant that she could come right up to his face and look at it, study the eyes of the bastard who had killed three of her people.

His insignia marked him as one of the squad commanders, the highest-ranking officer that had survived from the mercenary group.

Right now, he was talking to the interrogator AI, which was simply asking him basic questions.  It was the only one he could see.

“What is your name?”

“Richard Amin,” the mercenary said.  His face looked completely calm.

Pirra knew he could not see her; she could dial into the call, with permission, and appear as a holographic image in his cell if she wanted.

She would ask.  But not yet.

“You seem very calm about losing your leg,” the AI asked him.  It presented as a pure-white robot, similarly to Y.  But the machine lacked personality, interests outside of its job, and any real qualities that made it more than a very, very smart machine – at least so far.

“Have we identified his group?” Jaya asked.

One of her aides answered.

“We’ve identified them as being members of Centauri PMC, a broad company that includes thousands of chapters across known space.”

“I’ve heard of Centauri,” Pirra said.  “They’re just an umbrella group.”

“That’s right,” the aide said.  “Centauri just sells their name and covers the legal and financial side of things; beyond that, each unit keeps its own standards on jobs and gear.”

He nodded to the man.  “This particular chapter call themselves the White Hands.”

“White Hands,” Jaya repeated.  “They are famed for being unscrupulous, as I recall.”

“Yes, Captain,” the aide replied.  Pirra looked at him, and his name popped up; Vittorino De Luca.  The man seemed efficient.

“The White Hands are wanted for numerous crimes on Union borderspace, and even in Gohhi.  They are among the seven groups accused of the Great Breaching of Station 12211, which caused over three hundred civilian deaths.”

“Then we have enough to hang him with,” Pirra said.

“Perhaps not,” De Luca replied.  “It’s shady ground, as the White Hands have always denied involvement in the incident, and this one mentioned that he had only joined the outfit two years ago.  That crime took place three years ago, and we have no access to the evidence.  We can’t tie him specifically to any crimes.”

Pirra’s crest rose.

“Prior to this event,” De Luca hastily added.

“Calm, Pirra,” Jaya said.  She went back to looking at the man.  “Has he said anything of use?”

“Not really.  He’s holding back for a real person, I think,” De Luca said.

“Then let us play along,” Jaya replied.  “Pirra, dial in with me.”

Pirra was surprised to be invited in.  She was more than happy to be involved with the interrogation.

The appearance of the two women, even Jaya with her Captain’s insignia, did not garner any fear in the man.  His eyes flickered to Pirra’s leg, and she realized that their injuries mirrored each other, though he’d come out poorer for it.

He still said nothing.

“Amin,” Jaya said.  “I am the Captain of this vessel.”

“All right,” the man replied.  “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Not in a military force we recognize,” Jaya replied calmly.  “Tell me why you fired upon my people.”

The man shrugged.  “Self-defense.  We saw a heavily-armed unit moving into our camp, and we defended it and ourselves.  That’s within interstellar law for unsettled systems.”

Jaya ignored the ‘education’ of interstellar law.  “Did you not see that they were wearing Union uniforms?” she asked dryly.

“People can wear any uniform they like.  We didn’t expect Union forces out here, so we just assumed they were scavenged.”

“You didn’t see the ships in orbit?” Pirra asked.

“No,” the man said.  “We didn’t even have a long-range communicator or sensors that could pick up a ship.”

A message appeared in Pirra’s HUD, from De Luca.  No transceiver was found.  Could have been destroyed, or he could be telling the truth.

“How long were you there?”

“We were put on the planet eleven months ago.  We were hired to hold this camp for a period of six months-“

“You’ve been there a year, but were just hired for six months?” Pirra asked.

“Initially, yes,” the man admitted.  “We were supposed to be brought out months ago, replaced with another team, but they never arrived.  Supplies kept coming in, though.  We were then told by our commander that the relief team had backed out last-minute, and our term was being extended with extremely generous bonuses.  So we stayed.”

There were buried caches of used supplies that would support the claim of a stay of one year, De Luca added.

“Who hired you?” Jaya asked.

“I don’t know,” the man replied.  “And if I did I wouldn’t be at liberty to say.”

“You’ll answer our questions,” Pirra snapped.  “You’re a murderer in custody, you don’t have any protection for your secrets.”

“It was legal self-defense by interstellar law.  Even your Union recognizes the right to self-defense!” the man interrupted.  “What would you have done in our situation?”

Pirra fought back her urge to yell at the man.  If she did not keep her cool, Jaya would have her taken out of the interrogation, and she didn’t want that.

She just wanted to see these bastards burn.

He wasn’t wrong that there were provisions for self-defense, especially in unclaimed space.  It might even support their position, if they truly felt threatened.

“You did not even attempt to communicate,” Jaya pointed out.

“Again, your people were armed.  We didn’t know how many you were.”  He shrugged again.  “It’s an unfortunate misunderstanding.  But there’s only ten of us left now, so I’d say you came out ahead.”

Pirra kept quiet now.

Jaya leaned back.  “So your defense is that you were simply hired to guard this camp, and when you saw people in Union uniforms come in, you executed that order.”

“Yes,” the man said.

“What is the camp for?” Jaya asked.

“I don’t really know,” the man said.

“We can extract the information if necessary,” Jaya told him.

“Waste of effort.  I wasn’t privy to the important information, like our employer or what they wanted with the camp,” Amin replied.

“Did you interact with the local !Xomyi population?” Jaya asked pointedly.

“We discouraged them from coming near,” Amin replied evenly.  “No more violence than was necessary.  We’re not monsters.”

His eyes went to Pirra for a moment, then back to Jaya.

Jaya looked to her as well, then disconnected them both from the call.

Pirra watched the Captain expectantly, waiting for what the plan would be.

“Now we wait,” Jaya said.

“For what?” Pirra asked.

“For the results of the investigation on the surface,” Jaya replied.  She turned, leaving the room, her aides trailing behind.

Pirra looked back to Richard Amin, who was now drinking water.  He still looked calm, but there were beads of sweat on his forehead.

Good, she thought.  Let him be afraid.

---

< Ep 12 part 41 | Ep 12 part 43 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The cluster of rocks were good cover, Pirra thought.

The fact that they were good cover meant they were also obvious; anyone watching with a military mindset would know this was the best spot for someone to set up.

Whoever had created the camp nearby must have noticed the Craton in orbit by now.  Or the diplomatic carrier.  The fact that they hadn’t sent any messages made it very likely that whatever they were up to was not something the Union would smile upon.

Smugglers, most likely, she thought.  Goods from a people about to be destroyed would be very valuable to certain collectors; valuable enough to even justify an entire expedition just for them.

They must be armed; the local lifeforms were too dangerous not to be.

“Suon,” she ordered.  “Up in that tree.  Give us overwatch.”

The tree was huge and squat, its base probably ten meters in diameter, and its branches only started three to four meters up, with a massively sprawling canopy.

Suon climbed up it easily, nestling in between some of the bigger branches for concealment.

“Kis, report,” Pirra asked.

“Signs of recent occupation,” Kiseleva replied.  “Scans show no life signs, human or !Xomyi.  Some of their devices were on until recently, they are still warm.”

Still warm . . . so they were still here.  At least some of them.

“Disposition of the camp?”

“General survival equipment, high-quality civilian market stuff,” Kiseleva said.  “I see no sign of arms.”

“What about artifacts?”

“There are sealed crates, could be anything.  Nothing else that is obvious.”

“How many occupants?”

“Some tents may have been taken down recently, but based on what the drones see, I suspect between ten and twenty.”

It was basic information, but they had a limited supply of drones.  It would take sending people in there to learn more.

The people from the camp were likely out in the woods, probably alerted by passive sensors if they hadn’t noticed the spaceplane landing.  They were probably watching.

Trouble from them they could handle, but only if she played it right, she thought.

They had guardian drones that could intercept enemy fire, but they were also doubling as their eyes and ears out there.  If she pushed them out to look for these unknown people, they’d be vulnerable.  They probably had large-caliber rifles like she’d issued to some of her people, and anyone hit by those . . . well, it wouldn’t be pretty.

So it was probably better to keep the drones in.  Big rounds could be intercepted well by guardian drones.

Most likely the people in the camp wouldn’t fire unless provoked.  Pushing the drones out might easily push them to that.

“Fire Team Three,” she radioed.  “Investigate that camp, find out what these people were doing.  Open some of the crates, look for relevant equipment, personal logs – anything like that.  Keep your eyes open.  We’ll be giving overwatch.”

“Copy,” Sergeant Hesson said.  “Mac Mordha, Zivai, Guoming, you’re with me.”

The team slipped off down the rocks, moving around to come out from another angle on the camp.

“Team two, be ready to move in for support if need be,” Pirra ordered.

She sent the majority of drones in with Team Three, covering them.

“Entering the camp,” Hesson said.  “Found a personal tent.  Just two cots.  Some sealed containers . . . some trash inside, nothing else.”

The team moved deeper, fanning out in twos.  “Found what may have been the communications tent,” Mac Mordha said.  “There’s basic stuff, but from the marks on the ground, they had bigger things in here.  Much bigger.  I don’t know what would have needed this much space except something like an interstellar transceiver . . .”

The fact that there were still the impressions told Pirra that they had cleared that out in a hurry.  They must have some equipment around to move things that big – exoskeletons or hauling sleds.  But those were not in sight.  So where were they hiding them?

“I think we found the mess tent,” Hesson called.  “This was big . . . we thinking ten or twenty?  I think it might have been twice that.”

Pirra’s heartbeat picked up.

“Any sign of who it was?” she asked.

“No insignia, no identifiers.  This is high-quality civilian stuff that could be used for military purposes.  Wait – there’s some food packages left.  Looks like . . . humans, mostly.  Some Greggan meals.  And Jervai!”

Jervai . . . they were an isolationist species, mostly peaceful.  But a notable percentage of their male population had a wanderlust – and bloodlust – that often led them to leave their space and take up jobs that could feed their interest.  Big game hunters, mercenaries, soldiers.  They were usually among the more elite that could be hired.

“All right,” Pirra said.  “Finish up your pass quickly, I don’t like this-“

The connection cut out.  Errors flashed in her HUD.

Then the firing started.  Her system screamed extra warnings, the Guardian drones were flying up, their flak fire intercepting shots.  Others hit their cover, sending chips of rock flying through the air.

She felt a pounding on her shoulder.  It was Kiseleva.

Pirra saw her mouth working behind her mask, and her system turned the lip movements into a neutral, generated voice in her ear.

“Our signals are being jammed,” Kiseleva called.

Pirra popped her faceshield, the heat and humidity of the planet hitting her hard.  For a moment she gasped for air, but then took a deep breath and yelled as loud as she could.

“SHIELDS OPEN!”

In moments, everyone had joined her, opening their face shields so they could hear her.  Kiseleva was making hand gestures, looking up into the tree.  He couldn’t have heard Pirra’s yell, but he must have seen, as she heard him call out, a single wordless yell to let her know he had his shield open.

“Team Two, move in, get Team Three out of there!  Team One, provide cover!” Pirra ordered.  Sergeant Bascet was watching her, and the realization that now he had to lead the squad against this unknown threat hit him harder than any of the flying bullets.

His face went through shock, fear, all of the emotions that one did not want to see on an officer in action.  He did not move up, but froze in place.

Sky, the man was locking up now, of all moments.  She had to put things back in Jack Lal’s hands, concussion be damned.

“Jack!” Pirra called.  The man dove down next to her.

“Take Team Two in,” she ordered him.

“All right!” Jack yelled, starting to rise.  “Okay, team, we’re moving-“

Before he finished the sentence, his head was gone.  Only his lower jaw remained, attached to his neck.

His body seemed to fall in slow motion forward, onto the rocks.  Pirra looked up in a daze, and saw that Jack Lal hadn’t even exposed himself to fire.  But a shot, that had to be from a coilgun, had punched straight through the rock.

Whatever weapon had killed Lal would take time to recharge, but she had to get them ready for that next shot.

“SPREAD OUT!” Pirra yelled.  “KEEP COVER AND RETURN FIRE!”

She rolled to the side, down the boulder, her feet hitting the soft mud.  There was a slight dip in the Earth, curving away downhill, that would give them some cover.  If they pulled back into the forest, they’d have nothing but the trees.

Her squad fanned out, keeping down below the lip of earth, using boulders where possible to grab cover between themselves and the source of enemy fire.  The crack of rifles, her unit shooting out blindly, filled the air.

Suon fired from up in the tree.  “Target down,” the call came, his voice completely calm.

“Share feed!” Pirra called to her system.  “Secondary sources!”

Their systems had alternate ways of communications than just radio.  She heard brief, hypersonic squeals, tugging at the edge of her hearing.  Humans couldn’t hear them at all, and the sound would die off quickly in the jungle, making it spotty as members of her team went out of line of sight.  But it was what she had to work with.

She got all the data the squad could feed her, amalgamating everything they saw to get a picture of the situation.

Flashes in the distant trees on the other side of the camp showed the locations of shooters, but they were firing and moving – the same as her team were doing.  Data streams cut in or out and the data they fed on targets shifted as her squad moved.

She saw that Bascet was moving, but tentatively, in shock.  He was firing, but staying back, making no movement forward.

There was a bright flash, as a concealed heavy coilgun fired out from across the clearing.  It tore through a tent and hit a rock, near where she had been.  It tore through the boulder like it was nothing and went on, into the forest.

“They have their own drone screen!” someone yelled.  “Regular fire is ineffective!”

Suon fired again, she heard the sharp crack of his rifle.  But he didn’t have a coilgun of his own; his heavy-bore weapon was effective against a large creature, but its large, slower-moving bullet was an easy target for enemy guardian drones.

She heard yelling, then.  Almost inaudible over the din of fire.

“WE’RE COMING!  WE’RE COMING!”

Pirra risked a glance over the top, firing off a few shots towards the enemy.  Return fire ripped into the space where she’d been a moment earlier, but her system had gotten a glimpse; Team Three, racing through the tents back to their position.

“COVERING FIRE!” she called out.  Her team all popped out, pouring fire onto the enemy.

Najafi cried out.  “I’m hit!”  He went down, still moving, hand on his shoulder.  Someone rushed to him.

Pirra popped up, moving and firing off shots blindly, aiming slightly high to make sure she didn’t hit her own team.  Risking a glance up, she saw that Mac Mordha was limping, being carried along by Guoming.  Mac Mordha’s face was a blanched white, blood running all down her front.

Zivai had stopped, snapping off a shot, but then two puffs of red came out of him, he jerked, and fell.  He did not move.

He must have cried out, as Guoming turned suddenly to look.

“Go, go!” Sgt. Hesson cried, firing behind him as he ran.

Then the round hit Mac Mordha, punching out a red mist on her side that came through the other.  Guoming’s knees gave out, and as she fell Pirra could see her face frozen in a shocked ‘oh’ as the round over-penetrated into her side.

But she was still moving as she hit the ground, and Hesson stopped, grabbing her arm and trying to drag her along with him.

“Niamh!” Guoming yelled, reaching for the woman she had been carrying.  Her entire side was covered in blood, her and Niamh’s both.

“She’s already dead!” Hesson yelled back.

They weren’t going to make it, Hesson wasn’t pulling her fast enough, Pirra realized.  There were tents between them and the enemy, but they probably had scanners that could give them an approximate location.

Pirra dug her hands into the soil and shoved off.  Yells came from behind her, and she knew what she was doing was fatally stupid, the wrong move.  But she raced out, grabbing Guoming’s other arm, helping Hesson drag her along until they reached her line.

Every moment the thought shot through her mind; she was about to be hit.  A bullet could come for her.  She’d left the protective envelope of their Guardian drones.

They dived back behind the rocks.  Pirra shook as she realized that she hadn’t been hit.

“Help her!” she ordered Hesson, her training working automatically, despite her shock.

Turning, she looked up and down the line.

Kiseleva was running towards her, and dropped down next to her.  For a moment Pirra thought she’d been hit, but no – she had only thrown herself down.

“We still don’t have comms, and they’re moving to flank us on both sides,” she said.

Pirra looked up.  No comms meant they couldn’t call up to the Craton.  But they didn’t have to have a radio for that.

“Keep the unit firing and moving.  If we have to pull back the way we came, we’ll have no cover.  We have to hold position.”

“What are you going to do?” Kiseleva asked.

“Call the sky,” Pirra said.

---

< Ep 12 part 39 | Ep 12 part 41 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Jaya would rather not have been called over to the carrier at a time like this, but the opportunity had been unexpected.

“Some of the !Xomyi people we have brought up from the surface have agreed to meet with you, Captain.  You should come soon – they have a different sense of timing than we do, so they may change their minds if they are kept waiting for too long.”

She had been hoping to meet some of the !Xomyi for weeks, but the situation, especially with those who had already agreed to leave their world, was tense.

The Craton and the carrier kept a good distance between them; with two such large ships, a minimum of fifty kilometers was standard.

The shuttle trip was not long, but she found herself antsy.  Diplomacy was not her strongest skill, and a poorly-known alien mind under great stress would test anyone.

Research-Major Nkosi and Ambassador-General Abashidze were both present to meet her.

“Greetings,” she said.

“This way, please,” the ambassador told her.  “I know you have been wishing for this meeting for some time,” she said, without preamble.  She appeared tired and in a hurry, Jaya thought.  “May I ask why?”

They began walking, wasting no time.

“I would like to meet some of the minds we work to save,” Jaya told her.  “I understand it is difficult.  If the timing is poor . . .”

“This is the best it’s going to be,” Nkosi said.  “We have stabilized the stress levels of this group.  They do have an interest in meeting other humans, though we have tried to be very careful.”

“Of infection?” Jaya asked.

“Of stressors of all kinds,” he replied.  “We are scientists, but our knowledge of !Xomyi psychiatrics is a new field, with no experts.  Modelling of their minds has not been as useful as hoped, due to how differently their recent lifestyle has been in comparison to our own – and from each other.”

“I thought they were all hunter-gatherers,” Jaya said.

“Most of them,” Abashidze answered.  “But there are a few semi-sedentary agriculturalists.  Even when the mode of production is the same, however, the specifics vary hugely.  Those near the coast eat an entirely different diet than those from plains or forests.”

“I see,” Jaya said, wondering just how much they could really differ.  They could synthesize a wide range of foods in a properly set up lab, so why should it be different if they were eating clams or grain?

The carrier was a massive vessel, and they boarded a tram to take them deeper.  After several minutes, Abashidze got a call.

“I must excuse myself,” she said.  “We’re having a problem.  Major, would you please take our guest on?”

“Of course,” Nkosi replied.

“What is occurring?” Jaya inquired.

“There is a fight among two groups of !Xomyi,” Abashidze replied, distractedly, still looking at a feed into her HUD.

“I thought different groups were being kept apart?” Jaya asked.

“That is the plan, though these two groups were related neighbors, so we had hoped . . .”  She blanched.  “Computer, increase travel speed!”

“What’s happened?” Jaya asked.

Abashidze did not reply.  The doors opened, and she stepped out, a scene of madness beyond.  Jaya could see no !Xomyi, but many aides and other Union personnel, running, and a group in armor hurrying towards a set of heavy doors.

Jaya looked to Nkosi, demandingly, as the doors began to close.  She put her hand up, stopping them, and stepped out.

Nkosi hurried up next to her.  “Captain, this is not-“

“What is going on?” she demanded.  When he hesitated, she narrowed her eyes.  “I am a ranking officer on this expedition.  I need to understand.”

“I believe that one !Xomyi has wounded another,” Nkosi finally said, his face flat.  “I . . . I think he is dead.”

Jaya was rocked.  “How did he get a weapon?”

“They carry their stone tools.  Many refuse to part with them for cultural reasons.  Thus . . .”

“They’re still armed,” Jaya said.

“Come,” Nkosi said.  “This is not the group we brought you to meet.  They are still waiting.”

The rest of the trip passed quickly.  The level they came out on was superficially the same as the last, but far calmer.  Stepping out, an aide took them to the airlock door.  Inside, they were cleaned, and finally allowed into the !Xomyi living area.

The air in here was denser, heavier, though her system said it was a compromise between an Earth-standard atmosphere and that of Ko.  It was also warmer – hot, even, though only by ship standards.

The room was huge; it was two floors in height, with sparse, fake trees across the area.  A clear path through them led to a small cluster of hovels, which seemed to be made of long poles, covered with animal skins.  The skins had been worked, being a uniform yellowish color, and on them in red paint were complicated symbols.  No two had the same pattern.

A group of !Xomyi were in the center of the huts, and looked up as they came into the area.

They were distinctive from others in images she had seen.  Their fur had been dyed red in parts, the same shade as on their huts.  White had been mixed in some, and as they stood, she could see that the adults did not have the remnants of wing flaps.  Perhaps ritually removed?

“You are welcome in our home,” one of the !Xomyi said.  His voice was deeper, and Jaya’s system identified him as Speaks With Sky, seemingly the leader of this group.  He had a black top knot of either hair or feathers, clearly from some animal, coming from the top of his head.  In his hands was a baton of some kind.  It was carefully carved, with images of !Xomyi faces – and at the top, a likeness of a human face.  It was heavily stylized, and Jaya found it very interesting to see how they viewed her kind.

“I thank you for your kindness,” Jaya said, offering a polite bow.  Speaks With Sky did not seem to know what to make of the movement, glancing at his fellows before back to her.

“This is a way we show respect,” Nkosi said, emulating Jaya’s bow.

Speaks With Sky seemed to accept that, His eyes closing slightly.  Her system told her this was a form of acceptance.

His eyes were smaller than most !Xomyi, she noted.  Being descended from nocturnal animals, most had large eyes still.

This group must come from a place where there is less shade, and smaller eyes are a minor change in their features to adapt, she thought.

“Sit by our fire,” Speaks With Sky said, gesturing.  “I am told you are friend to us.”

“I am,” Jaya said, sitting.  She looked to the others, but Nkosi leaned over to whisper in her ear.  “He is the speaker for this group.  Do not acknowledge anyone else unless they talk.”

“As a friend, then, I offer you a gift,” Speaks With Sky said.  He offered to her the baton.

Nkomi stiffened next to her, but she reached out automatically.  “I thank you again,” she said, eyes flickering to the researcher.

As she took the baton, Speaks With Sky put his hand on hers.  It was only a touch, but the feel of his rough and wrinkled skin was surprising.  It was warmer than a human hand.

He let go, and she took the baton.

“I ask you now for a gift,” Speaks With Sky said.

Jaya had an uneasy feeling.  “If it is in my power, I will give it.”

“Good,” Speaks With Sky said.  “We have spoken,” he continued, gesturing to the others around him.  “When we came, we were two tens.  Now, we are less than one ten.”

Jaya recoiled slightly, glancing to Nkosi.  “What has happened to your people?” she asked.

“We met your son,” Speaks With Sky said.  Jaya was confused, until a message from Nkosi came up in her HUD, hastily written.

“Gifts require reciprocity,” it said.

“My son?” she asked aloud, pointedly.

Another message; “son is generic; young man”.

“Yes.  He is the one who told us of the coming trouble.”  Speaks With Sky said.  He leaned back, closing his eyes.  “Long it was foretold.  When he came, we felt the prophecy had come to pass.”  His eyes opened.  “But now we understand that we were wrong.  He was not the one who would bring us to safety.  He was the Liar, who misled us.”

Jaya had had a bad feeling as soon as he’d mentioned a prophecy.  Such immaterial things were far too easily stirred to one side or another, to madness as well as mission.

“I am sorry you think so.  However, there is a disaster coming to your world.”

“Since following your son, we have lost over ten of our number.”

“Why did they die?” Jaya asked again.

“Your son-“

“I understand that.  But my . . . son did not slay them.  What was the specific manner of their death?”

The words must have been lost in translation for a time.  These !Xomyi had been given ear implants, like everyone else in the Union, that translated her words into their language.  But that didn’t mean their language had the same sorts of specifics.

After a time, Speaks With Sky spoke.  “They grieved.  They grieved for a lost home, and ceased to eat and drink.  Their spark dwindled, and then they were gone.”

Jaya leaned back.  “What is it you want to ask me for?”

“We wish to return to our old homes,” Speaks With Sky asked.

“If you do, you will all die,” Jaya said.

Nkosi suddenly spoke up.

“She means the disaster will befall you all.”

Speaks With Sky glanced at him, then back to her, but he was stony-faced.

“Your words needed clarification not to be a threat,” he said to Jaya softly.

“You may speak out of turn,” she told him.  She looked to Speaks With Sky.  “He represents his people.  My people are different, and I speak for them.  We are three speakers, not two.”

Speaks With Sky did not seem to like that, and still did not want to look to Nkosi.  “You have my request.”

Nkosi said nothing.  Jaya had a feeling that, despite what she’d said, if he spoke out of turn again it would make things worse.

“It is difficult, your request,” she said slowly.  “I may not have the power to grant it.  But I will try.  You must give me time.”

Speaks With Sky was silent for a long time, then he gave a single, sharp nod.

With that, he turned away.

The audience was clearly ended, and Jaya rose.  She and Nkosi made their way to the airlock.

The room was an incredible reproduction, she thought.  It almost looked natural.  But how could it possibly fool people who knew every plant, every tree, every animal and type of rock, with the combined knowledge and culture of countless lifetimes?

Was it any wonder they were unhappy?

Stepping through the airlock, Nkosi spoke again.  “I apologize, Captain, I did not expect that he would ask-“

“It’s fine,” she said.  “I know you would not have sprung such a thing on me intentionally.  But what has happened to his people?  Why are so many dying?”

“They feel they are caged,” Nkosi said.  “I have told them that this is only temporary, but their conception of time is very immediate.”  He shook his head sadly.  “They are among the worst-afflicted, though the survivors bear it well.”

“How many are dying overall?” Jaya asked, shocked.

“The range of death varies from 18 -55%.  Many simply fall into a deep depression, or shock, and pass away.  It is worse amongst the groups who were brought here under circumstances they feel dishonest.  And worst of all are those who were sedated-“

“Sedated?” Jaya asked sharply.

“Yes.  In a handful of instances, field leaders have made the call to have a group sedated and transported up without their permission.  It is a barbarity, I feel – but even if the majority die, some believe it is still the right thing to do, as then some will survive.  If they stay . . .”

They would all die, Jaya thought.  There would be no more of their people, no descendants, no one with even a memory of their people.  No traces, no artifacts or structures of them would even survive the moon crash.

It would be as if they had never existed.

She could see why some would make such a call.  But the scars from such an act would last for generations, if they would ever go away at all.

“What do we do about this request to return?” she asked.  “I do not want to lie to them, but I do not want to send them back to their deaths, either.”

Nkosi took a deep breath.  “They do have the right to die, if they wish.  But all we can do is stall – and hope they change their mind.”

There was no easy answer.

“I do not know how,” she said.  “But they must have hope.”

“This is not something that has escaped us,” Nkosi has said.  “But we-“

An alarm came up on Jaya’s HUD.

“Response Team One is approaching the target site.”

“Thank you for allowing me to meet with the !Xomyi,” she told Nkosi.  “But I must get back to my ship.”

---

< Ep 12 part 38 | Ep 12 part 40 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Finding an open area large enough for the RP-1 to land proved the most difficult part after that.

The best spot they could locate was almost ten klicks from the site they were investigating.

They may not be worldsloggers, Pirra thought, but her espatiers weren’t afraid of a little walking.

Mwanajuma took care of Lal’s concussion, declaring him fit for service.

“Good,” Pirra told him.  “You would just have to wait in the ship anyway.”

“The Responsemobile,” he corrected absently.

“We’ve got ten klicks of ground to cover,” she said to the team, ignoring his comment.  “Let’s get what we need and get moving.”

They had two Mobile Utility Carrier Units with them, quadrapedal drones just a little bigger than a person that could carry half a ton of equipment over any terrain a person could traverse.  They were little more than legs and a flat surface to strap things to, and standard kit for worldsloggers, though relatively novel for espatiers.

“Oh man, I love these guys,” Jack Lal said.  “Who’s a good Muckie?” he said, patting the machine’s sensor-head.

“I am!” the MUCU replied happily, letting out a purr.  They were all programmed to have slightly different personalities, which helped troops to bond with them.  Pirra was amused to see that this one was more affectionate than most, and it leaned into Jack Lal lightly as he pretended to scratch it where the ears would have been on a dog.

“Don’t give it a name or you’ll end up keeping it,” Kiseleva said, amused.

“Too late, he’s Muckie,” Jack Lal replied.

“I love you,” Muckie said, leaning against him again.

Pirra sighed.  “Just get them loaded up.”

Their gear for planetside was different from what they used on-ship.  The rifles were longer, and owing to the larger fauna on the surface, each fire team had been issued one larger-bore hunting rifle.

“Suon, Zivai,” she said.  “Take these.”  Second fire team needed one, but didn’t have a designated Marksman.  She glanced at the records, saw that Kessissiin scored highest in it for the group.  “Here,” she added, giving him one.  “Are you familiar with a big-bore?”

Kessissiin studied the rifle.  “I’ve been trained,” he said, a puff of pride in his voice.

“Lal,” Pirra called.  “Are you up to commanding your team?” she asked.

The man hesitated.  It was answer enough.  “Lal, you’re in my team, swap with Najafi.  Bascet, you take charge of team two.”

Jack seemed unhappy about it, but accepted the move without protest.  “It’s not permanent, right?” he asked.

Pirra didn’t answer, just gave him a slight smile.  “Depends how much you annoy me.”

They set out.  The jungle was dense, but drones went ahead of them, flailing razor-thin carbon wires to slice a path.  It was still rough going; the roots of trees, pits of mud, sharp rocks, and sudden pitfalls slowed them considerably.

Pirra had hoped they could cover this ground in less than two hours, but at this rate it might take them twice that.

“Is this like the jungles of Enope?” Kiseleva asked her with a grunt, hopping a log.  “I’ve heard much about them.”

Pirra was already past the log, scanning the horizon.  They had picket drones out, but she still wanted to watch for large lifeforms.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I’ve never been to any of Enope’s jungles.  From the holos and films, it’s similar in the way that all jungles are . . . but I think things on Enope have more color.”

“There aren’t any flowers here, are there?” Kiseleva noticed.  “Perhaps they have not evolved yet.”

“They may never,” Pirra replied.  “Even if the moon wasn’t falling.  Evolution can lead to similar outcomes in similar situations, but we can’t make the mistake of assuming it will always follow the same steps.”

Jack Lal hurdled the log.  “What are we talking about?” he asked.

“I was asking if these jungles were like those of the Commander’s homeworld,” Kiseleva said.

“She’s not going to know anything about the jungles,” he replied with a laugh.  “Her mom’s a big wig, she wasn’t allowed outside.  I dunno if you know much about Dessei politics, but kidnapping is still-“

“Lal!” Pirra snapped.  “Shut up.”

The look on his face showed hurt.  But he didn’t say anything else.

Glancing at Kiseleva, Pirra saw surprise and curiosity – but little else.

“Let’s just keep our eyes on the mission,” Pirra ordered curtly.

“Yes, sir,” Kiseleva replied.  Lal just gave a nod.

“Commander,” Suon’s voice came from ahead.  “We’ve got movement.  Something big is coming towards us, and fast.”

Pirra signalled the alert, the whole squad moving to cover, readying their rifles.

That something appeared faster than she expected, bursting through a dense wall of hanging vines and ivy with a roar that shook the ground.

It was almost four meters tall, with long, powerful back legs, a sweeping tail, and arms big enough that it could have moved on all fours if it had wanted.  Its head was massive, lined with fangs that protruded from its mouth even when it was shut, and its bright, forward-facing eyes fell upon them.

The clearing drones were still flailing, their cutters slicing into the creature’s skin, and it swatted at them with huge, clawed arms, knocking a few out.

But we’re its real target, Pirra knew.  “Open fire!” she called.

A dozen guns barked.  The standard, armor-piercing rounds hit and left little impact on the surface, only little flashes of yellowish blood, but they’d tumble and cause heavier trauma within.  The heavy-caliber hunting rounds hit with far greater force, though, and she could see the creature’s flesh ripple from their energy.

It reared back, in surprise, and the next heavy rounds took it through the head.  It must have had something like a brain in there, as its eyes unfocused and it fell, the ground shaking with the impact.

“Hold position!” Pirra called.  The drones were registering new movement.

Something burst from the left – something even bigger.

It was the same sort of creature, but it had come around their flanks.

It moved with a swiftness that seemed impossible for a thing its size.  Its jaws opened and it dove in, crunching down onto one of the MUCU’s, which had placed itself in a vulnerable spot – by intention.  It was preferrable to lose equipment over an espatier, and even their armor wouldn’t stop something of that magnitude.

The quadrapedal drone and its cargo were crushed to pieces by the raw power of the animal’s bite force, though the metal edges cut into it at the same time, causing it to recoil in pain.

Then a heavy shot took it between the eyes.

The creature tumbled face-first into the ground.  It lay there, unmoving.

Kessissiin had taken the shot, she saw.  He stepped closer to it, and put another round through.

“Just to be sure,” he said.

“Good work,” Pirra breathed.

“I thought it could have a mate,” he said.  “That first one was a male, I believe.  The reports say the females are even more dangerous.”

“RIP, Muckie,” Jack Lal said sadly, looking at the destroyed remains of the carrier drone.  It was beyond recoverable.

“Drones have completed scanning the area,” Kiseleva called.  “There are no other large animals nearby, but there is a structure over there.”

A structure?  “Fire Teams two and three, keep positions.  One, with me.”

The four of them moved in the direction the animals had come from.  Could these have been trained guard animals?  It seemed absurd, but it was always possible.

The structure was not what she had been expecting.  It was not a sapient-built structure, but a nest.

The walls had been laboriously made of mud, perhaps pushed with snout or claw.  They were high, and Pirra had to step onto the side to get enough height to peer in.

And inside, among masses of grass, leaves, and bones, were four huge eggs.

“Oh,” she said, realization dawning.

Lal peered in, and when he stepped back his face looked bleak.  “They were just defending their nest,” he said.

Pirra felt the guilt, but then wondered if their deaths now were quicker and more painless than the ones from the looming death of their world.

How bizarre, she thought.  Life was carrying on here, unaware of what was coming all too soon.

“Let’s go,” she said, forcing herself to put the thought aside.  She didn’t need the distraction.  “We still have ground to cover.”

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< Ep 12 part 37 | Ep 12 part 39 >