Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 38

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


“ALL HANDS, TO EMERGENCY SHELTERS.  PREPARE FOR HIGH-G MANEUVERS.”

The voice, calm but very insistent, could not be missed; it was in every room, every corridor, every device.

Apollonia’s system was also broadcasting the alert, and she found herself barely aware of her own actions.

She didn’t remember going into the bunker, but she found herself fumbling with the straps on her seat.

She needn’t have bothered; they moved by themselves, slipping from her numb hands and locking about her.

There were a dozen others in the bunker with her, though there were also a lot of empty seats.  She hoped that didn’t mean some people were getting trapped outside.  Or maybe the Craton had a lot more of these than actual crew?  She didn’t know.  Maybe she should know that?

Her heart was beating as the door to the room closed.  A moment later the wall didn’t even look like it had a seam, it was so tightly sealed.

Apple turned, surveying the room again, and found that an older-looking woman was next to her.  She recognized her face as working at one of the restaurants she had gone to a few times.

The woman smiled at her nervously.

Apollonia smiled back, hers feeling weak.

“You’re a Volunteer?” the woman asked.

What was her name?  Apollonia wracked her brain but couldn’t remember.  It might have been Ann.

“Uh, yeah,” she said.  She had put on the jumpsuit, preparing to suit up.  They had said to expect hull breaches.  She started to reach for her tablet again to look at it, but a drone beeped at her.

“No loose objects during high-g maneuvers,” it told her.  It was not the floating kind, but built into the ceiling, almost flush with it.  She reckoned that it was secure enough that they’d all be paste before it busted loose and started flying around.  She wasn’t sure if that thought was consolation or not.

She put her tablet into a drawer that sealed shut, regretting it instantly.  Unlike everyone else, whose system was fully integrated into their bodies and clothes, she was entirely cut off from the augmented reality systems.

“It’s so brave of you,” the woman said, startling Apollonia.

“It is?” she asked, the question just slipping out.

“Oh, yes.  It’s dangerous work – I just wasn’t brave enough,” the woman said.

“BRACE,” the system said.  Apollonia felt the restraint straps tighten, and she tensed in her seat.

She didn’t feel brave.


< Ep 6 Part 37 | Ep 6 Part 39 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 37

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


Brooks strode onto the bridge.  Decinus had been swept away to a medical bay for emergency surgery, but Dr. Zyzus had given him and Logus a brief treatment that had largely fixed their hearing.  Things still sounded odd, but he could have his eardrums repaired properly later.

“Status,” he asked, striding to his seat.

“We’ve got over two hundred missiles still trying to follow your ship,” Urle said.  He had not sat in Brooks’s seat, but stood next to it.

Brooks took the chair, and surveyed the command center.

He knew he still looked a mess; his uniform was damaged, with blood splatters still on it – both his, from some minor cuts, and Decinus’s.

Kell appeared, Brooks feeling his presence before seeing him.

“We’ve launched some counter-missiles to theirs,” Urle told Brooks.  “Should we launch more?”

“Belay that,” Brooks said.  “They’re just going to launch more at the Craton now.”

Cenz turned around.  “Wouldn’t they have done that already, Captain?  They had to have seen that we had picked you up already.  It would make no sense to wait-“

“Launch too soon after their last wave, and their new wave of missiles will risk hitting our defensive measures.  It will also give them time to load more missiles and launch a strike that actually threatens us.  What is our likely intercept rate for the three hundred?”

“Given that they are in three waves, we have a 99.7% chance of intercepting all missiles, with a 0.3% chance of missing one to three-“

The threat board lit up.

“We have multiple launches!” Jaya said, her voice bordering on frenetic.

Which was understandable.  Brooks could see the screen lighting up; one after another, from nearly every Hev ship in Ks’Kull’s armada.

“Counting – 11,274 is the initial number, but we may have missed some,” Cenz said, his voice taking on a tone of alarm that was novel for the being.

“How many can we intercept?” Brooks demanded.

“Predictions suggest a 58.7% interception rate – oh my, that will let through far too many through . . .”

Urle looked at Brooks.  “We take even a fraction that many hits and we’ll be lucky not to break up.”

Brooks was looking at the plotted paths.  The missiles were swinging wide in all directions, to come at the Craton from every side.  It would mean they could bring more defenses to bear in total, but that hardly mattered with this many simultaneous launches.

“Revising numbers – 11,954 missiles.  A lot were visually lost in the blasts of others . . .  revised interception prediction rate at 56.2% . . .” Cenz said, his voice a pale shadow of its normal self.

“They have to have emptied their magazines,” Urle said.  “This is a hell of a commitment.”

“They’ll be reloading, but slowly,” Brooks said.  “As far as they believe, they have us.  How long until the missiles reach us?”

“Twenty-eight minutes, thirty-one seconds,” Cenz replied.  “Plus or minus five seconds.”

“How much power do we have in the jump coils?”

“Our jump in was brief, which saved a miniscule amount of power – we are currently at 38% of charge necessary for opening a zerospace portal,” Cutter said.  Despite the situation, the Beetle-Slug sounded calm.  This was, to him, merely another problem to be solved, Brooks thought.

And that was the truth of it.

“We require at least one hour and thirty-five minutes to make up the rest of the charge,” Cenz said.

“Do you have any thoughts, Captain?” Urle said.

“They may launch another wave of just as many in a few minutes,” Brooks said.  “Ks’Kull would love to take this ship intact, but clearly he wants bloodshed.  And even the Craton’s scrap would be invaluable in trade.”

“To the Fesha,” Urle said, disgusted.  “Do you think they pushed him to attack?”

“Possibly.  Where is their ship now?”

“It has left orbit of the seventh planet and is moving closer,” Cenz told him.

“Come to watch the fight,” Urle commented.  “Are they within strike range?”

“Only by long-range missiles, sir.  It would take even those several months to reach them.”

“They want to see what the Craton can do,” Brooks commented.

Jaya turned around to look at him.  “And with respects, sir, what do you plan to do?”

Brooks was silent a long moment.

“Prepare for a zerospace jump,” he said.

“But sir,” Cenz said.  “We do not have enough energy-“

“To make a successful jump, that’s right.  But we’re not going to make a successful jump.  We’re going to slingshot.”

Silence met his words, and it was Urle who broke them.  “Sir, you mean get the gravitational pull to get a burst of acceleration?  It won’t help us escape the missiles, it will only give us pseudo-momentum that will rapidly decay and we’ll be-“

“We’re not moving away from the missiles,” Brooks said.  “We’ll move towards them.”

He stood, reaching and bringing up a three-dimensional visual of the situation.  “Right now the Hev missiles are spreading out away from their fleet – this is normal, so that we can’t destroy hundreds with a single nuclear blast, and to keep our counterfire from coming straight at their fleet.”

He pointed to the path directly between them and the Hev.  “That means there is a gap here where there will be no missiles.  And the pseudo-momentum we can gain from a failed jump will move us fast enough – I believe – that the missiles will not be able to correct in time.”

He looked to Cutter, then Cenz.  “Do my numbers check out?”

“Yes,” Cutter replied.

“In theory!” Cenz cried.  “But there are still so many other issues!  We cannot go through a partially-opened portal aperture, or the ship will spaghettify-“

“Yes, so we’ll have to sling ourselves just around it.”

“The angular momentum might tear the ship apart!” Urle said, standing up.

“The Craton will hold together,” Brooks replied.

“And if she does, we will then be in the midst of the Hev fleet,” Cenz said.  “Captain, this . . .  I do not understand what we are hoping to achieve with this maneuver.”

“There are still so many other problems with this plan,” Urle added.  “Calculations that we’ll have to do on the fly – we’ve never even simulated this.  There’s a reason it’s not an accepted maneuver in any fleet book!  We might spaghettify, we might all be crushed by the g-forces, we might ram into a hundred missiles at a fraction of c, we might-“

“When outnumbered and trapped, we attack,” Brooks said, interrupting him.  “That is the only way to win against impossible odds.”

Jaya nodded, her face calm but eyes flaring.  “I am with you, Captain,” she said.

Urle took a long and deep breath.  “Just give the word, Captain.”

He nodded slowly, looking across the whole of his crew.  Perhaps some of them thought he was mad, perhaps a screw had been knocked loose in the explosion in the diplomatic station.

Perhaps it had.

But if Ks’Kull wanted blood, then he was going to drown in it.


< Ep 6 Part 36 | Ep 6 Part 38 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 36

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


“I’m having trouble stopping the bleeding!” Logus yelled.  It was the only way any of them could hear each other.

“Kell, can you help him?” Brooks asked.  “I’m needed at the controls!”

“It is best I do not,” Kell replied.

“Then can you take the damn controls?” Brooks yelled.

“That is an even worse idea,” Kell replied.  “Arn Logus, perhaps if you pinched the vein that is bleeding, it will prevent the flow.”  He managed to make his sarcasm biting even to a nearly-deaf man.

“Oh, sure, just show me where it is!”

“I would think you could tell,” Kell said, his annoyance showing.  He knelt next to the bleeding and unconscious Decinus and reached his fingers into his tattered arm.

Decinus sat up like a shot, screaming.

“What did you do?” Logus yelled, trying to hold Decinus still, who was thrashing like a wild man.

“I pinched the vein.  This is why it is best I am not involved.  Your life has a visceral reaction to the touch of my kind when you are dying.”

“What the hell . . .” Logus said, his words still loud, if not quite a yell.

“Damn it,” Brooks muttered, setting the controls as best he could on auto-pilot.  The ship was so simple it could do very little on its own, but he could leave the controls for a moment, at least.

He came over.  Decinus was in a bad way, but if they could get him help quickly . . .

Of course, they couldn’t realistically do that.  They were hours out from the Craton at the slow delta-v the shuttle could make, and their mother ship should not stay that long.  When the Hev launched on it, they would be much quicker than the diplomatic shuttle.  Even with her many defenses, the Craton would not be able to stop them all forever.

Decinus’s eyes had the look of a panicked animal, and Brooks was trying to help him calm, but Kell’s touch had sent him into a state that they couldn’t snap him out of.

A voice came from the control panel.

“Diplomatic shuttle, this is the Craton.  We are taking control of the ship, stand by for pickup.”

“What?” Logus said, his face puzzled.

Brooks stood and rushed back to the controls.

A flash of light appeared outside the front window, dulled by the cameras automatically, but still enough to make him flinch.

And the Craton was there.

“Damn it, Urle, you should have taken her out of here . . .” he muttered.  “But you didn’t feel you had a choice, did you . . . ?”

He did feel relief, though.  Even if he knew it wouldn’t last long.

He felt more than saw Kell’s stare, but said nothing to him.

A communication came in.

“Captain,” Urle’s voice came.  It sounded unnaturally soft.  “Are you all right?”

“We’re alive, but Ambassador Decinus is badly hurt.  Ks’Kull’s envoy was a bomb, and he was injured in the blast.”

“Is anyone else hurt?”

“Not badly,” he said.

“You sound kind of loud.  Hearing damage?”

Brooks wished the volume on the panel went higher.

“If you just said what I think you said – yes, Logus and I are suffering from hearing issues.”

“And Ambassador Kell?”  Urle seemed to be talking louder now.

Brooks looked to Kell, who seemed amused.  “I am unhurt,” he said.

“He’s fine,” Brooks told Urle.  “Get Dr. Y to meet us at the airlock with a trauma team.”

“Already done.  We’ll have you on board in two minutes.  And Captain – glad you’re all right.”


< Ep 6 Part 35 | Ep 6 Part 37 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 35

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


“All hands to battle-stations.”

Urle gave the order, and the command center exploded into action.  Officers ran about, speaking in rapid voices, and crewmen began to work furiously, sending all the signals to prepare the ship for combat, to inform the crew, to get everything locked down – a million actions, triggered by the one phrase.

It was no longer theoretical, just a possibility.  They were in action now.

Jaya, among them all, seemed the calmest.

She’d been born for combat command, Urle thought.  A part of him even wondered if she should be in command now, instead of him.  To fight, to kill, was not his forte, even if he could – and had – commanded in battle before.

But he would not give up the command seat until his dying breath, or until Brooks returned.  And right now, the latter option was in doubt.

“We have thirty-five, repeat three-five missiles inbound for the shuttle,” an officer informed him.

“Counter-fire missiles.  I don’t want one getting within fifty kilometers of the Captain!” he ordered.

“Counter-missiles launched, sir.”

Urle checked the computer’s calculations on optimal detonation points, approving them.  The computer would be better at such numbers than even he, but he still believed in double-checking.

Their salvo of missiles were visible on-screen now, streaks of light that were soon swallowed by the infinite dark.

Seconds later, he saw more blips appear from the Hev fleet, just as Cenz spoke.

“We have more launches, repeat more Hev launches.  Counting . . . over eighty . . . no, we have a third wave, oh my . . . an additional one-hundred and twenty-one missile launches. Two-hundred and thirty-seven missiles in total between all three waves, sir.”

“They are determined,” Jaya noted sourly.  She turned in her chair to look at Urle.  “Sir, we can counter their missile launches, but they surely have more than us.  And the more they launch, the higher the odds that one makes it through.”

“I’m aware of that,” Urle said.  “Estimated time to them reaching the Captain?”

“Approximately twenty-nine minutes,” Cenz told him.  “Ours have greater velocity, but we are still cutting it close.”

It would take much longer than that for the shuttle to return to the Craton.

They had limited options.  The Craton was charged for a jump, and they could jump in to aid the Captain, but if they did . . .

They’d be stuck.

But Brooks was a Captain, about to be taken captive by the Hev.  At best he would become a bargaining chip, and more than likely he’d end up in the hands of the Fesha – who would probably strip his mind for anything and everything of value.

A notification appeared, startling him.  Almost any notification should have been stifled right now, but this-

This was for a Captain’s eyes only.  It was from the ship’s computer.  The AI had understood the situation, and was now informing him of a special command.

He opened it, read it.

C-Directive 12, it was called.  Something that he, as only Executive Commander, had not been privy to.

His heart was beating.

‘Under Special Order of the SU Supreme Council, all measures are to be taken to prevent the capture of a Shoggoth by hostile forces.’

It bore the electronic signature of the council, and he knew it was true.

Now he had even fewer options.

The computer made a suggestion to him, and he checked, but no one else saw it.

‘Recommend firing upon shuttle to complete C-Directive 12.’

“No,” he said softly, the word just slipping out.

“Captain,” Eboh said.  “We are receiving a tight-beam from the Bright Flower.”

“Open channel,” Urle ordered.

Guona Daa appeared.

“Captain Urle,” she said.  “We have seen the situation, and request permission to jump in to rescue Captain Brooks and his team.  If you can provide covering fire, I believe we can survive long enough to meet back up with you and potentially transfer our crew over.  We’ll lose the Bright Flower, but it will be worth it.”

It was a brave idea, Urle first thought.  But he didn’t even need to run the numbers to know just how unrealistic it was.

“No,” he told her.  “That won’t be necessary.  I want you to jump out immediately, and return to Commodore Siilon.”

“And the Craton?” Daa asked.

“We’ll be going in,” Urle replied.


< Ep 6 Part 34 | Ep 6 Part 36 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 34

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


“Foolish, stinking human!  You dare bring such insult to me?  I will not have your head – not today!  But one day, mark my words-“

Brooks had listened to Ks’Kull’s rejection of his idea with as much serenity as he could muster, prepared to return to his ship – and do what?

He honestly wasn’t sure.  Could he sit back and watch a genocide?  Could he do the slightest thing to prevent it even if he launched his own counter-attack?

Ks’Kull began to spit another vehement word – and then he exploded.

It was too fast for Brooks to even register; he only realized it after it had occurred.

The fact that he could do that meant he was alive, he realized.

Because Kell had stepped in front of him.

The being had moved faster than he’d believed possible, seeming to nearly teleport, and had grabbed Logus, dragging the man along so sharply that his head snapped to the side.

He heard a terrible sound, like ripping, and realized that it was the shrapnel impacting Kell.

It should have torn through him; torn him apart.  Any human would have been.

But it did not come through Kell.  His face, in front of Brooks’s own, did not even change expression.

He felt the shockwave of the blast, it rattled him – but at this distance caused no injury.

His mouth was agape, and he heard Logus groan.  Then he heard the whimper of pain and looked over, seeing Decinus.  The man was alive, moving, but his upper arm was more blood than flesh, with bone jutting out.

“I could not shield you all fully,” Kell said, calmly.  “He may be dying.”

“Logus!” Brooks said, his voice soft in his ears.  The blast had hurt his hearing.

Logus was rubbing his neck, but seemed all right.  He looked up as Brooks spoke.

Emergency alarms were going off, sounding distant.

“The air is escaping,” Kell said.  And Brooks realized he could hear his voice just fine.  Somehow.

“We should leave.  I can bring Decinus if you wish him to continue living.”

Brooks looked at Kell, shocked, as the full realization of what had just happened sunk in.

The stand-in for Ks’Kull had exploded.  He himself had been a living bomb, walked right into their meeting without being detected.  And Ks’Kull had tried to assassinate him.

It meant war.

The show of force that Siilon was making, the threat of the Sapient Union crushing the Maig meant nothing.  Or perhaps Ks’Kull was so insulted he’d lost all of his scant control.  And so it would be, to sate his rage or bloodlust or insanity or logic or whatever the reason – it did not matter now.

It was war.”Get back to the shuttle!” he yelled, his voice barely audible.  “The Craton needs to know that we’re alive!  The Hev are going to attack!”


< Ep 6 Part 33 | Ep 6 Part 35 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 33

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


The Hev-thing was making a noxious sound that it took Kell a moment to realize was laughter.  It was superficially similar to the human sound, but reminded him more of a long-extinct Earth creature when it was dying.  They were unintelligent, though, and this thing was intelligent – in some way that was different from a human.

He wondered what they would taste like.  He had yet to consume a thing not from Earth, and he was growing more and more curious.

Humans had told him not to eat the food of other species, and he assumed that meant entities as well.  Granted, he would not eat any intelligent entity unless the situation arose that allowed it with a minimum of fuss.

Alien foods could poison beings from other ecosystems, though he knew it would not be an issue for him.  It did not matter in what way its most minute elements were mixed, they were the same elements.  That was all that mattered.

His chance to try, though, had yet to come, but he was patient.  Time meant nothing to him, and to have a novel experience . . . that was itself novel to him.  Something to look forward to.

Ks’Kull was saying something, his words apparently harsh, according to the device that he’d been given that translated alien words.  One day he’d simply know their languages.

Perhaps soon, he thought.

Though the one known as Ks’Kull – or stand-in, whatever, he did not care – was different than the others.  A most subtle difference in chemical signatures.  He doubted that even the sensitive equipment of the humans could have told, but he saw it innately.  How could he not, seeing from angles beyond their understanding?

How limited they were.  And as Ks’Kull now gestured sharply, Kell realized that something interesting was about to happen.  He saw the change from within the being first, and he gave the matter his full attention.  Ah, yes, the differences inside it . . . they were chemicals in small vials, distributed throughout its body.  And he saw now that the armor it wore was not true armor, but was built to shatter in a specific way when great force was applied to it.  He’d long ago learned about applying great forces in novel ways.

The chemicals reacted; exploding.  The Hev actor did not even have enough time to register surprise, though Kell felt certain it would have been surprised to know that it was a living bomb, trained to a higher degree and given greater autonomy solely to give Ks’Kull’s enemies reason to believe they were being granted greater prestige – and thus get them to lower their guard.

Its armor was shattering, hurling shrapnel towards Brooks and the others.  They would be ripped apart by it – the explosion itself would not be enough, the shrapnel would take care of the job.

It was time for him to act.

He only regretted that he would not get to consume the Hev; he and his guards were now in too many pieces, too charred and altered chemically to make it worthwhile for learning about them.

There would be other chances.  He just had to be patient.


< Ep 6 Part 32 | Ep 6 Part 34 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 32

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


After talking to Ambassador N’Keeea on the Craton, Brooks prepared himself to re-enter the negotiating area.

As he stepped back into the meeting room, he saw that N’Keeea’s prediction had been correct.

“He will not send the same body-double again – for of course he has others on his shuttle.  The last one will have been slain – his reactions were poor.  Shamefully so!”

“So this stand-in is a normal protocol?” he’d asked.

“Yes,” N’Keeea had said.  “And if you ask my opinion, you should do the same.”

“I will not use a body-double.”

“Then use a signal to broadcast.”

“If I do that now, it will be a sign of distrust.  I can’t leave now that I’m here.”

N’Keeea had clammed up then, and Brooks understood that the Hev would not understand his motives – that putting himself into risk was a way of showing his sincerity.

Was it lost on Ks’Kull?  Probably, he thought.  The being was mad, drunk with blood.

But he was not walking into the lion’s den without a safety net.  The Hev could fire on the meeting room – but the Craton should be able to launch counter-fire to protect them if that happened.  If the guards should try to attack – well, there were security walls between them that would shut the teams off from each other.  No weapons had been smuggled in, they’d been scanned and checked thousands of times by thousands of scanners.  The only real threat were the shuttles themselves, but even those were submitted for scans by drones from each side – and those drones had all scanned each other.

He felt safe enough.

Now, facing the Overlord’s stand-in, he saw it was indeed a different Hev.  The differences were subtle, and if he’d not used his system to check for them, it would have been hard to tell.

The holographic image of the Fesha Captain appeared again, bowing to both sides – his bow deeper to Ks’Kull, but Brooks ignored the minor slight.

“Before all begin their words,” the Fesha captain said.  “I must bless the Stars for this moment of time – for I am in the presence of great beings, and I shall never forget this day.”

His eyes went over Ks’Kull, but this time they lingered more on Brooks.

He realized that the Fesha were likely taking every image of him they could, utilizing every scanner on him that they controlled.

He, and the Craton.

“Overlord Ks’Kull,” Brooks began, dismissing the Fesha.  Let them watch – it did not matter.  The outside of the Craton was not what made her special.

“I notice your old stand-in is gone,” he said, wishing to make a point of it.

“He died for his failures – schemes, Captain, by enemies to brew hostility and discord,” the new stand-in said immediately, acting off the cuff.  Yet his mannerisms of the Overlord were spot-on.

“I am a more senior voice for the Overlord,” the new Voice continued.  “And you may treat me as you would the Overlord himself.”

Brooks questioned that, but the fact that this was a more experienced and trained stand-in seemed to be a positive step.

“Have you thought more, Overlord, about this predicament we find ourselves in?”

“I find it interesting,” the Overlord’s Voice said.  “That you would call it a predicament.  Where you see a difficulty, I see opportunity.  You have one of the Tul that have escaped – Keeea.”  He dropped the honorific before the Ambassador’s name, and Brooks let his displeasure show at that.

“Give him to me,” Ks’Kull said.  “And it will be a magnanimous gesture on your part, Captain.  Thus far, I feel I have given much – and received little but thinly-veiled insults.”

“I will not grant that,” Brooks replied.  “N’Keeea enjoys diplomatic protections.  Your own people observe these-“

“His government no longer exists,” Ks’Kull replied coolly.  “Therefore he has no such protections.”

Brooks felt his heart hammer.  “Did you attack the T’H’Tul in violation of our agreement, Overlord?”

“No, of course not – such insults again!  I am a being of my word, as I have said.  But dead now – or dead later, it makes no difference.  For all intents and purposes, they are dead already.  Therefore they cannot be a government.”

“Your concepts of causality seem to differ from my own,” Brooks replied dryly.  “But you speak of us making a gesture – there are things in my power to do.  There is trade that could occur between our peoples that could benefit us both.”

“Trade?” Ks’Kull asked sharply.  “What could you offer me?”

“I am sure there is much,” Brooks said.  “For you and for your people.  We have technologies that will help with the chronic food shortages you face, for your people are numerous.  We can help them live longer, healthier lives with medical technologies-“

“Weapons,” Ks’Kull said.  “Are what we desire for trade.  Show us what you have, Captain.  I have scrap ships – perhaps you demonstrate the might of your weapons upon them?  I have always longed to see a cratonic warship . . .”

The naked greed in his eyes gave Brooks a moment of pause.  He felt a worm of nervousness.  That the Craton would be one of the most valuable prize ships in known space was a given.  But to see that naked desire for her in Ks’Kull’s eyes was another matter.  He knew he revealed too much simply in the asking – yet he wanted to see it so much he did so all the same.

“We do not trade in weapons,” he told Ks’Kull.

“Then you have nothing to offer me.”

His eyes flickered, for just a moment, to the holographic image of the Fesha Captain.

And Brooks knew then, with certainty.  The Fesha were trading weapons to the Hev.

“It seems,” Ks’Kull said laconically.  “That we have found the impasse you so desperately desired, Captain.  Could it be that you do not truly wish to save the Tul?  That you sought to fail in your mission?  I would understand it.  They are detestable, are they not?”

Ks’Kull was taunting him, he realized, with shock.  Trying to throw him off with anger.

But his blood was cold.

“If we cannot break an impasse, it only means we are not trying hard enough, Overlord.  You do realize that when one civilization commits genocide like this, they are telling all others that they are not to be trusted, don’t you?  To continue on your present course does not mean immediate war with the Sapient Union – but we will not forget.  You may continue to buy arms from others, but they will have seen what you do with them.  There are no secrets among space-faring civilizations.  Those that live by the sword also die by the sword.  Is that truly what you wish?”

Ks’Kull leaned his head back, but kept his eyes on Brooks.  “I have given my word on this.  I honor my word.  The Tul must be destroyed.  Let all see – for I do not fear.”

“I can see,” Brooks said, throwing out his last card.  “That this is true.  I respect your bravery, Overlord – as well as your honesty.  You do not mince words.

“But to say we are at an impasse is to admit we are not strong enough to find a solution.  I have a proposal in mind that will appease all parties – and leave you with greater honor and stature still.”

Which was not quite true, but he had to sell it.  Indeed, he could read interest on Ks’Kull’s face.  At least as much as he could read a Hev; with as many factions as he’d worked with in his years before joining the Sapient Union, he’d learned well their habits and tics, and they could vary far more than even among humans.

“If you wish for the Tul to be dead, then let it be so.  But allow the remaining Hev upon the world of Poqut’k to leave alive.  They will abandon their name of Tul to its death, and become a new clan – existing within the Sapient Union, where they can never wrong you again.”

His heart was pounding, and he could read nothing on Ks’Kull’s face.  But the Overlord was listening intently.

“At this point, Overlord, what is there left to prove?  You have killed nearly all your enemies here, their works lay destroyed, and they have no hope.  You have much to gain from this plan.  It would sate your honor, you would still be honest – for the Tul would all be dead.  You would show your magnanimity and mercy.  Your people and mine would have made inroads towards friendship.”  The latter words nearly caught in his throat to say, but he had to all the same.

He stood to show that it was his last offer, and extended a hand, a Hev gesture Ks’Kull would understand plainly.  “What do you say, Overlord?  Shall all win?”

Ks’kull continued to watch him for several long moments, and Brooks held his pose.  He could not sit back down until he’d received a response.  He held, a bead of sweat on his forehead, threatening to run into his eye.

Please let it work, he thought.

Ks’Kull laughed again, but this time, it was not in mirth but in malice.


< Ep 6 Part 31 | Ep 6 Part 33 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 31

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


“So Ks’Kull is mad,” Siilon said.

With the Craton acting as intermediary, he’d started the FTL transmission with Siilon a few minutes before, sharing his minutes of the meeting, annotating where necessary.

“Yes,” Brooks agreed.  “It seems that at least some of our reports on him have proven accurate.  I do not think that he is going to be willing to negotiate the survival of the Tul Hev.”

“What I wonder is what the Fesha have to do with this,” Siilon asked rhetorically.  “Selling weapons to the Maig – this does not bode well.  I do not think this is even about the Mopu system.”

“I agree,” Brooks said.  “This is a test of the new weapons they’ve received.  If Ks’Kull likes what he sees, then his territorial aggression is only going to increase.”

Siilon closed her eyes, her head tentacles writhing in agitation.

“I have received a communication from my government,” she said.  “They have not ordered me to recall the Bright Flower as I thought they might, and worse, they have told me that I may not provide direct support to your mission.”

“Did they say why?”

“Because of the Fesha.  I was already on thin ice being present and sending in the Bright Flower, but if there is a Fesha ship here, then they fear the situation could escalate.”

It was sound logic; and the last open conflict the Sapient Union had had with the Fesha and Aeena had been a brutal and costly affair.  One that no one was keen to relive.

Yet if they did not stop a genocide like this now, then it would not stop here.  History had told them that.

“I think the Bright Flower should leave as soon as she can,” he said.  “If the Maig turn hostile, it will be difficult for the Craton to defend her, anyway.”

“Let alone yourselves,” Siilon said grimly.  “As good a ship as she is, those odds are steep even if I was present.  I appreciate that the value you put in my people’s lives, though.”

“Of course – we are allies.”  He grinned wryly.  “I suppose you did request to assist us?”

“No,” she said.  “I wasn’t even going to ask – but they know me.  However, while I cannot interfere directly, I can put on a show of my presence.  We’ve begun some military maneuvers within sight of Maig long-range scanners.  If they have FTL comms, which they certainly do, then they will know we are here.  They don’t have to know I am forbidden to help.”

“Thank you,” Brooks said.

“I only wish I could do more.”  She said it in a cautious way, that made him wonder if she had a plan – but she said nothing else.

They fell quiet again, and Brooks tried to scour his mind for any other thoughts or questions he might ask of his old friend.

But he could think of nothing.  Among them, he’d always been better at diplomacy, and Siilon better at combat command.

Brooks felt a heavy weight settle upon him – a mantle he felt he’d worn too many times; failure.  Ten billion beings were about to die, and he could only watch.

“I will order the Bright Flower to begin charging for a jump out, and then meet with Ks’Kull one last time,” he finally said, pushing his self-pity aside.  “I have one last gamble.  No one will like it, but it might work.”

Siilon let out a hiss of frustration.  “I will do all I can to make our exercise look good for their cameras.”


< Ep 6 Part 30 | Ep 6 Part 32 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 30

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


“Truly, you are worthy of respect, Captain Ian Brooks.  Boldness is a trait I have heard you possessed, and it is true.”

His face turned savage, serious.  “This is a stand-in.  I communicate with him, and He speaks with My voice.  He will be sufficient for this meeting.”

“I can understand that you may not be able to attend,” Brooks said.  “But I cannot accept that you will not give this matter your full attention.  Therefore, I will accept this presence so long as you concede to give that to me.”

Brooks leaned forward slightly.  “Which means you will declare a cease-fire with the Tul for the duration of our discussions.”

Ks’Kull’s hands flexed involuntarily, gouging into his chair.  “You dare make such demands . . . ?”

“You accept our presence because you respect the power we represent.  Do not dare pretend otherwise, Overlord.  If war came between our peoples, no matter if one of your espatiers was worth a thousand of ours – and they are not – you would still lose.  You would be ground into dust and forgotten.  The rest of your people would not come to your aid – indeed, they could be carving up the corpse of your empire before you were even dead.”

Brooks tilted his head back.  Among Hev it was as bold a move as turning your back, showing absolute dominance and lack of fear of your opponent.

Ks’Kull rose immediately, snarling, and Brooks felt a drop of sweat run down his brow, wondering if he had overplayed his hand.

But then, after a few seconds, Ks’Kull sat.

“My forces are not currently engaged with the traitorous, disgusting T’H’Tul.  We prepare for the final invasion, but what skirmishing ships I have – I will deign to withdraw them.”  He sneered.  “Though why you care so much for these pathetic beings I do not even wish to understand.”

Brooks nodded, and sat back down.

“But now that we have made ourselves clear,” Ks’Kull said.  “I impose my own special condition.  We shall have a third-party as guest observers.  The Friends to Maig, Fesha Captain Tii Keh Sheh.”

Ks’Kull gestured, and between the two tables, off to the side, a projection of the Fesha Captain appeared.

Brooks felt his breath catch in his throat.  He had not expected the Fesha to be so deeply involved with the Maig that they’d show up on his behalf.

The crystalline being’s body was hidden largely behind ceremonial robes, but what was visible of him was as realistic as if the being was actually standing there.

He studied Keh with open curiosity.  It was extremely rare to see a Fesha in person – they studiously avoided face-to-face meetings with other species.  And seeing them in three-dimensions made their biology even more alien to him.

“We are honored to be included in such a great meeting, Overlord.  May perpetual peace and friendship reign at this meeting, unless broken by those whose trustworthiness we cannot attest.”  His eyes swiveled to look at Brooks.

“Excuse our presence, Captain Ian Brooks.  Pretend even that we are not present if it pleases you.  We will not be in the slightest a difficulty.”

“Of course,” Brooks said, keeping his tone even.

He would ignore the Fesha, even if they hadn’t said that.  They had no standing here, as far as he was concerned.

This explained why Ks’Kull was willing to give in to his condition; he had clearly planned to bring the Fesha in after initial communications, after clearly flaunting his insult of not being present.

He could only roll with it for now.  Making an issue of this would not benefit him, and he had a feeling that if Decinus had been in control here, he might have forseen the trap.

Granted, Brooks did think that the ambassador would have known that pressing for advantage like this was expected among Hev, and being too polite was a sign of weakness.

Not that it wasn’t a risk to be bold . . .

He cleared his throat.  “Conflict and confrontation are not in anyone’s interest,” he began, gesturing between them all.  “Peace and security are what the interplanetary community should treasure the most.

“This is why the Sapient Union has become involved.  A war of one faction for the extermination of another is a concern to all species, all civilizations.  It is not something that can be ignored.  After all, a society that may exterminate others of their kind may one day seek to exterminate other species.”

He met Ks’Kull’s eyes.  “Which is why it is imperative for a group engaged in such activities to assure the interstellar community of their intentions and reasoning – and to show that they are open to both mercy and discourse.

“You have shown the latter, Overlord.  It was a most gracious move.  Now, I must ask if you can show the former?”

Ks’Kull contemplated – for longer than seven seconds this time.  The Fesha remained silent, having watched Brooks evenly, and now looking at the Overlord.

“Yes, your words are wise, Captain Ian Brooks.  There is but a problem, however; the T’H’Tul have raised my anger.  I have declared them to be H’, and this matter is simply no longer negotiable.  Your people may not understand the seriousness of the issue – our ways are not yours.  But to Hev, once declared H’, they must be destroyed.  It does not matter if they are old, young, a child who does not yet speak or their most wisened and respected councilor.  All of them will die, and I will deliver those deaths.  For you see, to be declared H’ does not simply mean to die; it means to have no future.  The Tul do not deserve one, and I will not allow them to have one.  If I do not do this, then my honor will not survive.”

He gestured.  “So you see, my options are limited.  The Tul must die, and by my hand.  Though perhaps this last point is negotiable?  We could, perhaps, allow some of your forces to engage in the extermination – under my command – if this would allay your concerns.

“And why not?  After all, this would be a great boon for us both.  I am not ignorant of recent events, Captain Ian Brooks.  Your own people are at odds with a hostile faction that you have yet to destroy.  Should we cooperate on this matter, perhaps future military alliances against these disgusting upstarts could be considered.”

It took Brooks effort to not burst out in anger at what Ks’Kull had suggested, his fists clenching at his side.

But he managed.  Decinus kept a calm face, and Kell reacted as much as he ever reacted to human matters – indifferent.

Logus, however, was another story.  His face betrayed the disgust and anger under the surface – though, fortunately, he said nothing.

“Your offer is most . . . novel,” Brooks said, struggling to find words.  “I believe that a recess may be in order – we both have much to consider.  Us to contemplate the use of our forces,” he kept the wording vague enough to be allowed it to be construed as the potential threat it was, “and for you to consider how you might keep your honor intact while sparing your enemies.  If you should find a way, it would not speak only to your generosity, but also your cleverness.”

Ks’Kull took the words in, but said nothing, reacted in no way at all.

“Before we recess, however,” Brooks added.  “I would like to understand one thing – what is it that the T’H’Tul did that caused you to declare them H’?”

Ks’Kull chuckled, standing and stretching languorously.

“The Mopu system is mine,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.  “And thus, by occupying my territory, the Tul have done me outstanding insult.  They offer no apology – and indeed, I would not accept any.”  He held up one of his large hands.  “I understand you may argue that they have been here longer.  But this is a lie – and it does not matter.  I have said it, and it so.  For beyond being known for my generosity, strength, and cleverness, I am also known for my honesty.  None who wish to live would ever question it.”

Captain Keh nodded, looking to Brooks.  “My people can truly attest, Captain, to Overlord Ks’Kull’s deep and unquestionable honesty.”

Brooks felt his heart pounding in his chest, as anger and disgust ate away at his resolve.

But he fought them down; a man was an animal, but one that practiced self-control.

“I understand,” he said.


< Ep 6 Part 29 | Ep 6 Part 31 >

Episode 6 – Diplomatic Maneuvers, part 29

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


They waited a brief time, until a green light above the door lit.

Decinus went first, along with Logus.  They went to flank the table, and then Kell walked in, his stance every bit like a military officer.

Brooks saw Ks’Kull’s entourage do the same.  First his two guards – large, hulking Hev in ornate armor that glistened with gold and platinum, encrusted with strange gems from alien worlds.

Following them was some sort of aide; he was heavily augmented, much like Urle, long cables going directly into his skull, and his eyes replaced with large sensors.  He moved slowly, stiffly, as if his augments were an onerous weight upon him.  They likely were, Brooks thought.  He had been altered to serve his function, with no care given to his quality of life.

Finally, Brooks entered at the same time as Ks’Kull.

His opposite was even more imposing in real life, a head taller than even his guards.  His armor was likewise inscribed in incredibly fine details, inlaid with green and purple gems of tiny sizes within the patterns so that the lines themselves seem to sparkle.  His eyes were flinty, but he moved slower than Brooks expected, with a slightly awkward gait that seemed peculiar.

His massive pair of combat arms had so many rings on their fingers, gaudy with large gemstones, that they didn’t look like they could even close, while his smaller, more functional arms were more lightly adorned, and folded across his stomach.

The thought of the surgeries he’d had to undergo to get an extra set of arms boggled Brooks’s mind.  They were biological, which meant they’d been designed by master geneticists, cloned, then his entire physiology altered to fit and control them . . .

Brooks moved to his table, not sitting yet, and offered a bow.  Ks’Kull replied with a nod.

The Hev aide stepped forward, his voice high and shrill.

“Presenting Supreme Overlord Ks’Kull, Ruler of the Keigos, Projok, Bild, and Mopu systems, Master of a Hundred Worlds, Father of Hordes, Bringer of Destruction to His Enemies, He Who is Worthy of All Praise, the Greatest and most Awe Inspiring of all Hev.”

Brooks had not actually planned an introduction anywhere near that, but Logus spoke up clearly.

“Presenting Captain Ian Brooks, he who has defeated pirates and traitors, bringer of hope to New Vitriol, the only mortal man to ever meet four Leviathans and leave with his mind intact.”  He gestured to Brooks.

Who had to suppress a smile.  Logus said nothing, keeping his face quite calm.

One of the Hev guards approached, carrying a long pole.  Hanging from its end by leather thongs were six skulls – mostly Hev, but he also saw two from other species.  Including a human skull.

Like Ks’Kull’s armor, they had intricate patterns in them, the lines filled with crushed gemstones.  He could not read Hev writing, but he could recognize it, and from the imagery, he imagined that each skull had the story of its owner – or at least their demise – carved into it.

“Overlord Ks’Kull presents for his esteemed guest,” the small enhanced Hev said.  “This token of victory.  Carrying with it the heads of six great enemies of the P’G’Maig, their stories of failure, stupidity, treachery, and ultimate deaths forever marked into their bone.  Carry it, and know a taste of Ks’Kull’s might.”

Decinus stepped forward to meet him, carrying their gift.  He accepted the skull pole, and offered a slate-gray cube in return.

“Please accept this with Captain Brooks’s praise,” Decinus said.  “It contains knowledge of humanity throughout all time, so that you may know us better and we may become friends.  Our cultures, languages, art, music-“

“And wars?” Ks’Kull demanded.

Decinus did not miss a beat.  “Yes, Overlord.  It includes our history of wars.”

Ks’Kull seemed mollified.  “Then I shall accept your gift.  It may entertain me.”

The guard took the cube without even looking at Decinus.

Coming back, the old Ambassador refrained from showing his horror at the skulls that clanked on the pole, but the tension lines in his face made clear his disgust.

As Decinus took back up his position behind and to Brooks’s left, Kell reached over and took the pole.  Decinus let him have it, and Kell studied it curiously.

Brooks moved to sit, followed by Ks’Kull, who was still moving more slowly and awkwardly than Brooks felt seemed right.

Something about this was off.

Ks’Kull was leaned forward, hungrily, but said nothing.

“Overlord,” Brooks began.  “Might I begin by asking you a question; do you wish friendship or enmity with the Sapient Union?”

Decinus’s eyes were on him, because it was a loaded question.  But in truth, Brooks did not care about Ks’Kull’s answer.  He just needed Ks’Kull to answer.

It didn’t matter what he said; it mattered how long he took to say it.

It was nearly seven seconds before Ks’Kull spoke.

“I am not a cruel lord.  I seek friendship with worthies, and seek only to destroy those who raise my ire, or are too weak to be of use.  This is reasonable, yes?”

Brooks checked his system.  The Craton was two and a half light-seconds out from their meeting place.  Ks’Kull’s flagship had agreed to stay at the same range, which meant . . .

He stood up.  “Overlord, why do you insult me?”

Ks’Kull’s shock was immediate, but he didn’t answer; again, for nearly seven seconds.

“Insult?  How dare you imply that Ks’Kull would ever-“

“You are not Ks’Kull,” Brooks said.  He heard a gasp from Decinus.  “You are a stand-in.  Being fed instructions, perhaps even puppeteered by the Overlord.  If you wish respect, Ks’Kull, you will not deal such an insult to me as failing to show up.”

The ersatz Ks’Kull in front of them was acutely uncomfortable; the entire room was tense, the Hev guards with eyes wide.  Only the assistant was unreadable.

In his own party, he could see in his peripheral vision, that Logus and Decinus were likewise tense.  Only Kell seemed calm; if anything, he had simply a detached curiosity about the whole ordeal.

Then Ks’Kull laughed.


< Ep 6 Part 28 | Ep 6 Part 30 >