Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (14 page)

Belle-ub was sitting with the Dirg admiral across the aisle from Brandon. In the row ahead of them were Belle-ub’s two assistants. Directly in front of Brandon sat the Dirg admiral’s companion. That was the sum of the occupants in the narrow Dirg shuttle cabin, but there were two additional Dirgs up in the cockpit flying. Brandon found the seats to be comfortable, as they were over-sized for him.

The Dirg pilots made a fairly smooth landing inside the hangar. Everyone exited the shuttle. They were escorted to the lifts by two dull-bronze Banorian deckhands. The High General was waiting by the lifts. Brandon introduced everyone.

One of the deckhands was instructed to escort the shuttle pilots to a lounge. The other deckhand took the two Dirg delegates and the three red Sheen to the bottom tower level in the remaining lift. Olut6 and Brandon stayed behind, promising to meet them in the conference room shortly.

When the lift doors closed, Olut6 turned to Brandon.

“There’s some kind of cockamamie trouble brewing,” he said. “Four different alien transport fleets are now positioned between here and Amulen, in significant numbers, all of them carrying fighter squadrons and who knows what other kinds of weapons. The Dirgs are fighting with the Latians and the Circons are apparently feuding with the Noors over some extat issue. Our star system has become a bomb waiting to ignite. On top of that, we’ve been told fantastic stories of new kinds of weapons of mass destruction. Tora, as you know, is not currently warring with anyone, and Cardinal-4 is not open for entertaining guests. But all these armed fleets from these different bickering races have arrived here for some reason. It’s all happening around Amulen, which means information comes slow and my decisions are difficult. The Dirgs, Latians, Circons, and Noors aren’t the only ones here, either. Mip7 has gotten intelligence reports from Amulen of representatives from several other races visiting, whose transport ships appear to have ‘dropped them off.’”

Brandon nodded. “I understand your frustration, General. It all seems to be centered on the village this Belle-ub character is in the middle of constructing. He has somehow managed to assume authority in the region. At the very least, I believe he lords over the Northern Militia on C3—which means he now controls the bulk of the Amulen food supply—and also over the Central Region Militia. Perhaps more, as I know he’s reaching out to other communities and seems intent on uniting many of the Amulen factions. I’m in the process of gathering information there which I hope will be enlightening.”

Olut6 cocked his head. “Never heard of a Sheen having any kind of ambition before. They’ve always kept to themselves, and never had any interest in politics.”

“These red Sheen are a new order, General. They make me nervous. I find I don’t naturally trust them, and I’ve never said that about any Sheen before. But at the same time, they’ve become useful—even necessary—for handling the current situation.”

“Because they find themselves in the middle of it all?”

Brandon pushed the button for the lift. “More like they have deliberately
placed
themselves in the middle of it all. Whatever’s going on, I think it’s by design—and I suspect Belle-ub of orchestrating it. For what purpose, I don’t wish to guess. Inviting warring races here doesn’t figure to help his Amulen unification efforts, unless his intent is to start a war and unite them under a common cause. I’m hoping we get some answers out of him in these peace negotiations.”

The lift arrived. A few minutes later, Brandon and Olut6 entered the large conference room where everyone was waiting. Mip7 made the formal introductions and they all sat.

The Dirgs were on the back side of the table. This included the high commander, whose name was Admiral Hochob, his assistant, and three Dirg delegates who had been on board the Latian command ship and were now being returned. The most vocal of them was Commander Jojob, the second in command.

Directly opposite the five Dirgs sat four Latians, who were identified as Inquisitor Errshlin, Captain Murrkal, Ensign Larrmin, and the Inquisitor’s personal assistant. So the first and second in command of both the Latian and Dirg fleets were present for the meeting.

Olut6 sat down next to Mip7 at the far end of the rectangular table, closest to the door. The three red Sheen were at the other far end. Brandon decided to take that side and sit in the corner seat between Inquisitor Errshlin of the Latians and Belle-ub.

That position proved to have its drawbacks, as it gave Brandon a side-view of the Latians for the most part. There wasn’t much to see of them from that vantage point. In fact, the appearance of both these alien races took some getting used to. But then, so did the Torians originally. Nowadays, Brandon found the presence of large lizard-men to be as normal as being surrounded by humans.

Brandon wondered how formal these proceedings were going to be, and if they would follow some kind of protocol for interstellar peace negotiations. That question was answered when Commander Jojob of the Dirgs assumed the initiative and started blurting demands.

“The technology for the light weapon must be disclosed,” he said. “Not only to us, but to all advanced races in the Erobian Sphere. Sole possession of such a weapon of mass destruction cannot be tolerated. When the others learn of it, they will all come to our side on this point.”

Latian Inquisitor Errshlin leaned forward to respond. Before speaking, he allowed a moment of silence to elapse and surveyed the expressions of everyone in the room. Errshlin struck Brandon as an intelligent leader—alert, calculating, and in the habit of using his ears more than his mouth.

“Commander,” he said, “the weapon you are referring to wasn’t ours. We claim no knowledge of it, and, in the interest of settling our current conflict, confess that we do not possess such a thing. The surge of energy that came forth from the salvage vessel and destroyed a portion of your fleet was every bit as much a surprise to us as it was to you—although a welcome one from our perspective. We considered your attempt to appropriate the salvage ships a hostile act, as you threatened to take them from us by force.”

“Yes,” Jojob said. “We found you as pirates scavenging our property, so we asked you to leave—cordially at first. But we confirmed our intent to defend our possessions from thieves, with force if necessary. If you will recall, I also told you we preferred not to go that route, and granted you a gracious amount of time to clear away. How interesting that this coincided with the time your landing craft was received on board the salvage vessel, and moments later the attack commenced—a dishonorable attack, without warning.”

“The landing craft you speak of was not Latian either, Commander. When you asked if it was ours, I instinctively said yes. This was an impulsive lie on my part; one I now greatly regret. I was only seeking the protection of whomever it was, which I suspected to be a Milurian delegation sent by our half-breed race that had just relocated to the planet. Latians have no saucer-designed craft of any kind. And I will remind you that the first shots were fired by the Dirg fighters which scrambled and came at the salvage vessel after it became immersed in light. Only then did the light weapon react with its destructive force, in what appeared to be a defensive act—but again, we were only witnesses to that action, and in no way directed it or have any knowledge of its source.”

The five Dirgs could all be heard hissing. Brandon decided to interject.

“Inquisitor, are you certain the landing craft which docked in the Azaarian warship was saucer-shaped?”

Errshlin faced Brandon and his head became much wider. “Yes.”

“Interesting,” Brandon said.

“Why is that?” Errshlin asked. Brandon could tell he was fishing for information. The more Brandon talked to this being, the more he liked him.

Brandon leaned back in his chair. “Torians and Azaarians both use saucer-shaped landing craft. Tora experienced a large migration of half-breeds to Milura 25 years ago. The transport ship which took them never returned, and vanished from our scopes shortly after the migration. The Azaarian half-breeds populated Milura several generations prior. There was once a native race of intelligent life on Milura as well, but not much is known of what happened to them. So I find this story …interesting.”

The Dirg admiral spoke up. “We are not interested in discussing half-breed races.” He then hissed something at Commander Jojob in a low volume, and Jojob hissed something back.

Mip7 spoke. “Please, if we are to make progress, we must not talk quietly among ourselves. Whatever is to be said, let it be heard by all.”

Jojob turned to Mip7. “We offer our apologies. My admiral was asking me if the Latian commanders seemed genuinely surprised by the light weapon when it emitted from the salvage ship. I confessed to him that they did, but I cannot tell if it was simply a convincing act.”

Brandon sensed an opportunity.

“Commander Jojob,” he said, “what do your instincts tell you? I’m certain you did not rise to the position of second in command of the fleet without being recognized for your instincts. A good commander should be able to trust those. I ask you to give us an honest answer, as to whether your instincts tell you the Latians were feigning surprise when this great energy weapon came forth from the old warship.”

There was a moment of silence in the room. Brandon caught Mip7 nodding at him appreciatively.

“No,” Jojob finally said. “I do not believe the surprise was feigned. But the possibility remains that the Latians are extremely good actors. Also, there is no question that we were in dispute over the salvage rights when the attack occurred, and Inquisitor Errshlin does not deny there were Latians still on board the Azaarian vessel when the light weapon commenced.”

“At this point,” Mip7 said, “do we at least all agree on there being doubt over the source and origination of the light weapon?”

The Dirgs hesitated, but conceded to agree to the doubt. Mip7’s point was firmly established and progress in the talks was being made.

Olut6 spoke. “Admiral Hochob, would it help the situation any if the Latians agreed to an inspection of all the hangars in their fleet, so that you can verify for yourselves they have no saucer craft?”

The Dirgs studied the Latians’ reaction to his suggestion.

Inquisitor Errshlin must have realized that. He quickly said, “This is perfectly acceptable. However, I must remind all those in attendance that we did not come to this star system with the intent of proving ourselves innocent of the accusations of the Dirgs. Far from it.”

“Then why did you come here?” Belle-ub asked.

“To exact a measure of restitution from the Dirgs, one way or another. They attacked us, and committed an outright act of war in so doing. Six Latian transport ships and hundreds of Latian lives were lost in the battle. We are unwilling to let that go. I will speak straightforwardly, as we have nothing to hide. We require that the Dirgs either finish the battle or surrender. If they surrender, restitution must be made for our losses.”

All five Dirgs began hissing, and their flesh was now pulsating rapidly.

Olut6 stood up. “Any ‘battles to be finished’ must be fought outside of Tora space.” He looked directly at Errshlin. “Is that understood, Inquisitor? We won’t tolerate it here. Let me make myself perfectly clear. If you choose to fight in Tora space, then you are choosing to fight the Torians. Plain and simple. And we are well equipped to handle you.”

Errshlin stood to respond. “Yes, you have effectively demonstrated that. At least, from inside the atmosphere of one of your worlds.”

The Dirgs all then stood up, which caused a chain reaction. Everyone in the room was shortly standing. Brandon could feel the tension between the Dirgs, Latians, and General Olut6.

“Silence, everyone!” Mip7 said. He spoke in an uncharacteristic stern voice which drew all eyes upon him, even Olut6’s. That was something he must have learned to do since becoming governor.

Mip7 continued. “These talks are making progress, whether we realize it or not. We must avoid emotional reactions which only serve the cause of war. If war is the only solution, we will arrive at it soon enough. No need to jump the gun. I’m certain we all agree it is wise to explore the possibility of peace first. This is that opportunity. It may well be the only opportunity. I have studied the histories of dozens of races across this galaxy, and have concluded that rarely is war the best solution for any party. Therefore, it is best to set aside emotions and attempt to follow a logical course, while one may still be found. I ask you all to sit back down.”

Olut6 sat immediately, which Brandon thought to be an unusual gesture of humility for him. Brandon followed his lead, as did the three red Sheen. The Dirg and Latian leaders then also sat, bringing their subordinates down alongside them. Mip7 was the only one left standing.

“Thank you,” he said. “Admiral Hochob, the last proposition was that of an inspection of the Latian hangars. Is this something you are interested in?”

“No,” the admiral said. “I am convinced there are no saucer craft on board, judging by the Latian commanders’ reactions.”

“Do you still suspect the light weapon that attacked you to be Latian?” Mip7 asked.

“Some suspicion remains of that, yes. We suffered a much greater loss from the light weapon attack than the Latians did in the resulting battle. I will now confess we also have some suspicion that the light weapon may be Torian. You are a wise mediator, Governor. In the interest of making further progress towards peace, I would ask you to now question the Inquisitor on what he believes was the cause of our battle.”

“Fair enough,” Mip7 said. He turned to Errshlin.

“You heard him, Inquisitor. I ask you for an honest answer. Why do you believe the Dirg fleet attacked you?”

“They obviously believed the light weapon was ours. I do not contest that. Were the situation reversed, we would have assumed the same—although we would not have hijacked another race’s salvage operation.”

Mip7 was still standing. He began nodding enthusiastically. “Good, good. Do you understand what you have just conceded? You do not blame the Dirgs for engaging you, after witnessing what happened to them.”