16: Returning Victors

Life is a storm, my young friend.
You will bask in the sunlight one moment,
be shattered on the rocks the next.
What makes you a man is
what you do when that storm comes.

Alexandre Dumas

“I just want to apologize again,” Taq said as the humans and their new bond-mates sat in Al’s quarters, resting between shifts.

“There’s no need. You did me a huge favor providing the name of someone collecting trophies onboard. If you hadn’t, there was no way I could have changed everyone’s attitudes. Now that the crew understands the taking of those trophies is partially why the Zssizliq hate us so much, hopefully we can curtail the practice.”

“Well, the warriors are plenty pissed,” Taq said. “Lillflk’s toys cost him a fortune to embellish. Sold on the open market, it’d be worth five times what he paid to have it done.”

Taq was an odd choice for Mui and Lamar, who always professed an interest in large masculine men. Instead, he was a slim creature, walking on thin legs. He didn’t have much bulk, but was quick and decidedly cerebral. He was able to disassemble the most elaborate of equipment and put them back together without losing a piece, effortlessly recalling where each component went. He also possessed a protruding beak. But what was scarier about the soft-spoken man was the realization it was what remained of a large crushing maw, gradually rounded and softened over time. Still, the power of his jaws was incredible. They’d seen him tear metal apart with his teeth alone. He was also incredibly detail oriented, remembering things his new mates frequently forgot. That was enough for Al, who didn’t want to imagine what they did in the bedroom anyway. The idea of those jaws anywhere near his privates gave him the willies!

“How much are they bitching?” Xi asked. “After all, we just had a major win with no casualties and no damage to the ship. We’ll be heroes throughout the Tandorian Empire once word spreads. Trust me, the politicians will milk this for all it’s worth. We’ve managed to pull off the very first Zssizliq cease fire on record. Those are all reasons for them to be pleased as punch. Lillflk might be out a few credits, but the entire ship will be riding high after this win.”

“Those few aside, the whole crew is pretty satisfied,” Myi confirmed. “Everyone was expecting a devastating fight with massive losses, despite Al’s repeated promises to outrun the Zssizliq after withstanding their scan. No one truly believed we’d slip away so easily. To have won such a decisive victory likely means commendations for everybody involved!”

“Still, within a certain segment of the armed forces, those trophies have a lot of value. They not only have to answer how they lost them, they also have to withstand the criticism as the military strips everyone else’s.” Taq turned back to Al. “Seriously, not targeting the guy who provided me with the name won you significant points with quite a few people. By allowing him to turn in his trophy, no questions asked, many of the warriors turned over theirs once they saw the writing on the wall. It saved them the humiliation which Lillflk and others had to endure.”

“As well as having the Captain personally inspect each of their quarters, exposing every secret they’ve been hiding all these years,” Bi observed. “I’m sure that rubbed many the wrong way too.”

“I’m sure it’s mainly those who’ve always had a chip on their shoulders where we’re concerned,” Gary said. “We’ve made tremendous inroads, but there are more than a few who’d rather throw us out an airlock or stab us as look at us. Some things never change, and some people absolutely refuse to.”

“Does this remind anyone of our last weeks on Earth?” Mui asked. “With great abilities come great responsibilities, and with those come resentments and those looking to get something for nothing.”

“Just how hard did you have it on your home world?” Chich’k asked, still shoving nuts in her mouth as she continued talking. She was hanging, like she usually did, from the ceiling where she could see everything occurring in the room. For such a small creature, she seemed to eat continually.

“They shot Al multiple times with primitive weapons which fired steel projectiles at high velocity,” Eli elaborated. “We nearly lost him. We would have, if not for Xi. We got help after that, mainly because they wanted us gone, afraid of the flack they’d catch for keeping us in the hospital. Once we left, several different Special Forces units were called in to track us down and either capture or kill us.”

“Remind me never to visit there,” Chich’k replied. Ivan and Kaci had taken to calling her Chi-Chi as a joke, which she joined in on—despite never knowing the original reference. They thought it was hilarious, since she effectively had none.

“Well, unlike Tandor, Earth still had beautiful lush forests with tall, magnificent trees,” Gary related. “I’m sure your people would have loved it. Though like Tandor, ours were willing to passively sit and watch as it was devastated, hardly objecting to policies which guaranteed it wouldn’t last.”

“Please,” Chi-Chi responded, spitting out the shells and hitting the trash disposal from across the room. “My people gave up on living in forests thousands of years ago, and we have no desire to return. Between the heat, insects, disease and everything eager to eat us, it was no vacation paradise. Give me a gleaming ship any day. Especially one where I can reach places no one else can, and where I can quickly escape, regardless of what others may wish to do to me. In the wild, once you’re up a tree, there’s only one way down.”

“I’ll concede that,” Eli said. “Although we remember using cold outdoor commodes, none of us has any desire to return to those days either. And that was only a relatively short time ago, not even a hundred years.”

“So when are you getting back together with the Zssizliq?” Etta asked. “I must say, I’d love to see what they’re actually like in person. Their physiology must be amazing, and I’m sure we’re unaware of half the things they’re capable of, even after this much time.”

“Well, we wanted to keep our Tandorian hosts waiting, sweating over whether it would happen. So we’re letting them sit and stew, wondering if our turning over those trophies was a wise decision or a foolish misstep.”

“You don’t want to wait too—” Del’s response was interrupted, when the Captain’s voice sounded in their quarters.

“Al, Zita, Be, please report to the bridge,” Captain Yitzl ordered.

Al and the others sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got orders to return immediately, we’re moving out.”

“We’re heading back to Tandor?” Xi asked.

“We can’t leave now,” Al protested. “What happens when the Zssizliq want to negotiate?”

“This is a military directive. If they ask, you can urge caution all you want, but we can’t refuse. But no, we’re not returning to Tandor. We’re going to Torssin, the nearest outpost. I’m guessing they want to know the details of this arrangement and possibly have some input into what you concede before it takes place.”

When Yitzl ended the call, Al and the others stood.

“You’re going to go?” Bi asked.

“He’s correct. If they ordered, we don’t have a choice in how we respond,” Al said before cracking a smile. “But the Zssizliq may have something to say before then.”

____________________
When Al, Betty and Zita entered the bridge, every head turned to regard them. They already knew why, but feigned ignorance.

“Quickly,” Yitzl insisted, motioning them forward. “It’s the Zssizliq. They want to schedule negotiations. They sound eager to talk.”

Al strode into the room, looking nervous, his eyes darting around. “Are they online or waiting for us to call?”

“We want to know why no one is willing to address this simple request,” Rollsqmarsh answered in rapid Zssizliq.

Al glanced at Yitzl, who shrugged, unsure how to respond.

“So you’re prepared to discuss a truce?”

“We are. Your sparing the lives of our crew and leaving the pilfered remains of our dead for us to properly dispose of, demonstrates you’re the only Tandorian we’re willing to discuss terms with. No one else has ever acknowledged what’s being done to our people’s bodies, nor made any offers to resolve our issues.”

Yitzl waved frantically, but Al turned so he could give the discussion the attention it deserved, without being distracted by different dissenting voices.

“There’s been a disturbing complication,” Al cautioned, speaking to the room, since there was no visual display. “We’re being recalled, so we’ll be unavailable for some time.”

“This is highly irregular,” Rollsqmarsh said, his voice growing pitched, his words coming more quickly, the tenor sounding remarkably like nails on a blackboard. “You make an effort to reach out to us, and when we return the favor, offering to compromise, you run away? Why should we consider this offer valid? Are the Tandorians interested in resolving this war, or only in playing games?”

“I’m only a humble servant of my people. I can hardly speak for them before they dictate which concessions I’m allowed to make.”

“No one is asking for concessions, this is merely an opening gambit, determining whether there’s even any reason to talk. At this point, I’m seriously questioning if there’s any use in continuing.”

“I agree, this is disturbing, but I ask you to pause and not jump to conclusions. While I’d prefer taking the time to ensure we trust each other, I’m not authorized to meet with you yet. I can hardly refuse a direct order.”

“We can arrange for someone else to meet you,” Yitzl offered, struggling to string together the difficult Zssizliq phrases, “if we’re unable to return in time.”

“We will negotiate with no one other than this Al of Earth,” Rollsqmarsh said. “He’s the only reason we’re willing to talk at all, and we’ve never encountered a Tandorian we’d trust. If he’s unavailable to talk, we’ll interpret it as yet another refusal of your people to provide a reasonable dialogue. We’ve been treated badly and betrayed repeatedly. We don’t trust anyone else, and will take an attempt to interfere as a further act of deception.”

“There’s no sense getting ahead of ourselves,” Al said, trying to calm everyone down. “We won’t be gone long. I’m guessing no more than a week, give or take a few days. Surely you can wait that long. After all, we’ve been waiting much longer to resolve this unrelenting conflict.”

“Fine, because you requested the additional time, we’ll relent. You have eight days. But if you are unable or unwilling to meet at that time, then the offer is rescinded. At that point, we will not only continue fighting, we will launch a new offensive, actively pursuing Tandorian ships and outposts, leaving no survivors, as they seem to prefer.”

Al turned back to Yitzl. “Is that enough time? How long will it take to reach...” He stopped to tap his ear. “Hello? Hello? Are you still there?”

“The signal has terminated,” an officer filling in for Zita responded.

“He seemed a bit miffed,” Yitzl ventured.

“That’s an understatement,” Al clarified, as their new Zssizliqian expert. “He was livid. I don’t doubt his claims of an increase in aggressive actions. We’d best get to Torrsin and return as quickly as we can, lest they grow impatient in the interim.”

“I’m not sure we can make it there and back in that time.”

“We’d better, or else someone is going to have to answer for an entirely new Zssizliq campaign!”

____________________
“So why are we here again?” Ivan asked, as they exited the ship, heading for the military’s enclosed command post.

“We were ordered to report,” Al said. “They wouldn’t explain why, but Captain Yitzl could hardly refuse.”

“Did they know we arranged a negotiation with the Zssizliq?” Betty pressed.

“They do, but they apparently want to debrief us before we meet. Though whether that’s to discuss strategy, yell at us for breaking protocol, or get additional information, I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s a long ways to come to speak to someone you could have without traveling so far,” Etta cautioned. “There’s got to be more to it than that. It’s more like they actually want the negotiations to fail.”

The outpost on Torrsin was a single self-contained military station attached to an orbiting spaceport positioned well above the planet’s surface. After all, you can’t easily land a large space-going vessel without tremendous fuel reserves needed to relaunch it again. The world barely supported life—certainly nothing oxygen based—so it wasn’t considered valuable enough to develop. It would cost more to bring in the necessary equipment than a mining operation might produce.

The ship’s crew exited along a connecting passageway between the ship and the command post. As they entered, there were military police directing everyone where to go. As the humans and their associates approached, they were waved to the side.

“You Al the human?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You’re wanted in the council room.”

“Council? Is that like in providing council, or requiring counsel?” Al teased, but the military police saw no particular humor in it. “Your people should continue to the residence quarters, we have a special suite reserved for you.”

“Wait, I’m being separated from my associates and my bond-mates, in a secure facility, while my people are shunted aside separate from the rest of the ship’s crew? What’s going on here? Am I under arrest?”

“You’ll discover what it’s about when you reach the council chambers.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going anywhere without legal counsel, or the support of my associates or wives.”

“You’re not officially married to anyone.”

“I most certainly am,” he protested, though the only marriage was one he conducted himself as captain of their own ship after leaving Earth.

“You’ve got no official Tandorian marital standing. Thus you have no rights or privileges normally associated with normal pair-bonded mates.”

“I don’t like this,” Betty warned.

“We don’t either,” Ivan stated, stepping close to the one guard, staring into his face from only an inch away. “I smell a skunk.”

“Back up, or we’ll be forced to take defensive action.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Myi, Bi and Adulla insisted.

“Please, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Gary cautioned, as he, Del and Siss stepped forward, indicating their tattoos. “We’re military security, just like you. Come on, level with us. What’s up? Are they under arrest, are there charges pending? Are they being questioned, or is this simply a misunderstanding?”

“They didn’t inform us of the details,” the one officer said. “All we know is they wanted Al the Precog to proceed directly to the council chambers. We’re not about to allow you to bring a group intent on causing trouble—whatever their role.”

“That’s vague enough,” Eli said, “I’m going to caution them to file for legal representation before they say, do or go anywhere. If you want to arrest him, you will have to do it here, in front of the entire ship’s crew, as well as file charges as you take him into custody. Since you have no clue what this is about, I suspect you’re unprepared to risk the legal liability it will expose you to.”

The two officers considered each other, obviously unnerved, not anticipating this much trouble with a simple redirection. “As far as we know, there are no charges being filed and no one is under arrest. The station’s military chief simply wants to interrogate Al, alone, to determine certain specific facts.”

“There’s another pesky term, ‘interrogate’,” Al pointed out. “That sounds more like they’re hoping to implicate me in something I haven’t been accused of, rather than simply talking over a beer.”

“It’s clearly a military matter, so there’s obviously no alcohol or bars involved, though as we said, so far there are no charges pending.”

“And yet, I’m assuming I really have no choice,” Al pressed.

The two security officers glanced at each other again. “We ... uh, weren’t told how to handle this.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem with standard military thinking,” Al said, motioning to indicate the facility surrounding them—which only drew the attention of everyone nearby. “They don’t equip their people with enough information to make their own decisions, and without the ability to make those choices, they’re largely unmotivated to try something new.”

“No one wants security to try anything new,” the second officer mumbled.

“It’s not a matter of inventing your own rules. It’s about taking pride in your work and putting forth the effect necessary to prove your worth. Without confidence and encouragement, no one invests anything in their tasks, and nothing ever happens.”

“He’s right,” a member of their ship’s crew said, approaching the group clustered by the side of the entrance ramp. “They’ve encouraged us to think independently, solving problems ourselves, and our ship has never functioned so efficiently. Hell, if it wasn’t for his influence, we’d never have bested the Zssizliq!”

“If the military brass was willing to take chances,” another of the Blissful Destruction‘s warriors declared, “this wouldn’t be our only decisive win. They’re only limiting themselves.”

Seeing they were becoming more outnumbered than they already were, the security officers began backing up, one’s furrowed brows revealing he was communicating with their superiors. Realizing things were about to escalate, with the station’s military potentially declaring the Blissful Destruction‘s crew in open revolt, Al decided to change tactics.

“Look, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll accompany you, but I want a few assurances that I’m not being railroaded. I need a military lawyer there to represent me, since I still don’t know what kind of trouble I’m in. If it proves unnecessary, I can always dismiss him, but I won’t say anything unless I know I’m not somehow implicating myself.

“Next, I want my people with me. While I don’t want everyone, I do want my bond-mate Betty and someone else who was there on the bridge when everything took place, Zita. They’ll add necessary information on what occurred, backing up what I say. If I have that, I’ll accompany you, though I won’t guarantee I’ll roll over and play dead.”

The one officer’s brows twitched before he relented. “Fine, we’ll escort the three of you to the council room, and we’ll allow Admiral Brskll to explain what’s happening.”

Before progressing, Al turned, addressing everyone gathered, still looking like they were ready for a fight. “All right, we’re going to talk to the Admiral. I want the rest of you to take it easy. I don’t want anyone getting themselves in trouble, embarrassing the Blissful Destruction or Captain Yitzl. I’m sure we can resolve this, after all, I can’t imagine they’re going to punish me for winning a decisive battle.”

With that, they accompanied their guards.

“You don’t argue with a master negotiator without conceding a few things,” someone observed.

____________________
“It’s about time you arrived,” the commander of the Torrsin base said as all three stood while Al and the others entered the room. “We were about to send a battalion unit down to extricate our security personnel.”

“There was never a threat to anyone, but I don’t like being questioned for doing my duty.”

“You’re not under arrest,” the Admiral declared. “We’re only trying to determine exactly what happened.” He turned to indicate the man beside him. “I’m Admiral Brskll and this is Captain Grrsk.”

“I assume the other man is my attorney?”

“It is. He’s Commander Pillsk. It took some doing to get him here in time.”

“Just so you know, we’re on shaky legal ground here. No one has performed this type of military representation for centuries.”

“Yeah, since your aids started reporting every stray thought anyone has, convicting them before they have a chance to make up their mind. That’s why you’re currently in a morass. Everyone is terrified of trying anything new, and your old tactics have failed repeatedly.”

“Yeah, we know about your dislike of Tandorians,” Captain Grrsk snarled.

“Not at all, I admire and respect your rich culture, your creativity and expertise. However, during your current struggle, you’ve lost sight of the very things which made you such a tremendous and vibrant empire. You need to get your people thinking creatively if you hope to turn this war around. The one time I try something different, and succeed, I’m called to the carpet for my actions.”

“You’re not exactly helping your position,” Pillsk cautioned.

“We’re not disciplining anyone ... yet. We simply want to determine what occurred, and what you promised our enemies.”

“I made no promises of any kind. What I did, was to open a dialogue, the first you’ve had in a long, long time.”

“Just tell us what happened,” Brskll urged.

“Before I do, may I ask what the Tandora high command has to say about this inquiry?” Betty clutched Al’s hand, hoping to prevent him from landing himself before a court martial.

“Yeah, I’m interested in that as well,” Pillsk said, sitting up a little straighter.

“They’re taking your actions under advisement, but until they decide how to respond, we’re officially in charge of how to proceed. If you provide us with sufficient information to justify your decisions, we’ll pass the report along.”

“So in the interim, I’m being hung out to dry until they see how the political winds are blowing as word of my achievements begin to spread.”

“Unless we decide you took advantage of your privilege, violating policy and endangering the military, in which case you’ll be charged and sent back in shame,” Brskll reminded him. “Now please, you are required to report your activities.”

“I concur,” Pillsk advised, “it’s time you came clear and spoke in your own defense, rather than provoking those who hold your ultimate survival in their hands.”

“It’s a little complicated, but we decided we weren’t going to get far by sticking close to the standing Tandorian fleet. So we agreed to strike deep into unknown Zssizliq territory.”

“And what were you planning to do if attacked?” Grrsk challenged.

“We planned for that. Since we were sent out to establish whether we could withstand the Zssizliq telepathic scans, we came to a complete stop after entering the region, so we’d be prepared to withdraw, if we encountered trouble—after withstanding their scan.”

“All right, it’s a questionable but rational strategy, so what happened?”

“One of the troubles with your aids, is they’re too damn efficient. While that’s beneficial, it means everything is competing for resources, which limits how effective any single biological process is. Since we can ... constrain ours, I went into isolation, shutting down the aids’ other duties while I evaluated potential risks. As a result, the aids aiding my natural precognition were able to boost my abilities beyond the normal level. Scanning the possible destinations, I detected increased exposure in certain regions, and by advancing or scaling back the distance, I could control the various contingencies. Once I located a suitable encounter, I pulled back to a ‘safe’ level.”

“A handy ability, unfortunately not one anyone besides you can manage.”

“You could, if you learned to control your damn aids. But you Tandorians have become too accustomed to having everything done for you. They can be programmed, just establish a few controls.”

“No one living has any experience with that type of programming.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t be done, it only means it’s a little more difficult.”

“Go on, what happened next.”

“We jumped into the system to find the expected Zssizliq ship. By the time we came to a full stop, they fired at us. But since I’d determined a safe distance, they couldn’t target accurately and the shot went wild. Taking the necessary time for a more controlled shot, we fired three volleys, each of which struck. One hit their reactor triggering its total failure. With no power, not even for life support, the Zssizliq had no option but to abandon ship.”

“If we can analyze that shot and repeat it, we could change the outcome of future battles.”

“Only if you’re willing to take your time firing,” Al cautioned. “Again, standard protocol is to fire continuously, whether you hit anything or not.”

“I’m not sure we can urge ship captains to risk their entire crews to take a single shot.”

“Maybe not, but again, if you’re unable to take risks, you’ll only continue repeating what you’ve already done.”

“Go on, what happened then?”

“Before we could proceed, the Zssizliq, realizing they were completely defenseless, contacted us, pleading for their lives. Their emergency shuttles had no defensive capabilities, and they could have been easily picked off.”

“And what makes you think they deserved to go free?” Grrsk demanded. “If you’d eliminated them, they wouldn’t pose further risks to our ships.”

“And they’d continue slaughtering everyone aboard those vessels. Offering a little compassion works in our favor, as the results demonstrate.”

“And how did you get involved in the negotiations?” Brskll asked.

“When we received the message, Captain Yitzl was struggling to fashion a response. As I’ve been studying their language, preparing for an encounter, I stepped in to fill the gap.”

“Most junior officers receive such training, though it’s been a long time since anyone’s used it,” Grrsk said. “The majority of our command personnel would be in similar straits.”

“And how do you know so much about it?” Brskll pressed.

“I never understood why they wouldn’t communicate with us, so I wanted to understand why. As you’ve no doubt noticed, there’s very little recorded about why communications broke down in the first place. As a result, I immediately identified myself as an Earthling and a newcomer to this conflict—an outsider, if you will. I then offered to contact the Zssizliq forces to arrange their eventual rescue.”

“Not a wise move. A nearby ship could easily intercept you before you could escape.”

“Not to mention,” Grrsk countered, “we could have captured those stranded and interrogated them, learning vital intel your actions have now denied us.”

“And tell me, just how successful have your previous interrogations gone. From what I understand, only one particular class of their people is able to communicate verbally with us, so you’d have wasted months torturing those unable to provide answers. But getting back on topic, the fear of some other ship intercepting us is overblown. They aren’t the mindless killing machines you’ve always assumed. They care about the welfare of their people. If they attacked, all those lives would be lost. Besides, we were prepared to move, there’s no way they could catch up to us before we were back to our fleet, where they’d face overwhelming odds.”

“We’ll assume you were right in trusting your judgment, how did they respond.”

“Since we were already in contact with them, I asked for the location of their nearest ship. When they provided it, I conveyed we’d allow them to rescue their crew, once we determined there was no further risk to us. But because I allowed them the one concession, they decided I was worth trusting, even if it was only conditional.”

“You’re clearly no military thinker,” Grrsk argued. “If you’d destroyed the survivors, or simply left them to die, you could have intercepted the ship, killing even more of the disgusting insects.”

“Was that your original intent?” Admirl Brskll asked, ignoring his underling.

“No, but since both sides have been so unrelenting, I couldn’t see how continuing the pattern benefited either of us. So I decided to try something different. I also picked up by their ... phrasing, that they were aware of our habit of trophy hunting. Not being familiar with it myself, I asked around, and got a trustworthy lead. When a team sent out to ensure their ship was incapacitated tripped a booby trap, I requested that Captain Yitzl recall everyone and accompany me to meet them as they returned. I intercepted the one officer, and sure enough, we discovered his trophies, bejeweled desiccated Zssizliq skulls. Knowing they took the honor of their dead seriously from their earlier comments, I insisted the practice cease. We then collected all the trophies stored onboard—with no penalties for anyone voluntarily turning them in. Once assembled, I left them in a spare evacuation shuttle for the new Zssizliq ship to collect.”

“Again,” Grrsk growled, “a serious mistake, as it offers proof of our malfeasance and a reason to retaliate for an act we do not condone.”

“We may not condone it, but we let the actions continue and make no attempt to curtail it. And since they’re fully aware of the practice, they didn’t retaliate, but decided I might be worth communicating with. By acknowledging we’re at least partially at fault, and are attempting to make amends, I earned their trust. Granted, that trust might not buy us much in the long run, but for now, it opened communications. If nothing else, it’ll help us comprehend what motivates them, so we can better understand why they dislike and distrust us so much.”