Chapter 7: Royal Flush

“Why do you suspect Elysiedde?” Moralez asked as he walked between Boyd and Lorza, the trio heading towards the recreation center. “Elysians don’t really do the whole assassination thing, they’re all about honor and tackling their problems head-on. They’d probably call the practice cowardly if anything.”

“What people say in public and what they do in private are rarely congruent,” Boyd replied. “Even a warrior culture will abandon their honor and duty if it means accomplishing an important enough goal.”

“But the Elysians are some of our staunchest allies,” Moralez continued, “I doubt very much that they would put that relationship in jeopardy.”

“They’ve also lost thousands of troops to the Betelgeusians. Perhaps their concept of honor demands retribution, did you consider that? How did he respond when the Bug entered the conference room on the hub?”

“Angry, surprised,” Moralez replied with a shrug. “The same reaction that everyone else had, pretty much.”

“I think you will find that much of what the Elysians profess to believe in is merely bluster,” Lorza said, slowing her loping stride to match pace with the shorter humans. “Theirs is a culture of posturing and grandstanding, khvastovstvo, their social status very much relies upon it. Theirs is also a feudal kingdom, one of court intrigue, and careful political maneuvering.”

“What’s the dossier on this guy?” Boyd asked her.

“He is the nephew of Patriarch Elysiedde, a decorated soldier who served in the Royal Guard before being appointed to the role of ambassador. How much of that decoration was due to nepotism, rather than personal achievement, it is hard to say. He is certainly less qualified for the role than some of the other choices that must have been available to the Patriarch, but he no doubt wanted someone close to him in the position. We should assume that the ambassador will report anything that he hears to the Patriarch, so try to be a little more delicate than usual when it comes to discussing matters of state.”

“The Elysians are nothing if not proud,” Moralez added. “Accusing the ambassador of wrongdoing directly, or trying to provoke a reaction out of him would be the wrong move. I’m looking at you, Agent Boyd.”

“I can be tactful when the situation calls for it,” he replied, feigning indignation.

They arrived at the recreation center, the aroma of cigarette smoke stinging their noses as the automatic door closed behind them. The bar was mostly vacant, and the majority of the tables were empty. It was early in the day, and so there weren’t too many personnel off-duty.

Torza Elysiedde was easy to spot in his ruby-red armor, his mane of orange hair giving him away. He was sitting with another Elysian, a female, the table piled high with meat dishes. It appeared that the ambassador was sharing a banquet with a friend. As they approached, Moralez recognized her. It was Raz, an old friend of his, and the ambassador’s cousin. She was the unofficial Matriarch of the station, she had written the proverbial book on integration training, and she tutored the new Borealan arrivals. She had helped Moralez out during his rehabilitation, and the two had become quite close.

Her round ears lifted from her short-cropped hair as they approached, a smile cracking her face. Just like her cousin, she was tall for a Borealan, over eight feet. Their family came from good stock. She wore a Navy-blue uniform that did a poor job of concealing her muscular figure, and her porcelain skin was covered with a smattering of pink scars where it wasn’t coated in rust-colored, striped fur.

“Robocop!” she exclaimed, waving him over with one of her clawed hands. “Come, join us.”

“Robocop?” Boyd whispered with a smirk, Moralez shushing him. Raz certainly didn’t lack in the personality department, and her quirks sometimes got her into trouble, but they were on good enough terms that he let her nicknames slide.

“Ambassador Elysiedde,” Moralez said as he approached their table, “Raz.”

“Who are your friends, Chief?” Raz asked as she eyed his companions. Her feline pupils lingered on Lorza for a moment before switching back to Boyd, her grin taking on a mischievous quality.

“These are agents Boyd and Lorza of the UNNI,” he explained, gesturing to them with a polymer hand. “They’ve been assigned to assist me in my investigation.”

“Ninnies, eh? Stan told me about what happened on the hub,” she replied, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. “How’s it coming?”

“We’re making progress. It’s fortunate that you’re here, Raz. I was going to track you down and ask you if you’d heard any whisperings that might have escaped my attention...”

Raz had a lot of connections in the Borealan community on the station, both Polar and Equatorial. She was friends with all of the aliens that Moralez knew, including Kaisha, and she was generally the first to know of any rumors that were doing the rounds.

“Nothing yet, but I’ll be sure to let you know if anything interesting crops up. So, what brings you down to our little dive, Chief?”

“We have business with the ambassador,” Moralez replied. “We wondered if we could take up a little of your time?” he asked, turning to Elysiedde. “It’s about the assassination attempt.”

“I was wondering when you might arrive,” the ambassador replied. Moralez watched as he hooked what looked like a juicy piece of steak with his curved claws, bringing it to his mouth and taking a generous bite. There was a tall stack of them, along with a dozen plates that were all piled high with exotic meats and dishes. When he was done chewing, he used his prehensile tongue to lick his fingers, cleaning his fur with its feline barbs. Borealans had no use for cutlery, it wasn’t a part of their culture. “I have complied with your government’s request to remain on this station because it suits me, and perhaps to take advantage of its facilities,” he added as he took another wet bite. “There are far worse places to be confined.”

“And we appreciate your cooperation, of course,” Moralez replied. “May we sit?”

“By all means,” he replied, the trio pulling up chairs from neighboring tables. Lorza eyed the food hungrily, Polars never passed up a free meal. Hopefully, she wouldn’t embarrass them by asking for table scraps...

“Raz,” Moralez began, “Admiral Vos has tasked me with keeping the identity of the ambassador who was targeted in the assassination attempt a secret. But, since it’s you, I’m assuming that-”

“I know about the Bug,” she replied smugly, leaning across the table to whisper to him.

“Can I expect your discretion? This is one rumor that I would prefer didn’t spread too far.”

“Your wish is my command,” she replied with a dramatic wave of her hand, “I know when I’m being asked to keep my big mouth shut. Now, do you want me to leave so that you boys can discuss your official business, or can I stay and assist? I’d like to support cousin Torza in his hour of need,” she added, shooting Elysiedde a smirk.

“You might as well stay,” Moralez replied, “perhaps you can provide us with a little more context.”

“If you asked me to remain on the station,” Elysiedde interjected, his deep voice echoing through the room. “Then you haven’t found your culprit yet, am I right?”

“That is correct, Ambassador,” Moralez replied. “We’re still investigating.”

“And am I to assume that you have come here to accuse me of this transgression?”

“That’s certainly not how we would put it,” Moralez added hastily, glancing to Raz in search of support. “You are not a suspect as such, we simply want to interview every person who attended the meeting in turn in order to get a better picture of what happened.”

“You were first on our list, as the representative of the Coalition’s most important ally,” Lorza added. That seemed to please the ambassador, and he nodded approvingly as he took another large bite of steak. Moralez wanted to warn her not to patronize Elysiedde too much with Raz in the room, but he had no way to do so without it being obvious. She might pick up on it, even if her cousin didn’t.

“Then ask your questions, Security Chief. I will cooperate.”

“Agent Boyd, if you would go over the details of the case,” Moralez suggested.

“Very well,” Boyd replied, “here are the facts as we know them so far. During the security council meeting, a modified railgun weapon was fired from the outer hull of the torus, narrowly missing the Bug ambassador in the hub. Whoever pulled the trigger would have had no way of seeing inside the room, which suggests that someone in that meeting was feeding them information, most likely in the form of some kind of scanner or transmitter that they had smuggled past the security check. That means that one of the ambassadors was likely working with the assassin.”

“Then I am expected to defend my honor?” Elysiedde asked, stabbing his claws into a hunk of meat in a way that came across as more than a little threatening. “I should warn you, Security Chief, my people do not take baseless accusations lightly.”

Moralez glanced at Raz, giving her a silent plea for help. It was more than a little fortunate that she was here, she was the foremost expert on human-Borealan relations, and she might be uniquely positioned to calm her cousin if the interrogation should take a sour turn.

“Hear them out, cousin,” she said as she reached over to give him a hearty pat on the back that would probably have broken a human’s spine. “I’m sure they mean you no disrespect, they want only to see this coward thwarted. Do we not share in that desire?”

“We do,” he said with a nod, turning his yellow eyes to Moralez as he selected another choice cut. He withdrew a small vial from a pouch on his belt, uncorking it and sprinkling some of the contents onto the meat to season it. “Proceed with your questions, but I advise you to word them ... politely.”

“Your record states that you served as a Royal Guard back on Borealis,” Boyd began, “why don’t you start by telling us what that entails?”

“The duty of a Royal Guard is to ensure the safety of the Patriarch and his realm,” Torza replied. “Much like your UNN, the Elysian military has many different branches. We have the general Army, the Ranger volunteer corps, mounted vehicle divisions, a burgeoning Navy. The Royal Guards are the most focused on defense and bodyguard duty, they have a symbolic significance to our people.”

“So you never served as a Shock Trooper in the Coalition?” Boyd asked.

“No,” he replied, “I was made an ambassador when Elysia joined the alliance. I have served my nation in that capacity ever since.”

“Yet you are a decorated soldier,” Lorza added, “in what campaigns did you serve?”

“In the modern era, before Elysia made contact with aliens, we fought against nomadic tribes and Rask raiding parties that attacked from the desert. There have been no large wars in living memory, not since the original conquest of the lakes, in which the boundaries of the Borealan territories were cemented.”

“Forgive me,” Boyd added, “but you don’t strike me as an especially peaceful people.”

“And you would be correct, Agent,” Raz replied, joining in on their discussion. “The Borealan territories center around the great lakes of our planet, giant oases ringed by jungle bands that break up hundreds of miles of desert. Our ancestors were nomads who waged wars to take control of the lakes, but once those territories were established, the large distances between them made conflict impractical. Trekking across the desert to invade neighboring territories is a big fat waste of time.”

“Then you have no personal vendetta against the Bugs?” Boyd asked. “You’ve never faced them in combat?”

“What are your opinions of the Betelgeusians?” Moralez asked, phrasing the question a little differently. “I’m interested to hear the perspective of a soldier who has no personal experience with them. Such a thing is increasingly rare these days.”

“They are an enemy of Elysia,” Torza replied, “that alone is enough to warrant my hatred. That said,” he continued, holding up a piece of dripping meat in his claws and examining it as he was lost in thought for a moment. “I believe that they serve a useful purpose. Without conflict, our warriors grow weak, complacent. This way, they can go to war and gain invaluable experience, all without a direct threat to Elysia. They fight for glory and for duty rather than for survival, taking part in battles that are fought untold miles from their homes, and I would have it no other way. A professional military with modern training and ample experience is an invaluable asset to any state.”

“That’s a more ... pragmatic reply than I was expecting,” Moralez muttered, glancing at Boyd and raising an eyebrow. The ambassador might be a little boorish at times, but he knew more about warfare than anyone gave him credit for. Perhaps his appointment to the position wasn’t entirely a result of nepotism.

“Don’t you worry about what might happen if a Bug fleet jumped into Borealan orbit?” Boyd asked. “Borealis is right on the edge of Coalition space, it’s under considerable threat.”

“That is none of my concern,” he replied, occupying himself with another mouthful of unidentifiable meat. “Borealis has no fleet,” he continued, talking with his mouth full as he chewed noisily. “Elysia has but a handful of ships, they could not stand against a hive fleet. But that is why there is a substantial UNN presence in orbit. We provide you with Shock Troopers for your armies, and you guard our skies. It would fall upon your people to ward off an invading fleet, not mine.”

“Guess he’s got us there,” Boyd muttered, nudging Moralez with his elbow.

“Raz,” Lorza added, getting the attention of the red-headed woman. “What is the attitude towards the Betelgeusians amongst the Elysian soldiers on the station?”

“Honestly, they’re more concerned about the worsening relations with the Rask territory than with any theoretical Bug invasion of the homeworld,” she replied with a shrug. “Call it short-sighted, but the more immediate and tangible problems will always take precedent.”

“But many of them have lost friends and packmates to the insects?” Lorza continued.

“Honor requires that such deaths be avenged,” Raz admitted with a nod of her head, “but that tends to happen pretty quickly. If you’re facing a horde of Bugs and one of your buddies catches a plasma bolt to the face, you can fire into the crowd with your eyes closed and kill ten of ‘em before his body has hit the ground. There’s no shame in dying in battle, it’s an aspiration more than a fear. No, I don’t think you’ll find the motivation that you seek amongst my people, Agent.” She reached out and swiped a cut of meat from her cousin’s plate, smirking at his growling. “We’re just ... not all that torn up about it.”

“There will be another council meeting soon, Ambassador,” Moralez said. “Likely sometime in the following days. Would it be appropriate to ask how you will be voting?”

“If you expect me to vote in favor of the insects in an attempt to clear my name, I will not,” Elysiedde declared as he wiped the juice from his lips with the back of his hand. “Truth be told, I have not decided yet. There are many factors to consider. If you must have an answer, then I would say that my attitude towards their kind is ... unfavorable. Now, if you will excuse me, I must regale my cousin with tales of her littermate’s exploits. She has been away from home for a very long time.”

That was their cue to leave, and Moralez wasn’t sure if they could get anything more out of the ambassador. He stood, and the two agents followed suit.

“Thank you for your time, Ambassador, Raz. We’ll leave you to your meal.”

“See you around, Robocop,” Raz replied with a wink.

The trio made for the exit, Boyd sighing in exasperation once they were back on the torus, mingling with the crowd.

“Well, that wasn’t much of an interview,” he complained. “Lorza, you pick up on anything? Think he was lying or holding something back?”

“The impression I get from the ambassador is that he is honest to a fault,” she grumbled, crossing her arms beneath her ample chest as her round ears flicked with irritation. “He says always what is on his mind, and how others react is of little concern. He is like an open book ... whose pages are smeared with condiments. I doubt that he could lie successfully if he tried.”

“It sounds to me like the Elysians are pretty relaxed about the whole thing,” Moralez added, “I don’t think we can establish a solid motive here. He’s never personally fought the Bugs, his government doesn’t seem to see them as an immediate threat, and his countrymen seem to view the whole war as just one big training exercise.”

“Makes you wonder just what they think they’re training ‘for’,” Boyd muttered.

“Borealis has never been invaded,” Lorza said, “they have never faced an external threat. Their conflicts happen between territories, not between planets. The auxiliaries that they provide as part of their commitment to the Coalition travel light-years from home, and fight their battles on far-off planets that couldn’t even be seen from their homelands with a telescope. It is not hard to understand how they might see regional problems as being more pressing. It is foolish, no doubt, but understandable.”

“God forbid a hive fleet should ever make landfall on Borealis,” Moralez added with a shake of his head. “Can you imagine the chaos? The Rask wouldn’t want any Elysians to set foot in their territory, the Araxie would refuse to work with the Rask, and we’re not even in formal contact with half of the other territories. Trying to organize them would be a logistical nightmare.”

“Maybe we should put all of our support behind a favored territory and help them to overthrow the rest,” Boyd suggested with a decidedly sinister smile. “Make sure we pick a winner who does as they’re told.”

“Yes, I’m sure installing puppet governments is the solution,” Moralez replied with a disapproving frown. “You’re UNNI through and through, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? They pay us to think outside of the box.”

“Let’s keep you securely inside the box while you’re on my station, how about that?”

“Come,” Lorza interrupted, giving Boyd an encouraging push with her furry hand. “We must interview the next ambassador, the Security Chief has no time for petty arguments.”

“Alright, alright,” Boyd grumbled. “Don’t get your tail in a twist.”

“How do I look?” Holly asked, standing before the monitor that was mounted on the wall in the living room. Harry had moved the furniture out of the way to clear some space for the conference, and with a little encouragement, Blackjack had shuffled away to continue his nap out of view.

“Very ambassadorial,” he replied. “Are you ready? The Araxie delegate should be comin’ online any minute now.”

She nodded, then reached up towards one of her antennae with an upper hand, running her fingers through the fine hairs like a cat cleaning its whiskers. The standby symbol on the monitor changed to an animation of a wireless signal, Holly looking to Harry for reassurance.

“It’s startin’,” he warned, stepping clear so that the camera didn’t pick him up. The screen flickered, and then the face of the Araxie ambassador appeared. Her coat of velvety, black fur reflected the light to give her a distinct shine, her eyes a striking shade of emerald green. Unlike the pink of her Borealan cousins, her nose and lips were the same charcoal color as her fur, and her hair was cropped into a neat bob. She was shown from the chest up, her black, two-piece suit matching the color of her fur save for the white collar. It was a perfect fit, perhaps tailored, giving her an air of class and formality that many of her counterparts lacked due to their strange choice of alien attire. She radiated confidence, reminding Harry of a business executive, or some kind of CEO. He wasn’t usually one for chasing tails, but her poise was enough to make him reconsider.

“Ambassador Zuki,” Holly began with a bow of her head, “thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

“That is my job, after all,” the Araxie replied with a smile. “You never gave us a name when you appeared in the conference room so abruptly. What would you have me call you?”

“Ambassador will suffice,” Holly replied.

“As you wish, Ambassador. I can guess as to the purpose of this call, you hope to earn my favor before the next council meeting, you want to gain my vote.”

“You would be correct,” Holly admitted, Zuki cocking her head curiously as she listened. “I am not here to play games or to maneuver my way into a more favorable position. I am not negotiating a trade deal in which I can seek higher profits, or the minutia of a treaty, I come before you seeking only to ensure the survival of my people. With most species, their right to exist is assumed, it is their default state. The Jarilans differ in that we descend from a race who have been dehumanized, viewed as pests, undesirables. We do not consider ourselves victims, we understand why this is the case. All I ask is the opportunity to prove that we are different, to demonstrate our value to the Coalition.”

“And what value is that?” Zuki asked. “I know why you have chosen to direct your efforts towards swaying me. My people have no history with yours, we bear no grudges, we have not yet fought one another. I am an obvious choice for securing your winning vote.”

“My intention is not to deceive you,” Holly replied, her confidence faltering a little. “What you say is true, you may be my best chance to secure a majority vote. But it is not charity that I ask of you, only your fair consideration. The Jarilo colony has much to offer the Coalition. Our knowledge of genetics far exceeds that of any other member species, we possess biomechanical technology that has no equivalent, and our manpower will become impressive given enough time.”

“Weapons and soldiers might tempt the more ... aggressive members of the Coalition,” Zuki said with a wry smile, “but we Araxie have different interests. We are what you might call a developing territory, we are in the process of industrializing.”

“Then you are uniquely positioned to benefit from what we can offer,” Holly insisted. “Your first spacecraft could be cultivated in Jarilan shipyards, tailored to your every need, living craft that need little maintenance. Your people could benefit from our genetic technologies, making them stronger and longer-lived, more resistant to illness. We could build cities and factories for you with armies of Workers who need no rest.”

“You offer much, Ambassador, yet you ask little in return. I know enough about your people to recognize that this present ... vulnerability ... is only temporary. Sooner than many of us can comprehend, your hive will once again be at full strength, and with that comes the possibility that it will return to an aggressive state. I cannot help but suspect that your promise of lavish gifts is only a ploy designed to buy you time. What guarantees can you give me?”

Holly was lost in thought, her furry antennae waving, her eyes darting back and forth as the gears in her head turned. Harry was beginning to doubt whether she had an answer. The Araxie was right, there was no guarantee that she could give, she was asking for trust from a position of absolute weakness. She was currently in ‘I’ll pay you back, I swear’ territory, and Ambassador Zuki was holding all of the cards. Harry watched as her pink eyes returned to the monitor, her lower pair of fists clenching.

“There is currently a UNN war fleet in orbit above Jarilo,” she began. “It has enough firepower to reduce the valley in which my colony was founded to cinders. That same valley is surrounded on all sides by fortified UNN outposts that have been tasked with containing us should we prove troublesome. My people are locked in a cage with a gun squarely pointed at their heads. If your trust is too much to ask, then perhaps the knowledge that we can be utterly eradicated with a single order will be enough to assuage your concerns.”

Zuki’s confident smile faltered a little, she didn’t appear to like the way that Holly’s proposal sounded.

“Tell me, Ambassador,” she replied. “Do you believe that the Workers that you offered to provide would be able to coordinate with Valbaran architects to construct ecologically sound cities and manufacturing centers in the Araxie territory? We are facing problems attempting to modernize while also preserving our way of life and the jungles that surround us. Proposals by the UNN and the Brokers have been ... less than satisfactory.”

“Gladly,” Holly replied, almost failing to conceal her relief. “It is my understanding that the Valbarans excel at designing urban centers that blend seamlessly with the nature around them. I am confident that Jarilan Workers could accelerate the construction process by several orders of magnitude, perhaps even completing projects in months, rather than years.”

“And if the Araxie were to pledge their support for your application,” Zuki continued, “am I to assume that the Jarilans would prioritize said projects?”

“I’m sure that my Queen would see it as an opportunity to express her gratitude,” Holly said, picking up on the ambassador’s sly tone. She really was attuned to the subtleties of social interaction.

“Good,” the Araxie replied, her confident smile returning. “You have given me much to consider, Ambassador. I cannot give you an answer immediately, but consider the Araxie ... interested.”

Holly bowed her head low, her dangling antennae brushing the carpet.

“Thank you for your consideration, Ambassador Zuki. We will not forget this.”

Zuki gave her a gentle nod, then closed the connection, the feed cutting out. Holly seemed to deflate, her four arms hanging limply at her sides now that she didn’t have to keep up appearances.

“That went better than I expected,” Harry said, walking over to stand beside her. She glanced up at him, a head shorter than the six-foot human, the plates that made up her face arranging into a smile that he was finding less and less objectionable the more time that he spent with her.

“It is not certain yet, but Ambassador Zuki sounds like she intends to vote in our favor. She is certainly wily, I expect that if she supports us, she will expect some form of rebate or discount on the construction projects in exchange. It is a price that we are more than willing to pay if we are buying our survival.”

“What do Bugs charge for construction jobs?” Harry wondered aloud.

“I do not know,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with a dainty hand in a way that mimicked the human gesture exactly. “I do not believe that a Bug has ever charged anyone for anything before. We will have to learn more so as not to be taken advantage of in the future.”

“Do you still want to talk to the Valbarans?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “There is a chance that the Araxie ambassador will change her mind, however remote. I should attempt to secure as many votes as possible.”

“The Valbarans seemed a little more ... agitated when you arrived,” Harry added, “what’s your approach?”

“The Araxie has given me some ideas,” she replied. She reached up and began to clean her antennae with her upper arms, like someone stroking their beard while deep in thought. “I have something to offer them that I believe they want dearly. It remains to be seen if their hatred will overpower their desire.”

“Then I’ll make the call,” Harry said with a nod. “Want a hot chocolate to calm your nerves, or would that detract from your statesmanship?”

“I would like a hot chocolate,” she replied with a smile.

“I’m tellin’ you, Vos isn’t going to like this,” Boyd complained as he hurried to match pace with Moralez. He was marching along with purpose, the bustling crowds of Navy personnel in the military quarter parting before him as though they could somehow sense his determination.

“I don’t care what Admiral Vos does and does not like,” he snarled, making a beeline for one of the massive hangar doors that towered over the walkway. “I will conduct this investigation as I see fit. If he wants to obstruct me, then he’s free to do that, but I’ll go to the Admiralty if I have to. It’s one thing to discipline me for what happened on the hub, but it’s quite another to actively prevent me from carrying out my duties. There’s no way that he can sell that to the other Admirals.”

“Perhaps we could interview the Krell, or the Araxie ambassador instead?” Lorza asked. She was always the more diplomatic of the two.

“No point,” Moralez muttered. “The Krell wouldn’t do this, and I don’t think that the Araxie would either. They don’t have the motive, the means, or the connections to pull something like this off.”

“Shouldn’t we at least be thorough?” Boyd asked, but Moralez silenced him with a wave of his prosthetic hand.

“We interview the Broker. Nobody is above suspicion, nobody is exempt from the legal process.”

“Actually, he has diplomatic immunity,” Boyd warned. “So he is exempt from the legal process, that’s literally what that means. Lorza, help me out here, you walking carpet.”