Cosmic Catalyst (Shamans & Shifters Space Opera Book 2) Page 13
“The Freels wish to improve their standing within the union,” Alex said. “To do that, they need alliances. At the moment, they have no one. For seven generations, they’ve envied humanity’s ties with the mLa’an and Meitj as those two ancient civilizations sponsored our entry into Galaxy Proper and facilitated our establishment within its social and economic starscape. That envy prompted the brutal edge to their clashes with you.” He nodded at Kohia.
She kept the disrupter pointed at him.
Alex ignored the threat. “Recently, the Freels’ leadership has realized that in resenting humanity they’ve overlooked the possibility of using you—u— instead. Until we joined the union, they were its newest members. Now that we are, while the other member species continue to snub the Freels, the Freels could turn to us. Humanity offers them not only an ally, but an ally who has powerful allies of their own.”
“The mLa’an and Meitj,” I said, understanding. “They would use us to gain the advantages of a positive relationship with two founding members of Galaxy Proper.” I started to pace, thinking as I did so. Fortunately, the cargo hold gave me room. “But if they want an alliance with humanity, why side with Winona against President Hoffer and the other leaders of interstellar humanity?”
Ahab had the answer. “Because Galaxy Proper will, sooner or later, squash the current leaders’ arrogant ambition. Far better from the Freels’ perspective to ally themselves with the shamans. After all, it is the shamans who won humanity its entrance to, and formidable allies within, Galaxy Proper.”
“Ahab, I should be asking you for political advice,” I said. “In fact, can you download the scenarios Alex sent me and read them for me?”
“I’d be delighted!” Ahab said before Alex could do more than twitch. “Interesting…I’ll prioritize a search for data relating to the Freels.”
“I love you, Ahab.” For being on Vulf’s side, which was my side. Friends didn’t let friends face dangerous situations blind and ignorant.
Alex waved a hand. “If I promise not to use my shamanic talent against you, will you turn that thing off? Please.”
The disrupter wasn’t bothering me, but then, I hadn’t just been punched unconscious and sedated.
Vulf sighed. “Kohia, can you deactivate the disrupter, please?”
She switched it off with a click.
“Thank you,” Alex said. “The Freels want an alliance with humans. I believe—the Galactic Court mediators believe—that they would negotiate said alliance with Vulf.”
“With me? I can’t speak for humanity.”
Alex stared at him challengingly. “Can you speak for the shifter clans?”
“Yes,” Edith and Kohia said in unison.
“We’re pirates,” Kohia added. “We seize opportunities. As long as Vulf negotiated a fair or better bargain—and I believe he could with Ahab’s assistance.” She paused long enough for Ahab to murmur a gratified thank you. “The Conclave would ratify the alliance agreement.”
“Despite the Freels’ reputation and past battles?” I had to ask.
Kohia looked at me sharply, as if I was naïve. “We’re not part of humanity. We need alliances, too.”
My breath caught at that. Vulf and his family had never indicated that degree of isolationism. Inadvertently, I glanced at Alex.
He watched me with sympathy, as if inviting me to share his burden. See, his look said. This is what we must heal.
Of course, I could have been reading too much into his tired expression, but the danger here was evident to me. Shifters needed to be part of humanity—and humanity needed them. It was the same for shamans. Even generations after the Evacuation we were all Earth’s children. To be human meant to be all of us.
Winona had negotiated a one-time deal with the Freels. In doing so, she’d proven that the Freels were willing to ally with humans, if we could show our power and usefulness. The shifters’ pirate fleet had already done that. But why did Alex and the Galactic Court mediators believe that the Freels would switch allegiance from the shamans Winona commanded to the shifters of Corsairs? What could the shifters offer that the shamans couldn’t, given that the Freels had their own navy and pirates?
I would have to trust that Vulf—with Ahab’s assistance—could see the truth and a positive path through the tangled motivations and actions converging on San Juan. For myself, I’d heed Professor Summer’s advice and be true to myself. My priority was the children trapped in the Academy, while adults of varying degrees of wisdom struggled to shape the future to their desires.
“Alex, will you come with us to the Academy?” I asked.
Vulf ceased scowling at Alex and snapped his attention to me. “What are you thinking?”
“The children at the Academy need help—” And Alex was a Shaman Justice.
Alex interrupted me. “The children truly are safe. I have a sha enabled quantum communicator linked to Dan, the Academy’s weapons master. He can disable and contain the Freels and human soldiers in seconds. He’s waiting on word from me.”
Kohia looked interested.
I was, too. “You said you were friends with Dan.” But this level of friendship meant professional trust as well as personal loyalty. To Vulf, I added. “If Daniel Carson believes he has the situation under control, then he does. The children are safe.” I clasped Vulf’s hand as I reached for him through our bond.
I bit back the questions and doubts that surged through me when I thought about the aggressive Freels.
The decision on negotiating with them was Vulf’s. Just as he’d left decisions regarding shamans to me, but supported me as much as he could, I had to let him decide whether he took up Alex’s invitation—his challenge—to negotiate with the Freels who’d contracted with Winona.
The rising level of anxiety with which I waited for Vulf’s decision was a revelation. All of the times he’d offered me his unqualified support, I’d been ignorant of what it cost him. Now that it was him risking himself, not me tackling impossible sha energy challenges, I wanted to portal him away to safety.
“If the Freels are willing to talk with me, I’ll listen. Negotiations to be decided after that.” Vulf paused. “How will you we get their attention? A general broadcast seems like a bad idea.”
Given the situation at the Academy, the San Juan government had to be treated as an hostile entity. We didn’t want them learning of our intentions.
“First, we need the Freels’ attention. Then you can talk with them.” It was Alex’s turn to hesitate. “I need to meet with some people at the Academy. We have to limit the consequences of Winona’s ambition and at the same time prove to the Freels that they chose the wrong human with whom to contract. Winona always resented her minimal shamanic talent. Envy makes people stupid. As useful as it is to us, she was wrong to try and deal with the Freels.”
He gave his shoulders a shake, and his tone changed to one of command. “My position as a Shaman Justice will protect you even with the current situation on San Juan. I need you to dock long enough for me to disembark. Then you can meet up with the Freels. They have a destroyer lurking sixty four clicks away.”
A Freel destroyer sixty four clicks from the Academy? “Why haven’t the Galactic Police challenged them?” I asked.
“Because they’re lurking,” Kohia said with sour amusement. “Until the Freels do something illegal, sixty clicks is the legal requirement for an unallied warship to approach a registered planet. I know. The shifter pirate fleet uses the same loophole in the Galactic Code.”
If such a significant loophole hadn’t been closed, then the Galactic Court, and especially its mediators, had to make use of it themselves.
Kohia addressed Alex. “Shaman Justice, I can deliver you to the Academy. I have a shuttle on my starship, which is locked to the Orion.”
&n
bsp; “Who are you?” Alex asked bluntly.
Kohia smiled, and it was more a threat than anything else. “Jaya’s cousin.”
For a few seconds, Alex considered her offer and how it meshed with whatever other plans churned in his head. Then he nodded. “I accept.” He pressed a button on the wristband of his communicator. “Dan?” There was a few seconds of silence, then the weapons master’s voice came clearly from the communicator.
“Go ahead, Alex.”
“Twelve minutes. Take out the Freels and soldiers in twelve minutes. Non-lethal containment. I’ll be down a few minutes afterward. Don’t blow my shuttle out of the air.”
“See you then.”
Alex clicked the same button. The transmission ended. “We need to move fast. Ahab, I’m messaging the security codes to access the Freels’ secure communication channel.”
Vulf nodded acknowledgement. “Kohia, can your intelligence officer message us the instant he observes that the Freel guards at the Academy are neutralized?”
“Will do.” She stepped back to murmur into her communicator.
Vulf looked at Alex. “I assume they’ll slump into unconsciousness?”
“Yes. Sleeping gas within bubbles of sha energy.” It was a simple enough procedure for a skilled shaman, although they’d need a number of shamans if they were to enclose the soldiers as well as the Freels in individual bubbles of sleep.
“…they’ll fall asleep,” Kohia murmured in the background. “Jaya.” She’d ended her communication. “Let me know where you’re going. Sean will message Ahab when the Freel guards collapse. Don’t forget, we’re here for you.” She gave me a quick hug. “Vulf, negotiate for allies. That’s what keeps our shifter culture strong.”
He looked at her with an arrested expression.
Belatedly, I realized that Cyrus hadn’t sent Kohia to San Juan merely because she had a fast starship and was my cousin. Her strategic thinking was an asset we could use.
She kept her finger on the button of the disrupter. “Shaman Justice, you have a shuttle to catch. Get cracking!” A raised eyebrow had Edith hustling along with them, snatching a quick hug.
“I’m sick of meetings,” Vulf said when we were alone.
It was such a prosaic complaint in the face of the dramatic demands being made of him—interspecies negotiations, yikes!—that I laughed and hugged him.
“Freels are down,” Ahab said.
“Open communication to the Freels’ destroyer, please.” Vulf stiffened although he kept his arms around me. Apparently, this would be a voice-only transmission.
“Connected.”
Vulf nodded his thanks, but spoke to the unknown Freels. “This is Vulf Trent. Your people on San Juan have been rendered unconscious by the shamans at the Star Guild Shaman Academy. This is not treachery against you, but an internal dissension within the Academy. You chose your human ally badly. I don’t believe Winona Hayden will retain her position as chancellor of the Academy.” Alex’s attitude toward her had made that a near certainty. “Your contract with her, whatever its details will be null and void.”
“Why are you hacking our communication channel?” a male Freel asked. Even through the filtered clarity of communications, his voice had a rolling thunder to it. If that meant anything, it suggested Vulf was being answered by the Freels’ commander.
“I have a proposition,” Vulf said. “If you want human allies, negotiate with me.”
There was a long silence, indicative of what we could only guess. Perhaps our answer was the silence and the Freels weren’t willing to negotiate with Vulf? Alex’s information and the Galactic Court mediators’ scenario planning could be wrong.
I almost hoped it was. I found myself rubbing a tiny, worried circle between Vulf’s shoulder blades.
“Are you talking of an alliance or a temporary contract as we had with Winona Hayden?”
Vulf took a deep breath.
I felt his resolution.
“The shifter clans are willing to discuss an alliance with you.”
“Your mate is part of your clan?”
Vulf tightened his hold on me. The Freels knew who I was. “Yes.”
“We will talk. Station Zemph, neutral ground with non-aggression status while discussions are underway.”
“Agreed,” Vulf said.
“I am Rjee. I will meet with you on Station Zemph. I speak for my house.”
Ahab broke the moment’s silence. “The Freels closed their communication channel.”
“They agreed to negotiate with me.” A teensy hint of uncertainty and shock slowed Vulf’s usual speech pattern.
He frowned down at me.
“I could leave you with Kohia.”
“No. Where you go, trouble follows.”
He grinned at me. “Heya, trouble.”
“Not funny.” I nipped at his lower lip in a quick kiss. “We’re partners.”
Whatever the meeting with the Freels brought, we’d face it together.
Chapter 9
Station Zemph was cleaner than many independent stations. Massive atmospheric filters enabled five domes, arranged on the points of a pentagram, to be linked by an over-arching shield that allowed people to sit “outside” the dome structures without requiring spacesuits. Each dome ran an enclosed walkway out to separate docks, likewise filled with atmosphere. As each starship docked, its mooring was locked while the station’s automated system assessed the quality of air vented when the starship’s hatch opened. If the air quality was acceptable, the locked decontamination unit opened and the starship’s crew was granted freedom of the station. If the air quality raised an alert, then either entrance to the station was denied or the starship went through a decontamination procedure of the station’s choosing. The rigorous standards balanced out Station Zemph’s willingness to accept the sort of starships that would be turned away from more law-abiding space docks; like pirate fleets, unregistered starships and those that simply sought to remain anonymous.
The Orion docked without incident, and Vulf and I were granted freedom of the station. Once we had that certification of the Orion’s air quality, Ahab closed the Orion’s entrance without us exiting. There were a few things we needed to do first.
The journey to Station Zemph had taken three days. Without wormholes to speed us, we had to travel like anyone else, although the Orion’s mLa’an design meant it was faster by far than the Freels’ destroyer. Ahab was tracking the destroyer and it had something over a day’s travel to go before it reached the station. Perhaps two days.
When humanity had settled San Juan, we hadn’t realized quite what a backwater this region of space was. Since most starships avoided travelling through wormholes rated “perilous” and, without them, this region took weeks to reach from anywhere populous, it consisted predominantly of asteroid miners and skulkers.
That said, a Pteros consortium was terraforming a planet three days’ travel from San Juan. It seemed likely that they intended to exploit the number of shamans travelling to and from the Academy to gain cut-price rates for those shamans to guide Pteros starships through the wormhole jump to Origin. It was a smart idea. The Galactic Police kept the region safe, utilizing Academy shamans to guide their patrol ships through the wormhole as they cycled in and out of active duty.
The sedate nature of the sector meant that Vulf and I had been able to concentrate on our homework rather than keeping alert for danger. And by homework, I meant that I read the scenarios Alex had sent me and discussed them with Ahab, while Vulf researched everything he could get his hands on regarding the Freels, their history, current affairs, and social str
ucture. When not actively working, we watched Freel movies and cuddled on the sofa. Vulf had also spoken with Cyrus, who’d spoken with the Conclave, which—no doubt under Cyrus’s pressure—agreed that Vulf not only could, but should, negotiate with the Freels.
“We hate them,” Vulf said. “Principally because we’ve fought too many of them. They’re powerful and clever warriors. If they can be trusted as allies…” He was thoughtful. “Their society is structured in houses, somewhat similar to shifter clans. If they’re doing research on us, they’ll see the similarities. You know, shifters aren’t anything special in terms of cohesion. Our society has its stresses and strains. People can hate each other. But we understand that we either stand together or fall apart. Our freedom and independence are the result of alliances between clans formalized in the Conclave.”
I stared at him, a small smile of awe growing as he stared back with a hint of stubborn defiance. “Vulf, you wouldn’t…” Maybe his radical idea had leaked through our mate bond, but I could guess where his thinking was heading. Circumstances had conspired to push my mate into the unwanted position of negotiating with the Freels. He hadn’t been keen, but once he’d thought on the matter, he’d evidently decided on a take-no-prisoners approach. “All or nothing?”
The hint of rebellion in his gaze lightened into attractive wickedness, with a hint of smugness at his daring notion. “Why not? Either shifters and Freels agree to trust each other, or we don’t.”
I stared at him, dazzled. His idea would be a game-changer. “Is it even possible?”
He nodded seriously, humor fading into granite resolve. “Even a generation ago, it might have been too risky, but the Conclave is solid. Individual clans and families have established trades and businesses. There’s a level of security and success that breeds confidence. That confidence could slide into over-confidence and reckless decisions, or we give shifter society something meaty to chew on.”
“Like the Freels. You’re ambitious, Vulf.”
“Do you think it’s too much?”
I studied the map of Corsairs displayed on the recreation cabin’s viewscreen. The planet had vast habitable land masses and a small population. I laughed. “It’s absolutely crazy, but if the Freels agreed…we’d live in interesting times,” I quoted the old Earth saying. It had been a curse originally, May you live in interesting times.