Containment

“Wait. I’m concerned what you heard was: ‘they have no military’. What I said was ‘they currently have zero militarized presence.’ Do you understand the difference, Emissary?” I shifted my weight awkwardly between all four of my back feet as I checked the translator on my ear to make sure it was working correctly. Diplomacy had never been a strong suit of mine–it was one of the many reasons I’d been stationed out here in the black to begin with—and I was unused to dealing with someone of Emissary Krellik’s high station. Not to mention a species so hard-wired for aggression.

Unfortunately, Krellik didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. A brightly colored wing gestured imperiously. His floating perch picked up the signal and glided him closer to where I stood. “Say no army. No weapons.” His facial feathers shifted to a new display. Accusation, my translator unit informed me. “No military. Is so?”

Small tremors started in my rear legs as I subconsciously responded to the stress of actual confrontation. I was bred for collaboration and science, dammit, not for hostile conversation! I palmed a med-pack from a pouch on my belt and waited for the nano tech to do its work while seeming to consider the Emissary’s response. People say a lot of things about the Conglomerate, but they make sure us station chiefs have access to High Tech, no matter what forgotten corner of the galaxy they choose to stick us. My tremors subsided, for now.

“Ah, no,” I said. “I did say no military, but they very much have weapons. They just don’t have an official militarized caste. Currently. I really must emphasize that last word. It is very important.”

Krellik’s feathers shifted again, and my translator unit was unable to decide whether it indicated Derision or Contempt. I personally felt it was likely both, and the unit needed a software update.

“Is one System. We want. We need. We not ask permission.” Krellik stared straight into my eye. “This visit courtesy to Conglomerate. No more. No less. You not strong. A backwater station. Debris everywhere. Hit shuttle. You not get say.”

I could feel the tremors wanting to come back, even with the nanites raging in my veins. How to deal with a Ssshreet warlord had not been something they taught at the Science Academy.

“I apologize for any debris your shuttle may have encountered during docking. As you say, we are a backwater station, and may not have kept our immediate space as clean as regulations dictate. I also recognize that you do not need my permission to invade, Emissary, and I do thank you for stopping by our station before continuing on to the system in question.” I began walking toward one of the large display windows in the forward area of the meeting hall. Krellik followed a moment later on his perch, and I suppressed a sigh of relief. If he had simply left, I don’t know what I would have done. “Please take my warning to heart. Do you know why this station was established by the Conglomerate?”

Krellik said nothing, but his feathers indicated Mild Curiosity. I took that as a good sign, and gestured toward the largest window. Centered in the clear square of armored crystal was a yellow star, shining brightly against the backdrop of our galaxy. “The System in question, a full one light-year distant. I fear it is not far enough. It has two inhabited planets, and seven inhabited moons.”

“Yes,” Krellik said, interrupting my rhythm. “Is known. Came for moons. We want.”

“Ah, yes, yes just so. But what you may not know is that one of those planets is a Class IV Deathworld. It is also populated by sentient life.”

Krellik made a choking sound that the translator could not process as language. It was the first reasonable reaction I had seen out of him yet. “Not possible. If Deathworld no sentient life. By definition!” His feathers shifted rapidly, seemingly unable to settle on any one emotional signal.

“Before I was stationed here I would have said the same, Emissary. But it is true. The planet is a Class IV Deathworld, and the inhabitants have not only survived, but thrived. They are the species that has colonized the other planet and moons of this system. They are the ones without any militarized caste. They do not need it. Weapons and combat training are practiced as a…a hobby by many. Thank the Gods they lack hyper. Prolonging that lack, that’s really the purpose of this station. We cannot afford for any outside knowledge to reach them which may allow their escape from this system.” I took a deep breath. “They believe they are alone in the cosmos. If they are given reason to think otherwise…” I shook my head. “They are too potent. Too vicious. Too resilient. It would mean the end of all of us.”

Krellik displayed Disbelief, clearly over his initial shock. “One system not threaten Conglomerate. Not threaten Ssshreet.”

I wrung my hands. I could see where this was going. “Emissary, please understand. You must understand. They evolved in the gravity well of a planet, not a moon. We have checked. There are no recorded instances of sentient life ever surviving such gravity. Period. In the entire Galactic record, the Shontee are the only other species to come close, and they had to download themselves to robotic chassis before they could do so.

“The gravity on this world is over seven times the galactic average, and it has created a race the likes of which we’ve never seen. Our stealthed probes have observed members of the local species lifting objects estimated at nearly eleven standard units. I have seen the footage with my own eyes. They can run almost as fast as a Ssshreet warrior in flight, and can continue for days without rest or food in times of need.”

Krellik said nothing, his mobile facial feathers finally still as he listened.

“Plagues regularly sweep the system. These diseases evolve more quickly than we can analyze, but the inhabitants of this system are able to alter their bodies to fight off new and novel infections. If we had access to a Core World’s science cadre, my chief researcher believes we would still be unable to craft a disease that could kill them all.

“And there is more, so much more.” I tried to order my thoughts, but the tremors from earlier were finally showing themselves once again. “The air they breathe is so poisonous and corrosive our ships could only survive in atmosphere for a handful of days. They can heal from an injury that would immediately kill most people from trauma shock.” I thrust out my hands in a helpless gesture. “And worst of all, they are nearly suicidally aggressive. How such a species has survived for this long is beyond me.”

My translator unit warbled as it tried to parse several rapid changes to Krellik’s facial feathers. Mild Offense, then Amusement, now firmly back to Offense. “Ssshreet survive. Ssshreet survive worse.”

I suppressed a sigh. I should have known better than to finish with that particular argument to a warlord of all people.

“Emissary, if your people attack, I fear that you will all perish. Worse, I fear that by gathering any wreckage, they may learn enough from your hyper generators to finally escape the gravity well of their star.”

I stood as straight as possible, wishing I had argued better. Wishing I’d even had a few hours to prepare before Krellik dropped out of hyper on top of my station. Wishing my best had been better. I prayed to all the Gods I knew that Krellik would listen.

To think I could be that lucky.

Krellik held himself immobile, as only a predator species of his type could be. All that moved were his eyes, which darted back and forth, maybe tracking subtle cues I was putting out unintentionally. “Is lie,” he finally said. “Not possible your words.”

I felt my hearts drop into my stomach. Shit. “Please, Emissary. Attack the Loöo. They are a mere fifty light years from here. Or one of the Rollyn Outposts. They are nearly as close. The Conglomerate will turn a blind eye, I promise. Anywhere but here.”

Krellik displayed Anger, and I had to fight against every instinct I had, each of which was insisting I either capitulate, or flee. “Conglomerate lie. Try stop Ssshreet. No stop Ssshreet. Try stop Krellik. No stop Krellik.” He waved his perch close enough that his ebony beak was almost touching my face. “Krellik remember.”

With a twirl, Krellik swooped back down the room. He gathered his waiting entourage, and they made their way down the boarding tube and out of sight. I watched them go, staring at the empty tunnel for what seemed a lifetime. The dull clunk of disengaging maglocks jolted me back into action. I keyed my comm to the bridge.

“Senior Researcher Aoho,” I asked, “how much did you hear?”

“The whole thing.”

“Our long-range jammers are still active?”

“Imitating debris backscatter from the moment they jumped in. Emitters should hold up for another half cycle at minimum. What are your orders, Scholar?”

I shook my head, more at myself than at my second-in-command. I had done my best, had I not? I had spoken plainly to Krellik about what he faced—the oblivion he and his were about to encounter—the danger his attack would pose the rest of the galaxy. Blue lights flared to life out in the black as Krellik’s ships powered up their drives.

I had not told him everything. Perhaps I should have, but I barely admitted it to myself. Whatever I once believed, I had come to accept that the failure of our mission here was inevitable.

If not the Ssshreet, then some other race would eventually blunder into this system, despite our efforts. I knew what would come next. The locals would be afraid, then angry. And aggressive. Oh, so aggressive. They would adapt and change and warp themselves until they could reach our stars, and then they would wipe the galaxy clean. The Ssshreet did not appreciate the danger they were flying in to—hells, the Conglomerate did not even believe it, despite my repeated reports of how bad things actually were.

It was up to us. It was up to me. As it had been so many times before.

“Scholar?” Senior Researcher Aoho asked, his voice barely audible.

“Have the computers open fire on the Ssshreet fleet.” I closed my eye. “Target any escape pods that eject. Leave no trace. Polarize all viewports other than my own. The stress of combat could send some of our species into shock if they view too much.”

“Yes, Scholar.”

Some of our species. But not mine. We had been predators too, once. So very, very long ago. I was resilient enough to make the order. I would be resilient enough to see it through.

I forced myself to watch as the debris field around my station began re-orienting itself. Concealed ports opened along the sides of innocent-looking space junk. The same debris that Krellik had complained about earlier now spat death at his ships’ vulnerable aft sections. Nearly seven hundred stolen, purchased, and jury-rigged lasers quested for a target, and as one, fired.

My hearts felt crushed, and my legs slowly collapsed. I huddled on the deck plates as I watched Krellik’s fleet get blown apart like cheap pieces of tin. At this range, it was murder, even with our ersatz arsenal. Nothing more, and nothing less.

As much as I hated it, as much as I wanted to run and never look back, I knew I would do it again if others came to my post with the same fool’s errand. I had done it before. The lives of every Galactic citizen depended on my doing so. We simply could not allow the Humans to escape. Their ignorance was all that allowed our survival. Maybe someone was going to get past us and into the system eventually, but I would be damned if it was on my watch when humanity finally breached containment.

“Back to square one,” I whispered to myself.