By Other Means (7 page)

Unfortunately, while it sounded bad to say or think, the Aliens really did all look alike. Humans were trained from birth to recognize very subtle clues in the features of those they encountered frequently, but that tended to make many people feature blind when they moved farther away from their personal normal. Sorilla had trained for years to beat that tendency, it was necessary in her line of work that she not look at a foreign face and think that they all looked the same to her, but the aliens were just too… alien, she was finding.

Another thing to work on,
She noted, suppressing a scowl before turning her implants loose on the Lucian.

She wasn’t expecting much, frankly, they only had images of half a handful of the enemy they’d identified as Charlie, but she ran the image recognition anyway. That meant she was all the more shocked when it found a match, and damn near floored when the match was superimposed over her HUD.

No
way
he’s Diplo-protection,
She breathed, eyes wide and glowing.

The Lucian was the one she’d faced after her skydive from the Hayden tether car.

*****

Kriss looked over the assembled Terrans with a cautious eye. He wasn’t expecting trouble, one normally didn’t try to start anything during a welcoming ceremony. If anyone was planning something for later, however, they might slip up here. Unfortunately he wasn’t trained in recognizing the body language of the species, so it would be a difficult task at best.

The closest ranks were garbed in blue, carrying weapons but near useless ones. He presumed they were for ceremony only, given that the metal blades likely wouldn’t be able to cut synthetic fabrics let alone armor or Lucian flesh. If he weren’t carrying an example of Terran combat blades on him, he might make the mistake of underestimating them right then and there.

Those in white were the shiphandlers, and good enough at the jobs to earn a modicum of respect from the Pari. They were of little concern to him, however, given that few shiphandlers had even a modicum of competency with weapons small enough to be carried without a heavy transport.

No, it was those in black that drew his attention.

They were all armed, which made them the guardians.

Kriss didn’t like the job he was doing, but he had a grudging respect for those who chose it as their occupation. It took a certain mental twist to elect of your own free will to be the person who jumps in front of a pulse blast meant for someone else. Particularly given that it was rarely someone you
liked
who got the honor.

His eyes flicked over them slowly, noting the location of each sidearm despite the clothing intended to hide it.

They looked disciplined, serious, but nothing he couldn’t handle if were told to assassinate the ambassador. That was an order that would not be forthcoming, but it felt good to know he could be reasonably confident of success in such a case.

Kriss stopped, eyes freezing on the last of their number.

Her weapon, and she was a female he was reasonably certain, was out in the open along with a blade like the one he wore. Her uniform was different than her fellows, but it matched that of a handful of others scattered around the deck. He didn’t know it, whatever it was hadn’t been part of the intelligence dump they’d recovered from the Terran ship.

Her eyes were locked on him, however, and he felt a chill as he recognized that she was sizing
him
up exactly the way he was doing to her.

This one is trouble.

That was for later, however, for now they had to endure the coming ceremony and the rambling of those who talked for a living.

Kriss almost wished for a nice assassination attempt.

Almost.

*****

Sorilla did her best to tune out the droning of the diplomats, she’d skim everything later if it turned out to be useful. Most of it was just noise as far as she was concerned, so she hacked the ship’s cameras and used them to watch the Lucian instead.

If he was here, she’d wager a year’s pay that he wasn’t here for any sort of diplomatic protection. You didn’t send special forces as a protection detail, that wasn’t what they were good at.

So, is he doing the same thing I am, or do they have something else in mind?

That had just become a new mission priority for her, figuring out what the Alliance’s play was. If they were looking to sow a few conflicts of their own, well that was one thing. She thought it unlikely, however, since the human race was a little too united at the moment. For them to even come close they’d have to get back to Earth, maybe stir up trouble with China or India, possibly get some home grown terrorist cells in place.

All that was impossible at the moment, however, simply due to lack of contact. So, barring some form of mind control, she was reasonably certain that they wouldn’t be turning any of the crew of the Mexico against humanity.

That leaves an attack from their side,
Sorilla supposed.
Either the Lucian is authorized to derail these negotiations directly, or he’s here to ensure that someone else
doesn’t
.

While the Ambassador was continuing to drone on, Sorilla compiled a quick report and dropped it into the Admiral’s eyes only folder.

She took an admittedly delicious sense of self satisfaction in watching him twitch from across the room when the alert pinged on his implants.

At least I’m not the only one dealing with surprises today.

*****

“Welcome on board the USV Mexico, Ambassador…”

Ruger twitched as his retinal implant listed a priority message sitting in his personal folder, a location only a handful of people had access to. He tuned out the Ambassador’s voice and brought up the file quickly. It was a report, thankfully with a very quick synopsis in the header, from the Major. He was happy she knew how to feed important intel, at least, if not necessarily with her timing.

Her intel was interesting, however. He flicked his eyes over to the Lucian who was standing stiffly behind the delegates, noting the SOCOM blade on his belt.

Brass ones on this bastard, carrying that in here.

It took some serious brass to carry a war trophy right into the middle of the people you took it off of, peace treaty or no.

The fact that he was one of those who’d been on the ground on Hayden made him an person of interest to be sure. Ruger wondered if they’d be able to get him alone sometime, but he doubted it. He’d give a good deal for a few days with the alien, however. Even if he couldn’t get the Lucian to answer any questions, it’d still be an informative session.

It was a pipe dream, however, since the alien would be covered by diplomatic protection and war was the last thing Earth either wanted or needed with these aliens.

Ruger flagged the man anyway, listing him as a priority POI, and listed him for priority surveillance. He didn’t know what an alien special forces operator was doing with their diplomacy team, but he was pretty certain it wouldn’t bode well for him, his ship, or his crew.

Or the treaty either, I suppose.

That was the big issue, of course. In a very real way, the welfare of the ship, the crew, or himself were very distant secondary priorities compared to the treaty.

Ruger didn’t know if a lasting treaty was possible, but that wasn’t his concern either. He was here, in Alliance space, to buy time. Every year, month, week, or
day
he could purchase for the Human race was worth more than all the gold in the asteroid belts of every human controlled star. SOLCOM wasn’t ready for a prolonged war, they hadn’t been ready for the short war they’d already fought in all honesty. If it came down to a war of attrition, all the guts and skill of the human race would amount to nothing compared to the massive resources of the Alliance.

He was aware of the fallback plan if that came to pass, and he didn’t like it one little bit.

If he failed here and now, SOLCOM intended to surrender to the Alliance upon the resumption of hostilities. No one liked the plan, but it was better to invite them in close, where the Ross hopefully wouldn’t use their planet busters, and only then take them apart.

A guerrilla war, however, would be the undertaking of generations in most estimations. His grandchildren would likely be fighting that way if he failed, so Ruger had no intention of failing. He’d buy the time SOLCOM needed, even if he had to buy it in blood.

*****

“You’ve attracted some attention, Sentinal.”

Kriss didn’t look back, recognizing the voice and tonal qualities quite clearly. The Alliance had many species, but few irritated him so much as the Sin Fae. Pale skinned, the species had developed on a world that most people would have given up for worthless at first glance. And second, to be honest. The Sin Fae didn’t have much choice, however, since they’d been born there.

The planet was a perpetual twilight by most species standards, giving the Sin Fae the opportunity and necessity to develop eyesight beyond their contemporaries in the Alliance, along with a habit of skulking in the shadows that made them particularly adept at Intelligence gathering.

Most of the species were known as traders and commerce masters, but those few who entered Alliance service almost all trended to the Intelligence service.

Lucians had little use for them, backstabbing liars they tended to be, but Kriss would admit that they missed little when they put their minds, and eyes, to a situation.

He cocked his head just slightly, indicating that he was listening.

“You should have left that toy of yours in your barracks, I believe,” The Sin Fae told him softly, “these Terrans have noticed it.”

“Good,” Kriss growled, low and just barely audibly, “That was the point.”

“So you want them watching you, judging you, looking for a chance to discredit or
kill
you?” The Sin Fae asked mockingly.

“better they watch me than you, shadow thief.”

There was a silence, then the Sin Fae responded with a grudging respect, “Maybe you’re not as stupid as you appear. Unlikely, though that may be.”

Kriss gritted his teeth, shifting back ramrod straight to make it clear that the conversation was
over
.

The Sin Fae didn’t seem to notice, which was blatant crap if ever there was such, merely chuckling softly behind him.

“The human female in black knows you.”

That caught his attention, making Kriss shift again, “Unlikely.”

“Oh, she does. She’s avoiding looking at you, her eyes slide up or down when she looks this way. She’s trying not to catch your attention.”

Kriss shifted, staring straight at the female he’d noticed earlier. He knew a few humans, in the loosest sense of the word, almost all of them from the ship they’d held in their control for a time. She had to have been from that, since the only other human he’d ever encountered face to face was…

His eyes narrowed,
Impossible. Why would they send a Sentinel on guard duty?

“Oh ho!” The Sin Fae practically giggled at his back, “you know
her
too.”

Kriss ignored the cackling buffoon, knowing it was just an attempt to get him riled so it could get more reads off him. If she were who he thought, however, then the humans were expecting some sort of trouble as well.

Or they’re planning on
starting
trouble of their own.

There were only so many reasons to send a Sentinel on a duty such as this, and all of them began and ended with trouble of the highest order.

The Terran ship floated outside the station in full view of the public areas, it was clear that station control had put them in that parking orbit in order to promote the ‘peaceful’ power of the Alliance. So there were gawkers from thirty species, and a few whose interest were just a little more
pointed
. Two sets of eyes in particularly had a very specific interest indeed.

“There is little we can do yet, they’re keeping the ship well secured and no one has disembarked yet.” The first complained lightly.

“That’s to be expected. At the very least they’ll have to come on station sometime, for negotiations if nothing else. Make sure those go well.” The second ordered calmly.

“Well? But I thought…?”

“If negotiations are going well the Terrans will be more relaxed, they may allow their crew to come on station for leave. That will magnify our opportunities,” The second smiled, “and they may even choose to allow diplomatic tours of their ship. We could easily buy our way onto one of those, I have little doubt.”

“Very well, it will be as you say.”

“Yes. It will.”

There was a silence, until finally the second voice chuckled.

“Don’t look so disappointed, even if neither of those things happen, letting them think things are going smoothly will make it all the more powerful when we drop the singularity on them”

“Yes, of course. I apologize, Master.”

“In the meantime, start the preparations for the secondary plan.”

That caused the first figure to pause, looking mildly stricken, “Master?”

“I know, it’s distasteful, but if they maintain security on the ship we won’t have a choice. A little outrage in the home systems will do our cause well anyway.”

“Yes, Master.”

The second figure watched his now sombre companion move off to follow his orders, looking like he’d been kicked a few too many times. Not that he blamed him, it was always a little distasteful to assassinate one of your own ambassadors, after all.

*****

“They’re playing us, Ambassador.” Ruger said quietly, his voice firm.

“You know that,” Miram Desol countered, shaking her head. “You can’t know that.”

“You don’t tie down an operator to a protective detail unless you’re playing a dangerous game.” Ruger countered, “That’s a fact.”

Desol arched an eyebrow, her gaze focusing on where Major Aida was silently standing. “Oh do tell, Admiral.”

Ruger didn’t take the bait, “That man is a strike leader, he was part of the Hayden battle and he also led the assault that took the America. He’s not a bodyguard, he’s not a cultural specialist like the Major, he’s a soldier. Pure and simple.”