Sava Domeria collapsed into her command seat, finally alone in her ship.
As promised, the Zcarbbs had brought her back to the planet and had left the place. A great joy shook the planet, despite the dying and the search for survivors. The improbable had happened, the impossible even: the Zcarbbs had retreated without reinforcements having arrived. The communications once again possible learned that they were acting in the same way on all the planets they attacked in this galaxy.
Having surrounded her face with an opaque Smart-bubble, in order to hide her identity, Sava had gone to the spaceport where she had parked. Despite the ruins of the structure, her ship was intact and she ordered it to teleport to the surface, ignoring the rules: she had urgent business and could not wait for the place to be cleared to leave again.
Events were turning and turning in her head, bringing their share of questions and very few answers. The little Zcarbb princess, the queen, the terrorist of Azar… The tortured agents… Or, the supposed agents…
Ah, she couldn’t believe it: she had managed to negotiate a cessation of hostility with the Zcarbbs… How had she done it? It was said that all negotiations had systematically failed…
The future, however, looked worrying. She had confirmation that the Zcarbbs were indeed assembling a large attack force, that they were also experimenting with temporal weapons, and she had discovered that they had a partnership with the worst terrorist group there was. The Azar clan was initially composed of scientists and possessed advanced knowledge that they could share with the Zcarbbs. What compromises had they been able to find to work together?
And, worst of all, had this attack on the Utela galaxy really been organized by agents of the Administration? Why? What was the reason, the interest? So many beta+ levels and an alpha+, it couldn't have been decided without valid and particularly verified authorization... Finally, if what the dying man had said was true and not manipulated...
She had only one way to know the truth, only one name: the master geneticist Zoghoze. But, the Hogloo mercenaries did not betray the secret of their contracts... Or else, one had to be very subtle to walk on the edge of it. She had to find this Hogloo, even if it meant going to their territory. Over there, all their mercenaries must certainly be filing their reports to help their governments spy on the Administration. She would find traces of this operation there.
To be able to go there without getting killed, she would first have to recruit a Hogloo mercenary... There were a few famous space stations for having “contractor” positions often used by the administrative forces: over there she would find a good place to recruit one.
Less than a minute later, she was there, on the other side of the civilized universe. The status of administrative agent allowing one to avoid requesting an intergalactic travel authorization to be able to pass through the defense shields of the galaxies, and the “Walker” engine allowing unlimited teleportation across the universe, the notion of distance no longer meant anything... There were just a handful of areas with special laws and countermeasures that could prevent, delay or react hostilely to her passage.
The Ryano-bis space station was a gigantic sphere the size of a small moon, orbiting an agrarian planet: Ryano. Of course, such a structure was not only intended for mercenaries, but its vast docks allowing modest-sized battleships to stop there had contributed to the development of this activity.
Sava let her ship park in a secure zone and had herself teleported to the public zone. She appeared in a large secure tube that, once the teleportation was complete, opened onto a corridor as wide as a cargo dock.
People of the most varied shapes moved in all directions and even in the air. People who were too small or too tall had adapted and reserved corridors, in order to avoid accidents. Thus, a good part of the gigantic corridor was delimited by transparent barriers that prevented the smallest from accidentally ending up where the giants set foot. Similarly, the entire perimeter of the corridor was teeming with multiple transparent pipes that were the personal corridors of the smallest beings.
Among these many forms of life, there were also Hogloos, the only strangers to the Administration to roam the place. Some had adopted massive forms and majestically traveled the corridor of the giants, others walked in the middle of the crowd... which remained at a good distance from their passage. It was common for Hogloos to kill someone for an insult, without facing any legal action if the person in question had no well-placed friends. Despite the weakening of their nations since the war against the Titans, which had seen their people torn between the two camps, these reptilian creatures retained some of the privileges they had extorted by threats from the Administration…
The young woman felt a shiver run through her as her thoughts filled with doubts: was she right to try to deal with Hogloos? There was no guarantee that they could help her find one of their own, or that the latter would agree to provide her with the information she sought. She knew their psychology well enough to avoid fatal missteps and know how to negotiate, but that did not mean that success was guaranteed.
However, this time she was advancing into familiar territory: even if they were other violent enemies, it was not like facing the aliens Zcarbbs on their own spaceship.
The corridor often opened onto vast shopping centers or transport areas, offering the most varied services for the former and access to the rest for the latter. There was an immense network of corridors reserved for automatic vehicles, in order to access industrial areas, mainly intended for the production of armaments.
The agent chose to stop at a bar. It was quite cliché, worthy of one of those mass-produced adventure films based on the same plot, but it was the kind of ideal place to look for a mercenary. The Hogloos were not particularly keen on drinking but had perfectly understood that following stereotypes allowed them to find customers more easily: if she saw one enter the premises, he would certainly be looking for a job.
The bar she entered was a clean and pleasant place. Fake wood covered the walls and a real person served at the counter. Even if it forced customers to move rather than receive their orders by teleportation, it was becoming more and more fashionable to use real employees who received the orders orally and brought them to the counter. Obviously not having a waiter, even a robotic one, this establishment must therefore be of moderate wealth, or even the bartender was himself the owner of the place.
She ordered an astic’hom juice, a traditional Hom drink made from a particular species of worms that her people loved to eat. The man, a massive humanoid with horns and beige skin, looked at her briefly with a look of disgust, but he was used to it and went to prepare the drink in the back room. The scout nanobots, deployed by Domeria, sent her back the image of the man operating… a synthesizer.
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Clearly, this establishment did not have the requested product. The Ham bit her lip: she had no intention of consuming the synthetic version of this drink and she felt robbed for receiving something that she could have printed for free on her ship. But hey, she was here to pass the time while waiting for a Hogloo to arrive…
Leaving a bar of crystallized credit on the counter, since the establishment did not accept transfers, she went to sit down and pretended to drink while listening to the conversations around her. She quickly noticed that all the topics revolved around the events of the Utela galaxy. Despite billions of other galaxies with their problems, after having crossed the entire universe, peoples were talking about this? There had certainly been a program about it in the Universal News…
At a table from her, perfectly audible, two Yapa were discussing:
“Ah, at least this damn tax for the army was not voted. The president is completely crazy to want to impose this kind of tax on the entire universe: we are doing very well without it and it is not as if the Titans could come back to attack us. Frankly, with almost a ‘stand’ year before the presidential election, it is not a very smart choice on his part…”
“Well, I don't know... I don't want to pay even more taxes, but he's not entirely wrong: it seems that the Zcarbbs have relaunched it on the borders of the Empire...”
“Yeah, but those trigger-happy people must have teased them before, that's what I'm saying. Without that, there's no way the Zcarbbs would dare attack the Administration in peacetime: their last major expansion, they took advantage of our divisions, but against the united Administration, they don't stand a chance.”
“Hey,” said a large, stringy creature who intruded into the conversation, “are you talking about the events of Utela? It's all over the network at the moment: it's crazy! The Zcarbbs who massively attacked the galaxy, but they were pushed back while fighting the Republic of Humus… or something like that…”
“The Republic of Urus, corrected a Hom from a nearby table, and they weren’t pushed back: they withdrew after speaking to an administrative agent…”
One of the Yapas, after a quick consultation of the Network, added to the information:
“Ah yes, the heroine of Urus in Utela: Sava Domeria. All the forums are talking about her at the moment. There’s the video of her holding up one of those Zcarbb pioutrerie in front of their invasion fleet and she demands that they stop the attack. I don’t know what she talked to them about, but she got on board and in less than an hour, they all retreated, even to the other attack points. It’s unheard of!”
Sava blushed: “the heroine of Urus in Utela”, “All the forums are talking about it”? She wouldn't have expected such glory for her actions... It was even embarrassing in fact... Pleasant, but embarrassing. She deployed her smart-bubble and set it to remain transparent but slightly modify her features. There was little chance that these people from other species would recognize her, but the Hom could perhaps suspect her identity from her features and check with facial recognition software. Might as well not become the center of attention when conducting an investigation.
“Still, there's damage. Apparently, there are billions of dead and nearly a thousand planets where everything is in ruins... not to mention those that the Zcarbbs kept. There are money pots on the Network to help these poor people…”
“Yeah… grumbled the Hom, they may be imperials, but they are people all the same… it’s still better to avoid giving just anywhere: if they are not official money pots of the Administration, there is a risk that they are crooks. As for the imperial money pots, I am pretty sure that they don’t give a penny to the victims and that they pay everything directly into the military industry.”
“Yes, approved the stringy creature, I read here that in the Institution of Society, the Sub-Institution of Daily Life launched the official money pot…”
“Huh, one of the Yapa wondered, shouldn't it be the Health Sub-Institution?”
“Well, no,” said the other, “there's not just the problem of the wounded. I think it should rather be the responsibility of the Crisis Department in the Economy Sub-Institution...”
“Oh, no,” protested the Hom, “that's in the Currency Institution: they only worry about the economic crisis...”
“Sorry, but the question of aid is precisely an economic question, wouldn't it be fairer to... “
And the debate continued on its way, moving further and further away from the subject. It was quite strange to have witnessed these violent events and now to find herself on the other side of the universe, seeing people discussing it calmly, as if it were a passing curiosity...
“Can I sit here? If it's not me you were expecting, say so right away, that will save me from wasting my time.”
Surprised, Sava turned her head towards her interlocutor. It was a rather thin lizard creature, wearing worn combat armor and carrying a heavy, state-of-the-art assault rifle slung over its shoulder. One of its eyes was covered by a computer-monocle whose camera shimmered with a red glow.
The agent frowned suspiciously. Was it really a Hogloo, or was it a conman trying to pass itself off as one? Most Hogloos chose a more massive, more impressive appearance, and almost all had parchment-like wings. The lizard noticed her gaze and seemed rather annoyed for a Tik, before sighing with the look of one who repeats the same things at each encounter:
“I suppose I can understand your skepticism. Be aware that not all Hogloos are in favor of body changes. I myself only have minor genetic modifications, but it's plenty enough for my job.”
“And, what makes you think I'm looking to recruit a mercenary, and a Hogloo at that?”
“An alpha-level administrative agent sitting in a bar on this station? Unless you're on vacation, I don't see any other possibilities.”
That's right, she was on vacation... And what a vacation! However, this guy didn't know that... but he seemed to already know way too much:
“What makes you think I'm an administrative agent, and of that level?”
“I know that you Homs like to play with words, but I'd like us to get straight to the point. If your question was asked in good faith, just know that my hacking software is quite powerful and that you haven't put yourself in ‘infiltration’ mode.”
“I didn't detect any attacks...”
“That's because I hacked your location on the Network. As long as your superiors know where to find you, you can be sure that mercenaries like me can too.”
It made sense... But maybe one day security would finally be effective enough so that enemies could no longer access this type of data so easily? In any case, this confirmed the usefulness of the ‘infiltration’ mode in her administrative reporting software.
The Hogloo took out a pocket computer, of an unknown model, and had it generated the holo-identifications necessary to prove its identity, namely his mercenary license and his passport countersigned by the Sub-Institution of External Affairs of the Institution of Diplomacy. Sava's alpha-rank software was also able to read the notes added by the Sub-Institution of Secret Services, elements that the Hogloo surely didn’t know. He was described as a reliable mercenary and a relatively low-risk enemy, with no terrorist affiliation.
DNA recognition software confirmed the identity. Although the Hogloos could change this data, there was an honor agreement between them and the Administration that forbade them from using another Hogloo’s identity. And honor was very important in their society.
Reassured, Sava explained her request to the Hogloo. He listened until the end then shook his head:
“So, you would like me to help you find a master geneticist acting as a mercenary, in order to learn more about their contract? I’m sorry. There are few enough master geneticists in this activity that I could easily find this one, but we are not authorized to disclose the contents of contracts.”
“Is there any way to… find a middle way? I would mainly like to know if this guy was in the Utela galaxy on the dates indicated and also if this is a contract with the Administration.”
“I see... I could probably find out if this one was there... And, if it's an official contract, or even an unofficial one, with the Administration, I should be able to confirm it, as long as I don't specify who, in your group, was in charge of leading this mission... it could work like that... If you have the enough currency, of course...”