There was a long pause as the Terrans digested the Paygan’s warning. Finally, Genvass spoke up.
“Perhaps you could expand on that?” he offered. “What danger are you talking about?”
Reaching into the folds of his robes, the Ixian removed a small vial, filled with a dark liquid. “This,” he said, before presenting it to Rúna.
The Valkyrie took the vial and inspected it. “Looks like blood,” she said after a moment.
“It is,” the Paygan confirmed. “Terran blood, in fact.”
The ambassador and his bodyguard shared a look. “Where did you get that?” Genvass asked him.
“That vial has passed through many hands before landing in mine,” the Ixian replied. “We have attempted to trace its source, with little success.”
Genvass’ brow furrowed in confusion. “I admit there’s cause for concern here, and I’d like to know where that blood came from, but I don’t see how it puts the Perseus Arm at risk.” He spread his hands. “Other than genetic research, which I assume the Troika already has plenty of data on from the Proteans, the only potential use for it I can think of is…”
He blanched as his brain skidded to a halt. “Oh, no,” he whispered. “Precursor tech.”
The Paygan nodded gravely. “Your ancestors left their baubles and trinkets scattered across the galaxy,” he reminded them. “For millennia, the Troika gathered up every artifact they could locate, though they are far from alone in this. Other races have also searched the cosmos for their relics, and no one knows how many they have hidden away while they work diligently to unlock their secrets.” He picked up the decanter and poured himself another drink before taking a seat opposite him. “Word has spread the key to the Ancient’s treasures is found within the blood of Terrans, and not long after those vials began to appear. The Emperor himself is deeply concerned… and so am I.”
“If you’re right,” Rúna said carefully, “if there are Precursor artifacts out there being analyzed, and if they know our blood is the key, then we’re looking at an arms race with weapons we can scarcely imagine.”
“Indeed,” he agreed solemnly. “I too was at the final battle, in sight of the Demon Planet you now call home. I watched as the most powerful ships ever created were obliterated, each with a single blast. I witnessed the Yīqún horde being whisked away, transported to… somewhere.” The Ixian now looked visibly shaken. “That is power far beyond any other, and there are those within the Perseus Arm who want that power for themselves. If only to protect against those who might wield those same weapons against them.” He leaned forward, his eyes burning into Genvass. “In fact… many of those races are here, attending this very conference.”
“Holy hell,” Genvass said hoarsely, “this is so much worse than I’d imagined.”
“It’s a goddamn minefield, all right,” Rúna confirmed.
“What I want to know is where they’re getting the blood from?” the ambassador insisted. “Why would any Terran take that kind of risk? Money? Power? Those weapons could just as easily end up being pointed at us.”
“Now that’s a question we might be able to answer,” the Valkyrie informed him. “Doc… front and center.”
One of the security detail moved to join her, as she held up the vial. “Run a DNA trace on this,” she ordered. “Maybe we can find out who’s selling their blood on the black market.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” the medic agreed, taking the vial and tucking it away.
“It’s a start,” Genvass nodded. “If we can trace the pipeline, we may be able to shut it off.”
“Assuming, of course, the source is on New Terra,” the Paygan cautioned them. “There are… other possibilities.”
“Oh, I don’t like the sound of that at all,” Rúna cursed. “What are you thinking?”
The Ixian took another sip from his glass. “Prior to your… resettlement, your people were scattered across all of known space, many of them in vessels of poor condition. It would not have been difficult for one of those ships to have been captured, its crew taken prisoner, giving them a source of Terran blood they controlled.”
“Holy Mother Terra,” Genvass whispered. “Kept alive just to be drained of their blood.”
“It’s possible,” the Valkyrie reluctantly admitted. “A lot of ships were unaccounted for after that last battle. We assumed the Troika or Yīqún destroyed them, but if they didn’t…”
“If they didn’t,” the ambassador continued, picking up the thread, “then I can hardly imagine anything more likely to provoke a response from my people.” He looked to the Paygan. “That is an extremely dangerous game for them to play.”
“Perhaps not,” the Ixian mused.
“I beg your pardon?” Genvass said tersely. “Perhaps you don’t know my people as well as you think you do.”
He felt a hand touch his elbow. “Trust me, he knows us pretty damn well,” Rúna alluded. “You don’t go through what we did without getting a decent read on the folks fighting beside you.”
“I mean no disrespect,” the Paygan assuaged him. “Your new homeworld is impregnable, I grant you, but once you venture beyond the system’s boundary?” He shook his head. “Ambassador, your ships are old and obsolete, compared to many in the Perseus Arm. As yet, you cannot project the same power that protects your planet past those limits.”
Genvass turned to his security chief, mindful of what they’d learned regarding Peacemaker… and at that moment realized he’d just made a huge mistake. Rúna’s eyes went wide, as they both slowly faced the Paygan.
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The Ixian warily settled back in his chair. “So. The rumors are true. You have ships built with Ancient technology.” He hissed like a cat facing a dangerous predator. “This is indeed disturbing news.”
“... Did I mention how smart he is?” the Valkyrie grimaced. “He always read me like a goddamn book.”
“It’s… complicated, Paygan,” the ambassador said carefully, “and I’m not prepared to discuss it further. Not at this time, at least,” he amended.
The Ixian was reticent for some time, long enough for the silence to become awkward. When he finally spoke, he chose each word he uttered with great deliberation.
“Ambassador, you and your people sit upon a star fated to go nova,” he said gravely. “I understand why you have kept this information hidden, and you are wise to do so, but know this.” He rose from his chair and stepped away from the table, looking as if he desperately wanted to pace. “As long as the other races believe you have no Precursor ships, you may come to some sort of agreement.” He gripped the back of the chair he’d just vacated, eyeing them both with a flinty glare. “But the moment they learn of your new fleet, they will immediately render that same agreement void. By doing this, you will have triggered their deepest fears, and nothing you say will convince them your intentions are anything but hostile.”
There was another uncomfortable silence as they digested the Paygan’s warning. Finally, he turned to his security chief once more. “Do you trust him?” he asked quietly.
Rúna understood what he was asking. She turned and regarded the blue-skinned alien, who returned her gaze measure for measure.
“I do,” she said at last. “He’s the closest thing we have to a friendly face around here, and we could use his insight.” The Ixian graced her with a formal bow, acknowledging the honor she’d just bestowed upon him.
“That being said,” she continued, “never forget he has his own agenda, because I can guarantee you, he won’t.”
The Paygan chuckled. “I see that I have taught you well,” he said with a grin. “The good captain is quite correct; while our interests may run in parallel, they are not the same. You seek to protect your people, just as I seek to protect mine… and pragmatism forces me to recognize there may come a day where you and I must part ways.”
“I understand,” Genvass nodded. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I grasp the point you’re making.” He took a deep breath. “Paygan, there is indeed a ship built by the Precursors that now is helmed by a Terran crew, and yes, it is a warship. Its technology and weapons, I am given to understand, are far in advance of anything you have ever seen.”
The Ixian’s eyes narrowed. “I sense there is more to this situation than circumstances might suggest.”
The ambassador sighed. “Because there is,” he reluctantly admitted. “The ship… is not under our control.”
The Paygan hissed once more. “Then who does control this vessel?” he demanded.
“A rogue element, answering to no one,” Genvass said sourly. “They discovered the vessel and then disappeared. We do not know their whereabouts, or their intentions.”
“Meaning they may choose to strike anywhere, at any time,” he said grimly.
“I’m afraid so,” he agreed.
The blue-skinned alien stared into his mug. “I must congratulate you, Ambassador,” he said with a sense of calm he could not possibly feel. “You have achieved something I thought impossible.” Their eyes met over the glass. “You make me long for the days when the Troika held dominion over the galaxy. At least that threat was a familiar one.”
“No shit,” Rúna agreed.
“Well, now you know,” Genvass responded, ignoring the dig. “What do you suggest we do?”
“If you can, you must do everything in your power to convince that crew to return to your home system,” the Paygan said, leaning forward. “Make them see reason and stand down. If you can do that, we may still contain this, and keep the fire from spreading.”
“We’ll try,” he vowed, “but if we fail, what then?”
“If there is another solution to this dilemma, it currently escapes me,” the Paygan shrugged, before rising to his feet. “I must inform my emperor what I have learned this night, Ambassador. Is there anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable before I depart?”
“If you could have a secure data connection set up between this suite and our ship, I would most appreciate it,” he said after a moment’s thought.
“I will see to it immediately,” the Ixian vowed. “Good evening, Ambassador,” he said with a bow, before turning and heading for the exit. As he reached the doors, he paused, glancing back at the Terrans.
“Do you recall when you helped to carry me back on Sonoitii Prime, Captain?” he asked stiffly.
Rúna slowly nodded. “I do,” she said.
The Ixian locked eyes with her. “Good,” he answered.
And with that, he exited the apartment.
Genvass looked over at his security chief. “What was that all about?” he asked her.
Rising to her feet as well, Rúna went to the decanter the Paygan had been drinking from, and poured a glass of her own. “It was a warning,” she informed him. “He was telling me we might have to fight our way out of here if things go south.”
“I thought you said we could trust him,” he snapped.
“And I stand by it,” she countered. “I don’t think he was warning us about his fellow Ixians. Don’t forget, there are plenty of other players in the game, and most of them have representatives attending this conference.” She paused, and then added, “Not to mention ships in orbit.”
“But it’s possible,” Genvass pressed her. “You both made it quite clear that he had his own agenda.”
“Yes, it’s possible,” she admitted. “But if they turned on us, they wouldn’t just stab us in the back. They’re far more honorable than we are, in that regard. No, I’m certain they’d escort us out of the palace and ensure we made it safely to our ship, and that our ship could depart the system. They take the whole host thing seriously.” Rúna paused. “Of course, once we left orbit, we’d be fair game.”
“This just keeps getting better and better,” he sighed. “Okay, once we get the data connection set up, brief Ess Peon. I want her input on all of this.”
“Understood,” she agreed. “Anything else?”
He thought for a moment. “Can we put a rush on that DNA test? At the moment, it’s the only piece of hard evidence we’ve got.”
Rúna looked over her shoulder. “Doc? How long before we get results?”
“My medical gear is back on the shuttle,” the medic responded. “Figure an hour to retrieve the scanner and get it set up, another two to run the test. I can have something for you by late tonight.”
“Take Yendrick with you,” she ordered. “Make sure you bring back the deployment gear.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” they nodded.
She turned her attention to the sergeant. “Becca… as of right now, we are on full tactical alert. We fort up here and establish the best evac route back to the shuttle if we have to bug out. Plus alternates if the primary is compromised.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” she agreed. “I’ll brief Captain Taneka in case we have to come in hot. Might be a good idea if they kept the engines warm while we’re at it.”
“I’ll handle Taneka,” Rúna informed her, “more my job description, anyway.”
“Ma’am?” Arthur interrupted. “Does this mean full armor and weapons for the conference?”
She looked back at Genvass. “Your call, Ambassador.”
He shook his head. “We can’t go in like we’re ready to start a war,” he demurred. “I haven’t given up on a diplomatic solution.”
Rúna nodded as she received her orders. “You heard the man,” she told the others. “Sidearms only on the detail… but whoever’s minding the store here is on standby alert as our Reaction Force. If you get the call, you come in loaded for bear.”
“And here I thought this was going to be a quiet gig,” Becca sighed.
“Remind me again how many of those we’ve had?” their captain snorted.
“A girl can hope,” the sergeant shrugged.
“Dream on,” Rúna told her. “We’re still Terrans, despite the recent upgrade in status. Never forget that, 'cause they damn sure won’t.”
“I pray in time we can change that,” Genvass said fervently. “But given what the Paygan has told us… we’d better prepare for the worst.”