Contacting the Oivu would be no easy feat. The captain of Shining Blade agreed to pass the message on at the Paygan’s request, though he cautioned them not to hold out much hope. The Oivu merchant caravans did not keep to regular routes or timetables, contacting them was a hit-or-miss prospect. They did things their own way, and that was unlikely to change.

No one was more surprised than Rúna herself when they received a response less than twenty-four hours later.

As it turned out, one of their caravans was in a neighboring sector when they sent out the call. Normally it was all but impossible to convince the merchant traders to alter their itinerary, but the mention of the Terran ship Gyrfalcon and some unfinished business promptly got their attention. They sent word back stating they would dispatch a single ship to the Sonoitii homeworld to discuss business, placing the mercenary ships in a difficult position.

They granted the Oivu free passage wherever they roamed. That right was sacrosanct and inviolable, yet the Troika had also given the ships orders to prevent other vessels from entering the system. Fiddlers’ Green was being studiously ignored, keeping its distance from the enemy fleet ever since the stunt that mucked up their ability to intervene. They saw chasing after it as pointless; it was no match for the enemy fleet. As long as it remained clear of the planet, they fulfilled their contract.

That the other mercenary outfits were rules lawyers of the highest order did not surprise the Valkyries. Getting shot at for pay motivated those involved into doing as little as possible to meet their contract’s terms, quickly becoming second nature. It was one reason their digging in and fighting back as hard as they had come as such a shock to the alien soldiers-of-fortune.

So on the one hand there were the ancient traditions granting freedom of movement to all Oivu vessels to be upheld, while on the other the requirement in their contract to keep all other ships clear of the system. Two mutually contradictory positions. How were they to resolve the problem?

In the end, they took the easiest path possible and ignored the issue entirely. If the Troika had issues with the Oivu entering Sonoitii space, let them deal with it. It wasn’t their headache and was definitely above their paygrade. That being said, they drew the line at letting any Terran leave the planet’s surface. They might try to escape, or worse, so they informed the Valkyries in no uncertain terms they would meet any attempts to rendezvous with the Oivu ship with deadly force.

That was a problem, for long-standing tradition dictated the merchant aliens only conducted business aboard their own ships. No one knew why; perhaps it was a security measure, or a cultural taboo. Given their odd physiology, it was possible there was an environmental factor involved. But since their erstwhile enemies refused to budge on the issue and shooting their way past them was out of the picture, it forced Rúna to send her regrets and cancel the meeting.

Two hours later the Oivu sent a reply: that in this case, they would make an exception.

The Paygan had observed this back and forth with something approaching amusement. The entire scheme was utter madness and doomed to failure, that much was certain. His own minor contribution involved equal parts curiosity and boredom, and he expected absolutely nothing to come of it. Eventually the Troika would order his comrades to eradicate them all, and that would be the end of the tale.

But when the Oivu proved willing to contravene thousands of years of tradition for a wolfling race fate had destined for oblivion, suddenly he was sitting up and taking notice.

Just as before, three humans awaited the Oivu shuttle, and while Rúna and Kai hadn’t been party to the first meeting, Maggie and the others had fully briefed them regarding the encounter. They were the obvious choices for slots one and two.

Slot number three proved a bit more problematic. Colonel Holme insisted he should be present, to ensure things ran smoothly. The pair hemmed and hawed on that issue, debating the idea and promising to get back to him as soon as possible. And if that wasn’t a big enough problem, the Paygan made his own case to join the mission when the brass wasn’t looking. At least he was easier to refuse; there was no way in hell they were bringing one of their enemies in on this, even if he had been helpful setting it up. The Ixi commander seemed unsurprised at their refusal. As savvy as he was, he’d likely expected it. Still, it never hurt to try.

To everyone’s surprise, not to mention the colonel’s annoyance, they announced the third member of the mission would be Doc Svoboda. His being chosen for the slot had floored him, but once they explained why they’d picked him for his medical knowledge, he immediately got to work researching and copying the relevant files. To his credit, Holme didn’t pull rank, though he did hint rather strongly about his displeasure. The NCOs gingerly rebuffed him: while he was briefed about the mission to Earth and their superior officer, he hadn’t been there aboard Gyrfalcon.

After all that had happened, they weren’t taking any chances.

“Are they as strange as they say?” Doc asked, nervously peering into the sky as the Oivu shuttle began its silent descent.

“According to Maggie they are,” Rúna told him, “though she also said they were friendly and polite. It should be fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Kai agreed, “because we’re taking a pretty big chance here. If this doesn’t work, we’re out of options.”

“Then let’s make damn sure it works,” the corporal swallowed as the shuttle touched down, settling on its landing jacks as the hatch slid open and a ramp telescoped down to meet them. The trio looked at one another, unsure of the protocol, before Rúna finally squared her shoulders and started walking towards the open doorway, with the others following along in her wake.

Just as Maggie had explained it to them, a quintet of Oivu awaited them inside the ship. All were roughly human in shape, but the green ropy tendrils composing their bodies still caught them by surprise. Even though they’d been warned going in, it hadn’t prepared them for the sheer alienness of their form. All three did their best to disguise their reaction, though with mixed success.

If the Oivu noticed their momentary revulsion, they gave no sign of it. “Welcome, friends,” the leader greeted them, the voice emanating from the voder around its… well, where its neck would be, if it were human. “Your message stated that while you have not met our kind prior to this, you were crew members aboard the Terran ship Gyrfalcon when it first encountered us. Is this correct?”

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“It is,” Kai nodded.

“Your message also stated you had information you wished to trade knowledge related to the previous transaction. Is this true as well?”

“That’s right,” Rúna agreed.

“Splendid. If you will follow me.” The Oivu turned in unison and made their way down the corridor, while the humans fell in behind them. It was a brief journey as they escorted them to a sitting room with comfortable, if somewhat odd-looking chairs. “Please, be seated,” the alien continued, “and recount for us the nature of the information your crew members shared for verification.”

Doc looked over at the other two, while Rúna just shrugged. “They told you that the Tu’udh’hizh’ak are telepaths,” she recounted, “and that they tried to mentally coerce our friends.”

The aliens turned towards one another and communed briefly, before turning back to face them. “That is correct,” their representative confirmed. “What additional information do you offer, and what do you seek in return?”

She glanced over at Kai, who signaled for her to continue. Technically, he should have been the one negotiating as he outranked her, but since it had been her crazy idea in the first place, he’d suggested she take point on this. They were every bit as courteous as Maggie described, but she was still on edge. This should have been handled by someone else, someone trained for this sort of thing, but circumstances and random chance had forced her into the spotlight.

Well, she’d been in tighter spots, even if now the stakes were astronomically higher.

“The last time,” she began, “our friends told you we’d cured them of the Tu’udh’hizh’ak’s mental influence. You said you were interested in the antidote, but you didn’t pursue it. That’s what we’re offering. The cure.”

Again they faced one another and silently conferred, longer this time, until resuming their original positions. “We are indeed interested in this information,” they agreed. “What is it that you seek in return?”

“A service,” she said simply. “We would ask you to transmit a message to as many races as you can reach in the next few days.”

The aliens froze. “A message?” the leader asked. “This is a most unusual request. Are you having difficulties with your communications?”

“You might say that,” Kai mumbled.

“Surely you’re aware of our situation here,” Rúna asked them, pressing on and ignoring the sergeant’s remark, “just as you must know what’s at stake. The reason we’ve asked for this meeting and offered something so valuable in payment, is that the message is a request to the other races to send their representatives here, to this world.”

“For what purpose?” the alien inquired.

She took a deep breath. This was it, cards on the table time. Would the Oivu make the deal, or would they walk away? “We ask them to come and form an alliance,” she said deliberately, “in order to break the Troika’s hold on the galaxy, once and for all.”

The Oivu went ballistic.

This time their conversation included wildly flailing their limbs, strange alien gestures no human could interpret. Were they angry? Frightened? Excited? There was no way to tell. The clock ticked on as the frantic conference continued until finally, they turned back to them.

“This request requires that we confer with the others,” the spokesperson… spokesbeing?... informed them. “Please, wait here, while we hold conclave.” The quintet turned and exited as one, the hatch sliding shut behind them.

“... what the hell just happened?” Doc asked in confusion.

“Beats me,” Kai answered, turning to Rúna. “You ever hear of a ‘conclave’?”

“Maggie said nothing about that, and she probably had more contact with them than most,” she told him, shaking her head. “But if I had to guess, what we asked them must be a lot bigger than their normal requests.”

“Just to pass on a message?” the medic insisted. “It’ll take ‘em two whole minutes.”

“I don’t think it’s the message itself,” Kai countered, “I think it’s what it implies. Maggie said their policy regarding the Troika mostly boiled down to staying out of each other’s way. If the Oivu do this, they’ll be stepping into the ring. How will the Troika respond to that?”

“Who the hell knows?” Doc exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

“Exactly,” Rúna answered, pointing her finger for emphasis. “I don’t think anyone knows the answer to that question, but if the Oivu make the deal, we’re likely to find out in pretty short order.”

The trio suddenly went silent, each of them digesting the ramifications of what they were setting into motion. Minutes ticked by. Hours. Food and drink appeared via automated consoles, which they gladly sampled, but there was still no sign of their hosts. They were rapidly approaching the point where restrooms might be needed, when the hatch finally slid open once more, revealing the Oivu.

All the Oivu.

Instead of the original quintet, dozens now filed into the space, yet somehow it didn’t feel crowded. She couldn’t be sure, but Rúna guessed they’d enlarged the chamber, somehow, without them noticing. One alien split apart from the others and moved towards them, but whether it was the same mediator as before was impossible to say.

“We apologize for the delay,” it offered, “but this is a decision that could not be made in haste. What you ask of us will have consequences that will reach far beyond this world.”

“We’d guessed,” she allowed.

“We do not share with others information about ourselves as a matter of policy,” the Oivu explained, “or perhaps it would be better to say we set the price of such knowledge far above what any species will pay. But in this case, we feel we must reveal a small portion of who and what we are, in order to illustrate exactly what you are proposing.”

Unconsciously, all three humans leaned forward. “By all means, continue,” Rúna encouraged them. If they were willing to spill even a single secret for free, this was even more significant than they’d imagined.

“As you know, we are merchants, trading with all who seek to strike a deal,” the alien began. “We have no favorites, dealing with all who seek us out equally. However, the Troika occupy a unique position in this galaxy, one they forced us to recognize long ago. We summoned a conclave then as well, in order to determine policy regarding them.”

The humans nodded in understanding. “We thought it might be something like that,” she ventured.

“Indeed, for I have revealed little you could not surmise for yourselves,” it agreed. “But because of their nature, the Troika have made an imprint in this space, one far larger than we expected. Where they exist, options grow limited. This is anathema to us.”

Kai stared at them. “I don’t get it.”

“I think I do,” Rúna said uncomfortably. “Think of them as arms dealers, the kind that will gladly sell weapons to both sides. Only the Troika keep getting in their way.”

“Your analogy is crude, but not inaccurate,” the Oivu agreed. “For millennia we have tread lightly in their presence, avoiding provocation, for there was no profit in it. Until there was a counterbalance in place, one powerful enough to force the Troika to… reevaluate their position, risking that much exposure was far too perilous.”

“Until now,” she whispered.

“Yes. Until now.” The mass of aliens regarded them. “You Terrans are a curious species. You are a primitive race, orphans without a home, fractured, unwanted, mere children surrounded by ancients. And yet, inexplicably, we find you at the center of what is coming.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Kai demanded. “What do you mean, ‘What is coming’?”

“The galaxy and its denizens are part of a complex system,” it explained, “and while it appears as chaos at first glance, the longer one studies it, patterns soon emerge. Patterns can be predicted, and one such pattern is that complex systems abhor stasis. Eventually, inevitably, change will always come,” it said cryptically.

The realization of what he was saying hit her like a thunderbolt. “And you think we’re the… catalyst, for what’s coming,” she said hoarsely, “this change you see ahead of us.”

“We do,” the alien agreed. “Which is why we accept your contract. What lies ahead is murky, difficult to discern, but this moment requires that we act.”

“And us?” Rúna asked in a small voice. “What do you see ahead for us Terrans?”

There was a pause as they briefly communed. Finally, they faced them once more.

“Greatness,” the Oivu said at last, “or oblivion. Both futures lie before you, and both hang in the balance.”