“Captain Hadad to Maggie Al-Hajjah, please respond.”

Maggie looked up from the sensor console she’d disassembled. Their jury-rigged upgrades required constant maintenance to keep them operating, so her and Mairead were checking the new connections for degradation and signal loss. It was tedious but necessary work, though in truth she was glad for the distraction. Between the Tu’udh’hizh’ak screwing with her head and her efforts to win back Diggs’ trust, anything that took her mind off her troubles was welcome.

With a groan, she pushed herself off the deck and wiped the grease from her hands with a rag before punching the intercom button. “This is Maggie. What do you want?”

“Please report to the Bridge,” he answered. “We have a situation that requires your attention.”

Mairead’s head snapped up at that, the two Tinkers sharing a worried look. “Are we under attack?” she asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Remi answered, as both women breathed a sigh of relief, “but it is important.”

“All right, I’m on my way.” Maggie disconnected the circuit before turning to Mairead. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she told her, “I got this. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” she promised, as she began making her way forward.

Arriving on the Bridge a few minutes later, she discovered she was late to the party. Most of the other crew and passengers had already arrived, milling about as she went to the captain. “All right, I’m here,” she announced. “What’s the emergency?”

He pointed to the monitor. “It seems we’ve run into something unexpected.”

Maggie peered at the screen, her brow furrowing as she fought to make out the images being displayed. “Wait...are those Oivu ships?” she asked him.

“They are,” he nodded. “It appears to be one of their merchant caravan fleets.”

The news wasn’t that surprising; the Oivu plied their trade throughout the length of the Perseus Arm and beyond, though their current position as they drew closer to Earth was nearing the fringes of their space. “So what’s the problem then?”

“There’s no problem...not exactly,” he demurred, “but there is a potential opportunity.”

“It’s not worth it,” Sergeant Kai disagreed. “I say we leave them be and keep going.”

“The Oivu have a well-earned reputation of dealing fairly with their clientele,” Genvass argued. “They may drive a hard bargain, but they don’t play favorites, and it’s possible we could make a deal.”

“I can’t imagine we’d have anything they’d want,” Blye pointed out.

“They might surprise you,” Samara chuckled, giving her a salacious wink. “To the Oivu, everything is negotiable.”

“How do we know they won’t just turn us over to the Troika?” Rúna asked, taking her superior’s side.

“The Oivu are the closest thing to true neutrals in the Arm,” Alphad said from his monitor, “and no one crosses them. They may have an understanding with the Troika, but it’s more a recognition of each other’s sovereignty than an alliance.”

“Their ships aren’t even armed,” Slavko pointed out from his position.

“Because they have a simple method of dealing with those that betray them,” the Avatar replied. “The Oivu deal not only in goods, but information. Come after them and they’ll hand over all your secrets to your enemies...for free.”

Everyone took a moment to consider the ramifications of that when Maggie spoke up. “I vote we hail them,” she told the others. “The pirate’s right, this is an opportunity.”

Remi ignored the slur. “You have something in mind?”

“Yeah...I do.” She turned to face the group. “The whole damn galaxy started comin’ after us because of this damn mission. They wrecked Freya, killed God knows how many of our fellow Terrans, tried to turn us into their puppets...but what we don’t know is why. What the hell is so damn important about this planet? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d like to know the answer.”

“As would I,” Blye agreed.

“Answers like that don’t come cheap,” Remi pointed out, “and we’re not well stocked with trade goods. How do you plan on meeting their price?”

“Trust me...we’ve got somethin’ they want,” Maggie said cryptically.

----------------------------------------

As Gyrfalcon docked with the Oivu craft, Maggie stood with the others in front of the airlock. Since she had dealt with the merchants before it only made sense they include her on the team, and after Samara saved them from being made into Tu’udh’hizh’ak sleeper agents, adding her seemed prudent as well. Their third team member seemed an odd choice at first glance, but Remi had insisted. The Tinker thought he was planning to cut a side deal for his crew, though she doubted he’d have much luck. The Oivu were pricey.

“I know I said this already,” Maggie told the others, “but don’t freak out when you see ‘em.”

“I won’t,” Remi snapped, while Samara just laughed.

“...yeah, that’s what they all say,” the older woman muttered, as the hatch slid aside. The trio stepped inside and sealed the chamber, cycling the air from one ship’s atmosphere to the other. After answering their hail, the Oivu had asked their species and air requirements, and had as always done an outstanding job of meeting their needs. Unlike the Tu’udh’hizh’ak, the Oivu were excellent hosts.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She was ready when the outer hatch slid open, and while Samara seemed to take their appearance in stride, Remi was taken aback. He recovered quickly, but it was obvious their presence bothered him. It bothered her too, but she’d grown used to them in her previous encounters, though there was something definitely off-putting about their image.

Maybe it was because they didn’t have a face.

No one was sure what the Oivu were. Some were convinced they were an intelligent form of plant life, while others believed they were a hybrid, combining elements of both plant and animal. Then there were those that believed they were something else entirely, but the only ones who knew for certain were the Oivu themselves, and they weren’t sharing.

A quintet of Oivu were waiting as they stepped onto the alien vessel. They had adopted outward forms that were vaguely humanoid and roughly the same size to mirror their guests, but that was where all similarities ended. Their bodies comprised green ropy tendrils, intertwined like vines, and as they watched the individual braids of fiber seemed to sway and writhe in patterns of their own making. There were no sensory organs they could observe, and yet somehow they saw and heard and felt everything. All five wore voders around their necks and tasteful articles of clothing, and yet somehow that made them seem more alien, not less.

“Welcome, friends,” the lead Oivu spoke up, the mechanical tones of its voder seeming almost flat. “What is it you wish to trade?”

“Information,” Maggie replied.

“Of course,” the Oivu answered, with a bob of its...well, you couldn’t call it its head, as no one was sure what their true forms looked like. Upon sober reflection she’d went with “uppermost growth” and leave it at that. “The exchange rate for information is volatile, and dependent on several factors. Do you accept these limitations?”

“We do,” Remi answered for the group, recovering from his initial shock somewhat more quickly than she’d expected.

“Very well. Please follow us to where we may conduct business.” The Oivu turned in unison and...shambled? Slithered?...down the corridor, arriving in an unadorned compartment with basic seating arrangements. “Please make yourselves comfortable and explain the nature of the information you seek. If it is data we possess, we may proceed to the next phase. If not, you may choose another commodity, or depart this vessel in peace.”

The three humans took their seats, though the Oivu remained standing. Maggie took a moment to gather her thoughts...as the resident Tinker they’d given her wide latitude to conduct negotiations...clearing her throat before she spoke.

“I reckon you know us Terrans are on everybody’s radar,” she explained. “We figure it has somethin’ to do with an unregistered planet...but what we don’t know is why.” It was almost impossible to read their expressions, as they didn’t have any, and their body language was incomprehensible. Maggie couldn’t tell how they’d reacted to her query. “Do you know why they’re comin’ after us?” she asked them.

The quintet turned to face each other, communing, though there was no sound or change in movement that she could see. This went on for several minutes, as she and the others waited until they decided. Finally, they turned and faced them once more.

“We possess the information you seek,” the Oivu informed them. “What do you offer in payment?”

Glancing at her companions, Maggie opted for simplicity. “The Tu’udh’hizh’ak are telepaths,” she told them.

That got a reaction. In an instant they had turned inward and begun communing once more, their limbs gesturing almost frantically. She would have loved to eavesdrop on their conversation, but any concerns they wouldn’t be believed or that it wouldn’t be enough, vanished like ice crystals in a solar wind. It was many minutes later before they turned back to them.

“How have you come to possess this information?” they asked.

“We docked with a Tu’udh’hizh’ak ship, and they tried to turn us with their mental powers,” she explained, “but we resisted.”

Another brief discussion amongst them, before they resumed. “Will you tell us how you did this?” they asked.

“Sure...for a price,” Maggie answered, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

Yet another conference, before they resumed their talks. “We will postpone your proposal of additional information for a later time. We agree that your payment is sufficient for that which you seek. How do you wish to have the data conveyed?”

“Verbally,” Maggie told them. The last thing she wanted was an electronic trail of breadcrumbs for someone to follow. Keeping it in their heads maybe wasn’t the safest choice, but it was better than nothing. The trio leaned in as the Oivu spokesperson spoke.

“The world you search for is ancient, shrouded in the mists of time. Many have sought its location over the long eons, only to meet their doom.”

“...what?” Maggie stared at them in shock. “What do you mean, doom?”

“All those who have quested for the planet you now seek have either found nothing, or they have found death,” the Oivu explained, “for this world once belonged to the Precursors, almost a billion of your years ago.”

“The Precursors?” Remi asked, looking at the other two. “Never heard of them.”

“They were an old and powerful race, their technology far advanced of what even we possess,” they clarified. “One day, eons ago...they disappeared. No one knows what became of them.”

“I believe I’m beginning to understand the interest,” Samara said quietly.

“Indeed, for many have long believed the Precursor homeworld is a treasure trove, filled with secrets...secrets that if exhumed would alter the balance of power in this galaxy forever.”

“Jesus,” Maggie whispered. “What the hell have we stumbled into?”

“It is perhaps the greatest mystery in this region of space,” they told her. “Despite all the failures, many search for this world still.”

“...wait a minute,” Remi interrupted. “If these Precursors disappeared millions of years ago, why are people still dying when they find their homeworld?”

“Because they left behind a powerful guardian to watch over their planet,” the Oivu explained. “It protects the system with weapons of unimaginable power. No one has ever breached its defenses.”

“What if someone could?” Maggie asked, her expression a mask.

“Then they might well reap the benefits of the Precursors’ knowledge,” they informed them, oblivious to the looks the three humans were exchanging.

“No wonder everyone’s ready to kill for it,” Samara remarked. “Where is this planet?”

“We cannot say,” the Oivu replied.

“Now just hold on a second,” Maggie snapped, “you said our payment was acceptable. We deserve to know.”

“You misunderstand...we cannot say, for we no longer possess this knowledge,” the Oivu informed them. “Over the many long eons, as the numbers of those who searched and failed continued to rise, we decided the information was too dangerous for even us to keep. Whatever data we once held regarding the planet’s location has been long since purged, lost and forgotten.”

“Right,” Maggie sighed. “Lord knows things never go the simple way.”

The Oivu conferred with one another, and then asked, “Do you intend to search for the Precursor homeworld?”

“Maybe,” Remi said off hand.

“Then your payment has earned you this warning. Do not pursue this. For a billion years, the Precursor planet has never divulged its secrets...and those who made the attempt have reaped only death. It would be folly to even try.”

Maggie rose to her feet, with Remi and Samara right behind her. “Thanks for the information, and the warnin’,” she told them. “Our business is concluded.”

“We hope the knowledge you gained will serve you well,” the Oivu replied. “We will escort you to your vessel and hope that one day our courses may converge once again.”

“Likewise,” Maggie answered for all of them...already beating feet back to the airlock.