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The Technician's Fight, Draft 1, CH51
🕑 Added 2025-10-16 13:00:04 +0000 UTCThe projection over his desk showed an enhanced view of the Bane, recorded from a ship, by the motion.
Gralgiran had been standing when Admiral Douhane sel Synta Kreftia had appeared for the meeting she’d requested. She’d asked that he sit, as she wanted this to be informal instead of official.
“I am not here as a representative of the Leadership, Alpha,” she’d said. “But as someone who swore to keep Kelser safe, addressing an equal with that same oath.”
He had no way to know how true that was, but their previous discussion led him to think she was honest. Toom has also not uncovered anything nefarious about the admiral in his sniffing around the backrooms.
So he had, and she’d sent the recording for him to watch.
“Unidentified ship,” a female said in Earther. “This is San Francisco Mercantile Station. You have entered Human Space. Identify yourself.”
The flash of light from the Bane was so intense it disrupted the image.
“Unidentified ship,” the same female said, now sounding afraid. “This is the San Francisco Mercantile Station, I repeat. We are a Mercantile station. We are civilians and unarmed. Please do not fire.”
Another flash of light, and when the image returned, it shook.
“We surrender!” she yelled. “Please have mercy. We surrender!”
The ship making the recording moved. There was another flash of light from the Bane.
The image shifted. This ship was away from the station, its recording moving from the Bane as it fired far more guns than his ship had, to the station. Showing ships scattering and being destroyed in the attack. Plasma impacted the station multiple times before it exploded.
When that dimmed, the image was the black of non-recording. Then an Earther male stood, centered in the projection. He was older, by the gray in his hair and the wrinkles on his brown skin. He dressed in what Gralgiran had learned to recognize as an attire of power from all the Earther movies he’d watched. Clean lines in the cloth, black, with a sheen that meant quality. At the bottom, the text read, ‘Earth President Meseret Adamu Habibi’
“What you watched,” he said in accented Earther, “was the unprovoked attack and destruction of a station we’d established at the edge of our space to help in the trade with the people of the Federation.” He was silent, expression somber. “We don’t know why, but we know who.”
On his left, the image of the Bane, docked at Einstein station, appeared.
“Nearly three years ago, this ship docked at Einstein Station under false pretenses for the sole purpose of kidnapping one of our experts in anti-matter research and advancement. Any attempt to negotiate his return have been snubbed. And this is what they do next. This is what our supposed allies, the Kelsirians, do! For decades, they claimed to want to help us join the Federation. They sent ambassadors, claiming they would assist in the process, when in fact, they were spying on us. Studying our ways so they could make us sic—” the effort to stop was visible, and he shook.
“We, the people of Human Space, won’t judge other species for how they live. But we will draw the line at being forced to act in ways that are antithetical to who we are. They claimed to want to help us advance, to join them in sharing technology. But when we are close to catching up to them with our anti-matter research, what do they do? Kidnap one of our experts. When we attempt to make trade easier? They destroy the station so many of you have poured sweat and love into seeing built.”
People screamed, and Gralgiran realized this was taking place outside.
“Well, enough is enough. If those Kelsirians don’t want us unless we become debased, like them. Then we don’t want them. From this moment, any Kelsirian crossing into our space will be arrested on charges of espionage and trialed as such. Should we ever decide to join this Federation that welcomes people like them, we will do so with allies who understand the human people. Who accept how we are. Who won’t demand we make ourselves into animals, like them.”
The projection went black. Then was replaced with the admiral.
“The Earthers officially closed their borders to us as this was broadcast.”
“Did we have any ambassadors left among them?”
“No. They were recalled when the decision to withdraw our support for their entry into the Federation was reached.”
He nodded. At least, that wasn’t something they had to worry about.
“This is also not an accusation against you, Alpha.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Was there ever question of if I’d committed the acts they claim?”
The time it took her to respond was telling. “No. But there was a discussion about using that to force you to return to Kelser to answer the implied charges.”
“Is that still being considered?”
She rubbed her face. “Alpha, you do not make it easy to deal with you. Because of that, you have made many enemies among the Leadership. If you aren’t careful, they will eventually outweigh those who understand the good the Hunters do for Kelser.”
“I can’t control how the Leadership views my actions, Admiral. I do what I’m tasked with to the best of my ability.”
“I know.” She sounded tired. “But….” She sighed. “We already had that discussion. You’ll do what the gods demand of you, and we have to deal with the consequences.”
He didn’t like the way she thought about it. He was aware of the consequences. Although the Earthers had demonstrated he hadn’t considered the length they’d go to in their reprisals.
“Admiral, my Alpha is on Kelser. We have betas whose sole purpose is to interface with the Leadership. You have people to go to when there are questions of what the orders you want to give us mean in relation to our service to our gods.”
“And do you think they are anymore flexible than you, Alpha? You aren’t the only problem for us among the hunters. If you were, we wouldn’t care. One maverick can be ignored.”
“But I made myself the visible one through my successes, and the Federation media reporting on it.”
She nodded. “You have become a character of ballads. I’m amazed there aren’t any official ones being broadcasted at this point.”
“It’s not allowed. Our lives belong to the gods, not to those who would make them whatever they want.”
“There’s still plenty of unofficial ones. Because of them, we get the hunter’s rejects, instead of being the first choice of those seeking to protect Kelser.”
“Those we don’t accept will still make remarkable soldiers.”
“That isn’t the point.” She took breaths. “We are supposed to be the front line. You are supposed to be those dealing with the oddities. But for the last few centuries, there’s been a shift, and you’re seen as more important than the military.”
“Not by us.” Gralgiran knew that. Just like he had a good understanding of why the shift had happened. The Leadership, along with the politicians, were slow to change, while the hunters existed to adapt to what the battle line demanded. When space opened, the hunters went to it without hesitation, while the Leadership evaluated the pros and cons. For nearly a century, they’re refused to accept the Line had moved. By the time they finally made it, the Hunters had contracts with the Federation for most of the Line, and their performance had never brought those contracts into doubt, leading to requests they be moved a different group.
“Not by you,” she replied pointedly. “But some within the hunters think themselves above us.”
“We all serve the gods, in the end.”
She almost rolled her eyes.
“Have you brought those Alphas to our Alpha’s attention?”
“You really expect me to believe she’ll bring them in line? You keep telling us you only answer to the gods, and she’d the first among you.”
“Admiral. I can’t tell you what she’ll do. I’m asking, have you even tried? Or is the Leadership letting this animosity toward us widen the gap instead of trying to narrow it? We answer to the gods, because that is how we best serve Kelser. Thinking we are better than the others who serve our people isn’t what the gods want from us.”
“You would be so much easier to deal with if you weren’t so fucking understanding,” she grumbled.
He chuckled. “One of the gods I am named for is the one of Justice. He requires that I bring understanding to handling any situation.” His ears folded back. “I will admit it’s easier to do when I’m not the one dealing with problem hunters.”
She chuckled. “So they give you trouble too? That’s good to know.”
“We are people. Regardless of our namesakes, we will make mistakes, and our superiors will have to deal with them.”
She nodded. “Some will use this against you,” she said. “But they can’t make you responsible for this debacle the Earthers are becoming. I wanted you to know that much. Have—”
“Admiral. I need to know. Are you my ally?” As Toom kept telling him. He needed to make some among the Leadership.
“I respect you, Alpha. I respect the work the hunters do. But I can’t be active in your defense. I’m sorry.”
He nodded. He was too visible, another within the Leadership had told him, when Gralgiran had thought they might be. Another had said he could be, if Gralgiran was wiling to do something in return.
Politics. It was always Politics.
“I understand. Thank you for informing me.”
He ended the transmission.
*
Gralgiran paced before the door, drawing smiles from the hunters at their stations. Him, agitated, wasn’t a common sight. Although it had become more so since finding his Heart.
The door opened, and he was before it as the two hunters exited, supporting an injured Jer between them. He gingerly took him from them. “I’ve got you.”
Jer clung to him as hard as his weakened state let him. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, and internal injuries sapped much of a person’s strength, even someone as resilient as an Earther.
“Medical’s ready for you,” he said, to keep his Heart from losing consciousness. None of the injuries were life threatening, but a coma was possible. Even if those were treatable, it was always better to avoid them. “I’m proud of you.”
Learning to resist physical torture was no easier than dealing with emotional ones, and unlike those, where it was possible to think his way around and out of it, pain was pain. No amount of wishing it was something else made it so. Resistance to it came from being exposed to it. Learning to think while under its effect.
There were methods to cause pain that didn’t create injuries, but it had been discovered that there was an aspect it didn’t prepare the recipient for when they were caught and tortured. Seeing an injury, your arm bent in the wrong direction, was a terror different from the pain itself. So they’d gone back to the old methods, while using modern tools.
He entered medical, and a medic guided him to the bed that had been readied. They didn’t often deal with these types of injury. Work and combat injuries were rarely this extensive due to the precision needed to cause this much damage and not kill the person. But Jer wasn’t the first on the ship to join the hunters. So Medical had needed the training.
“We’ll have him back to you tomorrow, Captain,” the medic said, her expression and angle of the ears telling him to leave. He managed it, but couldn’t consider going to their apartment, so he contacted Dres for company and distraction.
Comments
Marcwolf
Well... Officially Earth is out of the picture... but behind the scenes they will be worse. Poor Jer, I hope the mental aspect of the torture will be survivable.
