They delayed the meeting for twenty-four hours while Maggie and Mairead got some much-needed rest. The Tu’udh’hizh’ak ship was still holding the same relative position, so Captain Hadad decided it was worth the risk to wait. He wanted both Tinkers’ input before he decided.

Diggs still hadn’t forgiven Maggie, but when she woke she spotted him casting nervous glances in her direction, before turning his back to her when he realized she’d noticed his concern. Must look like hell, she thought to herself, a suspicion she confirmed when she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her color was better than the charcoal gray Blye had observed when completing the upgrades, but that didn’t mean she looked good.

Isi had plenty of his hot liquid mud on hand when Remi called the powwow to order. It still tasted like crap, but it would shake loose the cobwebs. Seated in his command chair like a usurper perched on a throne, he turned to the lone Dharmist. “So, do you speak Tu’udh’hizh’ak?” he inquired.

“To the best of my knowledge the Chell are the only species other than the Tu’udh’hizh’ak themselves who speak their language,” Genvass explained.

“...the Chell?” Prash asked.

“They are a client race of the Tu’udh’hizh’ak Empire,” the Dharmist clarified. “All interactions go through them. There isn’t any software available to learn their tongue or plug into a voder.” He fidgeted in his seat. “It’s rare to even see one of the Tu’udh’hizh’ak, except at the very highest Imperial levels. The Chell have been their representatives for as long as anyone remembers.”

“So, if we hailed their ship…” Remi mused.

“You would be speaking to a Chell,” Genvass nodded. “For all intents and purposes, they are the Empire’s military. They are also the ones who conduct their trade and handle communications.”

“Fine then...do you speak Chell?” Remi pressed.

“I do,” he nodded. “It’s one of the easier languages for a human to speak, in fact.”

“Sounds like they’re not unlike the Ottoman Empire’s Janissaries,” Samara interjected, as the others looked at her in surprise. “Yes...I read,” she chuckled.

“Interesting,” the Corsair said after a moment. “Perhaps there’s an angle here we can exploit. If they’re slaves to the Tu’udh’hizh’ak…” He paused, as Genvass began shaking his head. “You disagree?”

“If you’re hoping to start a rebellion among the Chell...don’t bother. They are utterly loyal, almost to a fault,” he informed the captain. “In fact, they seem honored to be serving their Masters.”

“They’re brainwashed,” Remi grimaced, “conditioned to adore their slave masters.”

“It is likely much more complicated than that, but no one knows for certain,” the Dharmist clarified. “What little we know about their relationship is shrouded in mystery.”

“Where does that leave us then?” Sergeant Kai challenged them. “We still have the same problem...can’t run and can’t fight.”

“I was just coming to that,” he smirked, turning to Maggie. “You’re up.”

The older woman had been dozing off, only to be jolted awake by a nudge from her fellow Tinker. “...huh? What?”: She rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus. “Oh...right,” she nodded, realizing where they were in the discussion. “Yeah...so the normal options are out the airlock. Unless we wanna end up as a statistic, we’re gonna have to get sneaky.”

Samara gave her a smoldering look. “I think I like this idea,” she smirked, blowing the older woman a kiss which Maggie ignored. “And how do you propose we do that?”

She shrugged, but even that simple motion took supreme effort. “We give ‘em what they want.”

Blye’s jaw dropped. “You want to just wave the white flag? You, of all people?”

Maggie shook her head. “Not what I’m sayin’,” she answered, before glancing at the main monitor. “You aim to take this, Alphad?”

The winged Avatar produced an old-fashioned top and black wand from thin air. “And for my next magic trick, I’ll pull a rabbit out of this chapeau.” The others just stared at each other as he sighed, “...tough room. Anyway...watch close. Nothing up my sleeves,” he grinned, tapping the hat with the wand before reaching inside. “And Abracadabra!” Alphad announced to the crowd...as he pulled out the head of a snarling Nygigian Dire Beast, its teeth snapping at him. “Oops,” he grinned, shoving it back inside, “wrong hat.”

“What. The fuck,” Sergeant Kai said, deadpan.

The Avatar waved his hand as the hat and cane disappeared once more. “Just making a point,” he chuckled. “Maggie isn’t suggesting we give them the real data...just a reasonable knockoff they’ll accept as genuine.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” the Corsair pilot Xuilan asked. “Sure, we can give them coordinates to some random system, but once they get there, they’ll know we’ve pulled a fast one.”

“There’ll be blowback,” Rúna predicted. “They sure as hell won’t tolerate us yanking their chain. They’ll come after us once they realize what we’ve done.”

“Maybe,” Maggie admitted. “All right, probably. But they were always comin’ after us. This way, we buy us some time.”

“If it works,” Genvass said. “It sounds like a fool’s errand.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Samara smirked, as she rested a hand on the Dharmist’s arm. “It seems to be the only course of action that gives us options, and I’m all in favor of that.” He turned to her in shock as if she had betrayed him, only to have the Protean bat her eyelashes in reply, a gesture that only seemed to rattle him further.

The shapeshifter’s support also surprised Maggie...in fact, she had had an argument prepared to counter her objections. Having her throw in like this felt...off. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the strange woman. What’s your game, Protean? she pondered.

“I am willing to consider alternate stratagems,” Remi volunteered, as he gazed at each of those in attendance. Some reciprocated, others looked away,...but no one offered another suggestion. “Very well then,” he nodded, “I suggest we prepare ourselves. Ser Shaafvaazif?” he spoke up, singling out the Dharmist.

“...I believe we have a call to make.”

Watching the Tu’udh’hizh’ak vessel approach was a study in humility. A Corvette in most navies implied a pocket-sized ship, built for close in work...but the craft pulling abreast to dock was massive, rivaling Freya in size. Compared to the other ships in the Imperial Fleet, it was tiny, speaking volumes as to the power of the Empire.

Maggie followed its advance with apprehension, tugging at the collar of her new clothes. The entire mission had pooled their resources, coming up with an outfit more befitting this auspicious occasion, and she hated it. Genvass had established contact easily enough, even if they seemed somewhat surprised by the call. What followed was a dance of tradition, diplomacy, combined with a healthy sprinkling of good old-fashioned paranoia, as both sides hammered out a protocol for a face-to-face meeting. The Chell had insisted the conference take place aboard their own vessel, the visiting group be limited to just three, and that they arrive unarmed.

Which set off some rather heated discussions aboard the Gyrfalcon.

They needed Genvass as an interpreter, obviously, but that still left two slots open. Captain Hadad insisted he and his crew remain aboard the ship, should the worst happen, and having one of the trio be an Avatar had been quickly shot down, likely fearing some attempt at espionage. Blye’s pregnancy had been the deciding factor against her inclusion, while the thought of Sergeant Kai in a diplomatic role was downright laughable.

When the dust finally settled, the party comprised Genvass, Maggie...and Samara. Rúna had first insisted on accompanying her to the alien ship, but when pressed on being disarmed she suddenly grew cagey. It didn’t take a genius to guess she had plans of slipping something past their security, a dangerous proposition even in the best of times. She dug in her heels, refusing to even discuss it...when Samara entered the discussion, offering her services to protect the other two. Maggie had gotten in her face at that point, demanding to know what she planned to sneak in, only to have the Protean chortle in amusement stating she didn’t need weapons.

A collaborator, a Tinker, and an assassin. What could possibly go wrong?

Goin’ into the belly of the beast with two folks I don’t trust as far as I could throw, she grumbled. Whose stupid idea was this again? That she’d be the third envoy had never been in doubt; as the sole survivor of the first mission to Earth, everyone...including her…had assumed her inclusion.

“The Tu’udh’hizh’ak ship has come to a full stop, relative to our position,” Remi announced from the bridge. “They’re extending the walkway now.” Which was a comfort at least, since there’d be no clumsy EVA on this excursion. Gazing out the airlock porthole the behemoth craft blotted out the stars, and as she watched Maggie spotted the walkway telescoping out towards them. Grav plating lined the lower half, which surprised her...apparently they had power to burn.

“Hard dock. Good seal,” the Corsair informed them over the intercom, as the walkway thumped into place. “Pressurizing now. You three ready?”

“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered, glancing at her companions. Genvass appeared eager...but then he would, wouldn’t he? Samara, she was harder to read. There was something behind those lidded eyes, an almost cat-like predatory instinct that sent chills down her back. “Don’t start nothin’,” she warned them...though it was mostly for the Protean’s benefit.

“Perish the thought,” the younger woman said with a wink which did little to reassure her.

“When we arrive, follow my lead,” Genvass informed them as he explained the protocol. “There will be a few gestures like bowing, but they’re simple. Just do as I do.”

“Got it,” she told him.

“Pressurization complete,” came from the squawk box. “Last chance to change your minds.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Maggie growled. “Open the damn airlock.”

“Cracking the seal now,” Remi announced. “Good luck.”

“We’re gonna need it,” she answered, stepping onto the walkway.

It didn’t look like much, just an empty tunnel. There were no windows, though it was well lit, a minimalist look all around. “Once we’re in, introduce me and let me do the talkin’,” she told the Dharmist, “while you keep your head down and try not to scare anybody,” she said to Samara.

“One step ahead of you,” she purred, and as Maggie turned she saw the Protean had rearranged her features, giving her an almost nondescript appearance.

“Perfect,” she nodded, as they came to a halt on the far side of the walkway. Pressing the call button, Genvass took his position in front, as the hatch cycled open a moment later.

...they looked like hamsters, with far too many limbs.

She blinked in surprise, almost missing her cue as their interpreter bowed, greeting their hosts with a string of chirrups, squeals, and growls. As they rose, she realized her first impression wasn’t accurate; while they were covered with fur, that’s where the resemblance ended. They stood shy of two meters tall on their hind legs, their thick pelts colored in shades of gray, brown, and cream, with black featureless eyes impossible to read. Also, unlike hamsters, the Chell had tails, thick and hairless, aiding their balance. If it weren’t for the situation, she’d almost be tempted to say they were cute.

“On behalf of the Tu’udh’hizh’ak Empire, long may they reign, we welcome you to our vessel,” the leading Chell said without warning using a voder. “We wished to ensure all present heard and understood us. Do not take this as a criticism regarding your ability to speak our language...in fact, it is quite good.”

Genvass seemed surprised by this turn of events, though he recovered. “You honor us,” he demurred, stepping aside to let Maggie take the lead role.

“Please, follow us,” the leader spoke once more, dropping to use six of his eight extremities for locomotion, leading them down a broad hallway. The air was growing warmer and more humid...in fact it was getting downright muggy, but that wasn’t what had set the Tinker on edge.

The Chell were being nice.

She’d bumped into more species than you could shake a stick at over the years, but there was one thing they all had in common…none of them had any love for humans. They weren’t all like the To’uuk, hostile and dangerous, or even like the Azha-Xaak, aloof and dismissive. Some, like the Baishain Genvass had pledged his allegiance to, were willing to overlook humanity’s defects to put their expertise to work, or prove how “Open Minded” they were...but none of the races she’d run across over the years had ever treated them like honored guests.

Something was wrong.

“May I ask where you are taking us?” Maggie inquired.

The lead Chell bobbed his head. “You are being accorded a great honor,” he informed her. “Our Master has granted you an audience.”

“...wait...one of the Tu’udh’hizh’ak wants to speak to us?” she squeaked. She snapped her head over to the Dharmist. “I thought you said no one saw them, except at the top?”

Genvass looked as if he were about to bolt. “It’s unheard of,” he whispered. “I don’t think any human has seen one.”

Maggie was thinking about making a break for it...not that she would have gotten far...when she felt a touch on her arm. Samara’s eyes bored into hers before giving her head a quick shake. A warning that they were in too deep now to back out.

She didn’t like this, not one bit, only the Protean was right. They were committed, and all they could do was play the cards they’d been dealt. Turning a corner, it led them down a short corridor, coming to a halt before yet another entrance. Two more Chell stood guard on either side, staring impassively, as the hatch cycled open...only to reveal what appeared to be a small inland sea.

The trio stared in wonder as they were ushered inside, marvelling at the attention to detail. It was an artificial body of water, but they had gone to great lengths to make it appear to be natural. Scenes of alien wildlife, projections of some sort, obscured the bulkheads. A heavy fog hung over the water and the multitude of small islands that rose from the water. They could see many more Chell here, scurrying about on various tasks, and to their surprise they discovered the species was at the very least semi-aquatic, moving in and out of the water with practiced ease.

The air was thick with water vapor and the smell of rotting vegetation. For some reason they had recreated a swamp inside their ship. Their hosts guided them to the edge, then stepped back and dropped to their knees. That was an obvious enough cue so Maggie followed suit, with Samara and Genvass right behind her.

There was a ripple in the water, a long serpentine curve that swept back and forth. She held her breath in anticipation as a black triangular-shaped head appeared, breaking the surface and rising before her, attached to an amphibian’s long thin torso. The Tu’udh’hizh’ak gazed at them as if it were waiting for something, when Maggie felt something, heard something...though they had not spoken a single word.

Why are you here? a voice whispered, drilling deep into her brain.