“Why have you done this?”

Bidras’nassa, Overseer of The Time and the Valkyrie’s liaison to the Sonoitii, gazed down at the gathered humans. Its expression, despite the inherent difficulties in reading such an alien species, was decidedly mournful. “We brought you here to guard and protect our offspring, nothing more.”

As before, First Squad accompanied the colonel for security. Truthfully, Rúna was glad for the distraction. After their meeting with the Oivu, she had plenty on her mind.

“And that’s exactly what we’ve done, despite the price we’ve paid,” Colonel Holme shot back. “Half of my battalion is lying wounded, or dead. Terran blood stains the hills and valleys of this world, now and forever.”

“We acknowledge our debt to you,” Bidras’nassa acquiesced with a bow of its massive head, “yet you have gone far beyond the scope of our contract. It is one thing to defend against agents of the Troika. It is quite another to declare war on them. By doing so, you have placed my people and my world in jeopardy.”

The colonel regarded the giant creature with impertinence. “I remember our first meeting, Bidras’nassa,” he said. “You called us land creatures, nothing but untrustworthy sell swords and free lances. You assumed from the very beginning that we would inevitably betray you, running from our posts at the first sign of danger like so many before. But I wonder if you can recall what I promised you?”

It took the water dragon a long time to respond. “You vowed to protect our offspring, as if they were your own,” it said at last, begrudgingly.

And look what it’s cost us, Rúna thought angrily to herself.

“That’s right,” he agreed, “and I submit we have done precisely that, putting our lives on the line again and again to protect your hatchlings. We’ve risked everything to keep our promise, but force of arms alone cannot win this fight.”

“As much as it grieves us, rationality forces us to recognize that some battles come at too high a price,” it said gravely. “We would have accepted losing some of our offspring, if it meant that the whole would survive. By deliberating provoking the Troika, by seeking to build an alliance against them, you have placed my kind in peril. When they come, they will not believe we were not party to this madness from the beginning, no matter how loudly we protest. They will simply end us, alongside you.” Sorrow filled its enormous eyes. “So I ask you again… why have you done this?”

“Because we had no choice,” he answered softly. “You fear for your people, and your home. I understand that. But we Terrans, we have no home. We’ve been fighting for our survival for two hundred years, and yet our circumstances grow steadily worse, not better, thanks to the Troika and their minions. Greed was not the sole reason they sent so many warriors against us. They seek to end us because we aren’t sufficiently deferential to their power. They seek to end us because they see us as troublesome.” His shoulders slumped as he looked out over the waves. “They seek to end us… because they can.” The colonel looked back up to the Sonoitii. “Just as they would end you; if not today, then tomorrow, or the next.”

“They would not do this, had you not acted so rashly,” Bidras’nassa protested. “They need us to endure, so that they may continue to harvest our eggs.” A low rumble vibrated within the sea dragon’s neck and chest, causing the water to froth as it spit out the words.

“Your eggs are merely a convenience, Overseer,” Holme replied. “Their scientists are masters of genetic manipulation, and were your race to disappear, they would simply synthesize the enzyme that your hatchlings provide.”

“Then why have they not done so?” the dragon demanded.

Colonel Holme sighed. “Because this is easier,” he answered, “and because they can.”

The long purple tendrils attached to its scalp writhed and cracked like whips as it glared at the humans in fury. Rúna gripped her weapon tightly, suddenly fearful the imposing creature was readying itself to attack.

Instead, it threw back its mammoth head, and roared.

The sound exploded like the devil’s own foghorn, echoing across the open sea. The humans clasped their hands over their ears in pain, desperate to shut out the barrage of sound as the immense creature bellowed in rage and anguish. Off in the distance other Sonoitii took up the cry, their voices adding to Bidras’nassa’s call like something out of an ancient myth.

Rúna could only watch in awe as these creatures of legend roiled the oceans with their battle-cry, declaring war against their enemies.

As the howls and screams slowly died away, the Sonoitii returned its gaze to the humans. “Long have we known this day might come,” the giant kraken told them, in much softer tones, “though we have done everything in our power to forestall it. We are limited in ways that hamper our efforts, yet we will do what we can.”

“Thank you,” Colonel Holme said sincerely.

“I wish you had not brought this war to us,” Bidras’nassa told him, “but now that it has come, we will fight with all we have.”

It turned out the Sonoitii weren’t the only ones wanting a word regarding recent events, as Rúna discovered when Paygan Xeing asked to meet. Despite the goodwill they’d built up during their previous encounters, something about the request put her on alert. She grabbed Kai for backup before locating a quiet room where they could talk.

The Ixi mercenary came straight to the point. “I understand you have put out a call to form an alliance against the Troika,” he said to them. “Have you had any responses?”

“I’m not entirely sure we’re allowed to discuss that with you,” Kai interjected. “Like you said, we’re still enemies.”

“Perhaps not,” he said enigmatically. “I would also dearly love to know how you convinced the Oivu to come here, contravening millennia of established protocol.”

“Don’t think we can tell you that, either” Rúna pointed out.

“Hmm, that leaves us at something of an impasse,” the Paygan mused. “You will not object if I merely speculate about what has taken place?”

The Terrans looked at one another and shrugged. “Speculate away,” the corporal told him.

The Ixi commander flashed her a toothy grin. “The Oivu are savvy merchants, with a keen eye for emerging markets and shifting trends. That they came here, past our fleets, says a great deal. That our fleets allowed them to pass says even more.”

Rúna raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

“Obviously,” he continued, “you have made some sort of deal with the Oivu, offering them something of value. Not credits or trade goods, as you are far too poor to have enough of either to warrant this sort of attention. What, then?” he wondered aloud. “When framed in that manner, the answer becomes obvious. There is only one coin which you might possess that would interest the Oivu. Information.”

Both Valkyries were now loudly saying nothing, despite their best efforts. The Paygan chuckled in delight. “I sincerely hope neither of you intends to pursue a career in espionage,” he taunted them.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Rúna told Kai, before rising to her feet.

“No, please, my apologies,” the alien said, his demeanor instantly becoming more courteous. “I have been frequently told that my sense of humor can be ill-chosen. Forgive me.”

She paused for a moment, weighing her options, then slowly sat back down. “What is it you want, Paygan?” she asked him.

The Ixi leader steepled his fingers, choosing his words with care. “You asked me how the races of the galaxy regard the Troika,” he reminded her, “and mine is no different. Long have we chafed under their regime, dreaming of a galaxy free from their influence. But no race is powerful enough to stand against them, not alone. It may surprise you to learn that you are not the first to consider an alliance, however, you may well be the first in centuries to actually try.”

“Get to the point,” Kai snapped.

“As you wish,” he told them, inclining his head. “Since you appreciate both brevity and candor, I will simply say this: I wish to join your alliance.”

“Well, that’s… flattering,” Rúna said carefully, “and we’ll be certain to pass along your generous offer. But being honest? I don’t see how a single Ixi mercenary signing on helps us.”

“Ah, did I neglect to mention what I bring to the table as an incentive?” he chortled, his eyes dancing with delight. He leaned forward and said, “Would having the entire Ixi race join the alliance possibly change your mind? A race of trained and proven warriors?”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kai deadpanned. “There’s no way you could make that happen.”

“I might surprise you,” the Paygan smiled. “My family is not without some measure of influence among my kind. Perhaps you know of the great Khshayathiya, Yuubazh the Munificent?”

Rúna blinked. “The what?”

The alien sighed. “Our emperor,” he stressed. “A second cousin twice or thrice removed. I cannot recall which,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I always felt the ‘Munificent’ title to be a stretch, considering how difficult it is to pry a spare credit from his purse, but the people seem to like it.”

The pairs of humans just stared, dumbfounded. “... this isn’t happening,” Kai muttered.

“Wait, so… you’re the king’s cousin?” Rúna stammered.

“Emperor,” he corrected her. “Referring to him as a mere ‘king’ would be seen as Lèse-majesté… or even blasphemy, among the more religious minded. Though of course I do not expect an alien to be versed on the finer points of Ixian Imperial etiquette,” he said with a broad grin.

The Valkyries were both struggling to wrap their heads around this latest development. “Hold on, if you’re the king’s… emperor’s… cousin, what are you doing here?” the corporal demanded. “Why aren’t you back living the sweet life at court, with an army of servants to do your bidding?”

The Paygan looked insulted. “Am I some weakling fop, too craven to test my blade? The Ixi are warriors, first and always. One does not find worthy adversaries at court,” he sniffed derisively. He glared at them both, before finally relenting. “Besides, my presence here serves another purpose, one I would not normally share with outsiders, but given the circumstances I find myself in…”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “The Imperial family is quite large, as you might suspect, and many… such as myself… are temperamentally unsuited for Ministry service. So instead we join the Brigade where we are sent to battle all across the Perseus Arm, against a multitude of foes.” He paused, shrugging. “And if, by chance, we discover some random scrap of information the Emperor may find useful, we are well-positioned to ensure that he learns of it.”

“So, you’re a spy,” Kai groaned. “Lovely. And just how many ‘scraps’ have you passed on about us?”

The Ixi’s hand went to his chest. “I am not some lowly snoop,” he said haughtily. “If you must know my Imperial title in that regard, well, we’re rather informal about the whole thing, really. We refer to ourselves as ‘Exploring Officers’.” He gave them both a disarming smile.

“Like I said… spy,” the sergeant repeated, unimpressed.

“Okay, so you’re not just some random mercenary,” Rúna continued, picking up the thread, “and you’re connected. Fine. There’s no way you can promise that your cousin will actually sign on to this alliance, plus there’s that slight matter of us still being enemies, remember?” She folded her arms, shaking her head. “Or are you going to claim that you’re his favorite, or something?”

“I am most definitely not his favorite,” he chuckled. “There was an incident when we were younger, involving a rather fetching courtesan…” He winked at them, before waving it aside. “However, he respects my opinion in matters such as these, that much I can promise you. And while you are correct that I do not speak with his voice, I know well my cousin’s thoughts regarding the Troika. He has long fumed at their arrogance, but he required the proper moment in which to act.”

“And you think this is that moment,” she pressed him. “Why?”

The Paygan took a moment to consider his answer. “Something has changed this past year, something that has put the Troika on edge. The three races have always been wary of one another, but now something is driving a wedge between them. We do not know what has set them at odds, but rumors have reached our ears that somehow, it involves you. You Terrans, I mean,” he said curiously.

Rúna and Kai shot each other a nervous look, one that did not go unnoticed. “Ah, so you know of what I speak,” he chuckled. “Somehow, I thought you might.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Kai badgered him.

“Did you think your meeting with the Oivu would go unnoticed by your enemies?” he asked them. “A conference of that import should have been attended by your colonel, along with his most trusted advisers. But instead of your highest-ranking members, your lowest appeared instead. Strange, that,” he smiled. “One wonders how that came to be.”

The two humans clamped down hard. “Can’t help you,” Rúna shrugged, shooting for indifference.

“Of course,” he chuckled, his grin growing even wider. “But we shall set that aside for the moment and focus on your agreement with the Oivu. They are well known throughout the galaxy for their deals, giving them the perfect cover. When the Troika express displeasure at their involvement... and they will… they can state with utter sincerity that they were merely fulfilling their part of a contract, and nothing more.” He shook his head in admiration. “For a pair of neophytes, that was skillfully done.”

“Thanks,” Kai mumbled, earning him a look.

“And then there are other rumors that have found their way to us,” he continued, “whispers of attacks and sabotage the Troika have desperately tried to suppress. Races besides my own have heard these tales as well and are beginning to wonder if perhaps the mighty Troika is finally losing its grip. In hidden places across the Arm, plans are being made, and swords are being sharpened. All that is needed… is a spark.” His joking, playful demeanor disappeared as the Paygan was suddenly all business. “You are that spark,” he declared, “and this world is where the galaxy will be set ablaze.”

“That’s a… disturbing image,” Rúna swallowed, “considering how easily fire can burn out of control.”

“Then know this,” he cautioned them, “for fire can either be your servant, or your master.” His eyes bore into theirs. “And only you can decide which it will be.”