Page 31 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded (Rogue Bonds #2)
Zeke
“H oly shit, that’s crazy,” Gasrin said, tapping his bright yellow fingers on the table in the cramped office at the side of the camp. I suspected it was a form of self-soothing, born of his ongoing anxiety, so I refrained from asking him to stop, even though I found the sound annoying.
I’d just finished explaining to him and Ru what had happened that morning – an answer to their apprehension at the somewhat dishevelled appearance of the camp – and thankfully, all the troublemakers had been removed by now, with only two police cars remaining, the officers taking statements from the Halagals about what had happened. “It always amazes me that people can be so selfish when someone else needs help. They’re not even being asked to participate. All they have to do is keep their mouths shut and let someone else do the work, but apparently, even that’s too much to ask.”
“People are assholes,” Ru stated, far less generous in her estimation of everyday citizens than Gasrin was. “It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” She was sitting stiffly, both hands held awkwardly in her lap. She was trying hard to keep her prosthetic hand covered with her real one, apparently anxious about what I would think of the appendage. It was a slightly darker purple than her natural skin – different enough that it was fairly noticeable – and I hadn’t yet thought of a diplomatic way to tell her I didn’t give a shit what her hand looked like; I was just glad to see her alive and well.
“But how are you doing?” she asked, levelling a stern look my way. “Getting caught in the middle of a small riot doesn’t sound like a great thing for your mental health.” She’d been concerned ever since I’d told her that I was heading up this project, and to be honest, her reservations were entirely justified. The only reassurance I’d been able to give her was that it was a temporary trial to see how I handled it. If things went badly, then I’d take a step back and reassess.
At her question, my first reaction was to glance at Dax. He was seated beside me, and he reached over and squeezed my hand. Fuck, I’d be so lost without him. Even just that gentle touch was enough to ease some of my tension. “I was honestly surprised that I didn’t freak out over it,” I said to Ru, deciding there was no point in trying to put on a brave face. She’d see straight through any pretence anyway, and we’d been through enough together that I figured she had the right to an honest answer. “It’s the sort of thing that, by all rights, should have set me off. I don’t know… maybe it was the adrenaline that just kept me going? Maybe it was the knowledge that this was an actual emergency, rather than me just jumping at shadows? The PTSD certainly hasn’t gone away, and it never will, but it’s nice to see that-”
The office door was yanked open suddenly, slamming into the side of the building with a thud. I was out of my seat in an instant, a high pitched yelp bursting from me as I threw myself into the corner, my chair clutched in front of me as a shield.
Dax was on his feet a moment later, planting himself between me and the door, and I was dimly aware of Gasrin scurrying back to hide behind a stationery cupboard, with Ru on her feet, defending them both with another chair.
Through Dax’s legs, I caught a glimpse of Goroz standing in the doorway. He saw our reaction and immediately ducked his head, taking a step back. “I apologise,” he said – a rare and unexpected gesture for a Ranzor. “I forgot that you do not like to be startled.” Even in the midst of trying to control my panic, I was both surprised and a little baffled at the apology. Goroz was picking up Alliance social customs incredibly quickly for a species that had such a tendency to say exactly what they thought.
Thankfully, the intrusion didn’t throw me into a full panic attack, so I took a moment to take a few deep breaths, giving myself permission to remain sitting on the floor for another minute or so. That was something my psychologist had said; I needed to be kind to myself when things like this happened, since beating myself up for things that were beyond my control was only going to make my depression and anxiety worse. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but I was determined to give it a try. And somehow, it helped to know that Gasrin and Ru had both also had strong reactions to the interruption. It made my own reaction seem more reasonable.
“Did you need something urgent?” I asked Goroz. After this morning, I was still on edge about potential troublemakers, and Goroz wasn’t the type to create a fuss if there wasn’t a problem.
“I have received an update from Hazharu,” Goroz said. “Your ships have arrived and have joined the battle.” He lifted his arm tentatively, the comm on his wrist glowing faintly. “I thought perhaps you would like to see the video report?”
With an effort of will, I forced my shaking legs to stand, though I was aware I was clutching the edge of the table to steady myself. “Oh. Yes, actually. That would be very interesting.” In truth, I was suddenly champing at the bit to know what was going on at Hazharu. I’d found out from Henderson that we’d sent a fleet of over a hundred ships to join the battle, the Alliance Military going all-out in response to the Culrads’ assertion that the easiest way to win the war would be to prevent the Nwandu from gaining a foothold.
“We’ll come outside,” I decided quickly, knowing that the office was going to start feeling very crowded if Goroz came inside as well.
I gave Ru a nod, but left her to decide when to put her chair down, and then said to them both, “Come out when you’re ready. No rush.” I put a hand on Dax’s shoulder and let him lead me out of the office. He was perfectly calm, not angry at Goroz for his mistake, not making too much fuss over my own reaction. He was ready and willing to lend support, but also getting extremely good at reading my moods, as to how severe a reaction he should have to the situation.
Actually, he’d been exceptionally calm all day. After getting shot, he’d allowed the paramedics to numb his wound and put a few stitches in it, but then firmly stated that he didn’t need any further treatment. He’d said he wanted to stay here with me. And it was such a rare thing to hear him say that he wanted anything that I’d immediately given in and allowed him to stay. I would certainly be keeping a close eye on his injury – and making sure he took both the painkillers and the antibiotics the paramedic had given him – but aside from that, he didn’t seem terribly bothered by the fact that he’d damn well been shot!
Outside, I checked to make sure none of the Halagals were too close. As much as this was their war, I didn’t want to let them view the footage until I knew exactly what it contained. Fortunately, most of the camp was still too caught up in cleaning up after the riot to pay us much attention.
A few minutes later, Ru and Gasrin came out. I’d had to gain a basic level of clearance from Henderson to invite them to the camp in the first place, and given what they already knew about the Nwandu, the Ranzors, and the Alliance’s own response to the situation, I didn’t expect there to be anything in Goroz’s report that they shouldn’t be seeing.
“Okay, let’s take a look,” I said to Goroz. “Do you know exactly when they arrived?” I would likely be getting this information from Henderson at some point, but given the amount of work he had to do at the moment, the base-wide updates could face significant delays.
Goroz tapped at his comm, and I noted that the Ranzors’ design for the handy devices was different from ours, allowing them to use their large claws to navigate, rather than our relatively delicate fingers. “Three hours ago,” he reported. “They have already engaged with Nwandu forces.” He moved around to the rear of the building, where it was more sheltered and the rest of the camp wouldn’t be able to view the report. Then he set it to play, his comm projecting it onto the wall of the building.
The video began inside one of the Alliance cruisers, a stern-faced Solof woman giving a point-form update on their position as they prepared to engage Nwandu fighters. Then a clip from the ship’s external sensors played, displaying intense fighting between Nwandu ships, Ranzor wingers, Culrad destroyers and a handful of ships from a few other species. At first glance, it looked like a total blood bath, but after a minute or two, I began to pick out patterns in the fighting. And while destroying the Nwandu ships wasn’t always possible, I realised that the combined forces were doing a solid job of preventing them from entering the atmosphere and landing on the planet. At the very least, that would slow down their attempts to enslave the Halagals, buying time to evacuate more civilians and allow more backup to arrive.
After a few minutes, the video switched to a scene down on the planet’s surface. Given that this was a Ranzor report, I wasn’t surprised to see the video showing a line of Ranzor warriors moving slowly along a street. The buildings around them had either been burned or had significant structural damage, and one was still on fire. Three large creatures burst out of one of the buildings, and it took me a moment to identity them. I was fairly sure they were Nargars – a species the Alliance rarely had any dealings with, who had originated on a planet about ten thousand light years away. They were massive creatures, even by Ranzor standards; one Nargar was about the size of an Earth elephant, though they were far more agile, and had far better natural weapons – huge claws on their forelimbs and horns on their heads.
But as we watched, the team of Ranzors split in half, coming at the creatures from two sides. One warrior leapt onto the Nargar’s back, while another attacked from below, using the razor sharp spines on his tail to slice a gaping line into the Nargar’s throat. Another two Ranzors were distracting one of the other Nargars, while a third snuck up behind him, then hobbled both his back legs. The pair at the front then used their claws to blind the creature, which then made it far easier to finish it off.
I wasn’t particularly enthused about watching the violence, but at the same time, I didn’t find it terribly disturbing. Given the absence of the Nwandu’s mind control bands on the Nargars, they were apparently there willingly, perhaps having hired themselves out as mercenaries. And I found it difficult to feel any particular sympathy for people who were helping to fight a war designed to enslave an entire planet.
But aside from that, I was awed by the Ranzors’ nimble grace in the battle. They were astonishingly light on their feet, moving fast, in coordinated rushes that spoke of long and disciplined training. I was sure that Goroz wasn’t showing us this to boast about his people’s prowess – he’d proven himself far too cooperative for that – but nonetheless, the silent lesson coming out of the video was do not fuck with the Ranzors . Given not only their physical strength, but their advanced technology, the Alliance wouldn’t stand a chance against them.
“Have there been many casualties amongst your people?” I asked Goroz. I wasn’t sure if Ranzors were receptive to sympathy, or whether they would view military casualties with a sense of pride, so I tried to keep my tone fairly neutral.
But to my surprise, Goroz gave a rumble of amusement. He shut off his comm before answering. “No. They have damaged a handful of our ships, but we build good ships. They do not explode, like Nwandu ships do. They just have to leave the battle for a while to be repaired. And on the ground? Have you ever met a Nwandu? They are much like humans in height and muscle mass. They are flimsy things. They do not bother us. The difficulty is trying to fight the enslaved Halagals. We could wipe them out easily, but our soldiers are trying to round them up so that the mind control devices can be removed. It is much more difficult to capture them without doing them too much damage. There are some we have had to kill, and our military leaders are not happy about that.”
From the expression on Ru’s face, she was entirely unhappy about Goroz’s report. “Humans are flimsy?” she said, but I quickly cut her off. Aside from their colouring, Solofs were physically quite similar to humans, so the insult could just as easily have been aimed at her own species.
“Compared to a Ranzor, that’s a fair assessment,” I said, giving her a subtle shake of my head. I hadn’t had a chance to give her and Gasrin a proper briefing about what to expect from the Ranzors’ mannerisms, but it was in all of our best interests to avoid starting an argument now. Ru didn’t look happy about my silent reprimand, but she obediently closed her mouth.
“But I’m impressed that the Ranzors are trying to free the Halagals, rather than killing them. It must make the whole job a lot harder.”
Goroz’s tone had been rather flippant when he’d described trying to capture the enslaved people, and I didn’t quite know what to make of the declaration that they weren’t happy about the ones they’d had to kill. According to their reputation, Ranzors were far too willing to leapt into a fight – which was one of the reasons the Alliance had called for their help in the first place. But, as I’d slowly been learning over the last few days, they apparently had a complex set of morals of their own, far beyond a simple desire to stab their claws into things.
“We are not used to this,” Goroz admitted, looking me over slowly. “We are far more accustomed to just killing things. But there are many things about the Alliance that we are not used to. Our experiences with you have been… interesting.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but thankfully, Goroz moved on before I had to think of anything. “Have you finished explaining my request to your shipmates? Are they ready to talk to me about Ixralia?”
I’d already noticed Ru’s expression of mild offence, and Gasrin’s obvious apprehension. “Give me a couple more minutes,” I told Goroz. “There’s just a few more things I need to tell them.”
???
An hour later, Dax sidled up to me as I was handing out the last of the latest food delivery. Nichols was beside me, checking off the list of refugees as we went. I tensed as Dax arrived, knowing exactly what he was about to say.
“Goroz has finished with Ru and Gasrin,” he murmured into my ear. “He and the other Ranzors would like to speak to you.”
I’d told Goroz, soon after he’d made the initial request, that I wasn’t willing to be a part of the in-person discussions – a fact I’d also informed Ru and Gasrin about, before they’d agreed to visit the camp. But I’d offered to provide a written response to any particular questions he had, and Goroz had seemed to find the compromise acceptable. The current plan was that he was going to compile a list of questions after speaking to Ru and Gasrin, and then I’d have a week or so to put my answers together.
I was fully prepared to stand my ground now, if he was going to try and push for a face to face talk about it, but nonetheless, I was apprehensive as I followed Dax across the camp back to the office. I wasn’t surprised to find Goroz waiting outside the office for me. But what did surprise me was to see the rest of the Ranzors lined up behind him. Had something gone wrong? What could be important enough that all seven of them needed to talk to me?
“What’s this about?” I murmured to Dax, but he shook his head.
“I don’t know, sir. But I have no reason to think they mean you harm.” Sure enough, Ru and Gasrin were waiting just outside the door to the office, looking perplexed, but not unduly alarmed.
Dax and I came to a stop in front of Goroz. “Dax says you wanted to speak to me?” I prompted him.
On the way over here, I’d braced myself for all manner of comments, questions or insults – intentional or otherwise. But what Goroz did next was nothing like what I’d expected. He lowered himself to one knee in front of me, head bowed, and behind him, the rest of his team did the same. “Nussar,” he growled softly, and the fact that my translator didn’t translate the word indicated that it was some kind of title. Some cultural expressions had equivalents in other languages, while others didn’t, and it was always a bit hit and miss as to what response our translators would come up with.
I glanced at Dax, as if he could explain this bizarre display, but he looked as baffled as I was. “I don’t understand the gesture you’re making,” I said to Goroz, catching myself before I could apologise for my own ignorance. For all our recent progress, apologies of that sort still seemed to confuse them. “What does it mean?”
Goroz gave one more bow of his head, then the whole team rose to their feet. “We have conveyed upon you the title of Nussar,” he explained, then he made that odd, clicking noise that I now knew was a sound of approval. “You are a warrior of the finest quality. I have underestimated both you, and the whole of your Alliance. You deserve the respect of the entire Ranzor species.”
Excuse me? I scrambled for a response to that. However blunt the Ranzors were accustomed to being, I didn’t think ‘What the fuck?’ would be appropriate. “Thank you,” I said eventually, recognising the reverence in the gesture, even if the cause of it eluded me. “What did I do to earn that title?”
Goroz glanced over at Ru and Gasrin. “These two soldiers,” he said, “have both told us the story of how you all got trapped on Ixralia. It is much the same as the way our own ship got trapped. They told us of the beasts you faced and the way the land itself reached out to kill you. And they told us of how they escaped.” Goroz made that clicking sound again, longer and louder this time. “They told me that the only reason they were able to get out was because you pulled them to safety. You freed them from their pods. You broke a hole in the containment dome, and you led them back to your ship.” A shudder ran through him. “You not only fought through the demons for your own life, but you saved three of your crew as well. Even our own fighters – some of the fiercest in the galaxy! – were only able to save themselves. They saw no way to free their trapped comrades. You, Nussar, have done the impossible. And we honour you for it.”
His words sank in… and I was surprised and embarrassed to feel tears pricking at my eyes. I blinked rapidly, steadfastly avoiding looking at Ru or Gasrin. I’d known, of course, that they were grateful to me for pulling them out of there, but if this was Goroz’s reaction to their stories, they’d clearly been singing my praises more fervently than I’d realised.
Something deep inside me settled at Goroz’s praise, and a cold, dark ball of anger I’d carried around with me for months finally began to ease. Because when we’d come back from Ixralia, the Alliance Military had been as dismissive of our reports as they could legally manage to be. I’d faced dozens of insinuations that we were exaggerating our descriptions of the monsters we’d faced, that our injuries had been less severe than we’d claimed, that we’d performed some sort of dereliction of duty by leaving the rest of our crew behind, when I’d already been having nightmares from the guilt of abandoning them.
But here, now, some of the biggest badasses in the galaxy were saying that, according to their own soldiers, I’d done what none of them had believed could be done.
Suck on that, motherfuckers , I thought, mentally hurling the insult at Alliance brass. Maybe you’ll believe the stories now. Was it too conniving to think I might be able to do something with that? Maybe get the Ranzors to share their own experiences from Ixralia, and to have Alliance Command reassess their response to their own soldiers? Would it be worth the effort? Maybe. But that was a question that could wait for another day.
“Thank you for giving my master such a great honour,” Dax spoke up suddenly, and I realised I’d been silent for too long, lost in thought and overwhelmed with emotion. “I’ll be sure to inform his commanding officer of your regard for him. Perhaps he will be given a promotion.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. I didn’t give a shit one way or the other whether I got a promotion out of this, but it was the exact right thing to say to the Ranzors. Their entire culture was based on the honour that came from military achievement, and it struck exactly the right tone for the Ranzors to be pleased with the response.
But it seemed that Goroz wasn’t quite finished. “There have been rumours of a treaty between the Ranzors and the Alliance,” he said. “Talk of gifts exchanged and the desire for peace – after we have finished destroying the Nwandu, of course. We will prove our worth first, and only then accept your gifts. But on behalf of the Ranzor conglomerate, I must place one condition on any such negotiations. You, Captain Rhodes, must lead the discussions. This will stop any of our less worthy agitators claiming that the Alliance is too weak to be a partner of the Ranzors. You have proved your species worthy. We will not negotiate unless you are there.”
They fucking what? What the hell was I supposed to say to that? I was barely holding myself together babysitting two hundred Halagals while they argued over cans of tinned stew, and now Goroz wanted me at the helm of a highly delicate interspecies negotiation?
But Ru, god bless the woman, was only too eager to lock horns with Goroz, as fearless as she’d ever been. “Negotiations between two conglomerates must necessarily include a large number of people,” she announced loudly, stepping forward. Meanwhile, Dax eased closer to me and took my hand, a timely and calming reassurance. “We would need to make sure that we have representation from a variety of different perspectives,” Ru went on, thinking faster and clearer about the whole topic than I would have managed to. “I’m sure Captain Rhodes would be delighted to be included in the discussion, but there will have to be other planets represented and there will be organisations beyond the military who must be included. There are six species in our Alliance and all of them must be given a voice.
“But before we can even consider who would be conducting the negotiations on our side, I have to ask whether you have the authority to be making decisions on your side. Do you represent your entire species? Are you certain enough of their opinions to begin making deals all by yourself?”
Holy shit. Okay, so the Ranzors were a very direct species, but I honestly wasn’t sure whether Ru had overstepped her bounds with that one.
Goroz made that low, rumbling noise that I’d learned meant he was laughing. “You are a delightful creature,” he said to Ru. “And the second one of the Captain’s team to display such a keen desire to protect him. It is now clear why he generates such loyalty in his followers.
“But in answer to your question, after I was injured, I was re-assigned to a role as a diplomat. My superiors believed my very moderate temperament would be an asset in dealing with other species. I have already negotiated a treaty between the Ranzors and the Dologals, and have been asked to study Alliance culture, in preparation for the end of this war.”
I blinked, as the shocks just kept coming. Well, that certainly explained a lot, both about Goroz’s disinclination to lose his temper, and his willingness to pay attention to Alliance social norms. He wasn’t just a retired soldier. He was a high ranking interspecies diplomat!
“This is only a temporary assignment,” Goroz went on, gesturing to the camp around us. “But your concerns are valid. I have been learning a great deal about Alliance culture since coming here, and it is true that we are currently working through a number of misunderstandings. I have the authority to arrange for diplomatic processes to begin, though as you say, more of our people would be involved in the negotiations.
“But what do you say to my request?” he asked, turning back to me. “Do you believe peace between our peoples to be a priority?”
Dax squeezed my hand, and I gripped him tightly, leaning my shoulder against him slightly, just to feel his solid form beside me. “Yes,” I said firmly, my gaze steady, even as my heart beat a rapid tempo in my chest. “I believe we both have a great deal to gain from a treaty between us. As Ru said, there will inevitably be plenty of other people involved. But I would be honoured to attend the negotiations.”