Page 33 of Reaper
“Do they seem in distress?” Doom asked.
Thanh shook her head. “No. I’m not picking up any distress calls or any warnings from our systems. I’ll go hail them.”
“No,” Doom said, rising to his feet. “I’ll go handle it.”
Thanh nodded, and we all watched Doom make his way inside the ship. My companions’ baffled expressions further increased my confusion.
“Why is it a problem that they are coming here?” I asked.
“It’s not necessarily a problem,” Reaper explained. “But it’s unusual. No Coalition ship should be in this sector. Every vessel is assigned specific patrol routes or mission destinations. We were the only ship supposed to be here. We are in Kryptid space. And while we have a truce with them now, there are still tensions remaining, although not with us, the Vanguard. Many members of the Coalition aren’t convinced that the Kryptids are sincere about peace now that the General is dead. They believe they are regrouping and rebuilding their forces before coming back at us.”
I pursed my lips, finding myself agreeing with the Coalition. “That doesn’t seem like an unreasonable suspicion,” I said.
“Indeed, not unreasonable,” Reaper said with a nod. “But we have reason to think it is unfounded. Either way, in order to reduce the risks of diplomatic incidents that could restart a war, we strictly control who is allowed to patrol this sector. They shouldn’t be here.”
“You think they are here to cause trouble?” I asked, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying.
“A lot of people died during that war,” Jessica said in a sad voice. “For many, the death of the General is not sufficient retribution for decades of war and millions of loved ones lost. They feel that the Kryptids got off easy in the end. I’m not saying that the crew aboard this ship is part of those people wanting to stir more trouble so that they can get the revenge they want, but their presence is suspicious.”
“I admit that it confuses me that you let the Kryptids off the hook with no real punishment, it seems,” I said carefully. “In light of what they have done to my parents and the past twenty years the Creckels and I spent suffering and starving, imprisoned in that base, I would also love to see them suffer in almost equal measure, if not greater. I know it’s bad to wish ill on others, but there should be repercussions for evil doing.”
“Yes, there should be,” Reaper conceded. “However, the Kryptid population was as much a victim as the Coalition planets. The General misled them, lied to them, and manipulated them until he had acquired so much power that he couldn’t be unseated. By the time they realized his treachery, it was already too late. Also, remember that they have a hive mind, and an extremely structured hierarchy that they are genetically bound to obey. The only time they can revolt against their General or their Queen is when the survival of the hive is gravely endangered. And that was the case in the end.”
“On many planets, the civilians have little knowledge and often little say in the decisions that their leaders take when it comes to military engagement,” Madeline said. “The Kryptids didn’t want a war; they never did. They simply asked the General to find them a primitive or uninhabited planet that they could colonize because their own world was overpopulated. Instead, Khutu pretended thatwehad attackedhimout of malice. He then used this whole thing as an excuse to sate his personal hunger for galactic conquest. His people were victims just like the rest of us.”
I pursed my lips again, reluctant to feel any real sympathy for the bugs. My experience with them had been an endless display of cruelty. Granted, I only ever met the Soldiers. Maybe the population was indeed nicer, but I would never know—not that I particularly cared.
Doom coming back out of the ship put an end to my musings. We turned to look at him with undisguised curiosity.
“They apparently also received our communication requesting help,” Doom said with a frown. “Since they weren’t too far out, they decided to come assist us as they could get here faster.”
“What were they doing in the region?” Reklig asked suspiciously.
“They were assigned the base of Lereja, at the frontier of the Kryptid space,” Doom said. “They found nothing but ruins in the base they investigated. Rather than turning back empty-handed, they figured they’d come help here.”
“Hmmm,” Reaper harrumphed. “They should have confirmed with their Division Leader before taking it upon themselves to change course. I don’t mind the help, especially carving all that meat. However, there’s a chain of command for a reason.”
“I’ve told them as much, but they said it had been approved,” Doom said. “Giles Dalton is their Division Leader. He confirmed.”
“Alrighty then,” Reaper said, getting back to work.
Less than an hour later, a rather imposing Coalition transport vessel made its approach, landing at what my companions claimed to be a safe distance. However, to me, it felt much too close for comfort. To my relief, their arrival didn’t bring back more Zebiers. That said, Thanh had reassured me that, had that been the case, she would have been able to scare them away with the broadcast system being repaired.
While we continued to work, Doom went to greet the newcomers. I watched with a great deal of fascination as four human males disembarked the vessel. I had expected a much bigger crew for such a large ship. Then again, maybe the others had remained inside. It struck me once more how out of my depths I was when it came to social interactions. I didn’t know the proper protocol under such circumstances. Thankfully, I could take my lead from the others.
The men seemed to be around my age, except for one of them—who I presumed to be their leader—who appeared to be in his mid to late forties. They were clean, dressed in a uniform different from the Vanguard’s—and nowhere near as cool looking. Grayish in color, with a black belt, lots of big pockets in the pants tucked into a big pair of boots, they reminded me of images of human soldiers my mother had shown me.
To my shame, I couldn’t help but compare them to my male companions and find them lacking. It was quite unfair considering Doom, Reaper, and Reklig had all been genetically enhanced while the humans were not. Nonetheless, I found them scrawny standing next to the tall and broad-shouldered leader of my rescue team.
From where we sat, we couldn’t hear their conversation, but the exchange appeared to be cordial as Doom shook hands with their leader and then nodded in greeting at the other three men standing a few steps behind. He spent a few moments talking to them before gesturing at us and then at the base’s entrance. They nodded a few times, their heads often turning in our general direction. Sadly, my vision was too blurry over such a long distance to be able to see what they were staring at.
They finally came our way. My companions made no mystery of their undisguised curiosity. Reaper stood up when they approached. I almost imitated him but then decided not to when everyone else remained seated. As Doom’s right hand on this mission, I assumed this was why he had stood up but not the others.
Doom proceeded with the introductions. Reaper shook hands with Martin, the leader. With his dark brown hair cut short, thick, furry brows, and a well-trimmed beard, he exuded an undeniable aura of authority. Reaper then nodded at the other three, Rickon, Jasper, and Terrence. Rickon was almost as skinny as me, with arms that seemed too long for his body. His blond hair, held in a ponytail, almost made him look feminine from the back. Although he didn’t twitch, the word nervous came to mind when I looked at him.
Jasper had quite the impressive nose. That’s all I could seem to look at. His small mouth and beady eyes made his bulbous nose stand out all the more in his round face. He was a big guy, not fat, but stocky. Terrence made me uneasy. He was pretty, but I didn’t like the way he never made eye contact with anyone, even when being introduced to everyone. He felt shifty.
The rest of us all nodded, some mumbling greetings as Doom presented them to us.