This novel provided me with the opportunity to examine human society and the crazy way we have been behaving. Questions we have to ask ourselves are whether violence, greed and lust for power are embedded in our DNA or learnt behaviour. Can we become civilised or must we always have Trumps, war and Musks?
Chapter 2 continued:
Chameakegra reread the judge’s mail with mixed emotions as her initial elation receded. She was retained. She still had a role. She could oversee the operation. That was the best news, particularly as she knew it would not sit well with Beheggakegri. She allowed herself a chuckle.
But a joint command? Could that work? She found it hard at the best of times to work with others. Graffa would attest to that. Her second‑in‑command was the most even‑tempered Minorian in existence, yet even he had found it nigh impossible at times to work with her. She knew it. That posed the question: could she work with another commander on a joint project — particularly one in which she had been so deeply involved and fully responsible? What if they did not agree? Who took control? Did either have a veto? She had severe reservations. Even so, a blue wave of satisfaction flowed across her scutes. She was staying on Hydra. That could not be bad.
Then she thought about her crew, the ones who had chosen to remain. She was exhausted, and she knew they were too. The extended assessment had drained them all. She was buoyed by emotional involvement, but what about them? Could they summon the energy and enthusiasm required? Many had families and commitments. They had already given far more than intended. The expedition was far longer than planned, and they were psychologically prepared for return. The news they were staying on for another indeterminate period had gone down like a greffotum’s bum. Could they pick themselves up to do a good job? She thought not. That needed addressing.
Judge Booghramakegra, I am delighted to assume a joint leadership role in this venture and am sure my knowledge will be of use. However, my crew are exhausted. Many have chosen to stay on out of loyalty. However, they have been away from home for an extended period due to the burden of the added assessment. I would suggest we arrange a shuttle to send home all those who wish to return and replenish the crew. — Commander Chameakegra
Chameakegra pasted Beheggakegri into the exchange but refrained from informing the crew until she heard back. There was no need to unsettle them. Graffa was the only one she took into her confidence. They discussed the situation at length. He too was torn. His larvae were nearing metamorphosis back on Gestor, and she knew he wanted to be with his partner for that enormously important transition. Yet he wanted to stay.
Two messages arrived in quick succession:
That sounds like a sound proposition. I will inform the Head of UFOR that you will assume joint leadership on the execution of the project and I will ask him to arrange replacements for the crew who wish to return. — Judge Booghramakegra
This is preposterous. We cannot have two commanders on a mission like this. We require clear leadership. — Beheggakegri, UFOR
Chameakegra regarded the two messages with satisfaction. In matters such as these the Judge held sway. This was a fait accompli. A wave of blue satisfaction ran over her scutes at the thought of how irate this must have made Beheggakegri, but it quickly faded to green and yellow as she considered the implications of upsetting him further. He was a powerful enemy. There was no telling what trouble he could cause.
Her claws clicked across the comulator:
I am pleased to assume joint command and look forward to working with the Commander the Head of UFOR appoints. I am certain we can bring it to a suitable conclusion. — Commander Chameakegra
She pasted Beheggakegri into her reply, then set her mind to informing the crew of the changes in plans and providing them with options. She urged them to take up the offer of leave to be with their families, thanked them for a job well done, and wished them well.
Another thought occurred. Perhaps this was the moment to broach her other idea. She quickly rattled off another message to Judge Booghramakegra:
As the nature of Hydran minds is yet to be fully understood and the positive effects of the rehabilitation programmes have yet to be assessed, I would suggest we hold back on the extermination programme. It is possible we might rehabilitate them too.
She paused before sending. This time she refrained from pasting Beheggakegri in. She did not want him clawing into this nest of kiddgers.
Everything had been buffed to perfection. Cleaning bots had worked overtime, staff likewise. All immaculate in full dress regalia, assembled in a welcoming committee.
Commander Chameakegra presided, standing to the fore ready to greet her counterpart. In bytes the two commanders were on a par. In practice, parity would be hard to achieve. First impressions mattered.
As host on her own turf, Chameakegra was fully prepared. Her best dress uniform, usually reserved for the highest ceremonial events, accentuated her physique — a Giforian female in her prime. Extended shoulder pads broadened her frame, the low‑cut back revealed vertebral spurs, and the cut‑away front flaunted her large ventral scutes. With crest fully extended, insignia on display, and scutes flowing with iridescent sheen, she presented an impressive figure. Her forked iridescent blue tongue flicked over her scaly lips in anticipation. She was ready for Grrndakegra.
The massive H‑craft, the size of a city, emerged through the maw of hyperspace precisely to the nanosecond. Even with shields deployed, it was perfectly visible to Neff’s surveillance equipment. The vast sister ship slid close, Commander Grrndakegra’s Quorma drawing alongside so airlocks aligned — a masterclass in docking. The two monster craft dwarfed the shuttle craft lurking nearby. A sinuous connecting tunnel deployed, and within seconds they had docked.
The portal dilated. Commander Grrndakegra strode through with her entourage in tow. Once inside the Neff she halted, haughtily surveying the crew. She too cut an impressive figure, matching Chameakegra in every respect. The deep orange of authority cloaked her crest and scutes. Her eyes roved up and down Chameakegra with arrogant air.
Chameakegra thought she detected a faint tinge of mauve amusement on the Commander’s plates, as if she saw the charade as a game, as if she were above it all.
Chameakegra stepped forward to rattle talons, her eyes taking in the stern‑faced entourage of reptilian Achec and Giforian, with the odd Dref and Jerb. She began the formalities, welcoming them to the Neff, introducing her second, Graffa the Minorian amphibian, then proceeding through the department heads. She noted that the presence of mammalian Jerbs, Marlan avians, and Solarian amphibia seemed to spark more waves of mauve. It made her keenly aware that the Quorma’s denizens were predominantly reptilian. Was that chance?
With formalities complete, the Quorma crew dispersed to be entertained by their counterparts, and Chameakegra took Grrndakegra to her quarters.
Grrndakegra took a pexi without being offered and declined a beaker of synth, commandeering the servo to choose an aromatic juice instead.
Chameakegra sipped her synth and took the initiative. Alone now, the vying for position was inevitable. As host she had the upper hand. She detailed their assessment and findings on Hydra, expounding on the many creative virtues of the Hydrans. Grrndakegra sat back, perfectly relaxed, studying her intently but not engaging with the issues raised. She let Chameakegra proceed without interruption. Only when the report concluded did she deign to speak.
‘My mission is quite clear,’ Grrndakegra fixed Chameakegra with crystal green eyes. ‘I have been charged to take control of the planet. There are Hydrans allocated for extermination, others for rehabilitation. The remainder are to be reorganised into a more harmonious system. When those under rehabilitation are deemed suitable for reintroduction — or irredeemable — they will be reintroduced or exterminated. Once the planet has settled into its improved arrangement, there will be a period of embedding followed by further judgement. On that basis the Hydrans will either be granted probation before Federation entry or eradicated as pests. Isn’t that the essence of the orders we have both received?’
Chameakegra listened with mounting alarm at the emotionless exposition. Yes, it was precisely what they had been ordered to do. It followed Judge Booghramakegra’s instructions and came directly from Beheggakegri. But the way Grrndakegra presented it — as a sequence of cold facts — seemed to predict inevitable failure.
She sipped her synth and met Grrndakegra’s gaze full on, determined not to be intimidated. ‘Yes, that is what we have been instructed to do,’ she replied coolly. ‘But I have worked with these Hydrans for some time. They are highly emotional creatures. The way we approach this will determine whether we succeed or fail. Judge Booghramakegra has appointed us joint commanders and asked that the process be carried out with minimum trauma for Hydra’s inhabitants.’
Grrndakegra shrugged, scutes tinged yellow with annoyance. ‘We’ll see what Beheggakegri has to say about that.’
Chameakegra ignored the jibe. Judge Booghramakegra was in charge. Enough said.
Grrndakegra eyed her with a calculating stare, sipping her juice. She had not come all this way to play second flubert. ‘I do not view this exercise as one of success or failure,’ she remarked calmly, lounging back in her pexi. ‘Either outcome is acceptable. It is up to the Hydrans. They are either worthy of incorporation or not. If they cannot progress, they deserve eradication. That is not success or failure. That is genetics and psychology.’
‘No,’ Chameakegra protested, involuntary flashes of white crossing her scutes, ‘the way we approach this will determine how the Hydrans react.’ This was not beginning well.
Grrndakegra sipped her juice, mauve amusement more evident now. She studied Chameakegra’s emotions with detached smugness, seeing weakness. ‘I shall require a base for a rehabilitation unit,’ she stated, ignoring Chameakegra’s words. ‘My experts suggest we set up the facility within the lunar satellite. I have brought specialists to handle that.’
Chameakegra nodded, eyes fixed on the Giforian.
‘I trust you have the details of the Hydrans selected for extermination and rehabilitation. We shall need to extract them. I have the military means for that.’
‘We have the lists and the whereabouts of the individuals,’ Chameakegra reassured her. She calmly sipped her synth, scutes distinctly green. This was not going as she had hoped. She could see Beheggakegri’s claw in it, setting her up to fail. ‘I will assist in setting up the rehabilitation facilities in the lunar satellite.’ She paused to compose herself. ‘However, I have been in contact with Judge Booghramakegra. She has agreed we should pause regarding the group earmarked for extermination. They are to be afforded a stay of execution pending psychological tests. I will forward the protocols to your team. She wants a report on whether this group, despite extreme symptoms, might also be receptive to rehabilitation.’