'You didn't say it out loud as such,' the Krreeva said, looking up at him with its rather unnerving golden eyes. 'Although it was rather audible,' it added to itself, and seemed to cock its head and wait for a moment before continuing. 'I know you're worried about your friend.' It cocked its head again. Omad could see that gesture becoming unsettling, 'not that I intend to give it that much time' he thought emphatically. 'Much more unsettling is the fact that you're talking to me at all. And please let's move away from this doorway…' The Krreeva turned and nochalantly strolled up the ramp of the Honey. 'Hey!' Omad half-shouted before he realised how odd it would look, to be shouting at the little creature. He followed it meekly into his ship. It seemed he didn't have a lot else to do and it definitely knew something about Sumatra. Sumatra… Omad sighed. That furious scream was uppermost in his thoughts but the oppressive calmness of the street outside the bay made him feel defeated before he had even started fighting. 'And she knew something was wrong here.'
'I wouldn't worry about it,' the Krreeva purred. 'You're here now: that's the main thing.' Omad glared at it. 'Look, I don't know what's going on here and I don't have time to work it out, so could you please just explain who you are and why you're here or go, and I can get back to finding my friend.' He spat the last word out; this bloody Krree-thing was beginning to piss him off.
'Krreeval,' it corrected, almost absently. Its little head was tilted to one side and it paused a moment before speaking again.
'We are the Krreval, the native species of Halian.'
'Yes,' Omad hissed through gritted teeth, 'you said.' The Krreeva ignored him.
'We are the only sentient species native to the planet and were developing well along the usual pattern until about 50 years before the Clone Wars. At that point we were developing mechanisation. Unfortunately for us, a group of human religious dissidents landed on our planet intending to make it their new homeworld. At that point we did not fight because we knew we could not win. They are the human rulers of this world you see today. We have waited for our time to reclaim our world ever since and we belive that it is very near.' Omad was preparing to speak again and the Krreeva forestalled his question: 'We are also telepathic.'
He scowled at it. 'So you've been reading my mind?'
'Well you haven't been putting any kind of damper on your emotions; in fact you've been broadcasting like a loudspeaker. And, Mr Zippah, I do not think this state of anger that you are in is helpful to either of us or conducive to our conversation.'
'You know my real…? Oh, mindreading. That bloody well explains everything!' Omad was not making a noticeable effort to control his anger. The Krrreeva climbed onto the table between them and looked intensely at him. Omad noticed a set of long sharp claws emerging from its paws. 'Do you want our help or do you not?' it demanded. 'Because we are beginning to lose patience with you, Mr Zippah, and I need hardly remind you that …Sumatra is it?…is in considerable danger. So will you please just sit back and listen to what I have to tell you. We are trying to help you,' it added in a softer voice. Omad muttered under his breath, but this did seem like the best of his options now and anger was not an emotion he was able to maintain for very long. He settled in his chair and the Krreeva retracted its claws.
'As I said, we are telepathic. We are in near-constant contact with others of our race and we are able to communicate with humans and several other species as well. Not that many non-humans come here.' Omad was listening intently now; here was the crucial information. 'The human rulers of this planet are fiercly xenophobic and are all devoted followers of a religion that enshrines this prejudice. Humans who are not of their religon are tolerated but not allowed to settle unless they convert. Non-humans however are imprisoned for a ritual period of a month and then executed.'
'Executed?' Omad echoed. The bottom seemed to fall out of his stomach. 'Oh gods, Sumatra…'
'Is now in a secure prison counting down 26 days until she is beheaded at dawn and her body burned on the trance-bonfire.' Stunned and horrified, Omad felt almost helpless, crushed under this spine-chilling news. 'I know it's hard to bear the news of a friend's doom,' the Krreeva said softly. 'We have decided to help you both, in return for your help with our uprising.
'Your wha..? You expect us to help you start a civil war?'
'Not just start,' it said matter-of-factly, 'fight and win too.'
Fight an…uh-huh.' Omad saw no point in hiding his scepticism if the creature could read his mind anyway. He looked at it 'I suppose I have no choice if I want to save Sumatra?' he asked. The Krreeva gently shook its head. 'This is a kind of business arrangement Mr Zippah. You need our help and we need yours. In the end we shall both be satisfied. Don't worry,' it added, 'we don't expect it to be a long war.'
'A long wa…' Omad gave up. As the Krreeva said, it was business. And what is a smuggler but a businessman in a pirate hat?
'All right, my friend. What now?'
A/N: Wow, I seem to be taking ages to develop the plot. It is coming, honest! And I thank you Yaebginn for being my only reviewer. You are obviously a discerning reader (!)
Purple