— 9 —

Commissioner Sobel’s shuttle touched down on the Détente Asteroid’s shared landing field, as had been previously arranged. It felt strange to be here at the same time as his Jaxxan counterpart. Uneasy, Sobel glanced behind him at the five specially chosen soldiers who rode in the shuttle—not as an honor guard, but as candidates for the unorthodox mission Kiltik had proposed.

It had taken Sobel some time to realize that the Jaxxan Warlord was serious; the idea proved that the alien military leader was in fact alien. Sobel would never have suggested such an insane approach, and yet …

A joint team composed of both human and Jaxxan soldiers to hunt down and eliminate the two deserters as swiftly as possible? If it was a trick, then Sobel would lose five good fighters … but he had already lost almost three times that many in his solo efforts to control the situation. He decided to risk it. This mess had to be cleaned up, swept under the rug, and the fewer people outside of Fixion who knew about it, the better.

Deathguards were the best fighters in the Earth League, although not necessarily stable or controllable, as Rader had proved. His hand-picked soldiers were specialists in their own right; Kiltik had chosen similarly talented Jaxxan hunters.

His five specialists crouched on the benches, anxiously shifting their laser rifles from hand to hand. The Commissioner had given them strict instructions not to open fire on Warlord Kiltik or any other Jaxxans when they disembarked on the Détente Asteroid. That would ignite a powderkeg, and Sobel did not want to deal with the resulting paperwork.

As the door split open and the disembarkation ramp extended, the men jumped out and stood protectively beside their Commissioner. A line of warrior caste Jaxxans greeted them, and the two groups faced each other, as if daring someone to break the agreement.

Sobel said to his team with a scowl, “Enough posturing. We’ve got work to do.”

An alien, obviously the Warlord, walked across the landing field, sliding through the line of stiff Jaxxans. Sobel actually recognized Kiltik after only two viewscreen conversations, picking out distinctive features on the alien face.

Kiltik bowed his head, bending his stalk of neck. “Commissioner Sobel?”

“Good to meet you in person, Warlord!” He reached out to shake Kiltik’s brittle hand, but the Jaxxans reacted as if it were a hostile gesture. The air thrummed with building energy-webs, and the human specialists brought their laser rifles to bear.

But the Commissioner knocked the nearest soldier’s rifle aside. “That’s a friendly gesture among my people, Warlord. We’re not here to kill each other now.”

Kiltik stood silent, as if reading Sobel’s emotions. “I sense hostility in you, but it is not directed at us. For the moment.”

Sobel nodded. “I’m glad your empathic ability can break the ice.”

The Warlord fought back a spasm of coughing. “Please pardon my cough—it comes from breathing this thin, dry air for years.”

“No problem at all.” The Commissioner gestured for his five specialists to follow him toward the normally empty embassy buildings. “Is the conference room ready? We’ve got important things to do.”