Emissary

Stel sat in the cockpit of the mech, the "Emissary," and cupped her face in her hands. She was drenched in sweat, her legs were shaking, and she could only hear a piercing ringing in her ears. She was exhausted.

The hatch behind her opened and fresh light and air poured in, the acrid smell of burning metal stinging her nose.

"C'mon, kid. Time to get out of there."

The now-familiar voice of the mech pilot who'd flown with her throughout the defending battle of the colony came from behind but Stel couldn't bring herself to move. Footsteps on metal sounded out and a couple pairs of hands lightly gripped under her arms and hoisted her from the seat. As they carried her out, Stel felt a wave of remorse wash over her as she left the Emissary's pilot seat. For the first time in her life, she had mattered to someone. The whole colony, in fact.

She and the other mech pilot, whom had finally identified himself as "Jordi," had battled for hours on end, answering distress calls and moving to meet incoming attackers. The freighter pilot had managed to keep with them throughout the battle but Jordi had forced him to land after the battle was over.

Stel was reeling from the horrors of the conflict. They had seen numerous colony defenders die in front of them or heard their last stands over the communicator. The assault had been a bloodbath, aimed more at destruction than actual conquest.

Stel felt herself begin to wake as the two men that carried her from the cockpit and were now assisting her in her unconscious walking brought her from the hangar she had been directed to land the Emissary in and into an air conditioned room. The burning smell was gone but she still smelled of sweat. Jordi and the other man didn't smell much better and they looked far more tired than they smelled.

Stel finally looked around at the room she had been brought to. Dark as a consequence of the coloring, she was surrounded by rows and rows of chairs but most prominently was a semicircle of ornate chairs, each uniquely decorated and colored. She thought they made for decent representations of famous mech suits, based on their design and colors. As she looked closely at a few of the occupants and realized who they were, Stel realized the chairs were intended to be representations.

Seven of the eleven seats were filled and each of the people sitting in them were some of the founding members of the colony, famous war heroes and legendary mech pilots. Stel felt a little anger swell but she choked it down.

"Pilot Jordi, pilot Crans. Thank you for bringing this... individual with you." A weathered old fennec sitting in the far-most right seat said, waving at the front row of chairs in the auditorium seating.

Once seated, the same fennec spoke again, "Tribunal in session. We have much to discuss-"

"There is no discussion!" An older human in the semicircle bellowed, "The Nalesh'ka are back, and they haven't changed a bit! They only seek blood. Ours was spilled, will we let them slaughter us so freely?"

A female in the group with white hair spoke, "We do not know for certain they are back, these may be stragglers. Survivors. We know some hives were never fully destroyed."

A wave of grumbling swept through the chamber, Stel felt very small amongst the room as she was still flanked on either side by these pilot suit-wearing pilots, each one considerably taller and fitter than her. She wanted to ask them so many questions, but decided against it.

"The fact is, they struck at us. Their fleet pulled back but sensor sweeps from our scout ships revealed they never left the system. They'll come back once their invasion force is reconstituted."

"And if they don't have the facilities to make more ships here, on their own? Should we not just aggress on them? Chase them, destroy them? Remind them who we are. I know we did it once, we can kill them again."

Stel watched the various members of the founder's council speak. But she felt a nagging in the back of her mind. Something about their tones and attitude felt off. This felt like personal vengeance to her, not defense of the colony.

The elderly fennec spoke again, "And what of the Conglomerate? Do they know that our shared enemy lives?"

The old woman shook her head. "We have received no reply from our distress calls. Old Earth is not far from us, all things considered, they should have been able to answer but we have received no communications. Other attempts to reach Conglomerate communication stations have similarly failed."

Murmurs rose in the chamber and Stel felt a forboding sense wash through the pilots around her as they shuffled uncomfortably.

Beside her, Jordi spoke up, "So... we are on our own?"

A long, pained pause choked the room as his question hung there. Everyone knew the answer, nobody wanted to say it.

The old fennec leaned forward in his seat. "That seems to be the case, yes. Perhaps we best discuss our condition, then. As many of you can see, four founder's seats are empty. In the fighting, several of our legends were killed in their homes. We mourn their loss, but we must fight on in their memory, not die in their falling. To that end, we will be accelerating piloting academies as more pilots are needed to reinforce our losses." He stood and walked towards Stel, "This one, however, is a different case. State your name, human."

Stel looked at the weathered fennec and his graying snout, drooping ears, and limp tail. "Stel. Sir."

He nodded slowly. "Human Stel, you are under arrest for the theft and operation of a mech suit without license or approval, and will be detained indefinitely, pending an investigation of your involvement in Pilot Keltillierre's death."

Stel felt her heart wrench and head spin. Murmurs of approval whispered around her as the fennec stepped back towards his seat. "Officer?" He gestured to a badge-wearing man who then approached Stel and slapped a pair of mag-cuffs on her wrists.

Stel felt clarity rush into her as they locked her wrists together. "Y-you can't be serious! I saved this colony! I helped defend it! A-and this is how you repay me? I-I..."

The room was deadly silent as eyes turned to her. The fennec glared at her. "Human. We have no guarantees to the cause of the fate of the Emissary's pilot. And laws are laws, we cannot suspend them for you alone. Now be silent, or we shall alter the terms of your detainment."

Stel managed to bite her tongue, but she didn't like this one bit. Nobody seemed to disagree with him, and that frightened her.

"Now, we must see to the defense of the colony‐"

"And the warning of the Conglomerate." The old woman cut in. "We cannot survive alone, we must reach out for allies. Our combat strength is not what it was, old friend."

Another older human on the council grumbled and spoke up, "We seemingly have no long-distance communications. They aren't coming to trade as our warp gate was destroyed in the battle. We don't have the resources to repair it quickly or safely. What if the repair crews were attacked? Could we truly defend them?"

"Then we send someone to go and warn them. Summon help." She answered.

"Send who? A scout? What if they were stopped. And none of our scout ships are equipped with long-distance slip drives. We'd need a bigger ship, but they were all destroyed or damaged!"

Another middle aged woman spoke up, "And if there are more Nalesh? What if our messenger is caught? They would be torn in half-"

Stel watched as the council and many of the spectators began to shout, arguing. None of this was helpful. She looked at Jordi who was refusing to look at her. The other pilot, Crans, seemed to be avoiding her also. This was her shot.

Standing up and stepping in front of the semicircle, Stel began to shout, "I'll go!" It took several repititions until the chamber fell into silence, all eyes on her as the officer walked up to grab her arm.

A wave of a hand stalled the officer as the elderly fennec leaned forward. "You? You would volunteer to go and warn the Conglomerate? Summon aid? And how will you get there? Walking?" He scoffed.

"I'll take her!" A voice called out from near the back of the room.

Eyes turned upwards to watch a male fennec stand up and walk down the center aisle of the chamber, his ears proudly up and tail swaying behind him.

The council seemed disgusted by his presence. "Deserter. I have half a mind to have you shot, Ryn." The old fennec growled.

"Mom would have loved that, Rieeckan, if she had survived. I'll take the kid and get her to Old Earth. It's the one spot we're sure to find Conglomerate-friendly fighters. Last I heard, they still hate the Nalesh'ka too."

Murmurs began to sweep through the crowd again and Stel turned to face the younger fennec. He looked at her intently and seemed to ignore everyone else.

"I'll take her and her mech, too. We'll need a defender, she can pull double duty."

"Absolutely not! You're insane, and I think I will have you shot!" Rieeckan barked, stepping closer to Stel.

Ryn leveled his eyes at Rieeckan, "This is the colony you're risking, old fool. You aren't offering to go, so let me take her and the mech. It's imprinting on her anyway, you saw it by the end of the battle. Oh, wait, that's right, you weren't in the battle at all."

The two fox men stared one another down and Rieeckan growled softly as he backed down. "Fine. Take them. Go and get help, then never come back."

Ryn stepped in beside Stel and grabbed her hand-cuffed wrist as he glared at the old fennec, "Won't be a problem. I'm doing this just so you'll let me leave. I was next on your chopping block, I won't give you another shot."

The mag-cuffs fell to the floor and startled Stel. The officer hadn't unlocked them but Ryn didn't seem surprised. She saw him slip a device into his sleeve and tug on her arm.

"Come on, human, we've got work to do."