By Other Means by Evan Currie Page A

more suspects than principals. Corporations that produce military goods would love an extended war, we see that all the time. They’re top suspects because it only takes one person to set this in motion, so even decent companies can be dragged down. Then you have random politicians who stand to make a fortune if factories in his jurisdiction get new contracts…”
    “Let’s not forget someone could be playing the same game we are,” Sorilla added, “If there’s a dissident movement in the Alliance, or any planet looking to declare independence, dragging us into a shooting war would certainly provide them with a distraction.”
    “What worries me most,” Ruger said seriously, “Is that it’s not just one faction, we could be looking at any, or all, of the above.”
    That was reason for the group to fall silent for a moment, considering that particular twist on things. The Admiral was right, though, and they all knew it. The only people they could trust right at the moment were other humans, and each of them were cynical enough to know that the only reason that was true was because no one had yet had a chance to be corrupted by the situation.
    The day of
that
particular scenario was coming, and the countdown clock for it was probably much shorter than any of them would like to admit.
    “The question is, what can we do about it?” Miram asked into the silence finally, looking around for an answer.
    The other three exchanged glances, shaking their heads.
    “Not much more than we’re already doing, Madame Ambassador,” Ruger admitted, “We continue the negotiations, we keep eyes and implants wide open and scanning, and we hope that the bulk of the Alliance is negotiating in good faith.”
    Miram grunted, looking distinctly unhappy.
    “I was afraid you were going to say that,” She said after a long moment.
     *****
    On the Alliance station a strikingly similar meeting was taking place as the Ambassador sat down with the Master of Station, his security, and Sienel.
    “So the reports were accurate. Do we know who the target was yet?”
    Kriss nodded, meeting the Ambassador’s eyes, “You were, Ambassador.”
    The Parithalian sighed, wishing he felt more surprised. He did not, however, so he had to continue playing what the game had passed to him.
    “Well, this is awkward,” He admitted wryly, “starting negotiations while owing my life to a Terran?”
    “She was acting to preserve her own detail, Ambassador,” Sienel advised with a tip of his head.
    “Yes, yes, of course. Still it is a bit humorous, don’t you think?” The Parithalian asked lightly before becoming more serious, “I presume that you’ve locked security down more?”
    “Yes, Ambassador,” Kriss nodded, “I don’t believe that this faction will be a problem in the future.”
    “This faction?”
    Kriss shrugged, “It’s quite clear that we have several different groups opposing this treaty, for wildly different reasons. Most likely at least one more will attempt something before it can be signed.”
    “The Sentinel is, sadly, correct Ambassador,” Sienel said simply, stepping into the discussion, “I expect that the most likely outcome is that the next attempt will be made as we approach the signing, however. Capturing this conspirator will make the others more cautious, I believe they will hope for a time that negotiations will break down on their own.”
    “No chance of that,” The Ambassador said simply, “Unless I very much miss my guess, the Terrans are as interested in this as we are.”
    “Yes, that was my read as well. Curious, really,” Sienel said, “They annihilated one of our fleets, left no trace… why aren’t they pressuring us harder?”
    The group considered that for a moment, but honestly they had no response.
    Sienel shrugged, looking a little depressed by the total lack of ideas, “I suppose I am expecting too much. We’re still only beginning to learn their sub-lingual communications, and without a