by Dennis Young
Rashim looked around the room again. “Put your enemies at ease, show them hospitality and manners. It disarms them and gives them pause, if they have any decency at all.”
“And then?”
Rashim smiled. “Continue to do so until you have defeated your enemy completely without harming anyone. Only then can you claim true victory.”
Trachenberg stared at the Nelphian officer for moments, then poured mint-scented tea from a pitcher and drank in silence. She sat lost in thought. Rashim began to speak, but she held a hand for quiet. They remained still while the shadows beyond the window lengthened.
At last she poured their cups full again and asked, “Are you familiar with the legend of Sun Tzu?”
Rashim only smiled again.
“He was a Chinese general, military strategist, and philosopher, living nearly two thousand years ago. On Earth. In many cultures, he’s considered the greatest who ever lived, and taught strategies still studied today at the Academy.”
“I am aware. On Nelphia, many consider him to be one of the architects of our enlightenment.”
Trachenberg grinned. “Now that’s interesting. A pacifist society learning how to avoid war by studying the greatest general of all time on Earth.”
“Of course. How else would one become pacifist if he does not understand how war works? Sun Tzu has said ‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting’.”
Trachenberg nodded after a moment. “I think it’s what the Harmonians are doing. We should ask Elder-Third Clovis when he returns for discussions.”
Rashim poured their cups full again. “I am reminded of a quote from a famous starship captain to a young officer regarding a request for sensitive information.”
Trachenberg shook her head. “Excuse me?”
“His reply to her question was in the best Sun Tzu tradition: ‘You may ask’.”
After a long moment, Trachenberg laughed and raised her cup to Rashim.
* * *
The meeting with Clovis was brief and yielded little real information. The Earth Alliance officers were told the negotiations would continue during the following day and they were to be present only as observers.
Strict protocols were to be obeyed; they were not to speak unless spoken to by either Elder-First Carmichael or his immediate subordinate, Elder-Second Beatrice. No recording devices of any kind were allowed, not even note-taking on a PADD or with pen and paper. Any decisions rendered were final and could not be challenged by Earth Alliance, as the agreements were strictly between the government of Harmony and the Qoearc.
“Then what exactly is our purpose here?” asked Trachenberg, more than a little miffed by the air of pompousness presented. “How can Earth Alliance assist you if we cannot contribute to the discussion?”
Clovis only smiled. “Your contribution is very important. It is necessary the Qoearc understand that you, as representatives of Earth Alliance, side with Harmony. That is enough. You are not arbiters, but allies in this struggle.”
“If I may,” said Rashim softly, “I believe the intent is to settle the matter as peacefully as possible, retain what must be saved, and send the Qoearc home thinking they have won a great victory. Is this correct?”
Clovis gave a glowing smile. “Of course. How else might we survive?”
“On Nelphia we embrace many of the same precepts. There is no need for fighting if fighting is shown to be more destructive to those wishing to fight. Even in cultures where war is thought honorable, somewhere in the mind, death is feared and unwanted. There lies the key to true victory.”
Trachenberg said nothing. But in her thoughts, she could only pray Rashim was correct. She had never known such temperament so closely and personally.
“Excellent,” replied Clovis. “Then I shall call for you at sunrise and, with a bit of fortune, we will finish this matter tomorrow. Good evening.”
The door closed quietly. Trachenberg stood in contemplation, regarding Rashim with a quiet eye.
“Yes, Commander?”
She shook her head slowly. “I thought we were coming here to force the Qoearc to leave or fight. Now I see all we’re to do is offer silent support. It’s a different situation, and honestly, not one I’m familiar with.” She looked him in the eye. “Help me understand if you will, Lieutenant. I’m a bit lost.”
“Is that an order, Commander?”
“Not at all. It’s a request from one who seeks knowledge. We can all learn something new each day, and I’ve prided myself on being a quick student.”
Rashim nodded. “Very well. Let us sit in the cool of the evening and discuss. I think you may find our methods not to be as different as you may think.”
* * *
The council chambers in the central government house were little more elaborate than their suite of rooms had been. Trachenberg remarked privately to Rashim it seemed the decorators were allowed only a certain level of embellishment, all very understated, nearly austere, then no more.
The buildings themselves, however, were more elaborate, with what Clovis called “classical architecture”, from Earth’s continent of Europe primarily, since the original colonists had come mostly from that region. Fluted columns and lintels bearing friezes of early settlers’ historic moments, a hallway decorated in paintings and lined with busts of important statespersons of Harmony’s past, it all looked like something from a vid or an ancient book.
Clothing was minimalistic as well. Simple tunics in mostly muted colors, with a few of a bolder blue or green, but all cool colors, or tones of nature. No bright reds or yellows, and she noted even her Earth Alliance gold command collar, peeking out from beneath her dark duty jacket, drew more than one or two looks from passers-by. She could only imagine what the Harmonians thought of Rashim’s bright crimson undertunic.
Trachenberg found it all fascinating, and wished to ask about nearly everything she saw, but knew this was neither the time nor place. They were not on R&R, but a world-saving mission. At least she hoped that’s how it would conclude.
They entered the council chamber and were shown seats to the right of the Harmony contingent, the Qoearc opposite Elder-First Carmichael and his entourage.
Trachenberg was startled to see how small of stature the Qoearc were in real life. Having never been in the presence of that species before, she marveled at their appearance. Nearly reptilian, no more than two meters tall at most, with scales shifting in color from red to blue to green, she studied them carefully. Their speech was high-pitched, nearly above human hearing, filled with snaps and chirps. Some of the exchanges between Qoearc were actually painful to human ears. She wondered if they were aware of the effect it had.
They didn’t sit; rather, they stood, or relaxed on their haunches, much as a dog might. With a meter of tail, sitting in the offered chairs would have been uncomfortable, if not impossible.
A translator device dominated the middle of the table. Trachenberg hoped it would be sufficiently accurate in its interpretation of what was said, giving not only literal meaning, but inflection and intent. Privately, she was worried sick, and hoped the meeting would not escalate into argument. Or worse.
She scanned the room briefly; only three paintings on the walls, a few standing vases with flowers and greens, and the negotiating tables. Nothing to distract those present from the seriousness of the happenings. She found herself approving.
Beatrice, the Elder-Second, sat to Carmichael’s right, Clovis on the left, and a brace of clerks and other minor functionaries arrayed behind them at almost school-like individual chairs. The translator was activated, formalities were exchanged quickly, and only moments after their arrival, the negotiations began in earnest.
“Zacan Yiikor, we have yet to hear your acceptance of our terms,” said Carmichael.
Yiikor was imposing, regardless his stature. Teeth that looked straight out of a horror vid, and hands with talon-like claws, he hissed and spat his reply. Trachenberg noted, however, Yiikor was ha
ving difficulty maintaining his air of superiority under the intense eyes of Carmichael. He answered with nearly inaudible snaps and barks.
The translator spoke. “It is not my place to say, but I shall tell you what I think,” he replied. “We came here on a mission—”
Carmichael cut him off. “Yes, yes, you have fallen back on this repeatedly. You came to take over our world, not to negotiate, I understand. Now you find yourselves in negotiations, not only for a settlement of the situation, but whether or not you will even be allowed to leave our system.”
Trachenberg perked up instantly and shot a quick glance to Rashim. The Comm Officer was also listening carefully. This was obviously not what either had expected.
“We must report to the High Council”, Yiikor continued. “Only they can decide agreements and treaties. It is not in my prevue as Zacan of Beauzic to do so.” Yiikor motioned to the Earth Alliance officers. “Now you bring others to the table in your support. Or do they speak as well against the Empire? If so—”
“Enough of this,” said Carmichael quickly. “Earthfleet is here as observing representatives of the United Earth Alliance. They are disinterested in any agreement between Harmony and yourselves.” Carmichael looked pointedly to Trachenberg. “Correct, Commander?”
Trachenberg opened her mouth, then closed it slowly. “Correct, Elder-First,” she finally said, though it took all her composure to do so.
“Therefore, Earth Alliance has no say, no quarrel with our discussion. Again, if you cannot agree to any arrangement, how are we to proceed? Or do you simply wish to return to your High Council with nothing?”
Trachenberg caught Rashim’s near-smile from the corner of her eye. She wondered how he could keep from bursting out laughing. In mere moments, they had witnessed Carmichael disassemble Yiikor’s mission and claim, threatening to have him return to his superiors emptyhanded. Something the High Council would likely execute Yiikor in dishonor for, if she knew anything about how the Qoearc treated failure.
Yiikor continued to have problems with his composure. The two flanking Qoearc, surely his executive and security officers, were struggling mightily with theirs as well. Trachenberg knew, had this been a typical Qoearc parley, weapons would have already been drawn, discharged, and holstered, with nothing left of the losers but body parts.
“How can we agree to becoming your ka’na’yec? You offer nothing!” Yiikor nearly rose from his haunches, but a hand from the officer on his right held him down.
“Nonsense,” replied Carmichael firmly. “You came here seeking resources, yes? And we offer them, asking only in return you work for us in payment. Whatever you mine from our asteroid field…” He paused to confer with one of the clerks for a moment. “Yes, one million metric tonnes per year of materials, plus the equal amount of gasses from our outermost planet, will be provided to our industries in similar quantity. This is more than fair.”
“This is madness!” barked Yiikor. “We become the rulers here, not you!”
“On the contrary,” said Carmichael, his voice still measured. “You came seeking victory. Is this not as you wished?”
“Yet…” Yiikor’s scales flashed red, the color rippling from nose to tail, and both clawed hands clenched tightly on the air. “Still, I cannot agree. It is the High Council’s decision.”
“Therefore,” said Carmichael with a sigh, “we’re still where we have been the last three meetings.” He looked to Beatrice and Clovis, obviously ignoring the Earth Alliance side of the table. “I will release you to your ships and bid you farewell. If you require recordings of this meeting for your council, they will be provided.”
Yiikor barked again. “I need nothing from you.” He looked to Trachenberg and Rashim, still seated. “But I would speak with these regarding our Zacan Toks and Diviak Nurmeen.”
Trachenberg’s heart skipped a beat. Well, I thought for a pleasant moment we might all live through this. Apparently not.
Carmichael considered, then motioned to several of his staff. They exchanged words too quiet for Trachenberg to hear, then the Elder-First turned to the table again. “Elder-Third Clovis will escort you to a private room where you may discuss this matter briefly. But I warn you, no violence will be tolerated. Do I have your word of honor? All of you?” He handed a portable translator to Trachenberg.
“You do, Elder-First,” said Trachenberg quickly, before the Qoearc could answer.
Yiikor gave her a hard stare, then turned his eyes to Carmichael. “No violence. It is pledged.”
* * *
The door closed. Yiikor turned quickly on Trachenberg, but she was ready. She knew his initial thought would be to dominate her, first because she was Earth Alliance, second because she was female. She knew Qoearc females were semi-intelligent at best, and even though she had sat at the negotiation table, expected Yiikor to attempt dominance.
He nearly crouched as he approached, his tail swishing side to side, balancing his pace. Rashim tensed as the Qoearc stalked toward her. Trachenberg didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, and Yiikor had to force himself to stop short, obviously having thought she would back away.
Trachenberg activated the translator.
Yiikor literally growled low in his throat, nearly a laugh. “I see you are not afraid. Good. It will make my defeat of you the more satisfying.”
“No violence,” said Rashim softly, but in a warning tone. “You gave your word of honor.”
Yiikor bared teeth at the Nelphian. Trachenberg stepped to one side, still facing all three Qoearc. She knew, if it came to a fight, she and Rashim were no match. “You have questions, Zacan Yiikor? Cease the posturing and ask away. I’ll tell you the truth.”
Yiikor’s officers growled now, assuming an insult that wasn’t really there.
But it gives them something to do besides appear clueless, thought Trachenberg. Besides, they already suspect the answer and know there is nothing they can do about it here.
Yiikor paced away, then turned again. “Where is Zacan Toks? Where is Diviak Nurmeen?”
Trachenberg glanced to Rashim, then back. “Diviak Nurmeen is gone where all Qoearc ships go that bite off more than they can chew. Zacan Toks… has gone to the bak’nal. His last words to me confirmed that was his wish.”
If Yiikor didn’t understand the first idiom, he certainly knew the second. He roared, took Trachenberg by the throat and slammed her against the wall. Rashim was on him in seconds as Trachenberg kicked out into the Qoearc’s knee. Yiikor buckled as Trachenberg backed away before the others could even react. He stood with obvious pain, scales rippling and flashing red with heat.
“Zacan, no! We have given our word!”
Trachenberg massaged her neck, waving away a hand from Rashim. Blood trickled beneath her collar.
“Who did this! I will tear his liver out with my bare hands and devour it!” Yiikor advanced once more, but didn’t attack.
Trachenberg stood as straight as she could, her healing arm tingling with pins and needles. Her voice was raspy. “My ship, Armstrong, defeated Diviak Nurmeen in open space honorable combat. Diviak Nurmeen was the most valiant opponent I’ve ever faced, and I’ve faced many.”
“You!?”
“Yes, me, and my command. I give you my word of honor, this is the truth.”
“You have no honor!”
Trachenberg closed on Yiikor, dug her fingers into his scales, and pulled his face down to her level. “Say that again and you will find out how much honor I have.”
“Zacan, this must be set aside. We have given—”
Yiikor shook himself loose from Trachenberg’s grip. “Silence!” He stalked away, limping, then turned again. “Where? I demand proof!”
Trachenberg nodded. “When we return to our ships, I will provide the coordinates, so you may investigate yourselves.”
Yiikor smirked. “You think yourself clever, yes? We will see how you beg when we meet in, as you say, honorable combat.”
“Your chance will come,
I’m certain,” she replied. “First, we must extricate ourselves from this situation. You have information to covey to your High Command. I have reports of my own to make. Let us not speak of battle when there are more important matters at hand.”
“What is more important than battle?” Yiikor growled again.
“Victory,” said Rashim, and the Qoearc looked at him, baring teeth. “If you go before your superiors and say, ‘we have won resources we sorely need’, that is victory. Diviak Nurmeen is gone. Commander Trachenberg’s ship suffered damage and losses. Honor has been satisfied. You carry victory as it comes, and some part of victory is better than none.”
“Who are you?” asked one of Yiikor’s officers.
Rashim thought for a moment. “I am the… Understanding and Explaining Officer. I seek to find ways between the words, and satisfaction for all.”
Trachenberg smiled to herself at Rashim’s clever words.
Yiikor found his control and faced the commander again. “What is it you want? How do I keep my honor with the High Command over this…disgrace?”
Trachenberg thought for a moment, then nodded to Rashim to continue. The Comm Officer said, “Explain what you have heard. The Harmonians have offered tribute, resources in exchange only for keeping what is already theirs. It costs you little in labor, and provides stability for your mission.”
Yiikor exchanged glances with his officers, and they conferred briefly in their language, away from the translator. He turned again to Rashim, whom he was obviously more confident speaking to than Trachenberg. “Will your government accept this? How will you explain the losses of this system to them?”
Trachenberg spoke before Rashim could reply. “As said by Elder-First Carmichael, the agreement is strictly between Harmony and yourselves. The Earth Alliance does not control this government, regardless what Qoearc may think. There is no dishonor in working for the good of all.”
Yiikor turned away, his tail nearly erect in agitation, and looked again to his officers for sign of disapproval. At last he faced Trachenberg again. “Very well. We will finalize this tomorrow. But I insist you attend. The Empire will not agree to anything without the Earth Alliance being witness to it. I do not trust these people! They talk in circles.”