Between them was a simple sphere. A single ship's boat was docked to one of the ports. A drop ship emerged from the lead Katsurani battleship. It thrust on a new reaction drive and docked with the sphere. The sphere's port adjusting to the door on the ship.
The room inside was square, human design, and had nothing save a large wooden table and various seats, each designed for different races.
The door leading to the second airlock opened. Soltyn entered flanked by an aged Reggf. They sat at the table, opposite a sapien and another Reggf.
“I know you,” the ancient one said to Rigaar. “It has been long, Rigaar.”
“I do not recall you, old one.” Rigaar lifted a lip cautiously.
“I was young. But I recall you. Reegarf to us all, before the exodus.”
“We have returned,” Rigaar said.
“Things are better now, Reegarf.” The older one raised a lip. “The old ways have been purged and now my people have peace and stability.”
“Jeremy,” Rigaar spoke through his translator. “This Reggf has mental powers enabling it to sense our thoughts.”
Harrington nodded to the older one. “I am honored to meet you.” The table translated for the new Reggf. “I have heard of your art. Please know that this room will cause you intense pain if you attempt to use it.”
The old one winced in pain and then relaxed. He lifted his eyebrows, smiling.
“That is why we do not have one of you here now, old one. This species considers it an unfair advantage.”
“Let us begin,” Soltyn nodded to Harrington.
“I believed that a Saurian representative would be here in these negotiations,” he said.
“And I,” Soltyn said, “believed a Pyrinni representative would be here at these negotiations.” She smiled.
“Well,” he smiled at her, “I am glad we are sure that it is time to begin.” He pressed a button and the wooden table top changed and became a starmap, represented in two dimensions using Junta as a base. “Here,” the color changed, “is the extent of the Compendium's reaches. “Here, the color changed again,” is the line that has occupied our forces.”
“Is this where you propose to have the zone placed?” she asked.
“Yes, beginning with this star system. I propose that these stars,” the color changed, a red hue colored a row of stars, “be the dividing line between our people. Those star system within the confines of the line be available to each of us, on equal terms, for research. No military incursions into this zone.”
“How far does that zone reach?”
“Theoretically there is no end. But functionally there has to be. This cluster here, “the scene pulled back showing a computer generated image of that quarter of the galaxy, the spiral edge, colored minutely to show the infinitesimal area of control occupied by everyone. “Actually the whole thing is open to everyone to explore. Neither of us will have rights to it.”
Soltyn looked at the map. She couldn't believe how easy this was. Pyrinni discussions took days. This sapien had outlined everything so clearly and reasonably that she could see not dissention.
“How long will this last?” she asked.
“Until both parties jointly decide there is no longer a need for it. But,” he said, lowering his voice, “if any warship crosses the zone it can be construed as an act of war and restart the hostilities.”
“Understood,” she said. “We will agree to your proposal.”
Harrington and Rigaar looked stunned. They at least thought there would be a debate.
“What about an exchange of prisoners?” Rigaar asked.
“We have a few humans. They are all free to go and will be dropped off here, at Jilian IV. As per anyone else we have no prisoners.”
“What of Tai-Pan?” Rigaar said again.
“What about it, Reegarf?” the Old Reggf asked, sneering at the word, heavily emphasized by the table translator. “We are fine. Tai-Pan is now a place of learning and peace. We do not want it destroyed.”
“In my culture,” Harrington explained. “We sign a written document that has explained the terms of the agreement.”
“That is acceptable,” Soltyn said.
“We will need a lee-way to make sure that all warships can be contacted and return back across the line.”
“That is also understood.” She smiled.
The table produced a book that everyone signed. They stood and walked to their adjacent airlocks. Rigaar watched the door close across the small room.
“I do not like this Jeremy,” he said, the translator whispering to mimic his own intonation. “The only ones that give in so easily are those that want something else.”
“Maybe they have hostilities they need to deal with elsewhere,” he said stepping through into the shuttle. “They need peace with us for their own survival.”
“If Kaliif were here he would argue to seize the moment of their weakness to crush them.”
“Sounds like Kaliif has taken this personally.”
“He has. We all have. You would too if you had lost your home.”
“We’ve all lost something, some more, some less,” Harrington said, smiling at him, not showing any teeth.
“Cha,” the word was not translated. “I'm a war leader, not a peace leader.”
“Everyone can learn, Reegarf,” Harrington took a seat, only one of two seats in the passenger compartment.
“Ready sir?” the voice from the cockpit asked.
“Go ahead, son,” Harrington said. He couldn't but help feel his age.
The small shuttle disconnected from the sphere and thrust away, returning to the Starflight.
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About the Author
Timothy Manley was born in 1967. He was very much a child of the ‘70s. He came of age in the early ‘80s, figured out who he was in the ‘90s and actually finished growing up in the 21st century once he ‘had it all down’. Tim and his two brothers were raised by their single mother on her own. She could best be described as a “nomadic bleeding heart hippie searching for meaning”.
Timothy now lives in Southern Louisiana with his wife and three of their five children still living at home. Their lives are busy and full and he tries to fit time to write into the end of each day. He tends to lean towards science fiction, fantasy and macabre. But any story can come to mind and present itself.
Copyright
Saurians
Written by Timothy Manley
Executive Editor: Michael A. Wills
This story is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, locations, and events portrayed in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination, fictitious, or used fictitiously. No claim to the trademark, copyright, or intellectual property of any identifiable company, organization, product, or public name is made. Any character resembling an actual person, living or dead, would be coincidental and quite remarkable.
Saurians. Copyright © 2018 by Timothy Manley. This story and all characters, settings, and other unique features or content are copyright Timothy Manley. Published under exclusive license by Digital Fiction Publishing Corp. Cover Image Adobe Stock: Copyright © 176768707. This version first publis
hed in print and electronically: FEBRUARY 2018 by Digital Fiction Publishing Corp., LaSalle, Ontario, Canada. Digital Science Fiction and its logo, and Digital Fiction Publishing Corp and its logo, are Trademarks of Digital Fiction Publishing Corp.
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