First Salik War 2: The V'Dan

by Jean Johnson

  “Please relax . . . Private, yes?”

  “Sir, Private First Class Jay Krimmer, sir!”

  (The words you want in Terranglo are “At Ease,”) she offered.

  Dipping his head, Li’eth switched languages briefly. “At Ease, soldier, and be seated. This is not a formal meeting, and I am not in your chain of command.” Switching back to V’Dan, he gave her an explanation. “Introducing alien races in pairs was suggested by the K’Katta as sound psychology. Indeed, experiments have proved that the alien races, when introduced in pairs, are more likely to be perceived as allies. Alone, they seem friendless and thus less friendly. Together, they can be viewed in terms of ‘If those two can get along with each other in the same room, then we should be able to get along with them, too.’

  “This has not only proved to be effective among . . . Human mind-sets, but among their own kinds as well. For the most part, the Salik being the current notable exception,” he stated. Returning to the subject of introductions, he gave them some information about the species they were about to meet. “The Choya, being amphibious and preferring saltwater to freshwater habitats—though they can occupy freshwater with the right provisions—are fairly unique. Even the Salik rely more upon lung power once they become adults, but the Choya remain in possession of fully functional gills as well as functional lungs from birth.

  “The females tend to be slightly smaller than the males, and have multiple front-to-back crests, usually no less than three but most often four or five; males tend to be slightly larger and usually have only one, or at most, two crests. Male crests are further distinguished by being taller than female ones by a couple size factors—in measurement terms that don’t require you to try to translate between Terran and V’Dan systems, it’s roughly the difference between a single fingerbone versus an entire finger,” he offered. “There is, of course, no shame in not being able to tell them apart right away, and you can always refer to them by the honorific meioa, or in third person by the pronouns for ‘they,’ ‘them,’ and so forth.

  “This, of course, goes for any of the beings you are about to meet, including our fellow V’Dan . . . who are Humans like you.” He paused, eyed the gathered Terrans, then nodded at Jackie. “Are you ready, Grand High Ambassador?”

  “Yes. Is everyone else ready?” she asked, twisting to look around her. Every member of the Terrans save for Clees had taken a seat; the telepath-cum-reporter hovered at the back of the room, peering through a camera hovering directly in front of him and guiding two more into clinging to the walls, one behind and to his left, the other up at the front of the room, where it attached itself to the ceiling and angled its lenses down at everyone. At the nods of the rest and with no signs of dissent, she turned back to the shuttered window. “. . . You may begin when ready, Your Highness.”

  Nodding, he turned to the room controls. “Is everyone ready on the other side?”

  A familiar voice came back across. “Everyone is ready; thank you for being settled on time.”

  Nodding, Li’eth tapped the button that unlocked the window shutters. They split horizontally, rising into the ceiling and sinking into the floor on both sides of the glass, or whatever served as a transparent substance for V’Dan observation ports. On the other side, standing off to the left side of the round-cornered window, Jackie could see Imperial First Lord Mi-en Ksa’an, with his two-tone green stripes and his dark brown hair. His outfit today was a deep blue with overtones of purple, cut in a style similar to Li’eth’s military uniform.

  Behind and beside him were three more V’Dan. Filling the right half of the chamber sat the Choya delegation, a total of five aliens. Jackie knew that two in each party were reporters, news collectors for transforming the account of the meeting into packets that would be sent off on each starship leaving the local system, in the hopes that someone would get this information back to their home governments or to colonyworlds. One of those reporters for each group was easy to determine, too, for they were doing things with objects that seemed to be used for guiding and checking on hovering gizmos. Cameras, most likely, small and vaguely similar to the ones being wielded by their own makeshift reporter.

  The V’Dan were, well, V’Dan. Humans with colorful marks on their bodies, clad in outfits similar to the Imperial First Lord’s. One fellow, sitting next to the camera-tending woman, had chosen a shirt and braid-frogged vest that bared his arms so that his yellow lightning stripes could be seen on his mahogany skin.

  It took Jackie a few moments to realize that the reason for his bare arms wasn’t the heat, since the other V’Dan were dressed conservatively despite the sweat forming on their faces. It was, she realized, because none of the randomly placed, wobbling, forked jungen marks turning his dark chestnut skin a vibrant gold on those bared arms reached up past his collarbones. Nothing on neck, nothing on face, nothing visible in the dark brown of his eyes or the short-trimmed, tight black curls of his hair. Though the much-lighter-skinned woman seated next to him, playing with her camera controls, had medium blue blotches irregularly scattered over her limbs, somehow his branching, golden streaks look more intriguing, more prominent, thanks to the sheer amount of skin exposed.

  Jackie didn’t have much more time to contemplate that; they were already being introduced to the foremost V’Dan aside from the Imperial First Lord. That was the Admiral Superior Jes-na Tal’en-qua, a formidable-looking woman with honey-gold skin, brown eyes, dark hair liberally streaked with gray and patches of burgundy, and, of course, burgundy-hued crescents a little bit larger than Ba’oul’s aqua blue ones scattered over her skin, about the size of finger and thumb arched in a large curve.

  “Welcome aboard the Dusk Army, Grand High Ambassador,” the admiral stated. “I am aware the accommodations of our quarantine sector are not exactly First Tier, but I hope they are adequate.”

  “Thank you. They are indeed adequate,” Jackie returned politely. She stifled the urge to suggest paintings on the walls and potted plants tucked into corners. As things stood, the paintings might be a good idea, but the potted plants would probably put out too many histamines via pollen and perfumes. “Thank you for being willing to accommodate so many of us at once.”

  “The life-support systems are managing adequately, without strain,” Admiral Tal’en-qua stated politely.

  “Behind her are News Collator Ar-med J’shouran, and his technician, Pel Sa-min,” Ksa’an introduced next. “They are attending mainly to record these events for posterity, though Honorable J’shouran will be asking a few questions. Is there any business which you wish to discuss with the Admiral Superior at this time, or with Honorable J’shouran?”

  Jackie glanced around her at her fellow Terrans before replying. She got a response to her silent inquiry, but not a verbal one. It was a telepathic one, and came with a polite mental knock and a physical flutter of Clees’ fingers. (Any chance I could discuss technical aspects with their reporter crew?)

  Smiling, Jackie faced forward. (I’ll look into it.) Out loud, she said, “Not at this moment, though our own News Collator would like some time at some point to discuss professional subjects with the Honorables J’shouran and Sa-min.”

  “Of course. A suitable session will be arranged for a later time,” Ksa’an promised.

  Li’eth had explained to Jackie when this meeting was first being arranged that introducing the familiar V’Dan first was a way to give both sides a bit of time for studying each other’s unfamiliar biology . . . save that the Terrans were the same as V’Dan, more or less, so the Choya shouldn’t need quite as much time. Still, it was a courtesy to allow the Terrans to look their fill before introductions were made. With the initial greeting finished, the Imperial First Lord gestured at the Choya seated in the front row.

  “Grand High Ambassador Ja’ki Maq’en-zi, I present Ambassadorial Adjunct G’nneal, Forearm of Grand High Ambassador Terrlog.”

  (What the . . . ? Fo
rearm?) Jackie wasn’t the only one to think it; Clees shared his own exclamation at the same moment.

  (Sorry,) Li’eth apologized quickly. Jackie quickly passed along his explanation when he continued, reassuring Clees as well. (I forgot to explain that the Choya like to name themselves after important feats, functions, and features. Landscapes, body parts, deeds, that sort of thing. The Grand High Ambassador himself is called the Thumb of the Son of Cho—thumbs being very important body parts for most sentient species to possess. Even the K’Katta have their own version of thumbs, since a part of the definition of sentiency includes tool-wielding abilities.)

  (Right.) She refocused her attention on the greeting the Choya was giving her. She had to concentrate to understand his accent, since he spoke with more liquid vowels and consonants than the firmer, more glottal-stop-riddled sounds the V’Dan tended to make. An idle corner of her mind pondered which Terran language V’Dan sounded like. Possibly Urdu or Sanskrit, though there is some African interior influence, and a touch of . . . pay attention, Jackie.

  The Adjunct was asking her a question. “You arrre the same ssspecies as the F’Dann?”

  “As far as science and medicine can tell, yes,” she replied. “We, the Terrans, evolved on our world. We call our species Human, or Humans for the plural form. At some point, the V’Dan were removed from our mutual world and brought here. We have no record of their migration, however.”

  Adjunct G’nneal ruffled his double crests briefly, narrowing his eyes. The paired flaps of skin were apparently controlled by thin ribs, which raised and lowered two, three times. “Very fffew of usss have records lonnnger than sssix thousannd yearss. The VV’Dan being an exsssceptionn. They sssseem to have been borrrnn with pennnss grrripped.”

  (The thing he’s doing with his crests and his eyes is a sign of humor,) Li’eth murmured in the back of her mind.

  (I’m glad to know that.)

  (Remember, don’t smile back with bared teeth,) he added, sensing her incipient reply.

  (I remember,) Jackie agreed. That had been among the protocol lessons given to them before they had even left Earth, let alone the Sol System. She smiled with closed lips. “Our potential new allies are exceptional in many ways. We brought three historians in our embassy delegation to study the histories of the various Alliance races, as well as specifically studying V’Dan history, including its earliest records, to try to make sense of how our joint species came to be separated.”

  Twisting in her seat, she indicated a figure in the next row back. The woman, her face more squarish than oval, her brown hair neatly styled and falling to her shoulders, realized Jackie meant her, and stood, smoothing the skirt of her sleeveless, light blue dress.

  “This is Meioa Adelle Mariposa, one of our historians,” Jackie introduced. “She has expressed interest in your people. Another kind of historian, similar to your news collectors, is also one of our primary translators, Heracles Panaklion; he is at the back of the room, and is an amateur reporter, someone more interested in current events.”

  Clees lifted his hand at the introduction, then returned it to his control tablet. Adelle sat down again. On the other side of the window, the Choyan Adjunct lifted a hand, spreading his digits with the palm toward himself. The move stretched the webbing that had hung slack until that moment. “Ssharinng your obserfations would be appreciated. Lllooking in the mirror of annnother’s eyess can be faluablle for ssself-examination.”

  “I would be happy to share copies of my recordings, meioa,” Clees stated. “For now, we have only the ability to translate our programming languages into V’Dan formats, but we hope to improve that, soon.”

  “We will share our recordings, too, in F’Dan format,” the Adjunct agreed, and looked to Ksa’an, then beside him to the two females seated to the right.

  “Next is Military Consultant Fifth Rank Cheru, Knuckle of the Embassy Guard here on V’Dan,” the V’Dan nobleman enlightened them.

  The female—five crests streaking her skull from the brow backward—blinked slowly, then lifted her chin. It wasn’t quite as prominent as on a Human, and her teeth were a bit sharp in front, not quite the incisors of a Human, but she didn’t seem overly threatening. Jackie knew that appearances could be deceiving, however; the rest of the alien’s body was quite muscular under the straps wrapped around her torso and throat, and she had what looked like weapon holsters and ammunition pouches strapped to thighs and arms, both forearms and upper arms.

  “I am currriousss about your millitary capabillities,” the Consultant stated. Her accent was a little bit different than Adjunct G’nneal’s; she seemed more capable of pronouncing Vs and such, and easier for Jackie to understand overall. “Your ssships are small, and nnnot impressive on first llook, save for one thing.”

  “And that would be?” Captain al-Fulan asked.

  Jackie quickly introduced them. “Meioas, this is the head of our embassy guard, Captain Hamza ibn Tariq ibn Iosef al-Fulan. You may call him Captain al-Fulan. Commander Robert Graves is in charge of our ships and their crews, but it is currently his sleep cycle, and the captain is authorized to communicate on his behalf.”

  “A plleasurrre it is to meet my counterparrt,” the female Choya stated. “You may call me Consssultant Fifth Cheru. The irrrregularity in your ssships is a currious inability to dissscernn what llies behind theirrr hulls.”

  A swift look away and down by Ksa’an focused Jackie’s attention on him. She tried to view his aura, but it swirled with too many colors for her to discern any useful meaning. A glance at Admiral Superior Tal’en-qua showed that her own aura was agitated.

  “Imperial First Lord Ksa’an, Admiral Superior Tal’en-qua . . . my apologies if this is a breach of etiquette concerning sovereign military capabilities, but have the V’Dan had problems as well at scanning through our hulls?” Jackie asked.

  Li’eth’s cousin didn’t meet her gaze. The head of the space station cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and clasped her hands in her lap, legs crossed. “At this time,” Tal’en-qua stated, “we have not been able to discern the depth of detail we normally can through other Alliance vessel hulls. I will state, however, that the Dusk Army is not quite as efficiently equipped for such things as a typical military—”

  “—Please, Admiral Superior,” Li’eth interrupted. She blinked and leaned forward in her seat, peering at him as he shifted more into view through the observation port. Li’eth held up his hand, palm toward himself. “If our technology cannot scan accurately through their hulls, then admit it. The different technologies these Terrans could bring to the negotiation table could alter the course of the war. But they will not bring what they do not know could be useful.”

  She arched a brow at him. “Is this advice from a captain, or from the Imperial Prince?”

  He didn’t flinch. “Both, Admiral Superior.”

  Sighing, she didn’t hesitate more than a heartbeat or two before she faced Jackie again. “. . . We can’t tell a Saint’s spit of information through those polished hulls of yours. We’ve gotten minor readings through the viewports, but the angle has to be just right, and the ship has to be stationary.”

  “Which is good information to know, Admiral Superior. If we cannot sense anything through them, and the Choya cannot,” Li’eth stated, “this means that it is a potential new armament to thwart Salik scanners, too.”

  “I woullld be happier to knnow how well they survive direct damage,” the Consultant stated. She looked at Captain al-Fulan. “Would you have anny spare hull segmennts for testing?”

  “None that we can spare at the moment, Consultant Fifth,” al-Fulan replied calmly. “But I could arrange to have some shipped as soon as negotiations begin.”

  “Nnnegotiationss?” G’nneal repeated. His crest rose and stayed up.

  “Some things we may choose to share freely, but we will retain control of the technology, such as ou
r hyperrelay communication systems,” Jackie told him and the others on the opposite of the observation window. “Other things, such as our hull material, may be negotiated for direct purchase or even for production formulas.”

  “Mmmmay, but not willl,” Adjunct G’nneal pointed out, flattening his dual crests.

  Jackie nodded in confirmation. “Those are things that must be determined through negotiations and fully shared data. I suspect our military analysts would insist upon seeing how your weapons measure up against your own hulls as well as ours, along with tests of our weapons against yours as well as our own. Such things require transparency among allies, but such things require trust.”

  “Trrrranssparenncy?” G’nneal asked, looking at Ksa’an for clarification.

  The Imperial First Lord blinked. “Ah . . .”

  “Forgive me for using a Terran phrase. I meant everything needs to be revealed, not concealed,” Jackie restated. “Honesty on both sides, open sharing, nothing hidden. Transparent like this window, as opposed to opaque like that wall,” she added, pointing off to the side. “It is a word used for when you need to see through the barrier to what is happening on the other side.”

  “That mmmakes senssse,” the Adjunct said. “Let uss rrremember to discuss what nneedsss to be accomplished for these nnnegotiationss to begin.”

  Jackie nodded. “Agreed.”

  —

  The meeting with the Choya had been held before lunch, and Jackie felt it had gone well. Rosa had, too, pointing out in a quiet conversation in Mandarin all the things she thought had been handled well and a few things she thought Jackie should consider for future reference. As confident as Jackie felt about making negotiations—part and parcel of being a translator for the government, as well as being a Counselor—it felt good to know she had the older, more experienced woman’s praise and advice.