First Salik War 2: The V'Dan

by Jean Johnson

  Jackie winced internally. The longer-emphasized European aa was not the same thing as the emphasized-with-glottal-stop a’ of Imperial High V’Dan. She had given Premiere Callan their language herself, but mental knowledge of pronunciation—however accurate—did not always translate into exact physical replication.

  (It’s okay; the Solaricans and Tlassians have some trouble with our glottals,) Li’eth reassured her. (The Gatsugi, Choya, and K’Katta like them, however. It is still the easiest language for everyone to pronounce though I suspect Terranglo may soon supplant that.)

  (Easier in pronunciation, perhaps, but it is at times an insane language, requiring a great deal of memorization,) she warned him. Around them, the visual pickups on the cameras, both hovering and stationary, had shifted to project Premiere Callan’s image in greater detail. The giant screens also alternated with images of Empress Hana’ka, who was addressing the Premiere.

  “I greet you in kind, Premiere Callan. Aloha, as you say. It is incredible to think we are conversing with someone on a world hundreds of light-years away,” she added, before falling silent.

  Six seconds passed, just long enough for people to begin getting restless. In the last three of those, Callan nodded, nodded again, then spoke. “Yes, almost as incredible as finding long-lost cousins hundreds of light-years from home just as we have begun to explore our nearest stars.” He smiled. “And found you living on a world with a very similar year-length, at that. Now, allow me the pleasure of introducing the rest of our government to your people . . .”

  This was the boring part for Jackie. She knew who many of the other Councilors were—she had worked alongside them for the last five years—and so she was free to let her mind wander while Callan introduced his Secondaire. Except it only wandered to the burgundy-striped man at her side. (Do you think you should return to your seat now?)

  Her reluctance made him squeeze the hand he was still holding. (I think I’d rather stand here while I can. The more our people see the two of us together, the more natural it will seem. Let’s not push the thought of separating us into anyone’s mind until they think of it. Or rather, the Empress thinks of it. She did, after all, loan me to you for an indefinite length of time.)

  Jackie quirked her brow briefly, glancing at him, then reviewed his mother’s words. (. . . Yes, she did, didn’t she? No specifying that it was just for this moment only. I think I shall have to find a subtle way to thank her.)

  (It was as much your own wording as hers,) Li’eth pointed out. (Now, I understand that some of the embassy members will be going on a tour of V’Dan and the insystem settlements, much as the others and I did of your Sol System. But Rosa told me she will be going on that tour, not you.)

  (That is correct,) Jackie agreed. (I’ll be eyebrow deep in second-stage preliminary agreements, prioritizing a few more things, smoothing out the roughest edges, sending information packets back and forth, consulting with our economists and yours to establish value rates for basic necessities . . . and trying to figure out how to not only pay back the Empress for her generous hospitality but how to start pulling our weight financially. I don’t suppose your people know what a souvenir is?)

  He blinked twice and gave her a sidelong look. (You and your people are planning on selling souvenirs to the Empire?)

  (Why not? A little something from the Motherworld—something that can be sterilized, of course, and nothing that could cause harm to either ecology, but something that says, “I have a little something from the Motherworld.” A touchstone, an anchor, a connection to long-lost history—I can tell you for sure that my people are anticipating yours will produce things that are similar.)

  (We are familiar with the concept of souvenirs, woman,) Li’eth stated wryly. (I was just thinking . . . well . . . the long-lost Motherworld would end up being a lot more mystical and hallowed, and not so . . . so . . .)

  (Normal, for a planet infested with Humans?) she quipped, and got a mental dirty look.

  (Yes, if you want to put it that way. I am sorry you won’t be able to go on that tour with the others,) he added, returning to the original topic. (But selfishly glad you’ll be nearby.)

  (Oh, I’ll go on a tour of V’Dan. It’ll just be one held at a later date.)

  (Considering you forgot to list coordinating the insertion of Terran military assistance into the war and all that your technology might be able to do, “a later date” might be a very long way off,) he reminded her.

  (So we’ll do it on our honeymoon. You V’Dan do have a concept similar to that one, right?) she asked, sending him suggestive images.

  (We also share the habit of spanking those who are naughty until they learn better,) Li’eth retorted. A faint hint of a blush crept across his cheeks even as he said that. (No teasing me during something that’ll be all over the info-matrices for the next ten thousand years. Some of my reactions will be more visible than yours.)

  (Fine. Let’s think about the reception coming next. You’ve had two days to start assessing Imperial Court politics. Any advice?) Jackie asked.

  (I’m still behind on all the gossip, but you’ll want to be extra-polite to the following people.) Li’eth murmured their names in her mind, attaching faces and even spotting them in the crowd for her, subtly drawing her attention with little glances right and left. Most were V’Dan, but some were true aliens.

  The introductions and explanations came to an end, with Premiere Callan saying, “. . . Now that your people understand a little more about ours, and how very different we are, I am told our broadcast technicians are ready to pass along the presentations your people have prepared for our embassy staff. Part parade, and part performance art, yes?”

  “That is correct,” Hana’ka stated. She rose from her seat and lifted her hands. “Let the very stones of our world welcome our honored guests, providing them with comfort as we provide them with our entertainments.”

  With the faintest of rasps and a hint of a hum, two rows of flagstones rose on either side of the First Tier Plaza, just in front of the ones serving as risers for the patiently watching nobles, officers, and bureaucrats of the highest ranks. They rotated as well, spinning a quarter turn backwards to reveal low-backed sofa-like structures, cushioned surfaces that would be easier to sit on for any length of time than an actual hunk of stone would be.

  “Grand High Ambassador Maq’en-zi, Assistant High Ambassador M’Crari, we welcome you to the Imperial Tier for the length of this celebration in your people’s honor, as direct representatives of your people and your leader, Premiere Callan,” the Empress stated. She gestured to the chairs that had been discreetly brought up to either side of her throne, placed between it and the chairs of her husband and eldest daughter.

  While her fellow Terrans rose and split to either side, Jackie carefully shielded her mind and offered her left hand to Rosa; her right hand still clasped Li’eth’s left. The older woman accepted graciously, and the three of them walked toward the steps of the Imperial Tier. Even with her shields clamped tight, Jackie could sense some of Rosa’s thoughts. They weren’t disruptive, though; the older stateswoman radiated satisfaction with how things were going, and a touch impressed by the sheer scope of Jackie’s projections.

  Empress Hana’ka was already on her feet, but as the trio approached, the Imperial Consort rose as well. Rose, and met his son’s gaze. Te-los stepped to the side, gesturing at his vacated chair, then turned and bowed to his mate, backed up a step, and settled in his son’s empty seat.

  (That’s . . . an interesting choice,) Li’eth murmured. (And an encouraging one.)

  All three of them bowed before the Empress. Hana’ka pulled her gaze from her husband and flicked her hands. Obediently, Jackie and Rosa parted company, with the older woman moving to the Empress’ right, Jackie and Li’eth to his mother’s left. They had to part hands as well, just so they could turn to face the ever-broadening courtyards stretching int
o the distance.

  A second subtle gesture, and the four of them seated themselves. The chairs were close enough that it was easy to give in to instinct and drape her left elbow on the armrest, while Li’eth draped his right, allowing their hands to clasp and twine. A couple of the projection screens picked up the image of the Grand High Ambassador and Imperial Prince holding hands, but not for long; those images were quickly supplanted by Master of Ceremonies. He stepped back up onto his podium, lifted his hands, and commanded, “Let the festivities begin!”

  From out of side tunnels between rows of stone risers, the performers emerged, starting with marching bands playing various instruments. Some were familiar—there were only so many different ways to make a drum after all, along with flutes and pan pipes, and of course horn-style instruments were as old as conch shells, plus plucked string instruments—but others were downright strange. The way the notes were arranged were also a bit strange, somewhere between the pentatonic and the octave. They were matched in harmonic frequencies, and lovely in their exoticness, but they weren’t the widespread scales and keys of common Terran tunes, either.

  (Father wants you to know something,) Li’eth stated as she tried to focus on the music.

  (I heard him,) Jackie demurred. (He didn’t mean to project, and I didn’t mean to overhear, but his shields and focus are, well . . . V’Dan. Please inform him I thank him deeply for the courtesy of allowing us to sit together and that I appreciate his faith in our holy bond.)

  Nodding slightly, he passed along her comment. The musicians marched and danced, then swung around to the right side, heading down toward Second Tier, while those from the Second Tier Plaza closed ranks and moved up along the left. (. . . He’s willing to make an appointment for lessons.)

  (Please apologize to your father. I cannot in good conscience allow such lessons—from myself or anyone else in our delegation—until I have the Empress’ permission. He’s too close to her, and I will have no accusations of undue influence over someone in such a close position of trust.)

  (. . . Father says he hoped you’d say that, but he still wishes to learn, once you both have permission.)

  It was her turn to nod subtly. She was somewhat distracted by the next incoming performance; the stones of the stairs had been realigned, turned into more gradually sloped ramps, and the group following the musicians were literally rolling up the ramp. (It’s on my to-do list . . . Ooh, ring dancers! And synchronized at that! I’ve only seen them a couple times back home, but these ones—wow!—they are vastly better than ours.)

  (It’s an ancient art form,) Li’eth explained, filling her in on the background. (Just under eight thousand years ago, the first giant bronze hoops were forged. Originally crafted for wine barrels, they were incorporated into performance art by the peoples of the region of Cas-Remath when . . .)

  CHAPTER 11

  MAY 19, 2287 C.E.

  JANVA 13, 9508 V.D.S.

  It was a good thing Grand Captain Tes’rin came early to escort Jackie and a few of her fellow Terrans to their first official meeting the next day. Everyone was exhausted from the reception, still a bit groggy, and trying to orient themselves on the maps of the Winter Palace over breakfast. Even with an extra hour and a half for sleep, it had been a long day. Jackie certainly was thinking of asserting a midday mandatory siesta policy so that people could nap and relax halfway through the longer V’Dan day rather than attempt to stay up an extra hour before trying to sleep it off in just half an hour’s extra rest. At the very least, she might end up needing a siesta.

  Local supplies still had to be arranged, furniture selected, and hundreds of little meetings set up in order to get familiar with various V’Dan departments to determine which were similar to Terran ones and which were a bit too different to categorize easily. Tes’rin patiently explained how to get from point A to point B, point A to point D, from C to G and W while Jackie hurried through the last of her breakfast and scurried off to change into her waiting uniform.

  The very first meeting, out of necessity, was going to be a military one. The V’Dan didn’t fully grasp the capabilities and incapabilities of the Terran Embassy fleet, or even the fact that it was a military fleet as well as a diplomatic one. The Terrans did not want to, as the ancient phrase went, cut in on anybody’s dance without asking, in case that turned it into a charlie foxtrot. But they were both occupying the same system, and had a common foe, and that meant they would have to coordinate defense efforts from the start.

  As Admiral-General Kurtz had lectured Jackie before leaving Earth, they were not officially at war with the Salik, but it was highly probable that the Salik would consider Terrans and V’Dan to be one and the same thing—tasty targets—and somewhat likely the aliens would come looking for the Terrans in specific, thanks to her choices and actions on board that enemy warship. Only somewhat, because only the Terrans had interstellar communications, which meant word of what she had done would spread relatively slowly through the Salik fleet. Nor were they officially allied with the V’Dan and the Alliance, though that, too, was merely a matter of time.

  So when Tes’rin guided her and her clutch of combined military and embassy personnel down to the service tunnels under the Winter Palace grounds and into a tram that sped them north toward the government wings, she went in her Dress Blacks, her medals pinned to her chest and her silver eagles to her lapels, shoulder boards, and the center of her cap.

  With her were Captain al-Fulan, Lieutenant Second Class Paea, the leader of the Second Platoon—Lieutenant Buraq had been left behind to remain in charge of the ground troops at the Embassy—Commander Graves, Lieutenant First Class Colvers—she didn’t get along with him personally, but he was well versed in orbital and insystem combat—and her two Space Force translators, Lieutenant First Class Darian Johnston and Lieutenant Junior Grade Min Wang-Kurakawa, plus the historian, Adelle Mariposa, who was there to record the meeting for translating and sending back to Earth. Mariposa did not have a military uniform, of course, but by either conscious or unconscious choice, she had selected a black pantsuit to wear, and so blended in with the small, soberly dressed crowd.

  The chamber they were escorted to was not far from the tram system. The actual structure, barrel-vaulted with elegant Gothic ribs and lined with monitor screens, looked not too dissimilar from a Terran tactical-command chamber. The central table also looked somewhat like the Terran version for such things; its surface held a giant workstation screen, with some areas dark and others lit with lists, schedules, spreadsheets, star charts, and other graphics. The lettering was different, the layout of the home system certainly not the same, and the uniforms on the bodies already in the room were brightly different from the sober colors worn by the Terrans, but beyond that, it wasn’t too alien.

  Empress Hana’ka was already there. Since the protocols for this sort of situation—military and somewhat urgent—had already been discussed, Jackie and company merely bowed when they were about halfway to the table before finishing their approach. As she straightened, Jackie spotted not only Li’eth near one end of the table, but a familiar dark-blond-and-hot-pink figure as well, Leftenant Superior V’kol Kos’q.

  “You’re here on time. Good. Thank you, Grand Captain Tes’rin; that will be all for now. Take your seats, everyone,” the Empress directed, while the embassy liaison thumped his fist to his chest and departed. Her outfit today was comparatively austere in its decorations and frills to yesterday’s public appearance, but her military-cut coat was still cloth of gold. She smoothed it as she sat down. The Terrans eyed each other, eyed the seats settled along the broad, oval table, and seated themselves, with Jackie taking the seat directly across from the Empress, al-Fulan to her left and Paea to her right, with the others sorting themselves out.

  Settling into the surprisingly comfortable padding of her rolling chair, Jackie set down her portfolio case and extracted several stacks of clipped-together papers and a
datapad. She did so hoping this meeting would go better—or at least more respectfully—than last night’s reception, postparade. It had been limited to just the Imperial Family and the members of the First Tier who had cared to attend. At first, everyone had been polite and welcoming, but as the afternoon had rolled into local evening, the attitudes of the jungen-marked members of the reception toward the markless Terrans had started surfacing in subtle ways.

  None of it had been blatant. The most overt of the remarks were ones about the ignorance of the Terrans, but mentioned in a sort of condescending way. Other, slightly less obvious comments were somewhat arrogant “gentle corrections” of what the Terrans knew versus what their V’Dan hosts knew . . . or thought they knew.

  There had also been the irksome habit of gravitating toward Dr. Du, asking her opinion more often than anyone else, and glancing her way subtly and not so subtly to see if she was going to confirm what other Terrans were saying. Jackie had taken pity on her, dismissing the pathologist back to the embassy when Li’eth noticed Jai’s aura flaring like a facial tic, for all the woman had done her best externally to seem calm and unbothered.

  Li’eth and his crew had long since sketched out the insignia for the various rankings in the V’Dan military A check of the metal shapes pinned on the red-and-gold uniforms of the men and women seating themselves around the table showed that most were generals and admirals of various ranks. Officers of the First Tier, in other words, with only Li’eth and V’kol for Second Tier officers who had leave to sit with them.

  Or rather, the pair held the right merely to stand behind two of those brown swivel chairs, until the Empress stated, “At this time, I elevate Imperial Prince Kah’raman V’Daania, Captain of the Imperial Army, to the rank of Grand Captain. I do so in order to make him a peer in rank to Cur-nel Ja’qi Maq’en-zi.”