“Should we push back, just to make the point?” Leitz asked.
“No,” Sylvia said. “Let her pretend she has an upper hand for the moment. All of us know the reality, I suspect.”
“Or she’s fucking delusional,” her chief of staff observed.
“Then these negotiations are going to be very interesting,” Sylvia replied.
Given that she wasn’t expecting to make it through the peace conference without somebody betraying her, interesting was a default assumption.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Raven’s shuttlebay was a buzzing hive of activity when Sylvia reached it. She had sent a full suitcase of personal effects on ahead, but she’d thought only one shuttle was heading over to Carpenter.
Instead, it looked like at least three were being prepped—the three she recognized as having gravity shields.
“That seems excessive,” she noted aloud.
“Sixteen GroundDiv troopers, full armor for the same, supplies for twenty-some humans for a week, and making sure the ambassador has an escape route if everything goes wrong,” Henry Wong said from behind her.
She turned to find the captain standing by the door, watching the activity with a small smile. He was in his working uniform—black slacks and the white-necked black turtleneck of his rank—and he raised a sardonic eyebrow at her.
“You didn’t expect us to leave your security in the hands of the La-Tar Cluster, did you?” he asked. “Thompson’s been coordinating with Em Leitz for a bit. If the Voice is bringing sixteen guards, we’re sending you with sixteen guards.”
“And Rising Principle?” she asked drily.
“Rising Principle has eighty of La-Tar’s elite commandos aboard Carpenter,” Wong pointed out. “The same terrifyingly dangerous people who captured surface-to-orbit weapon installations and turned them on the Kozun for us.
“I’m not concerned about or responsible for the La-Tar ambassador’s security,” he concluded. “I am concerned about and responsible for your security, Em Ambassador.”
Sylvia chuckled. Something about his concern warmed her heart, though she suspected she was reading far too much into his professional façade.
“The concern and the escort are appreciated, Henry,” she told him. “Anything I should be watching for?”
“Thompson is in direct command of your escort,” he said, his voice suddenly coldly serious. “He’s carrying a high-powered encrypted transmitter with frequency-shifting codes and everything we could think of. It should penetrate any jamming or security to at least send an SOS. We’ve coordinated hourly check-ins with Carpenter’s command crew, but I want you to check in as often as you can as well.
“We’ll have at least a company of GroundDiv on standby at all times, and both Glorious and Raven will be remaining at Status Two at all times.” He shrugged. “Everybody has their shields up, so no one is complaining about mine.”
“Skip drones?” she asked.
“Standard twelve-hour update sequence for Zion is already programmed in,” he told her. “Full telemetry downloads under our best encryption. Every update we get from you will be automatically downloaded to the drones, and everything is fired off back to the Alliance twice a day.”
“Everything so far looks aboveboard,” she said. “We might actually manage to negotiate a peace treaty here.”
“I hope so,” he agreed. “I’m concerned for your safety, Sylvia,” he admitted. “I don’t like you being on the most vulnerable ship here.”
“I suspect that Star Voice Kalad is even less happy about having one of her religious leaders on that ship,” Sylvia pointed out. “It’s an equality of dissatisfaction, Henry. That was the point.”
“I know. I don’t like it,” he repeated.
“My dear Captain, be careful,” she warned him with a chuckle. “I might start to think you care under that professional façade.”
He arched that damned eyebrow again.
“Be careful,” he told her. “We’re here if something goes wrong, but there are distinct limits in how much we can physically do.”
“This isn’t my first dangerous negotiation, Henry,” Sylvia reminded him. “I’ll be fine.”
The GroundDiv pilots managing the shuttles didn’t even let Sylvia’s shuttle land on Carpenter first. A GroundDiv security team touched down first, eight of the armored soldiers spreading out and coordinating with the La-Tar commandos before letting the Ambassador aboard the ship.
Two figures waited patiently for her once she was finally aboard. Sylvia couldn’t read the body language of the Venus flytrap–like Enteni ambassador, but the Sana man standing next to Rising Principle was very readable.
Like most Ashall, the Sana could have passed for human at a distance, though his chlorophyll-colored green hair and gold-tipped tusks would cause problems close up. His grin didn’t take much cross-species experience to interpret, either.
“Ambassador Todorovich, you is-are welcome aboard Carpenter,” Rising Principle greeted her in their stilted Kem. “Be known-knowing Captain Atchi.”
Atchi bowed, his ponytail flopping across the shoulder of his stark white uniform tunic as he did.
“Welcome to my ship,” he said simply. “We have places for your shuttles if they are staying?”
“That is my understanding, yes,” Sylvia agreed. “Thompson!”
Her bellow brought the GroundDiv officer over instantly. The massive blond man gave the two La-Tar representatives a crisp salute.
“Em Ambassador?” he asked—in Kem, to be polite.
“How many of the shuttles are we keeping aboard Carpenter?” she replied.
“As many as Captain Atchi has space for,” he said. “Captain?”
“You brought three? They can stay,” Atchi confirmed. “We will regrettably have to limit the Kozun to just one shuttle.”
“That is-was no concern of ours,” Rising Principle murmured. “Are-were you ready for the fate-times of this meeting, Ambassador?”
“This is mostly your show, Ambassador,” Sylvia reminded them. “The UPA has limited desires here, and they are not critical to the treaty. I am here to support you.”
The United Planets Alliance would like commitments to sentient rights and better treatment for the worlds they had to leave under Kozun rule. Sylvia was quite certain that a few of the corporations back in Terran space would be delighted to have trading rights in Hierarchy space, too.
She didn’t want to leave planets under Kozun rule without some promise that they would be treated as member worlds instead of slaves, but peace for La-Tar was more important.
“It is-will-be appreciated,” Rising Principle told her. “I am-will-be ready.”
Atchi shook his head, lowering his hand from a concealed earpiece—none of the people in the former Kenmiri Empire had internal networks, something to do with the Kenmiri controlling the technology they’d use for neural implants—and coughed to interrupt them.
“The Voice is almost here,” he told them. “We need to get your things moved to your temporary quarters and the shuttles cleared. It will go faster if the three of us leave the shuttlebay for a few minutes.”
Sylvia was half-expecting the Voice’s shuttle to be gold-plated or chromed or something similar. Instead, it was a standard Kenmiri heavy assault shuttle. Significantly larger than the UPA-built craft she’d arrived in, it was the largest parasite craft the Kenmiri had built, capable of landing an entire company of the Warriors’ elite.
It was overkill for sixteen troops and a diplomat, but that was in line with what Sylvia had seen of the Third Voice.
Even as the big shuttle settled onto the deck, several weapons systems were visibly tracking the occupants of the bay. In response, anti-intrusion turrets lowered from the bay’s ceiling to return the favor.
No one was shooting yet, but a lot of guns were pointing each way. Several seconds of pointed silence followed as Sylvia tried not to hold her breath.
Then the ramp finally lowered and
four armored soldiers advanced. Their armor was modern enough, clearly adapted from Kenmiri Warriors’ power armor, but this had been chromed. In the artificial light of the shuttlebay, the lead escorts gleamed.
“Well, that will be headache-inducing,” Thompson murmured in English next to Sylvia.
From Atchi’s body language, the Sana Captain might not understand the GroundDiv officer…but he agreed with the sentiment.
After a moment, the four Paladins split, stepping to either side of the ramp as four more armored bodyguards followed them down the ramp. They advanced to meet the honor guard of La-Tar commandos.
The two collections of soldiers glared at each other for a moment, the La-Tar commandos gleaming significantly less but still looking just as deadly as the Paladins, before the Kozun troops turned and effectively joined the honor guard.
The Third Voice came down the ramp, flanked by two more Paladins. She didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the soldiers—or anything else, for that matter. The blonde Kozun priestess-leader walked calmly down the ramp in a lavender-blue robe that set off her eyes and the sapphires in the gold nets over her armor plates.
She paused at the La-Tar honor guard, taking a moment to visually review the commandos before giving them a nod of quiet acknowledgement and continuing on. That was more respect than Sylvia had expected from the Kozun, surprising her enough to let Oran Aval reach where she and Rising Principle stood.
“Ambassador Todorovich, Ambassador Rising Principle,” she greeted them.
“Voice Aval,” Sylvia replied. “I believe Captain Atchi has prepared quarters for you.”
“That will not be necessary,” Aval said. “If it is necessary, I will sleep aboard my shuttle for everyone’s safety. For now, we believe that all are best served by commencing the discussions immediately.
“Shall we proceed, Ambassadors?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sylvia didn’t know what else had been included in the refit Carpenter had undergone to serve as a diplomatic ship, but it had included a conference room large enough for all three of the negotiators to have staff and bodyguards.
The space was clearly a new addition, lacking any of the decoration Kenmiri Artisans insisted on installing on any warship they designed. Simple rugs had been laid down over bare metal in an attempt to conceal the utilitarian nature of the chamber, but there was only so much the escort’s crew could do.
The part that impressed Sylvia was that the crew had managed to come up with banners to hang behind each representative’s seat. The half-circle of stars of the UPA hung behind her seat, where a stylized sheaf of grain surrounded by five swords hung behind Rising Principle’s stool.
She hadn’t actually seen the Kozun flag before and was intrigued by the imagery. It was a white-cup-on-black flag, with seven differently colored “gems” on the cup, one for each of the Kozun’s gods and their Voices.
Aval didn’t slow on entering the room, taking the seat in front of the Hierarchy flag and waving her guards and staff to the seats behind her. Sylvia gave a nod to Leitz and Thompson to do the same as she took her own seat.
Rising Principle’s staff were already waiting, but three commandos took the rear seats intended for the security detail.
Three representatives, a dozen bodyguards and half a dozen staff. The room was big enough to still feel half-empty, like this was far too few people to decide the fate of entire star systems.
Sylvia remained standing as the other two took their seats, a formal leather folio held in her hands.
“I think the simplest place for us to begin is a clarification of the source of our respective authorities to negotiate for our countries,” she told them in Kem. She opened the folio and laid it on the table between them. “This is my commission of plenipotentiary authority from the Security Council of the United Planets Alliance. I am authorized to commit the UPA to any treaty that I negotiate.”
That wasn’t entirely true—the Security Council and Assembly could refuse to endorse the treaty she negotiated. That would end her career and have serious consequences for the long-term interstellar relations of the UPA, so it was highly unlikely.
But it was possible.
“I am-was charged by the planetary governors and the Arbiter of the La-Tar Cluster to speak on their behalf,” Rising Principle stated without standing. “I am-was tasked to bring the fate-time of war to ending.”
Oran Aval eyed them both as Sylvia took her seat, then nodded carefully. Her hairstyle bobbed sufficiently with the nod to suggest that care was needed.
“I am the Third Voice of the Kozun,” she said simply. She waited for a moment, then sighed. “I speak for the gods, the people and the Hierarchy of the Kozun. I am one of the Seven who guide our people, a leader of our planet and our Hierarchy. My words bind the Kozun.”
That was about what Sylvia had expected. The UPA had a formal structure for diplomats and had sent a senior diplomat—her. The La-Tar Cluster barely had a formal government and had specifically designated someone they all trusted to speak for them.
The Kozun had sent a member of their governing council, one of the most powerful sentient beings in the Hierarchy.
“If that is insufficient for you,” Aval continued after another moment’s pause, “know that my mate is Mal Dakis and I am here with his complete trust.”
That was not what Sylvia had expected. Sending the Third Voice, which she figured to be the third-ranked member of their government, was a sign of good faith and intentions. Sending the wife of the unquestioned dictator of the Kozun?
The Hierarchy might be even more serious about these negotiations than she’d hoped.
“I am prepared to accept that as a basis for these negotiations,” Sylvia said. “Rising Principle?”
“The word-intent of this fate-time suffice,” they agreed.
“Good,” Aval told them. “Then I will begin. La-Tar was peacefully annexed by the Hierarchy’s forces as we attempted to bring stability and prosperity to this region. Our goal is and always has been to provide a shared path forward.
“In response to our peaceful efforts in this region, first the United Planets Alliance and then the terrorist forces now styling themselves the La-Tar Cluster attacked our ships and people without provocation, killings thousands of brave Kozun who were attempting to help the people of La-Tar and destroying multiple starships.
“Despite these provocations and atrocities, the Hierarchy is prepared to make peace,” she continued. “To do so, we will require compensation for the lives, equipment and ships lost in the vicious and unjustified campaign of violence waged against our interests in the Cluster.
“We are prepared to negotiate on the nature and quantity of the reparations required, but the Hierarchy will require amends to be made for the damage to our assets in the region.”
Sylvia was impressed at the sheer audacity of the Voice’s position. The Kozun had invaded the Cluster, obliterated an allied fleet—mostly belonging to the Tano—above La-Tar and conquered the only source of food for five worlds.
“I do-will not understand what fate-time you think has-was passed among these stars,” Rising Principle said calmly as Sylvia tried to muster her own thoughts. “We can-will not negotiate based on lies-false-fates.”
They laid a tablet on the table and a tendril tapped a command. Two holograms appeared above the table. One was a three-dimensional visual of the First Battle of La-Tar, showing a Kozun cruiser and her escorts tearing their way through the allied fleet desperately defending the agriworld.
The other was a list of names. It was scrolling automatically and kept going.
“The Hierarchy invaded La-Tar,” Rising Principle said flatly. “This is-was the true-fate-time of what passed. You destroyed our allies. Destroyed our defenses. Invaded our cities. Murdered our Standards.”
As they spoke, the holograms shifted. First the space battle. Then orbital bombardment. Then Kozun landers exchanging fire with the defenders on the surface.
“You withheld our crops from the worlds we feed,” they continued. “Five worlds could-were threatened with death if they defied you. The UPA helped us save-rescue ourselves. And you say-speak these lies-false-fates?”
Whoever had edited Rising Principle’s display tablet had done a phenomenal job, Sylvia saw. Even having seen most of the footage before, it sent shivers down her spine. The Kozun occupation of La-Tar had not been gentle—and the invasion had been worse.
“You could-would have left the worlds-we-feed to die,” the Enteni told Oran Aval. “I will-can not listen to your lies-false-fates.”
They rose from the stool, a somewhat awkward process for the trilaterally symmetrical being.
“Speak true-fates or we will-have wasted fate-time in gathering here,” they told Aval. Gesturing with a tendril for their people to follow them, Rising Principle began to head for the door.
“Sit down, Ambassador,” Oran Aval said quietly. “We have both demonstrated our extreme positions, I think. But neither of us will cling to those over peace. We are here to talk.”
She gestured toward the Enteni-style stool.
“I have stated where the Voices begin. Now let us hear where the Cluster begins…and perhaps we can find a space somewhere in between where no more blood needs to be shed.”
Sylvia saw Aval’s purpose now. By setting an impossible expectation, she gave the Kozun ground to give that she could demand concessions for—like trying to reduce the reparations the Cluster was going to, quite justifiably, demand.
“I think we must state, first, that the UPA will not accept any treaty that does not admit the Kozun’s responsibility for the invasion of the Cluster,” she told Aval. “I will not permit you to use a false claim of damages to reduce the depths of the Hierarchy’s crimes.
“The Hierarchy brought blood and fire to these stars. They have conquered worlds and made slaves of peoples freed by the Kenmiri’s fall. The United Planets Alliance will not stand aside while you rewrite history to erase these actions.”
Raven's Course (Peacekeepers of Sol Book 3) Page 15