LF Friends, Will Travel

This was not how Claire wanted her first real assignment to be.

Years of hard work had led to this moment, hundreds of thousands of hours working through bureaucratic messes, colony disputes, mindless trade meeting after trade meeting. All to finally get to the holy grail of Terran diplomacy: The official Terran Xeno relations department. A chance to not only meet and explore the universe, but make it a better place.

Claire Weber was the newest member of the team, having started a mere week ago. The first few weeks were supposed to be simple: Get to know people, acclimatise to the sterile boring space stations of the neutral federation and unpack your stuff. This meant when the message went out for anyone and everyone to help with this mess ASAP, Claire was the first and only other Terran diplomat immediately on the station at the time.

Which is how on her first job she found herself walking next to the diplomatic legend that was Jan Eagles, speeding down the corridors in an attempt to try and stop a galactic war.

“So this is the information on prince Hakthas I was able to scrounge up.” Claire handed the folder that was thick with papers to her boss as she struggled to keep up the fast pace.

“In summary however, Prince Hakthas was a disliked figure, including amongst the Raha: Considered exceptionally cruel even by their standards. Being fourth in the line to the throne meant he had very little responsibilities, so instead spent his time doing nothing more than draining the Raha royal treasury and ‘Joyriding’, for lack of a better term, among uncontacted or unaligned civilizations. Being assigned to his personal retinue was generally considered a punishment given to those who couldn’t be outright fired or killed”.

Claire took a moment to catch her breath, watching Jan go through the information she’d handed him. It wasn’t up to her usual quality and quantity, due to having a mere twenty minutes of research and collation time; she desperately hoped it was good enough to not leave a bad first impression.

“However if the alleged murder of Hakthas by a Terran is true, this has some serious repercussions. The Raha has fallen out of favour compared with the other four Estorian royal houses in recent years, due to their staunch belief that starting a war with the Terran Alliance would be a losing proposition. Taking into account the context of the Terran Alliance’s actions have slowed the Estorian Empires more recent advances. Having no response to such an action might let the other four houses believe that the Raha royal house no longer ‘deserves’ their place”.

Jan took a moment to look up from the wealth of information he’d been given, on both the alleged murder victim and the ambassador he was about to meet with.

“How long did this take you? You couldn’t have had more than half an hour to prepare this amount of information?”

“Around twenty minutes sir.”

Claire was not a great schmoozer. She couldn’t instantly bond with anyone in seconds. She very distinctly disliked long complicated political plans involving backstabbing everyone, much preferring people to be straight forwards. But what Claire was good at was research.

Claire was a mere 54 years of age, meaning while most Terrans were familiar with Xeno forms of communication, Claire had never known an empty universe: she had grown up with a galactic community and had embraced it. While most Terrans knew of and could use the various species Galnet systems, Claire had spent her entire life with them.

She could tell you on which nodes Lithorian soldiers tended to say too much, which species social media apps were the most used by each sector of employment, and who had the best facial recognition databases. Everyone left a trail behind and knowing everything about the person on the other side of the negotiating table, made working out deals much easier. Diplomacy was simple when you knew exactly what the other person actually wanted.

“Exceptional work, and call me Jan.” On such short notice he hadn’t expected anything other than someone able to be a second pair of eyes should the Estorian ambassador try something stupid, so this was a very welcome bonus.

“Si- Jan. I don’t understand why we go to this trouble? Considering how evil the Estorians are, why don’t we just-”

“Go to war with them?” Jan interrupted Claire, having answered this question any time a new member joined his team. It wasn’t like the Terran Alliance hadn’t used military intervention against others who had done similar actions in the past.

“There are a multitude of reasons Claire. Many of our members joined the alliance specifically for protection from the Estorian Empire. Dragging them into a war with the entity they were seeking protection from isn't really a good move. Also, while on paper we outnumber them, this force is spread out over a lot of small entities. Setting up blockades in space isn't possible, meaning all planets would need to be simultaneously defended. Even if we won, a Pyrrhic victory where a bunch of our allies are homeless isn't great."

He paused for a moment as the two entered an elevator, the thousands of copy-pasted floors of the station stretching below them as they rapidly ascended, Jan still reading the documents as he continued.

"Then there is the necessity of such an action. The five Royal Houses of the Estorian Empire are only allied because invading each other would be more effort than it's worth. Optimistic estimates suggest a full blown civil war in less than 10 years due to slowed expansion caused by the Terran Alliance. Don’t fight a war you don’t have to.”

The elevator doors opened, causing the Terran to lower his voice. While none of what he was saying was a secret, turning to a whisper as approaching a meeting was an old habit he wasn’t going to stop doing any time soon.

“Lastly, neither side is sure they would win. The technological level of both sides are mostly unknown to each other, and while the Terran Alliance outnumbers them, the Alliance is untested in such a potentially large operation. Rather simply: Never start a war you don’t know you will win.”

The seasoned diplomat took a moment to pause, giving an annoyed sigh in preparation for dealing with a pompous dick of the greatest magnitude. Jan then handed the documents back to the far more nervous Claire, giving her a reassuring smile.

“No need to panic. Like I said earlier, all you need to do is wait here. Just in case they decide to try something stupid.”

—---------------------

Jan Eagles office on the federation station was simple: a desk, various filing cabinets, a Galnet viewer, and simple seating for any visitors. The closest thing to a luxury was the small snowglobe he kept on a filing cabinet, a gift from a close friend. This was the complete opposite of Unk’gar’s office.

Opulence. Decadence. Any other fancy word ending with ence. The head ambassador for the Estorian Empire, a Raha by the name of Unk’gar had taken his species sense of superiority and self indulgence, and had given it life in the form of this room's decoration.

Giant statues of prominent Estorian leaders filled the larger than normal office. Paintings and holograms depicting their many victories over the subservients. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling as gigantic tables and chairs adorned the place, all made out of a deep purple wood that screamed 'expensive'. Everything was lined with precious metals and gems, all bathed in a fake light that made it seem as if the evening sun was streaming through a window.

It was in Jan’s simple opinion, tacky as hell, overcompensating and screaming insecurity.

“May the sun shine upon your path. I trust you are well”

The Raha was pressing both his hands together in front of him in welcome, as Jan forced a much practised smile on his face as he returned the greeting.

“And may the sun never set on yours. Unfortunately things could be better for both of us, I give my condolences for the prince.”

Unk’gar gave a wave of dismissal “We can discuss that later.” The Raha chose to motion towards a seat opposite to where he was sitting, various ornate containers of a steaming liquid placed on a table in front of them as well as various small snacks adorning the table “Please make yourself comfortable, I would be abandoning my sacred duties as a host to not let you refresh yourself with the bounties of the Estorian Empire.”

Jan took a seat, giving a nod of fake thanks and gratitude as he took a cup of the horrid bitter liquid the Raha drank, desperately resisting the urge to give the smug ambassador opposite him a good solid punch in the throat.

“Have you given our offer any further consideration?” Unk’gar said “The joining of our mighty empires would be a force to rival the heavens.”

Jan had given the offer some consideration, generally followed by either laughter or a general revulsion to the concept. The idea of getting into bed with slavers was half hilarious, half stomach turning.

“The current goals of the Terran Alliance do not align with actions of the Estorian Empire. Until that changes I don’t see any reason to revisit the offer.”

“How unfortunate.” The Raha placed a hand on his chest, signifying disappointment as he continued “Terrans really have impressed us since their emergence into the galactic community. To subjugate 431 species in such a short time is rather impressive.”

“The Terran Alliance is not subjugation.” Jan's voice turned sour as he spoke, even his practised demeanour slightly wavering as the insulting concept was mentioned. He knew exactly what his counterpart was doing: Annoying him before the actual meat of the meeting.

“Calling a slave collar a necklace doesn’t change what it is. Last I confirmed it was named the ‘Terran’ alliance. You enforce your own morality and power structures on your ‘members’.” The voice of Unk’gar was smug, a voice of supposed peace filled with venom. “When was the last time the Lithoirians actually fought someone? The Isolationist Hatil opening their borders? Even rumours of some Scythen aiding with weapons research. You subjugate those who join your alliance to Terran whims and morals, which is exceptionally impressive to be done on such a scale.”

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere.” Jan’s patience had run thin from the sanctimonious drivel being spouted by the Raha. “Unless your intention was to waste my time I believe we have something more important to discuss.”

"That was not my intent, I merely desired to find some common ground." Unk’gar tapped a button hidden on the underside of the table, causing a screen inlaid with yet more gold to come to life. "but as you insist.".

The clip was short with no audio, lasting a mere ten seconds, but clearly showing a Terran blowing a hole in the chest of Prince Hakthas using a rather weighty handgun. A suspicious lack of context was the first thought through Jan’s head.

“Three days ago Prince Hakthas was murdered in cold blood by a Terran. This heinous act against the Raha Royal house cannot go unanswered. Since we have been unable to find the perpetrator so far, we believe the Terran must have escaped into Terran Alliance space.” Unk’gar’s mandibles clicked together in a show of demanding and attempted dominance. “We demand that the Terran be remanded into the custody of the Estorian Empire, or we will take action.”

“Demand?” Jan raised an eyebrow, just wondering exactly what exactly they expected the Terran Alliance to do about this. “You provide me an out of context video for a random Terran, and expect us to magically provide them. We will investigate this claim, then we will consider your ‘demand’”.

“Demand may have been the wrong statement. Notification is more pertinent. We will not let such an action stand, and merely believe in allowing one to fix their mistakes before our own intervention. Do we make ourselves clear?”

It was crystal clear exactly what the Raha was trying. Manufacturing justification. This wasn’t a request or even something they expected the Terrans to do, they just wanted it on record that they had attempted to work with the Terrans before making their own move. Such simple diplomacy wouldn’t work on most, but it might convince a few more neutral factions to stay out of any “kerfuffle”.

It also made clear the next action that Jan and his team needed to take. They needed to find whoever was on that video first before the Estorians did.

Before the Estorians did something very very stupid.

—-------------

The three fingered hands of the Zorthian gripped slightly to Amander's arm, Fluur giving a small grunt of pain as he gingerly lowered himself into the medicated bath, an expression of relief filling his face as he finally sat down. The hastily constructed pool and best guess Zorthian medication wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing.

They were back on the “A Shining Star '', having intercepted their vessel unpiloted trajectory and letting the previous slaves take control of the Estorian ship; providing them with the fastest directions to Terran space. In the five days since then, Amander had spent her time fixing up what remained to be fixed of her crippled vessel, working out their next move, and taking care of Fluur.

The damage the Amphibian had was worse than she’d originally seen. The lack of proper access to water for three weeks had done extensive damage to the skin, drying and damaging the normally soft and translucent blue hide, causing it to split and break with any movement. The cuts, bruises and broken bones would heal, but the fins and skin might not.

They had been doing their best, but DRAKE lacked any real medical knowledge on Zorthian biology, having to make a educated guess through trial and error.

Amander spent a few moments pouring and gently rubbing the purple liquid into hard to reach spots, muttering soft words of encouragement. The injuries had thankfully been getting better over the days, if slower than she would have wanted. Apart from one injury. It was an injury that manifested itself in several ways: in the way Fluur currently sat hunched, in the way he’d wake up screaming in the night. In his eyes.

Every time Amander saw his eyes, she wanted to go back and shoot the bastard who had done this again. The purple orbs had once been filled with curiosity, with a stubborn determination that had given Fluur the courage to remain by the communicator up until the end. Now they were dull, now they were broken.

“Now Imma gonna give you some privacy to soak.” Amander dried her hands as she slowly turned to leave the jurry rigged pool. “When you wanna get out just give me a holla ok?”

“Amander?” The Terran gave a pause as the small frail voice of Fluur sounded out. “Thank you.”

“Don’t you mention it sweetheart”. Amander gave a warm smile in response, a tinge of sadness creeping in around the eyes. “Now you go get some rest.”

—--------------

The Terran stood in front of the command panel, inputting the next step on their path, another seemingly random location. Of course, Amander and DRAKE knew it wasn’t random, but instead years of training in how to avoid someone who might be looking for you.

“Fluur seems to be responding better to the latest treatment.” A visual hologram of DRAKE appeared in the room, his chosen representation being a black Chinese dragon, spinning and circling around itself in one spot. “Though not being able to dock and get aid at the closest Terran Alliance location is sub-optimal for his recovery.”

“Yes I know that. You don’t keep having to mention it. I get it, I fucked up!” Amander angrily ran a hand through her hair before inputting the final commands, causing the ship to re-enter warp. “You don’t have to be so passive aggressive bout it!”

“Not being able to contact authorities for help is not optimal. Possibly starting a war is also not optimal”

She knew that the AI was right. The fact that they couldn’t just drop into the nearest Terran Alliance port and get Fluur better help was a huge hindrance: Partly because it would make it easier for the Raha to find them, and partly because there was no guarantee that a bureaucrat somewhere wouldn’t just hand them over to the Estorian Empire to avoid a war. It was unlikely, but governments had done shiftier things.

“I’m sorry. I just… when the bastard was talking about being entertained….”

“I have no love lost for the dead prince. It was satisfying seeing karma be dispensed. I would also be lying if I did not expect this result. Your brand of chaos is surprisingly predictable. I just wish there was a better plan than flying randomly around in a half broken vessel.”

“Oh this ain’t random.” Amander gets a more excited smile at the thought of visiting an old friend. “We’re gettin help from an old friend. We’re gonna visit Spot.”

—---------------

The screaming and whimpering had stopped, much to Lut’har’s annoyance and displeasure. The Raha looked down at the small pink lizard now lying motionless in front of him, wrenching out the knife he’d been using to cut pieces off of the subservient. He gave the now useless corpse a kick, watching it slump over as it joined the five others. Lut’har’s antenna twitched with annoyance as he turned to the other subservients in the room, watching the collection of worthless species shiver and tremble against the might of a Raha.

“Useless”.

Five days ago a most heinous crime had been committed, prince Hakthas had been murdered by a Terran. Lut’har didn’t much care for the cavorting prince, but caring for them individually was not his duty. He was head of the Int’ch Elite guard, an unwavering disciple of Int’ch; the Sun god who had long ago decreed that the warming light of the sun was only fit for the Raha. His job was to ensure the prosperity of the Raha royal house, no matter who was in charge.

Which made the murder very much his problem.

Lut’har took a moment to wipe his blade clean storing it back within the folds of his clothes, the loops of fabric coming in bright oranges and reds, depicting their homeworld’s sun. Finding the royal barge had been easy: It had been making a beeline for Terran space; making intercepting it child's play. However getting to the next level of the burrow… had been harder.

All data banks had been wiped, no security records existed, even the discarded fired kinetic ammunition the Terrans liked so much had been removed. Apart from the call to the Royal treasury and the various bullet holes in the walls from the Terran’s destructive power, there was no evidence at all as to who had committed the attack on the Raha.

Well, all apart from one thing: They had left the subservients untouched.This was why Lut’har disliked Terrans. If they were just another weakling subservient race he would understand it, but Terrans… had so much potential. So close to greatness, yet choosing to throw it away at the last moment. They had utterly destroyed the Hatil, planet cracking a colony before… just stopping. They had formed one of the bigger alliances in the galaxy in a mere 70 years, but then did nothing with it. Here they had executed an almost perfect attack on the royal guard, but then let their empathy stop them from finishing the job.

Had they have just killed everyone on the ship, he would have no more information then a grub in the dark. But instead he, and the four elite Int’ch guard he had brought with him, now stood in front of the room of quivering pathetic subservients, using the usual methods to get the information they wanted.

Lut’har started to reach for the next unfortunate soul, a brown furred mammal who whimpered and pulled back, before stopping. He whispered a few words to one of his men, the elite guard leaving for a few minutes before returning with a container of impulse engine fuel, and a plasma torch.

“I apologise to all of you. I just realised my mistake. I’m treating you like intelligent people.” Lut’har popped the cap of the container off in one swift movement, never removing his gaze from the huddled pile.

“If a Raha was in your position, they would know the information. If a Hagorthian was in your position, they would know the information. I’d even bet a Terran would know what information I need”.

Thew Raha started methodically pouring the liquid over the group of subjugates, the flammable liquid quickly filling the room with a sharp pungent smell, as shouts of terror and panic started to fill the room.

“But you’re not any of those things. You are all worthless, pathetic, unworthy of the light given by Int’ch. But together, maybe, if Int’ch wills it, you can make up one intelligent person. So let's have a group exercise.”

Lut’har finished emptying the container, before lighting the plasma torch with a flourish, causing the fuel soaked subjugates to panic even further.

“What do you know about the Terran who murdered the late prince Hakthas?”

Information started pouring in, snippets of anything each of the slaves had seen or heard about their saviours. Most of it was useless, he knew the Terran was female, he knew what she looked like. But a few pieces of pertinent information came through in the rush,

“I saw their ship's name… I think it was called Star!”

“No, it was called A Shining star!”

“They had an AI, they called it DRAKE.”

“The prisoner's name was Fluur”.

“They said he was a Zorthian.”

“The Terran, they called her Amander.”

Lut’har raised up his hand for silence, clicking his fingers together into a tapping noise of positive appreciation.

“See, that wasn’t so hard. Why, if I close my eyes and listen, you all almost sound like one intelligent person.”

Lut’har turned to leave, he had what he needed: Names, a ship name. More enough information to start tracking them down. He then stopped before completely leaving the room, giving a disappointed clack of his mandibles, a sound that caused a deep terror in the slaves behind him.

“Still, you have all failed in your duty. The Raha dragged you from the dark of your hovels into the loving light of Int’ch. You had one task: To serve prince Hakthas, a task you have all failed at. For this, punishment is required.”

Lut’har tossed the lit plasma touch behind him.

Cleansing the failures in Int’ch’s burning fire.