LF Friends, Will Travel

“Wait, let me see if I understand this?”

Zantari asked the question with a level of confusion, their mammalian form’s little brown floppy ears waving in a questioning motion. They weren’t quite sure exactly what kind of story they were expecting to hear from the Hatil sat in front of them, but it hadn’t been the one that had been told.

The little cream-coloured teddy bear like Hatil diplomat was dressed in a nicely tailored navy blue suit.To the other Hatil, she looked distinguished and professional. On the other hand, any Terrans around would have considered her absolutely adorable, with a near irresistible urge to give the walking plush toy a hug. Zantari personally didn't care what the Hatil wore, considering the Ghirlinn were a race that could now change their biology at will, with clothing as barely an afterthought..

“So, the Terrans reawakened from their stasis, and without doing any proper research, your people started a war with the explicit goal of killing every Terran you found.””

“Yes, much to our eternal shame. We ignorantly feared the rise of a new AI race.”

The Hatil were nothing special in the galaxy, hardly considered a FTL capable species. There is a flaw with the early type of FTL travel most species use, that while folding space to create a shorter path to travel through was efficient, there was nothing stopping you from appearing in the middle of something, often destroying both things.

Most species realized the danger of any idiot with a warp engine being able to reappear within the core of your home world, and quickly developed disruptors to pre-fold space within certain locales to stop such a thing from happening. The Hatil had decided upon a different strategy: aggressive isolation, and demanding all other species avoid their small patch of space. After a thousand years, nothing really changed for them on the galactic scale. Sure, governments, language, and culture shifted, but all within their unmoving territory. The only reason they hadn’t been conquered by another race was simply because nobody else wanted to risk being neighbours with an unknown AI species.

“So then you launch a surprise attack against several outposts and their diplomatic vessel, your only victories in the war mind you, as pyrrhic as they are. The Terrans, unsurprisingly considering that their AI had been researching and upgrading their technologies over the last ten thousand years, completely trash your armies, including destroying one of your colonies.”

“Completely justifiably of course, we were the aggressors against those who just wanted friendship.”

That brought them to their next topics: among which included their technology. The station Zantari was at was a lot nicer than the Ghirlinn had expected from a Hatil maintained creation, with a far higher standard of technology than they remembered the little teddies having.

Setting up the meeting itself had been slightly annoying, the military outpost at the edge of Terran Alliance territory being one of the few Hatil locations that didn't have a major Terran presence. It was also a relatively new addition, proof of the Hatil’s increased power and logistics to create such a place within the last three years. Zantari was just glad that the general power of the Ghirlinn meant that most diplomats would meet them at any place of their choosing, whether that was their homeworld, or a random isolated outpost.

“So after you attempted a war of eradication against the Terrans, and lost, they…” Zantari gave a sigh as they tried to get their head around it. “Left you with full autonomy, provided aid for the war you started, shared their technology with you, and created a major galactic alliance around the pair of you, of which you are currently the second-largest military power?”

The Ghirlinn were not sore winners, as they had plenty of experience with various weaker aggressive species who had tried to take them on for various reasons of religion, culture, or just pure arrogance. Slavery or eradication was more effort than it was worth, but at the very least the Ghirlinn would take their weapons and put them under new administration. For a few generations, until they learned ‘Not to do it again’. Sadly for the Ghirlinn, the fact that so many either didn’t seem to learn or got worse in regimes afterwards didn’t seem to connect in their mind.

But the Terrans seemed to respond to the Hatil’s poorly implemented attempt at genocide with an emotion of slight annoyance, giving the Hatil aid and uplifting them to a technology level that was above average in the Galaxy.

“No no no, the army is a new thing, and not permanent. As soon as the war is over, we will be dismantling our forces again. We have only militarized to aid the Terrans.”

It was an impressive military, especially considering what Zantari had been expecting based on what they remembered of the Hatil. The fleet parked around this outpost was rather extensive: thousands of vessels, swarms of automated drones, more power than a lot of civilizations could muster. The idea that the Hatil would truly give up this power was one Zantari would have to see to believe, not that they cared that much either way.

“That's not my question. My question is… Why would the Terrans do that?”

It was risky, illogical and adorable in equal parts, the little Terrans giving those who tried to kill them a metaphorical pat on the head and asking them nicely not to do it again. A burning desire erupted within Zantari, to protect the bumbling primates from their own naive actions.

This was going to be a problem in the future, other Ghirlinn kidnapping Terrans to give them protection…

“I'll be honest, we don't know. The Terrans had every right to destroy us for our unforgivable actions, but they chose not to. All we can do is attempt to use their mercy and forgiveness, each day proving that choice was the correct one.”

Naive or not, it seemingly had worked out for the Terrans. The Hatil were unrecognizable, their old culture, even down to their dress and names, assimilated and replaced by the Terrans. To turn an initial enemy into steadfast allies, in such a short period of time, was an impressive feat.

Zantari would never get to finish that thought however, as an alarm sounded out, the sirens causing both parties in the meeting room to look around in shock. It took only a few moments for another Hatil to burst through the doors with an aura of worry, whispering something urgently to the diplomat as the Ghirlinn looked on.

“I’m sorry, we need to cut this meeting short. I’ve been informed of an incoming Estorian fleet. I would advise you to leave immediately, I’ll escort you to your ship.”

“Ah, that’s unfortunate, we’ll have to continue this another day.”

Zantari slowly got up, taking a moment to give a large and overexaggerated stretch, a feeling of annoyance and anger being hidden behind his careful appearance. They didn’t like the Estorians. They didn’t like any of the five races, bullies and generally nasty people didn’t sit right with them at all. Unfortunately, Zantari couldn’t get involved unless certain circumstances were met, the Hatil would be left to their own defences.

Which was why Zantari was in no great rush to leave, because they had a plan.

They followed the Hatil diplomat at a slow walking pace, being escorted back through the military outpost as chaos reigned supreme around them; various Hatil sprung into action, running to and fro, getting ready whatever tasks they needed for the upcoming defence, alarms still blaring as they prepared for war.

“Um, we should pick up the pace, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt and the enemy is incoming.”

“I’m moving, we’ll get there when we get there.”

The Hatil diplomat was clearly worried and having the most professional panic attack in the universe, visions of what the repercussions would be if this diplomatic member of a technologically superior species were to be hurt, or even worse, killed. The Ghirlinn were a scary species from the outside; while nobody knew exactly what they could do, it was clear they were playing on another level. The Hatil didn’t want to be responsible for one of their citizen’s deaths.

Zantari on the other hand, wasn’t worried at all, walking along at a slow meandering pace as the Hatil lead the way with a panicked energy, painfully aware of every minute passing in this most terrifying and annoying of escort quests, turning back around to silently urge on the Ghirlinn to move a little bit faster. Not that they were planning on rushing away, just slow gradual progress to justify what was probably going to happen next.

Eventually, the pair made their way back to the small docking bay where Zantari had left their ship, a sea of moving Hatil getting ships ready and taking off with great speed. At the centre of it stood the Ghirlinn’s vessel. It was small compared with the other ships parked in the bay, a simple one-seater vessel with some dimensional trickery to make it larger on the inside than the outside. Rounded off lines made of bright cream painted metal gave it the appearance of almost being drawn, flowing lines coming together into an oblong shape and the three points of the landing gear it currently stood on.

“Well, we’re here, I hope for your safe travels. If you leave now you should still be able to avoid the attack.”

“Certainly. Thank you for your time, and good luck with the defence.”

Zantari did legitimately wish the Hatil diplomat success as they watched the panicked teddy bear rush off to wherever she was needed. Even if their plan didn’t work, they hoped the Hatil would prevail against their foes, especially ones as terrible as the five races of the Estorians. Zantari couldn’t stand slavers, but one of the more annoying sides of being neutral was remaining neutral.

Sure, the vessel Zantari owned could easily take out the entire Estorian fleet, and within a week the Ghirlinn as a whole could destroy or subjugate all five ‘empires’: as if a set of species who had conquered less than 50 other races in total could be considered an ‘empire’. But there were rules to follow, rules that if broken could have wide-ranging consequences.

Not that this meant that Zantari couldn’t do anything. It just meant you had to know how to fiddle with the system, predict what people would do and act accordingly. The Ghirlinn sat in their ship, taking their time to slowly go through the proper taking off procedures while the rest of the Hatil outpost erupted into activity.

“This is Flight Control. The Ghirlinn vessel needs to leave immediately or you’re going to be trapped in the crossfire. There are an estimated five thousand incoming Estorian warships”

The sound of a very stressed Hatil flight controller broadcasted from the ship’s communications, as Zantari continued to slowly get ready to take off. They ignored the very adamant warning that Zantari needed to leave right now. They knew what was approaching, in fact the ship’s sensors gave an accurate reading of 5317 warship level vessels approaching. Based on what the Ghirlinn could estimate the battle would be close due to the similar resources of both sides.

Normally the checks Zantari were doing were to be done by the ship’s computer, but it was always a good idea to occasionally do these checks manually, just to be safe. As the minutes ticked by the ship’s communicator would periodically sound out more warnings, presumably exceptionally worried about this external diplomat being caught in the attack. Which was exactly what the Ghirlinn wanted.

Eventually, after wasting half an hour of time, Zantari ran out of reasons to remain. So they simply guided the ship to leave the docking bay, much to the Hatil’s general relief. From this position they could see the relatively impressive military outpost, and the fleet preparing for their defences. More importantly, far in the distance on their ship’s sensors, they could see the Estorian’s fleet, who had arrived in equal measure.

Zantari took a moment to note that the Estorian’s forces were made up of four of the five races that made up their terrible empire, which was strange considering they avoided working with each other. Regardless, they simply sped forwards towards their destination, leaving the Hatil defensive lines behind and just so happening to travel towards the Estorian lines on their way towards their next destination, who were now blocking the Ghirlinn’s path.

Oh no. I am totally trapped by these people I don’t like. Whatever shall I do!

The first step was always diplomacy. Zantari hailed the lead vessel of the fleet to attempt a parley. With rising annoyance Zantari noted they were when they were refusing to respond to the hail, which was just rude. Giving sigh they pressed a few buttons, forcing the other side to pickup the call, a Hagorthian crew appearing on their screen, the giant towering vicious reptiles looking incredibly shocked that Zantari had forced this communication from their end.

“Hello dear Estorian representatives. I am a neutral third party diplomat, Zantari of the Ghirlinn, and have nothing to do with your war. I request you allow me to move past your very ‘scary army’, thank you.”

Zantari wasn’t really trapped, there were several technologies on the ship that allowed them to reach FTL travel without needing the Estorian fleet to move out of the way. But it was considered bad practice to use those technologies in front of other people. If you showed people that the impossible was possible, then they tended to start having ideas. Zantari patiently waited as the Hagorthian crew ignored their very reasonable request, snarling and shouting at each other at how this ‘Weakling’ had managed to infiltrate their systems, before the communication between the two was cut off once more from the Hagorthian’s side.

Most species, apart from the Terrans it seemed, were exceptionally predictable. In the Estorian’s case, they were a set of aggressive arrogant slaving arseholes, meaning when faced with a single presumably defenseless third party with the audacity to ask for safe passage, they did the most predictable thing.

They attacked.

The barrage started out slow, a handful of vessels firing upon the lone Ghirlinn ship, increasing in intensity as the initial barrage of fire had no effect on the single person fighter. More and more of the fleet aimed their weapons at this single intruder which stood tall and unaffected, until half the invading force were concentrating their fire in a kaleidoscope of ship to ship ammunition.

Inside the vessel, Zantari gave a yawn, watching the ship’s status display with a complete lack of worry at the fleet who had attacked them with absolutely zero provocation.

Shield’s power: 99.9%

Zantari gave a small smile as the effectiveness of their ships' shields dipped slightly. This was what they were waiting for, that change meant that Zantari was officially ‘in danger’. That if left long enough, this fleet would eventually deplete their ship’s defences and lead to destruction. The fact that this fleet probably hadn't brought enough ammunition for that didn’t matter. Zantari was under attack due to no fault of their own, was in danger, and therefore they were now allowed to strike back.

Appearing in their paw, manifesting out of seeming nowhere, was a small chrome spherical baseball sized device. Zantari pressed a few hidden buttons on the side, before speaking clearly for later logs.

“Creation Engine usage log. I, Zantari, was at an official diplomatic meeting with the Hatil of the Milky Way Galaxy, interrupted when they were attacked by the Estorian Empire: with whom they are at war. I attempted to leave, but was limited in my movement by the attacking force. Ships logs will show I attempted diplomacy, which they rejected and attacked with no provocation, causing minor shield damage. Standard defensive response will be given.”

It happened in an instant, a blinding flash of light seen for light-years emitted from the device and the Ghirlinn’s ship. In one moment the Estorian fleet remained in all its glory, firing upon the innocent vessel, in the next, they were gone. Only the lead ship remained, as it was only fair to allow one surviving crew to bring back the message that the Ghirlinn were a neutral third party and not to be attacked.

There were no series of explosions or watching the Estorian vessels be twisted and torn apart into nothingness. They were just gone, removed from creation in a moment, their atoms reduced back into the energies that made them up; leaving only heat, light and the memories of what they once were behind.

It was annoying having to go through this song and dance, to bait this fleet into attacking them for no reason. Zantari would love to spend their time wiping out this ‘empire’, but there were rules to follow, rules made for good reason. Sure it wouldn’t be hard to start aiding this Terran alliance, but then what?

Others might get involved, once the Ghirlinn’s actions told the universe that this war was fair game for those of their technological prowess to interact with. The Illundrai would probably be willing to aid the Estorians, due to their general ideology where pain and suffering was the entire reason for existence, which wouldn’t bode well for the Terrans. The Yel Consortium would just change things on both sides to make it more chaotic, because randomness is interesting to them. Of course, while the Raha sun god Int’ch had long since disowned her children for their actions, someone on the level of the Ghirlinn turning up and kicking her creation’s teeth in might be enough to get her involved again.

Then there was the possibility of such an action sparking into an actual war between such powers, which wouldn’t bode well for either the Estorian Empire or Terran Alliance trapped in the middle. The entire upper percentile of the universe’s powers was held together with tenuous agreements, treaties, and general rules of play. No, learning about the secrets of reality just made one thing abundantly clear: In the infinitely sized pond which was the universe, there was always a bigger fish. Attracting attention was never a good idea.

Zantari watched as the lead and now singular Estorian vessel hung around in confusion, before finally doing the smart thing and fleeing, a feeling of satisfaction washing over them at the feeling of a job well done. They could see several attempts at contact from the Hatil, who were probably very confused as to what had just happened, which Zantari ignored. They didn’t want to explain what had just happened, as that might start them expecting such interactions in the future.

So instead, they just left, heading towards their next destination unimpeded, feeling good about themselves. There were plenty of reasons for Ghirlinn to hate the Estorians and what they did, especially since they were at war with the adorable Terrans. A concerning thought crossed their mind at the realization that a hated empire was going to end up even more hated among the Ghirlinn after they realized they were at war with the cute primates of Terra.

Huh, I wonder if Ghirlinn illegally aiding the Terrans is going to become a problem…