I lie down on the bed in the medical bay. I sigh and once again ask,

"Are you sure I can't take a shot of whiskey? At least for the nerves?"

Josef shakes his head and responds with his usual borderline demented smile,

"No Mein Friend. We do not know ze problems that could come from excessive alcohol consumption with the treatment."

I cuss but don't say anything more and rest my head on the military-grade scratchy pillow. All of the medical staff and Josef had already been cured of the curse so they needed another test subject and being the only other person in the know I volunteered. The only reason for this is because no one is willing to have the curse placed back upon them. I am only hesitant now because half of my body looks like melted cheese because of my exposure to alien radiation. As a forethought, they did a test to see if I had the curse still due to my exposure. They found it in abundance as expected, only part of my body was exposed, hence why I am still alive and not a pile of goo.

With that, I am covered in all kinds of medical sensors and have a few tubes shoved into my arms, and a few of my cybernetic attachment points are hooked into Josef's console. I get to have the very fun experience of a high-pitched sound ringing inside my head for a few seconds as he had forgotten to actually turn on the damn thing before hooking me up, which he apologizes for as I glare at him. I guess it's good they have me for this test due to my naval captain implants.

The series of ports running along my spine and hooking into my neck and head are standard for all Navy captains or higher officers. They allow us, in combat scenarios to completely become one with the ship. The sensors become like our own senses, the optics of weapons become our eyes, and the hull of this ship our skin. It's hard to explain because it doesn't feel exactly like that of course, but it allows for more perfect control of all systems, if needed, but it's main usage is so a commanding officer can immediately have all tactical data in their mind and using onboard computers run multiple simulations in our heads. Along with this, the connected commanding officer can more quickly give orders to different crew members. While it may seem useless to still allow others to control different systems on the ship it is sorta needed because running a whole ship can be overwhelming for most people, including myself sometimes, especially with newer vessels, all kinds of new bells and whistles.

Recently the technology has adapted to where new commanding officers don't need physical attachments to do this, meaning they don't have to clean out random metal holes on them like I do. Unfortunately for me I still have to stick a cable into myself to enter this full control state and my wireless capabilities are limited.

A very good feature of the ports is the medical data that can be extracted, since it's a machine hooked into my nervous system, it can get readings right from the source. Thus making me a perfect medical research guinea pig.

It takes a while for everything to become ready before Phillia is put into position over my bed. She holds out her hands which begin to glow. An aura of light surrounds me and the medical readouts show my slowly growing stress. I am not afraid per se but I am not excited about potentially having the other half of my body melted.

The light show continues for a bit and Josef asks,

"Phillia, what is the problem?"

She responds with a grunt,

"All of this metal in his body. It messes with my magic, the sheer volume is unlike anything I've seen. Should be a few more minutes..."

After that period of time she says,

"I have it targeted, at your command Doctor."

Josef smiles and nods. The aura disappears and suddenly there are sunspots in my vision and my internal computers warn of damage to my body. I feel dozens of tiny holes burn into my flesh and my heart rate increases rapidly. I grit my teeth and don't make a sound as it feels like fire coursing through my veins. Then suddenly it stops and a ghostly shape carries what looks to be dust into a nearby bucket. Then the medical equipment helpfully informs everyone that I now have cancer and multiple 3rd-degree burns, so the surgery begins...

About three hours later and a clean bill of health I sit in the canteen eating a grilled cheese and tomato soup. I am a little sore all over, especially after the surgery machine slammed a drill right into some of my internal metal bits. I'll probably be sore for a good few days, which usually happens when cybernetics are jostled. The repaired burns seem to have healed well enough, and no one could differentiate the new scars from the mess that is my torso.

After my treatment, Phillia seemed really upset and disgusted about all the metal that my body is comprised of. She asked a few questions to the medical officers but after a few answers, she seemingly turned green and had to leave the room. I think when they described my reconstructed digestive system it really began bothering her. It is kinda gross to me too and I don't like thinking about the hybrid system that my guts are now. Half metal or composite and half good ol smooth muscle from cloned tissue. Unfortunately at the time cloning my flesh was not easy due to the fun little fact radiation pokes holes in DNA, so in order to enhance the effectiveness of my sickly organs they made me into a metal man.

With my treatment over I don't know how to feel. I am relieved of course, knowing I am cured of the curse for now, because I can still become cursed again in the event of coming into contact with the prion again. I also feel a bit sad, remembering all the people I knew who passed from the curse and the familiar feeling of survivor guilt is within me as well. I can't help but wonder why I was spared this end while all those others had to pass. I let my mind wander for a moment before I collect myself, flush it and when my meal is done I head back to the bridge.

On the bridge, I am pinged by a message through the FTL communications. I open the message as it was designated for my eyes only. It reads,

"The president has been informed of your cure. The president has requested that it become your top priority to gain unlimited access to the potential cure. Offer whatever you feel would make for an equitable deal with the local authority."

My nameless contact ends the message abruptly but I have my orders. I remember now, that the current president is of a more anti-war faction in politics and led to the equitable ending of the last war. I also remember they lost their very young child to the curse, so they will absolutely be driven to cure their still-living loved ones. I understand their desperation, but I hope they can keep their diplomatic head on them when we receive the answer that I know we will.

I message Shariah that we now have orders from the president, to double her efforts and to begin offering trades. With the message sent I try to ignore the growing lump in my gut, something is going to go wrong...

A week passes with no ground gained on the diplomatic end. Josef has concluded that the treatment is entirely viable and according to his current understanding, it has no lasting side effects. I doubt the research is actually done, and we definitely need that research vessel to figure out everything. I sent this information back home over the course of a few days and got no response. Shariah is clearly growing more and more frustrated with her dealings with the aliens. I think the inquisitor guy is rather stubborn.

According to her reports, the inquisitor is 100% convinced there is nothing we can offer them that isn't bending the knee to their kingdom. His arguments boil down to,

"Even if you have something we want, we would have it all the same if you became part of the kingdom."

This is not a possible outcome. At best we are peer nations in the galaxy and at worst we have them outclassed, the magic factor doesn't fall into any normal metrics so I can't say for certain who is really outclassed, as potentially magic grants them an edge that I have yet to see.

Command back home is aware of this roadblock and of course, accepting those terms is completely off the table. We were given the authority to go as far to share nuclear energy and potentially weapons with them if it grants us unlimited access to their magic to heal us of our curse. I don't know exactly what Shariah is asking for, whether it is the ability to hire them for services, which is a reasonable request, or asking for them to do it out of kindness or something. In my mind, it would benefit us both if we were allowed to load a few thousand of their mages onto a ship and send them home for a few months then send them home and rotate them out. This seems like the best solution and we are absolutely willing to pay for whatever they ask, just not our autonomy.

The President is apparently really pushing me hard to get a deal done or at least framed before the relief fleet gets here. I understand but don't at the same time for this desperation. I get wanting to cure this curse, to solve one of the major issues plaguing humanity, but I don't think the logistics for the cure are exactly the most doable. While I can see how there could be mass healings, the problem with prions is they have to be entirely eradicated or just through existence they will come back. An infected person could cough on a doorknob and it will be tainted for years with no amount of standard disinfectant able to clean it. Anything less than incineration. If the cure the alien magic produces could be made into a pill I think this push would be much more reasonable. I get it, but I am a military man, logistics are an important part of any operation, ones of death or of healing.

I have a meeting scheduled with Shariah to see her progress and to help her brainstorm. I have watched her EVA suits helmet camera footage of her negotiations and it just seems so... awful. The inquisitor is one hundred percent confident that we are lesser and of course, looks down on Shariah even though she is acting on my orders. The social ranking system of the Eternal Kingdom appears to be a massive roadblock. The only solution I see immediately is for me to once more meet with him, and with a little more tact than before try to big-dick him into compliance.

Sitting down with Shariah at one of the galley tables, she is scarfing down an early supper of breaded pork chops. She had been planetside for the entire day and due to the radioactive nature of alien space, her only sustenance was water. She is a hungry girl right now, so I let her eat before we get into business. This is a decent place to talk as the galley is empty aside from the cooks who are clanking away loudly alongside the many automated cooking systems.

As she finishes her last swallow as I sip on an afternoon coffee she says,

"This entire thing is stupid..."

I raise my eyebrows and she continues,

"This negotiation is not going to get us anywhere. They don't know they want what we have and what we are offering, and the problem is their foreign policy is expansionist at best. I think the only reason there hasn't been a threat of war is that we are so far away. I think even their most zealous like the inquisitor can tell that would be a near logistical impossibility at the moment like it would be for us.

While I do not see war as the answer here, since it is considered the final option of diplomacy it looks like it's the only option."

I respond,

"War is off the table. We do not want war."

Shariah nods and with a sigh answers,

"I know, that was an over-exaggeration. I am so fucking tired of dealing with that golden asshole. The problem is that he is a religious zealot and we have come to understand that their king and kingdom are holy entities. Their creed is to assimilate all intelligent life and civilization as some sort of grand duty. It is dogma, not politics we are arguing against, and that is difficult. Unfortunately, it appears their religion is not a diplomatic one, it is a fire and brimstone one. Apparently we have lasted the longest when it comes to either joining them or going to war with them, and they have yet to get their nose bloodied by any other civilization they have met... as far as we know."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I shake my head and set my steaming cup down after burning my mouth for the third time. I offer,

"Maybe we are approaching diplomacy wrong here? We could possibly go gather some gifts from the nearby asteroids and offer gold and other shiny things to the guy. Basically grease the deal with a bribe? Make it seem like tribute or just gifts out of goodwill. Other than that all I can see is for us to try and strong-arm them, use the political capital we gained by devastating that rebel army.

I don't know, I'm a naval officer, not a diplomat. The most I was trained in was gunboat diplomacy, so if it comes to that I can try to help with that, but this situation doesn't seem to be the kind where that would go over well."

We sit there silently for a while unsure of our next words or plan of action. I then ask,

"Have you shown videos of demonstrations of the technology we may offer as compensation?"

Shariah stares at me for a moment with an unreadable expression before violently slamming her head into both of her hands. She yells into her palms, the sound muffled and when she is done she looks up and says in a defeated voice,

"I have neglected to do so... I have been avoiding utilizing too much technology around the aliens... I never take any form of video device with me... How could I be so stupid?"

I can't help but laugh at the hopeless woman and she buries her face once more, this time out of embarrassment. I sigh standing up and I walk around the table to pat her on the back. I leave her to her little breakdown, the plan not needing to be explained from there. All she needs to do is bring a video device down to the planet to actually show our technology in action. While I don't know how effective it will be, I have a feeling the Inquisitor will be far more receptive when shown all the wonders of our technological society, or at the very least entertain him enough to be easier to talk to...

After another 24-hour period of talks, I am pulled from a conversation I am having with one of the gunnery officers by a call from Shariah who is planetside at the moment. I answer it after dismissing the other man. Shariah opens the conversation,

"Commodore, I have finished a long round of talks and negotiations with the Inquisitor. I have used visual examples of what technology we would trade for access to the cure...or at least the ability to hire people to implement the cure. The Inquisitor seemed quite interested now that showed examples, but he has stated that he will not continue talks unless he speaks with you."

I cuss and respond,

"Tell him to wait a day or so, I don't want to do this talk, but I'm going to contact command back home to explain the situation further and request... well, I'm going to ask for an more official declaration from the president or someone more... important than me."

Shariah responds quickly,

"I will do as you ask. I also agree with your idea, lets finally just get a position set in stone from the government."

The call disconnects and I begin drafting a message back home...

A message returns within a few hours of me sending mine out. It reads,

"Due to unfortunate events, we are requesting that your talk should be nearing finality for your fleet and group. It is recommended that your talk be one of mutual understanding and trying to garner sympathy with extreme compensation being offered for access to their resources. If your talk fails, break off engagement and await the relief fleet, further orders, and actions will be taken from there."

I sigh after reading the message and head out to get an EVA suit on. The whole while I am formulating a speech, and unfortunately I let memories and experiences help weave the words I will say...

The meeting room is as cozy and ornate as I remember. I sit across from the golden man as he sips on a chalice of something. He then starts our conversation,

"Commodore... Hollander... I am glad you have come down to meet with me. I understand your station is not one of diplomacy or statecraft as you are a warrior. While our last meeting... was quite frustrating in some sense I look back on it fondly now as your lack of tact or adherence to any form of proper etiquette made it where I was able to truly understand your intentions. It's how you warrior types talk and I find it endearing.

As for your diplomatic underling, she is quite long-winded and for the longest time, I believed her to be a creative author or playwright with the seemingly impossible...technologies she said your people offer. I now know there was quite a lot of truth in her words, but to really face the truth I feel your tongue will share the real answers... or at least make things properly clear."

Wanting to be polite at first since this is a meeting he called I ask,

"Please Lord Inquisitor, Ask away. I am happy to clear up any unintentional untruths my subordinate has told you."

He thinks for a moment and asks rather bluntly,

"Tell me, are the technologies she offered truly real?"

I pull up a log of what Shariah had offered and respond,

"Yes, she has spoken the truth as I have told her. Unfortunately, she didn't give visual examples of these technologies because it had slipped her mind that she could do so."

The Inquisitor laughs and he interjects,

"So it is a lesser's lack of proper insight? I apologize, please continue."

I nod inside my helmet and continue,

"Our peoples have gone down different paths when it comes to how our societies progressed. This is due to our differences in... mana... but it has allowed us to reach similar heights. The ability to travel the stars as well as the ability to never be wanting for basic needs. The difference is that we had to progress in different ways in response to the natural worlds we found ourselves placed in. Like how some worlds the avian species create society and in others reptiles.

Both of our nations are dominant in our respective parts of the stars.

What we offer may have an alternative in your society of course, but due to our different pressures and societal issues we both have different methods and in some places, we each hold an advantage over one another.

For example, after researching your people we have found that your agricultural systems are quite advanced, but lack the ability to support truly ludicrous populations. It was explained to us that your people rear meat-bearing animals through processes of accelerated breeding utilizing mana, but this is limited by space for grazing for many of these creatures.

We in contrast have a long time ago developed and refined a process of cultivating livestock without constraints of grazing area on worlds, we have developed a method of producing meat without even needing to rear an animal, growing the flesh in specialized facilities. These processes create good high-quality meat at scales impossible to fathom at times even on worlds or moons where there isn't even a tuft of green grass to eat.

Of course the higher in society or just happen to be born on worlds with ample grazing room there are more traditionally reared animals for the purpose of even higher quality of meat, bother perceived and sometimes in actuality.

This technology is a boon to you not in the sense of your palate but for that of your common folk."

At the last statement, he seems to grimace in disdain but remains interested so I keep going,

"While I know it seems strange to develop something where the peasantry or other common roles are able to eat a hearty meal of meat every day, there are advantages.

I want you to imagine a society where your poor laborers are all healthy and possibly quite happy. Imagine how much quicker and more efficiently they can do their menial tasks if their muscles are allowed to develop. Our society decided this was worth the effort, if everyone eats well enough it does wonderful things for even those in upper positions.

First, the healthier common folk can work longer days, carry heavier objects, and complain less as their bellies are filled with good meals. Second, a population fed properly breeds at a much higher rate. These two things work together to create a large populace of efficient and grateful workers. There is less need for your mages to assist the commoners in their daily tasks allowing for further focus on magical studies."

He thinks for a moment before asking me,

"I do see the advantages, your explanation was far greater than that of your subordinate. She had explained that technology as one to feed us in higher society and I feared for your honor that you may have eaten nothing but... facility-grown meat."

I chuckle and respond,

"No, I prefer my meat to be grazed and properly reared. It makes a great difference."

He laughs and nods for a moment and says,

"That technology would be quite... impressive. A society where the commoners can have a daily meal of meat, what a novel concept but it still makes sense why you would develop it. I definitely would prefer a kingdom where the commoners were able to function at even a fraction of the lowest mage. I tire of stories of missed production quotas in mines and farms."

I nod completely ignoring the cultural differences. The Inquisitor is thoughtful for a while before he asks in a serious tone,

"Now tell me, Commodore... Your subordinate offered a technology best described as a portable sun. She explained it that your people use it as both a weapon and as a method for powering your society. Is this real?"

I think about it for a moment before responding,

"Yes. Like I said we have a novel form of mana compared to yours and it has a few limitations that we had to get around in special ways. I believe the captive suns would boost your efficiency if we can find a way to integrate it into your society."

He nods and then asks incredibly seriously,

"How many times have you used them as a weapon? And how many can you produce?"

I say sternly,

"We have used them thousands if not millions of times, mostly in space. We can produce them by the millions as the method is quite simple, just requires specialized ingredients. MY flagship alone has 356 of these in weapon form and one large one powering it. The entire fleet is armed in the thousands of these weapons, of various sizes, roles, and delivery methods."

He pauses for a while and asks accusingly,

"You brought a war fleet... to our home armed with weapons that only the divine should wield?"

I shake my head and respond,

"While the fleet is composed mainly of warships this fleet is not impressive in the grand scheme of things. Many of the ships are either outdated or modified to be less powerful in exchange for being able to operate far away from home. These captive sun weapons are considered mainline anti-ship weapons, and as for the divine, these are not even the most powerful weapons in our nation's arsenal."

The Inquisitor asks,

"What enemy has forced you to make such weapons at a large scale?"

I respond quickly,

"Ourselves."

There is a moment of silence before the Inquisitor sighs and asks,

"Now Commodore... what is your people's request? What is it that is so important that you would trade this important technology just to utilize the expertise of our lowest type of mage?"

I ignore the comment about the lowest, and begin my plea,

"I don't know if my subordinate Shariah explained it to you fully like she should have, but here is the problem. My people have a cure for every normal disease we can have so long as we know what it is, and can quickly cure any new disease that rears its ugly head. Yet we still have an affliction that all of our development still cannot combat.

We call it a curse, it was a final effort by some evil people to cause pain to all of humanity. It isn't a plague, no it is an artificially created flaw in our bodies. It is infectious beyond belief for our kind and can be found in all of our animals despite it having a limited effect on them. It is a curse of slowly growing madness, beginning at birth as the flaw slowly eats away at our minds. Naturally, our bodies try to counteract the effects of the curse but eventually, we all fall victim. Some die outright, others become jibbering messes, and others become violent to the point of slaughtering their own kin.

It is our greatest current struggle. Because it is a flaw in our bodies our medicine and healers have no effect as to destroy it is to destroy our own flesh entirely. Burning of corpses has been the only way we know to prevent the further spread, but that doesn't matter because all but less than ten percent of humanity is affected.

We believed ourselves doomed until Phillia, the slave granted to me, performed a miracle. She had found a way to isolate, destroy, and then remove the cursed flesh from our bodies and entirely cure multiple of the crew of the curse, including myself. While we are still at risk of once more becoming infected, we are free of it, and even now all those who have been cured have reported greater mental function as their brains no longer are being ravaged.

That is why we want access to the capabilities of your healers. We are willing to trade some of our greatest works and technologies for this access. Of course, we would fairly compensate and return them on a scheduled rotation until our entire kind is healed, we simply only need permission to hire your people and allow us to take them from your nation for a short while."

I finish my statement and the Inquisitor thinks for a while. He doesn't even take a sip of his drink. He simply sits there deep in thought. He then folds his hands and then asks calmly,

"And why should we allow this? Once more, if your kind were to become part of the kingdom this access would be granted without question, and not only that we would be able to accept the technologies you offer freely."

He ends the statement there. I can't help but feel slightly offended, but I take a long breath and answer,

"That is not an option. Entirely and utterly. Our people are not compatible in this way. Our evolution of civilization is so different a merger or subordination would be impossible. Maybe after a long while of equal cooperation, our people may one day be able to become one."

The Inquisitor then asks,

"Equal? Why do your people constantly seemingly act as if we are equal? "

I respond with a little more bite in my tone,

"It is a term that we use because we wish to show we do not want to unfairly treat you in any dealings."

He asks with a more frustrated tone,

"Unfairly treat us? That means you are in the position of power here, and that we are not equals..."

I raise a hand interrupting him clearly to his frustration as I slowly become overcome with emotion. My thoughts of all those I knew and lost to the curse come to the surface. I speak with a growl in my tone,

"We are not. We are currently in discussions because we, the United States allow it.

We have been as accommodating as possible, we have overlooked your kingdom's backward and utterly savage culture so far. We offer friendship and kindness. We offer a massive boon, advancement. We want to help you from a period of society we once had ourselves, one that failed. "

The Inquisitor doesn't get mad like before. He instead dismissively waves me off and then says,

"Be gone from my sight. Your barbarity knows no bounds. A response will be formulated, and how we move forward will be decided in time."

I stand up and just leave. I have no more words. Bad thoughts fill my mind as I grow more angry by the second and when I get back to the dropship I slam a fist into the metal wall as memories fill my head. We will see what the future holds, and I pray for the salvation of both of our peoples, but for the damnation of the Inquisitor...