Date: 43 PST (Post Stasis Time).
The door to the office slammed open with a resounding bang as Nulan kicked it open, the servos that normally automatically opened it for guests whining in protest as she did so. The shelves and various pictures on the wall rattled from the force of the attack as the Kigrel stood in the doorway, teeth and claws bared as she glared at the single inhabitant of the room.
“We are done! You and your pathetic weakling race dare to insult us? We demand war!”
The bright red frills on the feline’s otherwise deep black fur were extended out in pure aggression, contrasting against the emerald green robe she wore as Herald of the hunt. Nulan stomped into the room, growling and hissing as the ambassador for the Kigrel warhorde drew herself up to her full height 7 ft tall height and glared across at the Terran diplomat whose office she had just barged into.
Most species would have been shocked or aggressive, demanding security or tackling this new intruder for such a display of aggression on this neutral Federation space station. But the Terran on the other side of the simple desk simply glanced up with a… disappointed look, holding out a single digit on a large callous covered hand.
“I’m on the phone… rude.”
Mr C Ket was this sector’s Terran Alliance diplomatic envoy, a large bulky man that seemed to be bursting out of the specifically tailored suit he wore. Most Terran diplomats and ambassadors were well known for being soft spoken and friendly, but Mr Ket was not most Terran ambassadors.
He lacked the soft fair features that most diplomats had gathered from their work lives, instead trading it in for a weathered scar filled face. He could have long ago regenerated away the damage his previous life had done to him, but in reality each scar was a part of who he was.
“Sorry, I got interrupted by the diplomat for the Kigrels. It’s a good thing the Murder Kitties are kinda adorable… Nah no need to send anyone, I’ll just send the forms to you later.”
Mr Ket did not get to deal with adorable space otters looking for friendship or space beavers who needed some help. Ket dealt with those who normally didn’t do diplomacy: the warrior races, the hordes, the aggressive empires. The Terran spoke softly, and by god did he love carrying a big stick.
“How dare you! You will take this seriously you primitive ape! This is war, total war! None of your pathetic rules or limits, this will be a Kigrel warhorde fight!”
The Terran took a moment to cancel his call, looked up at the feline intruder into his office as he stared up from a desk filled to the brim with various souvenirs and knick knacks from around the Terran Alliance. Mr Ket took a moment to stare up at the furious Kirgel, before purposefully going back to his Galnet connector and making another call; ignoring the intruder once again.
“Hey Terry! Yeah gonna need you here in… let's say two minutes. Nah nothing serious, just gonna need a cleanup at some point.”
Nulan felt her temper crack as she slammed both paws into the desk, a miniature flag of the Terran Conclave and a replica Ritilian egg both went flying across the room as her claws dug deep into the wood, shoving her face into the Terran's as she bared her needle like teeth.
How dare this primate, this primitive weak species… ignore her like this! She was the head huntress for the Kigrel warhorde. These apes should be running in fear, not… ignoring her! This… this… this…. This was unacceptable!
“You will not ignore me, or I will gut you like the insolent pup you are, Federation rules or not be damned!! We will get our satisfaction, and you will be crushed under the warhordes might!”
Ket took a moment to slowly hang up this second call, pausing for a second to forlornly glance at the Ritilian egg replica, his now broken souvenir lying smashed along the floor, before looking up at Nulan with a small cold smile.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. What was the nature of your visit to the Terran alliance diplomatic outreach program today?”
That caused the Feline to scream once more in rage
“I am here for war, as retaliation for your dishonourable despicable acts! You deaf stupid weakling!”
Mr Ket gave an exaggerated mock frown of disappointment, before reading into a desk and pulling out a large datapad, handing it towards Nulan.
“I’m sorry that we weren’t able to resolve this in a more optimal manner. If you would like to review our standard Geneva conflict agreement we-”
In a flurry of fury the Kigrel grabbed the device out of the hands of the Terran and threw it against the wall.
“We will not be bound by your trifling ideas of what weaklings believe war is! This will be a Kigrel war, a proper war!”
Mr Ket took a moment to glance at the small dent that now adorned the wall to his left with annoyance, before returning to his normal cold smile.
“Rude. So you’re saying you want an unlimited war? A total war, a war with no rules?”
“Yes! That is what we are here for, are you slow in mind as well as body!?”
This time the Terran gave a larger smile, an actual smile, before retrieving another datapad from the drawer underneath his desk, handing this new document over.
“Certainly. Please mark the Kigrel’s warhorde intent for such an action here please.”
Nulan swiped this new device from the hands of Mr Ket without reading it, signing it with a paw press in an instant before tossing it back at the other person in the room.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Finally. The Kirgel Warhorde will meet you on the battlefield and have our-”
BANG
Two things had happened in one fluid motion. The Terran had placed the datapad neatly back into its proper place, as even he knew the importance of good paperwork in such matters. Secondly, Mr Ket had retrieved the FN five seven pistol he kept stored there, pointed it across the table, and simply blown a hole through Nulan’s leg.
There was a momentary pause, where both parties seemed to take the time to take stock of this new reality, before the Kigrel collapsed to the floor, clutching her now bleeding limb and screaming.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT THE VOID!”
Mr Ket took this moment to get up from his seat, keeping his weapon trained on the feline in front of him, just in case she also had her own weapon. Not that Nulan was in such a state of mind, all the anger and indignation had melted away into a state of shock.
“WHAT THE VOID! You shot me! You shot a diplomat, are you insane, you can’t do that!”
The Terran took a moment to raise a single eyebrow.
“Really? I thought you wanted ‘war with no rules’. Not shooting diplomats is a rule.”
“That’s not what I Voiding meant! Why do you even have a weapon, you are a voiding diplomat!”
Mr Ket took a moment to wag a single finger at the Kigrel on the floor in front of him, as if scolding a child instead of staring at someone he’d just shot.
“The real question is why don’t you have a weapon? If my job was to go around declaring total war on people, I’d want to be packing while doing so.”
He took a moment to stare at the bullet which was now embedded in the far wall, brushing over it with his fingers as if he could just rub away the damage before giving a sigh.
“Damn, they’re gonna fine me for repairing the damage…”
It was at this point the door opened once again, softer and more delicately this time, revealing a Hatil carrying a general first aid kit. Although the 3ft tall figure was a trained medical professional, the general picture of a species that looked like a mixture between a baby seal and a teddy bear, as well as the tiny version of the federation medical staff uniform, made the newcomer look adorable.
“There you are Terry! Can you just give my guest a quick look over to make sure I didn’t hit anything important.”
Terry just gave a resigned look, a look that said that the Hatil had seen too many similar injuries in this office, before bending over to start applying medical aid to the still screaming Kigrel. The Terran took this moment to tidy up some of the mess his new guest had made, placing the Terran Conclave flag back onto his desk and dusting off the first datapad that had been thrown against the wall.
“You Terran’s are insane! Is this how you wage war!?”
That caused Mr Ket to laugh deeply before he responded.
“Oh, so we’ve been upgraded from weakling to insane? This isn’t how we normally wage war, that’s why we have the Geneva rules of war. Did you read none of the documents I sent you?”
Nulan glared up at the Terran with defiance as the Hatil continued to bandage and treat her bullet wound.
“Why would we care about the mewling demands of weaklings?”
Mr Ket responded simply by holding out the now dented datapad he had originally tried to get his Kigrel counterpart to agree to.
“Read.”
Maybe it was the stern way the Terran said it, maybe it was the gun he was still holding in his other hand, but Nulan decided that agreeing to this demand might be a good idea.
The next five minutes were spent in silence as Mr Ket continued to clean up his office and Nulan continued to read. It was rather funny, although no words were spoken he could tell exactly where the feline was while she skimmed the document. Flashes of worry and fear, her ears pressing against her head as she got to each section describing another banned quality of Terran warfare.
Biological attacks, planet cracking, genetic modification. It painted a far different picture than the persona of “Friendliest species in the galaxy”.
“So… this is a list of things you want banned because you’re unable to accomplish them, demanding others succumb to your weakness?”
This caused the Terran to give another laugh as he took his seat behind the desk once again, the office mostly as it was before the Kigrel had arrived.
“Not quite. There is a Terran saying: It’s not a war crime the first time. Everything in that document has been done at least once, that’s why it’s in the document. Just think about that. So, now that you’ve calmed down and are more sensible, what’s got you so filled with piss and vinegar?”
Nulan felt the anger that had originally filled her return, teeth being barred instinctively even in her currently disadvantageous position.
“You Terrans dishonoured us! You attacked our royal sanctum, incapacitated our huntmasters and…”
The Kigrel paused for a moment, lowering her voice to a whisper as she hissed out the final infraction.
“...And one of your warriors drew a male genitalia on our sacred histories.”
Mr Ket couldn’t help but smirk a little at that last one, before responding in kind, pointing a finger accusingly.
“You, started it. You attacked a mining expedition unprovoked and took everyone prisoner. We just rescued them, tied up your supposed ‘elite huntmasters’, and messed around with some stuff. It was supposed to be dishonourable. Most people in your situation would realise that if we can do this while not taking it seriously, what capability does the Terran military have when we’re playing for keeps?”
The Terran took a moment to pause as Terry the medic signalled that he’d finished patching the feline up, the Hatil leaving with the annoyed huff of someone who had dealt with Mr Ket’s shit for far too long.
“Look, right now we’re in a state of minor conflict, an ‘incident’. You do some minor incursion, we respond. You’re a standard military honour race, this is basically flirting, no harm no foul. But Terrans, we don’t do war for honour or status. We do war to kill the other side, to win. That’s without getting into the mutual defence agreements in the Terran Alliance, meaning you’re basically declaring war on all 300 odd members.”
Mr Ket got back up and took a moment to hold out a hand towards the feline, offering to pull the injured diplomat to her feet.
“The question is, where are we going from here?”
There was a moment's pause as Nulan summed up her options in her head, before eventually grasping the Terrans hand with her own paw and getting to her feet. Her tail was between her legs and ears pressed firmly against her head as she asked the next question.
“Can I revoke our… mistake?”
Mr Ket gave a laugh as he shrugged slightly.
“You never actually declared war, general tip: read stuff people get you to sign. The thing I got you to sign was an agreement to a duel. Federation administrators get all pissy if you shoot people without the proper paperwork.”
Nulan couldn’t help but just stare at the Terran. She didn’t get it, she didn’t get any of it at all.
“If the Terrans are this strong, why bother with diplomacy?”
“Fighting is fun, but it’s way more fun with a friend. Of the current Terran Alliance members, 27 of them are some form of warrior race. All of them have some form of combat related sport, or trial of proving, or something cool and awesome to do. That’s without getting into the new stuff when warrior cultures mix. I can literally get on a shuttle to any of these places and do something exciting within a week. Or at least I could if I didn’t have to deal with an angry murder kitty breaking into my office and causing me a ton of paperwork.”
Nulan mumbled her apologies as the Terran reopened the door to his office, motioning to the outside with a slightly annoyed air.
“So unless you’re actually going to declare war or have anything else to talk about, I would appreciate it if you left my office so I can write lots of boring explanations as to why I shot someone.”
The Kigrel delayed for a moment, standing there humbled and awkwardly, compared with the complete rage she had felt just 15 minutes before. There was also something else. She had assumed any species who wasted their time with diplomacy instead of just taking what they wanted from the hunt must be weak.
But these “Terrans”, these strange insane primates… Nulan wanted to know more.
“What’s the process for joining the Terran Alliance?”