"A human is born in pain. They live in pain. They die in pain.
"And they're willing to inflict that pain thrice upon anyone who they determine to be the enemy.
"Because the enemy exists only to be destroyed." - Former Grand Most High Sma'akamo'o, from his autobiogrpahy entitled: I Have Ridden the Hasslehoff, New Telkan Press, Post Second Precursor War
Mantids were often known for poetic names, and he was no exception. With the name Violet Flowers Line Paths to Peace, and he had recently brokered a peace deal between several long time warring faction of Telkan in the Telkan Systems. He had brought an end to a six hundred year on again off again war that had consumed millions but had never outright moved to total war. All parties had been satisfied and felt that the deal was more than fair and all factions had come away better off than they had been.
Part of the senior diplomatic negotiators for the Confederacy of Aligned Systems Diplomatic Corps, Violet had dealt with some of the most dangerous beings and organization in the galactic spur and managed to bring about peace between all of the factions.
Even more impressive, people of all species genuinely liked him.
The flotilla that carried him and his diplomatic team had been in hyperspace when everyone had heard it.
LET THE UNIVERSE SHAKE IN THE WRATH OF TERRASOL
The flotilla had immediately dropped from hyperspace and then made a least-time journey to the nearest friendly system with a needlecaster. It had been a trip of less than 40 hours. He had immediately communicated to Diplomatic Services that he was standing by and that he would make a least-time hyperspace multi-leg route toward the TerraSol Restricted Zone.
Sixty hours ago he had been in an older system, at the edge of old TerraSol Restricted Space. His diplomatic flotilla around the outer gas giant, taking on mass, when he had received an urgent communique.
TERMINATE ALL CURRENT AND FUTURE EFFORTS AND ASSIGNEMENTS
STAND BY FOR NEW ASSIGNMENT
He had to admit, he had been somewhat apprehensive.
Worrying, Violet had returned to his quarters to watch H'Relp the Moo Moo Tender Power Hour and eat popcorn, trying not to worry about what this next assignment would be.
When the orders were brought to him, he raised an antenna and knew that he was about to face the most challenging assignment of his career.
Of any diplomat's career.
He was to proceed immediately to TerraSol. He would engage in diplomatic negotiations after an international incident, as well as the current geopolitical landscape, had led to TerraSol withdrawing from the Gestalt system as well as closing the gates on what few embassies that they had already staffed.
The first thing Violet did was request from "We Live Here Now and Enjoy This Place as a Bastion of Goodness" home-system all data from the last decade of Confederate/Terran interactions.
Records were nearly eighteen hours returning, via priority needlecast.
True, the station resented that his diplomatic authority gave him near total exclusive access to the needlecaster, but a few overtures and concessions in authority ensured that the station personnel felt as if it was to their benefit that his diplomatic team was using their needlecaster.
The big one was he ordered his flotilla to upgrade and perform maintenance on the needlecaster so that it could serve his needs, taking it from the Diplomatic Corps' budget rather than the system's budget.
Once he had the relative data, transmitted from the venerable Free Mantid States "Hive Home", he began to peruse it even as the flotilla got underway again.
The most pertinent data was from a Gold Caste mantid from Diplomatic Services, during the opening phases of the Confederacy/Council Conflict over forty-thousand years prior.
He watched Dreams of Something More's personal logs, paying close attention to her details on TerraSol and Terran Descent Humans. He admired her abdominal wrap, the robe she wore on her thorax, her love of interesting looking hats, and her attitude.
She had toured TerraSol before her deployment to the Lanaktallan Council territory.
He paid personal attention to the data on Terrans.
They were a primate species. Extremely aggressive in all areas, including scientific and technological advancement. They alternated between hyperviolence and overwhelming pacifist attitudes.
He took note of Dreams's observation that polling 10,000 Terrans would give you 11,001 opinions.
It became obvious that he would have to be careful. The Terrans had been xenocided during a war for survival against the Lost Precursor Species. The survivors scattered across the galaxy and now lost. Their homeworld, home system, had been turned into a prison.
They had been trapped for just over fifty years while nearly 40,000 years had gone by for the rest of the universe.
That meant that Mantid diplomatic envoys present in the TerraSol system would be trained and experienced.
Those were his best resource, if he could convince them to work with him and if they had not gone native.
However, examining *Dreams of Something More'*s biography and writings, 'going native' appeared to be unaviodable when dealing with Terran Descent Humans.
He made note of that, also.
The flotilla dropped from hyperspace only eight light-days from the Solarian System. It received instructions, to be followed to the letter, for the hyperspace microjumps they were to make to approach TerraSol.
Violet nodded. The Terrans would be wary, still on wartime footing for a war that had only been a few decades behind them and they could not be sure was not still raging when they came out.
He instructed the diplomatic team to be as passive as possible.
His guards were told to keep their weapons in storage mode and unloaded, with the breaches open to show that there were no rounds in the chamber.
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He examined the images of the planets as his ship made the sixty hour trip to TerraSol.
The ninth planet appeared to be wrapped in huge chains, with large canyons with lava burning in the depths. It was named after a Terran religious figure who ruled the underworld as well as a strange looking canine owned by an anthropomorphic mouse.
The gas giants were blurry to his ship's sensors, evidence of heavy masking. He stood in an observation blister and stared at the nearest one. It glimmered and gleamed.
Either extraction yards or shipyards.
He was willing to bet both.
The satellite of Terra was massive, named Luna. Lights glimmered on the surface, whole cities on the surface, uncaring of the vacuum.
Terra itself was lit up. The population metrics were odd, with over a billion Lanaktallan in residence as full citizens.
When he saw that one was a politician, he looked up footage.
It was a Hamburger Kingdom Senate session, debating on whether or not Terra should involve itself in the current war against the Mar-gite. A Senator was claiming that it would be centuries before the Mar-gite could threaten Earth (Another name for Terra, it seemed to have nearly 30 names, some quite poetic) so there was no reason to engage in the conflict.
The Lanaktallan signaled that he wished to speak and was granted five minutes.
The Lanaktallan, one Ba'ahn Ya'ahrd, stood up and stated: "Allow me to present my constituents' rebuttal" as the other Senator smirked.
The Lanaktallan drew a pistol from the holster at his waist and began shooting at the other Senator, who dove behind a table.
After eight shots, the Lanaktallan sat down.
"I cede my time and further ammunition to the next speaker," he stated.
That required hours of examination.
Violet was somewhat shocked to see that duels with swords, bladearms, knives, bare hands, pistols, even high speed vehicle races, were common methods of resolving disagreements all over TerraSol.
Still, he was glad when the flotilla was given permission to land.
He made sure he was wearing a Charlie the Moo Moo abdominal wrap, a jacket from "Jak the Telkan" series clothing line, nifty boots with curled toes that had bells on the curls, as well as a Moo Moo Tender hat.
He informed his staff to dress comfortably but professionally as the ship's captain sounded the all-clear.
True, the Captain had had misgivings at the amount of firepower surrounding the ship, but Violet was sure it was just precautionary, born of having been imprisoned during the war tens of thousands of years ago.
The ramp lowered and Violet motioned his subordinates forward.
"Show no aggression, even if you are subjected to primate threat displays," Violet said. "There has been a grave diplomatic mistake and international incident. Let us not compound problems."
His guards nodded.
The black mantids rushed down the ramp, taking up positions. They didn't like that they were only allowed their bladearms free, their weapons locked down behind their backs. Still, they gathered up in the traditional formation to protect the ship.
Large Terran warborgs moved up to face the black mantids.
Violet nodded. Just like the historical documentaries and Dreams of Something More's writings. He had to admit, they were more fearsome appearing in person than on video.
He adjusted the psychic shielding headband under his hat to ensure he was properly protected. All of the documentation had warned of Terran psychic power, both the strength and the unpredictability of it.
The golds moved down next. They moved up and the Terran Descent Human diplomatic team moved forward.
Violet listened as the greetings were exchanged.
The Terrans were glad to see the golds.
The golds were glad to see the Terrans.
The Terrans hoped the current difficulties could be dealt with in a professional and civilized manner.
The golds agreed and hoped their efforts would enable such a resolution.
The Terrans asked if the golds were ready to go someplace more conducive to diplomatic negotiations.
The golds deferred, instead making an introduction.
"Presenting, the lead diplomatic, Senior Diplomatic Attaché and Plenipotentiary, Violet Flowers Line the Path to Peace," the head of the Gold delegation stated, making a sweeping gesture with her bladearms.
Violet motioned for his guards to flank and follow him and moved down the ramp.
The effect of his appearance was immediate.
The warborgs all went to live weapons. Half of them went down on one knee, deploying heavy weapons. Sensors, lasers, and ranging devices painted over Violet and his guards.
"SPEAKER!" the lead Terran delegate bellowed out, grabbing for the pistol on his hip.
"WARRIORS!" someone else yelled.
"What?" Violet asked, turning around. "What?"
Stingwings were taking off, weapons were deploying to aim at the ship. Warborgs were changing position, taking up obvious offensive and defensive positions. The entire Terran Descent Human delegation had drawn weapons or were getting behind warborgs which were moving forward.
Violet shrunk back, confusion and fear filling him.
"I don't udnerstand, what did I do?" he asked, his antenna and legs trembling.
"DON'T FUCKING MOVE, BUG!" the lead Terran diplomat shouted, leveling a pistol at him. "I'LL FUCKING SPLATTER YOU, I SWEAR ON DAXIN'S WARSTEEL BALLS!"
"What did I do?" Violet asked. He waved at the warriors. "Please, my bladearms and hands up, there has been some misunderstanding."
Violet felt fear and dismay, his gut churning, as dismay filled him. His very appearance was causing the Terrans to react violently.
"Please, I have done nothing, there's no need for violence," Violet said, holding his bladearms and hands up.
For a long moment the only sound was the hum of grav-lifters and the sounds of birds.
"You're a fucking speaker," the lead Terran Diplomat said, his voice harsh and full of barely restrained violence. "Surrounded by Menhit cursed Warriors. On Terra."
"Yes," Violet said. "I am a fully accredited diplomat, originally hailing from the We Live Here Now and Enjoy This Place as a Bastion of Goodness systems before entering the Confederate Diplomatic Corps and being assigned to Diplomatic Services. I bring the greeting of the Confederacy of Aligned Systems, which you knew as the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems."
"Do you have any idea what happened here?" the lead diplomat said, his voice sounding like he was speaking with grinding plates.
"The Terran Xenocide Event and the events of the Second Precursor War sealed you in here after sustaining a full frontal attack by the Lanaktallan Unified Council's martial forces," Violet said. "May my guards and I lower our hands and bladearms?"
"We aren't worried about your hands or bladearms," the diplomat said. "We remember what Speakers can do."
"I am capable of listening to the other castes and collate their concerns, desires, and wishes to the Overqueens. I act as both the voice of the Queens and the voice of the common Mantid," Violet said. He combed his antenna. "My abilities are honed well enough I can listen to an immature green mantid worker caste tell me that the school is stealing the good turkey gravy for themselves and billing his parents."
The diplomat blinked slowly. "That's not how we saw you last."
Violet nodded, suddenly understanding. "Oh, you refer to the Human-Mantid War. The First and Second intergalactic conflicts between your two nations."
The human nodded.
Violet combed his antenna. "Such a terrible thing," he said softly. "To be led astray by your own queen, who you have entrusted with your very soul. To have queens and speakers feed upon your misery, that they inflict, rather than share in your joy and bliss of living a life full of wonder and safety."
He shook his head. "We too, my people, labored under such a terrible Omniqueen. A fearsome and terrible being, who enslaved our queens, who devoured our people, who literally feasted upon the flesh of the species that were our friends."
Two of the warriors nodded.
"We had moved past such vileness, when the Omniqueen arrived and enslaved us," Violet said softly. "Only, unlike the Mantid of Mantid Prime, we had no Terrans to liberate us through force of arms," he made sure to flash symbols of sorrow and embarrassment between his antenna and with his body language. "My ancestors fought, bitterly, against the tyranny of the Omniqueen and only stellar geometry saved us. Not just the Mantid, but our friends too."
The guns were lowering.
"If my presence is disturbing to your people, I can withdraw," he pointed at the lead gold mantid. "Finds Peace in the Maelstrom is perfectly capable of acting as an intermediary between our people."
The diplomat stood for a long moment. Finally he inhaled slowly and let the breath out all in a rush.
Violet knew that what the Terran had done signified he had made a difficult decision that he might regret later and felt anxiety that the decision might be a critical error.
"Things have changed outside The Bag," he said slowly. He motioned and the warborgs stepped back. The scanning and targeting systems switched off. "Your name is Violet then?"
Violet nodded. "Yes, and I greet you."
"I greet you too."