---Gifts---
---Aghogh’s perspective---
I hear six of my daughters enter the antechamber, Khr’kowan leading from the position of honour.
Between them, just as she told me, I hear five separate patterns of two feet, all far too heavy and spaced apart to be Vermin footfalls.
Behind them, I hear the quiet thrum of something very large and, from the quality of the sound shadow it casts, quite hard. I would guess it to be a cart of some kind but… I hear no wheels…?
I would gladly offer the Weaver a year off the end of my life in exchange for being able to see the visitors, just once!
Mhakhrav lets out a quiet hiss, seemingly unable to control herself, in spite of my daughter's warnings.
Thankfully, I don’t think they will have heard!
I reach out for her hand and, a moment later, feel her place it in mine.
I give it a little squeeze to reassure her and, in turn, myself.
From what my daughter tells me, it is absolutely imperative that we not anger these envoys!
“Father… I present to you, our honoured guests from beyond the stars: Thran ‘Gimli’ Huntress, Leon ‘Kennedy’ Byrne, Victor ‘Embraces’ Taylor, Xon ‘Great Step’ Runner and Emiko ‘Smiles’ Miyazaki!” announces my daughter.
Curiously, mixed in to the outlandish names are words of comprehensible Vrakhandic.
I consider whether that may, perhaps, be a coincidence before deciding that they must simply have parts of their names that have been translated for our benefit.
My daughter approaches me.
I hear her fumble with something as, in a low voice, she explains “I’m going to put one of their speech coins on you, Father. Be warned, you will spend some moments shuddering when I attach it…”
I feel her left hand against the right side of my face while her right goes to my left temple, just below my crown.
Something smooth and metallic is placed against my head there.
I feel it latch and, in the same instant, my body is wracked by convulsions!
I hear my daughters hiss in disgust and wheel on the Foreigners.
Before my daughter can turn herself to confront her sisters (who she really ought to have prioritised warning of this over me) I hold up my still shaking hand.
“S-Stop!” I shout, my voice juddering
My daughters obey my orders, holding their position.
Once I’ve mostly recovered, I reassure them “…I’m alright, Daughters… There is no deception or trickery here!… Our [General] did forewarn me… This is apparently the normal result of this device’s use… Stand down.”
I hear them reluctantly backing away from the Foreigners.
Doing my best to recover my dignity, I turn my face to where I think the envoys are and greet “Esteemed envoys from beyond the stars, I, Broodking Aghogh of the Khawekhan Realm, Son of Broodking Khviakh of the Khawekhan Realm and [General] Khr’kowan the Elder of the Vridhuthan Realm, welcome you to our city!”
A surprisingly light sounding set of feet step forward.
In a staccato language that my earhorns recognise as completely unfamiliar to me, over which the coin at my temple layers meaning directly into my mind, a voice answers “Greetings, Broodking Aghogh of the Khawekhan Realm, Son of Broodking Khviakh of the Khawekhan Realm and General Khr’kowan the Elder of the Vridhuthan Realm… My name is Emiko ‘Smiles’ Miyazaki… I thank you for your gracious words of welcome!… Before anything else, I would like to offer you and your people a gift, as a token of our good will, if I may?”
The voice is high and mellifluous, though the device tells me it belongs to a woman.
Collecting my nerves from this… strange situation I find myself in, I respond “A gift would be most welcome… Though, my apologies, I will require you to describe its form and function to me, as the Weaver has not been so gracious as to leave me my sight.”
“Of course, Your Majesty… May we unveil it?”
I gesture in the affirmative and hear the woman turn to one of her compatriots.
“Victor, if you would be so kind?”
A large sound shadow begins to move, accompanied by footsteps so quiet that I can barely hear them.
The one named ‘Victor’ goes to the humming, hard thing and I hear the sound of a sizeable cloth (which sounds like neither silk, nor fur, nor leather) being dramatically pulled away.
My court all gasp at the nature of whatever has been revealed and there rises a clamour of excited murmuring.
The woman, Emiko, does not make me ask again to know what everyone else in the room already does.
“Meat, Your Majesty… on your daughter’s recommendation… around six times her weight’s worth… Though, that does include some bones… I understand that, on this planet, animals of comparable size would all be exoskeletal, so please take care that no one damages their teeth on them!… Other than that, it should be quite safe for your people to consume… It was Khr’kowan’s particular favourite of all the kinds we offered her while she was in our care… It’s called ‘beef’ and comes from an animal called a ‘cow’, native to the same world we are… We hope that this gift pleases you and demonstrates our peoples’ good intentions to yours.”
“It is most welcomely received!” I answer, a little breathless at the impeccable timing of such a gift!
That much is more than I had hoped to receive from Khravash, even in the best case scenario!
Were they… aware that we were about to starve?
I suppose my daughter might have inferred such?
They definitely took pains to stress that it was a gesture of good will and preempt any notion of this gift being tribute to us… I imagine she is the one that coached them through that!
In any event, Khr’kowan says we must curry these visitors favour, so “What gift may we offer you, Emiko ‘Smiles’ Miyazaki, to show you our good will in return?”
The envoy gives the briefest of approving exhales before answering “There is something, Your Majesty, though… I hope I will not offend you by asking for too much…”
Oh Weaver… she’s going to ask for thanatite, isn’t she!
She’s about to make me choose between submitting my realm to her people’s vassalage without a single arrow being loosed or fighting a (based on what my daughter tells me) doomed war to maintain our independence!
What should I do!?
Even if I attempt to placate her by submitting, most of my people will not understand!
None of my vassals will, none of them having had a first hand account of what a danger the Foreigners pose as I did from Khr’kowan!
“Name it.” I answer, mostly keeping my horror out of my aged voice.
I hear her raise her arm.
“I would ask for the return of the [untranslatable term: ‘drone’. Meaning: device that acts as a servant conducting errands at a distance to its master] that alerted us to your presence on this world, hanging above us… We apologise for unwittingly violating your sovereignty by sending it here without your permission.”
Relief washes over me as I answer “*heh*…Rather a humble gift you ask, the return of your own property to you(!)… Please, take it with our apologies for its… current condition.”
“You are most kind, Your Majesty.” she answers graciously.
“Hhlornh, Vhr’rkh, fetch down our guests’ chosen gift and put it on their land ship once there’s space. Kvehah, Whakhowh, Aharnh, begin carrying the [beef] meat to the boys in the kitchen… and pass on the warning about the bones to them!” orders my daughter from my side.
I give her an approving gesture before turning back to the envoys and asking “Might we talk somewhere more private while my daughters prepare your gift for you?”
---Emiko’s perspective---
The five of us, flanked by four Vrakhand guards (presumably the General’s sisters or half sisters), walk down a corridor formed of richly died silk, patterned with the same kind of webbed script as we found carved into that cave wall in the South, lead by the gigantic woman with her elderly father’s hand loosely held around her forearm.
His movement is slow and careful compared to the confident, powerful, swift way his daughter walks when not guiding him.
He stands around a head shorter than me, only around half the height of his daughter and, I’d estimate, less than a fifth of her mass!
I feel some sympathy for his blindness…
I know a little about the experience of attempting to conduct interspecies diplomacy while having to do without my vision. It’s not an experience I would be eager to repeat! I do not envy the position he’s in.
It’s also quite clear that the General took the opportunity, when seeking his permission for us to enter the city, to terrify him with stories about us, heedless of us specifically asking her not to!
In spite of his clear tension and the readily apparent frailness of his body when compared to the younger citizens of his realm, he’s doing a remarkable job of maintaining a regal and dignified baring.
I suppose, if what Khr’kowan tells us is correct, then he’s nearly as old as the oldest Human living and has been the de facto leader of his whole species for nearly a quarter of that time! I’d guess he has much experience in keeping cool in crises!
We come to a doorway that, unlike the rest of the palace, is made of masoned stone.
Passing through it, we descend a short ramp into an entirely stone room, hung with silk tapestries, with open, wooden shutters on the windows at the far side.
Through the windows is a view, overlooking the city below.
In the middle of the room is a low table, in the far corner is a large bed clearly designed for a Vrakhand couple.
We’re in the King’s private chamber’s right now.
The General helps her father find his place, at the far side of the table, where he lowers his underside to the floor.
His pedipalps are folded against his front, looking for all the world like a pair of Human knees in a furry pair of trousers.
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His eight sprawling legs are folded close into his sides, much more obviously nonHuman.
The General turns to her subordinates and orders “Go and find something the right height and sturdiness for our guests to sit on. It is not their custom to seat themselves on the floor.”
“That’s quite unnecessary, Gen. Khr’kowan… This arrangement is perfectly acceptable!” I countermand, smiling warmly to soften the correction, as I lower myself to the floor across the table from the King, resting my bottom on top of my ankles in a seiza.
I gesture the other four down and, immediately, Thran and Victor come down on my left, both in straight backed quarter lotuses that look as if they may be about to start meditating, and Xon and Leon both move to my right and sit with their legs in front of them, folded more loosely than the other two.
“Belay my last order. Close the door and stand guard outside.” she amends.
Wordlessly, her subordinates file from the room and close the only solid door I’ve seen since entering the city behind them.
Before joining us at the table, Khr’kowan takes a detour to the windows and sticks out her head, looking straight down what can’t be more than a 5-6m drop below, to check for eavesdroppers.
Satisfied, she closes the shutters, cutting off the wonderful view, and comes to seat herself besides her father.
“So… Your Majesty…” I smile “…I’m sure you have a lot of questions?”
“I do.” he answers, giving a little shuffle of his many legs that I’m certain would set any arachnophobe’s pulse racing.
It was quite amusing to watch Samus making excuses for being put on the complement to the Twigg, when the real reason was clearly her debilitating arachnophobia(!)
I extend my arms in a gesture he can’t see and observe “Perhaps it would be best to start by answering all your questions then?”
His eight milky eyes stare forward at my face while he thinks.
“My daughter… tells me you wish us to make peace with the Vermin…”
“The ‘Twigg’, Father.” corrects his daughter, which I’m grateful for.
“Excuse me… You wish us to make peace with the ‘Twigg’… Why do you care?… If half of what my daughter tells me about you is true, I don’t see what you have to gain from interposing yourselves into the strife between us?”
“It’s a fair question.” I concede, buying myself time to formulate my thoughts.
Having decided how I’m going to answer, I start “Your Majesty, I don’t wish to insult you when I say this but, from what your daughter tells us, you yourself have never been a soldier, never fought on the front lines of any battle… Is that correct?”
“It is.” he answers, simply.
“But you have been King through wars, correct?” I push.
“Many times.” he answers, a small amount of defiant pride showing through.
“In your opinion, is it better to be the King of a realm at peace… or a realm at war?” I ask, not suggesting anything with my tone and genuinely interested in his thoughts on the matter.
“Peace, of course!” he answers, slightly affronted.
“Why?”
“Well… because war brings with it loss… starvation, privation… suffering… and… unlike in peacetime, where such issues can receive my full attention, during wartime, my first priority must be victory lest my people’s suffering have been for naught!… Every war my people have fought has felt like having to take a knife to prize off my chest plate and then pull out my still beating heart!”
Satisfied by that answer, I turn to Khr’kowan and ask “What about you, General? You’ve fought in wars. Do you prefer peacetime or war?”
Slightly thrown, she takes a lot longer to formulate her answer than her father did before eventually responding “I… The wars fought in my time have been nothing compared to those my broodmother fought to unite the realms under Father’s rule… War… does give me purpose… does make me feel alive… but, in spite of that, it is never something I would wish for… My answer is peace.”
I nod my understanding “It may surprise you to know that I myself am no stranger to war… When I was a young woman, I was a soldier in the bloodiest war the galaxy has ever fought!… Despite having a name, when people talk about it, it’s usually just ‘the War’! It’s a war that took both of my parents from me, Mr Taylor’s parents from him and Agent Byrne’s from him… That war is one that left scars on the galaxy that may fade… but will never fully heal!”
Slightly indignantly, the King starts “But then…?!”
“Aren’t we being hypocritical?… Telling you to make peace when we fought a war bloodier than anything you could imagine so recently? A war in which so many men and women died that your language probably doesn’t have words for numbers so large?”
He does not answer, instead waiting for me to continue.
“Yes, we are… and we aren’t!… You see, the galaxy learned a lesson from the War… We learned what you already know… War is hell!… War is pain! War is suffering! War is loss!… War is the death of everything we value about life… the destruction of everything we strive for!… War is children growing up without their parents… War is men and women waking up to cold, empty beds they once shared with loving spouses… And, while I am lucky enough to have lived to a time where the seared hair follicles…" I gesture to the silver highlight in my fringe "…burned skin…” I gesture to my forehead “…and pair of brown eyes that were boiled out of my skull in that War…” I gesture to my purple eyes “…could be healed, I can tell you the scars to people’s minds are not so easily fixed!… Like you, my people do not enjoy needless suffering… not in ourselves, not in others… That is why we wish to facilitate an end to hostilities between you and the Twigg!”
In the corners of my vision, I see Victor and Leon’s bodylanguage shift as they learn what Thran and Xon already knew about the origin of my unnatural eye and hair colours.
“So, you came all the way from the stars to end our conflict for us?” asks the elderly Vrakhand.
“We did not, no… We didn’t even know about the presence of multiple species until we got here, let alone that there was a war between you… and we will not be ending your conflict for you… That’s not our place!… All we wish to do is provide you the means to end it yourselves, namely; translators to allow dialogue, a neutral meeting place where neither side need fear an ambush and third party, disinterested arbitration to keep discourse civil and negotiations from breaking down… You’ll have to make peace yourselves… That is, if you agree to participate in the talks at all…” I respond.
He frowns slightly, mulling over my words, then asks “Why did you come to our world, originally?”
“We came to invite you to become a member of our… community… A nation of nations among the stars, called the Galactic Union.” I answer, taking a moment to think of how to describe such a polity in a way he would understand.
“And… why do you want us among this ‘nation of nations’… From what my daughter tells me, it doesn’t sound as if we have much to offer you!”
I think for some moments about how to answer that.
I settle on a metaphor “Your Majesty, do you know how many threads were in the rope that held our drone from your ceiling?”
Confused, he answers “You… must forgive me… I do not believe I have ever touched that rope specifically and, as I’ve previously stated, I am without sight… So, I do not know!”
“General?” I ask, turning my attention to her.
Frowning in exactly the same way as her father, allowing me to really see the family resemblance, the large woman answers “I… could not say for certain… but my guess would be that that rope was between 66-110 threads in thickness?”
“I see. What would have happened if you had attempted to hang it from a rope that was only a single thread thick?” I muse.
“The thread would have snapped under the weight of your [drone]!” she scoffs.
“Exactly!” I answer, excitedly, then turn my attention back to the King “And, Your Majesty, why did you and the General’s mother decide to prosecute the wars to conquer all the other realms?”
Slightly annoyed at the perceived accusation in that question, he answers “Well… that was… because our people’s survival was at stake! We could see what disunity was doing to the Vrakhand! That the decade or so of war that it took to subordinate them to our rule was preferable to the constant warfare (that was the norm at the time) being allowed to continue indefinitely!”
“Exactly!” I say, surprising him with my ready acceptance of his justification as he clearly expected to have to defend his reasoning “One person… is like a single strand of silk. There’s a certain amount of strength and resilience they have in them before the load they are being asked to bear will simply break them!… Almost without fail, people of any species realise the simple truth that being woven together into the rope of community makes them stronger than they would be alone, not simply because there are more strands to take a given load but because the strands themselves reinforce one another! A rope that’s a hundred strands thick can take much more strain than a hundred strands pulling individually! Communities can then weave themselves into thicker and thicker ropes, encompassing more and more diversity and becoming yet stronger and stronger!… The Galactic Union is the rope that almost all of the peoples of this galaxy have chosen to become threads in…”
Understanding, the elderly man asks “And, now, you wish to make our thread join to your rope?” his tone resigned.
“No, not ‘make’…” I correct “…as I said, membership in the Galactic Union is 100% voluntary! No species is a member of it against their will and members may withdraw at any time!… A respect for others’ right to self determination is one of the GU’s core… tenets…”
I trail off, realising the extent to which I just put my foot in my mouth.
‘We respect others’ right to self determination… exactly the way you didn’t when you and your previous wife subjugated every other one of your species’ nations a little under half a century ago!’
It isn’t as if I’m in any position to stand in judgement!
Though Terran Unification happened almost entirely bloodlessly, it was also far later in our respective development!
Our history is utterly fraught with examples of men who did exactly what this man and his late wife did and are still thought of as heroes by many!
He is to the Vrakhand what Oda Nobunaga was to Japan, what Giuseppe Garibaldi was to Italy, what Qín Shǐ Huáng was to China, what George Washington was to the States, what Otto von Bismark was to Germany.
Our history has no shortage of men who forged nations by dousing themselves in rivers of blood and are still remembered fondly for it!
I can’t hold this man to the moral standards that are a luxury of the times I’m lucky enough to live in!
Fortunately, if he noticed my blunder, he chooses not to bring it up, asking instead “So… if we wished to join this community, we would need to reconcile with the Verm… the Twigg?”
“I… would say so, Your Majesty, yes… To be honest, as we explained to your daughter while she was in our care, there’s really no precedent for a situation like yours!… There are only a tiny handful of planets where multiple species coevolved to a state of sentience and those that there are happened to be already at peace with one another by the time we made First Contact with them… However, what there is precedent for are species who were discovered amidst civil wars… In such cases the Galactic Union has done as we are doing now, attempted to bring the conflict to a peaceful resolution before the species can be accepted as members.”
He gives a gesture my translator flags as somewhere between understanding and conceding before he answers “Neither of these are decisions it is within my authority to make on my own. I will need to invite my vassal lords here to discuss these issues… Under normal circumstances, I would say it would take a season to dispatch messengers with their summonses, for those messengers to make their way to the furthest realms, for those lords to make the necessary arrangements to travel and then make their way here but, with the Ver-Twigg uprising ongoing, I could make no guarantees that any messengers I dispatched would survive the journey… So, unless you could get them to call an armistice for us, it might take considerably longer!”
I smile “Oh, fetching your vassals here will be a simple matter for us to take care of!”
“They have a sky ship, Father.” his daughter elaborates “It sails through the air at speeds so fast it could easily traverse the entire continent inside of a morning… I rode it down from the star ship they have up in the evernight today… If I or one of my sisters rides with them to show them the way, it will be a matter of days to gather all of our vassals here in Khawekh.”
“Oh… I… see…!” states the elder statesman, understandably shellshocked by what’s just been explained to him.
“There is something I’m hoping you can agree to in this meeting, without your vassals input.” I say, hoping the request won’t offend him.
“What is that?”
“We would like to put an embassy building on your lands, a few kilometres from your city, just as a pied à terre to conduct our discussion with you and with the Twigg from. Would that be acceptable?” I ask, sweetly.
“I’m sorry… you want to ‘put’ a building on my land?… You mean ‘build’ a building, surely?”
I shake my head “I mean ‘put’… The building is already built, it’s just around 30,000km over our heads right now. We just need your permission to bring it here and place it down… If you and your vassals end up refusing contact, we can just take it away again.”
He gives a slightly defeated gesture that, even without translation, I would be able to identify as meaning something like ‘Sure(!) That may as well happen(!)’ before answering “I grant you permission to temporarily place your embassy building on my people’s land… but request that you attempt to minimise the impact of your hunting on the local game, as much as is possible.”
I give a grateful nod and answer “I thank you, Your Majesty, and there is no need to fret. There’s only one hunter among us and we have no need to hunt any of your game at all.”
He’s clearly curious about how we’re intending to feed ourselves if not by hunting but chooses to ignore that, instead changing the subject “I should like to enquire about the hierarchy of this [Galactic] Union of yours?”
“The hierarchy?” I respond, my tone querying.
“Yes, I assume we would start at the bottom… but would there be a way for us to advance our standing in it?”
“Oh, well certainly, as it stands, you and the Twigg would represent the two least technologically developed species… and yours would be the least numerous by some way… but, if you were to join, you would be offered aid to bring your technology up to par with the other species and, in time, your population would naturally increase as a result of lower mortality rates and being able to colonise other planets… but, other than these practical realities, there is no hierarchy in the GU for you to move up or down… your representative would have as much voice as any other, their vote would count for as much as any other and your citizens would be of equal standing to any other!”
“That’s untrue…” challenges Khr’kowan.
There’s no accusation in her voice, it’s more like… confusion.
I frown at her, lightly “What makes you say that, General?”
“Because, during my time on your ship, the supremacy of the Humans of Terra was readily obvious to me!… There were easily more than 121 different species on that vessel and, you tell me, there are thousands more… but the Humans were by far the most numerous! You were the ones who mainly interacted with me and with the Twigg. The deference the other kinds showed you was clear. Even now, it is only Humans who have been allowed among you five envoys to my father!… There is, very clearly, a hierarchy and Humans are at its summit!” she misapprehends.
“Oh…” I hesitate “…well… I’m afraid you aren’t correct about that, though I can see how you might have had that impression… None of what you’ve said is false, apart from the conclusion… There are other explanations for all of that! The overrepresentation, the… seeming deference, the fact that it’s only Terrans here right now… none of it means our species is higher status than any other!”
She sneers in the style of Lin Beifong and asks “What other explanation could there be?!”
I suck in a breath through my teeth and start “Well… to explain that, I have to start by telling you a little more about the War… but… first, I have to tell you what a ‘deathworld’ is…”