---Scheme---
---Khr’kowan’s perspective---
Nervously, the small, stocky, grey furred mammalian boy leads me through the hall of the embassy in a hurried waddle that I’m able to match with a leisurely amble.
At regular intervals along our path are the armoured figures of others of his kind.
Each poorly disciplined soldier shifts uncomfortably as I pass them, turning their blank [plastic] helmets, quite obviously, to look up in my direction.
At the end of the hallway, we reach a grand, wooden door.
The attendant tentatively pushes the air in front of it, causing it to open itself just a crack.
Poking his skull through the gap, he meekly says “Your Highness… One of the deathworlders is here to see you.”
“Show her in, Margolt.” states a voice that has all the calm that this boy’s doesn’t.
Turning around, the timid aide ushers “Right this way, Your… Majesty…” hesitating in clear unease over my honorific.
The wide, tall, wooden doors are swung inward, revealing a room with all the lavish opulence one would expect of an alien royal.
Every furnishing is sturdy looking and decorated with intricate patterns of rare looking materials.
Every fabric is richly coloured and of a high seeming quality!
Every surface is polished to a mirror shine in a way that makes me worry I might dirty them just by standing too near!
A whiskered snout and a pair of black eyes turn towards me.
“Ah… Your Majesty, Empress Khr’kowan… I’m so glad you came. It’s a delight to finally meet you!” lies the finely dressed woman.
“Likewise, Princess Brathala.” I respond, neutrally.
Irritation flashes briefly over the woman’s face before she regains control of herself.
Extending a thickset arm to her right to indicate where a soft looking cushion (some [5m] long, [3m] wide and [30cm] deep) has been placed in front of her low desk for me, she simpers “Please have a seat, Your Majesty!”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” I answer, making my way to it and lowering myself down.
The boatshoes I must wear everywhere on this planet get in the way somewhat but I would definitely destroy this hassock if I took them off!
She waddles over to take a seat on a golden chair with bright red upholstery, across the sturdy desk from me, looks up and gives me a shallow smile.
“So… Your Majesty…” she starts “…it’s a very exciting time for you, isn’t it!… Your species learning you aren’t alone… coming here… experiencing all this…” she gestures out of the window to the skyline, dominated by buildings so tall that I know they must be real because I wouldn’t have been capable of imagining such things, myriad flying vehicles wending over and between them “…I’m sure it must be a little overwhelming!”
“It is rather.” I acknowledge, passively.
“Hmmm, hmmm…” she hums, feigning sympathy before offering “…Can I offer you something to drink, Your Majesty? They would all be quite deadly to me, of course, but, in preparation for your visit, I made sure we acquired some deathworld refreshments… Cola? Tea?… Coffee?”
I turn my face down to the woman who’s brazenly offering me intoxicants and answer “I’m not thirsty, Your Highness.”
Barely managing to conceal her scowl, she continues “Alright then… Do let me know if you change your mind, though…?”
“I shall … Would you mind if I asked what it is you have invited me here to discuss, Your Highness?” I ask, cautiously.
“Of course, of course! Let us proceed to the matters at hand.” she beams, disingenuously “Now… I don’t know how much you already know about me, Your Majesty?”
“I know you’re a woman of some influence in [Parliament]. I know your species are one of the oldest, richest and most powerful in the [Galactic] Union. I know that you stand as the unofficial head of the antiTerran faction and that thousands of Representatives follow your lead on their votes. I know you are no lover of deathworlders.” I supply.
Feigning hurt, she responds “Well… Your Majesty, all of that is true… save the last point you mentioned!”
“Oh?” I respond, neutrally but curiously.
“Yes… It’s quite true that I am the most influential member of Parliament to stand so fully in opposition to the Terran agenda… but I would hate for you to think that that was out of simple bigotry, Your Majesty!… Perish the thought!”
“If not, then what is your motivation for so completely opposing them?”
She gives a sad, patronising smile and stands, walking over to the window to halt, her back to me.
She extends a proportionally long, thick arm to where (I presume) the glass is and spreads her claws to gesture out at the impossibly grand vista.
“All this… the Galactic Union… The peace, stability, safety and prosperity its protection affords… It has been here for more than [a million years]…”
She turns to face me.
“Do you understand just how unfathomably long that is, Your Majesty? [A million years]!… The oldest citizen alive hasn’t even seen as much as 2% of all that history and I haven’t seen 0.015!… This polity has stood for [hundreds of thousands of years] longer than the divergence between the Sapiens and all of their extant cousins!… It was so long ago when my ancestors sat down with Representatives from 158 other species on this planet, to found this Union, that they looked noticeably different to Battan born today! The same is true for most other founding and early joining member species… Now… That probably wouldn’t sound that remarkable to a Terran, what with their familiarity with the rapidity of evolution that comes from living on a deathworld but, to be clear, it is a remarkable testament to the stability of what they founded that it has lasted so long for genetic drift to have visibly changed us!”
Here, she turns from the window, meeting my eyes and striding forward into the space between my front and her desk.
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“I implore you to understand, Your Majesty; it isn’t out of hatred that I oppose the Terrans! It’s out of concern!” she smiles, unctuously.
“Concern?” I question “What concern is that?”
Satisfied, she continues “The Terran’s rise has been meteoric, I grant… It’s only been a little more than [500 years] since they were first able to leave the Sol System, [600] since they first unified, [800] since their first powered flight and [900] since their population exceeded a billion for the first time… Such a rapid rise to their position as the most populous, the most militarily mighty, the richest and most culturally influential species upon their debut to the GU is completely unprecedented… and they deserve every accolade for that… My concern is simply that such a rate of advancement has, perhaps, left the Terran somewhat… naïve?… Callow? Brash? Overconfident, maybe?…”
Curious at the reasoning behind this woman’s assessment of Terrans, so wildly different to mine, I ask “You think so?”
“I do! I think that such a blazing rate of progress has blinded them to the value of tradition… of stability… of the proper stewardship of that which has been handed down by one’s forebears!… From the Terran’s perspective, the more they’ve changed things, the better they’ve got! Why should they slow down? Why should they stop to consider the value of that which they deem to be holding them back? Why not toss it aside with everything else they’ve decided is no longer of utility to them?!… The more of their history the Terran has discarded, the more their conditions have improved… but, this cutthroat approach to tradition, I fear, may not be sustainable in the long term… The United Terran Coalition has not yet stood the tests of time as the Galactic Union has!… [600] years with no significant internal conflict is certainly impressive (considering the bloodiness of their prior history) but it’s barely 0.05% of the time the GU has existed! Of course, a million years of completely uninterrupted peace is quite unrealistic but, until our polity encountered theirs, the bloodiest wars fought in our history only had deathtolls in the hundreds of millions… That might sound like a lot to you but, when talking of a polity with a population in the hundreds of trillions, it really isn’t!… [600 years] of relative peace is a start but it doesn’t compare to more than [a million]! Now… I will fully admit that starting the War with the Terrans was our mistake! It was ill advised and meant that, unlike most newly joining species, they did not receive the best first impression of us… and, I fear, this tends to lead the Terran to view the GU as due for an ‘overhaul’! My only wish (and, I like to think, that of my allies in Parliament too) is to temper this headstrong progressiveness of theirs!… I’m not a bigot! I’m simply a conservative… I’m simply a woman who sincerely believes that going too far, too fast and with too little thought is arrogance and likely to incur unforeseen and undesirable consequences eventually! I’m certain you must understand my position, even if you don’t share it?”
I frown “I… do understand, Your Highness… Yes.”
She gives a disingenuous smile and answers “I’m so glad, Your Majesty! Unfortunately, taking up this mantle as the voice of tradition leads many to view myself and my allies as nothing more than fusty old naysayers!… Dissmissive, negative pessimists!… Oh, and, of course, bigots, dogmatists and zealots!… I’m happy that you see eye to eye with me more than most do on these issues.”
“I do, Your Highness… However, understanding your reasoning is fairly cold comfort to me… You’re going to oppose my species’ admission to the [G]U out of this traditionalism of yours, aren’t you?”
Splaying her clawed hands she says “That’s up to you, Your Majesty…”
Very confused, I ask “‘Up to me’?… Please explain?”
Wobbling her sturdy head from side to side, she smirks and elaborates “Well… my allies and I have been conferring… We’ve read all the information on your species that has been provided by the ODR and… we have come to the conclusion that the Vrakhand more than meet the necessary requirements for acceptance… We’re quite happy not to oppose your admission!”
“Truly!?” I ask, a little more forcefully than I intended from the surprise, causing her to reflexively start back from me “…Apologies, Your Highness… I did not mean to startle you… but do you truly mean what you say?… The antiTerran faction won’t oppose our accession!?”
“I truly do, Your Majesty…” she smiles.
In spite of myself, joy wells up inside me at the thought that I might be spared the uphill battle that everyone has been assuring me would occur for my species’ recognition!
I’m about to stand and thank her from the bottom of my heart when she speaks again.
“But… there is a condition, Your Majesty…” she says, freezing my joy “…something we need before we can throw our support behind you.”
My six remaining eyes scanning her two, I ask “And… what might that be, Your Highness?”
“It pains me to say it but… we need you to disavow the Twigg…” she says, feigning regret.
“…*ahem*…Pardon?”
“Your people seem civilised, Your Majesty… Unified, lawful, measured, restrained… Theirs… do not… We have come to the conclusion that they aren’t ready for technological uplift… For gods’ sakes, they don’t even have a concept of ownership yet!… If we gave them the unfettered access to the galaxy that GU membership allows, we would be simply begging them to become the next generation of thieves, pirates and lazy welfare scroungers! Their culture would ossify in its current, undesirable state and the negative effects would ripple down through the ages!… We feel they have some maturing to do as a species before they’re ready to participate on the galactic stage. We’re asking that you cast them aside for the moment and perhaps use your headstart in the GU to guide them to improve!… Do this… and you can count on no significant opposition to Vrakhand acceptance into the GU.”
Staggered, I’m at a loss for words for some long moments.
Eventually, I manage “That’s it?”
With smug selfsatisfaction, she begins “Yes, Your Majesty, once you’ve declared to Parliament that the Twigg aren’t yet fit for membership, I’ll begin…”
I splay my palm towards her and say “No, that’s not what I mean!”
She frowns “What do you mean, Your Majesty?”
Utterly incredulous, I can’t help but giggle as I observe “*hehehehehe* I just… I didn’t expect it… *hehe*… to be so…*hehehe*… simplistic… this manipulation of yours!”
Her face drops.
“‘Manipulation’? I’m afraid I don’t…”
I stand up, causing her to jump backwards, impacting her desk.
“I really thought you would be cunning, Princess!” I laugh “From the way Representative Rain spoke of you, I thought you would be a master manipulator, capable of making me doubt everything I thought I knew and… this is it!?… This is the best you can do?!… This shallow attempt to drive a wedge between our species and make us disavow eachother? This inane effort to make both of us look like we aren’t ready to join the [G]U, since we can’t even cooperate with eachother!?… That was what you came up with?! My uncle is a subtler schemer(!)”
She’s too stunned to reply.
I turn and make for the doors, still chuckling to myself over the unexpectedly childish, facile nature of the woman’s scheme.
As they start to open for me, I turn my head back to the woman, still frozen in fear against her desk.
“Perhaps you’ll have more luck in convincing Representative Viig when she comes here this afternoon, Your Highness… I doubt it though!” I smile as I walk away.
---Brathala’s perspective---
A pair of slitpupiled, yellow eyes stare at me as the inebriated deathworlder’s mouth falls open, revealing four terrifying conical fangs as she puzzles over my words with a dim looking expression.
Then, she shuts her eyes, bares her teeth, tips back her head and…
“*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*!” she roars in laughter.
“It’s…” I start, only to be immediately cut off.
“*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*!!!” she continues, so loudly and raucously that there’s no point in trying to interrupt.
Finally, she manages to regain control of herself and opens her eyes.
“You must REAAAAAAAAAAALLY think I’m stupid!” she smirks, infuriatingly “The answer’s ‘no’!”
She hops down from the seat provided and turns for the door.
Then, she stops.
There’s a brief moment where I think the hesitation might be her reconsidering… perhaps I’ll get a second chance to convince her?
That is until she half turns, reaches out a hand, snags the mostly full bottle of Terran drinking ethanol that I was plying her with and continues to the door, her only acknowledgement of the theft being to hold up the expensive bottle of poison to say “Thanks!” without turning to look at me!
I collapse against my throneback, looking up at the ceiling in dismay at both of the women seeing right through my ploy!
“*sob*… I hate deathworlders!”