We Need a Deathworlder!

After the newly arrived Ambassadors step into the meeting, the state of Gratt embassy lounge area can only be otherwise explained as a setup to a dark joke. Groups of Terrans, Mikk, Z’ah’tuck and Watath stand in their own sections of the area all while still socially connecting to the excitedly accommodating Gratt. Although the Terrans and Mikk are -for the most part- comfortable with each other’s presence, the elevated awkward tension of the old Deathworld rivals eyeing one another is profoundly dense.

A young Gratt male after initially helping the Watath settle in steps aside to a group of his compatriots organizing refreshments.

“It feels as though we are standing in the middle of several gragna beasts disputing over a cave…” he chitters to the others.

“I couldn’t agree more… despite this ‘cave’ being ours at that. They have been polite guests otherwise, but I wish they would be more considerate that this embassy just recovered from a violent attack. This attitude they are projecting is in very poor taste.” a female preparing vessels of drinking water replies.

“Keep in mind these people of the stars share a long history of conflict with each other. No doubt filled with strife, bloodshed and bitter loss. We should be thankful that they all aren’t openly antagonizing one another and cannot expect other people of the stars to rationalize like us.” and older male reminds as he navigates a datapad slightly clumsily, trying to properly check notes on what species can and can’t eat.

“Of course, but still… I wish to the ancestors’ spirits that they would all relax a bit.” the female says with a shrug.

The young male scratches a claw to his noseless face in thought before then coming up with a possible idea to improve the current situation.

“Tirviee, may I invite some of our guests for a game of Gizmo Dash?” he inquires to the older male.

Tirviee looks back at the younger male with an uncertain glance before eyeing back to the entire space behind him.

“You may ask around if there’s interest… but do not overly insist and be prepared to be turned away.” he grants.

Waving his tail excitedly, the younger male nods quickly before rushing to a far corner where they grab the desired game box in a side storage drawer.

Once in hand, he first goes to the tall reptilians with accompanying quadrupedal mammal pets as they happen to be the closest. Out of all the species they huddle the closest together petting their animals while eyeing the other guest Deathworlders with preemptive ‘stay away’ stares that promises a less than agreeable outcome if any come close in the wrong way.

“Greetings! I am Charl. It is customary for my people to pass time with competitive games. Would one or more of you be interested in participating?” he politely asks.

The Z’ah’tuck look amongst each other with an array of their people’s expressions. However most come across as dismissively amused in one form or another.

One of the larger ones with a naturally armored face gave the Gratt a respectful nod.

“The offer is appreciated, but no.” he replies.

“Very well, if anyone changes their mind please don’t hesitate to come play.” Charl says as he steps away to give the Z’ah’tuck more space.

Expecting not all of the species being interested, the young Gratt continues on to the cluster of Watath laying about on some rearranged furniture where he gives them the exact same introduction and offer.

Hissing amongst themselves it’s immediately clear that none wanted to be there in the first place and are hoping to ease the passing of time by minimizing contact with most others present as much as possible.

“Apologies, Gratt. But we’d prefer to not be bothered with such things at a time like this.” one says for the rest of the group.

“Oh… well I understand. The offer remains open if the mood strikes.” Charl excuses himself before turning away and moving towards the Mikk with a bit of a disappointed drag in his step.

But before getting close to the next bunch of Deathworlders he internally amps himself up into his introduction.

“Greetings! My name is Charl, I’m curious if any of you’d like to take part in a Gratt pastime? It’s a simple but enjoyable game called Gizmo Dash.” he offers.

The marshall-uniform dressed Mikk give the Gratt more genuine consideration that the previous two attempts, but with a general over-awareness of the other species present seem to falter rather quickly.

A Mikk with the longest face tendrils and an adoring golden shoulder pauldron stepped up crossing her arms.

“I’m afraid we must decline. Children’s games have their time and place, but for us this isn't one.” she responds.

“Children’s…?” Charl starts to question in a confused manner before remembering that there must be significant cultural differences for these other species, “I understand. Apologies for-” he begins to dismiss before planning on putting the game away, but as he turns to walk away he runs right into a large framed body that had approached him from behind.

Chittering in surprise as he nearly drops his box, Charl looks up to see a tall Terran male.

“Whoops, sorry there young man.” the Terran speaks in a deep vocal laughter before easily looking over the Gratt to address the Mikk, “Come now, our hosts are going to have to deal with all of us for a few hours, the least we can do is indulge them in their customs, no?”

The captain of the Mikk ambassador guards uncrossed her arms, seemingly very surprised by the Terran’s behavior.

“Well, perhaps… But surely this simply isn’t appropriate for-” she started to say before the Terran man raised his hand in a chuckle.

“Please… after all the times of escorting Ambassador Lee to your embassy did you really not expect us to notice you discreetly playing vid-games during talks?” he points out as he places a firm hand on the Gratt’s shoulder.

The Mikk’s face tendrils flick in irritation as if given a lowly insult.

“Those are not mere vid-games. Those are government sanctioned battle and war planning simulations.” she defends to the agreement of the other Mikks behind her.

“Right… that’s why they’re played in professional gaming leagues…” The Terran argues with an eye roll.

The Mikk scoffs as she re-crosses her arms.

“It’s not the simulations’ fault that such entertainment industries find them so well crafted and appealing. They test the mind and skills of the participants while educating and evaluating their level of competence in such a way that anyone can participate. And we have never not encouraged that.” she counters.

“Sure… So you’d invite me to play- I’m sorry, ‘participate’ next time we roll up?” the Terran inquires.

“I don’t see why not. I would go as far as to encourage it as such things are excellent bonding experiences.” the Mikk replies.

“Hey, that’s great to hear! Sharing a small part of your culture is half the reason why any of us are even here in Central after all. But imagine you did openly offer, only for me to dismiss it as a ‘children’s game’.” the man spells out, “I’d be rather rude in doing so, wouldn’t I?”

The Mikk opens her mouth to respond as if about to spell out the ‘obvious’ differences in the circumstances, but the man’s point is made. Gazing down at the green individual she closes all but her upper third eye as she bows her head.

“I… may have let the stress of the situation get to me. I apologize for demeaning you and your people. You have been nothing but superb hosts and deserve more respect than I’ve offered.” she says earnestly.

“Oh… all is forgiven. I understand that tensions are high at the moment and just thought I’d offer sharing a way that my people often relax from stress.” Charl replies sheepishly.

The Mikk nods in sincerity, opening her lower eyes back up.

“That’s more like it. Now why don’t we give this game of theirs a go? Worst case we resume standing around feeling like someone should be singing ‘Waa-wa-waaaa…’ in the background.” the man said singing the ‘waa’s in a singing high pitch

“Wah…whah?” The Mikk initially responds before another Mikk from behind her leans in.

“He’s referencing an old Terran musical melody that played in old movies called ‘Westerns’. Oftentimes it’s meant to build suspense as two or more pivotal enemies face off in the open, waiting for the other to make the first move.” he informs, which gets curious glances from all of his companions causing him to shrink away slightly, “I… uhm… had an extended voyage last furlough and there were several free classic Terran movies available…” he further explains before looking away as if to disassociate from the conversation.

Staring at the individual for a moment longer the head Mikk flicked her face tendrils once more before taking a moment to consider the Gratt’s game.

“I suppose I can at the very least repay your hospitality by participating in one round of this… game.” she agreed.

Charl’s four eyes go wide in excitement and his tail begins to whip around in excitement.

“I’m honored to have you, thank you!” he chitters before looking up to the Terran, “And I thank you too.” he said with the most sincere gratitude a Gratt can exude. Which is not insignificant.

Bursting out in another laugh the man firmly pats the Gratt’s back once.

“If I can wrangle my daughters to play nice with each other, this is a piece of cake. The name’s Jabari by the way, overheard yours was Charl right?” he says as he starts walking with the Gratt to the very center of the lounge area where there’s an unclaimed table.

“Yes! It’s a pleasure to meet you Jabari. I’ll start setting everything up.” Charl replies as he opens the box and removes a deck of thick hexagonal parchment cards and what honestly looks like random well polished mechanical junk.

“Three players enough?” Jabari inquires as he starts to look back at the other Mikk and Terrans who eye the happenings with curiosity, but remain firm on keeping their main focus on the other present deathworlder groups.

“Yes, but more players is always extra fun!” the Gratt answers as he aptly sets up the table.

“I’ll play!” Troy volunteers, having finally failed in restraining himself from jumping in to the surprise of Jabari and delight of Charl.

“Okay!” the Gratt replies with the same energy Troy excludes.

Jabari looks the frat-boy-man up and down with a hint of skepticism, but reaches out a hand in greeting.

“Jabari Youssef. I must admit that intel on you in particular is pretty sparse, grow up outside Union space?” he asks.

“Yessir! Not much intel to have, you know. Ah, but name’s Troy Calland.” the younger man replies as he gives the man a firm handshake.

“I see, you play much of these sorts of games?” Jabari inquires.

“Well, kinda. I’m more of a vid-game guy, but I’ve played a lotta drinking games so I’m sure there’s some cross over there.” Troy says as he shrugs and scratches the back of his head.

“Sure bud…” Jabari chuckles while patting the younger man on his back, “Well you’re more than welcome to give it a go. I’m gonna warn ya though… My oldest is a chess champion, and she had to have someone to practice with.”

“Yeah well I once got a perfect game in beer pong.” Troy retorts in a jest as his eyes then look to the Z’ah’tuck and Watath, “I’ll be right back…” he informs before -to the other Terrans’ dread and annoyance- makes his way towards the old enemies.

-

Zrreak sits in silence along with everyone else, his claws scratching the back of his oblivious pure of heart corgi after being wholly caught up in the ‘Manarian’ plot alongside the Mikk and Watath ambassadors.

“Why reveal this to us now, and not to us along with all of Central?” The Watath ambassador Sheeria questions, breaking the silence, “Are you wishing to undermine Central in hopes to shift all the bargaining power to the Union?” he questions skeptically, “And is the Union’s aim to submit the non-member deathworlders into vassalship from this looming threat? If not, I’m curious as to why this meeting has been brought together at all.”

Bernal puts one hand in the other as she leans forward in her seat.

“I’ll declare here and now that the Union will not consider vassal nations in this meeting, nor will we reach out afterwards. This meeting is to propose something else altogether. As for informing Central, that is our next step after we hash out some important long running issues between our nations first. Central is the most powerful entity in the galaxy and absolutely will be presented with everything you have, but rallying and effectively directing the other powerful nations such as those who sit here now? Well, you know the answer. As non-members, the Terran Union, Watath Conglomerate and the Z’ah’tuck Sovereign Packs will be forcefully absorbed or left to their own devices in such a conflict.” she says before then acknowledging the odd one out, “The Mikk being a unique exception, however due to the multiple existing military intervention agreements between the Union and Central… at best the Mikk Coalition will be widely divided, or forced to settle on which alliance to solely invest in.”

The Mikk ambassador Feedlal nods.

“That is true.” he agrees, “In either case we may severely struggle to properly defend our home territories. It’s a… grim reality that the Mikk may not have a persevering nation in such a devastating conflict these Manarians promise to bring with them.”

Bernal sighs out of her nose and looks back to everyone in attendance.

“Suppose there’s no need to beat around the bush, as recommended to me by Princess Chakalata’Motaas the Union wishes to propose a Federation alliance between all peoples present. We let Central prepare as they will, while we rally and organize to better aid in the defense of the galaxy. Our peoples would be a separate united force that not only mutually protects one another, but everyone. When the invasion does eventually come, we’d stand together and coordinate rather than fend for ourselves as Central is preoccupied with the brunt.” she lays out simply, deciding that flowering it with political jargon isn’t necessary.

The Watath Ambassador hisses as a mix of feelings surge through his mind.

“I don’t see such an arrangement as feasible. As dire as the situation is, even if what your offering is truly fair to all parties… the deeply bitter waters we’ve mutually left behind us is permanently tinted with the blood of far too many lives. The Watath and Terrans simply can’t voyage under the same sails with our history.” Sheeria says, “We’d end up being more of a hindrance to one another than assets.”

“I don’t think that’s true at all. With all due respect, ambassador.” Simone speaks up before anyone else.

The Mikk and Watath ambassadors seem rather perplexed by the redhead’s interjection.

“And… who are you?” the Watath inquires incredulously.

“An ex-Union soldier who served. I’ve killed a lot of Watath combatants and watched good people I’ve personally known die at the hands of your soldiers. But I’ve also seen that despite looking nothing alike, we are much more alike than one would assume. Your people treated our POWs with respect, and we did in turn. As much as it was discouraged, we spoke and socialized with one another often. I believe that given the chance, that bitterness will fade into nothing more than notes of history to learn from. I’ve seen the worst of what your people are capable of and still have nightmares about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t adore or love my first adopted child any less. And even though I’ll be raising them the best I can in the best way I know how, they will not be ignorant of their people’s culture and history.” Simone says before directly sending Sheeria her family verification codes and images of Essjay to further back her words.

The Watath Ambassador quickly verifies the legitimacy of the codes before looking over the various images of the youth engaging in their personal artwork.

“I’ve heard a Terran was officially accepted into a family…” he hisses softly, “And it seems the child is still… healthy and well looked after. But even so, your personal experience is not reflective of how our entire societies would cooperate in such a proposed alliance.”

“It’s not just about my experience. If we don’t cooperate, then we further risk us all losing. The point of this alliance isn’t to kiss and make up, it’s to stand together against a common threat. We won’t have the time or energy to be at each other’s throats until everything is lost anyway. After the dust settles, then we can decide how we feel about each other.” Simone argues more firmly, “I know you have your people’s well being and future weighing on you and as their voice on the galactic stage you have to consider them with every decision you make. But do you honestly believe that separating your people from this proposal after learning all that you have is the best for them? I really don’t mean to sound like I’m talking down to you, but I am asking that you see the writing on the wall. No one here can or will force your hand in guiding your people and government down this path, but this really is everyone’s best chance and I know you see that.” Simone asserts, causing the room to fall silent once more.

After a few standard seconds Sheeria rattles his head and back plates.

“I do, but if I am to bring this to my government and convince them without contention or contesting. I’ll need something to further back this momentous course of action and that this alliance is indeed formed in good faith and mutual protection.” he insists.

Bernal purses her lips knowingly.

“And what would that something be?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“The territories in the Calboor Arm systems. We still see it as rightfully ours, before the Union came and casted us out.” Sheeria immediately responds.

Bernal sighs and pinches the space between her eyes.

“Once again… the Union already had recognised claims on several of the systems. We were fine allowing you to have the rest, but your people overstepped their bounds and started establishing mining operations in our claimed systems.” she says in a tired tone.

“Your claims were brought into question when the grace period of actually establishing yourselves was about to run out, nullifying your claims by Central law. There was no indication that the Union would be able to build facilities in time. We refused to leave because you couldn’t provide sufficient proof that the Union could meet the deadline.” Sheeria counters in a stern hiss.

“We did provide our plans, but you didn’t find it ‘satisfactory’. We were well in our rights in the eyes of Central to forcefully but humanely remove your facilities. Things wouldn’t have escalated past that if one of your fleets wasn’t sent in-” Bernal argues before a Cali interjects herself into the conversation.

“This has already been covered and re-covered between your peoples. No need for an argumentative history lesson. Now, Bernal. Is it or is it not true that the Union conquered the entire Calboor arm systems after the conflict? Even the systems that were originally all legitimately originally the Watath’s?” Chak inquires knowingly.

Bernal leans back slightly, surprised that the Cali took aim at her first.

“Yes. But it the conflict wouldn’t end unless-” she starts to defend before the Cali raised an upper hand and looked at the Sheeria.

“And regardless if the Union was able to achieve cementing their claims, they by galactic law still had every right to those systems and your people did illegally invade upon Union territory.” Chak points out without leaving room for argument before continuing, “So I see a simple compromise here; The Union returns all of the systems that were originally the Watath’s, and the Watath agree to join the forming federation. I’m certain further agreements and arrangements can be made regarding existing mining and other establishing facilities that may need to exchange ownership due to this. Maybe even form them into Federation-dedicated resources? Regardless of those details, would something like that be satisfactory?”

Bernal closes her eyes and leans forward in serious consideration while Sheeria’s back plates click in rapid contemplative movements.

“Such a surrendering of territory will greatly upset a lot of people on Titan… but I will agree to surrendering back those Territories if the Watath agree to join the federation.” President Bernal says before looking to Ambassador Lee, waiting for his input on such a decision.

“Madam President, I won’t lie, it may anger more than simply Titan. But I concur with your decision.” he affirms, “If we are to truly unite, then obtaining some goodwill of the Watath people is vital.”

Nodding more assuredly in her decision, Bernal addresses the Watath Ambassador once more.

“The Union is also prepared to supply more ships to the Watath military, and will aid in efforts to help you resettle those systems.” she adds to help seal the deal.

“I believe that will be enough.” Sheeria finally replies with a bow of his head, “Although I cannot promise it, I’m confident that after sharing what I know, the Watath government will agree to joining this federation as well.” he agrees.

At that the mood of the room lifts significantly.

Holding back a sigh of tremendous relief , Chak then speaks to the familiar Z’ah’tuck with her eyes aglow.

“I hope you hold no ill feelings towards me for not sharing the Manarian situation with you sooner, Zrreak.” she says earnestly.

Lifting a clawed hand from his corgi he gives the princess a reassuring wave.

“It’s all understandable, I was the one to approach you with our current agreement after all. And I see no reason how this would change that. However, before I agree to this alliance… I have terms of my own.” he says.

“From the Union I assume?” Bernal asks for clarification.

“Partially, and I believe my terms are much less of a plucked mane. Us Z’ah’tuck are well versed in linking packs together to take down larger threats. Much of our legends entail us doing just that. So I see the high value of such an alliance. But nonetheless my terms are as follows; The Union opens up its immigration to all members of the federation. Direct access to purchasing Union canine breeds. The Z’ah’tuck meat markets are to remain under Z’ah’tuck ownership indefinitely. Open Watath fishing markets for additional trade deals. And finally… the federation aid’s the Z’ah’tuck military’s efforts in reclaiming the throne for Chakalata’Motaas.”

Chak sits straighter in her seat. She planned on bringing this up much later in the discussions, but Zrreak preemptively having it as a term to the alliance is nothing but shocking.

Before anyone can properly respond Zrreak speaks up again.

“The Cali Kingdom will be joining this federation, yes? Well with their current King I do not see that as being possible. And considering this Cali King is a servant to these Manarains, it should be a high priority to quell his efforts.” he reasons.

“Central… will very likely not approve. Perhaps that can wait until they are informed of why we would initiate a war upon the Cali?” The Mikk Ambassador points out.

“It will hopefully not result in a war. It can be a single engagement to take my world back and depose my father. He is illegitimate, Central knows this despite not taking action. I am the rightful ruler of the Cali people, and you will be acting on my behalf., the Cali’s behalf. You would not be fighting the Cali, you’d be liberating us.” Chak argues, not wasting this gift that Zrreak has given her, “And I’ll assure that we join this federation, and do our part.”

Lacing her fingers, Bernal’s eyes look back and forth between the Zrreak and Chak.

“Your terms are agreeable. I concur that handling the Cali King and his compromising threat on galactic security should be a priority. With a rightful leader in our midst, we do have a theoretical way to end the conflict relatively swiftly. The Union will help spearhead this effort after we flush out our own compromised government and military figures.” she agrees, “Everyone else? You don’t need to promise ships or soldiers, but your material or permissive support for this effort is needed.” she redirects to the other ambassadors.

“If the Union is involved, the Mikk Coalition will take part militarily as well.” Feedlal confirms.

“As long as our homeworld’s fishing market is off the table… I will bring my support of these terms to the rest of our government. Although again I cannot make promises at this time, I’m certain we will be more than able to provide a fleet and ground troops for the effort.” Sheelia states.

Ambassador Jeevan’s ears drop slightly as he knows such grand violent decisions are new to the Gratt people. War was a rarity and short lived in their history, but now they faced the grandest multiple conflicts they will ever know. But the stars are their home now, and no matter the threat the Gratt have always been loyal to their community and ready to defend it.

“Bernal.” he says to gain the president’s direct attention, “The Gratt are willing to provide double the permitted Terran colony territory on our homeworld that I’ve initially proposed. But in turn the Union must expedite training and manufacturing of weapons and gear. Additionally, we want to extend your protective vanguard fleet over our world until the Manarian threat is dealt with. Is this agreeable?”

“Expediting such things is possible, but I’m not sure if we can provide it in the timeframe you’re hoping for.” Bernal replies honestly.

“Then allow the Z’ah’tuck to pick up the slack.” Zrreak offers to the Gratt’s surprise, “From the footage I’ve managed to acquire, I believe the Gratt and Z’ah’tucj have much in common when it comes to combative techniques and methods. And with much less modification, we can provide armor and gear far faster than the Union can. In turn, we request the right to hold businesses on this proposed colony.”

“The Union sees no reason to object.” Bernal nods.

“I accept these terms. In that case…” Jeevan takes a moment to fortify himself, “The Gratt will provide soldiers and warriors for the Cali cause.” he commits.

The Squilla Ambassador Cas is the last to speak.

“I cannot issue military force, as we don’t have a standing military yet. However, we can work as repair and engineering crews to aid in maintaining war vessels. We may also be able to provide medical personnel if granted. We can grasp sufficient information to do so if provided the relevant educational material.”

“Then it’s settled, we can hash out the details after we can confirm with the Watath government that they accept what has been presented today. In fact I say we call a recess while we all correspond with all our governments.” Bernal proposes.

“Agreed.” the Watath immediately replies as he gets out of his seat.

As the ambassadors temporarily depart, Chak and Simone meet up and move towards the doors to directly share the good news with their companions. When the doors part they are immediately blasted by the eruptive sounds of intermingled disturbing screams, screeches. roars and hisses.

Simone quickly steps in front of Chak expecting the Deathworlders to be bucturing one another in a bloody fray.

But they soon realize that couldn’t be further from the truth. Nearly all the Deathworlders were sitting or standing around a center table in close proximity of several individuals race desperately cramming what looks like polished junk together to create nonsensical contraptions.

“Gizmo Dash!” Meeki chitters out in excitement as she and Nodirin come up from behind and rush past to encourage their poly-partner Troy who is clearly struggling terribly.

Simone and Chak look over the the multiple Deathworlders stand in close proximity, too enraptured with the apparent game being played. They cheer and react to the intense racing of the players as they construct items that are designated on a chosen card. Several times in the rush a similar but incorrect part is placed to the urgent uproar to the supporting individuals.

But instead of engaging, the duo silently step aside and walk into a small empty side office. As soon as the door closes and locks, they stand in muffled silence for a few moments. Their mutual breathing gradually intensifies.

Simone then turns and takes the now shaking Princess into her arms. As soon as Chak feels the immense security of her fiance’s embrace, her eyes turn gray while intensely sparking with glowing red light in sharp intervals. Her sobbing starts up within milliseconds and she wraps her arms as tightly around the redhead as she can.

Not even trying to fight it, Simone lowers them both to sit on the ground, not trusting the composure of her legs as though she is a frightened Cali. She heaves her air as she erupts into sobs as well, holding Chak like before.

No words are spoken between them for the duration they sit like this. But the shared feeling can not be more amazingly, beautifully, wonderfully clear.

They. Fucking. Did it.