Diplomacy

by May Sage

  Hart found his sister halfway and pulled her into a dark alley.

  “That can’t be right. It’s just some trick, they’re trying to draw us in. They’ll kill us,” she said frantically.

  He nodded; she was echoing his thoughts, as always.

  And after a beat, she added the other sentiment stuck in his mind. “But what if it isn’t?”

  They had simply had to find out.

  A month after the illegal recording was broadcasted, they put in for a leave of absence. Hart hadn’t had much hope. He hadn’t—couldn’t have—believed in a place where their kind wasn’t hunted.

  He’d been wrong.

  Following the rumors, the talks, their instincts, and a strange shift of power they felt to their very bones, the twins eventually found the insurgents, and their leader.

  Kai Lor was the opposite of Kraul Rexis, king of Zeru.

  Seeing Kai was believing in the dream, accepting that the utopia was underway. He was the sort of leader one would follow blindly to hell and back. There was an aura of authority and conviction around him. Kai was harsh, dark, cruel when he needed to be. But at the core, Kai was kindness. Their worlds would be better once he ruled them. Hart would have bent the knee if Kai had been the kind to demand it. He was entirely devoted to his ideals. The sector they were shaping together would be kinder than the one they were born into.

  And if they had to trample over the likes of Kraul Rexis to get there, so be it. But while hurting the king wouldn’t have stopped Hart from sleeping soundly at night, his job was to attempt to limit the suffering of those who had no say in matters of war.

  With all his patience, Hart yet again attempted to get his point across.

  “You do not wish to condemn your people to a war on the ground against us. We will win.” Quickly, and with hardly any effort. Zeru wasn’t the first planet they’d conquered and it certainly wasn’t the most challenging.

  Hart had been twenty, year 1214, when the insurgents took their first system, Tenera. Now, eight years later, it was almost routine.

  “All that we will require of you is that you sign a treaty ensuring that you will now, and forevermore, abolish slavery, stop murdering mages, and defer to our leader. Your association with the Matlarian guild is also to come to an end. We will otherwise leave the ruling of your world in your hands.” Highly incompetent as said hands were.

  Hart would have preferred someone capable in charge, but he liked to compromise with the local authorities where he could. Besides, it just wouldn’t do to waste their resources on this inconsequential system. There were too many planets and Zeru had few desirable assets. The insurgents had no reason to wish to directly control it.

  They’d bothered to annex it for a few reasons. First and foremost, because Zeru had an understanding with the Matlarian guild, an association started on the Matlar system a long time ago. It was mostly run by the wealthiest individuals in the Ratna Belt, although Hart had reasons to believe that some of their leaders were imperial. That made them twice as dangerous.

  The guild had no political affiliation, but its commercial power and its influence were considerable. Hart wasn’t one to bother those who did no harm; he paid no mind to the merchant guild, although they were mostly thieves and mercenaries. If the Matlarian had just been a group of entrepreneurs from the outskirts of their sector, he would have had no problem with them. But they were known for using slaves, sponsoring blood sports, and illegally hunting non-Evris sentient beings, among other things. They were a cancer in the heart of the Belt.

  There were many races in the galaxy; Evris weren’t the most numerous race by a long shot. They weren’t the smartest, the kindest, or the most gifted, either. But in one short millennium, they’d taken control of most planets with usable resources and set up governments that lorded over everyone else. They were at the top of the food chain because the one thing they excelled at was destruction. They’d won every war against other races.

  Treaties had been signed long ago; Evris were at peace with the rest of the galaxy and hurting another sentient being was highly illegal. It was murder, plain and simple.

  That didn’t stop the Matlarians.

  Putting an end to them was Hart’s personal quest. Kai had bigger concerns; an active open war against a warlord, for one. But the Matlarians weren’t one enemy set up on one planet, huddled in a castle. They had infiltrated various fields on almost every planet in the Belt. Drawing them out was going to take time and cunning. It was impossible to attack them head on when they were part of everything; they needed to be sucked out like poison from a wound, without hurting the host organism, the multi-planetary kingdom they all called home.

  Cutting their influence out of Zeru was important. The system might have little interest in itself, but it was on the way to a few notable destinations, which meant that its one value was as a potential pit stop for fuel, parts and supply replenishment. The Matlarians had needed their discreet location; they could stop there to replenish their tanks without anyone caring about due diligence, checking their cargo, or even recording their whereabouts. Taking that away from the guild was one step in the right direction.

  Hart had been able to convince Kai to take Zeru because the placement was also advantageous to them, for the very same reasons. Zeru was only two parsecs away from Vratis; they could get to the main planet in the sector in one warp jump from here. When they finally got around to taking on the warlord’s home head on, Zeru would be a valuable base.

  Still, there was a difference between conquering a planet and being forced to directly rule it. If the idiotic king did refuse the favorable deal, they might have no choice but to take it by force and occupy it, which would be a waste of resources.

  Hart scanned the room, hoping to find at least one reasonable advisor in the sea of obstinate regular Evris frowning down upon him. He felt an abundance of animosity and fear. Beyond that, there was something else, something he knew the feel, the smell of. He didn’t even need to read into the regulars’ minds to identify it.

  Greed.

  They were all set against his proposal because it would affect their pocketbooks. Slavery made these males and females rich. Their understanding with the Matlarians was valuable. Behind the king, two females stood, frowning, clenching their fists. They were both very comely, despite their obvious resemblance to the slightly portly king. They had his dark hair and his amber eyes.

  The females stood out to Hart, strangely. His aversion for prejudiced regulars wasn’t strong, verging on indifference. It was the system, their education, and their beliefs that he hated; they were nothing but the product of a sick world in the process of being cured.

  And yet, Hart had a visceral negative reaction to the two females who could only be sisters. He looked at them with irritation, annoyance. Like there was something wrong with them, something missing. Why, he couldn’t say.

  Redirecting his attention, Hart noticed a boy too young to attend such a meeting, hiding behind the sisters. The boy had the same eyes. His were full of curiosity, rather than fear.

  Had the king brought his children to make Hart feel sorry for them? It wouldn’t work. Hart wouldn’t wish any harm to befall any of them, but if the negotiations failed, there would be war and there was no telling what would become of the picture perfect, unexplainably irritating family. If the royal children were hurt, the blame would lie on Kraul’s shoulders, not Hart’s.

  Another amber-eyed Evris distinguished himself, standing far from the king, to the right, and holding himself very straight, shoulders back. He was muscular and in good form for a man of fifty or so. His habit was black, red and gold, and over a dozen decorations had been added to his shoulders. Hart recognized him as a seasoned military man. The planet would, no doubt, have fared better if it had been ruled by that man, but the king looked older, so stupid laws of successions had obviously struck.

  “We will not fall to terrorists,” the king screeched, still going at it. “The warlord will
send troops and pulverize you scum.”

  Hart endeavored to keep his face clear of expression while dealing with enemies but he allowed himself a rare smile. Wasn’t the deluded king cute?

  “I’m certain he’ll try.”

  Hadn’t this male followed the news around the Ratna Belt? The warlord was trying to reclaim the systems they had taken, and failing. Besides, Enlil’s efforts were focused on relevant systems; no one would come to reclaim Zeru, of all places. The self-important king didn’t seem to realize the insignificance of his domain.

  “We have friends in high places!” he claimed, probably rightfully.

  The Matlarians, no doubt. How Hart wished that taking an outer border territory would be enough to draw them out.

  Hart was about to gently attempt to enlighten Kraul about his utter insignificance in the grand scheme of things, when he instinctively turned to his left. He felt a presence approaching long before he heard footsteps or saw the female entering the throne hall.

  When she did appear, Hart’s eyes remained on the newcomer; for how long, he couldn’t tell. He watched, intrigued, alarmed, confused, and incapable of detaching his eyes from her.

  There she is.

  Suddenly, all irritation about the two brown-nose princesses left him. He regained some of his patience towards Kraul. Hart found that he didn’t mind being here at all.

  The female who’d entered was another royal, that much was obvious. He now recognized the signs: the amber eyes and red, black, and gold clothing. She did rather look like the sisters. The same long dark hair, although the other females had theirs styled prettily, curled and knotted.

  The newcomer had just tied it up on her head and braided it out of the way, practically. She wore form-fitting dark gear, easy to move in. Hart noted a military-grade exosuit fitted at her wrist and a communicator similar to his at the side of her jaw.

  She was a regular, he could tell. There was a different aura around mages; stronger, heavier. And yet, while she didn’t possess the sort of overwhelming presence demanding attention, she strangely made him think of Evi, the general of their fleet.

  One of the sisters was taller, thinner, more buxom, with painted red lips and fineries around her limbs. Hart didn’t doubt that she was considered the beauty. The other one was smaller but well endowed; her hourglass figure and sensual look would have turned many heads.

  Most might have called the third female plainer, yet she was the only one to retain Hart’s attention. The others, he’d analyzed critically, looking at them only to attempt to make out their character, just like he had with the king and every other person in the room. Knowing the enemy was essential to his job.

  But Hart didn’t attempt to understand this female’s motivation, to decide if she might prove to be a threat or an ally. He just appreciated her beauty. Then he saw the bags under her eyes and wished to know why she seemed so drained. He firmly pinned her under his gaze and wondered what she made of him, when her pretty mouth popped open in surprise. Was she afraid of him? Perhaps. Probably.

  For another moment, he watched her. No. She didn’t seem afraid at all.

  The female was…fierce. Fierce and beautiful.

  “What is this?” she demanded to know, eyes narrowed.

  Her voice had an air of authority, sharp and clear.

  “Quiet, child,” said the king, reprimanding her like she was an unruly teenager speaking out of turn in a grownup meeting.

  She recoiled and Hart found himself curling his fists and breathing out to keep himself in check. Foolish king. A stupid male like Kraul had no business snapping at someone like her. No one should. But losing control over his powers right now wasn’t a good idea.

  “This,” he replied slowly, ignoring Kraul’s interjection, “is the preamble to invasion. We have incapacitated your fleet and your shields and our forces are about to descend upon your planet. I am here to negotiate your surrender. There is no need for war.”

  The female’s eyes widened, went to the decorated older male and then settled on him again. While Hart saw some surprise in her deep, golden amber irises, it didn’t linger long. Within seconds, she was calculating, scheming, thinking.

  He liked it more than he would admit.

  “You’re insurgents,” said she, her voice sounding quite accusatory. “Mages.”

  Hart inclined his head and watched with interest as her face closed off. He noted that he had yet to see her display any sign of fear. Now she seemed pissed, however.

  She’d had dealings with a mage before and it hadn’t ended well, he guessed.

  Curiosity lapped at the edge of his mind, demanding answers, urging him to reach out and take all knowledge from the warrior princess’ pretty skull. But he was here on business. Regretfully, he redirected his attention toward the king of all idiocy.

  “We will not wait long for an answer. Decide within the hour.”

  “I don’t need an hour, you disgusting freak. Guards! Seize him!”

  The order came as no surprise. It wasn’t the first time that he’d received such a welcome. Hart didn’t move, regarding the sweating, shivering soldiers who surrounded him, their exoweapons at hand, with pity.

  “And so, you choose war. Very well.”

  Hart didn’t flinch or react any other way. If the king was foolish enough to order him to be hurt or killed, he’d witness, first-hand, the reason why Hart didn’t feel it necessary to go everywhere with an escort of guards.

  The thought of having to resort to violence in front of the young child pained him. The curious boy wasn’t even a teenager yet; he didn't need to see bloodshed. And Hart would have preferred to not make an enemy of the intriguing female that had inspired so much of his curiosity. Probably too late for that.

  Thankfully, King Kraul wasn’t quite dumb enough to attempt to have him executed. Yet.

  “Take him to the dungeon and contact his fleet of monsters. Let them know that if they don’t leave, we’ll execute him at first light.”

  Never mind. He truly was stupid. A shame, really.

  Unbeknownst to Kraul, communicating anything to Kai wasn’t necessary.

  “Seriously? This guy is a complete moron. What fleet is likely to retreat because one negotiator is taken as a hostage? No offense, bro.”

  “None taken.”

  The reason why Star’s intonation was entirely void of concern as she spoke directly into his mind was because she truly didn’t have cause to fear for his welfare.

  As children, mages were easy targets. Once they learned to control their power, not so much. Their strengths varied from one individual to the next, and unfortunately for the regulars that surrounded him, Hart was just what Kraul had accused him of being: a monster. A freak. He could destroy every single person in the room with little effort.

  “I’ll inform Evi and Kai, we’ll move in within the hour.”

  Hart wanted to sigh. He truly hadn’t wished for a battle. But there was little he could do about it now.

  Three

  Broken Trust

  Dara knew that her mother wasn’t going to die. The mage—a tall stranger who had called to court—was going to save her.

  As a child of ten, she often thought of grown-ups as old, mean, boring, or a combination of the three. There were only a few exceptions: Mother, her uncle Lonar, and now, the mage.

  Dara was fond of stories. She loved to read and listen to tales of battles in the stars, pirates and soldiers fighting with blasters, and spaceship races. She could imagine the mage as a hero in one of those stories.

  His body was covered by a well-worn gray cape, but as he walked, she could catch a glimpse of fine garments underneath. Shinning, gray, well-cut gaberdine embroidered in white at the hems. More interestingly yet, Dara saw the glint of metal at his belt. Some form of weapon? She was dying to see what it was. A sword, perhaps. She knew, from the holographic books she wasn’t supposed to read, that mages rarely used blasters. Their weapons of choice were blade and steel because the
y could stop laser blasts with their mind. Lasers, but not steel. She wasn’t sure how that worked. No doubt, mages had a lot to learn, too.

  In the past, anyway. There were no new mages. Not on her home planet or anywhere in their sector. Anywhere in the galaxy. She'd read all about mages and she knew they were powerful. A long time ago, the head of their order, the Wise, had decided not to train any children. The Wise were still around, although they were very old.

  Mages were dangerous, everyone said so. It only made the meeting all the more exciting to her. She knew that many lived their entire life without ever seeing a mage. The stranger was one of the last of his kind.

  Uncle Lonar had said that he wasn’t an outlaw, because he’d been born a long time ago, but now that she saw the mage, Dara thought he must have been mistaken. He didn’t look very old. Younger than her father, although he had some white hair threading on the sides of his dark mane. In fact, he was quite beautiful, for a grown-up. Maybe staying young was one of his superpowers? Dara was so very excited. The healers weren’t very optimistic, but with all his powers, the mage could save her mother.

  The mage walked from one end of the throne hall to the other and inclined his head once he’d reached the procession sent to greet him, composed of Dara’s father, the king of Zeru, his advisor, and his family.

  King Kraul stood up front and had had a nurse carry in his newborn son, Kaur.

  Dara loved her little brother with all her heart and it had never occurred her to blame him for taking up what little room was available in their father’s heart. Her elder sister, a handsome girl of sixteen, took the place at the king’s side that usually belonged to the queen, and Lany, already known for her wits and charms at twelve, was just one step behind. Dara should have been right behind her, but as she’d arrived late, she stood farther away, behind her uncle, cousins, and her father’s hounds.

  At the king’s right, there was Ogar the Boring, Tummen the Toothless, Elgar the Smelly and Poder the Whiny. Those weren’t their actual titles at the palace, but Dara cared little for politics.