Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 3, 2021 12:28:59 GMT
ORILLIAN TERRITORY, 12:01 PM SGT
'It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind...'
Was that how it went? It sure seemed to fit the mood.
Two Zetyans walked along a corridor, flanked by Orillian guards as they were ushered to a designated meeting room. The faint sounds of thunder and rain could be heard as the procession moved along, mixed in with the hums of the lights around them and the faint sounds of soldiers marching, going to who knows where.
The first Zetyan, Fg'han Y'hola, had expected many things when he had read the words 'come to orillia embassy', all the way back when he was stationed in the Helis Initiative's territory. Perhaps they had set up somewhere in Helis under the nose of the press, or there was an allied nation near the 'Holds that he could've gone to. The last thing he expected, as mirrored by his friend, was that he would 'come to Orillia embassy', in the Orillian homeland. He cursed his lack of appreciation for wider galactic politics beyond the Corridor; maybe he would've had some clue of what bigger things could be going on.
The second, P'tala Wto'al, was keenly aware that something bigger could be going on. What it was, she hadn't much idea, but if she knew anything about diplomacy, it was that a nation reaching out from the other side of the galaxy would no doubt propose no small deal. She was once the audience of some similar nation back when the Next Step Forward plan was going on-fanatically militaristic and ready for war-but nothing had come of it, and all that was gained was knowledge of names and places. Perhaps that was why she was being dragged along to here, a slight difference in experience and nothing more.
Fg'han, found himself spacing out as he walked along, and snatched back his focus from the depths of wherever it came from. He took a moment to reassess his surroundings, maybe see if their room was up ahead. Couldn't hurt.
To many who came to Orillia itself the constant storms and punishing rain felt like they had merely come on a bad day, in a particularly stormy period. Some who stayed longer may even think it was just a particularly bad year of weather, coincidentally coinciding with their presence. In bleak reality however, it was always like this. Constant lightning storms, constant lashing rain and punishing winds, massive storms moving across its surface and sometimes reinforcing each other to create hurricanes of truly massive scale. It hadn't always been like this, lush sunsets, beautiful skies and lovely summers had once been a thing on Orillia, but the sheer devastation caused by the Immortal Empire, and later the Union, had practically eliminated all chance of Orillia ever regaining its ecosystem or calm atmosphere back. So much orbital bombardment, so many ships entering atmosphere, so much ash deposited into the atmosphere had turned Orillia into a dark, ever raging hellhole.
And yet their people had endured. Constructing still in sheer, angry defiance, towering skyscrapers and cities on the surface. Of course they were massively reinforced, pyramidal structures of concrete and steel, and had most of the city underground. But it was a statement, a statement that they would never back down, a statement that reflected their views and politics.
The Zetyans had been invited to one of the large pyramidal structures even as one of the storms raked the city. Through the small windows they could see driving rain, endless flashes and even the eerie twisting of a tornado. They would be safe here, but the dark internals of the Orillians homes did not make them overly inviting. They were a dark and dingey people, with little in the way of outward affection through art and style. It was all about utilitarian need, no more, no less. Whatever was needed.
It was reflected into the carpets, the bare walls, the lack of decoration. And finally in the slab grey doors. Poorly illuminated by the very low lamps the guards opened the doors and directed the two inside.
Illuminated briefly by the lightning outside Madam Yrillix turned to smile at the new guests. A fireplace was behind her, slowly burning away and casting orange onto her long, very tall body. She was lithe, but dangerous and she beckoned the two to come and sit by her large very bare desk.
"Welcome to Orillia. I am Madam Yrillix, I think we have much to discuss"
Taking in their surroundings again, he found the place rather inspiring, in it's own weird and depressingly bleak way. He couldn't quite place it, but something of the way the city seemed to endure the horrid storm outside inspired an odd confidence in the people they were catcalled here by. Some memories of his own nation's history floated by, and he wondered for a slight moment if there could be any correlation he could make. He decided not to ponder that route, though.
P'tala seemed less approving of the maelstrom, at least externally. She liked storms, sure-sometimes before bedtime she'd put on ambience from smogstorms and thunderstorms and zone out-but this was something else. As she walked, curious thoughts flitted through her head, wonders and hypotheses about the sounds and feelings of the outside, unmuffled and raw.
She pushed them out, locked the door. Her focus was best spent elsewhere.
As they walked in, P'tala made sure to give her introductions before Fg'han could. She felt his natural stutter would slow things down, and if she was being honest with herself she'd much rather get this done and over with. Fg'han merely nodded-even after his training and all the diplomatic stuff he'd done so far, a part of him still preferred to sit back and let others talk.
"P'tala Wto'al. A pleasure."
"Fg'han Y'hola."
As they sat down, Fg'han started the dialogue, keeping his stutter surprisingly in check. That short sentences trick he learned the other week seemed to help it a little.
"What do you wish to discuss with us, Mrs. Yrillix?"
Yrillix bowed slightly as they gave their names. Another deep rumble from outside flashing the room a vivid white for a tiny moment.
"Come sit, relax. I have called your people here as an invitation. Your people came to our notice fairly recently but you have been active for sometime. No doubt you have braved the south quite heavily to get to where you are, it takes a strong people to evolve and come to fruition in this galaxy let alone one of the outlier regions. There are more than enough nations willing to take advantage of one such as yours" She paused, a tiny little holographic map appeared on her desk.
"Quite a long way to come too. As such you have my upmost respect for accepting this summons. But I knew you would come, those who are native to this defiant galaxy always do."
"I am going to be very frank with you both. Your nation has taken massive strides recently, and we wish to support you in continuing such. We wish to assist you economically and politically, even assisting you in military means should you need it. In return we would like you to afford us the same favour. There is a storm coming you see, far mightier than the one outside, one that will change the face of this galaxy. Those from beyond this place seek to exploit us, we wish to stop that. We wish for this galaxy to belong to those who truly have the right to it, those who it gave birth to. We would like to see if you are interested in reclaiming your birth right like the rest of us"
The two nodded at her compliments , the fire and lightning casting deep, orange-tinted shadows on their facesas she spoke. The minister's honeyed compliments and silky prose were ill-fitting masks to her latent fanaticism, and it showed.
In Fg'han, though, her words did strike a chord somewhere. His Voriarch's defining philosophy since he'd gotten in office-even if it was ultimately just an excuse to break their isolationist policies in two-was an oddly infectious one, the thought of his 'galactic sandbox' spreading through the 'Holds like wildfire. It was tantalizing, even to those who weren't glory hogs, and Fg'han had practically experienced half of his Voriarch's dream firsthand. Now, he saw an overlap in their philosophies, and it nearly made his eyes cross.
P'tala also inclined towards accepting her deal, though in her case it was from a neutral, more logical standpoint. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to know what the alien meant by 'political' assistance just yet, and she couldn't quite get excited about claiming any 'birthright', but she had heard of their reputation, and anyone who could send for people at the ass-end of the galaxy so casually yet anonymously would be a powerful ally indeed.
Another mutual support deal was fine too. Like hardtack; could hardly go wrong with it.
And, then again, why would fanaticism be any reason to decline her offer anyways? A true believer wasn't quite the worst thing they'd encountered, and it wasn't like there were any nations the 'Holds was in ruts with that might've warranted this Yrillix frothing at the mou-
...well, no, maybe one. She pondered if or when she'd bring them up, and started drafting up a bakery's worth of half-baked ideas in the back of her mind.
She remained silent for the moment, though as Fg'han began to speak; best not to distract the cat when it's eyes were wide.
"Of course, Mrs. Yrillix. It'd be an honor."
The Orillian woman seemed to grin in genuine happiness as she took a seat herself and placed her arms upon the table. The two being extremely long and spindly like those of the female Orillians, it gave her a strange appearance like that of a spider unfurling its limbs upon finding prey. Still her poorly illuminated face was one of comfort and enjoyment.
"Excellent, truly excellent. We have many plans you see, countless allies and friends who wish to support our endeavours, we would be more than happy to give you the opportunity to join in, become one of the networking factions that help clasp the future together. Trade is simple, we can offer Kolleronic materials, Ancerium and all kinds of technological systems you may wish to purchase, as for political ties we can link you to countless native nations just like you and us that can help strengthen economic and political positions. And finally we would be happy to work with your military in regards to tactical analysis and maybe even future joint ventures. I can have the entire treaty down here in a moment."
She then held her hands up.
"But enough of me giving, no doubt your quite taken a back, please I am sure you have many questions you want to ask I do apologise I got ahead of myself"
"Oh, no, not at all." Fg'han said, internally impressed his stutter hadn't come out yet and resolving to thank whoever it was that came up with the whole short sentences only thing. "Honestly, you've answered any quest-t-tions I might've had. Unless P'tala has anything to add-d...?"
"...yes, actually." she spoke, having decided to take a rather risky stab in the dark. "Two, though one requires a bit of explanation."
"First, how will the... Union, I believe, act on our agreement, if they act at all beyond some angry words on paper? I'm told they're rather incensed with Orillia at the moment."
That was the easy one. Perhaps they'd use sanctions, or just throw around condemnations. She suspected the latter; from what info she had, they weren't very active as of late.
Now for the hard one. Her mind told her she was stepping on thin ice, yet her mouth continued unabated.
"And second, before I begin rambling, what is your opinion of the Isoterran Empire?"
Yrillix placed her hands onto the table as P'tala spoke and asked her questions. The Orillian woman's demeanour was open but something there inside of it wasn't quite right, like she was very stressed. At the mention of the Union it disappeared however, she sneered and waved a hand in the air.
"Ah the Union. King of the colonials who have murdered this galaxy. I wont lie to you, they will likely look on such a close tie with us extremely judgementally, maybe even see you as a potential enemy. Despite this I would not expect them to act anymore than you have already stated. The Union lost its teeth with the fall of Capitol and can barely deal with its own problems let alone do anything more than write powerless protests on the galactic news condemning nations seeking their true freedom. If the Union is to make any move against you under our treaty then we will loudly stand up on your behalf" She nodded before sitting back into her chair and pondering.
"We have had little in the way of contact with the Isoterrans. Given their colonial nature I would not be surprised if they were out purely for their nations own gains, but they have also entered conflict with several other colonial nations. Perhaps they can be reasoned with, but that would require more details. Why, do you have any issues with them or intel on their motives?"
As Yrillix spoke, P'tala too seemed at slight, subtle unease; as if expecting an answer most undesirable. As soon as she was done elaborating on their views of the Isoterrans, though, she too eased up in turn.
She had been expecting something worse. Along the lines of 'they shall die like any other foul colonial' and 'they must be wiped off the map. no excuses', or something equally extreme. But, hey, it allowed for her to be more frank about things.
"Ah. Those utopian types always seem like that, don't they? All bark, no bite.
Now, as for the Isoterrans...
Recently, we had made contact of the 'mutually beneficial' sort with them. Curiously enough, they had approached us, rather than us approaching them-for their reasons, I cannot say-and eventually we had worked out a diplo-economic pact-trade, tourism, military assistance, the like. I believe there were a few news articles on it, and if I remember correctly there were talks of a joint antipiracy operation.
Now, the reason I asked is because their potential as an ally, through their current acquaintanceship to us, would be an undoubtedly powerful asset. While I am unable to say as to whether they have any ulterior motives beyond the averages of self-service and leverage-and your suspicions would not be unfounded regarding them-from what I have seen of them and what support they have given us, perhaps they could indeed be swayed-if not as an ally, then as an unwitting attack dog.
Your thoughts?"
As she finished talking, she came to an open position, awaiting the Minister's response. Fg'han merely watched with interest for the moment.
Yrillix seemed to fully sit back into her chair as if debating the entire premise.
“I am glad that you at least have a mutually beneficial relationship with them. With any luck they will afford you some protection in these troubled times. As stated we have had no dealings with them, but if as you say they can be reasoned with then potentially there is room for such… For us to align with a colonial is…” She paused.
“A rather tense affair as you can imagine. The Free State does not wish for all of them to be exterminated like some insane barbarians, we are aware some states wish to work co-operatively with the natives. However there are many of our allies who would look poorly on openly working with Colonials, while it would also at the same time be beneficial to show we are not the evil ones to the other colonial powers.”
“Perhaps… Through you we may talk to them. I am sure if we cannot organise open support and diplomacy we can perhaps come to assist one another behind closed doors”
"Yes, that sounds agreeable enough to me. I'll see what I can organize when we return home." she concluded, evidently satisfied.
Yrillix's hidden depths-for lack of a better word, considering she hadn't revealed anything beyond that she was less fanatic than P'tala realized-was still good enough for the Zetyan diplomat. Fg'han, noting her stepping out of the spotlight, spoke in turn.
"Well, as said, I have no further questions-s. Unless you have anything to add, I believ-ve we're both ready."
“Excellent. In that case I have prepared us a copy of the treaty, with the amendments we just discussed. How AI is so helpful” Yrillix moved a hand across her desk and through a small slit a detailed piece of paper was produced. Placing it down she handed the pen to the two Zetyans, it covered everything they had discussed, no hidden fine print or any funny business was apparent. With a quick sign Yrillix did the same herself, solidifying the document as binding, a holo version was also uploaded to the network.
“Truly a momentous day for our peoples. I deeply thank you for your aid and commitments and look forward to working with the Clanholds in the future. Good day ambassadors, my men will ensure your safe return to the shuttle and your timely departure, I am sure you have much else to attend to”
'It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind...'
Was that how it went? It sure seemed to fit the mood.
Two Zetyans walked along a corridor, flanked by Orillian guards as they were ushered to a designated meeting room. The faint sounds of thunder and rain could be heard as the procession moved along, mixed in with the hums of the lights around them and the faint sounds of soldiers marching, going to who knows where.
The first Zetyan, Fg'han Y'hola, had expected many things when he had read the words 'come to orillia embassy', all the way back when he was stationed in the Helis Initiative's territory. Perhaps they had set up somewhere in Helis under the nose of the press, or there was an allied nation near the 'Holds that he could've gone to. The last thing he expected, as mirrored by his friend, was that he would 'come to Orillia embassy', in the Orillian homeland. He cursed his lack of appreciation for wider galactic politics beyond the Corridor; maybe he would've had some clue of what bigger things could be going on.
The second, P'tala Wto'al, was keenly aware that something bigger could be going on. What it was, she hadn't much idea, but if she knew anything about diplomacy, it was that a nation reaching out from the other side of the galaxy would no doubt propose no small deal. She was once the audience of some similar nation back when the Next Step Forward plan was going on-fanatically militaristic and ready for war-but nothing had come of it, and all that was gained was knowledge of names and places. Perhaps that was why she was being dragged along to here, a slight difference in experience and nothing more.
Fg'han, found himself spacing out as he walked along, and snatched back his focus from the depths of wherever it came from. He took a moment to reassess his surroundings, maybe see if their room was up ahead. Couldn't hurt.
To many who came to Orillia itself the constant storms and punishing rain felt like they had merely come on a bad day, in a particularly stormy period. Some who stayed longer may even think it was just a particularly bad year of weather, coincidentally coinciding with their presence. In bleak reality however, it was always like this. Constant lightning storms, constant lashing rain and punishing winds, massive storms moving across its surface and sometimes reinforcing each other to create hurricanes of truly massive scale. It hadn't always been like this, lush sunsets, beautiful skies and lovely summers had once been a thing on Orillia, but the sheer devastation caused by the Immortal Empire, and later the Union, had practically eliminated all chance of Orillia ever regaining its ecosystem or calm atmosphere back. So much orbital bombardment, so many ships entering atmosphere, so much ash deposited into the atmosphere had turned Orillia into a dark, ever raging hellhole.
And yet their people had endured. Constructing still in sheer, angry defiance, towering skyscrapers and cities on the surface. Of course they were massively reinforced, pyramidal structures of concrete and steel, and had most of the city underground. But it was a statement, a statement that they would never back down, a statement that reflected their views and politics.
The Zetyans had been invited to one of the large pyramidal structures even as one of the storms raked the city. Through the small windows they could see driving rain, endless flashes and even the eerie twisting of a tornado. They would be safe here, but the dark internals of the Orillians homes did not make them overly inviting. They were a dark and dingey people, with little in the way of outward affection through art and style. It was all about utilitarian need, no more, no less. Whatever was needed.
It was reflected into the carpets, the bare walls, the lack of decoration. And finally in the slab grey doors. Poorly illuminated by the very low lamps the guards opened the doors and directed the two inside.
Illuminated briefly by the lightning outside Madam Yrillix turned to smile at the new guests. A fireplace was behind her, slowly burning away and casting orange onto her long, very tall body. She was lithe, but dangerous and she beckoned the two to come and sit by her large very bare desk.
"Welcome to Orillia. I am Madam Yrillix, I think we have much to discuss"
Taking in their surroundings again, he found the place rather inspiring, in it's own weird and depressingly bleak way. He couldn't quite place it, but something of the way the city seemed to endure the horrid storm outside inspired an odd confidence in the people they were catcalled here by. Some memories of his own nation's history floated by, and he wondered for a slight moment if there could be any correlation he could make. He decided not to ponder that route, though.
P'tala seemed less approving of the maelstrom, at least externally. She liked storms, sure-sometimes before bedtime she'd put on ambience from smogstorms and thunderstorms and zone out-but this was something else. As she walked, curious thoughts flitted through her head, wonders and hypotheses about the sounds and feelings of the outside, unmuffled and raw.
She pushed them out, locked the door. Her focus was best spent elsewhere.
As they walked in, P'tala made sure to give her introductions before Fg'han could. She felt his natural stutter would slow things down, and if she was being honest with herself she'd much rather get this done and over with. Fg'han merely nodded-even after his training and all the diplomatic stuff he'd done so far, a part of him still preferred to sit back and let others talk.
"P'tala Wto'al. A pleasure."
"Fg'han Y'hola."
As they sat down, Fg'han started the dialogue, keeping his stutter surprisingly in check. That short sentences trick he learned the other week seemed to help it a little.
"What do you wish to discuss with us, Mrs. Yrillix?"
Yrillix bowed slightly as they gave their names. Another deep rumble from outside flashing the room a vivid white for a tiny moment.
"Come sit, relax. I have called your people here as an invitation. Your people came to our notice fairly recently but you have been active for sometime. No doubt you have braved the south quite heavily to get to where you are, it takes a strong people to evolve and come to fruition in this galaxy let alone one of the outlier regions. There are more than enough nations willing to take advantage of one such as yours" She paused, a tiny little holographic map appeared on her desk.
"Quite a long way to come too. As such you have my upmost respect for accepting this summons. But I knew you would come, those who are native to this defiant galaxy always do."
"I am going to be very frank with you both. Your nation has taken massive strides recently, and we wish to support you in continuing such. We wish to assist you economically and politically, even assisting you in military means should you need it. In return we would like you to afford us the same favour. There is a storm coming you see, far mightier than the one outside, one that will change the face of this galaxy. Those from beyond this place seek to exploit us, we wish to stop that. We wish for this galaxy to belong to those who truly have the right to it, those who it gave birth to. We would like to see if you are interested in reclaiming your birth right like the rest of us"
The two nodded at her compliments , the fire and lightning casting deep, orange-tinted shadows on their facesas she spoke. The minister's honeyed compliments and silky prose were ill-fitting masks to her latent fanaticism, and it showed.
In Fg'han, though, her words did strike a chord somewhere. His Voriarch's defining philosophy since he'd gotten in office-even if it was ultimately just an excuse to break their isolationist policies in two-was an oddly infectious one, the thought of his 'galactic sandbox' spreading through the 'Holds like wildfire. It was tantalizing, even to those who weren't glory hogs, and Fg'han had practically experienced half of his Voriarch's dream firsthand. Now, he saw an overlap in their philosophies, and it nearly made his eyes cross.
P'tala also inclined towards accepting her deal, though in her case it was from a neutral, more logical standpoint. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to know what the alien meant by 'political' assistance just yet, and she couldn't quite get excited about claiming any 'birthright', but she had heard of their reputation, and anyone who could send for people at the ass-end of the galaxy so casually yet anonymously would be a powerful ally indeed.
Another mutual support deal was fine too. Like hardtack; could hardly go wrong with it.
And, then again, why would fanaticism be any reason to decline her offer anyways? A true believer wasn't quite the worst thing they'd encountered, and it wasn't like there were any nations the 'Holds was in ruts with that might've warranted this Yrillix frothing at the mou-
...well, no, maybe one. She pondered if or when she'd bring them up, and started drafting up a bakery's worth of half-baked ideas in the back of her mind.
She remained silent for the moment, though as Fg'han began to speak; best not to distract the cat when it's eyes were wide.
"Of course, Mrs. Yrillix. It'd be an honor."
The Orillian woman seemed to grin in genuine happiness as she took a seat herself and placed her arms upon the table. The two being extremely long and spindly like those of the female Orillians, it gave her a strange appearance like that of a spider unfurling its limbs upon finding prey. Still her poorly illuminated face was one of comfort and enjoyment.
"Excellent, truly excellent. We have many plans you see, countless allies and friends who wish to support our endeavours, we would be more than happy to give you the opportunity to join in, become one of the networking factions that help clasp the future together. Trade is simple, we can offer Kolleronic materials, Ancerium and all kinds of technological systems you may wish to purchase, as for political ties we can link you to countless native nations just like you and us that can help strengthen economic and political positions. And finally we would be happy to work with your military in regards to tactical analysis and maybe even future joint ventures. I can have the entire treaty down here in a moment."
She then held her hands up.
"But enough of me giving, no doubt your quite taken a back, please I am sure you have many questions you want to ask I do apologise I got ahead of myself"
"Oh, no, not at all." Fg'han said, internally impressed his stutter hadn't come out yet and resolving to thank whoever it was that came up with the whole short sentences only thing. "Honestly, you've answered any quest-t-tions I might've had. Unless P'tala has anything to add-d...?"
"...yes, actually." she spoke, having decided to take a rather risky stab in the dark. "Two, though one requires a bit of explanation."
"First, how will the... Union, I believe, act on our agreement, if they act at all beyond some angry words on paper? I'm told they're rather incensed with Orillia at the moment."
That was the easy one. Perhaps they'd use sanctions, or just throw around condemnations. She suspected the latter; from what info she had, they weren't very active as of late.
Now for the hard one. Her mind told her she was stepping on thin ice, yet her mouth continued unabated.
"And second, before I begin rambling, what is your opinion of the Isoterran Empire?"
Yrillix placed her hands onto the table as P'tala spoke and asked her questions. The Orillian woman's demeanour was open but something there inside of it wasn't quite right, like she was very stressed. At the mention of the Union it disappeared however, she sneered and waved a hand in the air.
"Ah the Union. King of the colonials who have murdered this galaxy. I wont lie to you, they will likely look on such a close tie with us extremely judgementally, maybe even see you as a potential enemy. Despite this I would not expect them to act anymore than you have already stated. The Union lost its teeth with the fall of Capitol and can barely deal with its own problems let alone do anything more than write powerless protests on the galactic news condemning nations seeking their true freedom. If the Union is to make any move against you under our treaty then we will loudly stand up on your behalf" She nodded before sitting back into her chair and pondering.
"We have had little in the way of contact with the Isoterrans. Given their colonial nature I would not be surprised if they were out purely for their nations own gains, but they have also entered conflict with several other colonial nations. Perhaps they can be reasoned with, but that would require more details. Why, do you have any issues with them or intel on their motives?"
As Yrillix spoke, P'tala too seemed at slight, subtle unease; as if expecting an answer most undesirable. As soon as she was done elaborating on their views of the Isoterrans, though, she too eased up in turn.
She had been expecting something worse. Along the lines of 'they shall die like any other foul colonial' and 'they must be wiped off the map. no excuses', or something equally extreme. But, hey, it allowed for her to be more frank about things.
"Ah. Those utopian types always seem like that, don't they? All bark, no bite.
Now, as for the Isoterrans...
Recently, we had made contact of the 'mutually beneficial' sort with them. Curiously enough, they had approached us, rather than us approaching them-for their reasons, I cannot say-and eventually we had worked out a diplo-economic pact-trade, tourism, military assistance, the like. I believe there were a few news articles on it, and if I remember correctly there were talks of a joint antipiracy operation.
Now, the reason I asked is because their potential as an ally, through their current acquaintanceship to us, would be an undoubtedly powerful asset. While I am unable to say as to whether they have any ulterior motives beyond the averages of self-service and leverage-and your suspicions would not be unfounded regarding them-from what I have seen of them and what support they have given us, perhaps they could indeed be swayed-if not as an ally, then as an unwitting attack dog.
Your thoughts?"
As she finished talking, she came to an open position, awaiting the Minister's response. Fg'han merely watched with interest for the moment.
Yrillix seemed to fully sit back into her chair as if debating the entire premise.
“I am glad that you at least have a mutually beneficial relationship with them. With any luck they will afford you some protection in these troubled times. As stated we have had no dealings with them, but if as you say they can be reasoned with then potentially there is room for such… For us to align with a colonial is…” She paused.
“A rather tense affair as you can imagine. The Free State does not wish for all of them to be exterminated like some insane barbarians, we are aware some states wish to work co-operatively with the natives. However there are many of our allies who would look poorly on openly working with Colonials, while it would also at the same time be beneficial to show we are not the evil ones to the other colonial powers.”
“Perhaps… Through you we may talk to them. I am sure if we cannot organise open support and diplomacy we can perhaps come to assist one another behind closed doors”
"Yes, that sounds agreeable enough to me. I'll see what I can organize when we return home." she concluded, evidently satisfied.
Yrillix's hidden depths-for lack of a better word, considering she hadn't revealed anything beyond that she was less fanatic than P'tala realized-was still good enough for the Zetyan diplomat. Fg'han, noting her stepping out of the spotlight, spoke in turn.
"Well, as said, I have no further questions-s. Unless you have anything to add, I believ-ve we're both ready."
“Excellent. In that case I have prepared us a copy of the treaty, with the amendments we just discussed. How AI is so helpful” Yrillix moved a hand across her desk and through a small slit a detailed piece of paper was produced. Placing it down she handed the pen to the two Zetyans, it covered everything they had discussed, no hidden fine print or any funny business was apparent. With a quick sign Yrillix did the same herself, solidifying the document as binding, a holo version was also uploaded to the network.
“Truly a momentous day for our peoples. I deeply thank you for your aid and commitments and look forward to working with the Clanholds in the future. Good day ambassadors, my men will ensure your safe return to the shuttle and your timely departure, I am sure you have much else to attend to”