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Service Agreement
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
She looked thinner than she did in the images, Chang discovered as she entered the conference room and Balakrishnan stood up. The Dhole-Akita looked nervous, almost taut, like a too-tight line that might part at any time.
Chang forced a smile and walked up to her. “Balakrishnan-jih.” She offered her paw.
The canine femme looked momentarily flustered before taking the paw and shaking it. “Chang-jih. You’ll forgive me.”
“Why?”
“The Kashlani don’t shake paws,” Terra’s Ambassador replied, “so I’m a little out of practice. Shall we begin?”
“Yes, we should.” The two envoys took seats. Chang’s staff clustered behind her, while Balakrishnan’s aides, carefully selected by Commander Garza and approved by her, stood back to watch the proceedings as the otter femme placed her padd on the table and Terra’s three-point bargaining position appeared in midair. “I’m not going to mince words, Ambassador,” she said. “The idea of Terra demanding reparations is ludicrous, and we won’t even consider it.”
“I agree.”
The flat declaration caused the Colonial delegation to stop muttering among themselves, while Chang’s small ears flicked forward alertly. “You . . . agree?”
The canine nodded. “The Confed attacked the Colonies,” she said bluntly. “We have no right to demand that the Colonies pay compensation, seeing as the Confed hasn’t won. But,” and she smiled, “we can certainly talk trade, which would benefit both sides.”
One of Chang’s aides touched her shoulder and whispered urgently in her ear. She nodded and said, “You’re – you’re seriously stretching the definition of ‘compensation,’ Balakrishnan-jih.”
Terra’s envoy smiled. “I’m glad you noticed. The points are very short, leaving them open to any amount of interpretation. I blame Minister Mendez.” She cocked an eye at Chang. “You’re rather new at this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Good. That might make things go faster.”
“You’re not what I expected, Ambassador.”
Balakrishnan sat back, a pensive look crossing her muzzle. “There is only one system standing between the Shlaniazr and Sol itself, while the rest of the Core has been cut off from its sources of raw materials from the Colonies and reduced to less than fifty percent of its former volume. The Kashlani have amply demonstrated that they are capable of conquering our entire species.” She paused and gestured one of her aides forward; a few moments later she brought the canine a glass of water. Balakrishnan sipped at it and said, “We no longer have time for the luxury of dancing around the subject.”
Chang took a breath. “The Colonies agree. So, trade?”
“Yes, we can work out the particulars, and naturally the experts and the interests will want to see what they can get out of it. So, are we agreed on Point Two?”
Chang glanced back at one of her aides, and the alligator nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Now, Point Three.” The Dhole-Akita looked across the table at the otteress. “I’m sure that the Colonies have been fucked over enough times by the Confed. That’s why Mo and the others have withdrawn from the Pact of Charon, am I right?” Before Chang could reply Balakrishnan nodded. “Of course you have. I divorced my wife over less.”
“We may come back in the future,” Chang said, “and I’m sorry about your divorce.”
“She was a – marrying her was a mistake, on my part. As to the Colonies returning? Well, it’s possible, but I’m not going to hold my breath until that day comes around.” One or two of Chang’s aides actually chuckled. “I believe that dispenses with Points Two and Three. That leaves the prisoner exchange.” She cocked an eyebrow at Chang. “How many prisoners do you have?”
“Oh! Um,” and the otter started poking at her padd. “Excuse me. This is going faster than I thought it would.” She glanced up as a star map appeared, showing ten facilities scattered throughout Colonial space. “We have, at last count, nearly twenty thousand prisoners.”
Balakrishnan smiled, and an opposing map appeared. “The latest figures that I have from the Defense Ministry indicate just under twenty-five thousand. We can arrange transportation - medical care, too, seeing as there were injured – and we can agree on a timetable.” She sipped at her glass of water. “So, let’s get to it, shall we?”
Chang felt briefly dizzy, but the former Special Forces officer took a breath to center herself and said, “Let’s.”
***
AAA PRIORITY AAA
MESSAGE BEGINS
EMB DWNTIMSTAT TO FORMIN TERRA SOL
HELD TALKS WITH ACCREDITED PCG ENVOY THIS DATE. TOPICS COVERED AND CONDITIONALLY AGREED UPON PENDING AGREEMENT BY TERRIMPGOV AND PCG:
1. PRISONER TRANSFER / REPATRIATION.
A. REFER TO ANNEX 1 FOR FACILITIES, NUMBERS, AND PROPOSED REPATRIATION ARRANGEMENTS.
2. COMPENSATION FOR DAMAGE TO CONFED ASSETS/PROPERTY.
A. COMPENSATION DENIED; REFER TO ANNEX 2 FOR PROPOSED TRADE AGREEMENT.
3. WHETHER PCG WILL REJOIN TERRIMPGOV.
A. PCG MAY REJOIN PACT OF CHARON SUBJECT RENEGOTIATION AT SOME FUTURE DATE. UNTIL THEN, DIPLOMATIC TIES WILL BE ESTABLISHED BETWEEN THE TERRIMPGOV AND PCG.
BALAKRISHNAN
PERSONAL TO MENDEZ THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT BEING SPECIFIC YOU UTTER MORON I WILL BE SPEAKING WITH THE KSE ENVOY INFORM HM AND SUCCESSOR THAT POINT SIX OF COMMUNIQUE 45/300 IS LIKELY NOT RPT NOT NEGOTIABLE.
MESSAGE ENDS.
***
“Impossible.”
Thorpe seemed to like that word. He used it quite often.
Baxter sighed and asked, “What is impossible now, Thorpe-jih?”
“You’re proposing a simple swap of prisoners,” the portly feline said, “with no regard whatever for what your military might have done to them.” Ignoring her startled expression he said, “Why, the Colonies could do anything to those poor heroes – cyber implants, biological weapons, brainwashing. No, no, Baxter-jih. I must insist that the Imperial Government have the opportunity to scan every returned prisoner, as well as screen them for any disloyalty.”
“’Disloyalty?’”
“We certainly don’t want anyone infecting the military or the civilian population with traitorous ideas,” Thorpe huffed. “It would be quite impossible.”
“Well – “
“Now, Colonial prisoners,” and his smile grew unpleasant. “You can be allowed to come and get them at any time. They’re a burden on our economy, and quite probably pose health risks. That is, if His Majesty doesn’t order them put out an airlock for you to pick up.”
The otter femme felt the tip of her tail twitch. He was obviously goading her, and she had to admit that it stood a good chance of working.
“I’m sure,” she managed to say before she started grinding her teeth, “that we can work out a proper screening protocol that will satisfy your concerns, along with a timetable – “
“Impossible.”
And there it was again. Baxter silently asked Deus for strength. “How so?” she asked.
“We will want this done as quickly as possible, to prevent the Colonial Navy – or its masters – from learning anything about our facilities,” Thorpe replied, with a pointed glance at Rafan. The kam, for his part, merely moved his ears as he listened.
“Again, I’m certain that we can arrive at some sort of compromise that both sides can agree on.” Baxter took a sip of water, wishing it were whisky, and said, “Point Two – “
“Is not open to negotiation,” the Terran feline said. “Lost ships, bases, economic damage from Terran companies losing industries within the Colonial zone – the Colonies must pay for these losses.”
“But the Confed lost,” Baxter pointed out.
“Have we?” came the reply. “All we have right now is a cease fire, thanks to the military leadership of His Majesty – “
“The Kashlani – “
“Don’t interrupt me,” Thorpe said, “and there’s no use in hiding behind them,” with another glance at the Imperial envoy. “You’re part of Terra, and you will return to us.”
I’ve had about enough, Baxter thought. “That’s a matter for my government, and yours – “
Thorpe flipped a paw in a dismissive gesture. “It’s impossible to continue these talks, Baxter-jih, if you refuse to compromise. I’ll come back when you’re more open to possibilities,” and he stood up and headed for the door.
Baxter stared dumbfounded as the Confed envoy and his staff walked out of the room. She looked back at her staff, who looked just as surprised, and then at Rafan.
The kam made a gesture with his tail; a shrug. “I had thought that he would walk out before now.” He glanced back at an older vir, and the two exchanged a brief conversation in Kashlanin before he said to Baxter, “When he returns, we shall start again.”
“Are you sure he’ll return?”
“I am willing to wager on it,” and the otteress nodded in understanding.
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
She looked thinner than she did in the images, Chang discovered as she entered the conference room and Balakrishnan stood up. The Dhole-Akita looked nervous, almost taut, like a too-tight line that might part at any time.
Chang forced a smile and walked up to her. “Balakrishnan-jih.” She offered her paw.
The canine femme looked momentarily flustered before taking the paw and shaking it. “Chang-jih. You’ll forgive me.”
“Why?”
“The Kashlani don’t shake paws,” Terra’s Ambassador replied, “so I’m a little out of practice. Shall we begin?”
“Yes, we should.” The two envoys took seats. Chang’s staff clustered behind her, while Balakrishnan’s aides, carefully selected by Commander Garza and approved by her, stood back to watch the proceedings as the otter femme placed her padd on the table and Terra’s three-point bargaining position appeared in midair. “I’m not going to mince words, Ambassador,” she said. “The idea of Terra demanding reparations is ludicrous, and we won’t even consider it.”
“I agree.”
The flat declaration caused the Colonial delegation to stop muttering among themselves, while Chang’s small ears flicked forward alertly. “You . . . agree?”
The canine nodded. “The Confed attacked the Colonies,” she said bluntly. “We have no right to demand that the Colonies pay compensation, seeing as the Confed hasn’t won. But,” and she smiled, “we can certainly talk trade, which would benefit both sides.”
One of Chang’s aides touched her shoulder and whispered urgently in her ear. She nodded and said, “You’re – you’re seriously stretching the definition of ‘compensation,’ Balakrishnan-jih.”
Terra’s envoy smiled. “I’m glad you noticed. The points are very short, leaving them open to any amount of interpretation. I blame Minister Mendez.” She cocked an eye at Chang. “You’re rather new at this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Good. That might make things go faster.”
“You’re not what I expected, Ambassador.”
Balakrishnan sat back, a pensive look crossing her muzzle. “There is only one system standing between the Shlaniazr and Sol itself, while the rest of the Core has been cut off from its sources of raw materials from the Colonies and reduced to less than fifty percent of its former volume. The Kashlani have amply demonstrated that they are capable of conquering our entire species.” She paused and gestured one of her aides forward; a few moments later she brought the canine a glass of water. Balakrishnan sipped at it and said, “We no longer have time for the luxury of dancing around the subject.”
Chang took a breath. “The Colonies agree. So, trade?”
“Yes, we can work out the particulars, and naturally the experts and the interests will want to see what they can get out of it. So, are we agreed on Point Two?”
Chang glanced back at one of her aides, and the alligator nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Now, Point Three.” The Dhole-Akita looked across the table at the otteress. “I’m sure that the Colonies have been fucked over enough times by the Confed. That’s why Mo and the others have withdrawn from the Pact of Charon, am I right?” Before Chang could reply Balakrishnan nodded. “Of course you have. I divorced my wife over less.”
“We may come back in the future,” Chang said, “and I’m sorry about your divorce.”
“She was a – marrying her was a mistake, on my part. As to the Colonies returning? Well, it’s possible, but I’m not going to hold my breath until that day comes around.” One or two of Chang’s aides actually chuckled. “I believe that dispenses with Points Two and Three. That leaves the prisoner exchange.” She cocked an eyebrow at Chang. “How many prisoners do you have?”
“Oh! Um,” and the otter started poking at her padd. “Excuse me. This is going faster than I thought it would.” She glanced up as a star map appeared, showing ten facilities scattered throughout Colonial space. “We have, at last count, nearly twenty thousand prisoners.”
Balakrishnan smiled, and an opposing map appeared. “The latest figures that I have from the Defense Ministry indicate just under twenty-five thousand. We can arrange transportation - medical care, too, seeing as there were injured – and we can agree on a timetable.” She sipped at her glass of water. “So, let’s get to it, shall we?”
Chang felt briefly dizzy, but the former Special Forces officer took a breath to center herself and said, “Let’s.”
***
AAA PRIORITY AAA
MESSAGE BEGINS
EMB DWNTIMSTAT TO FORMIN TERRA SOL
HELD TALKS WITH ACCREDITED PCG ENVOY THIS DATE. TOPICS COVERED AND CONDITIONALLY AGREED UPON PENDING AGREEMENT BY TERRIMPGOV AND PCG:
1. PRISONER TRANSFER / REPATRIATION.
A. REFER TO ANNEX 1 FOR FACILITIES, NUMBERS, AND PROPOSED REPATRIATION ARRANGEMENTS.
2. COMPENSATION FOR DAMAGE TO CONFED ASSETS/PROPERTY.
A. COMPENSATION DENIED; REFER TO ANNEX 2 FOR PROPOSED TRADE AGREEMENT.
3. WHETHER PCG WILL REJOIN TERRIMPGOV.
A. PCG MAY REJOIN PACT OF CHARON SUBJECT RENEGOTIATION AT SOME FUTURE DATE. UNTIL THEN, DIPLOMATIC TIES WILL BE ESTABLISHED BETWEEN THE TERRIMPGOV AND PCG.
BALAKRISHNAN
PERSONAL TO MENDEZ THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT BEING SPECIFIC YOU UTTER MORON I WILL BE SPEAKING WITH THE KSE ENVOY INFORM HM AND SUCCESSOR THAT POINT SIX OF COMMUNIQUE 45/300 IS LIKELY NOT RPT NOT NEGOTIABLE.
MESSAGE ENDS.
***
“Impossible.”
Thorpe seemed to like that word. He used it quite often.
Baxter sighed and asked, “What is impossible now, Thorpe-jih?”
“You’re proposing a simple swap of prisoners,” the portly feline said, “with no regard whatever for what your military might have done to them.” Ignoring her startled expression he said, “Why, the Colonies could do anything to those poor heroes – cyber implants, biological weapons, brainwashing. No, no, Baxter-jih. I must insist that the Imperial Government have the opportunity to scan every returned prisoner, as well as screen them for any disloyalty.”
“’Disloyalty?’”
“We certainly don’t want anyone infecting the military or the civilian population with traitorous ideas,” Thorpe huffed. “It would be quite impossible.”
“Well – “
“Now, Colonial prisoners,” and his smile grew unpleasant. “You can be allowed to come and get them at any time. They’re a burden on our economy, and quite probably pose health risks. That is, if His Majesty doesn’t order them put out an airlock for you to pick up.”
The otter femme felt the tip of her tail twitch. He was obviously goading her, and she had to admit that it stood a good chance of working.
“I’m sure,” she managed to say before she started grinding her teeth, “that we can work out a proper screening protocol that will satisfy your concerns, along with a timetable – “
“Impossible.”
And there it was again. Baxter silently asked Deus for strength. “How so?” she asked.
“We will want this done as quickly as possible, to prevent the Colonial Navy – or its masters – from learning anything about our facilities,” Thorpe replied, with a pointed glance at Rafan. The kam, for his part, merely moved his ears as he listened.
“Again, I’m certain that we can arrive at some sort of compromise that both sides can agree on.” Baxter took a sip of water, wishing it were whisky, and said, “Point Two – “
“Is not open to negotiation,” the Terran feline said. “Lost ships, bases, economic damage from Terran companies losing industries within the Colonial zone – the Colonies must pay for these losses.”
“But the Confed lost,” Baxter pointed out.
“Have we?” came the reply. “All we have right now is a cease fire, thanks to the military leadership of His Majesty – “
“The Kashlani – “
“Don’t interrupt me,” Thorpe said, “and there’s no use in hiding behind them,” with another glance at the Imperial envoy. “You’re part of Terra, and you will return to us.”
I’ve had about enough, Baxter thought. “That’s a matter for my government, and yours – “
Thorpe flipped a paw in a dismissive gesture. “It’s impossible to continue these talks, Baxter-jih, if you refuse to compromise. I’ll come back when you’re more open to possibilities,” and he stood up and headed for the door.
Baxter stared dumbfounded as the Confed envoy and his staff walked out of the room. She looked back at her staff, who looked just as surprised, and then at Rafan.
The kam made a gesture with his tail; a shrug. “I had thought that he would walk out before now.” He glanced back at an older vir, and the two exchanged a brief conversation in Kashlanin before he said to Baxter, “When he returns, we shall start again.”
“Are you sure he’ll return?”
“I am willing to wager on it,” and the otteress nodded in understanding.
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Dog (Other)
Size 120 x 77px
File Size 58.6 kB
Listed in Folders
The difference, in my view, is that Thorpe's gotten his marching orders; Balakrishnan hasn't had any instructions and has no staff to keep her toeing the party line. Also, the old saw "travel broadens the mind" is true; she spent more than a decade among the Kashlani, so she does have some insight, and knows that after she gets things hammered out with the Colonies, the Empire's next.
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