The Queen Matriarch’s eyes widened the tiniest bit for a heartbeat, then her face became a royal mask, inscrutable and unreadable. It happened so quickly that Nalyra doubted anyone other than her had noticed.
“What is the meaning of this?”
The Queen’s voice was low, laden with menace and power. Purple eyes narrowed at the sight of the Ydani, standing behind the Crown Daughter. She was an imposing figure, even with just her head and shoulders visible. Her face was flawlessly made up, dustings of gold powder highlighting her green cheeks and forehead. Black hair, as dark as the starless reaches of the empyrean, was done into intricate knots around her large ears, not a single strand out of place in her Crown Veil. A simple tiara, all the more striking due to its plain appearance, highlighted the top of her head. As if to show that “Queen Matriarch” was a title that needed to measure up to her rather than the opposite.
Her captor took a moment to read off the small screen on his forearm. Apparently it could also translate Zakkili into his native tongue. He tapped a button on the device, and spoke a long string of his language. The only word she could recognize was “Ydani.” A moment later, his device projected a glowing hologram, large floating lines of written Zakkili.
I am [Tor’laen], [Outrunner Captain] of a Ydani fleet. Your [Star Citadel] trespassed into Ydani space, and we have boarded and captured it. Your [Crown Daughter] is safe, but in my custody.
The Queen was still, her jewelry glittering in the light of whatever room she was in. Slowly, her eyes slid between Nalyra and her captor.
“I see.” She fixed her gaze on the Ydani. “And why have you forced her to contact me? Do you wish to gloat?” There was a dangerous light in the Queen’s eyes, and Nalyra had to stop herself from trembling.
The alien took a moment to read the Queen Matriarch’s response, then shook his head. Again he spoke, and again a floating line of holographic text appeared.
No. I am willing to return this [ship] and its people unharmed to you, as a gesture of good [faith]. All we ask is to enter into [negotiations], on how our two people might coexist.
The Queen’s jaw tightened slightly, and her eyebrows moved almost imperceptibly. She was surprised, or even bewildered, Nalyra realized, and perhaps unsettled, though no one other than her own daughters would ever recognize it as such. The Queen’s gaze shifted to Nalyra.
“Crown Daughter, is what they say true? Are you unharmed?”
“I am, Queen Matriarch. As are my people.” Nalyra forced the words out of her mouth, her cheeks burning with shame. “The Ydani possess technology that allowed them to infiltrate the Saint’s Aegis, and overpower my crew.” She finally looked her mother in the eyes. “To the best of my knowledge, they have not killed a single Zakkili since coming aboard.”
That got as large a reaction as Nalyra had ever seen from the Queen Matriarch in public. Her mouth tightened, and her shapely eyebrows contracted sharply.
“Is that so?” Her voice was softer, somehow even more dangerous.
The Ydani, who had been following the conversation, spoke once more. Another sentence of floating Zakkili.
We truly do not wish for [conflict]. We only wish for a chance to [negotiate].
The still-armored Ydani shifted uneasily at this, but their leader made a sharp gesture, and they snapped back to duty, keeping their weapons trained on the captive crew.
The Queen’s face had returned to the royal mask once more, but Nalyra recognized the glint of cunning in her luminous eyes.
“I will only speak of matters of such grave import in person, not over these mundane devices.” She almost purred, her eyes narrowing, her mouth twitching with the hint of a sly grin. “You have taken a dangerous liberty, Outrunner Captain. And so if you wish to speak as the representative of your people, then you will do so where I may look you in the eye.”
The Ydani stared down at his translator for nearly a full mark, completely rigid. His jaw was set, and Nalyra could well recognize the face of someone who was making a difficult decision for the sake of their people.
Slowly, as if emphasizing each syllable, he spoke once more, his eyes fixed on the Queen.
I understand. I will release your [Star Citadel], and I will travel in the [Crown Daughter]’s [custody] to your world. Then we will [negotiate].
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
A spark of cruel satisfaction had settled into the Queen’s eyes. Nalyra couldn’t help but shudder slightly.
The declaration clearly unsettled the other Ydani. They gestured at him, and he put a finger to his earpiece, obviously picking up their words over the radio. He made another sharp gesture, something between a salute and a cutting motion, and said another line of their language. Either he didn’t remember his translator was on, or didn’t care.
I am the only one with the proper [rank] to [negotiate] on these matters. There is no other option. I will permit no [insubordination]!
That last word in Ydani seemed to have a great effect. The armored soldiers faltered, then returned to their duty, their movements stiff, machine-like.
Their leader turned back to look at the viewport, and barked another short string of his language.
Are these [terms] acceptable?
A small smile played about the Queen’s lips as she looked him over. As if she were deciding which piece of a banquet to sample first.
“I accept. I look forward to welcoming you in person, that you might come to understand the full truth of the Zakkili Divine Monarchy.”
She paused for one moment, her gaze meeting Nalyra’s. There was something in her mother’s eyes. Worry? Disappointment? Relief? The Crown Daughter couldn’t read it fast enough before the communication was cut, and the viewport reverted to the starry reaches of the Empyrean.
The Ydani nodded once, as if determined to pretend everything had gone according to plan. Then, he walked over to the armored troopers guarding her people. This time he did disable his translator, so all Nalyra could do was watch, trying to read his body language.
His movements were far more rigid now, as if a new weight was resting on his shoulders. That wasn’t too surprising, she supposed. If he was true to what he said, he was about to willingly give himself to his enemies, without a fight.
Well, she would believe that when she saw it. There was no conceivable way these aliens were about to give up control of a Star Citadel.
The Ydani leader made one last gesture, and the armored soldiers moved to the broken door of the bridge. He crossed to his own suit, tapping at something Nalyra couldn’t see. The back plating slid closed, and it started moving on its own, falling in behind one of the other armored aliens with mechanical, jerking steps.
Nalyra’s eyes widened as the armed soldiers left the bridge.
A flash of the Ydani’s translator caught her eye.
I will [free] your crew as soon as my fleet safely [dives] away.
She just stared at him, almost unable to comprehend the message, but he already had a finger on his ear piece, shooting off rapid sentences in his language.
Nalyra turned her gaze to the security feeds and merely watched as the armored Ydani soldiers started to withdraw, just leaving her Armswomen on the ground where they lay.
Over the next few marks, all of the armored Ydani had returned to their shuttles, their movements disciplined and measured. No one on the bridge spoke. No one quite seemed willing to believe it was happening. The invaders had carved their way right to the heart of the Aegis, taken its bridge, captured its Royal Hand, even forced an audience with the Queen Matriarch…and now they were simply leaving. Well, all but one of them, at least.
The shuttles exited the hangars one by one, burning back toward the Ydani fleet in orderly silence.
A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she turned to watch the sole remaining Ydani on the ship slowly pull his ear piece out. Without emotion, he crushed it between his fingers, and let it fall to the floor, bouncing off the deck.
Nalyra could feel the gazes of her crew, the mental urges to attack, to Take, to do something.
The Crown Daughter merely watched as the shuttles returned to the Ydani ships.
It wasn’t mercy. It wasn’t pity. It certainly wasn’t compassion. Every instinct in her screamed to seize him, break him, make him pay for every humiliation he had visited upon her ship. But she had been charged by the Queen Matriarch to deliver this alien, this Ydani captain, to the High Fortress. To an audience with the Queen herself. Her honor, her position, and the obligations of her blood all demanded it.
It would be done.
Blue lights pulsed out in the empyrean as the Ydani ships dived out of realspace, slipping beyond the grasp of her Citadel.
The Ydani nodded once more, as if satisfied, and spoke three short words in his tongue. With a chorus of soft beeps, the magnetic restraints on the bridge crew’s wrists deactivated and fell away, clattering to the floor. Before any of her people could react, the Ydani turned to Nalyra and knelt.
From inside his shirt, he drew a sheathed dagger. He moved slowly, carefully keeping his hand away from the hilt.
Around the bridge, several Zakkili stiffened. Mikka’s hand twitched toward the sidearm she no longer held. Nalyra lifted one hand, stopping them.
Compared to his utilitarian uniform and boots, this weapon was intricate, gorgeous. The hilt and sheath were made of some kind of ivory-like material and trimmed with gold. There were spiraling designs that swirled over the surface of the sheath, culminating in a depiction of a bright sun, with golden rays streaming from it.
The Ydani laid the weapon flat upon his hands, offering it to her, and bowed his head. He spoke a single line of his language, almost like a prayer or benediction. Immediately, Zakkili words slid across the screen of his device.
[Crown Daughter] Nalyra, I surrender to you [myself] and my [honor].
After a long moment, she reached out and grasped the dagger.