Coeus?

“

The different types of mages vary strongly in abilities and character. Some of them are as peaceful as an intelligent being can be. Others are as aggressive as an angrolian gnar. Others are simply unpredictable. It's them whom you have to be wary of. So when talking to a mage the first thing you do is to confirm whom you are talking to.

”

-Ilin Kleio

***Star-82579, Aether***

***Ilin Kleio***

“This city is fantastic!” Ayo races forward to talk to another random stranger. My companion is interviewing various citizens while I am still trying to wrap my mind around this species.

Their main means of transportation is the public teleportation network. Even though the streets offer the possibility to drive vehicles, they are rarely used. It's strange that his city looks so familiar to one of ours and yet there are differences which make it completely alien. No Forlorn would want to live inside a huge square block, we like our houses round.

If someone without the ability to activate the teleporters wants to get around the city he either needs his own shuttle or help from a mage. If Ayo and I hadn't a silent companion who is taking us where we want to go, we would be unable to get around without a lot of walking.

Then there is the fact that there are no servants. All public places are managed by robots. Most disconcerting. I have to remind my people that the mages are probably looking down on most forms of servitude and slavery.

Aether also seems like a very carefully planned living space. It's to be expected from a habitat environment, but the sense for the small stuff is still extraordinary. There are probably rules in place  to stop people from simply doing their own thing.

Any Forlorn city is bound to grow and change in an organic manner. Streets are curved and buildings are erected and demolished as needed. Aether looks like someone drew a few straight lines on a blueprint. Maybe I am too harsh. Our people don't even have such big space colonies.

I take another look at the map of the solar system which the mages are calling their home. I acquired it from a shop and I still can't fully believe it. The mages seem to have been a space faring race for almost two thousand years and they never left Sol.

If those numbers are correct, then they have at least the same population as the entire Forlorn species cramped into a single solar system! We have dozens of settled worlds. And they are practically immortal compared to us. I've talked to people who claimed to be over four hundred cycles old. The members of my species are considered as old when we reach eighty.

I really don't want to make a mistake and fall to assumptions, but they could be worse than the Drazi in terms of population pressure. Though I've found less indications for the problem than I had assumed. They must be controlling their numbers somehow. Not that we Forlorn are any better in that regard.

My train of thought is interrupted by Ayo's return. “Do you know that they speak several different languages? I've been told that their lesser evolved brethren who are still living on their homeworld know even more different ones. I want to go there.”

“I doubt that they'll allow that. They are very guarded about everything regarding their home-system.” I answer.

“But still. All this is new and interesting. I wish we wouldn't have to go to that meeting with the Grahu. Though it might be interesting to see if they can deal with the Grahu.” Ayo turns to face our guide. “Could you bring us back to the embassy?”

Our guide with the white mask nods and walks to a nearby teleportation chamber. Both Ayo and I follow him, but my thoughts are somewhere else.

The Grahu are a very aggressive and combatant species. They've already beaten back several incursions by the Drazi. Then there is also the fact that they are focused on sticking to their social codes. Outsiders be damned. Anyone who isn't able to stick to their behavioural rules is seen as fair game.

We Forlorn had to train specialized mediators to have a decent talk with them. If I remember correctly the empire had to go through several hands of diplomats before we learned to communicate.

The Grahu have a nasty habit of making trophies out of people who insult them. And insulting them is much too easy. I doubt that the mages will be able to have a decent talk with them.

If it wouldn't be an insult to speak for someone else, we Forlorn could have spoken on behalf of the Mages. At least we gave them a complete list of social mannerisms for the Grahu. If they can avoid the three hundred and sixty-five ways to challenge someone to a fight, their diplomats might even survive the first few lessons in communication.

Our guide returns us to the embassy and we teleport directly to the station which was created by the Grahu especially for first contact. The Grahu are very sensitive to smell and once the discussion is over they will incinerate the entire construct to get rid of the stench of outsiders. The entire station isn't much more than a room with a glass front separating it in two. The glass front fulfils the purpose of separating both parties and acts as a smell-protection for the fine noses of the Grahu.

In the centre of the huge room is a separate big, glass chamber with air locks. The Grahu speakers with talk from face to face with the outsiders there.

Once at the station I and Ayo join a group of seven mages and four Forlorn who are already waiting in the chamber. I recognize our military advisor and one of our diplomats. The mages are all unknown to me, though four of them are wearing the masks of their police. Not that I can discern between individuals anyway. The masks aren't helping either.

“That's the technician!” Ayo jumps one of the mages and takes his hand to greet him.

“My name is Gideon, for the last time.” The mage answers in an annoyed tone. Thanks to Ayo's help I recognize Gideon by his haircut. The technician somehow became Aether's administrator since we last met him. I've already studied their government, but I find it a little extreme. There has to be some sort of legitimacy and accomplishments in my opinion. As I understood the mages, they would follow an infant as long as it proves that it's smart.

Ayo engages in a heated discussion with Gideon. The mage obviously isn't interested in talking to the Zeen. His entire behaviour shows that he would rather be somewhere else and I notice that he isn't even paying attention to the group of ten Grahu who enter the room from the entrance at the other side of the glass front.

I've never seen the huge, naked bi-pedals personally, but right now I feel very happy that there is a front of sturdy glass between them and us. The mages are already bigger than the average Forlorn and the Grahu tower three heads even above them.

A large long snout with entirely too many teeth for my taste is accompanied by four slit eyes. The strong arms have three segments and end in hands with four clawed fingers.

The average Grahu consists of not much more than muscles, bone and claws. The tiny brain is protected by a heavy bone shield on their heads and the skin is a thick, leathery hide.

“Gods! I've never seen something that ugly!” Gideon shakes his head and mumbles something, speaking too fast for me to understand. “And to think that I've to be here to represent Aether. I could be with Cyla instead! This job sucks. I didn't get to see her since yesterday.”

I turn to Ayo who is happy to translate his words to my native language. “He says that since his role here is just being a representative and looking nice, he rather would like to engage in reproductive activities with his breeding partner instead.”

I make the gesture for understanding. “I can sympathize with him. To be honest I myself am a little concerned where I should lay my next egg. Simply dropping it somewhere in Aether feels inappropriate.”

Ayo spreads all his hands in shock. “I would have never thought that I would hear a Forlorn showing concern for their offspring. Are you feeling ill, Illin?”

I circle my head and nod. “It's just that I am concerned to disturb the mages somehow. They seem to care for minor life-forms.”

“Ah, I misunderstood. That's spoken more like a true Forlorn, Illin.” Ayo answers.

“There is no reason to treat an infant like a person. Unless they've proven that they can think they aren't much more than animals.” I explain. Some aliens are truly strange in that regard.

The Grahu make the first step in entering the transparent negotiation chamber. Five of them are speakers, the others stay on the other side of the glass front. The mages also send five of their numbers to greet the Grahu.

The mage who was decided to be the first speaker does a good job on going through the ritual symbolism which is required for a conversation between equals.

The entire ceremony takes a good minute of complicated gestures and grunts, ending with a hearty pat on each other's shoulder. That's when things go wrong.

The enthusiastic speaker for the Grahu decides to test his adversary's strength and forgets to pull in it's claws. The mage flinches as the sharp claws dig into soft skin. A sign of weakness which is immediately taken advantage of.

The swipe of the Grahu's leg sends the mage into the wall behind him and knocks him out. I wince as the mages make the mistake of seeing to their wounded comrade which automatically lowers their status to herd animals. “That's bad. The mages will have to work hard to regain their status.”

The wounded mage is carried out of the confrontation chamber while the Grahu laugh with a characteristic snarling tone. At least they aren't attacking any further because it would lower their status to attack something that has its back to them.

When the mages are out of the chamber, the speaker steps forward and tastes the smear of blood on the wall to ritually claim the prey.

The mages fall into frantic discussions with our experts, but I already know the outcome. The only chance to solve this is paying a hefty fee to the Grahu.

“That's as much as I expected.” Ayo nods solemnly.

Gideon watches the entire exchange with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes wander several times to the door until he decides to take action. “This is taking too long! I could've been at home ten minutes ago if you had done it as I suggested. Let me solve this, barbarians have to be treated as such.” Gideon steps forward and enters the chamber alone before anyone can stop him.

He walks past the five Grahu who are too curious and baffled to stop him. It's a grievous insult to face a group of speakers with less speakers. It's akin to saying that they aren't worth to be paid the proper respect.

Upon Gideon reaching the air-lock on the Grahu's side of the room the five Grahu who stayed on the other side ready themselves to pounce. But Gideon doesn't activate it. He simply punches the controls, which results in a small puff of smoke and burnt electronics.

Then he turns around to face the five baffled speakers and snarls in broken Grahu. “Now the prey can't run.”

The first speaker jumps at Gideon, opening its large snout to bite off his head. But the mage just reaches up and grabs the upper and lower half of the speaker's jaw. With a snap he unhooks the lower jaw and tilts the Grahu's head in an unhealthy ninety degree angle to the rest of its body. The much larger alien tilts sideways and lands with a heavy thump on the ground.

Now the other four Grahu attack, but the technician calmly walks into their charge. A clawing paw parts empty air and Gideon's fist impacts another Grahu's chest. The much larger creature is lifted up into the air and impacts the ceiling accompanied by the crunching of bones.

Gideon grabs a third attacker's claw and bends it backwards, breaking it and sending him into the glass front towards the five Grahu spectators. The sealing holds, but a huge crack appears in the safety glass.

The fourth Grahu gets in a kick on Gideon's back. That's sure to lower his status, but the alien doesn't seem to care at the moment. The technician is flung forward, but spins in mid-air, landing on the glass front and sticks to it in a gravity defying move.

He grabs the stunned Grahu who was flung against the glass by a leg and swings him at the attacker. One, two, three wet smacks of flesh on flesh reverberate through the room until the mage lets go of his improvised weapon. The Grahu in his hands isn't even twitching at this point and I can easily image that the most important bones in its body are all broken. He is carelessly dropped onto the fourth Grahu who had to suffer the impacts.

Number five jumps Gideon, but the mage locks arms with the much larger alien. He barely avoids the snapping snout and for a second it looks like the Grahu is matching the mage in strength.

A grin appears on Gideon's face and an a blue light starts shimmering around the mage. Then the alien is lifted from its feet and its right shoulder is dislocated with a sickening noise. Flesh tears and a spray of violet Grahu blood sullies the glass front.

Gideon drops the torn off arm and changes his grip on the screaming Grahu. He lifts the monster  above his head and brings it down on his knee, snapping him like a stick. The scream ends as the Grahu is neatly folded and impacts the ground with his head.

The technician stands up and points a bloody finger at the five watching Grahu. Then he speaks again in his broken version of their language since his vocal cords aren't really up to the task. “The people whom we sent in here were talkers, but we also have people like me who don't do talking. You! Choose with whom of us you want to deal.”

All five Grahu pull their lips over their teeth to hide them in a gesture of non-aggression.

.