“I wish I’d killed you when I first saw you here,” orenThen said. “Us standing here talking about sunsets when you had this waiting for me. You and your damned Conclave.”
Gau spread his arms, opening himself. “Kill me, Chan. It won’t save this colony. It won’t stop the Conclave, either. Nothing you can do will stop the Conclave from taking this planet, or the next, or the next. The Conclave is four hundred peoples. Every race who fights against it fights alone. The Whaid. The Rraey. The Fran. The Humans. All of the others who have started colonies since the Agreement. If nothing else, it’s a matter of numbers. We have more. One race against one other race is one thing. One race against four hundred is quite another. All it will take is time.”
OrenThen turned away from Gau and toward his colony, bathed in light. “I’ll tell you something,” orenThen said to Gau. “You might find it ironic. When I was chosen to lead this colony, I warned the ataFuey that you would come for it. You and the entire Conclave. He told me that the Conclave would never form and that you were a fool for trying, and that I had been a fool for ever listening to you. There were too many races ever to agree to anything, much less a grand alliance. And that the enemies of the Conclave were working too hard to fail. He said the Humans would stop you if no one else did. He thought highly of their ability to set everyone against each other without getting involved themselves.”
“He wasn’t far wrong,” Gau said. “But the Humans overreached. They always do. The opposition they created to counter the Conclave fell apart. Most of those races are now more concerned about the Humans than they are about us. By the time the Conclave gets to the Humans, there may not be many of them left.”
“You could have gone after the Humans first,” orenThen said.
“In time,” Gau said.
“Let me put it another way,” orenThen said. “You didn’t have to come here first.”
“You were here,” Gau said. “You have a history with the Conclave. You have a history with me. Anywhere else and there would be no question that this would begin with destruction. Here you and I have a chance for something else. Something that will matter beyond this moment and this colony.”
“You’ve put a lot on me,” orenThen said. “And on my people.”
“I have,” Gau said. “I’m sorry, old friend. I couldn’t see any other way. I saw a chance to show people that the Conclave wants peace, and I had to take it. It’s a lot to ask of you. But I am asking you, Chan. Help me. Help me save your people, not destroy them. Help me build peace in our part of space. I beg this of you.”
“You beg me?” orenThen said, his voice rising. He advanced on Gau. “You have four hundred and twelve battleships pointing their weapons at my colony and you beg me to help you build peace? Fah. Your words mean nothing, old friend. You come here, peddling that friendship, and in return for it ask me to exchange my colony, my loyalty, my identity. Everything I have. At the end of a gun. To help you provide the illusion of peace. The illusion that what you do here is something other than simple, raw conquest. You dangle the lives of my colonists in front of me, and tell me to choose between making them traitors or killing them all. And then you suggest to me that you’re compassionate. You can go to hell, General.” OrenThen turned and stalked away, putting distance between himself and Gau.
“That’s your decision, then,” Gau said, some time later.
“No,” orenThen said, still facing away from the general. “It’s not a decision I can make on my own. I need time to talk to my people, to let them know what their choices are.”
“How much time do you need?” Gau said.
“The nights here are long,” orenThen said. “Give me this one.”
“It’s yours,” Gau said. OrenThen nodded and began to walk away.
“Chan,” Gau began, walking toward the Whaid. OrenThen stopped and held up one of his massive paws to silence the general. Then he turned and held out his paws to Gau, who took them.
“I remember meeting you, you know,” orenThen said. “I was there when the old ataFuey received the invitation to meet with you and every other race who would come to that damned cold rock of a moon you so grandly called neutral ground. I remember you standing at that podium, saying welcome in all the languages you could croak, and for the first time sharing your idea of the Conclave with us. And I remember turning to the ataFuey, and telling him that without a doubt, you were absolutely and totally madhouse insane.”
Gau laughed.
“And then afterward you met with us, as you met with every embassy there who would hear you,” orenThen said. “And I remember you trying to convince us that the Conclave was something we wanted to be a part of. I remember you winning me over.”