“What kind of assurances?” Vallar Havasse asked.
“If you want our military technologies and support, you would need to agree to a real alliance. And frankly, the history of Shara Daim is such that we don’t really know if we could trust you enough for that,” Adrian said. He glanced at Anessa and saw her looking at him with her expression darkened. He knew that she wanted to change her people, but there was really no guarantee that she would succeed.
“The leadership of Shara Daim is changed, I will not allow the same things that the Elders did,” Anessa said.
“I understand that, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you have spent the great chunk of your history destroying other civilizations,” Adrian said.
Anessa moved to say something, but Vallar Havasse interrupted her. “What are your conditions for an alliance?”
“Completely open borders, freedom of movement for both military and civilian ships and personnel. Several joint colonies to be established in both territories, with mixed settlements and educational programs in order to bring both people closer. Exchange of military instructors, full sharing of military technologies. Agreement of mutual defense. And an agreement of conduct.”
Both Anessa and Vallar Havasse looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. “An agreement of conduct?” Havasse asked.
“A set of rules by which both empires conduct themselves in dealings with other intelligent life in the galaxy. For example, if a planet with an intelligent lifeform that hasn’t yet reached space is encountered, that planet and the systems in the range of ten lightyears will be left alone as the right of that race, with no contact to be established until they have reached space. Would you be able to agree to something like that?” Adrian asked.
Havasse and Anessa exchanged a look, and Adrian felt them speak with their minds for a short interval. “We could; it isn’t that much different than our current policy,” Havasse said.
Adrian knew that Shara Daim ignored other life unless it was in the way. Adrian brought out another data chip and placed it on the table. “This is the list of all the requirements for a full alliance that the Empire needs from their allies. Some are negotiable, others are not.”
Havasse took the data chip, and spoke with Anessa privately again. “We will study this document and continue these talks afterwards, if that is acceptable to you?”
“Of course,” Adrian said, and stood to return to his quarters.
The next day, he found himself back at the same table across from Anessa and Vallar Havasse.
“We have looked over your requirements, and we can abide by them. But we have a few additional requests,” Vallar Havasse said.
“What kind of requests?” Adrian asked.
“We would like to be given historical data from the device left by our ancestor,” she said.
Adrian thought about it, but then concluded that there wasn’t really any reason not to grant that request. “Alright, but you still haven’t given me a reason to believe the Shara Daim will be trustworthy in the future.”
“We understand that our past makes it difficult for you to trust us. Many of our people will have trouble accepting the new ways, but we are adamant to change. Even before Kar Daim removed the Elders from power, some of us were seeking a change,” Vallar Havasse said. “So in order to win that trust, we are prepared to eschew the right to your military technology. We would provide all the rest of what your agreement requires. But in return for this, we want your immediate direct military aid against the Erasi invaders.”
Adrian scratched his chin as he thought about it. Without the Empire’s military technology, the Shara Daim would be at a disadvantage, true. And it would give them time for the two people to grow and trust one another. Tomas and his teams had projected that the Erasi were going to be a threat in the long run. Their practices were shadowy, and they liked to manipulate other races; it was only a matter of time before they did the same thing to the Empire as they had just done to the Shara Daim. In addition, their laws allowed for anything and everything to be bought and sold in their space, including slaves. Both the Shara Daim and the Empire didn’t allow for slavery. Then there was the fact that both of the races were descended from Axull Darr. That kind of connection was a solid foundation for them to build on.
Giving them military aid, on the other hand, was a bit different, mainly because the Empire didn’t have as many assets that they could commit to a war. By now the Empire should have around ten fleets, a fifth of what the Shara Daim had. Committing any of those fleets would weaken the Empire considerably.
He mulled it over a bit more, thinking about what Tomas would want. His orders were clear: the Empire needed to expand and make powerful allies. The enemy that the People had created was out there, and they needed to start preparing now. Coming to a decision, Adrian turned to Anessa and Vallar Havasse.
“I could accept that, but as far as military aid goes, the Empire can’t commit a lot of resources to your war,” Adrian said.
“How much could you commit?” Anessa asked.
“We could probably send six fleets, around the same number as six of your Legions. All fleets equipped with our skimming technology,” Adrian said.
“Skimming?”
“Our name for the normal-space FTL drives our ships use.”
“Six Legions isn’t much, but your technology does give you an advantage,” Anessa mused.
Adrian decided that there was a bit more that the Empire could add. “We could also provide you with our defense platforms; we could build them in our systems and ship them over to you. I don’t know if you have something better.”
“Ours are about the same strength…” Anessa said, “That would be useful as well. How many could you provide us if we make an agreement today, and how quickly?”
“Two thousand in one shipment. It would take several months for them to get here, though; we would need to set up relay point between here and the Empire to get the communications between us faster. We can build two thousand platforms every eight months in Sol,” Adrian said.
“Eight months?” Anessa and Vallar Havasse both said, shocked.
Adrian nodded. “Yes, we have a manufacturing technology that allows us much faster construction than by conventional assembly.”
“And would you be willing to share that technology?” Anessa asked quickly. He detected that it would mean a lot for them. She probably knew that it would take Shara Daim shipyards much longer to replace the losses against the Erasi. The fabricating tech was technically a military technology, which they would share with their allies. He thought about it and then an idea struck him.
“We would be ready to share this tech, but in return for something,” Adrian said.
“In return for what?” Vallar Havasse asked.
“I want several of your best Sha instructors to go to the Empire and teach my people. In return for that, I will give you our fabricating technology,” Adrian said.
Both Anessa and Havasse looked taken aback, and they conferred mentally. After several minutes, they both turned to him. “We can agree to that,” Havasse said.
“Then I will have a document drawn up and sent to you as fast as possible, outlining everything that we have discussed.”
Two days later, Adrian found himself sitting in Anessa’s quarters again. They had just finished having a meal together, prepared by her chef. The food had been delicious, but a bit on the dry side compared to human meals. The conversation during the meal had been friendly, with no talk of deals and war; they had both signed the document agreeing to the alliance yesterday. Instead, they had talked about their childhoods and how they differed. It was an interesting conversation, and Adrian had managed to get Anessa’s age out of it. She was one hundred and seventy-seven years old. A bit older than Adrian, who was eighty-six—or technically one hundred and forty-six, but he had spent much of the sixty-year trip in stasis, waking periodically to check up on things during Olympus’s hyperspace trip from Earth to Sanctuary. He didn’t really know how much time he had spent awake, but it was several years at least. And then there was the time he spent in his mind-space, which several decades at least.