This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/YukiteruAmano92 on 2026-02-05 19:33:55+00:00.
---Courtesy---
---Ndum’s perspective---
I sit down, grimly, beside my wife and opposite the gigantic arachnoid and diminutive, green skinned biped women.
Khr’kowan is sat on the floor and Viig on a chair that brings her eyes up to the same level as the rest of ours.
“Thank you for coming, Representatives.” I say, my voice hoarse from the lack of sleep I’ve had recently “I’ve called you here to inform you that we believe Bastion has been located and we wished to do you the courtesy of informing you both before anyone else outside the Terran military, governments or intelligence service.”
The Vrakhand’s lips fall open and her six remaining eyes widen in shock.
The Twigg has a look of visible confusion on her face for a few moments before the memory clicks into place and she asks “The place where the metal man was from? The place that kidnapped Thran and Victor and made Khr’kowan spit in a tube to get them back?”
“The very same.” I acknowledge, still sombre.
“That sounds like fantastic news, Representative… Why don’t you seem at all pleased by it?” asks the warrior-queen.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Because… Khr’kowan, Viig… it was discovered on an inhabited cradleworld… DonOlu… If you recall ASO Tuun ‘Elf’? She was a Don of DonOlu but their kind are extremely rare to see in the wider galaxy as a result of their nonmembership in the GU… Legally, they are protected from contact by very stringent noninterference statutes… I truly wish it could have been otherwise… that we could have found Bastion on an otherwise uninhabited rock that it would have been completely unproblematic to deal with.”
“So, there’s going to be a huge shitstorm about this then?” observes Viig both crassly and astutely.
“We very much expect that there will be, yes…” my wife provides, matching my joyless tone “…The UTC does have explicit military independence from the rest of the GU but this will be the first time that it’s been put to the test, in quite this way, since we joined… There’s a vote scheduled to pass through the planetary Diet of Új-Pannónia tomorrow night. It will represent a supermajority of UTC worlds that have authorised military action… It’s expected to pass and, afterwar-”
“Wait!” snarls Viig “You’re going to war with these people?! Why not just ask them to hand you the idiots? If they hate outsiders that much, surely they don’t want them there, right!?”
“It’s… a little more complicated than that…” I grimace “…For one thing, DonOlu has no FTLcoms array. In order to send them a message they would receive any time in the next five years, we would already have to violate their sovereignty by approaching within their exclusion zone. For another, based on the same intelligence that alerted us to the location, we also believe that some portion of DonOlu’s elites are already aware of the Revanchists’ presence on their world and in active collusion with them for as yet unknown reasons… Even if we could communicate with them to ask them to simply hand over those to whom Terran law should apply, the risk we run is that the conspirators among the Don government would almost certainly pass information along to Bastion… which would lose us any advantage we currently hold… As it stands, our best hope is that Bastion has underestimated us. They know we know where they are but, if they think it will take us 6 months to get to them, we can take them by surprise by getting to them inside of 12 weeks… before they’ve had a chance to evacuate.”
Khr’kowan nods grim acceptance.
Viig scowls her disapproval of our dishonesty.
Nirina continues the thought that Viig interrupted “Once supermajority approval has been achieved, a press release will be sent to every publication in the galaxy. A fleet will depart Nova Fennoscandia directly thereafter and arrive at DonOlu around an hour later. We fully expect a motion to be submitted to Parliament calling for us to be censured, sanctioned or even have our membership suspended.”
Both of the other women look appropriately dismayed by that suggestion.
---Walath’s perspective---
I look through my fingers at the couple sitting across from me in the office I took over from my aunt, not [7 months] ago.
It’s been a long few moments of silence.
Finally, I speak “I’m… sympathetic, Representative and Ambassador… I truly wish I could vote against whatever motion-”
“That’s not what we’re asking, Representative.” clarifies the tall, slim man in his deep voice “We fully understand how politically destabilising it would be for your kingdom (both from within and without) to vote in our favour on a motion such as this when it inevitably gets brought before Parliament… We only wanted to do you the courtesy of warning you so that you had some advance notice in which to prepare. We would never ask you to sacrifice your own nation’s stability for ours.”
In retrospect, perhaps suggesting myself as Battan Representative to my father was a poor move… this job is terrible for my anxiety!
I collapse against my seatback, my hands moving to massage my scalp, vainly trying to soothe the instant stress headache.
My thoughts are chaos… then, all at once, clarity…
I sit back up, my straightened posture and expression causing four patches of Terran overeye fur to be raised in curiosity.
“I can’t vote against censure, sanctions or any other form of condemnation…” I announce, my tone causing them to lean forward to hear the rest “…but, what I can do is put together an extremely coherent case against suspending or expelling you from the GU… The only thing is…” I trail off.
Intrigued, the woman asks “Is what, Representative?”
Sucking in a sharp breath through my teeth, I grimace “The… tone… I absolutely could not couch it in terms of being unfair to the UTC or against your people’s interests… I would need to put it in terms of the GU needing to keep oversight of you… It would need to be quite… sneering… I would need to channel some of my aunt’s Terraphobia to make it sound as if, if we cut you loose, who knows what you might do…”
Both Terrans are so flabbergasted, it takes several long [seconds] before Ndum speaks “Representative… We couldn’t ask-!”
“And you’re not asking!” I interrupt, surprising myself with my own ferocity “I’m offering! All I need you to do is tell me whether you would prefer me to give a condescending explanation of how wildly unpredictable your species would be if turned loose from the confines of galactic society… or for me to hold my peace and let whatever would otherwise happen happen!?”
A moment of stunned silence follows.
Finally, Nirina says “Representative… We would be grateful beyond measure if you would do as you have suggested… We could never thank you enough!”
I sigh “Alright then… I’ll start drafting it as soon as you’ve left…” drafting a speech that will forever deny me the ability to make another friend among the Terrans…
---Krim’s perspective---
I study the squat, stocky little beings sat across from me in my office, my mind roiling.
There has been no impropriety here.
They have made no requests, no threats that I could perceive, veiled or otherwise.
They have not implied that they wish me to do anything but present the motion as normal when it arrives, neutrally and impartially.
I speak “I thank you for the courtesy of informing me, Representative and Ambassador. If that’s all, you may leave.” giving a dismissive flick of my hand towards the door.
---Kara’s perspective---
The shuttle I’m riding in with the G-woman and (hot) G-man touches down.
The three of us get up and make for the door.
I steal a sidelong glance at the bulky arm just on my left, trying not to be too obvious about it.
I’ve been released on temporary license to go with the invasion fleet on the same ship I was arrested on, two years ago.
I was the only Bastionite prisoner on this planet so I was uniquely positioned to consult.
I can request to go back to Lysivangr at any time but it’s been made fairly explicitly clear to me that I’ll be considered a fugitive if I try and use this as an opportunity to skip out on the remainder of my rehabilitation(!)
We step off the craft and have the arse-end of that giant bird ship pointed at us, loading ramp down, under the Fennoscandian twilight.
I see the man I watched get married a few months ago (my genetic son(!)) talking with his wife, his three mothers-in-law and that weird, lanky Frogman who was also at the wedding and who… screams… a lot!
Victor notices me and runs over.
“Hey Kara… Hello Agent Mpanzudóttir… Agent Kollsveinsson …” he greets “…I’ll give you the tour, show you your rooms and introduce you two to Leon and Ziva if you like?” the last bit aimed at the UTCIS agents.
“Please do, Mr Taylor.” invites the pokerfaced woman on my right, flatly.