He could hesitate no longer. It was time to face the Dinavri. Atlas stepped out of the shelter of the shuttle and was greeted by a predictable show of Dinavri might. There were dozens of warriors clustered around the exit. It might easily have been mistaken for a show of force, but Atlas knew it was not. If they had wanted to be intimidating, there would have been hundreds of warriors and those warriors would have been actively armed. They would have rushed the gangway as it unfolded in the effort to make him startle and appear weak. This greeting was civilized and respectful, more so than he felt he deserved.
“Greetings,” he said, raising his right hand palm up. “I come in peace.”
Someone in the background spat.
There was tension, there could be no doubt about that. Atlas was standing in stead of the entire Authority. Contact with the Dinavri was rare, and most of the admiralty were reluctant to meet in person due to the overwhelming likelihood of being murdered as a trophy. Atlas was merely a commander. His death would bring no honor.
“Commander Atlas. Welcome.”
The leader who spoke was Lord Sithren. Atlas had been studying what was known of him in a razor-thin dossier that did very little to illuminate what kind of a person he was.
Atlas had hoped they would meet him at the ship with the prisoner in chains, perform the transfer, and be gone. But Sithren was not going to let things happen that easily. The prisoner did not appear to be anywhere nearby. If he were dealing with any other species, Atlas would have suspected that he was being led into a trap. But the Dinavri did not do traps. They considered them honorless and worthless.
Atlas let a beat pass, then made the obvious inquiry, as they would have expected him to do.
“I’m here for the prisoner.”
“Of course you are. But this is not a simple transaction. We are not Authority shopkeepers. Those who deal with us, must deal with us, Kitari.”
Atlas knew very well that his species was a boon when dealing with the Dinavri. The Dinavri and the Kitari shared a common ancestor humans did not. Something particularly dark and primal lurked in their bloodlines.
The Dinavri were scaled over almost every part of their bodies besides their bellies and necks. Their armor was made to cover those delicate regions, and as it was a source of shame that they had a delicate region, the armor was made to look as close to their natural scaling as possible. The royal Dinavri had armor so accurate it was seamless. More lowly ranked specimens had armor that appeared more cartoonish in nature. The particular beast he was speaking to now had a blue-hued scale armor that matched his own scaling to near perfection. He must have been very highly ranked and decorated to afford such a piece of art. Atlas was impressed.
The Dinavri were an alluring race in many respects. Their rugged insistence on independence and reliance on their own military capabilities spoke to Atlas and many Kitari. The Dinavri would never submit to the Authority. Nor were they interested in becoming the Authority. They were the Dinavri. They would live and die as they were, making no compromises.
Lord Sithren’s appearance was quite striking. His eyes were vertical slitted and gold. Some of the humans Atlas knew would have described the Dinavri as snake people. That was because humans only knew things in relation to other things. They were creatures of comparison and opposition. The Dinavri were an old and proud race, and Atlas was genuinely honored to be tolerated by them.
“Will you drink the v’kar with us? Or do your petty regulations prevent you from imbibing the soul of another kind?”
The liquid was deep purple and smelled like a forest distilled. It was rumored to be heavily psychoactive. Authority regulations forbade emissaries from becoming intoxicated while on mission. The Dinavri knew that. They were very familiar with all the petty little twists of Authority regulations, and they had a reputation for using them all to their advantage.
“I would be honored to drink the v’kar,” Atlas replied.
“Then come, enjoy some hospitality before you return on your long journey back to what some might call civilization.”
Sithren’s eyes glittered with quiet glee, though his tone was deadpan. He was extremely sassy for a Dinavri. It was almost as though the Authority perception of the species might have been largely based on propaganda.
Atlas allowed himself to be led away from his shuttle. He had a brief thought to have Jerri come with him, but it was better she remained hidden and more important, unheard. She was not capable of diplomacy in any form as far as he was concerned.
Dinavri architecture was scaled much like the creatures themselves. Every building was a work of art, with spires reaching high into the sky. Each home had its own standard with complex symbology emblazoned thereon. The purple-gray sky was full of these fluttering banners. It created quite a stunning sight.