Jeff Kozzi

Chapter 7:  Unifikashun

Kajer Manshun, Intergal 49:5:62179

The Blakkarrion was an unwelcome visitor into the grand foyer of the Kajer Manshun, yet the emperor of twelve worlds still awed Margaret, Kethe’s human butler and head-of-household. Even more unwelcome, and more terrifying, was his entourage. Four Blakkarrions numbered among them, along with two Dogomons, four Quiglinis, a half-dozen Bekks, and four Wellnighs, twenty-one aliens, all members of the Blakkarrion Empire. That fact alone daunted her, beyond her fears that the group looked unruly enough that they might break the classical furniture that had been in the mansion for centuries. The Koman Empire was almost unfathomably bigger, and stood firm in a centuries-old cold war with Interworld Kounsil space, but the Blakkarrion Empire was far more aggressive.

Margaret’s smile failed to conceal her fear. "King Kajer will be with you momentarily." The human woman of sixty-seven had been born into the sub-royalty that served Shalhoon’s true royalty. Margaret’s seniority of service had brought her to chance encounters with many people of astounding foreign custom, but no group had ever held such a commanding and threatening presence. Ever professional, she barely allowed her fear and reservations to enter her voice. "Please, make yourself comfortable." Holding the edges of her blue and yellow layered lace skirt, she courtsied.

Emperor Tsaan hoped his last dose of spray covered the meaty halitosis of his recent meal. "I thank you for your hospitality. Your service is greatly appreciated, fair damsel."

"He is charming enough," Margaret mumbled to herself as she ascended the stairs to Kethe’s main office. She knocked on the open door, and stood under the threshold.

"Master—er, King Kajer, sir, Emperor Tsaan has arrived." She gazed at the dainty golden chronometer on her arm. "Quite punctually too, I might add."

Kethe noticed Margaret’s trembling hands. His brown eyes examined her with genuine concern. "Marj, are you all right?"

"Yes, Sire. Of course, sir."

Kethe smiled kindly. He stood from his desk and stepped to her. "Marj, what’s wrong?"

"Oh, poo, I am an old fool to try to hide something from a spry youngster like yourself, sir. It is that Tsaan character. He brought such a party with him. They appear quite menacing."

Kethe’s jaw locked. Had Tsaan intended to be threatening? Margaret’s forewarning could prove priceless. "Yes, Marj. Why don’t you take the afternoon off? I’ll escort the Emperor here myself."

"Oh, no, Sire, I couldn’t do that. I’ve been in service to the family all my life, and I’ve never-ever shirked my duty before. I’m too old to begin now, just because of some fifteen or twenty brutes."

"‘Fifteen’?!"

"More, sir, maybe more. Most definitely more."

Kethe growled to himself. "Okay. I’ll see to them."

Margaret grasped the doorframe, blocking Kethe with her plump, wrinkled form. "No, sir. It is my duty, and I shall perform such until my last breath, just as my Walter did." Her husband had served the Kajers as the chauffeur for forty years until the fatal flight of Alisia Kajer’s last journey.

Margaret’s nannying through the years had conditioned Kethe against argument with her. "Well, then, Margaret, you show Emperor Tsaan in—and make it clear to the brute that I will see him and him only."

"Oh, yes, Sire."

"And while you take care of that, I’ll make a note to give you a bit of a bonus."

"Oh, sir, I cannot cheat you. I received my regular bonus just—"

"That was your regular contractual bonus. This bonus rewards all the hard labor—and dedication—you’ve given the family all these years. You treat those grandchildren right with it."

"Yes, sir, I will, sir, thank you, Sire!"

Kethe beamed, feeling better than he had even upon his receipt of the Chrid. It hung at his side, seemingly reflecting his altruistic pride with its golden glimmer. He returned to his desk, jotted down a reminder for his servant’s bonus, then folded several reports into his briefcase. He closed the yuunleather satchel and placed it under his Kodia-oak desk. He settled further into the padded seat as Tsaan entered, his large boots stomping on the hardwood floor.

Tsaan’s shoulder-whips snapped at the doorframe as he stooped a few kroop to enter Kethe’s office. "Emperor Kethe Kajer, it is my honor!" He extended his three-fingered, clawed hand.

"‘King’," Kethe corrected as he rose and leaned across the desk to accept the handshake. Tsaan’s two-fingered fist closed around Kethe’s delicate human hand. The Blakkarrion squeezed quite hard. Intentionally, Kethe felt certain. However, Kethe didn’t flinch. He shook the Blakkarrion’s rough hand, hoping the claws didn’t sink further into his wrist. He’d never seen a Blakkarrion that wasn’t pure muscle, rippled from their skull-cups to their clawed toes. And Tsaan was clearly the biggest, mightiest Blakkarrion Kethe had ever seen, supporting the fact that the throne of Blaakos was achieved by single combat, a death duel. Loser die, winner take all: including a twelve-world empire to rule as he saw fit. Their handshake ended. Marj pulled the wood-and-glass doors closed and retreated down the hall.

The young king’s will and stamina impressed Tsaan. He made a mental note of Kethe’s resumption of his seat before accommodation of his guest.

"Let me adjust the chair for you." Kethe pressed a few controls, and the seat on the other side of the desk raised and widened to comfort the twelve-kroop Blakkarrion.

"Thank you," Tsaan bellowed cheerfully, lowering himself into the plush piece.

"My compliments," Kethe assured with a wan smile.

"Speaking of compliments, let me tell you how impressed I was with your coronation speech. It really brought matters to the heart."

"I’m glad to see my goals appreciated," Kethe said. "I’ve been told my ambition may exceed my station." He thought of his father, and all Haarl’s awkward situations and embarrassments. He banished the thoughts almost instantly. He couldn’t dwell on Haarl’s unknown whereabouts. Kethe believed the stereotypes of Blakkarrions too strongly to allow even the slightest distraction to root in his mind.

In diplomacy contrary to everything Blakkarrion, Tsaan ignored the reference to Haarl’s touch at the coronation. Then, realizing Kethe had not vocalized his gnawing concerns, Tsaan coughed. He couldn’t afford to arouse Kethe’s suspicions by seizing the simplest bridges. "Yes, yes. We in the great Blakkarrion Empire greatly appreciate your objectives for your term."

A chill tickled Kethe’s back, like a shadow in his mind. He felt that a change of subject would serve his best interests. "And I greatly appreciated your patience with my father at the Honorarium. He hasn’t been the same since my mother died."

"What? Oh, that. I’d forgotten all about it, my young friend. A man’s grief must be dealt with patience...as all things should be."

"I wanted to be sure I thanked you."

"And the appreciation of Shalhoon’s mighty emperor is praise indeed."

"‘King’," Kethe corrected again.

"Har! They both mean ‘leader’!"

Kethe gave Tsaan another glimpse of the wan smile.

Tsaan flicked his whips habitually. Human and Blakkarrion studied each other for several silent moments. "As I said, I was very impressed with your coronation address. You have an energy and vigor that has already become a rave throughout the empire."

"...Thank you."

"We haven’t seen such a leader arise in years. You have a charisma that we thought extinct in many races. And never have we been such impressed with a human, let me tell you. Even now, your assertiveness, your very air, intrigues me. I know that with you, and your objectives, you have been the ally my empire has so desperately sought."

Kethe raised an eyebrow, a personal red flag. "Never trust the Flatterer," Wisdom always said. Still, Kethe’s curiosity peaked. He tried to sound only partially interested. "An ally for what?"

"An ally for galactic Unifikashun."

Kethe’s eyebrow flickered. The Chrid pulsed at his side.

"We Blakkarrions are lynchpin of a twelve-world Unifikashun," Tsaan stated.

"No offense, Emperor, but you do call yourselves an ‘empire’. The Blakkarrion Empire, not the Blakkarrion Unifikashun."

"No offense taken, King Kajer. ‘Empire’ surely arose from the Simmellians. You realize they are arrogant little fellows. The differences in size between our two races has been much ill-will, most assuredly on their parts. They’re intimidated, and we Blakkarrions surely don’t blame them. Simmellians are so unarguably small."

"...True."

"I admit calamity has unfortunately occurred between our peoples. An occasional clumsy Blakkarrion has at times taken missteps onto one or two of the little people. But the Simmellians are insecure fellows. No matter how we apologize, or what tribute we offer, we’re refused. May I point out that in all but one of the Simmel-Blaakos Wars, the Simmellians declared war? Any history book will tell you so, no matter where it was written. And always because of misinterpretation of what we do." Tsaan hissed in a deep exhale. He had captured Kethe’s interest with words essentially the truth. Blakkarrion mistakes being mistakes could be debated, but Simmel had declared war eleven out of twelve times. Simmel was also the world that ultimately won most of the wars declared. Left unsaid and unthought, Blaakos never declared war. It simply attacked its targets, mercilessly.

"Continue, Emperor. I’m interested."

Tsaan’s prolonged breath masked his satisfaction. "Yesssessess. They call us an empire, while they flaunt their technology and build their own strongholds. Look right here. Shalhoon exists as a world due to the Simmellians. As does your moon, Shelswun. And Lekkro, and New Qualm, and dozens of other worlds."

"Yes, but—"

"But they are sly!" Tsaan bellowed. "They build, and give gifts, invite other races to populate their empire. They are crafty little stonesnoops!"

"Shalhoon is not under Simmellian control," Kethe assured. Simmel may have initiated and overseen the reoutfitting of the worlds that had become Shalhoon and Shelswun, but they had immediately turned free use of those worlds over to other races. The older Shelswun became a centrally-located manufacturing world of open citizenship to any who would come and work, while the larger Shalhoon limited itself to races without living homeworlds: humans, Noshinsis, and Qualmloids.

"Ah, but Shelswun is!" Tsaan said. "Simmel stepped in to keep their world profitable by saving the life of Bolas Scharo." Again the truth confronted Kethe, a truth he had never received a full briefing on. Before he had begun dating Veronika Masi, Bolas had once been briefly but intimately involved with Samantha; that seldom-mentioned history had kept any relationship between Bolas and Kethe cool. All these months later, Bolas was still recuperating, enjoying his renewed life with his wife and baby....

"And his child!" Tsaan echoed. "The Simmellians delivered the babe as well! Simmel profits from Shelswun, and surely they draw profit here, that your predecessors haven’t discovered."

Kethe tried to doubt. "I don’t think they—"

"They can do that!" Tsaan assured, as if he’d read Kethe’s thoughts. "Simmel sponsored your coronation."

"I wasn’t aware—"

"They are crafty, crafty," Tsaan drooled. "We Blakkarrions, as I have said, are not the throneworld, as in the Koman sense, but are the lynchpin in the Unifikashun. We take the responsibility to maintain our worlds, to guide them into coming to equal terms with Blaakos. When they do, they are our equals, regardless of how they first joined us. The twelve worlds of our Union are equals. Blaakos merely takes the responsibility for maintaining our member worlds, something the Simmellians escape. They step in only when necessary, as it became on Shelswun this year."

The Chrid hummed at Kethe’s thigh. Tsaan’s words made sense to him, and he no longer hid his interest. Some time in their conversation, he’d stopped fearing the Blakkarrion. "What are you proposing, my friend?"

"We Blakkarrions want to expand the Unifikashun, to let all worlds merge as one body, as preordained. Then we reach God, and possibly Godhood."

A devout Relk, Kethe believed in Pathways’ passages that Tsaan paraphrased. "Go on," he encouraged eagerly.

"We’re not a stupid people, as the Simmellians picture us to be. We know our scope, and we cannot possibly unify such a diverse and enormous galaxy alone. We need an ally. We’ve been looking for years. But no one had the insight. Until you came along. Your speech mirrored our own desires."

"You want me to enter Shalhoon, and hope other worlds follow suit."

"More than that, my young friend. You and I—Blaakos and Shalhoon—were destined to be partners. I see that clearly. I think we should ally ourselves fully, then move forward. We invite prospective worlds to join us and conquer those that don’t."

"I’m uncomfortable with conquest," Kethe admitted. "Shalhoon has never had a war, worldly or with another world."

"Your own Interworld Kounsil has tried such methods for eons, and they get nowhere. I am not asking you to try a new method. Nine out of twelve of the Unifikashun’s worlds began as conquests. Now they are our equals. We even took a dual-racial world like Dogomon and converted both races to our unity. We have proven our success twelve times over! What further evidence do you need?!"

"I need time. Time to think. Give me the time, and I’ll contact you."

Tsaan smiled. "Of course, Kethe." He stood and moved to the door, opening it slowly, allowing thoughts to penetrate.

Kethe’s head muddled somewhat. He shook it, and thought he shook it clear. "Tsaan, wait!"

The Blakkarrion emperor turned from his crouched posture beneath the doorframe, "Yes, Kethe?" he asked kindly as his twenty-first escort, a telepathic Wallfli, flew from his shoulder and down the hall to his waiting allies.

Kethe Kajer asked the inescapable question. "Why don’t we draw up the Blakkarrion Agreement now?"

He should have more carefully heeded the mythological Wisdom.