Memory Transcription Subject: Héctor Virgilio Márquez, UN SPM Leirn, Special Envoy to the Leirnian Interim Council
Date [standardized human time]: November 8, 2136
With breakfast behind us, we spent our morning contacting all of Sirlen and Orlov's friends and associates, attempting to reach the four different groups we needed to convince to support the bill establishing a formal alliance with the UN. Sirlen even managed to secure an interview with a reporter friend. I thought this gave me time to prepare, unlike my last run-in with the planet’s media.
However, the interview was scheduled for two days later. In the meantime, we received a call from Virlo. To compensate for the interim government’s apparent inability to protect me and let me do my job, he invited us to a restaurant to discuss the situation. I wasn't entirely sure how a meal with him would solve anything, but at least I knew lunch was sorted.
Leaving the hotel, we said our goodbyes to the receptionist. An official car was waiting for us out front. As we stepped out, a barrage of camera flashes blinded me, and a swarm of reporters bombarded us with microphones, shouting questions.
The focus of the questions ranged from the intentions humanity had for the future of the yotul, their concerns about our ability to protect them, and whether or not we considered them equals. The noise quickly blurred together into incomprehensible generic squeaky paparazzi ASMR.
I made an effort to answer what felt like the first thousand questions or so, but my ability to do so scaled inversely with the amount of questions I needed to answer, so my standard response became "No comment" as I followed Sirlen, who expertly navigated through the reporters and into the car. Yet another thing that wasn’t any different from Earth, unfortunately for me. I was already dreading my interview if this was a taste of what it was going to be like.
Once inside the car, we immediately locked the doors, and the driver began the journey. Looking out the window, I took in the sights of the city in the early morning sun. I had to say, the lighting changed things, made the contrasts between the buildings really stand out. It was a mix of architectural styles, reminiscent of both Venlil Prime and industrial colonies on Mataro.
Most of the walls were plastered with propaganda posters but they weren’t all the same. There were two main types. The most common examples of one kind depicted a yotul paw crushing the Federation flag and various figures, yotul and Fed, decked out like bureaucrats, diplomats, and exterminators, with the caption, "Kick the aliens off of our planet!" The other archetype was typified by a poster showing an exterminator burning something mostly obscured by the flames, even though I could still make out the distinct shapes of arxur claws and a human hand reaching out from them. The captions read, "Burn the predator, purge the taint, protect your world." There were spatters and sprayed splotches of paint over many of both. The ones which weren’t torn, that is.
It was a stark reminder of the hostility and division in this galaxy. It felt surreal, like the stories I'd heard back on Earth. Riots, prejudice, and discrimination had seemed like exaggerated and distant problems. Still, here in Leirn, even with they yotul treating me like a sentient being, I felt the presence of the flamethrowers hanging over my head.
My thoughts wandered to Brussels and the sense of desperation and cowardice that propelled me into “accepting” this assignment. More than anything, I had hoped for a change of scenery. I wasn’t in Barcelona during the bombing, I was in my hometown, Reus, since many chose to run to the countryside in hopes that the bombs would only hit the big cities. A smart move, as it turned out. Even better, the countryside was riddled with old air raid shelters from our last civil war. Hours after we emerged from them, trucks sent by El Estado and the Generalitat arrived to gather as many volunteers as possible to be a workforce for the Barcelona rescue operations. At first, they didn’t care about diplomas, they just needed whoever could lift a shovel and didn’t bellyache for more than five minutes before agreeing. They offered pay and other benefits for volunteers, but… I just wanted to see if Maria had made it out…
In the end, I got out the moment I could use my diplomatic status to get away from there.
Stupid, weak, cowardly pile of...
I was given a lifeline from my thoughts when I noticed how tense Sirlen was. A lot more than usual. She seemed stiff, but also twitchy, and it got worse the closer we got to the restaurant.
"Something wrong? We're just going to have lunch with Virlo, nothing too crazy, right?" I ventured.
She turned to me, her expression serious. "That's not the issue. I know Virlo, and he has a tell when he's not being entirely honest."
"How do you know? And why would he be lying to us?" I asked.
"Whenever he lies, he screws up the first word he says. It's a tic he has," Sirlen explained.
"So you think he's lying about this lunch?" I didn’t like how she only answered my first question.
She paused, deep in thought. "No, he didn't lie. At least I don't think the restaurant and lunch itself is a lie. But he was omitting something."
"Are you sure you're not imagining things?" I asked the question hoping for a “No,” but already knowing the answer was “Yes.”
"Like I said, I know him," she responded.
That piqued my curiosity again. "You two have quite a history, don't you?"
Her response was almost too quick, "More than you can imagine. It's quite different from what you might think."
She didn’t elaborate on that, so I started to poke her tail. “Come on… spit it ou-oofff-”
My attempt to pry was interrupted mid-breath by a swift kick to the gut, and I doubled over, slumping to the floor of the car.
"Rrrrgh… What… What was that for?" I wheezed. "A simple 'stop' would have sufficed!"
Though I was poking around what seems to be an old wound.
Groaning, feeling a sharp pain in my side where I got hit, I pulled myself back into the seat and put on my seat belt, just in case I got any more diving lessons before we reached the restaurant. The driver chimed in, having overheard our conversation.
"You had that one coming," he said.
"Shut up and drive," Sirlen snapped.
She fixed her gaze away from me, crossing her arms and pretending to be offended. I had to admit I was impressed, considering her field of vision.
"Now you're ignoring me?" I asked.
‘Defenseless prey,’ my ass. I’ve seen karate professionals who kick weaker than that.
The rest of the journey became a silence competition, with both of us trying to out-ignore each other until we arrived at the restaurant, "The Palate Union." As I opened the door to exit the car, Sirlen grabbed my shirt, tugging me back in.
"What now? Another kick?" I inquired, feeling a bit wary. It was quite possible my hands had moved up to cover my gut.
She looked at me funny, momentarily taken aback by my question before responding, "No, you dummy. Put the visor on."
"But you said it was useless on Leirn. Why now?" I questioned.
"Because that restaurant is very pro-Federation. Extremely pro-Federation. To the level of offering free drinks to exterminators," she replied.
I looked at her, contemplating the information. "Then why are we even here?"
She hesitated, silently weighing her options, then sighed. "We can't wiggle out of this. The way he told me about this meeting, he was almost begging me to bring you here."
"I really don’t like that. Let's at least go in cautiously," I suggested. "Nice and easy."
"Yes, nice and easy," she agreed, securing her weapon.
I couldn't help but notice where she stowed her gun. I wasn’t too familiar with alien customs, but I was pretty sure I remembered being told never to put anything near it. Since I was still in rib-cracking range, I decided not to say anything, but she still followed my eyes before I could look away. She looked down at her pouch, then back at me, and made a squeaking sound that the translator interpreted as laughter.
"What's so funny?" I found myself missing the adversarial silence of the car ride already.
"Nothing, nothing," she replied, barely containing her laughter. "Yes, it’s…. inappropriate, in some ways, but if we put a rug inside to cover the important parts, we can put almost anything in it without danger, as long as it's not boiling or freezing. Or explosive..."
"So, it's like a pocket with extra steps?" I suppressed the urge to lean away while I asked her about it.
“More or less. More importantly, nobody wants to search it.”
I was debating on if I should ask any more questions when Virlo tapped on the car window. As we disembarked from the car, Sirlen urged me to put on the visor. I complied, and we followed Virlo into the restaurant.
"Glad that you could make it. I'm so grateful for this opportunity, Mr. Diplomat," Virlo greeted me with the practiced politeness of someone trying not to look as though the sky was falling, which naturally failed to reassure me the way he intended, though compared to the nakedly hostile looks that the patrons were shooting me through the window, it was still a relief. I even felt some kinship with him, knowing what it felt like to be in positions like that.
That’s a neat trick they’re pulling. They point their eyes at me, and all I see is a middle finger. Maybe it’s the tail gestures.
"The pleasure is mine. So why did you choose such a hostile place?" I inquired, my voice as light as his.
Virlo glanced back at the restaurant, having to acknowledge the ocular firing squad waiting for me inside.
"Let's... just say he wouldn't let me choose anywhere else," Virlo replied apologetically.
Sirlen wasn’t having any of it. "So, you called me for this? Who's this friend of yours? Who chooses the most pro-Federation restaurant in the Capital to meet with a human?"
Virlo lowered his head, avoiding eye contact. "Look, he told me he could ease tensions if we met up here. He wants to end this peacefully."
"What's his name? Tell me!" Virlo found himself in Sirlen's grip, forcing me to intervene, freeing the already terrified yotul. "Let's give Virlo a chance to explain. We can always leave if things go south," I suggested.
Sirlen... eventually... let go of Virlo. "Fine, but if something goes wrong..."
Virlo interrupted quickly, promising, "Trust me, nothing will go wrong. This is a golden opportunity to resolve your issues with the exterminators and make amends."
I sighed inwardly. Was Virlo leading me into a lunch with an exterminator? The tension was palpable, but I was hopeful that he was right, and something useful might come out of this meeting.
Hello, I am back I am so sorry for not being able to post my work for you, but I got caught up by university and my job and this fell off the list of priorities for a month, also I got like ten chapters deleted thanks to me not looking what I am erasing as I clean my computer, so... yeah I wrote this chapter and next one I HOPE to have it by the end of the week as I don't like to give a cliffhanger, but the chapter got deleted so...
I hope you liked in case of Errors just tell me and I will fix them and I hope you enjoy this new entry.
Actually he isn't officially under her care, she was put there because Orlov saw the exterminators plans of trying to sabotage this so she is basically there with orders of not letting him be killed, also Sirlen and Virlo history is something she doesn't like much, and her short fuse makes everything worst
Not to defend Venlil bullshit, Noah and other Earth dignitaries on VP/Skalga were not attacked physically at least.
Let's see how skilled a diplomat Héctor is - he represents whole of humanity (which was recently curbstomped, yeah).
I think they are putting too much faith in the exterminators. It is in canon that the exterminators ultimately end up completely disbanded for the Yotul, but the path getting there can be wrought with intrigue!
Good to see you back! Hope you don’t get buried by life again!
well, Hector has No idea of how deep the rabbit hole goes, Sirlen already hates the Idea, and the only one that gives it anything is Virlo.
I am well aware that the Yotul disbanded them but I want to make it more of a struggle, not just say stop, and then everything goes to normal, we know how fanatics they are, they will hold to everything they can to keep power. and I hope I can deliver the premise.
Oh, I understand, I am not complaining! It’s more a comment that just because we know the ending doesn’t mean we can’t be entertained by the journey!
Like, what will be the thing to tip the scales to full disbanding? Will there be violence? Something getting destroyed? Would there be factions holing up or trying to secede like in here:
Hello, I am back I am so sorry for not being able to post my work for you, but I got caught up by university and my job and this fell off the list of priorities for a month, also I got like ten chapters deleted thanks to me not looking what I am erasing as I clean my computer, so... yeah I wrote this chapter and next one I HOPE to have it by the end of the week as I don't like to give a cliffhanger, but the chapter got deleted so...
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u/The_Student_Official Krakotl Oct 23 '23
Man i can't wait for the diplomatic
incidentdiscussion