A Catian's Dream Ch. 03

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your request, Jon."

Jon frowned at the ambassador's words. Zanari sat in the chair across from him like an unbowed statue: all sharp angles and intractable stiffness. She had her hands folded together in her lap, her multihued outfit glimmering in the light as she watched him with a sharp, contemplative gaze.

"I wish you would reconsider." Jon responded in a cultivated tone; he could not let on how annoyed her refusal was making him. "The NAA would greatly appreciate the help. And it's not like you haven't already gone below board for us with regards to... other matters."

Zanari's eyebrow rose. "Pardon my frankness Mister Ambassador, but don't get pedantic. This is not the same thing as asking for help in ending a global pandemic."

Jon shrugged, "Why not? It's the same threat in many ways: an unknown entity from the cosmos, entering our sovereign territory unlawfully-"

"You're really going to compare a plague virus to a hypothetical planetary invasion?"

"It's not a hypothetical." Jon countered, "You yourself told me about these 'Loupians' and their aggressive tendencies. You're up to how many wars are with them, now? Five? Six? How is Humanity supposed to protect itself if these same aliens show up on Earth?"

"You conflate your government with the whole of humanity." Zanari said, not giving ground. "You're not asking us to arm your species, you're asking us to arm your faction. That is a world of difference."

"I can't speak for the PAC or the EU." Jon said folding his hands together on his desk. "If I was, I would ask on their behalf as well. You've been open with us in the past, Zanari why not with this?"

"My people have paid the price in the past for such openness, Jon." Zanari said, "The Loupians landed on our planet long ago, seeking the kind of cooperation you're suggesting. It led to a millennia of servitude."

"-And now we are seeking your help, hoping to avert that same catastrophe." Jon said. "We aren't a Galaxy-spanning Empire. Hell, we aren't even a unified planet. If the Loupians come knocking on our proverbial door, don't you think answering with strength is the best way to deter a future attack?"

"The Loupians, like the rest of the Galaxy, are unaware of your species' existence." Zanari shot back, her voice growing testy. "You're asking me to give you advanced weaponry on the premise that they will suddenly decide to send a battlefleet into an area of space that - as far as they know - is filled with empty stars and uninhabited planetoids?"

"It's for defensive purposes." Jon replied.

Zanari shook her head. "Come on Jon, don't dance around the subject. Defending from who?"

Jon held his hands up, "You know the NAA doesn't mean the Catian Government any harm. We are trying to adapt to the new paradigm of intergalactic relations, and you know as well as I do that having a Military capable of defending itself on equal footing is a part of those calculations. What possible reason could we have to turn against you?"

"You don't have to use these weapons on Catian ships to harm us, Jon." Zanari said, shifting position on the chair. She moved with a graceful, catlike sway, her thin purple tail curling behind her as she took an assertive position. "We may not have known Humanity for very long, but we aren't stupid."

"I never accused you of such." Jon said, smiling.

Zanari didn't take the supportive bait. "Your people are emerging from decades of protracted internecine conflicts. Despite the great strides you have made in mending relations, you remain a divided species. As we speak there are no less than three separate Catian Ambassadors having conversations with their human counterparts simultaneously. Do you think that's normal for intergalactic relations?"

Jon frowned, rubbing at the back of his ear in discomfort. "Of course Humans are not united entirely in purpose, but-"

"You are doing an admirable job of squirming around the truth." Zanari said. "I've read my mother's reports from the Sachmis; I studied your history. The Humanity of today - for all its admirable strides in the direction of peace - is still only few diplomatic incidents shy of a global catastrophe, the likes of which could doom you before you ever reach the stars. The Catian Republic's arrival on Earth was fortuitous, for more reasons than just the Plague."

Jon sat back in his seat and folded his arms together. "We're not looking to use this technology in an offensive manner."

"They are weapons of war." Zanari countered, "Regardless of the intent, that is their use. The kind of weaponry you're asking for - even for smaller craft - is capable of inflicting unimaginable destruction in reckless hands."

"We aren't reckless." Jon said, "Humanity has had access to Nuclear Weapons for the better part of three centuries, and we have yet to destroy ourselves."

Zanari's eyebrow rose. "...Is that really the comparison you wish to make, Jon? I counted no less than four times in your history that Nuclear Fission and Fusion bombs were utilized in an offensive manner against your fellow man." She counted them out on her fingers, "Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Kiev Incident, Honolulu..."

"In a limited capacity." Jon countered, shaking his finger at her as if to chide her. "It has never led to a full Nuclear Scenario."

"And what happens then, Jon, if the Catian Republic grants you this request?" Zanari said, her tone growing heated. "I'll tell you: the NAA's scientists will reverse engineer our advanced starship weaponry within a year. Neither the PAC nor the EU will have the means to counter your craft, armed with such technology. The balance of power that maintains the current status quo on Earth will be disrupted, and the delicate peace your people have fought for millenia to achieve as a species will be gone."

Jon let out a frustrated sigh, "Zanari, we have worked together now for the better part of seven months. The NAA Security Council is offering to allow Catian military observers to be physically present to monitor our R&D teams during testing. If what I am holding out in front of you is a crooked deal, do you really think I'd be offering these kinds of terms?"

"No." Zanari said. "But promises made on Catia can easily be ignored or circumvented once the technology is safely sequestered on Earth."

Out of options and exasperated to the point of irritation, Jon resorted to his final gambit. "...Don't you trust me?"

Zanari stopped. Her purple eyes narrowed. Jon saw the dilation of her slitted pupils as she considered what he said. To her credit, she kept her poker face well.

"Of course I trust you, Jon. But you aren't the NAA, anymore than I am the Catian Republic as a whole. What we promise to each other, here in this room, is not the same as what happens once your government has everything it needs to start a Third World War on your planet."

"It won't come to that." Jon promised.

"I know." Zanari said, nodding. "Because the Catian Republic cannot provide you with the arms that you seek at this time. I'm sorry, Jon."

Jon covered his mouth to hide his frown, doing his level best to avoid scowling in the presence of his Catian counterpart. It was a heavy setback, but not an unsalvageable one. He sat forward in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded the Catian Ambassador from behind the bulwark of his cultivated expression.

"...I see." He said, letting out a soft sigh. "Well then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss this evening. Will that be all then, Madame Ambassador?"

Zanari nodded, lifting her chin as if to tell him she was resolved to their disagreement. "That will be all, Mister Ambassador."

The two stared at one another, recognizing that the business of the day had mutually concluded. Zanari's eyes softened, her body relaxing back into her chair as she adopted a more casual, playful tone in the aftermath of the tense exchange.

"...You're fun when you get feisty." She said, flashing him a warm smile.

Jon let out a snort. "-And you're a pain to argue with when you get obstinate."

"Come now, Jon." Zanari said, turning her head to one side, her eyebrow dancing dangerously atop her head. "Would you have it any other way?"

Jon tried to keep a cool demeanor, but found himself smiling despite himself. "I suppose not. Keeps me on my toes, at the very least."

The Catian stood in a single, smooth motion off the ground, offering him her arm as Jon circled around the table. "Will you walk with me to dinner, Jon?"

"As you will, Madame." Jon replied, bowing graciously. Zanari let out a sultry giggle. He took her by the arm, and together the two began a casual stroll towards the dining room.

It had been several weeks now since Jon had made love to Felicia in those first, hectic days of their budding romance. Recent events had seen the two torn away from one another, as Jon had gotten more and more engrossed in his work, and Felicia returned to her Pryde-mate's communal bed in the absence of her lover. The two snuck time with one another in whatever hours they could find.

More than once Jon had found himself wandering into the hangar where she worked, watching from afar as the industrious creature worked on his private shuttle. Multiple trips into space to the Embassy on Taishei Station a month necessitated a near-constant maintenance schedule, and Felicia was kept well and truly busy during the day.

They were still wild for one another, but Jon knew his duties well enough to never let their joy interfere with his work. The on-planet Embassy was progressing at a rapid rate, and much of his waking hours were spent forwarding messages and requests from the NAA Security Council to Zanari and the Catian Embassy, often to his own chagrin.

"...I told the Council that it was too early to ask the Catian government about military hardware." He admitted as Zanari led him through the long hallway of the mansion's second story.

The dying rays of Catia's first sun were setting on the horizon even as the second, blue sun was descending from its zenith. The light filtered through the tall picture windows to their right, casting the walls to their left in confusing neon colorations of orange, red and blue.

Zanari turned to look at him, her purple eyes dyed blue by the sun's colors. "At least you made the attempt. And quite convincingly, if I do say so myself."

Jon chuckled, feeling the slight squeeze of Zanari's arm around his own as they came to the stairs. "Not convincingly enough, it would seem."

"Had I any say in the matter, I might well have acquiesced." Zanari said, descending the stairs with a ballerina's dainty footsteps. "The Kindhi herself instructed us to flatly reject any and all attempts by Humanity - regardless of faction - to acquire military-grade weaponry of any kind."

"I figured as much." Jon said, letting out a sigh. "What would it take for her to change her mind?"

"A direct majority vote in the Senate." Zanari said, "Her term does not end for another seven years, and she remains firmly against military cooperation between our two species. To her, your people are a protectorate, nothing more."

"The perils of the Executive Branch." Jon said, smiling.

Jon felt the Catian's eyes on him as he stubbornly looked ahead past the landing to the front of the mansion. "To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't asked me about this sooner. Rumor has it that the PAC brings up the possibility of weapon purchases to Ambassador Leyani daily."

"I did my best to delay the issue." Jon said, "The Talassian Plague was a more pressing concern, and quite frankly one look at the Catians and your ambivalence towards your own military told me we were barking up the wrong tree."

There was a pause as Zanari chewed on his words. "...What does 'Barking up the wrong tree' mean?"

Jon smiled. "I guess the translators haven't worked out all the bugs, huh? It's an idiom in my language. Basically, it means that we were pursuing a mistaken course of action by trying to pressure you into giving us the weapons. A cursory glance at your history and culture would tell me you're opposed to it on principle."

"Well, at least you admit to your mistake." Zanari said, a teasing tone entering her voice.

Jon smirked as they crossed the threshold and entered the sweeping dining room of the mansion, letting go of Zanari's arm as they arrived amongst her Pryde in the midst of dinner. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Madame Ambassador."

They broke contact at the head of the table, Zanari circling to the front of the table as Jon took his seat at the opposite side. Sereana was already sitting, quietly sipping at a glass of water to Jon's left. Her red eyes held steady to his as she lowered the glass, giving a small nod of acknowledgement.

"You look good this evening, Jon." She said in her quiet voice.

"Oh... thank you, Sereana." Jon said, glancing down at his ironed tuxedo. Truth be told, he hated the formal outfit, but he was going out tonight, and Zanari had told him to dress sharp.

"What's the occasion?" Sirri asked. The girl was guileless when it came to her blunt delivery, but she meant no offense.

"I'm actually headed to an event, at the request of Ambassador Zanari." Jon said, puffing out his chest. If Sereana was impressed by the gesture, she didn't show it.

"What event?"

"The Yalnoi Festival." Jon answered. Sereana's eyes widened. She glanced in the direction of Zanari, who gave a cool nod.

"I convinced the Priestess to allow him to attend... with a Catian escort, of course."

"You should be very honored, Jon." Sereana said, hiding her eyes behind her long locks of black hair.

"I suppose I am." Jon joked, gesturing towards his outfit with a flourish. "As you can well see."

The doors to the kitchen opened behind Zanari with a theatrical bang. Jon looked up in time to see Rikka, the fourth member of Zanari's Pryde, emerge carrying a large tray of food in her small hands.

"Dinner. Is. Ready!" She bellowed in her bombastic fashion.

Rikka was the least visually symmetrical of her fellow Pryde members. Where her siblings were lean and thin, she was full figured and voluptuous.

Extremely complicated hairstyle

Lot of hair, (difficult to deal with/unwieldy)

Chocolate Brown hair color

They all give her shit for taking too long in bathroom working on it

Not "conventionally pretty" by Catian standards, but Jon finds her immensely attractive

She tended to eschew the more colorful makeup of her siblings, keeping her features plain by Catian standards. The only vanity she allowed herself was her hairdo: her chocolate brown hair was done up in an intricate beehive of knots and braiding, creating a visually dazzling effect on the eyes. Her thick brown tail hung behind her like a coiled rope. For a Catian she was plump, but for a human she was merely buxom. The disparity in figure was heightened by her short stature, coming up to only about halfway up Jon's chest. If she whispered to him he'd have to bend down to hear her.

...It was thus exceedingly fortunate that she never whispered. The Catian always spoke in a high soprano, her feminine voice carrying well beyond the bounds of her fellows when she projected. The result was that she often overwhelmed a room when she entered: supplementing her small size with her larger-than-life voice.

The squat Catian swept into the room with a motherly quickstep, carrying the large, covered platter into the center of the table before lifting the silver cloche cover like a magician revealing her grand illusion. Steam billowed forth from the release of heat. Rikka flourished her hands around the platter to add to the effect. "A stack of raw Arngoren Steak for the Pryde, and as a special treat to our guest..."

She held a finger up as if to to maintain the enchantment, then hurried back to the kitchen. Zanari giggled at her Pryde-mate's unrestrained enthusiasm. Jon shared a look with her, and she quirked an eyebrow. Let her have her fun.

"-And as a special treat to our guest," Rikka shouted again from the kitchen, hustling into the room with a second, smaller platter in her hands. "A human dish, though I'll admit to fudging a few of the finer details."

She laid the plate in front of Jon, who was astonished to see what looked an awful lot like breaded chicken sitting on his plate, garnished with a broccoli-looking plant that was purple at the stem and blue in the flower. There was an unspecified white sauce drizzled on top of it all.

"Goodness, Rikka, you've outdone yourself." Jon marveled. Rikka smiled, her warm blue eyes filling with pride.

"Mister Ambassador." Rikka chided him, "While I will gratefully accept your fawning praise in almost any other hobby I might fruitlessly pursue, I will not suffer such false compliments in my kitchen. Don't try to sweet talk my cooking before I've earned the accolade!" Rikka's lips spread wide across her round cheeks. She spoke in a rapid, excited fashion, her voice more girlish and high pitched than one might expect from someone as well spoken as she was. "Consume first, then criticize."

"How could I have made such an amateur mistake?" Jon replied in a magnanimous tone. He took his napkin in hand and stuffed the corner in his shirt collar, adding to the posh effect. "Of course I shall sample the meal first, madame. How careless of me."

Rikka bobbed her head up and down in rigorous fashion. "Better."

"Where have the two strays gone off to?" Zanari asked. She sounded like a scolding elder sister when she spoke. "It's not like Fel to miss a meal."

"Nor Beimei, for that matter." Muttered Serena as she reached out with her long nails to pick slices of raw steak from the platter onto her plate.

Rikka let out a contemptuous snort. "For how often I've kept their food warm and bloody, they can starve for all I care, sisters. As the saying goes: Catians who miss meals miss the family feel." Jon stifled a chuckle at the bad pun. Rikka's motherly gaze turned to him. "What are you waiting for, Jon? Eat! Eat! You're the guest of honor, not the youngest Kitt in the Clan."

Rikka fussed with his food, waving her hand in the air over the top of it to clear the heat. Jon raised an eyebrow. "Common courtesy in Human households is to wait for everyone to come to the table before we eat together."

"You'll keep waiting till the Jungle reclaims this mansion, Jon." Rikka fired back, "Beimei and Felicia have many positive qualities, but punctuality and consideration are not a part of their repertoire."

"Sister," Zanari called out from across the table, "Perhaps our guest would appreciate some human utensils to go with his meal?"

Rikka slapped a hand over her forehead. "By Bergoyai's Ghost, I totally forgot!" She let out a huff and hurried to the kitchen. "Just a moment, Mister Ambassador, we shall rectify this grave mistake of mine, and then you can get back to insulting my sad excuse for a meal!"

Jon laughed as Rikka scurried back into the kitchen, humming a low Catian tune on her tongue as she passed beyond the doorframe. As if on cue, another of her missing pryde-sisters appeared from the front hall.

"Hey Jon."

Jon's heart leapt up into his chest when he heard Felicia's voice. His redheaded flame strutted with a Catian's careless confidence into the room. She was dressed to kill, wearing a scandalously revealing outfit that on Earth might have signified her as a Lady of the Evening.

Both her sheer mesh top and pleated miniskirt were coated with a metallic gold sheen. The material looked like it belonged more as the casing of some starship's hull than covering a Catian's barely-concealed decency. She wore high heels, bearing a small satchel in her hands that looked quite similar to a purse, but lacked the necessary shoulder strap.