Page 29 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

Zantress rises, her dour expression matching her blunt words. "The Solari want one thing—for Kallus's mining operation to leave our moon immediately. That is all."

Kallus leans forward, a practiced smile on his face. "Surely there must be some wiggle room here, or there's no point in negotiation at all." He spreads his hands in a gesture of apparent generosity. "In exchange for allowing our mining operation to continue, Bruw Interstellar is prepared to build roads, schools,banks, prisons, power plants—all the modern infrastructure that the Solari currently lack."

I watch Quinn's back stiffen. She turns to Kallus, her voice dropping several degrees in temperature. "Mr. Bruw, I feel compelled to remind you that the Solari explicitly reject the concepts of prisons and banks. Their cultural values?—"

"And that's precisely my point," Kallus interrupts smoothly. "If they reject basic pillars of civilized society, how can we expect them to engage in rational negotiation?"

I see the trap immediately. This slick bastard is trying to paint the Solari as primitive, unreasonable. And from the way Zantress is clenching her fists, she's about to take the bait.

"Rational?" Zantress stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "You call your endless greed rational? Your mining operation has poisoned our water, killed our sacred trees, and disrupted our ceremonies with your constant drilling and blasting!"

I grind my teeth so hard I'm surprised they don't crack. This is exactly what Kallus wants—to make Zantress look unhinged while he sits there, calm and collected, the picture of reasonable business.

"Our operation follows all IEC environmental guidelines," Kallus replies, still maintaining that infuriating smile. "We've conducted multiple impact studies?—"

"Impact studies!" Zantress slams her palm on the table. "Did your impact studies predict that three of our children would develop respiratory diseases? Did they predict that our sacred pool would turn green with your chemical runoff?"

I catch Drach's eye again. Despite our history, I see something familiar in his expression—the frustration of a warrior forced to stand by while others fight with words. His cybernetic eye dims slightly, almost in acknowledgment of our shared predicament.

Quinn raises her hands. "Let's take a step back. Speaker Zantress, I understand your concerns. Mr. Bruw, the environmental impact is clearly a major issue here."

Kallus nods as if in deep thought. "Perhaps we could relocate our main processing facility to reduce noise pollution. And implement additional filtration systems for any water runoff."

"That's not enough," Zantress insists. "Your very presence violates our way of life. The Solari have lived in harmony with Jwoon X for centuries. We reject your technological solutions because they only create more problems!"

I watch helplessly as Zantress falls deeper into Kallus's trap. She's passionate, righteous—and playing right into his hands. He's making her look like an unreasonable zealot while positioning himself as the flexible businessman willing to compromise.

Quinn catches my eye briefly. I see the concern there, the recognition of what's happening. She turns back to the table, her voice calm but firm.

"I think we've established the starting positions clearly enough. Let's take a short recess before diving into specific proposals."

As the others rise and move toward the refreshment tables, Quinn steps close to me.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," she whispers.

I lean down, my voice for her ears only. "Kallus is playing her like a harp. And she's letting him."

CHAPTER 13

QUINN

Ipush through the glass doors onto the rooftop terrace, desperate for fresh air. The negotiations have left me with a throbbing headache and a sour taste in my mouth. I tug at the high collar of my IEC uniform, finally popping it open and letting the cool evening breeze hit my skin.

Christmasville sprawls before me, a glittering tapestry of lights and motion. From this height, the city seems peaceful, orderly—everything our negotiations aren't. I grip the railing, my knuckles turning white.

Heavy footsteps approach from behind, but I don't turn. I know it's Var. His presence has become unmistakable to me, like recognizing a familiar scent or sound without having to look.

He settles beside me at the railing, his massive frame dwarfing mine. For a moment, we stand in silence, watching the city lights twinkle against the darkening sky.

"Your task is a difficult one," Var says finally, his voice surprisingly gentle.

I let out a humorless laugh. "That's putting it mildly." I run my fingers through my hair, loosening it from its tight diplomatic bun. "Kallus has connections everywhere—the Alliance Council, IEC Trade Commission, even Space FleetCommand. He's broken at least six interplanetary mining regulations, but I've been ordered to find a 'mutually amicable solution.'" I make air quotes with my fingers, not bothering to hide my disgust.

"And Zantress isn't making it any easier," I continue. "She won't accept anything less than complete removal of the mining operation from Jwoon X. No compromise, no middle ground."

Var shifts his weight, his scales catching the city lights. "Kallus is the clear villain here. He set up operations without proper notification, his security killed three Solari, and now he's trying to manipulate the negotiations to his advantage."

"You're not wrong." I turn to face him. "But this isn't just about right and wrong anymore. The Alliance is using this incident to punish Zantress—and by extension, the entire Ataxian Coalition."

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