This story goes quite sideways. As many of you know, I tend to take the world and the twist the story. Sometimes with great success, sometimes, not so much. This is not a comedy, nor a romance. It is a dark alternate universe where the light slips in between the cracks, rather than blinding everyone in its path.

Connor walked with confidence down the hallway, escorted by two guards. He moved much slower than his escort desired, pausing to look at the trophies placed strategically, mounted on the walls or displayed in curio cabinets or on occasional tables. Occasionally, he paused as if studying a particularly gruesome item or read one of the signs designed to intimidate the unwary. The two guards, indistinguishable in their helmets and body armor, exchanged obvious signs of impatience and eyerolling at Connor's pace. Inwardly, the diplomat smiled. He knew the power of setting the stage and taking control of negotiations from the beginning. Word would have already spread to the throne room, that he showed neither fear nor arrogance nor impatience to arrive.

After twenty minutes of dilly-dallying, Conner turned and with purposeful strides walked into the throne room, leaving the guards rushing to catch up so he entered the room, not as a penitent, but as an equal. The room quieted as he boldly walked up to the throne, bowing shallowly to its occupant and giving a nod of greeting to the gruesome figure standing to the right of the throne. He fell back into a relaxed waiting pose, not allowing his eyes to break contact with the figure in the throne. A sardonic lift to the right side of his mouth, and a slightly raised eyebrow told the ruler he found these little games silly, but would willingly play them to give the right impressions to the rest of the court.

The king returned the look with one of his own before raising his scepter and pointing it directly at Connor. "Speak."

Sifting through several responses, Connor decided on the riskier venture. "Should I a dog be, verily wouldst I bark at the command so uttered in a voice demanding obedience. Or should I a courier wishing favor, would I fawn and praise your majesty in words dripping with obsequiousness. Perhaps a prisoner or a sycophant wouldst beg prettily or wretchedly for pity or mercy not forthcoming. Alas, none of those be I, therefore a different response should I give. A moment of thought, then, and shall I compose a reasonable response." He lifted his hand to his chin in an exaggerated pose of thought, hiding the trembling in his hand at his gamble. If wrong, he would die before he could present the proposal, dooming his planet and people. His heart pounded at the excitement and the uncertainty.

Only a moment passed before a bark of laughter greeted his audaciousness, with a cackle from the standing figure echoing a moment later. "Bold words, indeed. Too often do our lesser prattle onward and waste our time with lies and deceptions. We are pleased with this. Tell me then, of your mission."

Inwardly, Connor felt the rush of endorphins that his gamble had paid off. He nodded with a small smile and then took a breath before opening his arms and giving a second lower bow. "Greetings do I bring from Arus. Salutations from their royal majesties Queen Allura Arienda and King Keith Kogane. They bid me approach and deliver from them a proposal for your considerations."

Gasps greeted his pronouncement and a buzz quickly spread around the court. Connor returned to his relaxes stance as he waited for the reaction to his announcement. Nothing could match the rush he felt when standing before a ruler who held the power of life and death. He watched the hooded figure next to the throne study him intently. Go ahead witch, study all you like. You will not find what you need in me. He found himself having to suppress a laugh at the frustration in her eyes. After several minutes, she crooked one finger at the figure in the throne, who leaned over to listen to her whispered words while his eyes scanned the court as the buzz grew over Connor's announcement.

The king nodded and then stood. The throne room immediately quieted. "We will confer with the diplomat in private." He turned and walked to a door hidden behind the throne without further addressing Connor or the court.

A woman dressed in livery diffidently approached Connor after the King and his advisor's departure. "Sir Diplomat, if you would be so kind as to follow?"

Nodding, Connor walked with deceptive casualness behind his guide as they walked through the intrigue filled court. The members of the court openly studied and speculated as to the benefits of approaching him or the disaster he could bring. He would stake his reputation that the bets quickly flowing as to his reason for coming would never come close. The guide led him the most direct path that avoided most of the nobles vying for his attention to a smaller door guarded by two very large soldiers. Leaving him at the door the aide offered a small smile, "Though the door good sir. Remember to find the balance between respect and audaciousness, his majesty likes those who are bold, but will severely punish those he deems disrespectful. Good luck, sir." With a small bow, the aide turned and walked away. Connor debated whether to put a cat in the hen house, but let the aide leave without a further word. He walked through the door, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming meeting. It would prove most delicious.

"Any word?"

"Patience. It takes several months to travel to Doom, and longer to avoid the patrols. Have faith in Connor. We have prepared for this for nearly a year. Now, we wait."

"I hate waiting."

"I've noticed," came the sardonic reply.

Fingers tapped impatiently for a few minutes while the other sat and read reports. Finally, the fingers stopped and the figure rose and put a hand between the other's face and the reader. "Maybe," came the sultry invitation, "you can distract me for a while."

The reader dropped with a clang on the table and the man pulled the woman into his lap. "That can be arranged." He plunged his hands into her hair and fastened his mouth to hers. The two passed a very pleasant afternoon.

The young man spun around in the chair. "Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored."

"Knock it off. Some of us are working."

"Working shmurking. I am bored."

"Well, go be bored somewhere else. Bug him and her."

"No bloody way. Last time I interrupted, I had my ass handed to me and then found myself stuck with the junior class. I am not that desperate for entertainment!"

"Hey, you should have known better. He has trained her for the last several years. If she kicked your ass, I assume he sat and watched."

"And laughed until he nearly fell off the bench. Yeah, yeah. Which is why I am not going to interrupt him and her again."

"So go find someone else to bother. Some of us actually work, you know."

"Maybe I can go find a maid to bother."

"Good idea, just scram."

"Because I said so."

"But I do not need. . ."

"Yes you do. I will not have it said I do not dress you appropriately. You have grown several inches and your ankles are showing. Suck it up, and stand still."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And another thing, we need to have a talk about the rules and regulations about my staff."

"But. . ."

"But me no buts. You have developed quite a reputation amongst my girls and it disrupts their working."

"I did not mean. . ."

"Of course you did not mean. Does not mean it does not happen. You will come to my rooms after dinner and we will talk about deportment. Now, go change without disturbing my markings or pins."

"Yes, ma'am."

Connor found himself in a room without guards and only the King and his closest advisor in attendance. A seat at the end of the table waited for him. Sliding into the chair he looked at the king, "Trusting to let me sit here without anyone guarding your back. How do you know I have not rigged myself with a bio-bomb or some other improbable device of destruction?

The advisor cackled and spoke from inside her brown hood. "You passed many scanners on the way to the throne room from the mundane to the magical. You could not have advanced this far without triggering an alarm before you arrived."

Connor nodded, "Good to know."

The King taped his long, clawed finger on the table, "Now that you have set our court buzzing, and most likely our son on a rampage, tell us of this news and why you come. It seems a bold thing for to do, and most out of character."

"There has been a shift in politics on Arus, your majesty. I can tell you their majesties have worked with many people for many months to bring this proposal to you. They feel this conflict between these planets has stalemated for far too long. Too many resources that could go elsewhere end up designated to combat the attack forces you send against the planet. In a game of attrition, there is no winner. You spend more time and effort into building forces than we spend destroying them. Often we can scavenge the losses to make up for some of the resources lost, except for the personnel. As you know, Garrison does supply us with some ground personnel and we continue to train our people, but it comes down to the farmers and the craftsmen, and the manufacturers. We cannot continue to replace those people and the King and Queen are unwilling to let the children do more than they already do."

"Why would you share this intelligence with us?"

Connor allowed himself a depreciative smile, "Come now, your majesty, this information is nothing surprising nor anything your spies have already told you. I do not give any secrets away, merely setting the stage for the play."

"A play?"

"It that not what all negotiates ultimately are? A play where we carefully step and say our lines, except the ending has not yet been written."

The king did not respond, but continued rhythmically tapping his finger.

Connor folded his hands in front of him on the table and returned the king's unblinking stare.

"You show no fear. We cannot sense any duplicity nor smell any of the normal human funk that gives us information. Why?"

The diplomat showed no surprise in the sudden change of subject. He deliberately took his time answering, making a show of considering carefully his answer. "Because I have nothing to fear."

"You come with no escort, no way of help reaching you. We could easily take you prisoner, torture you, and kill you. No one would ever know."

"Yes. You could."

"Why should we not?"

Connor leaned over his hands. "Curiosity."

The king roared in laughter. "We like you. You appeal to our sense of humor. Come, then. Before we talk further, let us test your mettle." He rose and gestured Connor to follow him. "Witch, make all ready."

"As you command, your majesty." The hooded figure walked out a side door, while the King walked out a second that led to a hallway empty of people but holding more trophies.

As they walked down the hallway, the King began telling Connor of various conquests and describing how he acquired each of the various trophies. As he listened, Connor found the pattern of the trophies. The ones on public display demonstrated the power of the planet; of the army. The ones here came from battles the King had personally fought. A preserved hand with a signet ring from the Planet Kraal, where the King had dispatched the ruler of the planet in single combat over fifty years earlier. A doll he had taken from the Princess of Narba while she slept in her crib, to demonstrate to her father the uselessness of battling the inevitable. The planet had continued to resist, until in one night, he and his soldiers had left calling cards in the beds and cribs of hundreds of children in different parts of the planet. The surrender had come the next day.

Connor continued to listen to the stories, his mind absorbing and evaluating what the king said as well as what he did not. The more he listened, the better he understood and could manipulate the king to his own desires. It would result in the most delicious sensation when he won.

The pilots ran to the launch room as the alarms blared. Their leader looked at the incoming bogies and nodded to himself. He headed to the launch tubed as he began giving instructions to the ground crews. "Execute plan Delta. Secondary flight staff to the ready room. Primary is a go. Tertiary is a go. Launch in 90 seconds. Confirm."

"Ground crew, execute plan Delta. 90 seconds to launch. Confirmed."

"Secondary flight to ready room. Confirmed."

"Primary is a go. Loading now. Launch in 90 seconds. Confirmed."

"Tertiary is a go. Primed to load. Primary launch in 90 seconds. Tertiary launch in 1.30. Confirmed."

"Execute. Leader 1 out. Command team launch is a go. Command team, silent and deadly."

In less than 90 seconds, the five command ships and the first wave of fighters launched into the air. Per the instruction, no one opened communications to the enemy fleet nor answered any hails from the enemy fleet. Their commander tried to break into the frequency used by the defenders, but the technical team blocked the attempts.

The ground crews began launching drones, targeting the command ships. The enemy shot down most of the drones before they reached their target, but enough made it through the defenses to start wreaking havoc on enemy communications. Spoofing drones changed the commands sent out to the robot fighters. Some of the fighters fired on their own ships, others changed coursed and headed out into space or headed toward the command ships.

The commander watched as their own fighters took hits. He saw parachutes opening in various parts of the battle field, and sent a prayer up that the pilots would land in relative safety. The command team did their best to protect those ejected warriors, while coordinating their own portion of the defense. The pilots did not always have a chance to eject before the destruction of their fighter, but the time for mourning would come later.

The number of enemy ships began to decrease, and the ground crew began targeting the fighter ships, trying to cripple or destroy their ability to continue to launch ships. With their more powerful fighters, the command crew switched from protection of downed pilots to actively moving against the larger freighters and battleships. They managed to destroy two of the capital ships within five minutes. As they began to attack a third, a small pod ejected from one of the support ships. Immediately, the crew monitoring for just such an occurrence sent out the alert. Just as a beam from the support ship enveloped the pod, a missile hit the beam cutting it off, and a series of missiles began to hit the pod one after another. In moments, the pod disintegrated into dust and the remaining missiles passed through the empty space to hit the support ship.

As if the destruction of the pod sent a signal, the enemy fleet began to retreat.

The defenders did not cease their attacks, but continued to harry the enemy. Three of the ships started to lag as repeated hits from missiles destroyed their propulsion systems. Smoke plumed from over a dozen ships. The three lagging ships sent surrender messages and began to power down their weapons systems. As they did, two of the retreating capital ships redirected their covering fire to the ships, destroying them rather than allowing a surrender. As the ships began to fall, escape pods started ejecting. The retreating ships continued to fire on the escape pods, and the defenders scrambled to protect the escape pods and to redirect the faltering ships away from inhabited lands.

The enemy used the destruction of their own ships to cover their retreat. The ships limped away from the planet as fast as their engines allowed.

The commander of the defenders looked around at the destruction of his planet and closed his eyes for a moment. It meant more lists of dead. More lists of crops destroyed. More resources wasted on a war not of their making. With an inward sigh, he returned to base to begin another round of rebuilding lives, scrounging scrap from the wreckage of the downed ships, replanting crops, and figuring out what to do with the latest batch of enemy combatants. He could only hope and pray their plan would work and bring an end to all of this.