Hours passed as George and Birch negotiated, seated at a table she had grown for the specific purpose.

“What do you mean ‘provisional’ citizenship, Lady Birch?”

“We cannot promise full and lasting entry into the empire as an auxiliary society without first meeting the very emperor we would be swearing our allegiance to, can we, Mr. Stefanopolous?”

“Well, if you put it that way... no, that’s an unreasonable request.” George pondered for a moment, then continued, “Very well, I can accept that in our tentative agreement.”

“How will you meet the emperor?” Ayaka asked. She agreed that the meeting would be of pivotal importance to both societies, but the logistics of facilitating such a meeting would be an absolute nightmare. Even at their ships’ fastest speed, it would require the emperor of humanity to be absent from Earth for a full year. And that didn’t take into account the length of time he would need to spend on Proxima Centauri b.

“We have no idea,” Birch answered. “But until we personally meet him, we won’t allow our children to potentially die in your conflicts.”

“And what criteria will you judge him on?”

“Whether or not he is worthy of our sacrifices.”

Ayaka considered that for a while. But since the criteria was so broad, she could do nothing about it so she didn’t waste much time thinking about it and switched topics. “Would you permit us to reestablish our research facility on the surface?” she asked. Last time hadn’t gone exactly smoothly, between the mana-infused storm and the dangers posed by the trees’ roots. So it would be a good idea, she thought, if she asked for permission up front rather than seeking forgiveness later.

As if she could read minds, Birch smiled and said, “Don’t worry. Nothing will harm you if you choose to rebuild your base here. Last time it was a reflex, like swatting away a buzzing fly. This time, as long as you don’t willingly harm the planet, you’re welcome to our world.”

Ayaka returned the smile. “Thank you, Lady Birch. And I have to ask—humankind has a virtual recreation of reality that we access through our conscious minds. Do you have a brain structure that would allow you to join us there?”

“That would take a larger device than I think you have,” Birch laughed. “Our neural network is distributed throughout the entire planet, so unless you have a planet-sized... what did Joon-ho call it? A VR pod?” She fell silent in contemplation for a brief moment, then continued, “Anyway, unless you have hardware that would fit our bulk in, I’m afraid the answer is no.”

Ayaka and Birch traded questions back and forth for more than three hours before the conversation came to a satisfying conclusion and the two agreed to meet again after the thorny problem of raising the first generation of Proximans was well on its way to completion.

“I’m always available and will be keeping close watch on my children from afar,” Birch said as she stood and extended her hand to Ayaka for a handshake.

Ayaka shook her hand and watched as the elven woman with the bark skin and mossy hair turned back into a towering birch tree. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “Time to get to work.” There was much to be done and not a lot of time in which to do it.

She slowly spun around, taking a good look at her surroundings. ‘Only Joon-ho,’ she thought, shaking her head with a wry smile. ‘Only the Terrible Teenager could come up with such a mish-mash of history and Earth mythology.... Giants, really?’ She suppressed a giggle, then schooled her face back into its normal neutrally pleasant expression.

Although she was about to begin an enormous time- and resource-intense task, she felt nothing but excitement deep down. While, technically speaking, Joon-ho was the one who had established first contact with the Proximan treefolk, she would be the one credited with opening a diplomatic communication channel. It was something that would have been almost impossible to even begin contemplating, had she remained in her previous position.

But thanks to the Terrible Teenager, her little brother in all but ancestry, she had ended up receiving that exact impossible opportunity. And she wasn’t about to fuck it up.

Ordering Joon-ho to remain on the surface with a fire team of marines to act as “embassy guards”, Ayaka took the rest of the diplomatic mission and marines back to the Proxima to wait for Research Base New New South Wales to be rebuilt.

As for Joon-ho, he was to remain dirtside to act as the liaison between the Proximan treefolk and the humans, who had already begun construction of an artificial moon that would house the quantum superclusters they would need to maintain high VR time dilation without virtually crippling their entire fleet every time the need arose. A second lander that had undergone refit to act as temporary housing for Joon-ho and his security team had already been dispatched from the Proxima, and the two landers passed each other as they headed for their destinations. One of them was crowded with GEMbots and constructor swarm queens, while the other was packed with diplomats and marines.

Aboard the outbound lander, which Ayaka had ordered to take a normal approach to the Proxima, the woman in question was busy finalizing a plan that would enable the Terran Empire to absorb ten billion aliens as provisional citizens. She had discovered a love for the job of xenodiplomacy and planned to exploit her current circumstances in order to provide the maximum benefits possible to the empire.

Not for a single second did she consider using the Proximans as the basis of a second star empire. She didn’t even consider forging them into a country, or returning to Earth for a hostile takeover and supplantation of the current ruler. She knew deep down that the moment anyone attempted such a thing, they would be hammered by the fist of a god and cremated by a rage that burned hotter than the fiery cores of ten thousand suns.

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