Chapter 14

“Commander!” Sovereign Luxtetana exclaimed as Kipexo and Ethan entered the communications hub on the ninth day. “Commander, we have done it. The Veil has stopped the bleeding. Their forces have laid down arms temporarily.”

“A ceasefire?” Kipexo said in surprise.

“Yes. They sent a communications request just moments ago. They are asking to speak to the one who calls to his people for peace on our behalf.”

Kipexo chuckled. “They wanna talk to me, huh? I bet they’ll have more than a few choice words.”

“They can’t… do anything to you out here, can they?” Ethan asked.

“What could they possibly do? We’re well out of their reach for the moment, don’t worry.” Kipexo regarded the sovereign. “When did they ask to speak to me?”

“Within the hour.” The sovereign ushered them down the hall. “We’ve set up the recording room to take the comm.”

“Did they say who I’d be speaking to?” Kipexo asked as he and Ethan followed the sovereign. Ethan had to practically run to keep up with both the Lifreet and the Raugon’s much longer legs in their rush.

“They did not specify,” the sovereign said. “But the request came encrypted down the Veil’s official channels along with the order to Raugon troops afar to halt the bleeding and wait.”

Kipexo nodded. “Alright then.”

“Commander, I know this was not part of our agreement, but—”

“I agreed to do what I can, and our ship isn’t done being repaired yet. So set up the comm.”

The sovereign bowed his head. “You have my gratitude. Do you object to my attendance during this communication?”

“This is your negotiation; I’m just the messenger. You should be there.”

The sovereign paused just outside the recording room’s door. “Negotiation…” he uttered. His eyes slowly fell out of focus, and a look of silent panic filled his face. “The beginning of negotiations. I refused to hope I would see such a thing.”

Kipexo narrowed his eyes. “How long, exactly, have you been the sovereign here?”

Sovereign Luxtetana looked again at Kipexo and gave him a somewhat bashful smile. “I wondered how long it would take for that question to be asked. Full honesty, Commander… I have held my place as leader of all Lifreet for no more than three Raugon solar cycles.”

Only three solar cycles?

Kipexo was speechless.

“I know your thoughts,” said the sovereign. “But I was trained to lead since birth. My father was sovereign before me. As his last born before he stopped having children, this was always to be my future. Though short my reign has been, I am confident in my decisions as head of all Lifreet.” He tipped up his chin and stared down at Kipexo, all humor gone from his face as he asked, “Tell me, does this change your decision to help me bring peace?”

Even Ethan stared up at Kipexo, waiting for his answer.

After a moment’s consideration, Kipexo said, “No, but this might affect how the Veil chooses to approach you during negotiations. If they feel they can use your limited experience as sovereign to their advantage, they will try.”

“I know, Commander. That is why I sought you out, why I asked for one who carries authority with the Raugon people and their leaders to speak for us, and why I ask you now to lead us into negotiations with your people. I may be confident, but a fool I am not to think I have your experience.”

“I’m just a soldier,” Kipexo insisted. “I have no political experience. You understand that, right?”

“I do. But I also understand you have already made change on your world. You convinced the Veil to implement the project for human safety and return to Earth… The… I forget the name.”

“Erin,” Ethan said softly. “It’s called The ERIN Project. It’s named after my sister who died on the trip to Raug.”

Kipexo put a reassuring hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

Sovereign Luxtetana studied Ethan then turned his eyes slowly back to Kipexo. “The ERIN Project,” he said with a respectful bow of his head. “You convinced Raugon leaders to help the humans, a ‘lesser’ species. A soldier you may be, but you know how to approach the members of the Veil, much better than a Lifreet could.”

Kipexo snorted. “When you put it like that…”

The sovereign opened the recording room door and ushered Kipexo and Ethan inside, shutting the door again behind them. The open space where Kipexo usually stood to record his messages now held a large, blue wood desk with a single chair behind it. A comm pad was sitting in the middle of the desk.

“The comm will have no hologram,” the sovereign explained. “We do not have a strong enough comm link with Raug for that. Voices only for now.” He started fiddling with the comm pad.

Kipexo motioned for Ethan, and the Earthling came immediately to his side. “A kiss for luck?” Kipexo asked with a smirk.

Ethan smiled and obliged. “You won’t need it,” he said softly. “You got this.”

Kipexo stole one extra kiss before letting Ethan go, who stood a short distance away, near the wall by the door.

“Are you ready, Commander?” the sovereign asked.

Kipexo nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Sovereign Luxtetana jammed one last button on the comm pad, and a whirring, static sound came across the comm for a few seconds before a muffled voice spoke, but the words sounded so far off in the distance, Kipexo couldn’t understand them. The sovereign made an adjustment on the comm pad, and the static stopped.

“This is Kipexo, Sergeant of the 3rd Veil,” Kipexo said, hoping whoever was on the other end was receiving. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Sergeant Kipexo,” said a familiar, breathless voice. “This is Elder Hifsema. Can you hear me?”

“I hear you, Elder. You asked to speak to me?”

Hifsema chuckled. “Yes, Sergeant. You’ve created quite an uproar here at home, as I’m sure you are aware.”

“I actually wasn’t aware of that at all, but I assumed as much, or we wouldn’t be speaking right now.”

“Your transmissions have done what you no doubt intended them to do. Protests have struck up across all of Raug, boycotts have ground all unnecessary business to a halt, and walk-outs have disrupted the rest. We have been flooded with comms demanding we sit down with you and discuss terms for a permanent ceasefire, and heads of affected cities across the planet are all but pleading with us to consider that demand.

“You win, Kipexo,” Hifsema said in a much less professional tone. “We’re reaching out to discuss terms for a sit-down negotiation.”

“You want to meet in person?” Kipexo asked in surprise.

“We will be sending one of our Chiefs to sit down with you and the Lifreet leaders who’ve put you up to this. We have ordered our troops to stand down until such negotiations are concluded. If any harm comes to the one we send, not only will this offer of negotiation be withdrawn, but we will never again consider another. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Elder. May I ask, who will you be sending?”

“Chief Reseila will be the one to negotiate on our behalf.”

Kipexo nodded, satisfied with this. “Understood. I give you my word she will come to no harm.”

“Have the Lifreet send exact hyperjump coordinates for Reseila’s ship. If she is approached by a Lifreet vessel after jumping, she will see this as an act of aggression and have full clearance to fire at will. She will board a shuttle and approach the Lifreet capital city, at which point they will instruct her where to land via open comms. You are expected to greet her upon arrival.”

“Me?” Kipexo said with a start. “Why do I have to be there?”

“We want you to mediate these negotiations and ensure Reseila’s safety while she’s in Lifreet territory. It was her request.”

Kipexo clenched his teeth together. If any of the other Chiefs had asked this of him, he would’ve declined. But it was Reseila, one of the few who still held his respect. Out of all the members of the Veil, she was the one they had the best chance to broker peace with. It would mean sitting through no doubt days of endless discussion, but he’d come this far already. It seemed like a waste to back out now.

“Fine,” Kipexo said with a hint of a growl. “I’ll be there.”

“During negotiations,” Hifsema continued, “Reseila will have direct communications with the rest of the Veil via her databand. If she goes silent longer than the pre-determined stretch of time we will set with her before her departure, we will consider her taken hostage by our enemies and our ceasefire will end. She has the right to terminate negotiations at any time and will be granted safe passage back to her ship. The retaliation, should Reseila not be returned to us whole and unharmed, will be swift and devastating. Do the Lifreet accept these terms?”

Kipexo looked at Sovereign Luxtetana, who nodded.

“They do,” Kipexo replied.

“Very well,” wheezed the aging Chief. “We await those coordinates. Reseila will jump tomorrow morning at dawn here at Ipsyla. I, for one, look forward to her reports.”

Kipexo grinned despite himself. “One for the history books, isn’t it Chief?”

Hifsema chuckled again. “I keep telling myself nothing could possibly surprise me anymore at my age. I don’t know why, because something else always comes along and proves me wrong. Until tomorrow, Sergeant.”

“Tomorrow then.”

Kipexo ended the comm and sat back in his chair. Ethan immediately joined him at his side. Kipexo put his arm around his Earthling with a deep sigh.

“Are we doing the right thing?” Kipexo asked in a hushed tone.

Ethan smiled. “I think so. It feels right.”

Sovereign Luxtetana leaned his hands on the desk across from Kipexo. “Commander,” he said in awe, and he shook his head. “I cannot express the depth of my gratitude for agreeing to meet with the Veil’s arbitrator. Once again you act beyond our original agreement.” He stood up straight, stared down at Ethan and Kipexo, then nodded his head once. “Yes, I have decided. There is something I wish to show you both. Come.”

Kipexo shared a perplexed look with Ethan before he got up, and they both followed the sovereign out the door. They headed the opposite way down the hall than they usually walked, across one of the long glass walkways, and into a lift that took them down to the ground floor. A couple hallways later, they came to a door they had to be let in by a guard with a keycard. They walked into a laboratory of sorts with monitors and shining equipment stationed all about the large open room. Several Lifreet stopped what they were doing and looked up as the sovereign walked in. They greeted him warmly, but he waved them back to their work as he led Kipexo and Ethan to the back of the room and through one final door into a small room with a large oval pod in the middle.

The sovereign stopped beside the pod and faced Kipexo. “Tell me, Commander, how many solar cycles have you seen?”

Kipexo furrowed his brow. Why was he asking that? After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “Two hundred and nineteen.”

“Raugon live to an average of five hundred and sixty-one Raug solar cycles. Conversion of Raug solar cycles to Earth years is 1.46, which means you have four hundred and ninety-nine Earth years left of life, perhaps more. Ethan, how many Earth years have you seen?”

“I’m twenty-two,” Ethan said.

“The average human lifespan is seventy-one. That gives the Earthling forty-nine years of life left, maybe more, maybe less.”

“What’s your point?” Kipexo said with a bit of a growl. He didn’t need to be reminded his time with Ethan was short. He reminded himself of that fact nearly every day.

The sovereign stood up a little taller. “My people know shorter lives than Raugon. I told you our numbers bleed to war, so we put much study into extending our lives. To survive this war, we needed to live longer or birth more. We sought to do both.” He lays his hand on the pod behind him. “And we succeeded. This device has the power to extend life past typical biological limits. With regular treatments, we can extend Lifreet lifespan by decades, centuries if we stay otherwise in good health.”

The sovereign locked eyes with Kipexo. “I have asked our researchers if it could extend the life of other creatures, and they tell me there is no evidence to say it cannot. Though untested on any but Lifreet bodies, this device has the potential to match human years left more equally to a Raugon’s.”

“Are you saying you could make me live longer?” Ethan asked. “As long as Kipexo?”

The sovereign bowed his head. “Though not a guarantee, the chances are very good, yes.”

“You’re talking about deep cell manipulation,” Kipexo said. “How do you have such technology?”

“We listen, we learn, we emulate, and we improve. We may live among nature, but we know science. The two often exist side by side. In this case, we convinced them to work together.” The sovereign touched a button on the side of the pod, and it popped open with a small hiss. The top half split in two and folded out life wings, revealing a soft white interior spacious enough for a Lifreet to lie comfortably on their side. “I invited you here today to experiment with our technology.”

“You expect me to let you subject my denmate to an untried medical procedure?” Kipexo huffed.

“I expect nothing, Commander. Only that you hear my offer and consider.”

“What, exactly, is your offer?”

“If our technology succeeds in giving the human more years, I plan to offer these years to you in exchange for you agreeing to meet with the Veil on behalf of the Lifreet and for your continued efforts in stopping our bleeding. If you refuse, you’re free to leave with the humans once the broken ship is repaired. I will hold no grudges. You have already done more than Raugon hearts have before. I am grateful. But I am not beyond asking for more. For my people, I ask. You are still our best chance, and I must try. For Dradaheirn and Lifreet afar.”

Ethan touched Kipexo’s arm. “I have to try the machine,” he said. “If it works—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Kipexo said, still staring at the sovereign.

“Kipexo…” Kipexo looked down at Ethan who was staring up at him with pain-filled eyes. “Tell me the truth, what do you plan to do when I inevitably die before you?”

Kipexo winced. “Ethan, please—”

“The truth,” Ethan insisted.

Kipexo sighed and hung his head. “I will perform the komitaifra and join you in whatever afterlife awaits us.”

“I thought so,” Ethan said softly. “I could tell the day you explained what the komitaifra was that you’d already decided. I understand your decision, but what if you didn’t have to make it at all? What if it works and gives us all the time we could want? I have to at least try. For us.”

Kipexo glanced briefly up at the sovereign, who watched their exchange with curious eyes. When they met Kipexo’s, he bowed his head to the Commander.

Kipexo set a hand on the top of Ethan’s head. “I won’t stop you, but if anything happens to you…”

Ethan nodded in understanding and turned to the sovereign. “Can I get in?”

The sovereign backed away and waved an arm at the pod in welcome.

Ethan left Kipexo’s side and approached the machine, and Kipexo’s stomach twisted uncomfortably when the Earthling hauled himself inside and settled amongst the tubes and wires in the center of the padding. The pod was easily three times too large for him.

“You should feel no pain,” the sovereign said. “But you will be very warm. Limbs may tingle, and the heart may beat quite fast. Breathe evenly and know we are watching your body closely. We will let nothing happen to harm you.”

“You better not,” Ethan said with a grin. “Or he’ll probably kill you.”

“There would be no ‘probably’ about it,” Kipexo grumbled.

The sovereign chuckled. “The warning has been heard but is not needed. Success or failure, we will ensure no harm.” He waved toward the door where two other Lifreet Kipexo hadn’t noticed until that moment stood watching expectantly. At his signal, they stepped into the room and pulled up displays on handheld tablets.

One touched the same button on the side of the pod, and the winged doors slowly descended. Kipexo tried to ignore the sudden uptick in his heartrate as his Earthling was sealed away inside the device.

“Here, Commander,” the sovereign said as he stood next to Kipexo with a matching tablet in his hands. He showed Kipexo a colorful hologram of a human figure, only it was skeletal. It was Ethan, Kipexo soon realized, only he could see Ethan’s bones and muscles glowing in an array of colors in the hologram. He could see the Earthling’s heart glowing bright red and beating away inside his chest, and he could see his brain, which danced with small popping white lights. There were endless numbers scrolling across the screen, but none of them made any sense to Kipexo.

The pod began to hum softly, and a moment later, it beeped. One of the Lifreet nodded to the sovereign, who turned to Kipexo.

“It’s ready,” the sovereign said. “Should we proceed?”

“Yes!” came a muffled shout from inside the pod.

All three Lifreet laughed, and even Kipexo snorted, but the sovereign looked to Ethan’s master to make the final call.

Kipexo nodded.

The sovereign signaled the other two Lifreet again, and they touched a few more buttons on the pod until it beeped then started to hum, softly at first but growing louder. A display on the pod lit up with the same hologram of Ethan’s body as the tablet held between Kipexo and Sovereign Luxtetana, and one of the Lifreet studied it intently as the humming grew louder.

Kipexo turned back to the tablet, but none of the numbers meant anything to him, so he simply watched Ethan’s hologram as the Earthling turned his head, studying the machine’s interior as the sound grew from a hum to a growl. Numbers scrolled by faster, and the colors in the hologram started shifting more to deeper reds than any other color.

“What’s happening?” Kipexo asked nervously.

“The treatment is working,” the sovereign said, his tone one of hopeful excitement. “The red indicates cell rejuvenation. Once it all turns red, he’ll be—”

A warning box popped up over the hologram, but the words were in Lifreet, so Kipexo couldn’t read them. The two Lifreet by the pod jumped immediately into action and started pressing buttons until the noise of the machine died suddenly and the pod burst open in a cloud of steam.

“Ethan?” Kipexo called as he went to the pod, waving his arm to disperse the steam so he could see the Earthling within. When it finally cleared, Ethan was lying motionless in the center of the pod. Kipexo reached for him and panicked when he touched Ethan’s arm and felt how warm it was. “What happened?” he barked as he gathered Ethan up and removed him from the device. He was drenched in sweat.

“Core temperature rose too high,” one of the other Lifreet said. “At one hundred and four degrees, we triggered emergency measures to prevent harm.”

The third Lifreet was still studying his tablet and flipping quickly through several screens. “Loss of consciousness occurred just before evacuation. No damage detected.”

Sovereign Luxtetana touched Kipexo’s shoulder. “He is fine, Commander, but the treatment was not completed. The human overheated. We will adjust and try again—”

Kipexo snarled loudly. “Experiment with your own damn lives. You won’t touch my Ethan again.”

Ethan woke with a gasp in Kipexo’s arm. He peered groggily around the room then up at Kipexo. “Wh…what happened?”

“You got too hot,” Kipexo said.

“But did it work?”

“Partially,” said the sovereign. “The treatment was stopped prematurely.”

“Well… can we try again?”

“No,” Kipexo said with a growl.

“Kipexo, I’m—”

“I said no!”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Put me down.”

“Ethan—”

“I said put me down!”

The bite in Ethan’s voice made Kipexo grit his teeth as he set the Earthling on his feet.

Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, arched his back, rolled his shoulders, and stretched. “Wow… I feel good. Like really good.” He hopped a bit on his feet and shook his hands. “I feel like I’ve got a lot of energy all of a sudden. Like I’m buzzing from head to toe.”

Sovereign Luxtetana nodded. “Lifreet treatments know the same result. Energy bursts for several hours followed by intense sleep. Atypical hunger and thirst will follow. All normal.”

“Can you fix what went wrong?”

Kipexo growled under his breath. Ethan ignored him.

“Yes,” the sovereign replied. “Excessive heat. Too hot for humans. We can adjust to bring internal temperature down during treatment. It would require… more trust,” he said with a cautious glance at Kipexo.

Ethan regarded Kipexo too, and the look on his face was resolute. “I want to try again.”

Kipexo didn’t reply. He merely chewed his cheek as he studied Ethan.

“They could’ve let the treatment continue,” Ethan said quietly. “But they didn’t. They did exactly what they said they would and considered my safety above all else. It’s not their fault it’s not designed for humans. So let them adjust and try again. What could it hurt?”

Again, Kipexo didn’t reply. Ethan wanted this, he wanted it so much he was willing to trust the Lifreet with his life to make it happen, and that scared Kipexo. But if Ethan wanted this so badly, and Kipexo said no, if he became the reason Ethan aged and died when he’d had the chance to live a longer, fuller life than any other human in the universe…

Kipexo didn’t know if he could live with that.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Kipexo was standing in the way because he was scared. He was scared to trust, scared to let go of the past, scared to place the most important person in his life in the hands of those he’d wronged for centuries.

He was scared because the soldier in him saw the opportunity he was handing his enemies on a silver platter, and he knew that, if their positions were reversed, the old Kipexo would’ve taken it. Shame and regret burned hot in Kipexo’s stomach as he looked into Ethan’s eyes. The Earthling stared up at him pleadingly, begging him silently to reconsider, and Kipexo knew he didn’t have a choice.

“Ok,” Kipexo said in defeat. “One more try. And only if we don’t see any negative effects from this first partial treatment. Deal?”

Ethan smiled. “Deal.”

Kipexo regarded Sovereign Luxtetana again. “I will meet with the Veil as promised. Adjust your machine all you like. I make no promises as to the outcome of these negotiations, but show me you can extend Ethan’s life, and I’ll be indebted to you.”

The sovereign bowed his head. “Understood, Commander.”