[Center][h2]Gilt and Yulzan[/h2]
Collab between Sigma and Tortoise[/center]

Andrei frowned at a holographic read-out displayed over his desk. He seemed to spend a lot of time doing that these days, he thought. Just kind of brooding in the general direction of technology. Not because he was a luddite- far from it, he was a tech billionaire, after all- but because lately technology seemed exclusively to be used to convey unpleasant information to him about all the new and gross peoples that the Giltians were meeting.

"Yool-zan," Andrei muttered the alien word under his breath like it's a swear. It may as well have been one. He was told, not asked, but [i]told[/i], that he'd be meeting with at 2 PM, Rainbow Time. It was a voice message from his mother that told him that- more technology delivering bad news, see?- and it told him three hours past. Every thing he knew about the Yulzan he learned in that time. He enjoyed exactly none of it.

"So," he asked Blue Girl, the sym secratary always standing by his side. "They're like... religious zealots? But the weird, skin-crawly alien version? How does that work?"

The tall, aquamarine robot sighed, but in a very contained and polite sort of way. "Well, neither. There's a lot of people, some humans included, who worship them as divine. The Yulzan themselves are either gods or conmen, depending on who it is you ask."

"Hey, I asked you."

"I think they're fully and totally insane," she said. Andrei twerked his eyebrows in the way that signaled that he agreed, but he wasn't happy about it. "Also," Blue Girl said, "they're here. Now. Shall I let them in?"

"Do you have to?"

She did. 

The room onboard the esteemed Rainbow ship that the Yulzan representatives were invited to meet the Giltians in was better than ordinary. More decorated, and more spacious despite the cramped reality of life on a starship. It had occured to the Giltians that these were a proud people, and pride makes for a good customer so long as it is well-satisfied. The room was a classy dining hall with a golden chandelier, carpeted and with a beautiful, curved window-wall that overlooked the East India Marketplace. There were a half-dozen stamp servants standing guard around the room, but no persons seated at the dining table but Andrei and four other businessmen. Those five and Blue Girl would be meeting the aliens alone. The less people knew about this, the better. For all the beauty and decoration that abounded, this remained something of a shady back-room deal, and everyone could feel it. There was no food on the table this time. Just datapads and electronic pens, the sort for signing contracts.

The two large doors opposite Andrei slid open.

Andrei was greeted by the sight of two imposing figures stomping past the doors, their build towering everyone present in the room. Flanking the pair was a smaller figure more comparable to human height, a member of the insectoid Aldzir dressed in religious garbs in a various shades of crimson, gold, and ebony. The Aldzir moved ahead, ready to present. “Presenting the most exalted of the mighty Yulzan! The High Ascendants Zara’gul and Vras’thran!” The Aldzir bowed as he shuffled to the left, the High Ascendant representatives approaching table. Both choosing to not sit at the moment. 

The Giltians were stumbled a little. The five humans in the room had no one response, but if you were to condense down what they were collectively feeeling just then, it'd read as "What [i]century[/i] is this?" There was something so distnictly medieval about that entrance. One of the businesswomen, an OldWell Representative by the name of Mrs. Battle, was shocked into standing up out of her chair and, in an attempt to recover from the awkwardness, did a little bow. The other Giltians looked at her. Then, not to be upstaged in front of a client, followed suit. Three more Giltians stood out of their chairs and sketched their best imitations of short bows before sitting back down. Only Andrei remained seated.

"Well, uh" he said. "Nice to meet you. I'm Andrei Federov. And I suppose you're Zara-gal and Vras Dan." He butchered their names so smoothly you would think it was intentional. "Good to have you here."

Ignoring the rather insulting butchering of their names, however, the rather accidental and awkward bows had alleviated any offences taken, Zara’gul gave a slight nod. “A pleasure.” He begun. “We’re pleased to find humans that are willing to sit down and simply talk with us…it is a rare quality these days.” Granted, it’s a situation of their own making. “The sourness of our war has reached many ears, nearly all have turned against us.”

Vras’thran was next to speak, an ethereal, feminine voice vibrating in the air. “So, few recognize our divinity, blind to their hatred and ignorance of the alien, clinging to their false beliefs in the name of “liberty” or other such nonsense.” She paused as she scanned the room. “But forgive our blather, what business do you wish to discuss?”

"The businessness of business," said Andrei. He shifted his shoulders, crossed his hands over the table. To those who knew him, this was the signifier he was about to start putting on his Reasonable Businessman persona. 

As much as he enjoyed playing the offensive drunk, and hated himself for it at the same time, he was technically a trained speaker. There are times to tap into that, he reasoned. When huge aliens are standing in front of you and speaking with the voices of angels, that is one of those times. "You say that all have turned against you. Gilt, of course, has not. We do not turn away a people before we've heard their story-" true, so far- "and we don't turn down possible partners just because others disregard them. There is a place for everyone to work with us. Your war has been brutal, from everything we've heard. This is the time when you need a partner. Someone whose goods can shift things in your favor. We're willing to be that partner, in exchange for, of course, fair trades and reasonable repayment. We are honest businessmen, in search of honest work." There's the deceptive part. "And, of course, that means nothing is off the table. Weapons, metal..." he looked over at the stamps, "...labor, especially. Cheap labor, if you understand me." 

Andrei shrugged so lightly it was a lie. "I'm sure we'll come to some mutally beneficial agreements."

The two Yulzan exchanged looks to one another, nodding before turning to Andrei. “Mr. FIdarof. “Zara’gul begun, having his own moment and butchering Andrei’s last name, after decades of Human interaction, some Yulzan still find it difficult to communicate with humans, their many dialects are a confusing concept to a Yulzan, and miscommunication is bound to occur.

 “The simple act of your offering to meet us at the table is a more than suitable enough gesture to hear you out. Whatever services you offer, we members of the ruling council are more then willing to pay for it. What more can you tell us?”

Some of the Giltians looked around at each other uncomfortably. One thing they'd learned from the nations they'd met so far is that this is always the Awkward Part. If they receive backlash, this is when it'll happen.

"Are you aware of stamps and syms?" asked Blue Girl, and every human in the room visibly relaxed. Not because they trusted her more than they would've trusted themselves to explain it. But because now they didn't have to.

"The terms are unfamiliar to us." Zara'gul replied.

"Mhmm," hummed Blue Girl. "Well, stamps are essentially biological robots, whereas syms are mechanical robots, like myself. Stamps are programmed to do specific jobs by tailored instinct and by cybernetic implants. For syms, our minds are copied over from human minds; but, worry not, the human is kept safely unharmed by this process. But," she waved her hand, "let us not get too caught up in the details. The essential bit to understand is only this: stamps and syms do most of the manual labor on Gilt, and so that keeps things very inexpensive. We can mass-produce goods with a speed and effeciency most peoples never obtain. What that means for you is that we can sell nearly anything. In your cases... I'd imagine you are in the market for weaponry and other purely-defensive military needs, no? We can supply that."

"And," said Andrei, but didn't continue. He was leaving it to Blue.

"And," said the sym, "we can also sell excess stamps and other syms. To do labor on your behalf. We work several times harder than humans do, rarely make mistakes, and do not require payment. I think it would be most beneficial to your wartime economy if you wished to purchase some."

The two exchanged looks, turning away from the humans as they quietly exchanged words, small mumbles heard here and there before the two High Ascendants turned back and face Andrei and the others. “What you offer is very promising.”

The description of the stamps in particular offers many opportunities, workers, cheap soldiers to swell the ranks of the Janissaries, and in between….and they may provide possible biomaterial for the continued development of the Condemned. The Syms would provide a similar advantage, further automating the Ascendancy in every aspect.  “Consider us sold on your…”pitch” as you humans say.”