Khalzin’s building had several securable upper floors to keep the other humanoids safe until the Galactic Alliance got another ship to Kantenan.
And if the Coalition would let the ship even land.
At this point, it was questionable.
Stron wasn't a council member, but he'd heard enough from his parents and knew how the Coalition would likely proceed.
Already, the sky had very little traffic--they were already locking down all unnecessary travel in the system or out of the system. No one was coming in or out at this point.
More foreign humanoids on Kantenan ground? Most would not be happy about that. The laws of Kantenan resisted foreigners to their sacred home world. More coming, after today’s explosion?
Not likely.
“Do you think this is too much?” Khalzin asked him, drawing his mind back to the moment.
Stron glanced at him as the lift rose. In his mind? This was the last thing Khalzin needed to be worried about. But he could not stop his friend from doing anything. “It is your mate. What do you think?”
“I am unsure. She is very quiet. I want to make her happy. She was very happy to see her friend, so I would think this would make it easier for her. Most likely for them both.”
“Your logic follows.”
“But does the emotion?” Khalzin asked.
“I wouldn't know.”
Khalzin raised his eyebrow. “You, my friend, are known for your knowledge of such things.”
Stron shook his head. “The knowledge I have has nothing to do with what you're asking. Pleasing a female is easy enough for a short period. You're looking for more long-term than anything I am familiar with.”
“I am not as familiar with females as you are. Any advice would be appreciated.”
“Don't grow bored of her,” Stron said.
Khalzin raised his eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“They say not with a true mate. I would not know.” True mates, one never grew tired or bored of. Mad at? Frustrated with? Certainly as anyone would with an eternal partner. But bored? That should not be a problem.
Or so they said.
The lift slowed, and they arrived at the Embassy.
The door swooshed open, and Stron and Khalzin stepped into the foyer, where they were identity scanned, though many of the guards recognized them both. Both of them touched their horns to a piece of identity reader, and it cleared them both to enter.
Formalities of the protocol.
Guards in their black and gray were on posts up and down the hallway. In the distance, Stron could see that some of the off-worlders, but not the one they sought. Elevated emotions churned as the representatives were being organized and sorted.
Like they were things and not beings.
Perhaps he was just exhausted from the day, but it generally upset him how all of this was being organized and handled.
The Galactic Alliance personnel were being treated like things to deal with, while there were others who needed help, but no one was giving it.
“Gol-Vett,” one of the guards stopped them. “The Coalition wishes to speak to you.”
Khalzin shook his head. “This is not the time for that. I have other tasks at the moment.”
“Not you,” the guard said. “You, Gol-Vett Stron. The Coalition wants you to come to an emergency meeting.”
