Page 21 of Crash Landed with My Weredragon

"So, you have eaten. That was cave moss porridge."

"I don't care what it was. It was better than anything on the Vulcana."

He laughed, and the sound echoed in the cavern, and two Weredragon researchers looked up with expressions of mild alarm because apparently laughter wasn't common in this room.

"Come on," Toren said. "My father's called a full council session. You should probably be presentable."

"Define presentable."

"Not covered in data dust with mineral samples in your pockets."

Marina looked down. She did, in fact, have three mineral samples in her jacket pockets. She removed them and set them on the console.

"Old habit," she said.

"Scientists," he replied, with the fond exasperation of someone getting used to this particular brand of chaos.

* * *

Boradrith's council session was a different animal from the private meeting.

The audience chamber held twelve councillors in addition to the D'Karr. Marina recognized the formal dynamics immediately. The seating positions were calculated for political effect, body language was telegraphing alliances and oppositions before anyone spoke. It was a boardroom carved from stone, and she'd spent her career in boardrooms.

Khrelan sat at the far end, navy scales dark against the obsidian. A silver-scaled elder named Councillor Draeth occupied the seat nearest the king which was the position of seniority and trust. She'd served three rulers, and her presence carried the authority of someone who'd seen worse and survived it. Beside her, Goruth, the agricultural representative; brown-scaled, broad, with the weathered look of someone who spent his days worrying about food and his nights worrying about the people who needed it.

Athena stationed herself against the wall behind Marina; not seated, not participating but watching everything with the relaxed alertness of a woman who could go from standing to fighting in under a second. Peter stood beside her, his presence steady and reassuring. Patel was already in the research caverns with Melessra, having been informed of the council session and having declined to attend on the grounds that she was "in the middle of something."

"I've reviewed your data," Boradrith told Marina. "Your agricultural projections are compelling. Your atmospheric science aligns with our research. The council has questions."

What followed was two hours of the most intense interrogation Marina had ever experienced. The councillors were sharp, skeptical, and thorough.

Voreth who was a yellow-scaled, sharp-featured and clearly the designated antagonist, opened the questioning. "How many humans exist on your planet?"

"Approximately nine billion."

A murmur rippled around the table. Nine billion was a number that exceeded Dobromia's entire population by a factor of four hundred fifty thousand. The scale was almost incomprehensible.

"And how many of those nine billion know about our species?" Voreth pressed.

"Currently, only the crew of the Vulcana and the senior officials who authorized our mission. That will change once the alliance is formalized. Full public disclosure is part of our proposed framework."

"You're asking us to reveal ourselves to nine billion strangers."

"I'm asking you to reveal yourselves to potential allies. The distinction matters."

"It matters to you. It may not matter to the nine billion strangers who learn that fire-breathing aliens exist on a planet they've never heard of."

Marina held his gaze. "Humans have spent their entire history imagining exactly this scenario. First contact with an alien species. We've written thousands of stories about it. Some of those stories end badly. Most of them end with the understanding that the universe is bigger than any one planet, and that bigger isn't the same as threatening."

Draeth intervened before Voreth could respond. "Your stories are your stories. Our history is our history. We've never had contact with another intelligent species. We've survived by isolation and self-reliance. What you're proposing is the abandonment of a survival strategy that has kept us alive for thousands of cycles."

"What I'm proposing is the evolution of that strategy. Isolation worked when Dobromia was self-sustaining. The twin suns' destabilization changes the equation. Your survival strategy needs to evolve, or the thing it's protecting won't survive long enough to benefit from the protection."

Draeth studied her with ancient, sharp eyes. "You argue well."

"I argue with data. The data argues for itself."

The questions continued. Military capabilities, disease vectors, environmental compatibility, genetic risks. Marina answered everything patiently, understanding that skepticism wasn't the same as hostility, and that every question answered honestly was a brick in the foundation of trust.