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He wanted to capture the most perfect image and have it framed, not just for his own pleasure, but for others to enjoy.

Rane kept quiet about the art he created. Few Olickie knew he loved to paint. If Cowes found out about his studio on Prodigy, he’d make him stop. He’d claim it interfered with the diplomatic mission.

Rane tilted his head as he saw a star flare white. That was beautiful. That was art. It was something he would have to attempt to capture.

“If you don’t take that back, I will tear off your face.” The harsh growl grabbed Rane’s focus.

“Rane!”

Rane turned, startled to find Cowes standing next to him.

“Pay attention to Councillor Agrave,” Cowes whispered.

Rane straightened his spine. He’d been out among the stars, oblivious to the growing tension.

He studied the diplomats around the table. Each of the twelve diplomats had an Olickie support adviser standing behind them, helping to keep them calm and focused on the meeting.

The rest of the Olickie support advisors looked at Rane with a mixture of curiosity or amusement. You let your focus slip at your peril. When Cowes caught you slacking, he wouldn’t let you forget it, and Rane had been slacking for a long time.

Rane focused on Councillor Agrave and centered on his emotional state. The Tolong was on his feet; tension bristled off him.

“I would like to see you tear off my face, you star fart.” General Dakat stood from his seat and jabbed a tentacle at the Tolong.

Rane stepped forward. He took a deep breath. “Councillor Agrave, there is no cause for anger. Your points and concerns are valid. You are recognized as an influential figure in the diplomatic community. All your reasoning will be considered and debated alongside everybody else’s. You do not need to be agitated. Reason and calmness will ensure a successful outcome to this negotiation. Be at peace. Find the calm within you and know there is no need to cause harm.” His words were interlaced with a low, melodic hum.

That was the key to an Olickie’s ability to defuse tense situations. Their tonal hum affected alpha brainwaves, releasing endorphins and diffusing any adrenaline that created rash actions and angry outbursts.

When he stopped speaking, Rane continued the low hum as Councillor Agrave sank back into his seat and his shoulders sagged.

“My apologies. This is something I care deeply about. I need to ensure the best for my people. I did not mean to cause offense. You must see I have a valid reason for stating these requests.” The councillor’s tone was languid, all aggression had gone.

General Dakat had also been calmed by the tuneful hum Rane had spread around the room and perched above his seat as if uncertain what to do next.

He gave a slow nod. “I accept your apology. We all care for our people. I’m sure that, if we spend a few more days discussing the outcomes, it will be successful for us all.”

Rane winced. A few more days stuck in this stuffy, boring room, listening to everyone talk about the same point in a different way. He wondered if he should jump out of an emergency airlock now. This was a cruel kind of torture.

He couldn’t help but notice the angry glare his boss gave him as he walked away. Rane had salvaged the meeting, but this wasn’t over. He’d be in for a reprimand.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Cowes wouldn’t get rid of him. Rane was the best when it came to calming situations.

He was one of those rare Olickie who could influence several people at once. Rane was an asset. That meant he could afford to take a few liberties. He never pushed his luck too far. His family had a long and checkered history in service. He wasn’t going down that route.

He pulled his face into what looked like an apologetic expression and focused on Councillor Agrave.

Rane would concentrate for the rest of the meeting. No more distractions and no more thoughts about painting the beautiful, nervous human or the stark brilliance of the stars.

As hard as he tried, his fingers twitched behind his back as they longed to hold a paintbrush and sweep it across a canvas as he brought his art to life.

He had so many stories he could tell with paints, canvas, and a brush. Rane clenched his hands together. Now was not the time to think about that. He had to concentrate and not make any more slipups for the rest of the evening.

It felt like an eternity had passed when suddenly chairs were being pushed back and everyone was on the move.

Rane had let his thoughts slide again and couldn’t recall anything said over the last half an hour. That would not go unnoticed.

“That was an excellent start to the meeting.” Cowes stood by the door and shook hands with everyone as they left the room. “We will commence again at eight tomorrow morning.”

Rane let out a long sigh and rolled his shoulders. It was late, coming up on midnight. He’d have barely enough time to eat, grab a few hours of sleep, and shower before he was back here. There was no time for his art. There was no time to satisfy his desire to create.