Chapter 66: Let the Negotiations Begin!

"Yo, we meet again, you little shit. Got your 'please don't kill me' speech ready?"

Dingo’s face filled the massive monitor. He was clad in a tight green spacesuit that left little to the imagination. Taro let out a yelp of genuine surprise at the sight of him.

"Your back... are you one of those 'Wing' guys?"

There was a bizarre bulge in the suit right where his shoulder blades should be, making him look like he’d grown an extra set of mutant joints. Dingo didn't even blink at Taro’s blatant staring.

"The hell does that have to do with you?" he barked. "More importantly, how are you planning to settle the bill for this little stunt? Let’s hear it, 'Mr. President.'"

Dingo’s voice was a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate right in Taro’s gut. Taro felt the urge to curl into a ball and hide, but then he thought of Koume and Marl. He thought of Alan and Bella. Suddenly, a fresh wave of bravado surged through him.

"Hmph! Who’s settling what? You’re the one who started this stupid war in the first place!"

Dingo let out a dry, raspy chuckle.

"It was a formal declaration of war, perfectly legal under Imperial Law. I don’t see why you have any right to bitch. If you’ve got a problem, why don’t you go complain to His Majesty the Emperor yourself? A guy like you could probably pull it off, couldn't he?"

"Sigh... Just as I thought. I’ll give you the full explanation on that later. More importantly, what are your terms? You don’t actually want to murder us all, right?"

"Massacre? Sounds tempting. But I’m not in the mood to poke the Empire more than I have to. The terms are simple: hand over the Alpha Star System, and I’ll let you lot scurry away."

Dingo sounded thoroughly annoyed. Before Taro could fire back a retort, Bella’s voice cut through the comms.

"You’ve got to be joking."

"Nobody wants your brand of 'ruling,'" Bella continued, "and you don't actually intend to do it anyway. We both know the fallout of destroying a Stargate isn't exactly a picnic to imagine."

Dingo shifted his gaze toward her window on the screen.

"Bella of the Guns... Hey, you. Why not hop over to our side? I’ll let you keep running Alpha, and I’ll guarantee you a high seat in the White Dingo. Hell, nobody would be stupid enough to act tough around you anyway. It’s a damn good deal, isn't it?"

Bella let out a sharp, dismissive "Pah!"

"It’s not a bad offer on paper. But I’m going to have to pass. You’re just too boring for my taste."

"Boring? I don't follow. You saying this brat is any better?"

Bella flashed a wicked grin at Dingo’s irritated face.

"Oh, absolutely. I never get bored when I'm with the boy. If you’re looking to pick up chicks, try someone else. The answer is no."

She shut him down with surgical precision. Taro felt his face heat up and looked away, mumbling a quiet "Thanks."

"Well, you heard the lady. No deal," Taro said, regaining his footing. "Our terms are an indefinite ceasefire and the total withdrawal of your forces. That’s it."

"Hey, hey, you delusional little prick! Do you even know what situation you're in? We’re the ones holding the leash here! Not you!"

Dingo slammed his fist onto what sounded like a desk, his voice booming through the speakers. Taro was on the verge of stumbling over his own tongue in a panic when Alan’s voice saved him.

"Wait just a moment," Alan interjected.

Taro let out a breath, realizing that these high-definition displays were a bit too good at conveying just how scary a screaming mercenary leader could be.

"We’re cornered. I’ll admit that," Alan said calmly. "But we’re not so far gone that we’ve lost our bite."

"Stop acting tough, cowboy... It was Alan, right? Rare name for this day and age. That’s not your real name, is it?"

"My name is irrelevant right now. And I’m not posturing, Dingo. Even as we speak, reinforcements are closing in. And more importantly, we have him."

On the display, Alan’s eyes shifted toward Taro. Taro puffed out his chest and flashed his most confident, toothy grin.

"Torpedoes... though you probably don't even know what they are. Between those heavy warhead weapons and my railguns, I’ve still got more ammo than I know what to do with. And hey, Dingo? Before I die, I’m making damn sure I take you with me."

Dingo threw his head back and laughed.

"You really think I’m that stupid? This transmission is being bounced through multiple proxy vessels. You couldn't identify my ship if your life depended on it. Besides, there’s no way you’re carrying a warehouse of those massive warheads. You’ve got, what, maybe two left? Am I warm?"

Taro choked on his words. Ugh. The guy was spot on.

Man, he’s sharp even in the middle of a clusterfuck like this.

"Fine, you caught me. We’ve only got two heavy warheads left. But... Alan? How we doing?"

Alan gave a subtle thumbs-up and a predatory smile.

"I’ve got him. Logged as E00. Dingo, I’m sending your identification signal directly to your console. Catch."

Alan tapped away at his controls. Dingo looked confused for a split second until a report must have come in from one of his lackeys. His eyes darted to a side monitor, and his face went pale.

"You bastard... you hacked us?! That is a blatant violation of Imperial Law!"

"If you can find a trace of it, feel free to put me in handcuffs," Alan countered coolly. "Good luck with that. More importantly, Dingo—do you feel lucky enough to dodge Teiro’s warhead weapons?"

Dingo’s brow furrowed into a deep V. Taro decided to twist the knife.

"By the way," Taro added, "I can keep blasting until your shields are nothing but scrap. I’ve got about forty railgun rounds and those two torpedoes with your name on them. Feel free to try and leg it in an escape craft. Sniping a pod isn't much harder than hitting a turret. Plus, the heat bloom from a torpedo doesn't care if you're a few miles away."

Taro flashed a truly villainous smirk. Dingo’s face twisted in pure, unadulterated frustration. He let out a long, ragged sigh.

"Every single time. It’s always you. You’re the one who ruins everything... Fine! Dammit, fine! Let’s talk compromise."

Dingo went silent for a moment, his gears clearly turning. "Alright," he said, staring into the camera.

"We freeze the Stargate Beacon until the war is over. After that, you can do whatever the hell you want. That is my absolute bottom line."

"No way, that’s impossible! You’d just use that time to run wild!" Taro argued.

"Kid, a negotiation starts with a little thing called trust. Look, you might be able to kill me. But we’re an organization. If I die, someone else will come to finish the job. Don't you forget it."

"It’s hard to trust a guy who’s actively threatening to murder me! Your logic is full of holes!"

"Shut up, you little brat! Listen, we're—!"

"Hah? I don't give a damn! Stop looking down on me just because I’m a kid! I am—!"

The negotiation quickly devolved into a shouting match. Any semblance of professional diplomacy vanished, replaced by two people screaming haphazard threats at their monitors.

Eventually, as they both started to run out of breath, Alan raised a hand. "Can I say something?"

"Look, Dingo. At this rate, everyone ends up miserable. As you can see, our President is still practically a child. Honestly, if he throws a full-blown tantrum, I’m not sure even I can stop him."

Alan raised an eyebrow at the screen. Taro did his best to look grumpy, but inside, he was cheering. Nice one, Alan! This was exactly the "good cop, bad cop" routine they’d rehearsed.

"And Dingo, you’re operating under a misunderstanding. The Empire doesn't actually plan to do anything to you. Directly, at least. Listen to this."

Alan emphasized the word "directly." He tapped a button, and the image of Dean appeared on the monitor.

"Hello, Alan. This is a rare surprise."

"I have no intention of involving myself in your little skirmish. I won't be helping you, and I won't be helping Dingo."

The recording played out the exchange between Dean and Alan. Dingo watched it like a hawk, a slow, realization-filled smile spreading across his face.

"I see. So you lot really are connected to the Empire... That recording looks legit. So, why are you showing me this? You're putting this on the table?"

Alan nodded. Taro took that as his cue.

"We’re actually an experimental unit from the Arsenal," Taro lied with the straightest face he could muster. "We’ve got a fleet of WINDs and were on our way to field-test some new hardware. We were even thinking of letting some civilians use the gear to gather more data."

Dingo’s eyes practically popped out of his head.

"To civilians...? You bastard, did you sell that tech to the EAP?!"

Hook, line, and sinker! Taro screamed internally.

"Well, this trip was just a preliminary survey," Taro said, tilting his head with a smug grin. "We’ve only got our own stuff for now. Whether or not we start selling to them in the future... well, I guess that depends on how these negotiations go, doesn't it?"

Taro expected Dingo to explode in a fit of rage, but the man went eerily still. He stared into space, his fingers rhythmically drumming against his desk as he processed the threat.

"Your demands were military withdrawal and an indefinite ceasefire... fine," Dingo said, his voice now flat and businesslike. "However, the best I can give you is a non-aggression pact for the Alpha Star System. I’m leaving a small contingent of stationed forces behind for 'monitoring.' A verbal promise is worthless. This is non-negotiable."

Dingo didn't sound like he was posturing anymore; he sounded like a man who had reached the limit of his patience. Taro realized this was as good as it was going to get.

"In exchange," Dingo continued, "I demand a non-aggression pact toward the White Dingo from you and the Imperial Military. Furthermore, you are prohibited from providing new weapons or direct combat support to the EAP. My stationed forces will keep an eye on things from the trade route. And naturally, I’m going to restrict your direct trade with the EAP."

"Hey! Then what was the point of protecting the trade route?!"

"I didn't say trade was prohibited," Dingo chuckled, a dark, amused sound. "In fact, I’m going to make you even richer."

Taro tilted his head, completely lost.

"We’ll buy from you at Imperial standard unit prices—roughly the same as the EAP. Given the difference in scale, you’ll probably be doing most of your business with us anyway, but you can just close your eyes and take the credits. You keep your business and your star system. We give up on Alpha, but we escape the Empire's thumb. It’s good for me, and it’s good for you. Right?"