T'chaikrani Dancer

Kristina sat alone at the center of the table in the semi-darkened conference room and waited for the two enemies to arrive. She felt apprehension rising within her, but took a deep breath and visualized serenity, feeling the tension flowing out as she exhaled. Though she was only one-fourth T’chaikrani, she had perfected her inherited abilities through years of practice. At exactly the prescribed time, the door at the north end of the room opened and the T’chaikrani representative entered. He wore his simple yet elegant robes with an air of authority and wisdom. Though she knew he was at least 125 years old according to Earth’s calendar, he could have passed for only fifty on that planet. His distinguished appearance, combined with his obvious serenity and regal bearing, identified him instantly as a leader of his people. He radiated tranquility, and she immediately felt more calm and comfortable in his presence. He brushed his hand near the control panel, and the room lights brightened. As he glanced in her direction, he stopped and focused intently on her face for a few seconds. Kristina was petite and beautiful, accustomed to men’s admiring looks. She had large black eyes, a pert nose with freckles dusting her cheeks, and lips which smiled merrily at her own dimples. Her delicate features were framed by abundant hair flowing in black waves around her shoulders and down to her waist. She knew, however, that T’chaikrani men do not admire women for their beauty. Instead, she knew that she reminded him of another young woman one he had not seen for twenty years. With a barely perceptible nod in her direction, he moved on and seated himself at one end of the table. Almost immediately the door at the south entrance slid open, and the human strode into the room. Though he was wearing an admiral’s uniform, he looked too young for a position of such responsibility. With his blue eyes, sandy hair, and boyish good looks, he was almost a stereotype of the planet he represented. Even apart from his appearance, his obvious enthusiasm and charismatic personality were evident, and that alone would have identified him as human. With only a quick glance at the T’chaikrani representative, he looked at the slender young woman seated at the table. As he made eye contact with her, he suddenly stopped and gave her his full attention. For that moment, it seemed as though he recognized her and was trying to remember where and when he had seen her. Recovering himself, the moment passed and he seated himself opposite the T’chaikrani representative. Though she had rehearsed this moment many times in her mind, Kristina was suddenly uncertain how to begin. She considered the two men who sat with her. They were so different and yet in many ways very much the same. The two men had been on opposite sides of the war for more than fifteen years. Working through the Harala mediators, it had taken her two years to persuade them to meet like this and listen to what she had to say. Now they were at opposite ends of the table, as far apart as they could be while still sharing the same room with her. From at least one end of the table, where the human sat, there was definite tension in the air. They both watched her, waiting for her to start. She took a deep breath and let it out, quelling the anxiety in her stomach. In spite of her careful training, she was still much more human than T’chaikrani. When she spoke, her voice was quiet yet forceful, reflecting none of the nervousness she had felt earlier. “For most of my life, this senseless war between humans and the Alliance has affected millions of people on a dozen planets. My earliest memories are of this war, and it has ruined my life. By sharing this most unusual story with you, I hope to do my part to bring this nonsense to an end. I thank both of you for giving me this special opportunity.” She looked at each of the men, pausing briefly. “I don’t know all the details of the story, and you’ll have to help me by providing your part of it at the right times. Working in harmony, we should be able to piece together the entire history.” She smiled at the human, who was obviously confused, and transmitted a subtle message of encouragement and assurance to his mind. “Let’s begin at the beginning,” she announced, “when my mother was a young woman named T’Ariel.” It was the T’chaikrani leader’s turn to be surprised, but she ignored him. Gathering their three minds together into a shallow gestalt, she began her narrative without hesitation.