"The technology that you have shown us so far is truly impressive, and it would save our people a lot of headaches in the future, especially with the creation of obsolete parts, plus your terms look good, especially the parts about not price gouging due to our remote location, but as I am sure you understand, I must wait for orders to come down from above before I can make any decision." The Negotiator informed Nico as they sat across the table from each other.

"Are your people a democracy? If it's going to take an extended negotiation, I can create lunch for everyone from the Replicator, and we can enjoy ourselves while the rest of the forces clean up the mess on the planet." Nico suggested.

"That sounds much better than going back in the bunker to wait for them to give us the go-ahead to bring you to the elected leaders. I hate to admit it, but even for us government officials, the bunker food is absolutely horrendous." The negotiator sighed.

"Then feel free to pick something. Just have the guards place some sort of plant life next to the feed side and select what you want from the options. I don't know how many of the menu options you will actually know, but there are pictures, so feel free to just pick what you like.

If you're feeling particularly hardcore, there are options for the Kepler standard ration packs available as well."

That made the guards chuckle. The replicator that was being pushed as an alternative to shelf-stable rations could also make shelf-stable rations.

It made sense in a way since the material to feed it wasn't always long-lasting, but the idea of making more ration packs at this point, after being in the bunker since the battles started, seemed like the worst possible outcome.

"Let's try this one. I am almost certain you cannot go wrong with a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup." The guard who brought in the log they were going to use as fuel suggested, tapping at the screen.historical

"Seriously, with all of the food options of an advanced culture at your fingertips, you choose soup and a sandwich?" The negotiator asked.

"Hey, you can tell a lot about a culture by how well they do the simple things." The guard defended himself.

"Oh, what philosophy book did that come from?"

Nico smirked at the exchange and brought the food to the table so that the next entree could be produced.

"I am about ninety percent sure that he just made that up because he wanted tomato soup. Go ahead and eat. I think the Negotiator is going to be a few minutes with the options. There are hundreds of available menu items."

One after another, the guards in the room made themselves lunch, with the Negotiator checking menu items in between every order until finally, he settled on a shepherd's pie and a pitcher of mango juice.

"I have no idea what a mango is, but it looks like the orange fruits we grow here." He explained as he poured himself a glass.

"While it is roughly the same color, Mangoes and oranges aren't the same fruit. It's sweet and pulpy though, so it should do well enough for your purposes." Nico explained.

After the first sip, his eyes opened in surprise, and he poured more glasses for the others.

"You have to try this strange juice. I've never tasted anything like it, but I think it would go particularly well with our local spiced stew."

The guards gave the juice a taste, looking impressed, so Nico got up and tapped in an order for mutton curry and brought the dish out to the table.

"Try this spiced stew. I think you might like it. Even if you don't, you can tell the others that you got to try delicacies from the other side of the Galaxy." she suggested.

"Oh, this is good. The Planetary Governor is going to be so mad when he finds out that we got to enjoy a banquet while we waited for them to make a decision."

Two hours later, the response finally came up from the bunker where the senior government officials were hiding. They agreed in principle to the trade agreement but had a number of conditions that they wanted to be fulfilled.

A few of them were no big deal, only a small number of Materials Printers to help rebuild their industry and some materials that Terminus could produce with their more advanced technology, but the last one was simply outlandish.

"They want fifty thousand human females to help diversify the planet's genetic base? I can offer you fifty thousand embryos with different genetics." Nico suggested. That could easily be done with their replicators if you just ignored the moral implications of genetically engineering humans.

The message was sent below, and a few minutes later, a modified response was sent back up. They were willing to accept males as well, as long as at least half were females between fifteen and twenty years old.

"I am starting to suspect that they do not understand the nature of the Reavers. We don't deal in human trafficking, and we don't deal with slavers." Nico told the Negotiator with a frown.

He took a device from his pocket and turned it on, then whispered to her. "Let me talk to them. I'm not sure what this is all about. There are millions of family lines on the planet. We aren't short of genetic diversity."

He turned the device off again and put it back in his pocket, then sent a string of messages back and forth with his commanders.

Finally, he handed Nico a tablet with a new set of terms on it.

[The Planetary Governor's Office demands the immediate surrender of the Terminus Trading Company and the provision of all available reconstruction materials along with the rightfully due tribute of harem candidates earmarked for the Cabinet Members.]

The Negotiator sighed and shook his head at the idiocy of the message, even as the communicators on all of the guards beeped, and they raised their guns toward Nico while the sound of footsteps sounded outside as the Mecha attempted to seize Shattered Pride.

Nico looked at the Negotiator with pity. "I will give you one last warning. I really wouldn't do that if I were you. Making enemies of everyone you meet is a particularly bad idea, especially after they agreed to save your planet free of charge."

"I don't have the authority to countermand their orders. I am sorry."