Page 27 of Reaper Said Mine

I take my seat. "My counteroffer is equally simple. The Alliance recognizes Guyver Station as an independent Reaper-administered territorial authority. Helios Combine forfeits all claims to the station and surrounding salvage rights. Alliance scouts withdraw beyond the Trask Fold. Combine assets seized from Reaper refugee labor accounts are returned with interest. Helios executives responsible for the home-ship purges and Badlands colony failures are delivered to me alive. Once those conditions are met, I will consider refraining from signing whatever agreement annoys you most."

For a moment, the chamber hears only the distant churn of shipyard machinery.

Then Gobold laughs.

It is not a pleasant sound. It rolls out of him like rocks down a mountain. Several aides flinch, and one of Theryki’s legal clerks grips his slate with both hands.

"Alive, he says," Gobold rumbles. "You want corporate ghosts dragged from penthouses and handed over for Reaper justice."

"I am flexible on the penthouses."

Theryki folds her hands on the table. "Lord Gnash, impossible conditions are not negotiation."

"They are if I enjoy watching you explain why justice is impractical."

"The individuals you demand are not subject to Coalition authority."

"Then your authority is less useful than advertised."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "Coalition recognition would offer legitimate mechanisms for claims and arbitration."

"Would your mechanisms resurrect the dead?"

"No."

"Would they return stolen years?"

"No."

"Would they punish Helios in a manner that costs more than a footnote in an annual report?"

She does not answer immediately.

I lean back, letting the chair creak under my weight. "That is what I thought."

Wilcox studies me. "You know no one in this room can agree to those terms."

"Of course."

"Then why put them on the table?"

"Because every official demand aimed at me begins with the assumption that Reaper grief has no legal standing. I like making civilized people say that part quietly to themselves."

Gobold’s face hardens. "Do not lecture me about grief."

"I would never," I say. "You clearly prefer giving lectures."

His hands flex on the table. The chair beneath him groans.

Theryki intervenes before his temper can become useful. "There are practical paths forward. Limited recognition. Controlled trade access. Medical aid. Engineering assistance. A framework allowing Guyver Station to regularize its status without surrendering autonomy."

"Without surrendering autonomy?" I gesture toward her legal packet. "Your last draft requests observer placement in defense operations, tariff oversight, emergency access corridors, docking priority, and data integration."

"Standard safeguards."

"If I wanted standard safeguards, I would have left the Combine in charge. They adored safeguards. They safeguarded workers until they died owing rent on their oxygen."

Wilcox’s expression tightens. She does not look away, which I respect more than I wish to.