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Isyara stared out at Tchinomy. It was a ruinous wasteland, with few remaining buildings peppering the skyline. It was a firm reminder of the original, fragile form that her people once held. And it was a glowing symbol to other species to take note of their own miserable bodies. For Isyara, however, it was a personal moment of privacy. So few cared to return to the surface of planets aside from the desire to hunt and consume.

She turned back, away from the window, to look at the luxurious room. Diplomacy was its intent, as apparent by the flags adorning the walls and the comfortable furniture for two humanoids to discuss with one another. Discussion was the farthest thing from her mind, but she did appreciate the reprieve the room provided. Away from all the underlings. The religious zealots. The pushy military bodies.

Calm and quiet.

Approaching the table in the center, Isyara poured herself a glass of transvine wine. She couldn’t drink it, but she indulged in the aroma and enjoyed the way it swished in the glass. How long had it been since she had a taste of something? Isyara paused and brought the glass to her visor. She tried to imagine the taste and savor it. Nothing. She placed the glass back down and sat in one of the lounging couches, waiting for her diplomat.

Isyara gave Tchinomy one more glance before the automatic doors slid open. She turned her attention to them, taking note of the human that walked in. A familiar face. It was a masculine visage touched by the softness of that organic weakness.

“Kian,” she said.

Kian stopped and gave a curt bow before continuing forward. The doors behind him slid shut, sealing them in. He settled into the couch across from her, appearing as official as ever with his adorned dress suit with trims of flashy material. Her own cape hung on the nearby wall, making her appear slightly less official and grand than usual.

“Isyara St Shaiad,” he replied. “I am always humbled by your presence.”

“Many say that. Few mean it. I believe you speak the truth, if only for selfish reasons.”

“This job is for my people, after all. The Empire. Even taking into account our flavor of diplomacy.”

Isyara chuckled and presented the table. “Enjoy the wine. One of our recently subsumed worlds contained bushels of transvines, ripe for the picking.”

Kian reached forward and gently sipped some of the wine. Isyara watched him closely, relishing the shifting of his lips, the movement of his throat, and the spark in his eyes. The rest of his body seemed to relax into it, no doubt already enjoying the organic aphrodisiac. He set the glass down.

“Thank you for the gift, certainly the finest blend I’ve tasted.”

“Would you truthfully say that? Or does the presence of the Hierarch tempt you into saying the most agreeable things?”

“Perhaps a part of it is simple etiquette, but I still speak the truth.”

“Yes, humans and their etiquette. Were you branded with the cloth, etiquette would be your second nature.”

“I would say, Hierarch, that it already is,” Kian replied.

Isyara tilted her head, visor watching him. Yes, he did have a degree of self control, even without the constant overhang of religious fervor ready to strike him down at a moment’s notice. A fervor she had the privilege of avoiding altogether.

“Have you ever wondered, Kian, why it is that I out of the entire church decide to meet you?”

“I figured it was a matter of religious solidarity, Hierarch. The Vodyani are known to be ecclesiastical peoples, and an element such as myself may introduce a negative idea in the eyes of your leaders,” he replied.

“Blunt. I appreciate that flavor of speech. Your words do carry a truth about them. Yet, also, diplomacy is not a mainstay of the Vodyani, as I’m certain you know, we tend to exert pressure from afar. When we do have to tend to diplomatic matters, they are of a serious nature.”

“And you are a serious person, certainly.” Kian nodded.

“I am. To my people and yours, this should be a sign that what we speak of important matters. And yet…”

“Something amiss?”

Isyara stared at him for a moment, mentally plucking away every bit of his decorative garb. The craving of the physical returned to her, the sin knocking at her mind and shaking her faith. She would just have to open the door and deal with the intruder.

“You understand that everything we speak of is entirely of a confidential nature. To break this taboo would see harsh ramifications that ripple through your Empire.”

Kian’s face tightened ever so slightly. “I understand, of course. I am here to mitigate and amend any sort of misgivings our peoples have. The fact that I am here shows that we consider you an equal.”

Isyara leaned back. “Unfortunate, then, that we do not see you in the same light, plodding around in your fleshy forms. We may admire the tenacity that you bring, but it is restrained by your inferior shell. Something I find curious.” She raised a hand and beckoned him over. “Come.”

As stoic as ever, Kian approached her side and sat down.

“What is it that you wish to speak of, Hierarch?” he asked.

“Promises, Kian.” Isyara reached for his visage, running gentle fingers along its side. He was alive, feeling, nerves rousing at her touch. Her body felt so constricting now. “I promise to guarantee political favor in return for a degree of loyalty from you.”

“I hope you don’t mean to imply--”

Isyara placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. She pulled it away, making sure to run along his mouth as she did so.

“I imply nothing else except that you listen to my words in this abode. A private place that neither of us will ever speak of, not to any creature. You are my servant here, understood?”

Kian remained silent, not agreeing nor disagreeing. He was a diplomat, after all, and he could not risk stepping into some dubious agreement. That was perfectly fine. She would simply show him.

“You may understand that we consider the flesh to be primitive, impure.” Isyara tilted her head down, visor blatantly looking at his crotch. “Sinful.”

“I understand,” he replied.

“Then know that even those who would die for the Church of the Endless are still weak to the call – the temptation – of the flesh.”

“I don’t want to presume, yet…”

Kian’s eyes traced up her body, landing back on her visor. They traded a stare before Isyara nodded.

“A smart, physical beast you are. Yes. I intend to satiate that sin.” For a time. “And you, as a personal diplomat, are the best fit for such a role. Will you ease these desires? Consider it a service to your Empire.”

“It seems a dangerous game to play along with this forbidden desire.” Kian adjusted a cuff, almost as if he were attempting to appear more official, or above all of this. “Something of that magnitude could, as you said before, send ripples through our Empires. I understand how your Cloth works. It’s very possible even your actions are monitored, Hierarch.”

“Wise words, if perhaps a quick judgment.” Isyara stared at Kian. “I am above all, and all answer to me. Any heresies I enact, I do so for the good of the Vodyani, and those who disagree will be silenced.” She leaned back. “Do you disagree, Kian?”

“I do not.”

“Good. Wise indeed.” She crossed a leg. “Strip.”

Kian tensed, if only for a moment. He nodded and stood up, briefly glancing to the window. While it would have been exciting for all of Tchinomy to gaze upon him, he was wholly unseen.

“The window is opaque from the outside. Your shame is hidden in this realm. Continue,” she said.

Slowly, Kian began to disrobe. Isyara watched in fascination as bit by bit, his modest clothing made its way onto the table before her. That ceremonial uniform gave way to soft, tender flesh and the true organic that lay underneath. She could see little goosebumps flare on his skin. The room must have been colder than she imagined, and she tried to capture the sensation in her head. The flaring of nerves and the subtle chill that would creep up her spine. It seemed so long ago.

Then came his pants, finally unveiling the most depraved of Isyara’s fascination. It had been some time since she gazed upon genitalia, or at the very least, that of a flesh and blood creature. Her gaze focused on his shaft and the balls behind it. He wasn’t erect, but he would be, soon. Kian placed his arms at his back, seeming official despite his blatant nudity. It was amusing and admirable that he tried to keep his decorum.

“How do you feel, Kian? Care for another glass of wine?” she asked.

“Cold, Hierarch. And no, thank you.”

“Yes, I imagined you would be. Come back down, so that I may see you more closely.” She beckoned him with a hand.

Kian obliged her, his soft form easing into the couch. The essence inside Isyara stirred, growing excited at the sight of his penis. Should she touch it now? Her thumb rubbed against her index. Yes, yes she should. Isyara reached over and grabbed at his flaccid manhood. She grew all the more aroused when it twitched from her touch. The simmer of taboo washed over Isyara, and she relished in it. This was for her own sake, to keep her mind clear, to no longer crave the physical.

“You should feel a level of honor, Kian, not many creatures such as yourself have experienced the touch of a chosen Vodyani. Certainly not of the Hierarch,” she said.

Kian swallowed. “The grandiosity is not lost on me.”

“And how does my touch feel? Agreeable?” Isyara slowly stroked him, feeling his member stir. “I imagine so.”

“Yes, it is.” A soft sigh escaped his lips, another physical treat.

It was hard to decide what she should focus on, his expression or his growing erection. His face began to drip with pleasure, that stoic visage twitching with delight as Isyara moved her hand. And at the same time, his erection twitched and throbbed in her grasp, the true source of her sinful lust.

Her body quickly decided on its focus, gradually settling on his erection. The shiny head, the length, the girth, the testicles underneath. Isyara had to have more of it, soak in its depravity. Her other hand ran up his thigh, easing his legs farther apart. She would just have to get closer…

“Remain where you are,” she said.

Isyara, keeping her grasp on Kian’s erection, eased onto the ground and in-between his legs. Her visor moved closer and closer, allowing her a smell of his physical, depraved form. Just a tad closer. A groan filtered through Isyara’s suit as her visor pressed up against his erection. It smeared across her Cloth, sullying it, dirtying it. Kian’s breath hitched as she approached it, only adding to the lustful scene in her mind.

Of course, the fact that his balls hung below didn’t escape her. Isyara inched forward more until the pair pressed against her chin. His reproductive center, that dirty form of propagation. Not essence, no, Kian reproduced by sexual fervor. That primitive desire that only the lowest creatures desired. And she craved it. Those “extra” functions of her specialized Cloth began to ache for their own touch. She lightly moved her head, rubbing his balls and erection against her face.

“A crude form becoming enticed by physical motion,” Isyara said. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? And yet my mind is called to it.”

Kian’s only response was a simple sigh. He likely didn’t want to say anything to persuade her mind one way or the other. This was all a dangerous game for him, but his body was willing to play. Even if he showed some hesitance, his lesser form was so easily swayed.

Another devious thought stirred in Isyara’s mind. She needed more than to simply enjoy him in this moment, she needed his body to react, to want her. The primitive rutting she needed was for both parties to enjoy, trapping both bodies in the depths of sexual lust.

“Do you desire this form, Kian?” she asked. “Your body may agree, but I find it best when the mind is truthful itself. Consider it the essence of who you are. Tell me.”

“At the risk of coming off as crude, Hierarch, I do.”

“Now that your mind is in full agreement, perhaps you could direct your body how best to show that desire.”

Kian quickly got the idea, lightly shifting his erection back and forth on Isyara’s visor. Had she a mouth, or a tongue, she would have been lavishing his penis with attention. Instead, he happily thrust against her, body begging for a touch that could not come. Almost… face fucking her.

“There we are,” she whispered. “Faster, primitive. Display all of your desires.”

The human obliged her, moving his hips all the faster. Isyara shifted her head, allowing his erection to pass over every inch of her visor, staining her holy visage with his filthy organ. She pressed a little harder, nudging into his erection as it passed over her. The vague heat radiated into her, helping her further connect herself to the physical. It was all a reminder of the degeneracy she was enacting upon herself.

Isyara’s Cloth, her body, quivered again. The lust that worked its way through her was reaching a boiling point she could no longer ignore. A hand trailed from his legs to her body, sliding further and further down until coming upon her crotch. It was a devious alteration of her holy form, and getting to use it in this way made her all the more aroused.

The plate on her groin shifted away to reveal a vagina, a close approximation of what several humanoid species had. More importantly, it delivered her that sacrilegious touch Isyara needed. One of her fingers eased onto the bottom of her folds, then trailed upward, stopping at her clitoris. Isyara shuddered, a moan escaping her.

“Keep doing your work, satiate that lesser urge,” she said.

Kian performed admirably, doing exactly as his Vodyani master desired. He wanted this as well, no doubt, and he wasn’t about to fail his instincts. The desire for survival, and the need to mate. Isyara wondered if he had dreamt about this before. This was only one of many of their meetings, and Isyara was no stranger to the fact that even her holy Cloth resembled that of one of his human females.

Her hand began to rub at her clitoris, gently running motions over it as she indulged in Kian’s twitching erection. As much as Isyara wanted to play leader in this dance, it was clear even to her that she was losing herself in its depths. What would the rest of the church think? Her peoples? It hardly mattered now as she embraced the lust roiling inside her.

“Stroke your erection, show me your true arousal,” she said.

Isyara tilted her head and shifted to his balls, letting those rub against her face. The scent was overwhelming. Kian moved a hand to his penis and began stroking, adding more to the scents assaulting her. She was subsumed into his masculine sensations, finding more arousal in the physical. Kian himself began to lightly moan, clearly enjoying his time with such a proud member of the Vodyani church.

They continued on like this for a while still, with Isyara almost in a haze. Her head idly nuzzled against Kian’s sack as he stroked, a dribble of precum now coating his shaft as he stroked, adding yet another scent to the miasma that invaded her body. Isyara’s hand continued to stroke herself, but her other hand felt lacking, as if it wasn’t taking in all that it could.

Snaking her free hand onto his crotch, Isyara took over Kian’s stroking.

“Consider it a gift, organic. You can delight in”--she groaned--“the firm grasp of a Hierarch.”

As firm as she could manage, with her body surrendering to the pleasure that writhed in her. Really, it wasn’t much of a grip at all, at first. Her fingers slid up and down Kian’s erection, feeling up every inch he had to offer. His soft skin was in stark contrast to just how hard he was. The plush head was another treat, and she indulged it whenever her thumb came near it, rubbing the very tip.

Kian continued to twitch at her touch, perhaps even moreso. Isyara gripped harder, crudely approximating a hole he would want to breed. It was breeding, wasn’t it? For all intents and purposes, they were fucking, however distantly. Isyara shuddered at that thought, slipping a finger between her folds.

Her thoughts crashed against one another as she imagined so many different directions. Isyara recalled the orgasm quite prominently, the explosive finale that made them shoot out their warm semen. She imagined that now, picturing Kian sullying her Cloth by unloading rope after rope onto her. Then her thoughts shifted another way as his erection throbbed in her hand. He could properly fuck her, right here and now. A primitive beast like him claiming her as a mate, no matter how fruitless it was to embed his seed in her.

“A creature like you only desires one thing, doesn’t it?” she said, voice growing huskier by the moment. “All that courses through your mind is a tight, warm hole to find and violate.”

Kian groaned in response, his face racked with pleasure. He certainly understood those words, as his erection twitched again. It was impressive just how eager he was for this.

“I would be… willing to give you this.” Isyara rubbed her clitoris all the faster, enjoying every syllable of her disgusting offer. “All you must do is ask your Hierarch, Kian. Beg for it.”

Isyara may have said that, but it was harder and harder to deny herself the offer. He could have very well demanded the same thing of her, and she may have truly begged, brought herself down to — or even below — his level.

She continued to work at his erection, imagining it push into her. That was the ultimate sin, reducing herself to the simplistic breeding of a form she had long since shed.

“This is all of your own accord,” Kian said. He swallowed. “I can make no demands.”

Damn him. A tease dressed up in diplomatic words. Even though his body was screaming for her touch, Kian managed to maintain his facade of professionalism. She had to wonder if he had been in such situations before, or if his experience with merciless delegations simply carried over. Isyara was frozen all the same, hands still mindlessly working at his shaft.

Isyara simply had to realize she was already below him in this moment. She may have been the Hierarch, leader of an entire proud peoples, but Kian, he was the organic and sharing this sexual experience with her. He had far more recent experience with these desires and could control them better than her. Perhaps it was alluring to spend time with a chosen Vodyani in this way, but he could still maintain control and exert it as needed.

And the more she stroked, the more Isyara found herself teetering on simply asking him. That little slip of control was intoxicating, battering against the side of her ego, but goaded on by the growing arousal inside of her.

“So, you would have me degrade myself,” Isyara said, “is that it?”

Kian simply looked back at her. There was an unspoken acknowledgment. Yes, that is indeed what he wanted. As if this whole situation wasn’t imbued with enough lust, he wanted more out of her. Isyara shifted her attention back down to his penis, already picturing his length sliding between her legs, across her lips. Isyara lightly twitched at the though.

It would have been a losing fight to deny her own thoughts on the matter. Isyara let her essence settle a little more before she made a fool of herself, as impossible as that felt. Never had she felt her body stir so much, all for his crude implement of breeding.

Isyara stood up and settled onto Kian’s lap, still looking directly at him. She glanced down, seeing her glowing entrance settle near his cock.

“I see you’ve made your choice,” Kian said.

“One I do not make lightly,” Isyara replied.

She pressed her hips forward, bringing her folds to his throbbing member. It was supposed to be a show of power, but Isyara herself faltered slightly. Instantly, she felt that warmth brush against her sensitive entrance. For a moment, she wondered if it was designed too sensitively. Her own construction, of course. Encouraging this sin through the might of technology that endowed her with the Cloth that put her on the first step to transcendence.

It was far too much. Isyara had to have this now. The tug of arousal pulled on her form, lifting up her hips and bringing his erection forward. She slid back down with a groan as the tip pressed against her folds. Kian settled his hands on her hips. He wasn’t pulling on her, but their presence encouraged her movements until he was inside of her. Isyara shuddered, pleasure smashing into her body, an ecstasy she had not felt in quite some time.

Kian, on the other hand, let out a low grunt. His body made all those pleasing movements, the jerk of muscles and the heave of lungs, but it seemed to pale in comparison to Isyara’s own reaction. She eased further downward, until the rest of his length settled comfortably inside her. That was it, the ultimate sin was brought forward. She was mating with an organic primitive, or on the precipice of doing so. All the same, a lifetime of doctrine was crushed under the weight of sexual depravity.

“Move for me, Kian. Now,” she said.

A demand both of them craved.

Slowly, Kian began to thrust up into Isyara. She settled her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself for the pleasure she had desired for so long.

“Slower,” she said.

While the pleasure was overwhelming, Isyara’s interest was more on enjoying every inch that slid into her. From the tip all the way to the base, she was relishing every bit of Kian. She could feel the way he twitched and throbbed inside of her, and just how hard his girth was. It was impressive how that flaccid thing had become so rigid. All for her.

Isyara leaned forward and placed her head on Kian’s shoulder, allowing her to simply focus on it all. Now she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and the way it peaked when he thrust into her. It wasn’t simply the sexual that drew her back to Kian’s own fragile form, but the sensation of it all. The vulnerabilities, the simple pleasures, the joy of being alive. She pressed her head lightly against his, soaking up more of Kian’s sensations.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, Hierarch,” Kian said. “Shall I go faster?”

“No,” Isyara replied instantly. She paused. “Remain as-is.” Her voice lowered to something more gentle, relaxed.

There was no point in rushing this moment. Isyara was easing ever deeper into a comfortable warmth. In that moment, her Cloth felt restraining, almost cage-like. She wasn’t allowed to simply relax into Kian, not like he managed to do with her. She could feel his body almost melt into hers, with only the gentle breaths implying any sort of exertion. Her grip on him tightened. She would have to return some of the favor.

Matching his speed, Isyara lightly brought her hips down every time Kian thrust upward, joining their forms all the more. Now she was properly encouraging this sinful reunion. Not a body simply pushed upon her, but her pushing back and indulging him.

They remained like that, in that constant flow of pleasure, for a while longer. Isyara simply took it all in. Who knew when she would get another chance at this touch of delight? It was a shame she couldn’t hold onto him forever and feed into her growing obsession.

“Should you want,” Isyara started, “you may join my side as a lesser, but…” She shuddered. “A lesser but cherished servant.”

Kian’s hands rubbed into Isyara’s Cloth. For a moment, it felt as though she had nerves to excite once more. Just a simple touch that made her crave all over again. It brought with it a pain. She hated the overwhelming lust she had for the original form. That was a sin to turn her back on, and yet she had clawed her way back to it.

And yet another part of Isyara began to grow eager. She quickened her bounce. There was another hole that, for a regular organic being, served no purpose. She had a similar orifice added to her Cloth. It was a step more devious. Not only would she be indulging in a sexual rutting, but her human partner would be more than aware that his efforts are wasted on that hole. It wasn’t for breeding, no, it was simply for a sexual satisfaction.

Isyara leaned back, continuing her bounce, and staring directly at Kian. Her gaze traced across his pleased expression.

“Should you want, there is another part of me to tend to,” she said.

“Should I want, or you?” Kian replied, sighing.

“For a servant, your wit is unrestrained.”

“True, I should adjust myself to your needs as a diplomat might.” His exploring hands reached further around her ass, lightly pulling on a cheek. “I do want that, Hierarch.” Kian’s fingers inched closer to her other hole, only stoking that desire. “Shall we?”

“You’ve exchanged wit for subversion.” Isyara slowed her bouncing, bringing it to a stop. She raised her hips, twitching as she did, feeling his erection leave her body. It was impossible not to look down, to see his manhood covered in her own synthetic fluids. That had been deep inside her. No longer just a pleasurable act buzzing around in her mind, there was visual proof she had trodden on her beliefs.

Kian seemed to understand her awe. He let out a low sigh and grabbed at his member, lightly jerking her fluids along his shaft. Isyara’s grip on him tightened. By the Virtual, she wanted that right back in her. He stroked a while longer before readjusting his member, sliding it down her folds and in-between her cheeks. Isyara felt a wet, warm tip press against her anus. Her body seized.

“Now, Kian.” Isyara grunted. “Do it!”

“Yes, Hierarch.”

That slick erection pressed against Isyara. She steadied herself against the new, alien sensation sliding into her. Her head tilted down, Cloth straining against Kian’s erection. She hissed and forced herself downward, hilting the entire length. She stayed there for a moment, feeling her anus flex around him. The warmth was roiling inside her now.

“Slow, right?” he said.

Isyara gave a simple nod. She was hardly at the reins now. This entire arrangement was now in the hand of the more experienced of the two. Isyara was in a world of pleasure and was bent to the whims of the creature that resided in it day to day.

What little control Isyara had was exemplified the moment Kian began to gyrate his hips. His erection shifted back and forth inside Isyara, making her Cloth shake. The taboo of it all intensified.

“Defiling this holy Cloth with your organic form,” Isyara said. “What would the rest of the Church think of this?” She leaned toward him, voice lowering to a whisper. “The Hierarch meddling in the affairs of the physical.”

Erotic words that made her thoughts all the more erratic.

“I imagine they would be all too disgusted by that fact, Hierarch,” Kian replied.

Isyara ran a thumb along his chin, delighting in the movement of his lips.

“More,” she said.

Kian began to thrust into her, pulling another shudder from Isyara.

“They might find it reprehensible that you would turn your back on them.” He grunted as Isyara began bouncing back.

“More!”

Her body struggled to relax, her asshole’s tight ring still clinging to Kian’s cock as it forced its way in and out of her. Her Cloth seemed so light now, hard to control. Isyara’s head grew limp, now wavering along with their motions.

Raw sex. No longer even lingering under the false hope of breeding. No, Kian was fucking her for the sake of pleasure, violating her body for a chemical dose of life. Isyara leaned forward again with a moan, hips working all the harder. The sound of flesh meeting her Cloth with a slap reverberated through her head.

“Deliver all of your seed into me, organic. Defile your Hierarch. Embed it in her and show her the depths of her depravity!” she hissed.

Kian stopped her hips, arms wrapping around them, then began furiously thrusting into her. Isyara let out a whimper and pushed her head against his, drinking in the warmth of his body. She could no longer form the words necessary, having delved far too into the degeneracy of the situation. Her Cloth sizzled. Another moan escaped her, a desperate plea for all of Kian’s body.

It came suddenly, another shot of heat was dumped into Isyara. She groaned, degenerating back into a whimpering. Kian didn’t stop his thrusting, clearly eager to claim the Hierarch himself. Another shot came, and another. It was impossible to think now. Another bubbling rope pressed into the rest of the seed inside her, settling into her messy hole.

Kian slowed to a stop with a soft groan. Isyara so desperately wanted to sigh, to let all that pleasure out of her, but her synthetic body kept it bottled inside her. She made the sound all the same, relaxing into him. He shifted his hips back, pausing once Isyara brought her hand to his cheek.

“Do not.” Isyara lightly gyrated her hips, stirring his mess. “Not yet.”

The organic weakness was now deep inside Isyara. His seed dribbled down, pooling at the tip of his erection, making her all the warmer. Flittering thoughts of her degeneracy buzzed around in her mind. This was what the Hierarch of the Vodyani was indulging in, among the remains of their original home. She braced herself and raised her hips, allowing that mess to trickle from her body.

Isyara looked down, marveling at Kian’s softening, glistening member. She ran a finger along it, collecting some of the mess. Kian squirmed, but otherwise made no protest. Her thumb and index finger pressed against one another, feeling that degenerate filth seep across her digits.

The pair properly redressed. Kian and Isyara stood side by side, staring out at Tchinomy. The room still faintly smelled of sex, weighing heavy on Isyara’s mind.

“What do you suggest the meeting’s official reason should be?” Kian asked. “I doubt my superiors will settle for anything nebulous.”

“Tell them you have settled disputes over borders, and that you will receive official documentation relating to revised rulings,” Isyara replied.

“That should more than sate them, thank you.”

“Yes, your fine work should echo throughout the United Empire. But don’t consider it a sign of weakness. The Vodyani will press on their holy goal, with or without you.”

“Then I suppose further negotiations will take place?” he asked.

Isyara turned her head toward him.

“I think it’s certain,” she replied.