Adrian and Reya were sitting on one of the couches when Tassie returned from the ship. “Everything’s ready to go,” she said. “Are you really going to make another deal with the Tribunal?” As a soldier, dealing with the Tribunal was both daunting and an impossibility. Their sphere of influence was not to be trifled with. One wrong word, one wrong move, and her career would go up in smoke.

  In spite of Adrian’s earlier calmness, he couldn’t deny his growing nerves at the thought of standing before the Tribunal once again. He hadn’t expected to be contacted by Nessah so soon after giving Tassie permission to tell Irric about their newest discovery.

  Reya distracted him by asking more questions about his studies on Earth, coming to find that Adrian was a great deal more knowledgeable on music than she’d ever imagined. Conversation interrupted, she and Adrian shifted their focus to Tassie.

  “I don’t know,” Adrian replied. “When I asked for replica instruments to be made, I assumed your society had a similar, if not a more advanced, understanding of music than mine. I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Reya said. “It might not be the weapon schematics they were originally hoping to get out of you, but it’s still completely alien knowledge that could help advance our society. There’s no way they’re going to pass up the opportunity to learn it. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  “Speaking to them seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m not so sure,” Adrian admitted. “I don’t think I’m asking for much, considering what I’m planning to teach them. Your military can easily recreate the instruments now that they know how. Giving me a set shouldn’t be a problem. In theory.”

  The front door opened, and Jyn strode into the room with purpose. He spotted Adrian and made his way over. “I’ve been contacted by the General again. The Tribunal is waiting for you. They’re eager to hear what you have to say. It had better be worth their time,” he warned.

  “You mean right now?” Adrian asked in surprise. He’d been under the impression that they’d schedule a meeting at a different time. Perhaps later in the day, to give the Elders time to convene when it suited them.

  Reya moved closer and gave him an encouraging nudge. “It’ll be fine. You know what you’re talking about.” While she was confident things would go well, she couldn’t help but worry. Their relationship with the Tribunal wasn’t the best and she couldn’t bear to have anything happen to him again because one uppity Elder got insulted. Cirrus’ face flashed in her mind.

  Adrian gave a nervous chuckle as he stood up. Rather than follow him out the house like Jyn was expecting, Adrian went into the music room and returned with a small stack of scored paper, a pen, and a guitar. Jyn waited impatiently and looked like he was about to say something before Adrian cut him off. “I need these to properly support my claims to the Tribunal. They’re going to want proof.”

  Jyn scoffed. He was aware of what Adrian wanted to show them but didn’t place much importance on the topic. A small part of him hoped the Tribunal would feel the same and not give in to whatever demands Adrian had. “Maybe prove your other claims first.”

  Adrian shot Jyn a glare. He’d refused to show Jyn how his system for written music worked, knowing full well that Jyn would report the specifics directly to the General and that he’d lose any bargaining power he had. “Let’s get this over with,” he sighed. “The less time I spend with your Tribunal, the better.”

  “Do you have an idea of how long the meeting will last?” Reya asked.

  “Not a clue,” Adrian said with a shrug. “It all depends on them, really. It could be twenty minutes like it could be two hours if they squabble over my demands.”

  “Demands you’re in no position to make,” Jyn huffed. “Now hurry up, we can’t keep the Tribunal waiting any longer.”

  “You might not be able to keep them waiting, but I’m under no obligation to heed their beck and call at the drop of a hat.” Adrian was unaffected by the flat look Jyn shot him and made his way out of the house. Jyn caught up and overtook him once they were outside, leading the way onto the ship and to the same meeting room he’d been taken to when Ava had arrived back into his life.

  Tassie arrived shortly afterwards to securely connect the call to the Tribunal while Adrian settled in. He was instructed to take a seat at the head of the table. She ushered Jyn out of the room and closed the door behind her after wishing Adrian good luck.

  Seven figures appeared around the table, each seated in a chair. The only person to look him directly in the eyes was Kaius, who was seated opposite him at the other end of the table. The other Elders had their heads turned slightly away from him and focused intently on seemingly random points in the room. Adrian guessed that their seating arrangement must not match the one in the room he was in. A tense silence reigned, neither party certain what to say.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Mr. Blackwood,” Kaius started. “It’s nice to see you again.” The small smile that graced his lips did nothing to hide his cold, calculating gaze.

  Adrian tried not to let his nervousness show when he replied. “Likewise,” he said tersely. He still hadn’t forgiven the Tribunal for how he’d been treated after his discovery. Being imprisoned again multiple times after his release, while understandable, remained a bitter pill to swallow. He doubted the people before him understood how deep his fear of being trapped in a cell again went. Nor would they ever truly understand. A sick feeling welled in his chest while he tried to bury his resentment towards them.

  Regardless of how he felt, Adrian knew that it wasn’t the time to let personal issues surface. While he might not answer to them the same way the Tassie and the others did, the Tribunal still remained one top governing bodies of the world he was now living on. He would do well to remember that.

  “We’ve received news that you have never before seen knowledge on a way to write music that you are willing to share with us,” Kaius said, oblivious to Adrian’s inner turmoil. “Is this true?” Cirrus remained silent while the conversation took place.

  Adrian’s heart hammered in his chest to its alien rhythm while the weight Kaius’ scrutinizing gaze bore down on him. He considered himself lucky that not all of the Elders were looking at him directly. “Yes,” he replied evenly. There was no going back now that he was here, and he couldn’t afford to lie. The seasoned politicians before him would see right through him and tear him apart if given the chance.

  “Why have you not shared this knowledge with us sooner?”

  The question gave Adrian pause. “I truly thought you already had a way to write music. When you questioned me last,” he said with obvious disdain, “you wanted nothing to do with my knowledge on music. Told me it was useless. I never thought to share it with you because I knew you didn’t place much value in it. After all, it can’t be used to kill people with.” He didn’t miss Cirrus roll her eyes.

  “We assume you want something in exchange for this knowledge?” Kaius asked with a sharp smile, his question more of a statement.

  “Naturally,” Adrian replied. “Don’t worry, what I want isn’t something that’s difficult to grant. I’m pretty certain you’re getting the better end of this deal.” He cast a furtive glance towards Cirrus, half-expecting her to pass a comment. She drummed her fingers on the table impatiently yet remained silent.

  “And what deal is that?” Kaius asked.

  Adrian took a deep breath and made his demands. “I’ve had the chance to look over the instruments that you’ve recreated for me at my request. While I haven’t had the time to test all of them, the ones I have seen are rather faithful to the originals. They’re something I would expect to find in a shop back on Earth. I would like ownership over the instruments and musical equipment that are now at the safe house, as well as the possibility to procure more should they break. Additionally, I want permission to play and record music while retaining ownership over what I create.”

  Orryn and Cirrus shared a puzzled glance when Adrian didn’t continue. “That’s it?” Cirrus couldn’t help but speak up. “That’s all you want?”

  “I think what my colleague is trying to say,” Orryn interjected smoothly, “is that you’re asking for rather little in exchange for something that has the potential to revolutionize our culture. Why?”

  “Before any of this happened,” Adrian explained, “music was my life. My passion. It feels wrong of me to deny you something I consider so basic.”

  “So we don’t even need to give you anything in the first place?” Cirrus said. “Why bother making any demands at all?”

  Adrian shot her a flat look. “Would you give away valuable information for free?”

  “Information on music isn’t valuable,” Cirrus argued. “It doesn’t do anything to improve the lives of others or keep them safe.”

  “And yet,” Adrian said, cocking an eyebrow, “here I am responding to an emergency summons from the upper echelons of this world’s governing body almost immediately after you learned of what I have to share, claiming it to be revolutionary.”

  Orryn grinned. “He got you there, Cirrus.” She turned towards Kaius. “I think we can all agree that Adrian’s demands are more than reasonable given what he’s offering to teach us. Recreating the instruments he wants is trivial and so is the request to use them at his leisure. I think it’s safe to say that we’re the ones profiting from this exchange.”

  Adrian didn’t miss the other Elders nod their heads in agreement. A brief debate broke out amongst the Tribunal as they analyzed the merits of his proposal. Only Cirrus was against giving in to his demands, claiming that they should be remunerated for the equipment he’d be receiving. She argued that a great deal of resources had been devoted to their creation and that giving them away for free made light of their efforts.

  Her arguments fell on deaf ears. Maraz personally shot each one of them down, leaving Cirrus no recourse. “How much knowledge will we be receiving in exchange?” he asked Adrian. “You’ve yet to tell us the extent of what you’re offering to teach.”

  “An in-depth lesson on musical notation, with a live demonstration,” Adrian replied. “I’d be willing to answer any questions you have pertaining to the subject, within reason. Additionally, I’ll take the time to write out detailed notes for you so that you may have a copy of what you’ll learn today.”

  Kaius spoke up anew. “I believe it is time to confer about whether we’ll accept your proposal. Please remain in the room while we come to a decision.” Adrian barely had time to nod before he found himself alone in the room once again. He didn’t have to wait long for them to reappear. “We accept your proposal on the condition that what you teach us is true,” Kaius announced formally. Cirrus didn’t look pleased at the decision but held her tongue. She’d been outvoted and knew there was nothing she could do. “Since we can’t have you teach our researchers directly you will teach us instead. Once we’re satisfied, you’ll be free to write out your notes. We expect them in a timely manner.”

  “That sounds more than fair,” Adrian said. “I don’t know how long writing down the lesson will take, but hopefully no more than a few days.”

  “That seems reasonable. Whenever you’re ready,” Kaius gestured.

  Adrian began his lesson and forever changed a’vaarian culture.

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