Saoirse, despite her simmering unease, had been excited to meet humanity. 

Petra offered little of what she’d expected.

Her research had prepared her for someone with complex capacity for emotions. For someone who prioritized — if not the good of mankind, then at least the good of those closest to them. Petra professed to serve her own self-interest, yet she sat so comfortably in the study of a potential foe, unburdened by any of the markers of the fight or flight Saoirse had studied.

She didn’t mention the safety of loved ones, or fear for the well-being of her planet.

Instead, she easily engaged in cerebral sparring with who had to be the first alien individual she’d ever encountered. Her big, shiny eyes offered no fear or emotion at all — glassy mirrors that reflected back Saoirse’s own growing discomfort.

She only had one option left. So she'd slid the vial out of her braid.

“We do have things you’ll find appealing. Our medicine, our beauty products, everything — they far surpass your species. We can help you remain young and marketable. We can help you perfect your voice. We can bring you even more of the fame you seem hungry for. We just need your cooperation.”

“With what?” Petra asked, tilting her head with almost preternatural grace. “I’ll make my decision once I know the stakes and not a moment before.”

“Diplomacy.” 

Petra’s pillowy lips stretched into an eerie imitation of a smile. “If you were looking for diplomacy you might’ve selected one of the thousands of humans whose chosen vocation matches your goals.”

Saoirse furrowed her brow. “National diplomats don’t have the ear of everyday people. They can only persuade their own citizens. You possess global reach.”

Petra giggled, something sharp and unsettling. “Sweetheart, I’m a popstar. What authority are the leaders on Earth going to give me?”

Saorise’s lips curled into a frown. “They will accept your position if we demand it. They are in no position to be picky. We crave peace, but it is not the only way we can succeed in our goals.”

That wasn’t true. Saorise needed Earth and she needed it whole. It was what her parents demanded.

Petra’s passive expression morphed into something darker. Something teasing. “So you’re willing to do what it takes, then, Queenie? Even if it someone gets hurt?”

Saorise knew the nickname was meant to be pejorative. She’d long since passed the days when it came close to riling her. “I am willing to do what it takes to accomplish my goals.”

Petra reached forward, slender hands twisting like she was seeking the vial in Saorise’s grasp. Instinctively, Saorise caught Petra’s wrists, slamming them onto the table and earning a sharp inhale of surprise. Amazingly, Petra began that same manic giggle, the skin around her wrists flushing a dark pink when Saorise flexed her gloved fingers.

“Alright, alright, color me interested,” she said, with a tip of her delicate chin. “You want diplomacy, I can do that for you. But I don’t come cheap, and I don’t come easy. Why don’t you spend the day on planet Earth with me, hmm?” Her smile was bright, white and fraudulent. “I’ll show you what I already have, and you can craft your offer accordingly.”