Free When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony by Chris Kennedy

knows, communication among diplomats involves dialogue: unless the diplomat is willing to give information, it is unlikely that he or she will be able to obtain it.” She smiled, dialing the magnetism up several notches. “Think about the parties you have been to on the diplomatic circuit. The person that everyone always wants to talk to is the one who is interesting to talk with. At the other end of the spectrum is the guy on the couch, alone with his drink. The way people avoid him, you would probably think he has some sort of contagious disease.” She heard several chuckles from the audience. “I see everyone is familiar with that person.” She could see that she scored with that one.
“For a moment,” she continued, “let us try to stand in the shoes of our hypothetical ambassador, so that we may better know the necessary qualities of the person expected to fill the post. On one hand, t he ambassador must convince the other government of the significance of the subject under negotiation and why agreeing to the ambassador’s position is useful to his own country, or planet in this case. Having achieved this, the ambassador then must also convince her own government to go along with it as well. This will be a big job, as she will not have one boss, but all of the nations that are currently represented in this noble body. Good luck with that! I know most of you,” she said with a wink, “and I couldn’t imagine trying to satisfy all of you at once.” The double entendre was intentional, and there was laughter across the auditorium. “What’s even worse is that, in all likelihood, the ambassador will return to find out that she now has even more bosses than when she left.”
She worked the crowd for another 10 minutes, talking about the importance of a number of qualities like discretion, a good sense of humor and the importance of good judgment. By the time she was finished, they were eating out of her hand. A single hand was raised at the end of the applause. As was previously agreed, the German president stood up and formally nominated Cobalt Countess for the post. With the exception of the Russian and French delegates, her appointment was unanimous.
     
     
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Chapter Eight
     

Squad Bay, TSS Vella Gulf , Dark Side of the Moon, May 2, 2020
    “This is the squad bay,” said the leader of the ‘Ground Force,’ Staff Sergeant Jim ‘Shuteye’ Chang, leading a new person into the large open room. The man was wearing a camouflage uniform with a dragon insignia and looked as hard as any of the others currently taking off their gear. Shuteye indicated the men and women stowing their gear. “This is Squad ‘A,’ the ‘Space Force,’ which is just getting back from a mission where they kicked ass and took names.” Several calls of the platoon’s motto, “Gluck ab!” were heard from around the room.
    “This room is similar to the locker room of a major sports team,” Shuteye continued, “in that everyone has a locker.” The newbie could see lockers ringing the walls of the room, with benches next to them. The lockers looked much larger and different than any sports team’s lockers he had seen. In addition to a clothes tree on which the Alpha Squad members were hanging their space suits, there were also clips for harnesses and other apparel, a rack for stowing combat weapons and a variety of drawers to hold the squad members’ other implements of destruction. Shuteye pointed to an empty cubicle. “That one’s yours. You’ll get a suit and powered weapons; you’re also allowed to use any unpowered weapons that you want to bring.”
    “This is Sergeant Alka Zoromski,” Shuteye announced to the squad. “He’s from the Polish Operational Maneuver Response Group, or GROM as you may have heard it called. Sergeant Zoromski, this is Alpha Squad.”
    “Alka, huh?” asked a large man with dark hair.
    “Yes,” replied Zoromski. “It means, ‘Defender of Man.’”
    “Well, you’ll