The silence in the dining hall was palpable, broken only by the faint whir of an Ironkin adjusting its stance. All eyes were fixed on Grimnyr Borrak. Julius's words, both bold and direct, hung in the air.
The old Kin slowly set down his drinking horn. His eyes, buried in the folds of a face weathered by centuries, scrutinized Julius with renewed intensity. He had not expected such a frontal proposal, nor that word: "friendship."
"Human... Julius Braveheart," began the Grimnyr, his voice more thoughtful than gravelly. "You ask for much. The charts of the Galactic Core's currents are the lifeblood of our convoys. The locations of rare material deposits are our heritage, what has allowed us to survive where others perished."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"But... you offer something that even our Ancestor Cores struggle to provide: a solution to the slow degeneration of our clone lineages. A promise of stability for our people's future. That is a price beyond measure."
He glanced at his fellow Kin, exchanging silent looks and almost imperceptible nods. The calculation was happening in every mind. Risk versus reward. Wariness versus hope.
Then, the Grimnyr turned back to Julius, and a new, almost warm light shone in his gaze.
"An exchange, then," he said firmly. "Our stellar charts for your genetic expertise. Our prospectors will guide you to the veins of rare metal you seek. And..."
He paused one last time, a smile forming beneath his impressive beard.
"...and we accept your offer of friendship, Julius Braveheart. The Kin are a people of oaths and traditions. An alliance sealed by friendship is stronger than any signature on parchment. We will build this future together."
A murmur of assent, deep and satisfied, ran through the group of Votann. Even the Ironkin seemed to emit a more harmonious hum.
Julius smiled, a genuine smile this time, devoid of strategic coldness. He stood and extended his hand, a universal human gesture.
The Grimnyr looked at the offered hand for a moment, then, with a certain solemnity, grasped Julius's forearm in a powerful, calloused grip—a warrior's and brother's clasp.
"The alliance is sealed, Grimnyr Borrak," declared Julius.
"Sealed in steel and shared blood, Lord Braveheart," replied the Kin.
The dining hall, a moment ago a theater of diplomatic tension, was now the birthplace of a new interstellar friendship. The Braveheart Legion had just gained an invaluable ally, and the Votann, hope for their future. The feast could then truly begin, this time accompanied by the deep laughter of the Kin and animated discussions about the future they would build together.