Cody II, Chapter 6 Cody pressed against the smooth glass of the shuttle window, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed out at the colossal Aurora. The massive spacecraft loomed before them, a true testament to human engineering. Its metal and glass exterior danced with reflections from nearby stars as tiny maintenance pods and cargo haulers flitted about its surface, buzzing with activity like worker ants on a hive. "It's the size of a small moon," Cody murmured, tracing the intricate lines of the ship with his finger on the windowpane. The shuttle made delicate adjustments to its trajectory, aligning itself with the landing platform. He’d read that the ship was so big, it had a light atmosphere that allowed the landing platform, which was the size of a large airport, to be on the outside-he could see people walking around. As they neared, a shimmering wave of ships cascaded into view, enveloping Cody's shuttle in a protective cocoon. They were sleek and angular, each one pulsating with a soft inner light that set them apart from the utilitarian design of human vessels. "What's happening?" Cody asked, his brow creasing in confusion. He turned to face the Draconian pilot, the Third Light of Ara, whose charismatic presence filled the cockpit. "Your escort," came the reply, the pilot's voice smooth and reassuring. Cody's frown deepened. "I don't need an escort." His tone held a hint of stubbornness, a young boy's assertion of independence clashing with the grandeur of the situation unfolding around him. The shuttle's hatch hissed open, and a wave of clamor from alarms engulfed Cody. He pressed his face to the window, eyes wide as Draconian soldiers—clad in black armor that glistened like beetle shells—streamed out of the Ara vessels. The human crews scattered like startled birds, their tools clattering abandoned on the metallic floor. "Are you invading? What the heck, we're here to be friends with humans, and where did the Draconians come from?" Cody demanded, spinning around to confront Firebelly, the First Light of Ara, whose calm was an eerie contrast to the chaos outside. "We are not invading; this is all theater," Firebelly said smoothly, "and it was Captain Archer's plan. The Draconian soldiers are the Tenth Light's followers." Cody's mouth fell open, astonishment freezing his features. "You let that murderer come up here?" "It was necessary," Firebelly maintained, his voice steady as bedrock. "He's the only one among us with followers in physical form. His redemption is tied to his performance today." "You made a deal with the devil!" Cody accused, his voice rising. "Perhaps," conceded Firebelly, unfazed, "but humans are a war-like species. Showing might is the only way they will see us as equals." Cody shook his head, disbelief etched into his furrowed brow, even as he followed his guardians off the ship. He stepped into the corridor, enveloped by the imposing figures of Draconian soldiers who seemed to absorb the light around them. Their presence was a silent storm that swept through the halls of the Aurora. "Prepare for evacuation, but do not engage," blared the announcement overhead, its urgency underscored by the stoic faces of the crew members. They huddled behind crates, makeshift barricades, their fingers tight around rifle grips. Each person was a snapshot of diversity—a woman with scarlet hair shaved at the sides, her arms sleeved with tattoos of galaxies; a man whose dark skin was adorned with luminescent paint, marking him as a navigator; another with cybernetic implants winking along his temples, betraying his role in communications. None of these defenders looked alike, their clothing varying from utilitarian jumpsuits to vests laden with tools and patches of honor. But they shared the same tense determination, ready to defend their ship against what they perceived as an invasion. The Draconian’s paid them no mind, their march methodical and unyielding, passing the humans as if they were mere shadows in their path. Cody felt dwarfed by them, a boy amidst titans. He was led to a building just outside the sporting arena that served as the gathering site for the diplomats. Stepping through the narrow doorframe of the building, Cody entered a dimly lit room that shielded him from the chaos outside. Captain Archer was there, an island of calm in the chaos, his piercing gaze fixed on Cody as if he could see right through him. "Play your part perfectly," Archer began without preamble. His voice was steady, each word deliberate, like he was carving them into stone. "I've never failed to kick-start a failed planetary negotiation." Cody's fists clenched at his sides, anger bunching his shoulders. "This is wrong," he spat out, glaring at the captain. "You're scaring everyone on purpose!" Archer's grin didn't waver. "Of course. And when this ends, you will be nearly untouchable, and the Ara respected." He pushed a paper towards Cody. “This is an arrest warrant for your unprovoked attack against the Mining Corporations.” “An arrest warrant.” Cody's eyes widened, and his lips parted in disbelief. "That isn’t what happened, they attacked us!" he protested. "Lies are often more believable than the truth," said Archer, a nod accompanying his words. "Your role today will make this farce disappear." Instructions followed, a blueprint for deception. Act strong. Look regal. Command attention. The words swirled in Cody's head, a maelstrom of reluctant duty. The Arena loomed, Draconians flanking Cody in rigid formation. Their steps echoed, a drumbeat to an unwelcome destiny. The loudspeakers crackled to life, announcing him with grandeur and pomp that was yet another lie. "His Highness, The First Son of Ara, Commander of the Ara Fleet, Sword and Shield of Ara, Defender of the innocent, and Protector of the Lights of Creation." Cody spun around, glaring at Captain Archer. “You made those up!” Captain Archer's eyebrow arched, a challenge in his gaze. "Cody, you are not the first prince I have created. Now go. Be what I made you," he said with a hint of pride. Cody's heart pounded. He wasn't a prince. He was just a kid with a toy dragon he could talk to in his pocket. But he had to walk forward, had to face the sea of faces waiting in the Arena. It was all theater, after all—wasn't it? Cody's breath hitched as he swiveled back around, the weight of fabricated titles heavy on his shoulders. His gaze fell to a maze of shadows and light. He didn't see the bold commander they proclaimed him to be; instead, he was a boy with trembling legs that refused to obey him and take a step forward. "Can't..." The word was a whisper, a plea for this all to be some strange dream. Archer's eyes slid shut, his face serene amidst the chaos of Cody's doubts. Around him, silence blossomed as if time itself had been ensnared by the captain's will. In that hushed void where all universes converged, a figure shimmered into existence—a beacon of crystal-blue energy, pulsing with life and light. "It is time," came Archer's voice, resonant and sure. The First Light, luminous and vast, hovered with an aura of restrained power. "I told Cody I would never manipulate him like this," it said, a voice like the wind across a calm sea, both gentle and unyielding. "Your son needs a nudge," Archer implored, arms wide as if embracing the cosmos itself. "He needs your guiding light." A surge of red tinted the First Light's tendrils, a flicker of parental fury. "Harm to him, and I hold you responsible." With a motion swift and forceful, the entity pushed—sending Archer reeling back to reality. Captain Archer staggered, hand clutched to his chest where the impact resonated, a reminder of the tightrope he walked between salvation and destruction. “So much for a non-violent species,” he whispered to himself, or was it that The First Light was angry that Archer had so easily seen through the First Light’s lies. He had seen the pulsing light emanating from Cody, there was still much to learn about Cody’s mysterious birth. Was Cody human, or Ara in human form?” Archer watched as Cody’s posture straightened, as confidence seeped into the boy. Yes, his true father’s touch was gently encouraging the boy. A warmth enveloped Cody. It started in his chest, spreading like sunlight chasing away dawn's chill. He straightened, feeling suddenly grounded, the quivering in his knees stilled by an unseen strength. His crimson eyes now glowing with resolve. "I can do this," Cody murmured, conviction blossoming within. The Arena's archway loomed ahead, a gate to the future of the Ara and Humans. With newfound determination, Cody stepped forward. Every stride carried the lessons of the First Light—the importance of words over warfare, of understanding over ultimatums. He emerged into the Arena, not as the boy who played with toy dragons, but as the mediator destined to weave peace through tangled conflicts. "Ready," he whispered to himself, clutching the memory of his beloved toy dragon close to his heart, a symbol of the innocence he represented and the colossal task that lay before him. The human’s Chief Diplomat stood watching as the young Draconian figure approached. The negotiations had failed, and the Ara was sending their First Son, the very boy that had so easily crushed the battle fleet of the Mining Corporations. Was it to be war? Was the fate of the galaxy to be decided by a dragon-child? Cody's gaze swept across the negotiation table, where a scattering of colorful children's toys lay amidst the serious paraphernalia of intergalactic diplomacy. The sight was incongruous, almost comical against the backdrop of the austere of the diplomatic enclave. The Sixth Light of Ara hovered above the negotiation table with an air of solemnity, his form shimmering like a mirage, his countenance betraying the weight of failure. "The humans think we are but children and present us with toys to insult us," the Sixth Light, Chief Diplomat of the Ara, echoed in Cody’s mind. Cody frowned, the warmth of confidence from before now mixing with confusion. He turned toward the Human’s Chief Diplomat, a figure of authority who stood observing the scene with a clinical eye. "Why are these toys here?" Cody asked, his voice carrying a straightforward curiosity that belied the depth of his role in this moment. The man met Cody's question with a look that held an ocean of unspoken words, and the fragility of peace hanging delicately in the balance. Cody stood strong as the man in his uniform crisp and voice spoke, the eyes of the entire galaxy on them. "We were told they require a surrogate body, like a toy, to be able to communicate with us," he explained. "Children from all across the galaxy have sent these toys for them to choose from, yet they have cast disdain for the gifts given, and for our children that gave them." Understanding dawned on Cody's face, mingling with a spark of determination. He reached out and picked up a plush bear, its fur soft beneath his touch. The name 'Thomas Ethan' was scrawled along the bear's tag in permanent ink. Holding it gently, Cody looked into the camera, addressing the void beyond the walls. "Thomas Ethan, I thank you for this gift of peace you have sent." He set the bear down and sifted through the colorful pile of toys, each one adorned with a different name. "Jennifer Toth, I thank you for this gift of peace," he said, lifting a small, green long-necked dinosaur to his chest. His hands moved from toy to toy, his voice steady as he honored each child who had sent a hopeful symbol of friendship. With every name he read, there was an echo of gratitude that filled the arena, bridging galaxies between young hearts and ancient beings. Cody finished the list, then turned to face the gathering directly, a serious look etched onto his youthful features. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his toy dragon, its plastic scales glimmering faintly in the light. "Thank you all for giving us these precious gifts," he said, his voice tinged with emotion. "The Ara children do not have toys, and do not understand the meaning of toys. These innocent gifts of hope and peace you gave us will be sent down to the planet, and perhaps the Ara children will learn how precious a toy can be to a child." He paused, clutching the toy dragon closer, the creature's wings spread wide as if ready to take flight. "The confusion today is not anyone's fault but mine." His confession was heartfelt, his crimson eyes flickering with the earnestness of his words. "I only played with these," he continued, holding the dragon aloft for all to see. "All the other toys my parents gave me, I shoved under my bed and never touched them." Cody's gaze swept across the silent onlookers, each waiting to hear the next piece of his story. "I was all the Ara had to observe to understand humans, and I set a bad example, acting like a spoiled brat, tossing aside toys my parents gave me out of love." His shoulders slumped slightly, but his voice didn't waver. "And so, the Ara thought it meant any other toy but this one was an insult. I am ashamed of my behavior and promise to be a better example of humanity." In that moment, with the toy dragon held close, Cody embodied not just the First Son of Ara but also the voice of every child looking to make right a simple misunderstanding—a bridge between worlds built not of politics and power, but of innocence and play. The stillness of the negotiation room was abruptly broken as a small figure on the table stirred. A doll with button eyes stood up in one fluid motion. Cody's eyes widened as the doll turned to face him, a voice emanating from its soft form with a warmth that felt at odds with its inanimate nature. The doll glowed a soft light as it stood. "Please understand, Cody, our actions were not meant to burden you," the toy said, its voice tinged with regret. "We cherished the presence of your dragon toys, and the way you played with them, inventing entire adventures for them. It lead us to nudge you towards them alone, and away from the others. Our guidance was flawed." Cody's chest swelled with an odd mixture of relief and guilt as the toy continued, "We apologize for this cultural misstep. May we proceed with the negotiations?" The human’s Chief Diplomat’s face etched with a newfound comprehension. "I, too, must express my regrets," he said, smoothing his uniform as if it would help restore order to the disrupted meeting. "The notion that you were mocking our children was erroneous on my part." The man glanced briefly at Cody before addressing the cameras that watched intently, broadcasting the unfolding events to the wider galaxy. "Should the Ara find dragons agreeable, I implore any who can hear me—share with us these symbols of unity. We will recess now and meet again in three weeks to recover from this unfortunate misunderstanding." **** Three weeks later Cody's eyes widened at the sight before him. The negotiating table, once a battleground of misunderstanding and tension, now overflowed with a sea of toy dragons in every color and size imaginable. They blanketed the surface like a vibrant tapestry woven from the goodwill of children galaxy-wide. The air hummed with anticipation as the delegates assembled, the room alive with a sense of unity that had been absent weeks prior. The buzz of excited chatter filled Cody's ears as he sifted through the dragons, each one a gift from a hopeful heart. He picked up a small emerald-green dragon, its wings neatly stitched and eyes glinting with plastic shine. A name tag dangled from its claw: "To the Ara, from Miguel." Cody ran his fingers over the rough fabric, feeling the care invested in every thread. "Look at this one!" a voice called out, pulling Cody's attention to one of the children invited to represent the children of the galaxy that had sent the gifts. The boy was holding aloft a plump, fire-red dragon plushie, its belly stuffed to roundness. Laughter rippled through the arena at the sight, a sound both sweet and disarming. "Never seen so many dragons," Cody murmured, half to himself, half to the Ara delegates who were observing the scene with an air of bemused curiosity. It was hard to reconcile these creatures of myth and legend, now symbols of peace, with the toys he'd clung to as a child. "Each one carries a message, doesn't it?" Cody said, grasping the weight of what was transpiring. These aren’t just toys; they are emblems of a shared future, tokens of trust across star systems. His chest swelled with a mix of pride and responsibility—as if by accepting these dragons, he was vowing to safeguard the innocence they represented. "Yes, First Son," replied the Sixth Light of Ara with a gentle nod. "They are ambassadors of hope, much like yourself." As Cody glanced around the arena, he caught glimpses of the Ara inspecting the dragons, their ethereal forms bending cautiously to inspect the playthings. Some lifted the toys with delicate tendrils of light, while others allowed their presence to hover around a dragon, animating it with a soft glow. The human Chief Diplomat, dressed in a sharp black suit, stepped up to the podium and tapped the microphone. “May I have your attention,” his voice boomed through the arena. “I am pleased to announce that our efforts on the planet Ara have been successful. Thanks to Cody's generous donation of toys, we have established a strong connection with the Ara people. The pre-agreement negotiations have resulted in a hyper-space communications facility being built on their planet, allowing the children of Ara to video conference with our own young citizens. And as a symbol of friendship, we will be sending these beautifully crafted dragons to the children of Ara.” As he spoke, he gestured towards the display of colorful dragons on the table. “We hope this will be the beginning of meaningful friendships between our worlds.” As the Chief Diplomat stood on stage, the roar of applause reverberated through the arena, echoing off the walls and filling every corner. Finally, the crowd quieted down, and the Chief Diplomat continued his speech. "For the esteemed Ara delegation, the children of planet Earth wanted to express themselves in a special way. They pooled their resources and commissioned these pieces from our most skilled artists." With a grand gesture, the Chief Diplomat motioned towards the entrance tunnel. Six utility carts slowly rolled out, each carrying a man-sized dragon sculpture. The Sixth Light of Ara glided across the arena, his glow pulsing with excitement. He circled around one of the dragons, then his light merged with it. In an instant, the plastic figure came to life and appeared so realistic that it could have been mistaken for a real dragon. The Sixth Light gracefully returned to the stage and extended a clawed hand towards the human Chief Diplomat. Cody's lips stretched into a wide grin as he watched Ara and Human grasp hands in a firm handshake. As they finished, Cody couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement at the responsibility now resting on his young shoulders. But as he scanned all the hopeful faces gathered, he felt a deep warmth spread through his body, a reassurance from the powerful beings who had chosen him to lead.