Judge by Karen Traviss

my own species?
    Esganikan fought down brief panic and smoothed the gloves back into place. As she turned, she saw Shan, paused in mid-step and watching. She was downwind; she had smelled the scent of anxiety. Then the woman looked away and resumed her walk back to the ship.
    I need her cooperation. She’s a matriarch like me, not a gethes. She could probably oust me at any time.
    C’naatat had bought Esganikan time, both to resolve Earth’s problems, and to give her the chance of going home and having a life for herself before she grew too old and lonely in the service of Eqbas Vorhi. Shan would never have made that same choice—not for herself, anyway. But the welfare of her males was a different matter, and that small expedience made her no different and no more moral than Esganikan.
    I know your weakness. You would rather die yourself than face the deaths of those you love, Shan Frankland, because love is rare and new to you.
    Esganikan looked around for Aitassi. The ussissi aide was standing with her snout pointing into the wind, checking what might be out there. “Do we have access to any current Earth data links?”
    The aide trotted back to her, kicking up dry red dust. “We had a link to the climatology database in Kamberra before we embarked. If other public databases use the same basic technology, then we can find a way to access those too.”
    â€œGood,” said Esganikan. “We can’t wait for the gethes to play their information games. Get the data so we can update the computer modeling.”
    Was that deception, or was it a unilateral decision? Guilt was a human emotion, and now Esganikan felt it for what it was. She was troubled by how unsettled Shan made her feel, and returned to the shelter of the ship.
    Around her, the red plain was already dotted with shiplets that had broken away from the main vessel to form a camp of small bubble-like cabins.
    The Skavu had landed too.
    She could see their ships in the distance, still in one piece, waiting for her orders. The command center stood separate from the accommodation modules, and as she walked through the camp she could hear the sound of Earth’s news channels drifting from the hatches. There was panic and speculation, the sound of demands for answers and reassurances.
    When she’d dealt with Umeh, she was remote and insulated. Now she felt part of Earth, among it, and not simply because she was standing here. When she walked into the command center module, she inhaled carefully, trying to sense if Shan had emitted jask, but detected no trace of the matriarchal dominance pheromone that would make her submit to another isan ’s will.
    I never used to be wary of her, not like this.
    But Shan had used jask for her own ends before, and Esganikan couldn’t rely on her instincts now. She no longer had any idea whose instincts they were. What she had in her altered brain was a library, a range of behaviors for any given situation, and she had to choose which was the most effective at the time.
    Gethes rules applied here. Rayat’s solutions might prove to be the best options.
    Esganikan Gai settled down in her cabin, and concentrated on the part of her mind that was Rayat’s, seeking not only guidance, but names.

3
    I don’t think we know the difference between a diplomatic visit and an invasion. If I were you, I would start thinking in terms of Earth being under Eqbas occupation. We certainly have, and we’ll take whatever steps we can to protect ourselves, military or otherwise.
    FEU President Zammett,
to Sinostates Foreign Secretary Evgeny Barsukov
    F’nar, Wess’ej.
    Â 
    â€œYou might have noticed,” Eddie said kindly, “that I’m a few trillion miles out of town right now. I’m not sure how I can help you, Mr. Zammett.”
    If he thought he was getting a Mr. President out of Eddie, he was mistaken. Eddie was celebrating a late mid-life crisis with a little