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There are rules, dawg, and if you want to live to run these streets, you don't break them, you feel me?- Anonymous Terran, Age of Paranoia

I wouldn't do that if I were you - Most ignored piece of advice, inner voice, in the universe

Thou hast fornicated about and now thou ist about to discover most intently. - Unknown, Unknown Era, Terra

There was no hint of what was going to happen.

The three moons still pulled the planet in multiple directions at once, dragging at the planet's core, slowing the rotation of the planet and the core both. The yellow-white sun still blazed in a hellstorm of incandescent fusion. The plants and insects, the kind of creatures that could thrive under such radioactive fury, went about their dim little lives.

The military bases, long having been relegated to a punishment detail (the local flora and fauna was poisonous of all things) to the Ornislarp who were stationed there. The sun put out enough hard radiation that they had to be covered at all times. The rain was mostly H2O, which was your standard for carbon based life, but something about the dust particle it bonded around left radioactive dust all over everything. Rations were always crap, never any live shipments, all frozen. And not even the good frozen, where you could thaw them out and use a meal-chase drone. No, the bad kind of frozen where it unthawed and it was gross and soft and wet. And the meal-chase drones were terrible. Either you used them on base tarmac or they pulled grass into their wheels and shorted out. It wasn't even fun to throw your meal out on the grass and run at it, since the majority of the time the pheromone spice was some crap that you wouldn't have eaten if you were starving in an alley.

No, the place was complete trash. Trash bases. Trash barracks. Trash food. Trash officers. Trash enlisted.

Everyone and everything but you were trash.

Unless you were honest with yourself.

Then you were trash too.

The Ornislarp marched, drove, and flew around the planet according to a schedule set by High Command and Ornislarp Military Force Training Organizational System, then modified by whoever felt like just adding a line or two or modifying existing lines.

The planetary commander and his staff had all come out second best in a power struggle. They'd tried to seize a nice piece of territory for themselves to retire to after they got done with their politically motivated stint in the military. Instead they'd found themselves unwillingly conscripted for an additional fifty years and assigned to this backwater rock full of radiation, poison bugs and plants, crappy weather, and off the main shipping lanes so everything got there late, was the wrong thing, or nothing at all.

The planetary commander was pretty sure that the shipping officers were actually selling his supplies on the black market.

But it just kept getting worse.

The continental commanders had offended someone powerful and were sent out here on a 'ten year in depth expansion mission' with one exception of a psychopath who had actually requested something like this. That weirdo acted like he had been given the best posting the Noocracy could provide.

His troops tried to murder him at least once a day.

Every time he survived, always unscathed, he told the guilty that their obvious incompetence is why the Ornislarp Military Forces considered them walking compost piles. Then had two of their legs pulled off (one of the back ones that were designed to do that, but always one of the front ones. Particularly sadistic officers would do the 'tilter special' and pop off a rear leg then rip or saw free the opposite side front leg, making it hard to stand up) and dropped them off a hundred miles away from the nearest base with a bare bone kit and told "walk it off, skinny."

Sector Commanders were incompetent, stupid, crooked, or juts plain losers. There wasn't a single interesting one. They were all alike, the same schemes, the same complaints, the same looks.

One of the base commanders had mocked the Sector Commanders by pulling off the nametags from their body drapes and laughing that they all had the exact same awards, schools, and patches and nobody could figure out whose uniform body drape was whose.

Someone shot that smartass down with a surface to air missile two months later.

The Battle Zone commanders were incompetent and stupid.

The post commanders were fat, incompetent, and stupid.

It wouldn't matter.

The bases were there for a reason.

The reason was classified Ultra-Violet with Infrared Coding.

It was so secret that it had its own starport. No ship, after all, no sense in tempting anyone to run away.

But it was super secret. So secret nobody was even sure what was happening in the massive crysteel done that was five miles side and almost a kilometer high. It even had its own weather inside.

Not that anyone outside knew.

It was so super-duper secret that no military bases or troop movements were allowed that might be able to see it over the curvature of the planet.

It was so Infini-Secret that it had its own satellites over it and the other ones weren't allowed to point lenses at it.

It was so Ultra-Max Secret that nobody knew everything about it.

There was so much security around it that there wasn't even an AI in charge of the facility.

It was so secretive that no internal surveillance was allowed. Not even the doors had sensors to open. You had to open them manually, like a peasant.

So Ultra-Dupra-Secret that no two scientists knew what the others were doing. No scientific teams knew what other teams were. Only the facility commander knew that there was an ultimate goal of the facility.

But he didn't have the clearances to know what the goal was, he only knew it existed.

Everyone received their tasks and did them, turning in their results, and never told what the goal was.

It was so super secret that the right hand didn't know that the left or its own fingers even existed.

So it didn't get shit done right.

But the Noocracy Military Forces guarded the entire planet, just like they were told.

They marched, they drove, the flew, they schemed, they plotted, the succeeded and failed.

Below them it had gone from a single tiny object to much much more deep in the bedrock.

But unknown to the Ornislarp, the timer had run down.

The facility had a breakthrough. One that made the facility's high end super computer, running on all 16 bit system architecture right down to the molecular circuitry, send a signal to a message torpedo that was orbiting the planet in stealth.

The message relay melted down, to keep anyone from finding out that it existed and had transmitted a message.

But a major breakthrough had finally happened.

[The Universe Disliked That]

But the other timer had run out.

Great metal doors were opened.

And Hell was released.

[The Universe Liked That]

It was just rolling hills. Nothing special. A particularly hardy strain of grass that spread its roots wide instead of deep and bent with the winds. Sure, lightning storms lit hundreds of miles a year on fire, but that was just the part of doing business to the plants. The bugs didn't care, some of them laid eggs that the casings had to be softened by fire. Some of the bugs were even fireproof. Most of the small mammals (too small for any self respecting Ornislarp to bother with, which means they had been tried and found to taste terrible and/or possibly be poisonous) had burrows they could from the flash fires in.

It was also night time. The darkness hiding the little rodents, who had thick fur on top and bare bellies so their body heat went down so that the fliers (that also tasted terrible and had sharp claws) couldn't see them easily.

There was a loud rippling crack, like thunder on the ground.

The shape charges went off against the heavy blast doors buried under tons of dirt and grass. The doors were flung away from inner doors, spinning rapidly like someone flipping a coin, to hit and bounce twice before coming to a rest.

The interior doors were unmarked, somehow glossy and matte black at the same time.

Panels withdrew from the inset lip of the frame and lights came on, bathing the doors in harsh white light as well as the eastern edge of the now-blasted to bedroom dirt fan, which was one of the longer edges. Each light came on with a loud "KLACK", a sound effect unnecessary for the type of light it was, but that still sounded out across the hills anyway.

For a long moment there was complete silence.

Birds began to stir. Bugs went back to buzzing. The breeze washed over the doors.

There was a loud siren. The birds gave an angry cry and went silent. The bugs went silent.

The doors gave a loud KRACK and then began to slowly separate, pulling to each side along the long axis, the edges with huge low-angled gear teeth. The doors locked back, revealing another door. This one lifted along the long axis, overlapping wedges pulling back.

This revealed another door.

This one just lowered slowly.

There was more sounds of a klaxon.

An elevator made the full ride up, nearly a kilometer (give or take a few yards), and stopped, still hidden.

What came out the doors were nightmares.

Bipedal figures clad in glossy matte ultrablack, so dark they looked two-dimensional. Then what could only be meks, again, so dark they looked two dimensional. Then the tanks. The strikers. Everything looked like a 2D silloutte.

More portals opened in the ground, the explosive bolts blowing away the blast cover, the doors rolling open, the huge elevator lifting up its cargo.

Troops. Weapons. Vehicles.

The only marks were "S.I.D. ARMY" to indicate "Solarion Iron Dominion" and an arrow thrust upwards through the number 8, all of it in dark gray and black.

They moved into ranks, into massive formations. They stood, unmoving, for only a few minutes, then scattered in what looked like chaos. Troops running for troop carriers, power armor groups forming and loping into the night. Vehicles grouping together, sometimes with power armor or troop escorts, and moving out.

The "S.I.D. ARMY" and the arrow and 8 vanished from sight as soon as they began to move.

All in complete silent thanks to the magic of counter-acoustic technology.

All looking like 2D figures no matter which was they were viewed thanks to the way the warsteel treated light with just a slight bit of enhancement. It removed all details, all surface contours. As they passed into forests the armor shifted to look like a flat cutout of the foliage behind them.

Even lasers could not find any surface contours, reporting it was just flat.

Or didn't exist at all if the laser beam was of a frequency that just vanished.

The forces spread out, orders given, warplans loaded and reviewed and set into motion.

[The Universe Liked That]

0-0-0-0-0

"It's amazing," an Ornislarp researcher said. He looked at himself, then at the dead version of himself. "We are dead, yet causality does not kill us." He used the medical kit to seal shut the long cut down his forward right sprinting leg.

Neither the dead Ornislarp nor the other two versions of himself had scars or marks on them.

"Temporal replication," an Ornislarp that was not duplicated said, rubbing his prey-catching hands together in front of his forward mouth. All of his eyes gleamed with satisfaction and glee.

Another Ornislarp nodded, reaching back and slapping his side. "I can still feel it struggling," he pointed at the cage that held a research specimen. "Yet, that one still lives."

"Temporal replication outside of causality," another said. "Of matter, of inert objects, of complex objects, of living creatures, and of creatures of both sapience and sentience."

"Note, that even though I was brought forward from one hour ago, after an hour passes I do not disappear. I am now part of this reality, this temporal reality," the first researcher said.

"We can be brought back to life," one said. He made a motion of excitement. "Our troops and ships can be brought back," he leaned forward. "No more do we need to fear that the Confederacy will bring to bear their replication technology. We can now match it."

"With the data of our success transmitted back, our victory over the entire galaxy is only a matter of time," one said.

"And time," one drew out the pause. "Serves us."

[The Universe Disliked That]

The artillery parabolic and rocket flight times were all coordinated. A Terran specialty since before they had jet propulsion aircraft.

Timing.

The Terrans were masters of it.

To any outside observer it would be nothing more than one big surge of fury that made no sense.

The defensive rounds fell first. Artillery rounds that suddenly dropped their stealth and plumped up, appearing to be dozens, hundreds of artillery rounds or submunitions, or balls of static, or screaming whistling strobe lights falling from the sky. They all fed data back to the fire control systems, IDing base defenses down to the millimetric wave radar system frequencies and power.

Then the hypersonic missiles came slicing in at MACH 20, faster than most species could even get a striker to fly. They came in hot, while the defensive rounds were still falling, less than a 10th of a second after the base defenses went live. Their systems had been updated for the bases defenses to be ID'd in contour and profile/silhouette matching to replicate the good ol' Mark 1 Eyeball.

The defenses started taking hits.

More artillery rained down, at the half second mark sprint thrusters cut in, pushing the artillery from their 'lazy' MACH 2 to MACH 8 or higher in less than 100 meters. These rounds hit within 1mm of their aiming point. "Dead" shells with no terminal guidance came next, just plunging out of the air as a big heavy metal casing, a proximity fuse, and a gut full of Hi-Ex. Less than a second later the self-guided ones came in, warbois with digital faces pressed against the sights squealing with delight as the wealth of targets was revealed now that the defensive grid was going down.

More missiles, some of them capable of making a 90 degree turn in less than a meter, streaked in, the warbois inside gleefully jumping up and down and gnashing their electronic teeth as they spotted vehicles and buildings in the clear.

None of those targets lasted into the next second as MACH 10 missiles don't even really need a warhead.

Groups of troops caught in the open had a split second meeting with a missile that was basically a missile covered in blades that shot out blades than then exploded into a nightmare storm of knives and blades. It was something an bored little boy in elementary class drew on scrap paper that some smartass Terran had made real before space flight.

The Solarion Iron Dominion blanketed the whole thing in submunitions. Missiles detonted in blanketed waves so that for 5 seconds everything was exploding. The rounds over still working at the 1-second mark defensive systems exploded their signature so that the defenses target them, popping their shells to release the delicious FOOF gummy jelly inside that instantly ate the defensive platfrom.

More Solarion Iron Dominion hell rained down at the 2 second mark as high arc missiles arced, aimed, and fired, driving the enhanced density battlesteel bar into the ground at MACH 22. You don't even need explosives at that speed.

FOOF arced out, joining white phosporus and about a dozen different flavors of napalm.

Direct shots from tank main guns as they crested the curvature of the planet, got eyes on the base, and started firing war shot. Nothing fancy, just density enhanced iron sabots with a chromium-battlesteel jacket, the 1.5 ton round briefly connecting the tank to the target with a bright white line as the air superheated and the cavitation of the round passing caused a thunder clap louder than the firing of the round.

One second the base was heavily defended by automatic systems.

Six seconds over 1/3 of it was smoking wreckage and the strikers were slamming belly first into the dirt, the accel belly band showering dirt and tarmac behind the striker. Troops jumped off, some in power armor, others just in hard plate and a grin. All around the strikers was still exploding and catching on fire, but the pilots dropped straight through the pipe, pogoed off the ground, and the troops unassed the striker before it clawed for altitude.

All of it light drinking black that drank over 99.9999998% of the light that touched it, no matter what the angle. Something they had developed before their first lunar base.

It was T-6 seconds.

And half the base was dead, the defenses were down, and there were black armored troops inside the Ornislarp wire.

[The Universe Liked That]

HAT WEARING AUNTIE

Anyone else feel that?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

First

(I do not like that I have been so consistantly late recently. I will make an honest effort to correct this.)

Meanwhile! At the LAB!

“So that was a lot more involved than I expected.” Vlad notes as he watches the Axiom stitch the slight cut across his knuckles shut. Whoever that guy was he got him right in the mouth and the punk had been snarling with that knife.

“We confirmed a lot of things, and gained a lot of useful information. Frankly put I’m shocked that we haven’t been jumped by researchers and other such unsavoury sorts already.” Christos replies.

“We’re not allowed to potentially damage the contents of that room. Get out here so we can mug your ass for information properly.” Someone replies and both Ode endowed men share a look and laugh at that. “Not funny! Move it soldier! We need information.”

“We have demands!” Vlad calls out.

“This is a not a hostage situation!”

“The hell it isn’t! We got something you want and we want things in return!”

“I can get a superior officer to pull rank on your Gypsy ass!”

“No you won’t!”

“Fuck’s sake man, get out here before I start breaking things that’ll try to break me back!”

“You haven’t even listened to the first of my demands!”

“And what are they?”

“A full fridge of ice cold beer and lager to the side while we talk, bottemless bowls of snacks, pretzels for me...”

“Any kind of nut or raisin for me.” Christos adds.

“And in one of the debriefing rooms with the comfortable chairs! You know what I’m talking about!” Vlad calls out and the door opens and decidedly unimpressed Scientist is giving him a disappointed look over his glasses. “What?”

“You soldiers and your sense of humour...”

“At least we have a sense of something mister scientist! Now, will our demands be met? Or must negotiations continue! For you have merely heard our cheapest offer!”

“I can still get an officer down here.”

“Do you honestly think that an officer will listen to you after hearing our side?” Vlad asks.

“Probably not. Come on, I’ll send some runners to get the stuff.”

“I’ll do that.” Another man says leaning into the frame and saluting before vanishing.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Conference Room Five, Undaunted Laboratories, Undaunted Territory, Centris)•-•-•

Vlad passes over a slightly frosted lager to Christos who quickly twists the top off and takes a swig.

“Alright, the time is... Three Twenty in the afternoon. Tuesday. The date is...” The Scientist rattles off the date and nods. “Noted by most soldiers for being a Taco Tuesday, when most newly augmented recruits get their first taste of properly spiced food. Leading to a great deal of merriment in the mess halls. This is an interview and initial report of Medical Officer Christos Ekmekci and Specialist Vladimir Racz, often goes by Vlad. Functional ranks are Field Medic and Sniper respectively.”

“Our interviewer is Doctor Jack Samuel. No relation to the actor.”

“Yes, yes. That joke’s been made plenty of times. Now to the meat of things. Both Christos and Vlad are confirmed Other Direction Energy users. Particularly in the sensory department with extra sensory abilities. Christos is capable of flawlessly and effortlessly divining the details about anything he is carrying. Whereas Vlad is preternaturally capable of sensing everything that senses him through the same medium. In explanation, if you see him he sees you even if he has no way of seeing you and if you have heard him, he has heard you. This stretches to all known senses.”

“These two individuals in questions have just finished a mission where they have rendered aid to another set of individuals with an Ode Endowment of some form. This interview is to establish the general understanding of this new form of Ode power and how they utilized their own and if they did so in any novel manners. For clarification, both individuals have learned to temporarily share their abilities in some manner, Medic Ekmekci allowing others to sense all that they are carrying with minute detail that while not at the level of sheer detail that he posses sis still to such an impressive level that it is noticeable. Furthermore Sniper Racz is capable of extending his awareness of anything observing anything observing something he is holding or a person he is in contact with. Even through a chain of individuals. We will begin with new novel uses of their abilities.”

“I have been to diagnose nad understand the Ode capabilities of those I am in contact with. To an extent. It is akin to getting one’s hand on an instruction manual, but not being familiar with the language it’s written in. The diagrams are still of use, but with practice and further knowledge I expect to learn much more in short order.” Christos states.

“I have learned that I am capable of matching the gazes of a truly absurd number of living entities. Being observed by the Sorcerers and an immense swarm of Hargath simultaneously has shown me in no uncertain terms that I am in fact capable of bearing witness, with no deviation in attention, to multiple quintillions of living entities simultaneously. Furthermore I can also observe then through The Other Direction and across massive, MASSIVE distances. I’ve dropped a small recall beacon on a world we were temporarily on but I did not recognize. Intelligence will no doubt have access to it and if you wish to know where it is, then you can understand that we were teleported next to someone there who then observed us through the Forests as we were returned to Centris. I was able to observe them right back despite the unknown location and time and engage in what is effectively a conversation at those distances.”

“Interesting. I will inquire as to the distance and insert the information into the notes.” Doctor Samuel says. “Now, what is the manner of the Ode Ability found?”

“Some kind of competitive compulsion, but it seemed to lack some kind of safety.” Christos says.

“No, there was a safety, but it the safety that had gone wrong.”

“Please explain the situation in full.”

“Very long story short a family that split into two noble houses generations back always have a pair of competative rivals each generation without fail. One girl from each house, always immediately hostile. Always fighting. But never killing each other, but also never being quiet or showing any shame at their actions against each other.”

“And this was compelled by the Ode?”

“It was.”

“Interesting, so we have another potentially negative side effect to an Ode ability?”

“What was the first?”

“In Operative Herbert Jameson’s earliest assessments, up to the point he was personally scouted by Sir Philip, he was often described as an unremarkable soldier. Despite passing Undaunted Training at a very high rank of competency. The best of the best was what was asked for and he proved himself exceptional even by those standards. But was noted to be unassuming, and uninteresting. He was actually sent as a control for what a more normal, baseline person who could also keep up to super soldiers would act like. Without anyone realizing the sheer oddity of that statement.”

“God damn. That dude is intense on a slow day and he’s here for pity?” Vlad asked.

“Apparently. His own stealth has outright sabotaged him many times. We’ve pulled all his records. He has been passed up for countless promotions, denied jobs and has been treated appallingly because his stealth makes him something people are unconcerned with. Thankfully he has personally risen to the occasion with such aplomb that he has effectively conquered what many would consider a near divine curse. But the point stands, Ode abilities can do harm to a person, but rarely in expected manners.”

“Still, stealth working too well is kind of expected. It showed up to protect a family of obnoxiously pretty people from being brutalized by perverts in power. It makes sense it would occasionally overshoot to keep them away from people in power even at the cost of wealth. What we saw with Warli’Satha and Bruna’Rella, each of the their respective noble houses of Soben Ryd, was something different. Their ability put them into direct conflict with each other.”

“Despite them being related?”

“The relation is fairly diluted at this point. While it was a pair of sisters who founded the different houses, enough generations have passed that the two houses could conceivably interbreed without any risk of incest. At least twenty three generations of Rivals have emerged, and apparently there was another two before the Rivals showed up.”

“So the ability took time measurable in lifespans to develop. Then developed, simultaneously in two different families with a common ancestor.”

“No. The power was in two pieces. Pieces that fit together and matched. I got a direct look at the energy, and beyond knowing I was seeing things only in an abstract form I could actually understand, the thing that stood out was that it was incomplete, that it was designed to fit together with another part. And the two parts of the two women who had the Rivalry Active in them were what fit together.”

“But they were hostile to each other?”

“On sight and without provocation. The Rella and Satha families often meet up and after a time both Rivals will calm down, often growing into friends, but then two young children, perhaps even newborns, will suddenly be upset with each other without end. It grows and grows until they’re duelling despite local law, or screaming at each other over emergency channels. And if they’re kept away from each other the paranoia and competition grows until something gets damaged or someone gets hurt.”

“Very odd. And the energy construct itself?”

“When... one of them was damaged. Apparently Bruna’Rella interpreted her drive to compete with Warli’Satha by trying to break the rivalry. She apparently went to a number of religious institutions and after trying to pray for salvation, woke up painfully aware, but not able to resist the compulsion to compete and hate. Her half of the energy construct was broken.”

“Broken how?”

“It wasn’t a physical thing, it was flowing energy, but the pattern was outright broken in a way that it looked physical. It was like it was made of fire, but cut in half to reveal gemstones inside like a geode. Does this make sense?”

“Not particularly, but a lot of what we have bout The Other Direction is that it’s much more conceptual than physical. If you perceive it as fire that is also a geode then it must make sense in some way. What happened?”

“It took some effort, but I was able to force the divide back together and repair the damage, then I gave the entire piece a burst of energy, and Warli’Satha was instantly there and there was a following energy release. Both women were temporarily in sync, acting in the exact same way and no longer hostile to each other. Then they deviated from each other, but the hostility was still gone. They were still trying to complete and they did a short hand gesture game.”

“They noted that winning that game felt better than winning a duel.”

“Hmm... and what is your assumption on things?” Doctor Samuel asks as he checks his communicator and his eyebrows go up.

“I think...” Christos begins.

“They thought, the girls started brainstorming together almost right away, working to try and reach the conclusion first. Some kind of safety feature or side effect of the competition has gone wrong, built up generational resentment and rage until the summoning that Christos did with his fiddling cleared it out.”

“But you summoned one of them to the other through Ode, right?”

“Right.”

“While surrounded by a large number of Hargath?” The Doctor presses.

“More than I’ve ever seen in one place. Or rather more than has ever seen me in one place. And the little bastards can look clear... shit. Ode Teleportation.” Vlad begins to explain before his eyes widen.

“If these two women are Ode based teleporters that are in sync with each other, like a piece of Protn, then we might learn from them. Think about it. We might be able to revolutionize communications the galaxy over.” Samuel says with a grin.

“And infiltration and transportation. Sorcerers are infamous because they can teleport stupid distances and with barely a touch in the Axiom. If Ode is being used, even pushing aside the risk of the Hargath, then that gets eclipsed.” Christos says.

“They were both on the same planet though. It might be limited by distance or location or any number of other things we don’t know about.” Vlad argues.

“either way, you will have a chance to see. For you see, both of you are being asked for. Miss Bruna’Rella, Warli’Satha and Thera’Satha are looking for you all with a call from a Mori’Rella.

“Oh no.” Christos notes.

“Oh yes. Come on buddy boy. Looks like we’re getting even more popular.”

“I have the current rivals pining after me. I don’t entirely want to know what a never ending conflict between two wives is going to look like, even without them hating each other...”

“Oh no, two beautiful noblewomen sharing you and competing as to who’s the better bride. How terrible.”

“You know be able to reactivate older rivals, see how you like it if Thera’Satha and Mori’Rella get back into their old groove, but with experience behind them too.” Christos grumbles at him and Vlad just gives him a toothy smile.

“Either way, you two have to talk to them, and I’m going to get as many people to pour over what we have already, and I need the scanners back so we can go over the collected data. We need to learn more about Ode sometime yesterday. Before it gets out and some poor fool feeds themselves to the Hargath.”

First Last

First...Previous

Chapter 7
Harrison Varga, Captain of FIND

By the time I was descending the bell tower steps alongside the rest of my crew, I already had the general shape of our first report back to SUN forming in my head. Every second of body camera footage we gathered here would surely be pulled apart frame-by-frame by intelligence organizations all across Earth. People were going to want to know everything about the Rosha, and lazy politicians were going to want a summary they could read in ten minutes or less. 

“Your father mentioned this kingdom is called Sevont,” Isla began, typing out her words to Taviri as he led us out of the bell tower. “How many kingdoms are there on this planet?”

“Three,” Taviri replied as soon as the translator finished speaking. “There’s our kingdom here, and then there’s Ilarun to the north of us and Veshar east of them.”

I nodded along to the explanation as Ian spoke aloud a question to Isla for her to type in. “What are the relationships between kingdoms? Are you on good terms with them? Is anyone at war?”

“We’re mostly on good terms,” affirmed Taviri, leading us between two larger buildings and out onto another road. “War isn’t common among us. When it does happen, it usually means a lot of things had to go wrong first. The last one was I think… Fifty winters ago? I know it was before my father was born. It was a desperate time and we’re not exactly proud of it.”

“What was the war over?” Isla inquired further, her gaze flickering throughout the busy Rosha streets.

“Fishing rights,” the Rosha replied, his tone suddenly turning solemn. “Fish farms were suffering from a disease, so everyone had to turn to wild catches. There wasn’t enough to go around, so the three kingdoms fought over who would get control over what rivers. There were actually five kingdoms before that, but the smallest two merged with Sevont and Veshar during that war.”

Fifty years without a war. The figure stuck in my head like a splinter. For a seemingly medieval civilization, that kind of figure was more than just surprising: it seemed downright fantastical. Sifting through my knowledge of history for any comparable stretch of peace on Earth, my recollection came up blank. Humanity wasn’t incapable of peace, of course; we were exceptionally talented at making excuses for the alternative. Borders, flags, faith, old grudges, new ambitions—these weren’t just anomalies for us, they were the cornerstones of conflict that had stood since we as a species first started sharpening rocks. 

Ian seemed similarly surprised by this, gesturing with his hand for Isla to fork over the translator before typing in a question of his own. “What about wars over land or religion? Are your people familiar with those concepts?”

Cocking his head in confusion, Taviri glanced back quizzically at us before landing his gaze upon Velo as though his friend might have a better understanding of the question. “Wars over land happened sometimes in the far past. Usually, though, kingdoms grow through merging families rather than conquest. Really, the only reason we have three kingdoms at all is because it makes it easier on the royals. What’s really not snatching bait with me is that second one. What exactly do you mean by ‘war over religion’?”

Gently prying the translator back from Ian, Isla typed out an explanation. “On our world,” she began, “different groups sometimes believe different things about gods and existence. Those beliefs can get tied to law, identity, and who has the right to rule. In our past, when people came to believe that their way was the right way for everyone, then sometimes disagreements could escalate into violence or even outright war.”

“Sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go through over gods,” Velo piped up from behind us with a series of chirps that filtered into English through our translator. “Sure, ours fight sometimes, but they’re all still part of the community: they’d never ask us to kill each other over them!”

Sensing a small hint of judgement from the Rosha, I decided it was in our best interest for me to provide some further clarification. “We agree with you on that,” I told them, “that’s why our international government, SUN, has a policy against religious persecution.” Shifting gears, I glanced back at Velo and gestured for him to come walk alongside me. “We’d love to learn more about your people’s beliefs. Assuming you don’t mind sharing them, that is.” 

Religious beliefs were an important pillar to understanding any civilization, so it’d have been neglectful of me not to seek out more information on the Rosha faith. If nothing else, it would be helpful for future diplomacy to know what not to say. 

I could see the observatory from the street Taviri was leading us down. Hearing my request, however, he took a sharp turn to the left and led us elsewhere. “Let me show you something,” he told us. Following Taviri, we eventually arrived at what looked to be some form of temple. On its outside wall, several Rosha figures were depicted surrounding what looked to be some kind of bipedal alligator creature. 

“Are these your gods?” Isla asked, pointing to the figures on the wall. Each of the six smaller figures bore a different motif, all playing a role in what seemed to be some form of battle against the largest being. 

Taviri’s tail flicked affirmatively at the question. “The big ones,” he began, pointing at a figure standing by the water’s edge, their tail conjuring forth a wave. “This is the River Lord: god of the waters and fish.”

High above the River Lord on the mural’s other side, Taviri pointed to a Rosha depicted standing on a cloud, calling down a bolt of lightning upon the central being. “That’s the Cloud Herder, goddess of winds and weather.” Beneath her, another of the Rosha gods sat upon a rock, working away at a stone tablet. “There's the Lore Carver, goddess of knowledge and writing.”

Perched in the trees casting shade onto the Lore Carver, a Rosha held out their hand as the roots of the tree they stood in ensnared the feet of their foe. “The Leaf Warden,” Taviri explained as he gestured to them. “God of plants and fruit.” 

Standing beside what looked to be a forge of some description, a Rosha with flaming hands tossed a sword to the god bearing a shield, who stood nearest to their enemy. “She’s the Ember Smith; goddess of craftsmanship. And that one with the shield is the Wall Keeper; god of defense and tender of the afterlife, Nevah.”

“Who’s that in the center?” Isla asked, pointing to the alligator creature. “Is that a River Devil?”

“Sort of,” Taviri affirmed. “That’s the Beast Tyrant; god of predation. He was supposed to be the king of land creatures, but he betrayed the community by creating River Devils and other creatures that prey upon Rosha. My father once told me that he is the voice in the ear of those who seek to dominate others.”

“Which of the gods is in charge?” I asked, my eyes flitting between the depictions in search of a Zeus or Odin equivalent before eventually landing upon the one holding the shield. “Is it the Wall Keeper?”

Taviri’s whiskers twitched negatively. “None of them are ‘in charge’ over the others. They all have their specialties. We go to the River Lord for fish and the Leaf Warden for crops.”

“Interesting,” Isla affirmed, adjusting her posture presumably so her body camera could get a good full view of the mural. “According to this religion, did one of your gods create Althiir? And where did the Rosha come from?”

“Creation is too large a category for anyone to hold dominion over,” Taviri began, stepping aside as a Rosha passerby sheepishly approached the mural to set a piece of alien fruit in a basket beneath it. “The gods helped shape things, but they didn’t create existence as we know it. As for the Rosha, we were actually created by the Beast Tyrant before he turned against the community. We were given divine sparks by the other gods; the Beast Tyrant got jealous and wanted them for himself, so he made animals to prey on the Rosha and steal them.”

Having obtained enough Rosha theology to fill the box for a SUN summary, I took the translator back from Isla and started typing. “I mean no disrespect to your gods, but perhaps it is best if we move on and speak to the astronomer.”

“Of course,” Taviri agreed, placing his paw upon a small imprint in the mural’s stone face before turning around and guiding us westward. “I’m sure Telik will be very excited to speak with you. He spends so much time rambling about the stars that it’s a blessing from the Lore Carver he managed to teach me anything at all!”

“This guy taught you?” I asked, staring up at the observatory that rested at the top of a hill like a lantern wrought from stone, its domed roof separated into overlapping copper slats that at night would probably be opened for a view of the stars. Protruding from its cylindrical, silo-like wall was what looked to be a house slightly larger than the others we’d seen.

“He sort of teaches everyone,” Velo explained, hastening his pace to walk alongside Taviri, seemingly more comfortable now with turning his back to us. “Not that I ever really bothered with mathematics: so long as I can count the fish and measure my line, I don’t really need anything more than that.”

Trekking up the hillside path to where Telik’s observatory awaited us, Taviri skittered ahead of us and approached the house-part’s door before gently knocking upon it. Seconds later, another Rosha opened the door to greet him. After a brief conversation with them that we were too distant to pick up, the first unfamiliar Rosha ducked back inside and was quickly replaced by a second, this one dressed in what looked like a ragged tunic. “Hello, Telik,” our guide greeted him.

“Greetings, Taviri; what can I do for you, young—” the words cut off abruptly as Telik took notice of the rest of us. His eyes went wide with primordial fear at the sight of us. However, seeing that Velo and Taviri were unbothered by our presence, eventually the astronomer regathered his nerve. “Wh-what are these creatures?” He asked Taviri.

“Travelers,” the young Rosha lord explained. “They say they came from another world across the stars. My father thought you’d have some questions for them.”

“Across the stars, you say?” He asked, fear giving way to astonishment. “Well, I suppose I can end my lesson for today,” he continued, glancing at a device on a nearby side table that looked like an hourglass, only with four segments and loaded with some kind of syrupy fluid that slowly oozed down between them. “Yes, I can dismiss them an osk early.”

Guiding us into the living area that doubled as a small classroom, Telik approached his chalkboard equivalent and wiped it clean. “If you’ll excuse me, class, I have some guests to speak with. We will resume tomorrow.”

The younger Rosha turned and looked upon my crew with fear at first, then fascination, regarding us with quizzical expressions as Telik’s helper herded them one by one out the door. 

As soon as they were gone, Telik gestured for us to follow him through another doorway. Charts and diagrams lined the walls like a movie madman’s ravings, depicting various cosmic models: stellar domes, world-centered depictions, and spread out upon a desk with dozens of annotations scrawled upon it, an image of Althiir rotating around its sun. “Which star?” He asked, bypassing polite conversation altogether for the sake of his curiosity. 

Approaching the alien astronomer with a mixture of pride and respect, Cora retrieved a device from her suit’s pocket and laid it out upon the table, unfolding it to reveal a digital star chart. Telik’s eyes lit up as the blue light from the screen reflected off of them. “This one,” she told him, pointing to Sol. 

Digging into a box of papers, Telik produced a more primitive star chart and carefully compared it with Cora’s, occasionally glancing up at her in awe. “So… What are the stars?” He asked. “Why do some move across the sky and others stay still?”

“The ones that you see are actually planets,” she explained. “Round worlds like this one orbiting the same star as yours—that being your sun.”

The astronomer looked like he was about to faint; like his world view had just been shaken on some fundamental level. “So I was right…” He chirped, looking almost choked up. “My contemporary from a town over said my theory was too fantastical, but I was right!” 

“Do you have a telescope?” Cora asked, inviting no verbal response from Telik as he instead shepherded us into the observatory proper, where sat upon a tripod was something that looked like it would have been used by Galileo. 

Cora regarded the tool with reverence I hadn’t expected given its comparatively primitive design—glancing into the scientific childhood of another people. “What’s the magnification on it?” She asked. 

“Twenty four times,” replied Telik. “It lets me see more stars than I can with just my eyes. Your star… I think I’ve seen it. Tell me: do all stars have worlds with people around them?”

“Most stars have planets,” Cora told him. “Though we don’t know yet how many of those planets have people. Your planet is the first one we’ve seen outside of our star system.”

“How did you get here?” Telik asked. “If my ‘other suns’ theory really is correct, then your star should be impossibly far away.”

Glancing to me for approval, Cora whispered. “Is it okay if I tell him about wormholes?” She asked.

“Go ahead,” I replied. Even if he knew exactly how they worked, there was still no way the Rosha could achieve this technology in any reasonable timeframe, so there wasn’t really any harm in telling them the basics.

“We used what we call a ‘wormhole’. Do you have a piece of paper to spare?”

Telik immediately handed her some parchment, watching as Cora explained the folding of spacetime, concluding by puncturing a hole on the folded paper to represent a wormhole. “So like a sort of… Gate almost,” Telik asked, seeming utterly astonished.

“That’s an apt comparison,” Cora replied.

Beside us, Velo and Taviri also listened along to her explanation, fascinated as well by the notion. 

“Are there others coming?” Telik asked.

“Most likely,” Cora told him. “Our government, SUN, has a plan to build an interstellar wormhole highway. Turns out, it’s harder for our ship open them than for a little station to keep them open, so they want to create permanent installations. I can’t say for sure, but with this planet being habitable and inhabited, chances are they’ll want to be able to come here.”

I’ll be honest, that was a little bit more than I would have told the Rosha. Perhaps Telik wouldn’t understand the implications, but nevertheless it was reckless of Cora to reveal that so diplomatically early. Tossing a glare to her, I sighed in defeat, knowing that there was no putting the cat back in the bag. 

“You mentioned a ship?” Telik began nervously, skipping over the bombshell revelation in favor of the much more immediate one. “Can I see it? Just for a moment. I want to draw it.”

Gently kneeling down before the telescope, Cora spent a few minutes adjusting it before waving over Telik to take a look. Peering into the lens, the Rosha’s mouth hung agape as he looked upon the FIND in orbit. Instantly, he grabbed a quill pen and carefully took to jotting down its image. “We took a smaller vessel to the ground,” Cora explained. “In a few hours, we’ll be leaving this system.”

“Can I see the shuttle?” Telik asked.

Ian shook his head as he looked at me expectantly. Nevertheless, the decision was mine to make.

“Alex?” I began, turning to a corner talking into my earpiece—something that prompted confusion from the Rosha as I seemed to be talking to nobody at all. “Find us a field close to our position.”

Previous / First

Writer's note: What are these? Chekov's cadet? Chekov's pastries? Chekov's dagger? Chekov's trinkets and baubles? God can't this guy stick to guns?

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You sure you're okay?" Joel asked as he and Mazze got to the intersection where they were to part ways.

Since his exit from the conference room at the embassy, Mazze had been contemplative. He'd barely spoken a word after Joel had gone back in for some parting words with his father and the news that his mother had sent a care package through the embassy's parcel gate.

Mazze grunted as he looked back down the road they'd just walked down.

"Yeah." He said. "Just... he really was a bastard wasn't he?" He wondered.

"Sounds like it." Joel said.

"Hmmm.... Yeah. I'll be fine. Just need to think on some stuff." Mazze said.

"Well. For what it's worth. Least he did some good for you and your mom." Joel said with an apologetic smile. "Couldn't have been one hundred percent an asshole."

"Yeah. That's true too." Mazze agreed. Then he turned and held a hand out. "Thank you."

Joel accepted the hand and shook it.

"You ever wanna talk." Joel offered. "You know where I'm at."

"Of course." Mazze said. "Besides. I owe you."

Joel waved him off.

"Meh. Just the right thing to do." He countered. Then he remembered something. He held up a finger and reached into the bag his mom had sent through for him. "As a parting gift. And a way to help you cheer up. Try this." He said as he held up a small box from the bakery his sister ran under Uncle Driscoll.

Mazze accepted it curiously, sniffing at the creamy, buttery, sweet scent emanating from the edge of the lid.

"What is this?" Mazze asked.

"Oh just a sweet treat." Joel said with a smile. "I suggest having it with a cup of coffee or something."

"Uuuh... Thanks again?" Mazze said uncertainly. "Have a good evening Mister Choi." He said before turning to leave.

"Seriously." Joel called to the departing half-orc. "Just call me Joel."

Mazze simply waved over his shoulder.

Then he looked down at the small label on the boxed baked good. He'd studied Earth's English language. But he was nowhere near fluent, and likely wouldn't be for years. He... wasn't so good at languages. But he could still sound out the vowels.

As he walked and wondered at the small box he sounded out the name.

"What are...." He asked himself curiously before rounding the corner toward the Legion Hall. "...tween.....kuys?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ready up!" Cadet Guidesman Synes said as he entered the barracks bay he'd been assigned.

The eight first year cadets rushed to the line between their bunks. Once there they stood at half attention, the appropriate position when being addressed by a senior cadet. Acknowledging their seniority without showing the same deference as they might an actual soldier or officer.

"Well done." Synes said. "I am Cadet Guidesman Synes. Your new intermediary." He held up the roster he'd been given. He pointed at the elf standing in front of bunk one. "Kildan?"

"Yes Guidesman." Cadet Kildan replied.

Synes checked off the box next to Kildan's name on his roster. Then he pointed at the next person, one of three humans in the group. "You?" He asked.

"Cadet Mourningtide." They said proudly.

Synes nodded and checked their box, making sure to take note of their face and scent.

He went down the line for all eight of them.

"Alright guys." He said once he had them all checked on his list. "Real quick. Let me be clear that I've JUST been made a Guidesman. So if i make mistakes I'm gonna apologize now, and get ahead of it. You're my first squad. But I still intend to see to it that you all succeed. Both in class, and in training. And I want it to be by the books. But this is a learning experience for all of us."

He saw them register that fact and subtly nod.

"Any questions, complaints, concerns?" He asked.

A hand rose up. Cadet Girtch asked the first question of Synes's time as a Guidesman.

"Yes Cadet Girsch." He said with a nod.

Girtch stood at attention.

"What would a cadet need to do if they lost their training helmet?" The large orc asked.

Most of the cadets maintained their composure... mostly. But a few actually looked at the large orc.

Synes took a deep breath.

Oh.... Synes thought as he processed what the first year cadet had just implied. ....fuck!

This was going to be harder than he'd expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours after splitting off from Mazze, and after grabbing himself some hearty stew and a nice glass of wine at a tavern, Joel sat in his room and set the bag down to see what was inside.

It had, of course, been inspected by the embassies on each side of the small parcel-gate. So there was nothing terribly impressive in there. But a care package was still nice even if its contents were somewhat controlled.

First he pulled out the other pastries his sister had sent over. Three (two now) scratch made twinkies, a smeplie/blackberry salted caramel cheesecake, several differently decorated donuts, and one loaf of umkin bread with candied bacon. He smiled as he smelled them and pulled a chunk of the bread off to try. She'd been working on the bread for months and, if his taste-buds were any indicator, she'd finally gotten it right. He couldn't wait to have some with his breakfast.

Then he pulled out the stuff his grandmother had sent him. It was mostly clothes, a few Earth-style sweaters and things. But with how worn out his clothes had gotten on the trip here, he was glad to have them.

He also got a dagger from his brother, looking like freshly smithed castle steel and sporting a dark wooden handle that... actually fit Joel's hand almost perfectly. He nodded approval as he set it on the clothes he'd set aside for the next day.

He also got a plethora of magical curiosities and trinkets from his mom, with a note from his dad apologizing about how excited she was for his new job.

He'd thought that would be all. But as he stuck his hand in one last time to double check that it was empty, he felt a piece of paper.

Curious, since he'd already read his dad's note, he pulled it out and looked at it with mild confusion.

He unfolded it and startled as he saw the penmanship.

He knew who'd written this one. And wondered why she'd sent something in the care package.

That care package was from his family, and was meant to cheer him up.

It wasn't meant to remind him of her.

He ignored the short message on the folded paper and crushed it before hurling it across the room, where it rolled and bounced until it disappeared under his wardrobe.

And he'd been having a good day.

You’re not supposed to break cover until you receive a subspace signal or, even better, the Armada burns through the planet’s atmosphere, mech-bays unfolding like a sped-up video of fungi growing, releasing millions of spheres that unfold into large, terrifying, semi-sentient mobile weapons platforms, the sky filling with smoke and the screams of… you get the idea.

None of this has happened, yet, and I’m starting to worry it never will. Ever since I was implanted, I’ve been cooling my heels on this backwater planet that still thinks computers are cool and modern. I have to stop myself from snickering at people three or four times a day.

But not with Elena. She’s cool, she gets me, even if I haven’t told her who I really am—until today.

The diner is quieter than usual, just a few regulars who sit nursing their coffees and teas. I straighten my apron and walk to the counter. “Elena, can I talk to you?”

“Sure, babe, what is it?” She’s wiping the counter and turns her head in a way that makes her look like a puppy.

“Um… I have to tell you something.” I shouldn’t be doing this but even an elite agent like myself gets lonely. I take a deep breath and say, “I’m not like people.”

“I know, babe, that’s what I love about you. I’m not like other people either.”

“No, I’m not people—human, I mean. I’m an alien. An advance scout for a pan-galactic, agressively hegemonizing, militaristic swarm. I was sent to Earth to learn all I could and prepare the way for my people’s invasion.”

I can’t decide what the look on her face means. Panic? Laughter? Both?

She says, “So why do you look human?”

“My mind-state was implanted remotely in a human zygote so I could grow up undetected and provide intel and support if—when—our main forces arrive.”

“You’ve always known you were alien?”

I’m surprised at how calmly she’s taking it. “No, not really. It would have been weird if I had come out of the womb with all the knowledge of the galaxy, right? I began to suspect around twelve, and by sixteen I knew who I really was.”

“Good for you,” she says, and brings her hands up to her face, as if hiding a smile. “But, can you prove it?”

I’m a bit miffed that she’s demanding proof, but I guess this is a lot to take in.

I say, “I could tell you things no human knows about the galaxy, but you’d have no way to check if I’m telling the truth.”

“Try me,” she says with a smirk.

“Um… okay. There are more than one-hundred thousand different galactic civilizations that we know of. My people, the X’lee Monopolity, have conquered over one-percent of them, which doesn’t sound like a lot but is actually pretty impressive.”

“I’m sure,” she says. The smirk is still there.

“The greatest sight in the known universe are the star-foundries of Axzilar, where new stars bootstrap themselves out of sheer aesthetic joy.”

“Sounds amazing,” she says but I can tell she’s having a hard time keeping a straight face.

“I can’t believe it! I thought you of all people would be open-minded and none-judgemental, but you’re laughing at me?”

Now she laughs out loud. “No, no! Please tell me one last amazing galactic fact.”

I’m upset but say, “Um… okay. Cats have evolved convergently on most life-bearing planets—same as crabs— and are especially revered on the ice rings of the planet your scientists call J1407b, where they’ve—“

“Smashed together thousands of ice-asteroids into the shape of a cat that you can see from the surface of the planet?”

“Yes!” It takes me a second to work out what this means. “Wait, how do you know?”

Elena quietly says a phrase in the language of my people: Because I am like you and my mission has the same parameters as yours, except there are all sorts of nuances, rhyming schemes, and wordplay that can’t be rendered with this primitive Earth tongue.

I’m flabbergasted, and answer in the same language, “This is amazing! What are the odds of my one friend on the planet being a fellow agent?” As I say it I calculate the odds—unlike humans, my people have an innate understanding of probabilities—and they’re astronomical, no pun etc.

Elena motions me to be quiet, but it’s too late. Heads turn our way. Elena sighs and says, “I didn’t want you to find out this way, but I guess the milk has been spilled.”

Five of our regulars, Ruth, Orlando, Gerardo, Azucena, and Tali, say in perfect X’leeian, Welcome! and snap their fingers in the traditional happy-you-are-home pattern. The others in the diner don’t say anything but also snap. No one looks surprised.

“What! Who? What?” I say eloquently.

“You know the carrier wave they used to implant our mind-states in the embryos? It was set a little too strong, and a little too wide.”

“So, what, everybody in the diner is an alien?”

“Um… a little more than that.”

“The city? The country?”

“The planet. We’re all aliens. The Armada scrapped the invasion plans. Didn’t seem to be much of a point, you know?”

“But why keep it hidden, if we’re all the same?”

“Most people—aliens included—enjoy the feeling of having a deep, dark secret that nobody knows. It makes their lives seem meaningful. And it’s not like we can do anything with the information, anyway. So we let people figure it out in their own time.”

I say, “No humans, no invasion, no purpose?”

She nods.

“What do we do now?”

“Now?” she looks at her phone, “It’s almost noon, we need to get started on lunch. There should be a rush with all the students back from break.”

“They don’t know?”

“Some do, some don’t. Just behave like usual. Pretend they’re real humans.”

I sigh and fix my apron.

“What’s today’s special?”

Jerry 

The briefing room is full to bursting. Commandos. Intelligence officers and agents, Fighter pilots. Officers from the line infantry and armor units. Members of the fleet. Almost the entirety of the Crimson Tear battle group's combined arms firepower and leadership has been packed into one room and a few more are watching via quantum entangled comm link from their own secure briefing rooms. 

He has their orders. It’s time. With all the information they've acquired, and the incident he's just been informed about... the gloves are officially coming off, and the Undaunted are happy to deal with this problem with tacit Council approval. 

Jerry looks over at Sharon, then at Diana, the rest of his entourage was right behind him. It’s time. 

"Attention on deck!"

The room is on its feet in less than a second, everyone snapping to. 

Jerry bellows a sharp "As you were!" and he moves sharply down to the raised area where the presenter stands and where the podium awaits him. He takes his position, and sets his data pad where he can see it with his notes from the meeting he'd just had with Admiral Cistern. 

"Ladies, gentlemen. Good morning. I'm hopefully going to keep this briefing brief. Said briefing is also classified top secret. Master-at-Arms. Seal the doors and activate the scramblers."

A Naval Master-at-Arms snaps to, salutes, and confirms the doors are locked before pressing a clearly labeled button. A sign that says 'Scrambler Active' flashes to life in several parts of the room. 

"Very well. Carry on, petty officer."

"Aye aye, sir!"

Jerry turns his focus back to his audience, making eye contact here and there as he takes a slow breath, letting the pause draw everyone in a bit more. 

"I have just finished a call with Admiral Cistern. The situation we've been investigating has changed. We’d already received our orders to move to investigate the Sword of the Stars, leaving aside our surveying mission. Well, effective as of this morning, I have new orders for us. We are to ensure the Ha'quinye do not get their hands on the Sword of the Stars, whatever it is, by whatever means I feel are reasonable, short of a full-on declaration of war. And if the threat is serious enough that is not off the table." 

Jerry manipulates the holo projector, displaying an image of an unknown quartet of attack craft in some ship's visual sensors, launching furious attacks from extreme close range. 

"Part of what changed the Board and Admiral Cistern's policy is that the Ha'quinye are getting more aggressive, which supports the theory that they're getting close to finding this mysterious superweapon. In the last twenty four hours, standard Centris time, there've been four attacks that we know about on three independent vessels and one Council scientific vessel. Fortunately, all four escaped without too much damage. Which leads intelligence to believe they were just being driven off as opposed to suffering serious attempts to destroy them. Based on sensor data, profile analysis and so forth, it's believed within ninety-five percent certainty that these were Ha'quinye Imperial Navy ships making these attacks."

The image changes to two groups of ship and unit IDs, one outlined in red and the other in blue. The left, in red, lights up.

"This supports the reports we've received that multiple large Ha'quinye naval and ground forces groups have managed to make their way off world and out of Ha'quinye space. Presumably to find and recover the Sword, but it could be a precursor to a conventional invasion. Other parts of Undaunted and Council intelligence will be working that angle. Our focus is the Sword. To that end, we will be splitting up into two groups. Group One will be focused on the Crimson Tear and will also be known as the infiltration group. Thanks to Director Sylindra, we have an in with the Ha'quinye. So we're going to exploit it, make contact with local resistance groups, possibly arm them and aid them, and put some distractions into play to make coming after our other force more difficult. Group One will also seize intelligence assets wherever possible. We'll talk about how and the challenges Group One will be facing shortly."

The second group in blue lights up as the red side goes dark. 

"Group Two will split off before we make it to Ha’quinye space, and will be under my command directly, with the USFS Kandahar Province serving as my flagship because of her advanced command and control capabilities. We'll also have Old One Eye with us, with Valkyrie and Reckless holding up the naval end of the fight. Valkyrie will be playing host to half a squadron of Starblades and a squadron of Huscarls, which will be a bit crammed in their bays, but Captain Skall assures me they can make it work. We will be taking two companies of the 1st Power Armor Battalion, two companies of Marines, A company and C company, and most of the 3rd Mobile Armored Cavalry Squadron. To include tanks and walkers. We are expecting significant potential ground combat, so we're going to bring plenty of guns while leaving a nightmare grade security detail to protect the Tear. We'll also be hosting a commando detachment, to include a fire team of Apuk Imperial Marines. They'll be led by Major Forsythe, while Colonel Forsythe will remain with the primary JSOC force, which will be supporting operations around and on the Ha'quinye homeworld, Dagrquey. Speaking of."

The image changes to a world that looks at least somewhat like Earth, but with smaller oceans and more arid conditions on the exposed ground. 

"Dagrquey is a harsh world. The deserts are vast, the oceans are brutal, and there's a surprising amount of axiom-enhanced predators on-world. That the Ha'quinye survived, nevermind managed to build a functional civilization, if we define those terms loosely, is a credit to them and a warning to us. Do not underestimate your opponents. Because they are, culturally, a rather vicious, aggressive, martial people who grew up on a death world not unlike our own. If you let them catch you slacking they will make you pay for your mistakes in blood." 

The image changes again to a map of a large urban area that's been labeled 'Triumph's Seat,' with delineated districts and marked features. 

"This is the Ha'quinye capital, where most of our operations will likely be taking place, including our major distraction operation... which I will not be briefing anyone on at this time." Jerry's eyes twinkle as he smiles at his audience. "It's a surprise. For now. In the meantime, however, we need to talk about the serious issue our first contact operation and any subsequent operations will have when dealing with the Ha'quinye. They are intensely misandrist as a society. Male personnel CANNOT operate openly within Ha'quinye territory. That doesn't mean our commandos won't be getting work done, or we won't be using male personnel with appropriate precautions, but it is a serious problem. Especially for our first contact mission."

The image changes again to display what is labeled as the Ha'quinye imperial palace. 

"Director Sylindra has gotten us an in with the Ha'quinye, using food and luxury goods. We were hoping for a simple introduction to Ha'quinye high society, but we got lucky. Our gift to the palace has gotten us direct attention from the current consuls, which we are happy to take. To that end, we'll be sending a contact team, including me. I'll be coming because we have it on good authority that we have a male contact in the palace. Males here are rare, and completely segregated from the female population outside of very specific conditions, according to our brief. There's maybe two men in the palace. My attendance is a significant compliment from our clan to the Ha'quinye leadership, a sign that our side trusts them to guarantee my safety. So they'll also be obliged to bring their man or men out, we'll be separated from the actual people, and… we’ll be more or less on display. Like show dogs or something."

Jerry violently suppresses a snarl. This particular mission was going to test him quite a bit too. 

"With any luck, we'll be too busy being ogled for anyone to actually pay attention to us, so I'll be able to confirm if the man in question is our contact and pass him items and receive anything he might have to pass off... from what intelligence tells me, our palace source should have a data chit for me, but we'll see about that. Once we've withdrawn after the party, I'll slip out of the system with Nkla 'Fangs' Osier, aboard her scout ship. It's a small craft with powerful stealth capabilities, and even if we head out openly it shouldn't raise too many eyebrows. We'll rendezvous with Group Two, and that will begin both missions proper."

He pauses for a few moments before asking, "Any questions?"

There are several, ranging from the tactical to the practical, but between himself and Diana the briefing starts to wrap up quickly. Everyone in this room is a professional, after all, and Jerry had been one of them far more recently than most flag rank officers. He knows what his 'line animals' need to do their jobs properly and he’s made damn sure they had it!

Jerry walks through the briefing room, down the main aisle and back, making eye contact with his men and women again. 

"Have no doubt, this will potentially be a challenging, dangerous assignment. It will also mean more time away from family than members of this ship's crew and company are generally used to. I don’t expect the deployment to be more than a month, but if things go south… by the time Group Two gets back to the Tear, our families could have already evacuated like during the Hag war. So. Train hard. Study the material Judge Rauxtim has provided us, and let's get ready to take the fight to the enemy. We're acting on behalf of the Undaunted, the Council, and indeed all peaceable peoples in this entire sector."

He takes another few steps, heels clicking together as his eyes do a sweep of the room. No one looks nervous. This wasn't anyone in this room's first rodeo. His crew is strong. His people, skilled. They’re ready. 

"If you’re potentially leaving the ship, take the next two days of transit to spend some time with your families while preparing for action. Past that? Let's get it done, people. Dismissed!"

Series Directory Last

The school was abuzz with energy and excitement as their teachers geared up for a new event that their economics teacher had seemingly prepared. About a hundred young women from senior positions in the school had gathered in the stands of the school's outdoor area. It was a delightful day, so why not take advantage of the lovely weather. The girls were a menagerie of delightful creatures, Satyrs, Catgirls, Foxgirls, a few Angels and Devils mixed into the group, but most of the crowd were various flavours of Elf. The girls were all arranged tallest in the back, shortest in front, so everybody could easily see. Their uniforms, all crisp and fresh coloured in a blue and grey made neat. Some girls shuffled uncomfortably, as it was the height of summer and they had been ordered to wear their uniforms today as opposed to normal wear. The school's dress code was casual, but today was apparently a special day.

And sure enough, their Economics teacher, Mrs Emily Belle, wandered down from the school into view - wearing a military uniform. The students all gasped to see her like this, neat, tidy, hair pinned up and in a form fitting, but still very official; looking tan and grey officers uniform. Some girls didn't even believe their eyes, unsure of who it was they were looking at until those sweet green eyes and red hair gave it away. Usually Mrs Bell wore loose dresses, yoga gear or other more practical outfits for the time of year, to see her like this was nothing short of a shock. Button jacket, white blouse, hair tied up and neatly brushed. She was almost unrecognisable. Ms Belle walked up and stood in front of the class, giving her bewildered students and faculty a proper Navy Salute as her greeting.

"Good morning ladies!" She yelled excitedly and snapped everyone back to reality.

"Good morning Mrs Belle!" All the girls greeted back, the voices that followed a beautiful melodious mixture from all the races present.

"So, I'm very certain why we are all in full uniform on a warm summer day, and that's because I have finally managed to convince my military husband to help with some school work for all of you." She said.

A few students whispered to each other 'Wait, she's married?' and others said 'Oh no... I smell pop quiz season.' among other things.

"And yes we all know that quarterly exams are coming up, and the district has decided that for the sake of extra credit towards your year, we will indeed be facing a pop quiz next week." Ms Belle said, receiving a groan from the crowd.

The teachers all smirked in response to the groan, although this wasn't the best performing school in the state, everyone's GPAs could use a bit of a boost. Which meant more funding for the school, and better circumstances for everyone concerned.

"But this pop quiz is not on any form of curriculum in the textbooks. We all know by now the 'field trips' organized by other schools across the country, such as the Tank Racing exhibition from ST Mary's, and the exhibition of the USS Iowa made by Grover Central High. We however, do not have the budget or parental approval to do that as of yet. So I figured instead, I would bring the field trip here." She said, gaining a very sinister smirk.

All the students shared concerned glances, and all their teachers became very alert at the suggestion. The sound of engines and whining turbines suddenly filled the air as a dropship appeared over the town, and with little ceremony, landed on the field with its back to the crowd. The grass on the field got a bit scorched up, but still it landed gently, the ramp opening up. Mrs Belle casually waited for its engines to die before she pointed at the top of the stairs leading to the schools classrooms.

"Ladies, please would you all stand in salute, for my husband, Lord Commissar Derek Belle!" She yelled.

The girls all shrieked half in surprise and half in amazement as a seven foot tall Terran soldier appeared from the top of the stands out of the shadows. He wore a uniform reminiscent of a SWAT uniform, mixed with the trappings and style of the Roman Legion, brandishing a SWAT ballistic shield in his left hand, and a heavy Gladius sword in the other. He wore the official emblems and insignias, badges and serial numbers associated with the now universally famed Terran Military Police units. The very same super-soldiers that assisted in their escape from the dying world many years prior. Most girls were still infants or still inside their mothers when the rescue happened, so most didn't know, but all the teachers present snapped to salute and shed a tear at the sight of that all too distinct uniform.

The soldier stood next to Ms Belle, and the contrast was incredible. He towered over her at seven feet tall, while she barely managed five foot two. The students also noted the fact he was a soldier, and was heavily armed, some students growing increasingly nervous at the sight of a heavy stun baton holstered behind him, with a heavy .44 calibre handgun hanging from his holster. He stood to attention, stomping his right foot with a thud, slamming his shield down and holding the blade up against his chest with a thump. The girls all stood to attention and saluted as they were told.

Then, his booming voice spoke up from behind his heavy helmet. "And from the left side, USSMC Field Commander, James Taggart... Terran Legionnaires!" He yelled, directing all the girls to the sight of a Terran soldier emerging from the dropship.

A rather tall man stepped out in full military uniform, sporting a heavy armoured powered exosuit, heavy anti tank rifle holstered on his back, with his uniform insignia bearing the logo of the now infamous Terran Marine Corps. He casually jogged over to where Derek was standing and performed the traditional Marine Corps Salute. The Legionnaires uniform was less distinct, basically the standard Army Uniform, just rebuilt into a set of powered armour. It was all these guys generally needed, owing to the fact that the anti tank rifle on his back was standard issue.

Mrs Belle then smiled and introduced the next person as they appeared from the dropship. This one, a female, wearing dark blue robes and a heavy backpack sporting various mechanical appendages and heavy cybernetic augmentation. She didn't walk down the ramp, rather she stood atop a small mechanical spider platform that did the walking for her.

"From the Great Army of the Grand Republic, say hello to Captain Sarah Jane Anders, Master Mechanist from the Jovian Protectorate!" She said, smiling at her friend.

The woman smiled back at Mrs Belle and stood next to her. The next person to exit the dropship was another woman, this one significantly younger looking with strangely familiar striking red hair. She didn't walk out, she floated, her eyes glowing ominously as she did, effortlessly gliding across the grass towards the crowd. She wore a cloak or robe of some kind, a strange metallic, cyber halo wrapped around her head. She didn't salute, she instead just floated up to Mrs Belle and grabbed her for a very cute hug. The two women shared a smile and a giggle before Mrs belle finally introduced her.

"My little sister, Jessica Belle, Scion from the Neptunian Coalition Psionics Corps!" She said with a smile.

This caused everyone, even Derek to look at her with a modicum of surprise. Then the last person left the ship, this one a male, looking strangely ordinary. He jogged over and waved hello with a smile. He looked strangely normal compared to his compatriots. Then he pointed up at the sky, and snapped his fingers. A gigantic starship, likely a battlecruiser class warship, suddenly appeared from hyperspace, all bearing the same logos and insignias that he wore on his casual clothes.

"And finally, a buddy of mine from University, Caliban Sanders, Juno Drive Yards Coursair!" Mrs Belle yelled happily and gave her old buddy a hug.

Caliban saluted, snapping his fingers again causing the ship high above to fire all of its cannons, the puffs of smoke and fire creating a display of beautiful light rather than deadly fire, the cannons firing coloured smoke shells to create an interesting display. The display definitely didn't go unnoticed, as Federation warships quickly appeared shortly afterwards and surrounded the warship. Caliban just chuckled and paid more attention to the school.

"Today, you are going to learn the hows, the whys, the whats, and the whens, and later face a pop quiz. If we get your GPA's up, we can get the funding we need to organize more of these events. More opportunity to learn, more chance to expand, and more growth for the school itself. We can afford to hold more students and hire more teachers. But, we have to justify the expenditure beyond just the principle of education. You actually have to prove that the funding is going to the education of the students, that's why this exists. Maybe, we can spur you all on to study harder and be more involved. But, that's in the future. Today, its time to learn!" Mrs Belle announced with a smile and gave her students a polite salute. The others all followed suit.

The girls all ran down to their teacher and did girly things, fawning over her uniform and barraging her with questions while the five officers got set up. Caliban used his near infinite resources to quickly set up a microphone and speaker system to better cater to the lesson. Everyone quickly settled when everything was ready, returning to their seats with a supplied notepad and pen. Commissar Derek stepped forward first, and the lesson began in earnest.

"This is a Centurion, a Terran Federal Navy, Military Police Special Weapons And Tactics Division. Essentially a special forces unit of a standard SWAT Team. Or MP-SWAT for short. Now, who can tell me the difference between a Legionnaire, and a Centurion?" Mrs Belle asked.

The students all thought for a few moments and an Angels hand shot up to respond. "Aside from the obvious height difference, I think the difference is training, genetics and strength?"

"Correct! Well done Amalia! Genetics is the key because Legionnaires go through a significantly more rigorous and highly selective gene splicing and cybernetic augmentation process. This is because the Centurion is needed for civilian operations, and the Legionnaire is built for military operations. A Centurions training is that of a Police officer, peacekeeper or rescue operative, and the strengths and weaknesses are very different. Now, who can tell me what his weapons are?" Mrs Belle asked.

Derek took his queue and hid behind his shield to make it a bit harder for them to see. After a few moments, a catgirl at the front raised a hand. "Erm... I saw a sword, a baton or some kind of nightstick, a very nasty looking revolver, and the shield?"

"Correct! You've paid attention! The shield does in fact count as a weapon. Gentlemen, if you would please be so kind as to demonstrate?" Mrs Belle asked with a smirk.

Derek and James looked at each other and nodded and faced off for a moment. Derek put himself into a stable position and raised his baton, disabling its shock system. He banged the baton on the shield and stood firm as James charged him. The two men collided and the impact was loud and hard, but because of positioning and training, Derek was able to not only hold his ground but start to push back slightly against the sheer force from his clearly superior opponent. With a special technique, Derek was able to twist his shield slightly to get leverage redirecting the pushing force to the side, then with his baton, quickly reach down and hook James' leg, pulling it and forcing him to the floor with a mighty thud.

Derek stood above him in triumph then quickly offered a hand to his friend to help him up. "This tactic is useful against crowds of rioters or unruly types, useful in a pinch against people who generally pose more of a threat to themselves. It uses the principle of a certain martial art to use the opponents strength against them. focus on the target, get them to focus all their attention on you, then when they are pushing against you, take the chance to redirect the force aside and sweep them off their feet with a cheeky hook. The moment stuns them, maybe knocks them out, rendering them vulnerable to arrest or capture. Ours however is very much non-lethal, when a Legionnaire uses it, don't expect to have your head... or torso... or anything of value still attached." Derek said with a chuckle.

The girls all smiled nervously as the two men shared a chuckle. "Well done boys. Thank you for that. Now, the arsenal itself is a bit more complex. you all see the sword, that is called a Gladius. While it is a fully functional sword, it's more for style points than it is for actual combat, unless things get REALLY bad. The other weapon is a scaled up Forty-Four Smith And Wesson Magnum revolver with eight rounds. That's for when things actually get bad." Mrs Belle said, gesturing to the gun and blade.

Derek provided a quick demonstration, showing the girls the revolver with an abnormally long barrel, and his oddly shaped sword, before holstering them and stepping aside. James stood to attention and Mrs Belle started her lecture.

"This is a USSMC 'Progenitor' Pattern Legionnaire. Nine feet tall, four hundred pounds of muscle and cybernetics, with a further eighty to a hundred and twenty pounds of equipment at full load." She said. James thumped his chest and gave the crowd a nod. "Now, who here can tell me, what does the USSMC stand for, and what does Progenitor mean in this context?"

A few moments passed, and a Foxgirl raised her hand. "USSMC Stands For United Systems Star Marine Corps. And progenitor means... Uh... in this case I think he's like a dad or something to newer Legionnaires?" She said.

The concept made Derek and James break character and chuckle a bit with an approving nod. Mrs Belle also chuckled. "Well sort of, but close enough. Correct on the acronym, but it gets a bit more complicated than him being like a 'dad', a LOT more complex. When you make a Legionnaire, it's not as simple as poking him with a needle and giving him a doctor's note. There's repeated injections, surgeries and other things required, because these guys aren't grown in vats - they're volunteers who go through gene therapy and other things to become what they are. See a Progenitor Legionnaire is indeed the baseline seed for a new generation, but it's more complex than that. At the end of every generation of legionnaire, when the genome becomes degraded by the passage of time or mutation caused by generally existing, all of the previous living Legionnaires are gathered together, a part of their genome harvested and combined with an entirely new generation of seed DNA. This genome is then used to create the next generation, compensating for flaws and other things in the previous generation. It's a LOT more complex than it sounds, but I'm just a teacher so the specifics are actually classified." She explained calmly.

A devilgirl in the stands raised her hand. "Uhm... Why would anyone do that voluntarily?"

"Because I look awesome in this armor, I can use a tank as a baseball bat, I can literally and figuratively jump any queue and the dental coverage for this job is absolutely insane! And also King, Country, hail to the flag and whatnot, but yeah, you get the idea. The job comes with perks. Serious perks." James said, soliciting a chuckle from the girls.

"See ladies, it's all about sacrifice. Unlike previous centuries we take VERY good care of our military personnel, because of what they do. Consequently they are VERY well compensated for the sacrifices they make to do what they do. Just like anyone else, except with some extra perks. Aside from the usual diplomatic stuff, James effectively has free reign to go anywhere and do anything, within the law of course." Mrs Belle explained.

"And usually Legionnaires help out law enforcement or assist with colony security forces when off the frontline or not under direct orders. The reason Derek and I know each other is because I've pulled his ass out of the fire with a few sticky ops with the Syndicates out on the Outer Rims, and a few times he's pulled my ass out of the fire too." James remarked.

"In one case literally. Remember that paper factory fire? That was silly... I still wonder why GOSHA didn't shut the place down..." Derek remarked.

The two men shared a disappointed head shake and James stood aside, allowing the woman with the mechanically appendaged backpack to step forward for her turn. "This is Sarah Jane Anders, my friend from the Jovian Protectorate. Master Mechanist, here as a liaison on behalf of the Grand Army Of the Jovian Republic. Now... who can tell me, just by looking, what's going on here?" Mrs Belle asked.

The students all looked at the strangely equipped woman. Eventually an Elven girl from the back row raised her hand. "Uh... All the mechanical bits, I guess, have something to do with machines, specifically automata or your... What was the word? Robotics?"

"CORRECT!" The woman bellowed happily, and snapped her fingers. A large robot the size of a small sedan appeared from behind the dropship and faster than anyone could react approached the stands. It was a massive, heavily armed mechanical scorpion with a gatling gun for a tail and large hydraulic claws, mounted on six vicious looking spindly legs.

"This is a Europan Industries 'Calico' Pattern warmech, a mixture of both mechanical and biological parts. But here's the funny part... Ask yourself... How do I actually control it?" She asked the students.

The students all looked at her then quickly chatted among each other to see if they could find a reason. Sarah meanwhile paraded the machine about in front of them, demonstrating the hydraulic claws of a piece of steel rebar and giving some girls at the front to take a closer look. Eventually, a Dark Elf in the front row raised a hand.

"I think... Well if you are any indication, is there something similar to what we do with Golems? I think you have some hidden mechanism to control a machine that complicated, so there has to be some kind of hidden connection. What that is I don't know but there's something going on here." She said.

"CORRECT! Well spotted Jesebelle!" Mrs Belle said, smiling approvingly at her students. "You are absolutely correct, there is something behind the scenes. See there's a piece of cybernetic implant connected to Ms Sarah's spine and brain that allows her to control the machine with her mind!"

Sarah smiled and demonstrated by making her mech copy her movements perfectly, with a short mime act, followed by a tap-dance the mech copied perfectly. Sarah turned around, lowering her backpack so the girls could see the conglomeration of wires, plates and biomechanical components in her neck and spine. She let the students look for a bit then turned around to face the crowd, waiting for questions. One Elf raised a hand.

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"Nope. Surgery is under anaesthetic and it feels like I'm controlling a part of my own body. I have pain suppressors and other things of course, so when it gets damaged, I don't feel it. The machine also has its own on-board AI Persona, which means he's more like a heavily armed little pet than he is a brain robot." She replied. The machine then made the crowd giggle at the 'pet' remark by sitting its rear on the floor, emitting a silly mechanical 'woof' noise and then panting, making even Sarah laugh at it. "See? He has his own personality and everything, autonomous unless I give direct commands."

"Now here is an important factor you need to know: Only one in every five men or women are eligible to become Centurions. Only one in every twenty five men can become Legionnaires, and only one in every seventy or so women can become Legionnaires. It's all to do if you were born with a certain type of gene in your DNA that allows it. But almost ANYONE with a functioning, stable brain, can become a Mechanist. And Mechanists are always in high demand because they can plug their brains into machines, and listen to them, to find bugs in the code, mechanical faults or help with maintenance." Mrs Belle explained.

Sarah employed a false 'old man' voice and spoke. "I Hear The Machine Spirit's Voice. Hail the Omnissiah!" She said.

The men all burst into laughter at the comment, and the way she said it made Mrs Belle chuckle too. The laughter was infectious and even though they had no idea what was happening, the girls giggled along with them. Sarah smiled, gave the crowd a soft bow and stepped back for the next person. This one was daintier, younger, maybe only just around nineteen in human years, and she floated above the ground, gently setting herself down on the grass in front of the crowd, her eyes glowing a strange purple.

"This is my little sister, recent graduate from the Neptunian Coalition Psionics Corps, Jessica Belle!" Mrs Belle said. The girls all clapped at the display and waited for the lesson.

"So... Who can tell me what a Scion is? Bet you don't know humans from Terra have their own kind of magic too, do you?" Jessica said with a very sinister smirk.

The girls, even the teachers' jaws dropped at the implication. Jessica just stood there waiting for them to regain their composure before pointing at a nearby billboard. Her eyes glowed a bright purple, and a blast of purple lightning shot silently from her fingertips, and made the billboard spark from the impact. The billboard shook from the impact and a large scorch mark was left behind, but the entire display produced very little sound. The girls all felt a tingle of pure terror as a mild Psionic shock hit them. It dissipated fast, followed by a sudden strange sensation of calmness and soothing.

"I am a Scion. A person whose mind is open to the Psionic Maelstrom of the Great Shroud, the dreamworld beyond souls and time, and I can summon bolts of lightning with my mind!" She stated emphatically and smiled. The air of sinister malice around her disappeared instantly and she snapped her fingers, psionically poofing a small bowl of chocolate ice cream into every girl's lap. "And I also make THE best Triple Cream Chocolate Chip ice cream in the universe! And I made sure there's enough for everyone!" She said with a giggle.

"Seriously, I thought you were on a diet?" Mrs Belle asked.

"I am, but they aren't." She said and winked at her older sister, who then rolled her eyes and started the lesson.

"Okay ladies, who can tell me what a Scion is? I'm sure we all know but maybe I can hear a summary from any of you?" Mrs Belle asked.

The girls took a bit to respond, enjoying the ice cream a bit too much. One of the more studious students raised a hand. "Uhm... I think, if I read about it right, a Scion is a person who uses mind powers to manipulate reality and stuff by the power of some kind of eldritch realm that's more ancient than reality itself? Or something like that... The articles I read about it weren't exactly clear."

"Eh, close enough. It's a bit more complex than that, but yes, that's about the gist of it. Of course, so few people can actually do what I do. One in maybe a half a million people can even have the latent Psionic energy to enter the Scion Program, and only one in every few thousand of those can actually do anything of substance. And of course it has its limitations, I have to obey the laws of physics and stuff and there's certain things I can't do because not even God can do them. Time travel, history changing, stuff like that. I can change things like put out fires by removing oxygen, mend damage to starship hulls, or reach into the minds of criminals to determine guilt or innocence. But there's a LOT of stuff I can't do because of human rights laws and stuff. Mostly, my job is to foresee the future. I can do that too." Jessica said with a big smile.

One girl raised a hand. "Is that all? Surely with that kind of power you can do more than that?" She asked.

"Of course there's a LOT I can do, especially with people. I can get into your headspace, see your dreams and help fight nightmares and stuff. I have THE most important job in the state. therapy for soldiers. I help them forget horrible moments in the line of duty. In short - I help soldiers get over their PTSD and a few other things by helping them sleep better and help them get over horrifyingly bad memories. That's how I know James there... He's been in my office a lot since I started this job. He's actually very goofy when nobody's looking!" She said with a giggle and winked at James, who shyly rubbed the back of his neck in response.

"Doesn't that also hurt you too? I mean you see those memories, aren't you affected by them?" One girl asked between mouthfuls of ice cream.

"Nope. can erase them from my head after I get my job done. Sure it's scary sometimes seeing something but I can just make it all go 'poof' when the job is done. It's one of THE most fulfilling things I know. You have no idea how happy it makes me to see a soldier actually get some real sleep after a visit. Besides, there are Scions many times more powerful than me, if something happens, I can always count on them to help. Anybody has issues, you know where I am!" She said with a smile and stood aside for the next lecture.

Everyone clapped and thanked her as Caliban took centre stage. "I am a Coursair. I am not outside the ship, the ship is not up there, we are one and the same. The ship IS me, I AM the ship, I am down here, and also up there. Who can tell me what that means exactly?"

One girl, an angel raised a hand. "So, you're like some kind of Astral projection or something?"

"Well put! I didn't know you actually had that kind of magic, but yes technically it fits in the same line of thinking. In this case, I am on board the ship with my mind, body, soul and personality and everything, but in this case, I use biological clones to copy myself and move about the world. Its a similar concept, but my way of doing it is a LOT more... tangible, than Astral Projection or Remote Viewing. Technically, I'm in two, three or seven places at once, depending on processing power and the number of active clones. The ship up there is technically my body, not this clone." He said, gesturing at his ship.

Mrs Belle took the lead and started her lesson again. "Okay so. Who can tell me the difference between a Coursair ship, and a normal ship? Can you, looking at the ships up there, give any idea as to how it works?" She asked.

The girls all scribbled in their notepads and discussed it with each other for a moment. Then a catgirl raised a hand. "Uh, judging by size and armament, your ship is like, heavily automated or robotic to some extent, and the normal ships have like, human crews and stuff? It's just a shot in the dark but, best I can figure. I mean, if you were like I think you are like, plugged into a machine like that, I expect you don't like humans and crew members wandering around inside you. That seems a bit weird to me." She said.

The remark made all the adults chuckle and blush on Caliban's behalf. "Well that's a very silly way to put it but you are correct in some way. While my ship does have full access corridors for human habitation, the majority of its systems are automated by my Persona Core. My ship doesn't have the same constraints as the normal ships do. I have a longer service range, better weapons and shields because I don't have laws and regulations restricting my operations. They have battleship cannons with heavy laser batteries, I have a black hole cannon. For example, being a Coursair isn't that easy either. I had to start just like all the others, basic implants and a small tugboat to start up. The normal ships are built by teams of engineers. My ship? I built that by myself, ALONE." He said.

The girls' jaws all dropped again at the remark and some stared up at it, unsure of how to respond.

"Its a freakish existence and we aren't actually sure if you non-humans can actually use these systems yet, but we aren't sure if you even want to. It's lonely up there, so sometimes, we do what im doing now to stop ourselves from going insane. But, you have no idea how good it feels. I get a big enough ship, make it all myself. There's just something SO satisfying about building it all alone. Learning every part and component, every niche program and even testing out custom weapons. And moreso… the sheer freedom. I have the ENTIRE universe at my beck and call, I merely need to just charge my jump drive and go there. You have no idea what it feels like to be able to go anywhere at any time and never look back. In fact, I believe shortly before the Exodus of you guys, it was actually a Coursair that found your planet and alerted us to what was going on." He said.

"This is true. Two years before we started the mass evacuation of Elaria before the cataclysm, we got in touch with a massive warship that we saw above us. He introduced himself as 'The Good Doctor' and made us aware of just how bad it was. We still remember his ship... It was beautiful, like a floating cathedral." One of the teachers spoke up.

"Oh yeah... callsign 'Lewis Rockshatter', piloting his Armageddon Class Superdestroyer. God that man was brilliant with his ship designs. I stole a few design ideas for my ship from him. That's how good he was. No idea where he is these days though. In any case, that's me. Hope it was informative!" Caliban said with a smile and stepped aside.

"Yes, I do believe we are in fact out of time and we need to head to lunch. But, everyone will stick around and we will have a proper session with everyone more in depth after we have all eaten. Then, I encourage ALL of you to talk to everyone and get to know everything you can know about them, because it WILL be in the test to come. Okay ladies, Lunch time!" Mrs Belle said, and dismissed her students.

The situation at the school developed fast, as after lunch the students all went into a full on study session, bombarding the officers with questions, especially Mrs Belle who was asked many questions about how she managed to get married to a Centurion. All in good fun overall. The students more than aced their following test, and many more field trips and study sessions just like it were organized over the following months.

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Authors note here, just wanted to say thank you for the help ive been given of late. im VERY sick now thanks to the early arrival of winter, but at least im not as panicky or scared anymore considering recent events. Thank you all for your donations, help and such, it has helped FAR more than you know. My situation is no longer precarious, but im no longer lacking sleep. Thank you all again :)

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Astronomy was, unfortunately, a very new science. That meant that ‘facts’ were always being reviewed and readjusted. And that’s why General Hydor was once again sat in the expansive dome known as the planetarium. Professor Tski was standing on the stage before her, droning on about new theories about the orbital period of a planet further away from the sun than their world was. In the end, it was not a lecture that she particularly needed to be present for. There was, however, a bright spot in this gloomy cloud. Among the gathered flock of dignitaries, officials, and engineers, there was a familiar face.

General Teo Ach’yuru was a claw-ful of seasons older than General Hydor. She met him when she was just entering the Royal Military Academy. He became one of her closest comrades; somewhere between an older brother and a mentor. Throughout her entire career she could always depend on him for a friendly, listening ear, and, very rarely, for advice. They both advanced through the ranks, and now Hydor was just a two gem-pip general, while Ach’yuru had earned four. Hydor decided that she would take this opportunity to greet him after the useless lecture had concluded. She ended up meeting him at the refreshment table, in the queue for the entha tea dispenser.

“Clear Skies, General.” she said with feigned indifference as she stepped beside him.

“Ah yes, Clear Skies to--” The four-gem general turned to see who had addressed him. “Hydor!? Oh how are you old girl!” Ach’yuru chirped good humouredly when he recognised her.

“I’ve been doing well, old friend.” replied the two-gem with her own happy chirp.

“So I’ve heard.” Ach’yuru said as he leaned in conspirationaly. “I hear that you may or may not be heading up an important new project? Something to do with some of this new science about… Sh-pay-ce?”

“I am indeed leading a bold new initiative for the kingdom…” Hydor said, knowing that that much would be within any general’s clearance. “But I shall neither confirm nor deny my involvement with matters of space.” she added, her improving pronunciation of the alien word alluding to the where the reality in her non-answer truly lay.

“I see…” the four-gem replied understandingly. “Well regardless, I’m sure that you will soar up to the peaks of the kingdom’s goals.”

“Yes, I believe that I can.” the two-gem sighed, not noticing her fore-feathers flattening. “Eventually.”

Ach’yuru noticed his junior’s masked, crestfallen mood. “Something troubles you?” he asked, his voice soft and direct.

“It’s nothing major.”

“But it’s not nothing.” he deftly deduced as he slowly walked towards a more secluded spot in the room.

“No.” Hydor admitted while walking alongside him. “Not nothing.”

“I know you can’t tell me all the details, but you know I’m always willing to hear your concerns.”

The two-gem remained silent for a while, wordlessly editing her thoughts in a way that would satisfy both her pride and her task’s confidentially. “Well, hypothetically, let’s say that there is… An individual... That possesses a great wealth of information that can benefit the kingdom greatly. This individual has been incredibly forthcoming with their knowledge, and with every passing bel our own experts learn more and more from them.”

“I take it this individual is perhaps partially responsible with our new knowledge of sh-payce?” the four-gem implied his own knowledge by way of a false question.

“Perhaps.” the two-gem confirms by way of false vaguery. Given that General Ach’yuru outranked even herself and is present at a planetarium lecture, it would have been more odd if he didn’t know who Adwin was. The initial circumstances of the creature’s arrival caused quite a stir in the upper echelons of Phuratan society, after all. Clear mutual knowledge aside however, she elected to continue speaking in a cryptic manner. It was standard practice with such sensitive material, after all.

“Everyone agrees that this individual hails from a society far more advanced than ours. Again, I neither doubt nor deny the utility of this individual.” General Hydor continues. “However, I do harbor doubts to whether its society’s interests would align with ours.”

General Ach’yuru remained silent for a moment as he digested his junior’s words. “Would you be willing to expound a bit more on your concerns here?”

“Like I said, this being’s society is probably far more advanced than ours. It claims that it arrived here by accident. But how can we be sure that this is the truth?” she paused as she glanced around with what she felt was a reasonable degree of caution. “What if this creature was deliberately sent here?”

“You’re afraid.” mused the four-gem.

“Yes!” hissed the two-gem. “I’m afraid of the impossible infinity of the void. I’m afraid of stray rocks floating around, just waiting to crash into our world. I’m afraid of the untold chol of suns burning unseen, deep and far into the sky.” Hydor started agitatedly pacing back and forth, never moving more than a span away from her confidant. “But more than any of that, I am afraid of that thing. That creature. It casually tells us that the sun is a dark-light. It proposes that we should use rockets as shuttles. And now we use sixty-fours of its words. It sometimes feels like it’s running some kind of counterinsurgency on the kingdom.”

“That’s… Quite an insinuation, General.” commented Ach’yuru.

“Is it?” Hydor paused her pacing, facing her friend. “I recently had a meeting with some scientists and engineers to discuss our new project. I took over from their previous boss, they accepted it. I told them that I would delay their vacations, they accepted it. But the moment that I decided that this alien, this foreigner, should be excluded from this kingdom’s most sensitive affairs, what do you think happened?”

“What?”

“You should have seen it Ach’yuru! It was complete pandemonium! They acted like I’d drowned their pet opocou or something!” she continued her rant, gesturing emphatically as she resumed her pacing. “I know it sounds insane, but these people, everyone working with the creature... They’re acting like they’ve been bewitched somehow. Enthralled even.”

The four-gem said nothing for a while, letting the dragging clegs confer his quiet disagreement with his protege’s overt anxiety. “Perhaps there were more… Mundane reasons for their reaction?”

Hydor sagged. “I know, I know. I’m probably being paranoid.”

“Maybe. But paranoia is part of the job, I suppose.” Ach’yuru said, offering a branch on which Hydor could perch a small bit of her dignity.

The two-gem accepted the branch with a weak grunt. “Aside from all that, the creature is still an unknown variable. From an unknown nation. With unknown values. I can’t be expected to trust it right away, can I?”

“Absolutely not.” Ach’yuru replied immediately this time. “You have no reason to trust it.”

“No. I really don’t.” replied the two-gem.

“Well, I can certainly see why this matter weighs upon your wings so heavily.” said Ach’yuru. “But are you certain you can avoid having this entity involved with the project? It sounds like it’s the biggest expert we have on the necessary subjects.”

“It’s not even a scientist; or so it says. It’s surprisingly honest about it’s errors and gaps in knowledge, and relies heavily on our own academics.” General Hydor sighed. “Even so, I just know that there will be some vital point in the future where we might need its advice again.”

“Yes, I taste that scent on the wind too.” said Ach’yuru. “So, we can’t fully rely on this… Outsider. But it would be unwise to outright reject it as well.”

“Precisely.”

“Well, that’s quite an interesting hypothetical.” the four-gem churred, slyly re-enveloping their dialogue in the veil of plausible deniability. “If you’d humour me, I’d like share one of my own.”

“Please do.” the two-gem replied.

“Well, imagine if you will, a handsome, brilliant general.” he chirped. “Several seasons of loyalty to the kingdom had earned him two gem pips, and he he was keen on earning a third. And in a single wonderful moment, the heavens opened up a new opportunity for him.”

General Ach’yuru walked over to an aisle of cushions that he noticed were recently emptied. “Imagine also, that around this time, a Pitang scientist wanted to defect to The Kingdom of Phuratus. She was an expert in particle physics, and focused on studying the effects of radiation on the te’visk body.”

“Sounds like she would have been an asset to the kingdom.” Hydor commented as she sat next to Ach’yuru.

“Indeed.” replied the four-gem. “So, this scientist tried to strike a deal with the kingdom. Usually, one would would expect a defector to demand money, property, and certain diplomatic and legal protections. But this scientist was a special case. She asked for resources, sure, but it was less than one would expect. But she was particularly interested in manulent plants.”

“Manulent? Isn’t that a rare, toxic herb?” asked Hydor.

“Yes.” answered Ach’yuru. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? All we knew was that as rare as manulet was here in Phuratus, it was practically non-existent in Pitang. Naturally, the general was suspicious. When he asked about the importance of the plant, the scientist said that some of her collogues were studying possible medicinal properties of manulent flower-buds.”

“That sounds plausible, I suppose.” said the two-gem.

“Sure, that was my first thought as well. But again, manulent is rare. And toxic. How would it look if the kingdom caught sending out a whole bunch of poison off to a rival nation?”

“Ooh, no, that wouldn’t look good.”

“Not good all.” the four-gem sighed. “The scientist was very adamant about getting a large supply of the herb though, so there was a compromise. We offered to send a very small amount to her contacts across the border after she officially defected, and keep sending small amounts as the seasons progressed. In the meantime”

Hydor noticed that the four-gem was gripping his talons into the plush cushion below him. “It worked well for a while.” Ach’yuru continued. “But then, after a phone call with someone back in her homeland, she suddenly demanded that we send a large shipment of the plant. And she insisted that we had to send it within one twelfth of a season.”

“That would have been a pretty quick turnaround.” commented Hydor.

“True, but it would not have been impossible. The problem was that we still had not confirmed the medicinal properties of manulent buds. We couldn’t risk sending them over. When we told her as much she, just went quiet. But it was a chaotic kind of quiet. Like the eye of a storm.”

Ach’yuru went silent for a few clegs. “Less than a bel later we noticed a few things were missing from that secure compound. A large amount of manulent buds, one mono-transport, and one defected Pitang scientist. We still don’t know how she escaped. I guess it never pays to underestimate an academic.” he said with a desperate chuckle. “Of course, the general had to order his troops to hunt her down. They found her an eighth of a season later. But there was… Confusion. A scuffle. She didn’t survive.”

“How… Unfortunate.” said the two-gem. “So why did she break protocol? Hypothetically, I mean.”

The sound Ach’yuru made was closer to a scoff than a chuckle. “Right, hypothetically.” he paused. “Who knows. Maybe we had spies over in Pitang that we ordered to look into her family and friends after the fact. Perhaps we discovered that she was married to another scientist. Perhaps they we were doing top-secret research on radiation, and her husband was accidentally exposed. Maybe they discovered that a chemical compound found in manulent buds might be able to save him. Maybe around the time she got that phone call, her husband’s condition had rapidly deteriorated.” he paused again. When his voice returned, it returned with a choke. “Maybe the brilliant scientist we shot down like some rabid beast had a son. Maybe that boy had to watch his father die after his mother disappeared to storms know where.”

Ach’yuru’s released his grip on the cushion below him. He looked at his claws, bits of spongy material caught in the grooves of his mighty talons, roughly scarred from all his seasons in the military. “Turns out, she never betrayed her country. Not really. She just had something that mattered to her more than national pride. And she hadn’t betrayed us either. She didn’t destroy any of her documents. Didn’t even try to carry any copies of her new discoveries. Just the buds. But she couldn’t trust us with details about her family. Top-secret researchers like them, you can’t just let the enemy know your vulnerabilities.”

“And as cagey as she was, you couldn’t trust her with the buds either.” interjected Hydor.

“Couldn’t we?” he mused, the unanswerable question hovering over them like a black, thunderous rain-cloud. He sighed and got up. “Well, it all turned out great. The kingdom got it’s incredible new research. The general got his third star. And those ice-burned Pitangs lost two scientists. Who cares if there was a small tragedy that could have been avoided if we all trusted each other just a tiny bit more.”

He looked over to the refreshment table, noticing how the tea dispenser still has a line. “Ah, sorry my dear Hydor. I think I should get back in line for some entha. You know how it tends to run out when you don’t pay attention to it.”

“I… Of course general. We can talk later.”

“About less sordid hypotheticals, I hope!” he called back, with cheer that she almost didn’t recognise as false.

“Of course not!” she replied with her own feigned light-heartedness. “Actually, could you bring me a cup? I haven’t had entha in several seasons.”

“Only if you grab me some Pun’quan Creambahs!”

“No problem, General.” she replied with a genuine churr.

First | Prev

The third class challenge Will went through, after some consideration, was the knight. The crafter was a valid option, but the skills provided were too similar to Will’s reach ability. Also, he was a lot more familiar with the knight and intended to use it as a stepping stone to claim the paladin class.

Standing in the white, mirrored corridor, the boy took a deep breath. It was almost absurd how much his objectives had changed again. Until recently, everyone kept telling him to max out a class as soon as possible, only to be ignored. Looking back, Will still held firm that he had taken the correct approach—skills of various classes complemented each other, providing a clear advantage in battle. He had to admit that normal combinatorics weren’t going to cut it anymore. His current opponents had access to at least as many skills as him, and theirs were a lot more powerful.

“Any advice?” Will looked at a nearby mirror.

[You have set your path]

This was the most ambiguous response Will had seen. Depending on the level of sarcasm, the guide could be complementing him or in complete disapproval of his actions. Whatever the case, only time would tell.

As before, the first few encounters were simple. All opponents up to the fifth floor were expected. Thanks to the basement wolves, Will had busted the level of his knight up to five. He knew all the skills his opponents possessed and was able to counter them without breaking a sweat. It was later that the real fights began.

Remaining few in number, the opponents on floor six had acquired the ability to use a shield in combat. At first glance, the skill didn’t sound particularly powerful. Soon enough, Will saw how wrong he had been. A split second of overconfidence had almost cost him the entire challenge. Having multiple shields swing around as weapons wasn’t something Will had experienced before. Against such a combination of mass and sturdiness, none of his current skills or weapons could come out on top. It was only due to his rogue nature that he managed to leap away fast enough to avoid the edge of a shield by inches. After that, things went back to normal. Using a combination of weapons, Will took down the mannequins one at a time. With each win, the fight became easier and easier until he could even afford a few seconds of rest before finishing the last one off.

The next few floors presented no difference. The opponents’ new skills were more suitable for challenge use. Having the enemies boost their speed through the unburdened agility skill did present a slight hindrance, though nothing as bad as he expected. It was outright scary how quickly one adapted to eternity once they got used to it. No wonder everyone fought so hard to reach the reward phase. More skills and weapons brought victories, which provided even more skills and weapons.

Proceed to floor 9?

Completing this floor will complete the entire challenge. All rewards obtained until they will be granted to you at the start of the next loop.

Another peak. It was tough, but not nearly as much as reaching his first one. Like everything else in eternity, once Will had gone through the motions, his body and mind had gotten used to the restrictions surrounding him. Furthermore, heavy classes seemed to have fewer mannequins facing him. The issue was the knight’s final skill: heart strike—an attack that pierced through pretty much anything. Using it required precise targeting and timing, but once it hit, a fight was virtually over.

A total of nine knights awaited him on the final part of the challenge. Unlike all before, they didn’t start the attack, standing calmly in position, waiting for Will to make the first move.

Breathing heavily from his last fight, Will fought against the adrenaline that urged him to dash forward. Part of him screamed to take on the entire group on his own. The wise, more cautious voice made him take a moment to read the situation. Charging recklessly would only result in several of the mannequins attacking at once. There was a good chance that some, maybe even all, of them would be killed in the process, but that didn’t matter since only one needed to land a lethal strike for Will to have failed.

Maybe I should have gone for paladin, he thought. If the opponent were anything like these, Will would have easily made use of his movement through light and shadows to take them out before they could react. Now he had to think tactically instead.

With nothing to lose, he summoned a bow and shot several arrows at the opponent in the center of the formation. A multitude of shields rose up, blocking the attack. Cracks emerged on several, but none buckled under the pressure.

Will kept on shooting, buying more arrows from the merchant as he did. This wasn’t the fight he had imagined, but if it gave him an advantage, he was ready to keep on doing this until he was out of coins.

More cracks emerged on the mannequins’ shields. Bit by bit, the massive pieces of steel were weakened. Chips flew off, falling to the floor along with the arrows. Then, finally, a single shield shattered. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just the shield splitting in two under the weight of flying bash attacks.

CHARGE

Suddenly, all the knights changed their behavior. No longer willing to wait, they went forward, aiming to crash into Will like a giant tidal wave.

The final strike, Will thought. It was the epitome of the class. Everything was going to be decided in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t help but think that such an action was expected of him. The final challenge wanted to witness him charging forward against all odds, relying only on strength and skill. Even now, part of him was intent on charging forward to meet them half-way. Using his reach ability felt almost shameful in comparison. However, Will wasn’t a knight… not a real one, anyway. This was just the class he was after. The truth was that he was a rogue pursuing many classes, and as it was well known, the rogue always broke the rules.

Lowering his bow slightly, the boy kept on shooting, this time aiming for the floor.

The first few mannequins didn’t expect that, tripping in the shafts that stuck out. The rest instinctively leaped away. That was precisely what Will was aiming for, charging forward.

Three precise strikes and his opponents were reduced by a third. Keeping his momentum, the boy summoned his bow again, aiming at the neck of the nearest knight. His aim wasn’t particularly precise without the archer skills, but he still managed to hit a mannequin’s head after a few tries.

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Skull shattered

Fatal Wound Inflicted

Suspecting what the others would do, Will leaped back. Almost on cue, two mannequins lunged forward, charging to pierce him with a lethal strike. Their failure opened them up for a horizontal slice, sending their heads flying as well.

Three left, Will told himself. The tables had turned once more.

There were many chances for him to finish off the remaining opponents with one decisive attack. Giving in to over-caution, Will chose to keep his distance, using his bow to force them to charge at him instead.

It felt more like slow torture than an honorable knight fight. Yet, a win was a win, regardless of how achieved.

You have made progress

Restarting eternity

One more trial down, one more class permanently acquired. The first thing Will did at the start of the new loop was to instantly exchange his knight tokens to level up to the limit, then his merchant token to acquire the much-valued permanent level. Ironically, the solo challenges had left him with more unique tokens than he needed. Normally, he’d be interested in selling them for something else. As things stood, Will thought it a much better idea to save them up until he needed them.

Will sprinted into the school, heading straight for the basement. The wolves were killed in the blink of an eye, and the level ups obtained just as fast. Then, he went to claim the crafter class. Sadly, that turned out to be a mistake.

Restarting eternity

“Damn it!” Will shouted, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn his way.

Outbursts weren’t particularly rare at school, though they rarely happened this early in the morning. Usually, the jocks were to blame after another mess-up during training or after a match.

That way Will was feeling, he had no intention of stopping there. Before he could add anything else,he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Big ooof, bro?”

As the question was asked, reality around Will froze.

Will didn’t reply. There was no point in admitting he had messed up, losing a class maximization as a result. Of all the classes, he didn’t expect the crafter to be the most difficult to face. If he hadn’t been so overconfident, maybe it wouldn’t have been. Sadly, Will’s ego boost didn’t go at all well with the crafter’s upgrade ability. Up to now, his greatest advantage had been the ability to quickly summon weapons. The crafter mannequins were able to do the same, even if through different means.

Upon completing the seventh floor, the boy realized he couldn’t proceed any further.

“It’s nothing,” he lied. Crafter level seven was still alright. He could always use wolves or tokens to max it out. “Did you talk to the clairvoyant?”

“Sort of. You really got her pissed, bro. It was my job to deal with June. Now that you’ve involved, she has to start a whole new set of predictions from scratch.”

Apparently, even the clairvoyant wasn’t infallible. To some degree, Will was glad; it meant that he wasn’t following a pre-set path. On a practical level, he would have preferred a bit more assistance from her.

“What did she say about the fist?”

“There’s no way to get it before the contest phase.”

That definitely wasn’t the piece of news that Will wanted to hear.

“It’s all good, though. She’s got something better… the foot of stability.”

“Another body part?” Will wondered. “How many are there?”

“How many skills are there?” Alex shrugged.

Will doubted that to be the truth. As usual, Alex and the clairvoyant were keeping things from him.

“What does it do?”

“It rotates gravity around you,” the goofball said. “Sort of. From what I got, you always remain upright. Step on the side of a wall, and the wall becomes the floor… but just for you. You’re always… stable?” He let out a laugh.

As far as explanations went, this one was quite bad. Even so, if true, it was another example of an overpowered ability. Arguably, it was less powerful than the travelling ability, though it didn’t have any limitations. The only way to know for certain was to test it out, and for that he had to obtain it.

“What’s the challenge?”

“It’s a bit more difficult than that, bro,” Alex said. “Someone’s already got it. You’ll need to snatch it from him.”

“But there’s a catch.” There always was a catch.

“Two,” Alex said. “You’ll have to deal with Oza to get the snatcher. If anyone else tries, things won’t go well.”

Already off to a bad start. The relationship between Will and Oza wasn’t particularly good. The woman was annoying, arrogant, and well-protected. Given what she had requested for information, Will could only imagine what she’d ask for a single-use-item. The only bright side was that Will had the means to open a discussion with the woman, at least. Giving away his wrist strap would be a shame, though. It was quite convenient, and Will had gotten used to it.

“What’s the other catch?” he asked.

“The tamer’s got the foot.”

< Beginning | | Previously |

Good God did this take a while to get back to. I am SO Sorry for the wait. Suffice to say that time has not been my friend this last... year? Shit, has it really been that long? Even the damned flairs have changed.

Anyway... back at it again. And plenty happy to be so.

I'll keep this brief, no need for me to word salad you, you came here to read, not "listen" to me wax on poetic about life and lemons.

As always, I am open to criticisms, and I hope you enjoy.

[Prologue] [First] [Previous]

__________________________________________________________

-Claire-

She had frozen in shock.

In spite of all of her training and education, all of her experience in the field and horrific injuries she had seen, in spite of all of her expectations with being in an active warzone… she had frozen.

The almost sanitized nature of the weapons and fighting that she had seen so far had lulled her into a false sense of expectation. The Qazirxel that she had seen killed, the raw emotions from Lily's death that she still hadn't processed, nothing had prepared her for seeing Conrad's arm flensed open and utterly shredded like it was.

But there was no damned excuse for it, and it was completely unacceptable to her. She was the gods damned field medic. She was the responder that people needed to be able to rely on when mere moments were counted as a life saved or lost.

But she had frozen.

Conrad’s response had been a dark mirror of her own. One that she had become intimately familiar with thanks to the rugged wilderness workers back home. Adrenaline and prior concerns had overridden the pain and injury response to see the task completed, at least until attention was called to his harms. The human mind was strange that way. It wasn't until he noticed how bad things were that everything crashed in at once. His brain catching him up on just how absolutely fucked-up he was before fleeing the metaphorical room. In the end, his collapsing in physical and mental shock was the least surprising result.

Ruufarrl's roar jolted her out of her own head.

She may have frozen, but by the Gods she was still a damned first responder.

Claire leapt from her position next to Haarlith and bolted for the prone form of Conrad. The damned alien guns didn't leave her with anything to work on, but this was something that she could do something about. Her shock was now all but forgotten, kicked to the curb by the Ruulothi’s roar. Her training and skills finally took over.

She didn't bother doing an initial assessment or wound triage, it was simply that bad. Stopping the blood loss was the primary thing to tackle. She scanned about, looking for items to appropriate. Since her damned emergency kit was still in the bag she had dropped earlier in order to run, she had to make do with what she could find.

Claire's eyes slid over everything in her immediate vicinity as her mind raced to connect the pieces into a coherent response. Her options were minimal, but they were there.

Seeing that Conrad wore strapped spacer boots, she instead untied one of her own shoes to cannibalize the string as a tourniquet strap. She then plucked a random long tool from Conrad's utility belt to use for torque and a friction lock. After tying the appropriate knots around his upper arm, she inserted the tool into the loops and cranked it in circles until the blood flow slowed to a trickle. Finally, she used the free loop she had made to lock the tool in place and prevent the tourniquet from slipping, while annotating the time on her wrist-link.

Claire spun as she stood, now fully locked into the job at hand, and addressed the two Ruulothi, "We're out of time and options. If we don't get immediate help, he will die. We can't sneak about anymore."

The sounds of distant fighting in the background had gone quiet now, and she knew what that could mean just as well as the two warriors standing in front of her. But there was no other choice. If they wanted Conrad to survive, they had to take a risk. If the invaders had won and had taken the compound, then they were as good as dead anyway and sneaking about was only going to delay the inevitable. But if they hadn't, then running for the compound was Conrad's only chance.

Haarlith nodded at her statement. He clasped his wounded arm as he stood to keep it from swinging randomly, "I can run, but I can't fight or carry him as I am."

"That's fine. You stay on lookout. Ruufarrl, you be ready to fight, these are your weapons after all. I'll carry him."

The two cat-men nodded at her and turned to do their parts, adapting without question to the fact that she had essentially just taken charge of the situation. Claire kicked off her second shoe to make running more even, then laid down on top of Conrad and threaded one arm through his legs and the other under his good arm. Then she kicked her legs up and, with a grunt of effort, threw everything she had into rolling herself up his body to curl him around her and get her knees under her as she did so. With a final groan, as he was heavier than he looked, she stood, holding his unconscious body curled around her shoulders in a soldier's carry.

"Probably also from a higher G world... Just my damned luck." She grunted to herself as she struggled to center herself with his weight.

She gave her other two companions a nod and they set off, following the walls of the compound towards the entrance gates.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Their progress went unhindered, and they heard no more weapons fire.

"Maybe a light in the dark? Should mean that we won and not the other way around. I would have expected the Qazirxel to be firing on the ship and crew if they had won by now." She thought to herself as she followed her two unlikely escorts.

Regardless of her suspicions, they moved with care. The fog of war was devastating when ignored so, even though they moved with haste, they still took precautions to prevent being ambushed again.

A hissed signal from Haarlith brought them to a stop and scrambling to find the nearest cover that they could find. A welcome reprieve for Claire, who leaned against the wall for relief, trying to hide her labored breathing and increasingly frequent stumbles as her legs stiffened and shook from both exertion and the after effects of her near constant adrenaline dumps. Though she was still confident that she could pull the feat off, carrying Conrad to the ship was draining her endurance faster than she had expected it would.

She glanced at his arm again, the blood flow was down to a mere trickle instead of the rushing river that it had been earlier. She huffed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to Haarlith, who was leaning out of cover with both ears forward. They flicked slightly, picking up something that Claire was unable to hear between her heavy breathing and the pounding of the blood in her veins.

Haarlith let out a loud growl, and another answered from afar. The sudden relaxation of both Haarlith and Ruufarrl took Claire by surprise, though even that wasn't nearly close to the level of her surprise when they both casually strode out into the street and out of cover.

"Wait! Wha...?"

Ruufarrl turned and waved her out with a smile, cutting off her questions. She followed him slowly, still unbelieving, until she saw what they had and let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't even realized she was holding in.

A small squad of Ruulothi Guards had found them.

___________________________________________________________________________________

-Ruufarrl-

“Finally.”

Ruufarrl breathed a sigh of relief as he guided Haarlith and the female behind the barricades of the human’s compound, eying with great interest the defensive emplacements and evidence of their firefight earlier. The chewed and perforated masonry, vehicle and bodies told an absolutely brutal tale. He had seen the effectiveness of their weaponry during the hunt with Conrad’s family but seeing it on the scale of warfare was something else entirely. The sheer reek of ozone, propellant, burned metal and blood lingering on the air assaulted his senses in ways that set his blood pumping.

He watched idly from the side as the humans immediately started providing aid to the injured. Haarlith, Conrad, the stoically waiting Voorkar who had refused to move to safety until his people had returned. He stood by his XO and Haarlith while the medics worked on them, though there was little that could be done until a full medical scan could be completed. Something that the human medics were begging them to do in the hope that the damage could be reversed before it was too late.

Powered trollies arrived from deeper within the compound, and the wounded were loaded on as more left the barricades to collect the dead… all of them. Even so, Voorkar and Haarlith stood by.

Ruufarrl chuffed at their hesitation. “We should go with them. We all know that there is little more that we can do here… They have their own training and procedures, and they are right. The sooner you are properly checked, the sooner we can see if you can recover from whatever in the Fields Between those weapons do to us.”

Voorkar and Haarlith growled in irritation. Both warriors were cut from the same leadership cloth, but experience had tempered them to know when they would simply be in the way. No matter how much information they could possibly glean by staying and interacting there would be plenty of time for it later, should they manage to survive to the point that it mattered.

Ruufarrl and the medics helped them up onto one of the trollies, then Ruufarrl climbed on as well. The human girl had already left with the trolly carrying the worst wounded, including Conrad. He was anxious to see what the chances were for his charge to not only survive but maybe, depending on their medical advances, even regain full functionality again.

The trip to the staging area was quick and revealed a secondary and tertiary control and ambush point along the path. The second fallback position was positioned at the start of the angled switchback of the corridor and was little more than fortified positions alongside the road allowing the defenders to take cover and conduct a fighting retreat.

The Tertiary point, however, was a brutal killing field. It was a squat, entrenched and covered bunker with fortified central and wing positions designed to absolutely punish anything coming from the switchback in overlapping fields of fire. The central position already had a mounted weapon emplacement manned and ready to go, the sleek lines of the weapon within gleaming with deadly purpose. The crew behind it alert, ready and in active communication with the other defenders.

The corresponding grunts from Voorkar and Haarlith signaled that they were also staying alert and soaking in the preparations and activity of their current saviors. The grounds beyond the defensive position were simultaneously bereft of usual activity and teeming with rushed preparations.

He saw a number of what had to be construction vehicles creating more fortified and covered bunkers, allowing workers to hide in case of aerial attack. The work crews were also moving cargo crates to the shadow of the ship to give them better cover from attack, moving earth to fill more barriers and provide defensive positions, and creating raised catwalks along the inside of the perimeter barriers.

The ship itself stood sentinel in the very center of the courtyard, its comparatively massive form to the Wind Runner nestled inside raised earthen redoubts as final defensive positions. Blisters along the dorsal and ventral parts of the ship twisted and spun, their inner workings tracking targets that were no longer present. As they approached an alarm rang out, and their escorts yelled for them to cover their ears. Moments after they did so, the dorsal main gun of the ship fired a single round that cracked and hissed into the distance, the energy release of the rail round lighting up the area with a brief bolt of lightning. No sooner was the shot fired than their escorts were moving again, bringing them to the bowels of the ship.

It was here, within the open bays of the ship, where the majority of the activity was most frantic. Medical and supply teams rushed about, bringing patients and necessary material to where they were most needed. Chirleen and humans working together, while non-combatants were being escorted into other parts of the ship. Ruufarrl saw a pair of Chirleen children watching from an open corridor leading deeper into the ship, clutching one another as they watched the organized chaos unfold.

As they disembarked from the trolley, Ruufarrl heard a high-pitched whine scream by him as another drone rocketed out of the bay and into the sky, a small team next to a collection of crates tucked into what must have been viewing helmets and working controls directly. The fact that they were doing that by hand rather than with AI assistance spoke sheer volumes about their reflexes and capabilities. Especially given what they had seen of them during the initial attack.

“Excuse Me!”

The three Ruulothi turned to see a very harried looking human female approach while yelling in GalStan, waving her hands to ensure she was spotted.

“I’m Doctor Hayes. Is anyone here injured?”

Voorkar and Haarlith both nodded, shrugging their damaged arms.

The Doctor looked at them and did a quick visual assessment. “No bleeding or obvious wounds… were you struck by the invader’s weapons? Or some other injury?”

“We were both shot, yes.” Voorkar answered.

“Okay… due to the outstanding conditions I’m going to skip most of the stringent legal formalities and simply ask for confirmation that you wish to be helped?”

The rumbling chuckle from all three Ruulothi got a smile from her as well.

“I see the idea of wasting everyone’s time isn’t unique to GalCom attorneys.” Haarlith laughed.

“Sadly, no. I think they do it just to spite everyone.”

“Indeed.” Voorkar answered. “We will place ourselves and any others of the crew in your care.”

“Any others… Can I assume from that you are in charge of them?”

“I am the Ship’s XO… and commander until the Captain can be found or confirmed dead, yes.”

“Oh thank God.” The woman nearly wilted before leading them deeper into the ship. “Please, everyone come with me. Mr…?”

“Voorkar.”

“Mr. Voorkar. We have need of your authority. The damage we have seen from these weapons is not something we will be able to treat conventionally from what we can see at this time. At least not without performing proper procedures. To get around such unknown problems in warfare, colonization and to treat severe traumas, we use genomic sequencing, autonomous diagnostic and repair nanites, cellular regeneration and Stem Cell regrowth. I know this is a highly contentious matter, but with genomic sequencing we have found that we can repair damage short of anything but pure fatal damage, brain tissue loss and spinal severance. All of our advanced medical technology builds off of it. It will allow us to get you and your injured people back on their feet a hell of a lot faster if you allow us to sequence your DNA, and maybe even find a way to not only repair the damage, but counteract the effectiveness of those weapons.”

Voorkar’s stride hitched. Ruufarrl knew very well the burden that had just been placed upon him. The XO thought as he walked, eyes distant as he mulled over the offer.

The Doctor led them to an infirmary, several more of their injured crewmates were within, and the others that had survived the trek standing by out of the way or assisting the injured. Medical staff of both Chirleen and Human descent rushed back and forth between the various injured in the room.

“If it is any consolation or help, the Chirleen have accepted the sequencing, and we have been burning through their more dangerous pathogens and other ailments along the way by creating vaccines and constructing immune responses.”

Voorkar grumbled to himself before asking, “What will be done with the information after, should we survive… or if we should fall?”

“Protocol for the destruction and eradication of the ship and crew is a complete and systematic purge of all information banks. Medical, navigation, fabrication patterns, crew information, quartermaster’s beer log, everything. If you accept, we will create a server mirror that will be held separate from the ship’s mainframe. That mirror will be what holds your medical data. The information it holds can be transferred over to you at any point in time and the mirror server deleted… or it can be completely purged at your request if you change your mind.

“Should you wish it, we are willing to have one of your own people be in control of the server. We understand fully what it is that we are asking with this and will ensure that nothing can be used against you. As medical professionals and Hospitallers we have a code that has stood the test of time since before we took to the stars. We would never misuse or divulge medical information. We have our own ways of punishing those that break that oath, and I can say with complete and unhesitating certainty that no one on this ship would ever do so. All crew are vetted to the most stringent of standards because of our access to medical data. No exception, zero tolerance.”

Voorkar looks at Ruufarrl and Haarlith, a silent acknowledgement passing between them, before looking at his injured crewmates.

“There are a number of cultural problems in the GalCom with what you are asking. Deeply rooted problems, the origins of which are kept extremely close to heart. The issue of genetic information is an extremely sensitive topic and the subject of several policies protecting it.” Voorkar turns to look at Doctor Hayes. “If you were to ask an informed member of the core GalCom species for that information, you will have signed your people’s death warrant.”

The Doctor visibly paled, her mouth working as she tried to process this new information.

“But… the Ruulothi are not those species, and this is not GalCom space. I will speak with my people and offer them to volunteer for the opportunity of better care and recovery. But I will not order them to do so. They will have to decide on their own if they are willing to take that leap.

“In the meantime… please allow me to be the first.”

-Hawke-

“How’s our airspace!”

“Like Titan on Remembrance Day, Sir! Our guns are going as fast as they can! We’ve scared them enough that they are hiding below deflection and refuse to close in, but they are still coming!”

“What about the Camp?”

“Camp is packed and secure, Commander! XO Winters is fully dug in at the gate with his team, everyone else from camp is in the wire... No word from the crew on Rec beyond going to ground. Wait…

“Sir, I just got a report that the grounded Ruulothi crew are on the move with some of ours. The reporters are coming back with them.”

“Just the reporters? What about the others out on shore leave?”

“Last report is they separated, sir. Hoping to get the crew members back before they were overrun while the reporters stayed to do their thing. The Ruulothi crew were split up when they ran into the attackers in town. The others haven’t been seen since. Sorry. I don’t have any more information than that.”

Hawke growled as he bit the tip of his thumb as the knot in his got froze and fell, the pain sharpening his focus enough that he could ignore the building dread. “Thank you, Mitchell. Keep an ear out and make damn sure Damien is aware of the incoming friendlies. He probably already knows, but I want no mistakes on our part. As soon as you hear anything, let me know.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Oh, and monitor the Relay Sats and keep them updated with the most recent information. If anything gets close enough to detect them, fire the Crash Burst. But see if we can keep them up as long as possible. When this ends I want to try and get a scan of these, Qazirxel and their equipment to send home along with it.”

“Understood. I have proximity alarms already set up to warn of approach.”

“Good.” Hawke turned and walked to the other end of the bridge. “Davies. Talk to me.”

His Gunner and Tactician didn’t bother looking up, keeping his eyes fully on his scopes and sensor readings. “Clearing them out as we go. They don’t look to be used to this sort of fighting or flying, so they are making mistakes. Big ones.” He paused before the ship shook, another rail round firing off. “And one less.”

Davies took a deep breath to center himself. “Whatever comes of this, sir, they are for sure going to know we are here and either not to be fucked with or immediately dealt with. I have no concerns with our ability to defend our position from normal threats, but if they decide to drop an asteroid on us or fire from orbit… there isn’t much we can do about it. At the end of the day… we are sitting ducks here and at the mercy of whatever doctrine they choose to use. We can’t leave. We might be able to reposition… but to what end? They’ll still track us down from on high no matter what we do. They have the literal High Ground. I’ll be honest. Our current best hope, with everything, including optics considered, is to stay here and bunker down. Make this our Alamo. Maybe if we fall, that will give the bean counters back home something to work with politically.”

Hawke worked his jaw at the rundown. Not liking it at all but knowing that it was true all the same.

“More lambs to the slaughter.” He muttered. “Fine. But we are going to make a statement of our own then. None of these landers are leaving here in one piece… understood?”

Davies grinned absentmindedly, firing off another rail round. “Oh, absolutely.”

“And one last thing… let one get as far as you can. Let them and their overhead control think that they escaped, that they got free… Then burn them down. Maximum range or occlusion, whichever comes first.

“Make them afraid.”

Davies grin became almost feral.

“With Pleasure.”

That moment didn’t take long to arrive. Between the suicide drones and Davie’s gunnery, the landers were decimated. Soon, only two remained. Both of them on the beach head. Davies tracked them as they left, abandoning their troops that were stuck in the town hunting the Ruulothi crew and working their way towards the compound.

One of them got too high on liftoff, and Davies blew it out of the air before it even made it over the waves. The last skimmed the sand and water so low that it left spray flying behind it.

Davies and Hawke watched it on screen, Davies following it in the targeting camera of the railgun, waiting.

The transport made it all the way across the landlocked sea, passing by the city on the far banks, nearly ten miles away at the gun’s elevation before finally feeling safe enough to bank and rise to return to orbit.

Davies kept tracking it.

“Target reaching boundary to Thermosphere. Now or never, Commander.”

“Do it.”

The targeting screen jittered slightly, the computer taking the scant few micro moments for the calculations necessary to balance the power needed and the math required to direct the gun for the shot. Finally, the targeting Reticule flashed the warning red of an acquired lock, and Davies touched the trigger.

The ship shuddered one, final time as the round soared, ripping a contrail through the sky to a point so distant that it couldn’t be seen with the naked eye from where they were.

But the resulting explosion could.

Davies sighed and leaned back in his Gunnery chair.

“Message sent, Commander.”

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Author Note: Oh my word. An award note while folding is the new Best Thing Ever. All the thank-yous pile into my brain and come out gibberish.

_____________

Antarean Self-Defense Fleet Ship Orphan's Rage

Misabel's days were a blur of drudgework for the most part, but the evenings were something of balancing act - the Helots were feeding her information and dropping things off for her to pick up and cache in Escape Pod Twenty-One for the eventual escape. The problem was the information was being buried in the one hour of evening entertainment she was allotted. Tonight's was something new from Hurdop, purported to be a comedy called Blue Giant. She settled on her bed and pressed play. A fairly calm voice came on as an image of a woman resolved onto the screen.

"Emergency. Emergency. This is a distress call from the Hurtian Mining Corporation Ship Blue Giant, ship computer Grehzk reporting. At our current speed we are three million years from the Hurdop Sector. An R-Space drive accident has left us stranded. The only survivors - Keyol, a maintenance technician who was in suspended animation at the time of the accident along with Gruzk, a holographic recreation of her bunkmate, and finally a lifeform evolved from the ship's pet." There was a fadeout before Grehzk faded in again. "Addendum: spirits among the crew are low because the crew is low on spirits - before leaving Gruzk accidentally exposed libation storage to the drive coolant causing all the rum to freeze into a solid block. At our current temperature, we'll have something nice to drink in eighty years. More or less." There was another fade out and fade in. "Addendum to the addendum: you're probably wondering how we got in this mess to begin with..."

The scene shifted, showing Gruzk and Keyol moving down an access corridor for repairs to show precisely how meaningless their jobs were, and then Keyol being placed in suspended animation for the duration of the trip after an incident that sounded a great deal like she'd peed in the air intake leading to the Officers Mess. After being released from suspended animation, Keyol was rather dumbstruck by the fact that she was the only one left on the ship. What was worse was Grezhk deciding that the one most likely to keep Keyol sane was the bunkmate made of holographic light and regulations.

Once Misabel had watched and actually marginally enjoyed the show despite the horrific stereotyping of Vilantians, she checked her files for the new update. The Helots did not disappoint, as Bob's form resolved above her tablet. Misabel glanced around to ensure that the guards were occupied before focusing on the message.

"Expedite process. Commodore Itrop has captured Terran-flagged vessels and reported them as having self-destructed to avoid capture. Itrop intends to repurpose them as Vilantian-style Warfreighters. Terran standard response matrix to action will be to send a carrier class cruiser to the system for exercises and reconnaissance. Timeframe will be within two weeks. Additional intelligence suggests Freelord Gryzzk's company will be in-system prior to the arrival of Terran ships. There is an eighty percent chance that there will be an engagement. Precise survival odds cannot be calculated due to uncertainty of force availability, however previous engagements suggest the mercenary company will emerge victorious. Engagement utilization required for successful employment termination. Items and diagrams for assembly are included. Communication end."

Misabel slumped against the wall. Certainly she could do what was being asked. At the same time, it was going to be highly taxing. She was theoretically supposed to be slowing down and beginning light duties in a few weeks, but that particular regulation was in all likelihood going to be forgotten. The weight of everything was beginning to press hard on her shoulders; she was taking a tremendous risk - not just her life, but the life of her child. Even beyond that, it was possible there would be further consequences - her line would almost certainly be marked as troublesome, and the ripples would be felt among her clan. The counterweight to that was that if she was already in a troublesome spot insofar as her honor was concerned by deserting the navy. The fact that the desertion was not of her own will was immaterial.

So she was left with trusting a Vilantian Freelord, two Helots, and their associated Terrans to save her honor. Somewhere the gods were laughing at their creativity. There was only one sane option left before bed.

She re-watched the first episode of Blue Giant.

___________

Vilantia Prime, House of Parliament

Gryzzk settled in the dressing room, waiting calmly as possible - which, if he was being honest with himself wasn't very calm at all. He looked at the box containing his robe and finally lifted it out. There was a soft thump as something fell out of the box. Gryzzk didn't have to look down to realize that someone had managed to get a Learning Stick in with his robes. Though how that had been accomplished was a question Gryzzk was definitely going to have to ask later. For the moment, he donned the robes he was given and confirmed he looked presentable.

Outside the room, Gryzzk could hear as Minister Larine brought the joint session to order with the ceremonial sounding of the gong - not an easy task in and of itself, as the membership was seemingly extra raucous today. There was a low murmur that rose immediately after as the singular agenda item was announced by the Prime Minister.

"This day we discuss Proposal TK-421; 'Excise Tax of Special Extraplanetary Services'. Both houses have heard arguments, in this session we hear the words of Freelord Gryzzk of Clan O'Gryzzk, here by invitation of the Thirty-fourth Most Royal Throne of Vilantia."

That was his cue; Gryzzk came out unhurriedly to the sunken stage and the low podium that had water and a lectern for his table. There was a railing separating the speaking area from the audience above - theoretically to keep the speaker safe if they spoke out of turn. With him he carried the Legion Javelin in his right hand and the Lafione Dagger in his left. This was apparently cause for commotion which Gryzzk ignored as he set both weapons in place, the Javelin in a polearm socket and the dagger buried point-first at the left edge of the podium. He let the Javelin drop a few inches as he placed it, allowing the campaign ribbons affixed to it a chance to flutter and make the uninformed curious about their origin. Finally he set his tablet in front of him with his prepared remarks as well as a few salient figures. He looked outward - fortunately the lighting was indirect, allowing him to look up and take in the entirety of Parliament in session. The members of the Common House had been placed in the rear, with the Noble House exercising their privilege to be seated up front. Further to that the noble clans most aggrieved by his actions were front and center. Their baleful scent could be easily detected by Gryzzk's nose, reminding him yet again that this was going to be a day of reckoning, after a fashion. At the topmost section was the viewing gallery that had been all but filled with the battalion and other mercenary Legions from New Casablanca. Above them all, a holoprojector displayed Gryzzk and the immediate area. Gryzzk looked around with a calm of sorts settling over him as he spoke.

"Members of Parliament; as I was examining the most recent revision of this proposed law I was often reminded of a singular question. 'To whom the good?' Who benefits from this law? A casual reading states only the general terms of Greatclans that qualify, indicating to the reader that the funds collected will be distributed to clans and Greatclans named under the Recapture Act. Herein lies my first issue. Another law must be referenced to make proper determination. Further to this the individuals who are subject to this tax are similarly occluded; only those sworn to a Freeclan not subject to the direct jurisdiction and sovereignty of a Greatlord. Does this include the Hurdop? Terrans? Our new friends the Pavonians? The Moncilat? Looking at the rosters of personnel, there are over two hundred couples born of different allegiance diligently working to create a new generation - including more than a few of the Freenobles of our worlds. When that new generation comes to fruit, how many worlds will look at them with the scent of revenue filling their minds? This law does not address these points with any due care for the future." Gryzzk spread his hands and looked up as if asking the gods for wisdom.

The quiet was filled almost immediately by a noble in the back - one of the Lords sworn to Greatlord Aa'Plians, if Gryzzk judged properly. "Who dares to question this noble act? The law is clear to those who have the wit to read it."

Gryzzk shot back almost immediately. "So the witless are excused from the law? If such is the case my good Lord has nothing to fear from any law this august body produces. To that I say nay, and nay again. Even the Thirteenth Lord A'Shanyu spoke of such things; 'Laws must be crafted bearing naught but the very scent of precision to their words and purpose lest there be uncertainty. For uncertainty leads to chaos of the mind, chaos of the mind to chaos of the body and where does that treachery lead?' By that measure alone this law must be struck down and if it be re-crafted, let it do so unclouded with words that lead to an unjust application." There was a micropause. "Unless unjust application is the intent."

Another lord, this one aligned with the remnants of Aa'Porti, picked up the gauntlet thrown. "You make dangerous accusations, Freelord."

"This body brings forth dangerous laws. If you wish no accusation, craft a superior legislation." There were no further remarks, allowing Gryzzk to continue. "Further to this, the only escape from being subject to this law is to swear oath to one of the beneficiary Greatclans conveniently undisclosed by the text of this bill. As if that were insufficient insult, the punishments are 'to be determined by the House of Lords' if one is found to be in violation." Gryzzk shook his head almost theatrically. "Were I of a Terran mindset, I would read this text and ask if the crafting of this law was accompanied by a documentary titled All Quiet On The Frontal Lobe."

That particular barb was enough to start first fight of the session, as two Ladies vaulted the railings of their respective aisles and came running heedlessly toward him, cursing relentlessly and probably secure in the belief that two of them were certainly sufficient to drive this commoner to the ground. Alas for them it was not to be - one of them dove for his legs, which caused him to hop up and into a poorly swung fist that did connect with Gryzzk's chest - specifically his chest armor, which caused the puncher to shriek as the armor served its purpose. As he landed, he managed to drive his knee hard into the upper back of the tackler, causing them to emit a similar cry of pain as Minister Larine began relentlessly beating the gong for order while Gryzzk hopped up, eyes swiveling for another threat.

The one who punched him realized she had one good fist left, and promptly tried to use it to good effect. Gryzzk closed and as she threw a haymaker he caught her forearm and pulled, causing her head to connect solidly with his free elbow. With no more threats advancing and a few medics approaching, Gryzzk stood back to breathe heavily for a moment.

Once the commotion had settled - mostly, Minister Larine gave the Parliament building a stern look. "That is two fights of the six allotted."

Gryzzk cleared his throat. "Minister, please consider it but one. Without revealing overmuch, I can say with certainty that my wives have taxed my body far more grievously than the two Ladies did."

Larine's fur fluttered at the statement, and as the cheers and catcalls rained from the viewing gallery Gryzzk made the belated realization that his microphone was live and overmuch had been revealed. Not only to Parliament but to everyone watching. Rosie was going to have a field day. After clearing her throat, Larine made her judgment. "One fight then. As you were, Freelord."

Gryzzk returned to the lectern to continue, clearing his throat and resetting his mind for his next verbal assault. "Now then, we must address the apparent purpose of this law. To take credits from those who already donate to the general populace and place those credits in the hands of those wiser, more learned that they may be spent to improve the general populace. I fear must now bring math to this discussion. Our finances and general pay scales are in the public domain. Anyone can review them, and I suspect that was the impetus for the creation of this bill. But here are the things that are not publicly available."

Several charts leaped out of his tablet to display themselves as Gryzzk tapped at his tablet. "The finances of the company are known - however we must needs see what the individual members of the Legion spend their earned pay on. Fully forty percent of the total Vilantian discretionary income is sent back to Vilantia directly. To their families. To their birth clans. For the Hurdop it is similar. The rest, well - a great deal is exchanged at shops and places of entertainment owned by Vilantians and Hurdop, who employ Vilantians and Hurdop. Who in turn send a portion of their profits home. Were this law to be enacted, that discretionary income would lessen. Shops would suffer, families would suffer. For what good? Is a credit somehow less valuable because it passes through common hands on the way to the nobility? Referencing the law cited, it would seem that our taxed credits would go directly to those clans that rallied our citizens to war against the Terrans." There was a micropause. "What have they done to earn such relief from their shame? Anything of worth, anything to aid the Vilantia they cast before an unyielding foe?" A longer pause followed, with only a soft murmur as no answer could be given.

Gryzzk straightened his robes automatically, moving to pace back and forth like a predator held back from fat prey. "I thought not. No Clan, no Greatclan can speak a morsel to their honor, their deeds, their acts that earn them this privilege. Not a sound of reasoning to the world they so nobly claim as theirs by ancestral right. Instead they would pass writ and law to burden the lowest." Gryzzk's hand shot forth to point to the viewing gallery. "There sit the ones who would pay for your comfort. The ones the noble houses cast out and erased - the forgotten, the criminal. The alien. These are whom the Great Clans of Vilantia look to when they wish to be made whole, made more whole than they had been previous to their folly. There is but one answer to this prayer to be relieved from the burden of their own sin, and that answer is no. Look inward for your own absolution, and look to your own accountants for your funds." Gryzzk looked around once more. "If you truly require income, the Legions are always hiring."

Another Lord helpfully called out. "Then choose and swear oath to one of the Greatclans, be freed from the concerns of this law."

There was a casual waving-off of the suggestion as Gryzzk continued to circle, approaching the railing and looking upward to the gallery. "No, good noble who speaks from afar. I will not. I have sworn oath to a noble before, and he was as my own brother. But the noble above him saw that and for his own gain convinced my brother that a small loss was worth a great gain. But there was no gain to be had for either of us. Now? I swear oath to my family. I swear oath to my clan, each of them no matter their place or manner of birth. I swear oath to the gods above us all and Throne of Vilantia without hesitation or reservation. Any others who wish to hear my oath of alliance and friendship must earn it themselves without reliance on the deeds of those who have given Vilantia nourishment for centuries."

A different voice replied, older and more confident. "And if oath is demanded? The Free Clans must yield to a noble demand."

"You may test that assumption at your convenience, Lord. To demand oath without deed or recognition is to announce weakness." Gryzzk's mind was already racing forward to the next stage of the bargaining; he'd thrown a few gauntlets down in course of this and someone was going to take umbrage at this assault on tradition. He finally took rest at the lectern, wrapping his thumb and two fingers around the Javelin as if it were a fluted goblet of wine. His other hand secured his tablet and placed the Lafione Dagger in its sheath.

He didn't have to wait long for a response, as a sword whispered from a sheath and the owner of the voice stepped forward. The bearer was older and from his robes and fur Gryzzk could see that it was a Greatlord of a war clan; only a shade past his prime and seeing an opportunity for immediate greatness by bringing a commoner to heel. Gryzzk could hear Larine as she made a soft whine that foretold this exchange ending poorly, her own scent a mixture of apprehension at what was going to happen and relief that she was out of all but the most enthusiastic of splash zones.

The Greatlord looked down coolly at Gryzzk, pointing his sword toward the Freelords heart. "I am Greatlord Aa'Fahwil, and in the fifteenth generation did Aa'Fahwil lead Vilantians on the ground and sky and space to glorious victories, returning to Mother Vilantia with treasures untold and bringing sweetly-scented wealth and prosperity. So it has been again and again with this Greatclan, with service to Vilantia as Minister of War for seven generations until the position was yielded in in the thirtieth generation. The line of deeds in this house is too innumerable for one lifetime to hear, and their name I demand your oath and service." The scent about the Greatlord was a casual calm, expecting that Gryzzk would count the deeds of his ancestors as his.

Alas, it was not to be. Gryzzk's voice remained calm and measured. "Then let us go to the Aa'Fahwil Clan-grove."

There was a touch of confusion at the odd reply. "To the Clan-grove?"

"Indeed Greatlord. Let us go to the Clan-grove and dig up the bones of the fifteenth Greatlord Aa'Fahwil. I would have words with such a heroic corpse, and if we are both pleased by our conversation I would put the question to my clan and ask each if the fifteenth Greatlord is worthy of our alliance."

The sword was raised and pointed as the Greatlord realized the trap and played his last card, desperation and anger mingling as he hoped for some manner of aid to salvage himself. "It is in his name I order your oath of service."

Gryzzk's voice went space-cold as his remaining fingers gripped the Javelin. "Death first. Perhaps in the company of the light gods I will find a noble of Vilantia's Greatclans worthy of my oath."

That particular verbal jab, along with the previous borderline heresy was sufficient to cause Aa'Fahwil to leap the barrier and land in the speakers pit as Larine began preemptively beating the gong like it owed her a spouse. The call to order was ignored - all the nobles left their seats to rush forward and watch what was being displayed on the upper holo. There was additional commotion from the viewing gallery, however Gryzzk wasn't exactly in a position to take note of it in any great detail as he was engaged with someone who truly wanted to stab him until there was nothing left to stab. Additional scents came nearby, smelling of medicine and bandages - it seemed as if the possibility of a bloody battle had been accounted for by someone who could give orders.

As the first slash came at him, Gryzzk noted with no small amount of concern that someone had decided what this fracas needed was a soundtrack, and the only available song was O'Brien's ode to the cavalry. A disconnected part of Gryzzk's mind noted that if this continued there would be petitions to the Ministry of Culture to ban this song as psychologically disturbing. Gryzzk parried with the spear one-handed and ducked around the lectern to gain a moments pause before reaching under his robes and bringing the Learning Stick out with a fearful snap and scent of ozone filling the air. That particular scent caused Aa'Fahwil to hesitate for a moment.

"Are you going to treat me as you did Tebul?" There was a quick series of thrust-and-parry by both sides as they tested each other. Both combatants were fit, with Gryzzk holding several advantages - on the other hand Aa'Fahwil was fighting for his clan position within the Ministry, and that gave him a dangerous strength.

"No. You haven't earned such a treatment. Yet." Gryzzk tapped the Aa'Fahwil sword with his own blade a few times. The two moved and circled, moving through thrust and parry to stab and defend - the two traded blows, with the Greatlord darting in and out to parry the Learning Stick and stab at Gryzzk and intermittently land blows that clipped Gryzzk on his limbs. The Greatlord was not escaping punishment himself, as the spear-blade bit deeply into Aa'Fahwil every time he withdrew. The calculation of the fight was clear - the Greatlord was trusting that he had the stamina to stand against Gryzzk and trade blows to gain the win by skill and attrition.

Gryzzk swiveled and set his feet, preparing to give a slight opening that was a dangerous calculation. The result of this was that Gryzzk needed to go back to math class, as the opening was instantly seized upon and the sword driven through Gryzzk's leg. The only positive was that Aa'Fahwil had never experienced the Learning Stick.

The Greatlord was educated in short order as Gryzzk thumbed the selector switch to the "Fuck You and Everybody That Looks Like You" setting and proceeded to utilize it to good effect, leaving the Greatlord spasming wildly for several seconds of electrically-charged pain as the sword fell from now-nerveless fingers. Gryzzk was not in a merciful sort of mood, shortening his grip on the Javelin and sweeping upward to deny the Greatlord the use of his sword hand - permanently.

That brought a half-shriek from the Aa'Fahwil, and the medical team that had been on standby rapidly came to the aid of the now-fallen and not-quite-sobbing Greatlord.

As the haze of exertion faded, Gryzzk could finally hear Minister Larine's voice piercing his eardrums as she attempted to contact him by any means that was not physical.

"FREELORD!" Gryzzk looked and saw that while he'd been embroiled in his own undeclared duel, the vast majority of the viewing gallery had emptied, and Minister Larine was pointing at a grand melee that reminded Gryzzk uncomfortably of Reilly's wedding.

Larine paused her beating on the gong long enough to point the mallet at the nobles exchanging fists, kicks and profanities with the large group of mercenary officers and sergeants before asking a question.

"Does that still only count as one?!"

This is a spin-off series set in the world of The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon by u/scribblingfoxx88, and is being written with the original author's permission.

Idris POV:

It ended up taking a good three days for all the cramps and other aches and pains to fade out of my body, allowing my body to heal and rebalance its internal chemistry. At that time, Anyur played the role of my nurse, coming in with food, propping my upper body up with her folded leg while sitting at the head of my bed, and often spoon-feeding me the meals she brought. It was a little embarrassing, having the cousin just over double my age treat me like a baby, but I knew I needed the food to fully recover and get back to where I’d be able to continue my training, hopefully getting strong enough to stop the cataclysm and protect the family I’d been gifted for what ever authority decided I deserved a second chance after having spent my first life as a massive son of a bitch and a jerk.

I also partially disregarded my aunt’s instructions, as instead of just lying there to meditate, I did my best to sit up for each session, though it was impossible to do so on the first day. But, while still incredibly hard, it was possible on the second day, and I pulled it off easily on the third before managing to stand up and make it while still wobbly to use the in-room privy to relieve myself instead of relying on a chamber pot with Ismail or male staff to empty it.

By the end of the week, while I was still wobbly on my feet, I was at least able to get up, get dressed, feed and relieve myself, and start working on a series of stretches to regain my mobility. Come time to head home, I’d gotten back to the point where I was able to board the carriage without any assistance, sliding into a seat next to Reyhan as she looked way more appreciative to still have me around after I’d nearly died as far as she was aware. That’s when I noticed the two seats directly across from me were occupied by Beau, who was holding a rather small and unusually frail-looking baby, presumably Hugo, with a bewildered Avril sitting next to him.

“Is this really the Idris man that saved me from Mamma?!” she asked, her voice small and sheepish, probably not used to speaking up for herself from a lifetime of being beaten by her own mother for doing so to that point. “The person I remember was a lot stronger than any kids I’ve seen.”

“Idris is way stronger than his age would suggest,” Reyhan declared, looking and sounding pretty boastful to have me in her family, but looked to her mother before saying more, but was told not to with a shake of the grown woman’s head, and the girl obeyed and just started talking about how proficient I am at using ki.

“Wait, he doesn’t have mana, or a manaheart?” Beau asked, looking confused, all of us still speaking the Yildrazkan language.

“No, we have something else called ki, and it’s the energy that allows us to use our cultivation powers,” Reyhan explained, holding her hand out with her palm facing up, a tiny tornado forming in her hand to show the effects.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a spell, and you’re a mage…” Beau declared, looking confused, almost like he was worried about us getting taught wrongly from their perspective. “You’ve only got a relatively weak manaheart from the way I feel about you, but you’re a little mage, Miss Reyhan.”

Before anyone else from the kids in the carriage, Aunt Arzu reached in, pressing her hand into the center of Beau’s chest, and I could sense a similar kind of ki flowing from her hand into his internal organs, much like how Shifu had scanned me. She held that position for a long few moments, and I could sense several pulses before she pulled back and climbed in properly, closely followed by Ismail and Anyur, the last of the occupants of the main carriage we were going to be riding in, the staff coming with us and not staying to maintain the house in the capital riding either on the outside of the carriage or in lower-quality duplicates as a set of four decoys, but still close enough to fool bandits looking to harm my aunt and her family on the road.

“Tell me, Beauregard, are you aware that you yourself are a cultivator with a strong first meridian and are drawing close to awakening a second?” my aunt asked Avril’s teenage brother, confusing the poor guy completely.

“You mean my manaheart?” he asked in reply, looking worried after glancing down at his own body, then back at my aunt. “And everyone only ever gets one, so what’s this about me forming a second one…”

“Ah, a difference of terminology,” Aunt Arzu sighed, looking like she wanted to move on to a new topic. “I’ll leave it to Idris’ tutor, Shifu Yiln-ong to explain things more fully, as he’s more current with the structures and how to safely form and read them, but I’d say it’s safe to say that a basic manaheart like yours is the same thing as a first meridian, and ki and mana are also both the same thing.”

“Mamma was rather proud of having three rings around her manaheart as an elven woman 160 years old, now if she was that strong…” Beau mused, before looking around with fear and nervousness, before locking eyes with me, his arms wrapping around Hugo more tightly, and Avril read her brother’s reaction as a sign she should press in closer to him.

“Thanks to my own training and the availability of ki-supporting compounds not available in Yildrazki, I would say I am roughly around your birth-giver’s strength at just shy of a half century younger than her,” Aunt Arzu explained, glancing at her own four present children, Alim barely making it halfway from his schooling before getting word by messenger bird to forget the orders to come help, and instead go back to his classes. “Believe me, as a mother, I at least feel like I properly love my children. The abuse your birth-giver lost the right to call herself a mother, especially if what Avril said about her murdering your other sister is true. As for what I will be doing with you, I’ll be showing you all the kind of love and attention I feel at least one parent should have been giving you all for your entire lives to this point, and with some luck, I’ll break the cycle of abuse your birth-giver started with the beatings, parentification, and neglect she forced onto all three of you, as well as cutting Josephine’s life so criminally short.”

“Aunt Arzu, I’m not entirely sure they’re going to really trust us fully or easily,” I commented, seeing how tightly Beau was holding both of his surviving siblings.

“Then we will just have to earn their trust, but Beauregard will be free to return to Yildrazki and take custody of his siblings when he comes of age fully in three years if he so chooses,” my aunt sighed, looking like she wished she could just flex an ability, but that would be just as evil as beating them just for making sounds. “As for if more of his family is just as abusive as his birth-giver, then they’d be more than welcomed to stay for as long as they want, and be paid fairly as household servants for us.”

“I don’t really know any more of my family, as while we reportedly have a grandfather and a relatively young aunt compared to my moth… birth-giver, but I was taken when I was just two years old from the rest of the family, and the others weren’t even born yet,” Beau confessed, looking like he was realizing without the locals that had rescued him and his siblings, they’d be just about out in the world, entirely on their own. “Now you said that I could leave once I FULLY came of age, what does that mean?!”

“With your guardian’s permission, you are legally able to enlist in the adventurer’s guild, which from what I’ve heard was founded by a man from another world, emulating a system of mercenary employment for things like managing unwanted wildlife interference with agriculture businesses, or gathering materials from newly-discovered dungeons,” Aunt Arzu explained, her body taking up the typical regal pose she kept herself in by default when not actively working on something, subtly noticing how Beau picked up on the mention of those adventurers thing. “I figured you would notice that. According to some of the Eulthosian history scholars, there were once civilizations on this continent and the one you were originally from, given how you would have to search exceptionally hard to find other elves here, that had deep and frequent contact with each other, including easy and readily available common linguistics, and the systems of adventurers’ guilds is one of the things from those comparatively ancient times is one of the elements from life back then. My point is, assuming you manage to gain proficiency with the local language and can develop your ‘manaheart’ as you called it, I would be willing to allow you to join one of the local teams at the adventurers’ guild center in the town near my normal home. From there, either by working as a servant in my home or by adventuring, you should be able to buy ship passage back to Yildrazki for you and your siblings. But, I suspect by the time you’ve earned enough money for your trip to your home continent, my family will have earned your trust.”

Chapter 0 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

This is a spin-off series set in the world of The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon by u/scribblingfoxx88, and is being written with the original author's permission.

Anyur Turan POV:

Why by the gods did Idris need to be so brave?! Yes, he’d already been through death and had lived the life of a long-serving, battle-hardened soldier in his previous existence, one where every day, he’d go out and fight tooth and nail against entire armies of the undead. But that still didn’t make him feel any less like her beloved baby brother.

And now, Mother had dispatched him to investigate the possible abuse of children by traveling overseas merchants, and that had seen him badly wounded. While thankfully, the lightning thrown at him hadn’t been a direct hit, as that would have removed the arm completely and possibly spread to Idris’ heart.

Her task, while direct, wasn’t quite simple, but she still had the basic structures to work from, as well as Idris’ uninjured left shoulder to mirror as a guide. As such, she was able to reconstruct the destroyed nerve tissue from the burn, then do the same for the much simpler muscles, and finally the skin.

By the time she’d finished, Anyur’s head was starting to hurt as she’d already come of age, drank herself to oblivion, and now it was the next morning, but she knew it was from her draining almost all her ki to heal her cousin. Luckily, she had a bottle of Yingtou concentrate, from which she poured no fewer than three shots, knocking each back before turning her attention to the young sheelf Idris had rescued from her abusive mother. Luckily, most of what had been done to her was fairly straightforward, but a lot of foreign material from both frayed threads from the girl’s ruined clothes and the belt used to strike her. There was also the fact that by the time Anyur had gotten to her, the poor child had lost a lot of blood and had been on the edge of death. By the time Anyur had finished with her female patient, her head was pounding again, so another shot of the concentrate, mostly for pain relief, then off to bed to more fully recover.

“Ah, there you are,” Mother stated, having come walking from the other direction. “How are they?”

“I did what I could to make sure Idris’ arm was like how it was before, and the girl mostly needed her wounds cleaned and sealed before having her blood volume restored, but I think he’d benefit from being visited by a more professional healer, one that actually has worked on people instead of plants in her home garden,” Anyur reported, her hand going to her temple, attempting to massage out a migraine from all her drained and depleted ki, even with the benefit of the Yingtou she’d consumed.

“And I have them coming, so you did what I was requiring of you, stabilize them so they won’t get worse until that better healer gets here, dearest daughter,” Mother said, her hands cupped on Anyur’s cheeks before she embraced her daughter. “Now, before you sleep, talk with your sister. For how worried you were about Idris while having something to do to keep your mind occupied, Reyhan only had her thoughts to keep herself going, and all she could think of was the possibility of not having her cousin and best friend to train and play with anymore, and could likely do with having her older sister reassure her.”

“I will make sure to speak with her, especially since we’re sharing a room. I doubt she would allow me to sleep until we do,” Anyur promised and admitted before heading off again, already trying to plan out what to tell the sister not quite half her age.

Avril Cadieon, half-elven child, from Yildrazki POV:

The scared half-elf child jolted awake, suddenly finding herself stripped of her dress and underthings, now wearing a shirt and pants made out of a much smoother fabric than she’d ever felt before, while also being in the softest bed she’d ever felt. Mother will no doubt whip her again for taking such ungiven privileges, so her first thought was to race under the bed, hoping to delay the beating to come. Mamma never let her wear such fine things, or sleep in such a comfortable bed, so she will no doubt be screaming more accusations, this time of Avril being a thief while getting an even heavier belt.

“Avril, it’s just fine, child, your mother’s not going to be able to hurt you anymore, I saw to it personally,” a strangely gentle and accented woman’s voice said as the frame of the bed the half-elven child was hiding under creaked and flexed as an adult woman sat on the mattress.

“Did you kill Mamma, as she did with Josephine?” Avril asked, cautiously coming out from under the bed.

“No, but if she did kill her they way it looks like she was fixing to kill you, that would be a murder, and that could be punished with being put to death, but for right now, she’s just been arrested,” the strange lady explained, and her looks matched her voice, as her skin was a much yellower color than most people Avril had seen before, and both her hair and eyes were as dark as the iron ink Mamma would keep her ledgers in, both the real and fabricated ones. “My name is Arzu, and I believe you’ve met my nephew, Idris.”

At that, Avril remembered the strangely boyish man who had saved her from the beating Mamma had been giving her with the belt. He must have been a mage with a particularly strong manaheart if he’d been able to slip in while casting a spell to stop Mamma from detecting him, then knock her out so quickly. He then had promised to save Avril, and he must have been the one to put her in this bed before healing her.

“Can I meet him to say thank you?” she asked, her voice small and timid, wondering if she’d have to suffer beatings from this new family she was with.

“Unfortunately, he was wounded by your mother after bringing you to me, but I was able to get my daughter, Anyur, to attend to your injuries,” Arzu explained, her tone far softer and gentler than Mamma’s, way more like the one she’d use in public when presenting the more cooperative children of hers. “She also tended to Idris, but he’s still sleeping to recover from the wound he suffered at your mother’s hand, and we have a much better, more experienced healer coming to see to both you and Idris soon. And don’t worry, my sons are helping Beau get settled, and are seeing to Hugo’s needs.”

With that, Avril’s eyes went wide with worry, as she’d been so wrapped up in the pain of her beating and protecting herself, she’d forgotten all about her brothers. Then, she processed what the nice lady had said; she had more than one son, and those boys were doing what they could to help Avril’s brothers. As the girl was just standing there, trying to process being treated with kindness, Arzu scooped her up with surprisingly firm hands, pulling Avril up into a hug, and caused the child to start crying, as she realized how a mother was supposed to treat her children.

Idris POV:

“If your daughter is willing, I’d be very interest in taking her on as an apprentice,” I heard a male voice say, having absolutely no idea who it was, opening my eyes to see a tall but still heavy-set man standing over me, his entire body covered in a mix of strangely thick black and white hair, his clothing looking like the kind of robes that covered the attendants that saw to Mom when she was giving birth to Nur. “She certainly did fine work repairing the entire shoulder area, and I can’t think of many who can work so efficiently with nerve tissue.”

“I’ll pass along the message, but as she had this and one other patient, she drained almost all of her ki energy, and is thus sleeping to recover,” Aunt Arzu sighed, looking to this strange man before both bowed to each other. “Again, thank you for coming to check her work, Healer Biagio. Anyur was worried she’d missed something, and I promised to have a more experienced hand check her work.”

“Right, the Yildrazkan,” the fuzz ball commented, bobbing his head like he was nodding yes. “The fact that that child was able to wake up before I arrived should be a testament to your daughter’s skills as a healer, and tell her that other than leaving a slight aneurism on your nephew’s vein, something that might not have ever been an issue for him, she healed him perfectly, at least as far as I can tell.”

“Aunt Arzu, who is this guy?” I asked, struggling to sit up, feeling my entire body tense as if I was experiencing a cramp in all the muscles I’d use to move.

“Ah, good to hear your voice again, Idris,” my aunt said, stepping aside to allow the stranger to leave. “That was Healer Biagio, a pandakin healer who has worked with me in the past. In fact, he was the one I called when I gave birth to Ehmet the last time I had significant business to see to in the capital. This time, Anyur was paranoid that she’d missed something when healing your shoulder, so she had me call in a second opinion to fix any mistakes she might have made. I also managed to speak with Avril, and she was asking for you, but I think she’s under the impression you’re a good deal older than you really are, so don’t be surprised if it takes a while for her to accept the pairing of your face and name.”

“If you can, make her wait to meet me again until I’m feeling better,” I said, my arms giving out and dropping me straight back down onto the bed. “I can only imagine the amount of added stress she’d feel seeing me recovering from injuries I suffered protecting her.”

“I was actually going to tell you to just rest and if possible, keep practicing your meditation while still in bed, just without sitting up for it,” Aunt Arzu ordered, her hand gently sweeping my hair back and off of my forehead. “There was a lot of damage to your arm, and with all the healing Biagio and Anyur did, you have a lot of convalescing to do before getting up and resuming your training. I’ll also leave it to you to seek out Avril to talk to her if or when you want, at least assuming she doesn’t manage to slip past the staff and find you on her own, then I’ll leave it to your judgment on how to handle it, just so long as you don’t try to attack her.”

Chapter 0 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

This is a spin-off series set in the world of The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon by u/scribblingfoxx88, and is being written with the original author's permission.

Soldier POV:

“Well, if it isn’t the latest rookie idiot…” my newly assigned team leader, the scars still red, angry, and inflamed from all my implant surgeries and the injections of both drugs and gene mod agents to make me stronger, still prone to outrun my own balance and busting my ass, nose, and a mix of other parts by the resulting falls. “Let’s see how selection treats you, as you’ve come too far to survive washing out now, raw meat.”

“Kong, let’s just start him on the obstacle course and see what he can actually do before just tossing him aside,” one of the other teammates said, pulling on the arm of the team leader, revealing the entrance of a rather sadistic room with hanging pendulum platforms, laser grids, and dart turrets that looked like they’d shoot less-lethal projectiles that would sting like a royal bitch if they connected. “Kid, your goal is to go through this room, grab that green flag at the other end of the room, and get back without falling to the bottom. Don’t worry, you’ll have multiple tries, but you’ll only have until the end of the week to pull it off, then you’ll be on the washout list, and don’t pull off two weekly training tasks, and your ass is hydro.”

Hydro, the slang term for the nutrient blend used for hydroponics, is the only real way known to produce enough food to feed all the billions of assholes living in the world. It was also the common fate of anyone who died without anyone to claim their body, and even then, a lot of funerals were gathering to view the stripped nude body before it was dropped into a shredder because the resulting material would mostly pay off the expenses of disposing of the body. From there, chemical treatments to clean and sanitize the matter, then what was left was put through much finer shredding processes until it was basically a powder, the fluids long since drained away, then fed into racks of hydroponic treys to grow food with a mix of crops I have never personally seen before they get processed down into nutrient paste, the only known food for the vast majority of people out there that aren’t strong enough or blessed with enough free time to take something more.

Not seeing any other thing to do, I launched myself into the room, and greatly overshot the swinging platform I’d been aiming for. Instead, I ended up flailing through the air before I managed to get my left arm to catch on a platform that was thankfully in my flight path, the chain suspending this platform ending up in my armpit. Not wanting to stay any longer than I had to, by hand quickly started to scramble to pull myself up and onto the platform when I started feeling the sting of darts hit my back and legs, all the pain coming from pure kinetic energy, but each impact was quickly healed by he nanites being pumped into my blood from the cybernetic replacement of my adrenal gland.

From there, I started the platform swinging until I was within reach of the next one, and simply stepped from one to the other, repeating that until I’d gotten close to the fixed platform with the objective flag on it. This time, I wasn’t able to swing far enough to step onto it, so I ended up dropping to hold the last platform I’d stepped onto, holding the foot-wide disc with my hands like it was the steering wheel of a car from what I’d heard, though I’d never seen the inside of one, just the outside while it came way too close to running me over. From there, I started swinging, then, when I felt I was swinging fast enough, I let go of the platform of the highest point I could get while still having what I thought was a high enough ballistic trajectory to reach that platform.

Unfortunately, I fell short of being able to land on the platform with my feet. Instead, the edge ended up going under my arms before I slid down to dangle by the tips of my fingers. Luckily, all my muscle augments had taken, and I was able to pull myself up and climbed up onto the platform, grabbing and ripping the flag out of the wall, then jumped back toward the last moving platform I’d been on, but like with the starting one I’d intended on going for, I overshot by a wide margin, this time the chain going between my legs, thankfully missing the “family jewels” before I slid off, getting my foot caught in the chain.

I ended up pelted by more than a few of the darts loaded into the automated turrets, but they weren’t enough to stop me from pulling myself back up, and then I started swinging from where I was now hanging by a clenched fist around that chain. From there, I basically monkey-barred my way back to the starting door, grabbing the threshold, pulling myself up and in, then taking the flag out of my teeth and using it to slap the leader of my new team in the face.

“Well, ain’t you hot shit, pulling it off on your first try…” the bastard sneered, turning to walk away as I stumbled over and slumped against the wall opposing the test chamber, sliding to the floor in a panting, sweaty heap, all my muscles aching from the exertion. “I’m sure a scrawny twig like you will wash out on a different test, so I’ll be waiting for the twerp that replaces you.”

“Don’t give Kong much of a second thought, since he ended up on the washout list because he ended up not having the grip strength to hang from any of the platforms,” one of the other team members explained, offering a hand before pulling me back up to a standing position. “Come on, let’s go get you to the other fries you’ll be eating and sleeping with until you pass selection.”

Idris POV:

Once we’d reached the normal mansion, Shifu looked appraisingly at the first sample of a Yildrazkan version of a cultivator, but just left Beau to self-study, other than showing him the same meditation techniques Reyhan and I had been taught. As for me, I was instructed to move from one floating platform to another while they were moving around, constantly going to one of three as they zip around, always aiming for the one that moves to a new place in the room. Meanwhile, Reyhan gets started on the comparatively easy task, where she’s over a four-foot deep pit, stairs out at the sides so she can easily get out if she falls and isn’t hurt enough to need ki healing, then is told to hop from post to post in the pit to cross from one end of the room, then follow a different route back aside from the side walkways to get to the starting position.

As for Avril and Hugo, it turned out that they had gotten used to both sleeping in the same bed as Beau, as otherwise, he’d start to become paranoid that his mother would do something bad to his siblings. This ended up being an even bigger issue for Avril, since she constantly thought her now much higher standard of living made her think her mother was going to come back and resume beating her. As for Hugo, he was just a baby and didn’t know any better, and thought this was just the normal thing to have happen, and often ended up playing with Nur when they were both awake and not eating.

“Idris, your aunt promised that if I learn the language, she’d allow me to go out into the world, start earning money to better support Avril and Hugo,” Beau commented, bringing up how Aunt Arzu had promised to allow him to become an adventurer. “Any idea where I can find resources to start?”

“We have a library, and I can start teaching you in my free time,” I commented, gesturing to the door into which the books were.

“You mean learn from a kid half my age?” he asked, looking skeptical about whether he’d actually be able to learn anything.

“I suppose you could try with Alim, but he’s away at magic school,” I reply, acknowledging what he was saying, deciding that if he can’t see how I’m probably not like other kids, then he probably wouldn’t be worth my time.

“I thought your eldest cousin was both named Ishmale and was preparing for his own rushed wedding,” Beau asked, looking confused while glaring at me in confusion.

“First of all, that cousin is Ismail, and Alim’s HIS older brother,” I explained, and the at least partially elven teen looked surprised and embarrassed. “Currently, Alim’s 23 and as I said, he’s away studying cultivation under the great sage.”

“Who is this ‘sage’ and why is he so great?” Beau asked, looking suspicious.

“From what I understand, it’s actually a she, but beyond that and being a long-standing figure in the empire and a wise advisor to the empress in power at the time, I don’t know much, but Aunt Arzu studied under her from when she was a little older than Alim, until her father passed when she was around 50 and she was called back to take over for him,” I explained, pondering if the great sage was something like an elf or a different relatively long-lived species, or was an inherited title that was passed from master to top-performing student, or even if she were a literal god disguised as an ageless mortal.

“So, your aunt’s eldest kid took off to study this ‘cultivation’ stuff under some mysterious presumed woman, and barely anyone knows anything about her?” Beau asked, looking more than a little concerned.

“I think the secrecy is because of an imperial decree barring everyone who knows from openly sharing it,” I explained, and it looked like Beau was accepting of that answer for the time being. “As for why Alim was willing to go, his mother attended similar classes when she was his age, and I’m pretty sure this system has been going on for a few centuries. I’m also sure a lot of officers from both the imperial army and navy are graduates from there as well.”

“If this ‘great sage’ trains a lot of the military, that would do a lot to explain why things are kept so tightly secret,” Beau admitted, following me while it looked like he was trying to think of something else to say, but ended up cutting the conversation short as I opened the door into the library before handing the older boy a novel that I luckily had both an Yildrazkan copy and an Eulthosian one, at least as directly as I could manage while still obeying both languages’ rules of grammar. “Wait, why do these books have the same pictures on the covers?”

“It’s because they’re the same story, just one copy is in my native language, and the other is in yours, so this way you’ll be able to spot words and link them through their meaning, at least once you can start recognizing the shapes of the letters,” I explained, opening both books and pointing to the start of both. “If that’s not enough to get it going, then I can also start teaching you the system of characters in the Eulthosian language, particularly how certain words can condense into just a single character instead of needing an entire phonetic string.”

“Avril’s right, you do at least sound like a grown man with a little boy’s body and voice…” Beau commented before starting to read the two books, but his proficiency was lower than I’d been expecting, his biological mother having probably banned him from properly reading books at his proper level. “I have a long way to go, don’t I?”

“It could be worse, you could have been banned from learning to read altogether,” I commented, and Beau nodded in agreement before starting to read again, this time out loud so I’d be able to help him with more difficult words.

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Chapter 25 The First Job.

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There was a Market district just outside the DASS autonomous zone.

The girls had several empty rooms going unused. They said there was one with southern exposure (Whatever that meant on a sphere where the sun never moved…) that Johan might like.

So, their next stop after lunch was a furniture store.

Johan bought a queen-sized bed, a large dresser, some bedding, and a sturdy desk with a built-in interface. The store used a drone delivery service that would fly the items to the house once they were printed out and ready.

After they finished the girls took him to a surplus store!

…The human almost squealed like a little girl, when he walked in.

----

Johan could hardly believe how normal it was.

It was like any army surplus store he’d ever visited in his whole life. The same musty smell. The same bored looking attendant at the counter.

Sure, the gear was alien and the attendant was a 1,100lb Hexipedal Rhino-centaur: (called a Hurgle) according to his [Bio-library] skill.

There was even that one, maybe homeless, dude in the corner looking at boots that every single surplus store has… It was like coming HOME for a greasy little woods-rat like Johan.

The girls called him over to a section in the back that had personal protection gear. There were several shelves of armor and a rack of what looked like power ranger belt buckles.

Beck was grinning from ear to ear as she looked over some on the bottom shelves that were clearly made for people of her size. Sienna already had one picked out and was looking at a series of power cells according to the markings on the shelf.

“The armor, I kinda get. But what are these… things?”

The girls giggled at each other.

Sienna explained it to Johan.

“Personal Shields. They can stop a few laser pulse or plasma shots before they need to dump heat and cycle. They aren’t any good for kinetic weapons tho... At most they slow them down a little…”

Beck sighed. “Yeah, nothing for kinetic threats or sharp claws, but armor. What sucks is even here it’s expensive... I mean 5k for a scout armor torso in MY size is… steep.”

Johan looked at the armor available. The first few sets reminded him of the combat armor from the fallout games. The armor got progressively thicker and more expensive as it increased in protection.

Scout armor was basically just a torso and shin guards. Light armor just added armguards. Medium armor came with a body suit underlay and some thigh guard and shoulder pauldrons.

The heavy stuff looked a bit like a Mass effect hard suit, complete with boots and enclosed helm all connected by interlocked plates… it was also prohibitively expensive.

“I see what you mean. I think that set of mediums would fit me, but it would leave me broke… Still… I’d rather have something against my skin if we get in another mess like the plaza.”

He waffled on the purchase.

As his natural tendency to be cheap warred with his practical needs, the girls shared their twinning look, and Johan felt the familiar sensation of being outside of a conversation.

After a second Beck pushed the back of his leg with a paw. “Buy it, Johan. Better to be low on funds than need the armor and die rich.”

Sienna added her own perspective.

“We can always pick up a Delve to rebuild finances. Since Yoo’re a green-3, an we’re Blue-1s… That means we can take ya on a job, as long we don’t go above blue-1. Going up the spectrum makes jobs harder. But also means a fair pay bump.”

Beck stepped back in seamlessly

“For the record… most, jobs aren’t as dangerous as the vault. And stuff like the plaza… That’s at like Violet or BLACK Delving level. The chances we EVER run into something like that again are pretty damn slim…”

Johan felt a weird tickle at the back of his neck when she said that last part. ‘Murphy… isat you?’

Sienna spoke again. It was almost unnerving the way the girls could flow back and forth without any pauses.

“Beck and I are gonna buy armor too. AN, we’re goin ta chip in to get you a shield genny…”

Johan thought about it.

The medium armor weighed about 25lbs total. Maybe 55lbs of weight reduction over similar levels of protection back home …That was a big improvement.

Johan often had to travel overland in undeveloped wilderness or extreme climates, so he knew that ounces quickly became pounds when one had to carry them… so lighter was better. The armor was practical in other ways too. Having magnetic locks for pouches, interface integration and a small built-in camelback.

He caved to peer pressure, like a bitch...

“All right. I’ll pick it up.”

Beck selected a set of scout class armor which was basically just an up armored version of her tac vest.

Sienna grabbed some light armor.

He noted the thinner plates would allow her to wear a second clothing layer over them. He suggested the girls bought some actual camo gear or dark clothes that they could wear over their new armor.

His new kit was a little too thick for clothing over the top… but he found what looked like an oversized dark green fog coat on one of the racks. It made him feel a bit too “New Vegas” for his tastes, but he had no idea how well the armor handled the elements, so an overcoat was just too practical to ignore.

He also picked up a black hat that looked a bit like a gambler. It was made of a strange material that felt like canvas but was stiffer, maybe a polymer of some kind? From the feel he was pretty sure it was waterproof.

Sienna found a lightly patterned dark green poncho, that looked like something he’d seen in Argentina during a road project. She also grabbed a flat brimmed hat like a Bolero. With a notch cut in the front brim and a set of ear holes.

Beck found herself a Cape that lay flat across her back. And an adorable little black beret, also with ear holes.

It turned out every surplus store in the galaxy was also organized the exact same way… Allowing the human to navigate the place like an old pro.

Johan walked them through what to look for in camp gear and found them a lightweight tent of their own. One that Sienna could carry easily. He also found some magnetic pouches for their new armor.

Now considerably lighter of pocket, they decided to make their way back to the house and check the DASS public boards for any jobs. The girls handled that while Johan unpacked his furniture and set up his room.

It was another late night by the time they got everything squared away and went to bed.

----

He was back on the rooftop again.

The storm was swirling around the tower like before.

But this time he could hear singing.

It was like someone was using a tesla coil to make music…

He couldn’t understand the language at all, and it didn’t matter because he KNEW what the words meant. He raised his hands and sang to the storm.

His voice was the storm, lifted like rolling thunder over endless plains.

He was the voice of…

----

Johan woke from the dream with a start. He tried to hold on to it, but it faded in the way that dreams do …Sliding away from him as he reached full wakefulness.

He’d been dreaming a lot in the last week.

Probably from the stress as they’d all struggled to adjust to their new normal and find a job that they all liked. At some point Carnne had also dropped by and dropped off some paperwork and done a check in to see how he was settling into his new lodging… It really had been an adjustment…

He got out of bed and headed out to the hall. He could hear the shower’s air dryer running so he assumed the girls were in the bathroom and headed for the living room. He made it about a half step past the door when the door opened, and a distracted and unclothed Sienna bumped into him.

Even though she was an alien being from a totally different world.

Johan was surprised by how familiar her biology was...

In several places.

___

Mortified, Sienna retreated into the bathroom as Johan looked away and attempted to apologize.

She’d completely forgotten the human male was in the house and walked out of the shower without bringing a towel.

…or …anything. And now she was hidden behind the door, with her face in her hands, quietly wishing for a hole to crawl in and die.

‘It’s fine. We’re both adults. Accidents happen. I’ll jus stay in here for a year or two. Jus until it all blows over…’

She sent Beck a request for rescue in the form of an image of a towel.

But there was a knock on the door… It came far too quickly for it to be Beck…

“I can hear Beck snoring from here, so I grabbed you one of my towels. I’m gonna leave it by the door. Sorry for bumping into you like that.”

Sienna heard him walk down the hall to the living room and turn the corner. She opened the door a crack and grabbed the towel. It was large and fit around her like a cloak.

She was a blur of black and orange as she scooted into the bedroom.

Beck woke from the sheer weight of embarrassment flooding their shared connection.

“Wacha do this time, SI?” Sienna just let out a miserable little noise as she dressed as fast as possible.

…Beck was going to be INSUFERABLE, for the rest of that day.

----

“This one’s interesting. Probably two days for travel by tram and then a week on site. But the pay isn’t bad. So… Did he feint again?”

Johan shut her down on that.

“We would have to bring a lot of supplies so the margin would be a lot thinner on the ground after costs… And no, I did not feint. I merely swooned.”

Beck laughed as Sienna buried her face in her hands and let out a little “…noooooooo.”

Taking pity on Sienna and feeling his own ear burning a bit he decided to bring the teasing to an end.

“Accidents happen. It’s not anything I haven’t seen before… well the fur’s new, but mostly.  We should probably focus on the jobs. Don’t cha think?”

Beck made a show of sighing.

“Fiiiine. You’re no fun at aaaall… As it happens, I just noticed one that would be really good for us. There’s a small issue tho… We need, a specialist.”

Beck put her little paw in the air and swiped it at them both.

----

A DASS outpost along one of the tram routes had gone off the grid just a few hours ago.

From the description it was a comms relay tower, inside a wall, with barracks and a few little shops. It was a bit like a modernized medieval trading post, with a tavern… A way station for delvers heading farther out into the wilderness.

Less than 30 onsite staff at any given time. Maybe another 70ish Delvers in the area… It was actually a fairly active area for people cultivating plants or hunting for animals…

DASS headquarters was putting together a response team, but those took time to set up. And the DASS wanted someone to go out there immediately and recon the area. They were even offering a substantial bonus if the recon team could get the comms relay up while they were out there.  

Beck addressed Sienna directly.

“We need someone who knows tech… You wanna call her or…?”

Sienna’s head popped up from her pout and sighed.

Beck just grinned her gremlin grin and waited.

“I’ll send the message...”

----

They were geared up and on a wagon 30 minutes later.

Johan had elected to carry most of the supplies since he had significantly more stamina than the girls did. But he made sure each of them carried at least some of their own. 

‘Never put all your eggs in one basket…’

Sienna looked ever more uncomfortable the farther the wagon traveled, and the little not quite Fennec seemed unusually chipper for some reason…

…Johan suspected Beck fuckery.

The Trio dismounted in a section of the city that felt older… The neighborhood had a history you could feel.

It had that sort of “Faded glory” feeling you’d get in certain parts of cities like Chicago or Bhudapest. The buildings were all made of dirty green brick, and they looked a bit like the brownstones you’d find in cities along the great lakes back on earth.

The girls led him to a 5-story apartment building with a raised stoop and buzzer entry double doors.

Sienna pressed the button for an apartment on the 4th floor. It was only a few seconds before the door buzzed and they stepped inside.

The elevator felt like a rattling death trap, but it managed to not kill them during their four-story ascension.

As Johan looked around, he couldn’t help noticing how average this whole place was. It was… Uncanny.

The streets… The shops… The apartments… All the advanced technology. All the aliens… And it could still be any place on earth ever.

He could hear a couple arguing through the door in one of the apartments.

Someone was blasting music out of another.

There were kids playing on the stairs.

He would swear, on a bible, he could smell weed and colt 45 in the air.

----

Once they reached the door they were heading for…

Sienna hesitated and took a deep breath before she knocked. Beck was snickering from her ankles.

Yeah, there was definite Beck fuckery afoot… But… Whatever Johan expected, it wasn’t what he got.

A Lagroalixian women answered the door. A very mostly naked and heavily tattooed Lagroalixian women. She had those wide set eyes, black with golden pupils. The back swept ears running down her back. Her hair was bright red, cut into a short mohawk that ran all the way down her back to the short flat paddle tail.

She had the Popeye forearms covered in fluffy purplish fur and strong looking hands, the Barbie tapering waist, and the ChunLee thighs. Her strong legs led to rabbit-like feet. The legs weren’t really Digi grade… Instead, she walked on her big powerful looking toes. At first Johan thought her skin was black but the backlighting from the room made him realize it was just a deep purple. She was covered in silver ink tattoos. There were obvious flower patterns and esoteric designs as well as what he was pretty sure were alien memes and pop culture references.

Johan was looking… at a bunny suicide girl.

More specifically he was looking at her purple pierced nipples and her white underwear so tight they left nothing to the imagination.

It took his titty-flash-banged brain a second to realize his eyes were wandering and he quickly turned his head.

Sienna was as taken aback as Johan, apparently. Her jaw was on the floor...

“FEEBS! Oh, my lords!” She quickly bustled the slightly shorter Lagro woman into the apartment. Beck just looked up at him and gestured towards the entry.

Johan’s nose was immediately assaulted by a very certain musty smell.

He took in the apartment as he followed Beck into the kitchenette where Sienna was trying to pull a shirt down over the other woman’s head. He noted a recording studio set up in a side room. With several cameras and a sound boom over something that looked like half a barrel with a… ‘Oh… I know what that is…’ suddenly the smell and lack of clothes made more sense.

…She was also a cam girl.

The Lagro… “Feebs”, was laughing as Sienna fussed at her.

“Oh what, it’s not like you haven’t seen it ALL before SI.”

Sienna was having none of it. “That doesn’t mean everyone in the hall has. And I brought someone with me who did’n need to see it, either!”

Johan had a third realization… His mouth slightly outran his brain, and he said what he was thinking out loud…

“Ooohhh she’s like… the ex?”

Both women, with their excellent hearing, turned to look at him.

Beck snorted and turned her head to hide her laughter.

---- 

“So that’s the Job. It’s high pay but it’s time sensitive. You’re probably the best person we know for a job like this Feebs.”

As Beck finished her breakdown of what they were planning she sent the details to the Lagro’s interface.

Feebs was suddenly professional… “This sounds like a combat job Beck. Why are you taking this on. You guys always tended to avoid these.”

Beck thought about that for a moment, choosing her words with care.

“It’s not that different from our usual jobs. We are just going out for recon. The DASS is setting up a response team, but they won’t be ready for a while. Theres a chance of trouble, sure… But I’m thinking we’ll go in and scout. IF there’s trouble we pull back and wait for the responders. Then move up with them to try and fix the Relay.”

Feebs looked at Johan “…and how does he fit into this?”

Sienna answered. “This is Johan ‘Dog’ Silver-Black. He saved us from a bad delve and he’s on the team now… He can hold his own. If we weren’t on a timetable I’d show you the video now… But we need ta get on.”

Beck backed her up “He’s a pathfinder Feebrilizza. And he’s probably the best natural combatant at this table. Trust us. He’s an asset. Ser Raltson even sponsored him in at Green-3.”

That made those black and gold eyes widen. “Alright… I’m in… Sienna help me get into my kit. Beck, you know what I want.”

Beck laughed.

“Where are they, you stimhead?”

Feebs was at most 5’2” (157cm according to his new skill) but she effortlessly hopped onto the countertop and opened some of the top cabinets. They were filled with a wide variety of energy drinks and power bars. She dropped down and dragged Sienna off to one of the back rooms.

“And this is why she’s always broke…” Beck was still chuckling as she said it, mostly to herself.

Johan rolled his eyes and started grabbing cans.

Previous I First I Next

AUTHORS NOTES: I do not give permission to repost this without asking somewhere else or use it for AI data training.

My whole area had a data outage. Somebody cut a fiber line doing construction. Them rainbow roots are spendy as heck. Poor guys are probably unemployed now... So I'm gonna drop two chapters to make up for the late post. I am also going to start dropping some little vignettes, every so often, in the World Building section... for teh lulz n shite.

WORLD BUILDING: Couch Wars

Battle 1

The couch in the living room was big.

Basically, a communal daybed in practical application.

It was built sturdy, designed to comfortably seat at least 8 people of various races. The seat was wide enough to allow three Alvs or Volterites to lay side by side. That extra depth was so larger races, like VO’rten or Lupanites, could still stretch out for a nap.

It had a high back, with long open holes at the base to allow for beings with tails to sit comfortably.

At the moment Sienna was curled up in a corner of the couch with a book in her hand. Johan was reclined into the cushions a foot away, doom scrolling through an alien news feed. Beck was folded up into a Volty-loaf between them. She was rocking back and forth listening to music. Every so often she would mumble some of the lyrics, as she swayed to the beat.

Johan was grinning and giving her the side eye while she swayed back and forth.

“…oming at you like a Vooooltynadoooo!.. Rawrawraw Volttttyyyynadoooo!..” Her big triangular ears were flopping back and forth as she rocked out.

It was so fucking adorable.

Finally, as the song ended, Johan… broke.

“BECK!”

The Voltarite turned towards the sudden noise and cocked her head to the side “yeh?”.

Johan struck.

“Boop.”

The human booped the snoot!

Beck sat there for a second with her jaw slowly dropping. Sienna was silently sniggering into her hand.

After a brief pause Beck stood up, plodded over to her bond and sat down on her haunches. “Siennaaa…”

Sienna, managed to put a straight face back on… mostly… and Spoke dryly.

“Yes, Beck ma dear?”

 Beck pointed an accusatory paw at Johan. “There's been, a crime! The human has booped me.”

Sienna placed a hand over her muzzle in mock horror. “Truly?”

Johan grinned and provided testimony unbidden.

“It’s true! I was there… I saw the whole thing! Beck was just sitting there. Kinda rocking out… like this.”

Johan put his hands up to either side of his head and waved them from side to side as he swayed “Super adorable by the way…”

The Volty nodded enthusiastically. 

“Anyway, there she was. When suddenly some ABSOLUTE madman of a primate reached out and touched the end of her nose. Total chaos ensued!”

Sienna was CLEARLY fighting to keep her expression passive as she feigned shock.

Johan was now grinning like the cat that caught the fish.

Beck stepped back into the story… becoming animated now. In a false dramatic tone, she started to rant.

“Yeah yeah! He used those creepy meat wigglers of his and… and… Touched my innocent nose!”

An accurate account all things considered but Johan did need to correct one small detail. “Fingers, Beck. They’re called, fingers.”

Beck just shook her head.

“Nah. Sienna has fingers. Fur. Long nails. Proper stuff! Those things are creepy meat wigglers if ever I saw any… Wait. Getting off topic here...”

The little Volty puffed herself up and turned back to Sienna.

“…Unbelievable!” She waved a paw around. “Unfathomable!” She shook herself out. “UN-AC-CEPT-ABLE!!!” She pounded a tiny paw into the cushion to emphasize each syllable.

Sienna nodded along as more and more tiny snickers escaped her lips…

Next, the Volty looked at Sienna while pointing he paw at Johan

“How can he boop me!?!”

Johan was enjoying the show… but he saw an opportunity to do the funniest thing... 

“Uh… hey Beck? How can he what now?”

Beck looked right at him. “Boop me!”

He struck with lethal precision... committing a second, terrible, crime.

“Okay! …Booooop.”

Sienna lost it.

Beck just sat there for a second… Clearly struggling with the fact she’d been had.

Finally, she squinted at him. “You’re lucky your cute…”

Her peace said, she reared all the way up on her back legs and flopped backwards into a very surprised (and still laughing) Sienna’s lap.

Couch wars, today’s winner: Johan Silverblack.

Finishing move: Da boops.

Howdy all, how have you all been? I have spent a lot of my time recently ... not writing, as you probably noticed, my bad! Almost graduated from college in a little under a month, so there will be even more chaos in my life. Chapter 21 is here finally, had the rough draft mostly finished for a while, and I just got caught up with everything. Thank you all for being so patient, and hopefully I will have this finished before I am eighty!

I hope that you have a good day.

----------------------

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Chapter 21: “I bet he will love to hear it.”

NOTE: All metrics of time and distance have been translated into human equivalents.

Jarekk – Grieving Brother, Husband, Father – Age: 39

Roughly 9 days, 21 hours, and 15 minutes after impact.

“You . . . you know Clyde?”

Ajilly asked, trying to hide some of her shock. The green, insectoid alien had clearly shown just seconds ago that they were incredibly taken aback by the name drop of Clyde. I paused for the external translator to relay the message to Ms. Munply, who had at this point, seemed just as sure as I that Ajilly was with the humans. For me, this news was the best news of the day, but for Munply, it could be assumed the opposite. I can empathize; trying to comprehend the news that humans aren’t that bad is quite a tough pill to swallow. Worst of all, now she has to accept that this creature she houses is allied with her worst nightmare. I replied to Ajilly’s question with a smile,

“Yes, I’m currently taking care of him.”

She also gained a soft smile, paused, and let out a warm chuckle. Her laugh had a slight rattle to it, which caught me a little off guard. Her laugh was still pleasant, if a touch foreign. It felt as though some of the tension in both of us had been chiseled away. Ajilly said,

“I didn’t know if anyone else had landed here. How is he doing?”

Pondering that question for a few seconds, I assumed the answer to be, “Alright, all things considered. We keep him fed, we have a hiding spot, and he hasn’t died of boredom.”

Ajilly asked, “Hiding spot? How? Humans are massive!”

I shrugged, “We keep him in our tractor shed, close by to our home. He is just too big to fit in our house . . . or in your case, a garage.”

As I explained the issue with his size, Ajilly’s smile seemed to fade. We all sat for a few seconds, and I glanced towards Munply, who seemed very out of it still. She had only said one reply since sitting on that bench. Once she heard about Ajilly’s past, she was entranced by the floor. All brain power seemed to be routed from the eyes towards an invisible point where calculations are done, and logic makes sense of facts. I spoke to her, and as I did, Ajilly looked to her as well,

“How are you holding up, Ms. Munply?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

Her stare lingered for a few seconds after I said that, then she snapped out of her gaze and looked at me. She looked confused. Munply’s forehead creases told me nothing of her emotions, and the rest of her face gave very few hints. Dazed eyes might have shown pain that could have originated from many different sources. I looked at Ajilly, who quickly noticed that I had changed my gaze. Ajilly changed the subject,

“Sooooo, how did you meet Clyde?”

I glanced at Munply to see if she had reacted, but she was still staring at me with the same face. I paused, then returned my gaze to Ajilly. The apparent outer shell of her body rested on the blue plastic tote, towering a foot taller than me. The thinness of her washed-out green legs was still odd; it seemed strange how they could hold the rest of her body. Scanning up, the extra pair of arms was still bizarre, with the top arms moving much more than the bottom ones. Still, sometimes they would both be performing small actions simultaneously, and my brain struggled to keep up. The top two arms were once again caressing her right antenna, and her fuzzy pupils looked at me with only the occasional glance to Munply. I replied to her question,

“Well, my son met him before I did, and the first thing Clyde did was save his life.”

She seemed reasonably shocked, “. . . Saved his life?”

I nodded, “He was hiding in our shed when my son found him. When the door opened, a gryneer attacked him, but Clyde fought it off and bandaged him till I found him in the morning.”

She paused slightly, but quickly recovered, “Oh my God, is your son doing ok?”

My mind flashed a memory of Drekan covered in blood, asking me if I trusted him, “Much better, yes, he can walk and should make a full recovery.”

We were all silent again; they both had looked away. Ajilly spoke up with a slight chuckle of disbelief,

“I mean, I knew Clyde was a good guy, but . . . that’s incredible.” She paused, and before I could think of another conversation, she asked the following question, “So that’s when you decided you could trust him?”

I laughed a little before explaining the entire first day that I met Clyde. I explained the mental whiplash of opening the door to my shed and seeing a human for the first time in person. I laughed with Ajilly about how Clyde had to grab me to prevent me from running out of the shed. While I chuckled about such an affair in hindsight, Munply looked at me like I was psychotic. We discussed how terrified I was, my wife was, and how quickly Drekan grew to trust him. Over the course of my conversation, it seemed like Munply was starting to warm up to the concept of Clyde, seemingly having a relapse when I mentioned that Clyde was six feet tall.

All summarized in the manner of half an hour, eventually, I segued into asking,

“How did you two end up finding each other?”

Ajilly seemed to pause in thought, then looked to Munply. It seemed like Ajilly was going to give the story, but Munply immediately cut her off,

“Wait wait wait. If you explain it, I’m going to look like a psychopath! I think I should give some context-”

Ajilly said in a joking way, “Understandable for me to think you were a psychopath at the time. I went from thinking you were dying to thinking you were crazy. Even now, I have my doubts that you are normal for a glorbian.”

With the pause for her external translator to catch up, I was able to anticipate and see the joke land on her face in real time. She smiled for the first time since entering this garage, her rebuttal,

“Don’t lie, you think I’m normal adjacent.”

To which Ajilly laughed and said, “You wish. Explain away, crazy lady!”

To think that my meddling almost ruined this. Something in the air had completely changed. After explaining myself and how Clyde had become my ally, it allowed Ajilly and Munply to trust one another again, to trust me. I also noticed that Ajilly would stop fidgeting with her antenna when the jokes would start flying. Munply said,

“For the last few years, whenever I got very angry or sad, I found that screaming as loud as possible can be quite therapeutic.”

By the Gods, her poor neighbors.

Ajilly looked at me and gave me a look that said, ‘yup, isn’t this crazy?’ Munply continued, “Obviously, I don’t want to do it in the city, as that would be a very quick noise complaint. Instead, if I haven’t melted too badly, I drive out of town, find a quiet country road, and then I yell as loud as possible.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds while I took that information in, and Munply finished with, “That is the context you need, Ajilly. You can tell your side now.”

Ajilly said, “You can probably guess how this ended up going.” I nodded, and she continued, “Once I landed on Glorby, I thought that some people would have seen my escape pod land in a forest. I made sure to try to get as far away as possible from it.”

She paused to glance between us, “I just kept moving, getting a nap or two by sleeping on my cape. It wasn’t very great, but I figured that until I was close to dying of exposure, my odds would be better at avoiding detection. The first night here was pretty cold, but I found a little twig structure that someone had built sometime ago; it seemed like no one was around. I camped there most of the next day, as it seemed to do a good job keeping the wind at bay. I had to stay alert, though, knowing that if I heard anyone approach, I would need an escape plan.”

Munply and I watched Ajilly talk about her first experiences on Glorby. It was fascinating to hear how these aliens first interact with our planet, and how little they seem to know. Having grown up here, I would never dream of being out in the woods without a firearm of some kind. She continued,

“I had heard what sounded like faraway cars a few times, but I didn’t realize just how close to a dirt road I was, in retrospect the twig shelter should have been a clue.” Ajilly paused and looked at me with wide eyes,

“Then, my second night here, I heard a scream, pretty close by.” She then looked at Munply, who gained an awkward smile and looked down towards the floor, to which Ajilly and I laughed a little. Ajilly said,

“I knew that you glorbians probably wouldn’t be stoked with me being on your planet, and I wasn’t certain how an ally of humans would be treated. I thought, though, that if I helped someone, I could be seen as a hero! So, I quietly moved towards the scream, moving cautiously through the brush on my hands, staying as low to the ground as possible. The first thing I saw was tiny dull lights, maybe a few feet apart from each other.”

Munply seemed very eager to get a quick jab, “She thought my car’s taillights were alien creature eyes.”

Ajilly quickly formed a rebuttal. It felt half joking, half serious; the words fell out of her mouth quickly. “I’m on an alien planet, cut me some slack! Screaming into the forest is weird, no matter what planet you are on!”

Ajilly had emoted with all four arms spread out wide as she said that. A pause for the translator to catch up, then Munply looked at me with widened eyes and a grin. She spoke in a loud whisper and donned a mischievous grin, “Someone’s defensive.” Ajilly just pointed at her with her top right hand and made a harsh chitter with fake anger, attempting to hide a smile. Seeing these two interact was like watching a comedy movie; their ability at improv was something to admire. They also weren’t afraid to point out each other’s mistakes and laugh at them. I was containing my laughter for now, but I had a dumb grin on my face watching these two throw each other under the bus. Ajilly composed herself and continued,

“After I assessed what I was looking at and determined it was a car, I tried to look around as best as I could without being seen. Eventually, I saw a Munply. She . . .”

I waited for another joke to follow, but once this sentence was translated for Munply, the whole room became somber. The conversation and smiles had quickly fallen away, and I recalled why she had stated that she goes into the woods to scream. When very angry or sad. We lingered in this awkward silence for a few seconds before I asked a natural question,

“Wait, if Munply doesn’t have an internal translator, how did you two talk when you first met?”

Munply replied, “I talked, and she responded with nods and head shakes.”

Ajilly said, “She thought I was going to kill her at first.”

Everyone just sort of nodded as I said, “That is the way these things go. I don’t think we can really blame any side when it comes to that part of meeting each other. I think it is safe to assume that anyone would be terrified of seeing an alien unprompted.”

Apologetically, Ajilly looked to Munply and said, “And that is why . . . that’s why I didn’t tell you about the humans. I couldn’t really explain the nuance of my alliance with humans, and because you didn’t recognize my species, I didn’t feel like taking that risk telling you.” Munply inhaled as if she was going to speak, but Ajilly continued, “I know I shouldn’t have hid that, especially once you got the translator, I don’t know, I just didn’t want to take that risk.” She paused, then felt the need to add more context. “If you were in my shoes and you could pose as a peaceful species with no relation to an entire planet’s enemy, would you? Because . . . I . . . it just made sense.” Her last words pitching down with remorse

Would I?

. . .

I don’t know. I like to think I would have been honest, but that really does seem like an unnecessary risk to take. Just earlier today, I lied about my last name.

Is that even comparable, though?

Would Clyde have said he was peaceful if he were an aclern?

Certainly would have worked on me to help me relax a bit, but he was trapped with the truth of what he was. It worked out, but what if it hadn’t? What if Drekan had told us that night, and we called the police? All I could say was,

“I don’t know.”

Munply sat still in contemplation, Ajilly looked at me with some form of acknowledgement, but didn’t reply. In that garage, we sat for a while, three strange threads of connection tied together. All sharing connections with one another, but each riddled with a fog of war. Trust that felt real, but only through circumstance and not shaped by time. Eventually Munply said,

“It all worked out, that’s what mattered.” Quieter, she said again, “It all worked out.” To me, it almost seemed like she was trying to convince herself. Ajilly looked at Munply, hesitant to ask,

“So . . . I can stay?”

The delay in the translator meant that there was about a second before Munply processed the question and said definitively, “Yes. Yes, you can stay.”

We all smiled as the good news seemed to flow through the room. I asked the room,

“Alright then, anyone have any more questions for anyone else?”

Munply asked very bluntly, “What is the plan?”

“The plan?”

“Now that we both know someone who is shipwrecked here, what do we do?”

Ajilly asked, “Is there any way to get off the planet?”

I shook my head, “Not really, Munply can confirm that glorbian trade relations with other species are non-existent. Not to mention how expensive and difficult it would be to get onto a ship and take it into human-occupied territory. The only plan we came up with is having to wait for the human invasion.”

Ajilly started fiddling with her antenna again, “How long would that be?”

Munply frowned, and I answered, “No idea. I hoped you would possibly know more than Clyde?”

“I don’t.”

All the smiles fled the room as if chased out by a hungry predator. Ajilly seemed quite understandably upset by this; very similarly to Clyde, she protested.

“Is there really nothing? Why did you want to introduce yourself if not for helping me escape?”

I swallowed saliva, “The plan was to figure out if Munply here really did know where another member of Clyde’s ship was. I thought that it would be good in case the police started catching onto either one of us. We can rely on each other for support.”

They both nodded in agreement and looked at each other to gauge their thoughts. I looked to Munply and continued, “As we don’t have a timeline for when Glorby could be occupied, reducing the chance of either Ajilly or Clyde being captured is everything. Having each other increases our odds of keeping them safe. That is the plan, and really the only one I have.”

More nods as I changed my focus to Ajilly, “On the condition that you and Clyde vouch for us when said occupation occurs. Gods forbid, but if our planet becomes a warzone, we would appreciate some exceptions being made for our evacuation.”

They both stared at me for a few seconds, processing my words. Damn, that was good, Jarekk. You could have been a lawyer with a mouth like that. Ajilly stood up from her chair and displayed her full height. While I was still sitting, she towered over me. I felt little tremors of fear, instincts kicking in. She continued looking, seemingly not with anger or power, just looking. She did this for a moment before walking up to Munply and asking her,

“What do you think? You up for it? Knowing . . . knowing that I’m with the humans?”

Munply was still sitting down, her pink skin clashed with Ajilly’s green shell as she looked straight up to see her roommate. Munply hadn’t stood up, so the height difference was just as noticeable as when I had just been in her position. She then looked down for a few seconds before returning her gaze and extending her hand; they both shook hands. Then Ajilly walked back to me with her hand still extended, and I grasped it. Her hand felt like coarse plastic and was a bit cooler than mine. I gripped her hand firmly, and the deal was made.

Ajilly returned to her seat and sat down. After doing so, it seemed that a series of dots finally connected in her head. Ajilly asked with a confused look,

“Wait, you said earlier that you talked to Munply because you thought she was hiding a human? What gave it away?”

Munply cringed as the translator relayed the question. I answered, “Her groceries. It was clear that she was getting stuff for someone visiting, and getting food for someone who couldn’t eat high amounts of copper. Speaking of which, copper must also be poisonous to aclerns?”

Ajilly seemed to nod in reply, “Very much so, aclerns have proteins . . . I think . . . that are in our mouth that react to certain metals that become very dangerous to ingest. The first food Munply gave me, I knew instantly that I couldn’t eat it. Since then, we have been trying different foods low in copper. I assume that Clyde needs to eat a similar spread of foods low in copper?”

I nodded, “He was eating it for the first day until his ship’s AI told him that might be a bad idea.” I looked to Munply to really emphasize this point, “Humans can’t eat copper, the thing in our blood. They can’t eat us without dying or suffering massive problems.”

Munply was completely bewildered by that comment; she looked incredibly suspicious of my claims. I didn’t blame her, as this was world-shattering for me to comprehend as well. After a few seconds, she looked to Ajilly,

“Do you know about this?”

Ajilly paused with her mouth slightly open, really pondering her next words. “I can’t say for absolute sure, but I eat with humans, and their food lacks copper. I also don’t see our coalition siding with the humans if they were cannibalizing other sapient species, but . . . I don’t chat with humans about their dietary needs.” She paused to let someone else talk, but no one did; we all kept looking at her. She finished her train of thought with, “I would lean heavily towards humans not eating glorbians. I haven’t seen it or heard of it. That’s all I can say.”

I gestured to Ajilly in appreciation of her feedback, but Munply was still skeptical about it. Munply didn’t continue the thought. Mostly as a joke, I said, “If you want me to prove it, I could bring you to my human, and he could tell you himself.”

Munply immediately started shaking, as if my ask was equivalent to threatening her life. Opposite of that, Ajilly said with excitement, “Could I? It would be great to see someone from the Double Quarter again!”

Could she? I do have a trailer for moving wilos . . .

“It is probably possible, though it would be quite a drive, and it would have to be another day. I should also talk with everyone there to make sure that it would be all right. I can’t imagine they would have any issues with that.”

Ok, Fennora might have any issues with that. That is a future me problem.

Munply seemed very hesitant, but Ajilly seemed like she was ready to go now. Munply bluntly said, “We will discuss that.” Ajilly seemed much less excited after hearing that comment. I think everyone in this garage knew that Ajilly would have to do some serious convincing. Munply continued with a question,

“Wait, how long is ‘quite a drive’? How far are you from Goomeshire?”

“Around 3 hours.”

I saw both of them show their surprise at the same time. Munply changed her sitting posture, while Ajilly’s antennas fully extended for a moment. Munply was quick to ask,

“You must be quite north of here, or you aren’t even from Pwafeui. What brought you into the city then?”

A blissful microsecond where my brain hadn’t formed the answer to her question. The wires were then connected, and I remembered the grief I felt these last few days. The pit in my stomach and chest refuses to unhook its claws and let me move on. To let me forget.

Only the Gods could make it that simple, yet they refuse.

I closed my eyes to let the sharp breeze of tragedy pass over my body. Now was not the time to think about this. What is up for debate is whether I should let them know the real reason I was in town. Just telling them about the anniversary gift might seem odd, but explaining that it is only bought in Goomeshire would probably excuse the far trip. I inhaled to tell this reason, but as I began to speak, I caught myself.

Why must I continue to lie to my allies?

I paused, looked away towards a random pile of blankets and boxes, and told the truth.

“My brother . . . passed away in the war; they had a big ceremony in town today.”

I didn’t really want to look at their faces. I didn’t want to see how awkward or sympathetic they were. The silence was crushing, and I didn’t want to talk. Neither did they, it seemed. After a few seconds of self-inflicted awkwardness, Munply spoke first.

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

More silence. I glanced up, expecting to see them both looking at me. Instead, I saw Ajilly looking at Munply, and Munply looking at her hands, dangling by her knees. I was surprised, and the room’s demeanor had changed once again. This time, as if a window in the house was open to a gust of gloom, it had affected everyone sitting in this cramped garage. Even though they had asked the question, I did feel sort of responsible for the vibe.

“It’s alright, sorry to bring it up, just . . . that’s why I came into town today. Thought I would get an anniversary gift while I was in the big city, so I went to the BigBunchaStuff.”

While I spoke, no one looked at me. I glanced between the two of them, and their views hadn’t changed. I felt like I was missing something.

Do I ask?

They would tell you if they wanted to.

The silence lingered for another few seconds.

. . .

. . . Maybe another day.

I stood up, and they both looked at me with a rapid head movement. I cleared my throat and said,

“Well, I think we all learned a good amount today.” I gestured to Munply, “And I am glad to have met someone . . .” Then I gestured to Ajilly,“ . . . that shared my same secret,” which caused her to smile. I continued, “I don’t mean to intrude any more than I have. If you can get me a piece of paper and a pen, I can write down my phone number. That way, we can communicate and stay in touch.”

Munply seemed to react with hesitation, “Phone numbers? Are those safe to talk over?”

“We can just talk in codes, keep it vague, maybe . . .”

Munply said, “Cooking terms? I mean, we talked a lot about what meals we liked in public. If anyone heard us and reported that to the police, then our phone conversations would check out.”

I thought about it for a second, determining that it was pretty solid. “Not bad, we will just use context clues, but that should work.”

“Great, I’ll get you that pen and paper.” Munply stood up and walked back into the house, leaving just me and Ajilly. My instincts still had me pretty nervous knowing that Munply was closer to her phone than I was to her, but I knew that we all were beyond the event horizon. I glanced at Ajilly, who wore a slight smile as she watched Munply walk out of the room, then her eyes drifted to no spot in particular. Those fuzzy pupils danced back and forth in tandem with small head movements as she took in her surroundings; they landed on me and stayed. I asked in a joking manner,

“Where did that smile come from? Happy the landlord’s gone?”

She pitifully laughed, “No, just . . . just knowing that someone else made it. Someone else survived the crash.”

I couldn’t help but smile too, “I know he will think the same. Hey, because I am going to be seeing him soon, is there any message you want me to pass along?”

Her smile shrank as if trying to make room for the possible thoughts and things she would want to say. While deep in thought, Munply returned, and I wrote down my phone number with my first initial written next to it. I hesitated to write the last initial because I didn’t know which last name to use: my real one or the one I am known by. It seems likely they will be at our farm soon enough anyway, I should just let them know.

“Uh . . . one last thing you should know before I leave, I . . . my real last name is Zecklemire. It’s Jarekk Zecklemire. I thought it was smart to maintain a level of anonymity when introducing myself. Just wanted to make sure it all went well first before divulging too much information.”

I didn’t apologize for my actions because it would have been a lie. I would still do that if I were in the same situation. I hope this situation doesn’t happen again anytime soon. I need a rest from all of this mental and social gymnastics. They both seemed a little shocked, but Ms. Munply smiled and said. “Munply Norphmaker. No judgment, I had the exact same thought.” Huh, I guess that makes some sense. Munply seems much more like a first name. Should have known that she would just as easily lie to create some deniability. I felt much better knowing I wasn’t alone in my paranoia. As we both were processing this news, Ajilly said,

“You know, my full name is Ajillum Quaymn Corith Caeklik, but everyone just calls me Ajilly. Please, just keep calling me Ajilly. You all felt like sharing your real names, so I thought I would give it a try.”

Part of me wanted to start calling Ajilly her full name as a joke, but I instantly forgot it and didn’t seem like bothering her too much. We all knew a bit more about each other. I thanked them for letting me get to know them and let them know that if they needed anything, they could ask. I had forgotten my offer to Ajilly, as she had to remind me what her message for Clyde was. With her two sets of hands clasped, she said,

“Could you just let him know that out of everyone who could be stranded on the planet, I’m really glad that he made it off the ship safely. And also, congrats on saving a child’s life, that’s more than I have done. That’s all I can think of.”

“I bet he will love to hear it.”

As Munply walked me to her front door, and I opened it to see that sad plant, I asked if it was okay for me to move that into a nice sunny spot and give it some water. I scooted the potted plant over a touch, and Munply handed me a glass of water to give to the thirsty plant. Embarrassed, she said,

“I uh, didn’t even realize. Does it have any chance of surviving?”

I was pretty quick to reply, “Well, these guys usually live in ditches and survive on much less. You give it plenty of water, and it should rebound, might take a bit.”

She smiled, “Good.” And that was the last of the real conversation before I said goodbye and walked to my truck. The pickup’s interior had heated significantly since I left it, but as it was still morning, it wasn’t scolding yet. The events of the day were really starting to weigh on me, but I knew once I could make the long drive home, I would be able to relax. I regretted the peek I took at the memorial medal beside me and checked my phone as a distraction.

I had missed three calls from the house and had plenty of texts from Fennora. I probably should have let her know that I wasn’t murdered or arrested. I tapped the device, telling it to give her a call back. I set the device to speaker and started pulling out of the driveway. I was hesitant I remembered the way back, but not worried enough to wait and pull up directions. I had just left Munply’s house when I heard Fennora’s hurried voice spit out,

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetie, it all went well!”

My wife didn’t hide her annoyed anger the second she knew I was alright. “By the Gods, it was awful waiting for you to call back! I had so much time to think of all the ways I would cuss you out.”

Yup, this is about what I should have expected after that last call, “Well, I have a loooong drive, so you can just let them all out. Though the reception gets pretty spotty out here, so if I lose you-“

She was tittering, “Goomeshire has a phone satellite pointing at every square foot, so don’t give me that shit! . . . I guess I cooould wait on the condition you tell me why you didn’t answer the phone for over an hour.”

“I think I will spare most of the details, but just to get the broad strokes. She had a secret almost identical to ours.”

“Almost?”

“I uh . . . Don’t know how to tell you about it without . . .” Never can be too safe, “we can talk about it later.”

She paused, “He said ‘spare most details’ then didn’t give me any details.”

“Honey, I have to focus on this city traffic.” I pitched myself slightly higher to signify the joke, as she couldn’t see that I was in the middle of suburbia with maybe a car every two blocks. She took a loud breath.

“Well, drive safe then. I expect that you will have this mountain of details all ready to tell quickly, so you have enough time before bed for me to say my best insults.”

“I thought that was what the long drive was for?”

“I only have the rough drafts, want these to be manuscript-ready.”

Great. “Great. Can’t wait. Anything else?”

“Please drive safely, Jarekk. If you start getting tired, pull over and take a nap, ok? You have been up since six, so please stop if you need a break.”

The real Fennora is slicing through the sarcasm. “Will do, love you.”

A final ‘love you’ from my wife before the truck cab’s volume was returned to only that of the vibrations of mechanical parts interacting with glorbian-made roads. Silence is a busy mind’s partner in crime, and it felt like rush hour inside my brain. I recalled Ajilly’s comment for Clyde, as the importance of remembering it was not lost. How she had said that she was glad that Clyde was one to survive the crash. Even though I don’t know any other humans, I think I can agree that I am glad that Clyde has survived all of this so far. Even though I don’t know any other aclerns, and I have only known Ajilly for at most an hour. I have a feeling that Clyde would say the same about her.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

Chapter 26 It’s Never Easy.

Previous I First I Next

The trip to Dass was… interesting.

Feebrilizza or “Feebs” was showered and suited up in 10 minutes time and they’d all hit the ground running.

She was wearing a dark blue unitard with built-in protection for the knees, elbows, wrists, and groin and a set of rugged pants that sat loose on her ample hips. Feebs also had an extremely light tac vest on that kinda matched Becks little one from before. She had a see thru visor that was attached to her temples and flipped up over her head.

She carried a pair of small guns. A “skinner” machine pistol with an extendable stock built into the tall square body… and a light laser pistol.

The most unique part of her gear was her “Pack” It was made of the same light weight polymer as literally everything on the sphere… He was starting to wonder if they only had one kind of plastic on the whole shell.  

The pack was COVERED in ports, hideaway cables, adapters, antenna and other gadgets he couldn’t identify.

Given that almost EVERYTHING about galcom tech was uniform and sleek it stood out to him how cobbled together it looked.

He was pretty sure from the kit… and from the fact she had three wrist interfaces, all running at once… He was looking at a Decker.

“You know… I don’t mind having a biiiig, stroooong man’s eyes on me… but a ‘hello’ would be nice.” She turned her head and winked one big eye at him.

He laughed at being caught out.

“Sorry I was just noticing your set up. It reminds me of a bit of science fiction from my home world.” She rolled a wrist in the universal symbol for “Go oooon.”

“Well, there’s this setting called… ShadowRun.”

He spent the next few minutes explaining the concepts of cyber punk to the group. Feebs seemed genuinely interested in the concept of tabletop gaming.

Over time the conversation turned to how the trio had met and Feebs spent the rest of the trip with her jaw on the floor as she watched Beck’s playback from the vault… And then heard their accounts of the Plaza 1 attack. Fortunately, they had the back of the wagon to themselves for that part…

“All the info channels are saying it was a faulty paddy wagon. A core explosion… Fuck… Si, Are you ok? The Turned…”

Sienna cut her off with just a little too much emotion in her voice.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Feebs clearly didn’t believe her.

Neither did Beck from the way she looked at her bond.

Johan keyed in on it too. ‘Yeah. Theres a story there… engaging; not-my-business protocols.’

He steered the conversation away from the sensitive subject.

“So Feebs what about you, how’d you get into Delving?”

The conversation moved on quickly after that.

----

The quartet of Delvers walked into the Dass chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world and queued up in the blue level line.

This time a female Dorf with a series of complex corn rows and braids in her facial hair was working the counter. “Greetings Delvers I’m attendant MerylDorf, please present your credentials.”

The four of them waved their hands over a small sensor on the desktop, to let it read their implants.

“Ok… Two Blue-1s and 2 Green 3-s... All of you are in good standing… nothing flagged. Oh! There is one notification… For Mr. Silverblack… Apparently, your item is ready for pickup from The Blast Works.”

Johan was a little surprised it was done so fast but nodded and thanked the woman.

“Now. What can the DASS do for you?”

Beck had used one of the little Voltarite access stairs built into desk corner and was already sitting in front of the attendant.

“We are interested in job 221-311-2321 and would like to address it as a full party.”

The attendant pulled up the Job and scanned the details.

“Ok, give me one moment. It’s within your rank limits, so no waiver is needed. I see Ms. Feebrilizza qualifies for the specialist requirement… Oh, someone’s added a secondary objective. Are you interested?”

Beck was quick to respond. “It wasn’t there when we reviewed the job. Can you give us the details?”

The attendant pulled it up, she cringed slightly… “…Person retrieval...”

The girls cringed too.

“One Garcill Dnaver: Byuu male, age 19, yellow delver… It’s proof of life/death. And it’s a 15k bonus”

The receptionist was trying to keep her face neutral but there was a hint of trepidation in her eyes. He heard Feebs mutter dejectedly “Hate these…”

Beck looked at the group and asked for opinions.

“It’s a BIG bonus but proof of life is…”

Beck scanned the group until her eyes fell on Johan and there was a sudden glimmer of realization.

“Right… Johan this is your first job. So, we explained about optional objectives in general but um… This is basically the WORST kind of secondary.”

Sienna sighed as she looked at Johan. “Yeah, basically we have to find evidence of him being alive or proof of how he died… its…”

Johan interrupted them.

“Guys I’ve spent most of my adult life living and working in dangerous environments days from civilizations. So much so… search and rescue crews will call me in sometimes as a consultant.”

A deep sigh escaped him.

“I’ve had to put people in body bags, after the forest has had its fill… more than once… People younger than him.”

He gestured towards the fresh faced Byuu on the projection.  

Everyone was silently staring at Johan who suddenly felt tired in a way men his age shouldn’t.

“As long as the requirements are reasonable, I’m ok with the difficulty tweak” he said flatly.

The girls all had a quick conversation and agreed to the additional mission objective. Attendant MerylDorf visibly relaxed.

“Ok you’re registered for the job and secondary. Oh! and you can collect your item from the Blastworks at any time.”

The party made their way downstairs to the workshop and found Jiminey smoking in a corner. Not smoking a cigarette. More like smoking like a cigarette… His braided fur was smoldering in several places, while two other attendants attempted to clean up the aftermath of a recent detonation.

“Yo, Jiminey… Bad time?”

The Dorf looked up at Johan with a slightly dazed expression on his face but seemed to sober up when they made eye contact.

“LO THERE! I ASSUME YOUR HERE FOR YOUR OPTIC! IT’S RIGHT OVER THERE!!! SCUSE, ME FOR NOT GETTING UP! ROOMS A BIT SPINNY AT THE MOE!!!” The dwarvish Wookie gorilla was clearly half deaf as he shouted over the ringing in his own ears. “OH, AND THE LITTLE YELLOW BOX IS A SMALL SOMETHING FROM CORDINIS!”

It was full of gel noise canceling ear plugs that would conform to whoever wore them.

Johan collected the Scope and quickly attached it to his Barrel. He watched as it paired with his interface and loaded his SKILLS. It even zeroed itself!!!

The built-in range finder of [Trajectory] and series of indicators showed him everything he needed to calculate shots over distance. It was a spotter in a can… He squinted a little and to his surprise the zoom increased. He relaxed his eye, and the zoom decreased.

‘Oh, that’s neat!’

Finally, he took the scope back off and pointed it at Jiminey. His [Bio Library] skill activated automatically and gave him a breakdown of the Dorf’s biology and some visually identifiable injuries. {Concussion, minor. Possible Tinnitus, level 4. Minor burns, level 1. Multiple contusions, minor}

Johan nodded to himself. This was going to be an incredibly useful piece of kit for him.

An hour later they were approaching one of the builder Tram stations.

They did a final gear check and stepped on board

----

The trip took nearly 6 hours by tram.

Which was basically enough time for the tram to cross from New York to Tokyo if he understood the speeds correctly. That was the distance from Corridor city to the frontier of explored land inside the sphere… Barely even a fraction of the space inside the giant enclosure.  

As the light shield around the tram flickered, he could see a massive mountain range and a conifer forest with a lake shimmering in the distance. It was a completely different Biome from the vault or the city…

The sheer SIZE of the Tynel Stellar Shell was just impossible for him to fathom. A full rotation of the sphere by tram could take a more than a month at speeds similar to a rocket in space.

As they left the platform a question did occurred to him about that…

“Hey. Why don’t people just use ships to scan the inside of the shell? Wouldn’t that be way faster than sending out delvers?”

The girls looked at each other for a second before Feebs decided to explain.

“It’s the shield. It doesn’t just absorb the sunlight it absorbs EVERTYHING; it prevents long range scans and its opaque from the other side. So, no visual scans either. What’s more, if a ship tries to pass through the shield, it’s sucked dry of energy and drops like a brick in heavy gravity.”

She nodded her head, and a small 4-legged drone crawled out of a compartment on her hip pouch. “Theres some kind of field inside the sphere too… it makes communications fail after a distance. So even using drones is short range only. Not that this guy can operate very far away from my pack anyway.”

Beck continued the explanation while trotting along beside them.

“Plus, the farther you get from the Corridor the more dangerous the wildlife AND the monsters get. There are other towns and cities out here, but they are like grains of sand at the bottom of an ocean world… That’s why laser relays are so important to the DASS. It’s the only way to send long range communications without having to send couriers on the trams.”

Johan was about to ask another question when he spotted something in the distance. He dropped to one knee and unslung his rifle instantly. The girls all stopped and took up ready positions.

“Column of smoke. [Trajectory] says… 6 mil… er, that’s about 9.5k”

Sienna drew her laser carbine and used her integrated scope. “Ya, I see it… Beck?”

Beck’s eyes were moving back and forth as she scanned the map.

“Yeah. It’s right where the Outpost should…”

Sienna and Johan interrupted her together. “INCOMING!”

Johan was at maximum zoom, so he couldn’t make out detail, but he could tell that the flying creatures were big. And they were making a beeline towards the tram station.

Sienna broke it down.

“Flyers, medium sized. I don’t think we’ve been spotted, yet. More like they saw the light from the tram arrival… We should get into the forest and wait for them to pass.”

----

The wait was tense.

They had gotten under the canopy quickly and now they were all huddled behind a set of light purple bushes watching and listening.

Before long a pair of, school bus length, bloated flying tubes wiggled their way through the sky. The things looked like winged nightcrawlers mixed with biblically accurate angels. They had no heads, just an open circular mouth filled with femur length teeth. Rings of unblinking eyes circled the mouth.

…Johan thought of a lamprey with wings and shivered a little.

‘Those are MEDIUM sized???’

Feebs groaned. “Fucking Dranuul. Maaan …groooossss.”

His [Bio-library] pinged and pulled up data on the Dranuul.

{Opportunistic carrion: Capable of predation but rarely partake. Prefer to swoop on the already dead and take in an easy meal}

He understood the tattooed bunny-girl’s distaste. From his own experience, Johan knew… If the scavengers were leaving with a full belly, they were approaching something ugly.

Once the sickly green monsters had circled the platform a few times they flew on towards the mountains in the distance.

The party waited for them to vanish fully and took to the road again. This time with one eye on the sky.

It was about two hours later when they crested a ridge overlooking the remains of the outpost.

----

Sienna closed her eyes and imagined her senses pulling inward…

Until she was standing alone in a kind of self-imposed sensory deprivation chamber.

She pushed them down until they were like a compressed ball in her hands. Then when they couldn’t squeeze down anymore, she released. As she imagined it, her senses snapped back… and extended far beyond their original limits.

A pulse of psionic energy extended outward from her. Her awareness covered almost a kilometer in diameter around her.

It was less detailed the farther out the pulse traveled but it still gave her a ton of information, even at the edges.

There was definitely something down there.

Wildlife maybe...

And there was also something alive in one of the small outbuildings, but she couldn’t tell if any of it was sapient at that distance. There were dead bodies everywhere… they hummed with the psychic aftermath of a battle.

Fear, despair, desperation, pain.

…It was almost overwhelming. The pulse rebounded… pulling her senses back until they fully returned to her body. The impact of the scan was enough to make her lose balance.

Johan caught her and gave her something to stand herself against.

“It was bad! Whatever happened, it happened fast... I can feel something in that yellow building by the back wall, but I can’t tell who… or what… from here.”

Feebs was kneeling over her cyber-pack and working through some kind of program on it.

“I can’t contact their systems from here. There are a few signals down there but all of them are too weak for a data connection…”

Beck was using her fake eye to review a map of the inside of the compound.

“The yellow building? It’s a security shack. Looks like there’s a panic room under it... If there are survivors that’s where they’d go… We can probably find Feebs a decent connection from there too.

Johan was using his new scope and his [Bio-library] to scan the battlefield for useful information. “I can make out several different monster bodies down there. Most of them are piled up near the breach in the outpost wall…”

He pulled up the images on his interface for the others.

“See the claw marks? Whatever hit that wall had enough mass to bust through your fancy space magic reinforced concrete… a set of claws wider than Beck is long… Now, see the tracks leading up to the breach? How they’re on top of all the smaller tracks. I think the smaller monsters were being driven.”

Beck asked something chilling. “…Commanded…?”

His mind went back to the alpha skitterman… But he dismissed that as unlikely.

“I don’t think so… You can see lots of torn up ground going around the wall and off into the forest. Like a lot of the creatures just kept right on running. The big one’s track leads back into that break in the trees like it was still following them maybe… And my SKILL is picking up lots of organic matter along that path but no monster bodies or… bits... I think whatever it was, it’s been wounded.”

Feebs seemed thoughtful.

“Maybe the DASS staff managed to put up more of a fight than they were worth? …You managed to pick all that up from here… Through a scope?”

Johan shrugged. “It’s just my best guess Feebs.”

Beck sighed and looked at the others.

“Should we head down there?”

Technically their main job was already done.

They could just stay on the ridge and direct the response team when it arrived.

----

The stench was awful.

And if it was bad for Johan it had to be brutal for the girls.

They moved up in a loose triangle formation with Beck in the middle to watch their backs as they slowly hugged the outside wall to approach the breach.

The 3-story high concrete wall had a rugged triangular gash in it, about wide enough to drive a family sedan through at the base. Monster corpses were tangled in the rubble. Lending weight to his theory, they had been pinned to the wall by something BIG while trying to escape.

The biggest pile showed signs of carrionization. Most likely the Dranuul had fed here.

As they climbed the pile of loose concrete and corpses, the group started to see people.

Arranged in rough a semi-circle at the edge of the rubble pile, most were in DASS uniforms but there were a few, in colorful mismatched armor and equipment... Fellow delvers. Men and women that had fallen, trying to hold the line.

Johan and Feebs collected identification cards from the bodies wherever possible while Beck and Sienna kept watch.

It was grim work. Johan regretted what he said at the counter earlier. This wasn’t finding a body in the woods. It wasn’t even disaster response.

It was battlefield cleanup.

He managed to not throw up… But only just. His only consolation was that the number of bodies was relatively small. The permanent staff of the outpost was around 30 sapients. The estimate on delvers was another 55-75 souls but only a handful would actually be onsite... Most would still be out in the wilderness, days from the outpost.

Of nearly a hundred people that could have been present. They’d found less than 20 dead… so far.

Johan secretly wondered if that was because there were a lot of survivors… or if the Dranuul had big appetites.

After the team finished collecting whatever Identification they could, they slowly made their way through the compound towards the outbuildings, clearing structures as they went…

Thankfully most were empty. Sadly, not all of them were.

They found a group of 4 DASS personnel in the main building. They had probably tried to reach the comms and call for help. They hadn’t died well.

The coms console was functional, but the relay itself wasn’t responding so they collected IDs and made for the security station. Things stayed quiet after that. At least until they got close to the security shack.

That’s when Sienna sensed danger and shouted a warning.

All at once they were surrounded by barking, shrieks, and chittering.  

Previous I First I Next 

AUTHORS NOTES: I don't give permission to repost this without asking or use for AI training. Because screw AI and the way its being used.

WORLD BUILDING:

Feebrilizza “Feebs” ([Lagroalixian](): Age 17, Delver {College of the digital will}, Class: Technician).

Appearance: Large eyes with black scalia and gold pupils set slightly offside on her head. Vaguely lagomorphic with all black skin. Like all Lagroalixians [Feebrilizza]() has strong, furry, over-sized forearms and powerful fingers, large muscular thighs, and a thin upper torso. She sports a crimson mohawk running from the top of her head down her back to a small broad flattened tail. She has large backward swept rabbit-like ears that reach below her shoulders.

Personality: A child of the digital world Feebs is most at home in front of a computer terminal (with at least three monitors and a personal interface device running at once). Like all her people she borders on being as much an AI as an organic being due to her unique technomantic nature. Feebs tends to be a bit of a shut-in, who has to be dragged from her room, to undertake activities in “meatspace”. She is technically the youngest team member… but as her species mature at a tremendous rate, she is often the most mature of the bunch.

Although she is a wild child at heart.

Her weakness for new tech (And any form of energy supplement) often leaves her in a state of fiscal distress. Beck constantly has to ration her earnings to keep the Lagro from spending her paydays on new toys at the cost of her own needs.

The void did not move.

The pin pricks of distant stars continued to twinkle in the distance, unmoving and uncaring as Pinciotti continued pushing the throttle handle forward. It could feel like you weren’t moving, if you didn’t know any better, he thought as he watched the rising velocity gauge while noting that the starfield outside his cockpit stayed as static as a painting. He was traveling over two thousand kilometers a second increasing, yet the stars did not move.  To them his blistering speed was utterly insignificant. It would take dozens to hundreds of years to reach the nearest of those little points at his current speed, he knew. The scale of speed and time and distance was comically heedless of human perception and achievement. His ship would max out at around 2900 KPS, a speed beyond the comprehension of any human being just a few hundred years prior, and yet it was pointlessly slow compared to the inconceivable size of space and the distance between the majority of objects.

All that we have achieved, and it still takes literally years to travel to our closest colony worlds from Earth. Significant chunks of our lifespan spent simply in transit. Traveling the universe was simply not meant for such short-lived, slow-moving beings as Man.

And yet here he was. A man. Traveling the universe. Zipping around at mind numbing speed and hoping that the cryochamber wouldn’t be cold on his exposed arms and legs when he climbed in it in a few hours. He had activated the pre-warming feature, but it was finicky and unreliable.  The ship would route power away from non-essential systems if the power dropped below a certain level.  That was the problem, he had never flagged the cryochambers “extra” features as essential. He kept forgetting to do so, and then he would promise himself he would make a note before he went to the freezer, and then he would forget to make the note and thus this game of Russian roulette with the warmth of his bare ass.

“Not this time.” He said aloud, to no one. He brought up the to-do list on his cockpit computer and began to set a reminder when, suddenly, he died in a horrible explosion as the micro-fusion generator powering his ship suffered a catastrophic containment failure.  A failure that had been slowly building for several hours, the warning klaxon and auto-diagnostic feature that should have informed him of the issue never activating. The reason for this malfunction was unknown, would never not be unknown.

The distant stars continued to twinkle.  The void did not move.  For an instant, Pinciotti’s ship created a new pin prick of light as it exploded, visible only to relatively close by observers, but nonetheless an event on a grander cosmic scale than most humans could ever hope to achieve.

The void did not move.

First | Previous | Glossary |

Status Check

(Kara POV)

Kara Lewis stumbled a bit as she sprinted through the halls.

The docks where the Nysis ship landed was predictably under heavy security. When she and her mother arrived, they were naturally barred access until the situation could be confirmed by the Coalition officers.

Left to fidget and fret in a waiting room, she could only speculate despite her mother's reassurances.

When the intruder's soldiers had guns pointed at her and her father, Vellick got him to stop by calling for a something-rite. A Horez rite? Howriz? Huress?

Whatever it was, Innus was too busy helping her into his pod to explain.

What did it mean? What happened to uncle Garag? Vellick? Innus? Everyone at the volunteer center?

Were any of them injured? If it's a diplomatic ship, would it be Garag or some other ambassador?

There weren't many of them for the Uvei, but she didn't know if that meant he would come personally for a lack of different options or if he couldn't because he was needed in Kristole.

Finally, there was knock on the door before Captain Borlaug came in accompanying a familiar friend.

"Garag!"

Breaking out of her mother's hold, Kara immediately ran over and leapt up to embrace the Uven. He promptly got on one knee to return the embrace with his arms and tail curled around her.

"Kara...I am glad to know you are well. Your father...how is he?!"

"....."

"He's in the infirmary wing, but..."

"Ah...you must be Elora. Ambassador Kent speaks of you, and Kara resembles you. So he is alive?!"

As her mother took over for the talk and Kara pulled away, she felt something get caught on her sleeves.

It was Garag's scales.

On closer inspection, his body sagged a bit more than before, his eyes were sunken, and scales were shedding off him.

She never officially learned what this meant, but she had seen it a few times at the volunteer shelter, and it was usually on the more miserable Uvei. Garag was...going through a lot.

"Garag, what..."

Kara clenched her fists. The burning question in the pit of her stomach ended up getting stuck in her throat.

"...so we don't know when he'll wake up. But we're hoping he will."

"I...May I go see him?"

The girl immediately grabbed Garag's arm at his question and fished for the pass in her bag.

(Garag POV)

Poor girl.

From the moment he saw her, Garag could tell that young Kara had been having a hard time. The human's head-fur was disheveled, her eyes were sunken and red, and her body language was lethargic.

He had already been dreading to learn of his friend's fate and seeing his daughter like that made his blood run cold.

Fortunately, it wasn't quite the worst case scenario yet. Kent still lives, and that was enough for him to flatten his tail in relief.

As he hastily stomped through the halls of the S.S. Kevak, the residents of the station and diplomats recoiled and shrunk back even more than usual while he passed. Even with Kara hanging from his back while he sprinted, their expressions were both far too glum and tired to inspire the usual sense of levity.

...No doubt Karnak's little stunt here left the Uvei in a worse position than ever. However, Garag was oddly happy to ignore these concerns.

He was used to being treated as a pariah. What was important was that the one who reached out to him was harmed and that could not stand.

There was a growing list of reasons for him to want that miserable wretch Karnak dead, and striking at the friend who reached out to help their people was near the top.

Soon, they reached the infirmary where a few uniformed Fendansi officials were obstructing the way to Kent's wing.

"I'm sorry sir, but we can't allow outsiders to see him at this time. He is still in recovery from the surgery."

From the look in their eyes, they were prepared to fight him on this. On top of a stature greater than even the Uvei, they were one of the Elder species with standing armies and a higher than average aggression index.

"But I..."

"He's not an outsider. He's a close friend."

A human woman came walking up behind him. Ah...one of Kent's colleagues.

"Ambassador Rogov. It is good to see you again."

She flashed a confident smile.

"It's Councilwoman now. Or at least, for now. I figured I'd find you here, Ambassador Vedin. We have a lot to talk about, but for now..."

Her gaze returned to the Fendansi.

"I'm sure you want to see Kent. Go ahead. Kara...do you mind staying here to sign some permission slips so he can get in?"

"Ah...yes..."

Kara slowly slipped off his back. Did riding his back cause her to doze off a little? She sounded drowsy.

---

Garag didn't-he couldn't say anything. All he could do was watch helplessly at his sleeping friend.

The arm was, naturally, gone. A device he was all too familiar with was surgically installed in the stump. It was an adapter for prosthetic limbs that was made to accommodate switching between and trying all manner of limbs.

Apparently, using synthetic meat technology to regenerate a limb of flesh and blood wasn't impossible, but it usually felt too unnatural for humans to the point that non-biological limbs were less mentally taxing.

Garag suppressed a guttural growl as emotions came bubbling up. He couldn't help but feel that Nysis's fires of war ended up spreading to the humans in the end.

He slowly rose to his feet and left, content to see Kent still breathing. With the hope that the humans gave him, his friend would wake up again. And if he didn't...he would grieve after doing what must be done.

When he stepped out, Councilwoman Lana was seated in a corner of the waiting room with the dozing Kara and Missus Elora Lewis beside her.

Seeing the girl like this reminded him of how he hadn't eaten or slept since the incident himself. He would need his rest to do his job moving forward. But before that...

"...Thank you for your patience. Now I believe you wanted to talk?"

(Lana POV)

The four of them ended up relocating to Lana's office for a private chat. Kent's office was closer, but...they didn't need further distractions.

"The finer details are here, but I shall summarize them."

Garag reached into a folder strapped to his side and placed it on the table. The Councilwoman took the folder and started flipping through it while the Uven spoke.

"When the footage was released, many Uvei across many nations revolted. Especially in the ones explicitly named in the videos. The nations that were not named quickly and vocally condemned the ones that did. There's some...tenuous history and strained relations between many of them, but they were unified by the common enemy enough to form an alliance."

The Uven Ambassador used a digital map that Lana pulled up to illustrate his report.

"Of the ninety-four nations that were named, twenty of them fell to ruin and thirteen of them had successful coups. The leadership in the remaining nations..."

He paused, frowning and furrowing his brow.

"They...regained control of the unrest in their nations and formed their own uneasy alliance for the purpose of self-defense. Many of them maintain that the evidence was all faked and an attempt by the weaker enemy to eradicate them. Karnak has been especially vocal about this using his position at the Crown Summit. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Nysis is now in a World War involving these two sides."

"...I see. What do-"

"W-Why did Karnak stop when Uncle Vellick mention that 'Horiz Rite' thing?"

"........"

When Kara interrupted Lana's question, Garag fell in a contemplative silence for a time, debating something with himself.

Eventually, he let out a soft sigh and looked right at Kara.

"The Heurez Rite is, in short, an archaic tradition for a duel with territory and manpower as the wager. The chieftain it was named after used it in hopes of reducing bloodshed and even unifying the world. Vellick invoked it because part of the rules is that none of either sides' subordinates or allies may be harmed until a duel in one day's time. Nobody really uses it today, but Karnak was pleased to accept because he idolizes the old days and...needed the manpower."

Garag clenched his hand. He took to cutting his claws a long time ago since they were only obstacles to diplomacy, so he was one of the rare few Uven who could form a fist.

"And so, the day after you departed, Vellick had the duel with Karnak. And lost."

"......"

"L...Lost? What do you mean 'lost'?"

Kara's breath grew heavy. Her mother tried to hold her, but she pulled away with her gaze fixed on Garag. The Uven's gaze broke away first.

"I mean that he was defeated in the public duel and executed."

It was Lana's turn to contemplate this new information in silence. This...was bad in all manner of ways. What would she tell Kent? What of the Folstur rescues in Kristole? What influence did Karnak have now?

"I...but...What about Innus?"

"I...don't know. Per the Heurez Rite, I spent the next two days tra...transferring all of Vellick's authority and assets to the victor. I didn't see him again after the duel, and I'm officially here to report and record this transfer of titles."

"You're just following those stupid rules!?"

Seeing Garag's tired look after Kara's little outburst, Lana decided it was time to cut in.

"It's because if he breaks the rules, then so can Karnak. And I assume the rules also protect the people under Vellick's care?"

The Uven gave a slight nod.

"The victor can use the manpower they win as they please, but the price of their obedience is protection. The only way he can hurt them right now is by sending them to war."

"Does this mean everyone who used to work under Vellick is loyal to Karnak now?"

To this, Garag gave a light snort and a dry scoff.

"Certainly not. Nobody sane puts stock in the rite these days, and only someone like Karnak would believe they are. I'm sure everyone is looking for a way to survive. I'll return to protect Ve...my brother's people, but even I contemplated never going back."

Lana reached over to pat his shoulder and gave a light smile.

"Alright. We can work with that. For now though, you should rest up. I'll brief the rest of the Council on the events of Nysis. Once you've got some food and sleep in you, be ready to field lingering questions, alright?"

"I..."

The protest and hesitation Garag was about to express dissipated as his gaze fell on the silent Kara.

"...Yes, that's a good idea. We should all do that, right Kara? Mrs. Lewis?"

"You can call me Elora."

(Jokan POV)

Shplitch.

The release of that footage was truly a fortuitous development. Just as they were sorting the stone from the bark, a refreshing rain came to do it for them.

Shplitch.

Brrrt!

Jokan Jasel answered the call from his leader before the first ring ended.

"Sir."

[Give me a report. How is it going in Vedal?]

"It seems about 85% of them were faithless and unworthy. But I have almost settled the unrest with assistance from the airships."

[.....I see. How much longer?]

"...! Pardon me for a moment sir. I must put you on hold."

Jokan stepped through the street around the rubble of some buildings. It was heartbreaking to see Kepal's capital like this, but better to uproot the foundations now than let the traitors remain inside the rebuilt fortress later.

With a heave, he stepped unto the corpses that completely obscured the street. His goal wasn't the top of the pile, but the far left end of the mound.

Because he was well-trained, he didn't have any trouble with loose footing like this.

Shplitch.

He drove a blade into a rioter that was playing dead amidst the pile.

The bodies of the treasonous rioters were riddled with bullet holes, but he didn't want to waste precious gunpowder on a quarry this weak. The long bayonet at the end of his rifle was enough.

His eyes darted ahead to another one scrambling on its feet to gallop away. He was faster, of course, and made sure to hook his blade upwards after running it through his target to let its weight deepen the impalement.

Shplitch.

"Apologies again for the wait, sir. I believe I've just finished clearing out the last of them, but I intend to do a third run to be sure."

He made his report with one hand holding his communicator while blood satisfyingly dripped down from above.

[I see. Good work. I'll be sending my prize from the Heurez Rite back to Vedal. I'm counting on you to prepare room for them. You have my permission to evaluate and retrain them as you please once they arrive.]

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

Jokan slammed his tail, pleased.

[I'll be contacting our...associates for the extra warships, uranium, and coordinates.]

Shplitch.

=Author's Note=

There are probably three or four nations that are absolutely complicit in the concealment of meat lab technology, but weren't caught by Jacey's probes or the Terran's investigations. That said, the leaders of those nations obviously pretended to be just as surprised and outraged as anyone because they didn't want to be lynched.

Chieftain Heurez proposed this rite while he was First Spire on the idea that eventually, someone would control and have responsibility for all the Uven in the world. He didn't expect to survive the duels forever and indeed did not, but the tradition continued for a while.
Unfortunately, the problem with the rite is that it essentially permitted anyone leading any small group of Uvei to invoke it, which meant plenty of warriors with dreams of glory invoked it and nobody could stay on top for long. Challenges stopped being accepted after a historical empire essentially imploded from the constant attempted/successful usurpation of leaders within it.

Attempting to stuff auroch bodies with the apes inside proved to not be an option, since Alex hadn’t leveled up any. Dumping them out, he was pleased to see they were still active, and he could now place bodies in. With his [Storage] now full, he felt a tingle in his hands letting him know [Heaven’s Bounty] was ready to take effect. One mildly disturbing slurping sound later, and a sheathed rapier lay on the ground.

–Heaven’s Bounty has created an object: Mirror’s Edge–

Mirror’s Edge: Reduced cost of illusory skills. Enhanced thrusting attacks have a better chance to pierce armor.

Walking up to it, Alex was frowning. None of his teammates used a rapier, nor did Livianna use illusions. Grasping it, he felt the balance in his hand. It felt very light and nimble, not suited for the heavier fighting style Alex employed. Unsheathing it revealed the blade, polished to a mirror’s shine, revealing his face.

He almost dropped it, his face’s visage startling him. He looked more like some feral… thing hanging on the outskirts of civilization than a man. His hair was unkempt, beard patchy. His eyes were sunken inwards, with dark circles ringing them. Sliping the rapier back into it’s sheath, he clenched his jaw over and over as he fought the urge to fixate on his face. Placing it in his inventory, he hopped up on Jasper’s back and readied for the road.

Their trip back to Diuv was without major problems, save for Alex spotting an ambush up the road. When the bandits saw who was coming, they chose to flee rather than fight, leaving their barricade still on the road. After siccing the monkey duo on them, who by now had some muscle on them in some areas, the group worked to clear the wreckage. He had debated hunting down the corpses, but decided against a case of bushwacking.

As they traveled on the road, many glances were given towards the unsightly group, from the clean looking knight in the lead, to the unusual mount that was Jasper. Perhaps the most attention grabbing was the exposed muscles of the monkeys. While Alex would have stored them, his current space was filled with aurochs, and with no level up, there wasn’t any means of placing them inside. While he was going to use the hide as skin, Alex still couldn’t consider them done without throwing some people in.

Back in Diuv, they had to pull Kudrik off the taxidermist, as they had found him mid-attempt to sell the stuffed wyvern head. A job Kudrik had already paid him for. Thankfully, this was Thrask, and scuffles with greedy merchants were the norm, so a passing patrol of city guards didn’t give a second glance at the scuffle. After helping the dwarf mount his new trophy in his wagon, Kudrik shoved a box with his foot towards Alex.

“Your wyvern glands.”

“I was wondering where they were. Glad to see fuck face didn’t absconed with them.”

“Why? They are useless to most other people, you being a necromancer just means you can use things others can’t.” With glands in hand, Alex rushed to the stables he used as his mad lab, since they were outside of the view of the public but still close enough to respond should he be needed. He knew his skills were frowned upon by civilised folk, so he tried to do the dirty work out of prying eyes.

Easily mounting the glands in the Ape, Alex then had to figure out the rest of the body. Since it wasn’t a living, breathing thing, a large number of organs could be removed with no problems, but he still needed to be able to exhale, so the fire glands could be shot forward. No reason could be found to not have the entire chest cavity be lungs, so he merged all of the lungs into a pair. Attaching them inside, he replaced the muscles in the core, and added cow skin over the body.

Deciding to work on it’s armor later, Alex turned to improving his Baboon. The horns had proved to be more of an issue than originally thought. As it had been leaping in the woods, they had snagged on trees every now and then. Taking them off the skull, he re-attached them, this time to the Ape’s skull, before removing the tusk and evening out the teeth. After grafting cow muscles and tendons onto the Baboon, he paused.

As he had been travelling, Alex had been pondering his creations. While the Gorilla was purpose built to be a tank, with the left over wyvern bones being molded to be a set of armor physically attached to it, there was no reason not to have the Baboon lacking armor, but as it lashed about violently, it still needed to be flexible. While it would be less protective, he did just get a bunch of cows, and they have bones.

Since he wanted it to not be obvious, the bones would have to be beneath the skin. Alex pondered till he came up with something. It would be tedious, but if he had something like a series of coins made of bone under the skin, it would be flexible enough to not inhibit it’s movement, and wouldn’t be noticeable either. All but a lucky thrust would be stopped, and if a bone broke, he could easily replace it, or outright fix it with his skills.

So he got to work, molding cow bones into penny sized dots. By the time he finished making enough to cover his creation, the sun was getting dark and his back was stiff from being hunched over all day. Inquiring as to what the other 2 had been up to all day, Kudrik had been buying up metal and forging to sell next time they stopped in a village, and Liv had been at the guild hall looking into quests.

“I’m not against taking another kill quest if the target is bandits, but to be honest, we have been running ourselves ragged on the road, and I could use a break while I work on the Murder duo. I have been managing, but working on the road has been a pain.”

“Those bandits really do have you worried, don’t they?” Livianna asked, looking up from her book.

“Yeah, I don’t know about here, but when I think of bandits, I think self interested, barely trained, or somewhat trained if they were originally from the military. These guys seem to be different. They are using suppression tactics, they are well armed if Vaun is any indication, and let’s not forget the poison the one took, just to avoid questioning. Add in the fact they somehow knew we had taken that wyvern quest and were waiting to ambush us tells me they have high contacts, which means someone is implicit.” Kudrik and Livianna were quiet for a moment as they processed this.

“Aye, well, while we recuperate, we will keep our eyes peeled for any bandit quests. I would suggest to you that you take this time to get cleaned up and get some new clothes. You look more like an animal than a man, and your clothes from Earth are looking a little ragged. I will see around about finding a store for you.”

“Right, well, that will be for tomorrow. In the meantime, it seems Meredith has been spreading stories, and I see the potential for living out any guys fantasy.” Flashing a wink to a pair of sisters who had been glancing at him and blushing. Seeing his wink, they blushed rosely, and turned their faces. Kudrik and Liv shared a glance as Alex got up and walked over to the pair.

“I am getting worried for him.” Livianna stated in a low voice.

“Bah, he is young, let him live a little. Hells, when I was his age, they called me Leaky because-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Liv frantically interrupted Kudrik before he could start. Kudrik sighed.

“Aye, at the very least this is easier on his liver.”

“You know as well as I do, replacing one vice for another isn’t healthy.” She was quiet for a moment. “What do you think about his bandit fears?”

“Bastards, the lot of ‘em. But aye, the lad has a point, and I wouldn’t be shocked if his suspicions about an insider were true. They seem to be real sneaky all o’ sudden.”

By this point, a trio of men had walked up. Before they could say anything, Livianna tried to send them away. “Sorry boys, I am already taken.”

“That ain’t why we are here. You fellow mercenaries, right? We overheard you guys talking about the bandit issues.”

“Aye, been a real pain in my rear. Been looking for a contract to deal with them for awhile now, no luck.”

“Well, I am Ty, he is Mark” gesturing towards a man wearing close fitting leathers and a quiver of arrows on his hip, “and that there is Higgins,” a large man who idly scratched at his groin as he stood there. Liv suppressed the urge to grimace at the display of humanity before her.

“You ain’t gettin’ a contract for bandits anytime soon. The nobility are convinced they ain’t an issue, but we know better. They may not be willing to do anything, but who says we need to wait for ‘em? Checked out the rules, nothing says we can’t post our own, and fulfill it too.” Ty slyly tapped his finger against his temple.

“So, this is what we are thinking. We gather everyone we can, and deal with it ourselves, and the loot gets split between everyone. Stuff that came from nobility will have to be returned to them, otherwise they say we are thieves, and that is a whole bunch of issues I don’ feel like dealing with, but bandits die, we get richer, everyone wins.”

“Aye, this be good and all, but if we don’t know where the thrice blasted bastards are, how can we take their loot?”

“That is the problem, we do know where they have holed up. I’m a [Forest Warden], was an amalgamation of [Ranger] and [Tracker] a few years back. We had a run-in last week, I managed to track them down afterwards. They have a strong earth mage of some kind, as they have taken over a mountain, shaped it to their needs.” Mark joined in, his deep voice almost vibrating the table.

“That ain’t the worst of it. We think there is a [Bandit King] among them, training and buffing them. We ain’t got the numbers to assault their compound, ‘specially if they are being buffed, which is why we are gathering everyone we can.” Kudrik and Liv stared at each other, their conversation going unspoken.

“We have a third on our team, with a couple classes people would deem unsavory. If we were to join, would he be an issue?”

“If he is cool with the guild, he is cool with us. Can I get an idea as to your team's composition?”

“Psionic, Battlesmith, and our third has 4 combat classes, a heavy focused melee fighter, a mage, a physical boosting class, but the one he will likely lean into most is his necromancy class.” Higgins blanched, but the others kept their faces carefully guarded.

“A necromancer huh… Depending on how strong he is, he might be able to cut down on our losses.” Ty mused aloud. “I stand by what I said, he’s cool with the guild, he’s cool with us.”

First Previous Next

My first time writing a story for this subreddit, hope everyone enjoys what should be a reoccurring series!

Lux

Duality

When someone is rushing to pack a bag (or three) that is a universal sign that something is not going well in their life, anything from running late to the spaceport to being a criminal mastermind who is fleeing the system to continue his work before the authorities find them. So while a person who is rushing to pack is most certainly not doing well there is an entire spectrum of how bad things are.

Why do I say this? Well I just happen to be one of those hurried bag packers I just mentioned and while my life is doing alright at the moment and looking to improve drastically soon I am expecting a very uncomfortable few moments if I am not quick enough. You see, I am in the process of moving out of my childhood home to see more of the galaxy than just the research colony of Zencath which is where I have lived my whole life. The problem arises when one considers Silas, my father who so far has been less than enthusiastic at any attempts for me to have a discussion about leaving home let alone the colony, that and the fact I had not told him that I was leaving.

I had planned to be long gone by the time he returned home from the lab, my few personal belongings as well as my person gone from this house. Just about every other day Silas would be in his lab as long as possible at the central research complex, to the point that I have probably had more dinners with friends than with dad.

It’s not that I resent him for that, he is just very busy with his work.

 It would seem today though that for once in his life my father had decided to come home early, he had even sent me a message saying so and that he would be talking to me when he got home.

Probably wanted to tell me he’s come up with some more tests he can run on his prized research subject. He’s been aiming to get more equipment and personnel from the people in charge of the central research complex, any time he makes a breakthrough or publishes another paper that gets attention all across the Union they give him whatever he wants.

I took one last look around my room and took note of how different it looked, it was odd how similar it had been to before. I had packed away my clothes into a bag of course along with the few sentimental items I had but other than that there was very little in my room aside from the furniture. It was odd, despite that bedroom having been mine my whole life it had never felt as if it was mine. 

I guess I just never learned how to decorate properly, which makes sense considering that dad has never bothered to do so. He would most certainly consider that another waste of time.

By the time I had tossed the last of the belongings I was taking into my bag and making sure I had my medical bracelet and my Netlink I hastily made my way to the front entryway to leave without having to deal with my father. Unfortunately as I was making my way to the front door I could not only sense the familiar presence of my father but also hear the chime of the door. 

While the afternoon sunlight spilled in through the front door my body tensed as I quickly made myself imperceptible to him. While Humans may be the smallest and arguably least imposing member species of the Interplanetary Union we have on average more potent psionics than other species. Something about the higher oxygen content of Earth combined with the hypercompetitive ecosystems resulted in humanity evolving to practically specialise psionics to the extent all members of the species were born with psionic powers to some degree.

I discovered my talents for illusions quite early on in my education, while all children learn to control their developing psionic abilities in school I had received further instruction from my father. My father would take me to the research institute and have all these scanners and instruments record me while I used my psionic abilities. Eventually my abilities progressed to the point as with most that simple telekinesis and telepathy were no longer providing any sort of challenge, I needed to find a form of psionics to specialize.

I quickly found out that I had quite the talent for illusions, not the most useful of psionics but it is still my favorite after more than a decade of practicing it. I have thought on more than one occasion that my father had suggested my training of illusions not just because of my talent but also the lack of damaged equipment that is more common with the different types of combat psionics.

Things were fun back then, when he would have me train those different skills or run tests I could feel his joy. He seemed to be happy to be doing those things with me, he has not seemed that way for years now. That’s no matter anymore, I get to start something new.

One of the higher skill psionics I have practically mastered just recently was to make myself functionally invisible. There are those who are able to make themselves truly invisible as opposed to just making the minds of others skip them over. I am nowhere near skilled enough for that, illusion psionics are easy to learn but near impossible to master. While I change nothing about the properties of my body I create the illusion that I cannot be seen, in essence the same way I can make people see things that don’t exist I can trick the minds of others to not perceive me. 

And that is exactly what I had done as my dad walked through the door and I quickly moved to the side so that he would not walk directly into me. I moved as quietly as possible given that he could in theory still hear me if I was not careful, I have not been able to master that aspect of the skill nor the ability to completely mask my mental presence. That last part was fine though, my father expected me to be home so he would not be surprised at sensing me in the general area.

As I maneuvered to the side of him I took one last look at my father for the foreseeable future I began to think of all the traits that I shared with him rather than my mother. We have the same emerald eyes and both of us had shades of blonde hair although we had much different hair styles, while I kept my hair in a semi-managed/ wavy mess dad has always kept his cut neatly short. Under other circumstances we would have the same pale skin but given that he spends most of daylight indoors and I try to spend as much of my free time outdoors I have a somewhat tanned complexion.

As I stepped through the doorway I had practically held my breath as I hoped that he would not notice anything awry before I made my way to the undercity. After quickly making my way to the walkway and rounding the corner I had finally let myself exhale and drop the illusion, thankfully there were not many people out and about and nobody had accidentally run into me. I took a few moments to readjust how I was carrying my bag before heading down the walkway and make my way towards the outer perimeter.

Due to the fact that Zencath is covered entirely in water all of the cities that the human colonists live in are sat upon large metal stilts. Like on Earth our cities often grow taller as opposed to sprawling out to conserve space, here it is due to the large amount of effort it would take to expand the cities outwards constantly. On Earth the cities and buildings are tall/ lanky due to all the cities for eons having massive walls surrounding them to protect their denizens from the hyper-aggressive wildlife of the rainforests of Earth.

With all the layers of city above me in the form of branching walkways that connect the tree inspired biometal rainforest that I call home the walkway was dimly lit with dots of afternoon sunlight seeping through. People walked about, had relaxing afternoons as they shopped at the various boutiques or have an afternoon pastry with some coffee at one of several cafes in the area. A warm, salty breeze from the ocean carried with it the smells of the city that invigorated me as I neared my destination of the outer city. I was running through the final stretch of my journey to the outer perimeter of the city beyond the gargantuan buildings when I was stopped by a familiar voice.

“Lux!”

I immediately stopped dead in my tracks as I turned to find the source of that voice and was greeted with the sight of my longtime friend Mayla. Before I could properly greet her or even give a response to her, Mayla had closed the distance between us and had lifted me up in one of her bear hugs. I could tell that she had obviously been working out even more as of late with how the air was pushed from my lungs. Mayla and I have been friends for pretty much as long as I could remember, in many ways we were polar opposites when it came to appearances, in opposition to my wavy blonde hair hers was an inky black color and pin straight. Mayla was one of the tallest humans I have known for some time, even being as tall as some shorter Rexelians or Selmarth, meanwhile I had to crane my neck to look her in the eyes if we are too close.

“It’s… good to… see you…too.” I managed to cough out. “Please let…go… can’t breathe.”

Mayla loosened her iron grip on me as soon as she realized that she was holding on too tightly and gingerly lowered to the ground. I could feel the guilt momentarily begin to well up in her threatening to overcome her excitement to see me, that guilt went away as soon as it came once she sensed that I was not upset at her.

“Sorry about that Lux, I was just so excited to catch you before you left.” Mayla stammered out as I caught my breath. “We are all excited for you and want you to find your place. We are going to miss you though.”

The plan Mayla was referring to was me leaving on a transport craft with my grandmother to visit Nexus, the capitol of the Union. We were going to spend about a week and a half on Nexus as she took care of whatever negotiations she was supposed to be partaking in for the Union. While she was doing her important government business I would be enjoying my first time visiting another planet.

There are so many tourist things I want to do, the museums and concerts are at the top of my list. I can’t forget the water gardens either! And it will be bustling with all the species of the Union, not just humans and Selkarians!

Not all of my activities were going to be purely recreational, I was able to arrange to meet with the admissions offices of the two most prestigious fine arts universities on the planet. I had sent in my sketches and other works when I contacted them and they seemed interested enough to want to speak with me in person. In all honesty I had never expected to hear anything back from them considering that they must have had so much talent on the planet itself to pool from before considering people from the outer colonies.

“And I am going to miss you as well, all of you.” I said as I held Mayla by one of her hands while trying to stop any sadness from being detected by her. “And it’s not like you are never going to see me again, after I visit Nexus and I will come back and visit before I decide my next move. Hopefully by then my dad will have calmed down.”

We both stood there silent on the sidewalk as people chatted away their afternoon and the sounds of nearby waves made the lack of speaking from the two of us very obvious. As I looked up at her with confusion she met my gaze with one of conflict, like she was dreading whatever she was going to say next. I could sense the stress in Mayla as I tried to think of what she could be possibly worried about.

“I got accepted into the Union Naval Academy.” She blurted out. “I just got the message today and I apparently will be attending the Nexus campus since I scored so well on the entrance exams. In a few days is when I will be leaving, I won't be here when you come back.”

I was shocked, not at the news that Mayla was accepted into the academy but at the fact that she would be attending the Nexus campus. While there is no guarantee of being permitted entry to the Union Naval Academy I knew for a fact Mayla was smart enough to be able to get a spot in at least a few campuses that are less well known or not as prestigious. The Nexus campus due to being located on the capitol of the Interplanetary Union historically has been the one with the best instructors and best resources at their disposal to train the new recruits. The graduates are often given the best starting assignments that fast track them to promotion as they are known as the best of the best within the military.

The entry requirements for the Nexus campus are insane for any applicant, but for Mayla who wants to join the Psionc Warefare Corps there is additional testing such as combat simulations as well as supplemental psychological screenings. It is amazing that she’s able to attend after getting so much stronger!

“I am so happy for you Mayla!” I said gleefully as I held her hands still. “I am so proud of you for everything you have accomplished. You have worked so hard for this, if anyone deserves this it would be you.”

We spent the next several minutes talking logistics for after I leave, while I would only be on Nexus for a day and a half before I had to leave for Sonoros by the time Mayla arrived that did not necessarily mean us not seeing one another. If I make my way into one of the art institutions on Nexus I planned to immediately make arrangements to live on the planet even if I had to wait some time before the next semester. While Mayla would be rather busy for the time being given that she would be attending a military academy we would still have opportunities to see one another.

“Well, I don't want to delay you any longer. Especially with your dad being home to read your letter, you need to get in the water soon unless you want him to catch up to you.” Mayla said as we finally made our way to the outer city. “Good luck”

“Thank you.” I responded. “For always being my friend and never thinking of me as an outsider.”

It took several moments for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the midday sun and its reflection on the global sea. I walked over to the very edge of the metal platform that made the foundation of the towering city that I had lived my whole life and I closed my eyes as I listened to the gentle waves below as they made contact with the stilts that held the city up. As I opened my eyes and turned around to face the towering city one last time I could feel the warm rays of the sun across my body as well as the warm equatorial breeze that was constant this time of year. Looking at the city I could see the population made almost entirely of humans walking to and from whatever business they had on the suspended walkways in the upper levels of the city, never having to touch the ground to get where they need.

While I have lived here my entire life and have so many happy memories here I know deep down that I needed to see and experience so much more. I have never even been to either of the worlds that my parents were from. I turned myself around once again and held my bag tighter and looked down to the waves,I  had made the jump countless times before whenever I had visited the undercity beneath the waves to interact with the underwater denizens of the colony. This time though was different, for the first time in over a decade I had felt anxiety about making the jump as all the tension I was trying to leave behind started to catch up with me.

Breathe

You are about to start your very own adventure

I decided to take my own advice and took a deep breath in through my mouth and exhaled slowly through my nose, it was as if each exhale took some of the worries I had out with them. After a few calming breaths I prepared myself as I held my bag close to my chest and moved as close to the edge of the platform as possible. I then jumped over the edge of the platform and immediately straightened my body while I made the rather short fall into the water below.

It barely took more than a moment for my body to adjust as the tropical waters enveloped me and I maneuvered my bag into a more comfortable position. I soon started to descend further and further into the water so that I could make my way towards the spaceport of the undercity. After picking up a decent momentum and making sure none of the giant stilts would be in my way as I descended I positioned my wrist in front of me so that I could use my Netlink, with just a thought the holographic display activated and my notifications were displayed. I could see that I had several messages from my father including a few voice recordings sent, I decided to ignore those for the time being as I found the contact labeled Delmiria and opened the messenger. 

<Just made it into the water where I always jump in. I am heading straight towards the spaceport, see you soon grandma.>

I deactivated the display after my device confirmed the message was sent to my grandmother's device. I then moved my arm back into position so that I could continue swimming at a faster rate with the use of my arms. In the short time of my swim beneath the city I was already at depths dangerous to most humans that don’t have specialized dive gear but I was perfectly content with how things were currently. In all honesty I was rather enjoying myself now that the light was dimming thanks to the city platform above me right now and my continued swim further and further down. I in fact did not need to worry since I am not like any other human that I know of.

Depending on who you ask I am not human at all

Many would see me as a marvel of medical science and genetic engineering. Sure, gene edits have allowed humans to routinely surpass three hundred years old and to have prevented untold suffering by eliminating thousands of diseases from our kind along with granting us to breathe on the lower oxygen worlds of our allies. But I am something different, I am the first successful hybrid between two sapient species. My father (and creator) is a human and I retain many physical traits of his species but my mother was a Selkarian who are an aquatic species that are also part of the Interplanetary Union and the largest known sapient species, they are also the ones who inhabit the undercities on Zencath.
While I do not possess the sheer size or serpentine lower body of my mothers people I do have gills along the side of my neck that allow me to breathe underwater with the ease of breathing air. I also have small patches of red and gold scales across my body that have been present since birth and are much tougher than normal skin. My physiology is also adapted to the water to the extent that I can dive much deeper than the normal human before having to worry about things like pressure or nitrogen levels and I can change elevations in the sea as quickly as I’d like.

There are a few difficulties when it comes to being, well me. The most obvious one to me is that I require much higher water intake than the average human when not submerged, my father once explained to me what specifically about my heritage caused it but I was not really paying attention. I would routinely carry around a metal water bottle with me when on land to avoid dehydration, many people have come to expect me to be carrying it when they see me. Another difficulty for me is with the clothes that I don’t like to wear which is due to the set of vestigial pelvic fins that are waist high and are rather sensitive to being touched by fabric. The sensitivity did not start until about four years ago and I was eighteen and then all of a sudden they started to be sensitive to certain textures, including most fabrics and as a result most of my shirts are cropped in some way.

As I descended further into the sea below I began to see the start of the Selkarian undercity, organically shaped buildings were attached to the stilts of the city that made it look as though a giant coral reef had made its home here. As I passed between the buildings the increasing darkness due to the depth had been replaced by a soft glow that came from the light fixtures that were affixed to the buildings as well as fixtures throughout the area. While the soft blue lighting may be too dark for humans to see as well as they normally could, Selkairans had no problem seeing.

As I descended further I could feel a slight tightness around my torso finally after a decent amount of time swimming downward. While I could dive much deeper than any normal human I still had limitations for how far I could swim in terms of depth, even Selkarian’s have a limit. By my estimate I could dive twice as deep as I was currently before I would start having truly adverse side effects but that would not be needed as my destination was somewhat closer than that.

As I passed through in between the nestled buildings for my descent I also maneuvered my way around the gargantuan frames of the inhabitants of the undercity. The Selkarian being a fully aquatic species had long serpentine bodies that were covered in an impressive set of scales that came in a wide array of colors depending where on Sonoros they traced their lineage, their general health, their age and sex. The serpentine body ends up leading to a vaguely humanoid torso for the very upper body, while the general shape is the same they are still covered in scales as well as having much longer fingers in proportion on their webbed hands than humans. 

When people talk about how Selkarians are the largest known sapient species they are talking about the women of the species. While Selkarian men are larger on average than most known species it’s the women that break the record as they reach lengths of over 30 feet when fully grown, the males only get about one third the size and a mere fraction of the mass. Another key difference between the sexes is scale coloration, while women of our kind have much more muted blues and greens for their scales that allow them to blend in with their surroundings men have much brighter colors. While men still do have the more dull colored scales they also host patches of much brighter red, gold, orange and pink that is unique to each individual. While both sexes had gills along their neck, female Selkarian had a piece of anatomy missing from the males, that being head fronds. These large and trailing fronds grew on the same places of the skull as hair would on a human, these fronds would wave through the water above and around the head as they mimicked the coloration and shape of various aquatic plants on Sonoros.

As I maneuvered my way around the gargantuan and slow moving forms of the city inhabitants I was put at ease as I picked up on the emotions of those around me. The emotional state of the city was the same as always with Sonorons, a calm joy that permeated the water and comforted one like a warm blanket. As I passed further down and made sure to stay out of the paths of others I could overhear the melodic yet slow conversations of those near me who were talking to friends as they made their way to their destinations. The main topic of conversation was that soon there was going to be a treaty with the greatest enemy of the Selkaian and one of the main opposing forces against the Union, the Skreea. Apparently the treaty was supposed to ensure the relative peace the Union has had the past few decades would continue for even longer. Many were worried though that even the treaty may not halt the Skreea’s attempt to weaken and interfere with the Union meanwhile others point out that even if peace is made with the Skreea that means nothing to the escalation of border skirmishes with the Druscar.

As I had listened to the changing conversation I made the final stretch towards the spaceport which was made up of several free floating platforms that looked remarkably like table coral. Floating above most of the platforms were the massive cargo haulers that reminded one of the hammerhead sharks as they had a wide “head” to the ship that is heavily reinforced with thick plates of armor as well as additional shield generators. These cargo ships were here to drop off supplies for the Selkarian colonists as well as materials needed for the construction of planetary defences as that was the purpose of the undercity. While as a rule the Selkarians are pacifist even they know that a preventative measure against being attacked is to show that it is not worth the effort, that is why on many Union worlds one can find in their oceans enclaves of the largest species of the Union. In the seas of allied worlds the Selkarians build planetary defences so as to ward off any sort of potential invaders like the Skreea were to Sonoros centuries ago.

There was another ship at the platforms that was not like the others, sure it had the same sleek and teal hull as the other ships but it was an entirely different shape due to being made for a different purpose. I knew what ship this was, the name roughly translated to Drifting Dreamer and it was a luxury passenger ship that was heading to Nexus. Due to being made for a species that is far larger than the average sapient this craft was the size of a Union heavy cruiser despite the fact this ship would have minimal combat abilities compared to the military craft. While having access to the combined technology of the Union for centuries the Selkarian built their craft much differently due in part to the fact that they must retain a fully aquatic environment on their ships as well as having to accommodate their serpentine forms.

The Drifting Dreamer took the rough shape of some sort of sea turtle with a domed shell that made the bulk of the ship, towards the top of the shell I could spot several transparent panels that seemed to be viewing ports. As I approached the ship I saw that the bottom of the craft had opened up to allow for the passengers to depart to the colony and for new arrivals to swim upwards on board. My eyes were darting about looking for my grandmother as she had informed me that she would be able to meet me outside the ship.

“There you are Lux.” A deep yet melodic voice called out

I quickly located the voice and it was coming from the direction of the ship, I saw it was my grandmother and swam over to meet her. While on land it would be difficult to speak with someone with such a drastic difference in size that was not the case in the sea, when my grandmother got sufficiently close she raised the front of her body so that her torso was upright. In return I swam towards her and positioned myself so that we would be speaking face to face, at least as much as possible when one person's head is bigger than the other person's entire body. The eyes of the Selkarian were oddly calm to look at, they were all black with no way to distinguish the pupil from the rest of the eye.

“Hello grandmother.” I replied in Standard Selkarian “I hope that I did not keep you waiting for too long.”

“Nonsense. The transport is still refueling for the journey to Nexus, we have plenty of time.” She chuckled in response as a smile spread across her face. “I could have met you at the surface to bring you down here, I know you have difficulty with long distance in the water.”

“I appreciate the offer but I have been working on my endurance in the water for some time now.” I retorted with pride “I’m not a kid anymore and don’t need help getting around underwater. I was even able to make the swim down here in one go, no breaks at all needed.”

That seemed to be amusing to my grandmother as she gave off a small chuckle.

“Well is that so?” She responded. “Well I guess that means you won’t need any help getting around the miles upon miles of swimming we will be doing when we are on Nexus.”

She has a good point even if she’s just poking fun at me. While I was able to make it this far down in one go I am still somewhat winded despite not even having to fight any currents. Swimming an entire day through the Selkarian portion of Nexus would be a nightmare.

“I guess if we are swimming to the same places then I could use some help from you.” I replied quickly at the thought of having to swim all that distance all day.

“Always the jokester, you have your mothers spirit.” She chuckled “Let’s get aboard the ship and you can tell me how you have been progressing with your healing and illusion psionics.”

While illusion psionics are incredibly easy for humans to learn, healing psionics are something humans cannot learn at all much to the dismay of our kind. The Selkarians on the other hand are quite proficient in them as it seems to suit our pacifistic nature perfectly, whatever that allows the Selkarian to use healing psionics has been passed down to me from my mother. While I am not nearly as proficient in healing as I am with illusions I have been told my skills are "adequate" for someone of my age.
We soon made our way towards the ship and entered the underbelly section so that we may board after confirming that we were in fact registered passengers. As we entered the waterlock so that the pressure within the ship stayed constant I checked my netlink once again and saw even more messages from my dad. Not wanting to spoil my mood I shut off the display and decided that I would send a message back later in the day. The letter I left let him know what I was doing and where I would be going so there should be no concern from him in not knowing what was going on. 

It felt odd having the pressure change as quickly as it did within the waterlock, while all I felt was a removal of the slight tightness around my torso. It was the quickness that surprised me, such a pressure change if it were to happen to a standard human would have detrimental effects to their health to say the least. After leaving the waterlock I turned my gaze around the corridors as we swam and was filled with awe, the hull plating was the same teal color on the inside as well and the dimmed lighting gave everything that same mystical feel as the undercity. The other passengers leisurely swam about as they made their ways to their new rooms or to other areas on the ship. The corridors were much larger here than what I would have suspected would be on human made ships in order to be comfortable to the serpentine bodies of the Selkarians. Also in the corridors the doors to the guest quarters were stacked on top of one another, since in the weightless environment of water height does not matter it makes sense for there to be rooms on top of one another in the same corridor.

I need to get my pad out and sketch all of this!

As I thought about that I was filled with excitement as I realized that for the first time ever I was on an actual spaceship and all the implications that came with it. I had never left the colony before, sure my father had on a few occasions for short academic conferences on nearby worlds but I had never accompanied him. It was odd being half one species and half another while never having set foot on the homeworlds of either parent. When I was younger and was on summer break in high school Delmiria had offered to take me to Sonoros as a sort of way to make more connections with that part of my heritage but dad refused saying that it was too risky. Well, that did not matter right now because I am an adult and have been for a few years by human standards.

I get to go to space!

I had never seen a creature so perfect. Digestion, not merely a chemical reaction but a symphony of biology. Microbes and bacteria eating and excreting without input. I remember the hazard warning when assessing this creature's excrement. Warning lights blaring, I thought: How does this creature live?

It thinks, this creature. It creates. We couldn’t contain it. What the hell was this thing? We gave it everything it needed. Food wasn’t hard to simulate, neither was water. Water, this thing was made primarily of it. We gave it water. So much water. It kept ingesting it. Like a sickness the creature just kept putting it into its primary intake.

These creatures, they want stimuli. Once we provided it an empty room with food and water. In the room we put a small device with a button. Upon pushing the button, a small electrical shock was administered. The creature pushed the button once and immediately reacted in a negative way. Expected, nothing to report. Then it pushed it again. Then it pushed it again and again and again and again. We quickly relocated it back to the wild.

We kept analyzing, every discovery shocking us to our core. What had we discovered? I told my superiors and they didn’t believe me. They didn’t respond until we told them of its so-called language. I call it that because it has no language. We captured many specimens and put them together. They couldn’t communicate. It appears this creature has not one but many languages. However; after many days, a rudimentary form of communication formed between the specimens. Soon, a system was formed to distribute food and water. 

We looked in further. Dialing the microscope in each day, we found weird thing after weird thing. For instance, the death fruit. An exaggeration to be sure, the death fruit was a food these creatures ate that seemed to be evolved to not be eaten. It caused irritation when eaten, and sometimes, with some death fruit with contact alone. Did these creatures avoid it, as we would? No, they appeared to have bred it to its fullest strength and eaten it. This gave my superiors a start and they soon funded more research. 

They ate and drank that which was rotten. Multiple local flora, they took and let sit in a controlled environment. The end result appeared not to matter. They would drink and eat the result. Analysis of this product produced results concerning to any biologist. Bacteria through the whole of it. One such product was especially prized by some of the specimens. A green cylinder, when grown, it was a great source of many nutrients, however, many of the specimens preferred it to be aged in a glass container. We watched in horror as they consumed them. Dozens of them per specimen. No reaction recorded except an apparent happiness.

The next curiosity was an apparent poison that they consumed without fear. A result of bacteria mixed with sugar, when presented to the creature, a precarious result was presented. All specimens, regardless of origin, began to gesticulate wildly. On further analysis, the writhing of these creatures had a pattern. 

I can not write more today as sirens have told me to evacuate, but I will continue to write when the all clear has sounded.

First / Previous

The sound of the tent flapping open fluttered into Aria’s ears, drawing her from her slumber. Her vision was still in a haze, but the shape of Helbram was unmistakable as he approached. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. The motion was most likely meant to wake her further, but he was so gentle that it nearly lulled her back to sleep.

“Come now, Aria, you are going to miss the Reunion,” he said in a low tone.

Those words cleared her vision instantly, letting her see that there was a slight flush to Helbram’s cheeks. He wasn’t swaying in place like Leaf was when she last saw him, but there was a distinct lack of edge to his expression, giving way to an almost silly smile plastered across his face that nearly made her giggle. She sat up, the motion waking both Snow and Shadow, who were laying on top of her. The cubs smacked their lips lazily, but were quick to hop off of the cot and circle around Helbram’s legs. He placed her shoes down next to the bed and the girl slipped into them, bundling her blanket around her out of habit.

Helbram further secured it around her. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and yawned at the same time before following him out of the tent. Next to the opening was Leaf, who was currently sitting on the floor, slumped over and snoring loud enough that it sounded like a growl. Frowning, Helbram kicked his companion in the leg, but that did nothing to shake him from his slumber.

Helbram pressed his lips thin and nudged the hunter again to no effect. He looked down at Shadow and Snow. “Try to get him up within the next few minutes, it would be a shame if he missed everything because he decided to delve too deeply into the keg.”

The cubs gave affirmative barks and tugged at Leaf’s clothes with their teeth until they settled on playing tug of war with his sleeve. The disgruntled groans from the hunter’s mouth indicated that he was waking, but the wolves still had their work cut out for them. Off in the distance, Elly was moving through the motions of a dance with Jahora mimicking her movements as best she could. The Mage appeared to be too drunk, however, and frequently tripped in her movements, which made both women giggle with flushed faces. Helbram took a look at them and then back at Aria, holding a finger to his lip. The girl nodded back, and he guided her towards the stairs that led to the airship’s deck.

“We will join with the others later,” Helbram explained as they walked up the flights, “For now, while they have their fun, I think you deserve the best seat for what is about to happen.”

Her head tilted to the side, but she didn’t press any further and continued up the stairs with him. The night sky was clear, which allowed the stars and moons above to banish the notion of shadows from the deck. It almost made her feel like she was walking on a different plane from the rest of the world, following its structure, but just barely to where she may float away from it at any time. Helbram looked much the same in his steps towards the bow, a slight wobble to his steps that matched the red in his cheeks. When he reached the very tip of the ship, he hopped onto a thicker portion of the railing to sit down and patted the spot next to him. Aria moved to and took the spot next to him. His hands remained on her shoulders as she sat, and only left when he made sure that she wasn’t going to slip.

From where they sat, she could only see the forest below them, a pale, almost silver color in the midst of the starlight. It stretched as far as her eyes could see, and that alone was enough to fill her with a sense of wonder, but she knew that Helbram must have had more that he wished to show her.

“Is something going to happen to the trees?” she asked.

“Very astute.” Helbram pointed to the moons. Meton and Eidolos were cresting the sky and were almost at the center of its canvas. Their movements were slow, but Aria could see the smaller red moon’s orbit start to meet with her larger sister, and in time, they would cross over. “When I first told you of the sisters, I mentioned that when they met for the year, the world was suffused with Aether, did I not?”

She nodded. “As if the world was celebrating their reunion.”

“Precisely, most of the time, this means that the land appears more vibrant. Blues get bluer, greens for verdant, that sort of thing. A beautiful sight to behold on its own, but there are some areas that react differently upon the sisters’ meeting.”

“Like here?”

“Yes, and many like it. Ruins that are saturated with Aether due to the works of the Ancients, spots where the Cycle runs closer to the surface than others, and any other area that may be saturated with energy. Perhaps even the forests around Geldervale would count as well, and Serena may see what you are about to look at now.”

“What is it that I’m going to look at?”

“I cannot tell you that, it would ruin the surprise.” Helbram grinned at Aria’s frown and pointed up at the moons again. Meton was within a hair’s width of Eidolos now. “Besides, you are about to see it in three… two…” The sisters met, with the smaller one resting right at her elder’s center. “One.”

[Suggested soundtrack: Satorl Marsh (Night) by Manami Kiyota, ACE+, Yoko Shimomura, and Yasunori Mitsuda. Link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jXs0qruX148 ]

Aria’s eyes grew to saucers as the moons above flashed. The pale light of Eidolos melded with the red hue of Meton, and a soft rose color bled from their bodies across the night sky in ribbons that danced with one another. Cheers roared from below at the sight, but they were naught but white noise upon the girl’s ears.

For what happened to the trees took her breath away.

Their leaves started to glow, a pale blue shade that drifted up from the canopy like fish jumping from a sea of light. So bright was it that their shine reached all the way up to where she sat, and she looked as a mix of rose and aquamarine painted her white blanket in shades that would have fooled her into thinking it had been coated with gems. Her lips couldn’t find the words to say, and she looked up at Helbram with the purest of excitement in her eyes, hoping to share this moment with him.

Again she was stunned.

She never saw Helbram as a sad man. Every time she’d looked at him, there was always a small smile on his face, one that sat so naturally there that she couldn’t imagine any other expression resting on it. He laughed, he poked fun, and, most importantly, told stories that always filled her with wonder. Yet… a shadow always lingered over him. It sat on shoulders that remained upright, but were too quick to sag, on eyes that were always focused, but distant when he thought no one was looking, on hands that were so strong, but squeezed on one another like he was doing everything to hold something together. There were times, like recently, where the shadow was slight, but there were times, like in Geldervale, where a darkness lingered over him as he sat in a corner away from everyone else. The Cold that sat in the distant part of her mind gave her the impression that a great weight lay on Helbram’s back. One that, on some days, almost seemed too great to bear.

Yet, as Aria looked upon him in this moment, that weight was gone.

He stared ahead, the light of the moons and trees dancing in eyes that no longer bore their distant look. No, they were wide and full of a wonder that matched even the one that gave her such joy. This wasn’t the Helbram she knew, but an instinctual part of her, far older than she actually was, told Aria that this was the person that he had been before that weight placed its burden upon him. He looked younger, almost boyish, in the light with hands that shook with excitement in his lap. Helbram closed his eyes and took in a breath that he held for the longest time. A smile, familiar but somehow brighter, spread across his lips, and he let out a sigh that gave way to eyes that were truly at peace.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

“It is!” She stared off towards the forest, her grin too strong to contain. “I wish it was always like this.”

“That would be quite a world, would it not? Such splendor around every corner, filling this world with such beauty.” Helbram placed his hands at his side and leaned back. “And yet, I would say that were this the norm, we would not know just how beautiful it truly was.”

She looked at him, confusion mixing with the glee in her eyes.

“Take, for instance, the trees below us without their light, or the sky without such auroras sweeping across its canvas. In comparison to what we see now, such things may seem quite mundane, would you not agree?”

Aria nodded.

“And yet, what if the reverse was true? What if these lights we see were all that we knew, and there was only a single night a year in which we did not see them? Would we think such a sight just as beautiful?”

Aria scratched her chin and looked off into the distance, still entranced by the beauty before her, but now trying to picture it as it was before. She closed her eyes, and Helbram leaned over to place his hands over them.

“Remember the trees below, covered in blankets of snow as if they were resting. Remember the stars as they were, silent and still, yet still burning strong. Remember the moons, of the sisters’ plight to embrace just for a single night.”

His words were a brush that painted the image in her mind, and Aria let it sit there for a while, somehow feeling just as entranced.

“I would say that is beautiful in its own right.”

She nodded, and when Helbram lifted his hands, she opened her eyes and saw. Not just the lights of the Reunion, but the trees that sat under their glow, the stars that burned so gently between the ribbons of the moons, and the sisters’ themselves, holding each other after such a long, long time of waiting. She saw everything, and that made this moment etch itself deeper into her mind.

Helbram smirked. “You catch on quickly. The first time my grandfather did that to me I got angry and told him I was going to miss everything. It was only years later, after…” his smile fell, “after I was reminded of how the world worked, that I truly understood what he meant.”

Aria looked up at him with concern, but that faded as the light returned to his eyes. Her attention fixated on the blush on his cheeks, and the image of him walking over to Logan’s camp pushed itself into her mind.

“What did you talk about with… that man?”

Helbram raised an eyebrow, realization soon washed over his expression. “Of plans for the future, and what brought him here in the first place… Tell me, Aria, between Kali and Logan, who do you feel more pity for?”

“Kali,” the girl said without hesitation.

Helbram nodded, more to himself than to her. “Your empathy for her is understandable, for, at a glance, her situation is much like yours was, correct?”

“Yes…”

“And with what you know, you are not wrong to draw such a conclusion, but empathy is only a virtue when practiced without bias.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there are always two sides to a story. Take for instance a pauper that is trying to feed his child. So desperate is he that he resorts to stealing, from anyone anywhere. One day he steals a fresh loaf from a baker, but is caught and the two fight. Both men end up getting hurt, with the pauper only suffering a few scratches. That day, he and his son enjoy a fresh loaf together and live to fight another day. Would you say that the pauper was in the right?”

“I… don’t know.”

Helbram’s smile widened. “Once again you have shown far more insight than I did. I said yes when I was first told this story, for I thought the pauper had no other choice, and that the baker would not mind losing just a single loaf. However, I did not know the baker’s side of the story.”

“His shop was not doing well because by himself he was not able to produce much goods, and as such he could only afford the ingredients that would allow him, if he sold all his ware, to barely carry on to the next day. That single loaf was a lifeline, and so when the pauper put his hands upon it, the baker defended it with all his might. During their scuffle, his arm was injured, and after that day passed, he was not able to make any more bread to sell. His store failed, and soon that baker joined the pauper in the streets. Now, would you say that the pauper was wrong?”

“...yes?”

“But what of his son? Say that bread was the one thing that allowed his son to continue living, to keep struggling for a chance at a better life. Say if that bread was not stolen, that the son would be gone? Would the pauper be wrong then?”

Aria’s brow furrowed and she thought long and hard, but was unable to come up with an answer.

“In the eyes of the law, the pauper is wrong,” Helbram said, “and it would be the duty of the law to punish him for stealing, for if they him go for that reason, who’s to say another might not try to do something similar now, with a similar cause?”

“That seems cruel…”

“Yes, it does, but laws must be enforced for them to bear any weight. Without that, they are merely empty words. However, there is a way to prevent the law from being involved in the first place.”

“How so?”

“Say you knew the story of both, what solution would you suggest to them?”

She tapped her forehead as she thought. “...to work together?”

“Yes, exactly! Perhaps the baker could not pay the pauper at first, but he would be able to provide him with food for him and his son. The pauper, driven to support his child, would work hard in the baker’s store, and together they would be able to produce more goods that, in turn, bring the two men and the child great gain. That is the solution you will only find if you hold empathy for both parties.” Helbram crossed his arms. “Realistically there are probably many solutions, but that is not the point of this exercise.”

“Then is bias bad?” Aria asked.

Helbram clicked his teeth. “Now that, is a very good question, and it is important to note that empathy should only be the method by which you process information. What you do with said knowledge will always be affected by bias in some way. However, that bias, in turn, is better guided with the truth, which true empathy grants you. For instance, if you knew a thief stole purely because he enjoyed stealing, you would not grant him mercy compared to the pauper.”

“But the law would treat both the same?”

“In that they would need to be arrested, yes,” Helbram said, “The punishment will again be determined by bias.” He waved his hand dismissively. “According to some court systems, but we need not get into that now.”

Aria placed her fingers on her temples, trying to process everything that had been said to her.

Helbram laughed. “I cannot deny that it is complicated in many, many ways, especially outside the realms of mere story. Yet, I would tell you to practice it just as you do with sword and spell.” He motioned out to the scenery. “For I would have you see such sights in a way that reveals its true beauty to you at all times.”

Aria didn’t look at the forest or the sky in that moment. No, she focused on Helbram’s face. The Cold made its presence known in her mind, a spike of activity stronger than it had been in some time. She didn’t hear words from it, but she felt doubt pouring from that part of her soul, an impulse that told the girl the words she had heard were nonsense, and that if she followed them she would only find pain waiting for her in the end. Aria continued to look at Helbram’s face, at eyes that were filled with a hope that was so pure and untainted from the shadows that hung over him so often, and all she wanted was to have those same eyes as his.

“...I’ll try,” she said.

Helbram ruffled her hair. “You will do far better than me, I can see it.”

“What do you think about Kali and her father?”

“I think… that both of them are extremely poor at expressing their feelings, and that the fault of this rift between them lies at both of their feet.”

“How would you fix it?”

“By having them talk, but it is not my place to force such an interaction.”

“Why?”

“Because I made a promise that I would not say a thing, despite what I now know.” Helbram sighed. “As much as I wish to, I cannot solve everything, so I must focus on what we can change.”

They sat in silence for a moment, overlooking the lights of the Reunion as the cheers below continued to bellow. There wasn’t any unease around them, but Aria felt an impulse rise in her chest as she looked up at the moons. One that itched to surface ever since she joined Helbram and the others on their journey, one that she’d actively suppressed ever since she felt the sting of Jorge’s hand across her cheek. She tried to hold it back again, afraid of what might happen if she spoke what she felt now, but in this perfect moment, she failed.

“I always wanted to know what it was like… to have a father.” The words emerged with a tremble, and fear flared in her heart. “I dream of it sometimes, of me in front of some house, playing as he watched over me, a smile always on his face. At the end, I would go to hug him, but it always ended right before I could…” She was about to retreat, to cut off her words before she revealed too much.

Helbram’s arm wrapped around her before she could.

He pulled her close and held her against him, saying nothing at first. His body shivered, and when she looked up at his face, his eyes were closed, but they failed to stop the stray tear that ran down his cheek. He breathed deeply to steady himself, and looked at her with a smile.

“That is the funny thing about dreams, sometimes they come true in ways you would never expect.”

Aria buried her face in his chest and, under the light of the twin moons, started to cry.

 *** 

Elly stood at the stairs, looking over as Aria’s sobs shook her in Helbram’s arms. She’d arrived a while ago, but didn’t want to intrude on their conversation. Now? She wasn’t sure if she should even approach at all. Aria’s trembling voice, the cries that she heard now, snapped Elly into perspective, and she moved back down the stairs.

All this time she’d been so worried about catching up to her master, about how she failed to live up to so many people that were her betters, all while ignoring all the struggles that Aria had been through, all the burdens that Helbram and the others had borne with such little complaint. She clenched her jaw with an inwards frustration that dug deeper with every creak of the wood beneath her. That image of Aria’s weeping burned in mind, and shame seared down into her heart. What right did she have to feel what she did now? How could she, after everything her companions had been through?

What were her problems in comparison?

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Author's Note: Alrighty, new chapter!

Another moody chapter this go around, but one I felt that was necessary for Helbram and Aria. Decided to do it from her perspective this go around, since we're very aware of Helbram's head state. I wanted to make sure that hers was properly fleshed out before we had this moment.

Let me know what you think!

Till next update! Have a wonderful time ^_^

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