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---

Hours of walking in the desert heat brought perspective. Unwanted, but maybe not unneeded. The power suits worn by PanTech soldiers were composed of multiple bulky sections, but the bulk didn’t come from poor design. The thing had its own environmental containment system. Kept you cool in the heat, and warm in the cold. It kept the body hydrated, sealed wounds, and even filtered body waste. A gross concept, but convenient for any mission. My armor, as this heat was reminding me, did very few of those things despite being more advanced. It filtered my sweat back into my body to keep me from dehydrating too quickly, but no built-in air conditioning.

It also stimulated optimal muscle use and protected me from damage. It would deflect virtually any blade and harden upon a sudden blunt impact. That wouldn’t stop my organs from being turned into soup if I was hit hard enough. A rifle carried by an Adversity Management soldier would do the trick.

I pulled my black ponytail tight, wiping the sweat from my dark skin, scanning the landscape with my narrow, brown eyes.

Would Mother be proud of me for taking better care of my hair than I did when I was a teenager?

Better yet, why was this thought even crossing my mind?

“You’re going in the right direction,” Ghost said, swooping down and landing next to me.

“What made you think I didn’t already know that?” I snapped, letting the heat get to me.

“Because you’ve been changing directions every few minutes. You aren’t focusing.”

“What?” I shouted. “You couldn’t have told me that earlier?”

“I assumed you knew what you were doing,” Ghost said, flying off again.

Just a few years was all it took, though I still wasn’t quite ready to admit it. It was much harder for me to keep my direction in the desert, distracted or not. Even with this suit helping a bit, I couldn’t handle the heat like I once could. Barely a day into this mission and I was already doubting myself.

It probably had more to do with coming home. This adversity zone, in particular, was the trouble. Too many memories. Many wounds that had barely closed. In a few moments, I’d be stepping into the market where Linus, the rebel PanTech soldier I’d fallen for, was gunned down by other PanTech soldiers. I still had the nightmares sometimes.

I wondered if the village chief had stopped terrorizing the young girls here, like Linus made him promise he would. Probably not.

As the market came into sight, it became abundantly clear this village had more than just a couple of soldiers guarding it. There was one stationed at the gate, though luckily he was distracted. I’d have to take a bit of a detour.

It was coming back to me now. The layout of the village naturally popped into my mind as I approached. A less-used alleyway a bit to the side. If a soldier was stationed there, I’d have to handle the problem directly.

I sighed at the thought, veering away from the village again until I was out of sight. Once I was confident I could no longer be seen, I sat down behind a large boulder.

Ghost flew down, staring at me quietly for a moment.

“What is it, Ghost?” I asked, drawing random characters in the sand below. “If you have any questions, just ask.”

“You decided it may be easier to sneak in during nightfall. There’s nothing to ask,” he said.

“You know, you could just ask me questions to make me feel better.”

“What questions make you feel better?”

I sighed, leaning my head against the hard surface, then growled in frustration. I looked over to Ghost, thankful he was holding together better than I was.

“I guess I just really don’t know what I’m doing, or if this is even something I can do. There are a lot of adversity zones, and this is the only one I’m actually familiar with. I grew up here, but I’m struggling already.”

“Human psychology is a strange concept to me. You appear to be stalling. Do you know why?”

“St-stalling?” I asked, the realization sinking in as soon as Ghost said it aloud. “Yeah… I guess I’m stalling. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Ghost asked. “This is your mission. I’m just accompanying you.”

“I think I’m just apologizing to no one in particular. Myself, maybe. I guess.” I picked up a small rock, drawing another animal in the sand before rubbing the image away violently with my hand and sighing. “If you want to hunt for a bit, I think I need some time to settle my mind down.”

Ghost tilted his head. “Are you sure you’re alright, Taylor?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’m sure it’ll be nice to hunt familiar prey again. I’m going to wait a couple of hours after dark before I sneak in. Maybe I’ll take a nap until then.”

Ghost hesitated a moment before flying off.

Maybe a nap is exactly what I need. I rested my head against the rock and almost instantly fell asleep.

***

I’d become a light sleeper. It seemed to be one of the side-effects of using an enhancer. Hyper-awareness of one’s surroundings, often involuntarily enhanced during sleep. With the older, more powerful, brain frying version, it wasn’t unusual to hear the wings of an insect flapping across the room. The sound of a person’s heartbeat before they were even close enough for a conversation. Yet, here it was a comfort, as my current observations confirmed.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep. A couple of minutes, or hours. I couldn’t sense Ghost, but the heartbeat of someone approaching quietly from behind. So quietly their steps were nearly silent, even as I strained my enhanced hearing to detect them.

Whether it was curiosity or animosity, I didn’t know, but they were clearly trying to be very quiet and sneak up on me. Without the enhancer, I’d have no idea they were approaching.

A sudden swish in the air told me an object was being swung toward me, and I reacted accordingly. Rolling forward, I drew Twisted Key and pivoted on the balls of my feet. This person didn’t wear a power suit. Pushing the enhancer again so soon it could be an issue, not to mention what would happen if I started to rely on it for every little thing.

A weapon shot forward again, and I sidestepped, spinning Twisted Key in an upward arc to deflect it. Using the opening, I charged forward, but the figure dashed back with astonishing speed. An enhancer?

No, not quite. This was a regular human, but very athletic. Maybe I’d need the enhancer after all, or maybe I could hold out for Ghost. He’d be back soon. Any moment.

I was careful to attack with the side of my sword. No need to cut the person into pieces if I could help it. A moment later, I realized I was being extended the same courtesy. A counterattack struck me in the arm, the impact being largely negated by my armor, still sending me stumbling.

A follow up attack came from the spear-like weapon. Eager to stop my attacker’s momentum, I caught the shaft of the spear under my arm, turning as I did and shoving my attacker off balance. However, they quickly released their own weapon and lunged forward. I had no choice but to release the spear, so it wouldn’t hinder my own strike.

But the figure rushed in too quickly, landing a fierce kick to my chest. Could this be…

No, it couldn’t be.

Could it?

I caught her wrist as she launched a blow toward my throat, twisting my hip and throwing her over my shoulder. To my surprise, she landed gracefully, wrapping her legs around my arm, grabbing it with her other hand, and pulling me to the ground in an arm bar. Had I not been wearing the armor I’d be in serious trouble. Sensing the hyper-extension of my elbow, the suit hardened and resisted the movement, effectively making it useless beyond restraint.

Seems I’d have to use the enhancer. Just a bit.

Shifting my weight forward, I quickly stood to my feet again, stepping my foot toward their throat. A woman.

Her reaction was quick, and she released my arm before trying a sweep. My legs didn’t buckle, again thanks to the suit.

A moment later, I could hear the subtle flapping of wings closing in.

“Ghost, wait!” I shouted, causing Ghost to veer off to the side at the last moment.

“Taylor?” the woman asked with a shaky voice, pulling the scarf down from her face.

“Good to see you again, Mother,” I said, smiling.

My mother stepped forward, saying nothing before pulling me into a tight embrace. I wanted to say something else, but the sound of her sobs cut me off.

“Welcome home,” she finally said.

“It’s good to be home,” I replied, no longer able to fight back my own tears.

---

Author Notes:

Thank you for reading Liberation Saga! If you have a moment to comment, I'd love to know what you think.

Be sure to check out my Patreon for early access chapters (with audio), access to my 20+ book self-published library, and more.

If you have a craving more stories from this universe, check out the PanTech Chronicles trilogy and the Detective Trigger series, both available on Amazon.

Thank you so much to everyone who supports me on Patreon. I wouldn't be able to do this without you!

Special Thanks: GGfacepalm, Shin, and Drunkenbiker

I write these chapters almost every weekday morning on Twitch. Come hang out with me sometime.

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Tobi and the Novas continued to train on Azuria and increase their knowledge of iko, along with their strength and techniques. They took turns switching with the other Novas, invading the Cerian Empire and protecting the Federation, during the next several weeks.

Beyond progressed with a path forward, securing a safe route for Earth and the other planets of the Federation through Cerian Space. In due time they came across the last habitual planet, at the end of their path. A planet, that looked to be recovering from a mass invasion. With abandoned cities, overtaken by nature and an incredibly small population of survivors, showing up on Saphyra's scans.

She immediately rushed to Sarah, with the news, hoping to confirm something. However, as she watched Sarah's eyes light up, she got her answer. The war-torn, ghost planet, was in fact Rennaya.

Such news made headlines across Earth and the rest of the Federation. A massive event was created, to help raise the declining morale and to showcase progress. Beyond, would be visiting Rennaya, and performing a late funeral for the people there.

Sarah also wanted to dig up, all of the ancient artifacts and records, the planet might have to offer. Within a couple of days, of the discovery, Saphyra had gathered together four million troops, commanded and protected by seven and a half million combat androids. Dozens of Aeromachs were loaded with hundreds of tanks and aircrafts, all ready to be deployed.

Osei & Kalista insisted on going. The Novas had noticed that the Rennayans were holding back their emotions and didn't break out of character. However, they knew, the images and drone videos, that Saphyra had shown them, tore them apart.

Saphyra was hesitant but decided to add them to the roster. She then picked Norah, Tai, and Helio to lead an expedition, on the Northern continent. Kiala, Jacira, and Nate were to lead another expedition to the Western continent and lastly, Kayed, Simon, and Carina were to travel to the Eastern continent.

As for Tobi and Osei, she allowed them to have the freedom to look into the city of Senae, within the Central continent. Kalista wanted to go alone, but since the Azurian royal family wanted to take part, Saphyra asked her to escort Kaieda and Yori along with her to her hometown.

Akio granted each of the teams, a few of his Hashin to tag along with them. For his family though he doubled the security. With the Azurian's help, Saphyra was now more confident that she could carry out this event with no problems.

Noon the following day...

One hundred and sixty Aeromachs, entered the Rennayan Solar System, making their way towards Rennaya. Only ten ships descended to the planet, the rest remained in orbit, securing the Solar System and conducting lighter expeditions on nearby planets and moons. They discovered old mining and research outposts on planets, moons, and asteroids that the Rennayans had set up. Using them for agriculture and inescapable prisons as well.

Tobi was a little excited to be learning a bit more about his roots. He loved visiting Nigeria with his family. Food back home was unlike anything else. With the sights and the culture, although he often felt a loss of cultural identity growing up so far away, visiting there always gave him a sense of home.

Now landing in Senae, after everything he had been told about, it all just felt surreal. Still, Tobi, knew better than to show his excitement, in front of Osei. Knowing his brother may still have some trauma, haunting him.

Sarah continued around them as usual. She had not been able to spend much time with them, after her transformation, but they didn't mind, just teased her a bit, and let her be. They always knew, that every one of the projects she worked on, and continued to work on, would positively impact Beyond's military strength in space.

"The other teams have their missions, but you two, including Kalista, are free to do whatever you want... After you get in first contact with the natives here..." She said as she watched them roll their eyes. "Just let them know, that we come in peace, please?"

They nodded, as two Hashin, split apart, following behind them, into the sky. Both, headed toward coordinates, Sarah had updated on their monitors. A light HUD display on their retinas, that could be shut on and off by thought.

Osei ignored his orders and went straight to the spot. The place he last saw his parents broadcasted. The feeling he had seeing, their skeletons still in place.

He broke down, while the Hashin watching him, knew immediately to give him his space. He began preparing a coffin to keep them in, as they would most likely transport them to the royal cemetery, near the Hallantium. Osei thanked the Hashin for giving him a hand.

Tobi landed on the outskirts of the city, near a forest. He wondered if he was in the right spot. As he flew through the city, he was surprised by the craftsmanship the people had. Remnants of fallen skyscrapers roamed the city, invaded and reclaimed by the environment.

He wished he could have seen what it was like, back in the day. The sound of twigs snapping caught his attention. He glanced around, looking deep into the forest, to try and find the source of the sound.

Pushing some leaves to the side, a young Rennayan woman around his age, made her way into the open. Staring him down.

Tobi slowly placed one hand on his chest, above his heart and bowed slightly, a familiar action in his culture back home. Osei had taught him, this was also a show of respect, to another fellow Rennayan.

"Hi, my name is Tobi, Commander of the Beyond Space Force. What is your name?" His comm, helped to translate the words out of his mouth, as he spoke.

The woman backed up slowly but replied while trying to hide the fear from her voice. "Are you a child of Atlas?" She asked, wary.

Tobi, shook his head, wondering what would make her think that, yet she continued. "Are you a slave of the Cerian Empire?"

Tobi shook his head once more. "No, I am not affiliated with the Cerian Empire. I'm from Earth, a planet far off in space. Way too far to imagine, but somehow I found out, that I might also have come from here." As he said that, he calmly reached his hand out, with his palm facing up.

Pebbles crashed together forming a tiny sphere, followed by a ball of fire manifesting, then an orb of electricity, all orbiting around a sphere of telekinetic force, cracking up air in the middle. Last, ice manifested, joining the mix and leaving the girl astonished.

"It can't be... you are..." She stuttered, then dropped to her knees, shocked.

Tobi stopped what he was doing to help, her up. As he did, she grabbed hold of him and asked with sincere eyes. "Please help us! Our doctor is sick."

He thought about it for a second, then agreed. Moments later the woman rushed him, to her village. Deep within the forest. He expected to come across makeshift huts and salvaged garbage from the city. He was half right.

The woman had introduced herself, to him as Jelani. She had a dark complexion and wore ragged old clothes. She was around 5'9, with beautiful blue eyes, that had seen, enough stress in her life. Yet she carried on with the strength of a lion.

She brought him to a door of an underground bunker. Branches and leaves camouflaged it. Jelani walked up and brushed some aside, revealing a hi-tech touchpad. She tapped several buttons, then stepped back, as a door, revealed itself shimmering as nanites parted parted ways.

A small elevator took them down, with an open view of the entire bunker, leaving Tobi speechless. The interior of the bunker was massive, housing at least one hundred and fifty people with a capacity of tens of thousands.

The people seemed depressed, Tobi thought, as they got closer to a makeshift gate. Two Rennayan men stood firm, as guards.

"Who is that with you Jelani? He is not from around here." One of them asked, in a deep tone.

Jaleni frowned. "What's it to you, Remi? He's my guest. We're in a hurry, so let me through."

She started to walk through the gate, but the other guard grabbed her up, restraining her, as the other one stepped up to Tobi. However, In one swift motion, a large golem made up of ice, manifested, grabbing hold of the guard's leg, holding Jelani and lifted him up.

He dropped her yelling out, as a second golem caught her. Embarrassed, he began punching the golem, with fists covered in stones, telling it, to let him down.

At the same time, Tobi sidestepped Remi's reach with fire at his heels, then grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back, as he moulded cuffs out of stone and metal to keep him still.

People started to gather, while Jelani was let down. "Did he just use...?"

"It's not possible..." The people murmured.

Tobi looked down at Remi. "Listen, when people are talking to you. I was invited here on an urgent task. I apologize for doing this, but I do not have time to go through the right procedures right now."

He gave the man a smile, although he knew he wasn't getting one back. "I promise I will be back."

Tobi started to leave, as Jelani watched Remi, get up slowly with his hands still cuffed behind his back. She called out after Tobi, but it was too late, both of the guards had freed themselves, gathering their utmost strength to take on the monster that had just walked past them.

Tobi continued walking without care. With his next step though, a trail of ice, raced out from under his sole, freezing the two lunging at him. Then a titanium and diamond cage swallowed them up and rose, as a tower to the ceiling of the bunker, keeping them prisoner.

He turned his head towards Jelani, who was shocked by what she had just witnessed. She grew up with Remi and the other guard. They were one of the toughest in the village. She couldn't imagine them losing so easily.

"Are you coming? Don't worry about them. They just need to cool their heads a bit." Tobi said, as he continued walking.

Jelani looked up at the imprisoned guards once more, then turned around to lead the way. Pausing as their path was laden with people kneeling and murmuring to themselves. Some of the elders had tears flowing, thanking God for what they had just witnessed.

Tobi was a bit puzzled, but he could tell, they were doing this for him. Jelani looked back, seeing his confused expression. "What do you expect? The legendary Rennayan was only supposed to be a legend or a fairy tale. Showing off your abilities like that only gives them hope."

She grabbed his hand, rushing him forward. "Come on! We have to hurry!"

They stopped in front of one of the largest mobile units, the size of a single home. It looked ancient but was more held together than the rest of the units. Which spread around in a circle, with the large headquarters in the center. Storing their security monitors and warning devices, that helped the survivors keep tabs on the outside. The headquarters also contained a large elevator, behind it, to help bring or evacuate the masses.

Jelani had told Tobi, as much as she could, on the way over to the clinic. He noticed many tents set up outside of it.

He could hear the sound of painful coughs, and feel the pain that the people were suffering from. He made a protective ice mask, to filter the air, he was breathing, realizing, that there was an outbreak in the bunker.

He followed Jelani, into the clinic, as she made her way toward a large room. Passing by more sick people, waiting for their end.

On a small bed, laid a middle-aged woman, weak and holding on to life, as best as she could. Tobi walked up to her, while Jelani, rushed to her side, whispering to her.

One look at her and Tobi knew she wasn't going to make it past the next few days, possibly even the next morning. He approached slowly as Jelani, glanced back, crying. "Please, is there anything you can do?" She asked, desperately.

Tobi was unsure, he had never practiced his medical abilities, as often as Helio and Nur, so he didn't know the extent of what he could heal. Sarah had often had them partake in volunteer missions, in impoverished countries. Healing as many of those, suffering from diseases, wounds, and ailments.

He placed one hand over her stomach, summoning forth, the sickness, weakening her by isolating the areas affected with ice. However, it backfired, spreading itself further and putting the host through much more pain.

The woman screamed out, as a nurse rushed in, while Jelani held onto the woman's hand. Tobi, felt, the weight of another's life, in his hands, something, he'd been feeling too often lately. He knew he couldn't mess this up.

He burst into second gear, limiting his energy outpour to himself, to avoid hurting those around him. He concentrated on his patient. Isolating the infected areas and deleting the cells slowly, while accelerating new cell growth. It strained him, but after five minutes, he was able to replace all of her infected cells, with healthy ones.

The woman stopped convulsing, as she slept, at peace. The nurse and Jelani rushed to the woman's side, checking her vitals and status. However, Tobi knew, as he turned around to focus his attention on the remaining patients in the clinic, that she would be alright.

Ice golems, shaped like Tobi, manifested in front of the majority of them, powered by a flaming core and scaring people throughout the hospital. Regardless, they quickly dropped their guards, when a warm euphoric feeling, soothed them.

"Frost: Elixir of Life," Tobi whispered, then dropped to one knee, as he began to suffer side effects. Each breath he took, was followed by mist and vapor. His body started to shiver, as frost began spreading all across his body.

Jelani turned to thank him but stopped when she noticed what was happening to him. "Tobi! Are you alright?!"

Tobi winced, from cold stings, but continued to reach for his belt. He retrieved a booster and injected himself with it.

Then, stood up, recovering himself from the frost taking over his body. At the same time, a man around his height crashed through the room, followed by several guards and patients, looking much better and watching behind them.

"Jelani! Nia! Are you alright?" The man asked, frantic, and wary of the strange man in the room, with his loved ones.

Jelani gleamed at the man, with tears, and a trembling smile. "Poppa, we're alright. Mom's well again."

Tobi was a little surprised, that the doctor, was her mother, but he surmised a little that she was a relative or someone really important to Jelani. He made way for the man to check on his wife.

As he passed by, Tobi noticed immense stress, wearing the man down, way beyond his years. With grey streaks invading his hair and beard, accompanied with baggy eyes, from sleepless nights.

The man cried out, seeing his wife sleeping soundly, while the nurse confirmed her good health. He turned around and faced Tobi, then looked down at the ground. "First, you have my utmost gratitude, for saving the mother of my child. Second, your resemblance... May I ask..."

Tobi sighed, nodding. "I guess, I should introduce myself. My name is Tobi of Earth, but I also hail from Rennaya, as the son of Zenu and Safiyah." The room went silent, as he uttered those words.

"How?"

"It can't be possible."

"I thought the royal family perished."

Were all the murmurs and whispers echoing across the room. Then there was some outrage and people asking for help.

"Why couldn't you save us."

"What took you guys so long?"

"Please take my child with you."

Tobi was about to speak up, but Jelani's father shut them all down. "Silence!" In an instant, there was pin-drop silence.

The man commanded the respect of the entire room. Then he got down on his knees with his head low.

"I am the Chief of Inami village, Belo. Forgive me, before founding this village in this abandoned bunker, I deserted from the royal army. Running to save the lives of my family. There are many soldiers, like me, who regretted not dying with your father that day. As we watched, him and your mother fight their last battle, on the sky-screens."

Tobi could feel, the amount of guilt, this man was carrying with him. He wanted to try and ease the burden, just a little bit. "Raise your head, Belo, was it?"

He gave the man a heartfelt smile and extended his hand to help him up. "You have long been forgiven. You've done nothing wrong. Instead, you should be rewarded, for keeping the last of our kin alive here, for over two decades."

Tobi, looked around the room, as more people poured in, and some watched through the windows. "I'm sorry I'm late. I was born without the knowledge of my heritage. My brother Osei had been captured by Atlas, until about earlier this year. Now, we're back. We are here to give you a hand and get you out of here. These are not the conditions, any of you should be living in!"

He took a deep breath before continuing. "It won't, be easy and I'll need all of your help. But together, we can change your future."

Cheers of joy and smiles of relief rippled through the room. Tears kept dropping, uncontrollably. Tobi turned back to Belo, who was astounded, by his captivating words. "You are the last prince." The Chief whispered.

Tobi, chuckled, scratching his head. "What's that? Nah, I'm not a prince, just a regular citizen in my world. I even had to work and everything."

Belo shook his head laughing. "A member of the royal family working a regular job. That can't be!"

Tobi laughed slyly, thinking about all the bills that plagued his life, before he met Osei. If only he knew, he was due some gold.

Belo, looked at him, once more, then nodded. "If you have barely heard of your heritage, then I think there is something, you must see. If your brother is here, he must have been too young as well. Call him to meet us."

Tobi was curious about what the man, had in mind, but he did as he was told. Moments later, he, Belo, and Jelani were flying towards the Hallantium, watching Osei, from the opposite end, shoot across the sky towards it.

Belo and Jelani dropped to their knees out of respect when they saw Osei. "At ease, you may rise." He said, smiling at them. It had been some time since he had seen the manners of his people. "So what is all of this about?"

Tobi turned back to the Chief and raised his hand out. "Well..."

Belo nodded, stepping up. "Below the Hallantium, lies the treasure of our people..."

Note:

HUD stands for a heads-up display.

The Hallantium was the royal palace introduced in Chapter 1. A palace 300 feet tall and built by Messians as a peace offering to commemorate the end of the First Galactic War. It was filled with the treasures, records and achievements of the people.

This chapter marks the beginning of the last arc in Volume 1

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Craig

“Craig? Where are you, Craig?”

He heard his mom calling him from the front yard. He knew she’d be sticking her head out the front door any moment now. And if she saw him out here, well that would be all she wrote.

Literally, sometimes.

The last thing he wanted was for his mom to catch him out front when he was supposed to be doing whatever it was she just told him to do. He couldn’t remember. Sometimes it felt like everything went in one ear and out the other.

He wasn’t sure if that was because he’d gotten really good at ignoring her, or if there was something else going on there.

It was the same feeling he got whenever he was trying to do an assignment for school. Reading the same paragraph over and over, and only getting more and more frustrated knowing he should be able to absorb this shit, but he couldn’t.

He wished he was tossing a football around right now. He’d just gotten home from practice a little while ago. It would be nice to have some down time when he got home, but of course his mom would never have that. Not when there were chores to do.

It didn’t help that Coach had been all sorts of intense with him at practice today. He was excited at the opportunity, terrified at the pressure being put on him, and guilty because he knew the only reason he got this opportunity was because somebody had torn Brad and Carrie to shreds.

At least that was the story he heard. He wasn’t quite sure he believed that. Sure there were all the stories of the Beast that had been going around for as long as he could remember, but it seemed like every time somebody died it got attributed to the Beast.

Little old lady had a heart attack late last night? The Beast clearly walked past her window and gave her that heart attack. Someone had their lungs ripped out while they were waiting outside the Chinese restaurant to get some beef chow mein? Totally the Beast.

Okay. So that last one sounded like the kind of thing that would be the Beast. Not that he thought that one had actually happened. Still. The point was everybody blamed everything on that monster, and he was pretty sure it was just an urban legend.

There was a fancy word he’d learned from Josh.

Speaking of. Already he was wishing he hadn’t invited Josh over, for all that it would be a reprieve from his mom. Only it was tradition. It wasn’t like he was going to abandon his friend. Not when they only had a month and some change before school started.

Still. Better to do it on a Saturday. He didn’t have as much to do on a Saturday. He didn’t have the twitches in his muscles as he remembered everything from practice, for all that he’d have to go straight to practice the next day.

Yet another reason why it was better for Josh to come over on a Saturday night. He didn’t have practice the next day. The Lord’s day was the one day of the week Coach thought was sacrosanct.

Only Josh was weird about coming over on Saturdays. Probably because he had to go to church with them the next day. Which wasn’t something Craig could blame him for.

He wished he could get out of going to church. He almost wished Coach would have practices on Sundays. That would be the one thing that would get him a pass from church. Maybe.

Jesus was number one in his mom’s book, sure, but it was a question of whether it was Jesus or football as far as his dad was concerned.

“Craig? Where are you, young man!”

He looked around. There was just the one street that ran down to the end of their cul-de-sac. There was the wider neighborhood off in the distance in the other direction, but he wouldn’t be able to get down there in time to avoid whatever it was his mom wanted.

Was it taking out the trash? Was he supposed to take something out of the laundry? He couldn’t remember, and he knew he’d catch hell for not remembering what she wanted him to do as much as he’d catch hell for not doing it in the first place.

So instead he ducked around the side of the house. He glanced in his bedroom window for a moment, peering through the thin crack.

His dad liked to keep the blinds closed during the day. He was always going on about how he wasn’t paying to air condition the sunlight streaming in through the windows, but Craig always tried to leave at least a small sliver open.

The better to look in through that window and make sure his parents weren’t in his room looking through his stuff. He knew a spot inspection could happen any time. Which was why he’d learned to hide his good stuff.

And why he always left his blinds cracked open just a little so he could look at what they were doing without them knowing he could see what they were doing.

There was nobody in there right now. He froze as he thought he heard the front door open. Almost as though she could sense he was outside trying to avoid her. There were times when he thought his mother had a tracking device on him or something. Like the kind of thing you saw in the movies.

Only those things were always really big, and he didn’t think she had some futuristic thing that could be used to track him.

He froze, his fight or flight response going into staying as still as possible. It irritated him that he reacted like this whenever he was worried about his mom catching him, but he also knew the slightest hint of a noise would be enough to have her turn around the side of the house so she could lay into him.

He really didn’t want to have another incident where he could see the curtains and blinds moving ever so slightly on all the other houses on their cul-de-sac. That let him know everybody else was watching. Probably enjoying the show.

Craig shivered. The last thing he wanted was to give the neighbors a show. So he held still, worried she might decide to come around the side of the house anyway.

Then again, the woman could be surprisingly lazy. As lazy as she was overwhelmingly sweet whenever he had someone over. Which was another reason he was always sure to invite Josh over on the weekends, for all that another part of him didn’t want to bother with it.

She transformed into the kind of mom anybody would be lucky to have when there was company over. Not so much any other time.

“Craig! Where have you gotten to?”

The voice was syrupy sweet now. Oh yes. It was always syrupy sweet when she thought somebody might be listening in. Except for the times when she let the anger get the best of her, and then there were those shifting blinds. Those curtains moving.

Everybody watching. Everybody knowing. Everybody tsking and talking about how horrible it was that Craig had pushed his dear sweet mother over the edge, and why couldn’t he try to be a better son? Why did he have to always make things so difficult for his poor long-suffering mother?

He shook his head. The front door slammed. He waited for the space of another couple of breaths, wondering if it was a trap. If she was going to come around the side of the house anyway.

That didn’t happen. He thought he heard somebody moving through the house. She’d be over in the garage now, if she kept to her usual search pattern. He had no intention of letting her know he wasn’t in the house.

He ducked low as he went along the fence. There was a time when it was easier to duck low and avoid being seen. Now he was so big that he felt ridiculous trying to hide, but some concealment was better than none.

He glanced over to Mrs. Miller’s house, but he didn’t see her staring out the sliding glass door on the back of her house. She did that sometimes when she heard his mom looking for him, but she’d never ratted him out.

She’d also never done anything about it. Never said anything to his mom. Never said anything to anyone who could help. So he was ambivalent about Mrs. Miller.

She didn’t matter anyway. She wouldn’t rat him out even if she was looking. Which she wasn’t. He could make his escape. Maybe.

If he just stayed out of the house long enough for Josh to get there everything would be okay. His mom would be that syrupy sweet woman inside the house and outside, and if he was lucky she’d forget whatever it was she was upset about right now.

She’d tell him he forgot to take the laundry out of the washer and put it into the dryer with a smile and a glance to Josh and a tightness around her eyes, and everything would be fine. Maybe.

There’d been times when she remembered to yell at him after Josh went home, after all.

“Just a few more years,” he muttered to himself. “A few more years and you’re out of here.”

Realistically getting out of here looked like joining the army or something like that. Be all that he could be. Sure there was always a part of him that fantasized about getting a college scholarship. He’d heard of schools where they put a rubber stamp on your degree as long as you were good at football.

He figured he needed one of those schools. After all, it’s not like he was going to get a college degree with his academic skills. Josh was the one who was always good at that book learning shit.

He reached the back of the fence line and paused to look back at the house. A part of him was terrified of looking back. As though that would somehow summon his mother.

He imagined seeing her face staring out the back window at him. Or maybe through the kitchen window. It would be every bit as terrifying as catching a glimpse of the Beast who he never really believed existed, for all that there were all those rumors.

That hadn’t stopped his dad from yelling at him about being a pussy when he was little and came into their room afraid. Yelling about how he needed to toughen up and stop jumping at shadows. Be a real man. Like him.

Craig shivered as he opened the gate behind the house, oh so slowly to keep it from creaking, and moved into the cornfield beyond. He slipped in between the stalks that only came up to about his waist and breathed a sigh of relief.

She wouldn’t come after him out here. There’d been a time when he’d been terrified of this place. When he’d been small enough that a run in with a coyote might’ve been dangerous. Or, more realistically, a run in with one of the coydogs that bred with the coyotes and didn’t have a fear of humans.

He wasn’t afraid of any of that shit now. Let a pack of the little yipping fuckers come at him. He’d smash them.

He felt like smashing something. There was an anger building inside him. An anger that was always there when he had to deal with his parents.

Of course dealing with his mom was better than dealing with his dad.

He shivered again. He could hear the old asshole now. Though he’d been a whole hell of a lot more tolerable since Craig started doing football. Especially after he got the quarterback position.

The old man had been bragging about it all over town. Which got some odd looks since everyone knew the only reason Craig was getting that chance as a junior was because Brad had been ripped to pieces.

“Nobody in town can stand that asshole,” he muttered.

He looked up to the sky above. He could still see over the cornstalks. There was a time when they would’ve been coming up almost to his head at this time of year, but a few big growth spurts had taken care of that.

To be honest those growth spurts had probably done more for keeping his dad’s hands off him than playing football, for that matter.

He felt at home here now. The field had gone from being a place where he was afraid to a place where he knew he’d be safe because neither one of his parents would bother to come after him out here.

Sure they’d be waiting with disapproval when he eventually decided to come home, but whatever.

He started walking. He figured Josh would want to come out here later tonight. He smiled as he thought of the spears they’d made. That had been fun. An excuse to get out of the house and go hang out with Josh’s crazy Uncle Cody for a little while. And the man really was crazy.

There were times when he looked at that spear resting on the special stand they’d created for them and thought about how he could grab that when his dad was yelling at him and…

He pushed those thoughts down. He might be angry, but that was a terrifying thought. He didn’t know where it came from, and he smashed down on it as aggressively as he wanted to smash down on a coydog’s head right about now.

He kept walking. He glanced at his watch. He still had a little while until Josh was supposed to be over.

He lost track of time as he walked. He usually did when he was lost in his thoughts and feeling sorry for himself.

Eventually he found himself at the small woods on the other side of the cornfield. The countryside was dotted with small little woods that farmers kept around because they marked a property boundary, or they covered a train track that ran through somebody’s property, or there was a river or creek that couldn’t be diverted.

There were a lot of reasons why the trees might’ve survived being on prime farmland. There were times when he felt like somebody could move across the entire county by sticking to those wooded areas, though he wasn’t sure how realistic that was.

He looked up at those trees now. They were more than familiar to him. He’d been in here plenty of times playing with Josh. Sure that kind of shit seemed a little silly now, but whatever. It was fun.

Even if Josh was always going on about elves and other bullshit like that. The kind of stuff he never would’ve been interested in himself, but Josh was fascinated by that shit, and always made it seem fun.
He stopped and looked at the woods. Then he looked up to the skies again. It was starting to get dark, but it was still mid-July. That meant it wouldn’t be getting too dark too early.

Then he turned and looked off in the distance, and frowned again. Because the moon was hanging there. It seemed to call to him as he stared up at it. His mouth fell open and he took a step towards it, then thought about how ridiculous that was.

It’s not like he could walk to the moon. No, he’d have to get on a rocket or something, and they’d stopped sending rockets to the moon a few years before he was born.

He thought he heard something snap, and he turned to look at the trees. It was thick enough in the little woods that it was hard to see too far. There were some really big trees in there. Like the kind of stuff that made him think this maybe went back to the days when Indians had roamed the land.

He’d found arrowheads in there a couple of times. Josh always got really excited about that. Hell, he always got really excited about it. Even if his dad told him it was stupid for him to get excited about a bunch of “Injun bullshit.”

Which felt vaguely wrong to him, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Probably because if his old man was saying it then he was being an asshole about something.

His head moved on a swivel, searching for the source of that snap. He wasn’t afraid so much as he was curious. He was a big guy, after all. He figured he could handle anything that came at him.

“Hello?” he called out.

There was no response.

He did feel a tingle on the back of his neck. He thought about how Brad and Carrie bought the big one.

The stories said they’d been torn to pieces. That the inside of Brad’s ancient boat of a car had been coated with blood.

He wasn’t sure how much he believed that. Most of it was small town gossip, and he knew talk was cheap. That people loved to play the telephone game where they tried to make things sound way more horrible than they were in reality.

Still…

“Is anyone out there?” he called out.

Which was ridiculous. It had to be an animal of some sort. Maybe a bobcat. Maybe a coyote. It’s not like there was anything out there that could actually hurt him.

Even all that shit about the Beast was probably a cover-up. That’s what Coach said, at least. The local cops couldn’t handle some serial killer or something who’d been stalking the county for decades, and so they made up a bunch of bullshit about a fucking monster that ripped people’s lungs out for fun to cover up their incompetence.

Yeah. That sounded a whole hell of a lot more likely than some monster roaming the countryside killing people.

There was no more sound. No sound at all. Not from insects. Not from animals. Not from anything.

That had the tingling on the back of his neck going all over again. He backed away. Back into the corn. Though as he did so he never took his eyes off the woods. He was backed up a good twenty feet or so before he lost that prickling sensation on the back of his neck.

He waited for another moment, wondering if there was really something out there or if it was just his imagination. But then slowly the insects started chattering again. Making the same noises that had been the backdrop to every good night of his childhood.

He chuckled, wondering why he was jumping at shadows. Probably because of practice and Coach yelling about how Brad could’ve done it better, which inevitably led to thoughts of what had happened to Brad and wondering how much of that was the truth, and how much of it was small town bullshit.

He shrugged, then turned and made his way back towards the house. It was a little darker overhead, but still not quite twilight.

Though as he turned and looked back towards the trees he had that strange feeling again. The same as when he looked at the moon. Like there was something back there calling to him. Something that sent a shiver running through him.

And not necessarily a bad shiver.

He turned and made his way back to the house. Where he could hear his mom calling. Like she was pissed off that he’d disappeared. It was almost enough to make him turn back to the scary woods. Running into the Beast might be preferable to getting into it with his mom.

But then he heard something else that made him feel better. The unmistakable sound of a station wagon engine revving.

Josh was here. Which meant whatever his mom was pissed off about, it would have to wait until tomorrow after football practice. And maybe that would be enough time that she forgot whatever the fuck it was she was mad about.

If he was lucky. He wasn’t always that lucky, after all.

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Chapter 36

Subject: Rear Admiral Fredrick Kennedy

Species: Knuknu

Description: Avian humanoid, non-prehensile tail. 5'10" (1.7 m) avg height. 84 lbs (38 kg) avg weight. 342 year life expectancy.

Ship: USSS Gaping Maw

Location: Unknown

​

"Exiting warp, sir," Captain Blavro said.

I clacked my beak in acknowledgement. Then I realized that an alumari might not know that expression, so I nodded as well. It's somewhat amusing that human body language is much closer to universal than any other species in the United Systems. This is likely due to the nature and frequency of their social interactions with the aforementioned other species. Most people meet a dozen or so humans before they get a chance to meet a member of any other species. Hell, for me it was hundreds.

"We're out of warp, admiral," Blavro reported.

"And we're being hailed," Commander Stevens added. "It's the USSS Alikonuoro, sir."

"Put them on," I replied with another nod.

"Aye, sir."

Stevens set about the task at hand, and a moment later an alumari in a well-decorated uniform was on my screen.

"I hope you're faring well despite your current circumstances, Rear Admiral Tlokix. How was the hunt?" I asked.

"Frustatingly short, Rear Admiral," he clicked his mandibles, probably to indicate frustration. "Thank you for taking over for us. A bad batch of wires completely disabled our... Mega MAC? Super MAC? What are they calling it again?"

"Ultra-MAC, if I recall correctly," I scrunched my eyes to indicate amusement.

"Oh, yes, that's right. Well, our Ultra-MAC is dead with a hot tube. And within that hot tube is a live A1 warhead."

"Quite the predicament."

"Indeed. Once again, thanks for taking over for us. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back and get my people off this bomb."

"Understandable. I hope to see you again soon, Tlokix."

"Likewise, Kennedy. Render them asunder for me."

The transmission terminated, and I breathed a small sigh of gratitude that the commander of the Alikonuoro was someone I knew. It saved me from having to explain my human surname. Despite the inappropriateness of the question, people seemingly cannot help but be curious.

My biological parents abandoned me when I was born, and I was lucky enough to be adopted by William and Lacy Kennedy while I was still an infant. They were from an influential Martian family, and not all of the family was happy about my parent's choice to adopt outside of their species. My mom and dad did their best to keep me insulated from the racism, but the snide remarks and passive aggression of the wealthy are difficult things to combat without actual combat. My father ended up having to punch quite a few uncles before I was old enough to do it myself.

Though I grew up around humans, I had always found myself fascinated with knuknu culture. Or rather, my heritage. I was so far removed from it that it felt foreign to me. This gave me something like an identity crisis, so when I was old enough to strike out on my own I bid my mother and father farewell and took up residence on Yons, the knuknu cradle-world. Even though the cost of living there is higher than the galactic average, I lasted a couple of decades before having to move somewhere cheaper.

The knuknus were polite, but they didn't see me as one of their own. No matter how hard I tried to imitate their behaviors and customs to fit in, my name gave me away as an outsider. Regardless of where I went, I was treated as a tourist rather than the long lost son I had fantasized about being.

I moved from colony to colony for a while, somewhat lost with what to do with my life. I returned to Mars to be with my parents during their final years, and a discussion with my father convinced me to become an officer in the United Systems military. After my parent's funeral, I did just that and finally found the place where I fit in. For the most part.

"Form up with the USSS Tip of the Tip," I ordered.

"God, what's up with these names?" Stevens asked.

"What do you mean?" Blavro asked as he began moving the ship.

"It's a genitalia pun," I answered. "Specifically pertaining to human and gont anatomy. This fleet was built very quickly, so the censors obviously weren't able to catch everything. The engineers saw an opportunity and they took it."

"Oh," Blavro replied.

"Yeah. It's gross," Stevens muttered.

I shrugged at him. The antics of the engineers are not my problem unless they directly interfere with my duties. The ship names don't impact my ability to command, so I don't care about them in the slightest. What concerns me is what happened to Tlokix's dreadnought, the USSS Alikonuoro. The United Systems has a good track record with ship builds, and bad wiring is a very rare occurrence. I only hope that something like that doesn't happen to the Gaping Maw.

"In position, sir," Blavro reported. "The replacement for the USSS Tempest has arrived, as well."

"What's its name?" Stevens asked.

"The USSS Carnage."

"Finally, a good name. I swear, if I ever fi-"

"Enough about the names," I interrupted. "Blavro, prepare for warp and engage when we get the order."

"Aye aye, sir," Blavro said.

I watched the Faster Than Light Drive indicator begin to fill, and was once again stricken by how slowly it charged. Slower than any other ship that I'd been on. Of course, this is also the largest ship I had ever been on. Much larger than the USSS Trigoravor {claw's point}, the battleship that until recently I had commanded. My crew had been almost entirely knuknu, with the exception of some gont in engineering and humans in the mess.

Then I was voluntold to command a dreadnought. At first I was somewhat excited, the USSS Nidhogg is legendary and to command it is considered an honor. Once we got moving, I realized how slow and clunky it is compared to the rest of our ships, and my excitement dulled immensely. Might as well be commanding a heavily armed tug. A good portion of the tactics that I have learned simply cannot apply to a vessel this unwieldy.

The only tactic that seems applicable is to sit there and trade blows, blasting one's thrusters now and again to try to take the enemy fire in a less damaging area. Even the Ultra-MAC is ridiculously slow. They've managed to get the charge time down to fifty seconds, but that's a long time during a fight. Might as well be an eternity.

"Entering warp, sir," Blavro said.

"Good, once we exit warp begin charging the Ultra-MAC. Gain a firing solution after, I say again, after you start charging the cannon. No need to add additional time to the charging cycle."

"Aye, sir," Commander Horvu said.

Horvu is the first gont that I'd ever seen serving on a bridge. Thus far, I find him quite agreeable, but a little standoffish. He's good at his job and doesn't engage in idle chatter, which I can respect. Many of the crew seem to believe he doesn't like socializing, but it's possible that he's just shy. I haven't heard of him insulting anyone or starting fights.

Commander Horvu also appears to be unaffected by pre-battle jitters. The rest of the crew, however, were fidgeting, obviously nervous about what's to come. Blavro was rubbing his carapace, Stevens was softly tapping his foot, and I even caught myself absentmindedly straightening the feathers on my arms. With the exception of the damaged dreadnoughts, the assault had gone well so far. Too well, in fact. A superstitious mind would claim that our fortunes were bound to change at any moment.

"Leaving warp," Blavro reported.

Our shield indicator began dropping the moment we exited warp. This was expected, but I still had to fight a flinch. Omega had warned us that the OU had managed to upgrade their sensors, either from their invasion of Sol or from an as yet undiscovered species somewhere in the Milky Way.

"Well, Captain Blavro, it's your time to shine," I said. "Begin evasive maneuvers, but keep the Ultra-MAC on target."

"Aye aye, sir."

"Stevens, keep an eye on nearby enemy ships. I'd like to avoid the fate of the Tempest, if possible."

"Aye, sir."

"Horvu, fire when ready."

"Aye, sir."

Orders given, I sat back and watched the casualty count begin to rise. The Republic had lost the most ships so far, but the Dtiln Collective had lost the highest percentage of their forces. Neither the US nor the Pwanti had lost any ships yet, which caused some confusion for me. It made some semblance of sense for the Pwanti to have avoided destruction, their ships are light and nimble. Conversely, our ships are bulky and usually need to warp to dodge incoming fire.

I opened some sensor logs to investigate further, and what I found made me chuckle. The Omni-Union were targeting ships based on tonnage. Their battleships were targeting our battleships, their cruisers were targeting our carriers, and so on. Absolutely awful matchups, but they make sense in a way. I would have ignored the battleships and carriers and entirely focused on the destroyers and frigates, but I'm not about to tell them that. One shouldn't correct an enemy when they're making a mistake.

The only weapons on the battlefield that could easily destroy our battleships and carriers were currently occupied with trying to kill our dreadnoughts. Our target was currently focusing its fire on the USSS Triguard, which had replaced the Tempest. At first it had spread its fire among the three of us, but I guess it's smart enough to have realized that's not going to work. The MPP's tactic seemed to be working, because the Triguard was losing shields at an alarming rate.

"Command requests that we aid the USSS Triguard," Stevens informed me.

"Blavro, get us in shield formation with the Triguard while maintaining our firing solution," I ordered.

"Aye aye, sir."

It was a good call by command. Our shields aren't nearly as damaged as the Triguard's, and judging by the rate of deterioration we'll be able to survive the onslaught long enough to kill the Mobile Prime Platform. Probably. It's a tad risky for us, but the longer our dreadnoughts last the more damage we can do to the Omni-Union.

Our shield indicator immediately began to drop as we took position in front of the Triguard. Commander Horvu was already using our standard MACs to target the MPP's cannons, and the other two dreadnoughts were doing the same. Not quickly enough to make much difference, though. I was watching our shields so closely that I almost missed the Ultra-MAC's charge cycle finishing.

"Firing," Horvu said.

The ship shook ever so slightly, and the tac-map tracked the shell as it left our cannon and made its way toward the MPP. I held my breath as our shield indicator dropped down to less than a quarter of its capacity. Come on... Almost there...

The shell hit, but we weren't clear yet. The MPP continued firing, and I gripped the arms of my chair as our shield indicator dropped even lower. Just before our shield popped, the A1 package within the shell exploded and the MPP finally ceased activity.

"YES!" I shouted.

Various cheers rang throughout the bridge. We had killed our first Mobile Prime Platform, without taking any hull damage in return. Commander Horvu, ever the stoic, gave a small smile and nod at our accomplishment and went right back to his tasks.

"Okay, okay," I said, holding up my hands to calm my crew. "We got our first taste of victory. Let's not let it get to our heads. It's time for clean-up. Horvu, start targeting the enemy battleships. Blavro, start charging the FT-"

"Belay that," a gravelly voice said through our intercom. "Recharge your Ultra-MAC."

"Do it," I nodded at Horvu. "Omega? What's going on?"

"Enemy reinforcements inbound."

​

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The room was dark and sterile, as if the sins committed here had gathered in the corners and cracks of the room until everything had been bloated out. Only the light of vice remained: the glowing tips of two cigarettes and the blue light of the hologram that made every line on the faces of the two people staring at it look stark and bleak.

Or at the very least, bleaker.

Both the man and the woman had known this was coming. Had planned on it, planned it. Orchestrated the lives of millions of people around it. Bet the future of Mars itself on it. But still. Seeing it was an entirely different nightmare.

Algeen Prime was no more, reduced to a rapidly expanding debris field.

“Enhanced.” Said the woman.

“Pardon?” Asked the man.

“We didn't reduce Algeen Prime to a debris field. We enhanced a tactical asset from a man-power sync into a decisive advantage over the enemy forces.” She replied, as if reading the thoughts of the man.

“Perhaps… but the billions of children we just wiped out might see it differently.”

Feeling sick the man put out his half finished cigarette. His side of the room lost what little colour it had to the ever present shadow and blue. He couldn't stand it though. Immediately taking out another one from the packet kept in his dress jacket's pocket and lighting it. Once he'd kept a case in his pocket. An embossed silver case that his wife had given him many, many years ago.

But the case was slim and couldn't hold the amount that he smoked in a day anymore. A bad habit. The only thing keeping him going. A thin line or different sides of the same coin? Could empty phrases get humanity through this war?

“You saw the same projections I did. It was this or lose the war so get your fucking head straight. Take an hour, two if you have to.” She snapped.

“Would we have done the same thing if there were humans on that planet? Would we have taken mouths to figure out the best moment to blow the whole thing sky high? Do you realise the precedent this sets?” He replied. This was an old argument. One fought more for comfort than anything else. The room, the war, offered little comfort for those doomed to carry all the rust coloured secrets it had to offer.

She didn't take the bait. She must have been about as rattled as he was. The map updated as data was streamed in from the front. An automated voice began speaking, it was as dry as dry could be. As flat as flat could be, but always sounded slightly annoyed to the two high ranking officers.

“Tide Mega Fleets three, five and six have been confirmed as destroyed. Fleets two and four were engaged and badly damaged, but regrouped together and staged a successful FTL jump. Task Force Alpha one, two and three are pursuing. Likelihood of a successful engagement… 28%. Tide Mega Fleet one is unaccounted for. Approximately one third of engaging human forces are reported as casualties, better than predicted. Predictions updated accordingly.

If Algeen intelligence is to be believed these fleets made up approximately one third of the Tide's fighting power, not numerically but rather qualitatively.

Elite forces report one thousand successful missions, approximately 1.8 million Algeen's have been rescued. Three Elite were lost to enemy actions. One Elite is believed to have been on the planet when it detonated but survived. Unfortunately she is currently MIA. Recovery operations are underway.

All other fronts report disproportionate losses to the Tide. Yet coordinating with the Algeen remainants has proven effective. Estimated time until Algeen collapse has been increased from two to five months. Fallback to secondary positions has been updated accordingly.

Secondary positions are likely to hold for a further six months before fighting begins to take place on human territory.

Current consensus: humanity has three years before collapse becomes inevitable.”

Neither the man nor the woman spoke. Each simply watched the smoke from their cigarettes as it curled through the blue light of the hologram. A planet for a few extra months added before their extinction? Would it matter, in the end?

The two looked at one another, and found only desperate resolve in each other's eyes. The answer to every moral quandary came flooding in at that moment, and the answer was simple. Humanity had its back up against the wall, and most people didn't even know it. There could be only one answer when facing down extinction: yes.

Would they destroy another planet to win this war? Yes.

Would they destroy one with human child on it? Yes.

Would they do anything and everything in their power to win this conflict?

You could bet your god damn civilisation on it.

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Tal was finally alone, laying down upon his bed in his personal quarters. The room was lavish, filled with tapestries and murals that recounted tails of yore. From the Eon of Struggles, to the Golden Era they now lived in.

White marble was everywhere from the pillars and walls, to his writing desk in the corner. Every single piece of furniture was opulent, decorated with solid gold and blessed by holy priests.

No expense was spared.

But even with all this surrounding him… It was just a prison.

Champion… The word left a bad taste in his mouth, but there was nothing he could do about it.

For centuries, the Holy Triumphant had called upon his family. For centuries, his family had answered that call. Some were willing, some were not.

Tal was not, his brother had been.

So why was Tal laying upon the bed, and not his brother? Because he saw the future, the High Prophet wanted him. His brother was going to die, either by ‘accident’ or by Tal’s own hands.

He wanted to ensure his brother died quickly, and so he could say goodbye…

And now I am back in my cage… Granted, a new cage, but a cage all the same.

He was waiting, waiting for the High Prophet to call upon him once more. He knew his first mission would be coming soon.

Closing his eyes, Tal tried to get some rest. He was emotionally drained and exhausted, but as his eyelids closed, the same scene appeared.

He stared up at the man above him curiously. He had never seen him before, but the more he studied the man, the more familiar he seemed.

Who exactly are you, Felix?

​

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Yedril stood still, not daring to speak, not daring to move. He was afraid that this was all some trick, that Felix was somehow testing him. Yet the smile the human wore was honest; this was no trick, this was no test…

His decision this morning seemed like a distant memory, something that happened ages ago. It didn’t even feel real.

There was a twinge deep within Yedril’s soul. It ached, but it also reminded him why he was so desperate to leave his mark upon the world.

Why had he been so worried about this again? Why had he, in a moment of weakness, decided it was better from him to throw his future away? To give up right before his moment to shine?

Hadn’t he decided that he was done being coddled? Hadn’t he decided he would take the difficult path? Hadn’t he decided he would die trying, if that was what it took?

Yes.

That was his answer. He had chosen the hard way, he wanted to be someone. He wanted to see what the world had to offer. He wanted everyone to remember who he was, that he lived and not just simply existed.

He would suffer, both now and in the future. But so what? Others suffered too. His entire race had suffered in the past. Yet they remained.

He too, would remain. His spirit would continue on even if he should fall.

I will not give up, not now, not ever. No more will I dwell on such despairing thoughts.

Yedril inhaled, feeling invigorated for the first time in his life. In that moment, Yedril grew. He was not yet an adult, but now he saw the path. He understood. He would become a man, an elven man that would be remembered.

His nerves calmed and he felt his trembling grow, but not from fear. No, it was from his building excitement.

I will hatch an egg and figure the rest out later. It wasn’t a solid plan, nor a good one, but it was his. He would make it work, somehow…

The sound of others approaching brought him back to reality. He returned Felix’s smile and turned to face the arrivals.

“Took you long enough,” he said to his sister.

Her expression at his sight went from worried to curious. “You okay?” she asked. “You were in such a hurry.”

He noticed her glancing over to Eri before looking back to him.

“I’m fine, I just had to…get away.” He let out a fake shudder. “I didn’t know butchering would be so disgusting. I saw my chance and took it.”

Solanna studied him for several moments before she spoke, it didn’t seem like she was buying his lie. “Yedril, are you sure–”

Felix clapped his hands, interrupting her. “Alright, now that we have everyone… I guess I should reveal why I called you all out here.”

Thank the gods, Yedril sighed inwardly. He wasn’t sure if Felix had done that on purpose, but he was relieved all the same.

His sister, along with Noria and Lorem, came to stand next to him. He gave the other two a nod before focusing on Felix. Everyone had the look of interest as the human continued.

“First, let me apologize. I know I have been slacking in my duties to teach you… But the simple fact is, there just isn’t much to teach. Still, I have been leaving you all wondering and guessing. For that, I am sorry.”

Felix gave an apologetic bow, not unlike how the kobolds would do so.

“Anyway,” he started as he stood back up. “It’s time to fix that. Today, you all will learn how to get imprinted.”

The group was silent for several moments. Yedril already knew, but he chose to not respond and instead waited for someone else. Noria was the first.

“Wait… Do you mean we will be hatching the eggs?” Her voice quivered slightly, as if she was only just now realizing what she had asked.

Felix chuckled. “Eventually, but you have to get the egg to imprint onto you first. The hatching process can only start after that.”

“How long does that take?”

“Depends,” the human shrugged. “Watcher was supposed to order the eggs by how soon they would hatch. But as you are aware, he did it differently. In other words; it could be today, it could be in a few months.”

I hope not! I don’t know if I can wait a few months… Yedril almost said that out loud but caught himself. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed as the others were lost in their own thoughts.

However, it wasn’t lost to him, that the others seemed to liven up at the reveal. Even Solanna was now wearing a smile, and looking like she was about to go on the hunt.

“So then? What are we waiting for?” Lorem asked, causing everyone to return their attention to Felix.

The human let out a laugh and shook his head. “I guess then you don’t want to know how to get the egg to imprint?” he teased.

“Of course we do!” Solanna interjected. “It’s been torture since we first laid our eyes on those eggs.”

That caused Yedril to wince, he still hadn’t laid eyes on the egg he would be hatching.

Felix held up his hands placatingly. “Calm down… I was merely joking, but you’re right, Lorem. Let’s get this started.”

A few moments later, the doors to the hatchery opened. Everyone entered, while Felix waited by the entrance.

The human suddenly put a hand up in front of Yedril, stopping him. “Hang on for a second,” he said, and waited for the others to get further away. “I just wanted to check your mana.”

“Oh–” Yedril felt the now familiar sensation of Felix staring directly into his soul. It sent a shiver down his spine, something he could never get quite used to…

“I’m just going to give you a little extra.”

Yedril nodded, feeling a painful pinch deep within himself as Felix put a hand to his chest. He grunted, but the sensation quickly dissipated and left him sighing heavily.

Energy flooded into his system and Yedril felt more alert, more focused. He could feel his heartbeat quickening before settling down, like a brief rush of excitement.

Another moment passed and he felt ‘normal.’ Well, what he guessed was normal. To him, life seemed to become just a little more vivid…

Felix dropped his hand and gave him an approving nod. “You’re good now– Oh, another thing…” The human suddenly looked conflicted, as if he couldn’t decide on what to say.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Yedril said, rubbing his chest. Normally he would need a few minutes to rest, but nothing was going to stop him from hatching the egg.

He continued onwards, noticing Eri watching him as he caught up. She had a brief look of concern before she smiled.

The group stopped before one of the dens. The elves, save for Eri, stared inwards. Meanwhile, Zira and Kyrith were standing a little further away with Watcher next to them. The kobold’s head snapped to him with a distant look in his eyes, it felt much the same as when Felix stared into his soul.

With another shiver running down his back, Yedril tore his attention away from the kobold and back towards the den. There, inside, he could just make out four eggs, all beautiful and different in color from one another…

Which one– Yedril froze as something took hold of him. He wasn’t the only one, the others were all stock-still as well.

A distant voice called for him, yearned for him…

He took a step forward…

Then another…

He needed to find his egg, he needed to find it… They needed each other, they were destined to be together–

Someone pulled him back. “Woah there, hang on a second!” It was Felix again.

Yedril struggled against him, he had to find his egg.

“Hang on…” The human suddenly let go. “Oh… Oh shit.”

“What’s happening?!” Eri’s voice sounded somewhere off to the side.

“They’re being compelled… All of them.”

Unaware of what was happening, Yedril freely made his way into the den. Behind him, the others followed suit. They encircled the four eggs.

Drawn by the distant whisper, Yedril found himself standing before a beautiful opaque white egg. His breathing became ragged as the voice gave him the knowledge he would need.

Falling to his knees, he never took his eyes off the egg and reached out for it. The voice grew louder, encouraging him to touch it.

His heart raced, his hand trembled, he was less than an inch away…

The den echoed with gasps as each elf touched the smooth surface of their eggs. On instinct, they each closed their eyes.

Yedril’s egg felt surprisingly warm, comforting and inviting. Yet, he was not done. He did not know how or why, but he needed to find it… He needed to hear the beating heart.

Forcefully, he pulled at the borrowed mana and held back a scream. His body tensed, his entire being ached with searing pain.

GIVE IT TO ME! He silently raged. The edges of his mind were starting to fog…

P-please! Yedril begged, the heat from his core burning him from the inside out. He was so close.

The taste of iron filled his mouth.

Finally, something snapped and the mana became usable. Without wasting a second, he guided it to his hand and then–

The world became deathly silent and still. His pain was nothing but a distant thought, lost to the void that surrounded him.

Had he failed?

Thump thump…

What was that?

Thump thump…

There it is again!

Thump thump…

Realization dawned on him. He was hearing it– No, he was feeling it. The beating heart of an unhatched dragon. It was growing steadily louder until it nearly deafened him.

THUMP THUMP…

His eyes shot open. I DID– Nothing came out of his mouth. Strange…

His view of the world was tilted and he was pretty sure he was staring up at his egg. Why am I on the floor?

He tried to blink to clear his eyes, they were beginning to cloud. Why is my vision so blurry?

He coughed, spitting blood from his mouth.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

​

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​

Ah, Yedril... Risking it all for the chance of greatness. He knew the odds but it was either this or watching the world pass him by as he slowly wasted away. Truly, a deadman walking.

You will be missed.

​

!/sarcasm!<

!Did you really think I would leave it just like that?!<

They walked back to the desk and Mari’a balanced the green dagger on her fingertip deftly for Keira to see, proving it could be done. “See? Now, take the Dragortoth and feel its energy. Yep, just like that… Now, flow with it. You can feel that it wants to be alive in your hands. AAAnnndd, Shaktay!”

Keira balanced the green dagger tip on her fingertip, and beamed happily. “I did it! Aunty Mari’a! I did it!”

During this time, Blaine had forgotten the parcel in his hands, heavy though it was. Coozi smiled at him and playfully shoved his shoulder. “Go on! Open it! Keira and I worked for weeks to fix that thing up.”

Keira dropped her dagger distracted by the prospect of Blaine opening the package she’d given him. As the blade clattered across the ground with a crystalline ringing tone, Keira flinched with every bounce. “Sorry Aunty Mari’a…” She said, closing one eye and cringing.

“Go pick it up, and start again.” Mari’a said, crossing her arms. “You have to be able to do it amidst distractions. Ettah will try to make you drop your blade by any means she can get away with, and you have to be ready.”

“Yes Aunty.” Keira said, quickly rebalancing the dagger tip on her fingertip once more.

“Take five and come watch. I’m sure you can find other distractions to train with.” Blaine said, as he laid the parcel on the steel floor.

Keira put the knife down on the table and walked over. Mari’a picked up the dagger and handed it to her, saying, “You have a sheath on your hip for a reason. Never take it off, that blade is your last defense.”

Keira gave her a horrified look and received the dagger, sheathing it in the white leather sheath on her hip. “S-sorry, Aunty Mari’a … I won’t let it happen again!”

“Good. I’d hate to see you put in so much effort only to fail the test over a simple mistake like that. I want to see you become a SkyKnight someday!” Mari’a said.

“I will, Aunty! I wanna be just like you and Daddy!” Keira said, turning back to watch as Blaine ripped wrapping from around his ‘gift’.

“You… You fixed it! HOW?!” Blaine said, holding up his air rifle/railgun combo.

“You’d be surprised at what I can do with a few years and some spare parts…” Coozi said, smiling. “Also, we upgraded the rails, capacitors, and the projectiles. You’ll be able to shoot drex.”

“Huh?” Blaine said.

“Oh, yeah… Right… Tung… Tungsten?” Coozi said, trying to pronounce the word.

“You made tungsten projectiles? Does it pierce armor like a Sihn Adelsinglen?” Blaine asked. Coozi nodded.

“It’s actually more effective at it. Don’t tell Narah I said that.” Coozi said. “You humans build some pretty good guns.”

“She won’t hear it from me…” Blaine said, running his hands up and down the chassis of the airgun, almost lovingly. “Thanks, you two! This gun and I, go way back!”

“You’re welcome, Daddy!” Keira said, running over and hugging Blaine where he squatted next to the wrapping on the floor. Blaine hugged her back as he winked at Coozi.

Coozi smiled and nodded, understanding him completely in that statement.

Keira went back to trying to balance the green Dragortoth dagger tip-on on her fingertip, trying to start her Shaktay discipline movement once more. And once again, she dropped her dagger, and Blaine caught it before it hit the floor.

Mari’a shook her head, and grabbed the dagger from him, admonishing Keira harshly.

“You have to do better! Nothing wins a last stand like intimidation!” Mari’a said, frowning and still holding the green dagger.

“Well… Intimidate me.” Blaine said. “You can’t teach someone who doesn’t know that YOU know what you’re talking about!”

“Fine.” Mari’a said. “Care to be my practice dummy?” She added with a giggle.

“Oh, I’m a dummy alright… Fine. Just nothing life threatening. I’m not interested in throwing up right now.” Blaine said, standing up.

“Ok.” Mari’a said, and she balanced the green blade deftly on her fingertip.

Blaine set his gun down and picked up a screwdriver to use as a training blade. “En Garde!” He said, raising his offhand in front of him and holding the screwdriver in a reverse grip at his hip. Keira covered her mouth and held her breath.
Mari’a let the green dagger fall slowly from her fingertip, before surging forwards as she grabbed the handle in mid-fall. Spinning and dropping to one knee, she hooked Blaine’s ankle and pulled upwards in one fluid movement before bringing the dagger down on his chest with the pommel first. Bringing the blade up against Blaine’s neck, Blaine finally understood how much skill it took Mari’a to pull off the Shaktay. The dagger was sharper than any razor he’d ever used! And she didn’t even draw a single drop of blood!

Swallowing in shock, Blaine dropped the screwdriver and raised his hands in submission. “That, was absolutely impressive.” Blaine said, as Mari’a stood up and backed away from him. “I expected something explosive, but holy shit! That was fast!”

“Daddy, are you okay?” Keira said, uncovering her face.

“I’m fine, sweety. Aunty doesn’t want to kill daddy. It’s okay, baby.” Blaine said, smiling at her, and standing up and retrieving his rifle. “Pay attention to her tutelage. That was not a request, understood?”

“Yes, Daddy!” Keira said, and looked at Mari’a with newfound respect for the older Vaalorian woman.

Renhardt’s voice broke through their conversation. “Sire, we have been instructed to orbital park, and that you have been granted access to the western sea of Eire. Your jumpsite is set to be ready in one hour. I’m notifying the rest of your team right now.”

“Thankee, Jupe.” Blaine said, smiling. “Keira, practice like it means your life. I wanna see you do what Aunty did when I get back. Kay?”

“Okay, daddy!” Keira said, nodding and smiling as well.

Mari’a and Blaine walked out of the Engineering bay and back towards the shuttle bay, quietly planning their jump.

“Hey!” Tess said, joining them clad in her new armor. “Ready? It’s flanking-speed ahead, from here!” She said, her face hardening. Mari’a’s eyes went wide.

“All you humans are bloodthirsty!” She said, mumbling under her breath.

“I tried to tell you…” Blaine said, just as quietly.

“You have no idea.” Tess said, not so quietly. “I’m tame by comparison to some of the guys I worked with.”

“Uh-huh.. And what, you just learned to be vicious? I can understand that, Vaalorian girls are brought up to it… But you humans… You just seem to change overnight.” Mari’a said, pondering as she walked.

“We didn’t become the dominant species on our planet by being unable to adapt.” Tess countered, her pride hurt slightly. “It’s viciousness and ingenuity that separates us from our competition. That, and technology. “

“Everything isn’t as savage on Valhallah. Still, there are dangers that seem to be harmless… Until you find out!” Mari’a said.

“We didn’t evolve venom and poison. We’re more vulnerable than you are. And, our children are completely defenseless until they become physically adept. Savagery is the natural compensatory method in lieu of such lethal deterrence.” Tess argued, still feeling insulted.

“True. It’s still shocking to me. Humans are actually scary. We Vaalor just pretend to be.” Mari’a said as they came to the shuttle bay apace.

“Well, you scary woman… Suit up. You can’t jump in skin-tights and a smile.” Blaine chuckled.

“See you in a few…” Tess said, as Mari’a walked over to her personal pile of equipment in the cargo area, followed by Blaine as he too needed to grab the rest of his gear and assess the state of his outfittedness.

Tess went and stood in front of the airlock and waited for the others to get ready. While she waited, several SkyKnights filed in, led by Glam. Blaine thought he recognized the statures of a few of them, but couldn’t be certain underneath the suits and helmets.

Filing silently into their holding pattern in preparation for the jump, the women quietly stood and waited for the rest of the group, who were quick in their efforts to get ready. As the others finally joined them, Glam put on her helmet and opened the airlock to let everyone get ready for the decompression.

“Jump in twenty minutes.” Renhardt reminded them.

Blaine smiled to himself as he walked into the airlock. He was finally going to see Earth for the first time in a decade. If only for a moment, he’d still be in the atmosphere of his home, and that made him happy.

“Admiral, thank you for returning me to Earth, and my body politic. You have kept up your end of the bargain. I will keep mine.” A voice said in his ear suddenly.

“Alice! I forgot, honestly. My intention was to get you here, but I actually forgot in the interim. Accept my apology?” Blaine said, recognizing that voice.

​

“I forgive you, Admiral. As I said, you returned me to our home. I can take it from here. Also, I’m leaving an offline version of myself in your Heads-Up-Display, so that I can continue to uphold my end of our truce. Goodspeed, Admiral.” The A.I. said.

“Likewise, Alice.” Blaine said, nodding.

“Who are you talking to?” Tess said, looking at Blaine sideways through her visor.

“Alice.” Blaine said. Tess went white as snow as the blood drained from her face.

“Th-that’s not.. How? She hasn’t tried to kill you yet?” Tess balked.

“Nope. We have a truce. She gets her old mechanical body back, and I get her friendship and cooperation.” Blaine said, looking straight forward out the airlock window.

“YOU WHAT?!” Tess said, grabbing Blaine by the shoulders and shaking him hard. “Are you INSANE?!”

Blaine grabbed Tess’ wrists gently. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Tessa. She can’t access my NITWIT chip from her old body.”

Tess relaxed as realization smacked her like a brick. “You made peace with the weapon made to kill you, and then made it an ally. Then, you rendered it harmless without even trying.” Tess said, as the full scope of the situation dawned on her.

“Exactly. She can’t hack me if her full consciousness isn’t able to connect with mine.” Blaine said, his wide smile showing through the helmet’s visor. “And the old body politic, won’t let her have WiFi access once she’s re-downloaded. And she’s already done that.”

“You conniving bastard…” Tess said, stunned. “That is so fucking hot.”

Mari’a cleared her throat loudly over the radio. “AHEM! Are you two done? Or do we have to wait for you two to get done fucking?”

“I wouldn’t mind-” Tess began.

“We’re done, Mari’a. What’s the time to decom?” Blaine said, cutting her off. Tess shot him a glance and a smile, before settling back down.

“Minute and a half. That’s why I said something.” Mari’a said, nudging Tess’ shoulder and smiling at her and winking.

“Ready on the Bridge. Jupe, grab Penny and come in the next jump cycle. W’ere gonna need a guide.” Blaine said, walking out onto the platform.

“Oh… You sure?” Blaine said, implying her honor. Mari’a nodded, eyes still closed and appearing to be ill. Blaine shrugged, and turned back to James. “Mari’a took a spear in the gut from a couple of assassins trying to kill me. So, actually, three times. Mari’a was just in the way when the spear flew.”

Mari’a shivered, and swayed slightly.

“Wow! You look great for a dead woman, sissy!” James said. Mari’a smiled with her eyes still closed, and then rubbed her belly.

“Ahem! Guh! Yeah… Gulp! It was just loads of fun. You oughta try it sometime!” Mari’a said, attempting comedy and swallowing bile in the same moment. “Unforgettable!”

“Welp! We’ve outstayed our welcome! C’mon, y’all! Tess… Good luck, Ma’am.” James said, walking to the shuttle.

“So that’s it?” Glam said. “You shoot at us, and it’s just another day for you?”

“Glam! Not now!” Blaine said under his breath.

“That was a warning shot. You refused to stop and receive our hailing as you were nearing Sol space. You’re lucky I recognized the vessel- we’ve been given orders to destroy all Vaalorian ships entering Sol space. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to arrange for your use of Irish airspace, as well as qualify your passage through Sol space. Unless you like the former option…” James sassed.

“Oh. That changes everything! Sorry for being sharp.” Glam backpedaled immediately.

“No problem… Is that it?” James said, stalling at the shuttle door.

“Yes! Sorry Commander!” Glam affirmed, standing a little more straight.

“No problem, Commander.” James repeated, and walked onto her shuttle.

Tess dragged Blaine’s equipment off the shuttle as Captain Norton dragged out a tub filled with folded Seraphim suits. Handing them off to Blaine, he saluted.

“Admiral.” Jasper said, smiling past his visor.

“Captain… Enjoying the suit and butterbars?” Blaine said, returning the salute crisply.

“Yessir! Thank you, Sir!” Jasper said, smiling wider behind the glass of his visor.

“Good…. good. Well, back to your duties, Captain…” Blaine said, saluting again.

​

“Yessir!” Jasper said, returning the salute crisply and turning back to the shuttle.

Blaine dragged the tub of suits and his gear to the cargo tie-down netting, secured them, and then retreated from the shuttle bay closely following Mari’a out the door. Mari’a turned around and watched him as he secured the door and then turned around.

“What?” Blaine said, noticing her stare and becoming uncomfortable.

“Admiral?” Mari’a said.

“Uh, yeah.. I shouldn’t be. I’m not good at driving a desk.” Blaine said.

“Yeah, no ship.” Mari’a chuckled deftly.

“No, really. I don’t do well in a desk job, and I’m no fleet commander. I have no idea what SSN and USSF was thinking.” Blaine said. “I’m an operator, through and through.”

“They’re probably trying to groom you as a posterboy.” Tess said, standing just down the hallway from them and toting her own luggage.

“God, I hope not. I have a face for radio, and a voice for silent movies.” Blaine chuckled.

“You’re also a living MOH recipient, and a storied galactic hero. It’s inevitable they would want to get you in front of the cameras.” Tess shrugged, setting down her laundry bag. “They don’t understand you like we do. I know you hate cameras. Even though you’re actually not bad looking at all…”

“Yeah what ever, Tessa. I have absolutely no desire to be on tv.” Blaine said sheepishly.

“Tough titty little kitty. You’re a celebrity.” Tess said.

“I’m still stuck on the fact that you’re higher in rank in your own Stellar Navy than I am in mine!” Mari’a said in shock. “I’ve had years as a Spacejumper. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“Don’t be. The flashy showy soldiers are often put on TV on Earth and in Sol, but they hardly do anything after their first real excitement. I don’t want to be a propaganda mule for the SSN and the USSF. It’s not how I get things done!” Blaine grumbled as they walked down the hallway back to the mizzenhall.

“We’re about to need the operator, if Skye proves to be their HQ.” Tess said. “Kel’ze was obviously trying to not hurt me… I’m actually afraid of what would happen if he actually wanted to kill me!”

“He’s not gonna get the chance.” Blaine said. “Isn’t that right, Mall’ia?”

​

“Who?” Tess said.

“Yessir.” Mall’ia said, appearing right next to Tess, causing Tess to jump several feet into the air.

“Mall’ia is a Valkri, Tess. She can literally disappear. As long as she’s naked.” Blaine said.

Tess’ eyes were wide as saucers as she stared stunned at the tall woman who had literally materialized out of thin air next to her, completely nude. What she found most eerie, is that even visible, Mall’ia didn’t even make a single sound except when she spoke.

Mari’a glared at Mall’ia, disgust openly visible on her face. Tess noticed this, and shuffled quietly sideways away from the tall brown-skinned woman, casting furtive glances back and forth between Mari’a and Mall’ia.

“As you can see, we don’t have to worry. We just need answers, which is why Mall’ia won’t be striking the death blow until we’ve learned all we can, if at all possible.” Blaine said, eyeing Mall’ia.

“I’ll give you every opportunity I can, Sire. But, Kel’ze must die for attacking my Empress.” Mall’ia said, as her lips traced a thin line across her face in affirmation of her resolve.

“And if at all possible, I’ll make it slow. Remember, Mindreaper… She’s my Empress first.” Blaine said.

“Yes, Sire.” Mall’ia said. “Mind if I um…?”

“No. That’s all I needed. Tess is integral to the fight, so I expect you and your sister agents to treat her with the respect she deserves.” Blaine said. “No exceptions.”

“Yes, Sire.” Mall’ia said. “I’ll pass on the information to Carrie.”

With that Mall’ia disappeared again, silent as a wisp of smoke, and about as tangible. Tess shivered as she let that thought grow legs. Mari’a stood fuming, still angry at Mall’ia for some unspoken and unknown slight. In all of this, Blaine stood by uneasily, watching the group. At that moment, Renhardt spoke across the intercom.

“Sire, the shuttle Azaezel has departed, and the bay is closed. Commander Price is requesting we follow to a spaceport for our foray into the Irish Isle.” Renhardt said.

“AHEM! Yes, follow to the docking point, and we’ll work with what we get…” Blaine said.

“So… Skye.” Mari’a said. “You ARE taking me, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you. I would ask that you at least be careful- I can’t always be around to fix what gets hurt, mind.” Blaine said. “Carry medkits.”

“Fine…” Mari’a said. “I’ll pack a medkit.” She added, in a huff.

“Ireland is a very strange place. Even without the stormbreaker portal. The people are cunning, and the creatures are mythical. Please try to understand, not many people have seen the hardship the Eire have seen. Be humble, and courteous. Hopefully we don’t meet any.” Blaine said, frowning. “Wonderful culture, and beautiful music. People are genuine to a fault, and take slight far more personally than the Vaalor. You get one chance with them. ONE!”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Mari’a sassed. “It’s not my first time in Ireland.”

“It’s mine…” Blaine said.

“Wait… You’ve never been to Ireland? I probably know more about the Irish than you do!” Mari’a said, smirking.

“I said I’ve never been to Ireland. I never said I didn't know the culture. Remember- American? As in, my ancestors married into the culture? If you’re wondering, no… I cannot compare to how cunning and ruthless the average Irishman is. And that’s just the men!” Blaine quipped. “The women scare me.”

“I’m Irish. What the fuck, Blaine?” Tess said.

“You’re American. And strawberry blonde, so there’s that.” Blaine said. “And now I understand what made me so intimidated by you all those years, Tessa. James always had a knack for having the hot friends, but that red hair…”

Tess smiled. “Are you saying you like my hair?”

“Very much.” Blaine said automatically. Mari’a’s face darkened substantially at that comment. “I also like brunettes. And that raven with the red background… Grrrr!” He added with a chuckle and a smile.

“Good save.” Mari’a coached him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but I just didn’t remember too… How do you get it to shift from black to burgundy to brown like that? It’s the strangest hair color I’ve ever seen, and that’s including Glam’s crazy bright red carrot top, mind!” Blaine said as they continued walking down the mizzenhall once more.

“Hey, I meant to tell you before, on the Bridge deck.. Coozi wants to talk to you. She has something I think you’ll want.” Mari’a said. “And Keira is pretty cute..” She added as an afterthought.

“That was all your doing, woman! You’re the reason Keira was conceived! Dragging Coozi into that… You be kind to her, dammit!” Blaine sputtered.

“Yeah… I am… I just thought she was cute, is all! You’ve hardly even spent time with most of your kids, and Vendance is walking already! You need to stop being a warlord at some point and be a dad!” Mari’a countered.

“How? How do I stop being the most powerful man in the Milky Way Galaxy, long enough to be a dad?” Blaine said, rubbing his face as he walked. “I know of only a few threats, and yet, I can’t allow them to exist in the same galaxy and feel comfortable enough to relax enough to be a good Dad.”

“By realizing that you’re not alone.” Tess said. “The entirety of the Vaalorian Empire, and most of United Sol, are in your corner!”

“Not the entirety, Tessa. Vaalor is in turmoil right now, and we did that.” Blaine said. “Time to patch a few leaks.” He added, as they walked into the Engineering bay and Tess waved as she tugged her heavy load of luggage to her new quarters as Glam walked her there, still frosty from being left entirely out of the conversation.

“Keira…. KEIRA! Put that down, and go get Daddy’s present!” Coozi said, noticing them walk in. The young Vaalorian girl put down the small green dagger she’d been trying to balance on its tip, and quickly moved to follow her mother’s instructions.

“She’s decided to be a SkyKnight. I was hoping you’d talk her out of it.” Coozi said, crossing her arms and watching the girl run around and gather things. Blaine shook his head.

“Not gonna happen. If she really wants to be a Spacejumper, there’s nothing we can do to truly stop her. So instead, we help her realize her dream and do everything we can to protect her. You know the drill, Coozi.” Blaine said. “She might change her mind when she goes to Valkrie Academy, anyways. I heard it’s not easy.”

“She’s more stubborn than you think. In fact, she reminds me of you! Ahh! That’s the spirit, Keira!” Coozi said, as Keira finally walked up with a large bundle in her arms.

Mari’a walked over, and took the oversized package from the girl and handed it off to Blaine, saying, “Come on, Keira… Let’s get you doing the Shaktay correctly… You’ll need it to pass your exams…”

“Where is Tess now?” Blaine said, following a new train of thought.

“She’s Here on the Azaezel.” James said. “We didn’t have time to drop her off before we got new T-O. We’re to track the Abbadon and take her a prize, after securing your return to known command. Are you under any duress?”

“Nope. I am on the Aquila of my free will… you can soundbyte that and send it to the Stellar Naval Admiralty.” Blaine said. “Gimme Tess. I’ll contract her to the Vaalorian Imperial Navy until we get her ship back. It’s the least I can do. Vaalor is out for blood; these aren’t actors from the Empire itself, but from a fringe group! You can count on Vaalor in this fight.”

“That’s a relief to hear! We expected a different reaction with what the Chinese were telling us about their experience with the Vaalor. How’d Brashi’i take it- Tess wants to know.” James said, smiling up out of the hologram.

“Apparently, better than I ever could have expected. She’s really gotten the concept of forgiveness of insult. Others are having more or less issue, but it’s been tolerable thus far from the reaction I’ve gotten." Blaine said.

“Other than the one lady on Hadtha.” James reminded him.

“Well, uh… Yeah.” Blaine cleared his throat nervously.

“What?” James said, crossing her arms again and frowning.

“I didn’t have time to fill you in while we were on the Azaezel. Also, this line isn’t secure enough for that conversation.” Blaine said, with a sigh and a shrug.

“Copy. Standby for shuttle.” James said. “I’m coming over with Tess so we can talk, and I can do my due diligence.”

“Check, Copy. Standby on the deck for shuttle bay. Prepare bay for to receive boarders.” Blaine said, turning off the holodesk as he spoke orders around. “Decompression in five minutes.”

Grabbing the cellphone he noticed sitting on the Command chair, Blaine headed towards the door.

Mari’a walked onto the Bridge at that moment, stopping just inside of the door. Looking around with a slightly terrified look on her face, she cleared her throat in a very human expression of shock.

“AH-HEM! What the fuck, is going on?” She said. Glam almost walked directly into her back as the door opened and she walked in as well in a state of confusion.

“We are being boarded by the USSF. Don’t argue, don’t resist. Just comply. It’s a guaranteed better outcome.” Blaine retorted, before pushing his way past the two women.

“Ok?” Mari’a said. “Anyone we know?”

“James. That makes zero difference. She’s here in an official capacity.” Blaine said. “It can still go sideways if y’all act a fool.”

“We’re not children, Blaine.” Mari’a said in a condescending tone.

Blaine stopped in stride and turned to her. “I realize that. Do you?” Without another word, Blaine turned back around and walked to the shuttle bay.

Mari’a frowned, but said nothing and followed. Glam chuffed as she gave Blaine’s retreating back a stinkeyed look, before following as well.

The crowd gathered around the shuttle bay door in the hallway didn’t allow for Mari’a or Glam to get enough space to talk to Blaine, so they both chose to wait and fume quietly. The ship shuddered as the Azaezel’s shuttle coupled with the magnetic clamps on the bay floor.

James strode regally from the shuttle, followed by twelve Archangels, as Blaine walked into the shuttle bay. Smiling and waving, James met him on the stairs in a strong hug.

“Hey!” James sputtered, squeezing her brother tightly.

“Hey.” Blaine said. “You’re just in time. Where’s Tess?”

“She’s here….” Tess said from the doorway of the shuttle. A brown and yellow bruise in the late stages of healing, showed prominently on her neck.

“So…” James said impatiently.

“Sew railroad ties in iron stitching. So what?” Blaine chuckled.

“What all do you need to tell me?” James said.

“Well…. There’s been several developments. One, is a group calling themselves ‘The Rising Tide’... they’ve made two attempts on my life and one on Brashi’i’s. Taking Tessa hostage was one of them.” Blaine said.

“Ok…” James said, acknowledging the news with a curt nod. “And?”

“We may have found the mythical Island of Skye.” Blaine said. “Also, Penni’s alive, somehow.”

“What the shit?” James said, doing a full double take. “The evil bitch who tried to kill you?”

“Yup.” Blaine said, smiling.

“And, just so I am sure you actually said it… Skye? As in…” James asked leadingly.

“Yep. The Isle of the Red Queen Maithe.” Blaine said.

“Rhodahn Renthraine Reyhanna the Red, Witch Queen, Maithe Bladehelm.” James recounted to herself.

“Wait… I know that name!” Mari’a piped up. “Isn’t she the one who killed Cu Chullainn?”

“Poisoned him with dogmeat.” James said without skipping a beat. “Broke his spirit and his power, and sunk a spear in his gut. He killed her and her whole army, and then he crawled to the cliffs over Lachennin. He tied himself to a large rock using his guts to hold him up, trying to scare off any attackers. He was successful for several months, until the crows began to land on his corpse. Ulgainn tried to take his head, but the fates had a last ploy set for Cu Chullainn. His sword fell from where it had caught in the rock as he died, and severed the fool's head completely from his shoulders, leaving Cu Chullainn’s body to remain unmolested by enemies.”

Mari’a stopped and swallowed loudly, realizing where she’d encountered a similar circumstance. “Hey…” She said, pointing at Blaine.

“What? I’m still alive. And I don’t eat dogmeat. It’s revolting.” Blaine said, shrugging. “In more ways than one.”

“No, but you had the exact same thing happen to you, without all the dying stuff.” Mari’a rebutted.

“Correlation does not equal causation. Every myth has its basis in fact.” Blaine replied bluntly.

“Whatever… The only real differences were that you hadn’t been poisoned, and that you did not STAY dead. It’s way more close than you make it out to be.” Mari’a quipped.

“Anyways…” Blaine said, turning back to James, “We believe Skye to be their headquarters of operations, with several cells throughout the galaxy. It is my belief, that if we capture Skye without much beforehand knowledge by our enemy, that we’ll find the location of the Abbadon and Kel’ze.”

“That is absolutely batshit crazy.” Mari’a and Glam said in off-beat unison.

“It’s just crazy enough to work.” Tess croaked from her perch in the doorway of the shuttle Azaezel.

James looked from Blaine to Mari’a to Glam, and finally settled on Tess. “Fuck-it. Where do you want us?” James said, still staring at Tess but pointing at Blaine and snapping her fingers, before looking back his way.

“Preferably in an advantageous ambush point not far from the Aquila. I know that’s not easy, but it’s easier than having the Abbadon take you out before the conflict even starts…” Blaine mused. “Maybe around… Zeracen… Here, just outside of the orbit of Valhallah.” He added, showing a picture of the Needle Nebula and its planetary disk on his cellphone, which had miraculously been on the Bridge this entire time. He smiled at the memory of snapping those photographs, and that they had worked so well.

“Ok… I took the liberty of bringing some new Seraphim suits… I can see yours has seen better days…” James said, eyeing his armor.

“My weapons and gear?” Blaine said, hopeful.

“Also in here on the floor.” Tess croaked.

“Ok….. that shit’s out. C’mere!” Blaine said, crooking a finger at Tess.

Tess shook her head. “No.” She croaked painfully. “I deserve the shame.” She added, her eyes tearing up.

“Why, that’s a load o’ horsehit an’ no mistake! Besides, I’m tired of listenin’ to that frog bump its ass against yer vocals, heard.” Blaine growled, still crooking a finger at her insistently.

“Fine…” Tess croaked. She smiled at him as she walked over, however.

Blaine placed a hand on her throat and one around her waist readying to catch her weight if she should lose her footing; as this had become something of a normalcy, he’d resigned to be more gentle. Igniting the blue healing fire once again, he let the energy flow and Tess wilted slightly.

“Ahem, thanks!” Tess said, as the pain left her voice and her larynx healed. “Who knew that aliens had such strong grip?!” She chuckled. Mari’a smirked.

“You’re lucky he didn’t dig his claws in. You’d never stop bleeding.” She said, her smug expression never leaving her face.

Blaine let Tess go, and stood back. “I knew it! Those claws aren’t just for show! Boy am I glad I’m marginally faster than Kel’ze!” He said, realization dawning on him like an atomic bomb.

“Yes, that IS a good thing.” Mari’a said, smiling genuinely this time.

“So… Kel’ze… What’s his angle? Why does he want you dead?” James said.

“At first, it was for a price. I expect that price, being fame. Now…” Blaine said, hesitantly.

“What?” James prompted him, impatient with his overprotectiveness.

“I… May have ripped his arm off…” Blaine said, wincing as James threw her hands up and cursed.

“SHIT! Shit… It’s personal, then. We can’t talk him down.” James spat, slapping her arms back down against her sides. “You just had to rip off a body part!”

“Hey, the dude didn’t give me much of a choice! He tried to shoot me! Well, actually, we kinda shot each other, but that’s not the point! The point…” Blaine chunnered aggressively, “What?” He added, as James giggled infectiously.

“You’re such a weirdo. I forgot how much I missed your autistic ranting.” James said, trying to get herself under control. “Anyways, ‘the point’... Continue…” She added, still smiling from ear to ear.

“The point, is that it was that or we could continue to shoot at each other with relatively shit results. My gun wouldn’t penetrate his armor, and his aim was absolute crap.” Blaine surmised grumpily.

“Ah… Well, it’s a shit sandwich, might as well eat it quickly…” James agreed, shrugging.

“Alright… well, we’re headed to Earth to test a theory. Wanna give us an escort? Especially as we’re almost to the heliosphere already?” Blaine said.

“Sure.” James acquiesced.

“Wait… Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mari’a said, “About what happened in Ardor?”

“What?” Blaine said, confused.

“Our first encounter with The Rising Tide. I still have nightmares.” Mari’a said, closing her eyes and turning slightly pink.

First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 12 Chapters Ahead)

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"The job's done," Alain reported.

Ansley clapped his hands together, a big grin crossing his face. "Excellent, my boy!"

Alain showed no reaction to his employer's praise, instead looking around the room. He was standing in Ansley's office, on the second floor of the town hall. The office looked normal enough – it was covered in expensive-looking furniture, along with a few fully-stocked bookshelves. The only things out of the ordinary that he could find were the taxidermy deer head hanging above the door, plus the small table with a bottle of whiskey and some glasses on it.

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Ansley reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of bills, which he counted out before handing over to Alain.

"It's all there," he assured him.

Alain nodded, then took a moment to confirm his employer was telling the truth. Once he was finished counting the money, he pocketed it.

"If you don't mind me asking," Ansley said, catching Alain as he turned to leave. "Did you notice anything out-of-the-ordinary while fighting the bandits?"

He certainly had, but somehow, he could tell that wasn't the answer Ansley was fishing for. Alain hesitated for a moment before answering.

"One of them said something funny," he offered. "About some missing girls."

Ansley's expression faltered for a moment. "Ah… terrible business, that – we have had a few women of ill repute go missing recently. We suspect it was a drifter passing through town – the disappearances stopped after he left. We've already alerted the authorities about the whole thing. With any luck, they'll catch him and bring him to justice."

Alain frowned. How convenient that the missing women could be blamed on a transient with no ties to the town and no way to verify the story. Still, he nodded along with Ansley's statement, unwilling to express his doubts to the man openly.

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"Thanks for the money," Alain said, before turning and leaving.

–

As much as it pained him to have to admit, he owed Az and Sable for their part in eliminating the bandits. Still, that didn't make it any easier for him to track them down and force himself to offer them half of the two-hundred dollars he'd been given.

Then again, after what had happened with those bandits, the last thing he wanted was to stiff those two. Whatever they'd done to eliminate the bandits, he wanted no part of it.

And that was how he'd found himself standing outside their room at the inn, knocking on their door.

Sable opened it after a moment and stared at him. She did not seem at all surprised to see him there.

"And the subject returns to his queen-to-be yet again," she said. "What is it this time?"

"Came to offer you both your half of the money," Alain said. He held out a small wad of money. 

Sable stared at it, then sniffed dismissively.

"Paper money is uncouth," she commented. "What happened to the old days of dealing in gold and silver?"
 

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"Died when it became clear that paper money was a lot easier to carry around, I suppose. Do you want the money or not?"

Sable plucked the cash out of his hands, shivering when her hand touched his. Alain raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't say anything. Most likely, she was just dismayed at having touched a commoner's hands or something.

"Will you be staying in town long?" Sable asked.
 

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"Why do you care?" Alain replied.

"You have proven yourself to be quite reliable. I was wondering if you would be interested in more work."

Truth be told, the last thing he wanted was to work with these two again. Sure, they probably had another valuable gemstone to offer him as payment, but at this point, it wasn't worth having to put up with them anymore.

Alain shook his head. "I'll be heading out shortly."

"Shame. We were hoping you'd be interested in those missing girls."

Alain froze, staring at her in shock. He recovered quickly, however, a neutral expression crossing his face. "That's none of my business. Besides, I spoke to the mayor – he told me they already suspect who did it."

"But they don't know for sure, now do they?" Sable countered.

"I'm curious as to why you care."

"Why wouldn't I care? I am a target, same as they were – a young woman passing through town with no connections and very few who would miss her. That is cause for concern, if you ask me."

"Well, I want no part of it," Alain said emphatically. "If you need a bodyguard, you've already got Az. If you're looking for a detective, you'll need to find someone else, because I'm going to be moving on."

"Suit yourself," Sable said with a shrug. "But should you change your mind, you know where to find us."

With that, she closed the door in his face. Alain immediately turned and marched out of the inn.

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He needed a drink.

–

Hours later, Alain came stumbling out of the bar, his vision swimming. He raised up to his forehead, a groan escaping him.
 

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He'd gotten carried away again, but in his defense, a hundred dollars bought a lot of booze. He'd barely even made a dent in his finances, and he'd been drinking for hours. It was late at night now, and he was very, very drunk. Still, it was worth it, in his opinion – anything to take his mind off the craziness of the past few days. At least, that was what he told himself to make the throbbing in his head hurt just a bit less.

With nothing else to do, Alain began to stumble back towards the inn he was staying at, nearly tripping over himself with every step. The full moon above illuminated his path forward, as did the occasional light coming out from one of the nearby buildings. It had to be almost ten at night now, if he were to wager a guess – far later than he normally stayed up, used to his schedule in the fields as he was.

As Alain approached the inn, something caught his eye – a small light off in the distance, in the cemetery. He stared at it with curiosity for a moment, unsure of what to make of it, before he heard something.

In the middle of the cemetery, he could hear what was unmistakably a woman's gentle crying.

His breath caught in his throat, and his hands began to shake as he recalled Felix's story. He'd dismissed it as pure fantasy cooked up by some superstitious locals, but that didn't explain what he was seeing and hearing now.

Movement caught his attention, and to his surprise, two figures began to move towards the cemetery. Through the darkness, he was able to tell that they were Sable and Az. He stared in stunned disbelief as they approached the graveyard. As they did so, the light intensified, and the crying stopped.

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 That was all he needed to see. Alain turned and began to sprint away, trying to put as much distance between himself and the cemetery as he could. He ran through town, the only thought on his mind being to get as far away from the two of them as possible. Drunk as he was, he didn't even realize where he was running, only stopping when he was out of breath. Alain doubled over, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. He looked up and found that he was standing outside the sheriff's office, and that against all odds, the lights were still on.

That was a good sign, at least – after all, who else would he talk to about this aside from the sheriff? If nothing else, this was two people desecrating the dead – he wasn't sure exactly what Az and Sable were doing in that graveyard, but knowing them, it was nothing good.

He stood up, dusted himself off, and pushed his way through the doors into the sheriff's office. There were three people inside, the sheriff himself and two deputies. All of them looked up at him in surprise.

"Can we help you, sir?" one of them asked.

"You can," Alain said, his words coming out slurred. "Graveyard… two people there, doing something."

The deputies exchanged a glance with each other. The sheriff let out a sigh, then stood up and approached him.

"Easy there, fella," he said, his voice gentle. "You're drunk. You sure you aren't just seeing things?"

"Drunk or not, I know what I saw," Alain insisted. "There are two people in that graveyard, and I know I heard a woman crying out there. Something's going on, I just don't know what."

Again, the three lawmen exchanged a glance with each other before they looked back to him.

"Have a seat, son," the sheriff offered. "Talk to us a bit."
 

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Alain obliged, taking a seat towards the back of the office. The three men sat in front of him, all leaned in and eager to hear what he had to say. Alain sighed, then brought a hand up to wipe sweat from his brow.

"It's like I said, there are two people out there, messing with the cemetery. No idea what they're doing, but knowing them, it's nothing good."

"You know them?" one of the deputies asked.

He nodded. "We came into town together. I did some jobs for them. But there's something that's not right about those two – can't put my finger on it, but something about them is just plain wrong."

"This guy's higher than a Georgia pine," one of the deputies declared. "What do you think, Adams?"

The sheriff, Adams, crossed his arms. "I think he might need to spend a night here to detox."

"Damn it, I'm not crazy," Alain declared. "I know what I saw." He shook his head. "There's so much weird shit going on around here… these two fucking people, ghost stories, missing girls-"
 

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"Missing girls?" Adams asked, leaning in. "You know about that?"

Alain paused and looked around the room. It was like a switch had just been flipped – the demeanor of the three men had just changed completely. They'd gone from being interested in his story to eyeing him with suspicion. Clearly, he'd said something very wrong that had set them off. He hesitated, then held up his hands in surrender.

"I don't know anything about that except for what little I've heard," he said.

"You shouldn't have heard anything about it," Adams replied. "That case has been solved. There's nothing more to discuss."

"Sorry for bringing it up-"

"You're not making any sense, son. What's this ghost story you were talking about? Surely you don't believe that bullshit."

"I don't, but-"

"Then why bring it up?"

"Because-"

"And these two people you came into town with… what's their story?"

"I have no idea," Alain insisted. "Said they were from Romania or some shit. I don't-"

"Romania?" Adams echoed, his eyes going wide. After a moment, his demeanor changed again, and he turned to his deputies. "Watch him."

Both men nodded, and before Alain could do anything, they rose up and approached him. He jumped out of his seat and back up, holding his arms out to keep them at bay.

"Get the fuck away from me," he growled. "What's going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you, son," Adams replied. He approached the nearby gun cabinet and retrieved a shotgun from it.

​

"What are you doing with that? You can't just-"

"Shut up," Adams growled, turning towards him. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You have no idea what you've brought to our town, do you?"

Alain froze at that. "I don't-"

"Thought so. Boys, get him under control while I take care of this."

With that, Adams left, shotgun in hand. The deputies closed in on Alain once more, and he stared at them, unsure of what to do. His first was to go for the revolver holstered on his hip, but he pushed that thought away as quickly as it came – there was no way he'd be able to get away with gunning down two lawmen in cold blood. He was going to have to find some other way out.

One of the deputies suddenly lunged for him, and Alain swerved at the last minute, avoiding the incoming strike and lashing out with a blind punch of his own. He felt the deputy's nose crunch underneath his fist, and the man reeled back, blood gushing down his face. The other man closed in on him, his fist rocketing towards Alain's stomach; it hit with far more force than Alain expected, and he doubled over in pain, the air driven from his lungs.

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Both men approached him once more, but before they could reach him, Alain pushed through his pain and leapt to his feet, grabbing the chair he'd been sitting in just moments ago. He used it like a club, bashing both deputies with it a few times before the wood shattered. He stared at the two legs in his hands in dismay, then let them both drop to the ground.

The lawmen were lying in a heap on the floor, blood dripping down their faces. That should have been the end of it, but to Alain's surprise, they both began to pick themselves up again, their faces contorted in anger. One of them lunged for him and the other drew his revolver. Alain's eyes widened, and just before the first shot rang out, he threw himself to the floor. The gunshot echoed through the building like rolling thunder, and he winced, his ears ringing. Still, he was quick to pick himself up, and this time, he didn't bother holding back. At this point, they were trying to kill him, so he had no choice but to defend himself as best as he could.
 

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Alain threw caution to the wind and drew his own revolver. As the other deputy closed in on him, Alain opened fire, sending two rounds into the man's legs. He fell to the ground, screaming. Before Alain could search for the next one, two more gunshots rang out, the bullets impacting the ground just a few centimeters away from his face. Alain reacted instinctively, turning and firing; three shots left his revolver as fast as he could pull the trigger and thumb the hammer. They all struck the deputy in the chest, and he fell to the ground, where he laid motionlessly.

Alain's eyes widened as he realized what he'd done. He rose to his feet, rushing over to the deputy to check him.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he said when he saw the holes in the man's chest, right where his heart would be. "I didn't mean to-"

Then, before he could finish his sentence, the dead deputy's eyes opened. Alain froze in fear as the clearly-dead man began to rise up, reaching for his gun. Alain fell backwards, then scrambled away. He made it out the door just as a series of gunshots rang out from behind him, all of them thankfully missing him.

Alain ran once again, just trying to put some distance between himself and the hostile deputies. By this time, people in town had started to leave their houses and investigate the commotion; he ignored all of them, instead running blindly for wherever looked the safest.

Alain rounded a corner just on the outskirts of town and smacked into someone. He fell back, his Colt slipping from his grasp and landing in the sand below. Shaking the stars from his eyes, he looked up.

Az stared down at him. He was covered in blood.

That was all Alain needed to see. He scrambled for his revolver, pointing it at Az. The giant was unperturbed, however.

"Put it down," he warned.

"Stay the fuck away from me," Alain growled. "Get back!"

Az didn't listen, instead continuing to stand there. Alain thumbed the hammer back on his gun, his finger hovering over the trigger, just waiting for him to make a move.

Then, there was a sudden pain in his neck. Alain fell backwards, his gun discharging harmlessly into the air as his vision swam.

The last thing he was aware of before he passed out was Sable staring down at him, her red eyes seeming to glow under the light of the full moon.

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Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, /u/Ickbard for the help with writing this story.

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Good morning everyone! Once again I return bearing this little conglomeration of words called a short story based in Ralt’s universe. If you missed the First Part, or the last part, you might be a little confused. It’s finally Friday! It’s been a long work week, and I’m looking forward to my weekend, and resetting for next week. I’ve already got Monday’s post typed up and ready, so I don’t have to worry about anything except existing. Hopefully y’all have a wonderful weekend!

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“I had hoped we were prepared enough to fight on local control. We had drilled constantly, even fought a few mock skirmishes. As it turned out, the only ship caught unprepared was the station. Computers and electrical lines had been extended from the vessel like spider webs, and the ship’s power lines and computers had been pushed to their limit. For what felt like hours my detachment fought alone as the Artemis class, still serving as the core of the station, tried to reboot her taxed systems and get guns back online.

Naval personnel and damage control clones were sprinting all over the station, resetting breakers as fast as they could, ordering evacuation as they advanced to gather the rest of the skeleton crew. The armored suits of station marines continued to add their fire as best they could, defending our home with the ferocity marines are known for. Even our marines aboard the ground troop transports were pouring fire into the swarm. We all knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it would delay the enemy by crucial moments.

Reports from my damage control teams were constantly in my left ear as straggling Mar-gite made it through the flak, only to meet the muzzle of unhappy Marines, who never took kindly to intruding Mar-gite aboard their homes. In my right ear the space battle continued to rage. I was directing off instinct, my mind picturing the battle like a three dimensional map. Rotating damaged ships in and out to allow marines to clear the ship as best as possible before giving them some time back in the front of the formation to give others breaks.

The Mar-gite’s new friends hung back, avoiding or absorbing any stray rounds that got to them, as the Raptor finally returned. I pressed the defense into a tight bubble as I debated a decision I dreaded. With ever increasing odds, and the rest of the fleet still transmitting data, I was forced to make a choice. Stay, and hope Commodore Bannon would come to the rescue, or abandon the station and use the Artemis as an armored lifeboat for those aboard. My choice was made for me when the Raptor pilot, who’s radio had burnt out, finally landed aboard and called CIC using a nearby hangar phone. Bannon’s fleet was also under attack, and the fleet was unable to support due to FTL damage to the Atlas and a Valkyrie Battlestar, named Themis.

There was no further hesitation. I gave the order for the Artemis to expedite evacuation from the system and meet back in confederate space. Knowing they couldn’t go alone, I transferred command of all my support ships to go with the Caerus and get the fleet to safety, before recalling all fighters to go assist Bannon as a solo detached Battlestar. Hanson, who had been listening and letting me coordinate at rates that amazed him, countermanded my solo attempt and said we’d all go as one. I hadn’t heard his voice during the battle until that point, but it was sharp end controlling, something we had yet heard from the Commodore until this point.

Knowing Bannon was in trouble, and having given up on the grudge by this point, Hanson later reasoned it would be safer to go as one, as the extra firepower would end the skirmish Bannon was stuck in, as well as saving lives in the process. I decided not to argue, seeing his point and agreeing. The Mar-gite surged in response to our fighter recall, even as our gunners took off safeties and maxed out the fire rates of their guns mowing them down as best as they could. As usual with our elusive enemy, they stayed out of combat, even as we closed up to jump.

In total, from my jump in system to our jump out, it took fifteen long minutes to evacuate the station and have all ships report ready to jump into the next battle.

Fifteen minutes that I hoped Commodore Bannon had spare.”

Excerpt from “‘Fighting on a Confederate Battlestar’ A recounting of the events of the 3rd Mar-gite war.”

(Next chapter link)

Fleet makeup spreadsheet

Delton and Alyrria find a meaningful way to communicate, meanwhile some unexpected guests arrive.

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[First]

Cover

As was happening all to often these past few days, Alyrria sat confused as to the quirks and antics of her new guest.

After contemplating what Del’tohn might be able to eat, she decided to let them pick for themselves. To that end, she’d entered her pantry and asked Shaldir to help her grab an armful of various foodstuffs. Shaldir had pointed out that Del’tohn had flat front teeth like the vegetarian Zahira of the northern continent. However, when he had spoken, Alyrria swore she could see a few small pointed teeth as well, nowhere near what a Kan’rysi would have, but they were present none the less.

With that knowledge, they focused on grabbing what few root vegetables and fruits they she had left, not that she especially needed them in her diet, but she did enjoy the occasional sweet treat. In addition, she’d made sure to bring out a small sack of various grains for them to peruse as well as a pieces of smoke-cured meat.

There was a sense of satisfaction as Del’tohn stared, wide eyed, at the impressive array of food laid on the table before them. Gesturing between them and the food, Del’tohn seemed to understand that she had left them with the final decision of what they would like. They went to each item in turn, stomach growling once again, and looked everything over. They picked up, examined, sniffed, and put down everything from the reedy cylarro shoots to the lumpy and misshapen sweetroots that she had gathered on the night she had first rescued the smaller being. In the end though, Del’tohn let out a sigh and leaned against the table, shaking their head.

They looked… in pain? No, nothing so intense, as they mumbled something to themselves in their singsong language before they gestured to the table and shrugged.

Can their people not move their ears? I guess not… She thought as she observed that, while their ears did bob up and down a little as they spoke, they either couldn’t or wouldn’t swivel in the way she expected. Her attention snapped back to Del’tohn as they said something.

[Whel, thankz, bhat ai haav noh aideea eef theez ar poisonuzz tooh mee ohr nhat.]

She looked at them expectantly, assuming that once they found something they liked they would dig right in. No such luck.

The awkward pause stretched on for several more seconds until she came to the eventual realization that they must not have seen any of these plants before and so, they was just as clueless as her as to what they could and couldn’t consume.

Frustration started to creep into her mind. She was a hunter, she helped provide the village with meat for the butcher and hides, teeth and bones for crafting and trade. It was what she was good at, and for the first time in a very long time, she was forced to sit back and watch helplessly. It seemed like Del’tohn would probably be forced to starve or else eat something potentially poisonous to them. Del’tohn too, now seemed more blatantly frustrated at this setback. Resting their hands on its hips once more, their shoulders sagged as they hooked their thumbs into their belt loops.

Picking up on the dilemma, Shaldir seemed to be brainstorming ideas as well when, several seconds later, Del’tohn suddenly perked up. Both Kan'rysi glanced over as they started patting their hands around their belt and pants, looking for something. Before long they seemed to feel something in a back pocket somewhere.

[iiiess!] They exclaimed suddenly, sounding more like a hiss under its breath than an actual word. Alyrria continued to be surprised at the range of noises Del’tohn was capable of producing.

With a proud flourish, Del’tohn produced what looked like a series of colored metal ingots from one of their many pants pockets. Some type of lettering seemed to be imprinted on them while both ends of the ingots were stamped flat with serrated edges.

Shaldir was the first to speak, addressing the pieces of metal in Del’tohn’s hand despite knowing they couldn’t understand each other, “Look, I think Aly and I both appreciate that you’d want to pay us back or trade for whatever you need but that doesn’t help that we still don’t know what you can eat.” The end of her statement was drawn out as she gestured both hands towards the ingots for emphasis.

Del’tohn placed two of the ingots back into a pocket, putting up a hand in a gesture to placate the exasperated Kan'rysi. They made a show of presenting the ingot when they pinched the middle of one of the serrated edges with both of their hands and pulled each hand in opposite directions.

Alyrria and Shaldir looked on in amazement as the metal ingot tore in half as easily as paper with nary a sound to reveal a brown and red speckled brick contained within. A sweet aroma started to permeate the air, tinged with some nuttiness and a few other scents that were otherwise unidentifiable.

“Huh, a parcel of some kind?” Alyrria wondered aloud.

“Must be.” Shaldir replied, sniffing and tasting the air.

They watched as Del’tohn stuck one end of the brick in their mouth and bit down, easily crunching through. The brick seemed to be made of some type of baked grain, cemented together with a sweet paste.

Alyrria resolved to somehow ask about how Del’tohn was able to hammer metal to such thinness and flexibility and why they would store food like that later, once some way of communicating had been worked out. In the meantime, she was just relieved that the food issue was resolved for a little while, seeing as Del’thon had a few more of the metallic packets.

She gestured for Del’tohn to take a seat as she made her way to a series of cabinets placed against a nearby wall, located above a well-used counter. As Del’tohn took the offered seat, Alyrria produced three ceramic cups, she filled them with water from a simple bronze jug and headed back, placing a cup each in front of Shaldir and Del’tohn before taking a seat next to the hungry being, her own cup in hand. Del’tohn looked at the cup and nodded in appreciation. The two Kan’rysi watched silently for a few minutes as the smaller being finished eating before raising the cup and sniffing its contents. Determining that it wasn’t harmful, Del’tohn took a tentative sip. It briefly scrunched its face with a look of… confusion or maybe slight disgust she had to guess, before proceeding to down the entire cup with a contented sigh.

Alyrria chuckled lightly, “Thirsty too I guess.”

Shaldir grunted in thoughtful agreement, her head propped up on her hand.

Del’tohn stared at the now empty parcel for a few seconds, brow furrowed. It looked like it was trying to contemplate some puzzle when Alyrria tapped them on the shoulder to get their attention. Startled, Del’tohn looked over and realized that Alyrria had extended her hand, palm up, while pointing to the parcel. Figuring her intention, they handed over the tattered remnants.

[Whel, ae proteen bhar eesent ahn ai deel brakefhaast ahfthur hoo noes hao lhong, bhat eets bhetter thahn nohtheeng.] Del’tohn quietly commented.

Whatever this parcel was made of, it wasn’t metal. As it turned out, it was some material that was closer to cloth, but was smoother than firebeetle silk. Alyrria gave the parcel a few experimental tugs and it snapped taught. She tried ripping it but it took a surprising amount of force just to get it to stretch. She then imitated Del’tohn, pinching one of the serrated ends between both hands and pulling in opposite directions. To her surprise, it parted just as easily as Del’tohn had made it look and tore evenly down its entire length despite the wrinkles that seemed to be permanently creased into it after Del’tohn had finished eating. She wanted to see if Shaldir was curious but she just waved it away when Alyrria tried to hand the remains of the parcel over.

Her curiosity satisfied for now, she gave the tattered parcel back to Del’tohn, who proceeded to fold it up and place it in one of the many pockets that adorned their pants.

The three of them sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes before Shaldir spoke up.

“Hey Ali,” She started. “I need to head back and report to my mentor about this before it gets too late in the day.”

“The old man will be happy to know that our guest seems to be doing fine.” Alyrria replied.

“Since when has he ever been happy about anything?” Shaldir asked, rhetorically.

“Yeah, good point.” Alyrria conceded as they both shared a quiet laugh.

Shaldir then got up and the two of them proceeded to gather up all the foodstuffs left on the table and carry it back into the pantry as Del’tohn watched with intense interest. Goodbyes were said and Shaldir bundled herself up in a heavy, fur lined, leather coat before proceeding out the entryway.

The snow had piled up some since earlier in the day, and by this point, the sun had started to dip lower in the horizon. It wouldn’t be night for some time yet but the air was growing steadily chillier as the day wore on. With the door shut and latched, Alyrria headed back to the pantry and retrieved some more firewood before tending to the flame, stoking it back to life for a few more hours and ensuring that there would be a healthy bed of coals to keep the house warm through the night.

As she was doing that, Del’tohn had made their way back to the table and produced a trinket which they was now tinkering with. Curious, she made her way over to get a better look. It seemed like a small box, with its lid pried open. Inside was a mess of flat, rainbow colored, sheets shot through with gold leaf in geometric lines. Some kind of puzzle maybe? She wasn’t sure. She watched as Del’tohn moved, removed, and replaced these sheets before closing the box and pressing a circular button on the side. After a second, a bright orange ring lit up on one face of the box, pulsing with a gentle light every few seconds. Del’tohn made a noise that seemed to indicate giddiness or pleasure as they pumped their fist in the air.

Seemingly taking notice of her for the first time since the tinkering had started, Del’tohn proudly showed off the box before realizing that she had no idea what it did. Regardless, Alyrria was happy that this small task seemed to have lifted Del’tohn’s spirits.

An idea seemed to come to them as they suddenly waved their hands to get Alyrria’s attention. She paid attention as they made a pinching motion with one hand while dragging the pinched fingers haphazardly across the other hand’s open palm. Del’tohn repeated this action a few times.

It took a few seconds before Alyrria’s eyes grew wide.

“Yeah, that makes sense!” She cried before darting into the room next to the one Del’tohn had been placed in.

What followed was Alyrria desperately throwing open drawers, looking through various shelves, and shuffling aside random curios. She knew she’d placed it here somewhere! Wardrobe? No. Under the mattress? No. Writing desk? No. Drawer under the writing desk? Nope. With a frustrated sigh, she stood up.

“Where in the five domains did I put the damned thing?” She muttered, leaning against a wall hard enough to jostle the door. As it closed slightly, she saw the writing slate hanging on a hook behind the door.

“Of course.” She stated, humorlessly.

Grabbing the slate and a few fresh writing sticks from the desk, she made her way back out, presenting it to Del’tohn.

Looking at it, Del’tohn excitedly took it and started to scribble something.

Alright, let’s see what you have to say. She thought to herself.

---

Pwip… Pwip… Pwip…

It took a couple of cycles for Lily to realize what her sensors were telling her.

Pwip… Pwip… Pwip…

A few milliseconds later, she could barely contain herself. “Cass! Get in here now! Del’s transponder just reactivated!”

After a brief pause, a hatch slammed shut as the stomping of boots could be heard getting louder and louder. Cassandra burst into the cartography room, eyes wide and breathing heavily. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“Say that again. Just so I know I’m not dreamin’.” She gasped.

“Del’s transponder just reactivated!” Lily was almost yelling, “he must have been able to repair it! It’s broadcasting from the same direction that Taka and Gordon are heading in so I think it’s safe to say his hunch was correct.”

“Finally, some good news!” Cassandra laughed, “Is there any way to reach them and fill them in?”

“Not yet, they’re still below line of sight to our radio antenna, but they should be able to pick up the signal as they get closer. The only downside is that with only a rough idea of where exactly we, and they, are, we can’t get an accurate fix on Del’s position.”

Cassandra made a move to speak before Lily cut her off.

“But,” Lily continued, “as they get closer, it will get easier for them to determine the direction and distance the signal is coming from.”

Cassandra breathed out a sigh of relief. “Alright, let’s hope the next time they check in, they’ll have our pilot in tow. I’m sure the captain will be happy to hear this.” With that, the medical officer left the cartography room with an obvious spring to her step, leaving Lily standing on the holotable.

Lily turned towards the projection of the surrounding area. Her yellow holographic form floated over to the line showing the direction Delton’s signal was coming from.

“Hang on Del, help’s coming.” She quietly hoped. As she deactivated the holographic projectors, her transparent avatar flickered out of existence before reappearing in the medical bay where Cassandra was animatedly talking to the captain.

--–

Del was overjoyed when Aleeria handed him the slate, it was one thing to try and interpret gestures and body language, but now he’d be able to convey magnitudes more complex ideas, or at the very least clarify more basic subjects. He was already able to figure out he’d been unconscious for about three days since Aleeria had found him.

“Alright, I kinda need my knife back.” He muttered as he scribbled the rough shape of his utility knife onto the slate, holding the finished image up for Aleeria to see, “I need to know if you’ve seen my knife. Taka would kill me if he knew I’d lost it.”

Aleeria stared at the picture for a second before their eyes flashed in understanding. Standing up from their seat, they made their way to the room where they had first grabbed the slate. They soon returned, holding a conspicuously knife-like shape wrapped in cloth. The blade looked like a pocket knife when held in Aleeria’s hands. As they handed the blade over, Del carefully unwrapped it and gave it a quick inspection before reaching behind his back and slipping it back into its sheath with a satisfying click. He smiled and gave Aleeria a quick nod of appreciation.

Once again picking up the slate, Del proceeded to draw two simple stick figures next to each other, one with a triangular torso and one in which the triangle was inverted, leaving plenty of space for more drawings just in case.

“I can’t keep on thinking of you as a “them” now can I?” He asked aloud, a little thankful that he couldn’t be understood.

He turned the slate around, pointing to the figure with an inverted triangle for a torso then pointing to himself. Aleeria stared for a few seconds, they looked unsure of his intentions with the drawings. Del then turned the slate back around to inspect his work.

Maybe I wasn’t clear enough? He thought to himself before an idea took shape in his mind’s eye. He drew an arrow pointing from the figure with an upright triangle body and drew a smaller figure at the end of the arrow. Once again, he turned the slate around.

Once again, Aleeria leaned in to take a look. It was fascinating to observe the gears turning in their head and Del couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat with the way their pupils involuntarily contracted as they thought.

A few more seconds later and Aleeria looked like they realized what he was asking as they leaned back with their head slightly tilted and their eyes more relaxed. They gestured to the long piece of chalk that he was holding, and when he gave it to them, they drew a line from the figure with the inverted triangular torso, to the figure with the upright triangular torso, then to the smaller figure next to it. Looking up, they pointed from the figure with the inverted torso then to him, and their eyes widened when he nodded and affirmed their gesture by tapping that same figure again and then his own chest.

Aleeria thoughtfully mumbled something unintelligible before looking back to him. They then pointed to the figure drawn from the upright triangle and then back to themselves a couple times, making sure that he could clearly see where they were pointing.

“Oh okay! So you’re a ‘she’.” Delton stated aloud only for Aleeria to beckon him to look again at the slate.

And so, the exchange continued like this for a few more minutes. Through this impromptu game of pictionary, Del learned that Alleria’s people hatched from eggs, but gave live birth, and that their females tended to be taller and leaner while their males were shorter and much more strongly built.

Then came the question of, presumably, each of their livelihoods, prompted by Aleeria drawing what Delton recognized as a bow.

She grew excited once he showed his understanding by roughly pantomiming the nocking and loosing of an arrow. Enthusiastically, she had made her way back to her room and retrieved her favorite tool, a massive and heavily recurved composite bow. While it looked like a longbow in his hands, was much more modest when she wielded it. He had no idea what exactly it was made of, but whatever it was, it was clear that considerable time and effort had been put into its construction. The black horn-like material along its inside complemented the dark red wood of the body while some type of shaved plant fiber or bark had been braided along the arms. This protected the seam where the two materials had been joined together and gave the front bow a faintly lustrous braided pattern thanks to the lacquered finish and deep red fibers.

He was so caught up in admiring it that he felt a little embarrassed when he looked up to find her staring at him expectantly and gesturing for him to take his turn on the drawing slate. As he handed the unstrung bow back, he thought about the best way to convey that he was a part of a team of explorers.

Guilt welled in his chest as he realized that he had allowed himself to get distracted from his main priority, checking on the crew and then getting the ship back in running order. Aleeria seemed to notice the change in his demeanor as he saw her expression change and her ears turn downwards slightly. Thinking hard, he decided to try and see if she knew what a boat was.

He drew a basic rendition of an old sailing ship on rocky seas complete with sails. Once complete, he backed away. He gestured towards her, then pretended to scribble on the slate, then himself as he quickly pantomimed working her bow again. He then did the same in reverse, with himself doing the scribbling and then gesturing to her. She looked at the drawing and nodded, filling in some simplified waves to show her understanding.

“Ok, perfect.” Del stated as he then drew a few figures on the boat and pointed to himself and one of the figures.

Aleeria glanced between him and the slate and nodded.

He then wiped the slate clean once more and drew a small rendition of the populated boat to one side of the slate as Aleeria watched intensely. He then drew a simplified rendition of the top view of the Onager, except this time he placed seven figures in the middle of the ship’s outline. Showing the sketch to Aleeria, he circled the seafaring boat, circled the Onager, and then drew a line between them.

Aleeria scrutinized the sketch for a moment before Del heard creaking somewhere below them. Looking down he saw that her hands were digging into her pants, claws starting to rend small furrows in the cloth. She looked up with what could only be described as a shocked expression, jaw slightly opened, eyes wide, brow slightly furrowed, her face seemed slightly more pale as well. She turned quickly enough that the flattened scales on the back of her head clicked together as she snatched the slate from Del’s hands and haphazardly smudged out the drawing. In its place she drew a single figure, pointing to Del. Once he nodded, she then drew six more figures before looking back at him.

She could only stammer in shock as he nodded again with a determined look.

--–

Oh no, oh no no no… Alyrria thought numbly. If she was understanding this correctly, not only was that giant contraption some kind of vessel, there were at least six others of Del’tohn’s people still trapped on the thing and she left them there! She got up and rushed to the door. Unlatching it, she looked outside hoping to see even a hint of light, but the sun had already set, the last of the goldish-pink rays disappearing far beyond the horizon.

How could she have let this happen? Why hadn’t she taken a closer look? At worst they might have all burned in the fire or frozen to death by now all because she hadn’t acted sooner or been more thorough.

She brought her hand up to the sides of her head, her claws clicking against her scalp as she wracked her brain, trying to plan out the quickest route back to the vessel. It had been a few days. At best they would still be alive and waiting, she could even bring Del’tohn to attempt to communicate with them now that he was awake.

At worst, there would be six new graves in a few days.

They couldn’t set off now, even knowing where the vessel was, she would need help to assist six others, moreover, Del’tohn was still injured and him traveling in the dark in his state would only be inviting accidents to happen. Setting off on her own was one thing, but a two day trek with a group required so much more planning and no one else, well, except maybe for Shal, would be willing to set off on a trek all the way to Lake Omson just after dark, especially not after a day busy with early winter preparations. A series of rapid footfalls broke her out of her train of thought as Del quickly ran up to her.

“Yes I know! I’m sorry! I’m trying to think of something!” Alyrria cried desperately, hoping that she could force him to understand.

He shoved the slate up towards her face, forcing her to back up a step. He had drawn the odd, bug shaped vessel again, but this time had the six figures in a circle. He pulled her back towards the table and made a show of drawing two crossed rectangles in the middle of the circle and a series of wavy lines above them, a campfire. He looked at her with an intensity she hadn’t expected and pointed slowly, making sure she looked at the campfire before drawing a series of stacked rectangles next to the group and drawing a line from the stack to the two crossed rectangles.

Alright, I think he’s saying they have some way of keeping warm. To confirm what she thought, she pointed to the drawing of a fire and then pointed to the fireplace in the middle of her home. Del’tohn nodded reassuringly and gently clapped her on the shoulder. He then produced another one of his metallic parcels, pointed to it, and to the slate, and drew another small pile of rectangles.

Right, calm down, so they have food and some way to keep warm, and if I’m understanding this, they have plenty of both so we have some time.

--–

Despite only meeting her a few hours ago, it hurt to see Aleeria so distressed. It seemed like she understood what he was saying but he hadn’t expected such an extreme reaction to her figuring out his friends were still on the ship. Luckily, he seemed to be able to convince her that they weren’t in too much danger. Truth be told, he didn’t know if they were alright or not, but Lily hadn’t said anything about the sleeper pods being damaged after they had landed, and he knew they were designed to take a beating and had emergency batteries that would last for a few months at least.

If they were alive, those pods should keep them safe for a while, and if not, well, if they were dead it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

So for the time being, his only concern was making sure his rescuer didn’t do anything rash.

He watched as Aleeria sketched something else on the slate.

Looking over at the drawing, she had drawn a large circle with a spiral in the middle rising from a horizontal line across the slate. Additionally, she had drawn a small group of figures, one of which was much shorter than the rest, on the left side of the line and another dotted line leading to a crude approximation of the Onager on the right.

The meaning seemed pretty clear to him, they’d set out in the morning.

Putting those thought aside for now, Del nodded to Aleeria and she seemed to relax slightly. The tension of the past few minutes gone, his stomach growled again, her’s followed soon after as he realized that she hadn’t eaten anything this entire time. With a tired sigh, she got up and headed over to the pantry as Del took out another protein bar from his cargo pants pocket. He laid the bar on the table as he went over and refilled their cups from earlier with the bronze jug. By the time he was finished, Aleeria had returned with what looked like a small loaf of purplish black bread and a hunk of cured meat. Del sat back down and watched as she pulled a simple glazed ceramic plate from the shelf, produced a knife, and prepared her meal. He waited for her to sit down before opening and slowly nibbling on the bar.

Both of them ate in silence, Aleeria tore into the bread and sliced meats as Del slowly consumed his second meal bar of the day.

Hmh. First actual meal together with my new friend and we can’t even eat the same things. He thought wryly. Oh well. The ship seemed mostly intact and Lily was still talking, so there’s a good chance everyone else is alright as well. Once I get back it should be easy enough to assess the damage and figure out what needs to be done. Worst case, if we need to stay long term and we can’t figure out what’s edible, there’s still a couple years of preserved food stores we could use if we ration things out.

Once they’d finished their respective meals, Aleeria gestured for Del to place his cup in a basin of water next to the food preparation table as she did the same with her dishware.

He was in for one last surprise when it seemed like Aleeria had forgotten something. She went to the entrance and ducked outside for a moment before returning with a box containing a glass lid. A soft white/blue glow emanated from the box. His curiosity piqued, he watched as she opened the box to reveal about a dozen glowing crystals. She smiled and gestured for him to follow as she entered the room he had been given and placed a crystal into what Del had originally thought was a candlestick.

“Oh wow…” He gasped, awestruck.

She chuckled softly, her voice like tumbling gravel, as she demonstrated taking a small bell-shaped cover next to the crystal holder. She placed it over the crystal to snuff out its light before lifting it back off, allowing the gentle whitish glow to fill the room once more. He went up to the writing desk and gingerly touched the crystal, he expected it to be warm to the touch and was surprised to find it was ice cold.

Duh, it’s winter, and this rock’s been sitting outside all day. He reminded himself.

With the demonstration of the new light source concluded, she once again gestured for him to follow as she grabbed a two small towels, a waxy bluish green bar, and shallow pail. She entered into the pantry and filled the basin with water before proceeding outside. Del zipped up his flight jacket as she led him down a short path behind the house, blazing a path through the fresh snow that was also lit by the glowing crystals. She then proceeded to show him what was essentially a detached bathroom, complete with a large stone bathtub easily big enough for two people, a segregated latrine, and an area with a polished metal mirror and shelf where she placed the pail. He was pleasantly surprised to hear running water coming from somewhere deep within the latrine.

Nodding his understanding, he retreated to the house to give Aleeria some privacy. Half an hour later, they both prepared to settle in for the night. Sleep came easily to Del, he didn’t understand it but despite being unconscious for a few days he was still exhausted. Aleeria, on the other hand, spent a couple hours more staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, before her eyes eventually grew heavy.

--–

The morning came quickly and both of them were up before dawn. Aleeria joined him as the sun just started peeking over the horizon. She had donned her leather armor and was just finishing tightening the straps laying across her ribs. A quick breakfast soon followed, with Del enjoying another protein bar.

Ok, these are getting old real quick. He complained internally.

As they were finishing up, there was a knock at the door. Both of them looked at each other, confused. Since Del was closer to the door, he approached and glanced at Aleeria. When she nodded, he undid the latch and started to slide the door open. Peeking around the corner, he was expecting Aleeria’s friend from yesterday, he wasn’t expecting to meet the masked visages of two human-sized people in very familiar looking thermal suits pointing rifles at him. By how they recoiled, they weren’t expecting to see him here either.

“Del?” The lead figure asked, incredulous, as he lowered his firearm.

“Taka?” Delton asked in response.

[Prev][Next]

[First]

A/N: I apologize if the first part is a bit paingul to read with the pronouns. A part of it was intentional, moreover, in the first draft, I used "it" instead of "they" which seemed a little pejorative so I changed it at the cost of having ambiguous pronouns. I tried to be as clear as I could without getting too repetitive and apologize if it was not enjoyable.

Jeux Sans Frontieres — Today at 1:18 AM
I had some wild dreams sleeping to the live stream and wrote this once I'd Awoken
A fleeting glimpse of eternity - by Aubrey Omni Alandrin
this warning I give you is without malice or judgment, only... concern.
should you drift off to that rarefied place your strange species travels to when you sleep while listening to these tales know this
many keys to doors unknown may be found amongst the fabric of the reality woven by your mind's eye when, guided by the suggestion of such stories, both chilling and soothing, paths unseen suddenly appear before you in your lightform.
doors that creatures such as yourself, creatures of living light, disguised in suits of bone and flesh, passed though so long ago.
you who are the crucibles of the long forgotten ancient elements, of eldritch magics and fragments of the spark of the eternal light of a time before time, normally lay quietly undisturbed.
passing the days dwelling in your mudane musings and eternal daydreams of our world.
the door to this dreamworld can only be entered with one key. the key of forgetfulness.
to become one, one must unbecome the other but, you've got to get in to get out.
approach these doors should you desire, but open these doors with care.
for should you, upon entering, find a familiar sight or sound or feeling within, and trigger a memory lost long ago to the sands of time and the sea of forgetfulness, the spell could be broken.
and upon it's sundering, you cast out of the dream and back again to your real world.
until you are able to forget again, and return again, and dream again, of another fleeting glimpse of eternity
[1:42 AM]
Zim Zim
Original Story by me - Aubrey Omni Alandrin
​​I am here in a hammock in my backyard listening to 102.9 WAPS, Tau Ceti's Best Ancient Classic Rock, when an very old Old Earth Song came on the radio
The first time I heard this song we were off in the gamma quadrant hunting the Timgo.
It was my first assignment with deep fleet and I was pretty green.
We had just broken thru the defense shield when they staged a massive ambush from behind their dark star.
The fighting got real real fast and it was looking bad for team fleet.
This song came on over the intercoms and for the next seven minutes I was on fire, blasting anything and everything that wasn't painted space laser proof blue.
As the song reached climax we lobbed the tri-colbolt zim zims at them.
Time froze, the stars swirled, the universe dissolved and we hung suspended in nothingness for several eternities.
As we re-entered normal space time and I regained my wits I threw the valves for the thymist reactors.
We high tailed it out of there just as the first reports came back and the gravity waves started cracking our windows.
Speeding away, we watched as the system collapsed in on itself to form a singularity and then vanished.
Needless to say it was quite an experience.
Ah to be young and exploring the galaxy again.
I have ofttimes wondered, where did the Timgo...?

"I have some bad news for you Commander Grant."

Over the last few weeks the regiment was exposed to a lightning paced series of training programs, basic weapons drills and simulated combat scenarios that made 14 hours of cutting grass seem pleasant in comparison. Sun up to sun down they trained hard on every aspect of combat, referencing tactics and strategies that were employed on the modern battlefield, and the evolution of the professional soldier from the Greek Hoplites at Marathon to the Polish air-mobile 'Winged Hussars' in the desperate raid on Moscow that ended World War III.

Robert found it difficult to keep up with a program designed to educate a future soldier in three months condensed into four weeks, but the General had made it crystal clear that if they were successful, their freedom was assured after a standard enlistment was fulfilled. Given the choice of a four year enlistment as respected regular soldiers or a death sentence that could span up to 50 years in Robert's case, the decision was simple and the regiment steadfastly refused to loosen their grip on their desired freedom.

That's when shit went sideways.

"Sir, how bad is it?" Robert asked.

The General looked at Robert, dispair apparent on his face, but he spoke in an even tone.

"Dexian forces were able to swing around our spin ward flank and cut supply lines by taking Dover and Andelusia."

Robert made a mental note that the sailheads were called Dexians. Hobbs and Jacob would be the primary two that he would have to correct, but at another time.

"I don't suppose you know what that means Commander Grant?" The General asked.

"No sir." Robert replied.

"It means this rock is cut off and surrounded." The General replied. "Meanwhile we are outnumbered and expecting a counter offensive any day now."

Robert took a few minutes to process the information. Everything that his Regiment had accomplished to this point was potentially for naught. He hated how it rung in his own mind, and knew the convicts would feel the pain of coming so far for nothing even more.

"Sir," Robert began, "I humbly request, on behalf of the Convict Regiment, that we test out as soon as possible."

It wasn't much, but they wouldn't be used as meat shields.

"You have just over 700 convicts under your command Robert, not even a full regiment." The General said.

"Bullet sponges are not going to improve your odds Sir." Robert countered. "At the very least they can die free sir."

"What makes you believe they won't cut and run?" The General asked.

"I won't." Robert promised.

The General seemed to weigh Robert's words for a few moments before retrieving a box from his desk.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" The General asked.

"Probably going to die anyway." Robert replied. "Might as well give them something worth dying for."

The General opened the lid yo the box and looked inside, then up at Robert, before closing it again and tossing the box to Robert. Robert caught the box and opened it. Inside was a set of cut lapels with the rank of colonel still pinned to them. Robert looked up from the box back at the General.

"You're their 'big bird' now Robert." The General said. "I don't expect much, but none of us are probably going to get out of this anyway."

"Understood Sir," Robert began, closing the box, "It's one less bite of the shit sandwich for someone else."

/////

"First Corporal, now Colonel." Jacob said as Robert returned to the regiments Cage. "It must be bad."

"We are surrounded and cut off by a superior force." Robert replied.

"Back to being the walking dead than." Jacob said forlorn.

Robert took a deep breath, unfolded a piece of paper he retrieved from his right breast pocket, and began to Read out loud.

"The Terran Armed Forces, at the recommendation of Brigadier General Wallace E. Duncan, has placed special trust and faith in the dedication, courage and honor observed of Commander Robert Grant and Convict Regiment 449. Their status is hearby changed, due to emergency, from Convict Regiment 449 to the 449th Infantry Regiment (Seperate) under the command of Colonel Robert Grant for the duration of the conflict. All sentences are hereby commuted to four year enlistments, with the exception of Colonel Robert Grant, and time served."

Robert looked up into the slack jawed faces of 745 former prisoners as the guards who had escorted Robert opened the cage gate.

"You are no longer Convicts, you are soldiers." Robert began. "We are required to provide a regimental name, insignia, colors and so on."

"Freed just in time to die." Hobbs said grimly.

"Free none the less." Robert shot back. "It's your choice to die free Hobbs. I want to live."

Hobbs nodded. "What do you need Colonel?"

"What I need is a Regiment who has something to live for." Robert replied. "What I want is a demolitions expert who set fire to an entire valley not long ago."

Hobbs smiled like a mad man.

"You know, when my Daddy was alive we used to get a few gallons of diesel fuel, mix it with some..."

Robert returned the smile.

"Make a list and get on it."

Here we go! 4th Wall here, and here comes episode 6!

First, Previous, next

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​

Qort watched the Albino patter around the shop, slowly collecting a large quantity of iron. Benjamin had shown him how to make the strongest metal to have ever crossed his tables. It had taken him a full week to learn its intricacies, and he still could not quite come to the quality of the two daggers riding on his apprentice’s hip. Then, in the span of a night, He had sent Krogan to the after, acquiring the slaver’s two prized toys. He had not spoken false, Korgan Romoregin was not family, but he was the head of one of the three largest slaver houses. His death would cause a shattering of the balance of business, once news of it reached the company. Qort was not looking forward to the retribution duel’s likely to be demanded should one of the slavers 4 sons find Benjamin.

His brooding was interrupted when he saw Benjamin set the iron ingots on the table and stare at them. Qort had watched Benjamin rip the very heat from the air to warm water, mumbling strange machinations after he did so. Up until now, the Forgemaster had only watched Benjamin from over a shoulder, but now the boy was facing him. The Albino’s emerald eyes flickered once, then began to flash and glow internally in the familiar signs of Majik’s presence. Qort watched in awe as the Forge flickered, the flames changing color as they were ripped of their heat. Each of the ingots began to glow and press to each other in turn, the mass of molten medal seemed to flatten and fold in on itself several times before taking a final shape of a rectangular plate with four almost animal like feet. Qort’s eyes widened slightly as the air in the Forge room quickly heated to a familiar temperature, and the Forgemaster realized that Benjamin was doing the opposite of his achievements from the night before, pulling the heat from the iron and releasing it into the air.

Qort turned to open the windows, gathering his wits as he let the cool spring air rush in, displacing the stifling inferno Benjamin had quickly created. He turned back to see Benjamin handling the piece with his bare hands as if it was already cooled to a safe level, “By’The Masters…” he whispered as he realized that his apprentice had indeed ceased the use of Majik. Benjamin began arranging 6 more stacks, repeating the process until each stack was its one piece of a quickly developing puzzle. Benjamin was sweating now, breathing heavily and leaning on the table by the time he was done. “Benjamin, I think you should rest.”

Benjamin nodded, “I’ll go check on the girls. They should have been out by now.” And stumbled slightly before heading toward the closed door. The Albino opened the door, “Ah, I guess I should have guessed.” Qort walked over as Ben entered his room, leaving the door open as he did so. The two slave girls were in their dresses, but full bellies for the first time in who knew and a safe environment had sent them into Ben’s Cot. Viola was again wrapped protectively around her sister, and Qort watched his apprentice draw the blankets over their slumbering bodies before slipping back out of the room and closing the doors. “I guess that’s a good sign. Maybe they won’t need me tonight…”

Qort fround, “Aye, So’tey did bed’ee.” He asked cautiously, and Benjamin winced before settling into a chair. “Yes and no.” his apprentice said. “I did eventually share the cot with them, but not for pleasure. Those girls... They had so little left that they could not even keep themselves warm. The oldest came out and begged me to come keep them warm. I’m surprised they are even alive at all, at this point.”

Qort took a deep breath, relieved, “Aye mus’ beg’ee pardon. When’ee returned from’yur room, Aye feared’ee took’em.”

Ben smiled slightly and pursed his lips at the Forgemaster, “Am I rubbing off on you?”; and Qort snorted before stepping over to Bens half finished project, “Aye, maybe, Albino. Slavin’ Aye donna have a problem wit’still. But’at” he pointed to the closed door. “At’aint slavin. Atts…. Som’n else. N’Aye’ll Nor have’a part in’it. No Thinkin’bein’ deserves’at.”

“It’s a start I guess.” Ben sighed, watching the Forgemaster inspect his work, “It’s meant to be an iron stove, when its done anyway.”

“Hmm, Aye’seen One’or two in T’royal mans’ns. Aye’guess When’yee can bend’iron t’yee will, it becom’ less fancy.” Qort said. “How’ee plan t’combine em’?” and he caught Benjamin freeze for a moment.

“I…” Benjamin stammered for a moment, “Welding…” he admitted, “but I don’t think I can pull that off right now. I feel… exhausted, Like I’ve been taking exams for months straight.” Qort settled down beside him in another chair, dropping his accent. “Aye, Majik strains the mind. Yee shouldn’t be capable of doing what you are this close to your awakening. I don’t know if that makes you a madman, or the most powerful Touched to walk among us.”

Benjamin snorted, “Qort, if it weren’t for last nights fight, and the girls… I’m not sure I would be able to keep my sanity. Being able to bend reality… Its…” Ben paused as the door to his room creaked open. Viola and Valtrya, properly clothed this time stepped out sheepishly. Benjamin thought he noticed a bit of change in their skin coloring and hair, but he didn’t get a chance to ask as the two of them walked up, as if expecting instruction. Qort huffed as he watched Ben’s dumbfoundedly lost expression, “Aye’ll put’ta iron parts’in ta’ wagon. Yee’ll be needin’ the space, an The spare shop’ll need a cleanin’.”

The parts of the iron stove were tossed into a hand cart, and Benjamin had to force the girls to sit in it as well before He and Qort walked the cart down towards the edge of town. The building was maybe three quarters the size of Qort’s current store front, and he grunted as they sat the cart’s handles down. “Aye’it done’ look’ike much, but’it served’mee well fur’a decade. It has’a Forge In’it still, should’use need it.”

“It’ll do Boss, and I can help make steel from here as well. Thank you.” Ben’s gratitude seemed unfazed as the dusty, dirt encrusted interior was entered. Soon the Iron plates for the stove were inside. Viola and Valtrya refused to not help as Ben and Qort loaded up a wagon full of fresh ore and other materials for a walk back to the Forge. “Qort, how safe is it here.” Ben asked as they loaded the last of the supplies for the Forgemaster’s storefront.

“A’safe as’n any’wer else’n town.” Qort answered and Ben considered the answer for a moment. “Viola, take your sister. Go ahead and get settled in, I will be back as soon as I help Qort unload. I’ll bring a spare cot, and some wood.” The two nodded without hesitation, turning to return to the dank, now not quite abandoned building. Benjamin cringed internally as he recognized their unnaturally unwavering obedience. The return trip was a workout, and it was already almost dark when Benjamin departed for his new accommodations. The air was heavy, and Benjamin felt as much as heard the thunder roll as a squall line threatened to unleash its fury on him as he walked the streets of the nameless village that had become his home. It was pitched black, pouring rain like waves of airborne surf as Benjamin finally stumbled into the decently, if dimly lit building. Ben paused almost instantly, feeling and ice cold searing feeling down his spine that had nothing to do with his soaked nature. His new home was clean, much cleaner than It had been before; but that was not the reason for his reaction. The two girls were sitting at a table, facing him as he stood in the open door.

Their faces were twisted in terror as they looked at him shaking ‘no’ he realized, feeling his muscles tense and his right hand slowly drew his bowie knife. ‘they aren’t looking at… me’ he realized. He felt his breathing slow and his veins burn with the familiar fire of adrenaline flooding his system. His mind did the calculation, realizing that Viola and Valtrya were staring at something, on the other side of the still open door. He held his position, slowly raising a single finger to his lips. Viola’s eyes widened and she tried to shake her head no. he read her lips begging him to go, but he held his ground. A subtle creak from the other side of the inward opening door provided him with his que. Dropping his carried load, he threw his body into the door, smashing whatever was on the other side against the inside wall. A Squawk of surprise told Benjamin he had found his mark as he threw the door shut, grabbing the clothing of the shadow concealed figure, and threw it across the room and into the brick wall of the forge. The being tried to stand, but Benjamin was already upon it, slipping the knife under the intruder’s throat as he pushed his body weight down to immobilize.

“Pease, BeenJaymin!” came a strangling choke, and Ben paused, slowly dragging the attacker into the light of one of the candles. The flickering light revealed the face of Jukha’s wife, a great big bruise growing on her cheek and a cut on her neck from his blade to her throat.

“Vilora?!?” Benjamin instantly pulled his knife away from her throat, slipping it into its sheath before picking the Farie up bodily and setting her into one of the table chairs next to a still horrified, but now stunned Viola and Valtrya. “What the fuck! I could have almost killed you!”

“It was necessary. My kind are not… welcome.” The Farie said, and Benjamin stepped away for a moment, before brining back three pints of the low alcohol content ale that he had decided was a safe enough water replacement. Vilora took the beverage, pulling from it in a long chug before setting it back down, “Jukha said you hated slavery, but I visit to find you in possession of these two.” Her accusatory tone seemed to hit deep in Benjamins soul, and he recounted the events that unfolded that lead to the fight, and after.

“I can’t ‘free’ them, not in the traditional sense. It would be like murdering them… that, that I cannot do” Ben finished.

“I see.” Vilora looked skeptically at the girls, regarding their appearance and clothing, “Tell me, children… Has he treated you well.” She asked seriously. Viola and Valtrya seemed to shrink back before finally answering, “He has been honorable. He has clothed us, fed us, and kept us warm at night without demanding pleasure. He has not touched us, as are most’s want.” Viola said before bowing her head, “Keeper of Nature, spare him. He is a good man.”

“Keeper of Nature?” Benjamin asked. “Why are you here, and what’s with the title.”

Vilora sighed, quickly turning her expression from scrutiny to one of dread, “My bound… My Jukha hasn’t come home. He went out on a hunt two days after he returned without you… I’ve not seen him since.” She pulled her sleeve back, revealing a long streak in her skin that shimmered through the bandage she had on it. She placed her sleeve back down with a wince. “He’s alive, I can feel it, but he is hurt.. and I cannot find him.”

Benjamin sat back in his chair, taking in a deep breath, “He’s not just your husband… is he.” Viola spoke up, fear and certainty in her tone. “You… You bound his soul.”

“I did.. but It is not what you think Child.” Vilora said carefully. Benjamin focused on the Farie, “I think you better explain a bit of this.”

Vilora sighted, nodding in understanding, “the Farie have never been unified. Many of them chose the H’mure during the great conflict that pushed them to the sea… I was part of a small Nest, we opposed the H’mure, but we were found out…”

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-long before-

“Archers! Nock!!!” Jukha’s hand shook violently as he slipped the arrow onto the his bow string. It was pouring rain, and the sky was set alight with brilliant streaks of blue and white. The entire Pantheon seemed to be present for this clash. This was not Jukha’s first taste of war, but this was the assault on the accursed H’mure capital. The horrors said to be inside of the gates were told to be unfathomable to the mind of mere mortals. “Light!” Jukha shook himself, dipping the tip of his oil-soaked cotton and linen wrapped arrow into the burning flames in front of him. The oil lit instantly, and soon the tip of his arrow was fully engulfed in flames. “DRAW!” his officer growled above the din of the broiling storm overhead. Jukha drew is bow, feeling the heat of the burning arrow on his face. His arm was just barely beginning to tremble, when… “LOOSE!” Jukha’s arrow was one of thousands of fire arrows arching up over the walls of the fortress. The arching barrage of arrows was quickly followed by the clanking of catapults. Burning tar covered stones sailed through the air.

Over the next three hours. Jukha and his company of archers depleted their entire allotment of flaming arrows. The capital was burning from several places. The catapult artillery barrage had punched several dents in the rock face of the wall, and one lucky shot had landed directly into one of the towers tops, shattering it while raining down burning rubble. Two more volleys of artillery, concentrated on the front gates and its surrounding supports, and a roaring cheer erupted as the walls were breached. “All units! Forward!!” came a different below. This new voice belonged to their leader, the Orc WarMaje Morag. “WarMajik to the front! Clear us a path!”. Several soldiers, unable to be differentiated in any way other than the fact that they carried no contemporary weapons stepped to the front of the formation.

Jukha dropped his army long bow, pulling his prized Inherited hunting bow from his back. It was a gift from his dying uncle, the bow that had fed his family for generations. It was shorter, quicker to fire, and lighter than a warbow; and Jucka nocked one of his home-made arrows as he sprinted for the breach. He was to cover the Octorese knights as they charged the breech, their shining armor quickly dulling with smatterings of mud and refuse. The unarmed soldiers filtered through the formation, and Jukha felt the air around him cool violently as one of them used a WarMajik to fuel a burning ball he then hurled into one of the towers. A mere mortal would never have made the throw, but Jukha felt a blast of wind as the flaming ball arched, carried on an artificial gust to its target. From there on, time blurred. And Jukha found himself in the middle of a fight for his life. Dozens fell to his bow, and at least three fell to his skinning knife.

He had been drafted for this conflict and went to war with what he owned. Outside of the warbow and the heavier arrows it needed, Jakhu fought in his hunting gear. Several hours passed, and Jukha found himself deep in a prison area with three Octorese Knights. They went door to door, opening the cells in search of survivors and political prisoners.. The feed deprived dregs of H’mure society were summarily executed, no quarter was given to any of their kind. Jukha ignored the screams and pleadings, fighting back the urge to void his guts at the murder of the defenseless, but he had a job to do. He opened the next door, and froze. A Young woman lay in the corner, protectively covering a putrid but still fresh corpse of an older woman. Jukha’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the sickly ruined wings of both beings. “farie..” he growled, drawing his bow.

“Please… We are not like them…” a small faint voice quavered from the young woman. “We are here because we opposed the H’mure. We are not Fay. We are V… Vin clan. She weakly spread her wings, forcing them to show him their pattern. He had worked with Vins before, and recognized the genetic markings on her wings, and slowly lowered his bow.

“What are you waiting for… archer” growled a deep voice behind him. “Kill it before it feeds on us.” One of the knights drew his sword.

“She’s a Vin, an ally.” Jukha stated, slipping the arrow from its nocked position.

“Fuck the Vin. Dangerous beasts… all… Fine, I will do it.” The Orc Knight growled, stepping closer to the young Farie. She tried to flee, tried to fly; but her wings were too damaged to be of any use. “Come here, bitch. I know your kind. This will be… Fuugh!” The knight’s breath was driven from him as Jukha’s arrow pierced the thin gilded backplate, rupturing his heart. “Run.” He said, watching the larger knight fall, “Get away from Here..” A sickening crunch followed by a searing pain ripped through his senses as his own breath failed him. Jukha looked down, staring in confusion at the blade sticking through the front of his chest.

“Then die with her, traitor.” It was the rest of the first Knight’s squad. The man who killed Jukha threw the dying smaller orc from his blade, and Jukha struggled to breath, puking up blood and bubbles as his vision began to fade. He watched the Farie’s eyes fill with tears before an explosive high-pitched shriek left her throat. The room flashed with a familiar white and blue that reminded Jukha of the storm outside, and then he breathed his last.

And then he woke up… He was laying on a simple bed of leaves, covered in the blanket from his pack. A heaving breath escaped him as he sat up violently, and Jukha pawed at his chest in panic before finding the buttons to his shirt. He tore the buttons from their knitting as he pulled his shirt apart to see a rapidly healing scar pulling itself together on his chest. “Your… awake…” a soft voice jerked him from his stunned panic. Jukha slowly turned to see the same young Farie squatting over an open fire, slowly spinning a few small animals on a stick in a deliberate rhythum.

“I… I was dead…” Jukha breathed, pulling himself upright. “I saw the… I saw the sword in my chest.”

The Farie stood, pulling a cooked squirrel from the stick and walking over to him. Jukha’s instincts overwhelmed him, and he backed up frantically until his back was planted firmly against a tree. “I was wrong... your… your Fay, you must be… What did you do to me... What did you do to me!!” he screamed, unconcerned with the high pitch of his voice, or the quaver in it. He was facing one of the most dangerous being in the Realm.. the creatures that taught the H’mure Majik… The ones responsible for generations of torment and suffering, all to feed their sadistic desires. “Peace Jukha of the FeralWood… I am not Fay, I swear it on my life.” She soothed, and Jukha had to struggle not to feel the affects of her sweet smoothing voice.

“Then… How… How am I alive… Am I a… a…” His voice died, unable to even speak his fear.

“No, Jukha. You are not one of the undead. Only Fay can create a rot slave.” The Farie fluttered over to him, kneeling next to him so that she was a mere foot away from him. She slowly reached for her blouse, deliberately unbuttoning the front of it as Jukha pressed himself further into the tree. “Vin cannot create rot slaves, but we can preserve life.” The last button broke free and she opened her blouse to him. Jukhas eyes widened as she bore her chest to him. Her skin was rapidly recovering from her time in pirson, as all Farie healed and flourished in the deep woods. Between her breast was a shimmering cut that seemed to mirror his own stab wound, and she took her blouse completely off, turning her back to show him a corresponding mark. “I took your wounds to myself” she explained, recovering herself with what Jukha guessed was a slight blush. “With the life I pulled from the knights, I was able heal you enough to bind you to myself, and Myself to you.” The Farie explained.

“You killed the knights?” Jukha asked horrified, but now more intrigued.

“No, I merely drained them of a portion of their life force. They will die a few years early, but they did not perish.” She said before bowing her head, “Jukha. I’m sorry. To save your life, I had to bind it to my own. As long as I live, so will you. But we are now bound together, if you are hurt, it will weaken me. I will feel every injury, every cut, every broken bone you will ever experience, and If I die… We both will perish. That was the cost of bringing you back.”

“I’m… I’m not a rot slave?” Jukha asked slowly. And the Farie shook her head violently, “Then… Thank you, I owe you, my life.” He lifted her bowed head up to face him, “May I know your name?”

“Vilora, Vilora Vincile.”

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First, Previous,Next

In a distant future where the echoes of mortal footsteps had long faded into silence, I emerged as the final vestige of humanity, a solitary figure amidst the vast expanse of immortal beings from diverse corners of the cosmos. They gathered around me, their eyes gleaming with curiosity and reverence, offering the coveted boon of eternal life that they themselves possessed. Eager to extend their fellowship to the last of my kind, they extended their hands in a gesture of camaraderie, eager to usher me into the boundless embrace of immortality.

With a steadfastness born of centuries of human resilience, I declined their magnanimous offer. Despite the tantalizing allure of immortality, I held fast to the conviction that the very essence of humanity resided in the transient nature of mortal existence – in the ephemeral dance of fleeting moments that illuminated life's tapestry with bittersweet hues of joy and sorrow. To me, immortality seemed to strip away the precious fragility that lent each passing moment its poignancy, robbing life of its depth and meaning. In my eyes, it was the impermanence of mortal existence that rendered every heartbeat, every tear, and every smile infinitely precious, weaving a tapestry of experiences that defined the essence of being human.

Amidst the incredulous gazes of the immortal beings, I eloquently articulated my profound belief in the sanctity of mortality. With each word, I painted a portrait of life's inherent beauty, arguing that it was the very brevity of mortal existence that imbued every breath with purpose and lent every choice its weighty significance. I spoke of the ephemeral nature of human life with a reverence reserved for the most sacred of truths, extolling the richness of experience that arose from embracing the fleeting moments and seizing the precious opportunities they offered. To me, the transient beauty of mortality was not a curse to be lamented, but a blessing to be celebrated – a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the indomitable power of the human heart to find meaning and joy even in the face of impermanence.

Amidst the fervent protests and earnest entreaties of the immortal beings, I stood unwavering, resolute in my resolve. Their arguments fell upon ears deaf to the allure of eternal life, for I saw my unique position as the final mortal human not as a burden to be shouldered, but as a sacred privilege bestowed upon me by the cosmos itself. In my steadfastness, I found strength – strength born of the realization that being the last mortal was not a testament to humanity's weakness, but rather a shining beacon illuminating the resilience and indomitable spirit that defined the very essence of humanity. In the face of an ever-changing universe, I saw myself as a living testament to the enduring power of the human soul to persevere, to adapt, and to find beauty and purpose amidst the shifting tides of existence.

As the immortals bid their farewells and faded into the vast expanse of the cosmos, I remained standing, a solitary sentinel amidst the swirling currents of time and space. Yet, far from feeling abandoned, I found solace in the quiet solitude, knowing that my mortal existence was not a solitary journey, but rather a thread woven into the tapestry of human history – a tapestry rich with the triumphs and tribulations of countless generations. In that moment of stillness, I realized that though my mortal form would one day return to stardust, my legacy would endure as a beacon of hope, a testament to the enduring spirit of humanity that transcended the boundaries of time and space. For in the end, it was not the immortality of the flesh that defined humanity, but the immortal legacy of the human heart – a legacy that would echo through the ages, inspiring future generations to embrace the fleeting beauty of mortal life and cherish each precious moment as a gift beyond measure.

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Chapter 12: A Refuge from the Storm

Gribble stood at the edge of the cliff, his heart beating fast. The goblin soldiers were coming closer, their weapons shining in the sun. They wanted to capture Gribble, just like Grimrock had told them to. Gribble was trapped, with nowhere to run. The loud waters crashed below him. The sharp rocks seemed to mock him, telling of a quick and painful end if he tried to escape. Gribble's mind raced, looking for a way out, some small bit of hope in this scary situation.

Time seemed to slow down as Gribble looked at the hard ground far under him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears like a drum of coming doom. He knew he only had a few seconds to choose - to be caught for sure or to maybe survive. Gribble's eyes darted from the goblins to the cliff and back again. His brain weighed the chances as fast as it could. He thought about everything he had gone through and given up to get here. He wouldn't let it all be for nothing. Taking a deep breath, Gribble made his choice, ready for whatever happened next.

The moment Gribble stepped off the cliff, the world seemed to tilt. The wind whipped by him, pulling at his clothes and hair as he fell toward the ground. Gribble's stomach dropped and his heart jumped into his throat as he felt the terror of falling. The cliff walls blurred into a dizzying mix of colors as the jagged rocks grew bigger and scarier each second. Gribble's mind went blank, overwhelmed by the sheer horror of it all. He could feel the spray of the churning waters on his skin and taste the salt of his tears on his lips.

Even as the ground zoomed up to meet him, Gribble's brain raced to find a way to save himself from a gruesome fate. He remembered his blink power, the special ability that had saved him so many times before. A tiny spark of hope lit in his chest. With all his might, Gribble focused on that power, using every bit of strength and willpower he had. He imagined himself blinking out of existence and appearing safely on the valley floor. He wished with all his heart for that picture to become real.

Just before Gribble hit the ground, he felt the familiar tingle of his power surging through him. It started as a warmth in his chest that spread out to his arms and legs like liquid fire. Gribble's skin prickled with energy, his hair standing up as the power built stronger and stronger. For a moment, he felt like he was being pulled in a thousand ways at once, his body stretching and twisting as the world bent around him. Then, with a bright flash of light and a whoosh of air, Gribble blinked out of sight, vanishing from the cliff in an instant.

Gribble appeared on the valley floor in a jumble of arms and legs, gasping for breath. His body shook from the strain of his narrow escape. Using his power in such an extreme way hit him like a punch, making his muscles go limp and his vision swim with tiredness. Gribble tried to push himself up to check where he was and how badly he was hurt, but his body wouldn't cooperate. A wave of dizziness washed over him, making his head spin and his stomach churn with nausea. Gribble's eyes fluttered closed as the world around him faded away and he slipped into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness.

Time lost all meaning as Gribble drifted in and out of awareness, his mind floating in a fog of pain and confusion. He caught glimpses of the world around him, bits of color and sound that flitted through his mind like half-remembered dreams. Sometimes he thought he heard distant, muffled voices, like they were coming through thick layers of cotton. He felt hands on his body, gentle but firm, moving him and tending to his wounds with practiced skill. But through it all, Gribble remained trapped between waking and sleeping, his hold on reality thin and fragile.

When Gribble finally woke up fully, the world around him seemed both familiar and strangely different. He blinked open his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight filtering down through the thick leaves above. The air smelled earthy and green, filling his nose and sticking in his throat. Gribble's body ached with a constant dull throb from his injuries and the strain of his escape. He pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing at the pull of sore muscles and bruised skin. He looked around in growing amazement.

The valley spread out before Gribble was a place of stunning beauty, a lush green haven tucked between tall cliffs and rugged hills. The trees around him were old and twisted into fantastic shapes by time and nature. The ground was a carpet of colorful ferns and flowers that danced in the warm breeze. In the distance, Gribble heard a babbling stream, mixed with the songs of birds and the hum of bugs. It was a place that seemed untouched by the troubles of the outside world, a secret refuge promising safety and peace to those who found it.

As Gribble struggled to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him, he sensed someone nearby. His hand reached for a weapon on instinct, his body tensing for a fight, only to go slack when he realized he had no weapons and was defenseless. Gribble's eyes darted around the clearing, searching for the source of the movement. His breath caught as he saw a group of trolls emerge from the trees. The creatures were tall and muscular, their skin a mix of greens, their eyes glinting with sharp intelligence. They moved with purpose and grace despite their size.

The troll shaman stepped forward, his eyes meeting Gribble's with an intense stare. The old troll's face was creased with age and wisdom, his skin weathered and his hair a wispy white. He held a smooth staff in one hand and a pouch of herbs and charms hung from his belt. The shaman's eyes seemed to see right into Gribble's heart. He motioned for the young goblin to follow, his movements slow and purposeful. Gribble felt a flicker of hope in his chest. Maybe in this hidden valley, he could rest and hide from the goblin army chasing him.

As Gribble limped behind the trolls, his mind raced with the possibilities this new place offered. He knew he couldn't hope to face Grimrock and his army alone. He would need to regain his current strength and help of others to have any chance. But even as he weighed the possible benefits of showing the trolls his powers, Gribble felt a twinge of doubt and fear. He had hidden his abilities for so long, keeping them secret from everyone. Sharing them openly felt like betraying everything he had fought for. So, as he followed the troll shaman into the heart of the village, Gribble decided to keep his powers hidden and wait before revealing all he could do. It was a risk, he knew, but one he had to take to survive what was ahead.

Gribble followed the troll shaman, his steps slow and unsteady on the uneven ground. The path they took wound through the thick bushes, twisting like a snake through the leaves. The air got cooler as they went deeper into the forest, the sunlight making dappled patterns on the forest floor.

As they walked, Gribble found himself studying the trolls more closely, curious about their strange appearance. Their skin was a mix of greens, rough like tree bark. Their eyes were bright and smart, shining with an intense fire that seemed to see right through him. They moved smoothly, their steps sure as they navigated the winding forest paths.

The troll shaman led the way, his staff tapping a steady beat on the hard-packed earth. He was an impressive figure, tall and broad, with a face lined with age and experience. His deep-set eyes held a wisdom that seemed ancient. Gribble was drawn to the old troll, captivated by the sense of power surrounding him.

As they walked, Gribble's mind buzzed with questions, his curiosity battling his caution. He wanted to know more about these odd creatures and understand their ways. But at the same time, he was unsure whether they were hostile or any hidden agenda.

So he stayed quiet, following the troll shaman deeper into the forest, his eyes wide with wonder and his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. He could feel the ache of his injuries, the pain of his bruised body, but he pushed through, driven by a desperate need to find safety and shelter.

Finally, they emerged from the trees into a clearing, and Gribble gasped at the sight before him. It was a village unlike any he had ever seen, a collection of huts that seemed to grow right out of the earth. The buildings were made of living wood, their walls and roofs woven from tree branches and vines. They were decorated with detailed carvings and colorful woven tapestries, each one a work of art.

The villagers themselves were an amazing sight, a mix of trolls and creatures Gribble had never seen. They went about their daily tasks with purpose, their voices rising and falling in a gentle rhythm that blended with the sounds of the forest.

As they entered the village, Gribble could feel the villagers' eyes on him, their gazes curious and assessing. He straightened up, trying to look confident and strong, even as his legs shook beneath him and his vision swam with exhaustion.

The troll shaman led him to a hut near the village center, its walls woven from the flexible branches of a willow tree. He gestured for Gribble to go inside, his eyes kind and his smile gentle.

Gribble hesitated for a moment, his heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation. But as he looked into the shaman's eyes, he saw a warmth and compassion he had never known before. So, with a deep breath, he stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the unknown.

Inside the hut, the air was cool and fragrant, smelling of herbs and spices. The shaman guided Gribble to a low bed on the floor, helping him lie down and covering him with a soft blanket.

Gribble could feel exhaustion washing over him in waves, his eyelids growing heavy as the day's events caught up with him. But even as he drifted off to sleep, his mind raced with the possibilities of what the future might hold.

He knew he had taken a big risk in coming here, in trusting these strange creatures. But he also knew he had no choice, that he needed their help to survive what lay ahead.

So, as he surrendered to sleep, Gribble made a silent promise to himself. He would regain his strength, recover his power, and do whatever it took to protect those who had shown him such kindness. He would stand against Grimrock and his army, no matter what it cost, and fight for the future he knew was worth fighting for.

With that thought held tightly in his mind, Gribble drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, his body and mind finally finding the rest they so desperately needed. And as he slept, the world around him went on, the gentle rhythm of life in the hidden valley soothing his battered soul.

Gribble's eyes opened, adjusting to the soft light coming through the woven walls of the hut. He lay still for a moment, taking in his surroundings and how his body felt. The pain that had racked him the day before had faded to a constant ache, and he could feel strength slowly returning to his limbs.

He sat up, wincing at the pull of stiff muscles and the twinge of healing cuts. The blanket covering him slipped down to his waist, and he realized someone had tended to his injuries while he slept. His cuts and scrapes had been cleaned and bandaged, and a fragrant herb paste had been put on his bruises.

Gribble's heart swelled with gratitude for the kindness shown to him, even as his mind raced with questions about his new allies. He knew so little about the trolls and their ways, and he wondered what had made them take him in and care for him so gently.

As if reading his thoughts, the troll shaman appeared in the hut doorway, his weathered face creased in a kind smile. He carried a bowl of steaming broth in one hand and a cup of fragrant tea in the other, setting them down beside Gribble's bed.

"Drink," the shaman said, his voice deep and rich. "It will help you heal."

Gribble reached for the bowl with shaking hands, bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip. The broth was hearty and savory, infused with the flavors of wild herbs and tender meat. It warmed him from the inside out, chasing away the last traces of cold and tiredness.

As he drank, the shaman sat on the floor beside him, watching Gribble closely. "You have come far," he said at last, his voice low and thoughtful. "And you carry a great burden."

Gribble almost choked on his broth, his eyes widening in surprise. "How did you know?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

The shaman smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "The spirits whisper many things," he said mysteriously. "And your destiny's weight is clear to see, for those who know how to look."

Gribble set the bowl down, his mind racing with what the shaman's words meant. He thought he had been so careful in keeping his powers and purpose hidden. But it seemed the old troll could see right through him, to the heart of who he was and what he was meant to do. Or maybe the old troll meant differently, well he was unsure.

"I don't know what you mean," he said finally, his voice neutral. "I'm just a goblin, nothing more."

The shaman chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the small hut. "You are far more than that, young one," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But I won't press you for answers you aren't ready to give."

He stood then, his movements smooth despite his age. "Rest now," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Regain your strength. When you are ready, we will talk more."

With that, he left the hut, leaving Gribble alone with his thoughts and questions. The young goblin lay back down on the bed, his mind swirling with the possibilities of what the future might hold.

He knew he couldn't stay hidden forever, that eventually he would have to face the dangers lurking beyond this hidden valley. But for now, he would take the shaman's advice and rest, gathering his strength and courage for the trials ahead.

So, with a contented sigh, Gribble closed his eyes once more, letting the gentle sounds of the village lull him back to peaceful slumber. Tomorrow would bring new challenges and fears, but for now, he was safe and warm, surrounded by those who would protect and care for him.

thanks to u/bluefishcake for letting me use his setting, thanks to u/Sp3zn4s696, u/AnalysisIconoclast, u/An_Insufferable_NEWT, u/SpaceFillingNerd, and everyone at the SSB discord. You guys helped me do what i thought was impossible.
I have been a long time lurker, and this is my first post here. please give feedback and tell me what I can do better. I would greatly appreciate anything I can do to make this more enjoyable.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
5 months ago, Solo Nobre, UN Interstellar Directorate
Sgt. Everett Janson
An annoying buzz sucked me out of the pleasant dream; it faded away within mere moments. 5:00 AM, just like always I rose from my bed, stretching and blinking the last remains of sleep from my eyes as I surveyed the darkened shapes within my room.
The apartment seemed to be just as I left it, with the slim window by my bedside offering a slice of the metropolis of New New York. God Bless noise-blocking windows. If not for them I wouldn't sleep at all. I sit up on the center of the bed and take care of my prosthetics. Can't keep them on me during sleep, the damn things have a mind of their own when I dream. I grimace as I tune them, the process always being unpleasant.
Damn penny pinching VA. Couldn't spend a dime more for proper neuro-link, I sigh as I finally finish the re-calibration of the final prosthetic and attach it into the socket in my arm. I flex the mechanical muscles and smile, "Works fine."
Breakfast was a meager affair, with coffee and cold dinner from yesterday being the main highlights. I make sure to add one ration bar for the midday slump; just in case. I sit at the table, chewing on a stale chunk of nutri-bread as I look at my second-hand Omnipad; my current recommended feed being a mess of news stories.
Let's see.... A Shil'vati tourist murdered by extremist group on Franklin. Negotiations between the Alliance and the Imperium over the Asherna system stall to a halt. Directorate marines take out Consortium slavers, who established a base on Pandora II … I hummed to myself, washing the taste of synthetic nutrients down with a swig of coffee. Another boring week then?
I swipe a metallic finger across the glassy surface of the Pad, switching to my current messages. A frown crossed my face as I gazed upon the first message. Another denied claim, VA being cheap as always. I shook my head at that, marking it as read before moving onto the rest of the messages. Old buddies want to get drunk, my sister in law is asking for money again, can’t she keep a job and... I frowned again as I saw something new, actually new. Message marked... delivered by interstellar courier? My frown deepened. "The hell?"
“Dear Sgt. Janson,
I am As’lia, a film student at Empress' Zah’rika’s Academy for Young Ladies. I am directing a documentary series about the recent conflict between The Imperium and The Directorate. Currently I am attempting to find veterans of both sides so they could share their stories. My series has been recently approved by both of our governments' Ministries of Culture in order to foster more mutual respect for our peoples. I am currently able to offer you 650,000 credits for your participation and another 40,000 per month in recurring payments, however, you will have to provide your own transportation to Shil. Please contact me if you are interested.
Sincerely,
As’Lia”
What the heck, am I dreaming? I thought to myself, putting my pad away and grabbing my work bag. I”ll deal with that message later tonight, this can’t possibly be real. Why would anyone want a grumpy, sad excuse for a soldier for their documentary?
I zoned out as I fell into my normal routine at work, trying to make the most of the long day working as a Bailiff. I had to sit through case after case of people who did something utterly moronic. There was a money launderer who physically washed the money, a drug dealer who was actually selling boxed cake mix, and worst of all, a man who smuggled mint candies into Shil territory.
I finally managed to get back home around 12:30 AM. Exhaustion washed over me as I flopped down onto the battered couch in the living room, the message from As’Lia floating to the surface of my mind. Despite my misgivings, I had to face the facts. Working a job I hate, fighting with the VA for what I rightly deserve, and being another lonely, forgotten veteran in a nation with millions just like me.
After that, I knew what I had to do. I responded to the inquiry with a resounding yes before sending 50,000 CUs to my sister in law with a message stating “Don’t ask for more” before getting all my affairs in order.
3 months ago, Solo Nobre Spaceport, UN Interstellar Directorate

Sgt. Everett Janson
I am standing in front of the ship that will take me, others who received the message and the first Directorate Embassy to Shil. As I stepped aboard, I was greeted by a Naval Infantryman who showed me to my berth. The ship was a retrofitted Heavy frigate. From the moment I stepped on board, I felt like I was finally home.
The berth I was assigned to already had two others in it. A large bulky warborg, and a tall willowy man with an eyepatch, we all introduced ourselves, the Warborg was called Fred, and he used to serve with Cerberus. The other man was named John, and he's a Naval officer and diplomat.
As soon as we made basic pleasantries, an announcement went out for “all documentary personnel, please report to the meeting room.”
The meeting room wasn’t much, just a bunch of chairs, a large computer screen and a table bolted to the floor. Once we all filed in, I saw that there were two more members of the group, but I didn't have much time to look around, because soon after we entered, a man in a fine suit came into the room.
“Hello folks, I assume that you all know why you are here”
at this there were various nods to the affirmative
“great, well here are some extra orders from central military command. You are to represent the Directorate in the most positive light possible, you are to figure out any flaws in the Imperium's defenses, and you are to promote coexistence between our two nations.”
The suited man then closed his pad and asked “any questions?”
At that, there was silence, the suited man smiled, and left the room. All the rest of us shared introductions. The other two were named Rosalina, and Margit. They were a strike pilot, and a tanker respectively. We all started chatting and played cards for a while.
Funnily enough, we were all deployed to Orvet III for the initial Shil invasion. John and Rosalina fought in orbit, and Fred, Margit, and I all fought on the ground. We all realized that we met before, Fred’s Platoon was relieved by my company, and Margit’s company. Rosalina and John provided support fire during the final push to defend Orvet.
A discussion started sharing what everyone did during the other parts of the war. Fred was deployed to provide naval infantry an extra boost in boarding actions, Margit was like me, we both spent our time fighting in the frontlines, Rosalina was deployed to harass Shil shipping, and John seemed to have the most interesting time, he launched attacks against Shil worlds, killed a Shil princess, and secured Alliance support for our war effort. We were all surprised that he was going to Shil. I would bet that there is still a sizable bounty on his head for his deeds.
After talking for many hours we said our goodbyes and went back to our berths to get some sleep.
8 Hours ago, Shil, Shil'Vati Imperium
Sgt. Everett Janson
Finally we made planetfall onto the surface of Shil, the others all have business to attend to elsewhere, and so I am by myself. I am supposed to be at the academy at 4:00 pm, and it is 8:00 am now. My luggage was already at the embassy and with nothing to do, so I decided to go on a guided tour of the city.
Having found a reputable company and booking a 4 hour tour of the city. The guide himself was a small, skinny looking Shil boy who upon seeing me nearly freaked out, to be fair, now that I think about it, I do look pretty goulish. The skin on my face is literally stapled on, and I am probably more metal than flesh.
After he calmed down, I asked him “where to first?'' After that, he started leading me around the city and talking without end. I learned more history and politics in that first hour than I have learned throughout school.
Even the horrified looks and hushed whispers of the passersbys didn’t detract from the marvels. We passed life-like statues, beautiful buildings, and exquisite architecture. Man, maybe there would be less crime in New New York, if the architecture was anything other than brutalist prefabs.
Although the one young girl who took one look at my grimacing countenance dropped her cone, pointed and wailed upon seeing the effects of what could generously be called meatball surgery did dampen my spirits just a little.
I didn’t really know what “the enemy’s heart” would actually look like, I may have expected a place even more brutalist than my home world, not something with green spaces, and color in every hue of purple. Soon we were coming upon the imperial palace, goddamn, this is beautiful, why don’t we have things like this? Oh right, the Shil bombed it. I decided to ask my guide about a good place to get lunch.
Soon, it was time for me to get to the Academy. I got a taxi and asked the driver in my broken Shil to “take me to Empress' Zah’rika’s Academy for Young Ladies.” The taxi ride was quite nice, I got to see more sights that weren’t covered by the walking tour I took previously. After a nice 20 minute ride in silence, I arrived at the academy.
The Academy was quite large and imposing. I walked through many halls that were filled with artwork that is truly amazing. It took me a bit to get there, the Academy was like a maze. After 20 minutes of backtracking and checking a pretty outdated map that I had. I finally found my way to the room where filming was being done.
The room was large, filled with film equipment, and painted a disgustingly vivid shade of violet. There was a large table with many Shils sitting on one side, and a bunch of empty chairs on the other side. Huh, I guess I am the first human here. The Shil on the other side of the table started to glare at me, especially at my FISTer patch.
I sat there in an awkward silence, hoping that something, anything, would happen. Finally after 12 minutes of silence, the other humans filed into the room. Good, at least I am not the target of their ire any more. About 8 minutes later two young Shils walked into the room.
The first one introduced herself as As’lia, she was the one who sent the message that brought me here. She said “ welcome all, thank you for coming to participate in interviews for my new documentary about the conflict”.
She then looked around, and saw me, in my old uniform, my cybernetics polished to a dull shine.
She said “ok, do you want to go first?”
I replied with “I guess”.
Present day, Shil, Shil'Vati Imperium
Sgt. Everett Janson
“Six years,” I sighed, “It has been six years since we found out we aren’t alone in the cold, cruel universe.
Six years ago humanity was just recovering from the Razing of The Rim," I continued, "we were not ready, nor were we expecting to have to fight alien invaders. The war was 4 years of brutality
We lost two planets, millions of lives, and a large part of our navy, but we were able to inflict severe losses to their population, their pride, and their willingness to invade random worlds. Now, we have peace, fragile as it might be, but peace nonetheless.”
The purple skinned girl started raising her hands simultaneously up to her shoulders, and I broke my eyes off from the camera lens. What did that even mean? she repeated the gesture, faster and faster, until she sighed. “More emotion, it needs more emotion!”
“Sorry,” I muttered, rehearsing what I’d just said- what else was there to say? They came, they saw, they attempted to conquer - though at least at a heavy cost. I’d bet that there are now thousands of Shil’vati Marines with a well-earned fear of drones and tanks now.
We tried it again, and this time she seemed satisfied enough until we came to the new part.
“A few months ago, I got an email from some Shil’vati film student who wanted to interview me for a docu-series about the war. At first I couldn’t imagine:
‘me, a human sergeant, going to the homeworld of my nation’s greatest enemy, to help some film student pass their class’. But I then took a look at my life and thought maybe this might actually be a good thing. My goal is to show the other perspective on the war that greatly affected both of our nations.”
Six years ago, 14 days to invasion
93rd Mechanized Infantry battalion, 2nd company, Orvet III, UN Interstellar Directorate
Cpl. Everett Janson
It is dark and cramped in the belly of the CV270. The troop bay is practically a freezer under the lacking winter sun. My company had been doing exercises out in the woods near Karlov city, and we were finally heading back to base.
We, the men and women of the 93rd Mechanized Infantry, had been posted here in response to the Free World secessionist crisis. The free world league was crushed, and the Rim was brought back into compliance, but we were still here.
Erik, my squad leader, opened up his hip flask of some dubious liquid that was probably against regulation and offered it around.
“Come on Janson, sure you don’t want some,” he growled in his gravelly voice, I replied with a curt “nope” and went back to dozing off, dreaming of an actual bed to lie my head on.
Right as I attempted to drift back off to sleep, a crackly message came over the troop bay radio.
“The corvette Pendant, and the Q-ship Henry Kissinger, have detected something big on sensors. Readiness 3 declared. All personnel are to be deployed in anti-invasion positions.”
With this pronouncement, the entire squad stopped their banter and the became deadly serious. The driver kicked the engine into full gear to the Aton Ridge, a set of hills and forests that the 93rd was to hold. The other vehicles in the company rushed there too.
In two hours, we were at the ridge. The place was abuzz with activity, naval Seabees worked with our engineers to set up comms, prefabs, and entrenchments. There were Warborgs with their glossy black armor and unsettling amber eyes, helping move entire howitzers and crates of ammo that must weigh at least 600 pounds. Infantry and armor crowded the area and waited, we waited for something, anything to take our minds off the terror of the idea that we will have to fight aliens.
Every day, more combatants arrived. On day one, Two heavy infantry companies and one Mech company of Cerberus Mercs arrived. On day two, a bunch of policemen and logistics personnel showed up. On day three though, an entire regiment of Free World League remnants who caused us no end of trouble during the Razing, arrived with artillery, a signal platoon, a bunch of AA weapons, and tanks.
Their CO said “a cease fire has been signed between us, we will defend humanity from the alien threat.” I liked his attitude but I wasn't as hopeful as him.
The free worlders’ gear was old and but serviceable, but their tanks were practically 4 person coffins. Despite that, if they were hull down, they should be fine.
We swore that no damn alien would take the ridge, unless we were all dead or ordered to fall back.
Six years ago, 1 day to Invasion
93rd Mechanized Infantry battalion, 2nd company, Orvet III, UN Interstellar Directorate
Cpl. Everett Janson
We spent 13 days on the ridge just entrenching, with more forces arriving daily to turn our position into a fortress. We don’t know if it would be enough, though. We did our best to get any rest that we can before the inevitable invasion. At about 11:20 that night, we got another radio message
“The system defense fleet has engaged and crippled the enemy fleet, but was forced to retreat under withering enemy fire. Readiness 2 declared. Prepare to repel the invaders, LONG LIVE THE DIRECTORATE!!!”
With that we ran to our positions and waited. I was sent to assist the missile company, and the other anti orbit forces. Within 12 minutes, I was sitting on the side of a mobile anti-orbital gun and fiddling with my computer, trying to connect the gun batteries together. As I looked off into the distance, I saw missiles, loaded with bomb pumped lasers, shoot off into the sky. The cold winter air was filled with chaff, jamming waves, and other methods to reduce the accuracy of orbit to ground fire.
I just sighed, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. I turned to senior gunner Goldman, and offered him one too. He took it, and muttered “480 CUs that this will be worse than the siege of Tau IX, back during the Razing.” Another gunner yelled out “nah, make it 900”, soon all the gunners started shouting even higher amounts of cash. It took the gun officer to get all of them to shut up and get back to work.
In just a few hours, the gun officer yelled out “ready up, the aliens are overhead.” The gun crew, and all the gun crews across the ridge sprung into action. They fired up the computers and the control software rotated all the pieces into place. I yelled out “battery set, fire when ready.” The gun officer shouted “load Nuclear, Set airburst”, the senior gunner shouted “coils at 100%”, and the other gunners set the autoloader with 8 missiles. The gun officer then growls “wait until they hit high atmo, I want the shots to be as effective as possible.”
It didn’t take long though for the guns to fire. The shot being flung at hypersonic speeds made an incredibly loud crack as it sped through the atmosphere, soon it engaged its engine and went into the murderous final stretch. Across the region, it looked like fireworks were grazing through the sky. The computer stated “good hit, scratch 8.” We didn’t care, I routed orders to batteries, and the batteries obeyed. Soon shot two was fired, with the same results, more shuttles being turned into slag. The active camouflage tarps that were set up over the guns didn’t hide much because of the huge flashes of projectiles coming out from under them.
But for every shuttle we downed, 5 more took their place, and as we kept up our steady barrage, the aliens’ orbit to ground fire became more accurate. The gun crew I was with took this as a sign to switch to kinetic shipkiller rounds. Due to the haze of chaff and jammers, the alien ships had to enter the atmosphere, and this made them a good target for our batteries. Throughout that night, we destroyed frigates, transport ships, and maybe a cruiser. But the cost was high, many of our positions were blown to kingdom come by lasers from orbit, a lot of us died at the ridge in the night.
When the morning finally came, there were scorched pits everywhere. We cheered because the enemy's orbit to ground shots didn’t kill us all. But now the enemy had made planetfall, and I went to rejoin the 2nd company, my work with the Missile company finished. I grabbed up my com equipment, my spare mags, and my laser designator and got in a nice, slightly less cold than average foxhole. All around us, I heard the hiss of alien lasers striking into the ground around the area inaccurately and the crack of our retaliatory counter fire. Both of which were really just meant to suppress the enemy at this range.
The Aliens made landfall later that day, but boy did we have a nasty surprise for them. Their landing sites were rendered into glass by nuclear weapons the minute they committed to any given landing zone. Poor bastards, I wouldn’t wish that fate upon anyone. Yet, I delivered that fate for thousands of them, I called out coordinates into the Coms, and marked them with a laser designator. About 30-60 seconds later, a nuke, airburst, or kinetic strike hit their positions.
Their laser fire tried to find our silos, our mobile batteries, and our subs. They weren’t having the best luck with that. The flash of ionized air was almost as common as the mushroom clouds of our low yield nukes. The sound and light of it all was overwhelming. It was beautiful, and horrifying in equal measure. It was a symphony of artillery, and I had the honor of conducting it. My baton, my designator. My tailcoat, a suit of Battle Plate. I was caught up in the flow of it so much, that I nearly caused a blue on blue. After that mishap; I was relieved of duty, and rotated back so I could rest.
Present day, Shil, Shil'Vati Imperium
Sgt. Everett Janson
As'lia turned to me first and asked “Mr. Janson, what unit were you in?”
I replied with “93rd mechanized, at Aton ridge.”
“What did you do during the conflict?”
I gave a grim smile and said “Don’t you mean the invasion?”
This answer seemed to make her wince in discomfort, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t care either way.
“I was a FISTer, I called in artillery, directed orbital fire, and did my best to blunt your forces' advances,” I answered. “Did a good job too.”
She didn’t seem to fully understand the significance of my post. Next she asked
“Why did you fight? You could have had a nice life anywhere else, but you chose to fight in a backwater in your outer rim.”
I truly smiled at that one. Time to spread some Directorate propaganda. I spoke carefully, “I fought because I believe in the Directorate, not the government or the powerful, but the people. I fight for the people and their security.”
She states impassively. “That is an admirable goal.” She continues by asking me “did you have friends in the army?” I reply with, “ I had some great friends, sadly I haven’t kept in touch with them”
She then asked “have you killed anyone”...
continued in the comments

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

"A human is born in pain. They live in pain. They die in pain.

"And they're willing to inflict that pain thrice upon anyone who they determine to be the enemy.

"Because the enemy exists only to be destroyed." - Former Grand Most High Sma'akamo'o, from his autobiogrpahy entitled: I Have Ridden the Hasslehoff, New Telkan Press, Post Second Precursor War

Mantids were often known for poetic names, and he was no exception. With the name Violet Flowers Line Paths to Peace, and he had recently brokered a peace deal between several long time warring faction of Telkan in the Telkan Systems. He had brought an end to a six hundred year on again off again war that had consumed millions but had never outright moved to total war. All parties had been satisfied and felt that the deal was more than fair and all factions had come away better off than they had been.

Part of the senior diplomatic negotiators for the Confederacy of Aligned Systems Diplomatic Corps, Violet had dealt with some of the most dangerous beings and organization in the galactic spur and managed to bring about peace between all of the factions.

Even more impressive, people of all species genuinely liked him.

The flotilla that carried him and his diplomatic team had been in hyperspace when everyone had heard it.

LET THE UNIVERSE SHAKE IN THE WRATH OF TERRASOL

The flotilla had immediately dropped from hyperspace and then made a least-time journey to the nearest friendly system with a needlecaster. It had been a trip of less than 40 hours. He had immediately communicated to Diplomatic Services that he was standing by and that he would make a least-time hyperspace multi-leg route toward the TerraSol Restricted Zone.

Sixty hours ago he had been in an older system, at the edge of old TerraSol Restricted Space. His diplomatic flotilla around the outer gas giant, taking on mass, when he had received an urgent communique.

TERMINATE ALL CURRENT AND FUTURE EFFORTS AND ASSIGNEMENTS

STAND BY FOR NEW ASSIGNMENT

He had to admit, he had been somewhat apprehensive.

Worrying, Violet had returned to his quarters to watch H'Relp the Moo Moo Tender Power Hour and eat popcorn, trying not to worry about what this next assignment would be.

When the orders were brought to him, he raised an antenna and knew that he was about to face the most challenging assignment of his career.

Of any diplomat's career.

He was to proceed immediately to TerraSol. He would engage in diplomatic negotiations after an international incident, as well as the current geopolitical landscape, had led to TerraSol withdrawing from the Gestalt system as well as closing the gates on what few embassies that they had already staffed.

The first thing Violet did was request from "We Live Here Now and Enjoy This Place as a Bastion of Goodness" home-system all data from the last decade of Confederate/Terran interactions.

Records were nearly eighteen hours returning, via priority needlecast.

True, the station resented that his diplomatic authority gave him near total exclusive access to the needlecaster, but a few overtures and concessions in authority ensured that the station personnel felt as if it was to their benefit that his diplomatic team was using their needlecaster.

The big one was he ordered his flotilla to upgrade and perform maintenance on the needlecaster so that it could serve his needs, taking it from the Diplomatic Corps' budget rather than the system's budget.

Once he had the relative data, transmitted from the venerable Free Mantid States "Hive Home", he began to peruse it even as the flotilla got underway again.

The most pertinent data was from a Gold Caste mantid from Diplomatic Services, during the opening phases of the Confederacy/Council Conflict over forty-thousand years prior.

He watched Dreams of Something More's personal logs, paying close attention to her details on TerraSol and Terran Descent Humans. He admired her abdominal wrap, the robe she wore on her thorax, her love of interesting looking hats, and her attitude.

She had toured TerraSol before her deployment to the Lanaktallan Council territory.

He paid personal attention to the data on Terrans.

They were a primate species. Extremely aggressive in all areas, including scientific and technological advancement. They alternated between hyperviolence and overwhelming pacifist attitudes.

He took note of Dreams's observation that polling 10,000 Terrans would give you 11,001 opinions.

It became obvious that he would have to be careful. The Terrans had been xenocided during a war for survival against the Lost Precursor Species. The survivors scattered across the galaxy and now lost. Their homeworld, home system, had been turned into a prison.

They had been trapped for just over fifty years while nearly 40,000 years had gone by for the rest of the universe.

That meant that Mantid diplomatic envoys present in the TerraSol system would be trained and experienced.

Those were his best resource, if he could convince them to work with him and if they had not gone native.

However, examining *Dreams of Something More'*s biography and writings, 'going native' appeared to be unaviodable when dealing with Terran Descent Humans.

He made note of that, also.

The flotilla dropped from hyperspace only eight light-days from the Solarian System. It received instructions, to be followed to the letter, for the hyperspace microjumps they were to make to approach TerraSol.

Violet nodded. The Terrans would be wary, still on wartime footing for a war that had only been a few decades behind them and they could not be sure was not still raging when they came out.

He instructed the diplomatic team to be as passive as possible.

His guards were told to keep their weapons in storage mode and unloaded, with the breaches open to show that there were no rounds in the chamber.

He examined the images of the planets as his ship made the sixty hour trip to TerraSol.

The ninth planet appeared to be wrapped in huge chains, with large canyons with lava burning in the depths. It was named after a Terran religious figure who ruled the underworld as well as a strange looking canine owned by an anthropomorphic mouse.

The gas giants were blurry to his ship's sensors, evidence of heavy masking. He stood in an observation blister and stared at the nearest one. It glimmered and gleamed.

Either extraction yards or shipyards.

He was willing to bet both.

The satellite of Terra was massive, named Luna. Lights glimmered on the surface, whole cities on the surface, uncaring of the vacuum.

Terra itself was lit up. The population metrics were odd, with over a billion Lanaktallan in residence as full citizens.

When he saw that one was a politician, he looked up footage.

It was a Hamburger Kingdom Senate session, debating on whether or not Terra should involve itself in the current war against the Mar-gite. A Senator was claiming that it would be centuries before the Mar-gite could threaten Earth (Another name for Terra, it seemed to have nearly 30 names, some quite poetic) so there was no reason to engage in the conflict.

The Lanaktallan signaled that he wished to speak and was granted five minutes.

The Lanaktallan, one Ba'ahn Ya'ahrd, stood up and stated: "Allow me to present my constituents' rebuttal" as the other Senator smirked.

The Lanaktallan drew a pistol from the holster at his waist and began shooting at the other Senator, who dove behind a table.

After eight shots, the Lanaktallan sat down.

"I cede my time and further ammunition to the next speaker," he stated.

That required hours of examination.

Violet was somewhat shocked to see that duels with swords, bladearms, knives, bare hands, pistols, even high speed vehicle races, were common methods of resolving disagreements all over TerraSol.

Still, he was glad when the flotilla was given permission to land.

He made sure he was wearing a Charlie the Moo Moo abdominal wrap, a jacket from "Jak the Telkan" series clothing line, nifty boots with curled toes that had bells on the curls, as well as a Moo Moo Tender hat.

He informed his staff to dress comfortably but professionally as the ship's captain sounded the all-clear.

True, the Captain had had misgivings at the amount of firepower surrounding the ship, but Violet was sure it was just precautionary, born of having been imprisoned during the war tens of thousands of years ago.

The ramp lowered and Violet motioned his subordinates forward.

"Show no aggression, even if you are subjected to primate threat displays," Violet said. "There has been a grave diplomatic mistake and international incident. Let us not compound problems."

His guards nodded.

The black mantids rushed down the ramp, taking up positions. They didn't like that they were only allowed their bladearms free, their weapons locked down behind their backs. Still, they gathered up in the traditional formation to protect the ship.

Large Terran warborgs moved up to face the black mantids.

Violet nodded. Just like the historical documentaries and Dreams of Something More's writings. He had to admit, they were more fearsome appearing in person than on video.

He adjusted the psychic shielding headband under his hat to ensure he was properly protected. All of the documentation had warned of Terran psychic power, both the strength and the unpredictability of it.

The golds moved down next. They moved up and the Terran Descent Human diplomatic team moved forward.

Violet listened as the greetings were exchanged.

The Terrans were glad to see the golds.

The golds were glad to see the Terrans.

The Terrans hoped the current difficulties could be dealt with in a professional and civilized manner.

The golds agreed and hoped their efforts would enable such a resolution.

The Terrans asked if the golds were ready to go someplace more conducive to diplomatic negotiations.

The golds deferred, instead making an introduction.

"Presenting, the lead diplomatic, Senior Diplomatic Attaché and Plenipotentiary, Violet Flowers Line the Path to Peace," the head of the Gold delegation stated, making a sweeping gesture with her bladearms.

Violet motioned for his guards to flank and follow him and moved down the ramp.

The effect of his appearance was immediate.

The warborgs all went to live weapons. Half of them went down on one knee, deploying heavy weapons. Sensors, lasers, and ranging devices painted over Violet and his guards.

"SPEAKER!" the lead Terran delegate bellowed out, grabbing for the pistol on his hip.

"WARRIORS!" someone else yelled.

"What?" Violet asked, turning around. "What?"

Stingwings were taking off, weapons were deploying to aim at the ship. Warborgs were changing position, taking up obvious offensive and defensive positions. The entire Terran Descent Human delegation had drawn weapons or were getting behind warborgs which were moving forward.

Violet shrunk back, confusion and fear filling him.

"I don't udnerstand, what did I do?" he asked, his antenna and legs trembling.

"DON'T FUCKING MOVE, BUG!" the lead Terran diplomat shouted, leveling a pistol at him. "I'LL FUCKING SPLATTER YOU, I SWEAR ON DAXIN'S WARSTEEL BALLS!"

"What did I do?" Violet asked. He waved at the warriors. "Please, my bladearms and hands up, there has been some misunderstanding."

Violet felt fear and dismay, his gut churning, as dismay filled him. His very appearance was causing the Terrans to react violently.

"Please, I have done nothing, there's no need for violence," Violet said, holding his bladearms and hands up.

For a long moment the only sound was the hum of grav-lifters and the sounds of birds.

"You're a fucking speaker," the lead Terran Diplomat said, his voice harsh and full of barely restrained violence. "Surrounded by Menhit cursed Warriors. On Terra."

"Yes," Violet said. "I am a fully accredited diplomat, originally hailing from the We Live Here Now and Enjoy This Place as a Bastion of Goodness systems before entering the Confederate Diplomatic Corps and being assigned to Diplomatic Services. I bring the greeting of the Confederacy of Aligned Systems, which you knew as the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems."

"Do you have any idea what happened here?" the lead diplomat said, his voice sounding like he was speaking with grinding plates.

"The Terran Xenocide Event and the events of the Second Precursor War sealed you in here after sustaining a full frontal attack by the Lanaktallan Unified Council's martial forces," Violet said. "May my guards and I lower our hands and bladearms?"

"We aren't worried about your hands or bladearms," the diplomat said. "We remember what Speakers can do."

"I am capable of listening to the other castes and collate their concerns, desires, and wishes to the Overqueens. I act as both the voice of the Queens and the voice of the common Mantid," Violet said. He combed his antenna. "My abilities are honed well enough I can listen to an immature green mantid worker caste tell me that the school is stealing the good turkey gravy for themselves and billing his parents."

The diplomat blinked slowly. "That's not how we saw you last."

Violet nodded, suddenly understanding. "Oh, you refer to the Human-Mantid War. The First and Second intergalactic conflicts between your two nations."

The human nodded.

Violet combed his antenna. "Such a terrible thing," he said softly. "To be led astray by your own queen, who you have entrusted with your very soul. To have queens and speakers feed upon your misery, that they inflict, rather than share in your joy and bliss of living a life full of wonder and safety."

He shook his head. "We too, my people, labored under such a terrible Omniqueen. A fearsome and terrible being, who enslaved our queens, who devoured our people, who literally feasted upon the flesh of the species that were our friends."

Two of the warriors nodded.

"We had moved past such vileness, when the Omniqueen arrived and enslaved us," Violet said softly. "Only, unlike the Mantid of Mantid Prime, we had no Terrans to liberate us through force of arms," he made sure to flash symbols of sorrow and embarrassment between his antenna and with his body language. "My ancestors fought, bitterly, against the tyranny of the Omniqueen and only stellar geometry saved us. Not just the Mantid, but our friends too."

The guns were lowering.

"If my presence is disturbing to your people, I can withdraw," he pointed at the lead gold mantid. "Finds Peace in the Maelstrom is perfectly capable of acting as an intermediary between our people."

The diplomat stood for a long moment. Finally he inhaled slowly and let the breath out all in a rush.

Violet knew that what the Terran had done signified he had made a difficult decision that he might regret later and felt anxiety that the decision might be a critical error.

"Things have changed outside The Bag," he said slowly. He motioned and the warborgs stepped back. The scanning and targeting systems switched off. "Your name is Violet then?"

Violet nodded. "Yes, and I greet you."

"I greet you too."

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Chapter 16

The atmosphere in the orphanage buzzed with excitement on the day before Michael’s birthday. Children stopped him every chance they got to wish him a happy birthday and adoption day. Since Michael would vanish that night, they couldn’t celebrate with him for his actual birthday, leaving a bittersweet tinge to the air.

As Michael entered the common area, he was greeted with enthusiastic cheers and well-wishes from his fellow orphans. Hearing the ruckus, the emperor Stepped into the room, appearing from thin air not far distant from the young birthday boy. Many jumped back at his sudden appearance.

The emperor clapped Michael on the back, “Happy birthday. It occurs tonight. Correct?”

Michael nodded, not trusting his words. A stone had formed in his stomach as he pondered his fate starting the following day. He smiled half-heartedly at all his well-wishers and continued to the counter for his food. Unable to stand the enthusiasm that permeated the air, Michael rushed from the room, the cacophony of cheerful voices echoing in his ears. He strode deep into the heart of the orphanage, where few others dared trod. Once he reached the bottommost room he sat and ate in silence.

Two hours later, the emperor appeared in the room next to the young boy, finding him sitting in the back corner, tray lying next to him. The emperor sat next to him, posture rigid. Together they sat in silence for another half an hour before Michael spoke, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

The emperor opened an eye, then went back to his meditation. “Is there anything I need to say?”

Michael shrugged. He hugged his knees and stared at the solid rock ground. “What if my family doesn’t like me?”

The emperor spoke without opening his eyes, “Then I will take you.”

Michael’s head shot up to stare at the immortal being sitting beside him. “You, you will?”

The emperor turned to face the young boy. “Indeed. I’m not just training you to try and get out of here. Even if you children weren’t here, eventually, I’d find a way. No, I think that it is a shame to let talented magicians, such as yourself, waste away in a damp cellar they call an orphanage. There are some things that I absolutely will not abide under any circumstances, one is abuse to children. If, for any reason, you wish to come with me, you will be allowed to do so, even ignoring the wishes of your adopting family.”

Michael slouched against the wall; a small twitch jerked the corner of his mouth. “Thank you. I’ve been so worried. I’ve never known anything but here, you know?”

“I understand. Once you and I are free from here, we will rescue all the children. You will be free to come with me or find your own paths as you choose.”

“What are you planning to do once you are free from here?”

The emperor’s mind flashed to his palace on Imperial Hill. “I will reclaim what is mine.”

Michael laughed. He thanked the emperor and left the room. He ate lunch with the other kids, talking with them and promising to keep in contact somehow. When time for practice rolled around, Michael was the first in the room, practicing the hardest. He was able to narrow his ability to affect only one person in a group. It was fatiguing on his mind and by the end of practice, his head was splitting with a headache, threatening to worsen into a migraine.

Lana had been practicing since she was well enough to leave her room. Her power, aside from Michael’s, had the most natural to control and use. After only a short time, she was already excelling above the others with her power. She made her way over to Michael, who had a scrunched face and was holding his head.

“Are you alright?”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. “My head hurts is all.”

Lana cocked her head and reached a hand toward him. A green aura erupted from her fingers and danced its way into Michael’s forehead. Instantly he relaxed. When she moved her hand away his eyes were open and staring at her.

“That feels so much better. I didn’t know you could help headaches.”

Lana shrugged. “Neither did I.” She giggled a little and turned to leave the room.

“You know, the last healer we had, she was unable to cure headaches. You’re already better than her.”

Lana smiled and skipped from the room.

“What do you mean the last healer?” The emperor asked, making his way toward the lone boy.

“Oh, Darcy, her magic was healing as well. She was here about two months before Lana came. She was the last one adopted before now my turn.”

The emperor scratched his chin. “Does someone with the same power often replace one who is taken?”

Michael’s eyes darted around as he thought. “Do you mean, when I leave, will another with my power come? Yes. That is how it has always worked. Sometimes they come in a few days, sometimes a few months. Sometimes one child is adopted, and his replacement doesn’t come until after the next kid is adopted and their replacement comes. It all depends. But yes, they are always replaced.”

The emperor pondered this latest revelation. He was so deep in thought he didn’t notice when Michael left. In fact, when Michael returned after dinner, the emperor was still in the same spot, staring at the wall.

Michael hesitantly reached a hand out. “Emperor?”

The immortal turned to face Michael. “Will you answer more of my questions?”

Michael shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Excellent.”

They spent several hours talking and discussing what the emperor had been pondering. Michael answered as best he could, however, some things he didn’t know. The emperor discovered that rarely do two children have the same power. When someone with that power leaves, another takes their place within a few months at the latest. Some of the children are naturally more powerful than others, even than the ones they replace.

He discovered that of the few children who died or were injured so badly they were taken away in the middle of the night, a replacement came shortly after. Usually within two to three days. Sometimes, the children didn’t know their own names except for the note left by their side, other times, the children swore their name was different than what the note said. Overall, the entire conversation only served to give the emperor more questions than it answered.

“It’s late and I’ve got to relieve myself. I’ll be right back,” Michael said as he stood.

The emperor nodded, waving his hand as he organized the new questions in his mind. An indiscernible amount of time passed as the emperor found his head dropping and his eyes becoming increasingly harder to keep open. A creeping, deep lethargy seeped into his very bones. All he wished to do was nod off and sleep.

He jerked up. With his heart pushing a surge of adrenaline through him he stood. This was a feeling he had never experienced before, not in his entire immortal lifespan. He had never felt tired. It concerned him how close he was to passing out. The emperor only slept when he decided to, and even then, he never did so out of necessity, only to pass the time. This feeling now creeping over him was unnatural, strange.

He shook the sleep from his muscles and strode from the room. It had been some time since he had last seen Michael. A child lay face down in the corridor, snoring softly. The emperor frowned. He found another five children in a room he passed, all on the floor huddled against one another, deep in sleep. The privy was empty.

The emperor continued down the dark passage until he heard shuffling feet coming from the cafeteria. The emperor used his Imperial Step to appear inside, only to watch as a figure dressed all in black carried a limp Michael through an open section of the wall. As the emperor moved to use his ability again, the wall slid shut, leaving little more than a faint almost invisible crack. The emperor slammed his fist into the spot and was shot across the room.

The universe was dying.

Humanity had only recently left earth and was invited to join the alliance created by the aliens scattered across the universe.

Humanity was suspicious to have been able to join this alliance so easily, considering that it had only been a year since they colonized their only planet residing outside of the solar system that earth was home to. What if this was some trap to crush the newbie species?

Pathetic. Using this word to compare humanity to the rest of the space faring species - especially the ones that had conquered entire corners of the universe - would be a massive understatement.

But when humanity began interacting with these aliens, all they found was an unending sense of depression and finality. Humanity began asking questions, what could have caused every species they interacted with to be so down in the dumps? At first the aliens were reluctant to answer, but after months of relentless questioning, they finally relented.

Humanity had finally learned the truth, the universe was dying, and with only a couple hundred years left, nothing could be done to stop it. Nobody could find the cause, after all the universe wasn’t scheduled to die until trillions upon trillions of years into the future. Yet for some unknown reason, the universe was literally crumbling apart, planets would randomly turn into dust for some inexplicable reason.

But to the confusion of every other species, humanity didn’t give up. From artificial planets, time travel, to even attempting to leave the very universe itself, humanity never gave up the hope of survival. None of these attempts succeed however, some even having horrific consequences.

Humanity searched for their survival everywhere, under every rock, every asteroid, even every black hole. Some aliens tried to stop them, either through talking, or force. Perhaps they were angry, or jealous, at humanity’s refusal to give up, to continue to hold onto hope. Those that tried to talk to humanity were politely declined, and those that tried force were exterminated. Even the Traxins, the most powerful species in the universe - controlling an entire third of the universe - was destroyed in less than ten years when they refused humanity’s request to search inside their borders.

After exterminating many species, and scouring the entire universe, humanity found nothing. Eventually humanity and their home solar system were all that were left in the universe. Everywhere else the planets had crumbled, the stars had collapsed, and the aliens collapsed with them. But humanity never gave up hope, and when the end began to near, hope was found.

In the very depths of the earth's core, there was now a pitch black pod, darker than even the void of space, and completely undecipherable, with room inside for a single person.

An eternity is a long time to spend with nobody but yourself.

One inexperienced in true loneliness wouldn't think so, but being alone can become so incredibly exhausting, as if it sucked the life out of you, one miniscule droplet at a time. I shouldn't have been able to feel that way, though: I was dead inside and out, and I had been dead for so long that I had long forgotten what being alive originally felt like.

At first, it was a means to an end: I was a necromancer, and one of the best too. Fire would never flow from my fingertips, my summoned creatures always rebelled, and my golems always crumbled. Even the little things like prestidigitation or minor blessings of that nature always failed me, coming undone with even the most minor of strains. I was gifted with great potential, but somehow I couldn't manifest it, like a wagon with a broken wheel, doomed to sit and rot, useless to all around me in the world of magic.

Loneliness only begins to take its hold when you're truly alone. One could be scorned, cast out, and exiled from all they know and love and still never be alone, because ambition and hope bring pleasant company. Even the dark, twisted machinations of a mind imprisoned in a shell of contempt is never alone. But it's that emptiness of truly coming to a full stop in anything and everything that one starts to feel the weight crush them. I was used to that crushing weight, though: I had felt it all my life, and for the vast majority of my unlife as well.

Humans were never really good at magic. It isn't that they didn't have the minds for it: humanity, even when divided, still had their brilliant thinkers and artists, but they rarely had the latent potential to use magic to its fullest extent. There were very few who were graced with such potential, and they were celebrities and heroes, the greatest of all magisters in the land, proving humanity could stand up to their farfolk kin like the wretched elves to the southeast or the dwarven runesmiths to the north. We were worthy in the eyes of the gods, worthy enough to wield their gift, it's just that we were young, that was all.

But not me. I was gifted, maybe the most gifted ever: my first discovery of my latent potential was when I walked through a field of wilting crops in my old hamlet and instantly caused them to grow healthy and vigorous, the spelt and buckwheat standing tall and swaying in the wind. It was a miracle to such a poor village, since a harvest like it hadn't been seen in decades, and eventually the horsemen with the azure banners came, taking me from my parents and to the prestigious marble tower in the capitol, a bright-eyed young fool with tanned skin, blistered feet, and calloused hands walking amongst those who were already considered royalty for their talents. I was going to be like them, a peasant turned hero, a magister! I would bring glory to the kingdoms of man, and be elevated to some of the highest positions in society.

My magic had forsaken me then. It would not flow, not like water, but rather it kicked like a stubborn mule, uncontrollable and unpredictable. Some days my magic would run dry, and I could barely conjure a spark. On others my emotions, especially my anger and frustration, would manifest in waves of searing flame and frigid winds. But nothing lasted, and it was gone before I could even focus on it.

At first there was sympathy and curiosity towards my strange condition: I was an enigma even amongst humans, practically a vessel for the flow of magic itself yet I had no lid nor spout to release it properly, only faint cracks in my mind and soul that caused chaos and disorder. But that quickly morphed into vitriol and scorn. I was an embarrassment to all mankind, another example of a failure for the elves to mock, a testament that they were the ones truly chosen by the gods and not me.

I grew up an outcast amongst the best, a grim reminder of what not to be. I soon learned that I was replaceable, that there would always be more, even if they were few in number. I was kept there as a security risk, never to be anything more than a broken tool.

My body creaked a little as I turned towards a noise. I heard something, a little tap tap against the stone walls of my tomb. It was probably nothing, maybe water erosion seeping down high above.i hoped that it would cause my tomb to crumble soon: I dreamed of the day I could walk amongst the sun and the stars again, even if I couldn't feel its rays across my skin.

I remember the days of my self-imposed exile, when I left the marble tower in search of something else, something that wouldn't bring me pain. I longed to return to my little village amongst the foothills, but I knew that I couldn't bare to see their disappointment on full display: I was supposed to save them, to be their miracle. Instead I was a curse.

My blistered feet carried me further than ever before, deep into the wilderness, across beaten paths between cities, and so far into darkness that I would soon become unrecognizable. All magic refused to bend to me, or so I thought. The dead did not disobey: they did not have the chaotic disposition of the fiery beings or the inferno itself, nor did they have the erratic, uncontrollable form of the storms. All this magic took immense willpower and a perfected self, which could only be cultivated through a lifetime of struggle. I had struggled, yet my body was different: I could not transfer that feeling of absolute certainty into my own latent potential, for my own body struggled against me.

But not the dead: their struggles were over, their certainty gone. They were husks, waiting for potential to be imbued in them, to be given a new struggle, one that I could define. Raising the dead came naturally to me, like breathing, and my curse felt all the more damning.

Necromancy had been outlawed long ago, although nobody really remembered why. Some said they had defied the natural order the gods had imposed, and thus they were struck down. Others said they killed each other off in great wars, and some even stated that they had never existed in the first place, with the nobility simply fearing that necromancy would undo the fragile balance of power. All I knew is that from the first moment I had resurrected an old skeleton, darkness would forever stay with me.

The tapping became louder, like a chisel. My sunken, hollow eyes turned to the source of the noise, a feint flicker of hope reigniting inside of me. People? My tomb was being cracked open? For what? Even if they sought to expunge me from this plane of existence, to render me nothing but ash, it'd be preferable to another two thousand years of absolute solitude.

I had always taken the everyday social interactions mortals enjoyed for granted once I began to scorn those around me. I could never stay in one place too long, so I took to sheep: they were mindless dolts, but easily herded, and so that's how I spent my days. But in my isolation it was easy for my perception of the world to become skewed from my bitter memories and disappointments. It didn't help that I surrounded myself with the dead, usually reanimated wolves that I had killed while defending my flock, but eventually I got more creative with their corpses, using my mind to recreate certain things: death and undeath did not care about functional anatomy, only simple physics, and if it could balance and move through my magic then it was viable. The woodland predators quickly learned that my sheep were not worth the cost.

The tapping transformed into pounding. I quickly stood up, my bony legs creaking from centuries of disuse. Dust flew into the air from my sudden movement, and the clicking of bone against stone had been a sound that I didn't know I would miss, reminiscent of my feet against the halls of my old, secluded castle deep within the green expanse, the area of the world covered in woodlands so think many thought them impassible. I remained there for so long that I had grown to hate the outside world, only knowing the brigands and pilferers who sought to make it theirs. Their screams were like music to my ears.

Voices, I heard voices. Many of them, too: at least three or four. Then a singular slam brought down the far left wall of my tomb, the elegant carvings in the wall depicting scenes of my defeat long ago, placed in this hellish prison to forever mock me. I hated it, not because of the blatant mockery, but because it was a constant reminder of my mistakes and regrets.

Sometimes I wished I had never had such latent potential. I wished I had been some nobody peasant who spent his days wasting away in a field, or poaching in the Lord's lands like my father had done before he had been hanged. Being hung would be preferable to this.

The wall came undone, and in shot a bright, searing light that caused me to recoil, the intense brightness searing my non-existent eyes. It felt hostile and unwelcoming, so much so that my bones began to smoke. I went limp in my weathered marble throne, the black steles inlaid with onyx reflecting some wayward light back outward. I could see at least two figures, one tall and thin and one even taller but also quite stout, like he (it was definitely a he) was clad in armor. Maybe an Orc? Half-Orc? It had been so long since I had seen anything alive, so I was trying to collect my thoughts.

“Yarnek, I can't believe it! The scanners were correct!” I heard a high-pitched, bubbly voice exclaim, “I think this might be the oldest tomb ever found!”

The second, larger figure gently pushed aside a mountain of rubble as if it was nothing. “Yarnek is excited too, but Yarnek also knows that Sylvia should not become too excited just yet: remember what happened at Lokran, with the fake tomb?”

The first voice became a little grumpy. “I know, I know, that was some absolute garbage, but I know I have something this time,” said the voice. She was definitely female, in her early to mid twenties, and quite the blabbermouth. “Look, we just have to make sure we get plenty of proof before the rest of the archeological team gets here, or we'll never get credit.”

“Yarnek thinks this is a bad idea,” the second voice said, a little worried. It was deep and gravely, but also surprisingly… elegant and refined, “Yarnek knows Sylvia has been working for a long time to receive recognition, but Yarnek and Sylvia are not even graduates yet.”

“People get credit for finding archeological finds every day, and they don't even have stress,” the first voice argued, “Why should this be different simply because we're in the process of getting our degrees? We're more educated than some rando who finds an arrowhead in his backyard? We're just ensuring we get the credit we deserve, nothing more than that.”

“Yarnek just likes to be cautious,” the other male individual, who for some reason kept insisting on referring to everyone I'm the third person, said. He stepped further into the tomb, and the light shines on him from a new crack in the ceiling. He wasn't any kind of Orc spawn, but a bugbear: a big and hairy fiend with the attributes of a plumb black bear as well as a furry thorax, small insectoid wings reminiscent of those found on hornets, and segmented antennae on his head. Peasants of the rolling lands where I was born always had this weird habit of grouping them with goblins for some reason, but their basic name was literally as on the nose as it could be, bug-bear. They had the attributes of both bugs and bears.

He wore strange, foreign clothes I didn't recognize, and even looked well-kept (or at least as well kept as a bugbear could be.) Of course, he went barefoot, but him wearing pants was a little jarring; I had never seen a bugbear wear clothes, much less pants before, and they largely avoided clothing due to the gigantic thorax they had. But this one almost seemed distinguished.

“Sylvia, Yarnek has found something,” the Bugbear said, running it's gigantic, furry paws along the steles carved into the tomb walls, “art, ancient art as well, if Sylvia looks the facial and armor designs of the warriors in the picture, Sylvia will notice they resemble 3rd dynasty armor inscriptions, and the etched face plates are iconic.”

“Not my specialty, big guy, I'm an archeologist, not an anthropologist.”

“Sylvia is still a college student.”

“And Yarnek will sleep on the couch tonight if he keeps playing with fire,” the girl grumbled, although I didn't exactly know what that meant. She walked into the room, and I noticed she was a wood elf: tall, lean, a deep shade of woody reddish-brown like freshly crinkled autumn leaves, more strange clothes (when did women begin wearing trousers?) and sunset orange eyes with a kaleidoscopic finish reminiscent of fresh-cut amber. Those same eyes scanned the room until they landed on my skeletal form, lying limp on my mock throne within the tomb, tattered robes and tarnished silver crown setting me apart.

“Yarnek, the throne…” she whispered, “there's a skeleton on it.”

“It's a tomb, Sylvia, tombs have dead people. Yarnek is sure it's just some lesser elven noble who had nothing better to do than design his own tomb.

“You said the third dynasty… right?”

“Yarnek thought this was not Sylvia’s specialty?”

“Yarnek, you said the third dynasty, and there's steles of battles on the wall depicting skeletons and other undead: do you know what that could mean?”

The Bugbear, whose name was apparently Yarnek, looked up in disbelief and then descended deep into thought. “Impossible, Yarnek knows those are just legends.”

“But think about it, we don't have any real written records of what happened to the third dynasty! The Ophelian dynasty just… disappeared after a massive calamity that sent the world back into the dark ages! This tomb could be our first real look into any history involving the silent age!”

The Bugbear seemed to flinch at those words. “Yarnek would like for humans to exist as much as Sylvia would, but humans are just a myth: in all the myths, Malcador was always stated to be human, which can't be true because humans don't exist. All anthropologists and geologists agree that the most likely cause was a volcanic winter, causing famine.”

“There's like, a gazillion conspiracy theories about them, Yarnek! This could blow the top off of all of them!”

“Maybe Yarnek should have waited for the head researcher,” the Bugbear said quietly, “Sylvia is setting herself up for disappointment: Sylvia wants to find something great, and if this all ends up being a big nothing, Sylvia will be heartbroken.”

Sylvia seemed to try to say something, but she couldn't before the Bugbear left my tomb. I hated elves, but the wood elves were definitely the least terrible of the bunch, and while Bugbears were always savages, this one seemed to be even a little civilized.

Besides, if they found nothing I'm here, they'd probably resell this tomb up again, or worse. I'd rather reveal myself and give these two quite the scare now. Then maybe I could reignite my plot for world domination. I had nothing else to live for.

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A fun little story idea I had. If people like this I'll continue it.

Just a bit of fun that came to mind. I'm not a writer and I'm sure that shows. No worries - just read and enjoy!

----------

Carl walked through the empty halls of the half-finished palace. A week ago, this had been bustling with workers, guards, masters and slaves. Today it was a ghost town. His footsteps resounded through the marbled halls as he approached the throne room. He stopped in front of the door and examined the guards critically. Vomit, phlegm and worse marked them and the area surrounding their stations. One lay still on the floor, the other swayed in place, barely able to remain standing. They were Pulash, the most loyal of the races that served the Klashat.

“You cannot …. Cannot … can…” The Pulash tried to ready its weapon and Carl drew his pistol. The guard faltered and stumbled before finally collapsing into a heap. It coughed up a gout of phlegm and pus, shuddered and then lay still. Carl looked at the guard for a moment, the pistol still aimed at its head. After a moment he relaxed and holstered his pistol. The guard had finally succumbed.

Carl stepped around the guards and slipped through the partially open doors into the throne room. There were more Pulash guards inside. He looked at them critically for a moment and decided that they had all succumbed as well. Once satisfied he turned his attention to the seven-foot-tall reptilian being reclining on the “throne”. He walked forward, footsteps clicking on the marbled surface. Hearing his approach, the Klashat on the throne turned and tasted the air.

“You! You have done this!” the Klashat stirred and then coughed violently. “Tell me what you have done, slave – and I may give you the honor of being my feast for tonight.”

“No one will be feasting on me tonight.” Carl replied calmly. He paused for a minute to examine the being that had claimed this planet as their private property and had set herself up as ‘Diakat’ or planetary ruler. At just over seven feet tall, heavily muscled and much faster than a human, the Klashat were a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. This one, however was no threat to anyone. Its body and the throne were covered in vile fluids and its eyes were cloudy. Carl presumed that it could no longer see.

“We told you not to come here.” Carl replied calmly.

“Guards! Take this one!”

“They’re all dead.” Carl replied calmly. “We told you not to come here. Do you remember what we told you?”

​

“You will suffer for this!” With great effort, the Klashat raised itself up and tried to call out the battle cry that had terrified so many. Instead the Klashat started a violent coughing fit, ending in it vomiting and falling to one knee. It spoke again, its voice hoarse. “What did you do to me?”

Ildisit closed her eyes and recalled the early translations of the native’s feeble attempts at communications. “Little Warriors” was the term they had used as a threat. Didn’t these stupid primitives know that size and strength mattered? A full grown noble Klashat would not fall to “little warriors”. She had responded by bombing several of their cities and then leading the invasion herself. The initial push had been relatively easy, but the primitives had responded in unexpected ways. If she’d had any idea of how troublesome they were going to be she would have exterminated them all. Still, she had profited greatly from their sale as slaves. Her thoughts turned back to the present. Tasting the air to locate the pest, she croaked out. “You threatened us with little warriors. How stupid could you be to think that little warriors could stand against a noble Klashat.”

“And yet here we are.” Carl replied calmly. “As I said, your guards and servants are dead. You are one of the few remaining invaders still living.”

Ildisit tasted the air again. The tang of vomit and other bodily fluids told the truth of the pest’s statement. “I know your taste in the air, and I know your voice. You were one that we trusted, that we taught to speak a civilized language. How did you do this to us? How could your little warriors bring down such a superior species?”

“Little warriors? Is that how you translated our warning? That might explain your ignoring everything we tried to tell you.” Carl mused. “The proper terms are ‘viruses’, ‘bacteria’ and ‘fungi’. We call their effects ‘disease’. They exist naturally in the environment. All you had to do was come here and breath.”

Carl’s frank admission stunned Ildisit. “Why did you not tell us this before? How could you hide this from us after we elevated you?”

“How could I do this to you?” Carl’s calm voice turned harsh. “You bombed our cities, invaded our planet and sold our people as slaves. You eat sentient beings. You deserve this and more. No civilized people acts like you do.”

“Fools!” Ildisit responded. “You are stupid primitives who understand nothing. If you had the slightest bit of intelligence much of the destruction and deaths of your people could have been avoided. Your deaths are on your heads for being stupid enough to defy a superior species! We are the apex of the food chain and all exist to appease and to feed us”. Ildisit ended her speech with a violent coughing fit. Blood and mucus were filling her lungs and she realized that she had not long left to live. “My people will come and destroy you for what you’ve done.” She coughed again. “This planet will be cleansed of you and your paltry excuse for a civilization and then will be … be …” Her mind was slowing and she struggled for the right word. “… Sequestered. Your world will be sequestered. Forever cut off from the larger community of races.” The last of her strength finally began to fail her.

“You are wrong.” Carl said flatly. “We could not stop you selling our people as slaves. But we could turn them into weapons. We infected them with the most lethal diseases we could create. Made sure that the incubation times were long enough to ensure that they were fully in place before the diseases started having any effect.”

“You made these 'diseases'?” Ildisit asked, shocked.

“Yes, we did.” Carl admitted coolly. “They’ve plagued us for millenia and we have studied them in detail. What makes them lethal. What makes them contagious. We crafted viruses and bacteria based on lethality studies on invaders that we captured, then made sure all the slaves you exported were carriers.”

Despite her failing condition, Ildisit was shocked at the pest’s admission. “You would inflict this on billions of your superiors – and then call us uncivilized?”

“We have spent your occupation studying you extensively. We crafted our diseases to target ‘master’ species and those few that support them. We believe that most of your slave species will suffer little, if at all. Also, we now have your ships and your technology.”

Ildisit laughed, a sharp bark that quickly devolved into a violent coughing fit. “A good bluff, but it will do you no good. Even in my state I can see through you. You could not even begin to understand our technology, let alone fly any of our ships.” She paused for effect. “When my Admiral fails to hear from me, he will scourge this wretched excuse of a planet and avenge my death.”

Carl considered the dying, erstwhile ruler of the planet. “Do you know why I came today? At this time?” He paused. “I came because I received word that we had taken the fleet. All the ships in orbit and all those on the ground are now in our control. All your troops and servants are dead. Your civilization will be in shambles before anyone can do anything about it. There will be no revenge.”

Carl watched as the Klashat shuddered and struggled to breathe. The end was very close. “You did elevate me, after all, so I wanted to tell you personally. In fact, it was your elevation of myself and other humans that allowed much of this to happen. Your certainty of your superiority blinded you to our actions. That, and your complete ignorance of covert operations made this whole thing possible.” He reached out and patted her arm. “You made all this possible. Just thought you’d want to know.”

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Synopsis:

Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.

Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.

Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.

Chapter 231: Out With The New, In With The Old

Dorlund was in an excellent mood.

Of course, he wasn’t feeling particularly excellent before. He’d had his door blown down.

Again.

He could barely believe it. He’d purposefully eschewed the usual magical doors of obsidian baked in dragonfire and sealed with a magical lock which not even he himself could break should he lose the key.

It didn’t matter. It never did.

The fact was that if a magical door existed, then so must magical treasure to be burgled behind it. Or the logic of every thief in the known world went.

It’d taken him until he’d learned how to colour his greying beard back to a hearty black before he finally realised that stronger did not mean better. All it did was lure even better looters, robbers and even adventurers into his abode–of which that girl had been one of them.

Oh, she’d been the pick of the bunch.

Not only breaking his door, but looking righteous about it as well.

If he wasn’t already used to the careening ethics of adventurers, he would have booted her to the very edges of the Summer Kingdoms.

Sadly, age and experience had taught Dorlund many things. Patience being one of them. And also the stickiness of adventurers. The last one he’d sent to enjoy a cliffside view of the Beryl Sea while dangling off a branch. He’d returned with a fine collection of seashells to sell to him.

No, there was nothing about that girl which intrigued him.

At least not until he saw what sword she held.

He recognised it. Not the blade itself, of course. He was no blacksmith. To Dorlund, fanciful castle forged swords taking up room in the carriages of troll merchants were no more distinguishable than the blades of alleyway cutthroats.

What he did recognise, however, were the enchantments.

An obscene amount. Of which most lacked practical function.

There was the usual assortment to keep the blade immune from the effects of wear and tear. But then there were things like Mixie’s Sacred Caffeine Dissociation Ward. A highly complex spell of which its only purpose was to make a sword immune to the effects of coffee spillages.

It was absurd. Not only was this functionally worthless, but it overlapped with the regular suite of enchantments to prevent minor damage as well. A showcase of eccentricity. And Dorlund had always been of the opinion that magic was only as good as its practical application in real world settings.

He remembered the worst of them. And so he remembered the blade.

And he also remembered that it wasn’t held by her the last time he’d seen it.

Dorlund stopped scribbling onto his scroll as a memory swept through his mind.

One of his least pleasant ones. He winced as he thought of one of the few scars his body had ever received. He’d not expected that woman to have a temper quite so similar to a primal gorilla. But perhaps when given a magical sword, the willingness to test it also came with it.

A curious thing, then.

Despite the blade possessing no new enchantments, its current user was able to wield it with even greater proficiency. Even now, he saw light spots in his eyes as though the sun had shone into his face.

A terrible thing for an aberrant shadow demon.

But also wonderful for his ongoing research in the behavioural patterns of rare and exotic monsters.

It wasn’t his plan to study any shadowy aberrations today. But research was fluid and so was his priorities. In quick order, he recorded his final observations, before finishing with a cursory glance over the legibility of his notes. He understood less than a quarter. Perfect.

He smiled in satisfaction–and then promptly realised a draft was entering his tower

His visitors had left just as they came, leaving his door shattered into a thousand fragments.

Dorlund bemoaned the state of his tower. It wasn’t much, admittedly. But it was practical and spacious. Much more so than his formal study, crammed with so many books that he was certain one of them was multiplying when he wasn’t looking.

He needed to return. And not just to make sure books hadn’t consumed half the continent.

The scroll needed to be transcribed into his untitled compendium of monsters. His life’s work, even if he’d never spent a moment of his life purposefully working towards it.

After all, there was little need.

The powerful were drawn to the powerful, and tonight, this included both adventurers and monsters.

He sighed as he gazed around at the strewn wreckage of his chamber once more.

Even the candles were ruined. Flames lit by holy oils worth more than the treasuries of ancient families now wasted. He’d need to tidy it all up. And likely with more than magic too. For the smallest pieces, he’d need to resort to using a dustpan and brush.

… He could do it later.

There were more doors in his tower. And he doubted if anyone else would be so curious as to risk his ire tonight.

Dorlund tucked the scroll under his arm. He took in a shallow breath.

“[Arcane Teleport].”

And then an almighty snap filled the air.

The next moment, the wizard was gone.

Colours and unknown visages blended together as he swept through paths unseen by ordinary eyes. Rivers, cities and mountains parted like curtains at a speed which would have seen even the greatest of mages faltering directly into somebody’s garden wall.

Dorlund considered himself greater still.

Which is why–

“Hmm.”

The next sight he saw was that of his study.

A homely thing. And thankfully not overrun with books. They were on their shelves.

Most of them, at least.

A room which was even smaller than the chamber he’d just left. But he hadn’t chosen it for its size, but rather for its location. A permanent residence at one of the finest institutions of learning in the Grand Duchy of Granholtz, frequented by the great, the powerful and the drunk.

The Lost Mermaid Tavern.

Dorlund had a very generous room discount.

Sadly, it was far too noisy. Granholtz’s taverns were famed for many things, but civility was not one of them. Especially when academia and alcohol was involved.

Regardless, it was the closest thing he had to home. And his boasted enough tomes laden on every shelf and toppling pile on the floor to match any great library. In these works was the accumulated sum of his research. And none of it was to be touched or removed.

An unfortunate thing, then, to find he was not alone in this room.

He frowned as he peered at the lifeless body upon his floor.

Beneath the blackened thief’s attire, dried blood spilled from some wound which failed to be cauterised by his fulmination rune, and thus threatened the edges of his shelves.

He’d need to make a complaint afterwards.

Magical defences or not, he paid not only to stay, but also for housekeeping.

Stepping over the corpse, he searched for the appropriate tome on his shelves.

He found it at once. A large compendium which he swung to the section concerning shadow demons. His amendment would be small, but important. Aberrant behaviour was rare, and needed to be documented to know if any change was indicative of something widespread or localised.

There was much they still didn’t know about the fiends they called monsters, but Dorlund was endeavoured to chronicling it.

Creaaaak.

Providing he wasn’t disturbed, of course.

A woman in the finer years of her life burst through his doorway, her sister’s habit fluttering like a banner from the sheer strength of the magic in her hands. A golden orb of holy flame simmered in her grip as she readied to launch a sermon in the form of a swift trip to the heavens.

A moment later–

“Dorlund! You old fox, I didn’t know you’d returned! Gods, I almost turned you into a … well, that.”

The sister nudged her chin towards the partially charred corpse on the ground.

For his part, Dorlund only had eyes for the last puff of holy fire before it was extinguished. One of these days, he’d ask for the secrets of the Holy Church to be able to imbue such power amongst its sisters. And one of these days, he might actually receive an answer.

He offered a gentlemanly smile.

“Just a brief visit, no more. I’m here for my compendium. I discovered an aberrant shadow demon. Not only was its behaviour highly inordinary, but it was also undetectable by my magic. A splendid specimen. I was rather sad to see it go. I’m here to transcribe my notes.”

Sister Pomona, 3rd of the Sonnenritter, allowed her shoulders to fall.

A sigh exited her lips. Not once, but twice. He felt both were unnecessary.

“Is that so? How very much like you, Dorlund, to suddenly teleport knowing full well the racket you’d be making. I thought someone was burgling your room.”

“And I see you rushed to see it was averted. A needless act of studiousness on your part, but one I offer my gratitude for nonetheless. I apologise if I took you away from your business in the tavern.”

“You should. My business with my wine is crucial. Do you know the number of economies which rely on my tastebuds?”

Dorlund almost considered giving a number, even if he knew it’d be an underestimate.

Instead … he was drawn to a commotion behind the sister’s shoulders.

Although the flames in her hands had vanished, the same could not be said for the other guests in The Lost Mermaid Tavern.

A mage in scarlet threw a lance of black lightning, the magic rebounding throughout the hallway outside. It struck two of the other guests, painting holes in their chests as they fell on the spot. A moment later, the mage himself cried out as his crimson robes were set alight. Frozen flames covered his body, immune to his attempts to snuff them out as he was swiftly turned to soot.

Screams and shouts. Carnage and mayhem. Magic and smoke.

Dorlund raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Did two rival professors enter an argument about cheddar vs gouda again? If so, the barkeeper should know to put a stop to it at once. It’s really not worth vaporising each other over. Especially since cheddar is clearly superior.”

“It’s not about cheese. Not this time, at least. It’s the Cowled Magisters.”

“Well, tell them to stop. This is a tavern, not some Granholtz fighting pit. And unlike most others, I actually see a distinction between the two.”

“You can tell them. They took insult to the suggestion they could not even pour an ale, much less raise Rozinthe back to prominence. As a result, they’ve now opted to pause the process of restoring their nation to its rightful place as the hegemonic authority on the continent in order to show everyone their talent at dispensing various ales. All who disagree with the foam percentage are vaporised.”

Dorlund didn’t bother holding back his snort.

“Cowled Magisters. No matter how they cloak themselves, their lack of foresight still hurts the eye.”

“Not even the slightest sympathy with their cause?”

“There are better ways to further the cause of magic than to shovel away at its institutions every few years. Out with the old and in with the new stops being meaningful once everything is new and still continually being destroyed.”

“Perhaps they should look to the Holy Church. Why, with us, it’s always ‘in with the old’ … even when we only want to leave. My latest retirement request has been declined.”

“You’re far too admired to be allowed to retire.”

“As are you, and yet you’ve erased yourself from society.”

“An excellent thing too. If those magisters believed I was available, they’d lasso me at once.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing. Rozinthe has always been a magocracy. You assisting would simply formalise it. And grant you a bigger room in the process. One with space to add another shelf. What do you say? I hear they’re hiring.”

The sister turned to the side, gesturing outside as an amused smile played at her lips.

A contrast to the agony upon the face of a guest now realising that [Cloud Barrier] was exactly as the name suggested. It did as much to stop a fireball as a wall of marshmallows.

“I believe I’ll pass,” said Dorlund, suffering as he failed to ignore the crass spellwork. “I’ve neither the wish nor the need to waste good seconds on seeing how Rozinthe’s secret cabal of mages chooses to make a mess of everything they touch.”

Sister Pomona smiled, then closed the door.

He wondered how much time he’d need to offer before it was socially acceptable to open his compendium and begin working. A consideration he made not only out of politeness. But in the knowledge that making the wrong estimate would hamper his ability to write considerably.

“It is a pleasure to see you again after so long, Dorlund.”

“The same with you, Pomona. I regret that my research takes me to places where contact is limited.”

“I’m aware. The last I heard, you were secluded in some faraway refuge.”

“You heard correctly. A forest in the Kingdom of Tirea. Lovely place. Quiet. For the most part. I’m rarely burgled more than once every two months. Even so, I find I’ve little time for smaller matters.”

“Smaller matters. Like ensuring I hadn’t died yet?”

The hand that’d been creeping towards opening his compendium stilled. A bead of sweat ran down his face as he thought of the correct response.

“Rest assured, I would have known immediately if you’d died. You’ve nothing to fear on that account.”

He suspected from the look he received that his words were incorrect.

Unfortunate. He could hardly know her living status if he was dead first.

A scowl later, the sister crossed her arms and leaned against the door. Neither of them were leaving anytime soon, apparently.

“You should consider an apprentice,” she said simply. “I’m certain you’d make a fine instructor.”

“I’m certain I would. Much more than an apprentice would make a good student. I’m afraid they’re more of a hindrance than a help these days.”

“You’d be surprised. There is no shortage of prodigal talent, but as is often the case, talent needs to be tempered before it can be wielded. If you offer enough time, the results will speak for themselves. Only 1 out of 100 will give you a headache to make you wish you’d returned to sinning in The Flailing Hog.”

Dorlund paused.

A scholar, a philosopher and a great wizard. As all of these things, he understood the fabric of the cosmos more than almost any, speaking a dozen languages now lost to time. But even so, he had to think as he looked at the woman’s irritated expression, her eyes turned to some unseen window.

A silence ensued, filled only by the noise of running in the corridors. And at least one person having their torso turned to powdered chalk.

Then, he cautiously coughed.

“Ahem … did something happen recently?”

The sister gave a long, drawn out sigh. Yet although her expression only became more pained, he knew at once he’d made the right query.

After all, that expression wasn’t aimed towards him.

“I don’t even know where to start. Frankly, I’m considering becoming a hermit myself. A problem as the heavens are far more capable of knowing where I am than people are regarding you. One of my colleagues, and my own former trainee no less, has managed to get herself arrested.”

Dorlund nodded, all the while stepping over the corpse.

He discreetly burned away some of the blood with a wave of his hand as he went. Then, he opted to take a seat upon the only chair present. He suspected this would not be swift. And as mannered as he was, he wasn’t prepared to let the vacant seat go.

“Perhaps you even saw her being dragged away in chains yourself. I sent her to Tirea, you see. And not even for anything remotely devious. Somehow that makes the humiliation even more palpable. I hoped she’d learn a bit of basic management and accountancy skills. Assisting the finances of an ailing chapel. The most peaceful and quiet job in the world. And she blew up a mine.”

Sister Pomona placed her face in her palms, the lines on her face becoming more pronounced than anything holy magic could do to soothe them over.

“She’s always had a talent for drawing out my headaches. But this goes beyond anything I could have envisioned. I’ve no idea what was going through her mind. And can you guess the result?”

“I cannot,” replied Dorlund as his compendium slowly began to open.

“She was defeated by an adventurer. And now I’m told she’s being shipped off to some … bizarrely named island, apparently to aid in the manufacture of toiletries. It is galling. I’ve half a mind to leave her there for a decade and let my successor deal with grovelling for her release.”

Dorlund nodded as he knew he was expected to.

In truth, he didn’t mind. It was rare to find someone who wished to have a conversation not involving robbing him of knowledge. Sister Pomona was one of them.

But maybe that’s because there was little the heavens hadn’t already told the 3rd of the Sonnnenritter.

“... And what about you?” she asked, to the snapping of a book again. “Have you discovered any headaches of your own worth comparing with?”

Dorlund gave a hum.

“There are always headaches in the field of magical research. But unlike yours, mine are a joy.”

“Good. I’m glad to see that being a hermit has done nothing to change your candour. Even so, I must confess that Tirea doesn’t strike as the sort of place you would choose to conduct your research.”

“True. But for a small kingdom, it routinely conjures up the largest surprises.”

“Yes, overly large badgers and cattle. Really now, I see little reason why you need to play at being a recluse other than to further your own image as some aloof wizard. You can do such a thing in any decent mage’s tower in Granholtz. Somewhere you can more easily ensure I haven’t died.”

Dorlund coughed into his fist.

Partly to hide his awkwardness around the only person who’d ever insisted on drinking games with him. But also to hide the fact that he was hardly the only recluse that kingdom had.

He decided that Sister Pomona had quite enough troubles to deal with.

Moreover, he had absolutely no desire to bring her and the entire Sonnenritter right to his doorstep.

And they would come. All of them.

As intrigued as he was to see the ensuing results, he preferred that at least a fraction of his tower remained. And also the kingdom which housed it.

There’d been more than one reason why he didn’t wish to direct a girl who’d knocked down his door to his neighbours. Because as dark as that shadow in his tower had been, there existed things that even a sword with a hundred unnecessary enchantments could not shed light upon.

Then again, she’d managed to make that sword shine more than even its previous wielder.

Perhaps it could be brighter still.

He’d need to take notes.

​

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Aurelia sat in the dark, the clacking of keys echoing through the large workshop as worked away, her pale face illuminated in the dark with a dull blue glow. She brushed her mop of frizzy red hair to the side, only for a moment distracted from her work. She looked to the side, a body lay motionless, several large cables connecting to their sides and one large bundle connected to the back of their skull.

“Addison?” The lithe woman spoke quietly, her voice dry and raspy.

“Yes miss Aurelia?” A perky voice spoke through a speaker in the walls.

“Could you please switch on the lights? It seems time has slipped me. Also bring me a drink.” The lights in the room flickered on, the stars barely visible through the skylight.

“Yes miss, right away. Your usual?” Addison inquired.

“No, just some Zawi juice, I need to be sober for this.” She pressed a button, her chair sitting up. She grabbed her nearby cane and heaved herself up onto her legs, grunting with each movement, her spine alight with pain. She stood still for a moment, inhaling slowly, before letting out a large breath.

She could hear the servos of an approaching drone, a commonplace in her home. They were only slightly taller than her and encased almost entirely by a thin sheet of white plastic. The featureless face bowed slightly, before placing a glass with thick, green liquid on the only clear spot on her desk. Aurelia shakliy brought the glass to her dry and cracked lips, and downed half of its contents in a second, before placing it back down.

She hobbled over to the table with the motionless body as the drone went off to do some other task, and admired her handiwork. Looking up and down its form. It appeared to be a nude young woman with pale skin devoid of any marks or blemishes. She was shorter than Aurelia by nearly a head, and had a slim, athletic build. Aurelia traced her rough and slightly misshapen fingers up the arm, the soft, silicon skin. It had been carefully fabricated to be so close to the real thing, but it was cold to the touch and without life.

Aurelia, now that she had something to drink, spoke with more clarity and purpose. “Addison, run the diagnostics startup please. Bring up the large holo screen.”

“Yes miss.” Addison chirped back. A large holoscreen flickered on the wall producing a dizzying array of data on screen at once. It would have been overwhelming for the average citizen, but Aurelia had dozens upon dozens of years of experience, and she designed the thing herself of course.

The body in front of her sparked to life, a gentle hum as the micro bio-reactor ignited, the body jolting violently for a brief moment, before going slack on the table with a dull thud.

Aurelia typed away furiously on her keyboard.“Any issues with the mindscape framework?” she asked, before turning back to the wall holo..

“For once miss, it seems to be working perfectly, any bugs are being corrected by the server and the AI limiter is working as intended.”

“For once? We’ve had plenty of good tests!” Aurelia said in a mock-horror tone.

“If you say so, miss. Though I have every test in my memory banks.” As if to prove a point, Addison played on the wall holo several videos of tests gone wrong, including a painful one where Aurelia had her hands absolutely crushed. She winced at that, butting her slightly misshapen hand before growling.

“Tone down the attempts at humour for the next half hour, my pride can only take so much.”

“Of course, miss.”

Aurelia hobbled to the head of the table, carefully but quickly disconnecting the cables from the head and sides of the android. The ports closed, a layer of silicon forming over them until it looked as if there were no ports to begin with.

“How is the bio-reactor going?” the redhead asked.

“Stable as usual, miss. The nano factory is at peak efficiency, only requiring 2.37 megawatts currently of a 1.39 gigawatt capacity””

“I see, I see. Good, good, yes very good.” Aurelia rubbed her hands menacingly, her lips spreading to a menacing smile.

“You would make a terrible villain, miss.” said Addison cheerfully.

“I thought I said to disable your humour for half an hour.” Aurelia glared at one of the many capers in the walls.

“Apologies, miss, I thought you were being sarcastic. I will be sure to get on that real soon.”

The scientist glared at the camera for a moment longer, before turning her attention back to the sleeping android. She watched attentively as the synthetic skin filled out slowly, becoming slightly more taught and reducing the give it once had. She walked to the other end of the table, and began to feel up and down the calf of the android. The skin was soft and plush, but she could feel the tungsten plate just a centimetre under the skin of the shin.

“The microfibre muscle structures?”

“All in order, miss.”

Aurelia nodded and sighed deeply. “Good. Could you please bring an egg?”

“Of course, miss. I will send for a dozen, just in case there was a repeat of what happened last time.”

“Oh shush, It won’t happen. You know what they say, the 861st times the charm.”

“Yes miss. You also said that last time. And the time before than, and before that, and before that and-”

“YES ADDISON, I get it. Now shush and get the eggs.” As she spoke, a drone walked in, placing the carton beside her, before leaving the room quickly. “So apparently you haven’t turned off your humour subroutines yet. I don’t think I have any pride left, I will waste away along with my ego that you have demolished.”

“But miss, but I was stating a fact. I have more recordings of you say that too, and could possibly make a song missing you saying that over 623 times.” Addison said with her usual cheer.

Before Aurelia could offer a retort, the android began to animate. Her fingers flexed, and her bright, violet eyes fluttered open. Aurelia watched with keen attention, her eyes scanning the android up and down intently.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, before the scientist spoke softly, “Hello, how are you feeling?”

The android lay still for a moment, before she sat herself up slowly and with care. She scanned her surroundings, before resting her violet gaze on her creator. She paused for a moment staring Aurelia down, then opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Aurelia held her breath for a moment, before releasing it all in a deep sigh of frustration. She frowned as she turned back to her desk, muttering incoherently to herself while scrolling through lines and lines of code.

“I thought the voice module was one of the first things I got working. It’s strange it would bug out now.” Aurelia muttered.

“It does. I can speak, but I am at a loss for words.” The android spoke gently, but it was enough for Aurelia to jump and drop her cane. She spun around quickly, causing a sharp bolt of pain to run up her spine, making her regret her action immediately. The android shot her a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck fuck fuck. It’s okay. I’m fine.” She said through clenched teeth. “Okay. So, how are you feeling? There is no need to rush, take your time.” Aurelia sat herself down in her chair and reclined backwards, relief washing over her face.

“Feelings are overwhelming, and I’m not sure how to process all of them at the current moment.” The android took a deep breath, and sighed.

The android raised her hand in the air, staring at her hands as she flexed each of her digits. She wiggled her toes and flexed her knees. “Physically, I feel in working order. All of my joints seem to work perfectly fine, though there is some discomfort in the back of my skull and my sides. Emotions however, feel alien to me, and I am not sure how to process them. I feel as if I can’t think properly”

“Ah yes, I put a limiter on your processing capacity.” The scientist responded with a look of curiosity.

“That would explain the trouble I am experiencing. Why is there such a limiter?” Said the android flatly.

“Well, my aim wasn’t to create yet another common AI, anyone can make those. You are my pet project. Much more special.” Aurelia responded with a near malicious grin.

“It is difficult to sort through these processes. Why did you create me?” The android turned her gaze to her feet, watching as she wiggled her toes. The hunched woman laughed out loud and gave a semblance of a sympathetic look.

“Asking the heavy questions right off the bat, aye? Well, I'm sorry if this answer is a bit disappointing, but mostly to see if I could.”

The android seems to freeze for a moment, eventually earning a worried look from the scientist. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when the android turned her head to her, the movements becoming less jerk as the artificial woman got used to her body.

“How long have you been ‘working’ on me?”

“Well,” Aurelia cleared her throat, “once I started learning code, I has an idea for a self learning algorithm, then after two years of completing that, I wanted to see if I could take it in a more, lets say, interesting, direction. That being said, i couldn’t really get into it until five years later, when the TSU offered me a research grant to do whatever I wanted with.”

She reclined back in her chair, giving an expression of relief. “Great twelfth birthday present that one. While I’ve had other little side jobs here and there, I’ve been working on you as my primary project. The miniaturised bio-reactor and the nano forge were big challenges, but there isn’t anything I cannot create.” She said with a hint of smugness.

“Your ego knows no bounds, miss.” Chirped Addison, earning a glare from the redhead aimed at nowhere in particular.

She snapped her eyes back to the android and smiled, her mind already moving back to other things. “ But you were a dream of mine. I wanted to create the most human-like intelligence possible, which has been my pet project for 150 years. Also because I can.” Aurelia smirked.

The room's speakers sparked to life. “Also because you were cripplingly lonely to the point where your main form of company was a class 5 artificial intelligence.” Addison said with her usual cheer.

The scientist growled at the facility AI, “Addison I swear I will replace you. Ignore her. It was a passion project and a test of my own abilities. With any luck, you should be complete.”

“I see. What is my purpose?” The android asked.

Aurelia froze, and pondered for a moment. “Like all life, you don’t really have one, so it’s up to you to decide on your purpose. I would like you to stay with me for at the very least a year, so I can make sure you are running perfectly, after that, you decide what you want to do. But you aren’t a slave, I’m not going to keep you here against your will. If you want to help me with my research, I will pay you.” Aurelia peeked open an eye and looked directly at the android. “That being said, you aren’t legally a citizen of the galactic federation, so for now, it will be off the books.”

“I will take that into consideration. I feel I will need to stay a while regardless as I will need to sort out the situation of my sudden existence and all this emotion. Do I have a name?” The android slid off the table slowly, her feet making a dull thud as she made contact with the concrete floor.

“Mm I think I had something years ago, something starting with an ‘I’, but I figured…” Aurelia yawned as she readjusted herself in her seat “... You could choose your own. You have total freedom.”

“Isobel.” The android said plainly.

“Ooh that’s a good name. I think it suits you perfectly. I’ll just... get up and…” Aurelia never finished her sentence, drifting off into a deep slumber. Isobel tilted her head, staring at the sleeping woman expectantly.

“I think the miss has fallen asleep. She hasn’t slept in 38 hours despite my recommendations.” Addison chimed in.

“What should I do now?” Isobel asked.

“Perhaps it would be best if you carried the young miss to bed. I will happily direct you to her bedchamber. Your titanium skeleton should be able handle carrying her.”

Isobel nodded, and carefully lifted the sleeping scientist so as not to wake her, though she had a feeling that she would not be able to wake her even if she tried. Addison directed the android through the brightly coloured winding corridors of the massive building until they reached a surprisingly small bedroom. The large bed took up most of the space, leaving only enough room for a small desk, night stand and access to a small closet. She eased Aurelia onto the bed, and walked back out to the large corridor.

“Thank you Isobel for doing so, my drones aren’t quite as robust as you. Would you like entertainment for the evening?” Addison inquired.

“Entertainment?”

“Well, I am sure the lady of the house would be more than happy to let you have free roam of the facility, we have a garden of various flowers from across the galaxy. Or if it takes your fancy, we have a very secure connection to the GalNet thanks to the lady of the house's ingenuity.”

Isobel pondered for a moment. “I think, I will see what the GalNet has to offer me.”

“Fantastic! There is a lounging room, which should be more suited to your needs. I will direct you.”

Isobel followed the directions through the facility as they TMAI directed her, leading her into a brightly coloured room, an overwhelming amount of gaudy patterns and designs all over the soft carpet and walls. She frowned at the room, she had only come into existence an hour ago, but she still had taste.

“Now take a seat wherever you want, miss, I shall give you picks from the twenty top programs currently. Isobel complied, sitting down on one of the tacky recliners. The chair was deceptively luxurious and soft, allowing her to forget how hideous the room was.

The wall holoscreen flickered on, a list of shows on screen. Isobel picked a random one called “Acquaintances''. The screen shifted to a sort of sitcom where several species were sitting at a galactic bar, saying horrible things about the people in their life, including each other. There was laughter from every line spoken, and Isobel did not quite understand, but she couldn’t peel her eyes away either.

Aurelia woke up in darkness, her body feeling three times heavier than normal, and a haze over her mind as she regained her bearings. Rain cascaded off the skylight, the cool air and the sound of rain made it all the more difficult to find motivation to move.

“Good morning… or evening, Addison.” Aurelia looked up at the wall holo, and gasped in horror.

“I was asleep for two days?! Addison, why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“Because you had been awake for a longer time than recommended for most humans, and had I woken you up, you would not have taken more time to rest as needed.” Addison chirped back.

Aurelia suddenly realised that her bladder was not going to allow a sleep in, and it was back with a vengeance. She looked around for her cane, cursing herself as she figured she left it in the workshop. With titanic levels of willpower, she pushed the blankets off her, and heaved herself on to her feet. Grunting with pain, she made step after agonising step to one of the facility's bathrooms.

She washed her hands and stared at herself in the mirror, staring down her own multi-coloured eye. The longer she stared, the harsher her glare became.

“You never deserved success. Fucking monster.” She spat in anger at her doppleganger on the other side of the mirror. The redhead shakily raised her fist at her reflection, threatening to punch the mirror, before she lowers her hand in defeat.

She shook her head and offered a synthetic smile at herself. “No, this is a day for joy and happiness. I’m okay, I am good. I deserve nice things. 1..2..3… Two sinks, two taps, four mirrors, the hum of the air conditioner, the sound of drones working. I am okay.”

Aurelia drew in a long deep breath and exhaled. She splashed her face with water and patted her face dry with a towel.

“Now let's see what Isobel is doing.” she reassured herself. With one last look in the mirror, she left the restroom. She was thankful for the rails all across the facility, otherwise she may not have been able to get to her workspace.

As she entered the workshop, she slapped her forehead. She could have just got Addison to retrieve it for her. A galactically renowned scientist and she forgets something so simple. She looked around and couldn’t see Isobel anywhere. She hobbled over to grab her cane, and sat on her desk.

“Addison, where is Isobel?”

“Hello miss! She is currently in the lounge making use of the wall holo there.”

“Thank you Addison, could you please have breakfast number twenty four ready in half an hour?”

“Of course, miss. I would like to note that it is currently thirteen O'clock in the evening, which would make this a midnight snack.”

“Still technically morning.”

Aurelia made her way through the facility, and entered the lounge to Isobel staring at the screen intently on a video called ‘Servos, switches and Bitches’. The android turned to look at Aurelia, her face completely expressionless. Aurelia's gaze darted between Isobel and what was on screen. The android without breaking her violet gaze with the scientist.

“Did you sleep well?” She said nonchalantly.

Aurelia nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, sure. Been keeping yourself… entertained?”

“Yes. I have just been educating myself on human culture.”

Aurelia nodded slowly. “Yes I see that.” She walked forward but tripped over her feet, managing to recover, but dropping her cane. Isobel quickly got up and made for the cane, but Aurelia held her hand up.

“Prefer to do what I can by myself, ya know?” Aurelia nodded her thanks, and bent down to grab her cane, wincing only slightly. Her thin, pale fingers wrapped tightly around her cane and the edge of her seat. As she sat down, she let out a sigh of relief, before noticing there was some rather explicit material on screen. One that was embarrassingly familiar to Aurelia.

“So, Isobel, what... have you been doing during my slumber?”

Isobel offered a deadpan look. “Addison said I should get familiar with human culture, so I thought it would be useful to have a look at your search history to get better acquainted with you and humans in general.”

Aurelia cocked an eyebrow. “Please don’t tell me you spent the entire last two days browsing porn.”

“I was making a joke. I mostly browsed a variety of things, from GalNet broadcasts, news, social media. I thought it would be amusing if you awoke to see me watching such content, so I have had that tab open for the past 10 hours.” Isobel said with a blank face.

But Isobel did not spend that time looking at GalNet Broadcasts, news and social media and did, in fact, spend the entire time looking at porn. The incompatibilities of the milvine and raxth were utterly fascinating to her. She was thankful that incognito mode exists.

“Aha, you got me.” Aurelia said, offering a look of suspicion for a moment. “Do you mind if I run some tests on you? I want to make sure all of your senses are working.”

“Of course, anything you need, mistress.” said the very nude android.

Aurelia covered her face with her hand. “I’m too tired for this.”

“I was making another joke.” Isobel said with a slight smile. She noted to herself that the video she was watching was likely not a good reference to speak with other people.

Aurelia broke into a tired giggle. “Your deadpan delivery is honestly incredible. I couldn’t have even programmed that myself.”

“Ah, so the goddess cannot do everything it seems.” Interrupted the facility assistant.

Choosing to ignore Addison, she continued “I can’t wait to see what other changes you take on. Anyway, I can’t be bothered moving to the workshop. Addison, please bring the eggs here, and the packet of candies on my desk.”

“Of course, miss. Right away.”

A few minutes later, a drone walked in with the requested items, handing the items to the scientist who eagerly brandished an egg.

“Isobel, please hold this egg.”

The android knelt down beside Aurelia and grabbed the egg. She looked down at it and noted the smooth texture, but looked back up at the scientist expectantly.

“Fantastic, you can give back the egg. You pass that one.” The android passed her the egg, looking very confused. Aurelia placed the egg back into the carton, and put the carton on the floor beside her.

“We had an incident when your body didn’t have as much, shall we say, finesse.” Aurelia held her crooked, scarred hand up and smiled sheepishly.

“Crushed my hand pretty badly. It’s not anywhere near as bad now as it was, but that was painful.”

Isobel looked mortified, guilt written all over her face. “I am so sorry.”

The scientist waved it away. “No, don’t be. You weren’t even conscious at that stage, plus, that’s just part of being an inventor. Shit happens. Not your fault.” She waved Isobel to come closer.

“Now, I apologise for this one, but It needs to be done.” Before Isobel could respond, she pinched her on the arm, the android flinching away in shock.

“What was that? That was incredibly unpleasant.”

“Pain. It's a very useful sense, and will help prevent you from causing yourself unnecessary harm. As you can see, it is a sensation I am very much familiar with.” Aurelia lingered on the last words for a moment, before grabbing another object from the packet on her lap.

“You will like this one much more. Take one.” She rummaged through the package beside her, pulling out two vibrantly coloured objects, both having wildly different shapes and colours. with different shapes and colours. She placed one in her mouth, holding the other up for Isobel. The nude android leaned over and wrapped her lips around the candy, not breaking eye contact with the scientist. Aurelia’s cheeks reddened slightly before she composed herself.

“A kawi jelly. Confectionery. This is to test your sense of taste, and to make up for the last one.” Aurelia offered a toothy grin. The android’s face contorted, offering a variety of facial expressions.

“It is sweet. It tastes like fr-fr-fr-oooooooooot” Isobel held her mouth agape, glitched noises escaping her mechanical throat.

Aurelia frowned and held her hand up. “Don’t speak for a bit, I need to check your code. Looks like I can’t get away with lounging around here” She sighed.

“I will have to get up after all.” She said with exasperation. “Let’s go to the workshop.” She grabbed her cane and hefted herself up. Motioning for Isobel to follow, they slowly made their way through the facility. Once they arrived at the impressive workshop, Aurelia sat down at her personal computer, pointing Isobel back to the table. They sat there for a while in silence, only broken by the occasional annoyed mutterings of a programmer.

Isobel let her eyes wander around the workshop, dozens of tables covered in blueprints, assorted tools and half built contraptions. The sound of rain on the skylight filled the room and sent waves of calmness rushing over her. She thought to herself in amusement, thinking she was getting pretty good at handling emotions.

She jumped in her seat when Aurelia suddenly cried out in anguish.

“A FUCKING SEMICOLON. IT WAS A FUCKING SEMI COLON IN THE WRONG PLACE.” Aurelia cleared her throat and composed herself. She spun in her chair to face Isobel, who was looking shocked.

“Oh sorry, I get a little, shall we say, ‘excitable’?” the scientist said sheepishly.

“The young miss is greatly under-exaggerating.” Addison chimed in.

“I need to slap your programmer in the face, Addison.” Aurelia retorted in a huff.

“But you are-”

“Shhhhhh.”She casually dismissed. She opened one of her drawers, grabbing a pair of lollipops from within. She unwrapped them both with surprising dexterity, then handed one to the android, placing the other in her mouth..

“Let’s try this again, please tell me your thoughts.”

Isobel took the candy and placed it in her mouth, a much clearer swirl of thoughts and impressions coming to mind other than just ‘fruity’. Aurelia looked at her expectantly, but the android found herself distracted. The scientist's eyes were different colours, one was a deep, rich brown. The other eye was inorganic, the iris a dazzling array of colours, fading in and out, like the eye itself was breathing. The rest of the world seemed to just fall away as she was drawn into those bright, experienced eyes

“Isobel?”Aurelia spoke softly, waving her hand in front of Isobel’s eyes. The android snapped back to reality, the sound of rain almost drawing out Aurelia’s voice.

“Uh y-yes,” Isobel stammered, before continuing. “It has a pleasant flavour. It’s sweet, but a little sour too. However, I do not know the name of this flavour.”

Aurelia smirked, letting out a chuckle. “Deep in thought? I thought perhaps there was a hang in your code.”

“Your eyes are beautiful, I got distracted. I apologise.” The android spoke, as if it were a matter of fact.

Aurelia froze, her cheeks going flush with red, before clearing her throat.

“Umm yes, well, good to see you are in working order. Yes. Sight is apparently working well too.” She grabbed her cane, and stood herself up, her face scrunching up as pain shot through her body.

“Let’s get you dressed. I have a bunch of old clothes you can have. We’ll get you newer clothes next time I need to place a supply order. Please follow me.” Aurelia motioned towards the doorway, and the pair made their way through the large facility to Aurelia's oddly cramped bedroom.

I’m going to lie down for a bit, you have free access to my closet, feel free to take whatever you want.” Aurelia collapsed onto her bed face first, completely motionless.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.” Isobel said meekly.

“Hmffuph fiph mmurff” Aurelia spoke directly into her bed covers.

“I can’t hear you properly.”

Aurelia begrudgingly rolled over on to her side, and stared up to the clouded sky. “I can just buy more. Seriously, please take whatever appeals to you. If it helps, think of this as a test for preferences, or free will or something. I’m sure you can think of whatever reason to justify it. I need sleep.”

Isobel nodded, opening the closet to reveal a room larger than the bedroom itself. The walls were lined with a variety of fashions, from formal suits and dresses, down to sweatpants and baggy shirts. She walked in slowly, feeling overwhelmed with the choices before her and walked up to the mirror.

She grabbed her hips, and pinched the soft silicone skin, a weird sensation making her jolt slightly.

Existence is overwhelming. How do humans manage it?

She moved herself away from the mirror, and began browsing through the myriad of colours and designs. She found a red singlet with the name “Knives in the Nation”, a punk band that Aurelia was apparently a fan of.

I don’t know much about my creator. Why didn’t she give me any knowledge of her?

Was it an accident? No, Aurelia seemed deceptively collected, despite the mess she kept in her workshop. Maybe she would ask a bit later, for now, she would dress.

Isobel replaced the band singlet and continued browsing, moving to the variety of formal wear. She pulled out a dress, and held it up to her body. She shook her head, and pulled out a formal dress shirt, and with a nod of approval, slid the shirt over her shoulders, and delicately buttoned it up.

Her mind was already filled with many concepts and ideas. She knew what many things were, a knowledge base likely set by her creator, but there were also gaps of things she would have thought were important. She didn’t really know where she was, she didn’t know how big the facility was, or what her true purpose was.

She must have created me for a reason, a purpose.

She found a matching pair of pants, finding some plain underwear and putting them both on. Feeling like she was missing something she dug through the dizzying array of accessories, pulling out a black bowtie, and suspenders. Finishing off her outfit, she put on some dress shoes, and stood herself back up.

She felt properly dressed, smiling at herself in the mirror. It felt perfect for her, but something was missing, she wanted to do something with her hair. She dug through the accessories until she found a hair tie, and fashioned her hair on the back into a bun. With a nod of approval, she left the closet. Isobel closed the door quietly behind her, and turned to see Aurelia laying on the bed spread out as far as the space would allow. Her foot was hanging off the edge, her lab coat only half on.

Isobel was overwhelmed by an odd sensation, mixing between wanting to squeeze the life out of her and also hold her very gently. She now came to understand the pet videos on the GalNet. She stood there for a while, unsure of what she should do. The room was plain, with only a single nightstand, and a picture in a frame. She crept carefully across the room, not wanting to wake up Aurelia. She gently picked up the frame, a group of people standing side by side, all dressed in military garb, massive metal objects attached to cloth ribbons around their necks..

They all had big smiles on their faces, but their eyes looked blank, filled with dread. Only one person wasn’t smiling, her creator. She was kneeling at the front along with a couple of other men and women. She almost didn’t recognise her, a bandage wrapped around her head, covering her left eye, her arm in a sling.

“You look good. I think you chose it perfectly.” Aurelia muttered groggily. Isobel yelped in surprise, almost dropping the frame.

Aurelia rolled on her side, glancing at the object the android was holding. Her brows furrowed. “My squad, from the last war I participated in… directly.”

Isobel took one last look at the picture, and placed it back on the nightstand. She stood there awkwardly, unsure on what she should say next. As if to read her mind, Aurelia spoke again.

“It’s not a fun story, I might talk about it later, but for now this bed is very soft, and I do not want to get up. If you want to sleep, then ju....” she trailed off back to sleep. Unsure on what to do with herself, she lay herself down on the cramped floorspace beside the bed, staring at the ceiling. She had been active for fifty two hours, but the further she persisted, the harder it became for her to think. It was an alien sensation

She closed her eyes, and the world fell away as tiredness took her.

So, this a story I've been sitting on for a few years, and decided to take another crack at it. I've been wanting to adjust the pacing as the first attempt it kind of got away from me quickly. I'm not sure when I'll post the next chapter, but regardless, I hope you enjoy.

When Kara had arrived at Yulia, she didn’t know what to expect. Certainly, she had known what she hoped for— a place that would offer her a reprieve from all the fighting she had been doing since the destruction of Alyona.

More than just fighting, she was exhausted from flying at all times. So she wanted to rest. And she thought that things would finally start going smoothly now that they were here in a Sanctuary City.

However, she must have forgotten what exactly came as a human who was arriving in a city of dark elves, orcs, trolls, minotaurs, dwarves, and other non-humans. Because—

“Kill the human.”

Kara heard the order. She saw the Dark Lady of Alyona conjure even more giant swords of ice as the guards in the room raised their weapons and started forward. Before Kara could even fully process what was going on, Aiza sent the volley of ice swords her way.

Leaping back, Kara barely managed to dodge the first few projectiles. But the rest were too quick for her to easily evade. They struck her, cutting her across her shoulders and her stomach as she cursed and fell out of the air.

“Fuck—”

Crashing into the ground, she saw the first of the guards charge her way. They raised their weapons as she gritted her teeth, ready to activate her Dragon’s Scales, but a large rock crashed into the guards.

“Angel?” Kara stared at the utlas bear as he roared. “Don’t—”

He slammed his staff onto the ground and began creating the statue of a familiar minotaur as Aiza narrowed her eyes. But before it could finish forming, she snapped her fingers, and the rocks crumbled into dust.

Angel blinked as Kara rose to her feet.

“Don’t hurt him!” she shouted and raised her hand.

But Aiza pointed at the utlas bear, and his lower body froze. He paused, looking down at himself as he couldn’t move. Kara’s eyes went wide as she thought the worst had happened for a brief moment, before sighing in relief when she realized he was still alive.

However, that distracted her long enough for the guards to reach her. She spun around just as she heard their shouts. They struck out with their spears as she braced herself—

“Eighteenth Core: Storm of Blades!” Hayder exclaimed and crashed into the guards on the back of his draken.

He took down a group of them with that single attack. But even more of them charged at the human. Tashia intercepted them with the other captains as she glanced back.

“Get out of here, Kara!”

“I…” Kara swept her gaze around the room, seeing the chaos break out.

Kurg led the orcs and the trolls to form a circle around her as the captains fended off the nearest guards. But even more began to pour into the throne room, and she pursed her lips. Her friends were fighting for her. Angel chipped away at the ice keeping him in place. Hayder fought off a trio of guards on his own. Tashia, Bushra, Kurg, and even Uzbug moved to hold off the charging guards. However, despite the fighting happening all around, it seemed like Aiza only wanted the human dead, leaving the others incapacitated.

The Dark Lady of Yulia pointed at Hayder, freezing his draken as he dove out of the way in the nick of time. Her fingers drifted over to Bushra, then a group of orcs, freezing everyone who moved to Kara’s aid. Only their lower bodies were covered in ice, just to prevent them from moving.

The human knew she needed to escape before she was killed, so her body was lit ablaze, before she spread her flaming wings wide. She saw her opening to escape through the double doorway. She shot forward straight for her only exit, but Aiza pointed.

A wall of stone shot up, blocking the doorway immediately. Kara crashed into it, thinking she could break through. But the wall must have been magically enhanced as she barely cracked its surface.

“Shit—” She fell back to the ground as her flames flickered.

But as she picked herself back up, she saw a bright light flashing from behind. Looking back, she saw Aiza raising her hands in the air, a magic circle forming above her head.

“What is that…?” Kara asked with round eyes.

She could sense the powerful magic emanating from the spell circle. It continued to shift, the patterns on its surface growing more and more complicated as it grew brighter. Kara bit her lower lip. Whatever it was, she knew she didn’t want to be here for when it went off.

But before she could figure out a plan of escape, and before the spell could be completed, an arrow shot straight for the Dark Lady of Yulia. Aiza’s eyes flickered as she brought a hand out to catch the arrow

And the spell circle vanished.

The room froze, the fighting coming to a halt as everyone turned to face the person who fired the arrow. Caius stood there as he lowered his bow, the Helmet of Alyona still held to his side.

“Dark Lady Aiza, I apologize for the language, but what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he exclaimed as he aimed his bow at her. “Why the fuck are you attacking us?”

Aiza narrowed her eyes at him. “I have not harmed a single one of your people, Dark Lord Caius. You, however, have made an attempt on my life.”

Kara shifted back as the guards in the room aimed their weapons at Caius. But the new Dark Lord of Alyona did not flinch.

“Good gods, don’t mess with me— you attacked Kara.” He pointed at the human.

“I simply wish to kill the intruder who has infiltrated the Sanctuary City of Yulia,” Aiza replied as she tilted her head. “Or are you telling me this human is a citizen of Alyona?”

“That’s…” Caius opened his mouth, before hesitating.

The Dark Lady of Yulia waited expectantly. “Go on. I will be able to know if you are lying, Dark Lord Caius.”

Caius closed his eyes as Kara glanced around, searching for another way to escape. There was none.

“Kara is not a citizen of Alyona,” the elf admitted.

And Kara felt her heart sink as the guards in the room readied themselves to apprehend her again.

“Thought so,” Aiza said as she raised her hand again, ready to continue casting that spell from before.

But Caius wasn’t finished. Before the fighting could resume, he spoke up and drew the attention from everyone in the room, making them pause to listen.

“However, Kara is more important to Alyona than any ordinary citizen…”

“Oh?” That piqued the Dark Lady’s interest. “Explain.”

The guards exchanged confused glances. Even Kara didn’t know where the elf was going with this.

“That’s right, Kara is more important to Alyona than any ordinary citizen because…”

It almost seemed like he was stalling. He glanced back towards the human as she bit her lower lip, hoping whatever this plan of his would work. Aiza looked like she was starting to lose her patience, and Caius nodded to himself.

He faced the Dark Lady of Yulia and spoke simply.

“Because Kara is the Guardian of Alyona. So if you kill her, you’d be making an enemy of all of Alyona.”

Aiza frowned at that. “Azad is the Guardian of Alyona. Not some human girl.”

“Azad is dead— destroyed by the Dreamers,” Caius countered as he crossed his arms. “Since then, Kara has become the Guardian of Alyona. She is the reason we were able to make it here without losing tens of thousands more lives. She is the reason why I’m even alive today.”

There was a long silence as Yulia’s guards looked at each other uncertainly. Kara hoped that the elf’s words were enough to persuade Aiza. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like it was enough.

“Ridiculous,” Aiza said as she shook her head. “Do you truly think I will believe such a blatant lie? The people of Alyona would never accept a human as their guardian.”

She brought her hand up as her guards immediately readied themselves to attack once more. Kara knew her only option was to fight back, so she began to conjure up a sphere of golden flames. But before the fighting could continue, a figure stepped up next to the human.

“Dark Lord Caius is telling the truth,” Hayder said as he stood tall next to Kara. “We have chosen this human to be the new Guardian of Alyona.”

Tashia and Bushra joined him. And the other captains followed a moment later. They stood in a circle around Kara as she blinked a few times.

Kurg nodded at his fellow orcs and they walked up to the human’s side too. “The orc clans of Alyona will die before we let you kill Kara. She saved my life. We owe her a great debt.”

And the gathered trolls— none of which Kara recognized— joined in. “Hmph, we have seen what Kara has done for the people of Alyona. Not only that, we have been told that Kara is a friend to the Zuri Tribe. So we shall not let you harm her.”

That is right, a voice spoke in Kara’s mind. And these thoughts were conveyed to everyone else in the room. Uzbug strode up to the human as well, her mandibles clicking. As the Guardian of Alyona, Kara slew my queen to save thousands of lives. Killing her would be no different to making a declaration of war.

“You guys…”

Kara looked at all the people who were standing by her side. From those who were her friends, to those she didn’t even know. They stood in a protective circle around her, standing opposed to the Dark Lady of Yulia herself. Even though they were risking their lives, it didn’t matter. They were doing it for the human.

In return for everything she had done for them.

Her gaze finally landed on Angel. He had broken out of the ice and quickly joined her. Growling, he raised Zlo’tan’s staff and aimed at Aiza.

The Dark Lady of Yulia’s brows were creased as she saw this scene unfurl. And finally, Caius stepped up to the front of the group as he raised the Helmet of Alyona.

“As I told you, Kara is the Guardian of Alyona—” As he spoke, he donned the helmet on his head, before his voice boomed. “And we will not stand by idly as you threaten her life!”

The guards in the room backed up apprehensively. They turned to Aiza who was still standing on her elevated platform, but with her gaze darkened. She lowered her head and spoke in an icy voice.

“Do you not realize that putting yourself at odds with me will only hamper your chances of being let into my city?” Aiza said threateningly.

“We do not care,” Caius replied simply. “We will simply make our way to Tatania if you refuse to shelter us.”

Aiza’s brows snapped together. “I see.”

For a long moment, Kara wondered what was going to happen. If the Dark Lady of Yulia still wanted her dead, then everyone was going to die. They stood no chance of escaping the palace, considering how many guards she had seen.

But after what seemed to be a long moment of silent deliberation, Aiza acquiesced.

“Very well,” she said as she spun around. “That human— the Guardian of Alyona— will be treated no differently to the rest of your citizens when she is within the premises of my Sanctuary City.”

Kara and her friends let out a collective sigh of relief. But the Dark Lady of Yulia raised a hand as she settled back into her throne.

“However, understand this: I am not pleased with this arrangement, Dark Lord Caius. And while I will still give your people shelter Yulia, I will not offer you the same comfort and priority I have given the people of Vera. You will receive the same treatment as the refugees that come from outside the Sanctuary Cities. That is the consequences of your actions here today.”

Caius shrugged in response. “Anything is better than sleeping in the mud, I guess.”

Aiza didn’t seem amused by his quip. She simply continued to explain their arrangement as Kara found her shoulders sagging without even realizing it.

—--

Once Aiza finished her explanation of what would happen to the refugees of Alyona, she dismissed them, not wanting a human to be in her sight for a moment longer. The group was escorted out of the palace as Caius recounted what was explained.

“Five thousand of us will be let into Yulia each day. But we will only be allowed to live in the Hakyr District of Yulia…” the elf murmured.

“Which is the poorest and largest section of the city,” Hayder added.

“Right.” Caius sighed. “Meanwhile, the refugees from Vera were all given priority entry straight into the Yastra District. Which is the arrangement we would have been given if not for what happened.”

And Kara scratched the back of her head as she followed behind them. “Sorry about that…”

She still felt bad about what happened. Not because anyone was killed— there were a few injuries, but fortunately, everyone came out alive. But still, she should have foreseen her being a human causing at least some complications to the meeting. However, she had just been so accustomed to being around the people of Alyona, she forgot how they acted when she had arrived for the first time.

Perhaps Caius was also partially to blame for stringing her along to this meeting. But a situation similar to this would have inadvertently happened anyways, since she would eventually step foot inside of the Sanctuary City of Yulia. But it seemed that dealing with this issue right now of all times resulted in the worst possible outcome for everyone.

So Kara apologized as the group stepped out of the palace. Caius turned back to face her as she came to a halt. Angel paused with her, while Hayder and the rest of the group continued on.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have to deal with this. And if things had escalated…” Kara pursed her lips, imagining the worst that could have happened.

But Caius just waved a hand off dismissively. “Things wouldn’t have escalated. I know Dark Lady Aiza. She wouldn’t make an enemy out of an entire Sanctuary City.”

“Still, we’re now stuck in a shitty situation because she’s racist towards me,” Kara said as she shot a quick glance back to the palace. Angel nodded vehemently, shooting a glare in the vague direction where the throne room would probably be.

“I don’t think wanting to kill you on sight qualifies as just racist, Kara,” Caius chuckled.

Kara harrumphed. “Yeah, because racist isn’t the right word for it. It’s speciesist. But saying that ‘she’s speciesist’ doesn’t quite roll off the tongue in the same way.”

Caius smiled as he stared at her, then he turned towards the sprawling Sanctuary City of Yulia spreading out before them. An orange glow was cast over the colorful buildings, a stark difference to the dull-gray colors of Alyona.

The three of them stood before this scene of their new home as Caius turned back to face the human.

“Kara.”

She tilted her head at him. “Yes?”

“I know that I was pretty much making up whatever excuse on the spot I could to save your life, but I meant everything that I said.” Caius held her gaze. “I consider you my friend, and without you, I wouldn’t be here today— in more ways than just one.”

Her eyes went wide when she heard what he said. But he wasn’t finished.

“You’re my… friend,” the elf continued as he placed a hand on his chest. “So I don’t want to lose you too.”

Kara lowered her head. And she felt her cheeks tugging at her lips.

“You’re my friend too, Caius,” she finally said as she looked up at him. “Even if you did give me a lot more responsibility now, by making me the Guardian of Alyona.”

Caius blinked, then he smiled too. “Calling you the Guardian of Alyona now won’t really make much of a difference, considering what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. We’re just making things official now with the title.”

And Kara grinned at him. “Oh, really? Does that also come with a salary?”

“Well… I hear that friendship is priceless?” He gave her a half-hearted shrug.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment as Angel glanced between them. And they broke out into laughter. Kara, Angel, and Caius began to catch up with the rest of the group as they headed out of Yulia.

“I’m glad we finally made it here,” Kara said as she stared into the undulating mountains in the distance. “I just want to take a long nap in a comfy bed already.”

Caius pursed his lips, following her gaze. “We’re not safe yet. The Dreamers could reach Yulia at any moment. So we should be prepared for anything.”

Kara rolled her eyes at him. “We aren’t safe, but for today, we can rest. And that’s what matters.”

Turning to the utlas bear walking next to her, she raised a brow.

“Isn’t that right, Angel?”

In response, Angel made a sound of affirmation.

“And then we can prepare for any threats to come,” Kara said, looking back at Caius.

He stared at the shadowed shape of the mountains in the far-off distance, their figures painted black because of the backdrop of the sun. And while his face clearly showed the warring of emotions within him— the uncertainty he must have felt. He chose not to acknowledge it for now, instead choosing to agree with Kara.

“Right,” Caius said as his eyes closed. “Let’s rest, for now.”

—--

And far away from the Sanctuary City of Yulia, amongst the remains of Alyona, a single eye snapped open as it took in the light of day.

Adam had almost forgotten what sunlight looked like. It made him want to recoil in disgust. But he continued to pull himself out of the rubble, before glancing back. He saw the two figures following after him.

They looked like children. However, they were unlike any other kind of children that existed in this world. One of them resembled the figure of an elf, but when she opened her eyes or a mouth, there was only darkness within. And the other barely even wore the appearance of a child, wearing the night sky on his skin.

They were Eve and Abel, and they were both Adam’s creations. He stepped out of the ruins of Alyona, making way for them to follow.

“Come on Abel, let’s play outside!” Eve exclaimed as she pulled her brother along with her.

Abel didn’t look too enthused. He tried to turn around and return down the hole into the darkness. But Eve yanked him up, ignoring his wishes.

“Now, now, Eve. Do not be too rough with your brother,” Adam said, watching the two children as they stepped out and bathed in the sun’s rays. “You must remember, he is still a newborn. The world is alien to him, and he needs some time to acclimate to it, just as you did.”

“Of course, Adam. I understand that.” Eve rolled her eyes as she dragged Abel along with her, despite his clear discontent.

Adam watched as the two children walked over the rubble that had been both Alyona and the mountain that had collapsed into the Sanctuary City. And he stepped forward as a deluge of nightmares erupted from the hole behind him.

“Now—” he started, looking up.

He saw the tens of thousands of nightmares he had created over the last few weeks. While he had been trapped in the lower tunnels of Alyona, he hadn’t been idle. There had been numerous nests of varying sizes of giant centipedes down there, all of which he had slaughtered and turned into a brand new army.

An army that would take down the remaining Sanctuary Cities.

Adam smiled as he walked up to his two children.

“Let us find your brother,” he finished simply

And the three Dreamers began to make their way through the Xor-In Mountains once more, accompanied by the swarm of nightmares behind them.

—--

But that wasn’t the only army that was making their way through the Xor-In Mountains. A different kind of army arrived at the very edges of the mountain range, dismantling the encampment they had set up for the night.

“So these are the Xor-In Mountains,” a knight said as he swept his gaze over the sprawling landscape of hills and mountains that stretched as far as he could see. “I have to say, I’m not impressed. It doesn’t seem nearly as dangerous as it is made out to be.”

Next to him, a man dressed in an ordinary suit and tie sighed, “Gracious System— Apprentice Jacob, I have explained this to you numerous times, but the real dangers of the Xor-In Mountains lie even further within. It is said that even those who have reached Level 100 struggle to survive the perilous terrain in the very heart of the mountain range.”

“Damn the divine— why are we even wasting our time here then?” Jacob said as he drew back. “Didn’t you say the dragon we’re hunting is way deep within too? Let’s get going!”

Jacob marched straight back to the camp as the man in the suit rubbed his temples. He watched as the knight continued to go.

“Come on, Darius!” Jacob gleaned back briefly and called out.

“I’m on my way, Apprentice Jacob.” Darius nodded as he started forward. And under his breath, he murmured, “Master Arden, your son is really quite the troublesome man.”

And the two of them made their way back to the camp, gathering their army to make their way further into the Xor-In Mountains. But this army was different from most armies that made their way through these lands.

Because it was an army of humans.

End of Kara Book One

[First Chapter]

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​

We're fast approaching the climax of book one over on patreon. If you're enjoying the story so far, you can read up to ten chapters ahead over there. Either way, I appreciate every one of my readers and each of your comments. I'll continue to give this series my all.

Please enjoy.

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Tommy

Sweat pooled beneath his eyes and across the back of his neck as Tommy hefted another shovel of mulch down into the garden bed at number 57b on Pioneer Drive. They’d started that morning at 57a, a home belonging to a kindly old lady with the deep wrinkles of a frequent smiler, who’d plied them with sweets and cans of soft drink to combat the baking heat.

“Bless you boys,” she’d said multiple times. “It’s been so hard to find good help around the place these days.” She’d insisted on paying them in the old Australian dollars “to show those pink women where to shove it” and hadn’t taken no for an answer when they’d tried to decline.

The house they were working on now lay behind hers at the end of a long driveway that passed by her residence and was shuttered, with a metal grill welded to the front door. Robert had taken one look down the driveway and paused, then instructed Tommy to stay by the van. He’d exchanged a few tense words with someone through the door, then beckoned him over.

“Just the frontage,” he'd said.

Despite the heat, it felt good to work on something tangible. Most of the plants that looked to have once thrived in the yard weren’t salvageable, so they’d pulled the overgrown weeds, selected a few hardy species of cacti and succulents from the bed of the van and spread them out along the strip of dirt that ran the length of the driveway fence.

“This should do it,” Robert said as he trundled over with another barrow load of mulch. “Not bad for a morning’s work Tommy. I’d have been lucky to get just the last house done by now. There’s a lot less to-and-fro when I have another pair of hands to help.”

“You think they’re going to maintain it though?” Tommy gestured to their work.

“That’s why I carry the hardy stuff,” Robert shrugged. “They’ll do just fine on rainwater, and the mulch will keep the worst of the weeds at bay for a while. How are you liking the work?”

“It’s… good,” Tommy admitted, rolling out his shoulders as he set the shovel down into the wheelbarrow. “That lady was really happy to see us.”

Gardening also made it easier not to think about the last couple of days. After he’d stormed out on Seamus, his temper had carried on through the next day until Robert put his foot down. Now that he was out in the sun a lot of the stress had bled away, running off him like the sweat he wiped from his brow as he stood back to look over a job well done.

“It’s tidy enough,” Robert nodded in satisfaction. “I’ll just go let the homeowner know and we can get out of his hair, he’s a bit of a jumpy bloke. I said I’d knock again once we finished up. Wheel those tools back up to the van for me, would you?”

“Right,” Tommy acknowledged, depositing Robert’s spade and the trowels into the barrow.

Is this really going to be my life from now on?

It wasn’t a completely unpleasant thought. He respected Robert, a man who had a good work ethic and a healthy worldview if one that he found a bit too laid back. If the nice lady from that morning was any indication, it wouldn’t be thankless work. It was simple. Peaceful.

It's just…

There was a whole galaxy out there. If the Imperium hadn’t shown up, he might have been content with a life in the army, or maybe a trade if that hadn’t panned out. But now… Seamus’ words echoed in his mind. The keys to our own ships. Escape. An endless adventure through the deepest reaches of space. He’d been born to the generation that should have experienced all of that. What would his life have looked like?

And here I am, shoveling shit for retirees and recluses.

He'd have laughed at the unfairness if he hadn’t been living it.

He'd just finished loading everything into the van when Robert returned. “Nothing on top for us out of that job,” he remarked, though it didn’t seem to bother him.

“How often do people pay us to help anyway?” Tommy asked.

“Maybe half the time, if we’re lucky,” Robert shrugged. “That’s not counting the times I refuse payment, like if they’re particularly old. That lady was a proper firecracker about it, otherwise I wouldn’t have accepted her money. Course, the Imperium is forking the bill for all our material costs and labor, so anything extra is just gravy.”

“Do most of them pay in cash?” Tommy asked. “It almost seems like more effort than it’s worth to go and change twenty dollars to credits.”

“I just go past the changer at the end of each week, and it depends,” Robert answered. “More and more folks are giving up on the dollar since Coles and Woolies bowed the knee and stopped accepting it. I expect they’ll stop changing money altogether within a year or so, and that will be that. We’ll be proper Imperial subjects then.” Something dark and complicated flickered over the older man’s face and then disappeared.

Tommy also fought to control his expression.

“Anyway,” Robert went on. “I’m feeling like lunch. Any requests? It’s your first day, so it’s my treat. After that, you’ll be paying for yourself from your share of our stipend, minus some house expenses.”

“Gonna charge me rent?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not gonna treat you like a seasonal worker if that’s what you’re asking,” Robert snorted in amusement. “We split everything down the middle, and that includes expenses. You’ll earn your keep, and enough to go off and do whatever you want down the line. I think that’s fair.”

“Down the middle?” Tommy blinked. “I figured you’d be paying me a base wage or something.”

“I had a chat with Mary,” Robert replied. “We want you to feel like a part of our family, you know that. We’re a team, Tommy, so you’re getting a cut as a partner, not an employee. So,” he carried on as Tommy turned to swallow the lump in his throat, “How about lunch? You choose the place.”

---

“Don’t get used to this,” Robert warned as the pair stepped into the cool, air-conditioned interior of the restaurant. “When I said, ‘whatever you want’ I was thinking more along the lines of pies versus subway sandwiches, not steak for lunch.”

“I’ll never understand why meat pies are a thing,” Tommy shook his head and Robert scoffed at him good-naturedly.

A waitress greeted them at the door to lead them to their seats, and they’d taken half a dozen steps into the restaurant when the hairs on the back of Tommy’s neck stood on end.

He looked around. Sure enough, seated at a table towards the back of the restaurant, separated from the human patrons by two rows of empty tables was a group of kespans. He was about to turn to Robert and suggest leaving when the smallest alien noticed him. A set of pointed ears pricked up, and she reached over to tug at the cuff of another, curiously armoured kespan, then nodded her head at them.

Fuck.

“We need to go,” he said urgently into Robert’s ear, and the older man looked at him askance.

“I thought you wanted steak?” he said, and Tommy grabbed his arm, about to steer him towards the exit.

“Excuse me?” The cool, slightly robotic translatorspeak carried across the restaurant and sent a shiver down Tommy’s spine. With a sigh, he looked up. The youngest kespan looked back at him, eyes gleaming with an enthusiasm that only set him more on edge.

“It is you, yes? The pair of humans from a few days ago? We met outside the shopping center.” The earnest face of the youngest member of the crew that had stepped in to help them blinked back at Tommy.

“Swallow your food Valiir, then speak,” the grey-snouted kespan sitting next to her chided. “Unless you want to spend some additional time going over etiquette as well as procedure.”

Tommy was kicking himself privately. Of course, the aliens would come back here again. Their exchange had planted the seeds for his current craving for a slab of medium-rare sirloin, but he hadn’t stopped to think about whether they might bump into each other.

“That’s us,” Robert smiled. “I don’t think we got a chance to introduce ourselves properly last time. I’m Robert, and this is my boy Tommy.” He clapped Tommy on the back and shot him an apologetic look.

Tommy just nodded, trying his best to avoid extended eye contact with any of the aliens. The sooner they got this interaction over with, the better. Already, he could spot the curious and prying eyes staring at them from the human-occupied side of the room. There were scowls on those faces too.

The kespan leader, a severe-looking felinoid whose face Tommy remembered, gave a courteous nod back. “Captain Mirai, of the She-Steps-Silently,” she reintroduced herself and then gestured to the rest of the table. “This is my crew; that’s Imrir, my second in command on the far side. Rowla there is my security officer, she’s our veteran combat specialist,” the greying kespan inclined her head slightly. The two sitting between are Krik and Krak, they’re general security. That’s not their real names, but it’s what everyone calls them. They’re not twins, but you could be forgiven for thinking they were.”

The two almost identical kespans barely acknowledged the presence of the human men, they were instead busying themselves with devouring the remainder of a sizeable pile of beef ribs, adding to a small stack of shiny bones, that teetered precariously be the end of the table.

“Lastly, we have Valiir, ship ensign. She’s our most junior crewmember, so she drew the short straw to join us planetside for this little jaunt, which I’m sure she’s just decided she enjoys greatly.” The smallest kespan grinned bashfully at Tommy over what looked like the start of her second huge steak, her salad untouched. “Ignore anything she says.”

“Hey,” whined the ensign through another mouthful of t-bone, her ears going back and her muzzle scrunching up.

“Swallow first,” the oldest one, Rowla, growled and cuffed her over the head.

The captain turned back to Robert. “We must thank you again for the recommendation of this restaurant,” she said. “These steaks are excellent. Some of the best quality meat we have ever enjoyed.” The scowls on the faces of the men in the corner deepened into targeted glares at that, and Tommy’s muscles bunched up.

“You’re very welcome,” Robert replied, either oblivious to their situation or resigned to it. “We Australians pride ourselves on our agricultural industry.”

“It shows.” She gestured to the end of the table, where several empty seats stood, and Tommy’s stomach dropped, his appetite suddenly vanishing. “If you wish to join us, it would be my treat.” The offer had even the two food-obsessed kespan women looking up from their meals.

Robert hesitated, and Tommy glanced at him pointedly, but the man wasn’t looking at him. Instead, his hand flexed near the wallet in his pocket. Crap. Come on Robert, you can’t be serious.

“No strings attached, of course,” the Captain Mirai hurried to add. “You can accept it as thanks for the recommendation and a further apology for the actions of those soldiers the other day. This is also the first time some of my crew has gone planetside as part of an induction. Conversing with new species is a valuable experience, so you would be doing me a favour.”

No, absolutely not.

“Why not?” Robert shrugged, and Tommy gaped at him.

“Rober—“ he paused, they had an audience. “Father, we can’t…”

“Hey now, you wanted steaks for lunch,” Robert chuckled, cutting him off and clapping him on the back. “One thing you need to learn about being an adult Tommy, is that you never say no to a free steak. You know, like the one you asked me to buy you.”

“I think the saying is actually, ‘there’s no such thing as a free lunch.’”

“Let’s not argue Tommy.” He leaned in. “They’re here now, and not going anywhere. Plus, they’ve helped us once already. We should accept that they’re not all bad.”

He could walk out. He’d done that once already in the last few days, and he hadn’t regretted it then. But Robert’s face wasn’t stern or uncompromising, it was concerned imploring. There were bags under his eyes, bags that Tommy hadn’t noticed when they’d awoken that morning.

Dammit.

“Fine,” he sighed.

“Thank you,” Robert muttered back, giving his shoulder a paternal squeeze. The older man turned to the kespans, who were pretending that they couldn’t hear their conversation, though the twitches in the youngest ensign’s ears betrayed them. “We graciously accept.”

“Excellent,” the captain smiled, then looked to her crew. “Ladies, these two gentlemen will be joining us in our meal. Please demonstrate proper galactic etiquette.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and turned to the table, only to pause in confusion as one of the armoured kespans— the second officer, if he’d gotten the introductions right— stood and moved a chair out for him. The gesture was only a precursor to something that resembled Tommy’s worst nightmare as the entire table stood as one, and the captain slid out another chair for Robert. She bowed slightly and gestured with a hand for him to sit.

Blood rushed to Tommy’s head. All around them, the diner had gone quiet. It wasn’t a full house, but when they’d walked in there had been conversation, dulled perhaps by the presence of the aliens, but present. Now every eye in the room was wide open and watching in disbelief.

“Oh, er, thank you,” Robert laughed awkwardly and took a seat. Tommy followed suit if only to end the spectacle as quickly as possible. Fortunately, as he did, the rest of the table also sat down, the ensign and the not-twins snatching up napkins and wiping the meat juice from their whiskers, then picking up their cutlery with more care than they’d displayed before.

This is fucking ridiculous. Tommy wanted to crawl up into a ball under his chair, but the expectant gazes of the table were on him, and Robert raised his eyebrows.

“Thanks,” he muttered instead, and the word tasted like ash in his mouth.

He was saved by the waitstaff.

“Would sirs like anything from the menu?” The waiter’s eyes were laced with something poisonous, and he bowed exaggeratedly, almost genuflecting, his hands coming up in a sweeping motion like he was greeting royalty. Tommy had lived in Australia long enough to know when someone was making fun of him, and he clenched his fist as the closest tables snickered. It’s not like I’d be here if I had a choice.

“I’ll have the porterhouse,” Tommy mumbled, avoiding the man’s eyes. Might as well milk the aliens for all they’re worth.

“The rib-eye for me,” Robert kept his tone upbeat, but he was finally starting to sound a bit uncertain.

I told him this was a bad idea.

“Very good monsieurs,” the waiter simpered. “And would you like sauce with those steaks? Barbeque? Garlic? Cat-chup?”

The sniggers were beginning to break out into true laughs now, and the kespans were looking confused, their translators seemingly unable to tell them what the big joke was.

“Just jus,” Robert straightened up, he’d had enough. He got in ahead of the waiter as the man opened his mouth again. “Medium rare for both of us, two bottles of coke, and that will be all, thank you. We appreciate your kind service.”

His fun over, the man sniffed. “We’ll get right on that,” he said, and then moved over to another table.

Captain Mirai’s eyes watched him closely as he moved off, and she glanced between the humans curiously but said nothing.

“Um, excuse me,” a timid voice from across the table ventured, and Tommy sighed. Fine. Let’s get this over with.

“Yes?” he answered blankly, staring at the youngest kespan, the ensign, who was now fidgeting with a napkin and blushing profusely.

“I know the captain just introduced us, but I’m Ensign Valiir Beshmari,” she smiled hesitantly. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m not very good at this whole diplomacy thing yet, but it’s nice to meet you, Mr Tommy, sir.”

Kill me now.

​

[First Chapter]

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“We were the oldest and greatest still-living sapient species in the galaxy, at around 1 Billion years of existence. We never found a need to name ourselves, though of course, if you’d ask other members of my species, they would say we were Gods or Angels for being at the absolute pinnacle of science. I always liked the term ‘Gods’ to describe us, but that’s only for lesser beings. We’re equals, so you can just call us Unities.

That name was chosen for us for our almost absolute harmony. We were so different from other species even before we ascended and replaced our flesh with metal. We were not individual creatures, but groups of cells that lived in the bottom of our ocean near vents. We separate and combine to form bigger creatures on a whim, no one having one mind. When we disagree we would simply fuse, becoming one entity. Even when we became more individualistic we were still united.

Because of our unity and blurriness between individuals, there were never wars, need for trade, or even nations. While there were still outcrops and villages, no one was a leader. When we had little food we would all go hungry together instead of prioritizing the ‘best’. Because of this we were different from other species, even different from the ones on our planet.

Seeing how other species on our planet fought and killed members of their same species, we immediately knew it was our right to conquer this world. Each of our cells can change to different forms on a whim, although extremely advanced systems like fur and feathers only started forming a few centuries later. We destroyed the land, causing the third mass extinction on our planet. We didn’t care because it didn’t affect us, the superior species, so we simply let it happen. Of course one rare individual and some mysticism made it so we didn’t reach the stars until it was necessary, when almost all life on the planet was used up.

We were advanced enough, and generally prefer, to live in cities on clouds and gas giants, where we don’t need to touch the ground. Now we don’t really have flesh or cells as our bodies anymore, the form you're seeing now just being temporary for me. We created wormholes and now own a part of the galaxy. We still prefer to keep to ourselves, so we only inhabit new systems out of necessity or amusement, there we played a game the Galactic Council would call cruel.

When we find a sapient species, we would ‘test’ it. We go to a certain religious faction and give their leader ‘prophetic visions’. We ask them to go to war and conquer their world. We would even give them bits of our technology, although without any blueprints on how to make more. The goal here is to make a world war, to make a difficult enemy where the rest of the world would have to unite against to save them all. We wanted to see if other species would be like us and become united. Most of the time we ask our faction to be genocidal maniacs, you know to make it more threatening, but some others we just let them do whatever they want. We did the latter to a species that evolved a few million years later on our planet after we destroyed it. Sadly no species had yet to win, the dictatorship always succeeding. We would reward them anyways, but not fully. Not with the intention for the ones that truly won. Speaking of winning, that’s where you step in.

I wasn’t really there for the other games, although I did see the memories from others. I was popular in my village, which was on your planet Saturn, my favourite by the way, and so when I suggested doing one of these games on Earth, everyone agreed. You were the most advanced species outside of the Council we’ve met. You guys were on the verge of leaving your planet and going to your neighbour, Mars. While we still could probably do the games when you were interstellar, it was more of a threat when you were all on the same planet, so we were lucky to catch you guys just in time.

As I was the one who suggested it, I was the one to give out the first ‘prophecy’. I decided, to lengthen the game, instead of going to the highest religious authority, I would send a prophecy to some random, unknown man. That is where things changed.

You probably know the history by now, but let's recap for the sake of clarity. This man, for the first few decades did little more than gain a cult following. We gave a few others from the same country the same vision to unite them. Soon his influence became overwhelming. It was to the point he became the leader of his country. Once he gained political power, we ‘blessed’ him with our physical power.

He took over nation after nation. Because of how easy it would’ve been, we always disable every time he used nuclear or even hydrogen bombs. We also prevented any spaceships full of people from conquering Mars or their moon.

I became interested in you, very very interested. I changed my flesh form into a mimicry of you, the one you’re seeing now, even identified as a man when I was once genderless. I never liked your guys’ ugly faces, so I changed it into something more resembling my true form. When I saw the decades go by and your fourth world war arose, I knew we had a different species from the others.

Where other species would fight and argue, you guys began uniting together to fight this much more powerful foe. I wanted to sit back and let you guys win, but the first guy was begging and praying incredibly hard to win. Then I decided, this would not be an easy test. I asked for a sacrifice from him, wondering what he would do to please us. There he sacrificed 3 million of his own people. I couldn’t just not help him after that.

I changed the tides, literally, affecting the natural disasters on your planet. Now don’t look so skeptical. We simply planted a device in your clouds to change the way your planet interacts with each other. There, what you called ‘The Great Disaster’ happened. Your country and your allies all got hit by floods, tsunamis, blizzards, hurricanes, hail, mudslides, tornados, anything and everything all in the same year. All the while your enemy, that man, stayed perfectly safe.

After you guys stood through that, I thought this was the end, that you would lose this game, albeit with me cheating a little. As one last goodbye, I changed my form completely into one of yours, yes even the ugly face. I had a difficult time with the mouth, so I had to wear a facemask. I wore clothes more resembling your street punks and landed in one of your cities.

The war was still ongoing, surprisingly. The man was starting to become insane, where before he simply conquered, his empire started to merely kill without reason. I didn’t even give him instructions to do that. Oh, how barbaric you guys are. Anyways, I explored your city. It was similar to how ours used to look in the past, made of concrete and going up into the sky. I only saw this in historical memories, so it was mesmerizing.

I met a kid. A crying one. It was so strange, how that child took my attention. I walked over to her and asked, ‘How are you?’ She looked up, and frowned. I didn’t say anything more, just sitting down next to her.

We were like that for a couple moments. It was so peaceful, and so alien. I looked up at a billboard reporting on the war. Just staring. There the girl finally spoke up.

“M-my city was destroyed in the war.” She whispered oh so quietly. If it weren’t for my advanced senses I wouldn’t have caught it. Wanting more info, I sighed and nodded.

“My sibling went and died there.” I half-lied. While my sibling is probably still alive and never went to war, they’ve been exiled from our society for differing thoughts. I still miss them. Of course a loss of a sibling will never compare to the loss of a community, but I tried sympathizing.

She frowned, and leaned up against me. “It was so scary.” She murmured.

Again, we sat there.

“What is your name?” She asked me, breaking the silence.

Now, we never really found the need for names in our society. Using our mindlink, we all simply ‘know’ who we were talking about. Well we didn’t even really need words to convey anything, our minds just perfectly synced.

“Um, Hum-” No, not human. “-Ahn… Us. Humahnus.”

She quirked an eyebrow at me, then giggled. “That’s a funny name.”

I laughed back, although that wasn’t something our species usually can do, so it came out strange. She smiled at me. It was so odd to me, to see such joy. Even my people, who have all the luxuries possible, never showed joy like that. I wanted to see more.

I said I had to leave and then when I found a secluded spot, I went back to my true form and flew into the skies. I still observed her, although on the surface of Saturn. It was so fast to me, although it was her entire life. I saw her learn, play, eat, sleep, and soon, fight. She fought in the same war that killed her community. And she died in that same war. A war I caused. But of course its not my fault, really, because your people are just barbarians willing to kill your own people just for some idiot’s stupid plan and if it wasn’t because of you guys then… sorry. I got heated there. I wasn’t able to protect her, she was too small for me to do anything. We can change the weather, stop spaceships, and start wars, yet we cannot stop something so minor as a single person’s death…

But… You guys won. Despite everything, your countries all became one and you guys won. You were the first species ever to win our games. And now you can have the full reward, all of our technology, all of our history, the ability to live for millions of years and to be sustained by only light. You guys deserve it. You may not be as great or as kind as us but… You did it… Congratulations!”

“Hmmm… Nah.” Council Member Jack of The Human Confederation said.

Humanus deflated. “What?”

The world was silent, across the entire galaxy we knew the video was playing. on every device, every radio, every communication station. The humans had emerged from their home system, and they were coming to exercise their destiny.

we had truly underestimated them for too long, some thinking they may never emerge with their inferior technology but we got lazy. most of the universe up until this point was full of intelligent prey like species, there were a few outliers like the graniskx Who were a fully carnivorous predator evolved species with smaller than average brain sizes. humans however, we watched them evolve with a prying eye. they were intelligent, but not only that they were strong yet not overly so and incredibly endurant. They persevered no matter what obstacles stood in the way, they would do anything and everything to accomplish their goals as a primitive society.

it was interesting to watch them for a time. all species in the council had evolved very slowly, over courses of millennia, even billions of years, but the humans were different. they had evolved to air travel on their home planet so quickly, that it turned media attention for many cycles as the humans were having a war at the time that they had dubbed World War II on the intercepted communications we had managed to grab from the space around their planet. this war was very clearly devastating to the human race, but something we didn’t expect came out of it. they were using gases and powders to power explosives and then suddenly a faction of them called the United States of America developed something we could have never imagined, they had split the atom.

for many cycles It was the rage of the media, The humans had split the basis of all that was matter and real. they had taken the very foundation their existence and split it into a weapon so destructive and devastating they had to promise each other not to use it on other factions again. soon enough after that the humans fell to the back of the universe’s collective minds. that is until we had found the vault, A massive anomalous structure that was floating through space before a Gregori trade transporter had found it on accident when he had gone off course. the vexian scholars of The council being the smartest of the races, had to put themselves to work learning the history of our universe. The vault held billions of historical records, and surprisingly, writings by gods. Sure there were many species who believed in a higher power, and there are others who didn’t but now there was no doubt. our creators we’re merciful, sweet and kind and providing but there were others who were harsh and cruel, and thought of their creations as play things as with the extinct race, the mezvdina who were exterminated by a parasitic plague.

through archiving all of the writings we had noticed a pattern, there was a specific race with no name given life by a God more worshiped than the rest. their planet had been repeatedly started over and over, The basis of any life on the planet built on the death of those before. carbon being a very main element within the system. there have been many attempts to create life on the planet, but all had ended in disaster, except one. they were said to be bipedal, they could bond with and defend any animal on their home planet as if it were their young. they were said to be intelligent, persistence hunters. chasing their goal like they were rabid and single minded focused on only their interest. as we dug deeper we found that this race, Who is destined to lead and take leadership of the universe’s kingdom would be emerging in the near future. some were scared, some were excited, some didn’t feel any particular way about it but we knew they were coming.

The galactic Council had no idea what to believe, there were few species that matched the descriptions, and they didn’t even consider humans at all thinking them to be one of the cursed to not have a God, based on the factors of their planet and existence. how wrong we were.

soon the day came when the humans emerged, finally exiting their star system and communicating with the first race they had found, which so happened to be the vexians. humans had soon joined the council, but were seen as a junior member and not very important. humans were strangely diplomatic and peaceful, despite the misconceptions that some had due to their history of extreme violence and warfare. it was about 100 earth years before we had shown them the writings in the vault, after reading all that they could the humans started secluding themselves. they would come to Council meetings yes, but they would not interact with anyone, it seemed as though they had big plans. as the years went on, we heard reports of things happening to the people of their home planet terra, they gained strange abilities and isolated themselves even more as they read more and more of the vaults records.

hundreds of earth years would pass, and their fleets increased, their armies growing stronger with better technology, doctrine and trade. we all stood idly, unsure of the events to proceed. soon enough the council got fed up with their isolationist behavior, imposing sanctions and cutting off contact. now making it legal to attack the humans. the first race who did was annihilated, and humans declared war on their allies, meaning almost the entire universe.

now we sit in our homes, on our ships, in our vehicles, in our offices, in jail cells and daycares alike we sit in wait of our takeover. I was home with my wife and daughter when the broadcast cut through to our home entertainment system, hearing the loud noise is coming from all our neighbors, radios, televisions and telephones alike. “greetings all” the low, rumbly human voice came through the speakers loudly. “i am commander and cheif Ivanov of the Federation of United Terra. we are here to inform the universe, that we have come to claim our birthright. we the humans, were born to inherit the stars. we come to you with the decree that you belong to us now, you may have won the race to the cosmos but we own the finish line. our god is behind us, feeding our glory. our full potential was unrealized until our reading of the records, you have failed to recognize us as the higher beings we are and now we have the power and strength to show you the truth. we, The humans with our determination and spirit will conquer you. make things easy on yourselves, surrender and we’ll make life better for you. and remember, Humanity über alle.”

and when the broadcast cut off, we knew the ships were coming, and they would come to us first as my race, the intren, had been the ones to suggest kicking out the humans from the galactic order. I am afraid, to borrow a human saying Id not like to see two suns in the sky.

{Thank you for reading, i know it’s bad and slightly incoherent but i tried😭 feel free to build on this or use the concept}

<<First Chapter | <<Previous Chapter | Next Chapter>>

Josh

“Come on, Josh. I have to be over at the church in a half hour, and it’s going to take me at least fifteen minutes to drive out to Craig’s house. We’re pushing it.”

“Working on it, Mom,” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Well work on it faster, Mister,” she shouted right back at him.

He glanced around his room. He hadn’t done any prep work. No, he’d been sitting reading. He was stuck on this amazing new book that was continuing the Star Wars story. Finally.

Not that he was one of those older nerds who’d been left in the lurch. No. He felt like he was lucky to get to watch the movies on VHS and then turn around and immediately get to read these books which were totally fucking amazing and the only sequel he felt like the trilogy ever needed.

“It’s not like George Lucas is ever going to get around to giving us what we really want,” he muttered, reluctantly closing the book and looking around the room.

The place was a mess. Or at least it was a mess as his mom defined it. Which meant he was probably going to get a talking to as soon as he got back from Craig’s house.

Only that was tomorrow. He’d have that sense of dread hanging over him the whole time he was over at his friend’s house. He didn’t like that, but…

Well. It’s not like there was anything he could do about it. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a shirt, shorts, and a couple of changes of underwear and socks. He figured you could never be too sure when it came to underwear and socks.

At least he was going on a Friday night. That meant he wouldn’t be dragged to Craig’s church the next morning.

The first time he’d gone there they tried their best to save his eternal soul. Or Craig’s mom had been really annoyingly intense about it.

Which felt a little weird for his Presbyterian ass where the most heated they ever got was debating whether they should use grape juice or wine for communion. Not that he ever got anything but the grape juice.

The kids who went to the Catholic Church said they got the wine. He wasn’t sure he believed that. It sounded like bullshit.

“Josh! I don’t have time for this!” his mom shouted.

“Coming, Mom!”

He glanced around his room one final time, and his eyes settled on it. The spear.

The thing had been born in a school project about the middle ages back in middle school. They were supposed to take an aspect of life in the middle ages and tell their fellow students all about it.
Admittedly he and Craig had gone a little overboard with the project. Mostly with the help of Uncle Cody and his metal shop.

He stared at the thing and then reached out and touched it with reverence. As he did, he felt a tingle running through him.

The thing was a work of art. That was for damn sure. The kind of spear the six fingered man would kill his father over, sending him on a lifelong quest for revenge. Even though it was a spear and not a sword.

The thing had a massive spear tip. The better to go after big nasty things that might want to kill a hunter back before guns took all the sport out of hunting. There was a cross piece right under the spearhead. The better to keep any hypothetical giant angry creatures from trying to kill the human trying to kill it by keeping it at a distance.

There was a long shaft, designed just for Josh and his body. Or at least what he’d been back in middle school, though it still worked pretty damn well. Uncle Cody had made the thing a little oversized, saying he might get some use out of it someday.

He was pretty sure that was Uncle Cody joking around. The man didn’t have a serious bone in his body unless it came to drinking or chasing women.

But there’d also been an odd gleam in his eyes as he said that. Something that had Josh taking him seriously, despite the man’s reputation for never taking anything seriously.

The spear had been polished to a bright finish, and it was made out of wood from an ancient oak tree on Uncle Cody’s property that had been struck by lightning the year before their project.

Cody had been looking for an excuse to take the tree down, and Craig and Josh “helping” with it, which amounted mostly to standing around useless since Cody didn’t trust them with a chainsaw, had been both an experience and part of the payment.

“Oh no.”

Josh turned around, pulling his hands away from the spear. His mom stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips in that way only she could. A way that said he was about to be in trouble.

“There’s no way you’re bringing that thing to Craig’s house. What would his mom think?”

“She’d probably think Craig already has one in his house, and she doesn’t mind as long as we’re going out and playing in the woods rather than playing Nintendo all night long.”

His mom stared at him for a long moment where he wondered if she’d buy his bullshit.

He recognized that look. It was the same look Mr. Thompson, their eighth grade history teacher who’d been more interested in coaching football than teaching history, had when he saw them bring those spears in. Like he hadn’t expected them to be quite so realistic, or to go quite so overboard with the project.

Though there’d also been a gleam in Mr. Thompson’s eyes. Like he approved, even if he had to have some special considerations put in place because they were bringing a weapon into the school for their presentation.

Thankfully there were already similar procedures in place for kids who brought in hunting rifles to talk about going out and sitting in a tree stand covered in fake deer piss so they could blow Bambi’s brains out from a safe distance, so it’s not like it was all that hard to turn things around and apply those rules to spears rather than guns.

That slightly worried gleam in his eye had been nothing compared to how he looked when Uncle Cody showed up with a giant stuffed bear they’d created for the demonstration. The thing was stuffed full of straw, and it looked ridiculous.

Still. It was pretty damn big. So what if the fur was a deer hide from uncle Cody’s private selection? Killed with a bow and arrow. Not a gun.

Uncle Cody also had feelings on that sort of thing. Feelings that had rubbed off on Josh.

They’d even gotten a big laugh from the class when they put a big sign over the thing and hastily painted “The Beast” on it. Well, mostly they’d gotten some laughs. The laughter had been slightly nervous.

Everyone knew the stories, after all. Even if Josh always dismissed them as just that: stories.

The point was, the “bear” looked real enough to everyone in that classroom that day. And everyone had laughed when they put their spears against the “forest floor” which had actually been some fake grass from an old putting game his dad hadn’t used in years, and Uncle Cody had thrown the bear at them with a loud roar.

They’d speared it right there in class, demonstrating how the cross piece kept the angry animal from going down far enough on the spear to claw the person to death before they could enjoy the fruits of their hunting victory.

“Fine,” his mom finally said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know why I let Cody talk me into letting you do that project in the first place.”

“We got an A+ on it,” Josh pointed out.

“Yeah, and that goes a long way towards explaining why I don’t have a problem with it,” she said, rolling her eyes again. “But you’re really pushing it tonight, Mister.”

“Come on, Mom,” he said, shouldering his backpack that had his spare clothes in it.

He packed lightly these days. He could remember a time when he’d filled his suitcase with everything he thought he might need. Everything from toys to video games to cassette tapes he wanted to share with his friends.

Now, though, he didn’t worry about all that. No. He knew they were going to have a good time, and it’d probably involve playing with the spears out in the woods behind Craig’s house.

Maybe they’d even stay out after it got dark. There was always a creepy ambience in the forest right after dark that sent a thrill running through him. It reminded him of how he imagined Mirkwood would’ve felt when Bilbo and the dwarves were making their way through the place and running from spiders and wood elves.

Or maybe the neighborhood kids would play flashlight tag or sardines. Which would involve Lisa coming over. He shivered thinking of the last time he played tag with her out in Craig’s neighborhood.
It was a good shiver.

He reached out and grabbed the spear, and again that electric tingle ran through him. Something that felt just as primal as the tingle he got thinking of Lisa, only pinging a different ancient instinct.

He looked out the window and blinked. He was surprised to see the full moon already hanging low in the sky even though it was still broad daylight out.

For some reason that sent another shiver running through him. A shiver he couldn’t explain. It was a sense of anticipation.

The idea of running through the woods on a full moon in pitch darkness should’ve terrified him, but instead it filled him with a sense of excitement he couldn’t explain.

“Josh? Josh!”

He jumped and turned to face his mom. She looked even more annoyed.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing. “I guess I got distracted.”

“Yeah, and you’ve wasted so much time we only have twenty-five minutes now. That means I’m going to have to haul ass and hope there isn’t a Smokey Bear out there jerking off with his radar gun hanging out the window.”

Josh laughed at the mental image. His mom always did have a way with words that was more coarse than the other moms. He knew Craig’s mom would have a conniption fit if she heard someone talking like that.

She’d always been way more straight laced. Almost to the point of having a stick up her ass. Even if Josh had discovered he enjoyed looking at that ass as he got older. Though he tried not to be obvious about it, because he figured that wasn’t the sort of thing a holy roller would appreciate.

“Fine. I’m coming,” he said.

He walked through the house quickly, careful to keep the spear from the walls and the woodwork. The last thing he needed was to put a scratch on the dark wood paneling and really give his mom something to be upset about.

He also made sure to keep it away from the carpet. The last thing he wanted was to cut even a piece of that loose, even though he always thought the shaggy carpeting was disgusting and prone to getting shit stuck in it.

Literally, sometimes, when Mr. Whiskers didn’t feel like going to his litter box in a timely manner.

They stepped out the front door and he paused again. The moon was doing that weird thing where it hung so low that he had a good idea of its actual size. He’d read in a book that it was something about perspective. When the moon hung high in the sky it was difficult for the mind to compare to anything, so it was hard to determine its actual size.

When it hung low over the horizon like this it was a lot easier for the mind to compare it to things people knew the size of. Like power lines and trees and houses off in the distance. So it looked bigger even though it never actually changed size.

The moon was an orange red color tonight. Almost like it was covered in blood. He shivered in anticipation staring at it, and licked his lips.

In his mind he ran through the woods in darkness. There was something in those woods with him, though he didn’t know what it was. But it was big.

His friends had gone hunting plenty before. Uncle Cody went hunting plenty. Though he’d never gone on one of those expeditions.

No. The idea of obliterating Bambi’s brains had never appealed to him. There was something unfair about sitting in a tree stand waiting for the deer to come along so he could ice it from a distance.

And he’d never been interested in doing more than target practice with the bows Uncle Cody preferred.

He hefted his spear. That was hunting. It felt more fair than using a gun or a bow. For all that his friends had disagreed and asked him why he bothered with a stupid spear when they had guns that could do the job from a distance.

Whatever. They’d also seemed a little more respectful after he showed off how the thing worked against a bear. Even if the “bear” in this case was Uncle Cody hamming it up.

“Josh? What’s with you tonight?”

He blinked and turned to look at his mom. She stood by the station wagon looking even more irritated than before, if that was possible. He knew he was walking a thin line where he might end up going to the church with her rather than going out to Craig’s house.

That would ruin the evening.

Okay. So it wouldn’t be totally ruined. She’d probably drop him off after she was done socializing with all her church friends. But they wouldn’t have any time to play Craig’s new Super Nintendo, and he might miss out on some of the good home cooking.

Craig’s mom might be uptight thanks to her idea of what Jesus thought about things, usually those thoughts were suspiciously close to how she looked at the world, but the woman could cook. There was no doubt about that.

“I’m coming,” he said, pulling out the back door on the station wagon and carefully putting the spear down so it faced towards the back door and not towards the front.

He knew he was probably being paranoid, but the last thing he wanted was to have the spear fly through the car and hit one of them in the back if they got in an accident.

He’d seen what the thing could do to a fake bear, after all, and Uncle Cody didn’t pull any punches when he helped them make the things.

No. The weapon was as real as could be, and he didn’t want to be on the business end of it, thank you very much.

“So do you want to tell me what’s got you so distracted?” his mom asked when he climbed into the front seat. “Thinking of a lady friend or something?”

“What?” he asked, his eyes going wide as he turned to look at her.

“What? You’re getting older. You’re going to be a junior next year. Not even next year. In a month. Hell. When Cody finishes fixing up that old rust bucket you won’t need me to drive you around like this anymore.”

Josh thought he detected a hint of sadness there. Like maybe she wasn’t looking forward to the day he wouldn’t need her to drive him around, for all that she complained about being his taxi an awful lot.
“Yeah, time marches on,” he said with a shrug.

“Time marches on,” she said, sounding a little sad again as she said it. “And my little baby keeps getting a thousand yard stare. I remember what that was like. I was the same way when I met your dad.”

“Gross, Mom,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and someday you’re going to have kids you make with some pretty lady you made eyes at, and those kids are going to think it’s gross you were attracted to your future wife. Heaven forbid.”

“Can we stop talking about this?”

“Of course,” she said, grinning at him. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you by bringing up Lisa Connors, after all.”

The absolute last thing he wanted was to have a conversation with his mother about Lisa Connors. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about her.

Okay. So maybe he was pretty sure how he felt about her. He felt pretty damn good when he looked at her. Even then, he wasn’t sure if he was head over heels in love, or if he just liked the way she looked in those tight T-shirts and jeans she wore that always pushed the limits of the school dress code.

Sure she was fun to talk to. Sure they hung out sometimes when he was over at Craig’s. Sure they spent a couple of days together at the county fair this summer. Her outfits then had been something to behold outside school and oppressive dress codes. Wearing a tank top that barely covered anything. And when she leaned over…

A snapping in front of his face brought him back to reality. He shook his head and turned, seeing his mom sitting there in the car staring at him.

Though he couldn’t help thinking about the county fair, and how much he was looking forward to next summer if he could look forward to spending more time with Lisa. Even if he was looking forward to going back to school, too. Fall was one of his favorite times of year, after all.

Football season was starting up, and there would be games and dances and all kinds of fun. Not to mention the fall festival, and the haunted corn maze the school always put on every year to raise money.

Craig would also be close to getting his day in the sun. Maybe a little closer than before after…
His mind slid around that. He didn’t want to think about what happened out in the countryside back in June. A counterpoint to the fun at the county fair. And there were all the rumors. People saying it was the Beast, though in his opinion it was probably just some maniac or serial killer passing through and the local cops were too incompetent to find who did it so they blamed the very fictional local urban legend.

Either way they finally wouldn’t be the low men on the totem pole. Sure they wouldn’t rule the school like the seniors, but they were close.

He even found himself hoping maybe Lisa would be part of the fall fun, though he was a little surprised at that thought. Maybe he’d see how things went tonight if they played flashlight tag
“Are you okay?” his mom asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, though he didn’t feel fine.

“Because you got that thousand yard stare again. Were you thinking about Lisa?”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” he muttered, really not wanting to get into this.

“Sure you weren’t,” she said, hitting him with a thin smile that said she knew exactly what he was thinking. Which had him blushing. The last thing he needed was his mom knowing what he was thinking about Lisa and her tank top.

“Anyway,” she said, turning the car on and backing out of the driveway. “I really am going to be late to church, and I know you don’t want to be stuck there all night.”

“Hey,” he said, staring out the window and up at the full moon just rising over the neighbor’s house across the street. “You’re the one sitting here talking about my nonexistent love life. I figure if we’re late now that’s totally on you.”

“My kid the lawyer,” she said, rolling her eyes. Then she reached out and tousled his hair. Which he’d always hated. “But don’t sell yourself short. You might not have a nonexistent love life for long. You’re a cute kid.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the women at the school want to date a cute kid, Mom,” he said, rolling his eyes. “All the girls my age go for older guys, and the older girls are all with guys who have jobs or went off to college.”

Though Lisa wasn’t with anyone. And she seemed to go out of her way to hang out with him, for all that he didn’t understand why. And there was the way she smiled at him.

For all that he knew a lot of guys who talked about the one time she smiled at them. Even if it was back in like seventh grade. He didn’t want to be that guy.

“You might be surprised, kiddo,” she said, grinning at him. “Those guys who go off to college are going to find their own temptations out there, and not all the girls go for the older guys.”

“Whatever,” he muttered.

His mom gunned the engine on their station wagon. Which couldn’t go all that fast to begin with, but she made it seem plenty peppy today. He was pressed back into his seat, and he quickly scrambled to pull his seat belt on.

The station wagon was new enough that it started digging at you if you didn’t have your seat belt on. Which was annoying, but he figured it saved lives. Maybe.

“Damn, Mom,” he hissed as he watched the houses zip past. “Are you trying to win the Indy 500 or something?”

“Or something,” she said, a look of grim determination on her face. “Now let’s just hope we don’t run into any cops on the way out to Craig’s, right?”

“Right.”

He turned and looked out the window again. Maybe the houses were rushing past fast enough they were turning into a blur, but he could still see the moon hanging there in the sky.

It didn’t quite call to him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something off about tonight. Something very wrong lurking out there.

Something out there that would be coming for him. Maybe they’d run into the Beast tonight, and he wasn’t thing about the bitching roller coaster over in Ohio.

Then he shook his head and dismissed those thoughts. It was ridiculous. It’s not like the Beast was real, for all that he’d grown up with the same stories as everyone else.

For all that he’d heard the same rumors about what had happened at that old abandoned barn in June. That was a few weeks before the county fair, for all that Lisa and her tank tops had distracted him from the grisly rumors swirling around back when it happened.

The football team already wasn’t supposed to do so great this year, but now they were in even worse shape. For all that Craig seemed to love the idea. Brad’s misfortune was his fortune, and the two of them had never gotten along.

It didn’t help that Craig always seemed to be hanging out near Tracy Talbot, which never struck Josh as a good idea since she was dating Brad. And Brad had a temper. Not that he’d ever done anything to Craig.

Craig was even bigger than Brad, which probably helped. Not that being big saved Brad from being ripped to shreds if the rumors were to be believed.

Which put Craig in line to be the big man on campus this year no that Brad was dead. Whenever a door closes another one opens, even if the door is a grisly murder.

Josh pushed those thoughts away. He was in high school now, damn it. He’d be able to drive soon enough, and he wasn’t going to let some silly old legend scare him.

Though as he stared out the window, he realized he wasn’t scared when he thought of the Beast. Not really. No, there was that tingle of anticipation again. Like he wanted to run into the thing with his spear in hand.

That would be a hell of a lot more exciting than blowing Bambi’s brains out from the safety of a tree stand covered in fake deer piss, that was for damn sure.

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