u/KyleKKent

First

(This one didn’t want to happen, and then hit like a hammer. The Muse is doing... something.)

Undying Blues

They left him alone in his chambers. With his projects left to build. His thoughts to himself. Disturbed. Upset. Unhappy.

Before this day his most violent release had seen him in a holographic chamber, flailing against a mirror opponent that had their appearance shift. He had been most violent when they resembled certain members of his clientele. He had never... killed before. He had never...

His arm shakes as he tries to contain everything roiling inside him. His control is nowhere near where it should be, his reactions are... he’s falling victim to whatever the horror inside him is.

He fills the bath shortly and the water is so hot as to be nearly scalding. The club is set nearby, he discards the tattered remains of his robe and steps in.

It’s hot enough to hurt. Much hotter and he would begin to burn. But he needs the pain to focus. To get full control again. The thing inside him. It either was, or was derived from the thing that had somehow ruined an entire world. Some kind of pathogen. He had been deliberately infected and was not certain if he himself was infectious.

Has he passed this to Sue’Li? Was she already infected before meeting him? How much control did this thing have over him?

He considers as he carefully gathers up what soaps are available and slowly cleans himself. The proper and civilized action brings him further and further away from the savagery that screamed to be unleashed. It was louder than before.

Many of his clients, and for a long time he himself, referred to the indulgent, greedy and gluttonous side of the Ibu as their inner animal. His own was straining the chain hard.

He should not have fed it. But it had gone unfed for so long it had outright slipped the chains. But whatever was inside him had loosened the chains.

The door opens and from the sound of the cloth and the general gait he can tell it’s not Sue’Li or any of her people even before The Usurper walks into sight.

“Your pardon, but I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to rise at the moment.” He says as he lathers himself up. Trying to get the mental sensation of the gore off him. There wasn’t even a speck on his person but... the more time passed since the massacre he performed the less he liked it.

“You are pardoned oh little one.” She says and there’s a near purring tone to her voice. He doesn’t falter in his movements, but he does recognize the danger. She’s much more attracted to him now and he’s not exactly in a position where he can refuse without enormous consequence.

“I must apologize for my unseemly display. It is my duty to ensure that others are permitted to indulge, not to indulge myself and...” She crouches down and puts a finger to his tusk. The Ibu variant of a finger to another’s lips.

“There is no shame in what you did. It is our nature to require release. Indeed we defy it when we put on the trappings of civilization.” She answers and her tone is more... maternal now? That’s an interesting angle for her to take.

“I see. Speaking of civilization. What more can you tell me about this... thing in me? If you will not name it, can you better explain it’s origin? Those Vish clearly had some form of it, one similar to that man, Geninji.”

“Genengi. She says and considers. He was the first but not the last. Silence and darkness could give them back their minds for a time. But the slightest stimulation could set them off. In the end the last time they saw light before I incinerated his peers was just before I captured them. Winnowing their numbers even as I gathered more and more information.”

“And what did it tell you?”

“That the plague had arrived some fifty years before. A mere five decades before I arrived a woman proved herself unkillable in battle. She went on a rampage against all who wronged her and when the state caught her and tried to put her to death for mass murder, everything failed. Her head had been removed and she stood again.”

“And it spread from there?” He asks.

“It did, it turns out that she was spreading the source of her immortality and many were already blessed. But they weren’t worthy of the blessing. And so it turned to a curse.”

“And what makes you think that I am worthy of such a blessing?”

“You are still speaking to me. You went into the depths of madness and drew yourself back out. You are sane, reasonable and rational. Good blood has proven through.”

“More likely good training. There have been family members that failed.” Danburi says in a pained tone. Will she take the bait?

“Failed, or were failed?” The Usurper asks and he looks up to match her gaze. She bit down on the bait yes, but was that actually a useful answer? Hard to say, but something to remember.

“Either way, self mastery is not in blood alone. It is training, discipline.” He says and she simply smiles. Playing back hunh? Not very useful. But still useful. “Regardless, you have a story and I have an interest milady. Care to continue?”

“Oh, yes I would care to continue.” She says with a smile before snapping her fingers and a chair is produced by Sue’Li who had not revealed herself to Danburi and had clearly entered after The Usurper.

“Thank you milady and... I’m terribly sorry it just feels so rude of me to simply refer to you as milady or my lady. Even if it is not your proper name, some appellation for you would be most appreciated.” He asks with a smile and she huffs in amusement.

“And you don’t trust yourself to name me as you did your assistant?” She asks and he raises an eyebrow.

“Sue’Li did not have a proper name. You do.” He states and she nods.

“And if I told you I wanted that name, what would you think?”

“I would think you were being most rude and obstinate madam.” He states in a testy tone and she outright laughs.

“You may use the term Ungora for me.”

“Ungora, Coastal Ibu’Cjeo for matriarch. Very well Lady Ungora, thank you for the kindness.”

“You are exceptionally well learned aren’t you?”

“I would assume that you would be quite familiar with my education, otherwise you’ve expended a great deal of resources and taken quite the risk upon yourself for an unknown.”

“Oh everyone is an unknown child. Until you see them in action you have no way of knowing if they took to their studies in the slightest, or if there was anything more to them than the studies. To say nothing of how a person responds in an unknown situation.” Ungora states.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I know what you’re doing.” She says to him and he raises an eyebrow.

“I think it’s fairly obvious what I’m doing.” He says and she nods before reaching over and her finger flicks around the back of his horn. She pulls back with the grain of khutha and smiles.

“If you weren’t a fighter I wouldn’t have taken you. If you weren’t cunning I wouldn’t have taken you. If you weren’t loyal then I wouldn’t have taken you. Every reason I took you is another thing you will fight me with, I do not expect you to submit, indeed I expect you to fight. And fight. And fight.” She says.

“And I suppose I’m about to be punished.”

“Not at all! I applaud loyalty, cunning and patience. Even if the target of your loyalty is most unworthy.” She says and he sighs.

“I just don’t understand why La’ahbaron.” He states frankly and her eyebrows go up. “No truly, think of it. You clearly have the forces, resources and drive to conquer, but why La’ahbaron? Why fellow Ibu? You could have set up a new empire anywhere, why fight for one? Why slaughter people uninvolved in your ambitions and desires if you don’t have to?”

“My ambition is to rule, yes. But my desires? I am fulfilling them, piece by piece. You are part of that. Sue’Li is part of that. Your grandmother is part of that, your aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters, nieces and nephews are all part of it as are the people they rule over.”

“I find it hard to believe you have so involved and far seeing a plan considering how you acted before.”

“Do you think you’re the only one in this room that finds violence to be cathartic beyond all things?” She asks and Danburi nods.

“I thought you were dead, Lady Wurana.” He says and she pauses.

“... I was wondering what piece would give it away.” Wurana states. “But I did die, I found life everlasting when I was looking for death beyond death. I found immortality when I was looking for a way to destroy my own soul to make the pain stop.”

“Lady Ungora then?” He asks.

“Yes.” She says and he casts his mind back. His third indulgence. The THIRD time he had ever helped someone relieve themselves had been Lady Wurana, she had wept without end, drunk without pausing for breath and he had to stop her from drowning in her own vomit. She had broken his nose in return.

“You have made a recovery beyond anything I could give you.”

“I’ve changed. A lot.” She says before smiling. “Still, I didn’t forget that kindness. If you weren’t so resolute in your duties even back then, I wouldn’t be here. Although it took you some time to recognize me.”

“It’s been over a century, and we only met in person the once. I apologize for it taking so long.” Danburi says nearly biting his tongue as he thinks of and then dismisses a thousand and one topics. He’s in danger, severe danger.

“It’s surprising I’m remembered at all, for all that it took so long. I would have thought I was completely forgotten.”

“You weren’t. Your statue still stands in the hall of heroes. Your likeness still in stone and old name stamped in Axiom Ride.”

“That’s going to be one of the first things that change. All the useless extravagances stripped from the palaces and castles and put to the military.”

“... Does this mean I should stop crafting the Discretion Palaces?” He asks.

“No, those are needed.” She answers.

“And what about honouring the fallen and brave?” He asks.

“The dead don’t need Axiom Ride.” She says and he bites on his tongue. His first through fifth responses are to ask a rather pointed question that’s likely to infuriate the immortal warlady. And as an immortal himself, there is no real limit to the harm she can cause him. She catches the look in his eye. “And no, I haven’t forgotten them. But the living don’t need memorials.”

“What?! Your children were interred with full honours! They can’t be... the memorial! It was one of the first casualties in the opening of the war. You plundered their tombs and... did something.”

“Oh did something did I? Some Wimparas tart who had power handed to her revives the recently dead and she’s a goddess. I do it to the long dead and it’s: plundered their tomb and did something.”

“How?” He asks and her hand lashes out and he flinches back, spilling half the water on the floor. But she stops. The lower left side of his torso. Right on top of the numbness. The thing inside him that won’t let him die. She smiles at him.

“That’s how.”

“What do you want from me, really?” He asks.

“I want you to be a courtesan. The best courtesan, refined yet fierce. Mother cannot win little nephew. I know everything and I cannot die, my forces are inexhaustible and of unfailing loyalty. Even if the whole galaxy stands beside La’ahbaron, she dies.”

“But, she’s family! She’s your mother!”

“She’s Wurana’s mother.”

“It’s still kinslaying.” He half whispers.

“And her endless wars and paranoia slaughtering my children wasn’t?” Ungora asks before leaning over the tub and making sure to look him dead in the eyes even as he shrinks back as the fullness of the situation hammers in like blows from an orojo. “I gave everything to La’ahbaron and all I received was emptiness and misery so profound that even your best work could only keep me alive long enough to decide I needed more than mere death to stop the pain. La’ahbaron, empire and woman both, deserves to die.”

“Why does the empire deserve it?”

“They are complicit.”

“And... and your own forces? The endless Vish you send to their death?”

“We are crafted to serve.” Sue’Li says and he turns to see her fully. “Death is just an end of service.”

He turns back to Ungora as he tries to make some sense. His subversion has been wiped away, how much he cannot say, he knows who is holding him and it’s just made things far, far worse. But how did she return the dead to life?

“My cousins, how are they?” He asks and there is a flicker there. It’s gone almost as soon as it arrives. She’s not certain.

“They’re recovering.” She says.

“Any way I could help with that, honoured aunt?” He asks slowly and there it is again. Uncertainty. She’s been lying to him. At least in part. Likely to herself as well.

“No, not yet. They’re not ready for you yet.” She says and he nods.

“Of course Honoured Aunt. Now may I please have some privacy as I finish my bath?” He asks.

“Did you not want to hear more about how I learned of and mastered immortality?” She asks and his mind races for a moment. Then he steels himself despite his now pounding head and offers a smile.

“Yes, yes I do.” He answers.

First Last

First

Undying Blues

“And make sure that we have properly padded floors. Silken, and in a lovely green.”

“Madam, please I’m a professional. The floor needs stability in some rooms so you can eat your food without spilling it all over yourself and ruining the fun. Others will be well padded, and there will be multiple different colours that we can swap out at will.” Danburi remarks even as he carefully carves the tiny amount of khutha he’s been trusted with for the project.

A ‘nervous rub’ of one of his horns hides a tiny grain of khutha on his person. No larger than a piece of fine sand.

It’s not a lot. But with a new habit established he can smuggle Khutha while being directly observed by a high end enemy commander.

“So...” He begins and there is an almost warning growl. “Oh calm down Lady Alicent, I’m not an imbecile. I’ll avoid the topics you clearly don’t want to hear.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Merely to ask if your preference for green is prevalent. If the other ladies will prefer green decorations, then it makes it a higher priority to craft it.” He notes.

“What do you think?”

“I think it is unwise to make assumptions milady. You’ve very well disabused me of the notion that I can simply ask questions without consequences.” He says. “Still, if I am in dangerous territory...”

“They prefer blue.” She says and he pauses.

“Very well then. I will bear that in mind.”

“That’s it?” She asks as he finishes the first Axiom totem.

“Are you asking in regards to the totem?” He asks her.

“No, not... shut up!” She shouts and he simply tilts his head and continues to work. She’s going to be hard to subvert or get a proper grip on. Prickly girl.

“Well, in regards to the totem, to sustain someone being shrunken down without shrinking down their repast or causing any difficulty means that one must play fairly fast and loose with Axiom. It’s why we cannot automate this process, it requires custom, constant updating from a live courtesan.” Danburi explains.

“Really?”

“Yes, now I do have a question I hope is not in the least offensive because it’s entirely here to benefit you.”

“And what would that be?” She asks tartly.

“What alcohols and meals should I be looking to stock up on for your pleasure?” He asks.

“And what makes you think I would want anything to do with you?!” She demands.

“Milady, even if you don’t want to so much as see me when relaxing, I am going to be the one preparing your session and maintaining it. Should you somehow manage to drink a cup of your favourite indulgence when it’s twice your size, I shall refill it. But first I would like to know exactly what I’m refilling for you.” He says and she glowers at him.

“Do you think this is a game?”

“I’ve been effectively murdered thrice already, if this is some kind of game then the penalties for losing points is well and truly beyond anything I had ever imagined possible.”

“Thrice?”

“The Lady with some kind of spear launched from some kind of tension device. Then asphyxiation shredded my lungs, and finally your displeasure with me.” Danburi answers.

“Bet a royal brat like you never knew pain before.”

“You would be correct in the physical sphere.” He notes.

“...” She doesn’t take the bait he just offered, but he can feel her discomfort.

He starts slowly putting together a padded panel for The Discretion Palaces and softly starting to hum the La’ahbaron Anthom. He stops when Alicent draws her Orojo.

“I would like to hum, do you have a preferred song?”

“No.”

“Pity.” He notes and then simply hums without tune to help him focus.

“Stop that.” She says and he sighs.

“Very well.” He accommodates and continues to work in silence.

“That’s it?” She demands.

“Ma’am, HOW am I upsetting you? I have accommodated every request, what can I possibly do to make you happy?” He asks. He knows she’s looking for a fight. But he has a role to play, he knows others are watching.

“Do you have no spine? No grit in your gut!? Are you just some... do you have no pride as an Ibu!?”

“Of course I have pride. I am an Ibu after all.” Danburi says.

“Prove it!”

“... Ma’am. To be Ibu is to live in balance between Indulgence and Restraint. It is not yet time, nor safe for me to Indulge.”

“Are you afraid?”

“This is not the place.” He asserts.

“What is the place?”

“A place reinforced. For the sake of violence.” Danburi notes blandly and then raises an eyebrow as she walks up and grabs him via the arm. “May I put down my tools and supplies first?”

She allows him to put things down and then lets himself be dragged through the ship, paying attention as he goes. Sue’Li is following but clearly too terrified of Alicent to do anything as he’s hauled directly into a portal and they’re suddenly in a part of the compound that has white lighting.

A large reinforced door is opened and he’s hurled in.

“Violence is it?” She asks him as he skids to a stop and rises up. “Violence it is then! Unslayn! Kill this man!”

“Unslayn?” He asks and there are roars as he takes stock of the room fully. It seems to just be a cube but heavily reinforced and...

Doors open and screaming figures pour in from the sides. Vish all, but something is seriously... there’s something... else in them. Something he can’t really perceive.

The first to reach him are unarmed and they bite at him. His skin is impervious to their attacks. At first.

Axiom is used and his flesh breaks. He screams and lets go of his restraint.

Fist crashes into jaw before fingers wrap around necks and he starts to thrash. Bones start breaking because even without augmented strength he’s still an enormous man and far from weak.

He lashes out to bury his feet in stomachs and rolls before rushing up and trying to impale women on his smaller horns, blood floes, there are screams and he vaguely recognizes that swords are slashing at him. Then into him. He twists his arms around them and rolls to rip them out He swings them, but he has neither grace nor elegance left and shatters the swords even as more and more armed Vish pour in to attack him.

No one is dying. Foes he’s brutalized rise up again as their necks slide back into place and then there is another scream.

An orojo has crashed through a dozen of them and he grabs it and starts swinging. He can’t get control again, the rage is out. The rage is everything and the sheer frustration at his situation powers his swing of the ridiculously heavy mace. Then he’s wreathed in electricity as his rage makes him immune to pain and Axiom starts flowing despite the punishing bracelets.

He roars as sparks of energy arc between his bloodstained teeth and tusks as his immaculate hair sticks up into an unholy mess even as the gore of his enemies wets it down and his movements tear the robes above the waist as he attacks, crushes, bites, roars and lets it all lose.

He feels things breaks, feels bodies crushed and metal break.

Time loses all meaning, his senses swim with blood and burning rage and the flame burns and BURNS and when sense comes back he’s panting in a gore drenched room, teeth and bones and severed body parts are all around him, but no complete bodies. A field of shattered weapons surround him and his grip on the orojo is so fierce that when he lets it go his handprint is indented into the handle.

He keeps it balanced as he looks over the room. The taste of blood and bone in his mouth before he reaches up and pulls out a chunk of still bloody flesh from between his teeth. His bracers are gone and the room is locked down and buzzing with power.

He takes a few deep breaths and the smell of the gore around him is... exciting. Desirous. He wants more. He wants EVERYONE to feel his RAGE. He wants everyone who even THOUGHT they could slight HIM to be broken beneath his club and render them down into a paste!

He takes the feelings and pushes them down into his chest. Opposite of his heart and loks them away. He then re-examines the room. Severe damage along the reinforcements. Enough broken teeth and fangs to make an entire line of jewellery. Shattered weapons by the legion and enough blood, torn skin and entrails he could potentially drown in it if the room were perhaps half the size. As it is, it’s up to the top of his feet.

The door opens on the opposite side and he beholds Alicent smiling broadly. Behind her are the Ibu’Dwoov and behind them all is The Usurper.

“Now, will any of you be doubting me again?” She asks them.

“Not at all milady. He’s clearly... yes... Ferocity is baked into him.” The Ibu’Dwoov on the left says.

“Oh yes. He’s perfect.” The one on the right replies.

“I’m going to need to craft a new Orojo, that one is clearly his now.” Alicent says before he pulls at his hair and finds that it’s been basically plastered behind him as a mane with broken teeth peppering it.

“This is why me isn’t it?” He asks and there’s a laugh. The Usurper claps her hands in amusement.

“One of them!” She answers. “Of all the grand courtesans you are not only the finest, but the fiercest. The others merely drink away, but you? You rage, you are fierce and I just need to place that ferocity somewhere useful. Do you even remember who or how many people you’ve just broken?”

“The Unslayn? I presume that means a force that has these same... effects as are within us and...”

“No, not the same. The weaker version. The lesser version. Empowering the least of ours. It makes them violent and only time in darkness and silence can tame them. Like Genenji.” The Usurper explains and he nods.

“I suppose I should have suspected you would use a greater variant than what plagued that world. All those others were using a lesser variant?” He asks.

“Could you tell? For all you know we had some war captives.” The Usurper says and he sucks in a breath before thinking hard. It’s... a blur. A serious blur, but... there were only Vish in there.

“No it... it couldn’t be. It... it... oh no.” She’s going to use this isn’t she. It had... it had looked horrifying. It will no doubt be used to change the opinion of any Vish he starts to subvert.

Or not. He’ll have to see.

“So does this mean I get to keep the Orojo?” He asks holding up the club.

“It does. But if you use it outside of defending yourself or indulging your needs, then it will be lost and you will have the restraining bracers reapplied.” The Usurper says and at that reminder he glances around, but they’re under the gore somewhere. He rests the club against his shoulder and walks up and looks from face to face.

“So... has... whatever difficulty you were having with me passed? And if so... could someone tell me where I could find a bath? I’m in desperate need of one and would rather not track blood through my quarters.” He says.

“Can you not clean yourself with Axiom?” Alicent asks and he sighs before pulling and drawing all the blood, teeth, gore and more off his person and throwing it back into the room. Then pointing downwards. “That did no favours for your hair.”

“No it did not. I am also still standing in blood.” Danburi states. “So... could we please have a place where I could at least wash off my feet before returning to my quarters to bathe properly?”

“You’re clean.”

“Proper bathing is more than just not being dirty, it also means to have the proper and appropriate soaps and perfumes applied. I look like a serial killer and smell like it as well.” He notes.

“I don’t know, I kinda like the half feral man look.” Alicent remarks with a tap on her tusks.

“And what did the image of me in the throws of unreasoning wrath look?”

“Delicious.”

“I see. So may I presume that I will require kinetic applications of care to see to your needs?” He asks.

“Hmm... maybe.” She replies.

“Delightful.” He remarks, keeping the sheer disdain out of his tone.

First Last

First

It’s Inevitable

“I suppose this was to be expected.” Observer Wu notes as he uncovers a trinity of hard drives in his desk. On the sides of each one is a name. Philip B Masterson, Anastasia Stepanova and Koga Daiju.

Each one is reinforced solid state. The information on them could potentially survive the destruction of the vessel. Functionally impossible for it to be lost in the transition to Cruel Space. Which is a heavy reminder he needs to double, triple and quadruple time the transfer of his already collected data into similar drives to prevent it from being disrupted.

So he has to put aside the extremely tempting information and coms his media team. “This is Observer Wu, our allies have just reminded me about the importance of proper solid state information. What’s our progress in this regard?”

“Sir, all data prior to Zalwore are properly transferred into Null hardened storage, and we’re about a quarter of the way through that. But we’re going to need some extra manpower to get it all before our predicted transfer into Cruel Space.”

“I see, I’ll have legal stop trying to decipher the laws for now and focus on assisting you in this manner, they can point out the enormous loopholes and flaws in galactic law AFTER we have everything down.”

“Also I was going to have some of my staff assist with this.” Harold’s voice states from the other side.

“Mister Jameson... pardon. Captain Jameson I wasn’t aware you were in there.”

“I’ve been getting into the habit of inspecting ships from a more managerial mindset than my previous security focus, I noticed the lack of progress here and was about to offer suggestions when you called sir.”

“I see, and yes that would be of use.”

“Most of the data transfer is simply a process that needs more people to have more tools and to wait as they transfer. I can easily get a small team to bring in a larger number of required components and double, if not triple the current capacity within twelve hours. That should see you with time to spare.”

“Make it so Captain Jameson, thank you for the assistance. I’m sure legal would be thankful as well if they knew how close they came to being pried out of their hidey hole.” Observer Wu notes and there’s a huff of amusement.

“Hmm... I think they should be checked on regardless. I... Pardon, Herbert legally lost his soul for a bit thanks to legal shenanigans.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The lawyers on The Dauntless had some fun during the long trip over. They didn’t have the insane, convoluted and often contradictory laws to amuse them from the wider galaxy. So they got up to trouble.”

“... Really?”

“Yes really, it’s also how Demon got his nickname. The man looks like the missing link but is so damn whip smart and contract wise he reversed the nonsense and got a fair number of the contracts. Before Admiral Cistern put a stop to things of course.” Harold says.

“Get up here Captain I want to ask some questions about that and I’d rather to it face to face.”

“On the double or just below the sound barrier?”

“Don’t you threaten the sound barrier on this ship boy. Get up here as if you’re a reasonable human being.”

“... A reasonable human being. I’m not even sure what that looks like. But I’ll be there soon.” Harold says in a joking tone. “Oh, and fair warning. I have my daughter Rain with me, she’s basically shadowing me as part of her officer training.”

“Rain. As in Unending Rain of Torment, as in the Vishanyan woman who is likely older than the person you were cloned off of and is temporarily a teenager.”

“Yes sir.”

“As in the special forces spy and assassin that you helped subvert months ago and who is, need I remind you, substantially older than you are. That daughter?”

“Yes. Is something wrong sir?”

“... No. It’s just that sometimes the absurdity of the situation hits me clean in the face and I need to remind myself that this is somehow real.” Observer Wu notes.

“Deep breaths my friend. You’re nearly through.” Harold replies. “I’m on my way.”

“Fair enough.” Observer Wu replies and lets the line die.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his nose. The sensation of the absurdity hitting in the face is nearly literal. This has been the strangest year of his life and it’s nowhere near finished. He’s going to need a long and hopefully nearly entirely technology free vacation afterwards.

Perhaps some hut in a tropical region? Food delivered by the day and not needing to worry about anything other than what he wears and to apply sun lotion when appropriate. Just time with him and his wife and fruity drinks that take the stress away. Not even the children and the pets in the care of his son.

He wants a lot of things right now. But he’ll have them later. Right now, right now he needs to talk about literally soul stealing lawyers to a man who can see spirits and his substantially older than himself bio engineered daughter.

The sensation that he’s been punched in the face returns and he just breathes steadily to take in the madness and move past it’s influence.

He keeps himself in this semi-meditive state for a few minutes then there is a slight ding from the door. Harold is on the other side. “Enter.”

He puts his glasses back on and raises an eyebrow when he sees the pastel blue Rain follow Harold in, both in officer uniforms.

“... Is her training focused on growing comfortable being seen?” Observer Wu asks.

“That’s part of it sir. A Commanding Officer needs to be seen by their troops in order to actually relay their orders, and while she’s currently training to be a bridge officer, she will still need to be entirely visible to other bridge officers and able to communicate with them. Getting over her natural predilection for stealth and shyness is just the first step.” Harold says. “Now, you’re concerned about souls being potentially stolen I take it?”

“Yes, in light of recent... revelations it stands to reason that such a potential problem needs to be looked into.”

“Paper doesn’t influence souls. Even if you have Ode running through you, you can’t compel a soul with a contract.” Harold answers easily. “But we didn’t know at the time so just in case things got out of hand, we made sure nothing like that was there.”

“That’s a relief. Have you tested it?”

“Herbert tested it. He basically had a whole day dedicated to trying to use any language, wording or type of contract to take possession of someone’s soul or have them take his. Nothing happened. He was fine and no one took or lost anything.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, big waste of time, even when he tried to use one of the first totems we got from Lakran Two Nine Seven to let him infuse it, it meant nothing. You can’t lawyer your way into having a person’s soul.”

“Very good. That’s a relief.” Observer Wu remarks now...

He’s interrupted by Harold’s communicator going off in an extremely urgent tone and before the second blare it’s to his ear.

“Harold Jameson with Observer Wu and Trainee Officer Rain.” He answers immediately listens for a moment and nods. “Send me the information. All of it.”

He hangs up and looks pensive.

“What’s wrong?” Observer Wu asks.

“We’ve identified an enemy asset and it’s not looking good.”

“In what way?”

“Haffara Thar. A parasite that spreads like a virus. It uses hosts to germinate further broods and spread through differing means between types. They induce immortality and madness in their victims. Rendering them unable to die and increasingly unstable.”

“Oh...”

“In particular we are dealing with the Silver Variant. It causes minimal mutations in people, but reproduces at a much higher rate and will force massive mutations and alterations in non-person subjects. However the minimal mutations in a person can and will drive them to grow ever more egocentric and violent over time, eventually ending with them utterly dismissive, if not amused to the pain and suffering in others.”

“I see.”

“There are four planets currently under quarantine as debates are being had on how and if they should preserve the local flora and fauna when they wipe out the creatures. Many hardliners believe anything touched by a Haffara Thar are inherently tainted and need to be destroyed completely...” Harold says.

“Wait. It’s in a piece of the Dark Forest.” Rain states.

“Yes.” Harold states.

“Does this mean it’s going to take over other things, infest them further and give us an entire hostile biosphere?” Rain asks.

“We don’t know. We may need to get creative.” Harold notes.

“Creative?”

“Null and napalm, or maybe Null and nuke. We need to shut down the Haffara Thar and then kill the host to keep both down.” Harold says in a considering tone.

“And if that doesn’t work?” Observer Wu asks and Harold looks thoughtful.

“I looked into them a little, they are vulnerable to poisons, but the saturation level they need is at the point that... well you or I wouldn’t walk out alive.” Harold says as he thinks. “We need to understand the life cycles and transfer vector of these things. If I can tell when and what prompts them to reproduce, then maybe we can kill it that way without slaughtering the hosts. But entire organizations and cults are based on hunting these things, and they resort to fire. Burning entire worlds to ash to contain the threat.”

“... I need to think on this. Enemy elites that can’t actually die and can infect our troops with madness is not something that’s easy to deal with. If you’ll excuse me, I’m heading to the RAD, I need to start brainstorming and seeing if we can’t find something that might help.”

“You’re excused.” Observer Wu says and he watches Harold leave with his eyes wide open. In moments he’s alone in his office. “Parasites that induce madness and immortality. Lovely. I’ll request a copy of the information from The Undaunted. It’s clear he’s going to have a hell of a time.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (The RAM, The Inevitable, Primary Laneway)•-•-•

“Immortal what? Flatworm?” One of the researchers asks and her Lutrin peer snorts.

“Haffara Thar actually come in several species. Standard Haffara Thar is highly mutagenic and has roughly four common variants, separated by what they cause their hosts to do and sometimes through method of transfer. We however are dealing with a fifth. Standard Brown Haffara Thar release large numbers of eggs into the digestive track of the victim, scavengers that feed of fecal matter then devour the nearly the microscopic eggs and then are compelled to find larger lifeforms to be devoured by until they move up the food chain over and over again until they’re in a person.” The Lutrin doctor says. “However, the important part of this is that the Haffara Thar will cause the victim to grow increasingly violent and respond further and further with aggression to any stimulation at all. The best method to calm down these victims is sensory deprivation, at which point they can be fully restrained in axiom scrambling devices then forced into a healing coma to kill the parasite.”

“Does this method of cleansing work with all known variants?” Harold asks.

“No, the parasite causes the patient to turn especially violent if exposed to a healing coma. But the Silver Variant is what we’re dealing with and it’s... more blatantly dangerous. Thankfully it’s also the slowest spreader, require direct skin to skin contact with the infected.”

“Skin to skin is NOT hard to accomplish for someone actively trying to spread a disease.” Harold muses. “What else do we know about the Silver Haffara Thar?”

“First off, it’s the most unnatural varient. It does not occur naturally and must be specifically cultivated and at enormous risk.”

“Keep going.”

“Silver Haffara Thar are a mutation of White Haffara Thar. Silvers are created when they’re stripped from their host, and the host’s flesh is devoured during a period where it’s incapacitated.”

“I assume this means that it has to be done by a person, otherwise silvers would be common.”

“You are correct. Silver Haffara Thar, while having the widest infection field, can only cause direct infection from physical contact and will not ever infest an already infested host. This actually keeps the numbers down as any environment where a Silver Haffara Thar can be produced is already one lousy with White in the animals, and Brown, Red and Blue Haffara Thar in the people.”

“Red and Blue?”

“Red Haffara Thar increase libido beyond what a person can control and pass through intercourse like an STD, Blue Haffara Thar induce suicidal hydrophillia and as the victims constantly drink, purge and drink again the eggs spread into the waterways. There are said to be other varients, but White, Blue, Red and Brown are the most common, we have Silver confirmed though which is a big problem.”

“It means that our enemy not only is unkillable in conventional combat, but also has a source of these entities and may have or have not infest ed other worlds. There’s also the issue of the sheer horror they’re inflicted on their troops and the potential that any of the heavily augmented Vish might be unable to die as well.”

“Potentially sir, from what I can tell though Silver Haffara Thar victims their kind of an elite for Haffara Thar infestations. Axiom Scrambling doesn’t work on them.”

“Say that again.” Harold states.

“Axiom scrambling does not work on Silver Haffara Thar victims. Trying to put one in a healing coma to kill the parasite always shatters the devices involved, and that’s even IF you can restrain them enough to force them into one.”

“... How do we know this?”

“Portals used around the body of a Victim. No matter how much they thrashed the bodily mechanics they worked with wouldn’t let them stop the process. The process failed anyways as the Axiom scrambling devices abruptly shattered, the victim tore themselves to pieces in a portal cut and then regenerated their limbs before going on a rampage. They were pinned into an airlock and launched out of the vessel before the primary plasma cannons reduced them to a memory.”

“... That’s as impressive as it is worrying.” Harold considers.

“How do you kill the immortal?” Rain asks.

“By tearing out it’s heart.” Harold replies before nodding. “Do we have any recordings of the process where they tried to purge a Silver Haffara Thar?”

“There are some.”

“Okay, does it include a visual of how the scramblers shattered?” He asks further.

“It does, what are you getting at sir?”

“I want you to compare it to our attempts to run Ode through Axiom based devices.”

“Ode? Really?”

“It’s a natural phenomenon, I’m not the first person with access to it. And we already know the Hargath can use it. So why not Haffara Thar?”

“Well that would... I mean... it would explain where the raw energy required to regenerate the hosts on that level comes from...”

“Then why would a healing coma kill them? Or fire or poison for that matter? Ode might as well be an acronym for Overpowered Divine Energy for how potent it is, why would anything with Ode lose to anything that doesn’t have it?”

“Something to figure out. Perhaps the silver ones can use it at a greater level than the others who can only use it for a power source. Maybe another reason. But we only have supposition at the moment. And until we get our hands on one of the damn things we won’t have more than that. So we work with what we have.” Harold states. “But I’m very interested in the poisons proven to work on them. Maybe we can find an answer in that direction?”

First Last Next

First

Undying Blues

His new chambers are near identical to his previous ones. Right down to the chains. A clear message in case he starts ‘acting up’ or fighting back.

Sue’Li shows him around the identical room and he offers her a smile and calmly looks around the room as he puts everything to memory. The gold is too soft a metal to be useful as a direct weapon against a mortal Ibu, let alone one that has somehow rendered herself unkillable. And the indirect way of forcing it down their air passageways hard enough to make it deform and fit likely wouldn’t work either.

He needs an angle, and thanks to Sue’Li he might have it.

“Hmm... The chambers are missing something important.” He notes.

“What? What’s missing?” Sue’Li asks.

“A Discretion Palace. Do you know what that is?” He asks her.

“I... do not.”

“It’s a special Axiom Totem designed to be used to shrink things down in some ways and not in others so that an Ibu may indulge to completeness. Essentially it resembles a toy that you would give to a more domestically oriented child. A play house of sorts, but there’s khutha worked in that shrinks certain people and allows you to place in samples of food or drink from other angles in advance. Essentially you prepare your favourite meals and drinks, place them in the house and then enter it and take the size of your own thumb.” He holds up his hand to demonstrate. “From there the simple cup of favoured drink you put in there is now so large you could bathe in it, and the small snack you put in is a feast so enormous that it would satisfy even the most ravenous Ibu.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, couple that with some artwork nearby to allow one to examine it at a truly impressive scale, or music playing so loudly that one can feel their bones shake, but all of it is contained and easily controlled thanks to the shrinking. Allowing one to indulge and entertain on a level worthy of an empress, but needing only the space of a child’s play thing and a pittance in the way of supplies.”

“Oh... that... hmm... That is an interesting thing.” Sue’Li states.

“It’s a fairly normal thing for a courtesan of my standing to use to entertain and keep the dignity of my clients while... well... when they’re not presentable.”

“Oh... uh...”

“I think it is fair to presume that when an expert has been... let’s say I’ve hired. But when a specialist is hired, I think we can safely expect them to be hired for their expertise.” He says and Sue’Li makes a pensive sound.

“I suppose...”

“Tell you what, why don’t we ask The Mistress in person? I’m certain that a simple yes or no request for what I need to perform my duties to the level expected of me wouldn’t go over poorly. She’s not that busy is she?” He asks and although he can only see her outline he can clearly see the gears turning in her head.

“Yes, that would be wise.”

“Excellent. Now, I don’t think we’re in a rush Sue’Li so let’s take the long way to not take up too many resources. Unless I have an appointment already. Do I?” He asks and she seems confused, but not upset. Just... confused, and in the way that is perfectly understandable, harmless and any answer other than a flat no and walking away will give him something he wants.

“Still this is... a lovely place and...” There is a pause as a slight gurgle can be heard. He demurely covers his face in shame.

“My apologies, my last meal was interrupted by a rescue attempt turned sour. I haven’t eaten in some time. No doubt without the blessing of Axiom I would be quite faint.” His apology is actually quite sincere. He dislikes people hearing his bodily functions.

“Oh! I don’t know about the... uh...” Sue’Li begins to dither and then mutters under her breath. He still catches it. “What do I do? He’s my responsibility but he has good points and... wait, we’re not in a rush. Food, explanations... maybe help him make his little house? I don’t know... Food first though.”

“Excellent idea Sue’Li, thank you for your kind concern.” He compliments her and the way her invisible head rocks back he clearly startled her. “Oh! I’m terribly sorry, one of my majour duties is being someone that can listen and be trusted with secrets. I have no real head for remembering things, but I am very good at listening and offering a comforting shoulder to lean on when the world is altogether asking too much of you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles up at her. “Consider your duties some of the best on this... ship? Colony? Station?”

“Uh... Colony. But yes. I suppose it is.” She says and he files away the fact that they’re on a colony, meaning a moon, planetoid or outright planet had some previously unknown structures on it and he was in one. Now was the gravity natural or unnatural? It feels like standard planetary gravity, but he doesn’t know how to tell artificial from natural gravity apart. But if it’s natural gravity... then there’s only a few places in La’ahbaron space he could be. Unnatural widens it by about fifty times. But he can handle that when and if it comes up.

Still, he has his clear in.

Sue’Li offers to order him some food and he offers to help a little in the kitchen so that any runner doesn’t have to waste their time for something as trivial as rumbling tummy.

She insists on the food being sent up anyways and he goes along with it with all the grace his training allows.

She inquires as to what kind of Discretion Palace he intends to make and he puts his mind to the task before outright planning the room.

“Two of them at the very least. No doubt The Mistress will want one all to herself as her station demands no?” He asks Sue’Li who agrees and he walks over to room divider nearest to his bed and gestures to the area and explains the reason for it’s positioning is so that if he has to retire for the evening after she demands some privacy he could still be nearby if she summoned him. The other at the divider nearest to his lavatory facilities, his explanation was in case he needed to help clean up some less refined guests under his care.

He then starts explaining how he’d prefer them to be on the top of shelves so that he may have proper supplies in them to best entertain his guests and halfway through his design ideas the food arrives.

It’s a platter of fruit slices, berries, thin slices of meat and wedges of cheese with some nuts on the side. He thanks them grandly and offers if they’d like a little bit off the plate themselves. He gets no answer from the Vish who brought things over and he turns a beaming smile to Sue’Li who actually holds her hands up as if almost frightened before refusing properly. That was reflexive. That was defensive.

His first tiny taste of a piece of fruit told him why. It was poisoned. All of it was heavily poisoned. “Oh. Oh dear, I hope the supplies I am brought to entertain my guests isn’t quite so seasoned.”

“It’s food for The Mistress. Proof that we’re below her. We can’t eat it. Only nutrient pastes and supplements.” Sue’Li says and he raises an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s a deep shame. I’ll have to see if I can’t find a way to get you some more robust, or at least more pleasing dishes when I am able. I am a courtesan, not a chef, but I’m not helpless when it comes to the creating of delicacies.” Danburi says before eating the fruit and there is... a mildly unpleasant sensation that fades quickly. So, another level of The Usurper’s control was convincing the Vish they were worthless and lesser? The poor stupid woman, he had been trained his whole life to tear apart that kind of mindset and turn them into powerful women loyal to La’ahbaron.

He polishes off the plate, openly lamenting that she cannot enjoy it with him, and swearing up and down that any woman in charge of caring for him will be cared by him in turn and he will get her a proper meal and a decent drink as quickly as he can.

She tries to play it down but he polishes off the last of the meal in short order and tucks the platter under his arm before placing a hand on her shoulder and smiling.

“You will be fine my dear, duty alone cannot sustain a woman and there must be more for you to reach your best self.” He assures her and he can make out some very, very slight impressions around her face and sees the slight amount of awe in her expression.

“Now then my dear.” He begins before tossing away the cleaned platter and thankfully it goes right over the divider in the room and lands on his bed. His smile is less performance as he’s actually a little proud of that. “How about we see if can get what I need to perform my duties here? Can you show me the way?”

“Oh! Of course! Right, yes, this way.” She says and he follows her out of his room. To his delight she actually takes his earlier suggestions to heart and doesn’t ‘clutter’ the portal system and leads him through this ornate section. A right from the entrance of his chambers, then a left six doors down. The area grows more and more opulent as they go and he’ll have to start poking at what’s in the other rooms. But not right now. Too much too fast will give the game away.

This is a dance of patience and secrecy. And the only way he’s unwrapping these mysteries is with the most careful steps he can take.

The room he is led into contains an enormous throne and there are tapestries hung from the walls showing star clusters and portions of the galaxy. He recognizes one of the three as La’ahbaron. It’s directly behind the throne where The Usurper is taking audience with several Vish and Ibu of different species. Two Ibu’Dwoov and an Ibu’Wol, all wearing Orojo Clubs, wearing half divest robes tied off with sashes around the waist and with their breasts bound by further sashes, signifying all three of them as primarily warriors in off duty armour. Tellingly, there are mockeries, clear mockeries of La’ahbaron emblems of honour tucked into their lower sashes and swaying. All different enough that he can only get a vague hint at their meaning, but plentiful enough to tell him that these three women are immensely important to The Usurper.

His eyes flitter around as he tries to memorize the two unfamiliar star chart tapestries and the faces of the Ibu women. Unfortunately he doesn’t recognize them and that’s going to make actually subverting or even dealing with them a bit harder, he has no history.

The Usurper herself is dressed and sitting in a manner that only his grandmother has done before in La’ahbaron and if not for her face, would be La’ahbaron herself. In fact... the facial differences are... less prominent than he would like. He had been too focused on her supposing madness, on the blood, his own fury and his situation to realize it.

She’s either family, or close to it. Which is an enormous issue.

The Usurper holds up her hand to silence the reports she’s getting and she gestures towards Danburi who bows.

“You’re quite... accommodating now.”

“It’s been driven in quite deeply that regardless of my desires or sentiments on the situation, that I am here now, and as I am a courtesan I will act the part milady. And for as long as I am bound in this place, I will perform my traditional duties. Will that be of any issue to any soul present?” He asks plainly and there is a smile on her face.

“None whatsoever.” She says simply.

“Very good milady, then in that regard, I am here to beg for supplies so that I may properly set up a more fitting and luxurious place of repose for entrusted to my care. I am capable of building the artifacts and tools from base matter, but will require the appropriate matter in question.”

“And what do you plan to build for me?”

“Four items, two Discretion Palaces and the shelves that will house them and their supplies.”

“You know how to make a Discretion Palace?” The Ibu’Wol asks and he nods. She looks rather odd under the blue lights, it renders the Ibu’Wol and Ibu’Dwoov black in skin. Thankfully the horns are plenty distinct.

“Of course lady...?” He asks without fully asking.

“Alicent of Clan Tharna.”

“Of course Lady Alicent, how’s the family?” He asks and then has to move quickly as he feels the rage boil off her and he trips Sue’Li before the Orojo Club swings. She hits the ground just in time to avoid the brutal swing that catches him in the shoulder and he feels his bones break under the immense force and he slams into the wall.

He falls to the ground and his head is already clearing as he feels the splinters of his bones slide back into place and his upper ribs snap back together.

By the time he’s fully risen he’s more or less unharmed again and he brushes himself off as the deeper than bone deep sense of wrongness penetrates his entire being and he walks up to the woman that just murdered him.

“While I am sorry for upsetting you madam, that was still rather rude.” He chides her before going to help Sue’Li back up.

“Notice that he didn’t call her by a noble title then?” One of the Ibu’Dwoov whispers to the other and there is a soft bit of muffled laughter.

“Alicent, you are not to damage my things.” The Usurper states.

“He’s not hurt.” Alicent nearly spits.

“The wall. Immortal he may be, the wall is not invulnerable.”

First Last Next

First

(Heat Warning! Yay!)

Undying Blues

Storytime is over. The Usurper, whom Danburi is slowly beginning to fully profile. Her manic energy, her self delusions and unusual traits are all concealing what and who she is. But it’s not enough to stop him, not fully.

She’s either a distant relation, or a former ally of his grandmother. Both are dangerous, but in different ways. Both will have a deep understanding of La’ahbaron mindsets and tactics that thoroughly explains why the war hasn’t already ended in La’ahbaron’s favour already.

She herself, and likely an elite guard, are immortal due to some... thing that’s now inside him too. She wants him as one of her elites. As a personal prize or as his actual skill as a courtesan capable of relieving even the most exuberant Ibu while preserving both their dignities.

He had heard that other species compared an Ibu courtesan to a professional grappler, therapist, entertainer, chef, mixologist and only occasionally a prostitute. After looking up the individual vocations in full he had been forced to agree, but had sent a message to please be less crass about it. There’s a certain level of dignity and decorum that must be maintained.

Something very hard to do outside of his proper working conditions. No triple reinforced furniture, no walls secretly padded behind lush curtains he could use as a visual block. No ammunition in the form of an entire wall dedicated to displaying innumerable intoxicants. No instruments, nothing.

Still, he does have the advantage of his looks and how underestimated a courtesan can be. The Usurper either does not care to or does not notice him following her out of the room despite the implied dismissal and his steps are whisper silent behind her as he moves in a manner that suggests demure deference as he takes careful note of the area. The evacuation shuttle is mildly decorated. The lights are in blue hues which by itself is an enormous hint. La’ahbaron ascribes itself to chromatic themes, ones that The Usurper is clearly following. The blue of an Ibu’Cjeo is clearly being glorified beyond all else with all the lights in a blue hue.

His eyes are practised in picking out what is and isn’t actually one colour or another. The Light is a clever trick to paint everything blue, but the ship itself is fairly plain, and from the play on the walls this ship is only partially in the process of being converted into a royal blue. Small effects are all blue in some form or another, but the fact it hasn’t been simply painted blue hints... well it hints at three things, all clashing, so only one is true.

The Usurper might just be lazy and relying on the blue lights. That’s the best answer. That’s the one he hopes for. Otherwise The Usurper has so many resources that this ship simply hasn’t gotten around to be properly ordained in Cjeo colours due to raw volume. Finally... the worst option is that she truly understands the proper process and aesthetics to the chromatic superiority. Worse still... they’re patient enough and so aware of La’ahbaron fashions and traditions that... she might have a proper chance at actually taking over.

The thought chills him worse than the thin robe and the room being mildly too cold for comfort. He already misses the carpets of his previous prison. At least he wasn’t getting a chill through his feet then.

Still progress is progress as she leads him onto the bridge unknowingly. There are several... figures in the blue light. Vague... impressions. But...

“Are not the Vish supposed to be invisible?” He asks after a moment and the fact that The Usurper doesn’t jump lets him know that much of her madness is an act. She’s too in control.

She smiles at him, he does not like that smile. The vague outlines of the Serpent Women are disturbing to see, ghostly in the blue light, but he knows they are there. He is bone deep certain.

“You are beginning to see. Good.”

“What am I seeing? How am I seeing this?” Danburi asks.

“You are seeing the truth of things, something only immortals are privy to.” She answers before smiling wider. “It was why that world of weaklings devoured itself. They saw the weakness in each other and were so disgusted they were all set to murder, the beasts saw it, but when the beasts saw the sun they realized their own weakness and fled, until sun down. The monks saw it and desperately searched for strength, only a bare handful were worthy, only a few were ever in control, the rest lost themselves to their animal nature time and again. Until forcibly calmed.”

“I see... literally.” He jokes softly as he examines the room. Six of the serpents, The Usurper and whatever the actual hell is slithering through him and The Usurper. But what has the thing inside him done that he can see the invisible? That he can make out the hidden foes? He still can’t read the strange language they’re using. It reminds him of some Cloaken dialects, but he hadn’t learned anything of that beyond some common sayings to sound mysterious and vaguely dangerous.

Some women liked it like that. But his tiny touch of vaguely hinting gibberish is nowhere near enough to read what’s on the controls of the bridge.

But it is very similar to a cloaken language. Which... makes sense in some ways, but it fails when being...

“Everything is in order Mistress.” One of the Vish states. “The ship is still hidden, and the compromised ship is reporting no lives lost.”

“What of the creature?”

“The newest member of the menagerie is... more clever than the others. It’s deliberately targeting vital systems and has completely crippled the ship. Coupled with the fact it’s actively patrolling the outside of the hull at a sprinting pace, we can only assume it means for it’s ship to be it’s territory and it’s territory alone.”

“Not the easiest to work with, but still very useful.” The Usurper says. “Now then, finish the proper sweeps. I need to get our guest here to his accommodations.”

She then advances to him and he moves to the side, but offers no resistance as he follows. He has no one to give the information to yet. But he is gathering it. He will need to be clever though. Val had tried to teleport him help and no doubt The Usurper will be on watch for such a thing happening again. Even if it had ended in such a strange failure.

“So... new accommodations. Will they be as grand as my previous ones? Or am I to be punished for the actions of others?” He asks as they exit the ship. It is a swooping angled thing that has much of it’s bulk in it’s wings. He had only seen it from the rear where they boarded. The actual engines of the structure were on the wings themselves.

Standard. Damnable standard. It could have been stolen from or copied by The Usurper at any time. Useless information.

What isn’t useless is that the rest of the ship is under standard lighting. The Usurper is keeping to La’ahbaron styles alright, right down to a forcefield airlock. Or perhaps she doesn’t care enough to have a bulkhead or use umbilicals for safety? She is immortal after all, comfortably so. How many safety features and regards for basic decency are going to be ignored here?

There are many ships coming and going, and from the looks of the forcefield, it’s not an expanded space. Meaning that this ship is at least an order of magnitude larger than anyone expected. How is such a gigantic ship hidden?

The landing bay is so large that rather than walk out of it a portal doorway rises up from the floor and activates. Then he’s led through.

“No tour?” He asks mildly, a slight lilt of disappointment in his voice.

“No time.” She says and they emerge in a blue chamber. His eyes scan her form. What skin he can see at any rate. There are no specific bulges or hints at an implant of any kind, which means she needs to be searched if he’s going to find any form of control mechanism.

“A moment.” He says and she turns and he reaches up to her. His fingers move skilfully, gently and with purpose, lightly adjusting her hair ever so to play around her horns. “Hmm... maybe...”

He adjusts her hair again and he feels them. Hidden behind her horns and very cleverly done. But he has seen this before. He leaves her hair with a couple of teasing braids that twirl around her face. “That’s better.”

“Is it now?” She asks amused.

“Regardless of my situation, or clientele, I am a courtesan still.” He notes.

“I see.” She says and there’s a smile more genuine than it is cunning. But there’s still something he doesn’t like in her eyes. Still, he puts on the pose and feigns simple pride in simple ministrations. He has secrets to uncover and every moment they can’t catch him rooting them out is a blessing.

He needs a way to communicate back to his Grandmother and her generals. This is too dangerous, too well organized and too much everything. They need to know the danger. But any communication panel or ship is going to be heavily monitored.

But he has an idea. Several actually. But he needs to know the layout of the ship... or station... or colony. This could be anything. Especially with that teleporter.

He’s led down the hall and the door opens. Blue lights, drapes along the walls and blue carpeted floors.

“She will see you the rest of your way to your room.” The Usurper says and then vanishes in a teleport.

There is a Vish in the room. She sways up to him and then freezes as his eyes track her vaguely there outline.

“You are the same as The Mistress. This way master.” The Vish states before bowing and turning.

“Same in what way?” He asks following her in. He needs to get a grip on this madhouse. And anyone talking is a good thing. Even if they’re morons or madwomen.

“Greater.” She says unhelpfully. Maybe he should start with an easier topic.

“Okay then, what do I call you then?”

“I am The Servant.”

“I recognize your title, but what is your name ma’am? I’m running on a deficit of names of late.”

“I am The Servant.” She replies.

“Okay, I just need to know if that’s what everyone calls you, or if that’s what I am supposed to call you.” He states.

“Yes.” She answers and he sighs.

“Sue’Li.” He says and she suddenly pauses and turns.

“Pardon?”

“If you don’t have a proper name, then you are Sue’Li.”

“That is... a classical Ibu language.”

“It’s an ancient Ibu’Dwoov dialect. It means Helpful Maiden.” He says and she seems completely off guard.

“Sueli...”

“No, Sue’Li.” He corrects her and she pauses and her head starts swaying from side to side.

“I am Sue’Li the Helpful Maiden.” She says after a few moments and then there is slight sound from her. She is deeply pleased and he smiles, keeping the triumph from his face and making it look like relief instead.

“I am so glad you let me name you my dear, it’s so exhausting being around people who won’t give me their proper names! I’m sure I’m preaching to the priestess though, aren’t I Sue’Li?” He asks with a dazzling smile and there is a slight laugh.

“Yes, we... we have no names until we distinguish ourselves.” She says and he adopts a concerned look.

“Really? Seems rather cruel, why would they do that to you?” He asks.

“Well, we’re all clones. Produced from tubes. Thankfully this makes us at least at a basic level. Not like natural births. But it’s the imperfections that most natural births are given their names for.”

“I’m not certain about that. Danburi, my own name Sue’Li, so sorry for not introducing myself properly until now. But Danburi is an amalgamation of the words Danur and Buril.” He says.

“Glorious Beauty?” She asks and he smiles. “Well. You were well named. Like you’ve apparently tried to name me.”

There is a tone of revelation in her voice. Then she straightens up. She’s hard to reed as he can only see her general position and body shape. He’ll need to refine this whatever the hell is going on and get more detail. Facial expressions are everything.

“Now then Sue’Li, I believe you were showing me to my chambers my dear?” He asks and he can almost hear her resolve starting to crumble. Good, he needs help if he’s going to make anything happen.

First Last

First

(Feels like my brain is in a microwave. Damn this humid heat.)

It’s Inevitable

She gasps as the Forest brings her onto the ship and she nods to the very concerned looking Volpir man who brought her here. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome ma’am.” He replies.

“... I’m not entirely certain as to what ranks you have with the whole cross forces things going on.” She says.

“I’m an Astral Forest Sorcerer, civilian contractor. I don’t really have a title beyond Sorcerer.”

“I see.”

“I was a dispatcher for the Lakran Station Seven Hundred and Three emergency services. But... well my old role is filled and... well life’s in an awkward place.”

“I can understand that. Excuse me.” She says and he nods. The man is clearly not comfortable here. But likely isn’t going to be comfortable anywhere. The door opens before she can reach it and she’s greeted by the beaming smile of a Private Stream.

“Hello Miss Somehow Still In The Good Graces Of Her Great Grandmother! This way please!” He says in a tone so chirpy she can hear the capital letters in her absurd, if accurate, title.

“Thank you, but Lady Val will do.”

“Okay Lady!”

“Lady Val.” She corrects and the response is a giggle. “Is this going to be common?”

“You’re going to be dealing with many people of many places and doing many different things. Best get used to it.” A Voice behind her says and she turns.

“... You really are a clone of the First Blade of The Undaunted.” She says as she quickly scans Harold.

“I thought you were with Captain Rangi?” Private Stream asks.

“I was breaking up an argument in The RAD.”

“Oh... you know you’re really hard to keep track of.”

“I’m supernaturally sneaky even when I’m not trying to be.” Harold dismisses. “It also means that he troops are fully understanding the fact that I can and will show up anywhere and at anytime to make sure things are ship shape. Keeps them from putting things off until later.”

“I see. Sir Jameson. I have been remanded to your command to assist in your upcoming fleet with incorporating with La’ahbaron forces and ensuring that the fleet moves with the grace and precision demanded of those in La’ahbaron territory.”

“You’ve been sent to ensure that a fleet, not yet fully designed let alone built, works within a foreign doctrine designed for a species that has a duel reputation of total control and a total lack of control simultaneously?”

“Yes.”

“So you ARE being punished. I understand.”

“I am being tested. If I succeed in this then it’s clear my impropriety came only from loyalty and duty overwhelming my decorum. If not, then it’s clear my personal wants and passions did. One is worthy of punishment. The other of praise.”

“And La’ahbaron culture does not have the conception of aligned goals? You can desperately, passionately want something because you like it and it can still be good for someone else. Protecting a loved one is something anyone can understand deeply, but if that person is a member of the royal family, as your dear cousin is, then it’s also a direct service to La’ahbaron. I would argue it’s loyalty AND passion.”

“I agree, but in La’ahbaron there is a clear line between duty and passion and any attempt to claim you move with both is met with scorn.” Lady Val says and Harold considers.

“This must be physiologically based on the indulgence and abstinence cycles of the Ibu.” Harold muses.

“Yes, it probably is.” Lady Val states.

“Good, now lets sort out your temporary quarters.”

“Temporary?”

“When we reach near the edge of Cruel Space we’re going to break away from The Inevitable, but it’s still a week or so until then. So you have a temporary quarters now so we minimize the time people are bunking six to seven a room at the low end. Privacy is going to be in short supply in short order.”

“What about the long range teleportation such as the one I just used?”

“Something subverted a piece of The Dark Forest. That has never happened before. We’re going to be very, very careful about this, so we will not be using any Sorcerous teleportation on the casual. It will be tightly controlled.”

“Is the Apuk Forest really so powerful and terrible?’

“It has reshaped Apuk Culture and sensibilities the same way that Ibu temperance has shaped theirs. It has rewritten and shaped tehir early history and predates their evolution, it influences them still. And now? It’s growing, it’s evolving and changing faster than ever.”

“Thanks to The Undaunted.”

“In part. At most we accelerated things. A lot that we were involved with were already happening when we emerged from Cruel Space. Morg’Arqun was already a Sorcerer and it was him that spearheaded the growth of new Forests. And that was what eventually led to The Astral Forest.” Harold replies.

“Says the man who outright created it and forever altered his species.” Lady Val replies.

“Been reading up I see.”

“Hard not to. Now then Ghost Eyes, where are my temporary quarters? I need to prepare a primer for your and your crew on how to best integrate with La’ahbaron forces.”

“Of course, I assume those expanded pockets of yours has your effects?”

“They do.”

“Very well then, this way please.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Cloaked Escaped Craft, La’ahbaron Space)•-•-•

“What is that abomination? How did it do that and why was it within me?” Danburi asks as he looks out the transparent steel window to see the giant, smokewreathed horror slamming and rampaging along the outside of the formerly hidden ship. More and more escape craft exit it by the moment as the vaguely simian creature with massively overdeveloped forelimbs and clearly trying to burn without oxygen slams into more and more of the ship, ripping it to pieces as it grows in size. The fact that it’s outside of the ship, currently being pelted by micro-meteors of a nearby planet’s ring and in direct starlight means it should be burning, freezing, torn to shreds and long, long since suffocated.

It’s only upset.

“It’s still in you.” The Usurper says.

“I know. But what is it?”

“Immortality.” She answers.

“Milady.” He says after a moment. “Immorality implies that one cannot die. And while you have indeed made me unnaturally resilient. Turning a burl of wood into a burning abomination that is currently of such size that it could pluck vehicles from the sky and crush them in it’s claws is a few steps beyond such a thing.”

“... People take it best. Animals? Other things? They don’t. There are other immortal beasts. That one is just yours.” She answers and while it’s not the information he wants. It’s still information.

“How many are there? And do they all burn?”

“No. Not all burn.” She answers and again, not the information he wanted, but still information.

“... So am I permitted to even know what this immortality causing miracle is called?”

“Not yet. You tried to escape.”

“I heard a loved one call out to me and tell me to pull. So I did. Then the Axiom was gone, the wooden thing was in my hand and the thing you’ve placed inside me ripped out to enter it.”

“Yes, the older ones are very aggressive in the giving of their gift.”

“What is it?”

“A gift from the galaxy to the great and the small alike. Encouraging the small to grow if they are too small, and ensuring the great endure beyond all others.”

“... what does it do to the small?” Danburi asks slowly. Then looks out the window at the tiny, barely perceivable thing slamming down on the massive ship. “Surely not that.”

“No. Not that.” She answers.

“Then what does it do?”

“What always happens to the small. They are made to feed the great.” She says and he can feel his blood start to run cold. He’d heard that mindset before, held secret by every bully, belligerent and beast that dared to gird themselves in the appearance of civilization. People who can’t control their indulgences almost always justified it by proclaiming that their victims deserved it, or that it was their proper place to do those things. Even the Ibu who live and die by their self control have such monsters... and he’s in the presence of one.

“Yes, but in what way? Something this powerful, this... magnificent would surely be well known. Unless you are blessed to be the first person to ever encounter such wonders?” He butters her up. She’s an egotist and a self justifying one. Flattery will get him everywhere.

“If only I could claim the glory. No... no I found wonders in an ancient temple. The weak and worthless dying over and over again, addicted to death itself even as those with the strength watched over and laughed. They were beyond the need for food, for drink, for rest or anything other than entertainment.”

He gives her every indication that she has his full and undivided attention, she does, and his utter admiration, she does not.

It works flawlessly and she launches into a tale describing everything but the actual important information.

Mostly.

Essentially she had found a world, no indication to it’s name, system or where it might be. Not even hinting if it was or was not near a laneway of any kind. This world had marks of civilization and even a decayed pylon that had long been stripped of it’s Protn. She wasn’t elaborating as to why she was there or what she was looking for so the world could be in any sector of space up to and including her own imagination at this point.

The natives lived in small, primitive enclaves where they used mostly wooden buildings, but still had some landing pads for shuttles and smaller starships. But the strangeness was that every building was either a temple or a palace. No middle ground. And the people were violent. Maddeningly so. Suicidally so. According to her, she had slain more than a thousand men and women on her first day on the world in pure self defence, then when night fell, enormous beasts that resembled the local fauna emerged and attacked at seeming random. Unlike the people though, killing the beasts hadn’t stopped any of them.

She tore off heads, rent creatures in two, crushed skulls and even hurled a sharp stick with enough force to pin an aquatic predator that was leaping from a river into a tree.

None of them had died despite their fatal wounds. A great simian monster had even continued to see her and seek to devour her despite being decapitated, the aquatic predator had thrashed and thrashed until it dashed the spear and tree both into splinters and came after her, choking and gasping for breath as it suffocated. And those were the more mundane results of killing her bestial foes.

Eventually she had to take refuge in her own ship. The steel hull and forcefields were enough to fend off the beasts until dawn broke and they left. Seemingly afraid of the light.

Then as she emerged to investigate what the hell was going on, the day started again. Every person she had killed was back. And she could even recognize them as their equipment was still damaged under her wrath.

Were she not Ibu the paralyzing confusion of the situation would have seen her dead as a forest of sharp sticks were launched at her with innumerable different methods. Luckily she still had enough sense to blink and was able to avoid losing her eyes to the assault.

So she fought and killed them all again, but this time had taken one prisoner and tied them to a wall. They wanted nothing she could bribe them with. No words could sway them and pain barely tickled them. So she left them in darkness. Left them for days. For weeks as she explored the world and tried to make sense of the unending myriad of monsters that refused to die and the people who made endless war with each other and only only stopped to face the beasts or face her.

Then on the third week, her captive broke. She got his name of Genenji and his claims to be undying and damned. How the Monks and Priests of days old had brought about a curse unending and the whole of the world was enraptured by it. How even the slightest stimulation brought about uncontrollable bloodlust and how only those who had been burned with full honours knew sleep. But none remained who could stand the heat long enough to be cleansed.

She had offered him death by plasma in exchange for all he knew and he accepted. He recorded everything he knew without rhyme or rhythm and then begged for release.

She granted it. Reducing the man to ash.

He did not rise again.

“But the rest, is for later.” She concludes.

“What? But we were getting to the good part!” He protests and she laughs. “Oh come on now! Please milady?”

“Later dear child. We need to situate you in your new quarters after all.” She says and the ship docks. He glances to the window and realizes he’s been had. It wasn’t a window. It was a screen and it had paused on the image of the ship in the distance. Tricking him into thinking they were barely moving.

“I’ll hold you to that then milady.” He says to regain some composure and keep up appearances.

First Last Next

First

The Dauntless

The room is quiet as the sorcerers speak to each other without sound and will twitch at seemingly random. “Well, when you are ready to explain just what happened to our seemingly flawless advantage and elegant solution? You asked for some time to compose yourselves and it has been an hour. The Inevitable is warming it’s engines. We are moving and I need to know what your fellows will soon be facing.”

The room moves slightly under Admiral Cistern’s admonishment. Then Koga steps forward and stands with his hands clasped behind his back. The fact that his grandfather is in the room but not trying anything is more telling than how Daiki is adjusting his glasses in an uncomfortable manner.

“There’s some kind of... spiritual poison? Evil Ghost? We successfully transferred a piece of the Forest into the hands of Danburi. We’ve even been able to bring up his ID and confirmed with what we saw. We had him. The Axiom was recovering. We were seconds away from a safe and clean extraction. Then... something came out of him. Burst out of his palm and burrowed into the shell of the seed we sent.”

“You assured me that piece of Dark Forest was durable to the point that it would take vehicle grade weapon’s fire to so much as rattle it.”

“It was. Sir, the problem wasn’t the Dark Forest Seed. We’ve recreated it and gone over what happened to it a dozen times already. It was flawless. We could have used that thing as artillery munitions. We could have launched it out of a coilgun, shattered a starfighter and had it go on to embed itself in a battleship before growing roots over it to crush the enemy ship like a tin can.”

“And this munitions grade tough item was somehow pierced and subverted in seconds?”

“Yes sir.”

“Damn. Do we know how?”

“Something sharp, flexible, and very smooth and jagged simultaneously pierced the shell of the seed without resistance, burrowed inside, and then joined with The Dark Forest forcibly.”

“It’s sorcerous?”

“Not... exactly? It started to take over and was cut off effectively immediately. So the main potency of a sorcerer is not something it has. It is a singular entity.”

“A singular entity that can potentially subvert a Sorcerous Collective.” Admiral Cistern presses.

“Yes.”

“Do we have any form of visual or identification on what was used?” He asks and Koga holds his hands out and after a moment, an image shimmers into the air. It resembles a sharp and thin silver ribbon with tiny black insectoid legs on the side. All told the tiny thing is merely a foot long and looks more like something you’d use as bait when fishing for a larger fish as retaliation for stealing your earlier bait.

The image moves and it looks like it’s skittering along before it’s legs snap to the side and form a serrated pattern before slithering and looking like it was burrowing into something.

“And what is this... legged ribbon worm thing?” Admiral Cistern asks.

“We don’t know. We sent it to Intelligence to scour every harddrive, library and data repository to try and figure it out. But with everything going on we have a limit of manpower to throw at it. All we know is that it effortlessly pierces and subverts The Dark Forest and it was INSIDE Danburi, outright erupting from his flesh, which was still reinforced by the way, and into the seed. Meaning it passed through two substances that are bulletproof at their weakest.”

“How is The Forest handling this?”

“We’re mobilizing. And not just as Undaunted sir.” Koga says and Admiral Cistern nods.

“Oh dear. So we have supernatural serial killers moving alongside us.” Admiral Cistern muses as he considers and then takes a sip of his coffee. Then nods. “We will not have the ability to actually stop them from assisting, not if we still want to use the galactic scale teleportation they afford us. So I’m going to have you men in charge of organizing the Sorcerers. Can you do that?”

“Organize in what manner sir?”

“Generally not run off and start attacking before we’re ready for retaliation and just explaining things to them on the tactical scale. They’re dangerous, they’re frightening and they’re motivated. These are useful, but I need you to keep them controlled so it’s useful to us and not our enemies.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Private Audience Hall, La’ahbaron Palace, Capital, La’ahbaron Space)•-•-•

Her gaze down at the prosthetic is sad, not angry. Just sad and hurt. The prosthetic of Val, her great granddaughter is kneeling before her and awaiting judgment. And there is only one thing she can actually do. The traditions she has established. The laws she has set. The examples she has given and the sheer time of trial within which they are all set in...

Some think that a ruler is free to act as they please, that they are in control. In truth, there are no chains more tightly binding than leadership. No burden heavier than to command.

“... The news you have brought is dire. Terrible in it’s raw facts and terrifying in it’s implication. On this day I lose two children. A grandchild and great grandchild.” La’ahbaron says sadly. “I am... aggrieved to hear that Danburi is infested with an unknown horror so pernicious that it attempted to steal the woodsy god of the Apuk. But as valuable as this information is. As terrible as it is. It does not wash away your disobedience. It does not wipe away the stain of your treachery.”

“I know. I offer myself to your judgment without hiding and without fear of being misjudged.” Val says and La’ahbaron sighs.

“If only it were so easy. You are a Tret. The ways of the Ibu are not yours. Your heart doesn’t scream and thrash to indulge in every little desire. You do not wage endless war with your own nature. You have not been forged and refined in the battle against your own passions. Perhaps it is inevitable that one so untested would fall to temptation? Perhaps it makes it worse as temptation is something more easily controlled by your nature. It doesn’t matter which it is. Our laws and traditions exist for a reason. The natural order of the galaxy is as it is, because it must be so. To fail to maintain it as it is will bring ruin upon us. You have seen what happens when order breaks down. When traditions are ignored, niceties forgotten and standards abandoned. I ensured that you did.”

“Yes. It is why I have come to accept any and all punishment as required.”

“It is not so simple! If one can simply pay off a fee then a crime merely has a price! Then it’s no longer a crime and simply an expensive luxury!” La’ahbaron states. “You know this as well as I, and yet, you still committed the crime. You still disobeyed and delivered state secrets to another head of state. Directly no less!”

Val says nothing.

“But context is needed. You are of the royal family. You performed these actions with the express intent of saving another member of the royal family. But you did so because you lack faith in the family. In...” La’ahbaron trails off. She takes a deep breath.

“Val. The only proper punishment for you is death.” La’ahbaron says and Val sucks in her teeth. “It is the proper way of things that those who flagrantly break laws while knowing the cost must pay a price higher still. The outcome you expected was to be banished and exiled. The proper punishment is therefore worse. Death.”

There is dead silence.

“However.”

Lady Val looks up.

“You did this knowingly, exclusively to save a member of the royal family despite guaranteeing a loss of your own status, privileges and life. You have discarded your rank and standing for a single flaring chance to aid another of the royal line. That is... Ibu. To feel something so mightily that all else is worthless before it. Loyalty worthy of the grandness of the Ibu. Your blood showing through.”

Lady Val says nothing as La’ahbaron internally debates with herself. Then nods.

“If I am to make proper judgment, I need to know if this is truly an act of incomparable loyalty, or mere passion stealing your good sense.” La’ahbaron muses before rising from her throne and walking over. “Rise Lady Val.”

The ornate prosthetic rises up to just under eye level. All in the palace were Ibu, it was law. Even the prosthetic of her Tret Great Granddaughter was in the form of an Ibu. She had never set foot in the palace as a Tret. But instead in the form of an Ibu’Cjeo.

“My Lady?” Lady Val asks.

“I need to see if you were taken by blind passion or all encompassing loyalty. I must know who you are. To this end, you shall be tested.” La’ahbaron says and Lady Val nods.

“I am ready my lady.”

“You think you are. You are an ambassador. You are a woman of words and little action. I am remanding you to The Undaunted with specific aims for you to join up with the force of Harold Jameson. He is going to be arriving later with an experimental fleet. I need to know it’s composition, I need it to be able to move in and alongside our forces and doctrines with minimal issue. You are to take that ever-shifting, unknown force and make it move with the grace, precision and discipline that La’ahbaron demands. Is this understood?”

“I do.”

“Do you also understand that this is your own test? That anything less than a flawless success will see great penalties upon you.”

“Yes my lady.”

“Then you are dismissed. Begone from my sight.” She orders and Lady Val nods then bows. Then her prosthetic is summoned back to it’s cradle.

Alone. With no one to see it and no soul to hear it, Lady La’ahbaron, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and wounded old woman who struggled to equate trust with anything but pain buries her face in her hands and screams.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (The Inevitable, Protected Landing Pad, Undaunted Territory, Centris)•-•-•

“You know... I honestly expected this to be reversed.” Giria notes to Harold as the family moves towards the exit of the ship. She’s very heavy with egg and is very, very soon to lay.

“Really? Well that’s what you get when you wed a warrior.” Harold remarks with a slight smile and her hand on his hip pulls him a little closer as she laughs slightly.

“Yeah... battlefield’s no place for babies. Which is why it’s so weird you’re going there.” Javra teases from her place sitting on and riding Giria’s coils. She’d been doing it more and more lately and blamed the babies every time.

“Oh really?” Harold asks.

“Well yeah, you’re like what? Less than two years old from conception till now? Less actually thanks to your everything being replaced. We god damn robbed then rocked the cradle to get you, and now you’re going off to war.”

“Goo goo gaa gaa, gotta get money to support the family.” Harold teases back.

“If they all grow up this fast I’m going to be a great, great grandma before I see forty.” Javra notes.

“When you get back I’ll need more time in The RAM. It’s got so many good toys in there fore ship scale weapons and systems.” Dumiah says, still every inch the forgemistress she was when he met her. Just focused more on larger and larger scale weapons.

“Not just weapons and systems, ships themselves.” Harold confirms.

“You better record it, I want to see it happen.” Dumiah says to him and he nods before there is a deep rumbling whine as Umah presses up against him. They’ve reached the exit. This is their goodbye.

There are no words as she slinks up against him and rests her forehead aginst his. Pressing her pregnent stomach against his and holding close until the little twitch of the babe beneath can be felt. “There, we’ve both said our goodbyes. You’ll be back. We’re not done until my kittens have a full blood brother, understand?”

“Understood.” Harold says even as Dumiah hugs him from behind.

“... Why is this one of the most unreal feeling things in recent memory? My world’s been flipped upside down so many time and I’ve seen so much... but...” Dumiah begins and sighs.

“Nothing more to say Javra?” Agatha asks as she crouches down and picks up the pregnant Metak.

“He’ll be back, we’re just taking a vacation from all the fun chaos to get the kiddies strong enough to survive being around daddy. Nothing more.” Javra says.

“Oh? No fear he’s going to die or be gone too long?”

“Big girl, we’ve been on the same trip. You met him when he was parrying swords with his teeth and he’s gotten crazier. I don’t know what can kill him. If he can be killed.” Javra says and Agatha leans over the group and uses a finger to tip up Harold’s face and kisses him in the mouth. She breaks it off after a bit and leans back.

“Well you’ve known him longer little lady. I’ll trust your judgment in this.” Agatha says.

“A path please, we have a baby.” Winifred notes and the group separates enough for Harold to be pulled into a huge hug by the massive Osadub woman. In her other arm Miracle is softly napping, the sheer size and softness of the powerful woman means that Miracle had started to prefer being carried by Winifred for sleeping over her own crib.

“We’ll have the den good and comfy for you to come home to.” She promises him then looks to the side as the now massive form and dark red form of Velocity presses in. She takes hold of Harold and brings her head down to kiss him full on. Needy, hungry, and so much more besides.

“I’m with Umah, you need to get back when you’re done so we can give our daughter a full blood brother. Then we’re going to keep giving her brothers until one comes out Vishanyan, is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Rain. See to it he survives. I’m trusting you with this.”

“The hell am I going to do?” Rain demands.

“... Take pictures?” Javra offers and there’s some chuckles.

First Last Next

First

It’s Inevitable

“Oh... I wasn’t certain how to contact you milady. Nor was I certain that you’d be willing to be interviewed.” Observer Wu notes.

“Think of me as less as an interviewee and more as moral support and assistance for my darling little sister!” Rikaxza says as she leans against and outright cuddles the exceedingly unamused Bazalash.

“This is entirely unnecessary.”

“You know he’s going to bring up, that.”

“I am a mature adult woman. Putting aside my nature as a Primal, I have not only been to therapy to deal with the mental after effects but have lived a long and full life that exceeds the entire history of some species since. I am fine.” Bazalash says and Rikaxza lets out a huff.

“Oh honey, a wound that defines you is never fully gone. You wouldn’t be The Trytite Lady if you weren’t the only survivor of...”

“Thank you Rikaxza.”

“The subject of the personal is something that can be entirely avoided if you wish.” Observer Wu states plainly.

“Oh! Well thank you for being so considerate to my little baby...” Rikaxza begins teasing and there is a single shake of Bazalash’s rattle. A construction grade I-beam appears out of midair and slams into her face with enough force it bends into a circle and is held there. The sheer impact alone of metal on flesh had sounded like a muffled bell ring and the raw force of it had ruffled Observer Wu’s clothing.

Rikaxza reaches up and easily tears it apart, revealing a smile beneath. Despite taking enough kinetic force to deform industrial grade metal around her, she’s not even upset. The metal was like soft clay between her fingers, unable to offer anywhere near enough resistance to even inconvenience her.

“Okay, so that was high level transmutation and enough kinetic force applied that I just witnessed the equivalent of an artillery attack.” Observer Wu notes.

“Yes, which is actually a good lesson little human. You see, me and Bazalash...”

“Bazalash and I.” Bazalash interrupts and Rikaxza scoffs.

“We’re too much. So powerful that you need to bring the kind of force that scars worlds in order to get us to so much as rise up and pay attention. Let alone put us in danger. Primals are powerful, the galaxy bends around us.”

“Which is why we must move with care and full awareness of the danger we present to others.” Bazalash states. “Every twist of our coils, errant flick of our rattles and twitch of our wrists can shatter lives and leave people in ruin. We have a responsibility to the galaxy.”

“We’re PART of the galaxy cousin. Yes we make bigger waves than most, but that’s just it. A bigger effect, like everyone else. Whether we do something, do nothing or screw off to avoid hurting people we’re still part of everything and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.” Rikaxza states.

“You’re here entirely to have this old argument with me again.”

“Not only that. I came here to make sure it wasn’t all just going to be ‘law Law LAW’.”

“He came to speak of galactic laws and regulations!”

“Even if that wasn’t a massive waste of everyone’s time, context cousin! Context!”

“Waste of time!?”

“If he hasn’t already gotten a downloaded copy of enough textbooks on law and order and a copy of every charter of rigths and freedoms or code of justice he can fit into his hard drives then I’ll have his next fucking child the fun way as he clearly has earned it!”

“I have! Yes I have!”

“Oh? Well I already knew you did that, it kinda hurts you didn’t even try to lie. Am I not to your taste little human?”

“Rikaxza, not now.”

“No I need to know this. It’s rare for a human’s answer to be anything other than Yes or I’m taken.”

“I’m taken.”

“Oh... a girl back home.”

“A wife. I am married. And my marital status is not what I am here to speak of or with.”

“And what are you so concerned of?” Bazalash asks.

“The sticking points of the laws of-” He begins and Rikaxza raises an eyebrow in surprise. “-force majeure. Or to be more accurate. How does the law handle YOU? Or perhaps even more accurately, how does the law handle Lady Rikaxza? It’s more or less an open secret she’s committing crimes. But you’re perhaps THE most prominent figure on law and the most you’ve done to her is pointedly tell her to stop talking.”

“I see. You did notice that when I told her to be quiet it was with enough force to instantly kill any other form of creature and outright shatter, if not severely damage any building, vehicle or armoured position I hope.”

“I did, and she is entirely unharmed and at most, mildly amused. I wouldn’t even say she’s chastised.”

“Can’t keep a good girl down.” The much amused Rikaxza notes. “But in all seriousness little guy. We’re not something that can be stopped if we don’t want to be.”

“I believe he was asking me.” Bazalash notes.

“And I was answering. What keeps us from breaking all the rules? Because it’s boring. Because waiting for things to get fixed takes a long time. So if you want to get all the little things that a functioning society gets you for basically nothing and are annoying, long time coming and tedious to make yourself. You better behave yourself. If you’re too scary, people run screaming.”

“I honestly didn’t expect that from you ma’am.” Observer Wu says.

“It’s not hard. Think of it like this. If I want all the money... well nothing is stopping me from just slithering up to every single bank and reserve on the planet and slithering off with all the Axiom Ride. But then, where am I going to spend it? Not to mention everyone’s going to want it back and no one will want to play with me. I’ve broken the rules at that point and people don’t like cheaters, even if they can’t do anything about it, they still won’t like it.”

“So it’s all a sense of fair play on your part?” Observer Wu asks.

“No. It’s knowing and understanding cause and effect.” Rikaxza says before tapping her forehead. “Yours and mine may be built in fundamentally different ways little human, but these are pattern recognizing machines. The very function of a brain is to puzzle out the patterns. It’s only a step from there to realize that if you keep breaking the game of society and the galaxy, you won’t get anything more for it than an increasingly short term thrill that will mean less, and less, and less.”

“What my conteporary is trying to explain, is that the long lives of a Primal and the fact that we have fully functional minds means that in large swaths we don’t break the law. And often... well... Rikaxza has gone to prison.”

“Hey, if they win the game they get the prize. Which is I stop playing until the penalty is fully paid. Hell, sometimes I straight up leave afterwards. I still have a few millennia of exile from a few systems.”

“You’ve outright ignored your exile here on Centris.”

“That’s because they’ve outright cheated, and the laws in question don’t go past the spires in question. Most don’t even go past the Spire Level in question.”

“It was still incredibly immature of you to literally make faces at their police forces from the next spire over.”

“But it was such a good mother daughter day!”

“Okay, but... what happens if and when a Primal starts crossing lines. How is that dealt with? How does the galaxy react to a singular, extreme threat?”

“... I told you we should have forbidden those silly girls.” Rikaxza states.

“I had. They redacted the information and destroyed all records regardless.” Bazalash retorts.

“You should hit them harder for that.”

“Unfortunately vandalism is punished with fines and the definition and punishment of disobeying us is called a sin and the Primal Faith deals with those directly.”

“And when it’s their own damned priestesses...”

“What happened?” Observer Wu asks.

“Three.” Bazalash states. “A total of Three Primals have died in the entire history of our people.”

“The Primal Faith is in fucking denial. They’ve struck the names of all Three from the records. There are only rumours that we can die. But we can. It just takes way, way more than most nations can even hope to use.”

“What happened?” Observer Wu asks.

“You must understand Observer Wu. We are... incredibly resilient. Immensely so. One of the most defining moments of my life is the sort of thing that instantly snuffs out another person and leaves behind only a mockery. All that I have to claim for that injury is a slight sense of otherness on my childhood memories. The sort of thing that naturally happens to most people as they age.”

“What happened is that we a... troublesome Primal. Ezsalizia was raised by her mortal family and The Primal Faith. They... I don’t know. It was a long time ago. You humans were just getting into animal domestication and agriculture at the time. And she was... she was almost akin to the gods that you humans would later worship. Or perhaps fear.”

“We’ll spare you the trivialities. There were two other Primals at the time. The youngest then. Fraternal twins born of the same egg. They are known today as The Lost Souls. Their names were Liazia and Aizail.”

There is a silence in the room and Bazalash takes a deep breath. Rikaxza is clearly uncomfortable.

“... Is Ezsalizia why so many Primals have gone to check on Skitterway, then left to see Greatpincer so quickly?”

“Yes, it’s a community thing. But we also... need to make sure it doesn’t happen again. None of us are more important than another, and none of us has a right to the others.”

“What did she do?” Observer Wu asks.

“She wanted the twins to be subservient to her. To be her playthings. The more they refused, the harsher she became...” Bazalash says.

“Then she got violent and killed Aizail as she tried to force her way on him. Liazia tried, and failed to protect her brother from the older and more powerful Primal.”

“Then Queen Hallissiana arrived with Altiarta The Mother of War, Thassalia The Lady of War, Hsarris The Bringer of War and Zlathris The Ender of War. She passed judgement. It wasn’t a fight. It was... just judgement.”

“Just Judgement? A Just Judgement?” Rikaxza asks and Bazalash lets out a slight huff. “So yes, that’s what keeps us in check little human. We’re not stupid, and we don’t let each other be stupid.”

“But you’re... well... effectively a goddess of criminals.”

“Yes, but the thing is, and the thing that all legal authorities know, is that I could easily make more money, more easily if I did it all legally. But that... I could sleep through that. It’s boring. I can make so much legal money so easily that I could outright buy worlds if I wanted. With the way I play, the police and state actually makes more off of confiscated goods. If they can find them.” Rikaxza remarks. “Still... things aren’t all sweet wines and Axiom Ride for Primals. Someone always thinks they can get the better of us and get what they want. It either ends in comedy or tragedy. I was introduced properly to The Undauned in comedy.”

“And I was introduced to the galaxy in a tragedy. Or rather, such a tragedy is my clearest early memory.” Bazalash notes.

“And what was that like?”

“Horrifying. I woke up in a tomb that but minutes ago was a city. Only Death and I lived there. I was... still a child. Millions dead, countless lives ruined, trillions in property damage, near incalculable ecological damage, and all of it because a stupid little thing was slapped onto the back of my head.” Bazalash says.

“What did they want?” Observer Wu asks.

“Control of me clearly. But beyond that? Who can say. They were dead like everyone else. The sheer damage to the city had shattered any computer files they kept a recording on. I couldn’t even tell what species they were, they had been reduced to a stain. So I can only limit the search to creatures that have red blood.”

“That is...” Observer Wu begins before his communicator goes off.

“You’ve lost track of time.” Rikaxza says with a grin.

“Observer Wu present with Lady Bazalash and Rikaxza.” Observer Wu answers.

“Report back to The Inevitable. We’re soon to launch.” Captain Rangi says.

“Understood. I’ll see you soon.” Observer Wu says before pocketing the Communicator.

“Sooner than I had hoped.” Bazalash notes. “Still, I hope you have found what you were searching for here Observer. Are there any other questions?”

“Just one.”

“Which is?” Rikaxza asks.

“Seeing as how whoever is attacking La’ahbaron is using Neural Clamps, an even cruder device than what was used on you, will you be doing something about it?”

“I will be sending supplies and funds to help with the war effort. While I am capable in combat, I am not a military trained soldier. If I go in there and start fighting then I will struggle to coordinate and properly move with the armies of the people present. Afterwards I will go there to help with the rebuilding and the healing. Assuring that the war and it’s aftermath doesn’t cause a breakdown of the social order.”

“And I’ve already got food, weapons and armour heading into the hands of civilians too close to the front of the war. When armies fight it’s the people not fighting who get hit the hardest.” Rikaxza adds.

First Last

First

The Dauntless

“You’re kidding.” Lady Val notes. “That easily?”

“Easily? No. It took a dedicated soldier multiple months to gain the level of Axiom control and force to do so. But what you have to do is remember everything about him and focus as hard as you can no matter how much Axiom you feel running through the area. What happens after will drain nearly all Axiom here and there and leave off our gift.”

“And you will be using Dark Forest cuttings to teleport him back?” She asks, even with only a tiny amount of Axiom there?”

“Yes, the woodwalking of The Forests is so efficient that even with only just enough Axiom to keep people from dying it has the power it needs to teleport people from world to world.” Admiral Cistern informs her and she looks pensive. “And it would not only rescue your friend and family member, but he likely has learned something in the time he’s been captive.”

“I’m worried that he’s already gone.”

“Oh no. Even if she’s a complete sadist, the girl who has him won’t just kill him. Women who let their desires do all the talking generally don’t think that clearly.” Herbert says.

“... Do I even want to know what you’ve gotten up to?” She asks him.

“Probably not, not to mention you’d have to sign SO MANY non-disclosure agreements if you did.” Herbert replies before grinning. “Still, that’s neither here nor there. Danburi is beautiful and was taken because he was beautiful, it’s a very specific kind of crazy that will hurt him for it. We have some time.”

“Okay, so...”

“Sir?” A new voice asks and there is a salute from an Undaunted Soldier.

“Mister Lore. Good to see you. We need your extension totems.”

“Sir? We have a package?”

“We do, just as we did with the Blue Brothers, we need to send a gift a great distance.” Admiral Cistern states.

“I’ll get the chamber ready, what’s the package?”

“A small piece of living Dark Forest Matter.” Admiral Cistern says and his eyebrows go up.

“Living matter... well in theory it won’t hurt. But only so long as we can get a proper link in the first place.” Admiral Cistern tells him and he nods.

“Right, I’ll prepare Ritual Chamber Theta, it’s always kept empty.” Lore replies before ducking out.

“Do you have any idea of the ramifications of this technology?”

“Yes, we helped recover a lost colony world and made a legitimate claim to it with this. And it’s not a unique technology, it’s taking an existing technique and technological advancement and pushing it well past it’s standard use to make a greater use of it.” Admiral Cistern explains.

“... Wait, Two Nine Seven?” Lady Val asks.

“Correct.” He replies.

“We sent an extra robust but limited use communicator and distress beacon.” Private Stream says.

“Just that?”

“It told us where to send the fleets.”

“Well why don’t we send one now?”

“Because we can reliably just bring him back and insert a team to attack the enemy, and locate the area, and set up a fortified location behind enemy lines, and...”

“How much do The Dark Forests of Serbow’s Sorcerers let you do?” Lady Val asks in a horrified tone.

“A lot.” Admiral Cistern says with a smile. “The Forests are wonderful allies and terrible enemies.”

“Clearly.” Lady Val says.

There is a bustle around things and during it Lady Val can feel a very subtle twist to the Axiom in her private communicator. She excuses herself from the group and asks for a room without active surveillance. She’s led to a side room that has creaking wooden floors and slight layer of smoke on the floor. She looks around and there are no cameras. There is nothing in the way of cameras or listening devices that she can find and then nods to herself.

She answers the call, and can only hear the slow, angry breathing on the other end. She says nothing in response and just sits in the silence. Nothing she says can actually improve her situation.

“Val. You are dismissed and your duties remanded. Lady Maraba will be my face on Centris.” La’ahbaron says.

“Very well.”

“You are to return to the capital. I will deal with you personally.”

“My Lady, this is...”

“I will not be spoken back to. You have breached my trust and spoken too much with too many. You have betrayed me and you know you betrayed me because you deactivated your earpiece.” La’ahbaron states coldly.

“May I speak?”

“No.”

“Then for the sake of La’ahbaron, for the prosperity of it’s empire, the protection of it’s royal family and the preservation of imperial dignity, I must end this conversation.” Val says calmly and closes the call. Then takes a deep breath. She steadies herself and leaves the room.

“Are you okay?” The Private Stream that was waiting for her is leading against the far wall.

“No. I’ve just lost my rank and standing.” Val says and considers. “It’s funny. I thought I’d go through a lot more for something like this to happen.”

“Do you need political shelter?”

“No. I cannot accept that. I will help with Danburi’s rescue as best I am able. Then I will go for my punishment.”

“...” Private Stream says nothing before reaching into a pouch.

“No. My treachery must be mine fully and without involving the Undaunted any further. La’ahbaron is... isolationist, and right now isolation will kill us.” Val says.

“Alright then. Do you need some time alone?” Private Stream asks.

“I think that I have very little time either way. The sooner we help Danburi, the better.”

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

“... He’s the reason I don’t hate myself. I was not born Ibu, but that doesn’t mean I was born wrong. He taught me that.”

“Sounds like a hell of a guy.”

“Yeah. He is.” Val confirms.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Cloaked Ship, Luxurious Apartments, Inner Chambers, La’ahbaron Space)•-•-•

There is pain. It burns and presses and he feels like his muscles are going to snap. But he can feel it. Whatever is in his body is acting... odd. He can feel the muscles swell, then thin, but some of the strength remains from the initial growth.

But the slight sound of laughter tells him that he’s been spotted anyways. Not to mention the closest things to proper gaps in the cameras are to far from walls or places he could apply proper pressure to try and build his strength.

It’s frustrating. He mostly dieted well and walked endlessly to keep himself trim. It hadn’t led to the skills where he could potentially empower himself.

There is the slightest twinge across his eye and he closes both eyes to consider and try and figure things out. What had made his eye twitch? He was in control of himself. Control of the self could lead into a control of the situation. By exerting control of a situation he could shift and shape it into a favourable outcome.

The pain and fear had broken his control and he needed it back. He is a courtesan of La’ahbaron. He must...

There is... something. Something ever so slightly and... what is that?

He focuses on the sensation and the muscles in his body twitches as a flash of irrational rage flits through him. He thinks again and... yes. Whatever that was has tried to put anger onto things. But Anger is an emotion. I must be controlled. The self must be controlled to control the world around him. It is his greatest power.

He considers and sits with his feet tucked beneath him flawlessly. Then breathes in deeply and holds it. Holds it as long as he can stand and then slowly lets it out. He can feel reality tingle as he breathes back in again.

“Danburi...”

He hears his own name whispered in a familiar voice. A tiny ripple in the Axiom causes him to snap his eyes open. He is perfectly still and listening.

“Danburi...” The voice whispers again and he recognizes it. Val. A distant relation, but one that had needed his care.

“Val.” He returns with her name against that flitter of Axiom he feels. He feels it and it reinforces.

“Danburi! This Dark Forest seed, it will teleport you here! Focus!” Val calls out to him and he raises an eyebrow.

He then holds his hands out to catch and focuses hard on the Axiom. It’s... distant. Ephemeral. Strange and...

He pushes harder and holds from his end. The Axiom swells, pushes and he pulls hard.

A chunk of knotted and whorled wood lands in his hands as the Axiom is STRIPPED from the room and he gasps and chokes. His body is too heavy and cumbersome without Axiom. His fingers curl around the thing and there is a... something in him...

His palm splits and something rips itself from him and burrows into the seed. Wood cracks, he hears the THING he’d been starting to hear groan and start to scream. He throws it away as the oversized seed cracks open and he stands up in a hurry as the THING that had been inside him contorts and twists the seed. Vines, roots and bark crash out of it as if something had always been waiting inside and was breaking out. It forms a vaguely arm like shape that slams into the ground even as the door opens.

“What have you done?!” The would be Usurper demands.

“I did nothing! The thing you put into me did this!” He answers as he backs away as the arm shape reinforces even as it grows a torso that soon has a screaming, screeching skull like head with massive horns.

Then the entire woody construct catches fire even as it grows legs and arms and stands upright as a massive distended beast wreathed in flame and howling in madness.

“What. Is. In. That. Thing?”

“It’s immortal.” She says before he’s grabbed by the shirt and she pulls him back and begins to run.

The horror screams in unending fury as The Usurper’s every footfall leaves an impact in the floor. She reveals a communicator inbuilt to a bracer on her right arm even as she carries him away with the left.

“Evacuate the ship! Have my personal vessel ready! Now!”

“What is going on!?” Danburi demands.

“Life creates life! Life unending does the same! Whatever happened, whatever was brought to you was alive! It’s immortal now! And worse! A weakness is it’s strength instead! It has grown! As I have grown, as you have grown! It has grown!”

“Isn’t it your friend!?”

“Yes! But right now it needs it’s space!” The Usurper answers before suddenly the winds blast backwards and alarms blare out. “It’s breached the outer hull!”

“What in the name of...” Danburi begins to ask but it’s already too late. The air is too thin and... and... it hurts. It hurts so much. But... nothing is... everything is... it... it...

The Usurper reaches an airlock and gets into the first half. Then cycles it. He gasps, chokes and sucks in huge lungfuls of air even as he spits out a torrent of blood from his burst and destroyed lungs. Then they are fine. He spits out a few more gobs and looks at her.

“You are immortal. And whatever that thing is. Wherever you got it from or whoever sent it to you? They’re going to regret it. Because I’m going to make sure it’s their problem.”

“What? No!”

“Yes.” She says flatly and he mentally races for some way to defuse the situation.

“Madam... My... my Lady, where did you even begin to find some way to render things immortal? To make things so mighty that a seed sent my way has grown into a...” He starts to flatter her for information when he hears the ship shake. “Oh... it’s still growing.”

“We need to get to my ship.” The Usurper says.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Exotic Deployment and Calibration (Ritual) Chamber Theta, Undaunted Territory, Centris)•-•-•

“What happened!?” Val asks in horror. The attending Sorcerer who had brought a solid, guaranteed indestructible seed of The Dark Forest was gasping and choking as he tried to make some sense.

“Something got him.” Dorian responds before spitting. “Something... something erupted out of our kidnapping victim, and did something to the Seed.”

“Did what? What was in him? Is he sick?”

“He looked healthy, then something came out of him and did the impossible. It took over a piece of the The Dark Forest and started doing something. I don’t know what. It was cut off from the rest before it could infect it.”

“Infect?!”

“Hunger, mad, endless hunger but not to eat and a sort of... sickening desire for survival.”

“You’re not making sense.” She says and he shakes his head.

“It doesn’t make sense. But there was something, deeply, truly wrong. And it came right out of your friend. Whatever just... corrupted a piece of The Dark Forest, it’s already inside him.”

“Is he...”

“I don’t know. I just got a short look at him and was waiting the seconds it would have taken to build the power to get him back, then the thing inside him struck and it was over. The last look I got at him was when he wisely threw the subverted seed away, and then the forest cut it off before it could taint it.”

“I still don’t understand how you taint a forest. It’s a forest.”

“The Dark Forest is countless beings working as one. Endless numbers contributing. Whatever pierced that seed, it takes. It subverts. It infests.”

“And it’s infested Danburi?”

“Yes.”

First Last

First

The Dauntless

“The antiviral program is being tested on a few drones we captured intact and placed in a Faraday cage. We don’t have a full antiviral yet, but our programmers have informed us that they’ve learned an enormous amount from this failure and they’re looking optimistic.” Admiral Cistern notes.

“You’re already developing countermeasures twenty minutes in?” Lady Val demands.

“We may have small numbers compared to most stellar nations, but we have the ability to substitute a great deal of enthusiasm to make up for...” Admiral Cistern raises an eyebrow as Lady Val openly swallows a smile. “Madam, really?”

“You’re the one who was encouraging me!” She protests.

“You’ve certainly relaxed.”

“I’ve already broken decorum to tell you how much you need to speed things up and why it matters to me. I’m not keeping my position and getting punished either way. So I may as well relax in the here and now.” Lady Val says.

“Anything else you can tell us?” Admiral Cistern asks.

“Not really, I’ve told you how I’ve personally been affected by the war. But that’s just breaking decorum. Anything else is outright treachery. And as much as I don’t like retiring in disgrace, I like the idea of being exiled or executed even less.” She says clearly.

“Hmm...” Admiral Cistern considers. Then opens his eyes after thinking. “How close are you to the kidnapped man?”

“He is a cousin by familial relation. But with how I’ve reverted into a tret... we’re not even the same species.”

“Oh?”

“He’s also technically a generation back, as La’ahbaron is my great grandmother, but merely his grandmother. So... a second cousin? Uncle? He’s younger than me but that means little with such things.” Lady Val admits.

“Anything else?”

“... he’s gorgeous. Some consider him the most handsome man in the empire and it’s not just cozying up to The Empress. He is... beautiful. Even compared to your own soldiers...”

“Excuse me?” Herbert asks as he takes off his hat and pushes away all his stealth. “Like this?”

“... You...” She pauses and stares before gently looking for her communicator and not looking away from him as she leans forward to bring up her communicator and project an image of a man with blue skin, tusks and a face so delicately gorgeous that...

“... How? You are no relation to him.” She says as she looks from one impossibly beautiful face to another.

“It’s actually a dominant trait in my family, and got us into so much danger that we developed a spiritual power to hide. I’ve gotten control of mine.” Herbert says.

“Yes... yes I can imagine how you would need it in public.” Lady Val says before Herbert put his hat back on.

“I’ve caused riots with good looks alone.” Herbert admits. “But still, if Danburi is Jameson level good looking then THAT is why he was taken. Even without the slightest political connection or money, Jameson family members have been at enormous risk throughout our history. Without our little Ode Gift we’d have likely gone extinct out of sheer abuse from outside parties.”

“How savage is the human homeworld?” Lady Val demands.

“No more than Centris. I’ve been grabbed at and stalked, and on Earth children are kept inside and homeschooled until after our protections start kicking in.” Herbert admits. “But that’s not the point. The point is, you say he’s pretty, I basically asked how pretty and the answer is, as pretty as me, and I have to go around with what’s basically a mask on to not be kidnapped. Because I’m pretty. Unfortunately.”

“And Danburi is the same way.”

“But you can picture him right? Really closely and focus on it?” Admiral Cistern asks.

“Why?”

“Well... you’re a blood relation to him. You know him. You like him and love him. We might be able to help him. Right now. If you’re willing to cooperate.”

“With what?”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Cloaked Ship, Luxurious Apartments, Inner Chambers, La’ahbaron Space)•-•-•

The bath had managed to restore some level of dignity. Unfortunately no amount of questions to his... attendant? Guard? Servant? Whichever she was. She was monosyllabic when not delivering a message or explaining something his captor thought he should know.

Asking her name had produced no answer. Asking if there was something she would like to be called was met with a no. Referring to her as No with a smile had received no response. Asking if he would have a selection of clothing to choose from was met with a no. Asking if he was now free to wander since he had the manacles on was met with a no. Asking if he would have a meal was answered with a yes. But he was told no when he asked if he could know what it was.

And she either didn’t know or wasn’t allowed to tell him what had been done to him. If the eye marking meant anything. Why her mistress wanted La’ahbaron, although he has suspicions, nor even what her name was.

She did however confirm he’d have a proper bed now that he was off the wall and that he would indeed be seeing the Mistress again.

So, how does one kill a person with indestructible skin without weapons or access to Axiom to empower oneself? And how to do it so quickly that they don’t have time to activate the shocking taser implanted int hte manacles.

Thankfully they were waterproof and hadn’t gotten in the way of cleaning himself.

But the thin robes he’s been provided with... are clearly stolen from his own closet. And summer robes are meant to be worn in sunlight. Not the cool blue light of this ghostly area. The coloured light isn’t doing anything to warm him, leaving him cold and mildly uncomfortable, but not in danger. Thankfully.

But just the robe for some reason. No underthings. None of his jewellery, none of his bands or ties so his hair hangs limp and damp. He feels half dressed at best and even though the plush carpet prevents his feet from being chilled upon the deck plates he would still prefer shoes, sandals or even just socks.

He walks the room. It’s... of appropriate size. Thirty paces along one wall. Sixty along the other and it was against the longer wall he had been chained. Opposite of where he was chained is the main entrance to the room. But... there are others. Unfortunately these other entrances are all locked and behind the curtains which cover the walls.

The room is mostly a lounging area, barring his chains, and there are dividers with curtains draped on them to give some measure of privacy between a bed on one side and a bathroom on the other.

That he has no doors or walls when sleeping in his bed or sitting to do his private business disturbs him deeply.

He can spot some cameras, and yes they are indeed pointed towards both the bathing and sleeping areas, he really does not like that, but can do nothing about it.

He wasn’t given a brush or comb, so he runs his fingers through his hair gently to slowly get out all the knots and trying to focus.

The memory of the sheer agony and the humiliation where he lost control of his own bowels as a result of the pain disturbed him. He hadn’t realized his muscles could contract in such a way. He had never known pain at such a level was even possible. And the sensation... the horrifying, taint that had been spread into him. Directly from the madwoman.

He shifts where he sits on the cushion and moves from slowly untangling his hair to braiding it.

He has no cut on his arm. The crack he felt on his horn might have been nothing. But the burn has already faded to a mere discoloration on his flesh. More akin to a birthmark than a proper scar.

The braiding is finished as he considers it. He can feel... something inside him. He’s not sure how best to qualify it. There are... places of stillness in his being. Places where he can’t feel. But there is nothing there he can find. He can sense it mostly in his own stomach, but his trim figure doesn’t show anything. No bumps, no movement outside the tiniest ripples of his own digestion and heartbeat. He is simply... numb in that place.

Poking at it though... had caused it to shift. Before the impact. Whatever was inside him, it was connected to him. Able to read his intent regardless of what he did. He could not actually extract it. Whatever it is.

He can sense... something with his limited Axiom abilities. But it only brings about revulsion. Whatever it is... it’s not normal. It’s not right and it’s in his body.

“What do I...” He begins to ask before he hears something in the distance and his head snaps up. “Hello?”

There is no response. Not at first. But then... more noise. Boots striking the ground, the sound of measured breathing and...

Metal sings out in a deep noise that reverberates, followed be the sound of an impact and then screams. Lasers, plasma. Kinetic rounds slamming into the area.

The sound of meat striking metal. Words half formed and finished and then snapping noises, a tearing sound that sends a chill through his very soul and then soft giggles.

Familiar giggles.

Giggles that grow louder until the door to his chamber opens and he beholds his captor again. She is drenched in blood, and he can vaguely make out the image of broken bodies in the room beyond. He fights to keep his stomach under control. He makes sure he doesn’t start breathing in a panicked rhythm. The complete lunatic slowly walks up to him and smiles down, dripping with the blood and viscera of her fellow Ibu. She then holds out a strange object. A length of metal, thin only in one dimension and with a brutal, reinforced and braided wire keeping it bent.

“Do you know what this is?” She asks him.

“I do not.” He answers, noting how the Ibu blood is slowly tracing a path down it’s length.

“This is something else I learned from our enemies. It’s nearly totally silent, and lets me stab Ibu from great range and with force enough to kill with just mildly reinforced blades. They don’t even have to be specially sharp or scintered. The raw force and unbreaking blade means they rip right through.”

“How lovely.” He says in as neutral tone as he can. “Is it for me?”

“Yes! Oh! But you need ammunition! Hold!” She says all but forcing the weapon into his hands and then turning to leave the room. Leaving him holding the blood soaked weapon. The door opens, reveals the horrors beyond. And closes. The sound of something being torn out of meat rings out and she returns, with a short spear in her hand.

“It launches spears?” He asks.

“It does!” She says holding out her hand and the weapon leaps out his grip. She grabs it, sets the spear to the wire and draws back on it. Metal groans and she suddenly shifts and she turns it to him. He tries to run, but all it does is cause the spear to pierce his heart from the side and send him to the ground.

He cannot even scream, his lungs are pierced and he cannot draw breath enough.

“See? My gift to you.” She says planting her foot in his side and pulling back HARD on the spear.

It tears out of him just as hard as it went in and with his lungs free to move he screams and she laughs as he tries to scramble away and then he freezes as his arm goes to his side.

The hole is gone. The wound is undone. He’s not hurt. “What?!”

“I told you, I gave you a gift. Take these too.” She says before dropping the weapon and it’s piece of ammunition. “We’ll talk later!”

She turns her back on him and he puts the spear against the string as she did and tries to pull back on the wire.

The metal barely moves and he can feel the wire trying to cut into his skin. Only his Ibu nature keeps him safe as his arms struggle with the force needed.

She reaches the door and turns back with a smile. “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be able to use it. When I can trust you with Axiom.”

She leaves the room and he frowns.

“Learn from enemies? You’re not the only one who can do that.” He says as he tries to pull back on the string and makes notes which muscles strain and burn. Then he sets it aside, and starts going around the room for a place with a gap in the cameras.

Then he starts stretching his limbs and starts slowly putting weight and pressure on the muscles in question. She thinks he needs Axiom for it? He’s an Ibu, strong. He won’t need Axiom for more than staying alive. And she’s made sure he can’t die. That he can’t even stay injured.

Time to build muscle.

First Last Next

First

(This chapter really didn’t want to happen at first. Then we met the main villain and... damn.)

Cats, Cops and C4

“And what did we learn?” Chenk asks the businesswoman as the burnt shell of the drone collapses to the ground.

“Uhh.... uh!” The woman stammers as she staggers further back into the building.

“What we learned was that when drones and cars are clearly hacked by a hostile party, we stay in cover.” Chenk chides her as he modifies the power output on the laser pistol he had used to kill the central processor of the drone. “You know, I’m not entirely certain how much I like lasers. They have incredible accuracy, nothing in the way of kickback to throw off your aim and no need for ammo. But the range is hot garbage and random patches of gas distribution can destroy it’s power.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” The businesswoman demands.

“Just thinking on ranges and practicality.” Chenk states as he flips the safety back onto the laser pistol and slipping it back into a holster and draws out a semi-automatic pistol. “Like how this weapon has much, much more range, but kicks back hard enough to throw off accuracy, and with the limited ammunition I can’t just walk an attack after an opponent that dodges.”

“Why are you talking about this?” The businesswoman asks.

“Because we’re in a combat situation so we should speak about combat. But it’s more my tone of voice.”

“What?”

“You need to be calm.” Chenk replies. “A panic helps no one.”

“But...”

“Calm.” He says.

“My car is out there!”

“Are you not insured against criminals stealing it?”

“Well yes but...”

“Then it’s fine. It’s been stolen by a criminal and you can claim it.”

“With how much of the planet has been hit at once the insurance companies will go bankrupt after just a tenth of the claims.”

“My heart weeps.” Chenk notes.

“Which means I won’t be able to cash it in!” She snarls at him.

“I think you’d have a lot harder time cashing in if you’re crushed under your own car.” Chenk replies and she goes quiet.

“But it’s my car.”

“I’d think your life is a fair bit more valuable to you.” Chenk states as he gets a response from his text to Intelligence. “Hmm... we need to go further inside. They’re developing an anti-virus to sweep through things. So if we just don’t give the compromised vehicles a target we should be able to recover them mostly undamaged.”

“Mostly!?”

He just turns to her and just gives her a deeply disappointed look.

“Wow, girl you’ve never had things go wrong for you before, have you? Reminds me of that dumb prince a few years back, he couldn’t even pick up something that fell on the floor.” Namalla notes.

“Who was that?” Chenk asks.

“You’re a cop, I will not say more.”

“God damn I will need to sick a few boys on intelligence at you to shake out the stories.”

“Will anyone be left behind after you deploy to war?”

“We don’t send every man, woman and child to the front the moment someone threatens us.” Chenk retorts. “An army is a big dangerous beast, it takes a bit for it to get moving, but it causes all sorts of damage when it arrives.”

“I’m more concerned about the damages happening here! Centris is the infrastructure of the galaxy, the beating heart of the Galactic Federation!” She protests.

“It... it IS important. But the hands off policy of the Federation ensures that even if Centris would be erased the galaxy won’t fall with it.”

“That’s not comforting human!”

“Of course not, I’m taking away the higher ideal excuses. But here’s the thing. There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. It’s okay. You’re allowed to value your own life. Hell, I’d be far more concerned if you didn’t.” Chenk says and she stares at him.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Koa’s Family Apartment, Level 137, Gillen Spire, Centris)•-•-•

The low and furious growling of Anaris faces the partially crumpled and thoroughly trashed front of the vehicle. The babes they were visiting were with their mothers in the main bathroom which was in the centre of the apartment and only opened facing the bedrooms. No windows. Shireen was further back and was the barrier between most of the Rabbis that were in the apartment and the suddenly hostile vehicles.

A bent panel under the censors is finally peeled away and Reggie reaches up into the engine and snips a few wires and pulls out a tiny totem. The Vehicle powers down and the Axiom it had been building up starts dissipating.

“Pull.” Reggie says and Amadi pulls him out from under. “I’ve killed it’s Engines. It’s safe.”

“Alright, hold on.” Koa says as he slowly pulls the car in ever so to make sure it doesn’t tumble out and leave a hole.

“In?” Reggie asks.

“Big guy’s using it as a visual block. Everywhere all sorts of cars and drones are going nuts.” Amadi replies and Reggie considers.

“That means the programming. Meaning it’s probably out of my wheelhouse. I’m a mechanic with an engineering degree.” Reggie notes.

“Maybe, was their anything weird about the car?” Koa asks.

“Nothing, everything was where it should be in a standard, if well made and well cared for, engine.” Reggie says.

The car makes a noise as it tries, and utterly fails to lung at them.

“So whatever hostile program it has can see us?” Koa asks looking the vehicle right in the front sensor.

“I’ve basically paralyzed it, but yes.”

“Do you think it’s intelligent enough to feel pain?” Koa asks.

“Dial back the daddy instincts big man. It’s a car with a virus, you can’t make an example out of it.” Amadi says.

“I most certainly can.” Koa replies and past where Shireen is keeping people safe there is a slight purring sound from Marissa. “Is now the time?”

“I can’t help it! You’re a sexy man!” She protests and he chuckles.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Rooftops, Level 8, Ven Spire, Centris)•-•-•

The last burning wreck hits the ground and Moriarty sniffs as he overlooks things. “Well, only one thing to do at this juncture.”

He brings out his communicator and holds down a number.

“The hell is this?!” The voice on the other side demands.

“Now now, that’s not very neighbourly. Mycellia” Moriarty chides her.

“You.”

“Me, there’s profit to be made. I’m going to be sending some girls to drag you the salvage from this payday. You can owe me the favour.”

“I don’t want to owe you a favour.”

“Fine, no money for you then.”

“No, that’s not what I’m getting at. What do you want?”

“There’s going to be enough parts to easily make ten vehicles from this. I want two of them. I want the transceivers to have a few additions.”

“Oh yeah so you can send a ‘random’ inspector to close me down or use the record of it to blackmail me.”

“The fact you think I need to find or manufacture dirt on you is adorable. Get it done.” Moriarty orders her.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Cloaked Ship, Luxurious Apartments, Inner Chambers, La’ahbaron Space)•-•-•

“No. I will not.” He answers again and electricity surges through the chains holding him to the wall. He grunts and writhes before slumping against the deep blue silks and velvet.

“She’s unworthy.”

“You’re worse.” He replies and the energy returns.

“You will work for me.” She states.

“I will NOT!” He spits back and he can feel the energy arcing between his teeth and tusks as he screams again. He gathers some of his phlegm and tries to spit at her. But her hand clamps around his mouth.

“You’re a brave boy. Loyal too. But I know what you’re doing. Something I would have done once. Death before dishonour. But I have a question for you.” She says in a sibilant whisper before letting him go.

“What?” He demands.

“What happens if I don’t let you die?” She asks gently as she draws out a knife.

“What?” He asks her.

“What happens, if you can’t die?” She asks as she taps the side of the wavy blade. It gives off a strange hum and he knows it’s a rift blade.

“What are you going to do with that?” He demands.

“I am going to give a gift that none in your family would ever think to offer. I’m making you mine. I’m making love to you.” She says as she holds the knife right up to his nose then slowly moves it to the side and he can feel the energies of the weapon just over his skin and up his arm. “Here we are, can’t you feel the excitement? Your old life ends today.”

“You’re insane!” He shouts before screaming as he feels the brutal weapon slash deep into his arm. Then the iron grip of his captor clenches around the arm and through the pain he feels... something. Something wrong. Something terrible. There is a deep sense of revulsion deep within him that sweeps over his entire being as he thrashes but cannot get away.

It travels down his arm. Presses through his shoulder and he can feel it enter his heart. Then it’s over. It’s done and he slumps down.

“What did you do to me?!” He demands and she leans over to kiss him on the head. He throws back his head hard enough for his horns to smash into her face. He can feel his horn almost crack, meaning the damage must be immense.

She screams and staggers away sobbing, then the sobs turn to a deep breathy laugh. She uncovers her face and crouches down to his level. He watches in horror. She’s stopped him from using Axiom, but can still sense it. And there’s barely any Axiom in her being as the bruise on her face fully forms in seconds and fades away entirely. She then reaches over his head and grabs the horn he felt nearly crack.

It’s solid and whole.

“What have you done?”

“I’m making you mine. They don’t deserve you anyways.” She says before walking through the room. “But it’s not done yet! You still need more work! You’re almost there!”

One of the half invisible things pushes brazier into the room. There is a poker inside it and even from this distance he can sense the power in it.

“A child learns from their family. A smart woman learns from their friends.” The crazy witch declares. Then she grabs the poker. It’s blazing hot and has the symbol of an eye upon it. “But the brilliant? They learn from their enemies even before they are enemies.”

She then crosses the room in three swift strides and slams the brand into his chest.

He screams as he never screamed before. He tries to thrash but she presses the brutal brand against him so hard he’s pinned to the wall as flecks of spit and blood join the last bit of wind from his emptying lungs. It trails off into a gurgle as he can feel his everything suffer and there is a gnawing, biting, shredding, breaking THING burning through his skull and scrambling his thoughts.

Then it’s over and he’s allowed to fall to the ground. Vaguely noting that he’s now sitting in his own filth as he weeps. He tries desperately to get some form of dignity back. Some kind of control of the situation as he looks up at the monster in terror. The scrambling, clawing sensation in his mind is unceasing.

“There we are. You’re like me now.” She says pulling down on her ornate robe and letting the back fall ever so to show she has the same symbol in the middle of her back. She pulls them back up and kneels down to his level. “You’re MINE now. My darling baby boy. Just in need of some discipline so that mother can find him a proper family... if mother isn’t the proper family herself of course.”

She then giggles and starts walking out of the room. The insane laughter bouncing off the walls despite the opulent curtains and the doors slam shut with an echoing bang.

“Someone, anyone... help me!” He begs and the door opens. He looks up, hope twanging at him and... it’s another of the serpent women. She walks in, carrying a tray with modified manacles.

“The Lady commands you wear these. Do so and you will be permitted to move.” The Serpent says and he sighs.

“Very well.” He agrees and she cuffs him with the new manacles before unshackling him from the wall. HE stands up fully for the first time since he came to.

“The Lady commands I draw you a bath.” The Serpent says and she walks away to the left side of the room.

“Do you know who I am?” He demands.

“Lord Danburi La’ahbaron. Forty second child of the fifty ninth child of Overlady La’ahbaron. There is debate if you are one of the most beautiful men in La’ahbaron space.”

“Yes, I am. Do you have any idea what will happen if I am discovered here?”

“Yes. For it will be maybe half as terrible as what will happen if I defy The Lady.”

“Who is she!?”

“She is your lady now.”

“She is not!” He spits and the manacles around his wrists erupt in electrical energy and he shouts in pain and clenches before it passes.

“Yes. She is. Now follow me. You are filthy.”

First Last Next

First

The Dauntless

“Report.” Admiral Cistern orders.

“Sir, it’s all over the world. The tops of spires and the plates are being menaced by hijacked drones and vehicles. It’s on Zalwore and every single Archology is under threat, and it’s on Skathac. Exclusively in the recently named Gotham City.” Private Stream explains as they move and he blinks as he processes the information.

“They’re splitting our forces. Showing that they can attack us at home over an incredible distance and without being detected until it’s too late. We will have to leave forces behind in every single location we’re active in so that our supply lines and home bases aren’t levelled while we’re at the front.” Admiral Cistern realizes. “And they’re making a point of doing it to The Undaunted. Skathac is a very visible, but strategically of little value. Other, less visible worlds provide more in the way of recruits, but not as much in the way of publicity. Or perhaps are simply better protected then the currently extremely popular tourist trap.”

“Right, where one of your soldiers turned a florist into a goddess. Then resurrected the dead on live broadcast. Of courses they think that Skathac is a special world to you. Next to Centris it’s one of the worlds most associated with The Undaunted in the galaxy.”

“Which is ironic as we only have a vague interest in it due to the natives really liking some of our media.” Admiral Cistern notes as the portal doorway into The Dauntless is finished being set up. “Now then, if you’ll all kindly join me, it’s time we get ourselves into a better position to witness the conflict.”

“... Were there any reported attacks on Apuk Space?” Lady Val suddenly asks.

“I have not been informed of any.” Zwen’Malor answers.

“Why the Undaunted then? Their preferred tool are the Vish which the Apuk have their own variant of that spoke out against this. Surely that would be far more offensive.”

“We are not Vish.” Cautiously Regarded Foes notes.

“You’re still here!?” Lady Val demands.

“I am under the command of Lady Zwen’Malor. Assume I am by her side if you don’t know where I am.” Regard answers.

“Yes, that... foolish of me. Very well Vishanyan. Whoever leads the butchered women that are the Vish is clearly as cunning as she is insane.” Lady Val explains as they walk through the portal and into the Dauntless. She looks around and smirks a little.

“How is it that you have no information on the identity of the cretin?” Regard asks.

“There is something very odd happening whenever our forces get close to her. They begin reporting that they have encountered someone and are opening fire. Something scrambles visuals, destroys protn and even snuck on recording devices in low Axiom states that would allow nearly flawless surreptitious spywork can only catch a vague outline of a woman destroying her attackers. And by the time they get to that point the device is so damaged and the files so corrupted that we can only confirm that it’s a woman due to prominent breasts. We can’t even fully confirm if they’re a biped!”

“So the opponent in control of a large production line to produce Vish Soldiers is also exceedingly deadly in direct combat. They’re also very capable of sonic attacks as it takes a very specific frequency at a fairly high level of power to shatter protn.” Private Stream summarizes. “Oh! And they cause a great deal of damage in the area around them or are very good at rooting out and damaging, but not destroying, survey equipment.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not a normal person.” Private Stream remarks. “People like that leave trails.”

“We’ve tried. The problem is that we’ve accounted for every Sonir, Phosa or Sonic Specializing Adept known in teh galaxy in and around La’ahbaron at the time of the attack. The attacks have even slimmed the number of them in a non-substantial matter.”

“Sir Philip isn’t a Sonic Adept, Sonir or Phosa but he made use of that frequency anyways... granted someone like that going to ground aroung the time of the attacks starting would also set up some pretty big signals. How about in the time before the attacks started? Like ten or twenty years.” Private Stream asks.

“Allow me to amend my statement then.” Lady Val begins. “Every Phosa, Sonir and Sonic Specializing Adept and Totem Crafter capable of shattering Protn for the last twenty five years in and around La’ahbaron is either accounted for or confirmed dead.”

“Oh... wow! We’ve got a challenge! I love challenges! It feels so much better to beat someone when they actually make you work for it! Not that it’s not funny to just crush an idiot.” Private Stream gushes. “Oh this is perfect! Does the crazy witch have a dread citadel or something or a concealed location that moves which you need to find over and over again and therefore never have a truly proper team to go in and take them out?”

“Both. There are several asteroids that have gone missing and reappeared bristling with weapons and disturbing architecture, and occasionally we breach the ever shifting cloaking fields of massive ships that send out our enemies. Follow their forces back to their origin point and you’ll always find one or the other. But sending in teams either finds a poorly defended facility that can be destroyed or taken apart, or they suddenly go silent as they come across a lavishly decorated part of the ship and are immediately under attack.”

“Decorated how?”

“Dark Blue.” Lady Val says. “It starts with the paint, proceeds into curtains, then portraits of blue stars and the lights shift colour. Someone is obsessed with Blue. And gold. Blue drapes held in place with golden chains that are parted to reveal pictures of blue stars.

“...” Admiral Cistern turns to look at her and she nods.

“The problem is that over half the population has a blue skin tone. Ibu’Cjeo is the most common people in La’ahbaron.”

“I presume nothing came of it?”

“... Kidnappings.” Lady Val says as she reaches up and pulls off an earring. “I’m going to get into a great deal of trouble Admiral Cistern, but the fact of the matter is that we have been attacked and outright harvested. I’ve lost friends. Only the people must publicly invested in helping us and their own personal allies are here. SO it’s... not as bad. But... some citizens have been taken. A distant cousin of mine... I got the report yesterday. Danburi was what I thought of when I heard the words perfect man. The chances were low but... they took him. They didn’t kill him. They took him, and no one who’s been taken has ever been recovered.”

“Lady Val...” Admiral Cistern begins.

“Even if we were never meant to be, he was still a very good friend. He never thought less of me for being a throwback to a Tret. Maybe it was just his diplomatic training, maybe it was just his courtier training. But he taught me to love him. And they took him.”

“Can you think of what use they’d have for him?” Private Stream asks. “Beyond being a perfect man I mean?”

“No. Not beyond the fact the was perfect. He wasn’t privy to anything secret. Not placed in any rank that holding him would give anyone access to anything. Even his bloodline is too distant from the Throne of La’ahbaron to even of trying to usurp without wiping out a full quarter of the nobility. He isn’t a warrior or scholar, he’s not even the greatest artist. He’s acceptable, his watercolours hang in a few separate palaces. But that’s because they were gifts and not because they were of truly exceptional quality.”

“So he was taken, and the only real value was that he was kind, handsome and very, very good to people?” Private Stream asks.

“I would really rather not put it that way.” Lady Val says. “But yes. The fact that he could make even rags look elegant, a pauper’s repast feel like a royal feast and even the least worthwhile member of a family feel like the head of it was what he had to offer.”

“Hey, a perfect host is invaluable. In diplomacy. The masters of the Vish haven’t tried any kind of diplomacy though.”

“Still a man, still handsome and delicious to every single sense a woman has.” Lady Val protests.

“Yes... but if they’re not using him for his clear skill in diplomacy, then why grab him at all? They use Vish on the frontline, and while a breeding program is... something to think about, there hasn’t been any evidence of that has there.”

“There wouldn’t be time to.” Lady Val says. “He’s been taken only a week.”

“That’s time to bio-print off a sample. Especially if you don’t care about quality.” Private stream replies.

“So what have the kidnapped citizens been used for? And why?” Admiral Cistern asks. They arrive at his office to find several Private Streams leaving in a short river of salutes and there are numerous comfy chairs inside and refreshments ready. “Now then, I’d like to talk about some particulars as to how we’re going to be doing things. And as we will be using a fairly Apuk exclusive resource to aid La’ahbaron it makes sense for you to be here, and of course my fiances and soon to be wives are welcome.”

He holds up a finger before Private Stream can do more than open his mouth. “Wait till I’ve had some time to settle before sassing.”

“Yes sir!” Is response that is so bright and cheery it could only be there to be annoying. Admiral Cistern raises an eyebrow. “What?”

He shakes his head somewhat fondly and sits down before two more Private Streams come in and start bustling around to make sure everyone is comfortable with a drink and a snack. There is a bit of a show as they can’t find Cautiously Regarded Foes and call in another. One that can see her.

“Jameson, you’re supposed to be on doctor mandated rest.”

“Sir, we’re at war. A lot of that has been relaxed.” Herbert replies pushing up his cap with a grin as his pure white eyes clearly scan the room. “Now is anything needed sir, or shall I simply be attending to our Vishanyan guest?”

“What are you seeing when you look at me?”

“Your soul.” Herbert replies in a tone that is totally innocent.

“... I beg your pardon?”

“I can see souls. Your stealth doesn’t hide it.” Herbert replies.

“Do I have to order you out of the room to stop scaring her?” Admiral Cistern demands.

“I just confirmed that she has an immortal soul whether or not she was born from a cloning tank or an egg like my niece, how is that scary?”

“... Your niece... is Jameson not a common name for you humans?” She asks.

“It’s not rare, but there was only one Jameson on The Dauntless when we left Earth. Then he was cloned many times.” Admiral Cistern answers. “Herbert here is the original. Harold, father of the first natural born Vishanyan, is his most well developed clone.”

“Yeah, my brother’s gotten up to quite a bit. Can’t wait to see if the rest of my siblings get up to Harold’s level of trouble.”

“If that happens I will weep for the galaxy.” Admiral Cistern notes wryly and Herbert lets out a childish giggle as he finishes making sure that Cautiously Regarded Foes has everything he grabs a drink and snack of his own. “But you’re also here for another reason, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Our backtracking of the sheer number of electronic attacks on The Inevitable has allowed us to backdoor into a lot of systems in and around Centris. When the drones and vehicles were hacked we used those backdoors to scan as many systems as we could. The Virus is all over the place.” Herbert explains before eating a wedge of an orange.

“How many?” Admiral Cistern asks.

“About one in a thousand vehicles or drones. But the fact it’s in other systems and waiting more like a plague to spread out again if things get tainted has me concerned. This office is clean of it. But it’s all over the place, like background radiation. We’re working on an anti-virus for it but... it’s going to take a bit.” Herbert explains.

“Oh. Hmm... and is it the same elsewhere?”

“The code is currently the same on Zalwore and Skathac. But we’re not sure how good the electronic warfare of the enemy is. If we send out a cure they can attack again. And we’re going to fully be on the defensive. I doubt anyone here will think that such a thing is a good thing.” Herbert says.

“They have... decent electronic warfare. We tried several methods to combat the virus. But it only buys us some time until they adapt their code and try again. We’ve gotten three months at most out of it once.” Lady Val explains.

“Hmm... not good. Not the worst news, but not good news.” Admiral Cistern says. “Have you tried tracing them to their source?”

“Yes, we have several times.”

“Jameson, relay to the rest of Intelligence that I want our anti-viral to also get the bug to send a report to us detailing where it came from and when it arrived. The more information we get out of these things the better.” Admiral Cistern orders and receives a salute in return.

First Last Next

First

The Dauntless

They leave the Council building at a brisk pace. There is an ocean of reporters and camera drones. Alpha and Omega step in front of him. Simultaneously unassuming and carrying an aura of sheer danger as they scan the crowd. There is a pause between the two and they nod upwards to the vehicles, many of them news vehicles, circling above.

“... I know this stillness. Everyone get into shelter.” Admiral Cistern orders. His voice calm but carrying powerfully enough that no one in hearing range misses it. “Now!”

He starts forcing the emerging crowd back and there is confusion from the reporters.

Then vehicles start diving from the sky. Accelerating to the point that there are sonic booms. Before they slam into hardlight barriers that Alpha and Omega have deployed. Other vehicles stop, but the moment they do pullets crash into them then detonate into powerful flares of plasma to burn out from the inside out.

The reporters scream as the crowd shatters and everyone runs.

Then some of the observing camera drones go suddenly still and then slowly moving upwards and to the sides. Alpha and Omega walk the shield back until it’s continual with the actual entrance of the building.

“So, they’ve hacked the drones and autopilot of the vehicles.” Admiral Cistern notes.

“Vehicles were empty sir, I suspect sleeping code traps.” Private Stream says holding up an image they and take in of the cars that had come down for them. There were a distinct lack of people in them.

“That’s a relief.” Admiral Cistern notes.

“Sir, yourself, Lady Ticanped, Lady Representative Zwen’Malor and Lady Val were at the front of the line.” Alpha states even as Omega quickly scans the still circling vehicles with his rifle out.

“I know. We were the most likely targets. Which means our opponent is... well insane. An attack this public after a declaration of war is just going to galvanize more of the galaxy.” Admiral Cistern notes.

“To attack us in the heart of our power! At the doorway of our very palace of discourse?!” Lady Ticanped fumes with a quivering rage as her tail slowly rises up and starts glistening sharp with Axiom “This is a place of-!”

She visible forces herself into a calm state and the sound of blades gliding across blades rings out as her tail slowly folds back up. Once it’s all one single line of feathers it loses it’s sharpness and she slowly lowers it.

“All representatives, please move calmly and in an organized fashion to the reinforced shelters within the building!” AN announcement rings out and the crowd starts to disperse even as police cars and several military APC’s and Armour starts flying in past the barrier.

“Sir!” Private Stream suddenly says pointing up as people start jumping from their cars before the cars start ramming into things.

Thankfully a few of the aircar pilots are Valrin, Metak, Sonir or other winged species and they swoop to save their fellows. Then Omega fires his anti-material rifle three times and just as many drones detonate even as they begin to swoop towards the evacuating civilians.

“Well, hmm... no doubt whoever our enemy is they don’t see this as an escalation but a response to our own escalation.” Admiral Cistern notes as the crowd of representatives are all escorted away.

“Overlady La’ahbaron is going to be furious about this.” Lady Val states.

“No doubt she will, her enemy doesn’t even have the decency to keep the fight between them, and that was after she refused to call for aid to keep the battle honourable.” Admiral Cistern says understanding exactly the words he needs to say to get a Face Culture to jump.

“Now with all due respect, I would feel more comfortable if the only people outside shelters have combat training and equipment.” Admiral Cistern states as he adjusts his lapel and across his torso tiny decorative buttons reveal themselves to be small totems that create a forcefield around him. Distort his image and conceal his features. “Now if you please?”

“I am not so helpless.” Lady Val states as she flicks her wrist and a bracelet unfolds into a pistol. Lady Ticanped’s tail snaps back out and there is the sound of cracking knuckles from Zwen’Malor as she exhales a small plume of fire from her nose. It’s bright green.”

“I was not aware that you’re a Battle Princess.”

“I’m not, I was forbidden by my family. Didn’t stop me from training beside them with my political connections.” Zwen’Malor notes.

“I see. Now that means that...” Admiral Cistern begins to say before a vaguely tribal looking suit of mech armour rolls around the corner followed by many, many more more common designed suits of mechanized armour.

“I only called for my armour.” Nikti Tal notes carefully and there is a pause.

One of the armours raises it’s arm and it’s entire torso detonates as Omega snap shots it through the central components. The suit is empty and breaks under the combination of kinetic force from the round and the compressed plasma stored within the modified bullet. Reduced to a shattered husk of slag the other armours start to move. The arm of one gets burned through by a plasma blast from Alpha and in the time it takes for Nikti to fully enter her suit of armour the rest of the suits have been rendered harmless and Lady Val is openly staring at Alpha and Omega before sparing Private Stream a glance.

The two men had taken care of four of the ten other armours each. But the boy had taken two.

“Flame, why can’t I remember the number? This is the same sort of thing that created the Vishanyan, the Charrtack Solutions Blacksite projects. The Virus that hijacks vehicles to use them for assassination efforts.”

“And they’ve made heavy use of it against The Overlady and her subjects.” Lady Val says sombrely.

“Alright, it’s clear they’re in the building effectively. I am evacuating myself to The Dauntless and getting my forces to clear this madness. I welcome everyone present to join me.” Admiral Cistern states and the room turns to him even more. “Is there a problem?”

“You think moving is best?”

“We’re clearly the target, the building is clearly compromised meaning it’s not safe here. Furthermore if we get out of here the risk to the other ambassadors and representatives diminishes.” Admiral Cistern states.

“Unless they take hostages.” Lady Val notes.

“True, however best of bad options. Let us displace to a more advantageous position.” Admiral Cistern notes.

“So this is not a retreat?”

“Only a fool stands where their foes want them. I’m not retreating, I’m getting the army they just attacked.” Admiral Cistern states. “I’m letting these fools bleed on the spear they’ve just hurled themselves on, letting the guns of the firing range they intruded onto fire. Nothing more. Now let us go so we have a proper and comfortable view of the action.” Admiral Cistern notes before Private Stream clears his throat. “Bad?”

“Very. We’ve been hit on Zalwore and Skathac.” Private Stream says.

“Any casualties?” Admiral Cistern asks immediately.

“Only damages.” Private Stream replies.

“Small mercies.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Gotham, Undaunted Flying Base, Skathac)•-•-•

The large vehicle dips down and dives beneath the charging zeppelin. Well, not really a zeppelin. The large floating vehicles mostly just looked the part and made heavy use of anti-gravity to stay up. It also meant there was a lot more room on the inside. But they mostly moved like them. Meaning slow, ponderous to turn and it had resulted in a very silly game of dive, climb and weave to dodge the fact that three of the other ‘zeppelins’ were clearly under the control of a hostile party.

But they couldn’t just shoot them down. They were in contact with the women on board the ships and they were trying to purge their systems of a truly pernicious virus.

“Can I take the controls?” Scout asks after a bit as they climb up to dodge another attack.

“You have the training?”

“I’ve been watching you.”

“Maybe when we’re not playing a really dangerous game?” The Pilot asks.

“Yes, I agree.” Admiral Hynala notes. “Now steady on pilot. Just make sure we make no contact as our allies purge the...”

There is a bang that interupts them and he sighs before going to a wall panel and pressing the button to contact security. It goes through.

“If this is about the latest bang, whoever set this virus on us managed to leak it to a light vehicle and it just shattered against the underside of the vehicle. Some dents and scratches, but most damage is to the paint.”

“Thank you.” Admiral Hynala states.

“Oh! Sir! Sorry for the flippant tone.”

“Yes, do work on that.” He chides them. “Still, try to ensure that we don’t have a bumpy ride.”

“Sorry sir, we couldn’t just shoot that one down. We had to send out a soldier to intercept and get the civilian out.”

“I see, I prefer scratches to the paint over dead civilians. Good choice.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Outside, Undaunted Arcology, Zalwore)•-•-•

“What in sparks and stupidity is happening?” Zyen’Huwt demands.

“A lot of them have people inside them, screaming that they’ve lost control.” Banshee notes.

“Hacks the lot of them. Whoever they are.” Ellie says.

“No kidding, gagging whoever you’re hijacking is step one.” Elija agrees.

“No, picking your mark properly is step one.” Ellie replies.

“There are like fifty step ones sister. Actually grabbing things is like the last step.” Elija remarks.

“Excuse me, but what are we actually doing out here sir? The defences on the archology and numerous other forces guarantees we won’t be needed.” Naomi Fleetfoot asks.

“True enough, our guys in the sky have this well handled. But if things go screwy and someone needs on the ground help I’d rather be close by and ready to offer it than have to sprint all the way from your barracks just to make it this far.”

“Oh! Okay.” Naomi says.

“So in other words enjoy the show but be ready to be part of it?” One of the girls asks.

“Something like that.” Bjorn notes then looks down as he finds Elija tugging at his pants.

“Yes?” He asks and she opens up her jacket to show what looks like an industrial strength compression bra. “Why did you flash me?”

“Just wondering something.” She says.

“Such as?”

“If you were backed up and...”

“I’m your superior officer. Even if I was desperate to the point of obsession the answer would be no.” He says and she lets out a sigh.

“Yeah figured. You’re probably too big for me anyways.” Elija says and then flinches as Ellie smacks her in the back of the head.

“Come on! Stop thinking with your... uh... What’s your threshold for sour language?”

“Do you see civilian children?” Bjorn asks and she looks around.

“No?”

“Go wild, but not over a communicator.” Bjorn tells her and then tuns her out as she starts screaming every swear word she knows in multiple languages. He files away a few of them and recognizes a few more from what are now six languages that he only knows the profanity in.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant?” Banshee asks.

“Yes?” He asks and she gestures for him to lean closer. He does.

“Be careful around Zyen’Huwt. I did some asking and she was in Titan Squad for a bit before being reassigned. She kept getting into arguments and near fights all over the place. Nothing bad enough to get a reprimand but...”

“Just because my people are not known for exceptional hearing doesn’t mean we don’t have functioning ears.” Zyen’Huwt says walking up and planting her fists on her hips. Glaring absolute daggers at Banshee.

“Everyone will calm down. We are on the same team. Banshee, while I appreciate warnings, talking about someone like that while they’re here is needlessly provocative.” Bjorn says and she sighs.

“Yes sir.” She says and steps back as Bjorn rises up fully.

“Are you alright Sergeant?”

“Permission to deal with her myself sir?”

“Denied. She will be on scrubbing duty for an extra night in rotation of the barracks duties for this. But no one has been violent. Merely impolite.” Bjorn states as he turns his back on the semi-battle happening overhead and to his platoon fully. “Ladies. I understand that there will be friction among you. That is normal and expected. But despite any friction I want you all to completely understand that above all else you are all on the same side. Is this clear?”

There is some agreement.

“IS THAT CLEAR!?”

“Sir! Yes Sir!”

“Very good! Now troops, as silly and stupid as the events above us appear to be, we are still technically battlefield adjacent. So heads in the game! The enemy has decided to be cheeky and we are here to make sure they don’t even get a slip of what they want! Are we clear?”

“Yes sir!”

“Glad to hear it. But it looks like we’re just getting a show. Provided that nothing too bad happens, we’ll be getting dinner as well afterwards. It’s Steak Saturday in the messhall after all.”

First Last Next

First

Antlers, Assumptions and Artillery

“And as much as I would LOVE to personally send your lazy, scrawny asses right over the finish line with a strong right boot! I don’t think any of you pukes would survive the force required! And so, in order to give some slaver scum a PROPER BOOT right in the behind! I will be leaving you to Instructor Reviz! He will be seeing to you pukes and ensuring you don’t break like dried twigs when the opposing side has more than harsh language to throw at you! You will respect this man and refer to him as Sir, Drill Sergeant or Instructor Only! If you fail to respect this man I will PERSONALLY DRAG THE FRONT LINES TO ZALWORE IN ORDER TO PLANT MY BOOT INTO YOUR BEHINDS WITHOUT DERELICTING MY DUTY! ARE WE CLEAR!?”

“YES DRILL SERGEANT!”

“GOOD!” Bjorn bellows at them then turns to the Snict Soldier beside him and offers a salute. “Instructor Reviz! The meat is yours.”

“Thank you Instructor Veers. I’ll be sure to toughen them into some proper boot leather for kicking enemy ass.” Instructor Reviz says saluting with his blade arms and both men nod to each other.

“Apologies for the delay admiral, I needed to see to the hand off of my troops.”

“Nothing to apologize for Lieutenant Veers. After all, things are moving quickly and small things are better remembered than forgotten.” Admiral Crosswind says and he nods.

“Thank you sir.” He says taking off his campaign hat and sighing.

“Something wrong?”

“I like this job sir. Thankfully if Command doesn’t suit my aptitudes there will be further calls for Drill Instructors.” Bjorn says.

“Very good. Now, it’s time to meet your platoon Lieutenant.” Admiral Crosswind says and he nods after tucking his hat under his arm.

“The Penal Platoon. I understand that they’re the higher skilled, but either low discipline or low wisdom recruits with dubious origins we’ve taken in correct?” Bjorn asks.

“That is correct. They’ve been on some rotating duties back and forth for a time, and you’re already familiar with Captain Shriketalon.”

“I am.”

“A few of the Penal Platoon are familiar either to him or to his original situation.”

“I see.”

“There are five considerably higher level combatants than the rest.” Admiral Crosswind says handing over a Data-Slate as they walk and Bjorn activates it.

“Higher level as in?”

“As in they’re going to be the tip of the spear in your platoon.” Admiral Crosswind says as he brings up the first file.

“I recognize her.” He says seeing the dark haired Apuk. Unlike many of her kind her hair is short, very short.

“Zyen’Huwt, prospective battle princess that let her racism and competitiveness get the better of her in The Broken Shell tournament. Leading to Vernon Shay publicly shaming her and causing one of the only tournaments in living memory where there was no winner. But it is widely agreed upon that she was the loser. She then joined the Cinder Monks for several months to find personal balance in spiritual retreat before confronting Vernon about his actions. He gave her a recommendation to The Undaunted. Through a combination of her time as a Cinder Monk and her being pushed as an Undaunted she has crossed the threshold fully into Green Warfire use. She will be your absolute Powerhouse.” Admiral Crosswind says and Bjorn lets out a low whistle.

“And her attitude?”

“She’s naturally competitive. Especially physically. But she’s actively working on toning it down. From what we can tell she was always encouraged to push as hard as she could growing up and her defeat at the Shellcracker tournament was the first time reality honestly crashed down on her.” Admiral Crosswind continues as Bjorn reads out just how hot her warfire is.

“A Trytite test?”

“A bar of trytite versus a bar of any other normal metal. Interestingly the Axiom in Warfire counts for a lot as trytite shares it’s melting point with iron. However numerous materials rated for much higher heat indexes, included ablative anti-thermal starship armour, cannot resist the warfire as well as trytite.”

“Which means she can burn her way into most ships with ease as very, very few hulls have more than a thin layer of trytite in them to block enemy Adepts. If that.” Bjorn notes. “Okay, so literal firepower and... hmm... A Rabbis woman.”

“Your Platoon is entirely female.” Admiral Crosswind states.

“That wasn’t what was surprising me. I have furred Rabbis for wives and getting a reminder that half the species looks like extra-armed humans in cosplay took me off guard. Anyways, Miss Naomi Fleetfoot, Just corporal rank? I assumed that after Sergeant Huwt she’s be a sergeant as well.”

“She’s a natural follower I’m afraid. Not fit for command and trusts far too easily. The woman is completely guileless, which is a problem because she’s a living whirlwind in melee.”

“Good soldier but far from great?” Bjorn asks.

“Exactly. If you can drill any critical thinking or any form of proper cognition into to her, then I’ll call that a miracle.”

“Hmm... not sure the military is the best place for someone so guileless.”

“She insisted up and down when she learned that Vernon Shay is a member of The Undaunted.”

“Okay, so that’s two people attached to the lovebird. Any others?”

“Not from Vernon, but we do have a very recent add on that’s quite powerful.” Admiral Crosswind says and Bjorn goes to the next file and his eyebrows go up.

“Saint Bluelaser?”

“Banshee is her proper name.”

“No last name?”

“She’s from Lakran Two Nine Seven. Recovered by Emperor Skitterway on his path to ascension. She decided quickly when she arrived on Centris that she didn’t want to be there anymore and requested, specifically, to be part of a team that wouldn’t be impressed by a title she feels is empty.”

“Hence the Penal Platoon.” He notes as he skims her profile. “Age unknown, has spent an enormous amount of time in a near death state, unable to die but nearly completely helpless, cloaked a large area in Axiom against anything that had similar touches of Ode. Fond of ranged weapons and has been learning medical techniques to make up for her lack of ability in that area.”

“Correct. The other two big hitters are former prisoners.”

“Elija and Ellie. Fraternal Metak Twins. Slightly unusual, but not exceptionally so. Previously a pair of hijackers that had been caught, imprisoned and their sentences illegally extended due to being framed for damaging prison property and labelled as high flight risks. Hmm... it doesn’t say what they hijacked previously.” Bjorn notes.

“Well, you’ll be able to ask them soon. Most of the rest of the legion either were recruited out of gangs in the lower ten and there are a couple more from here in Zalwore. Troublemakers thrown off their ships and legally acquitted or pardoned pirates.”

“Perhaps Penal Platoon is appropriate.”

“None of them are currently criminals.”

“Fair, but like many Penal Legions in history this is basically another chance for them.”

“Correct.” Admiral Crosswind says and he smiles.

“Then I know to do this.” He says as he skims the rest and gets their faces down.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Penal Platoon Barracks, Undaunted Arcology, Zalwore)•-•-•

“Platoon! At attention!” A huge bassy voice sounds out and all conversation, games and laughter stops. They move to the front and line up. Admiral Crosswind enters first. Followed by a figure that’s borderline distorted with his sheer muscle mass. He scans them all and nods.

“Good. Good! That’s what I like to see. Although we could definitely work on some things, you’re trying. You’re all here to break away from your old lives and we’re about to damn well do it.” The Man says as he walks up. There is a strange cast to his muscle, an ease to his movement and a comfort in his step. He didn’t just use some Axiom tricks and inflate himself. He built up that power. “I am First Lieutenant Bjorn Veers. Until today I was serving as a Drill Instructor, making sure that the endless tide of naive children and dreaming dimwits that sign up by the millions will actually be able to help out when girls like you throw down and not just get in your way.”

There are some smiles at that as he starts walking down the line. “Now, you have been delayed in your otherwise standard duties, and I have been promoted because of one thing. War. Someone has decided that the rules don’t apply to them and are forcing the issue. We’re going to remind these idiots about a little thing called consequences.”

There are some chuckles.

“Now, I know you all have some stories worthy of solid drink, and there’s no exception to that in this room. Everyone here has toughed it out, everyone here has gotten good and dirty when they had to. That’s perfect. We have someone playing so damn dirty that the whole galaxy is jumping on them. We’re getting in on the action. You ladies will be under my command and Captain Shriketalon will be the man in control of the ship we will be serving on. We will be escorting an experimental, self expanding and evolving fleet. Starting from the very edge of Cruel Space we will hit the battle line from behind and with a few hundred thousand metric gigatons of pain. Are there any questions so far?”

“Sir?” The sole Apuk asks and he nods.

“Sergeant Huwt?” He asks.

“Two things now sir. Apuk names are the whole thing in proper format.”

“Very good Sergeant Zyen’Huwt, what was your original question?”

“In plain terms, what are our expected duties?” She asks and he tracks that her eyes flick down the line. She’s covering for someone. Fleetfoot maybe?

“Very well, to be absolutely clear. We have several parts to our mission, and to be perfectly honest, it ends with a question mark because we’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen past a certain point. But what we are certain of is that in a few short days The Inevitable will lift off from Centris and begin returning to Cruel Space. During it’s exodus it will have an escort fleet that will include two component craft currently attached to The Inevitable. One is a research and development craft and the other is a rapid production and repair craft. Once we’ve reached the safe limits we will depart from The Inevitable to allow it to enter Cruel Space alone with the escorting fleet now providing protective detail to these two components of The Inevitable. These components will then be used to manufacture a much larger mothership. It will produce further fleet vessels and reinforce itself as the entirety of this force makes a wide turn to approach the conflict zone from a novel direction and with much more firepower than anticipated. And when we reach that point, that is where we do not know for certain what happens next. Best case scenario the opponent catches a raging case of sanity with a side order of self-preservation instinct and surrenders. Otherwise, that’s when we really get to work.”

Bjorn then clears his throat. “Or in other words. We are on escort and protective detail. We will be crewing and assisting on board The Bloody Heron and using boarding action to personally take or destroy enemy craft so that their ship components can be used to fuel the growth of the mothership.”

“How well armed is the ship?”

“It has successfully fought of pirate attacks on numerous occasions. But above all else the Bloody Heron has several powerful traits. Firstly, it is considerably larger on the inside than anyone would expect. It is Lydris built and designed, then redesigned by a Valrin. It is fast for a ship it’s size and we have up armed and armoured it to the point that it counts as a Frigate. It has been modified to be capable of being piloted by a single person and is the vessel of Captain Shriketalon. There will be additional crew assigned to his ship to man the cannons and keep his engines in tip top condition. But make no mistake, The Bloody Heron is his. You will defer to me in all manners second only to god during this, and in many matters I will be deferring to him. Does this make sense soldiers?”

“Yes sir!” Rings out. Not uniform, not universal and not as enthusiastic as he would like. But it’s there. He can work with this.

Now he has to tell his wives that he’s going into a dangerous situation with dangerous women and might not be back for years potentially.

Because that’s going to end well.

First Last Next

First

(Screw summer heat... and it’s only going to get worse!)

The Pirates

“Teacher?” His student asks and Franklin looks up. The class was new, very new, not even a full month old. But it had paid off so well.

“Yes?”

“The Undaunted are going to war.”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to war.”

“I am.”

“Are we?”

“Do you want to?”

“What would we even do? We’re Student Adepts, not soldiers.”

“If you can’t figure out something useful to do when you can disintegrate small amounts of matter into raw Axiom and use it to fuel light seconds long teleports, then I have failed you as a teacher.” Franklin remarks with a slightly strained grin. The lesson was already nearly ending for the day and he was growing uncomfortable.

Having him as an instructor was... odd. If you let him lecture and explain things then the lessons could be stretched to two, sometimes three times the average length. But if he was in other details he quickly grew uncomfortable. It wasn’t enough to stop the lessons or stop anything. But it was something easy to read in his body language. Unless he was being very serious. Then all the ticks and strange quirks stopped and there was a terrifying focus.

They only saw that once. When a pair of hothead pilots had slammed their ships together and no one had won. Except, Franklin had. He had CAUGHT the falling ships before they could crash and transferred the kinetic energy back into Axiom energy to create a feedback loop, destroying concepts to fuel practical Axiom use. The fires on the ship? Snuffed out as he stole the thermal energy to heal injury. The power cores overloading? He stole the energy at dozens of kilometres of distance to repair the damaged craft before carrying them all to a pair of flat plateaus that were being evaluated for appropriate fertility.

A jaw dropping display of sheer power and ability... and then he struggled to get a word in edgewise with the two pilots when they exited their ships to keep fighting. He had to force both of them to shut up before he could even start to speak with them.

“Will the lessons stop?”

“Yes, I’m going to be fighting in a war.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No.”

“... Why not?”

“I’m just not. The things that happen in war aren’t the things that scare me. They’re not the things I struggle with. Yes, it’s going to be loud, and uncomfortable and there’s going to be a lot of annoyances. But it’s all about solving problems. And I can do that. That’s a lot easier than just living with one problem or another or just not having the permission to solve an issue. IF they don’t want me on the front line and rearranging things, then I can do it in the logistical section or in civilian evacuation, medical transportation. Emergency Axiom based repairs and healing. To say nothing of the value of long ranged teleportation when it comes to scouting and other forms of Recon. I suspect Sorcerers will get more of that.”

“About that teacher.”

“Yes?”

“Why aren’t you a sorcerer? You love using Axiom. You love finding new ways to use it, new tricks and techniques and powers. Why not sorcery?”

“I need to let it in. I really don’t want to.” Franklin says.

“What?”

“I tried. But... I don’t really trust it. I can’t. And since I can’t fully trust it, I can’t be a sorcerer. And honestly, the more I think about it, the more I know I don’t really want to. Sorcerers are told how a lot of things worked and are helped in making it work. That’s great. Good for them. I want to see it all myself. Not with someone telling me everything, but figuring it all out myself. There’s so much more in doing something yourself compared to knowing it.”

“Like?”

“Like here, like now. I can guide you step by step through every bit of disintegrating a boulder and using the power to kick a distant asteroid hard enough to leave an imprint of your feet in it. But if we do that, did YOU do it?”

“Well... no.”

“And while you’d definitely learn something, there’s a lot you can’t learn by watching. You need to do it too. And that’s the big thing with me and The Forests. I want to do it myself. I’ll listen and learn and watch others do it, sure. But I don’t really know it until I can do it.” He explains. “Still... we’re... oh. Class ended a while ago. Okay.”

“You got caught up in showing how targeted disintegrations can be useful.”

“Right, yeah, with cutting things and even art.” Franklin notes as he looks to the right to where several abstract statues were standing. Their outsides were flawlessly glossy and the delicate work of the stonecutting made it clear that standard tool use could not have created the twisting, hollowed out artworks. Surrounding each one was a pile of sand that had previously been part of the stone, but had simply fallen away.

“Anyways, everyone you can take home your practice piece of stone. It’s yours to keep.”

“Are you sure? That stone is...”

“They were pulled up out of fields to clear out more farmland for maize and sweet peppers.”

“But they’re so consistent.”

“We’re on an island chain primarily composed of basalt. These are regular rocks. We just used disintegration to polish them to a mirror shine.”

“Uhm... Teacher?”

“Yes?”

“What if we want to help?”

“Then you help. I’ve already got you answering to military code.”

“... Were you planning for all this?”

“Not this specifically. But combat, competition, something or another deciding to take a swing at us because they’re angry enough, hungry enough or too stupid to think it through... something would have happened that we would need you guys to act in a military manner. One’s come up earlier than I hoped, but not as early as I feared.”

“What’s your plan?”

“You girls ever imagine yourselves as valuable ship teleporters?”

“Entire starships?!”

“Entire Starships.” Franklin replies. “You’ve all moved entire cargo containers directly into orbit numerous times. IN terms of sheer mass and distance, that’s all we’re looking for.”

“To do what?”

“Tactical field redeployment. An ability for ships to dodge that can only be matched by short FTL bursts. But without the risk of cratering the hull with space debris.”

“... We’re war Adepts.”

“Nope, you’re trainee Annihilation Adepts with a skill for wide area and long distance teleportation. Invaluable in war and peace.” Franklin had... regained his energy. His early discomfort washed away as he focuses in on it. He’s smiling now, he’s proud of what he’s done.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Training Fields, Undaunted Arcology, Zalwore)•-•-•

“Come on you babies! Push the building down! Drive it into the earth! You all need to be tougher than trytite and sharper than mono-edge! Move your arms already! Push ups! Do them you dillweeds!”

“Drill Sergeant!” One of the recruits demands.

“If you can talk you can PUSH!” Bjorn roars back the trainee goes back to doing push ups.

“Drill Sergeant. I’m pushing. Can I ask?”

“Only if you keep pushing!” Bjorn replies. He’s doing push ups with all of them and has his weighted pack on so he can at least feel like he’s doing something.

“Sir, will we be seeing deployment?”

“Recruit do you expect to graduate with full field approval in the next week?” Bjorn demands and there is a pause in the movement. “Keep pushing pansies!”

There’s movement and only the sound of would be soldiers counting off the pushups.

“Sir, No sir!” The questioning recruit suddenly says.

“What was that?”

“I do not expect to be combat ready within a week Drill Sergeant Sir!”

“What was that maggot!?”

“I will not be combat ready within a week Sir!”

“And what makes you think that recruit!?” Bjorn demands.

“We’re only just being...” The Recruit tries to say before his arms collapse and he hits the ground. Bjorn is up like a shot.

“You get up right now recruit! Do you understand me? You are training to be an Undaunted not a doll without damn bones! Plant those hands back on the hypercrete and PUSH DOWN THE PLANET!” Bjorn roars.

The rest of the recruits end their fifty push ups and start rising. “Everyone Gather around and count off his last Pushes! He has five more to go!”

The entire squad gather around the groaning Alfar man who slowly pushes up.

“One-”

“Improper form! You still have five to go!” Bjorn shouts. The Alfar slowly forces himself up again. “One!”

The next four pushes are gruelling and slow, each slower than the last. But ultimately proper.

The final bit is done and Bjorn leads them in a jog around the arcology. The basic protections that Bjorn has worked into his arm as a scar and they have as part of their trainee badges keeps them all from freezing in the colder than average day on Zalwore.

But despite the environmental protection, Bjorn is the last man standing, as usual. Everyone that collapses and must be helped weighs down another until the entire crowd is trying to carry each other. One they’re all one big chain he goes to the middle of the mess and lifts that person up. Half carries, half supports the entire squad the rest of the way.

“All right you pukes. You’re conditioning is coming. You made it nearly a full quarter of the way around the arcology. That’s progress. Tonight we are going to retool your retention bands, teach you extra tricks. Tomorrow I expect to see you get halfway. If you impress me and make it three fourths. Then yes, you will be going to the war.”

“Sir it... Why is it our war?” One of the recruits asks and he glances down the line. A Rabbis man this time.

“Because some things are unacceptable. And if we don’t head out and deploy when the enemy is so evil, so downright begging to be beaten and struck down, then what in the name of god are we god damn doing calling ourselves soldiers?” Bjorn asks.

“... Will you be going Drill Sergeant?”

“I have yet to receive orders to that effect.”

“If you do sir?”

“Then I move out recruit. It’s that simple.”

They have nothing to say to that as he carries them back to their recruit barracks and they all stagger in once they’ve caught their breath. He sighs as they start sorting themselves out.

“Something wrong?” A voice behind him asks.

“They need a much softer hand than the training I received suggests. I’m not sure I like it. It makes it harder to get enough grit in their guts.” He replies before turning around and saluting Admiral Crosswind.

“... Drill Instructor Bjorn Veers.” She says after a pause.

“Admiral sir?” He asks.

“Your test results are in. You’ve passed Officer Candidacy Training. And with the war breaking out...”

“I understand sir. Thank you for the opportunity.” He says.

“This war is coming onto us far quicker than expected, so we’re assigning units based on who already has a history of working with others. The Bloody Heron under Captain Shriketalon will be the ship you and your platoon will be attached to.”

“Sir. Understood sir. Which platoon will I be in charge of Sir?”

“The Penal Platoon.” She says and he blinks.

“Understood Sir.”

“Any concerns?”

“No Sir.”

“Very good.”

“Is The Penal Platoon on Zalwore or...”

“They arrived yesterday.”

“I would like to meet my Platoon Sir.”

“Very good.”

“Hopefully we’ll be able to shift that dreadful nickname they’ve unfairly earned Sir.” Bjorn notes.

“Hopefully.” She says with a slight smirk. “And more hopefully you fully understand why it’s already called that.”

“Yes, the entire platoon, all forty soldiers, have either come from a criminal background or some form of cultural dishonour. But none of them are prisoners forced to fight alongside us. They all volunteered and proved themselves in basic training.”

“Correct. Still, these are some powerful personalities. Hopefully your... frame will encourage some behaviour.”

“Hopefully Sir. Will there be a...”

“You will be getting a slight pay raise. But we’re rushing things.”

“Yes sir, who will be the first Lieutenant that I will be serving with?”

“We don’t have enough officers. However you yourself have proven reliable enough.”

“And our primary objectives or goals?” Bjorn asks, brushing aside the fact he’s apparently not only getting fully commissioned but outright jumping rank.

“You will be part of the initial reinforcement and escort fleet for the Emerging Mothership that will be under the command of Saint Redblade and... what’s with that look?” Admiral Crosswind asks.

“I’m not certain that Operative Jameson is appropriate to have as a commanding officer. I’ve read up about him. He’s an exceptional, if not untouchable singular combatant and agent. One of our best, possible THE best we have as a singular combatant. But as a commanding officer? I’m not entirely certain I can see that Sir. I will reserve proper judgment for later, but would like to have my concerns noted.”

“Consider them noted. Now then, would you like to meet your platoon?”

“I would. Yes.” Bjorn says.

First Last

First

Meanwhile! At The Lab!

“Okay, what am I seeing?” The Intelligence Officer brought in asks as the programmer turns around and grins.

“Our new training simulations sir. We’ve remade several games to turn them into tactical and logistical lessons to get our newest officers up to speed fast.”

“We’ll have to send Jameson the larger a copy pronto. His window of rest and recuperation just closed.”

“Which isn’t good. Our mandated break schedules are the way they are for a reason. He’s barely had enough time to reach what we’d call an even or stable state.”

“Ah, but that was calculated as if he was just another Herbert that sprang out of nowhere on the day he showed up. He’s not. Even with the physical differences Harold also had a little extra. Bits and pieces of the members of the Nerd Squad that helped download his brain in there. Remember? Harold has tricks, quirks and techniques that Herbert does not. The calculation needs to be different.”

“It’s hard to do that test when we never have time to get him to something even mildly approaching a baseline. He was swordfighting mechanised armour within seventy two hours of being born. He broke in his new body after undergoing The Skitterway Life Extension Methodology by fighting a Primal of War. Twice I think.”

“Potentially three times. He had a bit of a scuffle in his hospital room when he woke up with oversensitive sticks for limbs.”

“... It’s kinda hard to get a psychological baseline for a person with that much concentrated crazy in him. Unfortunately his time between landings had him exercising like the amount of sweat he produced kept the ship running and he studied as if he wasn’t allowed to breathe without learning something new. The man is driven on a level that it breaks most if not all psychological scales we have. It blows so far passed obsessive that it actually isn’t easy to describe.”

“Yep.”

“And that man is being put in charge of what will be an ever expanding, adapting, up-arming and mobile fleet.”

“Yes.”

“Am I the only person in the room sane enough to realize that sounds like a really, really bad idea?”

“No. The problem is that despite his absurd track record and actions, we have seen some very interesting consistencies in his behaviour. His defaulting to diplomacy and de-escalation gave is an alliance with the Vishanyan which has led to this war. His willingness to train others and find lateral solutions has inadvertently led to a massive increase in power for The Apuk Empire and altered not only himself, but perhaps every human alive related to him.”

“Yes.”

“This is a man who has on record and in front of the galaxy resurrected the dead.”

“Yes.”

“His ship is going to have to have at least a small team of dedicated psychologists on it. We can’t properly model this man. He has such a clear line of demarcation between himself and Herbert that we can’t use the models that were taken of him before he left Earth. Furthermore, we can’t really use them for Herbert either because he’s been de-aged so significantly that his hormonal balance is going to throw off previous assumptions, to say nothing of the fact that his physical brain has reverted to a state before it finished development! And THAT was the version of Herbert that made Harold!”

“I came in here for an update on our training tools because we’re moving to a war footing and we need everyone ready on every front. Will these modified games work?”

“Yes. We also have modified a holoprogram to simulate a bridge to work these games from so it can be closer to real life.”

“Okay. What are the scenarios?”

“We’ve basically ripped off the Homeworld series of games. Including the grounded one with the premise that some unknown technology that the locals are worshipping as sacred has pulled your ship out of the sky and only a few satellites are left to give vague geographical data. Meaning that all craft are only a few meters off the desert ground at all times.”

“... That actually sounds kind of awesome.”

“We just replaced a few considerations in the original game and modified the control scheme into something operational from the bridge. Same idea of resource collection and the on the fly manufacturing of usable and useful resources. Realistic Mode includes a hard limit on crew sizes with ships and... it’s brutal hard. Large craft require fairly large crew until you get down the research tree, but that’s not realistic in itself. There’s no way to guarantee in real life that some kind of hoped for advancement is possible with your resources or manpower.”

“... Why not add dud research points on the tree, or even dud branches. Modify them to switch up on every playthrough so that he’ll never know what can be fully researched and what can’t but the resources are lost either way.”

“Because... that’s not how it’s going to work in reality either. It’s just...”

“Think of the research portions of the game less as actual research, your scientists are doing that constantly. But more along the line of the cost to retrofit and retool your already existing gear to advance your fleet and it’s capabilities.”

“Oh... well... give each technology, no matter how important, a percentile chance of just not working or needing another try per playthrough. That way we can see what they can do.” The Intelligence Officer offers.

“Workable, but suicide in some of the scenarios. We have three. Trapped on a planet is one, The Beast is the second where any close contact with the enemy vessels can infect your own and cause them to turn hostile. Infection of the mothership is game over. Finally there’s the long journey where you have limited resources and manpower and need to move across a wide stretch of galaxy using both stealth and surgical strikes to navigate around and conquer a far larger and more dangerous force.”

“Can the third scenario be reversed? Because that’s far closer to what’s going on here. We’re getting a lot of resources and allies, but our opposition are stealth experts. Mind controlled stealth experts, but stealth experts nonetheless.” The Intelligence Officer asks. Then pauses. “But it’s still going to be useful.”

“Not necessarily. The reason it’s in it is because that’s what happened in the story. For all that we’ve been working at this it’s ultimately just a few retooled videogames. We’re on a far bigger time crunch now. We’ll have to roll out upgrades instead of delivering a complete program out the gate.”

“More than that. Thankfully with the tools we’ve made we should be able to create a bunch of scenarios if we red-eye it.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (The Inevitable, Protected Undaunted Landing Platform, Undaunted Territory, Centris)•-•-•

“So wait, what’s this bit here do? It looks like a mag compress. But it’s ever so slightly off from the original designs.” The Drin Engineer notes. “The power balance is way off the prototypes I’ve helped put together.”

“There were some practical concerns. We needed wider magnetic beams in some parts to keep smaller particles of magnetic space dust from simply drifting into areas outside the pull of the main mag beams.”

“Really? That would... oh! Natural trytite composites! Or hell, just half formed trytite iron samples would likely shift the calculations a little.”

“To say nothing of how common diamond dust is.”

“Diamond... oh! Nanodiamonds? But they shouldn’t have even come close to these portions...”

“They were often embedded in larger debris. Anything larger than you’re pinky... uh... Than the tip of your antenna generally was well coated in nanodiamonds.”

“Why didn’t you use the carbon scanner?”

“... Shit.”

“You didn’t use the carbon scanner?”

“It was completely unnecessary! There are numerous other scanners throughout the entire system, a dedicated chemical scanner pointed right into the main crucibles was...”

“There specifically to deal with this! Come on, we need to fix the mistake you boys made.”

“Look a lot of the designs didn’t make that much sense and we only had blueprints at the time, not anything related to why what part was where and we were operating on a very, very strict resource budget.”

“That’s fine but you should have fixed it after you re-established communications and...” The Drin Engineer exclaims and then huffs. “Okay. Okay, we can fix this. We... don’t have much time and while these components will work in the short term, this war may drag. And even if it doesn’t it’s going to build up stress and it’s going to give us all sorts of hidden... we need to examine the Hive Carriers too.”

“Impurities?”

“Impurities. At the temperatures the crucibles would reach the nanodiamonds would basically just be some extra carbon fuel in the process. But it also means that many of the ships more delicate components might have micro-fractures or areas of varied conductivity or different levels of hardness or tensile strength.”

“Just the delicate components?”

“The larger ones are likely fine, a basic scan would find any concerning fault-lines or impurities in the metals for the outer and structural plating. But we need to give the internals a once over. The micro-impurities and irregularities that the nanodiamonds would produce are going to be a far greater concern in the delicate wiring and other smaller components.”

“That’s going to be a pain. The Hive Ships are drone carriers. Each drone will need to be examined as well.”

“Yes. They will be. But first things first, we need to ensure that every part of these manufacturing facilities are up to standard.”

“We did our best.” The Inevitable Engineer protests.

“I’m not accusing you of anything. You were in a tight situation and did your best, and we should have jumped on this weeks ago but there’s so much mess going on and all the timetables have been accelerated so we need to solve this now. The RAM must be made ready.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Victor’s Territory, Restored Pharmaceutical Plant, Vucsa 5)•-•-•

“And by the name of Vucsa itself, by the system and by the hearts of the people, I cast out any lingering shadows so that this factory may bring healing rather than harm!” He finishes the blessing. Several villages were animistic in faith and would only work in the repaired factory if the building was blessed to cast out what remaining spectre of The Hate Engine and Mother Massacre’s touch was exorcised.

The last of the holy water he had been given lands upon the concrete floor of the factory. It would be cleaned later. There are cheers and celebrations. Thanks as well from the many women.

He had come to know his people better in the last few months. Learned things that had surprised him. Several of them had come from families that hailed from voluntarily primitive colonies. But sometimes the daughters of the tribe simply cannot stand living in a way where you must break the earth each season or lose your daily bread, but couldn’t stand to be in the great cities of chrome and concrete. Vucsa had been a potential middle ground, but it had been infested with criminal parasites.

And just as things were well and truly improving...

“My Lord?” The new Factory Admin asks.

“Yes?”

“Are we going to be drafted for the war?” She asks and his eyebrows go up.

“No, you will not. I however, I am liable to be called. But I can provide far more for any war effort by increasing production. Building and blessing more factories so we are never short of the medicine required to save lives. I can, and I shall, do far more for The Undaunted as an administrator. As Baron, I can do far more.”

“Why are you so concerned?”

“... Because much is changing. There are many recruits and trainees across the world. Will we be asked to lead them? Will we be told to remain behind and ensure the medicine, food, munitions and more remain in steady flow? No matter what choice is made the economy and stability of the lands and people under my care will be affected in different ways and I cannot make a proper move to compensate for this new pressure without knowing in what manner we will be called. But the call has not arrived yet, so much is being done upon Centris that no one fully knows who’s doing what yet, and I prefer to start sooner rather than later.”

“My Lord, I have seen several shifts of power over my life. Nearly a dozen in fact, the old factories around her ewer fought over a lot. The fact that your concern is how this will hurt us and how best to shield us from it is... Thank you My Lord.”

“It is my duty. No more worthy of praise than washing oneself. This is simply what is expected of me.”

“I hope you live a very long life My Lord, you are going to be a tough act to follow.” She says as she walks away and he glances back to her before straightening his posture further and surveying as the factory workers are all given their education in working the machines and the safety procedures. All of it will be needed. Even simple painkillers like these are a godsend on the battlefield.

First Last Next

First

Herald of Red Blades

“Yeah, I got that. Yes sir.” Harold replies into his communicator before the call ends. The timing is bad. Very bad. His wives were either heavily pregnant, freshly laid their eggs or otherwise burning with all the wrong instincts for battle and war. His eyes shift back and forth as he tries to divine some kind of special secret in something else, but the walls of the still undecorated house provide no answers, even if he can see the telltale signs of Astral Hargath in the Od. Everyone was calling the people relevant to their own deployment or looking for answers in what to do. War was coming, war was coming fast and he himself had been named as the edge of the blade.

“I volunteer.” Rain says as she opens the door.

“Rain.”

“I know I am physically a girl, but I have the full Vishanyan commando training for long range reconnaissance and assassination missions. I am still an expert in stealth warfare, capable of intercepting and deciphering enemy documents and communications.” She says before he can get another word out.

“It’s not your abilities I’m worried about Rain.”

“Then why haven’t you said yes?” She demands.

“We’ll be facing Vish. Enslaved, mutilated and still very deadly until neutralized.” Harold says. “Can you look into the eyes of your own people barring the miracle that Admiral Longitude and her fellows gave you, and pull the trigger? Can you still fight someone, potentially kill someone that you know is an innocent caught up in the very situation you’ve had nightmares about? Everything you were taught to fear as a child is the day to day affairs of our enemies, and as pitiable as they are, they are still the enemy.”

“But we can save them.”

“And we will. But for many of them, their freedom will be in the peace of death. Can you deliver that death?”

“I know my way around Vishanyan and Vish techniques. I could easily disable them.” Rain says and Harold holds up a finger and starts going through the files he had tossed his way. Then he nods and brings up a few outlines before tossing the device towards Rain. She scrambles and catches it. Then studies it with horror growing on her face. “What is this?”

“The level of augmentation many of the Vish have undergone. Can you disable that without killing it?”

“It? This is a her! I have friends with these scales!” Rain protests.

“It will take us time to get to La’ahbaron. And in the few months since we were first made aware of the Vish to now... they’ve gone from near Vishanyan style augmentics to that monstrosity. If the pattern holds... we might see worse than neural clamping.”

“Worse?”

“Worse.”

“What could possibly be worse!?”

“The popular names are de-braining and re-cranialization. The loss of all but the most necessary parts of the brain and a computer used to replace it. It can be done to corpses. It’s less effective than proper synths or basic attack drones or even robots who’s AI could have been spliced from videogame.”

“What’s the benefit of that?” Rain asks.

“Purely psychological and nothing else. A de-brained corpse is horrifying, terrifying and an altogether entirely irrational thing to deploy or even think of deploying. But we’re dealing with someone who’s installed arm and leg blades to deal with a society who’s species of majority have unbreakable skin. May as well try to null my ass. Or track you with a standard off the shelf camera. It doesn’t make sense. Too much of this doesn’t make sense. Blades are useless against the Ibu and you need blunt force trauma to induce internal bleeding or sufficient bruising to hurt them.”

“Surely an Ibu can be cut...” Rain protests.

“Not with blades like those. Plasma and Laser blades. Sintered weapons can maybe get in if you’re reinforcing the weapon itself with Axiom. But you need a proper Grindblade or Ripblade if you don’t want Axiom to do all the work for a microserrated weapon. Monomolecular might do it, but the sheer thinness of the weapon and the risk of it hitting bone means you might lose the sword. What you really need is a force weapon to cut them. But that’s why cutting them is a bad idea, burn them with lasers or plasma, smash them with club and hammer, they can still be concussed even if that skull can’t be broken.”

“Would coilshot do anything?” Rain asks.

“Yes, but you’d need repeated shots to guarantee a kill. And that’s if the Ibu is not a warrior and not protected. Both tall as hell orders in a polity that’s at war with invisible enemies.”

“I’ve seen plasma blade projector attachments in prosthetic limbs. These implants are... this doesn’t make sense. The weapons won’t work, they’ll only weaken the user and... what is going on?” Rain asks.

“I don’t know.” Harold says. Rain clearly is thinking and is letting out a soft hissing sound.

“... Is this about pain?” Rain asks.

“Hmm?” Harold asks.

“The only thing that these weapons provide is pain, and not to the enemy.”

“That is true.” Harold says.

“How do you make prosperity out of your own forces suffering?” Rain asks.

“That’s the million credit question. Isn’t it?” Harold asks.

“You think blood metal?”

“No. Blood metal has some very distinctive production methods. And there are far better ways to get what you want than this farce. Something else is at play.” Harold says.

“... Maybe whoever’s doing this is just fucking crazy?” Rain challenges.

“Maybe.” Harold says.

“We’re off topic though. I want to join up.”

“You’re sixteen physically and chronologically in your late twenties. If you want to join up in the fight I’m not legally allowed to say no.” Harold says and Rain pauses, considers and nods.

“Well I am.”

“Okay. Will you be doing this as an Undaunted, a Vishanyan or as another party?” Harold asks and she pauses.

“I... I don’t know yet.” She admits. “Do you know what you will be doing?”

“Yes. I’m going to be a reinforcing force. Putting together a combat fleet on the fly and...”

“I know that. How do you intend to do that?”

“The idea of me making a mobile fleet has been floated around a little beforehand. And I intend to use Sorcery to effectively allow me to bring in the people to pilot my ships as I need them. This will also allow further resources to be brought in if and when our mining operations start to falter.”

“But that means you can also visit.”

“Yes and no. I won’t be able to take any time off the ship. It is going to be my responsibility, my duty. Anything that happens will ultimately be my fault. I can be visited. But when we reach the warzone we’re only going to have the teleportation area accessible while under extreme security. It’s not known if sorcerous techniques or tools can be subverted, but I have no intention of being the man that finds out... unless I’m fighting a sorcerer, then I am entire willing to find out.”

“You plan on fighting a sorcerer big guy?”

“I plan to fight everyone.” Harold replies.

“Okay... The Trytite Lady.”

“Null bombardment followed with rods from god and numerous graser beams. If I can steal an anti-hargath totem then I’ll be able to use Ode to face her on more even terms. If I can’t get that then black caster shells en-mass to induce disintegration axiom effects and numerous black holes. I’ll be using some amount of warfire to try and fend her off, but if she’s close enough that warfire is on the list of usable weapons then I’ve already fucked up badly and am probably about to lose. If it’s just a distraction then I’ve probably achieved my mission objective at that point and need to make a fast exit. If she needs to die... I can keep going at that point. But for the sake of the people involved we better be on an uninhabited planet. Because it’s going to take continent crushing force to stop a Primal.”

“Do you think they’re going to show up?”

“There are two primals present on the planet, and two more connected to either the Vishanyan or The Undaunted might be able to call in.”

“Emperor Skitterway and Lady Greatpincer?”

“Skitterway is still Undaunted. He can be called to help. And Elvira may be pulled in by her desire to save other Vish the way she helped Insight.”

“Insight and her are... very different from this situation.”

“True.” Harold says and sighs. “... If she’s somehow brought in... I have concerns.”

“Oh?”

“She’s a civilian. A nearly indestructible and unstoppable civilian woman with immense political and cultural power. Insight Beyond Simple Understanding, her daughter, she’s going to either be called or not. If she is called then Elvira Greatpincer may join the fray. If she is not... then she may feel left out. And Elvira may go instead. Even if she doesn’t... someone may very well... no. Someone WILL ask her opinion. And whatever she says, is going to influence potentially three species across the entire galaxy. The Nagasha, Urthani and Wimparas are all bound together now in their shared state of having Primals.”

“You’re going to shift attitudes and opinions too Saint Redblade.”

“Yes. I am.” Harold admits.

“Do you know how many people signed up to The Undaunted because of you and the image you projected?”

“Too many. Hero worship is a bad reason to get into an army.”

“There are good ones?” Rain teases.

“You know there are good ones. Loyalty, duty, honour. Even seeking challenges or just a solid paycheck are good reasons. But doing it so you can become someone else? That’s almost as bad as doing it so you can kill people.”

“But you do things to become someone else.” Rain calls him out.

“I should phrase it better. Joining the army to be like someone you look up to and idolize isn’t the best reason. It’s far from the worst. But idols are delusions. They call me Saint Redblade, but they only saw that one moment where I worked with others to perform a miracle. They haven’t counted the millions of push-ups, they didn’t see me swing a practice sword over and over again until I can barely feel my hands and my own brain is shutting down due to the sheer monotony of the exercises. They haven’t seen me pull apart and put back together numerous weapons until I started twitching because it’s halfway between conscious thought and reflexive action.”

“Isn’t that the way of it with most things? You only see a painting and not the thousands of ruined pages as the artist tries to get one little trick or shape just right? You only see the tools you buy and not the mountain of thrown out iterations?”

“Exactly.” Harold says. “But the difference is, that I’m in the profession of war. Someone who sees only the end result and thinks they understand it will get themselves killed. Someone trying to copy an artist’s talent will just make a mess at worse, someone trying to recreate a tool might injure themselves. But some yahoo running into a warzone because they think they understand it from a game or because they studied the life of a soldier they admire? They’re just going to get themselves killed and drag down other people who try to save them or retrieve their corpse.”

“... That... that’s bad. I didn’t consider... the only civilian Vishanyan are too young to actively fight and even they have training.”

“Most people don’t Endless Rain of Retribution. Being a soldier, warrior or even a simple guard is unusual. Exotic, but far from unknown. We are people who are expected to do something scary, something dangerous and something that sings in our most ancient instincts in our day to day duties.”

“Oh yeah yeah, the ancient instincts of the Vishanyan, dating back... what? Two, maybe three hundred years?” Rain asks flippantly.

“The instincts of the Cloaken and the Miak. Both predators with unique hunting styles, nesting styles and ways to survive in a dangerous galaxy.” Harold corrects her.

“I suppose. I’m still signing up.”

“Okay? What do you want me to do something about it?”

“Oh for the love of! Are you just being dense!? I want on your ship! The experimental mobile shipyard beast you’re going to be making!”

“Thank you! Now that you’ve properly said it we can discuss it!”

“Wait, you knew?”

“You’re still kinda technically under Velocity’s command. If you were just signing up for the war or making it known you want in you’d go to her and she’d relay it to the Vishanyan admiralty. Then you’d probably get a support or logistical role due to your lack of bodymass preventing you from carrying standard munitions and noticeably thinner frame meaning that standard armour no longer fits you.”

“Oh shit you’ve known the whole time.” Rain notes.

“Yes.”

“Well why did you draw it out?!”

“I didn’t! You did you fucking teenager!”

“Oh my god...”

“He’s on Lakran.”

“Oh fuck you!”

“Fuck you!”

“... I still want on the ship.”

“Provided you’re willing to go through some crash courses in Undaunted Doctrine and methodology then we can have you as a trainee officer. We’re going to need you to take on a flexible roll and basically helping all over. But we can make it happen.”

“... Thanks dad.”

“You're welcome you blue pain in the butt.”

“Hey!”

First Last Next

First

(... Yeah, summer sluggishness is fully in place.)

It’s Inevitable

Observer Wu and Captain Rangi share a look as the official announcement is made. “Our trip has just been cut short.”

“Yes captain, it has. I’ll need to pound through my next few interviews even faster. Thankfully The Trytite Lady is well known for keeping to her schedules regardless of circumstance. Her oath is her bond.”

“You know Wu, if nothing else we have some fierce competition for what will be the most incredible part of the report. The miniature war we were dragged into? The literal galactic scale damage we caused? The Numerous Gods I’ve spoken to? Interplanetary teleportation? The full on war growing? Maybe the long list of mind shredding horrors that The Undaunted have already faced and come out the other side.”

“Wu... you know what the hate engine is, don’t you?”

“I do. I made a study of it. It’s effectively a massive engine that sends out a mental signal that any living brain picks up. It turns your aggression, all the way up. All the anger, all the rage you’ve ever felt? Pales in comparison to what a hate engine makes you feel. Got a few interviews of survivors. I kept them to myself. I do not like what I heard. Not at all.”

“So, imagine that you’re feeling all the rage your are physically capable of feeling. Your biological maximum wrath. What do you do when you’re like that.”

“You kill, you break things. You rampage.” Captain Rangi says.

“Yes. That’s the Hate Engine.”

“How does it affect humans?”

“Hits the wrong part of the brain. The fear centre, it also scrambles our ability to perceive the world and causes cerebral hemorrhaging. More directly lethal while you drown in a nightmare. I got... private little snippets from the men who went through it. Just hearing about their nightmares, gave me some nightmares.” Observer Wu says grimly.

“And The Pale Generators?”

“They haunted Albrith. You remember the planet...”

“The planet with the many, many abandoned cities?” Rangi asks.

“The result of Pale Generators. They also ate many of the corpses.”

“I see. Albrith had many horrors that I’ve seen in my sleep.” Captain Rangi admits.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad out here. The galaxy has... a lot. But it’s being met.” Observer Wu says before Lady La’ahbaron stands up on the screen. Both men quiet down to listen.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Galactic Council Chamber, Primary Council Building, Centris)•-•-•

Ornate synthetic eyes scan things. Transmitting everything faster than light itself towards the controller far, far away. The blue skin is close, so very close to the actual skin of an Ibu’Cjeo that it’s only the tiny ornamental flourashis of artistic talent that give away the prosthetic body’s nature as anything other than the real thing.

“Much has been said of me and my people.” Lady La’ahbaron begins. “But never once has it been said that we are asking for help. We are not struggling in war, we are dealing with an annoyance, that much like a particularly pernicious disease, refuses to break as is appropriate and proper.”

In her own palace, and within her own sector The Lady La’ahbaron takes a slow pull of an ornate pipe as her prosthetic does the same.

“The closest thing to any form of request of aid, or admittance of difficulty that my empire or myself have ever performed in these matters is when our countermeasures accidentally proved too effective and targeted the tame and downright harmless strain of the pests attacking my people. As such, as was proper, we have explained ourselves, then evaluated the reactions and reasoning of the people who received these insights. When they proved trustworthy they then were gifted with more information, as is proper and prudent.”

Back in her palace, Lady La’ahbaron runs out of her herbs and taps out her pipe before slowly refilling it, both to indulge, but also to exercise power on a galactic scale. It takes precisely thirty seconds for her to speak again.

“The Undaunted, so informed, have decided that the information cannot be kept to themselves and have shared it with you. As is their right. You have called this council to order in deep concern that criminal wretches with no value for the morals, lives and dignity of others... are in fact criminal wretches with no value for the morals, lives and dignity of others. Which, while a rather obvious revelation, is still a step in the proper direction. I have heard, and overheard, many individuals in this chamber express disgust and scorn for the affairs that have occurred. I have heard promises of vengeance, blood and war against the criminals responsible. And while it grieves me to know that my own people will no longer have the pleasure of bloodying our youngest and least experienced warriors upon so plainly evil a foe... I must question exactly what the numbers involved are. Oaths are easily sworn, but what precisely shall we be seeing? How many guests will be fighting beside my people against this pest?”

She then lets the question hang.

“We have several small fleets crewed by elite soldiers and expert combatants that will be moving to reinforce you shortly. This will also include an experiment fleet that shall be put together during transit to test a new style of fleet composition. It shall be led by Harold Jameson, also known as Saint Redblade. As for precise numbers we are in the process of mustering as we speak and shall soon have hard number in the form of a proper headcount of available soldiers, munitions and ship tonnage.” Admiral Cistern announces and there is a slight pause.

“What form of experimental fleet Grand Admiral?”

“Essentially a self assembling, self sustaining and ever adapting, evolving and expanding fleet centred around a singularly powerful Mothership that will act as the logistical hub of the fleet. It is my intention to create a new type of fleet capable of adapting to any unusual occurrences on the fly and tactically overcome any opposition.” Admiral Cistern explains.

“What would make you even dream of such an unusual thing? It sounds more like a mobile military base than a proper fleet.”

“Well yes, I would like the capabilities of a proper military base and a fleet in one.”

“And how do you expect this experimental fleet to be of proper assistance?”

“It will constantly push the front line forward, allowing your enemies to be hounded and harried with your own forces, and mine, receiving constant resupply and the resources required to fight at maximum effectiveness far longer than the enemy and remain effective throughout.”

“I see, and the captain of this Mothership. Is the Saint Redblade as good as the stories portray him as?”

“Even better, the man has fully embraced our ethos of self mastery and self improvement. I assure you that no matter what rumour you have heard about his capabilities as a warrior he has already surpassed them in the intervening time between the creation of the rumour and the time it takes for it to reach you.” Admiral Cistern states and Lady La’ahbaron nods.

“Good. Now what of the rest of the galaxy? Does your hatred to Neural Clamps have a number attached, or a caveat?” She challenges.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Frost Estate, Flower District, Vanidus Plate, Centris)•-•-•

“Yep, we’re committed. Hmm... I’ll need to check in. I’m not sure if they’re going to want to send me out due to my attachment to the police.” Chenk notes while tapping his chin ever so slightly.

“How are you not worried about this?” Gabriela demands. “You’re possibly going to be deployed! War, death, all the horror and doom that i entails!”

“I was ready for this before I left Cruel Space. Hell, I was ready for this before I left planet Earth. I’ve never stopped being ready.” Chenk says. “I full on expected to be a sapper rather than a police officer, but life can surprise you.”

“Sapper?” Gabriela asks.

“Combat engineer, generally specializing in explosives and the like. I expected to pierce enemy walls, disable enemy mines and otherwise have a very explosive career that could have ended at any moment.” Chenk says and Amy turns to him in horror. “What?”

“Your job is that dangerous?”

“I work with explosives, how is that not dangerous?” Chenk asks.

“But it... sorry.” Amy apologizes.

“War, what will war do to our stock holdings?” One of the Businesswomen asks.

“She’s been adopted by one of them too, does that mean that the companies will be folded into an Undaunted War Chest?”

“No her assets cannot be taken control of by The Undaunted unless something truly absurd is done, by her, to provoke it.” Haley says.

“Absurd as in?”

“Hiring mercenaries to attack Undaunted soldiers or citizens in good standing.” Haley says.

“Oh... uh...”

“Yeah, the humans rights to plunder things is fairly limited in who they can do it to... but not so limited in how much they can do it. They’ve hollowed out entire organizations.”

“To be fair the last...” Chenk starts to say and then considers. “Ten times that happened, this month, we also opened up numerous charity houses and rehabilitation clinics along the bottom ten of numerous spires.”

“And the eleventh time?” Amy asks and Chenk considers...

“It was confiscated ships and the like, they’re being upgraded and incorporated into the Undaunted Fleets.” Chenk says.

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Although I am also quite curious as to what... other Undaunted assets will be doing.” Chenk considers.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Equation Casino and Bar, Level 8, Ven Spire, Centris)•-•-•

Moriarty narrows his eyes at the announcements. This... this could go many different ways. He swirls his drink in it’s glass and takes a sip. Like most of his available fare it’s somewhere between elegant and crude, enough for the people down here to pretend that they have something more than the squalid swampy conditions they dwell in. Over the droning hum of the dehumidifyiers and air purifiers the many nations outlining their forces and swearing to accomplish something are ringing out loud and clear.

“Boss?” Mister Steel asks.

“Just hold on. We’re not going to be left hanging for long.” Moriarty assures him and the moment he stops speaking his communicator on the table between them buzzes. Mister Steel answers it and examines it.

“You’re in the clear. You’re not expected to fight in a war, but they are now willing to pay a higher premium on several assets.” His cyborg assistant says and Moriarty smiles thinly.

He rolls his neck and the Axiom flows along his antlers to float over the communicator and have it display the message for him. “Excellent. See? Holding onto things like that pays off in the end.”

“I have my doubts, but you’re the boss.” Mister Steel says.

“That I am. And don’t forget, you get a proportional cut to the sales you perform. Which means this higher price...”

“Lines my pockets further.” Mister Steel notes dryly. “So we going into weapons?”

“Of course, there’s a greater call for them after all. Supply and demand my friend. Supply and demand.” Moriarty answers.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Primary Bounty Office, Station Xinef, Orbit of Halsis 3, Halsis System)•-•-•

Pukey, Slithern and The Hat all watch the ensuing vows and promises and Slithern lets out a slightly confused sound as Lablan announces a Noble Reprisal state against not only the Neural Clamped Vish but whoever or whatever is controlling them.

“Reprisal?” Slithern mutters. “But that’s for retaliation...”

“Apparently the idea of the clamps is just that offensive.” Pukey says and Slithern nods.

“Not like I don’t agree, even The Chaining didn’t go that far and they... well. We know what they did.”

“Yeah. We need to contact central, see what’s changing and what isn’t. The Chainbreaker is a monster, but we have civilians aboard, so taking it to the front is...”

“Do I count as a civilian? Slithern asks.

“Yes, but if you want to protest that... well you can, but I’m not going to like it, and neither is your mother or uncles.”

“And what makes this so different from a hunt? I can go on them now.”

“Because there are less places to run on a battlefield and far, far greater expectation of violence. Even as a drone operator, being close to an actual battlefield is really sketchy compared to investigating while heavily armed.”

“Didn’t you say my drones were getting legitimately scary?”

“And being scary makes them big targets in a warzone. Also... I’ll be frank, as your father there’s no way for me to be happy with you in a war.” Pukey says throwing his arm around Slithern’s shoulders. “That’s just dad rules.”

“Got it.” Slithern says before thinking. “... If you don’t want me on the field... then how about my designs?”

“That! Is much more acceptable. You’ve got all kinds of amazing little tricks. But first, back to The Chainbreaker, we need to see if we’re being ordered in or not and where we can keep everyone that isn’t going near a battlefield while we’re out kicking ass, taking names and freeing slaves.”

“Probably Zalwore.” The Hat notes.

“Probably yeah.”

First Last Next

First

The Dauntless

His portion is highlighted and his face is being shown to the galaxy, again. Private Stream flows in behind him and holds up a little a tray with the relevant data slates, a cup of hot coffee to settle him as much as much as serve as a prop and he makes a point of turning in his screen and nodding towards the Apuk Representative and where Lady Val is bowing to let an extremely ornate Ibu’Cjeo prosthetic steps up and theatrically scans the area as if she’s passing judgment on them all.

The delicate, hand carved mechanisms that adjust the cameras of the ornate synth’s eyes can be outright seen in the image.

“May I speak first?” Zwen’Malor asks.

“I am generous enough.” La’ahbaron says and Admiral Cistern raises his mug and take a sip of the steaming coffee.

“Thank you. To those who are unfamiliar with my portion of this situation, recently an enclave of a preciously unknown species was found at the periphery of Apuk Space. Unfortunately their cultural caution and a degree if internal dissent among their numbers caused them to lash out at The Apuk. As a response we offered them terms of surrender which they have accepted. For the next one hundred years these people are clients of the Apuk Empire and will be learning from us. Once those one hundred years are finished they will be permitted to leave our care without consequence or durance from us, but we have also offered the option of staying within Apuk Control. To this end we have also incorporated numerous members of their species as apprentices and students of numerous government employees as a form of mentorship program. To which, I will now cede my speaking roll to my student in question, her name is Cautiously Regarded Foes.”

Seeming to phase out of nowhere a soft blue Vishanyan woman reveals herself and boys.

“Greetings. I am Cautiously Regarded Foes, you may refer to me as Regard for expediency’s sake. My people are the Vishanyan, which directly translated means Freed Vish. The Vish and resulting Vishanyan are a manufactured species, created by the now defunct and destroyed Charrtack Solutions. We were one of fifteen blacksite projects. One of the successful ones, although we were presumed unsuccessful by those who have either lawfully or unlawfully confiscated goods and information from the now deservedly destroyed corporation.”

“We are soldiers from first to last. All but a single member of our species, currently known as Miracle, were born in pods and raised communally. And as terrible as many of you rightfully believe it is that I do not have a mother and never have had any knowledge of what it is like to have a mother, I can count myself as blessed to be Vishanyan and not Vish. As the only other enclave of our species lives in slavery, and is being forced to attack the La’ahbaron Empire. As a people, we were created to be assassins and invisible soldiers. We are well suited to this. While our stealth abilities are comparable to a Cloaken it uses novel techniques and methodologies that allow us to sidestep the vast majority of detection methods that would catch a Cloaken. This is deliberate design and by sheer instinct, my people are far more comfortable invisible than visible.” Cautiously Regarded Foes asks.

“It is... difficult being seen by so many people. I have had to take some medicine beforehand to avoid a panic. Left to our own devices, anyone of Vish heritage will be reclusive, private, non-disruptive. We cling to our families of either birth or choosing and keep to ourselves. This instinct... doesn’t show up anywhere near as strongly in the Miak or Cloaken we were spliced from. This is a control mechanism, and a telling one.”

“Someone is forcing Vish, women who have never known a moment of freedom, of choice or of dignity, to grind themselves into paste against the Ibu Soldiers of the Empire of La’ahbaron. Our origins were not our chosing, but that we can give birth to natural children. That we have every instinct of love and dignity and compassion that any member of this council possesses proves that! We can be a people! We can be one of you, but someone is taking what may very well be half of our entire species and having them slaughter themselves in fruitless combat for no known cause!”

She pauses. Then takes a deep breath. “They are being mutilated! Implants that we’ve banned and ceased all production of when we went from Vish to Vishanyan have not only been replicated ut somehow made even more monstrous! There are scars, little hitches in the scales around the mouths of our oldes and most senior members, toxic fangs. False ones, but somehow even worse, the protections stripped from them and the installation method breaking the jaws of the poor women forced to take them, or brainwashed into wanting them, and that’s IF the neural clamp just takes the choice away entirely!”

“We’ve been mustering since we first heard that Vish were being used in war. But the discovery of Neural Clamps means it’s even worse than we feared. I call to anyone who holds value in the sacredness of life, or the sanctity of free will to join us. We intend to go to La’ahbaron, and root out our errant cousins. Cut the lines that forces them to obey their terrible master and chase that wretch, whoever they are, into the waiting jaws of anyone willing to crush that kind of abomination!”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Giana’s Family Restaurant, Level 172, Thual Spire, Centris)•-•-•

“... Oh... oh shit it’s just hitting me.” Sarak notes.

“Duty calls eh?” Baked asks as numerous counsellors bring up questions about The Vishanyan and Lady Ticanped lets a few through. Most of them about small cultural details or their location. Which they share.

“Yeah. There’s no way The Undaunted aren’t shipping out.”

“Care for my prediction?” Baked asks.

“I would like to hear it, yes.”

“We’re going out in a big escort alongside The Inevitable, we see it safely into Cruel Space and The Additional, Logistics based sections get broken off and used to create a proper mothership to follow the now diverted fleet heading to La’ahbaron and bring in more supplies and logistical strength.” Baked remarks. “And that’s only if whatever is controlling the Vish doesn’t reveal more resources or forces. We have to jump on this, and many other parties do too. But, this is also effectively a warning to the enemy. Public access to knowledge means that whoever is responsible for these events, they’re likely watching this.”

“I just found my family, and now I’m going to be deployed...”

“Not everyone goes out, we will still need men to assist with training and to hold ground here on Centris...” Baked notes.

“I’ll have to try for that. But so much of my brothers in arms will be sent out and...” Sarak says before sighing. “We’re going to have to kill some of the Vish, aren’t we?”

“Taking all of them alive is... not possible.” Baked says. “There’s also the question as to who is doing this. No matter who they targeted, there is no way that they thought this could stay secret forever. So the question then becomes, who thinks they can divert or endure this level of rage?”

“... That is a terrifying question.” Sarak remarks. “But I can tell you what’s going to happen next. Which is the same thing that happened last time someone thought that using Neural Clamps was a good idea, they had one of the biggest bounties in galactic history on them. La’ahbaron is not only about to get a huge amount of reinforcements, but the price on the head of whoever did this is going to be so high that entire bounty hunting teams will make their fortunes catching them. The information naming them will be enough alone to live on a plate for a hundred years with no other income.”

“La’ahbaron space is about to get very crowded with some very well armed people.”

“To say nothing of the locals, Ibu have rules they live by. I’ve run into them before. If you fully break those rules, give them cause to think they’re out the window. They just start breaking everything. As a people they want destruction.” Sarak remarks.

“Bad experience with them?”

“I did mention that I had to hide from pirates once didn’t I? They were Ibu... the red ones with two horns. I forget the proper name. It was a five hour nightmare as I crawled through vents and maintenance tunnels, with a crowd of giant red women tearing the ship apart to look for their ‘prize’. Fighting back only amused them, and I learned fast that even the deadliest booby traps I laid behind me just let them know they were on the right trail as they literally sniffed me out.”

“What kind of traps?”

“Knives and sharp things under tension that was released the moment they opened the way into where I went. I know I got a bunch of them, but the knives and shrapnel only broke against the stomachs and faces of the pirates. They thought it was funny.”

“How did you get out?”

“I kept moving and eventually a patrol craft got close enough to catch our emergency broadcast and they came to attack the pirate ship. They left to avoid losing their craft, but they already killed the captain and a good chunk of the security crew, the security girls still alive had limbs snapped like twigs. They had nearly wrecked the cargo hauler and made off with a lot of goods at the end. But we were still spaceworthy. It’s why I wanted to learn how to fight. I really didn’t like having to hide for my life.”

“Well yeah, fighting is better than hiding, most of the time.” Baked says.

“Shh! They’re switching things up!”

Everyone turns back to the screen.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Galactic Council Chamber, Primary Council Building, Centris)•-•-•

Cautiously Regarded Foes nods before taking a step back and fading away. Zwen’Malor steps forward to take her place.

“Thank you all for your sympathy towards our clients, I have been informed by The Empress that we will be sending assistance to each aggrieved party in this state of affairs. Serbow and her daughters will not be found wanting in these times of trial. La’ahbaron there will be an influx of weapons to use against your foes alongside allies to fight beside, and to the Vish, no doubt some of you, enslaved or not, understand what this means. Tell you dread master that the galaxy comes for them, tell them that the daughters of fire approach, and in that quiet dark place where the Neural Clamp cannot touch, exult dear child. Exult in your coming freedom.”

“Thank you Madam Representative, Lady La’ahbaron. I see you have graced us with your presence through a synth, would you care to speak?” Lady Ticanped asks.

“I would hear what The Undaunted would have to say first.” La’ahbaron states.

“Very well then. Grand Admiral Cistern, Founder and first of The Undaunted. You may speak.”

“Thank you Lady Ticanped. I’ve taken the opportunity to refresh my mind on the tactical, moral and logistical situation of what is going on. And while I have no cause to doubt the enthusiasm and willingness of the galaxy to deal with the atrocity that has been presented to us all, I will keep The Undaunted Stance on these affairs simple and succinct. We have a simple protocol of study and destruction for any vile technology that influences the mind. We call these Cognito Hazards, threats to the very mind. In every case we have found them we have destroyed them and brought the criminals responsible for them to justice. This is no different. Granted we will require far more force of arms than usual to deal with this. But like The Pale Generators, The Slave Veils, The Persona Nails, The Hate Engines, The Hag Earrings, The Mind Slayers, The Frenzy Patches and other unnamed Cognito Hazards we have already dealt with, we will see an end to this barbarism. And we WILL find whoever is responsible for this, and they will meet justice. In full and without reprieve. There is simply no excusing these actions. Thank you for your time.”

“... Are you entertaining questions?” A representative asks.

“Yes.” Admiral Cistern states.

“I don’t recognize all the things you just listed.”

“I apologize, but I must decline to fully answer. A full description of some of the horrors we have encountered might inspire some unsavoury parties to attempt to recreate something they now know is possible, and dealing with a Hate Engine once is already quite the ask for my soldiers, to say nothing of the rest of the list.”

“Why did you call out The Hate Engine?”

“Because it, alongside The Pale Generators, causes so much in the way of widespread damage that if one were activated upon Centris we would have at most a few hours to somehow locate and destroy it before the entire world is reduced to a tomb.” Admiral Cistern says plainly. “That’s correct, there are mental weapons of mass destruction... if you struggle to sleep for some nights after learning that, you’re in good company.”

He takes a sip of his coffee with a slightly haunted look in his eyes. There is dead silence in the chamber.

“Oh dear, I think I remember which night you must have gotten this bad news.” Lady Ticanped breaks it ever so slightly.

“Yes, thank you for being there during that time.”

First Last Next

First

The Dauntless

“And there’s also the consideration that numerous organizations are already bidding for...” Lady Ticanped trails off as an emergency alarm sounds out and Admiral Cistern answers immediately.

“Admiral Cistern Present with Lady Ticanped, Ambassador Nikti Tal and numerous assistants. How sensitive is the information?” He demands all business immediately.

“It will be public shortly sir. We were evaluating the in depth scan of the intact Vish that the La’ahbaron Empire Submitted for study. Sir, they have Neural Clamps. If you do not immediately understand the issue..”

“I know what it means to recover a body with Neural Clamps on it.” He says openly. “Send all your information to me as soon as it is properly formatted. I will begin the appropriate proceedings.”

The call ends and he turns to the room that’s staring at him.

“Neural Clamps? As in one of the first and oldest examples of outright evil technology to use on a person that people have been executed for putting them on more intelligent animals? Let alone people?” Nikti Tal asks with wide eyes.

“Who would be so foolish!? I only heard your reaction beloved, who is responsible for that atrocity!?” Lady Ticanped demands.

“The forces currently attacking La’ahbaron. Using enslaved Vishanyan, or rather Vish. There was a recent transfer of information, among the information was an in depth scan of a Vish soldier who had been killed with a minimum of damage and had been heavily augmented. Apparently one of those augments was a neural clamp.”

“Who’d be stupid enough to try? It’s one of the oldest and most agreed upon law that anyone caught using those things not only loses all legal protections but there will be neither sanction nor protest against any force raised against them. And with how so many different states outright hate any use of that tech... hey wait! Why didn’t the La’ahbaron Empire bring this forward?” Nikti demands.

“They are an Ibu polity. Exceedingly stoic and private. They are as a people, ritual bound.” Lady Ticanped explains.

“Correct, I’ve made a study of them since we started interacting more.” Admiral Cistern explains. “Essentially they couldn’t admit to facing an opponent with such reviled technology and tactics because it would be seen as asking for help, or admitting that they themselves could not deal with the issue.”

“So why didn’t they let it leak or have an ally spill the beans?” Nikti asks.

“That’s what they’re doing now, but those same traditions and expectations means that they have to be very choosy for who they’re sending to do this.” Admiral Cistern says. “The time since they first started honestly looking into us and our handling of the Vishanyan and our willingness to talk to them on their own level means they could start a countdown. Since we didn’t do anything wrong by their measure during that time period we can be trusted by them. Which means they could share information without it being shameful. Which meant that we might notice something that they’re too stoic to admit to, and if we find something distressing and call in allies to help, well it wasn’t them admitting weakness. Any shame that might arrive...”

“Belongs to The Undaunted. Of course.” Nikti sighs. “... So the rumour that Ibu are so addiction prone that they spun around into the opposite direction and do everything by ritual to avoid it is true then?”

“It is, and my few Ibu soldiers have confirmed it. The culture runs off of balancing extreme restraint and indulgence. As an aside, never go into the places the Ibu have set aside for indulgence.”

“How do they do it?”

“Heavy fines for infractions and high prices for the places of indulgence. To balance it out those kinds of businesses are taxed heavily when they’re not government run. Generally the pleasure houses are what fuels most of a city’s infrastructure.” Admiral Cistern answers.

“While interesting to know why we haven’t learned about this from the primary victims, we still need to have some kind of evidence or readout.”

“We have a comprehensive scan of a slain Vish who had a Neural Clamp. Which while enough to sound an alarm, some parties will require a full body and will grow upset if we fail to provide on promptly. I will send a formal message to La’ahbaron requesting an actual corpse so I may rally further support in their justified defensive... and I’m already using the language required. Excuse me. I have some work to do.” Admiral Cistern says as he rises up.

“And I will have much to do soon, Nikti, may I trust you to continue this organization? I have a list here of all things we need a minimum of.”

“Yes, I have the time.”

“Good. I need to get everything ready. It appears that there will be a time of war in the Galaxy soon, and directing all the required debates and deliberations will be quite the event.”

“Quite the party.”

“Well it requires much the same infrastructure in the form of refreshments and appropriate atmosphere. I’m am dreadfully sorry this has landed on you, but duty calls!” And with that Lady Ticanped leaves.

“Okay, to the professional wedding planner I hired is actually going to be working upfront and without me as a mouthpiece, got it.” Nikti notes after a moment and chuckles. “Why do they have to make this stuff so complicated? There are literal entire industries based on this, they don’t have to do it all themselves.”

“It was more Lady Ticanped doing it all herself and Admiral Cistern and yourself running interference for her grander ideas.”

“Point.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Frost Estate, Flower District, Vanidus Plate, Centris)•-•-•

Cats, Cops and C4

“Everyone! Everyone please if I could have your attention please! May I have your attention please?” Amy calls into the room where all her employees are gossiping and talking among each other, there is not a good atmosphere. Everyone turns to her and she meets their gazes with Chenk and Kye’Lan directly behind her. Linda, Vera carrying Sara, Gabriela and Namalla are all behind her.

“I’m glad to see that you’re all still healthy and in one...”

“Who the hell are they? Are they responsible for this mess!? Why are they not in handcuffs!?” A businesswoman demands.

“They...”

“What kind of complete fuckup is this entire affair? It’s odd enough for the majority stockholder of multiple companies to invite their boards into their private homes, but this!? Are you trying to send some kind of message.”

“I...”

“She was a mistake from the beginning and should never have been woken up to...” Another boardwoman starts to call out and Chenk steps to the side and pulls at the Axiom. Her rant is cutt off as his fingers wrap around her throat.

“Careful now girly. She’s my daughter now, which means that as a father I am morally obligated to collect the teeth of anyone that lets those kinds of words past theirs. Understand?” He asks then hefts her off the ground one handed. “And if you’re lucky I’ll just feed you your own teeth, if you’re not I’ll make a necklace out of them to strangle you with the next time you’re dumb enough to suggest anything like that again.”

He pulls her in close and glares at her with their noses touching. “Do we understand each other?”

The Tret woman gurgles as she tries to claw at his wrist. She starts pulling in Axiom and he simply raises an eyebrow. Then starts noticeably doing so himself. There are gasps around him. “That’s right girly, I only used Axiom to get in close. Now if you want to make this a contest of strength with Axiom pitching in. Understand that I can play that game too. And you still haven’t answered my question. Do we understand each other?”

She lets out a choking sound. Then nods. He sets her down.

“Good. Complaints are permitted, but keep it civil. I take threats of death against her seriously, I took them seriously before it was my legal responsibility and now that I do have an obligation...”

“Dad! Stop.” Amy calls over and he does indeed stop. He gives her an even look and nods before walking through the now intimidated crowd and to her side. “Now, do any of you want to know what’s actually going on, or just keep complaining?”

No one answers.

“Okay, I’m going to take that to mean you want to know what’s going on.” Amy says. “See her at the end? That is the poisoner. She was under the employ of a business competitor to sabotage me, and a few of you just showed yourselves pretty darn eager to capitalize on something like this.”

“Now wait a minute, that’s not legally actionable!” One of the girls that protested earlier shouts.

“You’re right, it’s not. But it does help me confirm more data so I can retaliate properly. Lets me know who needs to be watched all the closer. SO don’t worry, no jobs will be lost, but trust has been.”

“As has several others.” A new voice joins them as a very slight Feli woman walks in. “Hello Miss Frost. Myself and the team were watching the company finances, stocks and anticipatory buying and selling. We have some VERY interesting news.”

“Oh don’t say the names out loud, let me confirm it first.” Amy says and Haley walks over and hands over the data-slate she was carrying. “As expected. Some of you were... either ludicrously quick in updating your stock ownership, or had a bit of a heads up about all this. Naughty naughty. Is that not conspiracy?”

“Technically yes, but actually proving it in a court of law to the satisfaction of a Vanidus Plate Judge is another matter entirely.” Haley says.

“Well, we know who to watch now and...”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Giana’s Family Restaurant, Level 172, Thual Spire, Centris)•-•-•

Sarak pauses as everyone’s, including the children’s, communicators start going off. Things had been going shockingly well. Once he laid down the law that the past was for later, right now was for the future. The program running on the television that had been playing background music switches to display the Galactic Council and everyone turns towards it.

Standing central with her tail out and glistening is Lady Ticanped, looking as much like a statue of crystal and marble brought to life and only sparingly painted to make her few features pop.

“Representatives and citizens of the galaxy! Councilors and generals, rulers, ruled and all that lives within the laws that keep us civil! There is a dread announcement to be made!” Lady Ticanped announces. “It is unfortunate duty, and wretched burden to report a breach of some of our oldest trusts. That within this galaxy there is an individual, organization or entity so vile that they have brought back the full use, of Neural Clamps!”

Sarak’s eyes narrow and Baked only lets out a little sound of curiosity. Only the children he’s keeping civil share Baked’s lack of reaction.

“For those of us who have forgotten our galactic history, those who have perhaps joined the wider community only a short while ago or those who’s education simply has a particular hole in it. I shall explain. The Neural Clamp, is one of the earliest known technologies that can reliably destroy the free will of another individual. It is one of the very few technologies that there is not only blanket ban upon, but an automatic disenfranchisement of the offending party! These laws have been in effect since the foundation of our loose, but long lasting Galactic Federation! Every government that joins with us has agreed to these terms!”

“Some wretched forces, such as The Dark Cabal Pirates, have tried to find their ways around such bans without outright breaking them. Using novel techniques and tools to do so. However, this is not that. An active force is not only using Neural Clamps, but they are using them upon mass produce, genetically spliced soldiers to attack a member of our federation in good standing!”

There is a roar from the council, a furious call and lady Ticanped simply withdraws a remote and presses a single button. “Thank you for you enthusiasm counsellors, however, I am not finished.”

She looks over the council chamber and sighs. “The monster responsible for these multiple near violations and one extreme, clear violation of Galactic Law and morals, is attacking one of the few members of our immaculate tapestry of nations that would not on their own dare to speak of such a thing. For some among us, dishonour is a worse fate than death. For some among them, to ask for aid is to admit weakness, and among those there are some who understand reporting a situation as requesting aid with it.”

“Their target was expertly chosen.” Lady Ticanped states. “Which means we must attribute all these actions as a deliberate and knowing subversion of our laws and standards. However, these morals and standards, and the ones we all keep as individual nations and peoples must also be adhered to, less we devolve into the kind of monster which we oppose today.”

She looks right into the camera and then sweeps her gaze across all attending representatives. “And so, I call upon three representatives to share their insights. As the aggressed upon party to the violence that these Neural Clamped Slaves have been forced to deliver, I call forth The Proud Representative of La’ahbaron!”

“As the sponsors of the only free enclave of the enslaved people, I call upon the Apuk Empire to speak on the behalf of their Vishanyan Clients!”

“Finally, I call upon The Undaunted as the party responsible for exposing these travesties in a manner that does not impugn the honour, morals and practices of the other parties!”

“To you three I cede the floor for now, but I shall interrupt if appropriate concerns are raised in explanation or debate! The eyes of the galaxy are upon us all! Remind your peoples why you are worthy of your office!”

First Last