|
Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 20:07:14 GMT
Paranoia strikes deep Into your life it will creep It starts when you're always afraid You step out of line, the man come and take you away
--Buffalo Springfield, "For What Its Worth"
--oOo--
Meetings here, conversations there; nothing too drastic. In fact, what the Monarchs had thought to be uninhabited systems were simply faulty input from their 'Patron'; nothing a few calibrations on the way didn't fix. Despite a few false alarms where the Monarchs thought they'd have been able to meet someone new, they were happy that their destination was in sight. Already some of their fragments had converged on the way to the rendezvous point. By now, only five trios of Monarch Manifestations were left, and the 'Patron' Manifestations had left all of these, going on ahead to lay the 'foundations' for the STABS-2 Galactic Colony.
While it was true that the Monarchs could simply have asked their 'Patrons' to broadcast their Territory the moment one of their fragments had acquired a galactic map, they chose to take the scenic route for one reasons: it increased their chances of stumbling into potential acquaintances, and they didn't feel the need to set up shop right off the bat just because.
Of course, the closer they got to their desired location, the more their fragments were reduced in number. As a matter of fact, once every fragment crossed a certain radius, they disappeared altogether, instantly uniting into fresh Manifestations that appeared beside 12 youths decked in nothing but suits while standing firmly on the blazing corona of a white star. There was no need for all of the Monarch Fragments to traverse the final million miles or so; by then, their chances of meeting someone new was zero.
Or so they thought...
Zero, as it turns out, is a fairly abstract concept. Nothing is not always nothing; there are after all harder vacuums than space. Space is only mostly empty, but nature abhors a vacuum as they say, and handfuls of atoms have been spread with futile persistence into that void like drops in a long dead sea. Nature abhors a vacuum, and perhaps fate does too; for zero is not always zero. Fate is a fickle mistress, and with just as much passion as nature abhors a vacuum, fate adores convergences and coincidences…and oddly enough, the people who had been waiting there didn’t believe in either of those things. Convergences and coincidences were merely their calling cards.
--oOo—
It had begun with temporal intelligence reports. Something was coming for them. It was as simple as that. Something was coming, and it was going to come out of the dark and bring all of hell’s fury with it. Naturally, Dorin took this in stride; she could more than match anyone’s hell, pound for pound, and if they were still receiving reports from the future than it was obvious that the Ascendancy survived. In that much, she found reassurance, but what recoiled and took that reassurance from her were the specifics of what hit them. Things they didn’t understand were coming, and what they could understand was incomprehensible.
The Ascendancy in its own way knew that despite their billions on billions of years, certain things did not come naturally to them. They were aware of this, and did their best to accommodate. Inquiring minds would probe at the taciturn aspects of this galaxy, always prying into dark recesses of the soul and the cold and the things that skitter out from one and into the other. They may never have known names like Old Scratch or Alistair Crowley, but in their own way, in their own cautious, pathologically chilled minds, they were after them.
Oddly enough, the Immortal Empire had had better luck with tapping into the less natural powers in this galaxy, but even then the minds who pried and prodded and pricked suspected that they were barely scratching the surface. If there were things out there who could act in the ways described in these reports, then there was much more that they could do. Now things of that vein were known to be coming for them. Just who or what they are was not certain yet, but they knew the date they would arrive, and they knew where they would arrive, and they would be ready for them.
--oOo—
The procedure for creating a STABS was far less grandiose than creating a SHEATHES. All it took was a 'Patron' to 'anchor' the Monarchs' Essences to an area, increasing their stability and influence as opposed to simply letting them Manifest in their own stew of Territories. From there Standard Bearer Subjects could be created to expand SHEATHES-10 Territory, and despite being limited by the Locking Glyphs, a 90 mile per second rate of expansion meant that they'd be able to lay claim to the system in a year.
"We can't."
"Begging your pardon," Emperor Vulcan said, blinking.
"We cannot create STABS-2," Dante said.
"Why not?" the impatience within Empress Gaia's tone did not bear any disrespect; it was earnest, like a child waiting to open a Christmas gift.
"Your Neutrality Policy forbids laying claim to space that is occupied by a foreign faction," Dante said, "until it is truly empty, we cannot expand this Territory Field any farther than it is right now."
"But," Empress Hecate scratched her mask; a bad habit she had picked up recently, "we met nobody on the way here. Are they hidden?"
"We don't know," Dante said, slightly perturbed, "our Manifestations are not equipped to detect anything in stealth right now. All we know is that staking a claim now would be a violation of your Neutrality Policy, because it will not be fair play to any foreign factions present who have gotten here first. We would be forced to annihilate you if you force the issue."
"Well, that complicates things." Emperor Vulcan.
"It need not," Empress Gaia said encouragingly, "obviously someone got here before us. We don't know who or where they are, but our Patrons wouldn't like about such things. All our fragments have been gathered, and we have a map of the galaxy memorized. We can simply go someplace else?"
"Or we could stay here and introduce ourselves," Empress Hecate suggested.
"A good point. But we do not know who to introduce ourselves to," Empress Gaia said, "shall we put it up to a vote then? All in favor of staying, please indicate."
Two hands raised up.
"It's settled, then. We wait." Empress Gaia nodded as Dante dismissed the other 'Patrons', remaining behind with Damien and Valeria.
--oOo—
Dalyth could not spare her presence from the Overlord’s court for this. She was a key instrument in a war which could become so much more at a moment’s notice, and as such travelling away from her posting in pursuit of things she dared not believe in sat poorly on her shoulders. The emissary had been skeptical of the information provided to her by her hosts, but had passed it on via the proper channels to the heads of the Ascendancy. It had been a fascinating read, to be sure; she had not seen these visitors, but it was rather difficult in a mind molded so stridently after logic and reason to envision a race which travelled about in a flaming chariot. Her first instinct upon hearing the information was that she was falling prey to a prank of Carron’s part; the man certainly had a sense of humour, and if anyone could tell a tall tale surely Carron could.
Yet she could smell the earnesty on his tongue as he spoke of the duel, and the sigils that the overlord’s court were now in possession of proved that something had been out there. The question was what that something was.
--Assuming that the SHEATHES-10 entities utilize conventional propulsion principles, they may be arriving anytime within the next two weeks.—
The Heraldic text appeared silently aboard the communications post of the Taciturn Voice, floating around in a seemingly haphazard pattern like smoke on a breeze.
“I don’t believe we should assume anything, shipmaster.” The ship’s temporal overseer commented softly. “I’m not picking up any arrivals in the next month. Given the emissary’s reports on their nature, I’m not fully convinced…” the overseer pauses, a thin smile coming and then going from their face, “…that our sensors are suitable for detecting inbound chariots of fire.”
The shipmaster smirked understandingly as she leaned onto the console. “Ever hear the saying ‘there’s a first time for everything, overseer?” The shipmaster cracks softly as she gestures into the air, sending the Flux characters scattering as she drags a map of the system over to eye level. The temporal overseer looks puzzled, and shakes their head slowly.
“…no shipmaster. Quite frankly, that’s rather absurd—“
“For us, of course it is. But for everyone else?” The shipmaster glances over her shoulder at the temporal overseer, a nervous smile on her face. “We have to think like them on occasion, you know. Put ourselves in their shoes-“
“—what does this have to do with flaming chariots?” The temporal overseer asks, before more words from their distant emissary materialize around them.
--I would personally advise extreme caution with these entities.—Dalyth warns remotely. –Given recent events, I am not convinced a temporal rewrite could remove this impending contact effectively.—
What Dalyth does not say is that Dorin is mad to try this again; contact with the Centum had backfired more horribly than any other decision in the Ascendancy’s history, and then here she goes again. Here goes Dorin, Dalyth thinks privately as she muses skeptically over the decisions her leader had made over the last two years. Here we follow her, right into the ground, trying to talk with invaders. If the SHEATHES-10 were as powerful as their estimations put them at, it would be much more prudent to preemptively remove them from this galaxy before they get a substantial presence here; but no, Dalyth thought privately; no, Dorin seeks them out simply because of warnings.
--This may not be the wisest move to make.—Dalyth suggests diplomatically. The shipmaster sighs, and frowns at the words floating through the air nearby. Really, he agrees to an extent; Dorin’s leadership has of late been somewhat…he hesitates to even think of the word questionable, but it comes to mind against his will.
--oOo--
"Can you feel them?" Valeria said softly, "squabbling among themselves?"
All three Monarchs gazed off into the distanced. Ever since their 'Patrons' had arrived, they were refining the ability to observe events from afar within the galaxy. The Locking Glyphs severed all communications from the Monarchs and 'Patrons' within the Ancerious Galaxy to their Manifestations without, which was why the fragmentation occurred in the first place. But now, despite their Manifestations lacking the Monarch Expenditures to detect well-hidden targets, the 'Patrons' could exercise some long-ranged sensory abilities, since the Monarchs couldn't perceive anything outside their Territories unless such data crossed over their borders in some way. And what the 'Patrons' found did not bode well.
"This place seethes with violence and hatred," they informed the Monarchs en route to their destination, "are you sure you want to remain here?"
The unanimous reply had been given without hesitation.
"We are."
That didn't stop Valeria from trying to convince the Monarchs otherwise. But even now, as she relayed input on yet more faraway carnage, with the Monarchs fathoming the severity of the lives lost and families destroyed, their determination never wavered.
"Besides, we come not to spread more hatred," Empress Hecate said, "I doubt anyone can hate us for that."
"You could be surprised," Dante said, lips curled into something between a grimace and a grin.
"Shall we put a pause to the gloom?" Damien said suddenly, "we're waiting for guests, no? We don't know when they'll arrive, so why don't we show some good, old-fashioned, SHEATHES-10 hospitality?"
"Do they even know we're here?" Dante grumbled. "I mean, the Policy Violation Warning only triggered because someone got here before us, or is here before us. That doesn't mean they've noticed us."
"Then why don't we make them notice us?" Damien smiled, "Monarchs, this Manifestation requests additional Expenditures."
"Belay that," Dante said.
"Belay that 'belay that'," Valeria cut in.
"Expenditures inbound," Emperor Vulcan said, "what do you need them for?"
Damien waited for a few moments before giving them his answer. Holding both hands out in front of him, Damien concentrated. A large space station assembled itself within moments in front of him, its parts flashing out of nothing and flitting to their place. A few more moments were required to power up the whole thing, and in those same moments everything from life support to water for the swimming pools were summoned.
Above the station, in big, flashing, red neon lights was a single word:
'Casino'.
"I suppose that's one way to catch someone's attention," Dante sighed.
--oOo—
“So you’re saying there are races that for whatever reason have managed to transcend the laws of physics. You really believe that.” The temporal overseer proposed baitingly, and the shipmaster rolled her eyes at them. It was a game they’d played for a long while, baiting and conversing and baiting some more.
“To deny belief in something simply because it is incredible would make life awfully boring.” The shipmaster retorted, raising a finger to silence her brother in arms. “I can think of a few people who’d react similarly to the notion of, say…” she paused dramatically here, before sarcastically snapping her fingers and continuing much to the temporal overseer’s chagrin. “…a powerful civilization that no one sees! Cleary it’s much more logical to believe in only what you can see and taste and touch, yes…but on at least one occasion…”
“Yet how do people rationally react when they find out about such things, hmm?” The temporal overseer shot back in contradiction. “Do they go out of their way to encounter the unknown, see what makes them tick? No, of course not: they try and annihilate what they don’t understand. So here we are, trying to track down spirits—which I might add is really rather silly, when you think about it—when these spirits might just not want to be found-“
“--Shipmaster, I have unidentified energy emissions…wait…” the sensory overseer announced, his declaration wavering off into uncertainty as he detected the abrupt creation of matter out of nothingness. They were rather unfamiliar energy readings, especially considering the processes involved, and he looked away from the levitating displays with a dissatisfied look on his face.
“Waiting, sensory overseer.” The shipmaster responded in good spirits, the humour of her daily exchange with the temporal overseer bleeding over into her exchange with the sensory overseer. “Whenever you feel inclined.”
Even having served under Tullis for as long as he had, it still surprised him to see her in these moods. Perhaps it was the novelty of communicating with a Heraldic (albeit textually, but still it was more interaction with one of their leaders than most would ever enjoy) that had put her in this banterful disposition.
“…shipmaster, a space station just…popped up.” The sensory overseer announced hesitantly. Tullis frowned, and quickly strode down to his station. “…it appears to be some variety of…no, you know, quite frankly-“
“It just popped up?” Tullis asked skeptically. She knew that Ire was a competent sensory overseer, but things like that just don’t happen. Barring their strange inability to track their own ships, all of the “stealth” systems that the Ascendancy had encountered (baring notable recent exceptions) had proven to be rather detectable when addressed properly, and Ire knew how to do so.
“Yes, shipmaster. It just…popped up.” Ire replied, as he pointed to the pertinent readings. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. One moment that space is fairly ordinary space, and the next it’s…”
“…a bit out of the ordinary, you might say?” Tullis asks as she glances back at the temporal overseer, grinning slightly. As jovial as the game is, she is keenly aware that this is not a game, and her heart is beginning to beat a bit faster now as she considers the closing distance of moments and space until the two might meet. “Summon the Heraldic, and stand by for further instructions. Ladies and gentlemen and…others,” she adds, “welcome to the weird stuff.”
--oOo—
"How do you keep doing that?" Emperor Vulcan said, partially amazed and partially incensed.
"I am that lucky," Dante grinned as the Emperor handed over half his chips, which weren't very many to begin with. Empress Gaia and Empress Hecate had both folded, and both Empresses shared a giggle at their colleague's misfortune.
It was Dante's tenth royal flush, and despite the Monarch's best attempts, fate kept giving the 'Patron' all the good card. Well, that and his ability to cheat right under someone's very nose.
"You think they'll bite, whoever 'they' are?" Damien said. He and Valeria were seated across the gambling Monarchs, sipping coffee.
"To give into vices? No." Valeria said. "However, the burst of energy in the wake of creating this station, most likely; it sent out a pulse that anyone nearby with even the most rudimentary sensory equipment cannot ignore."
"Oh, good," Damien smiled, "the sooner we can negotiate for this space, the sooner STABS-2 will be operational."
"That's obvious," Valeria said, "but, you didn't read into my words well enough."
"Eh? All you said was...hold on." Damien paused. "Did you mean the energy burst?"
"Exactly. It appears your Manifestation maintains some of its usual cunning." Valeria gazed at Empress Hecate, and then back to Damien.
"I let it happen on purpose," Damien started.
"But the fact that it happened in the first place makes me worry," Valeria said, "surely you've noticed it by now. Something is different in this Galaxy, apart from the Locking Glyphs. Whatever is affecting the Monarchs and us wouldn't have taken effect had the Glyphs not been in place, but now that it is, I cannot help but feel that it is more than ordinary."
Damien was silent as he remembered each of their Fragment's first experiences. How as the Monarchs' Territory pushed out, something pushed back.
"Your ability to manipulate matter used to be...unhindered...by the logic of this universe," Valeria continued, "had you created this station in the Yggdrasil Galactic Triumvirate, it would have simply appeared without so much as a slight energy spike. But now, its creation was 'bound' to physics. You influenced the quantum state of this space and ordered it into that which makes up this den of thievery."
Valeria hurled her empty mug at Dante's head, causing it to rocket into the table. Aside from a few complaints, the young man did nothing and went back to his game.
"Such an event created a bit of a stir in the local quantum realm," Valeria said, "where normally it wouldn't."
"Be that as it may," Damien poured out another mug of coffee for his superior, "I don't get why you're so worried about it. It's not like we–!"
"It's not us I'm worried about," Valeria sighed, casting her gaze onto Empress Hecate again, "it's the Monarchs. All three of them have been diluted, but none so much as the Avatar of the Arcana State. In this place, she must obey the laws of physics, and I don't know if she who has never done so in her existence will ever get the hang of bowing to something that would normally never dare call itself her master. And if she is off her game, the others will follow suit."
Valeria's ocean-blue eyes met Damien's.
"If they are to survive this place, they need to be on their game. All of them."
"There are more Galaxies out there," Damien said in a low voice.
"And the Monarchs will visit those too," Valeria said, "However, they are an Exploration-Oriented SHEATHES. Their very Essences compel them to go here. Our job is to help them succeed. Even if a failure here will have little impact in the long run, given our roles and their jobs, it is for all sakes and purposes, out of the question."
"That's fine with me," Damien said cheerfully, "I don't like quick quitters, anyway."
--oOo—
“It appears to be some sort of recreational house. They call it a casino.” Tullis explained cautiously, the enigmatic faces of the people she addressed revealing very little about their appreciation of the fact. “Primarily these facilities are utilized for a form of voluntary barter which hinges on uncertainty of future outcomes, a bit like the games that children play prior to being introduced to chronetics.”
“This is a commercial establishment then.” One of the Heraldic Guards asked softly, his voice distorted by the split eyed helmets they wore. Tullis had not spoken to many Heraldics in her lifetime (and truth be told that lifetime was longer than most would think) and so now that they had reason to listen to her she spoke with impeccable diction and very cautious word choice. Even then, the guard spoke of it more like a statement than a question.
“I believe so, chaw’,” Tullis replied, using the honourific that the Flux equated with great travelers. Common Flux such as herself used it almost exclusively for discussing the Heraldics, though certain figures in their mythology fit into that category as well. She does not add her thoughts on the matter either, for they have not been asked for, and a common Flux does not speak unless spoken to by the Heraldics. It is simply not done. But Tullis would add, if it were asked of her, that it is highly unlikely any parties aside from their own will be reaching this station for the next week or so on account of its isolated location.
In this small room aboard the Taciturn Voice, more Heraldics than Tullis has ever seen in her life all loiter restlessly. Looks are exchanged between them and dialogue is softly shared too as the majority of them coldly assess Tullis’ wisdom in this situation.
“It may be prudent to deploy a merchant ahead of us—“ one begins, before one of the guards interjects, their synthesized voiceplayer sounding properly unnatural as it speaks.
“To do so now would reveal our presence here. If the SHEATHES entities are hostile—“
“—Emissary Dalyth’s intelligence suggested a strongly passive paradigm.”
“Dalyth is young, and her wisdom is questionable. Anyone who can resurrect the dead may not be anticipated to hold a high regard of life.”
Tullis watched in awed fascination as the Heraldics softly argued. Each and every one of them was so beautiful in the coldest way imaginable; they would never be more human than they were now, and even then they were so terribly far from that point. Their minds had been crafted so exquisitely to the philosophies that dictated their actions that to a certain extent they were more machines then men, but they maintained strange remnants of humour and humanity regardless. They were unnatural men.
One of the Heraldics, an emissary, turned towards Tullis and raised a hand, beckoning the others to silence. “Shipmaster Tullis, what are your estimations of the SHEATHES entities sensory capabilities?” It was more of a rhetorical exercise than an actual inquiry; the Heraldics had all read the same reports she had, and had surely more wisdom to apply to the matter than her. Tullis blinked, then began to answer.
“The entities have already demonstrated evidence of their unorthodox manipulation of space, matter and energy via the creation of this ‘casino’,” Tullis began cautiously, keenly aware that her value was being judged by each and every face that was turned towards her. “I do not find it at all inconceivable that they may have already detected—“
“Blasphemy.” A bored voice from the back interrupted, silencing Tullis in a horrified shame while the emissary shot a glare over her shoulder towards the source of the sound. To question the unimpeachable integrity of the Ascendancy’s traits was not truly blasphemy, but it was tantamount to it on a non-religious level; yet recent events had shown that blasphemies could happen, and the emissary did something very strange in response to that.
“Please forgive that chaw’s manners, shipmaster. Old habits die hard. Please shipmaster, continue.”
It may have in fact been the first time that a Heraldic had ever apologized to a common Flux, and ironically enough Tullis would not remember it once she had left the room. But Tullis continued regardless, and explained her positions on their situation. A Heraldic merchant may have better mentalities for relations with SHEATHES if their disposition dictated the construction of a casino before fortifications or an embassy—and many, many apologies were given to the emissary for suggesting she was not the perfect candidate for the job. The emissary dismissed these apologies and thanked Tullis for her contribution, before dismissing her. Tullis soon forgot the whole encounter.
“You speak to her like equals, Darrus.” One of the guards growled electronically, obviously dissatisfied with the exchange. “I was of the impression you were Heraldic-“
“You never learned the art of social fictions, did you?” Darrus replied beautifully, as she calmly glanced back at the group. Of them, they were all in theory equals; all equally responsible for the best possible outcome, but individually each had their own ambitions which, while similar to the whole, was hardly communal.
“The shipmaster’s assessment was astute. These entities’ choice towards construction priorities clearly indicates a passive demeanor in terms of combat. While this equally suggests a strong power reserve if defenses are not their immediate concern, I believe that it would be best not to display force—“
“If their logic does not hinge on caution, then they are illogical, and if they are illogical we ought not trust in their passiveness.” The leader of the guards protested, and Darrus nodded conceedingly. “I never said we were going to trust them. Trust is unbecoming. What I am saying is we approach them as they invite us.”
So the Taciturn Voice slipped away from the small fleet that accompanied her and began a slow, long looping arc towards the station. It was a rather precarious maneuver to make, for the Taciturn Voice, like other Ascendancy ships, was not equipped with a shuttle bay; docking would be required, and the security concerns involved in that must have been screaming inside the minds of the Heraldic guards. Contingency plans, one of the more grave concepts the Ascendancy fostered, had all been implemented in advance, but slowly the Taciturn Voice rolled in towards her objective. It was likely the first, last, and only time that the Flux went gambling, literally if not entirely metaphorically as well.
--oOo—
"Alright, from the top!" Damien called out, waving his arms like a conductor. The squadron of ships responded to his voice, which strangely enough rang clear and undistorted through outer space, reaching its intended hearers almost as soon as he spoke. Feathered boas, feathers gowns and feathered feathers in tow, the 'dancer' ships formed two parallel lines leading towards the casino's entrance.
"And a one...and a two...and a..." Damien motioned sharply and the ships burst into synchronized movement as orchestral music blared through the depths of outer space. Their motions were quick, energetic, but fluid. Their bounce caused their fluffy costumes to wave back and forth, both ranks instantly turning to an orderly and eye-catching commotion.
"Well done, ladies," Damien said, "now, I need all of you to scout around. Make sure there 's no space debris floating about. I want this place spotless by the time guests show up."
"Perhaps I can be of assistance?" Empress Hecate said, materializing beside Damien, "our contract states that our 'Patrons' shouldn't be doing all the work."
"Oh, yes, that's right," Damien said, "bu I can veto that. I am entertaining myself, and as such, that doesn't count as work."
"I insist," Empress Hecate said, raising one cloth-draped arm, "you've always been one of our most benevolent 'Patrons', always bending the rules to help us. Consider it a show of my appreciation."
"Very well," Damien said, waving the dancer ships out of the way.
The Monarch of the Arcana State swept a dainty hand across the vacuum in front of her. Her fingers curled and undulated like the tip of a paintbrush. A bright blue glow began to emanate from the Empress as she carved ethereal symbols into space. Whispering a single, reverberating word, Empress Hecate emitted a pulse of blue sparkles that swept outwards, devouring any unwanted debris within the immediate vicinity; the pulse ignored ships entirely.
Damien watched Empress Hecate closely and with no small measure of disappointment saw that Valeria was right: the Head of the Arcana State's abilities obeyed Physics in this place. Her spell drew power from her essence as opposed to exerting force with no energy source used. The pulse was affected by time and distance, where it normally would have been a conceptual 'thing' with no ties to reality at all. The debris it consumed didn't simply disappear, violating the law where energy wasn't destroyed but simply converted into a different form. Instead, they were converted into virtual particles, of matter and antimatter, that instantly annihilated. Furthermore, Empress Hecate knew it.
"Have you told the others?" Damien asked.
"They already knew," Empress Hecate's reply was unusually relaxed, "and I too know that they have it just as bad as I do in this place. We're all lacking the same."
"I suppose it's for the best that you three remain equals," Damien said.
"Indeed," Empress Hecate said, "how was that? Clean enough?"
"Spotless," Damien smiled. "Everything is set. Now, all we need are visitors..."
--oOo—
The point of no return was the opening of the Uller’s Boxes. The Flux so valued their secrecy that their ships physically could not force themselves out of their perpetual shadows; they were creatures of the night, things meant only to go bump in the dark, and even then the bumps were to be avoided if at all possible. The Uller’s Boxes were the only things that they could muster that would truly show they were there, and with no small trepidation at the Heraldic’s request Shipmaster Tullis nodded to the temporal overseer, and the boxes opened.
Instantaneously, everything changed. Objects not meant to be confined to three dimensional space were unsheathed, and in terms of perception reality wavered slightly. At five second intervals, the eldritch shapes were briefly revealed to the universe as things the mind could not stand seeing, and then rapidly the lids returned close. It was a most unnatural thing for a ship not meant to be seen to be illuminated by the lights of shapes that couldn’t be looked at, but paradoxically the beacons called out, declaring their presence with more confidence than any Flux ever could.
The Taciturn Voice swoops slowly towards the station, tilting her nose upwards gradually as she decelerates until she is sitting on her tale; her backswept gull wings pointing downwards and giving the ship a profile remarkably like an inverted anchor. There are no puffs of gas from thrusters; no brief bursts of light indicating energy emissions or anything of that vein. She simply changes course, moving like a fish in calm waters, until the tip of the bowfin is hesitating inches away from what can only be hoped is an available entrance.
Not like anyone else is vying for it, Tullis muses softly, the excitement of the hour strangely out of place for her amongst her companions. There is far more anxiety here now, much more fear than hope. It his simply how they think. Common Flux are not intended by the hierarchies that direct them to ever have to interact with races outside the Ascendancy, and for good reason: the universe is a cruel and hostile place, and conversation typically brings little but bloodshed when they attempt it. Yet here we are, Tullis thinks to herself as the ship trembles softly from the docking latches interlocking.
“Here goes nothing.” The temporal overseer jokes dryly.
--oOo—
Darrus checks her collar and then looks back at her four companions. This is a most unorthodox contact party, and she knows it; diplomatic work is to be done, as some races say, mano a mano; one on one, not with so many…companions. Three Heraldic guards are triple checking their suits; the temporal foresight they are used to being strangely ineffective beyond a certain distance from the station. This of course does not bode well with them, and it is with great reservation that they are not materializing weapons the moment the airlock begins cycling. She does not hold any particular disdain for the master of the guards, but she knows exactly what he’s thinking right now.
Her fourth companion shifts slightly in his boots as the outer door begins opening. The guards straighten, and even through their air tight suits she can sense the apprehension bleeding off of them, through those artificial tendrils of flesh that protrude from the sides of their armour in an effort to propagate the pheromones that render them so forgettable.
--oOo—
The disturbance outside the casino produced many puzzled looks, but not many answers.
"What was that?" The Monarchs query was met with the shrug of shoulders.
"It was beyond our current Manifestations' capacity to comprehend," Dante said, speaking for Damien and Valeria as well, "we'll need additional Expenditures for that, but you've already reached your daily limit set by the Locking Glyphs."
"Besides, it's gone now," Damien said.
"The disturbance may be," Valeria said quickly, "but something else just came up."
"You don't mean?"
"Company." No sooner did the word leave Valeria's mouth did the Monarchs materialize by the casino entrance.
Music greeted the newcomers after their docking procedures with as much vigor as the mechanized staff of the station; Emperor Vulcan ensured that the connection was as smooth as possible. The blinking of lights from a hundred slot machines, pricey chandeliers, and restaurant sections with live War Games footage from STABS-1 playing, was literally everywhere.
"We are honored to receive you," Empress Gaia started, courtesy with some difficulty in her vegetation-encrusted gown. One of her branches accidentally swiped a glass from an automaton dressed as a waiter, which immediately caught the glass by sprouting an extra appendage from its waistline.
"Pray tell," Emperor Vulcan said, "who might it be that we are about to serve?"
In the background, Damien nudged Dante.
"Yes, I can see it too," Dante whispered, "the air around them is becoming saturated by...something. Valeria, I need you to take a sample."
"No can do," Valeria said quietly, "such a question off the bat might alarm them. Let us wait until after the introductions are made. We can afford to. The Monarchs are 'Persons', yes, but they are also 'Ideas' at the same time. Chemicals don't usually affect ideas. No, Damien, don't bring up Empress Hecate's assets; they are the exception to the rule."
"Think they're the ones who got here before we did?" Damien asked Dante.
"I can't say at the moment," Dante's dark red eyes fell upon the group, "but what I do know is that they've got superb stealth technology. Even with the Locking Glyphs in play, hiding from the Monarchs within their own Territory is not an easy task. And yet we didn't see them coming until they were practically in our faces, and they chose to reveal themselves, to boot."
"Cause for alarm?" Damien's smile lacked its usual mirth.
"Cause for alertness. Who knows how many of them are outside the casino right now that we cannot sense?" Dante drank the rest of the coffee straight out of the kettle Damien and Valeria had been using. "If the sweet-talk from the Monarchs doesn't work, things might get ugly pretty quickly..."
|
|
|
Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 20:07:34 GMT
Of the five men and woman now being besieged by the sights and sounds of the casino’s interior, only Darrus had been bred for this moment. She was an odd one too, odder than the Heraldics as a whole, and it was reflected in that she had the most even response to the scene before her. It was though undeniably alarming, for the Ascendancy had up until recently held a total repulsion to the notion of interacting with other civilizations. This repulsion is then combined with fear; precisely, the fear of the unknown. Darrus does not understand how these entities work, and furthermore she only has the most limited and theoretical appreciation for their perspectives. Normally a Heraldic emissary will indoctrinate herself (or himself or itself as the specifics dictate) with the particulars of a civilization’s inner workings. They will learn the language, and the cultures, and the traditions, and with great patience and dedication try and mold themselves into the most familiar and understandable face the contactee will ever see.
Darrus had no such benefit here. So we take anxiety, and add fear; onto this we add stimuli. The band is roaring, and the dancers are dancing, and there is the clanking of the slot machines and the audio accompanying the visuals of the War Games, and it all blurs together in one mass of sensation. But the one thing that Darrus is master of above all things is the ability to hide what she is really feeling. She is a mask atop a mask atop bone, and she is deception in human form. So she smiles slightly, tilting her head at the right angle, and she extends her lithe hand gracefully to respond to their peculiarly garmented…hosts…
“I am called Darrus, and this is Dycha.” Darrus introduces them as she gestures to the trader. She is only slightly more confused than Dycha for the trader has spent a bit of time in the commercial institutions of other factions, but the stress of the encounter is present in all five of them regardless. The guardmaster had decided earlier that he would rather not be introduced, so that if conflict occurred they only have a one in three chance of taking out the tactical leader of the party. To a certain extent, Darrus intends to match this ambiguity; she introduces a section of her party as individuals, not as who they represent.
Beyond all of this, the Taciturn Voice is undocking; and silently she begins to fall away from the station, back into the dark.
The Monarchs nodded as the strangers spoke of themselves, but not of their faction. They didn't press the matter, respecting the privacy of their guests. In turn, they introduced themselves.
"I am Emperor Vulcan, the Sum Totality of SHEATHES-10's Machina State. I am every machine, every piece of software and invention I own. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"I am Empress Hecate, the Sum Totality of SHEATHES-10's Arcana State. I am every Spell, every Mythical Being and Magical Relic I own. So nice to meet you!"
"I am Empress Gaia, the Sum Totality pf SHEATHES-10's Natura State. I am every atmosphere, all lifeforms and every chemical I own. Thank for dropping by," the verdant Monarch paused for a second, "may I ask what the your pheromones are supposed to be doing? Being the Monarch of the Natura State, I am very...attuned to noticing such things, but since I do not own your pheromones, I do not have instant knowledge about them, and since I am an unconventional entity, I do not at the moment posses any real respiratory system, so I cannot find out the usual way."
"You'll have to forgive the random question," Emperor Vulcan said, "and believe me, all three of us will be asking a lot, whenever we get the chance. Our...programming, directive, purpose...whatever you'd like to call it, is geared specifically on making new discoveries. In other words, our Essences are Exploration Oriented."
"It's why we're here in the first place," Empress Hecate continued, "we had plans to establish an outpost for the sake of meeting new empires, as well as providing aid without bias to those in need. I say 'without bias' for we are bound to remain Neutral. Anyways, we are unable to create our Empire because certain...mechanics forbid its establishment in the immediate presence of foreigners. Basically, someone else is here, and we don't know where they are. We'd like to ask them for some leeway to set up shop, and if they refuse to leave, well, we'll have to go find some place else."
"Are you folks from around here? If not, do you know who might be?" Emperor Vulcan said.
"We can discuss that over food and drink if you wish. In fact, please hold your answers until after you partake of our hospitality. We'd prefer to entertain and serve you before you burden yourselves with business matters," Empress Gaia waved her hand and a host of waiters and waitress in the background opened the lids to over a dozen freshly-cooked dishes...
Dycha eyed the feast with interest, and glanced briefly at Darrus. She too had a certain hope for the meal, but there was something in her eyes that showed she disapproved of the notion. This was, oddly enough, on account of fairy tales, for in spite of their uncanny capacities the Ascendancy had utterly failed to accurately comprehend the supernatural, and not at all for lack of trying. But what they did know were the fables, and so they knew about silver bullets and holy water and the purported sacred nature of particular dates of the year; more importantly, Darrus was thinking about poison apples, or cursed banquets. For as harmless as the entites before them presented themselves as, Darrus and her party themselves were proof that harmlessness was not at all dictated by appearance.
“We appreciate your offer of hospitality,” Dycha replied hesitantly, “but it would be rude to indulge in this feast when our escorts are unable to. Perhaps at a later occasion.”
Darrus made the subtlest of nods of approval to her companion, of a scale which might have likely gone unnoticed by those who weren’t looking to see it. Dycha was confused by this rejection of hospitality, but Darrus was the closest thing to a specialist on the SHEATHES entities that the Ascendancy had; her education had been a strange one, and few truly believed she knew what she was doing here. But Darrus hesitates briefly at the inquiries, as she rapidly assembles a means of explanation. That they could detect the pheromones was an unsettling surprise, and she could only imagine the looks on the masked faces guarding them as they contemplated its ramifications as well.
“…we,” Darrus explained delicately, “have engineered ourselves in a way so to be rather forgettable. It is how we have managed to survive so long. Our ships are unseen, and we make ourselves rather…unrecallable for those rare occasions where necessity dictates our appearance.” It was an accurate though deceivingly benign answer that spoke nothing of the Ascendancy’s motivations or activities, but it answered the questions well enough.
"I see, then, it must be you who are currently have positions in this area," Valeria spoke up, "forgive my interruption. I am Patron Drei, and the two lugheads behind me are Patron Eins and Patron Zwei."
"The Monarchs can only create a colony if there are no foreign parties in the immediate vicinity," Dante said ignoring the insult, "the most they can manage is a Territory Broadcast, but not a Territory Claim. While you and your forces linger, they cannot set up shop."
"Of course, if you got here first, then we will not attempt to infringe," Damien spoke up, "just say the word, and we shall vacate the area immediately."
"Of course," Emperor Vulcan said, "if you do allow us to stick around, I believe we can be of great service to you."
"That is, when you want us to remember you," Empress Gaia said, "our memories are...just as unconventional pieces of information as we are unconventional entities. Only we can remove at will. But, since privacy is of the utmost importance to you..."
The Monarchs shifted their forms in unison. What were once 'Persons' dissolved into into wisps of energy. One fragment of each wisp floated away from its main part, whereupon the Monarchs returned to their 'Person' Manifestations.
"There," Empress Hecate declared, "these are our memories of the meeting so far. Our 'Patrons' will encase them in a Territory Bubble and leave them in your hands. Once you leave our Territory, those memories will be gone for good. That's all they are, however. They contain no traces of our Essence, Will or Authority, which means we cannot use them to spy on you."
"Once they reenter our Territory, we will remember you," Emperor Vulcan said, "so you may use them as a calling card, if you wish."
"We will repeat this process after our meetings conclude. Our 'Patrons' are bound by their Contract not to jeopardize such a transaction, so even while they remember, they will not inform us that such a meeting has ever occurred. In fact, they will be compelled to remove any evidences of such a meeting," Empress Hecate said.
"So, that solves the issue of your privacy remaining intact," Empress Gaia smiled, "now, how will you solve the issue of your hidden presence here preventing us from establishing a colony? Will you permit us to make a home in this particular spot? Or will we have to seek a different place in the galaxy?"
"Either way," Emperor Vulcan said, "our agenda remains the same. Explore and discover. Of course, our directive is somewhat compromised with you. We Monarchs cannot help but seek out your details. However, such a dilemma is solved by simply entrusting you with the details we discover as memories. That way, we can keep to our purpose, and you can keep your secrecy."
Darrus hesitates. She is of course not authorized to allow anyone to stake a claim to this galaxy, for theirs is a galaxy under invasion. The outsiders, the conquistadors and empire builders, all are from beyond this galaxy; it was comparably tranquil before they began to appear. Here before them, at the base of it all, is another invader; whether or not it claimed to be benign was a technicality which held no interest to the official canon of the Ascendancy. It was an awkward pause of unspoken fears; fear of the unknown, fear of the nature of reality, fear of descending down to the same level as the invaders simply by deeming them worthy of direct conversation. For at the base of it, the Ascendancy’s motivations were all dictated by one primal emotion: fear.
So Darrus hesitates, then responds delicately, as if every word is in fact a footstep in a minefield.
“The influences I represent have not given me directions towards how to go about securing a home for you in our domain, though I shall certainly convey your request to them.” She answers smoothly, the fear behind all words well masked behind the façade of diplomacy, the façade of civility, the façade of normalcy. “We do certainly look forward eagerly to the assistance you offer us, if it can be offered at all.” She steeples her fingers for a moment, tense in the instant’s presence and power, before glancing back at the guards.
“I travel under escort because my people are threatened by an enemy much like ourselves. They play the same games we do, really; we are both masters of deceit, and we both share a common revulsion to the existence of the other. Both have whispered in the ears of others, and both I and they cannot comprehend mercy being offered by either party. They are preparing to destroy us with weapons…” she hesitates again, much to the emperors’ and empresses’ fascination, before one of the guards finally issues a word, warped and mechanized rather sadistically.
“Capabilities.” The guard suggests, and Darrus continues with it. “…capabilities beyond our comprehension.”
The Monarchs gave each other a quick glance. It was brief enough to escape the perception of those not paying any real attention to them at the moment, 'those' being Dante and Valeria, 'Patrons' who were more interested in the mention of conflict. Granted, they were interested for two entirely different reasons; Dante for entertainment, and Valeria for the sake of learning how to put an end to it and usher an era of peace. However, for Damien, who was observing the Monarchs, their glance was just long enough for him to see the mixed emotions in their eyes:
Compassion. Empathy. Disappointment.
Unlike a Conquest-Oriented SHEATHES, they were created to operate on more amicable terms. But they were also created to be a Neutral Faction. As much as they wanted to, they couldn't simply form an alliance whenever they wished.
That didn't mean they were powerless to help.
"We see, and we understand your position," Empress Gaia said, "and no, we do not wish to press the matter any further. If you feel that the presence of another Empire here is a threat to your way of life, we will not make an attempt to create further tensions."
"However, our very Essence compels us to explore, and having switched to Benevolent Neutrality Stance, we are also compelled to...recompense those who...humor our way of life." Emperor Vulcan continued slowly.
"Hear our proposal, then," Empress Gaia continued, "we shall not set up a presence in your Galaxy. Instead, we shall create an Embassy of sorts at its very borders; neither within, but neither without. This Embassy will contain no more than 75 Subjects of each Type, that is Troops, Vessels, and Constructs. It will only be the size of a Nebula. From this Embassy, we shall send forth our explorers and hospital ships with your permission. You will know all our whereabouts at all times, and you will have full prerogative to decide which Subjects may and may not enter your Galaxy. We only ask that you permit us to visit and learn about any faction we wish to, provided they allow it. We fully realize that intimacy between empires may not come easily, but we assure you that you have nothing to lose by allowing us to know more about other factions, maybe even your own. If you feel that we've learned too much, simply ask for that memory, and we will destroy it."
"Like my colleague said," Empress Hecate's voice was full of eagerness, "you have nothing to lose..."
Several Glyphs materialized around her. One of them bore the image of what looked like a rising bird. Dante immediately recognized it as a Phoenix Glyph.
"...but you have many things to gain. We show gratitude to those who allow us to explore them, be concerning their culture, their territory, or their might. Believe us when we say that we are never stingy when it comes to thank-you's."
Darrus recognized the Pheonix Sigil immediately, but did her best to mask the recognition. She had followed the Immortal Empire’s research into the arcane and supernatural quite ardently, though proper and full comprehension of how to utilize those particular articles of trivia had always eluded her. This was evidently the SHEATHES entities’ primary modus operandi; the distribution of party favours, or so she suspected at least. Never mind that the party favours brought the dead back to life, but that was neither here nor there, nor anywhere really. The supernatural was suspect, but then again so were all things; the Ascendancy’s perpetual paranoia existed without exception here, but for one like Darrus it manifested itself during her youth as mockery. For a moment, she found herself recalling the days her strange and unnatural study was lambasted by the children surrounding her.
As a matter of pragmatics though, the situation was more palatable; she could report back to the Ascendancy that they were not facing another invader, and furthermore retained the potential assistance they could offer. So Darrus summoned a pleasant response to the offer.
“I suspect such a generous accommodation will surprise my interests quite pleasantly, but-” Darrus said with an apologetic grin, before abruptly she was interrupted by the fairly silent trader.
“We are familiar with your tendencies in this field. These are fairly standard offers for a decidedly non-standard situation.” Dycha spoke with a clipped, cunning tone, surprising Darrus with its aggressive manner. She had little experience with the trader, but he spoke with a distinct calculation; even if he did not recognize the sigils he did know how the SHEATHES entities traded, and this was in his eyes a field of some expertise. “Our culture is facing the threat of extinction from multiple parties. Simply arming us with handfuls of these very interesting parlour tricks will merely delay the matter. Whatever the enemy is preparing to use against us is of such a scale that the tricks WE have are evidently insufficient…and surely your curiosity has led to certain conclusions about things on that scale.” And then abruptly Dycha falls silent, and Darrus after a pause picks up where he left off.
“This is not to say I do not respect your offer, but that the severity of this situation does not seem fully communicated to you. We are facing the rapidly approaching collapse of our way of life, of our civilization, and potentially our very existence. We have carefully weighed risks and probabilities pertaining to this moment ever since you arrived in this place, and it is only now that the situation is so critical that we find the calling to stand in the open and discuss the matter with you. If you are proposing we have nothing to lose, I fear we have not made ourselves clear in the least.”
"Please don't misunderstand," Emperor Vulcan said, "we would like to contribute more than a few parlor tricks. We would like to lend you aid on a larger and more potent scale than we can manage at the moment. We would, we really would. However, while conventional entities demonstrate an ability to choose, we Monarchs cannot rebel against our Essences. The very stuff that makes us up is absolute, and it does not permit us to meddle with the affairs of others."
"As you can imagine, this does conflict with our other 'ingredients'. We must remain Neutral, but at the same time we must help. It is a paradox solved only by limiting the amount of help we can provide," Empress Hecate said somberly, "if we Monarchs were to cross a certain line, we ourselves risk extinction."
Dante stifled a smile at that last word, recalling what happened to the former SHEATHES-10. Damien gave him a glance as if to say, 'watch it', and then raised his voice.
"Every trick has a counter-trick, and the Monarchs have loads of them up their sleeves hidden within their sleeves hidden within their sleeves," Damien said, "perhaps you can describe what ail you? I'm sure the Monarchs can make accommodations for it."
"Please consider our situations," Empress Gaia sighed, "we cannot use our assets for offense, only for defense. We can provide them to you, but our Life's Purpose must first be fulfilled. You require an edge over your foes in order to survive. We require the green light to explore this galaxy in order for our Manifestations here to survive. We cannot establish a presence or explore unless you allow it. Therefore, the decision is yours: allow us to sightsee, and then we shall see how much wiggle-room there is for us to aid you."
"You need to know, though, that because we are Benevolent Neutral, we cannot refuse aid to anyone. If they cooperate with us, we are required to aid them too," Empress Hecate said quietly. "Bias is something we do not possess in our Essence."
Behind all of them, the guardmaster listened intently. He appreciated the logic for equally arming all parties who approached them, but for different reasons: when parity was present, that is to say when a balance of power existed, war (or the imminence thereof) would be the predominant overtone to all things. In his eyes, which lacked the benign bias of the SHEATHES entities (scratch that, he corrected himself as he checked his trust, purported benign bias), the entities were creating cold wars all around them.
He of course said nothing of the sort as the dialogue continued. He was not there to speak. He was not there so much for a diplomatic function at all. He was unknown to either Darrus or Dycha there for the Heraldic Guard’s own motives: security. This seems of course fairly stupid to presume that his function there was secret, and this is true: his purpose was known, as he was a guard, and his purpose was security. But how this was to be accomplished was unknown to the diplomats. He was the failsafe.
Dycha and Darrus moved to speak at once though once the entities had explained their restricted position. Dycha spoke first, carefully assessing and responding accordingly.
“We don’t know precisely what is being prepared for us, but based on our intelligence,” Dycha states carefully, avoiding outright saying anything that might suggest the core capability that made the Ascendancy so remarkable, “at least one of our enemies, likely at the behest of another, are preparing a wide scale strike based on non-conventional principles—“
“--It’s a blood based variety, I think.” Darrus intruded on Dycha’s statement, and unlike the trader spoke with a strangely graceful, unsettlingly succinct and deceivingly honest manner quite unlike the others. “Agents of the enemy carried away members of our race, and I can only presume it was for that purpose. Something corruptive I suspect, infectious potentially, almost certainly on a chaos oriented axis.” She spoke the words partially revealing a strange aptitude for the craft she was discussing; strange in that she knew it at all, while stranger still in how little she could practice her knowledge. Dycha began to almost leer at her for expressing her knowledge of such things, but restrained himself as he was slowly coming to terms with its plausibility.
She hesitated for a moment at the look, before fixing her eyes back on the Patrons. Her instincts told her that despite the official titles, they were more…earnest perhaps. Something was more pliable in them, and while channeled through civility, the sociopathic breeding of the Heraldics almost brought that towards her like the smell of braised meat. She wavered in silence for a moment, assessing the two while realizing that every instinct she felt could be entirely erroneous when the things she was negotiating with lacked true flesh and blood.
“I have spent the entirety of my life attempting to understand you, and things like you.” She speaks the words quietly, almost whispering them as she tacitly hints at the first of the Flux’s paradoxs; the SHEATHES entities appear only within the last five years at most, and she appears to be into her mid twenties.
“I think we can help each other greatly if we’re both willing to step outside of our comfort zones here. We have the most intimate, detailed, comprehensive diagrams of this galaxy that we believe anyone will ever create. I can regale you about races that from our perspective have not existed in this galaxy for tens of millions of years, and we can show you where the dead are buried from wars that haven’t ever had chance to begin—“
“I believe you should curb your enthusiasm, emissary.” The guard growls electronically, and Darrus acquices silently. In an effort to fill the void, and to bury what Darrus had just begun to reveal, Dycha attempts to recover from Darrus’ unprovoked earnesty.
“Darrus is, of course, correct in some of that: we can certainly offer information in exchange for such capabilities as they would be invaluable to our salvation from the adversaries who now menace us. But we need more than parlour tricks, undeniably more than parlour tricks, if we are to need anything.”
The Monarchs were murmuring amongst themselves at their guest's request.
"Blood-based variety? A disease, then?" Emperor Vulcan opened.
"Quantumphage Assets are denied," Empress Gaia said, "I do have access to my Polymorphic Element Genetics; that would allow them to perma-scramble their genetic code, rendering it continuously incompatible to any form of virus."
"But what is it's not a virus?" Empress Hecate said, "these people are well-verse when it comes to biology and bioengineering; their anti-memory pheromones are testament to that. Perhaps it's worse? Something magical in nature and style."
"Magical or not, it shouldn't be anything my Teleportation Sieves can't take care of," Emperor Vulcan huffed, "it doesn't matter how well the disease has bonded with their flesh, those devices will only transport their Target, leaving any substances or pathogens behind."
"Ah, your Teleportation Sieves," Empress Hecate smiled, "those things you ripped off from my Fleshcaller Spells."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," the Red Monarch said, rolling his eyes.
"That's wall well and good," Empress Gaia said, "but as absolute as those devices are, they only work on single individuals. The Locking Glyphs allow us a maximum of 225 Subjects altogether. We cannot distribute them across an entire nation; this is a widespread attack, mind you, and we cannot employ Fusion States here."
"Perhaps we can be of assistance," Damien said, "we could modify an 'Infinitus Cadavera' Protocol to contain a vaccine instead of a zombifying agent."
The Monarchs paused at that. 'Patron' Expenses were hard to come by in this Galaxy, and they weren't sure if investing that much into their guests would be a wise decision.
"Well, they did ask us to step out of our comfort zones," Empress Hecate shrugged, "and it certainly wouldn't violate our Neutrality Policy to use a Protocol in return for the wealth of knowledge they promised us."
"Then it's settled," Empress Gaia said, "if, and only if, it is a disease they were referring to."
Emperor Vulcan turned to them with a quizzical look, "well? is it?"
It was an oddly confusing moment for the representatives of the Ascendancy. Progress had certainly been made, but only after Darrus had begun to speak of things well beyond the scope of what the others felt was acceptable to disclose to beings over whom the Flux fielded such minimal weight. Darrus considered her family in arms for a moment, before delicately speaking.
“What our enemies are preparing for us will be something we cannot understand. I am the most well versed soul my civilization has created in terms of understanding the arts involved, and I am blind I think. As I said, what is being prepared is likely on the chaotic axis, and is an art that requires either some variety of blood sacrifice or blood for a materiel sample. But I believe DNA may come to play in it, as the enemy took efforts to bypass the genetic securities on our Heraldics.” She shuddered slightly at the thought of what the enemy would eventually do to the people Shaw had carried off with him. “Our civilization is comprised-“
“Darrus, you speak too much.” The guard warned formidably, and Darrus fell silent again, torn between her interest in not only explaining what few specifics her people knew of what was coming for them but also in practicing the description of the arcane and esoteric fields involved. She had no tutors in these arts, but only the books of other civilizations. It was like learning a remote and exotic language and having no opportunity to consult a native speaker on the matter.
“If I may be so bold as to propose an alternative, my people need a patron of their own.” She stated it quickly, then fell silent again to see how the words set with her own race. Patron here was lower cased as it were, and not necessarily equal to the term’s value in the eyes of the SHEATHES entities. “I have been authorized to represent my people to you should this initial exchange prove to be hopeful. With the blessings of those I serve,” she says dutifully as she glances back at the harsh faces of the guards and the disgruntled dissatisfied face of the trader, “I can begin to tell you of the true history of these places. Without proper interpretation, you will not understand the how or why for many of the stranger corners of these stars.”
Again she falls silent, and glances back. She is uncertain, having just volunteered herself to walk with spirits, having just volunteered herself away from the blessed path expected of her by those she travels with. Desperation. It explains all things.
“But my people will need someone to protect them from what is coming. You said your arts restrict what can and cannot be done by yourselves. I would wonder if you could create an entity who’s…” she pauses, dragging out the right words from her mind, “who’s Life Purpose would be more amicable to promoting my people’s survival than your own allows?” It was a far fetched hope, but based on her crude understanding of how the laws of the arcane functioned, it seemed feasible to some degree.
"We can and we cannot," Emperor Vulcan said after a split-second glance at his colleagues that he used to mentally discuss things with them. "We cannot provide anything of the scale you speak off in this Galaxy due to a bunch of other complications. All we can give are parlor tricks."
Empress Hecate's mask quivered in anticipation.
"But, perhaps parlor tricks are all you will need."
The Three Monarchs held out their hands in front of them and Manifested three objects in a flash of red, blue and green.
"In exchange for the invaluable Exploration information you will provide us, thereby allowing us to fulfill our Essence's Purpose, we, the Monarchs of SHEATHES-10 do show our gratitude in the form of Goodwill Gifts," Empress Gaia announced.
Empress Hecate unveiled a roll of parchment; translucent paper laced with elegant, glowing words.
"This here is an Enchantment Scroll," Empress Hecate said, "more specifically, it bears instruction on how to enchant a Target of your choosing with the 'Immateria Dominatorae' Spell, allowing said Target to interact with the incorporeal as if it were corporeal. Ghosts may be struck with ordinary weapons as if they were flesh and bone, and even abstract concepts like fatigue and death can be held and wrestled with. This is a Spell that is unique to us; it will not be found anywhere else, unless it has been imitated. Anyone can learn it, and anyone can perform it if they have the energy to do so."
From Emperor Vulcan, a single bolt of red lightning that simply floated in place above his open palm.
"This is an Ira Bolt," he nodded, "it won't last long, probably a few days in this Galaxy, but until the laws of this universe delete it this Ira Bolt will be an infinite source of energy for you to use at your discretion. Right now, its simply energy in a raw and pure form, but it can be converted into any kind of energy you want."
A puff of what appeared to be smoke drifted lazily in Empress Gaia's grasp.
"This is a Natura Pathogen I use to regulate the flesh of my larger Subjects," she said with a smile, "its genetic material is made of a secret compound, made from elements of my own design from the quantum particles of this universe. This Natura Pathogen won't be as potent as my Quantumphages, but they will fulfill their purpose of acting as a DNA pruner. What it does is attack abnormal cells, 'mutating' them into normal cell."
"This is where we come in," Damien said, "by giving you three Goodwill Gifts instead of one, the Monarchs have reached the extent of the help they may give to you. Any more aid and they will break their Neutrality Policy. I myself am bound under certain restrictions, therefore I can't instruct you to do certain things. I am, however, allowed to mislead you by giving you false information."
Dante rolled his eyes at the notion of his cousin exploiting loopholes.
"Therefore, it would be in your best of interests not to use those Goodwill Gifts in tandem with each other," Damien continued, "It would be in your best of interests not to teach the Immateria Dominatorae Spell to every member of your race, allowing them to cast it on themselves and on their technology; it would be a crying shame if you enchanted your stealth gear to hide you from your enemies' arcanery. It would be in your best of interests not to convert as much of that Ira Bolt into fuel for each cast of the Immateria Dominatorae Spell, since usage of said Spell will drain your body of calorific energy, which must be replenished immediately. I would also advise you not to cast the Immateria Dominatorae Spell onto the DNA Pruner Pathogen, which would allow that disease to 'infect' and 'kill' any Magical Effects that would take hold in your bodies, while at the same time repairing any damage already done to genetic integrity."
"We cannot make any attempt save you," Empress Hecate said shrewdly, "that would violate our Neutrality Policy since it counts as meddling in your affairs, and in the affairs of others."
"That doesn't mean we can't give you the ability to save yourselves," Emperor Vulcan grinned.
"It's your move," Empress Gaia said with a shrug, "Will you trust us enough to employ our humble gifts? More importantly, will you trust in your own cleverness to make use of what little we can give, and make them do great and wonderful things?"
There was short, not particularly suspenseful pause now; though to call it a silent thing would be inaccurate more or less. The guards were talking amongst themselves via the esoteric channels of quantum entanglement; the most minute essence of the universe, spread far in distance to the point of imperceptibility, wavered slightly out of beat with their neighbors.
They were listening quite intently as the SHEATHES entities pitched their counter proposal. It is important to consider that the Heraldic Guards are not diplomats; they are not at all trained in the fine arts of subtlety or discourse the same way the emissaries are. They are trained in specifics, in measurements of force and energy, in calculations of probability and the art of delivering proper wounds all the while avoiding such injuries of their own.
But they liked what they heard.
--These capacities sound suitable to the task, potentially.—One of the guards suggested to the guardmaster, adding the last word as a caveat in case there was a disagreement amongst them. There was no physical sign of the dialogue, but it happened silently in the background as Damien began to speak.
--To claim prohibition to further assistance by reason of meddling in our affairs when they are arming our adversaries seems illogical.—The guardmaster replied warily, though with every further word from Damien he found himself more and more comfortable with the proposal.
--Inversely, we are approaching a point where our survival ties closely into the decision we make here today. We will not be able to make much progress without outside assistance in these fields.—
--But it could be their own parlour tricks in the hands of our enemies that ultimately undo us.—
--We adapt then.--
At the close of the SHEATHES entities’ proposal, Darrus hesitated. It was incredibly ironic here that at the culmination of their negotiations, the first shades of doubt began to permeate her outlook on the situation. The problem with defending themselves with magical instruments is that, based on her understanding, the SHEATHES entities would be able to know where they were being carried as they were an extension of the entities themselves, and if the SHEATHES could track them than it was not incomprehensible that whatever was preparing to attack them too could do the same. She (and the people she represented) immensely preferred the notion of a localized solution, of a single agent who could proficiently deter supernatural assault. Yet at the same time by simple matter of indoctrination and breeding, there was nothing more that Darrus wanted than to represent her people to these strange spirits.
Darrus began to speak, before an electronic grunt erupted from one of the guards.
“This one has an excellent sense of humour,” the guard grumbled digitally as he regarded Damien, and his armoured helmet began to unpeel. The interlocking plates descended and rose depending on their place, though it was a slow and decidedly mechanical movement. First the cheeks were exposed, revealing pallid pale flesh that rarely if ever saw the light of day…
…and the more the helmet opened, the stranger the scene became.
The guard’s eyes were what had caused all the changes, mostly anyway. They were long, wide slits like open wounds (though far too symmetrical to have been injuries) that extended from well below the crest of the cheekbone up towards where the eyes were meant to belong, before continuing back along the temples towards the ears. The majority of the face was eyes. As the helmet opened, flaps of skin extended minutely but noticeably, pulled taught by muscles nonexistent on the emissary or the trader as he shielded the casino’s bright lights from his sensitive eyes, his pale bare head almost gleaming in the flickering neon glow. Umbilicals wound their way out of the remaining base of the helmet into the nose and mouth, or what had once been a mouth, and rocked back and forth minutely as the helmet’s motion came to an end.
“We have never been able to replicate capacities of this…” the guard hesitates, before his electronic gravel resumes crunching away, “…genre. Darrus believes this is due to our…complicated nature. As this is the best you can offer,” the guard continued sincerely, unaware of the potential social insult in his word choice, “and as you believe it will be suitable for our defense, it is only fair we accept such a sincere proposal. Will you be able to assist us in implementing them if we provide specific instructions on what we…” the guard looks towards Damien, and his face contorts into something that to him anyway means the same thing as a curious smile, “…don’t want to do?”
With the guards signing off on the deal, Darrus realized at that moment that she would not likely see home again. Assigned to the SHEATHES entities as their emissary, she would spend the remainder of her lifetime in their presence, tasked with advocating for the choices that would best protect the Ascendancy. She was more excited by this than torn by the thought of never returning; for the nobility of service had been bred into her, and this was a most noble calling.
Damien and Valeria could practically feel wave of curiosity emanating from Empress Gaia. She knew awesome genetic material and biology when she saw it, and the creature in front of her was a great example. She held her tongue, however, and considered the words of their guests as her colleagues did.
"We will make as many accommodations as we can," Empress Hecate nodded. "'Patrons', if you please."
Dante snapped his fingers and a thin membrane of whitish energy enveloped the Monarchs gifts.
"Territory Bubble complete," he droned.
A curious thing happened to the Scroll, the bolt and the pathogens. Where once they glowed with blue, red and green hues, now they had turned into a bright orange.
"Our Assets don't exist outside our Territories," Empress Gaia explained, "and neither do we. Territory Bubbles prevent our gifts from disappearing once they leave our kingdoms, but our 'Patrons' will only encase them in one if we 'detach' them from ourselves. Hence the color change."
"These Subjects are no longer 100% 'ours'," Empress Hecate said, "we may not command or manipulate them anymore, neither can we perceive them or what they in turn perceive. They are yours now, and they will serve you as faithfully as if you were their Monarchs. That means they won't betray you, not even to us. Granted, they won't betray us either, but they're not our servants anymore."
"Our Authorities still apply," Emperor Vulcan said, "so reverse-engineering them will only benefit us more than it will benefit you, if we permit such a thing to happen."
"Other than that, we're all ears," Empress Gaia said, "and we will endeavor to meet your suggestions to the farthest extent that we are allowed to."
Dante had moved away from the group by now, seeing as their discussions were almost at a close. He plopped himself on a puffy sofa, its textiles woven from fine furs and soften leather. A large cup of pitch-black coffee materialized in his palm as he gazed up at the large screen in front of him. The Monarch's War Games in STABS-1 were nothing compared to their bouts in the Yggdrasil Galactic Triumvirate, and yet the thrill of violence filled him with the same ice-cold contentment regardless.
"Let the games begin," he murmured to himself, as the Monarchs made their offer to cooperate.
|
|
|
Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 20:09:54 GMT
Decisions were settled with a game of rock-paper-scissors way more often than they should be around the Monarchs. They made the mistake of letting their 'Patrons' choose one from a few locations they'd picked to set up an embassy. Naturally, Damien picked a spot at the the rim of the galaxy, but Dante chose a position closer to the center; in effect, Damien went for the edge of the galactic disc, and Dante chose a spot hovering 'above' the disc. Valeria was content to simply watch Darrus at work.
Speaking of whom...
"Unacceptable! Redo the whole thing!" Empress Gaia ordered sharply, swatting one of her Subjects with a vine that lashed out from her gown. "Those colors clash with the tapestry. Try an Autumn theme instead of Spring."
"Ah, good, the Doppelganger Mirrors have arrived," Empress Hecate cooed as several fairies wheezed and moaned underneath a large oval mirror. One of them had already been squashed, its splattered body dissolving back into a figment of their Monarch's Essence. "Take them to our guest at once. They should provide tangible illusions of herself that will help her with her research."
Emperor Vulcan, on the other hand, was busy monitoring the life support panels that controlled their guests' part of the Vessel. He made sure the correct number of photons were leaving each lightbulb, the correct amount of gases existed in the room, and that the temperature didn't lower or raise one micro-kelvin above that which was required.
"Rock beats paper," Dante smiled at a frowning Damien.
"Best five out of nine," Damien demanded.
"I refuse. I won fair and square, and now I get my way."
"But I won the first round! Then you made it two-out-three, then three out of five, then four out of seven! I should be-!"
"Accept the consequences of your failure," Dante said, nose in the air, grin on his face. "Monarchs, set a course for Destination 47."
"As you wish," Emperor Vulcan said, eyes never leaving his holographic console.
--oOo—
“—furthermore, I advise consideration that collected information may be provided to Alice Maydic of the Immortal Empire, with proper security omissions pertaining to its point of origin taken into consideration.” Darrus spoke briskly into the tiny communications disk, which she had rapidly been relaying her first few day’s notes into. “Cooperation, knowingly or not, between the two of us may greatly enhance our understandings of the paranormal forces-“
The door chime rang, and Darrus froze for an instant before pausing the recording and rising from her cross legged position on the floor, slipping the disc smoothly into her wide sleeve and glancing inquisitively toward the door. One of the strangest and most unsettling things for her so far was how she never knew quite what would be on the other side of any given door or wall; there was no certainty to speak of here. She could be greeted by a mobile plant inviting her to tea, or a pile of sentient rocks summoning her to answer a question which had occurred to one of the Patrons regarding some particular problem, like what cheese was most acceptable on what cracker, or the history of a particular part of the galaxy. So far, she had managed to hide the Ascendancy’s name even from them, though in fairness they had been polite enough not to pry into the matter. They were incredibly polite, and incredibly curious, though she did not entirely feel at home as yet. She had begun eating the food with conscious disregard for her safety, but with each bite she considered poisoned apples. It was a strange duality of wonder and fear on her part, of which only the wonder was matched by the SHEATHES entities she was assigned to.
“Please, come in,” Darrus answered, and the door to her quarters opened smoothly. On its opposite side sat a large oval mirror supported by somewhere near two dozen tiny bipedal winged creatures, who began strenuously attempting to traverse what must to them have been far too long of a distance for their comfort. First she paused, as she found she tended to when confronted with something strange and out of the ordinary—she paused far too often, too—before moving cautiously over towards them and carefully reaching out to the mirror, grabbing its edges and moving it far easier than the tiny porters could have managed. Really, she should have been documenting their forms, but after a week of frantically noting everything she began to realize that so much was out of the ordinary that to rush into it would only leave her tired sooner; she had an entire lifetime, and she could take it as it came.
"Greeting, milady," one of the sprites started, "that you have is what's called a Doppelganger Mirror. It will, upon your command, create a tangible illusion of you that shall do your bidding. Empress Hecate has become concerned that you are tiring yourself out, and decided that personal assistants will help."
The rest of the fairies bowed and exited the room.
"Your doppelgangers are not 'part' of the Monarchs," the fairy continued, "but they will be a part of you. Everything they know, you'll know. Everything they experience, you can experience. I say 'can' because you will have to permit their experiences to affect you. This means if one of them gets hurt, you can prevent a sharing of damages. If one of them eats, you can gain sustenance without having to actually spend time eating. All in all, we wish you continued luck with your activities."
And with that, the sprite disappeared as well.
Elsewhere on the ship, Emperor Vulcan had just finished requesting that Dante go ahead of the group and broadcast SHEATHES-10 Territory at their destination. That way, he would be able to open a Portal directly to their desired location and cut down on the journey somewhat. He and the Empresses had initially chosen to take the scenic route, but Valeria had brought up some new concerns.
"Perhaps we don't want our presence known before we've established a base," she had said.
The plan was simple, once they got to the embassy site. The ship, which was formerly the casino they used to entertain their now-forgotten guests, would be remade again into a station complex of sorts. From there, they would set up Territorial defenses -- mostly evasion, protection and evasion type assets -- as well as escape routes that could be used in the blink of an eye.
Hopefully they would never have to use those...
"When two people quarrel, the third one gains," Valeria announced over Dante and Damien's bickering. "Both of you can give it a rest; I will decide the design of our embassy."
"But-!"
"Dante, your design is too aggressive," Valeria cut him off, "And Damien, yours too passive. We are to command respect here, but we are to do so without a show of military might."
"I-!"
"Your design calls for exactly twenty-eight quintillion Inhaling-Rift Cannons to encrust the embassy. We have neither the expenses or space to accommodate such a thing in this galaxy. Not to mention it doesn't exactly send the right message."
"They don't have to be operational," Dante grumbled.
"The answer is still no," Valeria said, turning to Damien afterward, "And you: we need an embassy, not a hotel resort."
Damien held his tongue, but his slight pout clearly indicated that the embassy's lack of an internal water park was not something he was looking forward to.
"I agree that we need a great deal of protection," Valeria said, "and that we need to make our peaceful intentions clears. But you two take it too far. I will be installing several Scapegoat Generators for defenses; there will be nothing that can open fire upon hostile forces on the embassy. Instead of a hotel resort, we will set up a lounge where meetings can be held. We cannot host STABS-2 War Games here due to us being unable to create a Galactic Colony here. We can, however, show War Games from the STABS-1 Galactic Colony via a theater of sorts. Foreign factions will have the opportunity to win prizes by choose a Banner, all while being served refreshments and whatbnot."
It was a compromise, but those would do; Dante and Damien were pacified for the moment. Next would be discussions concerning the 'space' just outside the embassy...
As their 'Patrons' finalized their embassy preparations, the Monarchs decided it was time to pay their guest a personal visit.
All three Monarchs materialized outside Darrus' door. They each knocked on it once, not in unison, but in sync after each other. It was a trait they shared from the very beginning, and it was a trait that hinted at their Essences. They were 'one', but also 'separate', but also 'collaborating'. One moment, they might be finishing each others' thoughts, the next they might be tearing each other to shreds in War Games, and right after they might be sitting a table for tea, as if they were acquaintances, but neither friend nor foe.
"Pardon the intrusion," Emperor Vulcan began.
"We were wondering if we could have a word with you," Empress Gaia called.
She had just opened the door no more than halfway when the entities materialized instantly before her, and her pupils widened briefly in the surprise and alarm of such an occurrence. The SHEATHES entities waited patiently for the shortest of moments as shock was rapidly reacclimatized to reality, and in the blink of an eye it was gone. She was yet to become accustomed to the strangeness of this brave new world, but in a blink of an eye she opened the door the remainder of the way and greeted her guest as if being visited by such creatures (if creature was the word, and Darrus might have taken exception here in her pursuit of accuracy) was entirely the norm.
“Good morning to you to.” Darrus replied as she watched ephemeral fibers of energy weave their way through the translucent forms opposite her. “Am I needed?”
"Oh, this is just a check up to see how you're doing," Empress Gaia said, "we've made sure your room has an Inverted Territory Bubble, which is a patch of space within our Territory that we do not own. As such, we cannot simply know what's going on in there without you telling us."
"Common courtesy, I believe," Emperor Vulcan nodded.
"Have you discovered what you needed to discover, my dear?" Empress Hecate asked, getting straight to the point.
Within Darrus’ mind, bewilderment billowed. Had she discovered what she needed? Oh yes, of course it was totally reasonable to understand non-scientific, non-logical methods of inducing paranormal occurences within a few weeks of exposure. Totally reasonable. Then again, how would a bird understand the difficulty for less natural aviators to fly?
“I’m making progress,” she answered diplomatically, looking back into her quarters. Papers were scattered all over the floor in a seemingly unorganized manner that would have produced disdain from the eyes of a Heraldic. It reflected in a sense her present theory towards what she was trying to understand; that perhaps it did not so much follow concrete laws as it was the result of different ideas mixing, more akin to chemistry than mathematics. Of course, she added to herself, abruptly engrossed in her own notion, chemistry is generally fairly predictable at a basic level at least, given the methodical nature of chemical…
…she realized that the entities were still patiently standing there, likely also perusing the dozens of sheets of paper spread over the room, and bowed her head in apology for her distractibility. “Yes, I’m making progress,” she repeated, glancing over the room and the sheet covering the mirror. “At present I’m attempting to assemble an overarching theory for the laws directing spell creation, but it is rather…intricate.” She makes a strange sort of frown at the end of it. She feels, quite frankly, utterly foolish attempting to trigger even the simplest of reaction. “So far what I’ve seen shows a minimal reliance, if a reliance at all exists, on physical components for spell implementation, but that doesn’t make sense as Chaw’Haust clearly seems to have abducted…” she fades out for a moment, cognizant of the obscurity of that name to the entities, before resuming regardless, “…seems to have abducted members of our race to fulfill some sort of physical requirement.” She was tempted to go on longer about how at present she was experimenting with no obvious progress on symbol-triggered incantations, or how she hoped that perhaps some combination of actions—perhaps posture combined with spoken word and then augmented by symbols—would finally give some indication that she was at least touching the waters she attempted to traverse.
"Magic differs from realm to realm, my dear guest," Empress Hecate began. "Often, what is considered Magic in one is a Science in another. Furthermore, not all realms are suitable for Magic; some have laws in place that require anything even remotely resembling Magic to be bound to Physical and Logical laws. I believe that may be the type of Magic that is being used against you. My Magic, despite it not really being Magic, has conformed to the general consensus of what Magic is in this place, which is why it too is bound by the Logic of this realm, despite it being used to circumvent normal Physics. However, we need to get one thing clear: while Magic here doesn't rely on physical components to 'exist', it does need a way to 'anchor' itself to this reality. Hence, all the rituals, ingredients and ceremonies associated with it."
Empress Hecate sighed as her colleagues vanished, happy to hear that their guest was alright, but not interested in another lesson on the arcane; they've had plenty of that during War Game Sessions.
"Chaw'Hust's Magic and mines may be worlds apart, or they may be similar," Empress Hecate continued, "but one thing is for certain: in this realm, Magic has limits. One cannot simply make a wish and wipe out an entire universe at a whim. Believe me, if that were the case, my Genies would have won me every War Game Session against my colleagues in the past century. The limits of my Magic are bound to more classical themes: my Sphnixes are invulnerable to harm, and will always prevent outsiders from passing through an area they guard, but they are bound to ask an intruder a riddle, and if said intruder answers correctly, my Sphinxes must kill themselves. My basilisks will kill any creature with a single gaze, but upon hearing the call of a rooster, they die without fail."
Empress Hecate motioned towards her sigils.
"Sometimes, the weaknesses are more practical than fantastical. Again, it all depends. Chaw'Hust's Magic is bound to have its own shortcomings. That is where you must strike."
Darrus’ hopes sank ever so slightly at the explanation. A common, overarching, logical and comprehensive guide to how the supernatural functioned would have been so much more reassuring than the soft explanation that no, no it was all just rather…complicated. And as Hecate spoke, with quiet disappointment Darrus picks up one of the pieces of paper from the floor and adds to the few thoughts relevant to it, as expressed by the figure elaborating on the nature of things to her.
“Make your basilisks deaf then. Banshees or some creation of that ilk ought to suffice.” Darrus murmurs softly, scribbling on the paper, before looking up and back at Hecate. She wore a strangely puzzled look on her face as she hesitated to add a further bit of information. She did not know if it was the right time to address it, but the stress of its relevance moved her lips for her. “Our leader was assassinated…today,” she announced softly, correcting the date so to obscure the strange timeline of it all, “by Chaw’Haust himself. Compromised, you might say. Sometime in the near future her body will be delivered here for analysis…” Darrus goes from a soft murmur to silence, before her tensing fingers crumple the paper in her fingers.
“I’m afraid…” she adds gently, “that I’m running out of time.” It is an odd statement for her, given the inherent absurdity of the notion, but the fear was sincere. “Whatever is coming is rapidly approaching, and…and all we have are strange warnings. Strange, strange warnings…” Abruptly, her composure shifted, and in an instant she corrects the vulnerability and returns to the carefully crafted façade she normally adorns herself with. “When the body arrives, I’ll appreciate your assistance in assessing it. Chaw’Haust deposited some sort of artifact into her before being driven off. I believe it may indicate something pertaining to the source of his power.”
"You are correct," Empress Hecate smiled, "but that would require an action to compensate for its shortcomings, maybe a spell that would cause it to go deaf. But therein lies the problem? What if I don't have access to a Deafening Spell at the time? What if the opponent targets the part of the Basilisk's mind responsible for processing sounds and makes it hear the call of a rooster from within its head? What if a deaf Basilisk is a useless Basilisk, since eliminating its vulnerability to the rooster's call also eliminates its lethal gaze due to such a magical ability being engrained to its very identity? The variables can be many. Furthermore, I am unable to fuse with the other States in this galaxy. Empress Gaia and I could come up with a genetically modified Basilisk, and we have before, but it probably won't ever show up here."
Empress Hecate then listened to her guest's report.
"I will do what I can," the turquoise Monarch said, "but I must warn you: my Neutrality binds me from taking any action against the Artifact. I may help you try to analyze it, but I cannot do anything that would be considered by Chaw'Hust as directly getting in his way."
Empress Hecate's voice grew even more somber as she asked:
"Have you implemented our suggestions yet? The effects of the scroll will take time to administer, but I'm sure your faction can find a way."
Darrus considered her response carefully, keeping great consideration towards revealing no elements of her demeanor that she did not find profitable to their relationship to share. At the behest of her new superiors, it was being considered as a successful assassination; Prime Admiral Dorin had truth be told been attacked by Chaw’Haust and there were witnesses to that end. But if it was to be considered an assassination, it would be more likely to be considered as an assassination attempt, for Dorin lived; she was in point of fact even healthier now than she had ever been, altered in seemingly benign fashion by the Demon’s powers.
But the Heraldics had other reasonings to accommodate for. While they may not have put credence into Haust’s antics and claims of holding similar goals with Dorin, their minimal knowledge of the supernatural had lead them to move swiftly against her. So in a silent coup, the Heraldics had taken a stunned and altered Dorin away, placing her trembling body into cryostasis, and continued on with redoubled fervor. Her fate was to be masked with ambiguity, but the truth was variant here: her new instructions asked that the SHEATHES entities be consulted as to just what Chaw’Haust had done to her, and if there were any “strategic exploitables” present in that shard of crystal he had lodged into her body.
These were strange times, after all.
“Not as yet. I’m still attempting to execute them upon myself as a test subject. I—“ she stops herself here, careful from revealing too much. What she had been about to say was how she had been consulting Alice Maydic’s research into the arcane, and had as yet had no luck at all with triggering any sort of a paranormal spark as she evidently had documented.
“…I’m not certain I have the touch for these things. Our race is not…particularly natural, or conventional to any real extent.” She explained gingerly, though with a confidence as to mask her hesitation. “Our lifestyle, for instance, has dictated us to forclude family structures from forming at higher levels so as to minimize interdependence. All of us who you have seen,” she adds, “were never born from a mother. We are artificial, unnatural things…and so far,” she adds regretfully, “I’m beginning to suspect our unnatural origins interfere with our execution of the supernatural. Or perhaps I’m simply more ignorant of it than I had earlier anticipated.”
For in spite of all of her research into the arcane, she was not at all adept at it; not yet, at least, and she conceded that it could take a considerable while to become so. Her confidence was gradually dwindling as she worked towards understanding how to influence the unseen powers the SHEATHES were offering, and the latest brazen assault by the Demon-effectively unseating the head of her civilization-showed the critical importance of finding a defense against such entities.
"Intriguing," Empress Hecate murmured, "you are not Natural, and yet not Supernatural. That means you would relate more to Emperor Vulcan, for his work deals with the Unnatural, not the Natural or the Supernatural. See, I know nothing of how to genetically engineer things, or how even how to cobble a clockwork clock together. I do, however, know how to tell your fortune just by reading how your tea leaves at the bottom of your cup."
The Turquoise Monarch sighed.
"Whether one is Natural or Unnatural should have no bearing on whether they have access to the Supernatural or not. My 'Patrons' have given me reports on other universes where inhabitants have used both Technology and Magic in tandem; Emperor Vulcan and I are capable of doing so on a grander scale should the situation call for it. Still, I believe it may be more a 'heart' problem than a 'head' problem for your kind. It may be because you're trying to explain away the Supernatural as a Science. Perhaps your faction isn't trying to harness it so much as it is trying to figure out how it works. One doesn't need to know all the tiny details about something in order to use it. One just needs to use it. Think of ancient sailors catching the wind with sails on their galleons. They don't know all the details of what constitutes air, or how air currents are generated. They simply accept that stuff as is, and spend their time letting down sails to catch the wind instead of figuring it all out."
A pause.
"Of course, some knowledge in such matters is needed. Not the total knowledge, but enough to get one started. That, I believe, is how I can be of service to you," Empress Hecate said with a smile.
|
|
|
Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 20:13:34 GMT
It was an odd scene.
Darrus' quarters were perhaps the most disorganized of all of the chambers aboard what had once been a casino station floating in the middle of nowhere. Of course, now the casino station was a starship, and through means not entirely straitforward it was hurtling out towards the peripheries of Ancerious, carrying with it strange and wonderful things. But again here it is fact that, of all the rooms in the station, her quarters were the most disorganized.
In the middle of it all, Hecate poured Darrus a cup of tea. They were silent, having just concluded a serious conversation as per her duties as an emissary to the SHEATHES entities, pertaining to which bird in their experience had the most remarkable plumage. It had come down to something that, in technicality at least, was not truly a bird; rather a variety of flying fish that had adapted to desert climates. Still, it was marvelously multicolored.
The two sat at a small table Hecate had manifested in the center of the manifestly messy room. Papers were scattered all over the floor, covered in scribbles consisting of both the lower and higher Flux languages, as well as replicas of runic structures Darrus had observed on the SHEATHES entities. For each drawing, there were perhaps five or six sheets of paper stacked nearby, filled with notes on all the times nothing had happened. Darrus, for all her diligence, was making no progress. Potted plants had notes stapled to their leaves, and notes were hanging from the walls and off the counters and they lay scattered all over the bed...
...and as Hecate finished pouring her cup of tea, Darrus wondered what she thought of it all. "Thank you," she said politely, and gingerly reached out towards the cup.
"Have you heard about the Art of Tasseography? It's essentially tea leaf reading; my Oracles can tell to the minute what a mortal will experience. They prefer to read from Earl Grey, however. I'm not sure why, even if I created them. Perhaps I was sipping Earl Grey when I Manifested my first Oracle. Who knows. Anyways, would you like me to give it a go?"
Empress Hecate poured herself a cup as well, and one she set upon thin air once she took a sip. The little, bowl-shaped object didn't so much as bob in mid-air as its creator's hand left it.
"Mind you," Empress Hecate said, "whatever I may discern is your property. If you want me to forget about my discoveries, just say the word."
Remarkably, Darrus was rather unsurprised by the levitating teacup. After a few weeks, things were beginning to feel familiar; she no longer eyed meals with slight apprehension nor required double takes when walls sprouted arms in order to help her put her ceremonial robe on in the morning. The insane--or rather, what would be insane to the more mundane members of her society--all made sense, strangely enough, though she had not as yet summoned up the courage to peer into the mirror the entities had bestowed on her...
But Darrus did freeze for a moment when the tea leaf reading came up; her pupils flared slightly at the shock of it. She was, oddly enough, learning not to control her appearance so dreadfully much; tiny amounts of earnest honesty, well trampled into submission by the Heraldic's indoctrination, shone through at strange and wonderful moments. She was, of course, not at all yet ready to consciously discard the shroud she cloaked her heart and mind with, but it was all much less alarming and unsettling as time went by. Slowly, she was becoming accustomed to them.
"...fortune telling?" Darrus murmured, a thin smile trembling on her lips. She brushed back a series of loose strands-her hair, which had been impeccably combed when she began her mission a few months earlier, had begun to acquire a frizz to it on account of less time being given for appearance and more towards her work. "...why would you want to do that?" It was, on the surface, a perfectly innocent sounding question, but she considered the tea carefully. Memories or not, it just wasn't prudent to share that kind of information with an outsider.
Empress Hecate took note of her guest's reaction, and realized she was wading into secret waters here. She had tried to learn as much from Darrus as she taught, without prying into details too much. Empress Hecate knew right off the bat that Darrus' upbringing was one that had little to no encounters with the arcane or the supernatural. Empress Hecate also gathered from the conversations she'd had that her guest may have been a stranger to what the Arcana State stood for, but Darrus' was no ignorant woman. Truth be told, Emperor Vulcan was clamoring to have Darrus spend more time with him instead of his more mystical colleague, but no matter how he took out his frustration on her forces during their War Games outside Ancerious, Empress Hecate did not budge. Darrus would learn more from her, and that was that.
”Oh, my dear," Empress Hecate started gently, "it's only natural that I would suggest such a thing. The arcane deals with many things. Some branches of magic deal with the control of one's environments; Elemental and Transfigurative Magics do that. Some branches deal with the creation or manufacturing of servants. Fortune-telling would belong to a branch of Magic that seeks to understand that which is not yet known. I say this because the next step from Fortune-telling is Fortune-weaving. The Three Sisters of Fate were renowned in Greek Mythos, and the Norns in Norse Mythos, for doing just that."
Another sip of tea.
"However, I get the feeling your privacy would be violated if I do so," Empress Hecate continued, "and that isn't something I wish to do. Perhaps there is a less invasive branch of Magic you'd like to dabble with?"
Darrus hesitated, and gently sloshed the tea in her cup in a strangely amused fashion.
"You forgot Cassandra." She adds, before looking up with clarity towards Hecate. There was some irony in discussing mythological characters with an entity who took the name of one of them. "There is a human author named Mary Shelley. Have you read her?" It seemed like an odd segue initially, but it was a good round about, a soft path to testing the idea.
"She wrote a story about a man, a physician, who defies the gods and creates life. Takes emptiness and makes life out of it." She sipped the tea half way down into the cup, observing carefully the leaves at the bottom while keeping the cup well secured in her hand as she gently tries the waters.
"When they saw what he had made," Darrus concluded, "they burned down his home and drove the physician and his creation out into the night."
A pause. A strange pause. She looks back into the tea.
"Ah, Frankenstein," Empress Hecate smiled, "that's more of a science, that is, that doctor used natural and technological means to reignite life, not create it. In his universe, that stunt worked, but I'm not so sure it would work here. Nevertheless, I believe Dr. Frankenstein's work falls under Emperor Vulcan's jurisdiction. Empress Gaia creates life too, but using her more 'natural' means. The way I create life, well..."
Empress Hecate brought her palms together, and when she opened them, a butterfly fluttered out of it.
"...I prefer a more Thaumatugric means."
The insect made its way around the room for a few minutes, until a pair of arms popped out of a nearby wall and smashed it flat between two azure palms.
Birth by palms, death by palms.
"Now, Cassandra's gift of prophecy, given to her by Apollo, would be elementary compared to mine. Not in this galaxy, but the one I own, or am, I can create Apollo himself a hundred times over. I assure you, then, my gift would be more refined than anything he can offer. Granted, I am limited in this Galaxy, so prophecy granted wouldn't be too extreme, but it should help. For example, if I peer into your tea leaves, I can see that..."
The Monarch froze for a second.
"Oh," Empress Hecate mused, "oh, this is interesting."
She looked up.
"I see nothing."
Darrus's face blanks. It isn't the normal mask for her, with its polite smiles and noncommittal suggestions, not enigmatic or guarded. It is simply expressionless; defaulted almost. Her first thought was to feign concern. Logical enough, she thought, to show concern at the revelation that she had no future.
"Perhaps the tea is not fresh enough." She suggests very softly, before slowly setting the cup down on the table. There is a moment of very awkward silence, the sort of silence that comes as secrets begin to be comprehended, as one realizes that a conspiracy of one is beginning to unravel. Not quite caught in a lie, but close.
"The townspeople take their pitch forks and their torches and they chase the doctor's creation into the night, simply because of what it is. So it spends its days hiding." She adds as an afterthought, thankful that her composure is so artificial as to not reveal the angst and concern permeating her every molecule.
"Freshness has no impact on my reading capability," Empress Hecate said, shaking her head and peering into the cup one more time and focusing hard, "Oh, now I see something. Yes, yes, there it is. I can read it now. It...it says..."
She looked up, disgruntled.
"It says 'reply hazy, please insert another quarter'," The Empress frowned, "well, I'm not quite sure that to make of that."
Darrus raises an eyebrow minutely. Truth be told, she does not imagine that Hecate is as confused as she is appearing to be; underestimating deities (or things of that tier, at least) is not a mistake Darrus will make. But she maintains eye contact skeptically, before slowly reaching out and grabbing the tea pot.
"You are the fourth intelligent race my people have made perceptible contact with in...a considerable while," she begins as she refills Hecate's cup. "We are an old people. Some like to say that we are star stuff, but more accurately, those stars have little bits of our ancients in them. The first," she says as she finishes and moves to refill her own cup, "were outsiders, like yourselves. Beautifully intelligent creatures. Once they found out what we were, they attacked us, and it took extreme sacrifice to remove them." Remove was such a nice clean word for it; the Nakai had fought viciously against the Ascendancy, and removal was the same thing as scorched earth.
"The next time, we found someone of a more common mold, and we lifted them up. We offered them gifts of prosperity and technology in exchange for their assistance, and that succeeded; greed is predictable in that way." She pours the tea into her own cup now, shaking the tea leaves from the bottom of the cup and sending them flurrying around in their liquid sea. "Then the third came, and they, like the first, vowed our destruction. We made the mistake of trying to talk to them, you see."
She finished pouring the tea, and returned the pot to the table.
"You are the forth."
She fell silent, unsettled by her own words. Her people were Frankenstein's monsters, pursued for the sake of their very existence. And here she sat, having tea with an entity who feasibly could remove them from existence before resistance could me raised, as they began to understand why the rest of reality rallied with their pitchforks and torches.
"This is excellent tea." She adds at the end.
"Oh, darling," Empress Hecate's voice was motherly in its sweetness, but also in its reprimand; sweetness to console Darrus, and reprimand to ensure that she didn't gloss over what would be said next, "I understand now why you are so secretive. I do not condemn you for it, as you have a right to it, but I do understand. Rest assured that my kind poses no threat to you. It is not a matter of us being able to harm you, but decided not to do so..."
In a flash, Empress Hecate materialized a gleaming, turquoise rapier and drove it through Darrus' head. It happened with blazing speed; the sword had passed through the woman's skull even before photons from it had reached her.
She saw the blade come right at her, and the composure vanished. Her reflexes, alas, were not fast enough to spare herself, but Darrus threw herself backwards from the table, continuing on long after the tip of the blade evidently no longer penetrated her skull. The teacups rattled on the table long after Darrus froze, her chair knocked over amidst the sea of papers, her eyes wide in alarm.
"As you can see," Empress Hecate smiled, "it's not a matter of wouldn't, but couldn't. We don't wish harm on you or anyone, we can't harm you or anyone, so we won't harm you or anyone."
The Blue Monarch took a breath.
"Of course, our Essences also compel us to give gifts to those who allow us to learn and discover about them. We cannot refuse an exploration, and our gift will have to match the knowledge given. That means if your enemies take advantage of that, we will be inclined to give them gifts as well. However..."
Empress Hecate smiled.
"You do own this Galaxy. We Monarchs cannot operate here unless you permit it. At most, we are limited to a nomadic lifestyle. Therefore, I don't need prophecy to forsee that a lot of our gifts will be going to you. We Monarchs have no choice. You did, after all, help us greatly by allowing us to exist here in the first place, giving up those maps, as well as the wealth of knowledge you just revealed about your faction. We are in debt to you, out of all the races in this galaxy."
Darrus remained standing, though she rapidly was bringing her heartbeat back down to a more tolerable level. The shock of it all was very unsettling, the mock attack terrifying particularly with the proximity to such a sensitive revelation about her people. She stood there silently, before bending down and righting the chair she had upset while so rapidly stepping away from the blade. All this time, she maintained an unsettlingly solid eye contact with Hecate, like that of a cornered animal; but rapidly the intensity in her eyes was being masked by the robes of civility that Darrus dressed herself in, and she quietly slipped back into the chair as the last of her many masks slipped into place.
"We're losing." She adds simply. "Once people know about us, they invariably wish for our destruction. We are no longer strong enough to sterilize this entire galaxy in a single move," she says, the horror of what she is mentioning in a passing way evidently unapparent to the speaker, "and with the spreading of knowledge against us, we..." she fades out. She was going to say we fear our days are numbered, but the will to speak is gone.
Empress Hecate poured Darrus another glass of tea, but this one was more fragrant than the last. This one had leaves from Idun's Apple Tree, whose fruit was said to restore strength and youth to the Aesir. The leaves were created by Hecate to reinvigorate the mind, and to uplift one's mood. She figured that faced with genocide, one needed a little bit of cheer.
"I'll be honest with you, my dear," Empress Hecate sighed, "I and my colleagues are not strong enough to save you or your race. However, we believe that you are strong enough to save yourselves. It's just..."
The Monarch paused to choose her words.
"It's just that I feel I'm not hearing both sides of the story. Now, don't get me wrong. I believe that genocide is not the answer to anything. However, I do wonder why races would simply try to eradicate you. I'm not saying you're at fault here. It's just, well, I've known you for some time now, and I don't sense anything disagreeable or distasteful about you. Is it your culture? That would be a stupid reason to wish annihilation upon an entire civilization. Is it the way you experiment with things, or the way you look at others? Everyone is entitled to purse education, to a reasonable extent, and even more so with opinions. Was it something you did? I'm sure there's a better way of sorting things out, or exacting justice. I mean, really? Genocide? Sounds needless to me."
Empress Hecate offered Darrus the tea
"I really wish I could just snap my fingers and simply send you and your loved ones to a distant galaxy," she said, "but that would be interfering in your affairs, and I'm not allowed to do that. If I did, then SHEATHES-10 would be the one to face oblivion. Well, that's one thing we have in common, but while you face it from foreigners, we face it from...familiar people."
And somewhere in the ship, a Manifestation of Dante grinned.
"But now, perhaps we should talk of how we're going to prevent your races' demise. We may not be able to butt in, but as said earlier, we do owe you a slew of gifts. Perhaps we can be of service that way..."
The tea was, as intended, quite soothing. Darrus hesitated again, for she is a creature of hesitation and of masks, but she nods slightly.
"...it's our nature. It's their nature too, I think." She does not exhibit too much confidence here as she speaks, for such blatant disclosures are an unseemly notion for her. Yet here she is. "The races we have encountered are repelled by what we are capable of. The idea that others determine their destinies offends them mortally. We see what they will do to us, and so we do to them before they can do to us. It is not a matter of if, it is a matter of... when..."
The tea is immensely calming.
”Our greatest fear is their having the capabilities we have. They swear intent to end our families, but they lack the capacity. We wage war upon the preemptively, for we know their hearts, and we dare not let them acquire the abilities that have made us so frightful to the rest of them."
Darrus was about to tell of how here people were created by the gods to be soldiers against Chaw'Hast, when a low warble emanates from within her robes. She retrieves the disc, and after a moment of silent contemplation looks back at Hecate.
"She's here."
Empress Hecate's mask, despite being something that is normally stuck on one emotion, radiated something akin to sadness and somberness. Now it dawned on her just what the situation was. This was all one big issue of fear and of national security. These people did not want something bad to happen to them, and they were merely defending themselves from something to be, not something that is. Understandably, those they attacked would retaliate, especially since they probably neither believe nor trust Darrus' kin. Perhaps her guest was right, that the idea of someone determining your fate for you was repugnant. Perhaps that's why the Monarchs felt no hostility to Darrus, even without their Essences causing them to regard her as an honored visitor. It had always been the Monarchs who determined the fates and destinies of their Subjects. In fact, within their Territory, they defined what Fate and Destiny were. Perhaps that was what enabled them to look upon Darrus without hatred.
But still...
...Was there not some other way to resolve all this?
"It sounds to me that this conflict will only go around in circles," Empress Hecate sighed, "mistrust breeds mistrust, and hate breeds more hate. You came to us willing to learn, and we came to you willing to learn, and look where we are now: having tea. As I've said, I neither judge you or your race's actions. However, I will say this: despair is impotent. Hope is what gives one strength beyond the explanations of Science. I wish no destruction upon anyone, not on you or those who oppose you. I wish for peace."
Empress Hecate paused as Darrus announced something.
"She?" the Monarch asked, "may I ask who you refer to?"
Darrus rose to her chair, affixing the clasps on her robe into place and brushing the loose strands of hair back into place.
"Our former leader. Chaw'Hast assassinates her one month from now. They're having her body brought here for analysis so we can better prepare ourselves for whatever is coming."
|
|
|
Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 20:13:48 GMT
Union High command Orbital: Mirach system: Union space
Laramar nodded "Apologies admiral, left unattended they can become a bit boisterous and instinctive." He reached out to the shuttle uttering the word calm to it and at once it retracted itself from the gaping hole it had created and landed quite contently in its previous position, some blood glistening on its front.
The drakes weren’t amused any more. blood had been spilled for no good reason and the chaos was to intolerable levels. Helios observed the chaos and sighed. "Tend to the wounded...organize the dead. quickly." He said calmly, somewhat aggravated, running his hands through his hair. the others stood and bowed. "yes, my king." they each said in almost perfect unison, moving out to retrieve the injured first. "this is unacceptable." He said to himself quietly, standing and rubbing his eyes. He turned to see Vortexean, still listening to his music, unaware of the disaster. Helios gave the wind drake's boot a tap with his own making Vortexean jump in surprise and popping the earphones out of his ears. Votxean looked at Helios in confusion. "Yes, my king?" He asked curiously. Helios merely pointed to the damaged hangar. "what happened?" he asked Helios. "just go and help the dead and wounded, vortexean. we'll tell you after...oh, and contact Dr. Gren...we may need him later..." Helios answered. "yes, my king" Vortexean answered, running off to help the others. Helios remained where he stood for several moments before he turned his attention to Hargun.
The Tenebrean Delegates during this time had largely been keeping quiet. choosing to observe the Frenzied rush of the coalition as they had quickly, and, almost without warning rushed to bolt from the council chamber after receiving a comm-link of a nature that. At the moment, was largely unknown. Not many of them bothered to respond to the group as they made their way out, Save aldarian, who, standing quickly and scanning the crowd for the Female Teruvian known as Victoria, had given a quick wave to draw her attention, before Mouthing a short set of coordinates and a station name for her and the coalition trade council to follow up agreements of Trade later on, and. Secretly. For her to find him later on.
Xtopher turned to watch the raudonah as he did this, and only looked at him silently for a moment as the group disappeared through the doors. before turning back to face the rest of the council, acknowledging the Coalitions leaving, but not choosing to engage in it. Their business was of their own concerns, and none of his. Pham however, could not resist the urge to poke the Raudonah, and elbowed the drake in the side. "Giving her your number are you?" He had asked Cheekily. Which had earned a Somewhat embarrassed look from the Raudonah. which had simply responded with a short Growl, telling the Tenebrean to Back off on the issue.
Pham however did not, and joked a little further. Quiping that the Raudonah had better hve been careful during their "Talks" or he might end up with a group of political "Packages" in a few months.
The Raudonah only scowled at that. yet, under his layer of ultra hard scales, his skin had blushed quite deeply.
This indifference had not lasted long. As the coalitions efforts to quickly make their leave, and the incomprehensibly immature responses of the other Representatives and their Vessels had once again drawn massive amounts of Frenzied fighting among the delegates, this time, aimed at the coalition as they had prepped their weapons systems on both their drop ship and their arriving vessel. choosing to apparently test fire their jet style thrusters within the diplomatic hanger. Which had, unlike the Null thrusters that they used on their own shuttles in order to manoeuvre, caused impressive amounts of damage to the other delegate vessels where they had been docked. Xtopher and several of the others had stood at this, Warning signals from their own interceptor type cruiser, which had been docked next to the coalition ship detecting the activation of their weapons systems. yet this was not the Cause of alarm, for the coalition vessel, while armed. had not chosen any targets to actively engage.
Xtopher had turned to Hargun at this, his voice still maintaining the calm demeanour that it had held thought most of the conference. but now holding an edge of sternness that would have Crippled most lesser men. "Hargun, They have requested to leave. Do you question their right to do so? open the hanger door, and Let it be..."
What had drawn their vessels Central entities Attention was the reaction of the Nex Vessel, Which had Targeted the coalition vessel. A Target, far too close for its liking, the coalition ships hull being only a hundred or so meters from its own. Prompting the Activation of its own weapons systems in a defensive motion. Its entity Contacting the Nex vessel in the nano seconds before it did and Requesting, albeit somewhat angerly, That the nex ship Disengage their target, as well as a further statement that had encompassed a somewhat insulting Statement about a "William Tell, in space"
Hess found himself waiting for the great equalizer of the universe…the lift. After all even in the future with star travel and such no one could come up with a better means to go between decks of a ship or base then a glorified elevator. As he began to ponder just why it was every species he met seemed to do the exact same thing in that light the lift actually arrived. Hess stepped in finding no one else aboard and punched in what deck he was headed to and the lift began to move. In the background some sort of muzak was playing…oddly enough it seemed to resemble something by the gap band…hmm no, yes! “You dropped a bomb on me….I swear the union must be Irony central!” Moments later the chaos in the shuttle bay that contained the coalition craft began. The station shuddered as the collateral damage was traded and the event unfolded in the large hangar that the SSC had politely declined to dock in. The lights on the lift flickered for a moment before Hess found himself at the same deck as the bays and the conference. As Hess stepped out of the lift to get a look around it was clearly a slice of mayhem…damage control teams were running about and warning sirens blared indicating the status. It would take a few moments for Hess to get an answer out of someone but finally when he did the answer was simple enough. “The damn coalition, they went all batshit ran out of the conference and hopped into their lumpy ship then demanded to be allowed to leave or they’d ram the doors…damn well cooked several other shuttles in the process!” “What the hell I can’t go down stairs to send a dispatch without the universe going sideways?” Hess knew damn well the person he’d talked to was too busy to answer that as he made his way to the conference proper. Of course for Hess this was as the humans would say a mystery in an enigma box and wrapped with a query bow and wrapping paper. Indeed why would he coalition flee like that unless…. Hess’s arrival at the doors to the room where the conference was being held interrupted his mental considerations as he nodded to the heavier guard outside and presented identification before being allowed entry. It would be a moment or two before he returned to his seat and proceeded to ask the DHR delegate just what sort of insanity he missed.
The Real Point where their attempt to maintain indifference had been broken, was when the Nex vessel had responded to the damage it had sustained in the super heated flames of the coalition drop ships thrusters. giving a screech that could be heard from the conference hall, before Turning in the hanger like a living creature, and ramming the coalition ship from the side. Sending it crashing Sidelong into the carnaithian shuttles. The Tenebrean representatives had all turned at that point. their attention drawn by the Screeching noise that had echoed within the Room, and the crash that quickly followed.
For a few moments, they had sat. Silent, before the Readouts of what had happened within the hanger, as read by the interceptors Close range scans had confirmed what had happened. The Stromian, as well as (Tenebrae) Drogan taking a few cautious steps towards the door. Before a panicked yell broke out among their small group. Aldarian, having read the readouts from the stations systems. Quickly being singled out as the source. The Raudonain male jumping up and Rushing out of the Conference chamber. Shoving aside The War-Caste Admiral as he attempted to Keep the raudonian diplomat from rushing into things carelessly, and bolting through the chamber doors. headed in the direction of the hanger.
Reik was thrown from his personal bunk as the impact of the coalition shuttle knocked the carnaithian one aside, and he was pissed, the last time someone interrupted his sleep... we'll talk about that later. He yelled down the stairwell, with red lights flashing and an alarm blaring, the intercomm came on. "All medics and engineers report to stations. Impact on Starboard side, gun battery two of two offline. CIWS online." the AI reported as Reik marched down the hall, looking for answers.
During the commotion a ship had entered the system, nearly undetectable, and made speed towards the station. Aboard the bridge was bustling as Darkstrider briefed the team whilst the crew made sure the ship remained undetected. With Sabre team briefed and moving to the shuttle he took one last look out of the bridge windows and shook his head at the amount of traitors before him. He made haste to the shuttle where the team were ready and waiting.
The shuttle came in dark, to a hangar the Captain had ordered made ready to receive them discretely so as not to alert their target. The team disembarked and as quickly as it had arrived the shuttle was gone. An aide handed Darkstrider a summary of the conference thus far and he shook his head at the events that had occurred. "Idiots" He muttered before gesturing for Yates and Rook to take the other route. Khan and Connor fell in behind him as they marched down the corridor towards the conference. He had those loyal alert the Skia to what was about to happen, he'd prefer to remain intact.
He got confirmation from Yates that they were in position, and with a nod to Khan and Connor he spoke into their private channel "Lets go". With this the three moved into the chamber at the end facing the main table, at the same time Yates and Rook stepped in from the door behind the target. Khan and Connor stood either side of the main door as their captain strode up the main pathway towards the head table. "My apologies for the interruption Admiral" he spoke, loud enough for all to hear "I hate to gatecrash but I have a rather important task and it wont take long. Grab her." With this command Yates and Rook pulled Captain Lydia from her chair with extreme force, smashing her into the wall behind, each pinning an arm and preventing a leg from moving. She was a formidable person herself but against the strength of these two even she was restrained.
Hargun leapt to his feet "What is the meaning of this Darkstrider?" He shouted angrily "Release her this instant!" Darkstrider looked Hargun straight in the eye before throwing him a data pad with the information Sabre team had collected over the past weeks. He waited for Harguns reaction, expressionless as the Admiral's expression turned for one of astonishment, to understanding, to rage.
"You now see why I am here Admiral" Hargun looked at him for a moment, the information he'd just learned rushing through his mind. At last Hargun gave a curt nod "As you were captain."
Lydia was still struggling against those restraining her shouting curses and threats, meaningless nder the circumstances. "Darkstrider you bastard, stand down, I'll have your head for this, you have no right!" She snarled as he walked towards her smirking.
"Oh I have every right Lydia" he said smirking at her reaction to his insubordination. " Connor!" He shouted "The charges!" From the doorway an amplified voice boomed out across the chamber as Connor cleared his throat. " Captain Lydia" He started " You are charged with treason, conspiring with the enemy, unethical and heretical research, plotting the murder of over half of the Union personnel based here in Ancerious including Admiral Hargun and Captain Volkus, corrupting Union forces for your unholy plot, and the murders of hundreds of Union personnel in the name of you lord." Connor finished and looked at Darkstrider who was being handed a colossal hammer by Yates' free arm.
"For these crimes there is only one punishment" Darkstrider began. Lydia screamed in rage before snarling "You don’t have the authority, I'm your commander and you will desist with these actions this instant you bastard!" Darkstrider smirked at her empty threats made by a creature deperately trying to save itself. "Captain Lydia prepare, for I am Judge" He gripped the arcane hammer in both hands "Jury" he said as he pulled it back "and Executioner" he said just loud enough for Lydia to hear as he swung the hammer. There was a sickening crunch which echoed across the chamber as the hammer impacted her skull as her life ended. "You are relieved of duty captain" he whispered to the headless corpse before passing the hammer back to Yates and making his way out of the conference as promptly as they had entered.
Hargun stood silently. Once again something had interrupted this, but this.... was far worse than anything Hargun had imagined. Civil war, the Union was going to war with itself, a portion of military personnel had been given over to this 'cult of Apophis' and was now going to lead attacks on the Union loyalists, and Lydia one of his second in commands had been leading them. He sat down and held his head, he had failed, at commanding and bringing peace, only more war. He looked around at the many faces "My friends, I am sorry, with this news I have received the Union is now embroiled in the start of a Civil war, a cult called the 'Cult of Apophis' has taken route, and corrupted thousands. It will take us time to win however I have failed at this duty. To keep the peace. I again implore you to join this alliance, that we may defeat this chaos. Plans for it officially can be drawn up with all your combined help. However, It seems the hope is fading fast. We will jointly provide forces against the coming darkness, share resources and technology and information. With the building of the station jointly along with its co ordinated defence by us all, we will be able to hold the darkness back, for those of you who know me hear this. I don’t say this lightly. The galaxy is falling, if we don’t stand together and fight back and prop it up. All we know will die" He stopped and let the events sink in.
Counsellor Rowan at that time, already getting ready to leave. The place was to waked for her liking. She and her two assistant personnel make there way to the hanger as she trys to get a situation report on the wounded, and four dead. One of the PSD force still able to move and borrowed a heavy forklift or some sort of object/cargo moving unit to try and pry the ship out from the wall as another try's to assess the damage. But, before she left the room she did hear hargun's remark on a Cival war. First the coalition are spooked about some sort of -boogy-man now, the union was split in internal turmoil. Her mind was heavy and she needed a break. But, DHR was not fully withdrawing from the ordeal. High command was already pulling Rotkappchen from his leave on Faenor, to head to the meeting once they got updated on events from W- 359. While to others it may have seemed like DHR had lost all interest in affairs of the northern Crescent, they had infact doubled so. Counsellor rowan sends a short message to Deneb Alucard." Sir, we have a problem. "
with the other drakes busy helping calm the chaos around them in the hangar, only Helios was present to witness Lydia's death and hear Hargun's plea. He looked at the headless corpse that had once been Hargun's second in command and scowled. "just as i had feared." He said to himself quietly and looked at Hargun once more before disappearing in a quick, bright red flash and appearing between Hargun and Lydia's remains, getting a closer look at the later. "Hargun..." He said as he examined the body.
Hess observed the rapid change of events just a bit stunned at the events unfolding. The way the others acted was strange at best, perhaps was it something in the air? No, that made no sense, not everyone was acting this way, it was like a wave of insanity had polluted the conference as a whole making progress largely impossible. Hess leaned on one arm to his assistant who was busily recording events through a camera-like device mounted on a hovering tripod-platform. Hess too the precaution of brining one hand up to cover his mouth so anyone attempting to lip read would not quite know what he was saying. “Lin, has my prior message to HQ been sent?” “No, it’s at the anchor group still do you want it edited?” “I would prefer it be cancelled, I’ll have to compose a new one recent events have…ruined the equation.” As Hess turned his attention back to the meeting his assistant busily typed up a cancellation message to the anchor fleet. It was pretty damning really these folks were utterly nonchalant about the events as they were. After a few more moments of consideration about what was to be said and the points to be made Hess finally stood taking a glance about the room one last time.
“Have you no concept of what has transpired here Mr. Hargun? This entire conference is headed on an uncontrolled death spiral and you keep pressing on alliances as though it’s not happening. Thus far I am finding it hard to believe the union could ever effectively manage such an agreement as your management of this conference has indicated. To keep track thus far a weapon snuck past your security, mayhem in the shuttle bays, an explosion in the fighter bays and now an apparent murder. This is wholly unacceptable; this conference is an unmitigated disaster and I can tell you my recommendation to the quorum will reflect the state of affairs as they are. With that said you have failed to garner any confidence in the threats you indicated being actual threats…more so you have presented no proof.”
Hess took a moment to let the words sink in as he glanced about the room there was no doubt he was less than happy about the events that had unfolded. In fact his glare alone was one of the more uncomfortable things one might find themselves the target of at this moment.
“Now the Tenebrae have presented evidence, we have presented evidence. Where is your proof that the galactic alliance is needed, more so where is your proof that these….cultists are even a threat?”
" are you familiar with the events of the Natza Kartania incident, Hess?" Helios asked Hess, still looking down at Lydia's corpse.
"a few months ago a facility in this universe accidentally punched a dimensional hole into my world." Helios replied. "while they didn’t know what they had done, they had still retrieved 'artefacts' and 'samples' from the other side that they deemed of scientific value for experimentation and study, what they thought were just crystal fragments. they had no idea what they had in their possession...after a few weeks, when this galaxy's forces gathered there to investigate the events that had taken place, they found disease, violence, death, and pain. what they found was chaos" Helios turned to face Hess. "the survivors, what few there were, were left insane and violent, feasting on the dead and changed into unrecognisable beasts. they had sold their souls to what they originally thought were just unliving rocks. those crystals they had collected were actually slivers of soulshards belonging to the draconian gods. and the inhabitants of those ships that made up the facility were just the start of their new cult which has since then expanded." Helios motioned to Lydia's headless corpse "in fact, one of those ships is still missing." He added
Hargun nodded "Those infected can 'convince' those around them it seems of turning too. At least at the facility, we didn’t think any would survive... let alone get loose to create this..." Hargun turned to Hess "The Union is one of the most secure nations in Ancerious, our populace are content and riots, rebellions or dissent is as rare as a universal event, for this to have happened truly shows the dire threat these cultists pose to us. I have also received word that the Spartan Empire is in the throes of a civil war against some sort of neo heretics too. For those who know of them they too have no dissent. they are a proud people ones who do not defect. Also at this moment a rebel stronghold widely regarded as a host ground for these cults has sprung up on the planet of Tau Volaris as many of you know. There we also have word of other factions helping them, like the Dark Triumvirate who have already raided several nations and the AI paradox rebels who have broken away from another faction who finds dissent rare. For these forces to work together so openly we have a threat unlike any other. And that’s not beginning to touch on the religious fanatics of the Eos Consortium or the Unknown anomalies near Ostech space. Look around you Hess the events of the galaxy, the slow working together of those we dub 'immoral, corrupt or evil' is showing of an impending strike against all of us. Individually against such forces, power and numbers we cannot hope to hold"
Hargun then looked at Helios and nodded "If you want any pin point evidence i can state it all right now if you really wish me to"
General Templar as well as (Mars Empire) Drogan were both getting frustrated by what was unfolding around them. Templar leaned towards drogan and asked with somewhat anger in his voice and also in a low enough voice so others could not hear him. "You call this politics? All i see here is over treated and undisciplined waste of life with no real purpose or understanding." Drogan simply nodded and said "For once Templar I agree with you fully." Templar then received a message from his flagship indicating that they caught a slight glimpse of an unknown ship docking with station that came out of nowhere. The message also indicated that the sensory crews as well as those in charge would await punishment for not finding this long before it appeared. However General Templar sent a message back stating that there would be no need for disciplinary actions. His pistol slowly unfolded and was ready to be used just in case who ever arrived had worse intentions.
When the new visitors arrived the royal guards took a few steps forward. When they saw lydia get restrained they nearly drew their own weapons. However general templar rose his arm giving them a haunting signal and they returned back to their original post.
Once they all left Templar rose up from his seat and then said with a voice that was filled with fury as well as a calm feeling to it. "May I ask that everyone in this room with what ever logic that they were given by what ever god or being you worship explain to me this. WHY are we all here exactly?" He looked around the room at all the other reps and began to walk towards Hargun the royal guard fallowing behind him as well as Drogan who had his guards on either side of him now. Templar continued " Can any of you tell me the answer? Because for the first time in my entire existence I have never seen a group of individuals that have been in such a state that i nearly consider them unmanageable...." He walked up to Hargun and continued again as he gently lifted him to his feet and fixed any detail on his uniform that he had messed up while he lifted him saying " Adrmial Hargun of the Union of worlds sent us all a message inviting us here to represent our empires in this system." A hologram appeared in drogans hand as he spoke "I don't know about everyone in this room but how about we listen to that message again."
Drogan played the message again "This is Admiral James Hargun of the Union of Worlds, I am speaking to all those who are in command of the various nations in the Ancerious Galaxy. I wish to invite you all to a Conference in the Mirach system about the potential future of Ancerious and whether we can work together for the benefit of all. This is a crucial turning point for all our nations histories here and I hope you all will turn up, while here we will discuss many scenarios and work out a plan to keep this galaxy away from the chaos that it is currently in. Together we can forge a brighter future. I hope to see you all here. Hargun Out" before saying "I know you all heard this." Templar then said " 'To keep this Galaxy away from the chaos that is is currently in' I was sent here by my empire's ruler Lord Order for he knew that just sending an representative from a full political background was not enough. I have fought in my empires wars long before we have arrived to this galaxy. I command armies made up of many races. Many of them which hated the other for what ever reason i did not care for chose to forget those petty rivalries and hatred to fight the against true nightmares and chaos that threatened us. I stand here now only to see many bicker and argue over rivalries and not giving a single thought to how to move past them or towards the future." Templar looked at the now lifeless body and continued "First it was that immediate departure of the coalition who ran out without giving any reason, then it was this. I would say it now all i see here is individuals who are blinded by their own greed and own ideals." He then pointed to Hargun and said "Though Admiral Hargun has made a few mistakes he still believed in this unification vision. One where we all work together against what is currently happening. Chaos is what is happening here and this man is the only one trying to make order of it all."
Hess minded the draconian's description of the problem with the cult making sure his assistant was recording it for later review. As the details were posed it did pose a different picture certainly and Hargun's addition put a differing angle on recent events including SSC's recent encounter with rather well armed pirates in defence of a coalition convoy some months ago. "You both make very valid points quite worth considering, from a logicically and strategic perspective I must ask, do you think it wise to spread thin handling multiple threats or focusing on the ones we can conclude rapidly then moving on to others with greater force and numbers? I would pose....that the pirate issues, rebellions and cult issues cannot be rapidly brought to a close but the one other threat on the board can be." "More so....I have to ask in the case of the recently deceased...how is it you can tell one is afflicted with this....cultist corruption?"
Hargun nodded in thanks for Templars statement and began to answer Hess "I think it will be wise to rapidly and aggressively take down threats with overwhelming force, then move onto the next and so on. You are correct the cultist threat cannot be rapidly brought to a close. However the Union wishes to personally deal with out.... traitors" He said looking at Lydias corpse, the corpse was being examined by the Drakes and Union personnel, several Skia had phased in to keep the area under wraps and to stop any more sudden intrusions which didn’t have authority in here. Hargun the turned back "We were lucky, this piece of evidence seemed to have been secured at a secret testing lab conducted by corrupted personnel, it details all of those who are to be in league and their various roles when the time came. Along with those to corrupt or kill. Me and Volkus were on that hit list. We have this list however others will not. I am not sure what the signs are however when i think about it Lydia was suddenly more aggressive about a month after Natza Kartania, she as head of black ops sent in a team to survey the facility and to make sure nothing remained, however it seems something did... and it spread fast"
Helios looked at Hargun once more and motioned towards where lydia's head would have been. "may I?" He asked
Helios kneeled down and waved his hand over the splattered grey matter, skull fragments, teeth, hair and everything else that was once Lydia's head. the pieces all shook and began to move, gathering to one specific point next to her body's shoulder, right under Helios' hand. the pieces came together, quickly reforming her head in near perfect condition save for a few scars over her eyes and mouth. Helios picked the head up by the hair and pointed it towards Hess and Hargun, Her eyes suddenly fluttering open
The head of the women started to scream, a scared scream like an anticipation of ones death. It filled the chambers and many members looked horrified at this turn of events. The IRS reps talking to themselves disturbingly and the Eramons looking utterly confused as to what was happening.
Reik came down the stairs, the contents of the mess hall had all been thrown in one direction, medical personnel were running around, as several soldiers had been pinned behind tables against the far wall, and nanohives in the walls were releasing nanites to repair and heal. Reik Yelled, "what the hell happened here?!" he said, one of the crew members replied; "coalition, sir. They attempted to evac the station rapidly, they fired engines and that sent the nex shuttle into some sort of charged form, which then crashed into the coalition ship, which impacted our starboard side sir" the crewman said. "very well, i'm going outside" reik said "door's already open sir, medics and soldiers are all over the place, all factions present" Reik walked down the main ramp meant for sending out the boarded sandlion in emergency situations, but it instead had body bags strewn about it, with any sort of possible dog tags being read off of the charred bodies, most of them DHR. CIM soldiers were around the ship, recording with their hemet-mounted cameras, the Coalition ship had left, and the Nex ship was now docile again, but there was burn damage everywhere, medic tended to those who were still alive, some in coma, some screaming terribly. Reik walked towards the conference, and he saw the head being held by helios, and he hadn't seen shit like this since the omniversal wars. he decided to drop it and walk back to the ship, he needed a drink. then it screamed, now he needed a few drinks...
Hess watched the new spectacle with a bit of confusion more then anything else...was this how they did things around these parts? As if the conference was not weird enough here disembodied parts are yowling loudly...biologically this made no sense and yet here it was. Hess was certain this was not how it was supposed to be and yet... the drakes had by means unknown made it so. Was this another rigged spectacle on the union's part or perhaps some cultural show of power? "what....is the point of this?"
Klester stood to get a better look, clearly interested.
Laramar sat there for a while, looking at the mess near Harguns table, he muttered to himself "Same old Darkstrider"
"the point is questioning, she's no good to us dead." Helios replied to Hess over the screaming head which had still not calmed since its resurrection.
The Carnathian ship captain was sitting at her seat when the head was reconstructed and screamed, She had signed up to be a captain so she didn't HAVE to see shit like this, she quickly asked where a rest room was and ran for it, Holding her mouth and stomach. one of the assistants said; "...coooool..."
The head stopped screaming and opened its eyes as if Lydia had never died she looked around horrified at the delegates and at the apparent lack of her body "What... What is happening! What has happened!" The head of the captain shouted in abject terror.
Hargun looked on at the happenings somewhat recoiling and also confused at the Drakes abilities, however he knew the Drakes wished her to be questioned "Captain Lydia Quarn you have.... had been accused of treason and were sentenced to death under Union law which was carried out... on the spot about 4 minutes ago. You are actively working for and being influenced by the Cult of Apophis. Please answer our questions" Hargun said wondering if this was all a dream he was dreaming the night before the actual conference.
Lydia looked in horror however frowned in anger "Hargun... you did this! I knew you were behind it all! You have no power now! the Union will know the truth about the universe! You cannot hide behind the Emperor forever! I know things you would never even dream of! The corruption goes deeper than you know! Than all of you know! Even know we grow stronger in all your nations. Thats all I will say, end this and let me die. Then i can finally embrace my true lord" She said in bitter hatred.
Helios listened. "and who is your true lord?"
She spat "You would know Lord of the Drakes, why don’t you spell it out for all to hear. You know of its true power and you know he is coming for all of us"
"speak his name, cretin!" Helios demanded, his fangs barred unnaturally on his human face, his mouth reaching from ear to ear in teeth.
"NAGAETROS! PRAISE HIS NAME!" The head shouted.
As she spoke, another Carnathian assistant's eyes widened, as she send a message to CIM hig Ancerious command about possible corruption, and to bring all Carnathian inhabitants to psychic evaluation centres as soon as possible over the next year, also attaching an audio file to the message.
"I’ve heard enough!" Helios replied through his unnatural, fanged mouth. He dropped the head which disappeared in mid air, leaving the room silent. Helios' mouth returned to normal. He returned his attention to the others in the room.
|
|
|
Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 20:24:02 GMT
--oOo--
It was not without reason that the Taciturn Voice was the vessel selected to convey Prime Admiral Dorin's body to the custody of the SHEATHES. Shipmaster Tullis already had history with them, though for the SHEATHES her involvement was a peripheral thing; they had never met, of course, for a common Flux had no business becoming involved in interactions with those outside their carefully managed civilization.
But she had, regardless of fame or reputation or even awareness, been present right from the start. It had been her ship, her crew, that had come out of the dark carrying the Ascendancy's representatives to those strange and unnatural entities, and had she been coming back now under less grave circumstances, Tullis would have likely felt a certain degree of excitement at the mere proximity towards such unknowns.
The Taciturn Voice had been selected to transport all pertinent materials and personnel to the SHEATHES entities in order to minimize the amount of exposure the Ascendancy risked with them; for as long as was feasible, theirs would be the only ship to come into the space dominated by the SHEATHES and their paranormal capabilities over time and space. As they crossed the border, the temporal overseer announced anomalous readings from a great number of systems, which Tullis calmly dismissed and advised be put into standby modes. Conventional sensors and navigation methods would carry them from there on out.
Yet as the Taciturn Voice opened her Uller's Boxes and began a final approach on that strange "casino"-- though evidently it was now a ship, and an embassy to boot--a sense of mourning was present first and foremost on her mind as the ship carefully lined up with the docking port. They carried with them a victim of this war most unnatural.
"Time till contact thirty seconds shipmaster." The helm operator announced calmly as the station loomed large as a ghost in the air. She nodded silently, then turned away.
"Follow through." She said the words simply, and left the bridge.
--oOo—
While they seemed distant from the group, Empress Gaia and Emperor Vulcan were very much in tune with their colleague. Although they circled each other in their etheral, wisp-like forms, concentrating on their activities, they were keenly observing Empress Hecate. There was a look on her face that was part-worry and part-curiosity. She stood by Darrus as a mother would stand by her child, and as her current Manifestation took on the height of 3 meters, her close and friendly position looked even warmer and more caring. However, being Monarchs, they could sense an air of inqisitiveness aimed at Darrus from the Azure Empress.
"She saw something," Damien said in the distance, the vacuum of space doing nothing to hamper his words.
"Pardon us?" the wisp Manifestations of the Crimson Emperor and the Verdant Empress spoke without mouths, their forms glowing with light with each word uttered.
"I'll talk about it later," Damien said, "for now, focus on your War Games."
The wisps returned to circling around each other. As they did so, bits and peices of their essence swirled off, like smoke disturbed by the sweep on an arm, or steam rising off freshly-cooked rice. Those bits and pieces colided with each other in the space between the two Monarchs, and little bursts of light flashed between them. It looked like a fancy lightshow from a distance, but in the eyes of the Monarchs, a different spectacle was taking place. And, oh, how Empress Hecate longed to join in.
However, there were more pressing matters at hand.
The War Games could wait.
"Welcome," she said, courtesying to the incoming group, "please, make yourselves at home."
Nothing, she thought, I can see nothing.
It was true. The 'futures' of these people were beyond her sight at the moment. She kept that detail to herself, her mind going back to when she read Darrus' tea leaves.
Just who are these people, she thought to herself, what have we gotten ourselves into?
--oOo--
The airlock had opened like an eye, or rather several eyes within eyes; metal dilated, warped, curved and bent almost organically as plate upon plate retreated and ceased its objections to the passage of matter. As the door had opened, or unfolded, or ceased to resist as a barrier, or whatever you wished to describe it as, the view from Darrus and Hecate's perspective slowly came into being.
On the far end of the corridor stood four Heraldic guards; faces armored and impassive to human emotion. They flanked a large block of dark and burnished metal, intricately carved and draped with a simple blank black piece of fabric. As an honor guard, they flanked the container and kept it by their sides. Within it, Darrus knew, lay the body of their leader, now unseated by strange circumstances and terribly comprehensive apprehensions.
And behind them, a fifth figure stood; for it had been Tullis' duty to shepherd the fallen Prime Admiral through war torn territories. This she had done; with considerable effort the Taciturn Voice had slipped through the cracks as the Flux are want to, and so now at this moment she watched her mission come to completion. Ignored by the Heraldics, she stood behind all of them, beyond the corridor, looking on past the coffin at Darrus and the unnatural green... thing...
Words failed to describe it for her.
"I'm afraid the guards will not be able to remain here," Darrus explained softly as they carried Dorin's coffin off the ship with solemn steps. "The Taciturn Voice is being recalled for combat duties immediately. We're going to need every ship we can muster in preparation for upcoming events."
Her eyes met Tullis' gaze, but no recognition was to be found in them. Tullis, after all, had no memory of Darrus; and at this hour was standing more in awe of the entity opposite her at the far end of the corridor. It was the first alien Tullis had ever laid eyes upon, and no more alien a creature could be imagined by her at this hour.
"At least have them bring these along," Empress Hecate motioned with her arm and several platters of cupcakes floated towards the guards, encased in blue shielding, "they're made out of ingredients summoned by our Patrons, so they won't disappear when taken outside Monarch territory. They are free to scan them as much as they wish, but they're regular pastries, only they're baked with a lot of love."
--oOo—
In the distance, Empress Gaia and Emperor Vulcan reassumed their Person forms. They had just ended their (very miniature) War Games Session, and Empress Gaia came out ahead with a score of 53 to Emperor Vulcan's 47.
"Tonight, all toilet seats in the embassy must be left up," Empress Gaia declared victoriously, "such are my terms!"
"Curse you, woman," Emperor Vulcan snarled, snapping his fingers. Inside the Embassy/Ship, the bathrooms obeyed.
"Our Head of Arcana has guests," Damien smiled, starting to stroll back to the former casino, walking on outer space, "shall we join her."
"Aye," Emperor Vulcan sighed. Anything to get his minds off his loss.
On the way, Damien told them about Empress Hecate's discovery.
"So, she cannot read their 'fates'?" Empress Gaia asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Not just their future," Damien said, "anything about their timeline is beyond her sight, much less her influence. Even in a place like this, with the Locking Glyphs in play, she should have been able to at least 'see'."
"Then our guests are not to be trifled with," Emperor Vulcan said in a matter-of-fact way.
"Of course," Empress Gaia agreed. "However, this is a discovery. Even if it is an indirect one, our guests hold the right to determine whether such information is to remain with us or not."
"I concur. We must present our findings once Empress Hecate gets things going in there," Emperor Vulcan nodded.
As the Monarchs simply walked through the embassy shielding and walls, Dante materialized beside Damien. The two shared a look:
'Oh, this should be good', their eyes said to each other...
--oOo--
Silent and stoic as they were, a hint of curiosity existed as the Heraldics considered the cupcakes; predominantly though the curiosity was well drenched in suspicion. The pink frosting could, in theory after all, be quite acidic.
Darrus almost rolled her eyes, and she gestured gently at the plate. She could almost hear the guards chattering silently amongst themselves.
--But we can only consume liquids--
--These are solid--
--They might be traceable.--
--Likely our biological functions will not be adversely effected--
Their paranoia was all at once understandable and foolish. Strange though, she realized as she watched them silently consult themselves as they considered whether to leave the coffin or not, how recently that would have been her precise mentality as well.
The guards, being occupied and lacking conventional digestive tracts, were not the best people for pastries. At that moment though Darrus looked back at the figure remaining on the far side of the corridor.
"Shipmaster Tullis, a word please?" Darrus called out invitingly, and even the empress could see clearly from that distance the eyes widening slightly. Tullis hesitated only briefly, but what a terrible moment of hesitation it was; the guards even broke their silence in protest.
"The shipmaster should remain aboard her vessel, emissary." One growled with electronic intonation, more on account of the vocal arrangement than by cause of malice. After all, it was forbidden for common Flux to interact with the outsiders...
"It's alright," Empress Hecate said kindly, turning to Darrus, "my lady, if you would like to speak with your comrade in private, please feel free."
The Azure Empress made to step back just as the other two Materialized behind her.
"How's it going?" Emperor Vulcan asked.
"Oh, it's fine so far. There's the usual mistrust, but hey, we're used to that by now," was the cheerful reply.
As the other two appeared, Tullis' jaw dropped a notch farther.
"But, before you go and talk to your friend, Darrus," Empress Hecate said, "please note: the area extending up to 9 kilometers from this Embassy is part of Monarch Territory. Unless masked by an extreme force, or unless you exit it, we will be able to hear what you say. However, rest assured, anything you don't want us remembering can be discarded. Just say the word. That goes for you as well." Empress Hecate nodded towards Tullis.
"Actually," Darrus replied, "I was meaning to introduce you. Shipmaster Tullis," Darius spoke gently as she glanced back at the pale faced Flux shipmaster, "this is Empress Hecate, part of the trinity of intelligences directing the SHEATHES entities. Empress Hecate, this is Shipmaster Tullis, master of the Taciturn Voice."
It was an easy enough thing to do, in Darrus mind; introducing Tullis would demonstrate something of immense significance about their civilization to them. Tullis, on the other hand, as mortally unsettled by it as could likely ever be, would forget quickly about the encounter once outside of the area of effect of Darrus' pheromones. It would not likely do much harm to her, after all, though the guards visibly stiffened as Darrus bent yet another of the Flux's careful doctrines.
"Pleased to make your aquaintance," Empress Hecate courtesied with Empress Gaia, and Emperor Vulcan bowed with 'Patrons' Eins and Zwei.
”Darrus has been a pleasure to serve and talk to," Empress Hecate said, "I and my colleagues have learned things about your kind. We have been informed of what plagues you. While we are forbidden from inteferring directly, we can offer pointers and certain...parlor tricks."
The Azure Empress guestured towards the coffin.
"I assume that is why you've visited."
Tullis was whiter than a ghost. She could see *through* then, and in the Khamood'Urr's name there was nothing like it she had ever envisioned. Realizing her silence in response to a question asked of her by what was undoubtedly a rare and higher form of life, she managed a brief reply.
"Chaw', yes Chaw'Hecate, it was my... my privilege and duty," she says carefully, enunciating every word immaculately out of great nervousness, "to convey unto your custody the body of Prime Admiral Dorin." Unlike the cautious mistrust of the Heraldics, Tullis is raw, and the anxiety of simply speaking is evident in abundance here. "Chaw'Darrus, we have been given orders to depart," she says forcefully yet with a deeply respectful tone, locking her eyes on the Heraldic as if it were easier to look at her than at her surroundings, “as soon as is feasible in lieu of our circumstances. With your blessings, might I return to the ship? I have... proceedings that require my attention, chaw', and it would please me--"
"Yes Tullis, you are free to return." Darrus replied with the slightest tone of patronization present in her voice; not malicious, but simply a quiet sense of humor at the stress of it all for her. "But take the cupcakes with you. I doubt you'll have a chance to try anything of that kind for some time."
Tullis nodded, and then gently reached out and with a curt bow grasped the tray of pastries, bowed again, then bowed to the emissary, and then spun on her heels and briskly walked back towards where she had come; her dress moving sharply given the pace.
"Before you go," Empress Hecate called, "what does 'Chaw' mean?"
Tullis paused uneasily, turning back to face the now slightly more distant entities.
"Chaw'Hecate, it is a term for a great traveler. It is a sign of respect and honor, chaw'." She bowed again curtly, and then with eagerness to escape from such strange and terrifying ideas, hurried around the corner, well thankful for the knowledge that she'd soon forget the whole encounter.
"Great traveller," Empress Hecate murmured, "it's funny how that isn't very far from the truth at all. Really, it's the little blessings like these that one learns to appreciate. But now, on to more pressing matters."
The Azure Empress made a guesture, and a tapestry of sorts appeared underneath the coffin. It wasn't just an ordinary Flying Carpet; it was Empress Hecate's personal Flying Carpet. She figured that she might as well answer the respect with more respect.
"Come," Empress Hecate said to Darrus and the others, "we have work to do."
"Before we start," Emperor Vulcan said, "you should know, we have been...alerted to your civilization's extraordinary relationship with time."
The guards abruptly froze midstep, turning back towards Darrus and the SHEATHES entities with armored faces not revealing the sudden contortions of flesh beneath their metallic exoskeletons.
--They know.--
It was all at once that the thought passed between them, a thought of sheer horror. Darrus knew their hearts well; during the first contact with SHEATHES, a second ship had loitered out there in the dark watching with full preparations in place to annihilate the Taciturn Voice, the emissaries, the guards, and hopefully the entities should the contact go as many of the highest echelons of the Ascendancy's unnatural society feared. Of course, with the graces of their representatives such actions had been unmerited then; but now she knew precisely their fears.
"Still." She snapped the word coldly towards the guards urging them toward a calmness not of their own disposition, with an air of command fair harsher than she had had reason to speak in any occasion since her arrival here. Glancing back at the entities, they could see the alarm in her eyes.
The Monarchs reacted with blinding speed. Where they once stood tall and regal, they were instantly down on one knee, a glowing bubble in their hands. Dante and Damien remained still, but already they were amassing energy, ready to summon a portal for the convoy to flee into.
"Hear us out," the Monarchs said.
"I stumbled across that detail when I attempted to read Darrus' fate via tea leaves," Empress Hecate started, "and I am a very good reader when it comes to that. However, I saw nothing. Nothing in her future, her past, or even her present."
"We tried getting a read on you using our various methods," Empress Gaia continued, "I used psychic clairvoyance, and Emperor Vulcan used all sorts of tech. But nothing came up." "Through process of deduction, we surmised that your relationship with time is unusual. But that is it," Emperor Vulcan finished. "However, we are bound to share our findings with their respective owners, and it is up to those owners to decide whether or not we can keep such information in mind. Hence these orbs."
"Those orbs are our memories on this particular subject," Empress Hecate stated, "we are bound by our Essences to discover, but to discover is one thing, to record is another."
"If we have caused alarm, we apologize," Emperor Vulcan said, "but such a situation can be easily rectified. Take our memories about our discovery, if you wish. However, let it be known: to explore is our purpose, and we cannot help but attempt to learn more about you, and everyone else who resides in this galaxy."
Dante and Damien shared another glance.
'I told you this was gonna be good'...
"You allowed this?" One of the guards growled, the agitation evident in the raised pitch of his synthetic and utterly unnatural sounding voice. Darrus, being well graced with mask atop mask atop bone, lied more sincerely than she'd ever lied before.
"I could not help it happen," she stated, praying that the lie held with the xenophobic armored beings assessing them all with intense hostility. "Since they realized-"
"You did not report back with news of their awareness. You deceive the Ascendancy." The cutting anger, the fear in those mechanical voices sounded nearly malicious in sincerity and fervor. "You commit treason and bring danger upon your family in arms Darrus. You are not fit for this post if you allow them to comprehend our nature. You return with us at once."
“She is not to blame," Empress Hecate said, rearing herself up. There a little more firmness in her voice this time, where there was only humility and amicableness earlier. "And no, we are not aware, if that's what you're worried about. Just because we have a slight idea about something, doesn't mean we are fully aware of it."
"Besides, what have you to fear from us?" Emperor Vulcan asked. "We've already demonstrated our inability to cause harm to any who dwell in this galaxy. We are unable to Manifest so much as an army. 225 Subjects from each Monarch hardly counts as a petting zoo, much less a threat."
"No, Empress Hecate only demonstrated that to Darrus," Empress Gaia spoke up. She then looked at the guard. "Perhaps we should demonstrate to them firsthand how incapable we are of putting a scratch on them?"
"Belay that," Empress Hecate said, "it might cause them to panic more."
"But can't you see, my dear?" Empress Gaia said, "they don't trust us. They need concrete proof. I can't think of anything else that would show them how harmless we are than to lob a bomb at them and watch it explode with zero effect."
"Enough," Emperor Vulcan said, "perhaps it's time we took this to your superiors. Let them evaluate our presence here and decide as to whether we are a threat or not."
Empress Hecate placed a large, blue hand on Darrus.
"But know this," she said, "she is your only real bridge to us. If you remove her from our presence, we will not be able to aid you in what's coming. And from what Darrus has told me, it's not a matter of if it will come, but when..."
--oOo--
"These... cup cakes," the temporal overseer admitted through a sugar addled state of mind, "they're really... really quite good." Mind you it was a fifth of a cupcake, as Tullis had been feeling uniquely democratic upon entering the bridge. In the back of her mind, a vague sense of intense unease persisted, but without memory to support it Tullis did her best to appreciate the confection, a feat not all too difficult given the circumstances. They were perhaps the lightest, fluffiest, most excessive piece of foodstuff Tullis or any other Flux, Heraldic or not, had ever been lucky enough to taste--
--and then a low yet cuttingly sharp alarm begins to wail. Had they been in space where temporal capacities functioned as they ought to, they would have known days in advance of what was going wrong aboard that strange traveling casino-embassy.
--SECURITY FAILURE. COMMENCE EVACUATION. STERILAZATION MANDATED.--
The guards were taking no chances; no explanation was given for the circumstances, but behind them and their coffin and the entities, the airlock rapidly began warping closed as layer upon layer of metal plaiting rapidly interlocked and resumed the task of keeping oxygen on one side and space on the other. The last crumbs of the muffin being stuffed into her mouth, Tullis rapidly assumed her position, commencing the security keys for the FSEMCE activation while the helm plotted an FTL course anywhere away from where it would soon be.
--oOo—
"Simple departure will fail to properly cauterize this leak of awareness." The guard growled, well resigned to the fate that would in moments be befallen them. Whether or not the coffin's occupant would survive was a fact well beyond his consideration, as Darrus rapidly stepped towards him.
"We cannot defend ourselves adequately against what is approaching us, and you know this. My work here is critical to the well being of the Ascendancy!" It was oddly enough the first time that name had been spoken in the presence of the SHEATHES entities, and the fervent passion coming out of Darrus now was one she had been bred to possess. "This galaxy is changing, and we must adapt if we are to survive in it; terminating our most promising avenue--"
"--your reports show no real progress in your studies. Or have you deceived us there too?"
"I speak of adaptation! We cannot continue to annihilate those who stumble upon us!"
"THEY DID NOT STUMBLE!" The guard practically screamed as weapons began materializing from the matter emitters that protrudes from their armor's wrists. "YOU SHOWED THEM!"
"She did not show us," Empress Hecate said, this time even more firmly, "we made that discovery ourselves. Have you been listening to us? We decided to peer into your past, present and future. We decided to play detective and figure it out. We are to blame, not Darrus."
Empress Hecate raised an arm, stepping in front of her guest. She may not have been able to harm the guards, but at least she could ensure they didn't harm Darrus. Was she foolish in getting attached to her guest? Maybe. But the SHIELDS Treaty didn't forbid that, and until it didn't, she knew what she had to do.
The Empress opened her mouth, and a soft melody begant to reverberate throughout the vacuum of space.
"Come now," a second voice layered itself across the first one doing the singing, "be reasonable. There is no danger here. There are no enemies here. You are among friends."
Dante and Damien smiled behind the Azure Monarch.
The Siren was reputed to cause more sailing-related deaths than Syclla or Charbydis. Their voices were irresistble, not just because of the magic lacing them, but because of their natural talent. Within the bounds of the Ancerious Galaxy, Empress Hecate's Siren's lacked perfect hypnosis. But then, hypnosis wasn't her goal. Even if the Siren's voice she used right now had a reduced effect, it was all she wanted to use. Empress Hecate aimed to calm down, not rob of free will.
"Come now," she said lovingly as the song rose in volume but not in harshness, "will you not think it over? Let us settle this in a civilized manner."
--oOo--
The Taciturn Voice leapt into the void at speed as her faster than light drive silently ushered her as swiftly as feasible away from the casino station. It was a strange and silent sort of horror for them as the taste of Chaw'Hecate's cupcakes turned over in their stomachs. Something was horribly wrong now; the guards were silent to them and with every passing moment Tullis realized the utter futility of her mission. She was about to render the body of her leader that much more dead than it was already.
"Twenty seconds till termination zone escaped, FSEMCE targeted and awaiting initiation sequence shipmaster!" The weapons overseer announced loudly as the shipmaster watched Flux characters counting down time to clearing the termination zone. She said nothing, watching those seconds pass by as she tried to remember where the cupcakes had come from. It was an odd thought, really, to be contemplating desert as one is about to extinguish lives of any number--
--and then the sound began. She could feel it vibrating in some sort of harmony with the carefully crafted components of her ship; the Taciturn Voice itself sang softly into the void as it raced away from the death it was about to unleash.
It was a strangely pleasant dirge.
--oOo--
The song had a similarly unnerving effect on the guards. It is important to understand that the idea of the friendship offered by Hecate was an utterly alien one to them; the Heraldic's culture not only had carefully excised the idea of a family by growing their Heraldics in strange mechanical wombs, but they had instilled in each and every one of that caste a sense of rivalry and duplicity and competition that augmented into a strangely controlled yet untamable, unenviable sort of sociopath. But the voice played with their hormones, urging the stillness that Darrus had commanded in conscious defiance of what they knew must be done. Worse still for them, they felt themselves calming in direct contradiction to the infallible logic of the situation; she was playing their minds like instruments.
So with a great deal more calmness than he ought to, the closest guard opens fire, unleashing a torrent of electric blue bursts of energy into the equally blue form of Hecate.
Blue exploded against blue. What was once a large, heavily-robed woman burst into a storm of energy and sparkles. The beams found their mark, and Empress Hecate did not bother getting out of the way. Her body spasmed as the torrent ate into her, but at the same time, she ate into it. An errant spark made its way past the Empress, and onto Darrus' arm, but as soon as that happened, Empress Gaia wrapped fragrant vines around their guest and pulled her to safety.
And still, the singing continued.
"That hurt," Empress Hecate's voice took on a more pleading and pitiful tone, but the sweetness remained. "Why did you hurt me? What have I done wrong? Did I attack? Did I harm you?"
It was to be expected, Dante smiled in the background. The Manifestation of a Monarch was only part of the package. She was her Territory, and her Territory was her. While STABS-2 existed, so would its Monarch, and vice versa.
"Oh, please, oh please," the Siren's song intensified, this time, more voices joining in. It was a choir both angelic and musical. "Please think this through. Can we come to an agreement?"
--oOo--
Fifteen seconds. Actually, this didn't seem all too bad. Not all too serious either.
"Shipmaster, do you hear that?!" The temporal overseer asked with... with a strangely laid back sort of alarm, really. I mean, it was alarming, hearing a choir invisible I suppose; we're supposed to be the invisible ones, Tullis mused considerately, let alone be serenaded...
"Shipmaster?"
"Oh. Oh yes, sorry. Yes I do. Rather pleasant, don't you think?" She started humming along with it before she recognized the words. It was providential that the Siren's song transcended ideas of language; lower Flux was engineered to be nigh untranslatable, but fortunately for the SHEATHES entities that was not as serious as a matter when addressed from their angle as when it was looked at logically.
Not the angriest sounding threat I've ever heard, Tullis acknowledged. Actually, really it's rather catchy. Dah-dah, dah dah dah--
...well really, Tullis thought, I shouldn't initiate the FSECME without final confirmation, should I.
"Initiation in nine, eight, seven..."
...no, no, not really. That's... that's hardly civil, is it? Tullis felt a pleasant sort of delirium really about the whole thing, though she was not particularly cognizant of it. It was simply all too pleasant, really...
"Confirm firing orders, won't you?" She said the words with a distinctly unprofessional sense of ease. It was only reasonable, wasn't it?
--oOo--
Underneath the helmet, three dozen small beady eyes widened in confusion.
She took that rather well, the guard thought dryly, with equal amounts of irritation as confusion at her response. Let alone the scene as a whole.
--TACITURN VOICE REQUESTS INITIATION CONFIRMATION--
A pause. A long pause. The guard tilts its head with a minor sense of wonder as Hecate's disembodied voice continued its implortations. It's sincerely unusual, he decides at last.
--TACITURN VOICE REQUESTS CONFIRMATION--
The singing permeates his thoughts. He doesn't care for it.
"Stop that." He murmurs in an electronic whir, confused while calmed, irritated at his lack of coherency and in the back of his mind a doubt forms. Something is not right with this--
--TACITURN VOICE TO AWAY PARTY. COMPLY--
--something is very odd about all of this...
...they're not fighting back?
--oOo--
Empress Gaia and Emperor Vulcan moved in front of Darrus, shielding her with their bodies the same way Empress Hecate did. Already, the Verdant Monarch had Manifested a tall, slender plant with many tendril-like stems. The flowers on the very alien-looking flora breathed glowing pollen on Darrus' arm where the spark had grazed her.
"I hope it helps," Empress Gaia murmured, "I have barred myself from prying into your biological status, so I don't know how your flesh works. This pollen should ease the pain and promote rejuvenation, but tell me if it needs some adjustments, and I shall comply.
Patrons, please keep the Portal on standby, Emperor Vulcan thought to Dante and Damien, I'm not sure if Empress Hecate's antics are working.
I'm not sure fleeing will help, Damien thought back, It's not so much your presence that bothers them so much as your awareness.
That may be too conservative, Dante thought, I think it may be your presence and your awareness.
Still, no matter where the Monarchs run, these people will not tolerate their existence in this Galaxy.
Maybe, but at least if they run, they'll be able to buy enough time to negotiate. They'll be able to prove to their hosts that they are no threat, and their awareness of their relationship with time isn't so much a liability as it is a mere fact.
Shall we meet each other halfway, then? Damien's thoughts were doubtful. We can simply not use the Portal but generate a second Territory elsewhere. If this one were to cease, the Monarchs would still exist in location number two.
The Monarchs might, but how about Darrus? Dante mused. She's not exactly part of the Monarchs' Territory.
I can generate a person-sized Portal for her and the coffin, Damien brushed the dilemma off, however, with my current Manifestation Tier, I won't be able to include the guards.
It's settled then, Dante rolled his eyes, now we wait.
Empress Hecate maintained her song as her Manifestation began to materialize once more. She purposely slowed down the process, trying not to alarm the guards. Her posture was calm, with her head titled to the side as if to say 'come now, was an attempt on my life really called for?'. There was no air of aggressiveness around her; even the other two Monarchs in the background were interested only in shielding Darrus from the wrath of her kind.
"Will you at least allow us an attempt to figure out what happened to the person in there?" Empress Hecate motioned towards the coffin.
Darrus blinked slowly. The shock wore off more slowly still, and through it all, the universe spun slowly.
The guard's weapon was a cruel one. This was typical, really, she thought blandly as her neck rolled limply as the vines pulled her away. In partial stupor, she could see where Empress Hecate had stood before vaporizing in the face of the barrage, and the Heraldic guards with their weapons drawn, silent as statues, frozen in confusion at the thoughts in their own mind.
Her head rolls limply. She sees rapidly spreading spiderwebs of grey and blue spreading out from the blackened patch on her upper arm where that errant spark, that shrapnel from great things meeting, had found a home. Such a small fleck had already managed to do much, and worse still on account of their biology.
As part of the Ascendancy's obsession with secrecy, their genetic materiel was crafted in such a way that the Heraldic could leave no trace of their existence. They were un-recordable by means of technology, forgettable by means of biology, and here, they were self erasing. Dead cells turned to ash quite quickly, so as to forbid even a chance of their genetic materiel from remaining in a room after they left. The guard's weapon had been set to utilize this; on the surface it was a burn, but underneath was where the damage was done...
...and as the flowers came and delivered painkillers unto the wound, the cells inside were dying and deteriorating and flaking off into her bloodstream. There, they will begin clotting the arteries and ultimately if not treated, the heart.
She hears words, and her eyes focus on Gaia's green face with some faint and distant combination of fear, amusement, and confusion. She blinks, flinches, gasps slightly, and begins pulling herself upright even while suspended by the ponderous foliage.
"...you need to leave, all of you," she whispers, as the guard tilts his head at Hecate's petition. There's no chance, she concedes with her eyes, that my people are going to let you leave here alive. Yet perhaps Darrus' estimation is ill advised; the guard hesitates in confusion at the foolishness exhibited by the entities. They do not resist--are our weapons too feeble? She can almost hear them consulting silently in these few quiet seconds.
--TACITURN VOICE TO AWAY PARTY, CONFIRMATION MANDATED.--
--The entities are still communicating.--
--My thoughts are being compromised.--
--As are mine. Vocal effects suspected.--
--TACITURN VOICE REPORTS SIMILAR EFFECTS; FIRING CONFIRMATION--
--Are we in danger?--
--MANDATED.--
--Advise twisting audio frequencies to compensate.--
--Seconded.--
The guards remained frozen, weapons drawn on the entities and crackling softly as they bled off the energies not required when restrained from their usual purposes. Between them, hundreds of eyes carefully assessed, scrutinized, and weighed the situation. They communicated faster than most any other race as they did this, cautiously considering the strangeness of the hour.
--Containment is paramount. Sterilization must be prosecuted.--
--Do so.—
--Why are they offering to help us?--
--Seconded.--
--Their lack of defensive posturing is peculiar.--
--We do not have time to discuss the matter. Initiation is mandated.--
--They are not matching conventional threat response parameters.--
--Each and every moment we allow them to exist further is an increased risk to the Ascendancy. I am authorizing initiation.--
--Their behavior is confu—
--oOo--
Empress Gaia gazed deeply into Darrus' eyes. While the SHEILDS Treaty forbidding the mind-reading of beings who do not consent in both word and action, it didn't take a mind-reader to know that something urgent was about to happen.
"We need to get that arm treated," Emperor Vulcan murmured.
Patrons, Empress Gaia thought silently to her bretheren, we request a secondary Territory Establishment."
Have any place in mind? Dante thought back, gazing off into the distance. Despite being little more than an apparition, he could sense impending danger. The universe felt like it was drawing a breath, incoporeal lungs heaving as it amassed air and power. When its quota was reached, Dante knew that what would follow would be a roar.
An all-powerful roar.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
Our previously-decided destination, Empress Gaia answered firmly.
You sure?
If we run now, it would only cement their views of us being a threat, Emperor Vulcan said, glancing at the guards.
Fine, Dante uttered the word and vanished from sight.
Patron Zwei, Empress Hecate said, still without a body, please transport our guest with us via Portal.
But that means I'll have to leave this ship behind, Damien said in mock disappointment, oh, very well.
He snapped his fingers and a bright light engulfed Darrus. When the flash dissipated, both Damien and Empress Hecate's guest were gone.
"Now then," Empress Gaia said, turning to the guards with, "shall we attempt negotiations again? Or would you like to–!"
--oOo--
In that instant of confusion, benevolence, fear, apprehension, all things ceased. They did not by any measure grind to a halt, no, hardly; the world did not end with either a bang nor a whimper.
The Taciturn Voice hardly moved over the course of the event, but it with its head start narrowly escaped that rupture of the laws of physics and humanity. It was over almost literally before it began as the flake raced into existence; a black mass that sprouted like ice out of barren ground, but in each and every directions all at once. The guards died without pain, and their bodies froze where they stood not simply on account of temperature, but from the fact that the very force of gravity itself had been consumed, nullified and digested by the insatiable hunger of the flake's inexorable growth. The oxygen shifted terribly from gas straight to solid and with no gravity to pull it down a cloud of white exploded into perception; that is, had anyone been there to perceive it.
The lights died as electricity ceased to exist; Empress Gaia's manifestation did not even ripple, but was stripped of its body and pulled like air from a ruptured tire into the void, compressing and shifting into the purest, densest carbon reality would ever host. All things ceased, and the ceasing ceased, and it passed beyond comprehension. What was then in that instant was of a nature that defied perception; light was consumed, and there was darkness; warmth died, and the cold was lifeless and still too was killed by the monstrous desires of the flake.
The embassy, for all its might and magic, ceased to move; the spirits that resided in it through strange mediums were annihilated and became ephermal echoes that had no soul to speak of, no existence to lament the loss of. It hung there, dead in space, and after several months light slowly began to return. Then returned gravity, and the bodies began to drop, long after the deed was done.
|
|