Chapter XIV: The Encounter
“Sensor data coming in, compiling a tactical overview!” said Ellen Jardin as an image appeared in the central holoprojector.
This system was also mostly empty, a small, dim red dwarf orbited by a few lifeless lumps of frozen dirt that barely qualified to be called planets. The ring-shaped relay station of Rallis that guarded the opposing jump point to Leido and the various automatic buoys were the only infrastructure placed there. Instead of a lone scout vessel, however, an entire strike group was on its way to this jump point. Emberwing instantly recognized their flagship with its distinct prongs of the Wave-Loom device. Of all the possible commanders, the Humans had now the misfortune to meet the most peculiar one.
“What a welcoming party, no wonder that the Umiak decided to speed up.” commented the Captain. “They have already crossed half the system and should be in about 30 light-minutes distance from our position right now, any insights on this matter? Perhaps we are not quite as invisible to you after all?”
Emberwing shook her head, “This group was most likely sent this way to investigate the sudden disappearance of my 25th. The chances for them to be dispatched so quickly were low, but perhaps Sector Command did not want to take any chances, especially with the Shells’ newfound fleet-lotai. Our group’s farseers couldn’t spot your ship, and I doubt that others can.”
“Good to know. Then, as the incoming vessel, we shall greet them first. You can also add a message afterwards.”
The Captain began speaking:
“I am Alexander Jardin, Captain of the Terran Empire ship Charon and acting as an ambassador on behalf of my government. We are on a mission to contact the Loroi Union in order to establish diplomatic relations. I would like to arrange an official meeting between us and discuss various important topics, like our apparent similarity.
Additionally, we found and rescued a lone survivor, who requested our assistance in her mission to alert your Command of a massive Hierarchy incursion. An Umiak fleet is advancing through this corridor right behind us. We will send our sensor data regarding this threat.”
He nodded at her.
“Honor to you, Torrai Lashret Stillstorm. I am Soroin Torret Emberwing, Captain of the Blazing Spear and the sole survivor of the 25th strike group. Following the ambush that destroyed my group, an immense Shell gatecrasher force of about 30 divisions is now heading this way to Leido. I am certain that this is part of a multipronged offensive that exploits their newfound fleet-lotai in order to penetrate deep into our territory. These Humans who rescued me are also telepaths like us, and most importantly, they can see past the Enemy lotai. Therefore, I believe that an agreement between our governments will be beneficial for us.”
The Captain stood up, “Thank you for such a positive evaluation. Now, while we are waiting for a response, how about telling us something about Commander Stillstorm? We can discuss this matter in the conference room.”
Emberwing sighed, explaining this whole mess to the aliens will be an impossible task. Why did she have to run into the Witch who was supposed to be deep in the Steppes most of the time? Did fate perhaps decided that it was now time to resolve that old rivalry with Lashret Truesword? In that case, she would honor her mentor’s legacy and face the challenge ahead. Or, being alone, could she perhaps co-opt the Humans as allies? “Yes, I shall tell you about the Lashret of the 51st strike group.”
Zarjow looked at her with a smirk and then also stood up, “Was that a sigh of exasperation? It seems we have drawn the best ticket for our strategy.”
As the three walked out of the bridge, she recalled everything that she knew of Stillstorm. That was not a Loroi to be toyed with. Regarded as irksome among fellow members of the Axis faction, but admired by the lower ranks, she was certainly an illustrious figure, to say the least. Still unstable even after her extensive treatment, and an outspoken member of the opposition, she was sent on raider duty to be as far away from Union politics as feasible, or, as the rumor went, to perish as fast as possible. Despite the odds, however, she managed not only to survive, but far worse, to earn far too many achievements, thus becoming even more troublesome.
There was absolutely no way to promote someone like her even further, as no Admiral or Elder would be foolish enough to support this affront against the Emperor for such a controversial figure, but her accomplishments made this step long overdue. Various citations, or even thinly veiled rewards like transferring some ships from the Imperial Guard, were still mere remedies that tried to postpone the inevitable, but politically impossible.
The most pressing issue right now would be her fabled stubbornness, thought Emberwing, as she sat down and started to explain: “Lashret Stillstorm, the Commander of the elite 51st strike group, is hailed as a war hero for her numerous victories, often against impossible odds. On the other hand, she is also a traditionalist that will be rather difficult to deal with.”
The Operative raised an eyebrow, “As expected, there’s a traditionalist faction, but wouldn’t you belong to it, too?”
Emberwing never considered herself to be part of a particular group. Her clan heritage made her indeed close to the traditionalists as a whole, but she did not join the Axis faction yet. Especially because she was still too young to play a prominent role or influential enough to provide any meaningful support, “Why would you assume that? I did not even explain the politics of the Loroi Union to you.”
“It was easy to deduce, based on your behavior and answers. We are not that different, after all.” Zarjow merely shrugged.
That was not unexpected, save for the speed of this conclusion, “I’m not a member of any faction, although my clan does carry political weight. This may help us now, since it will force Stillstorm to hear me out, at least.”
The Operative nodded, “Your clan does sound important, perhaps we can exchange more information about the inner workings of our empires later on. So, how or why is this Stillstorm difficult to deal with?”
“She is very convinced of our warrior ideals,“ Or more likely, desperately clinging on to them. The part about being somewhat unstable after that tragedy should be omitted, decided Emberwing, “She is also honest, very blunt and hates the Shells with a passion. You will have a hard time convincing her of your sincerity due to the apparent lotai. She won’t believe it being involuntary, or even you being who you claim to be.”
Zarjow raised an eyebrow, “I’m always the one I appear to be, especially when I’m not. Diplomacy is just another kind of warfare, and deception is one of the most common weapons in both. Especially in a first contact scenario, where neither side can afford to give the other one the benefit of the doubt, since it is yet unknown who shall end up as friend or foe. But it is also unwise to rebuke the other side right away, therefore, skill and finesse are required to balance the perceived risks against the possible gains.”
The Loroi was actually surprised at this definition, since it sounded very similar to the Perrein traditions that the Mizol caste was based on. Which were of course in stark contrast to the Deinar ones, “This is why diplomacy, in the broad sense of the definition, is conducted by the Mizol. There is a high-ranking Mizol in her staff with enough authority to take over the negotiations with a newly encountered species.”
“But the part about the warning of the Umiak armada is within the Commander's authority, right? Will she believe your story just like that?” inquired the Captain. “This sounds like a troublesome clash of competencies that we may get caught in-between, and besides, a reply is now overdue.”
“I am confident that she will believe me and there are guidelines to resolve such disputes.” assured Emberwing. “A reply shall come soon enough.”
“Good,” The Captain smiled, “Do you know anything about the Mizol assigned to this group?”
She heard only a few tales about the Emperor’s sentinel that was tasked with overseeing the troublesome Lashret. Was this a good or bad evaluation for the notoriously secretive Mizol? Hopefully, she had been granted enough authority and could reign in Stillstorm. “Merely rumors, but she seemed to be very capable.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her, then,” commented Zarjow, “Have you come up with any ideas about our incompatibility? If that commander is as distrustful as you claim, we might need to have at least some sort of clue to dispel her suspicions.”
However, instead of thinking about that, she was distracted by the weird dream. But at this point, should that be truly necessary? Any clues would be mere speculations anyway, “While our similarity and your lotai might arise some doubts, it should be clear enough that you are not Shells, if that is what you mean. This ship of yours is unlike anything I have ever seen.”
“The hull form was based on that ancient ship that I told you about earlier. Steele found it fascinating, but our other ships have more conventional design patterns.” explained Zarjow, “Still, how high are the chances that we will be mistaken for the Umiak or their allies?”
“The chances for that are very low, especially since your ship has a reactionless drive, that no one except for the Historians has mastered yet.” Moreover, what good would be sending a single ship ahead of the fleet even do? Finally, her presence should dispel any remaining doubts. “The farseers of her group must surely have already detected me, which is proof of your goodwill. A meeting in person, where I can explain everything in sanzai, shall be enough to convince her.”
“Yes, it is indeed difficult to lie in a telepathic contact.” nodded Zarjow, “but I wonder whether this Commander will even agree to meet with us.”
Were the Humans trying to outdo Stillstorm’s paranoia? “No matter what, either she or her Mizol simply will have to meet you as per the standard protocol. The problem is that despite claiming to be telepaths, you are using vocal speech and displaying what must be an outstanding level of lotai. As I said before, the spoken word is seen with a certain amount of distrust.”
“I already understood that, my concern is that this Stillstorm may meet us with cannons, not words.” Alexander Jardin pointed at the Union fleet that was displayed in the holoprojector, “Should we prepare the engines for another sprint in order to escape, if, contrary to your assessment, she deems us being an Umiak threat? After all, there’s still no reply to our hail.”
Finally, Emberwing understood the matter that was bothering her. They were talking in circles over an unfortunate misunderstanding. This is why communicating via speech was so crude and prone to error! “I never implied that there’s a chance that you would be fired at! What kind of savages do you think we are? The difficulties that I spoke of are whether you would be acknowledged as representatives of an independent government. The worst thing that could happen, is for Stillstorm to refuse a meeting and ask your ship to leave Union territory.”
“You are locked into a long and grueling war, and now the enemy is mounting a massive assault, hiding from your strategical advantage, the farsight. Just as we, a new player, enter the stage, challenging your beliefs with our mere looks, while also displaying a somewhat similar ability.” Zarjow showed a faint smile, “We want to avoid any incidents that may lead to rash, yet decisive actions.”
“This is still not enough to provoke an attack.” The Loroi was somewhat perplexed about this turn of events, until she realized what kind of territory the Humans most likely traversed. “Were you perhaps alarmed by the Tithric incident? That was an entirely different matter that has nothing in common with your case here! The Shells used their territory to set up raider bases while the Tithric authorities claimed ignorance, and then both of them twisted our retaliation for their propaganda purposes!”
“But the fact that something like that was done not once, but twice, does speak for itself. We are certainly interested in proper relations with your empire, including technological exchanges. The Hierarchy, on the other hand, is a more troublesome neighbor, and thus we do not wish for them to win.” The Operative’s smile grew darker, “But necessity may make for strange bedfellows.”
What kind of development or experience led the Humans to come to such a weird conclusion? Was this the worry and overreaction of an inexperienced warrior, since they were newcomers? Or did they seriously consider making an agreement with the Shells? At this point in the war, any interference could tip the scales, but the Loroi would be a far better choice for a proper alliance and an amiable post-war relationship. “The Shells are slavering maniacs, there’s no way you can join them on equal footing and an alliance is outright impossible! They are also responsible for countless atrocities against us and anyone else who resisted them! No matter what their propaganda claims, the sacking of Seren was an act of unspeakable cruelty that showed their utter disregard for life in general!”
“This is not a question of morality, but of survival,” The Captain stroked his beard, “and who said anything about joining anyone? The current majority in our Empire leans towards a mutually beneficial alliance with our distant cousins, but some argue that we should wait and see who actually wins, since both Empires appear to be at a stalemate.”
The Humans seemed to be quite advanced, but were they truly powerful and numerous enough to defend against the remaining Empire? “I doubt that such a gamble could work. The war has reached a point where neither side will accept the existence of a neutral bystander, more so after a victory.”
“That is also my opinion, but,” Alexander Jardin sighed, “We do not have enough information about the goals, capabilities, and the chances of victory of either Empires. Thus, the prospect of choosing sides in such a vicious war is not exactly pleasant. There are various factions in our population, and I, as the representative of the entire Humanity, must take them all into consideration. If the first contact with the Loroi Empire fails, the public opinion may change in favor of a different approach.”
“I already promised to help you smooth out the negotiations.” Emberwing looked at the Humans in a new light. Who belonged to what faction and to what degree? She was not a Mizol, but the matter of securing an alliance was even more delicate that she had anticipated. “The decision to ally with us is certainly the proper one, since only the Union can stop the Shells that are a like a plague, devouring entire civilizations and ruining countless planets for a mindless expansion.”
“You've made your point, so let’s hope for a positive outcome. We have finally received a reply from Commander Stillstorm just now.” Zarjow faced the holoprojector.
The image of a particularly stern looking Loroi appeared above the table, “I am Torrai Lashret Stillstorm of the Loroi Union, commanding the 51st fast strike group. It appears that my mission goal of finding the whereabouts of the 25th strike group is hereby fulfilled. I have been convinced that a meeting between the Terran Empire and the Loroi Union should be arranged for. We designate the Rallis relay station for that matter and ask you to set course for it. Do not attempt a jump deeper into our territory and await further instructions.”
The Captain nodded, “This went surprisingly well, all factors considered. Very curt, not particularly polite or welcoming, but we can at least meet face-to-face. Let’s head there with our normal speed, though, since doing yet another sprint would be too strenuous for our fuel reserves. We might as well refuel here, since the station needs to be abandoned anyway. The estimated arrival time should be somewhere around the next morning, so for now, how about a final history lecture to help pass the time?”
“It would encompass the spread of telepathy and the discovery of precursor ruins on the Moon.” Zarjow typed something into his console, “You can access it anywhere, here or maybe in the Lounge where we shall now head to.”
“Can I visit the Arboretum instead?” asked Emberwing. Watching males eat was still somewhat weird for her, even though they were not Loroi.
“Certainly, Alexey can escort you there.” answered the Captain.
As they parted with the Captain and approached the elevator, Zarjow spoke to her, “You may wonder why we have told you all that or what those lectures are good for. While the primary objective was to test your reactions, it was also a mutually beneficial exchange of information, and I hope that it was a fair bargain.”
“I thank you for the insights that you provided.” As they entered the lift, she decided to ask a different question. The Captain seemed to favor an alliance with the Union, but what about this equivalent of a Mizol? “Would it be impolite to ask what faction you belong to?”
“Yes, it would.” The Human chuckled, “I am merely trying to find out what the lesser of two evils is. Whoever wins this war has the chance to ascend to the level of this sector’s sole superpower. Even though we showed up somewhat late, I intend to secure the best deal for Humanity.”
Walking out of the capsule and into the garden, Emberwing thought that this was a good way of saying something without meaning anything, a habit that was very typical for the Mizol lot, “What benefits are you looking for?”
“Telepathic expertise in particular, our incompatibility notwithstanding. The vast majority of our population is fascinated with this novel, yet still limited ability. This interest also extends to our cousin race that wields it freely, and we need to manage that attraction with utmost care.” Zarjow pointed to the secluded grove, “Someone will pick you up in the evening, and if you require any further assistance, you can ask the computer. Tomorrow, we shall meet the Loroi representatives, and you can rejoin your people.”
She thanked him and sat down to read. This was indeed the last opportunity to learn more about this fascinating and overly secretive race.
[Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread
Moderator: Outsider Moderators
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Intermission G: Outgrowing the Cradle
The phenomenon, which appeared to be nothing short of magic, inspired the scientists to work even harder than ever before. Within a year, a sufficiently safe method of unlocking the psionic potential was developed by the arcology in great secret. Only then did they share this groundbreaking discovery with the others in the Endless faction, which led to its unification around the pursuit of this mysterious ability. Not wanting to be left behind, other factions quickly adopted this practice as well, and within the next ten years most leadership position were taken over by small teams of psi-enabled humans.
The psionic talents endowed the telepaths with superior capabilities that raised the efficiency of any endeavor they assumed command of. Fascinated by their superhuman abilities and in recognition of their excellent leadership qualities, the populace was eager to vote telepaths into power in order to solve a multitude of problems. The previously unappreciated politicians, reduced to be little else but mere custodians of the largely automated arcologies, were now elevated to a new height. Combining existing AI systems with telepathic insight allowed to streamline even the most complex administration efforts. The still chaotic, predominantly ad-hoc governmental structures that were formed during the turbulent encapsulation period could finally be replaced with proper ones.
The major rift between the two mainstream schools of thought remained, however. Should Humanity explore the cosmos within or the universe without? As a temporary compromise, it was decided to test both avenues simultaneously, and the construction of a huge facility on the Moon began in the year 2179. Upon its completion, it should assemble, launch and control enough drone ships to survey the entire Solar system. Meanwhile, the humans would use the time to perfect telepathic awakening techniques and develop the means of interstellar travel.
The geological surveys that were conducted in order to locate metals, and most importantly, water deposits, found something entirely different instead. Deep below the surface, between the Tsiolkovsky and Gagarin craters on the far side of the Moon, an unusually dense anomaly was located a year later. It was believed to be the core of a massive meteorite rich in valuable metals at first, but the hastily organized excavation unearthed the collapsed remains of an unmistakably artificial structure made out of strange ceramic-like materials.
The ruin was empty for the most part, apparently being evacuated before it was scuttled with an antimatter charge. But the withdrawal was conducted hastily, and the outlying, mostly intact parts of the complex contained some artifacts that were left behind. Discarded mechanisms, overlooked supply crates or just some forgotten personal belongings, even the tiniest speck of refuse was a treasure trove of information. The biggest impact upon society was the proof of the existence of extraterrestrial life. The ruins were ancient, around 300,000 years old, yet someone could still be out there. Who were the aliens, what did they do, why was the bunker abandoned hurriedly, and where did they disappear to?
The scouting facility was completed within a mere two years, five times bigger than planned, as the efforts were now driven by Humanity’s inherent curiosity. The massive exploration effort discovered many more artifacts, mostly debris strewn about the surface of Pluto or dispersed throughout the remote Kuiper belt. The technological samples helped to speed up major breakthroughs, like the development of a hyperspace drive that was still theoretical at that point.
The first interstellar jump to Alpha Centauri was conducted in 2197, and even the stars seemed now to be within reach. Emboldened by the success, an overwhelming majority favored the combination of both development paths. Humanity was rapidly waking up from the slumber of the Cybernetic Age and longed for new frontiers in all possible forms. The telepaths, understanding that the time was right, proposed to formally unify Humanity in order to face the challenges of a coming era. Guided by its newly formed psionic nobility, the Terran Empire was established in the year 2200 and thus began the Interstellar Age.
The phenomenon, which appeared to be nothing short of magic, inspired the scientists to work even harder than ever before. Within a year, a sufficiently safe method of unlocking the psionic potential was developed by the arcology in great secret. Only then did they share this groundbreaking discovery with the others in the Endless faction, which led to its unification around the pursuit of this mysterious ability. Not wanting to be left behind, other factions quickly adopted this practice as well, and within the next ten years most leadership position were taken over by small teams of psi-enabled humans.
The psionic talents endowed the telepaths with superior capabilities that raised the efficiency of any endeavor they assumed command of. Fascinated by their superhuman abilities and in recognition of their excellent leadership qualities, the populace was eager to vote telepaths into power in order to solve a multitude of problems. The previously unappreciated politicians, reduced to be little else but mere custodians of the largely automated arcologies, were now elevated to a new height. Combining existing AI systems with telepathic insight allowed to streamline even the most complex administration efforts. The still chaotic, predominantly ad-hoc governmental structures that were formed during the turbulent encapsulation period could finally be replaced with proper ones.
The major rift between the two mainstream schools of thought remained, however. Should Humanity explore the cosmos within or the universe without? As a temporary compromise, it was decided to test both avenues simultaneously, and the construction of a huge facility on the Moon began in the year 2179. Upon its completion, it should assemble, launch and control enough drone ships to survey the entire Solar system. Meanwhile, the humans would use the time to perfect telepathic awakening techniques and develop the means of interstellar travel.
The geological surveys that were conducted in order to locate metals, and most importantly, water deposits, found something entirely different instead. Deep below the surface, between the Tsiolkovsky and Gagarin craters on the far side of the Moon, an unusually dense anomaly was located a year later. It was believed to be the core of a massive meteorite rich in valuable metals at first, but the hastily organized excavation unearthed the collapsed remains of an unmistakably artificial structure made out of strange ceramic-like materials.
The ruin was empty for the most part, apparently being evacuated before it was scuttled with an antimatter charge. But the withdrawal was conducted hastily, and the outlying, mostly intact parts of the complex contained some artifacts that were left behind. Discarded mechanisms, overlooked supply crates or just some forgotten personal belongings, even the tiniest speck of refuse was a treasure trove of information. The biggest impact upon society was the proof of the existence of extraterrestrial life. The ruins were ancient, around 300,000 years old, yet someone could still be out there. Who were the aliens, what did they do, why was the bunker abandoned hurriedly, and where did they disappear to?
The scouting facility was completed within a mere two years, five times bigger than planned, as the efforts were now driven by Humanity’s inherent curiosity. The massive exploration effort discovered many more artifacts, mostly debris strewn about the surface of Pluto or dispersed throughout the remote Kuiper belt. The technological samples helped to speed up major breakthroughs, like the development of a hyperspace drive that was still theoretical at that point.
The first interstellar jump to Alpha Centauri was conducted in 2197, and even the stars seemed now to be within reach. Emboldened by the success, an overwhelming majority favored the combination of both development paths. Humanity was rapidly waking up from the slumber of the Cybernetic Age and longed for new frontiers in all possible forms. The telepaths, understanding that the time was right, proposed to formally unify Humanity in order to face the challenges of a coming era. Guided by its newly formed psionic nobility, the Terran Empire was established in the year 2200 and thus began the Interstellar Age.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XV: By the sword
Despite all the differences between Loroi and Humans, in the end, they managed to develop not entirely dissimilar governmental structures. The lecture was most likely embellishing the telepath’s abilities, but it was clear enough that they assumed the position of a ruling warrior class. Indeed, Emberwing thought, not only did the Loroi warrior castes rule over the civilians, but also over the entire Union. This resemblance should help speed up the negotiations, since comparable administrations could interface faster. On the other hand, the matter of joining the Union seemed to be highly unlikely, as the systems of government were also mutually exclusive. Therefore, an alliance should be the preferential solution right now.
What truly concerned her was the incredible speed of development that the Humans displayed. The history lesson might be downplaying the importance of the Soia artifacts, but to advance from the first fusion generators to reactionless drives over the span of mere 250 years was certainly an impressive feat. Judging from the previous story about the utterly reckless experiments with the technologies obtained from the ancient wreck, the Humans seemed to be driven by something. Was it their short lifespan or, as the lecture claimed, their curiosity? If the telepaths managed to harness this force, it may explain this speed to some degree, but a lot of questions remained. The secretive Humans would most probably refuse to provide a definite answer to them, though.
She decided to have a look at this facility instead, “Charon, can you show me the Soia ruins on the homeworld’s moon?”
“Your clearance level does permit you to look through historical data only, here is the facility in the year 2182 after it was fully excavated.” The holographic view changed to show a perspective of looking down on the surface of an airless moon. A gigantic transparent dome covered a huge man-made crater dug between two natural ones. Then, it zoomed in, and she saw the ceramic materials typical for the Soia at its bottom. What must’ve been the central part of the facility was shattered, and its fragments were now reassembled on a scaffold, yet the outlying nodes, eight in total, were still intact. The entire complex was not very big, but the research effort certainly was. Countless humans, probably numbering in the thousands, swarmed all over the place.
What was this bunker’s purpose? Such a small outpost was a rare find, since most cases of planetside ruins were the remains of entire settlements instead. The Soia lived in their humongous dread-stars and had no need for such tiny surface facilities, while their client races were mostly confined to their assigned worlds. “Charon, what was this facility’s purpose and which race did crew it?”
The response was the expected one, “I am sorry, but this information is confidential.”
“Figures,” Emberwing stood up and stretched herself. Judging by ship time, it was still too early to be picked up, and she decided to have a walk around the Arboretum. Going deeper into the woods, her ears picked up some strange sounds. On a clearing, Alexander Jardin and William Steele were actually practicing with training swords in a mock fight.
The Captain noticed her and stopped the sparring, “Hello! William convinced me to pick up fencing again, you see, and somehow, I agreed to it.”
Her clan did retain its traditional sword style and members were encouraged to pick up fencing, even though she never bothered with it beyond what was expected of her. “Does this have some cultural or practical significance?”
“No, and what good would swords even do in the age of particle weapons?” The Captain looked at the dulled weapon, “This is simply a different kind of physical exercise. In ancient times, though, all men were expected to be proficient with a weapon. The longsword was seen as special among the other weapons, symbolizing nobility and the martial prowess that this social class was based on.”
“This is fascinating in its similarity with our traditions.” Were their species truly related, after all? “Nowadays, the symbol and pride of our warrior castes is the armor that we earn through the rites of passage.”
“We do not have such symbolism, and the only thing that counts as a trial is the psionic awakening procedure. Perhaps we need a couple more centuries before we acquire all those accompanying traditions.” He put the sword on its rack, “Have you already finished reading that lecture?”
Should she point out the propaganda in that one or perhaps, better not? “It was a very interesting read. The ruin must’ve offered a great deal of technological samples for you to progress so quickly.”
“Actually, most of what would’ve been truly interesting, namely the reactor and the computer systems, were either dismantled or destroyed. We were fortunate enough to extract a sample of an ambient superconductor from a discarded spare part and some advanced circuitry from a forgotten handheld device. Most of the other stuff had long since deteriorated or was too damaged due to the antimatter blasts’ radiation pulse. Only recently did we manage to replicate the precursor building materials to a sufficient degree. It makes for excellent armor plating, even though it is still too complicated for large-scale construction efforts.” explained the Captain.
“Then, were perhaps the debris fields better sources of Soia technologies?” Why did he insist on devaluing the importance of the artifacts? Maybe the Humans did not want to share their findings?
“We surmise that the precursors used singularity reactors to generate power. In the case of catastrophic failure those would collapse and take most of the ship with them, leaving few usable debris pieces behind.” Steele had also put his sword away and joined the conversation, “Whatever weaponry they used apparently disrupted matter on a subatomic level, which didn’t allow for many leftovers to remain either. Still, merely knowing that such things are possible greatly helped to streamline our efforts.”
Emberwing could not read his mind, but this statement seemed to be too casual to be false. Most races progressed at a much slower pace, despite having access to Soia artifacts throughout their history. If this was indeed true, the Human speed of advancement was truly extraordinary, perhaps even on par with the brilliant Pipolsid. Yet, those were inherently peaceful and easily integrated into the Union. The Humans, however, appeared to be far too ambitious to join anyone, and an alliance would be the only option. Making them into an enemy, or even worse, forcing them to ally with the Hierarchy instead had to be avoided at all costs. “You seem to be able to make the best out of the apparently scant amount of artifacts that you have found.”
“Coming out of the hiatus freed up a lot of unused potential, and the telepathic awakening channeled this force into something useful.” The Captain wiped away the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve, “In order to avoid the usual infighting, we managed to direct it outwards instead.”
Apparently, this movement was still ongoing, unlike how the Loroi started out. Spacefaring was primarily developed in order to reach the other sister world of Perrein that was detected by amplifying the farseers. After finding both sister worlds, the Loroi went into a long hiatus period, with some minor colonization efforts in between. The policy of isolationism was abandoned almost 500 years later, and it took some additional 300 years to form a proper Imperial system. Would the development be any different if only a minority of Loroi were telepaths? Emberwing was now even more puzzled about the driving force that spurred Humanity, “Were you perhaps pressured by overpopulation or the environmental damage to your homeworld?”
“This is actually not that easy to put into words,” Alexander Jardin pondered for a bit, stroking his beard, “All those factors were certainly playing a role, but the most important point must’ve been our inherent curiosity. Not only were we shown that there should be other sentients out there, a whole galaxy was challenging us to explore it. A wise man once said that while Earth is the cradle of Mankind, it cannot indefinitely live in one.”
What a curious impetus indeed, thought Emberwing. “Once the proper contact with the Union is established, we can also exchange cultural information in order to deepen the understanding between our Empires.”
William Steele nodded, “Yes, tomorrow is the big day of the first contact with our long-lost cousins. Interestingly enough, there was an attempt to send a transmission from the Barsam courier, but it was quickly jammed by Loroi ships. Commander Stillstorm herself has not tried to contact us again.”
The Barsam were most certainly trying to exploit the Humans to further their own agenda. “It is merely proper that the Commander enforces the rules for such important diplomatic encounters.”
“Then I hope that it goes well.” Both Humans exchanged glances and the Captain asked her, “We are done with the exercise for now, but do you want to try it out?”
“No, thank you.” The idea of sparring with a male was far too off-putting, “I’d like to return to my cabin.”
As they left the training ground, an idea came into Emberwing’s mind. “If you are truly adept at handling swords, then equipping one for the audience may be useful. Lashret Stillstorm is very fond of exotic weapons and has a sizable collection of them.”
Alexander Jardin looked at Steele and smirked, “May I borrow that strange sword you’ve created?”
“It would be an honor.” He offered what looked like an exaggerated bow, “Equipped with my splendid sword and Zarjow’s magnificent beard, those negotiations are bound to succeed.”
“You have my thanks, then,” said the Captain with a chuckle as they entered the elevator.
“What is the significance of that sword I keep hearing about?” Was it a symbol of some kind, or merely a running joke?
Steele smiled, “This is simply a hobby of mine. Inspired by an ancient legend, I tried to create the best sword that I could possibly make.”
An interesting endeavor that may come just in time, “Then it should catch Stillstorm’s interest.”
“Sounds like a good conversation starter. I’m off reviewing diplomatic protocols and William needs to craft a matching scabbard.” said Alexander Jardin as they approached her cabin, “We wish you a good night.”
This was her final night here, and Emberwing decided to try out some of the casual clothes that were prepared in the closet. One of them caught her attention, a gown made out of a lustrous material that seemed to shimmer in the light, somewhat similar to the one Ellen Jardin wore a few days ago. Perhaps she could keep this one? Putting it aside on the recliner for now, she went to sleep.
The weird dream about that city continued at the exact same spot, and she entered the tavern. Yet this time, it was far more immersive, and she could even smell the various odors that this room was filled with. The biggest change was the ability to use sanzai, something that she did not seem to have earlier. There were no Loroi here, and the humans were, as expected, silent, but the other ones that resembled a mix between the two, were not. She sensed wariness, distrust and an inordinate amount of hostility that was directed at her, far more than an outsider would normally face.
One of those pointy-eared, yet pink-skinned males approached her. By the looks of his stained apron, he was probably working here.
“I am very sorry, but we do not serve your kind in this establishment.” His emotions were an amalgam of subdued fear and outright rejection, tingled with some disgust. “You appear to be a proper warrior, unlike the others, but I would still ask you to join your kin in the northern quarter.”
Emberwing was stupefied at his response and instinctively placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. Seeing this, the offender took a step back, now sending out nothing but fear, “I do not want any trouble, and you are most likely not aware of the customs around here. But the regulars do not want to see any clanfolk and I have to adapt to their wishes.”
“Then, I do not want the company of such narrow-minded scum either.” said Emberwing and walked out of the establishment. She recalled the mental image that the proprietor sent involuntary and headed towards the northern part of the city. Gradually, the buildings became more run-down and an ever-increasing percentage of what appeared to be Loroi civilians were inhabiting them. Finally, no other races or even guards could be seen among the ragged, gray-skinned masses that seemed to avoid her. This entire quarter was nothing more than a slum, realized Emberwing as she stood in an incredibly dirty alley, sensing weary resignation all around her.
There were exceptions to that, and someone with strong emotions was approaching her from behind. Two Loroi, probably very young, jumped at her with crude weapons in hand.
“Have you come to torment us, warmonger!”
“We just want to live in peace!”
Alerted by their hostility, she drew her sword and counterattacked without even thinking about it. The white sword proved to be an excellent weapon once again. Cutting through the air with a beautiful, melodic whistling, it bisected the first attacker and her club with frightening ease.
“NOOOO!”
She evaded the clumsy charge of the second assailant with a sidestep and beheaded him with a quick slash as he passed by. The scrawny Loroi dropped the rusty knife that he was holding in both hands, and the lifeless body collapsed into the dirt. Why would they even attempt such an idiotic ambush against an armed opponent? Both looked malnourished and were dressed in rags, so did desperation drive them to such heights of folly? After making sure that there were no other muggers around, she kneeled down to inspect the corpses in greater detail, only to realize that the second attacker was a male!
Emberwing woke up drenched in cold sweat. To harm a male was a great taboo, but they were also forbidden from even touching any weapons. Instead, it would be the warriors who wielded them in order to protect the precious males. The talk about swords yesterday was certainly not enough to trigger such horrific dreams on its own. She shook her head, perhaps the ordeal that she went through was still an open wound in her subconscious. But, what was even the point of this nightmare, or where could that imagery come from? Was this the fate of the Loroi if they were to lose the war, to be honorless refugees confined to a downtrodden slum, despised by the general populace?
Most certainly not if she could help it, she assured herself. After taking a lengthy shower to wash away the sticky sweat, she put on a fresh uniform and ordered a good meal. The unnerving feeling that the dream left behind was finally beginning to fade away, allowing her to calmly review its symbolism. The Shell incursion could certainly trigger anxiety about the war situation, or was her psyche confused by the utter absence of sanzai since the rescue? Mulling about it for some time failed to yield any results, and she elected to consult a Loroi specialist later on. A tap on her wrist comm announced the end of this contemplation:
“Charon, when will the ship arrive at the Rallis station?”
“The ship is scheduled to arrive in an hour. A pickup will be arranged soon.”
“Could I request Ellen Jardin to come, since I need to ask her something?”
“Acknowledged.”
Some time later, The Tactician entered the cabin, “You wanted to speak with me?”
Emberwing pointed at the folded gown, “I liked this one, but unfortunately, there wasn’t any occasion to wear it. Can I take it with me?”
The Human smiled, “Thank you for the praise, since this one was my own creation. I imagined myself wearing it in a dream and made several variants of it. Then I had the idea that this one would look good on you, too, so it was meant as a gift in the first place.”
“Your dreams appear to be much more pleasant than mine.” Emberwing shook her head, this was not the time nor occasion to discuss those, “It is a wonderful design, and you have my gratitude.”
“Do you have nightmares?” Ellen Jardin looked concerned, “What am I saying, that is only natural after all that you went through.”
“Thank you for worrying about me, but I am well enough until I can see a telepathic healer.” Emberwing picked up the piece of clothing in question.
“Actually, you can take everything in this closet, it was prepared for you, after all, and there’s a bag at the bottom.” pointed out Ellen Jardin.
“I shall accept your generosity, then.” She put some items in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“Stillstorm finally deigned to send us a schedule for the meeting. We’ll board a shuttle and head for the space station.” explained the Tactician as they entered the elevator. “The delegation itself will consist of Alexander, Zarjow, and two guards to mirror the other side.”
The lift doors opened to reveal a control room overlooking a spacious shuttle hangar, similar in size to the cargo bays. There were three huge, torpedo-like vessels, as well as an assortment of various shuttles anchored in the multilayered scaffolding.
The delegation members were already assembled there, and everyone was dressed in more elaborate versions of their usual uniforms. The Captain also wore a sash adorned with what must be awards. His left hand rested on the hilt of a sword that immediately drew Emberwing’s attention. Seeing her interest in it, he patted the shiny pommel, “I followed your advice and decided to bring it along. The protocol states that both delegation leaders are permitted to carry ceremonial weapons, so it was approved without a problem.”
“It is certainly a magnificent sword, and it will surely draw Stillstorm's attention.” She suppressed any anxiety in her voice and asked, “May I see it?”
“Of course,” said the Human, and drew the blade from its scabbard. It took Emberwing every last bit of her mental fortitude to not scream out at the sight of the brilliantly white sword straight out of her dream.
Despite all the differences between Loroi and Humans, in the end, they managed to develop not entirely dissimilar governmental structures. The lecture was most likely embellishing the telepath’s abilities, but it was clear enough that they assumed the position of a ruling warrior class. Indeed, Emberwing thought, not only did the Loroi warrior castes rule over the civilians, but also over the entire Union. This resemblance should help speed up the negotiations, since comparable administrations could interface faster. On the other hand, the matter of joining the Union seemed to be highly unlikely, as the systems of government were also mutually exclusive. Therefore, an alliance should be the preferential solution right now.
What truly concerned her was the incredible speed of development that the Humans displayed. The history lesson might be downplaying the importance of the Soia artifacts, but to advance from the first fusion generators to reactionless drives over the span of mere 250 years was certainly an impressive feat. Judging from the previous story about the utterly reckless experiments with the technologies obtained from the ancient wreck, the Humans seemed to be driven by something. Was it their short lifespan or, as the lecture claimed, their curiosity? If the telepaths managed to harness this force, it may explain this speed to some degree, but a lot of questions remained. The secretive Humans would most probably refuse to provide a definite answer to them, though.
She decided to have a look at this facility instead, “Charon, can you show me the Soia ruins on the homeworld’s moon?”
“Your clearance level does permit you to look through historical data only, here is the facility in the year 2182 after it was fully excavated.” The holographic view changed to show a perspective of looking down on the surface of an airless moon. A gigantic transparent dome covered a huge man-made crater dug between two natural ones. Then, it zoomed in, and she saw the ceramic materials typical for the Soia at its bottom. What must’ve been the central part of the facility was shattered, and its fragments were now reassembled on a scaffold, yet the outlying nodes, eight in total, were still intact. The entire complex was not very big, but the research effort certainly was. Countless humans, probably numbering in the thousands, swarmed all over the place.
What was this bunker’s purpose? Such a small outpost was a rare find, since most cases of planetside ruins were the remains of entire settlements instead. The Soia lived in their humongous dread-stars and had no need for such tiny surface facilities, while their client races were mostly confined to their assigned worlds. “Charon, what was this facility’s purpose and which race did crew it?”
The response was the expected one, “I am sorry, but this information is confidential.”
“Figures,” Emberwing stood up and stretched herself. Judging by ship time, it was still too early to be picked up, and she decided to have a walk around the Arboretum. Going deeper into the woods, her ears picked up some strange sounds. On a clearing, Alexander Jardin and William Steele were actually practicing with training swords in a mock fight.
The Captain noticed her and stopped the sparring, “Hello! William convinced me to pick up fencing again, you see, and somehow, I agreed to it.”
Her clan did retain its traditional sword style and members were encouraged to pick up fencing, even though she never bothered with it beyond what was expected of her. “Does this have some cultural or practical significance?”
“No, and what good would swords even do in the age of particle weapons?” The Captain looked at the dulled weapon, “This is simply a different kind of physical exercise. In ancient times, though, all men were expected to be proficient with a weapon. The longsword was seen as special among the other weapons, symbolizing nobility and the martial prowess that this social class was based on.”
“This is fascinating in its similarity with our traditions.” Were their species truly related, after all? “Nowadays, the symbol and pride of our warrior castes is the armor that we earn through the rites of passage.”
“We do not have such symbolism, and the only thing that counts as a trial is the psionic awakening procedure. Perhaps we need a couple more centuries before we acquire all those accompanying traditions.” He put the sword on its rack, “Have you already finished reading that lecture?”
Should she point out the propaganda in that one or perhaps, better not? “It was a very interesting read. The ruin must’ve offered a great deal of technological samples for you to progress so quickly.”
“Actually, most of what would’ve been truly interesting, namely the reactor and the computer systems, were either dismantled or destroyed. We were fortunate enough to extract a sample of an ambient superconductor from a discarded spare part and some advanced circuitry from a forgotten handheld device. Most of the other stuff had long since deteriorated or was too damaged due to the antimatter blasts’ radiation pulse. Only recently did we manage to replicate the precursor building materials to a sufficient degree. It makes for excellent armor plating, even though it is still too complicated for large-scale construction efforts.” explained the Captain.
“Then, were perhaps the debris fields better sources of Soia technologies?” Why did he insist on devaluing the importance of the artifacts? Maybe the Humans did not want to share their findings?
“We surmise that the precursors used singularity reactors to generate power. In the case of catastrophic failure those would collapse and take most of the ship with them, leaving few usable debris pieces behind.” Steele had also put his sword away and joined the conversation, “Whatever weaponry they used apparently disrupted matter on a subatomic level, which didn’t allow for many leftovers to remain either. Still, merely knowing that such things are possible greatly helped to streamline our efforts.”
Emberwing could not read his mind, but this statement seemed to be too casual to be false. Most races progressed at a much slower pace, despite having access to Soia artifacts throughout their history. If this was indeed true, the Human speed of advancement was truly extraordinary, perhaps even on par with the brilliant Pipolsid. Yet, those were inherently peaceful and easily integrated into the Union. The Humans, however, appeared to be far too ambitious to join anyone, and an alliance would be the only option. Making them into an enemy, or even worse, forcing them to ally with the Hierarchy instead had to be avoided at all costs. “You seem to be able to make the best out of the apparently scant amount of artifacts that you have found.”
“Coming out of the hiatus freed up a lot of unused potential, and the telepathic awakening channeled this force into something useful.” The Captain wiped away the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve, “In order to avoid the usual infighting, we managed to direct it outwards instead.”
Apparently, this movement was still ongoing, unlike how the Loroi started out. Spacefaring was primarily developed in order to reach the other sister world of Perrein that was detected by amplifying the farseers. After finding both sister worlds, the Loroi went into a long hiatus period, with some minor colonization efforts in between. The policy of isolationism was abandoned almost 500 years later, and it took some additional 300 years to form a proper Imperial system. Would the development be any different if only a minority of Loroi were telepaths? Emberwing was now even more puzzled about the driving force that spurred Humanity, “Were you perhaps pressured by overpopulation or the environmental damage to your homeworld?”
“This is actually not that easy to put into words,” Alexander Jardin pondered for a bit, stroking his beard, “All those factors were certainly playing a role, but the most important point must’ve been our inherent curiosity. Not only were we shown that there should be other sentients out there, a whole galaxy was challenging us to explore it. A wise man once said that while Earth is the cradle of Mankind, it cannot indefinitely live in one.”
What a curious impetus indeed, thought Emberwing. “Once the proper contact with the Union is established, we can also exchange cultural information in order to deepen the understanding between our Empires.”
William Steele nodded, “Yes, tomorrow is the big day of the first contact with our long-lost cousins. Interestingly enough, there was an attempt to send a transmission from the Barsam courier, but it was quickly jammed by Loroi ships. Commander Stillstorm herself has not tried to contact us again.”
The Barsam were most certainly trying to exploit the Humans to further their own agenda. “It is merely proper that the Commander enforces the rules for such important diplomatic encounters.”
“Then I hope that it goes well.” Both Humans exchanged glances and the Captain asked her, “We are done with the exercise for now, but do you want to try it out?”
“No, thank you.” The idea of sparring with a male was far too off-putting, “I’d like to return to my cabin.”
As they left the training ground, an idea came into Emberwing’s mind. “If you are truly adept at handling swords, then equipping one for the audience may be useful. Lashret Stillstorm is very fond of exotic weapons and has a sizable collection of them.”
Alexander Jardin looked at Steele and smirked, “May I borrow that strange sword you’ve created?”
“It would be an honor.” He offered what looked like an exaggerated bow, “Equipped with my splendid sword and Zarjow’s magnificent beard, those negotiations are bound to succeed.”
“You have my thanks, then,” said the Captain with a chuckle as they entered the elevator.
“What is the significance of that sword I keep hearing about?” Was it a symbol of some kind, or merely a running joke?
Steele smiled, “This is simply a hobby of mine. Inspired by an ancient legend, I tried to create the best sword that I could possibly make.”
An interesting endeavor that may come just in time, “Then it should catch Stillstorm’s interest.”
“Sounds like a good conversation starter. I’m off reviewing diplomatic protocols and William needs to craft a matching scabbard.” said Alexander Jardin as they approached her cabin, “We wish you a good night.”
This was her final night here, and Emberwing decided to try out some of the casual clothes that were prepared in the closet. One of them caught her attention, a gown made out of a lustrous material that seemed to shimmer in the light, somewhat similar to the one Ellen Jardin wore a few days ago. Perhaps she could keep this one? Putting it aside on the recliner for now, she went to sleep.
The weird dream about that city continued at the exact same spot, and she entered the tavern. Yet this time, it was far more immersive, and she could even smell the various odors that this room was filled with. The biggest change was the ability to use sanzai, something that she did not seem to have earlier. There were no Loroi here, and the humans were, as expected, silent, but the other ones that resembled a mix between the two, were not. She sensed wariness, distrust and an inordinate amount of hostility that was directed at her, far more than an outsider would normally face.
One of those pointy-eared, yet pink-skinned males approached her. By the looks of his stained apron, he was probably working here.
“I am very sorry, but we do not serve your kind in this establishment.” His emotions were an amalgam of subdued fear and outright rejection, tingled with some disgust. “You appear to be a proper warrior, unlike the others, but I would still ask you to join your kin in the northern quarter.”
Emberwing was stupefied at his response and instinctively placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. Seeing this, the offender took a step back, now sending out nothing but fear, “I do not want any trouble, and you are most likely not aware of the customs around here. But the regulars do not want to see any clanfolk and I have to adapt to their wishes.”
“Then, I do not want the company of such narrow-minded scum either.” said Emberwing and walked out of the establishment. She recalled the mental image that the proprietor sent involuntary and headed towards the northern part of the city. Gradually, the buildings became more run-down and an ever-increasing percentage of what appeared to be Loroi civilians were inhabiting them. Finally, no other races or even guards could be seen among the ragged, gray-skinned masses that seemed to avoid her. This entire quarter was nothing more than a slum, realized Emberwing as she stood in an incredibly dirty alley, sensing weary resignation all around her.
There were exceptions to that, and someone with strong emotions was approaching her from behind. Two Loroi, probably very young, jumped at her with crude weapons in hand.
“Have you come to torment us, warmonger!”
“We just want to live in peace!”
Alerted by their hostility, she drew her sword and counterattacked without even thinking about it. The white sword proved to be an excellent weapon once again. Cutting through the air with a beautiful, melodic whistling, it bisected the first attacker and her club with frightening ease.
“NOOOO!”
She evaded the clumsy charge of the second assailant with a sidestep and beheaded him with a quick slash as he passed by. The scrawny Loroi dropped the rusty knife that he was holding in both hands, and the lifeless body collapsed into the dirt. Why would they even attempt such an idiotic ambush against an armed opponent? Both looked malnourished and were dressed in rags, so did desperation drive them to such heights of folly? After making sure that there were no other muggers around, she kneeled down to inspect the corpses in greater detail, only to realize that the second attacker was a male!
Emberwing woke up drenched in cold sweat. To harm a male was a great taboo, but they were also forbidden from even touching any weapons. Instead, it would be the warriors who wielded them in order to protect the precious males. The talk about swords yesterday was certainly not enough to trigger such horrific dreams on its own. She shook her head, perhaps the ordeal that she went through was still an open wound in her subconscious. But, what was even the point of this nightmare, or where could that imagery come from? Was this the fate of the Loroi if they were to lose the war, to be honorless refugees confined to a downtrodden slum, despised by the general populace?
Most certainly not if she could help it, she assured herself. After taking a lengthy shower to wash away the sticky sweat, she put on a fresh uniform and ordered a good meal. The unnerving feeling that the dream left behind was finally beginning to fade away, allowing her to calmly review its symbolism. The Shell incursion could certainly trigger anxiety about the war situation, or was her psyche confused by the utter absence of sanzai since the rescue? Mulling about it for some time failed to yield any results, and she elected to consult a Loroi specialist later on. A tap on her wrist comm announced the end of this contemplation:
“Charon, when will the ship arrive at the Rallis station?”
“The ship is scheduled to arrive in an hour. A pickup will be arranged soon.”
“Could I request Ellen Jardin to come, since I need to ask her something?”
“Acknowledged.”
Some time later, The Tactician entered the cabin, “You wanted to speak with me?”
Emberwing pointed at the folded gown, “I liked this one, but unfortunately, there wasn’t any occasion to wear it. Can I take it with me?”
The Human smiled, “Thank you for the praise, since this one was my own creation. I imagined myself wearing it in a dream and made several variants of it. Then I had the idea that this one would look good on you, too, so it was meant as a gift in the first place.”
“Your dreams appear to be much more pleasant than mine.” Emberwing shook her head, this was not the time nor occasion to discuss those, “It is a wonderful design, and you have my gratitude.”
“Do you have nightmares?” Ellen Jardin looked concerned, “What am I saying, that is only natural after all that you went through.”
“Thank you for worrying about me, but I am well enough until I can see a telepathic healer.” Emberwing picked up the piece of clothing in question.
“Actually, you can take everything in this closet, it was prepared for you, after all, and there’s a bag at the bottom.” pointed out Ellen Jardin.
“I shall accept your generosity, then.” She put some items in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“Stillstorm finally deigned to send us a schedule for the meeting. We’ll board a shuttle and head for the space station.” explained the Tactician as they entered the elevator. “The delegation itself will consist of Alexander, Zarjow, and two guards to mirror the other side.”
The lift doors opened to reveal a control room overlooking a spacious shuttle hangar, similar in size to the cargo bays. There were three huge, torpedo-like vessels, as well as an assortment of various shuttles anchored in the multilayered scaffolding.
The delegation members were already assembled there, and everyone was dressed in more elaborate versions of their usual uniforms. The Captain also wore a sash adorned with what must be awards. His left hand rested on the hilt of a sword that immediately drew Emberwing’s attention. Seeing her interest in it, he patted the shiny pommel, “I followed your advice and decided to bring it along. The protocol states that both delegation leaders are permitted to carry ceremonial weapons, so it was approved without a problem.”
“It is certainly a magnificent sword, and it will surely draw Stillstorm's attention.” She suppressed any anxiety in her voice and asked, “May I see it?”
“Of course,” said the Human, and drew the blade from its scabbard. It took Emberwing every last bit of her mental fortitude to not scream out at the sight of the brilliantly white sword straight out of her dream.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XVI: Diplomacy
Unaware of her inner turmoil, the Captain explained the weapon's background, “Steele was somehow inspired to craft a sword from one of our ancient sagas.”
The Tactician commented on that, “I remember that he said something about seeing it in a dream, but I think that he was just playing way too much VR recently.”
“Whatever, it’s his free time after all. He named it Excalibur, from the legend of King Arthur who was given a magical sword that symbolized his right to rule by a deity, as far as I can remember.” Alexander Jardin shrugged, “I don’t think that strange spirits distributing swords could be the basis for a proper system of government, but it is merely a story, after all.”
Emberwing was still stunned as the Captain sheathed his sword, “Now that we’ve finished all preparations, let’s head to the shuttle.”
Joining up with the four of them, she walked down the gangway, desperately trying to make any sense of this matter. There were of course only so many ways to make a sword, but it was far too similar to the one from her dream to be a mere coincidence. When it first appeared in the dreamscape duel against the apparition of her dead sister, she assumed it being the manifestation of her clan’s symbol, the Starsword. This ancient sword, made from meteorite iron, was awarded to her clan’s founder, warrior Vengeance. Since her previous clan was destroyed, she chose this name for the new clan that she forged with this blade. But on second thought, this one did not resemble it that much.
A paranoid thought crept into her deliberations, did the Humans plant this image into her dream? Was this a perverse test, meant to gauge her reaction if faced with the need of killing other Loroi? No, it wasn’t truly necessary to kill those attackers, yet her dream-self did it casually, without even batting an eye. She realized that there was a strange gap between her behavior in the dream and the real her for the second time now. This setup would not be informative at all, so was it perhaps done involuntary? Or was it even initiated by the Humans in the first place, maybe it was her who barged into someone’s dream and adopted its unfamiliar setting?
Zarjow snapped her out of this overdrive by asking a question, “You seem to be very quiet, are you perhaps anxious about the reunion?”
Why should she, or did he mean something regarding the destruction of the entire group? “There shouldn’t be any problems except a lengthy debriefing.”
The Operative eyed her worryingly, “You had a startled expression as the Captain pulled out his sword, so I’m wondering whether there may be some harsh punishment for losing a battle.”
Emberwing nearly stopped in her gait, was that a cruel joke? Yet, he seemed to be genuinely concerned, so what kind of image did the Humans have about the Loroi? “I think that you are somewhat mistaken about our culture, there are no particular repercussions for defeat. Besides, it was no fault of mine and my honor is unstained.”
“Sorry for assuming,” he nodded, “In some of our ancient cultures, warriors took a personal loss of honor very seriously, up to the point of ritual suicide.”
She couldn’t decide whether this was noble or foolish, “Nowadays, there is a tradition of shearing our hair to denote a loss of honor. In the ancient past, however, some clans did have a similar custom.”
“We do not have any specific rituals concerning honor”, Zarjow showed her how to strap into the shuttle seat, “Do swords have any symbolic meaning in your culture?”
Was he probing whether they had succeeded with their telepathic intrusion? No, this was way too direct, and even a novice Mizol would be more subtle. Did that mean that this was indeed done accidentally, but then, how? “The hair-shearing is not a ritual, and we do not place any meaning on swords or weaponry in general. This blade was just very atypical, especially in coloring.”
The Operative did not seem to be perturbed in any way, “As the Captain said, Steele wanted to create something resembling a mythical sword, so he made it refract the light in a specific pattern to create the illusion of it glowing from within.”
“Did such a radiant sword truly exist?” Was this legend perhaps based upon a Soia artifact, thought Emberwing.
“It’s not even sure that the king that wielded it existed,”, Zarjow briefly explained the story, “The legend was so embellished and distorted over the centuries, that it is hard to say, but if it is indeed based on real occurrences, then the sword was most likely just a well-crafted one.”
Since the Humans did not have telepathy at the time, their retelling was bound to diverge from the original much faster. Although the oldest Loroi legends did not fare much better. Could Tempest truly command the spirits to summon storms? She doubted that Stillstorm would like to hear such a question. “We also have old legends that seem to be embellished.”
Judging from the distant echoes of sanzai, the shuttle was now approaching the Rallis station. She realized just how much she missed this, even resorting to lengthy inner monologues to fill the void. Or was her attempt to invade someone's dream also related to it? Right on cue, the Operative tilted his head, “We are about to dock, so we have to postpone our conversation until we meet again, hopefully under better circumstances.”
“Yes, I surely hope so.” She was truly curious about the mozeret template species’ homeworld and looked forward to an expedition there.
The shuttle shuddered slightly, and the Captain stood up to announce, “Let’s get going, for history needs to be made today!”
The first thing that came in sight, after passing through two airlocks, were the four Teidars that guarded the gangway. Maintaining an impeccable lotai, they seemed to be wary of the Humans.
A single Loroi greeted them, “I am Soroin Mallas Rune-Laurel, second-in-command of the Tempest, the flagship of the 51st strike group of the Imperial fleet. I will guide you to the conference room where the official conference shall take place.”
The Captain nodded, “I am Captain Alexander Jardin, in command of the exploration ship Charon of the Terran fleet. Please, lead on, I am looking forward to the meeting.”
Flanked by two of the Teidar guards, they proceeded down the broad and empty corridor. Emberwing could sense the familiar telepathic chatter all around her, the rumor mill was already going wild as it distributed images of the Humans. Most were concerned with the physical similarity, but there were also comments regarding the strange fact that a male was apparently a warrior and in command of a ship. Some of them were even utterly undiplomatic and speculated about the size of his sword.
Emberwing scoffed in sanzai, “Is this station crewed by girls?”
Rune-Laurel had to agree, “The discipline here seems to be lacking, but the reaction is not an unexpected one. The Teidars that we brought along are keeping the foolish ones at bay.”
“The chatter was indeed inevitable, and I guess it was one of the reasons why Lashret Stillstorm proposed to meet here, on the station, instead of her flagship?” She purged any other thoughts about her from the sending.
“Yes, the Lashret deemed it to be potentially disruptive regarding crew morale.” the answer contained some hints about other reasons that were not elaborated further. “Do you wish to attend the conference as an observer?”
“That would be for the best, since I can provide additional information regarding those Humans.” offered Emberwing.
“This will come in handy. Their lotai is very troublesome.” The Mallas turned around and spoke to the Humans, “This is the conference room, and our delegation is already waiting inside.”
As they walked in, the Humans were guided to a table where two Loroi already sat at, whereas the big guards assumed positions to the sides of it, mirroring the Teidar. Emberwing and Rune-Laurel took seats among those reserved for the observers, that consisted of a Barsam, a white-haired Listel and, strangely enough, a portable projector for a Historian personality construct.
Upon her inquiry, the Lashret’s assistant explained, “The Mizol insisted that those should represent the other Union races, while the Listel shall analyze and remember everything.”
The Loroi in question diverted her attention with a bit of reluctance, “I am Listel Tozet Beryl, and this is a truly fascinating encounter! Those Humans must be exceptionally powerful telepaths, if they can maintain such a perfect lotai!”
Wishing for the overly enthusiastic Listel to curb her fervor down to a more reasonable degree, she answered, “This does not appear to be a lotai, but an incompatibility of our psionic talents instead.”
This had the reverse effect on her, however, “But why, or is this caused by them being our…”
The outburst was silenced by the Mizol that was now standing up. “We agreed that this topic must not be pursued in any way.”
Her sending was sharp and precise like a knife, filtering out any unnecessary subtext, “Let us schedule a debriefing on this matter later on. Right now, I would appreciate it if you could answer any questions that might present themselves.”
With a neutral smile, she addressed everyone in Trade, “I am called Mizol Parat Sedel, and my spoken name means Tempo. One of my chief functions is diplomacy and therefore, I shall be conducting the first contact meeting with the Terran Empire on behalf of my government.”
She then introduced the other Loroi, “This is Torrai Lashret Dellasoni, which means Still-Storm. As the Commander of the 51st strike group and the highest ranked officer in this system, she holds the authority in all military matters.”
Now, it was the Human’s turn, “I am Captain Alexander Jardin, which translates to Guardian of the Garden. Being tasked with the mission of finding and contacting the Loroi Empire, I also represent my government until we can exchange permanent ambassadors. This is my diplomatic aide, Operative Alexej Zarjow, whose name means King’s Guardian.”
Stillstorm remained silent, even though she leaked a few derogatory comments in sanzai that were ignored by the Mizol as she continued after sitting down, “I hereby acknowledge your diplomatic status as a representative. Captain Mozin of the Prophet’s Reason and the Emissary shall act as witnesses on behalf of our allied races, the Barsam and Historians.”
The massive Barsam spoke in a deep bass, his emotions betraying giddy anticipation, “You see before you Rigai Mozin of the Barsam, Captain of the Prophet’s Reason. This joyous day will be long remembered, little brother.”
The weird projection of the personality construct spoke next, “This Emissary greets your Excellency on behalf of the Historians. We communicate with you through the contrivance of this personality construct that is but a meager form, transmitted here into this crude container from our more accommodating hosts on board of the Barsam courier ship. We ask your Excellency to forgive us for any lapse in decorum due to this limited instrumentality that we have to adapt to.”
The Captain stroked his beard and nodded at the Barsam, “I would describe our relationship as being distant cousins instead, if you would allow for this small clarification.” Following a growl from Mozin, that was most likely a chuckle, Alexander Jardin turned to the Historian, “You do not need to disparage your outstanding abilities, but I accept your apology in advance.” Finally, he faced the Mizol again, “I also acknowledge your status as a diplomatic representative before and on behalf of these witnesses.”
While Stillstorm was oozing ever-increasing irritation, the Mizol continued, “Following the diplomatic protocol, we can now begin our discussion in earnest. However, we have no prior knowledge about Humanity, and I would like to learn more about the official reason why you wanted to contact us.”
Alexander Jardin placed a small crystalline device on the table, and it projected the holographic image of an unknown alien, “We have learned about the existence of your Empire and the ongoing war with the Hierarchy from a group of Orgus, refugees that were fleeing from the Umiak that have suddenly annexed their territory. Alerted by this major conflict raging not far from our Empire, we decided to investigate the matter and elected to contact you first.”
The Mizol paused for a moment to check this information with the Listel, then continued, “We have no knowledge about the Orgus, but the Enemy is indeed enslaving neutral races at a rapid pace. Can you provide us with the information of this race’s whereabouts?”
The image was replaced with a starmap that showed what appeared to be the opposite edge of the Shell territory, “Those Orgus were merchants that held a monopoly on up-arm trade routes and had amassed an extensive collection of maps, some dating as far back as the Soia era. The Hierarchy wanted it all, and they did not bother with asking nicely.”
He spoke the next sentence in a more serious tone, “They have also explained that the Umiak were forced to adopt such an aggressive non-neutrality doctrine to mirror your actions.”
Both Loroi frowned at that, and the Mizol hurried to refute it, “This is of course groundless propaganda, since the Shells have subjugated other races long before that. However, it is true that following the Tithric betrayal, we can no longer accept a neutral stance from any bystanders.”
“The Tithric massacre was indeed exploited by the Hierarchy for the purpose of informational warfare aimed at the nonaligned races. We understand that your reasons were probably not as nefarious as the Umiak claim them to be, but the non-neutrality doctrine is a very serious matter that may strain our relationship before it even began.” The Human sighed, “What a heavy topic for what should’ve been a joyous family reunion.”
The Barsam Captain could no longer hold back, “I knew it, this little brother is the undeniable proof that refutes the countless falsehoods the Loroi have been spreading for…”
Not giving him the opportunity to continue, he was forced to back down due to the steely gazes of the Mizol and the two Teidars. The puppet-thing was unfazed, however, “It seems that your reputation which seems to precede you has created an impasse yet again. Such radical measures were understandable, given the circumstances, but they may do you more harm than good in this most extraordinary encounter. We would advise you to implement more flexibility regarding the application of this principle.”
Meanwhile, Emberwing came to realize what could have caused this interruption and sent to the Mizol, “The Barsam is the weak link in here, since the Humans can read him!”
The response was still calm, albeit with a suppressed tinge of irritation, “I already guessed it, and he is actively trying to make relevant information easier to read. But bringing him to the meeting was the best out of a number of bad solutions, any possible double-crossing notwithstanding.”
The Mizol then dismissed the Historian’s remark, “I appreciate your well-meant input, but we do not require your strategical analysis nor any diplomatic advice.” Then, she turned back to the Humans, “I apologize for this interruption. We are merely concerned regarding your stance in the war, since a massive Shell fleet is bound for this system.”
“The non-neutrality clause is certainly a very difficult topic, so we should discuss this incursion first.” agreed the Captain. “As per my previous offer, we can help you locate the cloaked Hierarchy fleets as a show of goodwill. This may help to dispel any remaining suspicions regarding our sincerity.”
Stillstorm’s displeasure reached a critical point, and she answered instead of the Mizol, “Sincerity?! This charade of deception has gone for long enough and the only reason I chose to even allow it, was due to this strange ship of yours. If you are indeed the one you claim to be and not an ally of the Shells nor a plot of the Historians, why are you still hiding behind this lotai?”
Alexander Jardin seemed to have anticipated this question, since his lips distorted into a faint smile, “A very interesting question that we have already discussed prior to this official meeting. If you insist on uncovering the truth, we have to come to an agreement first, which may allow us to study this phenomenon at length as partners. We have not tried to hide ourselves from you and as far as we assume, you are not doing something similar either. However, if you want to blame someone for this annoyance, then how about the Soia?”
The Lashret shot him an icy gaze, “You attempt to look like a warrior, yet you spin empty words to divert from the truth just like a Mizol would.”
“I even went through the trouble to equip a fancy sword as to adhere to your customs. Should I have dressed in the pelt of my latest kill instead, or perhaps brought along the head of my enemy upon a pike?” the Human withstood her glare.
“Trophies are the hallmark of a barbarian, not a warrior!” Stillstorm refuted this quip.
“In our culture, both concepts may overlap to a certain degree, you see.” the Captain shot her a defiant gaze in turn.
"So you dare to challenge our culture and to question our ways?" The Lashret leaned in and showed an ugly smirk.
"Just as much as you do. Or perhaps I'm challenging your definition of the word warrior and question how you attempt to measure others by your own standards." The Captain shrugged in an exaggerated manner.
"I am a warrior in the way that has defined our culture for millenia. Here, honesty is paramount and therefore, I will speak my mind as I please." Stillstorm's anger seemed to abate, even though Emberwing did not understand why.
"What a wonderful custom!" The Captain raised an eyebrow, "Then let me do it as well. Are your ancient ways truly your own, dear sister?"
"Twisting my own words against me is not worthy of a warrior, and it will not convince me of you being one." The Lashret leaned back and crossed her arms.
“A true master of the ways of warfare should be able to use any available weapon that is best suited for the engagement, even if it is speech that you seem to hold in contempt." He leaned in and focused on her, " So, for this occasion, warrior, let words be our battlefield!”
Both stared at each other for a moment, before Stillstorm suddenly laughed out loud, “I may not accept you as a warrior just yet, but you show quite some courage. Wielding words as weapons is certainly a good description of what the Mizol do, Human. Since you seem to enjoy it, you can continue to clash them with Parat Tempo at your leisure. I have more important matters to attend to.”
She stood up and looked down on the Mizol, “Inform me as soon as you have managed to secure their assistance regarding the Shell lotai, if you believe that we can trust them. I've played my part in your silly game, now it is up to you.”
The Loroi in question acknowledged it mentally and said out loud, “Then we shall resume this conference after a short break.”
The observers were led out of the room by Rune-Laurel, and the projector was carried off by a Paset. The Mizol called out to Emberwing, “I would ask you to remain nearby, since your knowledge may be needed.”
This, however, was stopped by Stillstorm, and her command tone did not allow for any objections, “No, I shall question her personally now, but she will return soon enough.”
Unaware of her inner turmoil, the Captain explained the weapon's background, “Steele was somehow inspired to craft a sword from one of our ancient sagas.”
The Tactician commented on that, “I remember that he said something about seeing it in a dream, but I think that he was just playing way too much VR recently.”
“Whatever, it’s his free time after all. He named it Excalibur, from the legend of King Arthur who was given a magical sword that symbolized his right to rule by a deity, as far as I can remember.” Alexander Jardin shrugged, “I don’t think that strange spirits distributing swords could be the basis for a proper system of government, but it is merely a story, after all.”
Emberwing was still stunned as the Captain sheathed his sword, “Now that we’ve finished all preparations, let’s head to the shuttle.”
Joining up with the four of them, she walked down the gangway, desperately trying to make any sense of this matter. There were of course only so many ways to make a sword, but it was far too similar to the one from her dream to be a mere coincidence. When it first appeared in the dreamscape duel against the apparition of her dead sister, she assumed it being the manifestation of her clan’s symbol, the Starsword. This ancient sword, made from meteorite iron, was awarded to her clan’s founder, warrior Vengeance. Since her previous clan was destroyed, she chose this name for the new clan that she forged with this blade. But on second thought, this one did not resemble it that much.
A paranoid thought crept into her deliberations, did the Humans plant this image into her dream? Was this a perverse test, meant to gauge her reaction if faced with the need of killing other Loroi? No, it wasn’t truly necessary to kill those attackers, yet her dream-self did it casually, without even batting an eye. She realized that there was a strange gap between her behavior in the dream and the real her for the second time now. This setup would not be informative at all, so was it perhaps done involuntary? Or was it even initiated by the Humans in the first place, maybe it was her who barged into someone’s dream and adopted its unfamiliar setting?
Zarjow snapped her out of this overdrive by asking a question, “You seem to be very quiet, are you perhaps anxious about the reunion?”
Why should she, or did he mean something regarding the destruction of the entire group? “There shouldn’t be any problems except a lengthy debriefing.”
The Operative eyed her worryingly, “You had a startled expression as the Captain pulled out his sword, so I’m wondering whether there may be some harsh punishment for losing a battle.”
Emberwing nearly stopped in her gait, was that a cruel joke? Yet, he seemed to be genuinely concerned, so what kind of image did the Humans have about the Loroi? “I think that you are somewhat mistaken about our culture, there are no particular repercussions for defeat. Besides, it was no fault of mine and my honor is unstained.”
“Sorry for assuming,” he nodded, “In some of our ancient cultures, warriors took a personal loss of honor very seriously, up to the point of ritual suicide.”
She couldn’t decide whether this was noble or foolish, “Nowadays, there is a tradition of shearing our hair to denote a loss of honor. In the ancient past, however, some clans did have a similar custom.”
“We do not have any specific rituals concerning honor”, Zarjow showed her how to strap into the shuttle seat, “Do swords have any symbolic meaning in your culture?”
Was he probing whether they had succeeded with their telepathic intrusion? No, this was way too direct, and even a novice Mizol would be more subtle. Did that mean that this was indeed done accidentally, but then, how? “The hair-shearing is not a ritual, and we do not place any meaning on swords or weaponry in general. This blade was just very atypical, especially in coloring.”
The Operative did not seem to be perturbed in any way, “As the Captain said, Steele wanted to create something resembling a mythical sword, so he made it refract the light in a specific pattern to create the illusion of it glowing from within.”
“Did such a radiant sword truly exist?” Was this legend perhaps based upon a Soia artifact, thought Emberwing.
“It’s not even sure that the king that wielded it existed,”, Zarjow briefly explained the story, “The legend was so embellished and distorted over the centuries, that it is hard to say, but if it is indeed based on real occurrences, then the sword was most likely just a well-crafted one.”
Since the Humans did not have telepathy at the time, their retelling was bound to diverge from the original much faster. Although the oldest Loroi legends did not fare much better. Could Tempest truly command the spirits to summon storms? She doubted that Stillstorm would like to hear such a question. “We also have old legends that seem to be embellished.”
Judging from the distant echoes of sanzai, the shuttle was now approaching the Rallis station. She realized just how much she missed this, even resorting to lengthy inner monologues to fill the void. Or was her attempt to invade someone's dream also related to it? Right on cue, the Operative tilted his head, “We are about to dock, so we have to postpone our conversation until we meet again, hopefully under better circumstances.”
“Yes, I surely hope so.” She was truly curious about the mozeret template species’ homeworld and looked forward to an expedition there.
The shuttle shuddered slightly, and the Captain stood up to announce, “Let’s get going, for history needs to be made today!”
The first thing that came in sight, after passing through two airlocks, were the four Teidars that guarded the gangway. Maintaining an impeccable lotai, they seemed to be wary of the Humans.
A single Loroi greeted them, “I am Soroin Mallas Rune-Laurel, second-in-command of the Tempest, the flagship of the 51st strike group of the Imperial fleet. I will guide you to the conference room where the official conference shall take place.”
The Captain nodded, “I am Captain Alexander Jardin, in command of the exploration ship Charon of the Terran fleet. Please, lead on, I am looking forward to the meeting.”
Flanked by two of the Teidar guards, they proceeded down the broad and empty corridor. Emberwing could sense the familiar telepathic chatter all around her, the rumor mill was already going wild as it distributed images of the Humans. Most were concerned with the physical similarity, but there were also comments regarding the strange fact that a male was apparently a warrior and in command of a ship. Some of them were even utterly undiplomatic and speculated about the size of his sword.
Emberwing scoffed in sanzai, “Is this station crewed by girls?”
Rune-Laurel had to agree, “The discipline here seems to be lacking, but the reaction is not an unexpected one. The Teidars that we brought along are keeping the foolish ones at bay.”
“The chatter was indeed inevitable, and I guess it was one of the reasons why Lashret Stillstorm proposed to meet here, on the station, instead of her flagship?” She purged any other thoughts about her from the sending.
“Yes, the Lashret deemed it to be potentially disruptive regarding crew morale.” the answer contained some hints about other reasons that were not elaborated further. “Do you wish to attend the conference as an observer?”
“That would be for the best, since I can provide additional information regarding those Humans.” offered Emberwing.
“This will come in handy. Their lotai is very troublesome.” The Mallas turned around and spoke to the Humans, “This is the conference room, and our delegation is already waiting inside.”
As they walked in, the Humans were guided to a table where two Loroi already sat at, whereas the big guards assumed positions to the sides of it, mirroring the Teidar. Emberwing and Rune-Laurel took seats among those reserved for the observers, that consisted of a Barsam, a white-haired Listel and, strangely enough, a portable projector for a Historian personality construct.
Upon her inquiry, the Lashret’s assistant explained, “The Mizol insisted that those should represent the other Union races, while the Listel shall analyze and remember everything.”
The Loroi in question diverted her attention with a bit of reluctance, “I am Listel Tozet Beryl, and this is a truly fascinating encounter! Those Humans must be exceptionally powerful telepaths, if they can maintain such a perfect lotai!”
Wishing for the overly enthusiastic Listel to curb her fervor down to a more reasonable degree, she answered, “This does not appear to be a lotai, but an incompatibility of our psionic talents instead.”
This had the reverse effect on her, however, “But why, or is this caused by them being our…”
The outburst was silenced by the Mizol that was now standing up. “We agreed that this topic must not be pursued in any way.”
Her sending was sharp and precise like a knife, filtering out any unnecessary subtext, “Let us schedule a debriefing on this matter later on. Right now, I would appreciate it if you could answer any questions that might present themselves.”
With a neutral smile, she addressed everyone in Trade, “I am called Mizol Parat Sedel, and my spoken name means Tempo. One of my chief functions is diplomacy and therefore, I shall be conducting the first contact meeting with the Terran Empire on behalf of my government.”
She then introduced the other Loroi, “This is Torrai Lashret Dellasoni, which means Still-Storm. As the Commander of the 51st strike group and the highest ranked officer in this system, she holds the authority in all military matters.”
Now, it was the Human’s turn, “I am Captain Alexander Jardin, which translates to Guardian of the Garden. Being tasked with the mission of finding and contacting the Loroi Empire, I also represent my government until we can exchange permanent ambassadors. This is my diplomatic aide, Operative Alexej Zarjow, whose name means King’s Guardian.”
Stillstorm remained silent, even though she leaked a few derogatory comments in sanzai that were ignored by the Mizol as she continued after sitting down, “I hereby acknowledge your diplomatic status as a representative. Captain Mozin of the Prophet’s Reason and the Emissary shall act as witnesses on behalf of our allied races, the Barsam and Historians.”
The massive Barsam spoke in a deep bass, his emotions betraying giddy anticipation, “You see before you Rigai Mozin of the Barsam, Captain of the Prophet’s Reason. This joyous day will be long remembered, little brother.”
The weird projection of the personality construct spoke next, “This Emissary greets your Excellency on behalf of the Historians. We communicate with you through the contrivance of this personality construct that is but a meager form, transmitted here into this crude container from our more accommodating hosts on board of the Barsam courier ship. We ask your Excellency to forgive us for any lapse in decorum due to this limited instrumentality that we have to adapt to.”
The Captain stroked his beard and nodded at the Barsam, “I would describe our relationship as being distant cousins instead, if you would allow for this small clarification.” Following a growl from Mozin, that was most likely a chuckle, Alexander Jardin turned to the Historian, “You do not need to disparage your outstanding abilities, but I accept your apology in advance.” Finally, he faced the Mizol again, “I also acknowledge your status as a diplomatic representative before and on behalf of these witnesses.”
While Stillstorm was oozing ever-increasing irritation, the Mizol continued, “Following the diplomatic protocol, we can now begin our discussion in earnest. However, we have no prior knowledge about Humanity, and I would like to learn more about the official reason why you wanted to contact us.”
Alexander Jardin placed a small crystalline device on the table, and it projected the holographic image of an unknown alien, “We have learned about the existence of your Empire and the ongoing war with the Hierarchy from a group of Orgus, refugees that were fleeing from the Umiak that have suddenly annexed their territory. Alerted by this major conflict raging not far from our Empire, we decided to investigate the matter and elected to contact you first.”
The Mizol paused for a moment to check this information with the Listel, then continued, “We have no knowledge about the Orgus, but the Enemy is indeed enslaving neutral races at a rapid pace. Can you provide us with the information of this race’s whereabouts?”
The image was replaced with a starmap that showed what appeared to be the opposite edge of the Shell territory, “Those Orgus were merchants that held a monopoly on up-arm trade routes and had amassed an extensive collection of maps, some dating as far back as the Soia era. The Hierarchy wanted it all, and they did not bother with asking nicely.”
He spoke the next sentence in a more serious tone, “They have also explained that the Umiak were forced to adopt such an aggressive non-neutrality doctrine to mirror your actions.”
Both Loroi frowned at that, and the Mizol hurried to refute it, “This is of course groundless propaganda, since the Shells have subjugated other races long before that. However, it is true that following the Tithric betrayal, we can no longer accept a neutral stance from any bystanders.”
“The Tithric massacre was indeed exploited by the Hierarchy for the purpose of informational warfare aimed at the nonaligned races. We understand that your reasons were probably not as nefarious as the Umiak claim them to be, but the non-neutrality doctrine is a very serious matter that may strain our relationship before it even began.” The Human sighed, “What a heavy topic for what should’ve been a joyous family reunion.”
The Barsam Captain could no longer hold back, “I knew it, this little brother is the undeniable proof that refutes the countless falsehoods the Loroi have been spreading for…”
Not giving him the opportunity to continue, he was forced to back down due to the steely gazes of the Mizol and the two Teidars. The puppet-thing was unfazed, however, “It seems that your reputation which seems to precede you has created an impasse yet again. Such radical measures were understandable, given the circumstances, but they may do you more harm than good in this most extraordinary encounter. We would advise you to implement more flexibility regarding the application of this principle.”
Meanwhile, Emberwing came to realize what could have caused this interruption and sent to the Mizol, “The Barsam is the weak link in here, since the Humans can read him!”
The response was still calm, albeit with a suppressed tinge of irritation, “I already guessed it, and he is actively trying to make relevant information easier to read. But bringing him to the meeting was the best out of a number of bad solutions, any possible double-crossing notwithstanding.”
The Mizol then dismissed the Historian’s remark, “I appreciate your well-meant input, but we do not require your strategical analysis nor any diplomatic advice.” Then, she turned back to the Humans, “I apologize for this interruption. We are merely concerned regarding your stance in the war, since a massive Shell fleet is bound for this system.”
“The non-neutrality clause is certainly a very difficult topic, so we should discuss this incursion first.” agreed the Captain. “As per my previous offer, we can help you locate the cloaked Hierarchy fleets as a show of goodwill. This may help to dispel any remaining suspicions regarding our sincerity.”
Stillstorm’s displeasure reached a critical point, and she answered instead of the Mizol, “Sincerity?! This charade of deception has gone for long enough and the only reason I chose to even allow it, was due to this strange ship of yours. If you are indeed the one you claim to be and not an ally of the Shells nor a plot of the Historians, why are you still hiding behind this lotai?”
Alexander Jardin seemed to have anticipated this question, since his lips distorted into a faint smile, “A very interesting question that we have already discussed prior to this official meeting. If you insist on uncovering the truth, we have to come to an agreement first, which may allow us to study this phenomenon at length as partners. We have not tried to hide ourselves from you and as far as we assume, you are not doing something similar either. However, if you want to blame someone for this annoyance, then how about the Soia?”
The Lashret shot him an icy gaze, “You attempt to look like a warrior, yet you spin empty words to divert from the truth just like a Mizol would.”
“I even went through the trouble to equip a fancy sword as to adhere to your customs. Should I have dressed in the pelt of my latest kill instead, or perhaps brought along the head of my enemy upon a pike?” the Human withstood her glare.
“Trophies are the hallmark of a barbarian, not a warrior!” Stillstorm refuted this quip.
“In our culture, both concepts may overlap to a certain degree, you see.” the Captain shot her a defiant gaze in turn.
"So you dare to challenge our culture and to question our ways?" The Lashret leaned in and showed an ugly smirk.
"Just as much as you do. Or perhaps I'm challenging your definition of the word warrior and question how you attempt to measure others by your own standards." The Captain shrugged in an exaggerated manner.
"I am a warrior in the way that has defined our culture for millenia. Here, honesty is paramount and therefore, I will speak my mind as I please." Stillstorm's anger seemed to abate, even though Emberwing did not understand why.
"What a wonderful custom!" The Captain raised an eyebrow, "Then let me do it as well. Are your ancient ways truly your own, dear sister?"
"Twisting my own words against me is not worthy of a warrior, and it will not convince me of you being one." The Lashret leaned back and crossed her arms.
“A true master of the ways of warfare should be able to use any available weapon that is best suited for the engagement, even if it is speech that you seem to hold in contempt." He leaned in and focused on her, " So, for this occasion, warrior, let words be our battlefield!”
Both stared at each other for a moment, before Stillstorm suddenly laughed out loud, “I may not accept you as a warrior just yet, but you show quite some courage. Wielding words as weapons is certainly a good description of what the Mizol do, Human. Since you seem to enjoy it, you can continue to clash them with Parat Tempo at your leisure. I have more important matters to attend to.”
She stood up and looked down on the Mizol, “Inform me as soon as you have managed to secure their assistance regarding the Shell lotai, if you believe that we can trust them. I've played my part in your silly game, now it is up to you.”
The Loroi in question acknowledged it mentally and said out loud, “Then we shall resume this conference after a short break.”
The observers were led out of the room by Rune-Laurel, and the projector was carried off by a Paset. The Mizol called out to Emberwing, “I would ask you to remain nearby, since your knowledge may be needed.”
This, however, was stopped by Stillstorm, and her command tone did not allow for any objections, “No, I shall question her personally now, but she will return soon enough.”
Last edited by Cthulhu on Wed Nov 10, 2021 6:10 pm, edited 3 times in total.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Intermission H: The calm before the storm
Torrai Tazites Duskcrown, Commander of the Tinza sector, was going through a staggering amount of documents. Despite her many aides that sorted out the less important ones, the remaining number was still overwhelming. Sometimes, she wondered if she was actually fighting all that paperwork more often than the Shells. Yet, it was them that caused this increase in the amount of reports.
First, there were sightings of Enemy fleets evading farsight. Then, starting with the 25th strike group vanishing mysteriously, four others followed suit within the span of mere 8 days. She did not have enough ships to set up pickets everywhere or to check every group’s disappearance. The only thing within her ability was to send the 51st in order to investigate at least one of those cases. This elite group was too under-strength to return to raider duty and with the next batch of reinforcements being delayed yet again, she ordered them to look into the cause of this worrying development. They should’ve crossed the Rallis system by now, and it would take them about 20 days to return with the most likely grim report.
A new message appeared on her screen and alerted by its sender, Mizol Torimor Silvermist, she read it immediately. The contents were quite troubling, a Farseer had followed up on Stillstorm’s group and was alerted that it stopped all of a sudden instead of jumping out of Rallis. Then, two ships were sent into the next system and upon their swift return, the whole group retreated towards the Rallis station with great haste. Having scouts jump ahead of the main force was a standard tactic for advancing through contested territory, which this unimportant system was certainly not. Did her excellent insight or, perhaps, infamous paranoia, led to this normally unnecessary reassurance?
Before she could ask the Mizol to come in person, she already picked up her sanzai, which was somehow directed without giving away her exact position, “My Admiral, the Elder Farseer Eight Eye had continued doing sweeps to look for any other strange signs, and this time, her extraordinary ability helped her to spot this movement, which a less experienced farseer would’ve missed. There are not many encounters that could force Lashret Stillstorm to abandon her mission.”
“After the disappearance of the Beio Bainnen-7 station that she noticed yesterday, I had hoped that there wouldn’t be any other troublesome reports.” replied Duskcrown, before chiding her in mock anger, “And would you stop hiding when sanzaing, you damn Trickster, we are too old for those silly diral pranks.”
“Sorry, force of habit,” the reply came from the corridor, “the possibility of a hidden Shell force stabbing us from behind made me switch into lotai mode.”
“At this point it’s not an if, but rather, how many,” Duskcrown heaved a sigh and sent to her adjutant next, “Dispatch a courier to Nezel and have them raise the readiness level of the reserve fleet. Also, let that annoying Mizol in.”
“Rude as always,” Silvermist took a seat, “You don’t have to pretend to dislike me just because I’m a Mizol. That idiocy is reserved for the traditionalists.”
“I dislike every one of my subordinates relative to the amount of problems they cause,” sneered the Tazites, “It just so happens that your position makes you the trouble-bringer number one, and it has nothing to do with politics.”
“Direct your flames of ire, not at the fleetfoot courier, but let them become the calmest waters, that shall rear your inner balance.” rhymed the Mizol.
“Citing Barsam poetry is an all-time low, even for you!” chuckled Duskcrown, before continuing in her usual tone, “If this incursion is serious enough to force Stillstorm to retreat, then I shall send her two divisions.”
“Is the situation really that bad?” The Torimor tilted her head.
“I had a bad feeling about this whole matter ever since the Husks managed to hide from our farsight, but this time, it’s even worse.” nodded the Commander, “Besides, sitting in this damn citadel all day and doing nothing but paperwork is driving me crazy. Let’s leave a division here at Azimol and have the rest of my fleet jump to Enedd. This way, we can provide timely reinforcements to Leido or Sala, since the Shells might attempt a multipronged assault.”
Torrai Tazites Duskcrown, Commander of the Tinza sector, was going through a staggering amount of documents. Despite her many aides that sorted out the less important ones, the remaining number was still overwhelming. Sometimes, she wondered if she was actually fighting all that paperwork more often than the Shells. Yet, it was them that caused this increase in the amount of reports.
First, there were sightings of Enemy fleets evading farsight. Then, starting with the 25th strike group vanishing mysteriously, four others followed suit within the span of mere 8 days. She did not have enough ships to set up pickets everywhere or to check every group’s disappearance. The only thing within her ability was to send the 51st in order to investigate at least one of those cases. This elite group was too under-strength to return to raider duty and with the next batch of reinforcements being delayed yet again, she ordered them to look into the cause of this worrying development. They should’ve crossed the Rallis system by now, and it would take them about 20 days to return with the most likely grim report.
A new message appeared on her screen and alerted by its sender, Mizol Torimor Silvermist, she read it immediately. The contents were quite troubling, a Farseer had followed up on Stillstorm’s group and was alerted that it stopped all of a sudden instead of jumping out of Rallis. Then, two ships were sent into the next system and upon their swift return, the whole group retreated towards the Rallis station with great haste. Having scouts jump ahead of the main force was a standard tactic for advancing through contested territory, which this unimportant system was certainly not. Did her excellent insight or, perhaps, infamous paranoia, led to this normally unnecessary reassurance?
Before she could ask the Mizol to come in person, she already picked up her sanzai, which was somehow directed without giving away her exact position, “My Admiral, the Elder Farseer Eight Eye had continued doing sweeps to look for any other strange signs, and this time, her extraordinary ability helped her to spot this movement, which a less experienced farseer would’ve missed. There are not many encounters that could force Lashret Stillstorm to abandon her mission.”
“After the disappearance of the Beio Bainnen-7 station that she noticed yesterday, I had hoped that there wouldn’t be any other troublesome reports.” replied Duskcrown, before chiding her in mock anger, “And would you stop hiding when sanzaing, you damn Trickster, we are too old for those silly diral pranks.”
“Sorry, force of habit,” the reply came from the corridor, “the possibility of a hidden Shell force stabbing us from behind made me switch into lotai mode.”
“At this point it’s not an if, but rather, how many,” Duskcrown heaved a sigh and sent to her adjutant next, “Dispatch a courier to Nezel and have them raise the readiness level of the reserve fleet. Also, let that annoying Mizol in.”
“Rude as always,” Silvermist took a seat, “You don’t have to pretend to dislike me just because I’m a Mizol. That idiocy is reserved for the traditionalists.”
“I dislike every one of my subordinates relative to the amount of problems they cause,” sneered the Tazites, “It just so happens that your position makes you the trouble-bringer number one, and it has nothing to do with politics.”
“Direct your flames of ire, not at the fleetfoot courier, but let them become the calmest waters, that shall rear your inner balance.” rhymed the Mizol.
“Citing Barsam poetry is an all-time low, even for you!” chuckled Duskcrown, before continuing in her usual tone, “If this incursion is serious enough to force Stillstorm to retreat, then I shall send her two divisions.”
“Is the situation really that bad?” The Torimor tilted her head.
“I had a bad feeling about this whole matter ever since the Husks managed to hide from our farsight, but this time, it’s even worse.” nodded the Commander, “Besides, sitting in this damn citadel all day and doing nothing but paperwork is driving me crazy. Let’s leave a division here at Azimol and have the rest of my fleet jump to Enedd. This way, we can provide timely reinforcements to Leido or Sala, since the Shells might attempt a multipronged assault.”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XVII: The Rivalry
Stillstorm walked down the corridor at a brisk pace and Emberwing followed her, somewhat puzzled about the outburst.
“That pink alien man-thing certainly has enough courage to call me a barbarian and to question our warrior culture!” The Commander sensed her confusion, “The other races often perceive us a such, even if they try their best to hide it. But to boldly challenge it right away was a good show of a warrior’s spirit that I can acknowledge. Besides, its audacity was also quite amusing, because at our core, we are indeed the most ferocious beasts out there, only partially tamed by our caste system and the Union.”
“I did not perceive it as a philosophical question.” wondered Emberwing.
“The Mizol ways of twisting words are rubbing off on me, enough to understand what that alien was implying.” the Lashret continued in a reminiscent tone, “It’s been 45 years since the last time that I debated philosophy with a male, and the result was a fine warrior that I’m still proud of.”
Arriving at a door guarded by a red-haired Teidar, she beckoned Emberwing to enter and to sit down, then started to explain, “This charade of inviting those witnesses was rather annoying, and it did not serve the purpose that the Mizol intended them for anyway, thus I had to disperse the meeting in the manner that I’m well known for. Tempo will be able to talk with those aliens far more efficiently without any interference now, and I trust that the Emperor had chosen one of her best to support me.” The last part was oozing with sarcasm, then she switched back to her powerful command tone: “Enough of this lecture, give me a quick overview.”
Emberwing gave her a shortened report about the Shell ambush and all the things that transpired after that. Stillstorm nodded, “The Humans have provided us with a report that is surprisingly accurate, and I’ve sent scouts to inspect the Shell armada. It is indeed highly likely that there are other gatecrasher fleets underway, and a courier was already dispatched to warn Azimol of this incursion. Since we can’t hold Rallis, my group will jump back to Leido after we’ve finished evacuating this station here.”
“What of the Humans? They have offered us their aid in spotting the cloaked Shell fleets.” began Emberwing.
“If you want to offer me any advice, you need to provide a good reasoning behind it as well.” answered the Lashret with annoyance due to the interruption. “If it wasn’t for the Shell armada, I wouldn’t have deemed it necessary to even meet with those strange aliens, this is the task of the Mizol. Normally, their ship should’ve been escorted to the Azimol citadel for the Torimor there to deal with. But with the situation as it is, can I really trust them to help us in earnest? They claim to be telepathic, yet they hide behind a perfect lotai and are even invisible to our farseers. This is not just the comparatively minor issue of perceived dishonesty, it is a far more troubling ability.”
Emberwing decided to clarify this, “It is not a lotai, but some kind of mutual incompatibility between us. I’ve tried to connect with them a number of times, and it did not feel like a lotai at all.”
“They’ve already explained this at length and the Listel are busy analyzing it. Yet it doesn’t mean anything if the Humans are actually capable of reading us, but are simply lying while hiding behind whatever mind-shield that is.” the Commander smiled faintly, “Is this how the other races must feel regarding our abilities? The universe certainly has a weird sense of humor, challenging us with such a strange mirror image in these dire times.”
“Do you truly believe that those Humans are our template species?” Why would a traditionalist even consider this?
Stillstorm raised an eyebrow, “Judging from the information that they have sent us, it is the most logical conclusion, any political implications notwithstanding. It is far too elaborate to be a setup or a trick. I’ve also got a grasp of this Captain’s personality, and it seems to be genuine enough. What I’m concerned about are their true goals and allegiances.”
“The Humans haven’t contacted the Shells yet, and they want an alliance with us.” explained Emberwing.
“They display an ability that is not too dissimilar to what the Shells have acquired just recently. I can’t see any benefits for them to dispatch a ship ahead of the armada to contact us directly if they are also supporting the Enemy, but it is still too much of a coincidence. Which means that I’ll be playing along with whatever game they are plotting, but I won’t trust them until they have proven themselves to the Union. You are far too naive, girl.” smirked the Lashret.
“I’m a proper Soroin Torret!” she flared up at this implied insult. Did this Witch truly transfer that old grudge over to her?
This seemed to leak through, and it caused the older Loroi to laugh out loud, again, “Unintended humor seems to be a good way to relieve stress! Old grudge? That’s a hilarious misinterpretation!”
The younger Loroi blinked in confusion, “But Lashret Truesword hinted at a prolonged rivalry between you two on several occasions?”
“Grudges and rivalry are two entirely different concepts. She was my favorite rival and a great help in direst times, although I do resent her now a bit, since she did win that last wager with me.” her tone became a tiny bit softer.
“Wager?” Emberwing was now intrigued, “What kind of, and what would’ve been the prize?”
The other Loroi stared at her, “You.”
“Me? I suppose I am the last remnant of the 25th strike group, but in what way?” This matter was not only becoming more mysterious, but also more unsettling.
“Don’t worry, it is nothing detestable, so don’t try to imagine strange scenarios. Since I lost that bet, it’s my last duty to Truesword to explain it all to you now.”
Stillstorm leaned back and continued in a more relaxed tone, “It started way back, at the beginning of the war. We were both promising and ambitious Torrai assigned to the same fleet, full of fighting spirit and driven by the desire to prove ourselves. Challenging each other to do our best, we fought the Shells with naive zeal, up until the fateful battle of Tasinei Ways.”
Her tone turned grim, “I’m sure you know what happened there, since it is one of the things I’m quite infamous for. I’ve lost my honor, my daughters, my ship, my crew, my friends, my beloved commander and everything else, too.”
A deep-seated feeling of loss and regret flashed through her sending for a heartbeat. “Perhaps you can understand this feeling to a small degree?”
She continued with her tale, “I was a wreck, both inside and outside, and the healers struggled to keep it all together. Then, Truesword showed up and dared to belittle me for being so weak, going as far as to use speech, while refusing to sanzai. She laughed at the hair that I’ve shorn in rage and asked me if I needed help polishing my shiny scalp! She scorned me for the long vacation that I was apparently enjoying and boasted about her victories!”
“That is certainly enough to create a lifelong enmity.” agreed Emberwing.
“On the contrary, this provocation managed to wake me up from my stupor. She kept mocking me until I was furious enough to crawl out of my bed to strangle her!” She chuckled, “It turned out that this was a strategy proposed by the healer that wanted to prepare me for a radical therapy, the mindscape duel, since nothing else seemed to work.”
“The Stormcalmer technique?” This was quite the coincidence!
“Yes, a truly barbaric and very Loroi means of solving problems, with violence. Just challenge whatever is bothering you to a fight, what an easy way out!” she slapped the table, “Contrary to how ridiculous this sounds, it worked, and after fighting her mental image in a trance that the healer induced, I finally began to recover. Before returning to duty, since she overtaxed her leave almost up to the point of a court-martial, Truesword issued a last challenge. Whoever dies battling the Shells first, wins.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense?” No matter if this, or the other way around, it was a foolish wager.
“Indeed, but she wanted me to return as fast as possible, and I was certainly very eager to die in battle. The war situation was also dire and offered plenty of opportunity. Thankfully, I realized the folly of such an absurd goal quickly enough to avoid any suicidal charges. To this day, I do my best as not to win, even though the temptation is still strong.” nodded the Commander.
“That was a,” she wasn’t even sure how to reply, “very personal tale, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Well, every wager needs a prize, and later on, we agreed that should she win, I’ll continue to tutor any of her pupils in her stead.” The Lashret smiled impishly, “And she insisted that I had to retell this embarrassing story so that I would wish that I died instead.”
Utterly flabbergasted, Emberwing tried to process the various implications of this development and replied with the first one that came to mind, “But what about your and mine political associations?”
“This doesn’t matter right now and your clan is still part of the Axis faction.” she dismissed this with a heartfelt disdain for politics.
“For your first assignment, go and assist Tempo in the negotiations. The idea of the Mizol’s mindtricks being rendered ineffective is certainly amusing, but I need to know if those Humans can be trusted. Truesword described you as very bright and promising, so put those abilities to work. It will be a good exercise regarding how to handle a Mizol, too, something that every Torrai must learn. After that, both of you shall report to me. Dismissed!”
Still dazed, she walked back to the conference room. Apparently, very little of what she knew or imagined knowing about Stillstorm proved to be true. For the taciturn and composed Truesword to become friends with the brash Stillstorm? Or was she different back then? The philosophical side of hers was the most surprising part. Loroi history was indeed vicious, and she saw Alexander Jardin’s remark in a new light. They must’ve exchanged cultural information before the meeting, and she wondered what foolery the Loroi package consisted of. For the upstart Humans, who almost destroyed themselves, to see the Loroi as barbaric?
As she got closer to the chamber the Mizol should be in, she heard her pinpoint sending from under a lotai, “You’re done with the debriefing already? Then proceed to the adjacent room, I will consult with you if any questions present themselves.”
She got inside a small cabin and sat down beside the Listel, who activated an additional console for her. It showed the conference room with the Humans, Tempo and another Mizol. Soon enough, the Parat contacted her again, “Captain Jardin told me that you’ve explained the usage of the amplifiers.”
Sensing the slightly accusatory tone, she replied with a strict dismissal, “I’ve done this to ensure their cooperation regarding the inspection of the Shell wreck, and it proved to be the right course of action. Maybe they can even give it to us, together with the Shell corpses, this should be quite insightful.” She sent her the mental image of the wreck and the compiled data.
“We don’t have enough storage space for all this scrap, their ship is simply absurdly big.” On the screen, she saw the Mizol asking Captain Jardin for information regarding the Shell ship. The small projector device on the table displayed a Type-Z light destroyer, then switched over to a schematic view highlighting the salvaged parts. “Their ability to operate devices without direct input is quite novel. We are still running scans to see whether they are cyborgs, but so far, they appear to be alive, despite the psionic silence.”
“The Human told me that some of their implants give them this capability, a by-product of how they unlocked their telepathy.” commented Emberwing.
“The information they’ve sent us did not contain that bit. I’d rather debrief you first, then meet with them, but we do not have enough time.” answered the Mizol Parat.
The Listel was fascinated by this, “To unlock their slumbering telepathy with such radical measures!”
She continued with a directed sending, “Parat Tempo doesn’t want anyone to discuss the possibility of the Humans being our template species, but it is too obvious! It is a pity that we cannot sanzai with each other, though.”
This was interrupted by a sharp rebuke, “I can still hear you gossiping, stop it.”
Judging from how the Mizol invaded their conversation without her feeling the interference this should’ve caused or the lotai wavering in any way, it was the other one that maintained a shield for the two of them, skillfully opening a channel only if it was needed. This made her recall the Captain’s sword that appeared in her dream, “Your tricks reminded me of something, any lotai can be bypassed if one understands how it works. There might be a way to read them, after all.”
“Good job noticing that. Maybe you should've joined the Mizol caste instead.” Was this supposed to be an insult or ill-worded praise? “We are about to take a break, and you can explain this matter to me then.”
After a short while, the Mizol Parat entered the cabin, “Beryl, analyze the data about the Shell ship that the Humans have sent us. Torret Emberwing, please come with me.” They went to another cabin that was being guarded by the Parat’s silent lotai assistant.
“Good, we can now speak undisturbed. What is the matter that you wanted to discuss?” sent the Mizol inquiringly.
Emberwing steeled her mental shields just in case and began explaining, “During my stay on the Human ship, I had a series of very strange dreams, filled with alien imagery. At first, I thought that it was caused the by the physical or, perhaps, mental damage. Then, I had quite the epiphany as the Human Captain suddenly brought along a sword which I had previously seen in a dream.”
This caused the Mizol to perk up, “You mean the one that he had with him? Have they planted its image in your head?”
“Yes, it was this sword that was something of a running joke on their ship. But no, I see absolutely no reason for this particular intrusion, since it doesn’t make any sense at all. Rather, it is possible that I picked up some random dream fragments and incorporated them into mine.” explained Emberwing.
“This is certainly very intriguing. Perhaps their lotai, or whatever it could be, is generated unconsciously and might fluctuate during sleep. Are you completely sure about this matter?” Some of her emotions leaked through the link, betraying a sense of eagerness.
“Of course, my eidetic memory has never betrayed me.” answered Emberwing and projected the image of her standing on the paved road, that sword strapped at her hip.
“A very vivid, but also utterly strange dream.” The Mizol thought about it for a moment, and then sent in her usual composed tone, “Right, the cultural information mentioned virtual worlds that they create for enjoyment, so it may be the origin of this dreamscape. The only question is, do they leak their dreams, or did you invade theirs?”
Overstepping the bounds of one’s own dream and infringing upon the dreams of others wasn’t a good sign. It spoke of severe mental distress or an utter lack of control. “Their telepathy is a rather new development, but a Human I spoke with mentioned that they learn how to control it.” Perhaps it was me, thought Emberwing, who, distressed due to the lack of the familiar telepathic chatter, sneaked into someone’s dream. “Maybe I should get a medical examination to exclude as many variables as possible before we make any more guesses.”
The Mizol nodded, “Then let us hurry before the medbay is evacuated.”
As they walked down the corridor and took an elevator, Emberwing went through her memories yet again. The Humans did not mention anything strange regarding their sleep, except that Steele was apparently inspired to craft this sword by a dream and that he was fond of those virtual worlds. He also mentioned the word fay, something that was a symbol for beauty and reminded him of Loroi, but was not elaborated further. Perhaps she should have asked about it in more detail.
Before long, they arrived at the medical station that was in utter disarray. A number of junior Doranzer were busy packing up supplies and ignored them completely. The Mizol commanded them in a somewhat annoyed tone, “We require a checkup, get me a medic.”
“Get it at your own ship!” came the rude response from one of the girls.
“I’m Mizol Parat...” there was a sensation of strength building up behind her sending, yet someone from deeper into the room interrupted her, “That’s terminal, I’m afraid!” which caused everyone to burst out in laughter.
“This confrontation will get us nowhere, so let me try it instead, even if I do not like abusing my clan name,” Emberwing stopped her and sent to everyone, “I am Emberwing of the Starsword clan and I require your assistance!”
A purple-haired Doranzer Mazil-Toza stepped out of the back room, “I can make an exception for you, I guess.”
She then shouted at her assistants, “Reactivate the scanner, you brats, a princess needs our help!”
Emberwing sighed at the joke and quickly explained what they wanted to know, omitting any sensitive information.
“What an adventure! This will make for a great story!” the Doranzer was thrilled, “Was that male Captain attractive? The rumor mill is abuzz with the news but not very specific regarding details.”
“They are pink and utterly mute, and besides, I had other problems on my mind. Just perform that scan, please.” sent Emberwing as she disrobed and laid down.
“Sorry, that was very insensitive of me to say. This is perhaps the only significant occurrence on this damn station for the last four years or so.” The medic was going through the scanner’s readings, “Let's see, despite that amount of radiation damage that you received, there appears to be nothing out of the ordinary. Those Humans must have patched you up flawlessly. Well, given our similarity, their equipment didn’t need to be reconfigured too much, I guess?”
“What about possible brain anomalies or anything that might’ve affected her telepathic talents?” asked the Mizol with a tinge of restlessness.
“I’m not qualified to test her telepathy, and the nearest specialist would be at Azimol, as far as I know. Her brain, however, is within normal parameters.” The Doranzer deactivated the scanner, “In fact, you’re in perfect health, so you can get dressed.”
After doing exactly that, she thanked the Doranzer and urged by the Mizol, they hurried to report everything to Stillstorm.
Stillstorm walked down the corridor at a brisk pace and Emberwing followed her, somewhat puzzled about the outburst.
“That pink alien man-thing certainly has enough courage to call me a barbarian and to question our warrior culture!” The Commander sensed her confusion, “The other races often perceive us a such, even if they try their best to hide it. But to boldly challenge it right away was a good show of a warrior’s spirit that I can acknowledge. Besides, its audacity was also quite amusing, because at our core, we are indeed the most ferocious beasts out there, only partially tamed by our caste system and the Union.”
“I did not perceive it as a philosophical question.” wondered Emberwing.
“The Mizol ways of twisting words are rubbing off on me, enough to understand what that alien was implying.” the Lashret continued in a reminiscent tone, “It’s been 45 years since the last time that I debated philosophy with a male, and the result was a fine warrior that I’m still proud of.”
Arriving at a door guarded by a red-haired Teidar, she beckoned Emberwing to enter and to sit down, then started to explain, “This charade of inviting those witnesses was rather annoying, and it did not serve the purpose that the Mizol intended them for anyway, thus I had to disperse the meeting in the manner that I’m well known for. Tempo will be able to talk with those aliens far more efficiently without any interference now, and I trust that the Emperor had chosen one of her best to support me.” The last part was oozing with sarcasm, then she switched back to her powerful command tone: “Enough of this lecture, give me a quick overview.”
Emberwing gave her a shortened report about the Shell ambush and all the things that transpired after that. Stillstorm nodded, “The Humans have provided us with a report that is surprisingly accurate, and I’ve sent scouts to inspect the Shell armada. It is indeed highly likely that there are other gatecrasher fleets underway, and a courier was already dispatched to warn Azimol of this incursion. Since we can’t hold Rallis, my group will jump back to Leido after we’ve finished evacuating this station here.”
“What of the Humans? They have offered us their aid in spotting the cloaked Shell fleets.” began Emberwing.
“If you want to offer me any advice, you need to provide a good reasoning behind it as well.” answered the Lashret with annoyance due to the interruption. “If it wasn’t for the Shell armada, I wouldn’t have deemed it necessary to even meet with those strange aliens, this is the task of the Mizol. Normally, their ship should’ve been escorted to the Azimol citadel for the Torimor there to deal with. But with the situation as it is, can I really trust them to help us in earnest? They claim to be telepathic, yet they hide behind a perfect lotai and are even invisible to our farseers. This is not just the comparatively minor issue of perceived dishonesty, it is a far more troubling ability.”
Emberwing decided to clarify this, “It is not a lotai, but some kind of mutual incompatibility between us. I’ve tried to connect with them a number of times, and it did not feel like a lotai at all.”
“They’ve already explained this at length and the Listel are busy analyzing it. Yet it doesn’t mean anything if the Humans are actually capable of reading us, but are simply lying while hiding behind whatever mind-shield that is.” the Commander smiled faintly, “Is this how the other races must feel regarding our abilities? The universe certainly has a weird sense of humor, challenging us with such a strange mirror image in these dire times.”
“Do you truly believe that those Humans are our template species?” Why would a traditionalist even consider this?
Stillstorm raised an eyebrow, “Judging from the information that they have sent us, it is the most logical conclusion, any political implications notwithstanding. It is far too elaborate to be a setup or a trick. I’ve also got a grasp of this Captain’s personality, and it seems to be genuine enough. What I’m concerned about are their true goals and allegiances.”
“The Humans haven’t contacted the Shells yet, and they want an alliance with us.” explained Emberwing.
“They display an ability that is not too dissimilar to what the Shells have acquired just recently. I can’t see any benefits for them to dispatch a ship ahead of the armada to contact us directly if they are also supporting the Enemy, but it is still too much of a coincidence. Which means that I’ll be playing along with whatever game they are plotting, but I won’t trust them until they have proven themselves to the Union. You are far too naive, girl.” smirked the Lashret.
“I’m a proper Soroin Torret!” she flared up at this implied insult. Did this Witch truly transfer that old grudge over to her?
This seemed to leak through, and it caused the older Loroi to laugh out loud, again, “Unintended humor seems to be a good way to relieve stress! Old grudge? That’s a hilarious misinterpretation!”
The younger Loroi blinked in confusion, “But Lashret Truesword hinted at a prolonged rivalry between you two on several occasions?”
“Grudges and rivalry are two entirely different concepts. She was my favorite rival and a great help in direst times, although I do resent her now a bit, since she did win that last wager with me.” her tone became a tiny bit softer.
“Wager?” Emberwing was now intrigued, “What kind of, and what would’ve been the prize?”
The other Loroi stared at her, “You.”
“Me? I suppose I am the last remnant of the 25th strike group, but in what way?” This matter was not only becoming more mysterious, but also more unsettling.
“Don’t worry, it is nothing detestable, so don’t try to imagine strange scenarios. Since I lost that bet, it’s my last duty to Truesword to explain it all to you now.”
Stillstorm leaned back and continued in a more relaxed tone, “It started way back, at the beginning of the war. We were both promising and ambitious Torrai assigned to the same fleet, full of fighting spirit and driven by the desire to prove ourselves. Challenging each other to do our best, we fought the Shells with naive zeal, up until the fateful battle of Tasinei Ways.”
Her tone turned grim, “I’m sure you know what happened there, since it is one of the things I’m quite infamous for. I’ve lost my honor, my daughters, my ship, my crew, my friends, my beloved commander and everything else, too.”
A deep-seated feeling of loss and regret flashed through her sending for a heartbeat. “Perhaps you can understand this feeling to a small degree?”
She continued with her tale, “I was a wreck, both inside and outside, and the healers struggled to keep it all together. Then, Truesword showed up and dared to belittle me for being so weak, going as far as to use speech, while refusing to sanzai. She laughed at the hair that I’ve shorn in rage and asked me if I needed help polishing my shiny scalp! She scorned me for the long vacation that I was apparently enjoying and boasted about her victories!”
“That is certainly enough to create a lifelong enmity.” agreed Emberwing.
“On the contrary, this provocation managed to wake me up from my stupor. She kept mocking me until I was furious enough to crawl out of my bed to strangle her!” She chuckled, “It turned out that this was a strategy proposed by the healer that wanted to prepare me for a radical therapy, the mindscape duel, since nothing else seemed to work.”
“The Stormcalmer technique?” This was quite the coincidence!
“Yes, a truly barbaric and very Loroi means of solving problems, with violence. Just challenge whatever is bothering you to a fight, what an easy way out!” she slapped the table, “Contrary to how ridiculous this sounds, it worked, and after fighting her mental image in a trance that the healer induced, I finally began to recover. Before returning to duty, since she overtaxed her leave almost up to the point of a court-martial, Truesword issued a last challenge. Whoever dies battling the Shells first, wins.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense?” No matter if this, or the other way around, it was a foolish wager.
“Indeed, but she wanted me to return as fast as possible, and I was certainly very eager to die in battle. The war situation was also dire and offered plenty of opportunity. Thankfully, I realized the folly of such an absurd goal quickly enough to avoid any suicidal charges. To this day, I do my best as not to win, even though the temptation is still strong.” nodded the Commander.
“That was a,” she wasn’t even sure how to reply, “very personal tale, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Well, every wager needs a prize, and later on, we agreed that should she win, I’ll continue to tutor any of her pupils in her stead.” The Lashret smiled impishly, “And she insisted that I had to retell this embarrassing story so that I would wish that I died instead.”
Utterly flabbergasted, Emberwing tried to process the various implications of this development and replied with the first one that came to mind, “But what about your and mine political associations?”
“This doesn’t matter right now and your clan is still part of the Axis faction.” she dismissed this with a heartfelt disdain for politics.
“For your first assignment, go and assist Tempo in the negotiations. The idea of the Mizol’s mindtricks being rendered ineffective is certainly amusing, but I need to know if those Humans can be trusted. Truesword described you as very bright and promising, so put those abilities to work. It will be a good exercise regarding how to handle a Mizol, too, something that every Torrai must learn. After that, both of you shall report to me. Dismissed!”
Still dazed, she walked back to the conference room. Apparently, very little of what she knew or imagined knowing about Stillstorm proved to be true. For the taciturn and composed Truesword to become friends with the brash Stillstorm? Or was she different back then? The philosophical side of hers was the most surprising part. Loroi history was indeed vicious, and she saw Alexander Jardin’s remark in a new light. They must’ve exchanged cultural information before the meeting, and she wondered what foolery the Loroi package consisted of. For the upstart Humans, who almost destroyed themselves, to see the Loroi as barbaric?
As she got closer to the chamber the Mizol should be in, she heard her pinpoint sending from under a lotai, “You’re done with the debriefing already? Then proceed to the adjacent room, I will consult with you if any questions present themselves.”
She got inside a small cabin and sat down beside the Listel, who activated an additional console for her. It showed the conference room with the Humans, Tempo and another Mizol. Soon enough, the Parat contacted her again, “Captain Jardin told me that you’ve explained the usage of the amplifiers.”
Sensing the slightly accusatory tone, she replied with a strict dismissal, “I’ve done this to ensure their cooperation regarding the inspection of the Shell wreck, and it proved to be the right course of action. Maybe they can even give it to us, together with the Shell corpses, this should be quite insightful.” She sent her the mental image of the wreck and the compiled data.
“We don’t have enough storage space for all this scrap, their ship is simply absurdly big.” On the screen, she saw the Mizol asking Captain Jardin for information regarding the Shell ship. The small projector device on the table displayed a Type-Z light destroyer, then switched over to a schematic view highlighting the salvaged parts. “Their ability to operate devices without direct input is quite novel. We are still running scans to see whether they are cyborgs, but so far, they appear to be alive, despite the psionic silence.”
“The Human told me that some of their implants give them this capability, a by-product of how they unlocked their telepathy.” commented Emberwing.
“The information they’ve sent us did not contain that bit. I’d rather debrief you first, then meet with them, but we do not have enough time.” answered the Mizol Parat.
The Listel was fascinated by this, “To unlock their slumbering telepathy with such radical measures!”
She continued with a directed sending, “Parat Tempo doesn’t want anyone to discuss the possibility of the Humans being our template species, but it is too obvious! It is a pity that we cannot sanzai with each other, though.”
This was interrupted by a sharp rebuke, “I can still hear you gossiping, stop it.”
Judging from how the Mizol invaded their conversation without her feeling the interference this should’ve caused or the lotai wavering in any way, it was the other one that maintained a shield for the two of them, skillfully opening a channel only if it was needed. This made her recall the Captain’s sword that appeared in her dream, “Your tricks reminded me of something, any lotai can be bypassed if one understands how it works. There might be a way to read them, after all.”
“Good job noticing that. Maybe you should've joined the Mizol caste instead.” Was this supposed to be an insult or ill-worded praise? “We are about to take a break, and you can explain this matter to me then.”
After a short while, the Mizol Parat entered the cabin, “Beryl, analyze the data about the Shell ship that the Humans have sent us. Torret Emberwing, please come with me.” They went to another cabin that was being guarded by the Parat’s silent lotai assistant.
“Good, we can now speak undisturbed. What is the matter that you wanted to discuss?” sent the Mizol inquiringly.
Emberwing steeled her mental shields just in case and began explaining, “During my stay on the Human ship, I had a series of very strange dreams, filled with alien imagery. At first, I thought that it was caused the by the physical or, perhaps, mental damage. Then, I had quite the epiphany as the Human Captain suddenly brought along a sword which I had previously seen in a dream.”
This caused the Mizol to perk up, “You mean the one that he had with him? Have they planted its image in your head?”
“Yes, it was this sword that was something of a running joke on their ship. But no, I see absolutely no reason for this particular intrusion, since it doesn’t make any sense at all. Rather, it is possible that I picked up some random dream fragments and incorporated them into mine.” explained Emberwing.
“This is certainly very intriguing. Perhaps their lotai, or whatever it could be, is generated unconsciously and might fluctuate during sleep. Are you completely sure about this matter?” Some of her emotions leaked through the link, betraying a sense of eagerness.
“Of course, my eidetic memory has never betrayed me.” answered Emberwing and projected the image of her standing on the paved road, that sword strapped at her hip.
“A very vivid, but also utterly strange dream.” The Mizol thought about it for a moment, and then sent in her usual composed tone, “Right, the cultural information mentioned virtual worlds that they create for enjoyment, so it may be the origin of this dreamscape. The only question is, do they leak their dreams, or did you invade theirs?”
Overstepping the bounds of one’s own dream and infringing upon the dreams of others wasn’t a good sign. It spoke of severe mental distress or an utter lack of control. “Their telepathy is a rather new development, but a Human I spoke with mentioned that they learn how to control it.” Perhaps it was me, thought Emberwing, who, distressed due to the lack of the familiar telepathic chatter, sneaked into someone’s dream. “Maybe I should get a medical examination to exclude as many variables as possible before we make any more guesses.”
The Mizol nodded, “Then let us hurry before the medbay is evacuated.”
As they walked down the corridor and took an elevator, Emberwing went through her memories yet again. The Humans did not mention anything strange regarding their sleep, except that Steele was apparently inspired to craft this sword by a dream and that he was fond of those virtual worlds. He also mentioned the word fay, something that was a symbol for beauty and reminded him of Loroi, but was not elaborated further. Perhaps she should have asked about it in more detail.
Before long, they arrived at the medical station that was in utter disarray. A number of junior Doranzer were busy packing up supplies and ignored them completely. The Mizol commanded them in a somewhat annoyed tone, “We require a checkup, get me a medic.”
“Get it at your own ship!” came the rude response from one of the girls.
“I’m Mizol Parat...” there was a sensation of strength building up behind her sending, yet someone from deeper into the room interrupted her, “That’s terminal, I’m afraid!” which caused everyone to burst out in laughter.
“This confrontation will get us nowhere, so let me try it instead, even if I do not like abusing my clan name,” Emberwing stopped her and sent to everyone, “I am Emberwing of the Starsword clan and I require your assistance!”
A purple-haired Doranzer Mazil-Toza stepped out of the back room, “I can make an exception for you, I guess.”
She then shouted at her assistants, “Reactivate the scanner, you brats, a princess needs our help!”
Emberwing sighed at the joke and quickly explained what they wanted to know, omitting any sensitive information.
“What an adventure! This will make for a great story!” the Doranzer was thrilled, “Was that male Captain attractive? The rumor mill is abuzz with the news but not very specific regarding details.”
“They are pink and utterly mute, and besides, I had other problems on my mind. Just perform that scan, please.” sent Emberwing as she disrobed and laid down.
“Sorry, that was very insensitive of me to say. This is perhaps the only significant occurrence on this damn station for the last four years or so.” The medic was going through the scanner’s readings, “Let's see, despite that amount of radiation damage that you received, there appears to be nothing out of the ordinary. Those Humans must have patched you up flawlessly. Well, given our similarity, their equipment didn’t need to be reconfigured too much, I guess?”
“What about possible brain anomalies or anything that might’ve affected her telepathic talents?” asked the Mizol with a tinge of restlessness.
“I’m not qualified to test her telepathy, and the nearest specialist would be at Azimol, as far as I know. Her brain, however, is within normal parameters.” The Doranzer deactivated the scanner, “In fact, you’re in perfect health, so you can get dressed.”
After doing exactly that, she thanked the Doranzer and urged by the Mizol, they hurried to report everything to Stillstorm.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XVIII: The Mission
Emberwing felt relieved that there was nothing wrong with her, therefore it was apparently a mental issue, “Since I do not have any unusual telepathic talents, and the Doranzer did not detect any anomalies, it means that the Human lotai can be bypassed once we unravel how it actually works.”
The Mizol agreed, “We just need an excuse to keep a number of Loroi close to them for some time. On the other hand, those need to be selected carefully, since the Humans might be able to read us. This will be quite difficult at the front lines, so we should get them to Azimol, at least. Torimor Silvermist has the clearance to allow experiments with the farseer equipment, because their unamplified farsensing doesn’t have enough range to be of much use to us.”
The sending was betraying a sense of eagerness yet again, was the Parat trying to get out of the line of fire? Or was she aiming for the achievement of a first contact with a new species? It was probably the latter, decided Emberwing, but asked something else to keep her thoughts to herself, “Am I right in assuming that allowing them even deeper into our territory would be politically troublesome?”
“You’ve seen how our dear allies reacted to this alien? The Barsam was overflowing with glee at the prospect of how the mere idea of our template species could empower their religion. The Historian construct has probably contacted them in secret already.” The Mizol sent this with slight disdain.
“Then, why invite them in the first place?” asked Emberwing as they entered the elevator.
“To assess their reactions as well as to keep Stillstorm from doing something drastic. You’ve seen how she reacted, and this is a good example of why we Mizol conduct all diplomatic contacts. Fortunately enough, this Human was not offended, unlike a Nissek would, for example.” She deliberately omitted any emotions from this reply, which explained her stance even better. But there was no real need for such reassurances, because Stillstorm appeared to be reasonable enough. Since she was supposed to tutor her now, Emberwing made a mental note to ask her about that later as they exited the lift.
Meanwhile, the Mizol continued, “Gauging from the technological and strategical potential of an alliance, we should not antagonize them. If those Humans can truly spot the hidden Shell fleets, then we may learn how to do that, too. It could also provide an additional hint about their unusual lotai.”
Together, they entered the cabin Stillstorm was in, who looked up from her console and shot them a curt “Report.”
“First, the Humans have promised to aid us in spotting the hidden Shell fleets. I’m thinking of bringing them to Azimol, where we can try to amplify their farsight.” The Mizol began listing her points in a crisp tone, “Second, an alliance may be beneficial, since it could allow us to outflank the Hierarchy, or at least, to prevent them from providing such assistance to the Shells, voluntary or not. Third, they are interested in our telepathic expertise and wish for an exchange of knowledge.”
“Any long-term issues do not concern me right now. The point about the Enemy fleets is certainly intriguing, but it requires trust!” The Lashret leaned back, “We cannot read them, or check if their sight is true until it is too late. How can we base any strategy upon such a gamble?”
“There might be a way to circumvent their lotai.” the Mizol urged Emberwing to continue.
She explained her theory, “We assume that I managed to pick up some dream fragments from the Humans in my sleep. It might take some time for our sanzai to overcome this challenge, but I believe that we can bridge the incompatibility.”
“So you expect me to trust dreams now?” Stillstorm frowned, “This is merely a wild guess at this point, but I suppose since we don’t have anything else to go by, it is worth a try.”
The Mizol was eager to agree, “We need to keep a number of Loroi close to them for some time, ideally on their ship. Perhaps it is indeed an issue of allowing our sanzai to adapt to the frequency they operate in. The Azimol citadel hosts better specialists that can make more sense of this mystery.”
“Telepathy is not a radio communicator that can be easily tuned,” Stillstorm stared at the Mizol, “And I suppose that you want to volunteer? Has that clash of words tingled some weird Mizol fetish for you to show interest in that male, or do I sense a hint of cowardice in this sudden display of enthusiasm?”
The Parat deflected this provocation, “The fleet-lotai of the Shells must be pierced as fast as possible, and this is the best lead that we have right now. I will go wherever I’m needed, for the benefit of the Union!”
“Or your own?” The two glared at each other as their sanzai clashed in an inarticulate contest of strength. Finally, the Lashret nodded, “Good, your intentions do not seem to be too dishonorable, at least for a Mizol. It is an acceptable strategy, since it will also relieve me of the immeasurable joy of dealing with you. Try to negotiate the issue of a liaison team with the Humans, and I shall allow them passage to Azimol. Dismissed.”
The Mizol left the cabin to resume the conference, and Emberwing asked Stillstorm, “So does this mean that I have to go as well?”
“If you are concerned with your tutoring, then do you really wish for me to be your mentor? Don’t try to sugarcoat it, I’ve sensed what you think of me.” Stillstorm directed her gaze at Emberwing.
“To be honest, the rumors do not provide an accurate image of you.” acknowledged Emberwing.
“I always prefer an honest answer and that was too ambiguous, you are learning the Mizol ways too fast!” she sent in an irony-laden tone, “I know about the rumors that surround me and that Human Captain must’ve asked about them as well. Otherwise, his attempts to confront me in turn wouldn’t be that crafty, am I right?”
“I’ve given him some background information to smooth out the negotiations. The prospect of an alliance is important enough to warrant that.” answered Emberwing with determination.
“Good, making decisions and standing up for them is the proper way of a Torret.” She smiled, “Yet there was no need to warn him, I might have a bad reputation, but do you really see me as unreasonable?”
Now would be a good time to ask about the issue with the witnesses, “The Mizol invited those witnesses to keep you in check.”
“She is normally not very forthcoming with information, but I guess that my ways are also rubbing off on her. Parat Tempo was indeed overly cautious, and it was my fault to a degree. The ways of a warrior are not suited for diplomacy, but if she set up the stage, then I had to play my part in it.” Stillstorm used a somewhat roundabout way to answer this question.
This did not satisfy Emberwing, however, “What does a stage play have to do anything with this issue?”
The older Loroi shook her head, “You, the war generations, are too engrossed in this fight to understand the finer points of being a Loroi warrior. It is inevitable, of course, but a heavy blow to our culture nonetheless. This Human has formulated it in an interesting way, to use every available asset as a weapon. Which is exactly what I’m trying to do, to wield my fury as a sword, instead of allowing it to consume me from within.”
Indeed, it was 3 years ago when she visited a traditional play the last time, and many of the younger warriors did not even experience it once. “Why wield a sword at a diplomatic meeting?”
“During better times, I would’ve left it all to the Mizol, but now, I needed to get a grasp of their character in a quicker and more straightforward way.” She shrugged, “We Loroi are too direct, too reliant on our sanzai, and thus, grew too confident of our abilities. With those blocked, I had to swing a metaphorical sword and gauge his riposte with my warrior instincts. Aside from the fact he was a male, his reaction wasn't that far off from us. That’s what I needed to know, and Parat Tempo can work out the finer details now.”
“You are already tutoring me, and it’s not as bad as I’ve imagined.” interjected Emberwing. “Although, the sword allegories aren’t to my liking. Or metaphors in general.”
“Blame it on my hobby of collecting, but not using them.” Stillstorm leaned in, “Let me be frank and brief with the next lesson, then, since we don’t have much time until this station will be abandoned. The war is now at a turning point, and not in our favor.”
“But the mobile defense strategy works well and is inflicting disproportionate losses upon the enemy.” disagreed the Captain.
“Even before the emergence of their fleet-lotai, many considered this strategy to be a dead end that we grew too accustomed to,” explained the Commander, “After the debacle of Tasinei Ways that ended Semoset, we have lost the initiative, and we didn’t do enough to regain it. Wars cannot be won by defending! No matter how many ships we destroy, they always replace them. We try to win trough attrition, even though it is the monomaniacal Shells who are far better at that.”
“The strike groups are meant to help us defend with as little as possible to accumulate forces for the next major campaign.” From her point of view, this was a sound plan.
“This is what happens when a Mizol becomes Emperor. This strategy failed once before,” sent Stillstorm with a pang of guilt, “and it was unlikely that it would have worked a second time, even before this farsight jamming. Yet she insisted on that foolishly straightforward plan, despite the evidence of the Shells outgrowing and outproducing us by an ever widening margin. Now, our last decisive advantage, the farsight, was rendered ineffective as well, as more and more Enemy forces can evade it.”
“I did not realize that the situation was that bad.” admitted Emberwing.
“Ever since the Shells introduced their fleet-lotai, four raider groups in this sector alone have disappeared without notice and two others sustained heavy casualties due to ambushes, even my own group is now under-strength. We can assume that our defensive strategy is hereby rendered obsolete, and we do not have a similarly effective replacement. Furthermore, just that single gatecrasher fleet is about twice the number of all our assets in this entire sector combined."
The Lashret tapped the table and continued, "Unless the Shells are utter idiots, it is not the only force heading our way. Additional groups are most likely approaching from other vectors as well, but we cannot spot them any longer. The Humans might have spoiled their surprise attack that aimed at stabbing us from behind. It won’t help us much, though, since we cannot intercept them in time and with sufficient numbers without precise farseer detection.”
“So what can we do?” this was certainly a very worrisome development.
“Don’t worry, this incursion is not massive enough to defeat us.” Stillstorm emphasized her confidence, “Yet it will force us to expend too many of our reserve ships in a blind fight, thus setting most efforts to build up strength back to the starting point. What we truly need is a war-winning advantage to break up this stalemate.”
“The Humans?” wondered Emberwing, “While certainly quite advanced, their Empire is too young to provide sufficient numbers, and we do not know what technologies they are willing to share.”
“At least their ability to penetrate the Shell lotai can restore the status quo and buy us more time. Besides, the main reason why I want you to accompany them is because the possibility of you dying is too high. I have promised Truesword to take care of her pupils, after all.” She smiled, “While there are silly rumors that it is me who drains all luck out of my subordinates, I think that it was this absurd and unwinnable wager which tricked my dalid into keeping me alive for so long.”
“I don’t care about some foolish superstition, and I’m not afraid to head into battle!” She flared up at the implication of overprotectiveness.
“I’m not questioning your courage, but I don’t have spare ships for you to command, and continuing to train you for the administrative branch would be a waste of talent. Fulfill this task, and if my over-strained luck allows us to meet again, then I’ll make sure to give you a ship and tutor you properly.”
The Lashret pointed at her, “Since you already managed to glimpse beyond their lotai once, join up with the Mizol and unravel the mystery regarding the Humans. You have three interlinked tasks, see if they can be trusted, get past their lotai and secure their help. I’ll issue orders regarding a liaison mission and detach a ship to escort them to Azimol. Dismissed.”
“Good, then I will succeed.” Emberwing stood up and exited the cabin. If Stillstorm was not merely sending her away, but on a truly important mission instead, then things simply did not add up at all. Despite being well-known for her honesty, she seemed to avoid explaining it further, or was a mere Soroin Torret not senior enough to be made privy to the actual reason? Why would she place so much importance on the aid the Humans could provide if she did not even trust them, and so quickly to boot? Or was the real test figuring it out?
She entered the secondary cabin and sat down beside the Listel. The talks have already resumed, and the Mizol, still wary of the possibility of the Humans being able to read her, was again hidden under a lotai.
The Listel paused her work, “I’ve tried to analyze their timeline and those Humans seem to advance very fast. They also have a truly unique culture, and then, the telepathy! Since we’re related, it should be possible to connect with each other.”
The Mizol, sensing her arrival, gave a short status update, “I’ve negotiated with the Humans, and it seems that they are as curious about us as we are about them. They agreed to host four of us onboard, so we should bring a Listel.”
“So you mean that I’ll be coming along? That’s wonderful! Finally, some scientific work!” The Listel beamed with joy.
“Adjust your enthusiasm to a more reasonable degree and remember your mental training.” The Mizol scolded her, “From among the Listel, you have the best mental defense ratings, so make sure to use them properly! We still do not know if those Humans can sense our thoughts.”
“But I’m told that it’s rather easy to read me?” The Tozet appeared puzzled, “Besides, absolutely nothing indicates that they are able to read us.”
The Mizol was now speaking with the Human Captain, but before long she looked at her handheld device and used this tiny pause to switch back to sanzai, “That refers to your emotions, and I mean the Listel training that encompasses ways to protect the information that you hold. It’s unlikely that they can read us, but we need to be on guard. I’ve now requested a fourth member for our group, preferably a Teidar.”
So a Soroin, a Mizol, a Listel and a Teidar, this sounded like a good combination of the various castes. Emberwing would’ve liked to add a Doranzer, although a sufficiently qualified psionic specialist wouldn’t be assigned to a raider group. The issue about the Humans being able to read minds was probably just typical Mizol paranoia. From what she understood, they didn’t manage to read her and appeared genuinely puzzled about it, just as she was, too.
Soroin Mallas Rune-Laurel, Stillstorm’s assistant, entered the room and addressed her, “Soroin Torret Emberwing, Lashret Stillstorm approved of the liaison mission and placed you in command of it.” She handed the Listel a data crystal and continued, “I hope that you live up to her expectations.”
“I shall not disappoint her and I intend to uphold Lashret Trueswords honor.” assured Emberwing.
The Mallas nodded and left, so the Listel, who was busy adjusting her lotai, dropped it to ask a question, “You’re that star pupil which Stillstorm mentioned once? I’m Listel Tozet Beryl, pleased to meet you! It will be my pleasure to study the humans together.”
“Soroin Torret Emberwing, but I’m not particularly special or famous, so it was most probably my sister, Moonblade. My previous mentor, Lashret Truesword, was apparently friends with Stillstorm, and it was actually quite the surprise to learn of this.” She kept the wager part confidential and explained it as a promise between friendly rivals.
“This has the makings of a great story!” the white-haired Listel perked up.
First the Doranzer, now this Listel, she was a warrior, not a provider of entertainment! The anger caused her to rebuke the Listel, “I’d rather not be any part of that, if it could’ve saved my sister, crew and mentor!”
“I’m so sorry, this was very insensitive of me to say!” This Listel appeared to be completely different compared to her friend Amber. Far more curious, but also too impulsive.
There was no ill-will behind the inquiry, however, and she chose to forgive her, “Don’t worry, that is merely a very difficult subject to talk about, and I require some time to overcome this situation by myself.”
“If you need someone to talk to, I may assist with that,” offered the Listel, “I’m a very good listener!”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather talk about the mission first.” Emberwing was not yet ready to accept a new friendship, “What does the missive say?”
“Right, the orders,” She put the crystal which she was still holding into a slot and transferred the data to both consoles, “We are tasked with analyzing the Humans and attempting to overcome their lotai. It also lists the fourth member of our group, wait, oh no.”
“What do you mean by that?” The Listel had sent a rather chaotic and fiery image.
“The Teidar is Pallan Fireblade! I’m not bunking with her, that is absolutely out of the question!” This was underlined by an uncomfortably vivid image of an attacking Shell hardtrooper, “She leaks things like that in her sleep! That’s nothing that I would ever want to remember!”
“Pallan Fireblade?” Her story was a rather memorable one, “The Beast of Seren is here?”
“Yes, and everyone from two decks around her adjust their shifts to avoid sleeping at the same time when she does.” Beryl frowned, “That ship is big enough to ensure enough distance, but how do we explain it to the Humans? Maybe we should let her guard the shuttle.”
Emberwing felt relieved that there was nothing wrong with her, therefore it was apparently a mental issue, “Since I do not have any unusual telepathic talents, and the Doranzer did not detect any anomalies, it means that the Human lotai can be bypassed once we unravel how it actually works.”
The Mizol agreed, “We just need an excuse to keep a number of Loroi close to them for some time. On the other hand, those need to be selected carefully, since the Humans might be able to read us. This will be quite difficult at the front lines, so we should get them to Azimol, at least. Torimor Silvermist has the clearance to allow experiments with the farseer equipment, because their unamplified farsensing doesn’t have enough range to be of much use to us.”
The sending was betraying a sense of eagerness yet again, was the Parat trying to get out of the line of fire? Or was she aiming for the achievement of a first contact with a new species? It was probably the latter, decided Emberwing, but asked something else to keep her thoughts to herself, “Am I right in assuming that allowing them even deeper into our territory would be politically troublesome?”
“You’ve seen how our dear allies reacted to this alien? The Barsam was overflowing with glee at the prospect of how the mere idea of our template species could empower their religion. The Historian construct has probably contacted them in secret already.” The Mizol sent this with slight disdain.
“Then, why invite them in the first place?” asked Emberwing as they entered the elevator.
“To assess their reactions as well as to keep Stillstorm from doing something drastic. You’ve seen how she reacted, and this is a good example of why we Mizol conduct all diplomatic contacts. Fortunately enough, this Human was not offended, unlike a Nissek would, for example.” She deliberately omitted any emotions from this reply, which explained her stance even better. But there was no real need for such reassurances, because Stillstorm appeared to be reasonable enough. Since she was supposed to tutor her now, Emberwing made a mental note to ask her about that later as they exited the lift.
Meanwhile, the Mizol continued, “Gauging from the technological and strategical potential of an alliance, we should not antagonize them. If those Humans can truly spot the hidden Shell fleets, then we may learn how to do that, too. It could also provide an additional hint about their unusual lotai.”
Together, they entered the cabin Stillstorm was in, who looked up from her console and shot them a curt “Report.”
“First, the Humans have promised to aid us in spotting the hidden Shell fleets. I’m thinking of bringing them to Azimol, where we can try to amplify their farsight.” The Mizol began listing her points in a crisp tone, “Second, an alliance may be beneficial, since it could allow us to outflank the Hierarchy, or at least, to prevent them from providing such assistance to the Shells, voluntary or not. Third, they are interested in our telepathic expertise and wish for an exchange of knowledge.”
“Any long-term issues do not concern me right now. The point about the Enemy fleets is certainly intriguing, but it requires trust!” The Lashret leaned back, “We cannot read them, or check if their sight is true until it is too late. How can we base any strategy upon such a gamble?”
“There might be a way to circumvent their lotai.” the Mizol urged Emberwing to continue.
She explained her theory, “We assume that I managed to pick up some dream fragments from the Humans in my sleep. It might take some time for our sanzai to overcome this challenge, but I believe that we can bridge the incompatibility.”
“So you expect me to trust dreams now?” Stillstorm frowned, “This is merely a wild guess at this point, but I suppose since we don’t have anything else to go by, it is worth a try.”
The Mizol was eager to agree, “We need to keep a number of Loroi close to them for some time, ideally on their ship. Perhaps it is indeed an issue of allowing our sanzai to adapt to the frequency they operate in. The Azimol citadel hosts better specialists that can make more sense of this mystery.”
“Telepathy is not a radio communicator that can be easily tuned,” Stillstorm stared at the Mizol, “And I suppose that you want to volunteer? Has that clash of words tingled some weird Mizol fetish for you to show interest in that male, or do I sense a hint of cowardice in this sudden display of enthusiasm?”
The Parat deflected this provocation, “The fleet-lotai of the Shells must be pierced as fast as possible, and this is the best lead that we have right now. I will go wherever I’m needed, for the benefit of the Union!”
“Or your own?” The two glared at each other as their sanzai clashed in an inarticulate contest of strength. Finally, the Lashret nodded, “Good, your intentions do not seem to be too dishonorable, at least for a Mizol. It is an acceptable strategy, since it will also relieve me of the immeasurable joy of dealing with you. Try to negotiate the issue of a liaison team with the Humans, and I shall allow them passage to Azimol. Dismissed.”
The Mizol left the cabin to resume the conference, and Emberwing asked Stillstorm, “So does this mean that I have to go as well?”
“If you are concerned with your tutoring, then do you really wish for me to be your mentor? Don’t try to sugarcoat it, I’ve sensed what you think of me.” Stillstorm directed her gaze at Emberwing.
“To be honest, the rumors do not provide an accurate image of you.” acknowledged Emberwing.
“I always prefer an honest answer and that was too ambiguous, you are learning the Mizol ways too fast!” she sent in an irony-laden tone, “I know about the rumors that surround me and that Human Captain must’ve asked about them as well. Otherwise, his attempts to confront me in turn wouldn’t be that crafty, am I right?”
“I’ve given him some background information to smooth out the negotiations. The prospect of an alliance is important enough to warrant that.” answered Emberwing with determination.
“Good, making decisions and standing up for them is the proper way of a Torret.” She smiled, “Yet there was no need to warn him, I might have a bad reputation, but do you really see me as unreasonable?”
Now would be a good time to ask about the issue with the witnesses, “The Mizol invited those witnesses to keep you in check.”
“She is normally not very forthcoming with information, but I guess that my ways are also rubbing off on her. Parat Tempo was indeed overly cautious, and it was my fault to a degree. The ways of a warrior are not suited for diplomacy, but if she set up the stage, then I had to play my part in it.” Stillstorm used a somewhat roundabout way to answer this question.
This did not satisfy Emberwing, however, “What does a stage play have to do anything with this issue?”
The older Loroi shook her head, “You, the war generations, are too engrossed in this fight to understand the finer points of being a Loroi warrior. It is inevitable, of course, but a heavy blow to our culture nonetheless. This Human has formulated it in an interesting way, to use every available asset as a weapon. Which is exactly what I’m trying to do, to wield my fury as a sword, instead of allowing it to consume me from within.”
Indeed, it was 3 years ago when she visited a traditional play the last time, and many of the younger warriors did not even experience it once. “Why wield a sword at a diplomatic meeting?”
“During better times, I would’ve left it all to the Mizol, but now, I needed to get a grasp of their character in a quicker and more straightforward way.” She shrugged, “We Loroi are too direct, too reliant on our sanzai, and thus, grew too confident of our abilities. With those blocked, I had to swing a metaphorical sword and gauge his riposte with my warrior instincts. Aside from the fact he was a male, his reaction wasn't that far off from us. That’s what I needed to know, and Parat Tempo can work out the finer details now.”
“You are already tutoring me, and it’s not as bad as I’ve imagined.” interjected Emberwing. “Although, the sword allegories aren’t to my liking. Or metaphors in general.”
“Blame it on my hobby of collecting, but not using them.” Stillstorm leaned in, “Let me be frank and brief with the next lesson, then, since we don’t have much time until this station will be abandoned. The war is now at a turning point, and not in our favor.”
“But the mobile defense strategy works well and is inflicting disproportionate losses upon the enemy.” disagreed the Captain.
“Even before the emergence of their fleet-lotai, many considered this strategy to be a dead end that we grew too accustomed to,” explained the Commander, “After the debacle of Tasinei Ways that ended Semoset, we have lost the initiative, and we didn’t do enough to regain it. Wars cannot be won by defending! No matter how many ships we destroy, they always replace them. We try to win trough attrition, even though it is the monomaniacal Shells who are far better at that.”
“The strike groups are meant to help us defend with as little as possible to accumulate forces for the next major campaign.” From her point of view, this was a sound plan.
“This is what happens when a Mizol becomes Emperor. This strategy failed once before,” sent Stillstorm with a pang of guilt, “and it was unlikely that it would have worked a second time, even before this farsight jamming. Yet she insisted on that foolishly straightforward plan, despite the evidence of the Shells outgrowing and outproducing us by an ever widening margin. Now, our last decisive advantage, the farsight, was rendered ineffective as well, as more and more Enemy forces can evade it.”
“I did not realize that the situation was that bad.” admitted Emberwing.
“Ever since the Shells introduced their fleet-lotai, four raider groups in this sector alone have disappeared without notice and two others sustained heavy casualties due to ambushes, even my own group is now under-strength. We can assume that our defensive strategy is hereby rendered obsolete, and we do not have a similarly effective replacement. Furthermore, just that single gatecrasher fleet is about twice the number of all our assets in this entire sector combined."
The Lashret tapped the table and continued, "Unless the Shells are utter idiots, it is not the only force heading our way. Additional groups are most likely approaching from other vectors as well, but we cannot spot them any longer. The Humans might have spoiled their surprise attack that aimed at stabbing us from behind. It won’t help us much, though, since we cannot intercept them in time and with sufficient numbers without precise farseer detection.”
“So what can we do?” this was certainly a very worrisome development.
“Don’t worry, this incursion is not massive enough to defeat us.” Stillstorm emphasized her confidence, “Yet it will force us to expend too many of our reserve ships in a blind fight, thus setting most efforts to build up strength back to the starting point. What we truly need is a war-winning advantage to break up this stalemate.”
“The Humans?” wondered Emberwing, “While certainly quite advanced, their Empire is too young to provide sufficient numbers, and we do not know what technologies they are willing to share.”
“At least their ability to penetrate the Shell lotai can restore the status quo and buy us more time. Besides, the main reason why I want you to accompany them is because the possibility of you dying is too high. I have promised Truesword to take care of her pupils, after all.” She smiled, “While there are silly rumors that it is me who drains all luck out of my subordinates, I think that it was this absurd and unwinnable wager which tricked my dalid into keeping me alive for so long.”
“I don’t care about some foolish superstition, and I’m not afraid to head into battle!” She flared up at the implication of overprotectiveness.
“I’m not questioning your courage, but I don’t have spare ships for you to command, and continuing to train you for the administrative branch would be a waste of talent. Fulfill this task, and if my over-strained luck allows us to meet again, then I’ll make sure to give you a ship and tutor you properly.”
The Lashret pointed at her, “Since you already managed to glimpse beyond their lotai once, join up with the Mizol and unravel the mystery regarding the Humans. You have three interlinked tasks, see if they can be trusted, get past their lotai and secure their help. I’ll issue orders regarding a liaison mission and detach a ship to escort them to Azimol. Dismissed.”
“Good, then I will succeed.” Emberwing stood up and exited the cabin. If Stillstorm was not merely sending her away, but on a truly important mission instead, then things simply did not add up at all. Despite being well-known for her honesty, she seemed to avoid explaining it further, or was a mere Soroin Torret not senior enough to be made privy to the actual reason? Why would she place so much importance on the aid the Humans could provide if she did not even trust them, and so quickly to boot? Or was the real test figuring it out?
She entered the secondary cabin and sat down beside the Listel. The talks have already resumed, and the Mizol, still wary of the possibility of the Humans being able to read her, was again hidden under a lotai.
The Listel paused her work, “I’ve tried to analyze their timeline and those Humans seem to advance very fast. They also have a truly unique culture, and then, the telepathy! Since we’re related, it should be possible to connect with each other.”
The Mizol, sensing her arrival, gave a short status update, “I’ve negotiated with the Humans, and it seems that they are as curious about us as we are about them. They agreed to host four of us onboard, so we should bring a Listel.”
“So you mean that I’ll be coming along? That’s wonderful! Finally, some scientific work!” The Listel beamed with joy.
“Adjust your enthusiasm to a more reasonable degree and remember your mental training.” The Mizol scolded her, “From among the Listel, you have the best mental defense ratings, so make sure to use them properly! We still do not know if those Humans can sense our thoughts.”
“But I’m told that it’s rather easy to read me?” The Tozet appeared puzzled, “Besides, absolutely nothing indicates that they are able to read us.”
The Mizol was now speaking with the Human Captain, but before long she looked at her handheld device and used this tiny pause to switch back to sanzai, “That refers to your emotions, and I mean the Listel training that encompasses ways to protect the information that you hold. It’s unlikely that they can read us, but we need to be on guard. I’ve now requested a fourth member for our group, preferably a Teidar.”
So a Soroin, a Mizol, a Listel and a Teidar, this sounded like a good combination of the various castes. Emberwing would’ve liked to add a Doranzer, although a sufficiently qualified psionic specialist wouldn’t be assigned to a raider group. The issue about the Humans being able to read minds was probably just typical Mizol paranoia. From what she understood, they didn’t manage to read her and appeared genuinely puzzled about it, just as she was, too.
Soroin Mallas Rune-Laurel, Stillstorm’s assistant, entered the room and addressed her, “Soroin Torret Emberwing, Lashret Stillstorm approved of the liaison mission and placed you in command of it.” She handed the Listel a data crystal and continued, “I hope that you live up to her expectations.”
“I shall not disappoint her and I intend to uphold Lashret Trueswords honor.” assured Emberwing.
The Mallas nodded and left, so the Listel, who was busy adjusting her lotai, dropped it to ask a question, “You’re that star pupil which Stillstorm mentioned once? I’m Listel Tozet Beryl, pleased to meet you! It will be my pleasure to study the humans together.”
“Soroin Torret Emberwing, but I’m not particularly special or famous, so it was most probably my sister, Moonblade. My previous mentor, Lashret Truesword, was apparently friends with Stillstorm, and it was actually quite the surprise to learn of this.” She kept the wager part confidential and explained it as a promise between friendly rivals.
“This has the makings of a great story!” the white-haired Listel perked up.
First the Doranzer, now this Listel, she was a warrior, not a provider of entertainment! The anger caused her to rebuke the Listel, “I’d rather not be any part of that, if it could’ve saved my sister, crew and mentor!”
“I’m so sorry, this was very insensitive of me to say!” This Listel appeared to be completely different compared to her friend Amber. Far more curious, but also too impulsive.
There was no ill-will behind the inquiry, however, and she chose to forgive her, “Don’t worry, that is merely a very difficult subject to talk about, and I require some time to overcome this situation by myself.”
“If you need someone to talk to, I may assist with that,” offered the Listel, “I’m a very good listener!”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather talk about the mission first.” Emberwing was not yet ready to accept a new friendship, “What does the missive say?”
“Right, the orders,” She put the crystal which she was still holding into a slot and transferred the data to both consoles, “We are tasked with analyzing the Humans and attempting to overcome their lotai. It also lists the fourth member of our group, wait, oh no.”
“What do you mean by that?” The Listel had sent a rather chaotic and fiery image.
“The Teidar is Pallan Fireblade! I’m not bunking with her, that is absolutely out of the question!” This was underlined by an uncomfortably vivid image of an attacking Shell hardtrooper, “She leaks things like that in her sleep! That’s nothing that I would ever want to remember!”
“Pallan Fireblade?” Her story was a rather memorable one, “The Beast of Seren is here?”
“Yes, and everyone from two decks around her adjust their shifts to avoid sleeping at the same time when she does.” Beryl frowned, “That ship is big enough to ensure enough distance, but how do we explain it to the Humans? Maybe we should let her guard the shuttle.”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Intermission I: The beginning of the end
Ixitixil-Kittikik-tikkikal-16, supreme commander of the combined Khalkha divisions, was silently contemplating in his chamber. The invasion that he had helped to prepare was progressing well, even though the Enemy managed to spot this fleet in advance. It would be foolish to assume that his, or anyone’s meager ability could foresee every possibility. What separated him from any less dedicated commander, however, would be his meticulous preparation. Instead of proceeding with the attack plan number 7, he would now switch to the 12th contingency plan.
According to the new strategy, it was no longer necessary to risk a deep jump into Leido. The calculated losses would outweigh the possible gains, now that he lost the advantage of a surprise attack. Instead, he would mislead them regarding his true goals and direct the bulk of his fleet towards Azimol, leaving the mop-up operations for the secondary forces entering from Sala-101. After destroying the Azimol citadel, he could jump to Enedd to unite with the other Khalkha division that should’ve broken through Sala-128 by then. This way, the remaining Enemy forces would be corralled together and ground down between the two fleets, then the combined armada could proceed to Nezel undisturbed.
With mixed feelings, he checked the cornerstone of this grand endeavor next. After lengthy experiments, the psionic devices worked as intended and with the accursed Farsense blocked, the Enemy could no longer concentrate their meager forces to intercept the Hierarchy fleets. The fortunes were now reversed and by exploiting the moment of confusion that this disruption had surely caused, it was only a matter of time until the Hierarchy would end this lengthy conflict.
Everything seemed in order, but to assume so amounted to a display of hubris, and he went through the available data and battle plans for the 11th time. Before long, he realized that his thoughts drifted off and that the last two loops were unnecessary, going far beyond what could be regarded as adequate, thus lowering his efficiency by 7.52 percent. Was it perhaps anxiety about the outcome of this campaign, or even worse, regarding his success as its Commander?
Clicking his mandibles in annoyance at the lapse in self-control, he instead concentrated on the root of the problem that bothered him the most. This strange ship or those aliens that called themselves the Darlock were not recorded anywhere. Even the 2691 eager units that volunteered to analyze this conundrum could not produce any satisfactory results. The alien’s utterly mysterious goals, abilities and the incredible drive system that demonstrated a superior level of technology were an unwelcome wildcard in the grand scheme.
Apparently, those aliens were telepaths, yet unlike the accursed Witches, they were not affected by the new devices. Instead, it seemed like they were warning them from adopting those nefarious tricks, something he had to agree with, even though it was a necessary measure. Were the Darlocks yet another artifice of the dreaded Soia? Their overly symbolic speech, riddled with allegories and religious interpretations, was difficult to interpret, but they were apparently very old.
Perhaps, given their vaguely humanoid form, they could be the Enemy's lost template race, or somehow related to them. Among all the species of the Hierarchy and beyond, nothing even remotely resembling telepathy was ever found. It would be too much of a coincidence for a completely unrelated race to possess it. There was also the point of what was referred to as their un-Brothers, an offshoot species, or maybe a rogue faction. The Darloks claimed to abide by some ritual oath of non-interference, yet those so-called Harvesters seemed to prefer the exact opposite. Or all of it was a ruse, except for the display of a rather sophisticated degree of technology that had to be taken into account.
No, there wasn't even enough information to build up a proper stack, and he dismissed the unstructured thoughts. Once the Enemy was finished off, the Hierarchy needed to solve this mystery as well. If the aliens were truly telepaths or even related to the Witches, then they had to be dealt with, too. Only after the very concept of telepathy was eradicated, could the sentient races be freed from its devious tyranny.
Ixitixil-Kittikik-tikkikal-16, supreme commander of the combined Khalkha divisions, was silently contemplating in his chamber. The invasion that he had helped to prepare was progressing well, even though the Enemy managed to spot this fleet in advance. It would be foolish to assume that his, or anyone’s meager ability could foresee every possibility. What separated him from any less dedicated commander, however, would be his meticulous preparation. Instead of proceeding with the attack plan number 7, he would now switch to the 12th contingency plan.
According to the new strategy, it was no longer necessary to risk a deep jump into Leido. The calculated losses would outweigh the possible gains, now that he lost the advantage of a surprise attack. Instead, he would mislead them regarding his true goals and direct the bulk of his fleet towards Azimol, leaving the mop-up operations for the secondary forces entering from Sala-101. After destroying the Azimol citadel, he could jump to Enedd to unite with the other Khalkha division that should’ve broken through Sala-128 by then. This way, the remaining Enemy forces would be corralled together and ground down between the two fleets, then the combined armada could proceed to Nezel undisturbed.
With mixed feelings, he checked the cornerstone of this grand endeavor next. After lengthy experiments, the psionic devices worked as intended and with the accursed Farsense blocked, the Enemy could no longer concentrate their meager forces to intercept the Hierarchy fleets. The fortunes were now reversed and by exploiting the moment of confusion that this disruption had surely caused, it was only a matter of time until the Hierarchy would end this lengthy conflict.
Everything seemed in order, but to assume so amounted to a display of hubris, and he went through the available data and battle plans for the 11th time. Before long, he realized that his thoughts drifted off and that the last two loops were unnecessary, going far beyond what could be regarded as adequate, thus lowering his efficiency by 7.52 percent. Was it perhaps anxiety about the outcome of this campaign, or even worse, regarding his success as its Commander?
Clicking his mandibles in annoyance at the lapse in self-control, he instead concentrated on the root of the problem that bothered him the most. This strange ship or those aliens that called themselves the Darlock were not recorded anywhere. Even the 2691 eager units that volunteered to analyze this conundrum could not produce any satisfactory results. The alien’s utterly mysterious goals, abilities and the incredible drive system that demonstrated a superior level of technology were an unwelcome wildcard in the grand scheme.
Apparently, those aliens were telepaths, yet unlike the accursed Witches, they were not affected by the new devices. Instead, it seemed like they were warning them from adopting those nefarious tricks, something he had to agree with, even though it was a necessary measure. Were the Darlocks yet another artifice of the dreaded Soia? Their overly symbolic speech, riddled with allegories and religious interpretations, was difficult to interpret, but they were apparently very old.
Perhaps, given their vaguely humanoid form, they could be the Enemy's lost template race, or somehow related to them. Among all the species of the Hierarchy and beyond, nothing even remotely resembling telepathy was ever found. It would be too much of a coincidence for a completely unrelated race to possess it. There was also the point of what was referred to as their un-Brothers, an offshoot species, or maybe a rogue faction. The Darloks claimed to abide by some ritual oath of non-interference, yet those so-called Harvesters seemed to prefer the exact opposite. Or all of it was a ruse, except for the display of a rather sophisticated degree of technology that had to be taken into account.
No, there wasn't even enough information to build up a proper stack, and he dismissed the unstructured thoughts. Once the Enemy was finished off, the Hierarchy needed to solve this mystery as well. If the aliens were truly telepaths or even related to the Witches, then they had to be dealt with, too. Only after the very concept of telepathy was eradicated, could the sentient races be freed from its devious tyranny.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XIX: The Return
Emberwing felt someone approaching, and the red-haired Teidar that had previously guarded the Lashret’s cabin entered the room. “Stillstorm ordered me to accompany you, perhaps to get rid of me as well.”
Beryl frowned, “This is a proper and also a very important mission!”
“The sleepy Listel, an annoying Mizol watchdog and the inconvenient newcomer, together with a particularly infamous Teidar, a truly extraordinary team.” came the sarcastic reply.
“I only fell asleep once, how long are you going to laugh at that?” the Listel pouted, “Also, why are you so overly gruff all of a sudden, Fireblade?”
“The Lashret said that situational humor seems to be a good way to relieve stress and urged me to try it out, too.” Fireblade’s overall tone was now deceptively calm, but with a hint of unbridled strength hidden just below the surface, “Given my lack of finesse, it will probably go poorly, so pardon me in advance.”
This joke wasn’t that far off the truth, and Emberwing wondered if she was indeed sent away. On the other hand, thinking that way would be detrimental to team morale, “I’d rather regard our mission as a test of my commanding abilities instead.”
The Teidar sat down, “This is just a temporary assignment until we get to the Azimol citadel.”
“Aren’t you curious about those Humans?” Beryl was surprised, “Another race of telepaths, hidden behind a mysterious lotai and then, the possibility of them being our template species!”
“Not really.” came the curt answer. “I’m only interested in any help with killing Shells.”
“Since they have quite the advanced technology and most importantly, can spot the hidden Enemy fleets, it will be a significant contribution.” assessed Emberwing.
“Unless they are playing both sides.” refuted the Teidar, “Who gave the Shells such unheard of ability in the first place?”
“Then it is also my duty to uncover whether that is true as well, although I’d rather believe them.” While the Teidar was quite cross, she nevertheless ensured that their conversation was secure from the Mizol’s snooping. Perhaps there was a tiny bit of curiosity involved.
“We can’t read them, so how are you going to do it, Captain?” Or maybe there wasn’t.
“By asking them, obviously. If you wish, I can even ask your share of questions, Teidar.” That caste was certainly difficult to deal with.
“Good, I like Commanders with courage.” approved Fireblade.
This strike group had certainly strange preferences regarding command style, “Is that how Stillstorm leads?”
The Teidar agreed, “Yes, we are a rather tight-knit bunch of squabbling misfits. No lesser Lashret could reign us in.”
“We are an elite unit!” protested Beryl, referring to the 51st with pride.
“Therefore I shall prove myself to be worthy of such an honor.” Emberwing tried to stop the silly banter.
“Stillstorm thinks that you are worth the effort, but it may be a political move, or perhaps whatever issue she had with your previous mentor.” The Teidar did not sound very convinced.
“I would never abuse my ancestral name for such underhanded tricks!” Emberwing was intent on making a name for herself, she felt that there were too many instances of her relying upon someone’s else honor. Stillstorm’s peculiar command style was hard to adapt to, but she decided to try it anyway and chose a traditional saying of her clan to reply with, “Whatever achievements I shall be known for will be earned by my own sword.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Fireblade sent the mental image of her standing upon a bonestrewn hill, torn and burned remains of hardtroopers around her.
She resisted that horrific vision and replied with the one of her terrible awakening in the silent remains of her ship, “I know what to wish for!”
The Teidar simply nodded, “Very well, you’ve made your point. Now, what is our real task? The orders are rather ambiguous, but that is to be expected if the Mizol are involved.”
“It may be possible to tune our sanzai to the Human one.“ Emberwing explained the parts that were not covered in detail, mainly the issue with her dreams and how that may provide a clue to Human lotai.
“Nightmares?” The Teidar sounded both genuinely amused and self-deprecating, “Then you have certainly the foremost expert on this matter before you.”
If rumors were to be believed, she battled her way through the Seren occupation, but also survived two instances of being the lone survivor after the destruction of her ship. This should’ve created a lot of emotional scars and would explain the apparent nightmares, but also her attitude. “So let us work together to make those horrors a thing of the past.”
“I doubt that my abilities will be of much use, but Stillstorm thought that my raw strength could speed up the matter. The Mizol may take up issue with the efficiency of my lotai” The Teidar released her shielding, “However, I doubt that anyone sane would want to get into my head.”
“Your talents are very much appreciated,” sent Tempo, “We shall try as many approaches as possible, excluding provocation, of course.”
Amused at what must’ve been a jab at Stillstorm, Fireblade replied, “So what do you propose instead, seduction perhaps?”
“Whatever is necessary,” emphasized the Mizol.
She was not joking, so Emberwing had to clarify, “The Humans have the custom of pair-bonding, and the Captain is in such a union.”
“We shall speak about their customs at length later then.” Tempo switched back to talking with the Human Captain.
Beryl was quite puzzled, yet not unhappy, “Seduction? Well, they do look like our males, but I have no idea how to do that without sanzai…”
“Don’t worry, the Mizol are trained in this kind of diplomacy as well, let’s just hope that she doesn’t specialize in Nissek courting rituals.” joked Emberwing since she remembered her making a Nissek comparison.
“Eww, no.” laughed Beryl, “They’d rather ask for a different kind of tribute.”
“I hate to interrupt your bonding that’s done at my expense,” sent Tempo in an acidic tone, “, but please focus on the task at hand. We need to depart soon, and there are things that we need to clarify. You promised them a refuel, so let Beryl compare if taimat is compatible with their systems.”
The Listel went over the data on her console and exclaimed, “Taimat is indeed suitable, but it’s not enough? Even if we transfer everything from this station, save for the amount necessary to scuttle it, it would amount to about a third of the requested volume.”
“Well, the Humans did say that the sprint with which they had overtaken the Shell fleet required a lot of energy.” recalled Emberwing.
“Fine, we’ll transfer whatever is available.” agreed Tempo, and resumed her talks.
“How fast was that ship, anyway?” wondered Beryl as she relayed the order.
Emberwing sent her the imagery of the acceleration and how the Humans explained it, which caused the Listel to tilt her head in puzzlement, “I've gone through most theories as to how the Historian Illusion drive may work, and you’re telling me that they have managed to invent not one, but two reactionless propulsion systems?”
“The Humans have found a derelict and achieved a number of breakthroughs based on its examples. This ship was actually built to test the various prototypes, which is also the reason why it has such power output and fuel reserves. The early versions of the reactionless drive proved to be very inefficient at first.” The other system was truly strange, though, and she described its details as good as she could, “Whatever they used for the sprint was also something they’ve learned from the examination of this wreck, and it’s even more of an experiment.”
“No, it’s not that easy!” Beryl pointed at her screen, “Tempo unlocked some files for me to study, and it says that we’ve tried to copy the Historian Illusion drive for 350 years! Countless scans, innumerable theories, all for naught! We still have no idea how it works, beyond mere guesses that it somehow shapes and redirects inertia. And then, using normal jump field generators in such a crazy way is impossible!”
“Perhaps they were lucky regarding what kind of artifacts they have found?” Emberwing was not very knowledgeable about the theory of hyperspace physics beyond practical applications. “The only additional hint that I can think of is that the Charon is shaped like the derelict which those technologies are derived from.”
“A discus hull?” The Listel stopped for a moment to search the database, “It could’ve been a Dreiman vessel, but to find a useful one would be even more outrageous.”
Fireblade interjected, “What’s the matter, anyway? The Barsam have an entire orbital superstructure around Armis, and there are enough Dreiman artifacts throughout Union space.”
“It’s not the same!” The reply was rather impatient, “Nearly all of that is just dead metal, a million years old scrap. To find something that can be powered up, and then to understand utterly alien technology in such a short amount of time, is just not feasible.”
“Yet here it is, a scout that’s bigger than the Imperial flagship.” Fireblade sounded a bit irked, “So who gave the Humans that technology, if they couldn't have developed it themselves? I don’t think that the Dreiman crew was still alive.”
Put into perspective, it was certainly strange. The Humans insisted on remaining independent, and that they were newcomers, but perhaps there was another power behind them? Emberwing shared her deliberations with the others, “The Humans have told me about their expansion that went corewards, away from the Empty Quarter. Maybe they have contacted a more advanced civilization and traded some technologies?”
“Traded for what?” The Teidar was unconvinced, “No empire gives out gifts, and I doubt that the Humans possessed something of equal worth. Maybe they gave the Humans what amounted to utterly obsolete baubles, and gained things which a backwards species cannot properly gauge the price of yet.”
“A highly developed civilization might perform selfless deeds,” The Listel revealed a fairly naive worldview, “Or they wanted to uplift a young species.”
“Nobody sane would give advanced technology to the barbarians,” Fireblade had the opposite outlook, “Unless they want to arm the savages for selfish purposes and have them carry out some dirty deeds on their behalf.”
“The Soia uplifted many species and shared their technologies.” Beryl refused to give up.
“So where did that charity led them in the end?” Her attempts were met with a sneer.
This whole thing devolved into baseless speculations and Emberwing decided to stop it, “Rampant paranoia won’t get us anywhere, so let’s shelve this matter for now. We can try to learn where or how they have acquired this technology later. The issue of their lotai and the invisible Shell fleets is our foremost worry.”
“Yes, Captain,” agreed the Teidar in a slightly exaggerated tone, “So what now?”
The Mizol was still talking with the Humans, and her assistant covered them with a lotai, therefore she decided to tell the two about the Humans in greater detail. “If you have any questions about the Humans, you can ask me now.”
The Listel was eager to do so, “So they have a half male, half female ratio? How is that working out for a warrior species?”
Despite the similarity, they were aliens, which Beryl seemed to forget, “This is the way that they have evolved. We don’t know how our own ratio came to be, or what technological advances are needed for such a feat of genetic engineering. I doubt that they could’ve changed their gender distribution even if they wanted to.”
“But this would mean that only half of their population could function as warriors?” Beryl was still puzzled.
“There are also females serving aboard the ship.” Emberwing included the images of Ellen Jardin and the others, “No matter how similar the Humans are, they are still aliens with a distinct culture.”
“Of course,” the Listel shook her head, she was apparently struggling to express herself without violating whatever restrictions the Mizol had set up. Her curiosity managed to win out in the end, “It is simply too strange to see a species that is so similar, yet so alien at the same time. However, if we study them, we may understand more about our own origins!”
“You do understand that I’m not shielding our conversation any longer?” Fireblade interrupted her, “The Mizol doesn’t want you to pursue this avenue of thought, so stop it. Well, she doesn’t outrank me, so I can say whatever I like. I don’t really care whether they are our template. We have forged ourselves into what we are now, and that’s what I am proud of.”
Emberwing had to disagree, “We are the true descendants of the Soia!”
“This is merely propaganda, big but empty words,” she emphasized that part, “which are worthless unless accompanied by deeds of equal grandeur that we have yet failed to accomplish.”
“This is not the time for a philosophical debate,” The Mizol intruded into their conversation, “and the preliminary negotiations are done for now. I’ve already ordered a Paset to gather enough supplies for the journey. We shall board the Human shuttle right after, so get ready.”
“What should we pack?” asked Beryl, “What accommodations does that ship have?”
“It’s a very short journey of about two days until we arrive at the Azimol citadel,” Tempo assured her, “There are enough cabins for everyone, so you don’t have to bunk with Fireblade.”
Emberwing did not have anything except for that bag Ellen Jardin had gifted her anyway. She remembered having left it in the conference room, but apparently it was carried here. “I’m ready, then.”
“Good, Cloud shall bring the supply bags soon, and we can depart.” Parat Tempo entered the cabin, “The Human ship will now dock with the station to transfer fuel. As soon as that is finished, we can jump to Leido.”
“Their ship is big enough to carry this entire station, so who is docked with whom?” commented Fireblade, “It's also quite suspicious how fast they agreed to host anyone.”
“I explained it as us Loroi preferring to converse face to face, and offered to come aboard in order to continue the negotiations,” The Mizol smiled faintly, “While it’s entirely possible for them to guess of an additional motive behind our offer, it’s likely that they also want to study us in greater detail.”
“An interesting choice of participants.” Fireblade raised an eyebrow.
“I’m the diplomatic officer, and you’re all part of this liaison mission,” Tempo sent in a very serious tone, “Please make sure to properly represent the Union.”
“The best impression we can make is not getting overrun by that Shell force,” Fireblade replied in a rather sarcastic way, “That would be pretty embarrassing, not to mention we’d have no need for diplomacy afterwards.”
“That was uncalled-for!” The Listel did not appreciate such humor, “Can you stop with those jokes, please?”
“My sense of humor requires more practice, I guess.” The Teidar returned to her forcibly calm tone that she used at the beginning, “I shall represent myself, my caste and the Union to the best of my abilities, make sure to do the same, Mizol.” Then, she showed a faint smirk, “Maybe you should dress more casual for that special occasion?”
“You are learning fast enough, Teidar.” Tempo smirked back, “Just make sure to look impressive and leave all the talking to me.”
“Did I arrive at a bad time?” Sensing the peculiar atmosphere in the room, someone at the door did not dare to enter.
“Come in!” Commanded Tempo and a Paset carrying several bags entered the room.
“I’ve gathered everything that you ordered, Parat Tempo.” said the young Loroi in an eager tone.
“Good, then we can finally depart.” The four grabbed their bags and exited the room to head for the shuttle.
Walking down the hallway, Parat Tempo addressed everyone, “There wasn’t enough time for a proper briefing, so it will be conducted aboard. Remember not to let your guard down, especially your telepathic shields.”
“I’m quite sure that the Humans cannot read us.” replied Emberwing.
“While it is indeed highly likely, taking any chances would be foolish. Since this is a matter of both diplomacy and intelligence, handling it all falls into my sphere of work.” asserted the Mizol.
According to the orders, it was actually her mission, thought Emberwing, but she was glad to let the expert handle the delicate matter from now on. Despite extensive schooling, the nuances of spoken language were still uncharted territory for her. This was indeed a good opportunity to learn how to handle the Mizol, “Every caste exists for a reason, and I shall defer to your expertise.”
Tempo’s reply did not give away any reaction at that attempt, “We must conduct a more detailed debriefing about your knowledge regarding the Humans that you’ve acquired.”
Before long, they arrived at the airlock, where Zarjow was waiting for them, “Welcome aboard and welcome back. Please proceed to the shuttle.”
He led them in, and showed where to stash the luggage, as well as how to strap in. Beryl had to comment, “It’s weird to be serviced by a male.”
“They are not Loroi males, please do not forget that,” reminded her Tempo, “This one should be the equivalent of a Mizol, be especially wary of him.”
“That sounded like professional praise.” Fireblade maintained a neutral expression and tone. "Or self-criticism."
“I’m not praising him, merely stating the facts,” Tempo turned to the Human,
“I’m looking forward to resuming the talks, and apologize for intruding upon your ship in order to conduct them. The circumstances are forcing me to diverge from the usual diplomatic protocol.”
“For a first contact with such a suspicious alien race as us, and at this unfortunate time, everything went well enough.” Zarjow smiled, “We also do not want to force you to divert any ships away from the upcoming battle.”
“Thank you for your understanding.” Tempo smiled in return, while leaking a remark,
“Suspicious indeed. The Humans would certainly want to assess our military capabilities, but it has to wait until after an alliance is signed.”
"Our ship is docked nearby, so the journey won't take long." The Operative maintained an amicable smile, "We can continue with our talks tomorrow, this must've been a taxing day."
"Of course, please contact me in the morning," The Mizol continued in sanzai, "Torret Emberwing, I'd like to conduct a debriefing as soon as possible."
The shuttle shook slightly, denoting that they’ve already arrived. Alexander Jardin stood up, “The refueling procedure is nearly complete, which means that we’ll jump soon. Welcome to my ship, dear guests.”
Emberwing felt someone approaching, and the red-haired Teidar that had previously guarded the Lashret’s cabin entered the room. “Stillstorm ordered me to accompany you, perhaps to get rid of me as well.”
Beryl frowned, “This is a proper and also a very important mission!”
“The sleepy Listel, an annoying Mizol watchdog and the inconvenient newcomer, together with a particularly infamous Teidar, a truly extraordinary team.” came the sarcastic reply.
“I only fell asleep once, how long are you going to laugh at that?” the Listel pouted, “Also, why are you so overly gruff all of a sudden, Fireblade?”
“The Lashret said that situational humor seems to be a good way to relieve stress and urged me to try it out, too.” Fireblade’s overall tone was now deceptively calm, but with a hint of unbridled strength hidden just below the surface, “Given my lack of finesse, it will probably go poorly, so pardon me in advance.”
This joke wasn’t that far off the truth, and Emberwing wondered if she was indeed sent away. On the other hand, thinking that way would be detrimental to team morale, “I’d rather regard our mission as a test of my commanding abilities instead.”
The Teidar sat down, “This is just a temporary assignment until we get to the Azimol citadel.”
“Aren’t you curious about those Humans?” Beryl was surprised, “Another race of telepaths, hidden behind a mysterious lotai and then, the possibility of them being our template species!”
“Not really.” came the curt answer. “I’m only interested in any help with killing Shells.”
“Since they have quite the advanced technology and most importantly, can spot the hidden Enemy fleets, it will be a significant contribution.” assessed Emberwing.
“Unless they are playing both sides.” refuted the Teidar, “Who gave the Shells such unheard of ability in the first place?”
“Then it is also my duty to uncover whether that is true as well, although I’d rather believe them.” While the Teidar was quite cross, she nevertheless ensured that their conversation was secure from the Mizol’s snooping. Perhaps there was a tiny bit of curiosity involved.
“We can’t read them, so how are you going to do it, Captain?” Or maybe there wasn’t.
“By asking them, obviously. If you wish, I can even ask your share of questions, Teidar.” That caste was certainly difficult to deal with.
“Good, I like Commanders with courage.” approved Fireblade.
This strike group had certainly strange preferences regarding command style, “Is that how Stillstorm leads?”
The Teidar agreed, “Yes, we are a rather tight-knit bunch of squabbling misfits. No lesser Lashret could reign us in.”
“We are an elite unit!” protested Beryl, referring to the 51st with pride.
“Therefore I shall prove myself to be worthy of such an honor.” Emberwing tried to stop the silly banter.
“Stillstorm thinks that you are worth the effort, but it may be a political move, or perhaps whatever issue she had with your previous mentor.” The Teidar did not sound very convinced.
“I would never abuse my ancestral name for such underhanded tricks!” Emberwing was intent on making a name for herself, she felt that there were too many instances of her relying upon someone’s else honor. Stillstorm’s peculiar command style was hard to adapt to, but she decided to try it anyway and chose a traditional saying of her clan to reply with, “Whatever achievements I shall be known for will be earned by my own sword.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Fireblade sent the mental image of her standing upon a bonestrewn hill, torn and burned remains of hardtroopers around her.
She resisted that horrific vision and replied with the one of her terrible awakening in the silent remains of her ship, “I know what to wish for!”
The Teidar simply nodded, “Very well, you’ve made your point. Now, what is our real task? The orders are rather ambiguous, but that is to be expected if the Mizol are involved.”
“It may be possible to tune our sanzai to the Human one.“ Emberwing explained the parts that were not covered in detail, mainly the issue with her dreams and how that may provide a clue to Human lotai.
“Nightmares?” The Teidar sounded both genuinely amused and self-deprecating, “Then you have certainly the foremost expert on this matter before you.”
If rumors were to be believed, she battled her way through the Seren occupation, but also survived two instances of being the lone survivor after the destruction of her ship. This should’ve created a lot of emotional scars and would explain the apparent nightmares, but also her attitude. “So let us work together to make those horrors a thing of the past.”
“I doubt that my abilities will be of much use, but Stillstorm thought that my raw strength could speed up the matter. The Mizol may take up issue with the efficiency of my lotai” The Teidar released her shielding, “However, I doubt that anyone sane would want to get into my head.”
“Your talents are very much appreciated,” sent Tempo, “We shall try as many approaches as possible, excluding provocation, of course.”
Amused at what must’ve been a jab at Stillstorm, Fireblade replied, “So what do you propose instead, seduction perhaps?”
“Whatever is necessary,” emphasized the Mizol.
She was not joking, so Emberwing had to clarify, “The Humans have the custom of pair-bonding, and the Captain is in such a union.”
“We shall speak about their customs at length later then.” Tempo switched back to talking with the Human Captain.
Beryl was quite puzzled, yet not unhappy, “Seduction? Well, they do look like our males, but I have no idea how to do that without sanzai…”
“Don’t worry, the Mizol are trained in this kind of diplomacy as well, let’s just hope that she doesn’t specialize in Nissek courting rituals.” joked Emberwing since she remembered her making a Nissek comparison.
“Eww, no.” laughed Beryl, “They’d rather ask for a different kind of tribute.”
“I hate to interrupt your bonding that’s done at my expense,” sent Tempo in an acidic tone, “, but please focus on the task at hand. We need to depart soon, and there are things that we need to clarify. You promised them a refuel, so let Beryl compare if taimat is compatible with their systems.”
The Listel went over the data on her console and exclaimed, “Taimat is indeed suitable, but it’s not enough? Even if we transfer everything from this station, save for the amount necessary to scuttle it, it would amount to about a third of the requested volume.”
“Well, the Humans did say that the sprint with which they had overtaken the Shell fleet required a lot of energy.” recalled Emberwing.
“Fine, we’ll transfer whatever is available.” agreed Tempo, and resumed her talks.
“How fast was that ship, anyway?” wondered Beryl as she relayed the order.
Emberwing sent her the imagery of the acceleration and how the Humans explained it, which caused the Listel to tilt her head in puzzlement, “I've gone through most theories as to how the Historian Illusion drive may work, and you’re telling me that they have managed to invent not one, but two reactionless propulsion systems?”
“The Humans have found a derelict and achieved a number of breakthroughs based on its examples. This ship was actually built to test the various prototypes, which is also the reason why it has such power output and fuel reserves. The early versions of the reactionless drive proved to be very inefficient at first.” The other system was truly strange, though, and she described its details as good as she could, “Whatever they used for the sprint was also something they’ve learned from the examination of this wreck, and it’s even more of an experiment.”
“No, it’s not that easy!” Beryl pointed at her screen, “Tempo unlocked some files for me to study, and it says that we’ve tried to copy the Historian Illusion drive for 350 years! Countless scans, innumerable theories, all for naught! We still have no idea how it works, beyond mere guesses that it somehow shapes and redirects inertia. And then, using normal jump field generators in such a crazy way is impossible!”
“Perhaps they were lucky regarding what kind of artifacts they have found?” Emberwing was not very knowledgeable about the theory of hyperspace physics beyond practical applications. “The only additional hint that I can think of is that the Charon is shaped like the derelict which those technologies are derived from.”
“A discus hull?” The Listel stopped for a moment to search the database, “It could’ve been a Dreiman vessel, but to find a useful one would be even more outrageous.”
Fireblade interjected, “What’s the matter, anyway? The Barsam have an entire orbital superstructure around Armis, and there are enough Dreiman artifacts throughout Union space.”
“It’s not the same!” The reply was rather impatient, “Nearly all of that is just dead metal, a million years old scrap. To find something that can be powered up, and then to understand utterly alien technology in such a short amount of time, is just not feasible.”
“Yet here it is, a scout that’s bigger than the Imperial flagship.” Fireblade sounded a bit irked, “So who gave the Humans that technology, if they couldn't have developed it themselves? I don’t think that the Dreiman crew was still alive.”
Put into perspective, it was certainly strange. The Humans insisted on remaining independent, and that they were newcomers, but perhaps there was another power behind them? Emberwing shared her deliberations with the others, “The Humans have told me about their expansion that went corewards, away from the Empty Quarter. Maybe they have contacted a more advanced civilization and traded some technologies?”
“Traded for what?” The Teidar was unconvinced, “No empire gives out gifts, and I doubt that the Humans possessed something of equal worth. Maybe they gave the Humans what amounted to utterly obsolete baubles, and gained things which a backwards species cannot properly gauge the price of yet.”
“A highly developed civilization might perform selfless deeds,” The Listel revealed a fairly naive worldview, “Or they wanted to uplift a young species.”
“Nobody sane would give advanced technology to the barbarians,” Fireblade had the opposite outlook, “Unless they want to arm the savages for selfish purposes and have them carry out some dirty deeds on their behalf.”
“The Soia uplifted many species and shared their technologies.” Beryl refused to give up.
“So where did that charity led them in the end?” Her attempts were met with a sneer.
This whole thing devolved into baseless speculations and Emberwing decided to stop it, “Rampant paranoia won’t get us anywhere, so let’s shelve this matter for now. We can try to learn where or how they have acquired this technology later. The issue of their lotai and the invisible Shell fleets is our foremost worry.”
“Yes, Captain,” agreed the Teidar in a slightly exaggerated tone, “So what now?”
The Mizol was still talking with the Humans, and her assistant covered them with a lotai, therefore she decided to tell the two about the Humans in greater detail. “If you have any questions about the Humans, you can ask me now.”
The Listel was eager to do so, “So they have a half male, half female ratio? How is that working out for a warrior species?”
Despite the similarity, they were aliens, which Beryl seemed to forget, “This is the way that they have evolved. We don’t know how our own ratio came to be, or what technological advances are needed for such a feat of genetic engineering. I doubt that they could’ve changed their gender distribution even if they wanted to.”
“But this would mean that only half of their population could function as warriors?” Beryl was still puzzled.
“There are also females serving aboard the ship.” Emberwing included the images of Ellen Jardin and the others, “No matter how similar the Humans are, they are still aliens with a distinct culture.”
“Of course,” the Listel shook her head, she was apparently struggling to express herself without violating whatever restrictions the Mizol had set up. Her curiosity managed to win out in the end, “It is simply too strange to see a species that is so similar, yet so alien at the same time. However, if we study them, we may understand more about our own origins!”
“You do understand that I’m not shielding our conversation any longer?” Fireblade interrupted her, “The Mizol doesn’t want you to pursue this avenue of thought, so stop it. Well, she doesn’t outrank me, so I can say whatever I like. I don’t really care whether they are our template. We have forged ourselves into what we are now, and that’s what I am proud of.”
Emberwing had to disagree, “We are the true descendants of the Soia!”
“This is merely propaganda, big but empty words,” she emphasized that part, “which are worthless unless accompanied by deeds of equal grandeur that we have yet failed to accomplish.”
“This is not the time for a philosophical debate,” The Mizol intruded into their conversation, “and the preliminary negotiations are done for now. I’ve already ordered a Paset to gather enough supplies for the journey. We shall board the Human shuttle right after, so get ready.”
“What should we pack?” asked Beryl, “What accommodations does that ship have?”
“It’s a very short journey of about two days until we arrive at the Azimol citadel,” Tempo assured her, “There are enough cabins for everyone, so you don’t have to bunk with Fireblade.”
Emberwing did not have anything except for that bag Ellen Jardin had gifted her anyway. She remembered having left it in the conference room, but apparently it was carried here. “I’m ready, then.”
“Good, Cloud shall bring the supply bags soon, and we can depart.” Parat Tempo entered the cabin, “The Human ship will now dock with the station to transfer fuel. As soon as that is finished, we can jump to Leido.”
“Their ship is big enough to carry this entire station, so who is docked with whom?” commented Fireblade, “It's also quite suspicious how fast they agreed to host anyone.”
“I explained it as us Loroi preferring to converse face to face, and offered to come aboard in order to continue the negotiations,” The Mizol smiled faintly, “While it’s entirely possible for them to guess of an additional motive behind our offer, it’s likely that they also want to study us in greater detail.”
“An interesting choice of participants.” Fireblade raised an eyebrow.
“I’m the diplomatic officer, and you’re all part of this liaison mission,” Tempo sent in a very serious tone, “Please make sure to properly represent the Union.”
“The best impression we can make is not getting overrun by that Shell force,” Fireblade replied in a rather sarcastic way, “That would be pretty embarrassing, not to mention we’d have no need for diplomacy afterwards.”
“That was uncalled-for!” The Listel did not appreciate such humor, “Can you stop with those jokes, please?”
“My sense of humor requires more practice, I guess.” The Teidar returned to her forcibly calm tone that she used at the beginning, “I shall represent myself, my caste and the Union to the best of my abilities, make sure to do the same, Mizol.” Then, she showed a faint smirk, “Maybe you should dress more casual for that special occasion?”
“You are learning fast enough, Teidar.” Tempo smirked back, “Just make sure to look impressive and leave all the talking to me.”
“Did I arrive at a bad time?” Sensing the peculiar atmosphere in the room, someone at the door did not dare to enter.
“Come in!” Commanded Tempo and a Paset carrying several bags entered the room.
“I’ve gathered everything that you ordered, Parat Tempo.” said the young Loroi in an eager tone.
“Good, then we can finally depart.” The four grabbed their bags and exited the room to head for the shuttle.
Walking down the hallway, Parat Tempo addressed everyone, “There wasn’t enough time for a proper briefing, so it will be conducted aboard. Remember not to let your guard down, especially your telepathic shields.”
“I’m quite sure that the Humans cannot read us.” replied Emberwing.
“While it is indeed highly likely, taking any chances would be foolish. Since this is a matter of both diplomacy and intelligence, handling it all falls into my sphere of work.” asserted the Mizol.
According to the orders, it was actually her mission, thought Emberwing, but she was glad to let the expert handle the delicate matter from now on. Despite extensive schooling, the nuances of spoken language were still uncharted territory for her. This was indeed a good opportunity to learn how to handle the Mizol, “Every caste exists for a reason, and I shall defer to your expertise.”
Tempo’s reply did not give away any reaction at that attempt, “We must conduct a more detailed debriefing about your knowledge regarding the Humans that you’ve acquired.”
Before long, they arrived at the airlock, where Zarjow was waiting for them, “Welcome aboard and welcome back. Please proceed to the shuttle.”
He led them in, and showed where to stash the luggage, as well as how to strap in. Beryl had to comment, “It’s weird to be serviced by a male.”
“They are not Loroi males, please do not forget that,” reminded her Tempo, “This one should be the equivalent of a Mizol, be especially wary of him.”
“That sounded like professional praise.” Fireblade maintained a neutral expression and tone. "Or self-criticism."
“I’m not praising him, merely stating the facts,” Tempo turned to the Human,
“I’m looking forward to resuming the talks, and apologize for intruding upon your ship in order to conduct them. The circumstances are forcing me to diverge from the usual diplomatic protocol.”
“For a first contact with such a suspicious alien race as us, and at this unfortunate time, everything went well enough.” Zarjow smiled, “We also do not want to force you to divert any ships away from the upcoming battle.”
“Thank you for your understanding.” Tempo smiled in return, while leaking a remark,
“Suspicious indeed. The Humans would certainly want to assess our military capabilities, but it has to wait until after an alliance is signed.”
"Our ship is docked nearby, so the journey won't take long." The Operative maintained an amicable smile, "We can continue with our talks tomorrow, this must've been a taxing day."
"Of course, please contact me in the morning," The Mizol continued in sanzai, "Torret Emberwing, I'd like to conduct a debriefing as soon as possible."
The shuttle shook slightly, denoting that they’ve already arrived. Alexander Jardin stood up, “The refueling procedure is nearly complete, which means that we’ll jump soon. Welcome to my ship, dear guests.”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XX: Fun and Games
The group was greeted by Ellen Jardin as they stepped into the hangar’s control room, “I greet you on board of the Terran’s Empire vessel Charon. I'm Tactician Ellen Jardin, and my name means “Moonlit Garden”.”
The Loroi, starting with Parat Tempo also introduced themselves. Meanwhile, Beryl was soaking up all the impressions, “They have indeed males and females serving together!”
“Of course, one of the guards was female as well.” pointed out Emberwing.
“Yes, that’s right, but, she was too big to be comparable to us?” The Listel introduced herself as well, then continued, “This one is the Captain’s bonding partner?”
“Which means that the Mizol has to behave.” commented Fireblade in a dry tone.
The Captain asked them, “Do you want to be guided to your cabins right away, or are you perhaps interested in a tour of the ship?”
“Let’s schedule one for tomorrow,” proposed Tempo and ignored the joke.
“Then let us proceed to the elevator.” Alexander Jardin pointed at the opening door on the opposite end of the room.
Beryl was still surveying the hangar and spotted the bigger, torpedo-like vessels, “Are those torpedoes?”
“They are too big for that, so maybe probes? This is an exploration ship, after all.” theorized Emberwing.
The Captain noticed her gaze and explained, “If you are wondering about those ships, they are automated couriers.”
The Listel turned around, “Does it mean that they are jump-capable?”
“Of course, it wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.” He simply shrugged.
“It’s far too small for that!” She had enough common sense to not say it out loud and quickly joined up with everyone in the elevator, “Automated?”
“Not yet clever enough to venture into the unknown alone, but they can follow a programmed course.” The Operative nodded, “The specifications are of course classified.”
“Did you see any drive outlets?” asked the Mizol.
“From this angle, no, but I’m sure that it has a reactionless drive as well.” The Listel sent an exact picture of them.
“That shuttle had rather simple, conventional drives, so this is apparently their current limit of miniaturization.” concluded Tempo, and answered, “Certainly, we can add them to the pool of possible technological exchanges as well.”
“There’s an additional problem, even if we omit the crew compartment, it’s still far smaller than expected. Their jump-field generators and inertia dampeners must be more advanced than ours.” Beryl paused for a moment, “I need to recalculate all the variables for a better estimate of their technological level. This hints at a broad and systematic degree of development, not just the matter of a few superior technologies derived from a wreck or traded from other sources.”
“This is quite troubling,” acknowledged the Mizol, “Make such an estimate the priority for now.”
Meanwhile, the Operative continued, “We can add them to the list, although I think that there are more important technologies to trade.”
The lift capsule opened, and the Captain led them into the corridor, “We have prepared four cabins for you, please proceed over there.”
Emberwing was back to her old room, and after unpacking the bag, she sat down on the recliner. Soon enough, the Mizol announced herself, “Can I come in?”
This was an inevitable part of her mission, “Yes.”
Tempo entered the room and sat down at the table, then beckoned her to come over, “We are surely watched, so let us keep the debriefing short.”
She joined the Mizol and told her about the adventures she had in the past few days. Tempo maintained her mind-shields throughout the debriefing, which made her sound cold and distant. “Those dreams are indeed far too alien, but at the same time, surprisingly detailed, yet with no apparent source. We shall check your mental health and telepathy with a psionic healer on Azimol.”
“It would be for the best,” Emberwing agreed wearily.
“I don’t question your sanity.” Tempo returned to a normal tone, “What I mean is that whatever dreams you had were most probably not entirely your own. Finding the source, and most importantly, the connection, will be paramount for our efforts to pierce that lotai.”
“Perhaps those dreams are influenced by the virtual entertainment the Humans enjoy.” Emberwing remembered about the offer of experiencing VR, “They also offered me to try it out, and perhaps I should accept that.”
The Mizol pondered for a bit, “Yes, it may provide an opportunity to ask about the contents of your dream in an unobtrusive way. For now, however, you should stick to the same sleep schedule. We can compare your dreams with those virtual worlds tomorrow.”
She was indeed too tired to argue that part, “Let’s hope that the dreams will be more pleasant this time.”
“Just try to observe everything, attempting to influence it, or even to induce a lucid dream may alert the Humans. Anyway, good night, I have more work to do.” Tempo left the room, so Emberwing followed her advice and went to sleep.
The dream simply resumed, and standing in that dirty alley, she looked down on the corpses of the assailants with a mix of guilt and confusion. Why was she so quick to kill them, or why did those adolescents try to mug her? Untrained civilians equipped with a small club or a rusty knife were no match against an armed and armored warrior. Yet they charged at her while radiating a burning hatred that no Loroi would or could normally harbor, and she counterattacked with an uncaring ferocity completely uncharacteristic of her. With the echo of that last scream still reverberating inside her mind, she left the scene as quickly as possible.
Guided by the dream, she wandered through this rundown slum. The inhabitants were now keenly aware of her, and hid to the best of their meager abilities. What confused her the most, was the weary resignation and utter lack of any reaction towards the killings. Whatever thought fragments she managed to intercept, were telling her of their sender’s desire to avoid any problems to themselves, without caring about others. It was not even cowardice or powerlessness, simply deep-seated despair, and the abominably mechanical drive to survive yet another day. They wore the illusion of being alive on the outside, but behind that thin veneer, there was nothing but an empty shell. Why would anyone lie to themselves like that?!
She woke up with a completely indescribable mix of emotions, chiefly disgust and hollowness. There was no way that those images stemmed from some kind of entertainment. It was also too weird for a telepathic attack, so was this perchance someone’s recurring nightmare? Or did she pick up random dream fragments and rearranged them into her very own mental torture chamber?
Fortunately enough, the cabin was now equipped with a bathtub, which she promptly submerged herself into. The cultural information exchange was at least good for something, and the hot water dissolved the disgusting feeling. The dream did not provide any answers, only more questions. Was her own psyche damaged enough to produce such an overwhelming feeling of despair, or was the everyday life of the Humans perhaps not as stellar as their technology suggested?
It was doubtful that the Humans would be entirely honest if pressed for an answer, thought Emberwing as she ordered a meal from the dispenser. In the past, they were forced to live in those arcologies and would eat artificial food made out of vermin. Was the situation better or worse now? Alongside the VR entertainment, a virtual tour of their homeworld could provide some more insights, even if it was rife with propaganda. For now, she needed a status update, “Charon, can you give me the position of the ship?”
“We are now in the system know as Leido and the next jump to Azimol is scheduled in six hours.” stated the computer.
Checking the watch assured her that she did not oversleep, “This is rather fast?”
“Current velocity is 2.3% lightspeed at 30g acceleration.” came the answer.
“Is this the ship’s top rate?” This was quite impressive for such a huge ship, although it was normal for the Historian vessels.
“Military data is classified.” This was rather expected.
“Can I at least see the system overview?” She was interested in the 51st whereabouts.
“Acknowledged.” The holographic display above the table showed her the Leido Crossroads nexus. The strike group was now approaching the Tizaba depot, where reinforcements were already awaiting them. Azimol must’ve received news of this incursion and dispatched additional ships to bolster the defenses. On second thought, no, a mere two divisions wouldn’t be enough, this was most likely an earlier precautionary measure since the Farseer network was apparently compromised. The gigantic Shell gatecrasher force would try to break through to Enedd and beyond, so this was merely a picket, at best. She assured herself that given the advance warning, the reserve fleet was already mobilized and could intercept them even without farsense. Azimol, on the other hand, should be safe for a short while. Only two ships were following them there, a frigate and of course that Barsam courier, which caused her to frown.
Expanding her senses, she spotted the Mizol and the Listel in the adjacent cabin, “I had another strange dream. We can discuss it now, or are there any other plans?”
“I shall come over with Beryl right away.” sent Tempo with haste.
The two entered her cabin and she told them about the most recent nightmare. While the Listel was just stupefied, the Mizol quickly began to analyze it, “While I’m not an expert in dream intrusion techniques, it doesn’t seem to be one. This is simply far too alien, the primitive level of technology, and the refugees. Normally, such attempts would undermine the victim's dreamscape very slowly, shifting it towards the desired goal in small, barely noticeable steps.”
“It was triggered by this image first, I think,” She suppressed a reaction to that admission and sent a picture of the walled city she saw in the lounge, “The dreams started from this point on, and they became gradually more elaborate. I’m still not sure what is my own nightmare, or what is not.” Emberwing provided an overview of the dream’s development.
“Azimol has a psionic healer, so we will consult her soon enough,” the Mizol assured her again, “For now, you should try out that VR the Humans like so much. Meanwhile, I have to resume the talks with the Human Captain.”
“Can I try it out, too?” Beryl recovered from the shock, and returned to her usual, cheery tone, “I’m trained in noticing all details.”
Emberwing pressed on her wrist comm, “Charon, I would like to have that VR system I was promised earlier.”
“Some qualified personnel shall be notified right away.” answered the computer.
“Is that one sentient?” wondered Beryl.
“I’ve asked it the same question, and it denied being self-aware.” Now, she understood the irony in this paradox, “But if it lied, wouldn’t that be a sign of true intelligence?”
“The existence of automated ships implies a fairly sophisticated level of AI development,” Beryl recalled the picture of that courier, “Although we have no way to test it. Perhaps the Historian Emissary could?”
“There’s no way I would trust that thing,” Tempo leaked clear disdain as she exited the cabin, “I’m pretty sure it already tried to contact them or attempted to infiltrate their systems. Most probably both.”
Shortly thereafter, there was a beeping noise coming from the door, and Emberwing replied with: “Enter!”
The ship's engineer and an unknown Human female entered the room. “Greetings, I’m William Steele, this vessel's shipwright and machinist. My spoken name would translate to Steel Helmet, so it’s surprisingly fitting for what would’ve been a Gallen, right? This is one of my assistants, introduce yourself.”
The yellow-skinned female answered in basic, slightly broken Trade, “Technician 2nd grade. Kawabata Hana. I’ve looked it up. Hana means flower and Kawabata is bank of river. Nothing fancy, sadly. Sorry.”
He nodded, “Most humans do not place any particular importance upon their names. In the past, they were sometimes assigned according to religious customs, place of origin, or based upon their wearer’s trade, but nowadays, there are no particular conventions.”
Both Loroi introduced themselves in turn. Emberwing repeated her request, “I wanted to try out that virtual entertainment to help pass the time.”
“I might be this ship’s foremost expert on its usage, which is also the reason why I decided to come.” The dark-skinned male chuckled and turned to the female, “Kawabata, would you be so kind to install it here?”
“A male commanding a female?” Beryl commented in a puzzled tone.
“These are aliens,” Emberwing reminded her, “Whatever hierarchy they have is based on other principles, namely the presence of telepathy.” Then she stood up, “Are there any preparations I would need to take?”
Steele shook his head, “No, we’ve reconfigured a standard set based on your race’s biological data. A deep-immersion aperture would require implants and conditioning, but this one can be controlled with those sensor gloves.”
The technician pointed at the recliner, where the gloves and a helmet were hanging on a console protruding from its side, “Everything ready.”
“Thanks,” Steele showed how to activate it and guided her through the calibration and a tutorial. “Do you have any questions?”
“It is self-explanatory, thank you very much.” Half-lying on the recliner, Emberwing realized that this was quite similar to simulators for fighter pilots. “What programs am I able to access?”
“We have compiled a list of various recreational simulations that would correspond to your cultural habits and translated them.” The semi-transparent helmet displayed quite the list.
It would most probably exclude those fictional worlds, but she needed to see them, so she sent to Beryl, “Ask him about those virtual worlds!”
“Why me?” The Listel was confused for a moment, before she realized, “Oh, so you want me to play the stupid one?”
“Not stupid, but overly curious.” Emberwing smiled inwardly, “This won’t be even a lie, right?”
“Fine!” The Listel was not actually angry, merely a bit peeved about her curiosity being exploited, “I’ve read the historical lectures and those virtual worlds seem to play a great role in your culture. Could we experience them, too?”
The Human rolled his eyes, “Most are far too specific in their background, it would take me way too long to explain all the references or to look for suitable ones. The automatic translation wouldn’t work properly either.”
“What about, Ronin 7?” The female technician tilted her head, “It claims being historic accurate. Has also unofficial Trade version. I liked very much. Helped to learn language faster.”
“That’s,” Steele scratched his head, “actually a good idea, now that I think about it. Yes, let’s unlock it.” A holographic console was projected from what looked like a stylized arm guard, and he used it to configure something. “You can now access this simulation. It’s based on a historical reconstruction, but was made to be interactive as a role-playing game. I think it should be very interesting, so I won’t spoil it in advance.”
“This sounds very intriguing, thank you very much.” It was exactly what she wished for.
“Good, then I shall leave you for a while. Contact me again if you want to install that in the other cabins as well.” He said with a smile and left the cabin together with the female.
“So, how is that working?” Beryl was eager to learn something new.
“I haven’t even started yet,” replied Emberwing and began looking through the tutorial. To have games based on historical settings was a novel concept. For the Loroi, legends were experienced through telepathic retelling, and history was simply a fact. Actually interacting with them or even living through them with the help of a simulation was a completely foreign notion. She remembered the Neridi having something similar, but it wasn't anything her traditionalist upbringing would approve of.
This game was set in an island nation called Japan, some 500 years ago. The protagonist was a master-less warrior, or a gauntlet as he would’ve been called in the Menelos period on Deinar, trying to make a name for himself in order to join a new lord. Despite all the cultural differences, its essence was not too dissimilar from the legend of warrior Vengeance, her clan’s founder. After her old clan was destroyed by an underhanded rival, she was forced to become a mercenary, but later managed to exact vengeance and forged a new clan that survived to this day.
“It must be very interesting, because you keep ignoring me,” This time, Beryl sounded somewhat angry. “Have you learned anything new?”
She explained the game’s idea and background, then concentrated on the visuals, “The simulation quality is very good, almost realistic. Perhaps there are other games that could’ve continued into someone’s dreams and, from there, provided that strange imagery for my nightmares.”
The Listel was not convinced, “There are notable differences, and why the Loroi refugees or those strange hybrids?”
“This is just a single example of an insular culture,” Emberwing sighed, “and the refugees were most probably constructed by my own anxiety about the war.”
“No! No, we shall never become like that, and we will not lose!” shouted Beryl, then added in a quiet tone, “Although I’m anxious as well.”
“I will do everything in my power to prevent such an outcome.“ Emberwing deactivated the helmet, “There must be other simulations or games based on their legends. Because they lacked telepathic retelling techniques, their stories would deviate from the original much faster than ours, until those became nothing more than fiction. Other stories may be purely fictional from the beginning.” She explained the myth of King Arthur and his fabled sword.
“Fictional stories are very confusing,” admitted Beryl, “Why waste time inventing or retelling them?”
“I don’t know, this is simply how the Humans think. We also have a bunch of popular stories that are too distorted to be considered truthful.” Now, she recalled that particular word, fay, which William Steele had used once. Why would the Loroi remind him of a myth? Could it be that this was similar to their own ancient legends, where memories of pre-fall aliens were transformed into monsters or spirits? Was this the origin of those hybrids?
She shared this insight with Beryl, who was immediately hooked onto this idea, “You mean that the Humans may have interacted with us a long time ago and retained those memories through legends?”
“We have no other leads to go by anyway.” Emberwing stood up, “It may be entirely fictional, or have some truth at its core. Right now we need to pinpoint where that imagery is coming from, then we can try to understand how it got into my head.”
“That Human seemed to be reluctant to reveal those legends.” Beryl stood up as well, “Or are they really hiding something?!”
“No, I’d rather assume that it is indeed the problem of adapting something for alien consumption on such a short notice. We should try asking about that in an inconspicuous manner.” They would also have to ask someone well versed in legends, so the only one who came to mind would be Zarjow. A verbal battle of wits and subterfuge sounded like a truly interesting challenge, “Beryl, do you want to see the ship’s arboretum?”
The group was greeted by Ellen Jardin as they stepped into the hangar’s control room, “I greet you on board of the Terran’s Empire vessel Charon. I'm Tactician Ellen Jardin, and my name means “Moonlit Garden”.”
The Loroi, starting with Parat Tempo also introduced themselves. Meanwhile, Beryl was soaking up all the impressions, “They have indeed males and females serving together!”
“Of course, one of the guards was female as well.” pointed out Emberwing.
“Yes, that’s right, but, she was too big to be comparable to us?” The Listel introduced herself as well, then continued, “This one is the Captain’s bonding partner?”
“Which means that the Mizol has to behave.” commented Fireblade in a dry tone.
The Captain asked them, “Do you want to be guided to your cabins right away, or are you perhaps interested in a tour of the ship?”
“Let’s schedule one for tomorrow,” proposed Tempo and ignored the joke.
“Then let us proceed to the elevator.” Alexander Jardin pointed at the opening door on the opposite end of the room.
Beryl was still surveying the hangar and spotted the bigger, torpedo-like vessels, “Are those torpedoes?”
“They are too big for that, so maybe probes? This is an exploration ship, after all.” theorized Emberwing.
The Captain noticed her gaze and explained, “If you are wondering about those ships, they are automated couriers.”
The Listel turned around, “Does it mean that they are jump-capable?”
“Of course, it wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.” He simply shrugged.
“It’s far too small for that!” She had enough common sense to not say it out loud and quickly joined up with everyone in the elevator, “Automated?”
“Not yet clever enough to venture into the unknown alone, but they can follow a programmed course.” The Operative nodded, “The specifications are of course classified.”
“Did you see any drive outlets?” asked the Mizol.
“From this angle, no, but I’m sure that it has a reactionless drive as well.” The Listel sent an exact picture of them.
“That shuttle had rather simple, conventional drives, so this is apparently their current limit of miniaturization.” concluded Tempo, and answered, “Certainly, we can add them to the pool of possible technological exchanges as well.”
“There’s an additional problem, even if we omit the crew compartment, it’s still far smaller than expected. Their jump-field generators and inertia dampeners must be more advanced than ours.” Beryl paused for a moment, “I need to recalculate all the variables for a better estimate of their technological level. This hints at a broad and systematic degree of development, not just the matter of a few superior technologies derived from a wreck or traded from other sources.”
“This is quite troubling,” acknowledged the Mizol, “Make such an estimate the priority for now.”
Meanwhile, the Operative continued, “We can add them to the list, although I think that there are more important technologies to trade.”
The lift capsule opened, and the Captain led them into the corridor, “We have prepared four cabins for you, please proceed over there.”
Emberwing was back to her old room, and after unpacking the bag, she sat down on the recliner. Soon enough, the Mizol announced herself, “Can I come in?”
This was an inevitable part of her mission, “Yes.”
Tempo entered the room and sat down at the table, then beckoned her to come over, “We are surely watched, so let us keep the debriefing short.”
She joined the Mizol and told her about the adventures she had in the past few days. Tempo maintained her mind-shields throughout the debriefing, which made her sound cold and distant. “Those dreams are indeed far too alien, but at the same time, surprisingly detailed, yet with no apparent source. We shall check your mental health and telepathy with a psionic healer on Azimol.”
“It would be for the best,” Emberwing agreed wearily.
“I don’t question your sanity.” Tempo returned to a normal tone, “What I mean is that whatever dreams you had were most probably not entirely your own. Finding the source, and most importantly, the connection, will be paramount for our efforts to pierce that lotai.”
“Perhaps those dreams are influenced by the virtual entertainment the Humans enjoy.” Emberwing remembered about the offer of experiencing VR, “They also offered me to try it out, and perhaps I should accept that.”
The Mizol pondered for a bit, “Yes, it may provide an opportunity to ask about the contents of your dream in an unobtrusive way. For now, however, you should stick to the same sleep schedule. We can compare your dreams with those virtual worlds tomorrow.”
She was indeed too tired to argue that part, “Let’s hope that the dreams will be more pleasant this time.”
“Just try to observe everything, attempting to influence it, or even to induce a lucid dream may alert the Humans. Anyway, good night, I have more work to do.” Tempo left the room, so Emberwing followed her advice and went to sleep.
The dream simply resumed, and standing in that dirty alley, she looked down on the corpses of the assailants with a mix of guilt and confusion. Why was she so quick to kill them, or why did those adolescents try to mug her? Untrained civilians equipped with a small club or a rusty knife were no match against an armed and armored warrior. Yet they charged at her while radiating a burning hatred that no Loroi would or could normally harbor, and she counterattacked with an uncaring ferocity completely uncharacteristic of her. With the echo of that last scream still reverberating inside her mind, she left the scene as quickly as possible.
Guided by the dream, she wandered through this rundown slum. The inhabitants were now keenly aware of her, and hid to the best of their meager abilities. What confused her the most, was the weary resignation and utter lack of any reaction towards the killings. Whatever thought fragments she managed to intercept, were telling her of their sender’s desire to avoid any problems to themselves, without caring about others. It was not even cowardice or powerlessness, simply deep-seated despair, and the abominably mechanical drive to survive yet another day. They wore the illusion of being alive on the outside, but behind that thin veneer, there was nothing but an empty shell. Why would anyone lie to themselves like that?!
She woke up with a completely indescribable mix of emotions, chiefly disgust and hollowness. There was no way that those images stemmed from some kind of entertainment. It was also too weird for a telepathic attack, so was this perchance someone’s recurring nightmare? Or did she pick up random dream fragments and rearranged them into her very own mental torture chamber?
Fortunately enough, the cabin was now equipped with a bathtub, which she promptly submerged herself into. The cultural information exchange was at least good for something, and the hot water dissolved the disgusting feeling. The dream did not provide any answers, only more questions. Was her own psyche damaged enough to produce such an overwhelming feeling of despair, or was the everyday life of the Humans perhaps not as stellar as their technology suggested?
It was doubtful that the Humans would be entirely honest if pressed for an answer, thought Emberwing as she ordered a meal from the dispenser. In the past, they were forced to live in those arcologies and would eat artificial food made out of vermin. Was the situation better or worse now? Alongside the VR entertainment, a virtual tour of their homeworld could provide some more insights, even if it was rife with propaganda. For now, she needed a status update, “Charon, can you give me the position of the ship?”
“We are now in the system know as Leido and the next jump to Azimol is scheduled in six hours.” stated the computer.
Checking the watch assured her that she did not oversleep, “This is rather fast?”
“Current velocity is 2.3% lightspeed at 30g acceleration.” came the answer.
“Is this the ship’s top rate?” This was quite impressive for such a huge ship, although it was normal for the Historian vessels.
“Military data is classified.” This was rather expected.
“Can I at least see the system overview?” She was interested in the 51st whereabouts.
“Acknowledged.” The holographic display above the table showed her the Leido Crossroads nexus. The strike group was now approaching the Tizaba depot, where reinforcements were already awaiting them. Azimol must’ve received news of this incursion and dispatched additional ships to bolster the defenses. On second thought, no, a mere two divisions wouldn’t be enough, this was most likely an earlier precautionary measure since the Farseer network was apparently compromised. The gigantic Shell gatecrasher force would try to break through to Enedd and beyond, so this was merely a picket, at best. She assured herself that given the advance warning, the reserve fleet was already mobilized and could intercept them even without farsense. Azimol, on the other hand, should be safe for a short while. Only two ships were following them there, a frigate and of course that Barsam courier, which caused her to frown.
Expanding her senses, she spotted the Mizol and the Listel in the adjacent cabin, “I had another strange dream. We can discuss it now, or are there any other plans?”
“I shall come over with Beryl right away.” sent Tempo with haste.
The two entered her cabin and she told them about the most recent nightmare. While the Listel was just stupefied, the Mizol quickly began to analyze it, “While I’m not an expert in dream intrusion techniques, it doesn’t seem to be one. This is simply far too alien, the primitive level of technology, and the refugees. Normally, such attempts would undermine the victim's dreamscape very slowly, shifting it towards the desired goal in small, barely noticeable steps.”
“It was triggered by this image first, I think,” She suppressed a reaction to that admission and sent a picture of the walled city she saw in the lounge, “The dreams started from this point on, and they became gradually more elaborate. I’m still not sure what is my own nightmare, or what is not.” Emberwing provided an overview of the dream’s development.
“Azimol has a psionic healer, so we will consult her soon enough,” the Mizol assured her again, “For now, you should try out that VR the Humans like so much. Meanwhile, I have to resume the talks with the Human Captain.”
“Can I try it out, too?” Beryl recovered from the shock, and returned to her usual, cheery tone, “I’m trained in noticing all details.”
Emberwing pressed on her wrist comm, “Charon, I would like to have that VR system I was promised earlier.”
“Some qualified personnel shall be notified right away.” answered the computer.
“Is that one sentient?” wondered Beryl.
“I’ve asked it the same question, and it denied being self-aware.” Now, she understood the irony in this paradox, “But if it lied, wouldn’t that be a sign of true intelligence?”
“The existence of automated ships implies a fairly sophisticated level of AI development,” Beryl recalled the picture of that courier, “Although we have no way to test it. Perhaps the Historian Emissary could?”
“There’s no way I would trust that thing,” Tempo leaked clear disdain as she exited the cabin, “I’m pretty sure it already tried to contact them or attempted to infiltrate their systems. Most probably both.”
Shortly thereafter, there was a beeping noise coming from the door, and Emberwing replied with: “Enter!”
The ship's engineer and an unknown Human female entered the room. “Greetings, I’m William Steele, this vessel's shipwright and machinist. My spoken name would translate to Steel Helmet, so it’s surprisingly fitting for what would’ve been a Gallen, right? This is one of my assistants, introduce yourself.”
The yellow-skinned female answered in basic, slightly broken Trade, “Technician 2nd grade. Kawabata Hana. I’ve looked it up. Hana means flower and Kawabata is bank of river. Nothing fancy, sadly. Sorry.”
He nodded, “Most humans do not place any particular importance upon their names. In the past, they were sometimes assigned according to religious customs, place of origin, or based upon their wearer’s trade, but nowadays, there are no particular conventions.”
Both Loroi introduced themselves in turn. Emberwing repeated her request, “I wanted to try out that virtual entertainment to help pass the time.”
“I might be this ship’s foremost expert on its usage, which is also the reason why I decided to come.” The dark-skinned male chuckled and turned to the female, “Kawabata, would you be so kind to install it here?”
“A male commanding a female?” Beryl commented in a puzzled tone.
“These are aliens,” Emberwing reminded her, “Whatever hierarchy they have is based on other principles, namely the presence of telepathy.” Then she stood up, “Are there any preparations I would need to take?”
Steele shook his head, “No, we’ve reconfigured a standard set based on your race’s biological data. A deep-immersion aperture would require implants and conditioning, but this one can be controlled with those sensor gloves.”
The technician pointed at the recliner, where the gloves and a helmet were hanging on a console protruding from its side, “Everything ready.”
“Thanks,” Steele showed how to activate it and guided her through the calibration and a tutorial. “Do you have any questions?”
“It is self-explanatory, thank you very much.” Half-lying on the recliner, Emberwing realized that this was quite similar to simulators for fighter pilots. “What programs am I able to access?”
“We have compiled a list of various recreational simulations that would correspond to your cultural habits and translated them.” The semi-transparent helmet displayed quite the list.
It would most probably exclude those fictional worlds, but she needed to see them, so she sent to Beryl, “Ask him about those virtual worlds!”
“Why me?” The Listel was confused for a moment, before she realized, “Oh, so you want me to play the stupid one?”
“Not stupid, but overly curious.” Emberwing smiled inwardly, “This won’t be even a lie, right?”
“Fine!” The Listel was not actually angry, merely a bit peeved about her curiosity being exploited, “I’ve read the historical lectures and those virtual worlds seem to play a great role in your culture. Could we experience them, too?”
The Human rolled his eyes, “Most are far too specific in their background, it would take me way too long to explain all the references or to look for suitable ones. The automatic translation wouldn’t work properly either.”
“What about, Ronin 7?” The female technician tilted her head, “It claims being historic accurate. Has also unofficial Trade version. I liked very much. Helped to learn language faster.”
“That’s,” Steele scratched his head, “actually a good idea, now that I think about it. Yes, let’s unlock it.” A holographic console was projected from what looked like a stylized arm guard, and he used it to configure something. “You can now access this simulation. It’s based on a historical reconstruction, but was made to be interactive as a role-playing game. I think it should be very interesting, so I won’t spoil it in advance.”
“This sounds very intriguing, thank you very much.” It was exactly what she wished for.
“Good, then I shall leave you for a while. Contact me again if you want to install that in the other cabins as well.” He said with a smile and left the cabin together with the female.
“So, how is that working?” Beryl was eager to learn something new.
“I haven’t even started yet,” replied Emberwing and began looking through the tutorial. To have games based on historical settings was a novel concept. For the Loroi, legends were experienced through telepathic retelling, and history was simply a fact. Actually interacting with them or even living through them with the help of a simulation was a completely foreign notion. She remembered the Neridi having something similar, but it wasn't anything her traditionalist upbringing would approve of.
This game was set in an island nation called Japan, some 500 years ago. The protagonist was a master-less warrior, or a gauntlet as he would’ve been called in the Menelos period on Deinar, trying to make a name for himself in order to join a new lord. Despite all the cultural differences, its essence was not too dissimilar from the legend of warrior Vengeance, her clan’s founder. After her old clan was destroyed by an underhanded rival, she was forced to become a mercenary, but later managed to exact vengeance and forged a new clan that survived to this day.
“It must be very interesting, because you keep ignoring me,” This time, Beryl sounded somewhat angry. “Have you learned anything new?”
She explained the game’s idea and background, then concentrated on the visuals, “The simulation quality is very good, almost realistic. Perhaps there are other games that could’ve continued into someone’s dreams and, from there, provided that strange imagery for my nightmares.”
The Listel was not convinced, “There are notable differences, and why the Loroi refugees or those strange hybrids?”
“This is just a single example of an insular culture,” Emberwing sighed, “and the refugees were most probably constructed by my own anxiety about the war.”
“No! No, we shall never become like that, and we will not lose!” shouted Beryl, then added in a quiet tone, “Although I’m anxious as well.”
“I will do everything in my power to prevent such an outcome.“ Emberwing deactivated the helmet, “There must be other simulations or games based on their legends. Because they lacked telepathic retelling techniques, their stories would deviate from the original much faster than ours, until those became nothing more than fiction. Other stories may be purely fictional from the beginning.” She explained the myth of King Arthur and his fabled sword.
“Fictional stories are very confusing,” admitted Beryl, “Why waste time inventing or retelling them?”
“I don’t know, this is simply how the Humans think. We also have a bunch of popular stories that are too distorted to be considered truthful.” Now, she recalled that particular word, fay, which William Steele had used once. Why would the Loroi remind him of a myth? Could it be that this was similar to their own ancient legends, where memories of pre-fall aliens were transformed into monsters or spirits? Was this the origin of those hybrids?
She shared this insight with Beryl, who was immediately hooked onto this idea, “You mean that the Humans may have interacted with us a long time ago and retained those memories through legends?”
“We have no other leads to go by anyway.” Emberwing stood up, “It may be entirely fictional, or have some truth at its core. Right now we need to pinpoint where that imagery is coming from, then we can try to understand how it got into my head.”
“That Human seemed to be reluctant to reveal those legends.” Beryl stood up as well, “Or are they really hiding something?!”
“No, I’d rather assume that it is indeed the problem of adapting something for alien consumption on such a short notice. We should try asking about that in an inconspicuous manner.” They would also have to ask someone well versed in legends, so the only one who came to mind would be Zarjow. A verbal battle of wits and subterfuge sounded like a truly interesting challenge, “Beryl, do you want to see the ship’s arboretum?”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Intermission J: A Tale of fairies, magic and elves.
Doctor Therese Sikorsky looked at the clock, it was a bit early for the lunch break, but she had felt a sudden pang of hunger for the second time already. With a guilty conscience, she reached for the jar of cookies hidden behind the console. This despicable act of wanton gluttony was met with swift retribution, the doors of the medbay opened and her friend Kawabata Hana burst into the room, “You won’t believe with whom I spoke just now!” Then, she spotted the attempted crime and pointed a finger at her, “A-Ha! Caught the cookie monster red-handed!”
“It’s for medical purposes.” Therese smiled and offered another one to her, “As a doctor, I’m going to prescribe this delicious medicine for you, too.”
“You are the best doctor ever!” Hana grabbed it, “Anyway, I spoke with two of the elves! Learning Trade did pay off, thank you for the help with that.”
“Glad to be of assistance, but they are not elves, you know?” Her friend was normally calm and collected, “What happened for you to be so hyper?”
“You kept talking about that sleeping beauty for days, too.” The technician tutted and wagged her finger, “She wished to try out VR, and I convinced William to bring me along in order to install it, since I also wanted to have a look. Good job restoring her, by the way, she’s a true elven princess. The standard package was apparently too drab, so they wanted to experience something interactive instead. I seized the moment, recommended Ronin 7, and he agreed!”
Certainly, she could be very enthusiastic if it came to her hobby of cybercrafting, “I’m glad that your game is now an interspecies success.”
“It’s not my project, I merely contributed a little. You know, seeing how there are more of them now, gave me the inspiration for a new game,” she grinned, “The brave Captain and his space elf harem! It will be immensely popular.”
“He’s going to fire you for such a ridiculous thought. Out of a plasma cannon, straight into the sun.” Therese chuckled, then added in a slightly more serious tone, “This is the reason why Zarjow imposed that gag order, we don’t want to weird out our long-lost cousins, at least not right away.”
“His excellency, the spoilsport,” she quickly looked up and down, “Uhm, sorry in advance if you’ve heard that? Anyway, it’s the perfect story, the dragon-slaying hero rescues an elven princess, then helps her people to fight off some horrific evil. They fall in love that can bridge the racial gap and live happily ever after.”
The Doctor rolled her eyes, “There are far too many games like that already. Also, it's not elves nor dragons, and the Captain doesn’t like that silly moniker.”
“Yes, I know, it’s just a joke, and they are still allowed.” Finally, Hana piped down and returned to her usual level-headed self, “It’s just too weird, to think that so many fantasy creatures are actually real sounds utterly improbable.”
“Just a tiny subset, most are completely fictional,” Therese pointed at her screen, “Thanks to Professor Carmona’s findings, we know that the Loroi are not a coincidence. As for the others, perhaps we simply tried out every possibility, and some turned out to be true? They are not perfect matches, not even close.”
“But why was that prediction so spot on in the case of the Loroi?” Hana pondered, “And then, they have real magic, even if it doesn’t work on us.”
“With all the stuff that we thought up, something was bound to come true.” Therese picked up another cookie, “We also have this magic now, although unlocking it for everyone is still a distant dream. Our team is pulling frequent all-nighters to unravel the mystery of the psionic incompatibility. Professor Carmona is well-known to be tenacious if she has her sights set on something.”
“No wonder that you have developed such unhealthy eating habits,” Her friend snatched that cookie away and put it back into the jar, “Let’s have a proper meal now, and you can explain that problem in greater detail.”
Doctor Therese Sikorsky looked at the clock, it was a bit early for the lunch break, but she had felt a sudden pang of hunger for the second time already. With a guilty conscience, she reached for the jar of cookies hidden behind the console. This despicable act of wanton gluttony was met with swift retribution, the doors of the medbay opened and her friend Kawabata Hana burst into the room, “You won’t believe with whom I spoke just now!” Then, she spotted the attempted crime and pointed a finger at her, “A-Ha! Caught the cookie monster red-handed!”
“It’s for medical purposes.” Therese smiled and offered another one to her, “As a doctor, I’m going to prescribe this delicious medicine for you, too.”
“You are the best doctor ever!” Hana grabbed it, “Anyway, I spoke with two of the elves! Learning Trade did pay off, thank you for the help with that.”
“Glad to be of assistance, but they are not elves, you know?” Her friend was normally calm and collected, “What happened for you to be so hyper?”
“You kept talking about that sleeping beauty for days, too.” The technician tutted and wagged her finger, “She wished to try out VR, and I convinced William to bring me along in order to install it, since I also wanted to have a look. Good job restoring her, by the way, she’s a true elven princess. The standard package was apparently too drab, so they wanted to experience something interactive instead. I seized the moment, recommended Ronin 7, and he agreed!”
Certainly, she could be very enthusiastic if it came to her hobby of cybercrafting, “I’m glad that your game is now an interspecies success.”
“It’s not my project, I merely contributed a little. You know, seeing how there are more of them now, gave me the inspiration for a new game,” she grinned, “The brave Captain and his space elf harem! It will be immensely popular.”
“He’s going to fire you for such a ridiculous thought. Out of a plasma cannon, straight into the sun.” Therese chuckled, then added in a slightly more serious tone, “This is the reason why Zarjow imposed that gag order, we don’t want to weird out our long-lost cousins, at least not right away.”
“His excellency, the spoilsport,” she quickly looked up and down, “Uhm, sorry in advance if you’ve heard that? Anyway, it’s the perfect story, the dragon-slaying hero rescues an elven princess, then helps her people to fight off some horrific evil. They fall in love that can bridge the racial gap and live happily ever after.”
The Doctor rolled her eyes, “There are far too many games like that already. Also, it's not elves nor dragons, and the Captain doesn’t like that silly moniker.”
“Yes, I know, it’s just a joke, and they are still allowed.” Finally, Hana piped down and returned to her usual level-headed self, “It’s just too weird, to think that so many fantasy creatures are actually real sounds utterly improbable.”
“Just a tiny subset, most are completely fictional,” Therese pointed at her screen, “Thanks to Professor Carmona’s findings, we know that the Loroi are not a coincidence. As for the others, perhaps we simply tried out every possibility, and some turned out to be true? They are not perfect matches, not even close.”
“But why was that prediction so spot on in the case of the Loroi?” Hana pondered, “And then, they have real magic, even if it doesn’t work on us.”
“With all the stuff that we thought up, something was bound to come true.” Therese picked up another cookie, “We also have this magic now, although unlocking it for everyone is still a distant dream. Our team is pulling frequent all-nighters to unravel the mystery of the psionic incompatibility. Professor Carmona is well-known to be tenacious if she has her sights set on something.”
“No wonder that you have developed such unhealthy eating habits,” Her friend snatched that cookie away and put it back into the jar, “Let’s have a proper meal now, and you can explain that problem in greater detail.”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XXI: Feyfolk
Beryl was intrigued, “It must be filled with native flora? Of course, I’m interested, but what does this have anything to do with our task here?”
Emberwing explained the context and how that word was tied to the arboretum, “I can express the wish to show it to you, and then ask about the meaning of that word as if perchance.”
The Listel frowned, “That’s something Tempo would do, can you really play the Mizol there?”
“Lashret Stillstorm told me that every prospective commander needs to learn how to handle the Mizol,” Emberwing shot her a glare, “Otherwise I would’ve interpreted that as an insult.”
“Traditionalists are really difficult to handle,” Beryl sighed, “I mean that this requires a certain amount of skill in the spoken word.”
“Well, I did study it extensively, since my previous mentor prepared me for the administrative path,” The Humans had even complimented her on those skills once, although it was probably flattery. Still, she felt up to the task, “We will simply take a stroll in there, it’s nothing extraordinary.”
“Fine, let’s go then,” Beryl transmitted a sense of anticipation, but then stopped, “Wait, how are you going to request for that particular Human without raising suspicions?”
“They need to have meals more often than us, and it should be around this time when they have a break and change shifts,” Her eidetic memory was of great help, “Even if he was assisting the Captain in the talks with Parat Tempo, they may switch out now. I also felt the ship jump a short while ago, and we might not have enough time later. So I’m going to ask who’s available to guide us, and if it’s not him, then we shall attempt something else.”
“Some great plan that is,” The Listel tilted her head, “There are far too many assumptions, we don’t even have any idea whether this word actually means something important. I’d love to learn more about them, but the Human Captain offered us a tour anyway, so why not simply take up on his offer when Tempo returns?”
Behind that quirky personality, there was certainly a sharp, analytical mind, so simply goading her by exploiting that curiosity wouldn’t work, “There were more instances of strange coincidences, but this case is the only one where we have a specific, non-Trade term to go by.” Emberwing listed a number of examples, like the various legends that Zarjow had told her.
“You are good at remembering and analyzing, why did you not join my caste?” The Tozet was puzzled, “With your talents, and an eidetic memory on top, you would’ve made for a far better Listel than a Soroin!”
This conjured the image and memories of her friend, Listel Sininran Amber, who also implied that on several occasions. Shy but empathetic, she avoided mentioning it too directly, because being a Deinar native enabled her to understand the restrictions that the clan traditions could impose. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, no, I stirred up a sensitive topic, again,” Beryl was genuinely apologetic, “But if you want to talk about it, then I can listen.”
“Perhaps later,” Emberwing suppressed the painful memories and continued, “Duty comes first.” She pressed on her wrist comm, “Charon, I’d like to show the arboretum to my colleague, but I don’t want to bother any of the officers if they are too busy. Is anyone free right now?”
“Certainly. Operative Zarjow and Captain Jardin are currently in the Lounge. I can notify them of your request.” answered the voice.
“Just as planned, we might ask about that city as well.” Remembering that the Humans were more prone to jump-sickness and wouldn’t eat before a transit, she adjusted her reply, “Yes, although I don’t want to disturb their meal if they have just started. We can wait until after they are finished, or perhaps someone else can escort us to the Lounge in the meantime?”
“Acknowledged.” The computer was very brief.
Beryl disagreed, “That won’t work, why not escort us to the arboretum directly instead?”
“No, I’ve noticed that they do not want their non-telepathic crew members to interact with us, at least without supervision.” refuted Emberwing, “This should limit the number of possibilities, either one of them comes here, or someone brings us to the Lounge. Once we arrive there, I’ll try to convince Zarjow to guide us.”
The door beeped again, and the big female guard entered the room, then actually spoke to them, “Hello, you wanted to be escorted to the Lounge?”
A bit puzzled about this turn of events, Emberwing simply nodded, “Yes.”
The Human smiled, “Are you confused why I came, or are you perhaps intimidated?”
“Both!?” commented Beryl, “we should bring Fireblade along.”
“No, I’m rather confused why you haven’t spoken a word before.” Emberwing quickly collected herself, “Yes, we should invite Fireblade as not to exclude her. Please contact her, Beryl.”
“There was no need to speak, and I’m not much of a talker.” She nodded, “My name is Gunndís Elvudóttir.”
The Loroi introduced themselves, and the Human continued, “Right, you give names meaning. In this case, you will like mine, Gunndís means Battle-Maiden and Elvudóttir means,” she chuckled, “Let’s go with River-Daughter.”
This was an interesting naming convention indeed, “A name fitting for a warrior.”
Gunndís laughed, “Yes, fourteen centuries ago. I can tell you more about that later, but for now, let’s get going.”
“Can we also invite our last team member, Fireblade?” inquired Emberwing, “We do not want to leave her behind.”
“Of course, you can bring along your Teidar guard as well,” The Human led them to pick her up, and together, they entered the elevator.
“So, you want to chase after a single word?” Fireblade wasn’t thrilled by this.
“Tempo is still busy, and is also hidden under a lotai anyway, so why not try something by ourselves?” sent Emberwing.
“Let’s treat this as an excursion,” proposed Beryl.
The lift arrived, and the four stepped into the Lounge. Fortunately, Zarjow and Jardin were already finished with their meal. The Captain welcomed them, “You wanted to see the arboretum?”
Emberwing looked at the holographic projection on the walls, it depicted an overview from atop a steep cliff. The endless blue sea extended as far as one could see, was this also an impression of their homeworld? “We just wanted to pass the time while Parat Tempo is still busy. After she is done, how about that tour of the ship or even a virtual tour of your homeworld?”
Zarjow looked at the Captain and smiled impishly, “Well, why not? However, I’ll accompany you, or it may look like a date in the park.”
Alexander Jardin rolled his eyes, “These jokes are really getting out of hand, and that gag order had actually the opposite effect on the crew.”
“What is a date, and what is the connection with a park?” pried Beryl.
“Just a silly joke, don’t worry about it.” The Human Captain chuckled, “We can combine the homeworld tour with the arboretum one. The other member of your team will join later on.”
After they exited the room, Emberwing asked, “Was that view back then something from your homeworld, like the city before?”
“Slightly redacted, but yes,” answered Zarjow, “The city is an artistic reconstruction of how a medieval one, that is a period around 1000 years ago, should’ve looked like. The cliff is also real, except that everything man-made was removed from the panorama.”
If that medieval term meant to be the same as the Menelos period on Deinar, then it could explain that apparently primitive level of technology in her dream, “Perhaps after an alliance is signed, we could exchange historical, as well as more cultural data. I found the myths that you have told me fascinating.”
The Operative agreed, “We would love to learn more of our cousins as well. Although Captain Mozin has already sent us an extensive cultural library, together with a set of their sermons and religious scripture.”
“Ugh, Barsam poetry should be banned,” sent Fireblade with annoyance, “I had the misfortune of serving with a fool that converted to their religion, and all that preaching was awful.”
“The Humans have abandoned their religions some time ago, and I also warned them about it,” Emberwing nodded, “I expected this, so what do you think about their myths?”
“A very interesting story of how religion can transform a society, which is nothing particularly new to us,” explained Zarjow as they entered the arboretum, “What’s truly intriguing are the underlying historical facts. It would be a fascinating challenge to separate truth from fiction, yet time is in short supply now. Anyway, here we are, do you want to see something specific?”
Emberwing assured herself and began enacting that plan, “Maybe something truly extraordinary? William Steele once mentioned the term “fay garden” which reminded him of us Loroi, does this arboretum feature anything of the sort?”
“Well, you are standing here, so in a sense, it already does,” The Human Captain laughed and turned to Zarjow, “I think we should explain that to our guests, if they went out of their way to set up the stage to ask that question?”
“So much for playing Mizol,” Beryl suppressed a giggle, “It was too obvious that you tried to lead the discussion somewhere.”
Zarjow shrugged, “I guess that it was inevitable.” He beckoned the Loroi to follow, “We Humans have quite the imagination, and over the course of our history it created a plethora of fantastical creatures up to gods. Many personalized various natural phenomena, others were exaggerated personifications of our own character traits. While some were rather abstract or incorporeal, a significant number resembled animals, us, or even a mix thereof.”
Having arrived at a bigger virtual grove, they stepped inside, and the holographic machinery resumed its work, showing a forest clearing. “A number of those imaginary beings, elves, fairies, djinns, kitsune, succubi, were either resembling humans, or could take on the human form. What’s more interesting is their mastery over the supernatural, magic.”
It seemed like her plan still succeeded, “Our mythology is heavily based upon what we think are reinterpretations of pre-Fall history and alien contacts. Even if the post-Fall Loroi were unable to understand advanced concepts, eidetic memories and telepathic retelling managed to preserve the essence of the ancient stories.”
“So that’s what you tried to learn,” The Captain shook his head, “Except that it is nothing but fiction. Absolutely none of those are real. There were numerous attempts to see examples of advanced technologies in those stories, or even to look for evidence of previous extraterrestrial visits, yet nothing of the sort was ever found. The first instance was discovered on our moon only quite recently.”
“Then, why the resemblance with Loroi?” Emberwing did not want to give up and addressed Zarjow next, “You have told me about a few legends with some interesting meanings.”
“Of course, but I’m chiefly interested in legends since they provide an insight into the psyche, not because I believe them to be true. Some myths do feature beings that are similar to you, yet they are ultimately fashioned after ourselves, and we are very similar.” He pointed at the projected scenery that showed some sort of small critters flying about.
“There is a subset of creatures called feyfolk that we need to have a closer look at. First are fairies, beings associated with nature and meadows,” The image zoomed in, and they saw a tiny humanoid with two pairs of transparent wings.
“Then here are the kobolds, mischievous house spirits that could help or hinder humans." The view shifted to a strange figure, small, greyish, huddled, albeit still humanoid, that suddenly jumped out of the underbrush. It had disproportionately huge ears and nose, and the only thing that she could compare it to would be a Neridi. It looked back and scampered away, "Finally, elves, that were almost forgotten, but became more popular in recent centuries.”
The imagery zoomed out, and a normal-sized figure entered the clearing. It was indeed closely resembling a Human, except that she had a slender build, finer facial structures, and most importantly, pointy ears. Exactly like those hybrids from her dream! Zarjow noticed her agitation and raised an eyebrow, “The origin of the pointy ears is not particularly clear, but it appeared rather late. As you can see, it is merely a variation of our base form, including a number of different colors.”
The next of those “elves” that entered the scene from the opposite direction had approximately the same skin color as the Loroi, and it seemed to eye the first one warily. “A dark elf, although in older stories, the dark was not meant to be literal, but merely a different faction or group.”
“That is too much to be a coincidence!” exclaimed Emberwing.
The silent guard stepped forward, “Those ancient stories are actually from my ancestral homeland. It was said that the elves were magical beings, gods, or their agents.”
“What kind of magic?” she perked up.
“All kinds of: dreams, illusions, possession and seduction.” The tall woman smirked, “Anything a storyteller wanted them to be, although a recurring theme was for them to be beautiful and enchanting, yet haughty.”
“Maybe they know about the Mizol, at least.” Fireblade was slightly amused, “It sounds just as silly as those Perrein legends about evil jungle spirits that lure travelers to their doom.”
Beryl was analyzing it logically, “I understand why they did not want to tell us of this right away. It is an interesting mythology, and it would require some effort to explain the similarity and refute the misconceptions.”
“Why do you assume that it is not true?” Emberwing was perplexed, “It’s exactly like those hybrids in my dream, and even the animosity between them is clearly visible.”
“Most of the non-Soia aliens and also the Neridi have a plethora of such imaginary beings, it is nothing extraordinary. Only our telepathic legends retain some truth, despite many subcultures having diluted it with their share of outrageous superstitions.” explained the Listel, “The only exception here is that the Humans are most likely our template, and therefore, look very much like us, so their mythical creatures would do, too.”
Emberwing sighed, she got too engrossed in something yet again, a habit that was more pronounced under stress, “I’m sorry if I dug up some embarrassing part of your culture.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” Gunndís Elvudóttir pointed at herself, “My matronym can also be translated as Elven-Daughter, even if I do not look the part. It was just too funny having elves straight out of a fairy-tale ask me about my name.”
“Moio Sagit!” Beryl burst out in laughter, “It is indeed very awkward!”
Even Fireblade joined in without showing it outwardly, “More like Barsam-Daughter, although she may actually win a mating duel.”
“Oh yes, innumerable interpretations of this elven theme were used for a great variety of entertainment works.” The Captain laughed out, too, “It would be undeniably awkward to look at them now.”
The silly banter could not last long, since Emberwing felt the Mizol approaching, “I am finished with the preliminary talks, and we will reach Azimol soon. This ship is even faster than I expected, its acceleration ability is truly impressive for something that is almost as big as the citadel.”
Tempo and Ellen Jardin stepped into the grove, the Tactician crossed her arms and looked at her mate, “I see that you are working hard on establishing a wholly different kind of diplomacy here.”
He shrugged, “Just some lighthearted cultural exchange between two Captains, she wanted to learn more about elves.”
“What did you do?” Inquired Tempo in an alarmed tone, “We have planned for a different approach!”
“And I followed through with that plan,” Emberwing realized that this was not quite the failure she thought it to be at first, “We more or less confirmed where the images of those hybrids may have entered my mind from.”
“Yes, they appear to be mere figments of Human imagination,” added Beryl, “A common trope within many other alien cultures.”
“It’s never as easy as it may look like on first sight! The Mizol sounded both weary and irritated, “This was only a possibility among many, but now we won’t be able to try a different approach any time soon.
Ellen Jardin was meanwhile not entirely convinced by the Captain’s reply, “We agreed not to divulge all that to our guests so soon. William might have blabbered too much, but there was no need to reveal the rest.”
“It was initially my idea anyway, and the time was right to clarify it as to not raise any suspicions.” Zarjow’s gaze focused on the Loroi, “I hope that the explanation was satisfactory to you?”
“I’d like to review it, since I was not present,” answered Tempo, “Although it is not exactly a priority right now. Instead, we can take up on that offer of a tour of the ship.”
“We can combine both points and begin the tour with the arboretum,” offered Alexander Jardin, “There’s still enough time until we reach your station.”
As the Humans showed them a couple of examples from their mythology, Tempo was still not satisfied, “I already thought of those things from your dreams to be related to Human myths and fantasies, but to try and confirm what their origin is? Right away and on your own, no less?”
“It netted us some results, so I don’t see any problems,” Emberwing refuted all implied accusations, “We are now a step closer to unraveling this lotai mystery.”
“Or not, we have no idea how those images are transmitted or received,” The Mizol was sending in a calm tone now, but some anger still leaked through, “Most importantly, you ruined a possible approach at learning about the origins of those images!”
Beryl objected, “The Humans have so many fictional creatures, and given our resemblance, it is not surprising. They are very imaginative, perhaps only comparable to the Arekka or even surpassing them.”
Tempo was switching between speech and telepathy, she occasionally replied to the Humans, but also found it necessary to criticize with sanzai in-between. “I honor your knowledge in psychology, Beryl, but as I said, it is not the only possibility. There might be a grain of truth in those legends, possibly derived from misunderstood Soia artifacts or mythified sightings.”
“Then they won’t divulge that anyway if they don’t want to.” Suddenly, Fireblade interrupted her, “We need to get past their lotai first, so curb down your Mizol paranoia for the time being. Our dear Captain managed to obtain some information, and it’s your task to analyze it now.”
“I’m merely trying to do my work without interference!” The Mizol’s weary annoyance surfaced again, “This should be obvious enough to understand.”
“All that back and forth will get us nowhere,” Emberwing was tired of this critique and addressed the Mizol in a mock tone, “Clan-Mother.”
“Of course, Clan-Princess,” The ship tour was conducted in telepathic silence.
Beryl was intrigued, “It must be filled with native flora? Of course, I’m interested, but what does this have anything to do with our task here?”
Emberwing explained the context and how that word was tied to the arboretum, “I can express the wish to show it to you, and then ask about the meaning of that word as if perchance.”
The Listel frowned, “That’s something Tempo would do, can you really play the Mizol there?”
“Lashret Stillstorm told me that every prospective commander needs to learn how to handle the Mizol,” Emberwing shot her a glare, “Otherwise I would’ve interpreted that as an insult.”
“Traditionalists are really difficult to handle,” Beryl sighed, “I mean that this requires a certain amount of skill in the spoken word.”
“Well, I did study it extensively, since my previous mentor prepared me for the administrative path,” The Humans had even complimented her on those skills once, although it was probably flattery. Still, she felt up to the task, “We will simply take a stroll in there, it’s nothing extraordinary.”
“Fine, let’s go then,” Beryl transmitted a sense of anticipation, but then stopped, “Wait, how are you going to request for that particular Human without raising suspicions?”
“They need to have meals more often than us, and it should be around this time when they have a break and change shifts,” Her eidetic memory was of great help, “Even if he was assisting the Captain in the talks with Parat Tempo, they may switch out now. I also felt the ship jump a short while ago, and we might not have enough time later. So I’m going to ask who’s available to guide us, and if it’s not him, then we shall attempt something else.”
“Some great plan that is,” The Listel tilted her head, “There are far too many assumptions, we don’t even have any idea whether this word actually means something important. I’d love to learn more about them, but the Human Captain offered us a tour anyway, so why not simply take up on his offer when Tempo returns?”
Behind that quirky personality, there was certainly a sharp, analytical mind, so simply goading her by exploiting that curiosity wouldn’t work, “There were more instances of strange coincidences, but this case is the only one where we have a specific, non-Trade term to go by.” Emberwing listed a number of examples, like the various legends that Zarjow had told her.
“You are good at remembering and analyzing, why did you not join my caste?” The Tozet was puzzled, “With your talents, and an eidetic memory on top, you would’ve made for a far better Listel than a Soroin!”
This conjured the image and memories of her friend, Listel Sininran Amber, who also implied that on several occasions. Shy but empathetic, she avoided mentioning it too directly, because being a Deinar native enabled her to understand the restrictions that the clan traditions could impose. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, no, I stirred up a sensitive topic, again,” Beryl was genuinely apologetic, “But if you want to talk about it, then I can listen.”
“Perhaps later,” Emberwing suppressed the painful memories and continued, “Duty comes first.” She pressed on her wrist comm, “Charon, I’d like to show the arboretum to my colleague, but I don’t want to bother any of the officers if they are too busy. Is anyone free right now?”
“Certainly. Operative Zarjow and Captain Jardin are currently in the Lounge. I can notify them of your request.” answered the voice.
“Just as planned, we might ask about that city as well.” Remembering that the Humans were more prone to jump-sickness and wouldn’t eat before a transit, she adjusted her reply, “Yes, although I don’t want to disturb their meal if they have just started. We can wait until after they are finished, or perhaps someone else can escort us to the Lounge in the meantime?”
“Acknowledged.” The computer was very brief.
Beryl disagreed, “That won’t work, why not escort us to the arboretum directly instead?”
“No, I’ve noticed that they do not want their non-telepathic crew members to interact with us, at least without supervision.” refuted Emberwing, “This should limit the number of possibilities, either one of them comes here, or someone brings us to the Lounge. Once we arrive there, I’ll try to convince Zarjow to guide us.”
The door beeped again, and the big female guard entered the room, then actually spoke to them, “Hello, you wanted to be escorted to the Lounge?”
A bit puzzled about this turn of events, Emberwing simply nodded, “Yes.”
The Human smiled, “Are you confused why I came, or are you perhaps intimidated?”
“Both!?” commented Beryl, “we should bring Fireblade along.”
“No, I’m rather confused why you haven’t spoken a word before.” Emberwing quickly collected herself, “Yes, we should invite Fireblade as not to exclude her. Please contact her, Beryl.”
“There was no need to speak, and I’m not much of a talker.” She nodded, “My name is Gunndís Elvudóttir.”
The Loroi introduced themselves, and the Human continued, “Right, you give names meaning. In this case, you will like mine, Gunndís means Battle-Maiden and Elvudóttir means,” she chuckled, “Let’s go with River-Daughter.”
This was an interesting naming convention indeed, “A name fitting for a warrior.”
Gunndís laughed, “Yes, fourteen centuries ago. I can tell you more about that later, but for now, let’s get going.”
“Can we also invite our last team member, Fireblade?” inquired Emberwing, “We do not want to leave her behind.”
“Of course, you can bring along your Teidar guard as well,” The Human led them to pick her up, and together, they entered the elevator.
“So, you want to chase after a single word?” Fireblade wasn’t thrilled by this.
“Tempo is still busy, and is also hidden under a lotai anyway, so why not try something by ourselves?” sent Emberwing.
“Let’s treat this as an excursion,” proposed Beryl.
The lift arrived, and the four stepped into the Lounge. Fortunately, Zarjow and Jardin were already finished with their meal. The Captain welcomed them, “You wanted to see the arboretum?”
Emberwing looked at the holographic projection on the walls, it depicted an overview from atop a steep cliff. The endless blue sea extended as far as one could see, was this also an impression of their homeworld? “We just wanted to pass the time while Parat Tempo is still busy. After she is done, how about that tour of the ship or even a virtual tour of your homeworld?”
Zarjow looked at the Captain and smiled impishly, “Well, why not? However, I’ll accompany you, or it may look like a date in the park.”
Alexander Jardin rolled his eyes, “These jokes are really getting out of hand, and that gag order had actually the opposite effect on the crew.”
“What is a date, and what is the connection with a park?” pried Beryl.
“Just a silly joke, don’t worry about it.” The Human Captain chuckled, “We can combine the homeworld tour with the arboretum one. The other member of your team will join later on.”
After they exited the room, Emberwing asked, “Was that view back then something from your homeworld, like the city before?”
“Slightly redacted, but yes,” answered Zarjow, “The city is an artistic reconstruction of how a medieval one, that is a period around 1000 years ago, should’ve looked like. The cliff is also real, except that everything man-made was removed from the panorama.”
If that medieval term meant to be the same as the Menelos period on Deinar, then it could explain that apparently primitive level of technology in her dream, “Perhaps after an alliance is signed, we could exchange historical, as well as more cultural data. I found the myths that you have told me fascinating.”
The Operative agreed, “We would love to learn more of our cousins as well. Although Captain Mozin has already sent us an extensive cultural library, together with a set of their sermons and religious scripture.”
“Ugh, Barsam poetry should be banned,” sent Fireblade with annoyance, “I had the misfortune of serving with a fool that converted to their religion, and all that preaching was awful.”
“The Humans have abandoned their religions some time ago, and I also warned them about it,” Emberwing nodded, “I expected this, so what do you think about their myths?”
“A very interesting story of how religion can transform a society, which is nothing particularly new to us,” explained Zarjow as they entered the arboretum, “What’s truly intriguing are the underlying historical facts. It would be a fascinating challenge to separate truth from fiction, yet time is in short supply now. Anyway, here we are, do you want to see something specific?”
Emberwing assured herself and began enacting that plan, “Maybe something truly extraordinary? William Steele once mentioned the term “fay garden” which reminded him of us Loroi, does this arboretum feature anything of the sort?”
“Well, you are standing here, so in a sense, it already does,” The Human Captain laughed and turned to Zarjow, “I think we should explain that to our guests, if they went out of their way to set up the stage to ask that question?”
“So much for playing Mizol,” Beryl suppressed a giggle, “It was too obvious that you tried to lead the discussion somewhere.”
Zarjow shrugged, “I guess that it was inevitable.” He beckoned the Loroi to follow, “We Humans have quite the imagination, and over the course of our history it created a plethora of fantastical creatures up to gods. Many personalized various natural phenomena, others were exaggerated personifications of our own character traits. While some were rather abstract or incorporeal, a significant number resembled animals, us, or even a mix thereof.”
Having arrived at a bigger virtual grove, they stepped inside, and the holographic machinery resumed its work, showing a forest clearing. “A number of those imaginary beings, elves, fairies, djinns, kitsune, succubi, were either resembling humans, or could take on the human form. What’s more interesting is their mastery over the supernatural, magic.”
It seemed like her plan still succeeded, “Our mythology is heavily based upon what we think are reinterpretations of pre-Fall history and alien contacts. Even if the post-Fall Loroi were unable to understand advanced concepts, eidetic memories and telepathic retelling managed to preserve the essence of the ancient stories.”
“So that’s what you tried to learn,” The Captain shook his head, “Except that it is nothing but fiction. Absolutely none of those are real. There were numerous attempts to see examples of advanced technologies in those stories, or even to look for evidence of previous extraterrestrial visits, yet nothing of the sort was ever found. The first instance was discovered on our moon only quite recently.”
“Then, why the resemblance with Loroi?” Emberwing did not want to give up and addressed Zarjow next, “You have told me about a few legends with some interesting meanings.”
“Of course, but I’m chiefly interested in legends since they provide an insight into the psyche, not because I believe them to be true. Some myths do feature beings that are similar to you, yet they are ultimately fashioned after ourselves, and we are very similar.” He pointed at the projected scenery that showed some sort of small critters flying about.
“There is a subset of creatures called feyfolk that we need to have a closer look at. First are fairies, beings associated with nature and meadows,” The image zoomed in, and they saw a tiny humanoid with two pairs of transparent wings.
“Then here are the kobolds, mischievous house spirits that could help or hinder humans." The view shifted to a strange figure, small, greyish, huddled, albeit still humanoid, that suddenly jumped out of the underbrush. It had disproportionately huge ears and nose, and the only thing that she could compare it to would be a Neridi. It looked back and scampered away, "Finally, elves, that were almost forgotten, but became more popular in recent centuries.”
The imagery zoomed out, and a normal-sized figure entered the clearing. It was indeed closely resembling a Human, except that she had a slender build, finer facial structures, and most importantly, pointy ears. Exactly like those hybrids from her dream! Zarjow noticed her agitation and raised an eyebrow, “The origin of the pointy ears is not particularly clear, but it appeared rather late. As you can see, it is merely a variation of our base form, including a number of different colors.”
The next of those “elves” that entered the scene from the opposite direction had approximately the same skin color as the Loroi, and it seemed to eye the first one warily. “A dark elf, although in older stories, the dark was not meant to be literal, but merely a different faction or group.”
“That is too much to be a coincidence!” exclaimed Emberwing.
The silent guard stepped forward, “Those ancient stories are actually from my ancestral homeland. It was said that the elves were magical beings, gods, or their agents.”
“What kind of magic?” she perked up.
“All kinds of: dreams, illusions, possession and seduction.” The tall woman smirked, “Anything a storyteller wanted them to be, although a recurring theme was for them to be beautiful and enchanting, yet haughty.”
“Maybe they know about the Mizol, at least.” Fireblade was slightly amused, “It sounds just as silly as those Perrein legends about evil jungle spirits that lure travelers to their doom.”
Beryl was analyzing it logically, “I understand why they did not want to tell us of this right away. It is an interesting mythology, and it would require some effort to explain the similarity and refute the misconceptions.”
“Why do you assume that it is not true?” Emberwing was perplexed, “It’s exactly like those hybrids in my dream, and even the animosity between them is clearly visible.”
“Most of the non-Soia aliens and also the Neridi have a plethora of such imaginary beings, it is nothing extraordinary. Only our telepathic legends retain some truth, despite many subcultures having diluted it with their share of outrageous superstitions.” explained the Listel, “The only exception here is that the Humans are most likely our template, and therefore, look very much like us, so their mythical creatures would do, too.”
Emberwing sighed, she got too engrossed in something yet again, a habit that was more pronounced under stress, “I’m sorry if I dug up some embarrassing part of your culture.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” Gunndís Elvudóttir pointed at herself, “My matronym can also be translated as Elven-Daughter, even if I do not look the part. It was just too funny having elves straight out of a fairy-tale ask me about my name.”
“Moio Sagit!” Beryl burst out in laughter, “It is indeed very awkward!”
Even Fireblade joined in without showing it outwardly, “More like Barsam-Daughter, although she may actually win a mating duel.”
“Oh yes, innumerable interpretations of this elven theme were used for a great variety of entertainment works.” The Captain laughed out, too, “It would be undeniably awkward to look at them now.”
The silly banter could not last long, since Emberwing felt the Mizol approaching, “I am finished with the preliminary talks, and we will reach Azimol soon. This ship is even faster than I expected, its acceleration ability is truly impressive for something that is almost as big as the citadel.”
Tempo and Ellen Jardin stepped into the grove, the Tactician crossed her arms and looked at her mate, “I see that you are working hard on establishing a wholly different kind of diplomacy here.”
He shrugged, “Just some lighthearted cultural exchange between two Captains, she wanted to learn more about elves.”
“What did you do?” Inquired Tempo in an alarmed tone, “We have planned for a different approach!”
“And I followed through with that plan,” Emberwing realized that this was not quite the failure she thought it to be at first, “We more or less confirmed where the images of those hybrids may have entered my mind from.”
“Yes, they appear to be mere figments of Human imagination,” added Beryl, “A common trope within many other alien cultures.”
“It’s never as easy as it may look like on first sight! The Mizol sounded both weary and irritated, “This was only a possibility among many, but now we won’t be able to try a different approach any time soon.
Ellen Jardin was meanwhile not entirely convinced by the Captain’s reply, “We agreed not to divulge all that to our guests so soon. William might have blabbered too much, but there was no need to reveal the rest.”
“It was initially my idea anyway, and the time was right to clarify it as to not raise any suspicions.” Zarjow’s gaze focused on the Loroi, “I hope that the explanation was satisfactory to you?”
“I’d like to review it, since I was not present,” answered Tempo, “Although it is not exactly a priority right now. Instead, we can take up on that offer of a tour of the ship.”
“We can combine both points and begin the tour with the arboretum,” offered Alexander Jardin, “There’s still enough time until we reach your station.”
As the Humans showed them a couple of examples from their mythology, Tempo was still not satisfied, “I already thought of those things from your dreams to be related to Human myths and fantasies, but to try and confirm what their origin is? Right away and on your own, no less?”
“It netted us some results, so I don’t see any problems,” Emberwing refuted all implied accusations, “We are now a step closer to unraveling this lotai mystery.”
“Or not, we have no idea how those images are transmitted or received,” The Mizol was sending in a calm tone now, but some anger still leaked through, “Most importantly, you ruined a possible approach at learning about the origins of those images!”
Beryl objected, “The Humans have so many fictional creatures, and given our resemblance, it is not surprising. They are very imaginative, perhaps only comparable to the Arekka or even surpassing them.”
Tempo was switching between speech and telepathy, she occasionally replied to the Humans, but also found it necessary to criticize with sanzai in-between. “I honor your knowledge in psychology, Beryl, but as I said, it is not the only possibility. There might be a grain of truth in those legends, possibly derived from misunderstood Soia artifacts or mythified sightings.”
“Then they won’t divulge that anyway if they don’t want to.” Suddenly, Fireblade interrupted her, “We need to get past their lotai first, so curb down your Mizol paranoia for the time being. Our dear Captain managed to obtain some information, and it’s your task to analyze it now.”
“I’m merely trying to do my work without interference!” The Mizol’s weary annoyance surfaced again, “This should be obvious enough to understand.”
“All that back and forth will get us nowhere,” Emberwing was tired of this critique and addressed the Mizol in a mock tone, “Clan-Mother.”
“Of course, Clan-Princess,” The ship tour was conducted in telepathic silence.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XXII: The Report
The four Loroi were led through various parts of the ship that Emberwing had already seen, first the arboretum, where they were shown some rather unpretentious pictures of the Human homeworld. Then, the cargo bays filled with the debris of the Shell scout, as well as the remains of her own cruiser. Looking at the twisted scrap that was left of the Blazing Spear caused a wave of painful melancholy to wash over her. It was agreed that both wrecks would be transferred to the citadel, especially since the Enemy ship could hold more clues about the still mysterious fleet-lotai.
Beryl was very interested in the bridge that they visited after, “So those helmeted crew-members control the ship through a simulation? It is a truly unique approach.”
“To be connected to the deep-immersion VR aperture is like experiencing a waking dream,” Zarjow looked at Emberwing, “It is much more profound than the simple VR that you’ve experienced.”
“But it is also very invasive?” She recalled that William Steele mentioned not only implants, but some sort of special conditioning.
“Since only a few of us are telepathic, we had to improvise in order to achieve a higher degree of cooperation.” explained Alexander Jardin, “You can probably reach that easily thanks to sanzai?”
“Yes, it allows us to act as a unit and exchange information at a significantly higher rate than with speech.” boasted Beryl, “This is how we can outperform the Shells in ship combat!”
“To share thoughts and act as a whole must be a significant boon indeed,” said Zarjow, “On the other hand, ship-to- ship communication still needs conventional channels since your telepathy is limited in range.”
“Do not reveal any sensitive data!” Tempo silenced the Listel and continued instead of her, “The exact limits of our abilities are of course classified. Depending on the terms of the alliance, we might exchange tactical data and combat strategies as well.”
“Let us proceed to the conference room next,” proposed Zarjow. Leaving the Tactician on the bridge, the rest departed, “I’m just assuming that telepathic communication between all crew members must be especially advantageous, since you do not permit your allies to serve aboard your ships.”
“This is the primary reason, yes,” lied the Mizol, “although many of them serve in various support roles.”
“You also wondered about our courier drone ships,” stated the Captain as they entered the conference room, “don’t you employ AIs or autonomous systems as well?”
“That was far beyond mere AIs!” exclaimed Beryl, then answered with a half-truth, “We have automated systems, of course, it would be impossible to operate starships otherwise. As to automated vessels, this is against our warrior traditions.”
Alexander Jardin continued, “Sometimes, they might be useful, at least for support roles. The Historians employ them extensively, yet exclusively. Judging from your reactions, and the impression I had of the Emissary, there seems to be a significant level of mistrust between Historians and the Union. This is despite the fact that a partnership would be beneficial for both of you.”
“Does he want us to install those puppet-things in our systems?” commented Fireblade with derision.
“Perhaps they already are,” speculated Tempo, “It is the Historians that are refusing most offers for cooperation or technological exchange. I hope that we can have a more meaningful alliance.”
“Of course, that is the primary reason why I spearheaded this contact mission,” agreed the Human Captain, “We merely wanted to learn if there is a cultural barrier that inhibits collaboration, perhaps rooted in your legends, or caused by your inability to read them with telepathy.”
Beryl caught up on that, “The latter is spot on, but what does he mean by legends?”
“Maybe related to something you two spoiled with your blabbering!” Tempo was evidently still angry, “Again, it is the Historians themselves that send only their personality constructs to act on their behalf, there are no travel restrictions placed on them from our side. We also don’t have legends concerning AI, and frankly, I did not understand that question.”
“So they do not trust you, a rather sensible choice if they have the technology to do so,” Zarjow showed a crooked smile, “Let’s see, legends could be the wrong word. We simply had a lot of fictional stories where the machines would gain sentience, then rise up and try to get rid of us. While you do not like to create made-up stories, you may have preserved the idea of sentient machines in your legends instead and those evolved into such a prejudice against the Historians and their technology? Self-aware computers could be anathema to your beliefs.”
“Actually, I do know some stories about spirits inhabiting tools and weapons that could correspond to sentient computers.” remembered the Listel, “There is nothing resembling personality constructs, though, but even if it was, would that change anything?”
“Not really, because we always feared such problems ever since we met them. That’s the reason why we use projectors, and it has nothing to do with myths, but caution.” The Mizol was apparently not very fond of the Historians, logic or not, “I do not think that we are particularly prejudiced against them, increased security measures due to their advanced technology aside.”
“Forgive me for prying, I’m just trying to understand how you perceive other races and what bias mechanisms you have. We may be similar, yet there are notable differences as well. Especially due to our telepathic silence that may lead to the notion that we are artifices as well.” The Operative tapped his head, “I needed to confirm if the same set of rules would apply to us, too, or which degree of interaction you’d be comfortable with.”
What a roundabout way to ask how the Loroi would see them, thought Emberwing. Speech was indeed an art of its own, not that she would admit it to the Mizol.
“Sounds like they contacted the Emissary in secret,” Tempo offered the Humans a smile and assuaged them, “We do not see you in the same light, of course. Whatever issues we have with the Historians is a different matter altogether, completely irrelevant to our relationship. There might be some difficulties due to the aforementioned similarity and the telepathic incompatibility, but we will do our best to address them together.”
“Wonderful, since the timetable for the next stage of our talks is already set and approved, we can continue tomorrow. I’m looking forward to learning more about psionic amplification.” Alexander Jardin looked at the holo-projector that began displaying the Human ship as it approached the Azimol citadel. “Do you have any other questions before we conclude our business for today?”
“Nothing else comes to mind, so we can depart now.” said Tempo and added in sanzai, “A shuttle should pick us up soon, pack your things and be ready. There are new orders from Tazites Duskcrown, and the station’s Torimor awaits us.”
Everyone went back to their cabins. Emberwing, still a bit confused since the Mizol refused to elaborate further, began to stuff everything into her bag. Shortly after, they were picked up by the Human Captain and took the lift to the hangar bay. Through the window of the control room, she could see that the other vessels were rearranged to make room for a Highland-class shuttle. Alexander Jardin bid them farewell, and the four Loroi boarded the craft.
Only after it had departed, did the Mizol deigned to explain the hurry, “I’ve received a coded signal to alter our plans, so don’t interrupt me, the situation is already complicated enough. The sector commander took most of the main fleet to Enedd. We do not know where more gatecrasher forces may appear from, yet it’s clear what their target is, a breakthrough to Nezel and beyond. We consider the farseer network to be compromised and all the forward strike groups have either retreated, were destroyed or can no longer be spotted. The reserve fleet is mobilized and couriers were sent to the interior as well as towards Seren.”
She handed Emberwing a tablet with Admiral Duskcrown’s orders, which were very short: cooperate with Ambassador Silvermist and bypass the Shell fleet cloaking at any cost. “What of the original plan to pierce the Human lotai first? I thought that some of us could remain on their ship.”
“And how would I ask them for prolonged accommodation without raising any suspicions? Offer you as a tribute for the Captain’s pack? They are not Delrias!” Tempo sighed, “I don’t like it either, nor do I trust them, but Torimor Silvermist thinks that the risk is now worth it. She’ll receive us right after we dock.”
Beryl leaned over to look at the tablet, “Is the situation really so serious?”
“That’s the problem, we don’t know, and have no way to remedy that.” Fireblade offered her insight as well, “The situation must be indeed dire, though, they even dispatched a Highland to speed up the transfer.”
“But Seren will send reinforcements!” Thanks to this assessment, the Listel was now agitated, “Meanwhile, the reserve forces can hold them off!”
“It will take about eleven days for a message to reach Seren,” Fireblade sounded grim, “Maybe seven, if they attempt an emergency far-sending as soon as they come in range. And there might be more Shell forces underway.”
"Why are you so pessimistic?!” Beryl flared up.
“I always assume the worst and challenge it until I prove it otherwise with my own strength.” The Teidar was almost itching for a fight. Her deceptively calm demeanor hid a true Blade of Fire beneath it, and its heat could now be felt through the thin cover.
Emberwing breathed in and out, then sent in her best command tone, “We must win, and we will.”
“I like your resolve, Captain,” acknowledged Fireblade, albeit partly in jest. “Prove yourself, and I shall be your sword.”
“Our fight will be a different one, chiefly against time.” interjected Tempo, “Let’s go.”
The shuttle docked within the citadel, and they quickly exited through the airlock and the antibiotic chamber. A single dark-haired and pale Loroi was awaiting them, “I’m Mizol Parat Midnight, please follow me to the elevator.”
“What is the situation?” asked Parat Tempo.
“The Torimor shall explain what is necessary.” the other Parat very laconic, only faint echoes of her emotions could be felt in her sending. “Code ash six.”
“Acknowledged.” came the reply.
Emberwing felt that it would be for the best not to ask what that meant. The lift brought the group to one of the top decks and Parat Midnight led everyone to a door that was guarded by two Teidars, no less. A telepathic command that seemed to come out of nowhere urged them to come in, “Enter!”
The Mizol Torimor that awaited them inside had brilliantly white, long hair that were bound into a very elaborate construction. Her sending was strangely cloaked as if coming from everywhere at once, subdued, yet powerful, “Welcome and let us get straight to business. Before Tazites Duskcrown departed for Enedd, she left me in charge of this Human matter, with full command authority. I intend to secure their cooperation regarding the Enemy lotai, since this has the highest priority right now. Parat Tempo, what have you arranged for?”
“Yes Torimor, I have worked out a preliminary agreement regarding a technology transfer, and they promised to help us find a workaround for the Shell mind-cloaking ability. Tomorrow, according to their cycle, the Humans will send a number of their telepaths to experiment with our farsensing equipment and to exchange farseer techniques. Furthermore, they will transfer a recently acquired Shell wreck for us to study.” Reported Tempo to her superior in a crisp tone.
“Good, I shall approve a meeting with Bistima Eight Eye and grant them the necessary security clearance.” Torimor Silvermist nodded and turned to Emberwing, “What of their lotai, Soroin Torret Emberwing?”
She sent her impressions, “I believe that it is an involuntary effect, not strictly a lotai, but rather a mutual incompatibility. We might be able to adapt our sanzai to overcome it, given enough time and effort. There were a number of cases where I managed to intercept fragments of their dreams, albeit by yet unknown means.”
“There’s not enough time to test out a mere possibility, and we do not have the much-needed luxury of a Nedatan Tiret who could make sense of dreams.” The high-ranking Mizol ruminated for a moment, then continued, “There is simply not enough information, you should undergo a more throughout medical examination, then a telepathic test. First, though, sleep and see if your dreams change, since there’s now a distance to the Humans.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I or more Loroi remained with them? Also, leaving the envoys here, in the middle of a Shell incursion, is too dangerous.” Emberwing wanted to know more, and was not entirely sure about the chain of command in this unfamiliar situation.
“Of course, and normally, the Tazites would’ve promptly organized an escort to Seren, together with a bigger liaison team, especially since the Azerein should be there at the moment.” The Torimor focused on her, “With the situation as it is now, we need them right here.”
“I understand and shall do my utmost for the benefit of the Union,” agreed Emberwing.
“Good, we can’t waste any time on command chain issues either,” Silvermist offered her the faintest smile, and then switched to Beryl, “Listel Tozet Beryl, what is your assessment of the Human’s technological level?”
Beryl delivered a precise overview, “Surpassing ours in the fields of computers, reactors and drive systems, possibly others as well. Not only have they developed two different reactionless propulsion systems, even their inertial dampeners and jump drives must be at least a generation ahead of us. I have compiled a more detailed report, it only needs to be written down.”
“Impressive, do you have any clue how they reached this level?” The Ambassador was intrigued, while Emberwing wondered how Beryl managed to organize all the data in such a short amount of time.
“My preliminary analysis is that it appears to be broad enough to be genuine and mostly native. The initial theory of an uplift by a third party seems to be less likely. There is of course not enough data to be certain,” explained the Listel, “What I do not understand though, is how they managed to overtake us in a far shorter amount of time.”
“As long as they are willing to share, the how is not a priority for the moment, just write that report and let the Listel of the station worry about the rest. Your task is the Shell fleet-lotai.” Finally, the Torimor addressed Fireblade, “Teidar Pallan Fireblade, what did your probing accomplished?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Fireblade was brief and without any decorum, “I could not sense anything if probing them, but also no attempts from their side.”
“So it’s not an issue of power, either.” Ambassador Silvermist rubbed her nose bridge, “Then we are finished for now. Parat Midnight will be your contact, message her if you need anything. Dismissed.”
As ordered, they were given tablets with information regarding their accommodations, schedule and assignments. Midnight elaborated further, “Since you are all assigned to the Human task group, it would be for the best to adhere to their day cycle. We have issued all the necessary authorizations and security clearances. You can use your cabin’s consoles to access additional information as well as to compile any reports. Is there anything else?”
There was indeed, and Emberwing addressed her in an official tone, “As the last survivor of the 25th strike group, I must compile a report on the important matter of its destruction and the unusual tactics that the Shells employed. Furthermore, I also need to have my personal file updated and a new uniform befitting my rank.”
“We have received a summary from Torrai Lashret Stillstorm and your file was already corrected.” Midnight appeared unmoved, “You can use the console to go through all the standard procedures and formalities. A new set of uniforms and other necessities shall be delivered to your cabin soon.”
Emberwing suppressed the urge to complain about it all being anything but a standard procedure, snatched the tablet out of the Mizol’s hands and went straight to the elevator, ignoring everything else. She recalled the station’s plan and headed for the Promenade. Before tackling the insurmountably difficult task of recalling everything for the report, she needed a mental refuel. Fortunately enough, that little café was still there. She plopped down on the nearest seat, and asked the Neridi behind the counter, “Lorro, get me a big one of your special. No, the biggest one.”
The small, blue creature recognized her and smiled, “Welcome back, customer. You look like you’d need one the size of this citadel.”
“Then please do.” This frivolously decadent confection was exactly what she needed right now, and it disappeared in a heartbeat. To think that she went for 17 days without anything elaborate and sweet, first because of that stupid bet with Shortsword, then due to being on the Human ship, since desserts wouldn’t be anything she’d trust a strange food printer with. The proprietor waved with a new stick, “Should I make a second one for you, or perhaps for your sister as well?”
Right, the last time she was here together with Moonblade, who discovered this stand in the first place. “No, she won’t come anymore.” This also reminded her that she couldn’t pay automatically, since this armor was a facsimile, but that would be far too much to explain, “Anyway, put it on my tab, I’ll pay later. It takes some time to return from the dead, at least if it concerns bureaucracy and my account.”
The Neridi hung his floppy ears, “I understand, forgive me for prying.”
“Make a second one for her,” She received the fluffy white sweet and walked over to the gallery. The massive armored blinds were open, revealing a panorama of the endless star-field, with the planet that the station was orbiting in the lower left corner. Its night-side was mostly dark, because the colony had been long since evacuated.
With the rotation of the citadel, the view slowly shifted, and something began to blot out a part of the starry sky. The huge Human ship that now came in sight was completely black, except for the brightly lit opening of a cargo bay. Shuttles were flying back and forth, carrying off the wreck of the Shell ship. Or perhaps the pitiful remains of her own cruiser?
She threw the empty stick into a bin, sighed and turned back. It was time for her to sleep, but she doubted that it would be possible right now. Whatever, there was also the issue of the report that needed to be written, so Emberwing headed to her temporary cabin. The loss of an entire strike group was, after all, a serious incident, and she was quite skilled in the matter of writing reports. Otherwise, she’d be nothing but the lab miros for the so-called “Human task group” anyway.
The four Loroi were led through various parts of the ship that Emberwing had already seen, first the arboretum, where they were shown some rather unpretentious pictures of the Human homeworld. Then, the cargo bays filled with the debris of the Shell scout, as well as the remains of her own cruiser. Looking at the twisted scrap that was left of the Blazing Spear caused a wave of painful melancholy to wash over her. It was agreed that both wrecks would be transferred to the citadel, especially since the Enemy ship could hold more clues about the still mysterious fleet-lotai.
Beryl was very interested in the bridge that they visited after, “So those helmeted crew-members control the ship through a simulation? It is a truly unique approach.”
“To be connected to the deep-immersion VR aperture is like experiencing a waking dream,” Zarjow looked at Emberwing, “It is much more profound than the simple VR that you’ve experienced.”
“But it is also very invasive?” She recalled that William Steele mentioned not only implants, but some sort of special conditioning.
“Since only a few of us are telepathic, we had to improvise in order to achieve a higher degree of cooperation.” explained Alexander Jardin, “You can probably reach that easily thanks to sanzai?”
“Yes, it allows us to act as a unit and exchange information at a significantly higher rate than with speech.” boasted Beryl, “This is how we can outperform the Shells in ship combat!”
“To share thoughts and act as a whole must be a significant boon indeed,” said Zarjow, “On the other hand, ship-to- ship communication still needs conventional channels since your telepathy is limited in range.”
“Do not reveal any sensitive data!” Tempo silenced the Listel and continued instead of her, “The exact limits of our abilities are of course classified. Depending on the terms of the alliance, we might exchange tactical data and combat strategies as well.”
“Let us proceed to the conference room next,” proposed Zarjow. Leaving the Tactician on the bridge, the rest departed, “I’m just assuming that telepathic communication between all crew members must be especially advantageous, since you do not permit your allies to serve aboard your ships.”
“This is the primary reason, yes,” lied the Mizol, “although many of them serve in various support roles.”
“You also wondered about our courier drone ships,” stated the Captain as they entered the conference room, “don’t you employ AIs or autonomous systems as well?”
“That was far beyond mere AIs!” exclaimed Beryl, then answered with a half-truth, “We have automated systems, of course, it would be impossible to operate starships otherwise. As to automated vessels, this is against our warrior traditions.”
Alexander Jardin continued, “Sometimes, they might be useful, at least for support roles. The Historians employ them extensively, yet exclusively. Judging from your reactions, and the impression I had of the Emissary, there seems to be a significant level of mistrust between Historians and the Union. This is despite the fact that a partnership would be beneficial for both of you.”
“Does he want us to install those puppet-things in our systems?” commented Fireblade with derision.
“Perhaps they already are,” speculated Tempo, “It is the Historians that are refusing most offers for cooperation or technological exchange. I hope that we can have a more meaningful alliance.”
“Of course, that is the primary reason why I spearheaded this contact mission,” agreed the Human Captain, “We merely wanted to learn if there is a cultural barrier that inhibits collaboration, perhaps rooted in your legends, or caused by your inability to read them with telepathy.”
Beryl caught up on that, “The latter is spot on, but what does he mean by legends?”
“Maybe related to something you two spoiled with your blabbering!” Tempo was evidently still angry, “Again, it is the Historians themselves that send only their personality constructs to act on their behalf, there are no travel restrictions placed on them from our side. We also don’t have legends concerning AI, and frankly, I did not understand that question.”
“So they do not trust you, a rather sensible choice if they have the technology to do so,” Zarjow showed a crooked smile, “Let’s see, legends could be the wrong word. We simply had a lot of fictional stories where the machines would gain sentience, then rise up and try to get rid of us. While you do not like to create made-up stories, you may have preserved the idea of sentient machines in your legends instead and those evolved into such a prejudice against the Historians and their technology? Self-aware computers could be anathema to your beliefs.”
“Actually, I do know some stories about spirits inhabiting tools and weapons that could correspond to sentient computers.” remembered the Listel, “There is nothing resembling personality constructs, though, but even if it was, would that change anything?”
“Not really, because we always feared such problems ever since we met them. That’s the reason why we use projectors, and it has nothing to do with myths, but caution.” The Mizol was apparently not very fond of the Historians, logic or not, “I do not think that we are particularly prejudiced against them, increased security measures due to their advanced technology aside.”
“Forgive me for prying, I’m just trying to understand how you perceive other races and what bias mechanisms you have. We may be similar, yet there are notable differences as well. Especially due to our telepathic silence that may lead to the notion that we are artifices as well.” The Operative tapped his head, “I needed to confirm if the same set of rules would apply to us, too, or which degree of interaction you’d be comfortable with.”
What a roundabout way to ask how the Loroi would see them, thought Emberwing. Speech was indeed an art of its own, not that she would admit it to the Mizol.
“Sounds like they contacted the Emissary in secret,” Tempo offered the Humans a smile and assuaged them, “We do not see you in the same light, of course. Whatever issues we have with the Historians is a different matter altogether, completely irrelevant to our relationship. There might be some difficulties due to the aforementioned similarity and the telepathic incompatibility, but we will do our best to address them together.”
“Wonderful, since the timetable for the next stage of our talks is already set and approved, we can continue tomorrow. I’m looking forward to learning more about psionic amplification.” Alexander Jardin looked at the holo-projector that began displaying the Human ship as it approached the Azimol citadel. “Do you have any other questions before we conclude our business for today?”
“Nothing else comes to mind, so we can depart now.” said Tempo and added in sanzai, “A shuttle should pick us up soon, pack your things and be ready. There are new orders from Tazites Duskcrown, and the station’s Torimor awaits us.”
Everyone went back to their cabins. Emberwing, still a bit confused since the Mizol refused to elaborate further, began to stuff everything into her bag. Shortly after, they were picked up by the Human Captain and took the lift to the hangar bay. Through the window of the control room, she could see that the other vessels were rearranged to make room for a Highland-class shuttle. Alexander Jardin bid them farewell, and the four Loroi boarded the craft.
Only after it had departed, did the Mizol deigned to explain the hurry, “I’ve received a coded signal to alter our plans, so don’t interrupt me, the situation is already complicated enough. The sector commander took most of the main fleet to Enedd. We do not know where more gatecrasher forces may appear from, yet it’s clear what their target is, a breakthrough to Nezel and beyond. We consider the farseer network to be compromised and all the forward strike groups have either retreated, were destroyed or can no longer be spotted. The reserve fleet is mobilized and couriers were sent to the interior as well as towards Seren.”
She handed Emberwing a tablet with Admiral Duskcrown’s orders, which were very short: cooperate with Ambassador Silvermist and bypass the Shell fleet cloaking at any cost. “What of the original plan to pierce the Human lotai first? I thought that some of us could remain on their ship.”
“And how would I ask them for prolonged accommodation without raising any suspicions? Offer you as a tribute for the Captain’s pack? They are not Delrias!” Tempo sighed, “I don’t like it either, nor do I trust them, but Torimor Silvermist thinks that the risk is now worth it. She’ll receive us right after we dock.”
Beryl leaned over to look at the tablet, “Is the situation really so serious?”
“That’s the problem, we don’t know, and have no way to remedy that.” Fireblade offered her insight as well, “The situation must be indeed dire, though, they even dispatched a Highland to speed up the transfer.”
“But Seren will send reinforcements!” Thanks to this assessment, the Listel was now agitated, “Meanwhile, the reserve forces can hold them off!”
“It will take about eleven days for a message to reach Seren,” Fireblade sounded grim, “Maybe seven, if they attempt an emergency far-sending as soon as they come in range. And there might be more Shell forces underway.”
"Why are you so pessimistic?!” Beryl flared up.
“I always assume the worst and challenge it until I prove it otherwise with my own strength.” The Teidar was almost itching for a fight. Her deceptively calm demeanor hid a true Blade of Fire beneath it, and its heat could now be felt through the thin cover.
Emberwing breathed in and out, then sent in her best command tone, “We must win, and we will.”
“I like your resolve, Captain,” acknowledged Fireblade, albeit partly in jest. “Prove yourself, and I shall be your sword.”
“Our fight will be a different one, chiefly against time.” interjected Tempo, “Let’s go.”
The shuttle docked within the citadel, and they quickly exited through the airlock and the antibiotic chamber. A single dark-haired and pale Loroi was awaiting them, “I’m Mizol Parat Midnight, please follow me to the elevator.”
“What is the situation?” asked Parat Tempo.
“The Torimor shall explain what is necessary.” the other Parat very laconic, only faint echoes of her emotions could be felt in her sending. “Code ash six.”
“Acknowledged.” came the reply.
Emberwing felt that it would be for the best not to ask what that meant. The lift brought the group to one of the top decks and Parat Midnight led everyone to a door that was guarded by two Teidars, no less. A telepathic command that seemed to come out of nowhere urged them to come in, “Enter!”
The Mizol Torimor that awaited them inside had brilliantly white, long hair that were bound into a very elaborate construction. Her sending was strangely cloaked as if coming from everywhere at once, subdued, yet powerful, “Welcome and let us get straight to business. Before Tazites Duskcrown departed for Enedd, she left me in charge of this Human matter, with full command authority. I intend to secure their cooperation regarding the Enemy lotai, since this has the highest priority right now. Parat Tempo, what have you arranged for?”
“Yes Torimor, I have worked out a preliminary agreement regarding a technology transfer, and they promised to help us find a workaround for the Shell mind-cloaking ability. Tomorrow, according to their cycle, the Humans will send a number of their telepaths to experiment with our farsensing equipment and to exchange farseer techniques. Furthermore, they will transfer a recently acquired Shell wreck for us to study.” Reported Tempo to her superior in a crisp tone.
“Good, I shall approve a meeting with Bistima Eight Eye and grant them the necessary security clearance.” Torimor Silvermist nodded and turned to Emberwing, “What of their lotai, Soroin Torret Emberwing?”
She sent her impressions, “I believe that it is an involuntary effect, not strictly a lotai, but rather a mutual incompatibility. We might be able to adapt our sanzai to overcome it, given enough time and effort. There were a number of cases where I managed to intercept fragments of their dreams, albeit by yet unknown means.”
“There’s not enough time to test out a mere possibility, and we do not have the much-needed luxury of a Nedatan Tiret who could make sense of dreams.” The high-ranking Mizol ruminated for a moment, then continued, “There is simply not enough information, you should undergo a more throughout medical examination, then a telepathic test. First, though, sleep and see if your dreams change, since there’s now a distance to the Humans.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I or more Loroi remained with them? Also, leaving the envoys here, in the middle of a Shell incursion, is too dangerous.” Emberwing wanted to know more, and was not entirely sure about the chain of command in this unfamiliar situation.
“Of course, and normally, the Tazites would’ve promptly organized an escort to Seren, together with a bigger liaison team, especially since the Azerein should be there at the moment.” The Torimor focused on her, “With the situation as it is now, we need them right here.”
“I understand and shall do my utmost for the benefit of the Union,” agreed Emberwing.
“Good, we can’t waste any time on command chain issues either,” Silvermist offered her the faintest smile, and then switched to Beryl, “Listel Tozet Beryl, what is your assessment of the Human’s technological level?”
Beryl delivered a precise overview, “Surpassing ours in the fields of computers, reactors and drive systems, possibly others as well. Not only have they developed two different reactionless propulsion systems, even their inertial dampeners and jump drives must be at least a generation ahead of us. I have compiled a more detailed report, it only needs to be written down.”
“Impressive, do you have any clue how they reached this level?” The Ambassador was intrigued, while Emberwing wondered how Beryl managed to organize all the data in such a short amount of time.
“My preliminary analysis is that it appears to be broad enough to be genuine and mostly native. The initial theory of an uplift by a third party seems to be less likely. There is of course not enough data to be certain,” explained the Listel, “What I do not understand though, is how they managed to overtake us in a far shorter amount of time.”
“As long as they are willing to share, the how is not a priority for the moment, just write that report and let the Listel of the station worry about the rest. Your task is the Shell fleet-lotai.” Finally, the Torimor addressed Fireblade, “Teidar Pallan Fireblade, what did your probing accomplished?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Fireblade was brief and without any decorum, “I could not sense anything if probing them, but also no attempts from their side.”
“So it’s not an issue of power, either.” Ambassador Silvermist rubbed her nose bridge, “Then we are finished for now. Parat Midnight will be your contact, message her if you need anything. Dismissed.”
As ordered, they were given tablets with information regarding their accommodations, schedule and assignments. Midnight elaborated further, “Since you are all assigned to the Human task group, it would be for the best to adhere to their day cycle. We have issued all the necessary authorizations and security clearances. You can use your cabin’s consoles to access additional information as well as to compile any reports. Is there anything else?”
There was indeed, and Emberwing addressed her in an official tone, “As the last survivor of the 25th strike group, I must compile a report on the important matter of its destruction and the unusual tactics that the Shells employed. Furthermore, I also need to have my personal file updated and a new uniform befitting my rank.”
“We have received a summary from Torrai Lashret Stillstorm and your file was already corrected.” Midnight appeared unmoved, “You can use the console to go through all the standard procedures and formalities. A new set of uniforms and other necessities shall be delivered to your cabin soon.”
Emberwing suppressed the urge to complain about it all being anything but a standard procedure, snatched the tablet out of the Mizol’s hands and went straight to the elevator, ignoring everything else. She recalled the station’s plan and headed for the Promenade. Before tackling the insurmountably difficult task of recalling everything for the report, she needed a mental refuel. Fortunately enough, that little café was still there. She plopped down on the nearest seat, and asked the Neridi behind the counter, “Lorro, get me a big one of your special. No, the biggest one.”
The small, blue creature recognized her and smiled, “Welcome back, customer. You look like you’d need one the size of this citadel.”
“Then please do.” This frivolously decadent confection was exactly what she needed right now, and it disappeared in a heartbeat. To think that she went for 17 days without anything elaborate and sweet, first because of that stupid bet with Shortsword, then due to being on the Human ship, since desserts wouldn’t be anything she’d trust a strange food printer with. The proprietor waved with a new stick, “Should I make a second one for you, or perhaps for your sister as well?”
Right, the last time she was here together with Moonblade, who discovered this stand in the first place. “No, she won’t come anymore.” This also reminded her that she couldn’t pay automatically, since this armor was a facsimile, but that would be far too much to explain, “Anyway, put it on my tab, I’ll pay later. It takes some time to return from the dead, at least if it concerns bureaucracy and my account.”
The Neridi hung his floppy ears, “I understand, forgive me for prying.”
“Make a second one for her,” She received the fluffy white sweet and walked over to the gallery. The massive armored blinds were open, revealing a panorama of the endless star-field, with the planet that the station was orbiting in the lower left corner. Its night-side was mostly dark, because the colony had been long since evacuated.
With the rotation of the citadel, the view slowly shifted, and something began to blot out a part of the starry sky. The huge Human ship that now came in sight was completely black, except for the brightly lit opening of a cargo bay. Shuttles were flying back and forth, carrying off the wreck of the Shell ship. Or perhaps the pitiful remains of her own cruiser?
She threw the empty stick into a bin, sighed and turned back. It was time for her to sleep, but she doubted that it would be possible right now. Whatever, there was also the issue of the report that needed to be written, so Emberwing headed to her temporary cabin. The loss of an entire strike group was, after all, a serious incident, and she was quite skilled in the matter of writing reports. Otherwise, she’d be nothing but the lab miros for the so-called “Human task group” anyway.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Intermission K: A fleeting encounter.
Nedatan Tiret Maigid Binar (Glimpse of Eternity) woke up and stretched himself. The luxurious visitor suite high up in the spires of the ancient monastery was flooded with warm sunlight, and tiny specks of dust danced in its rays. A fine day that should invigorate the mind and renew his inspiration. Then, he gently nudged the female lying beside him until she woke up too. The invigoration of the body that they engaged in last night was also marvelous. Yet the encounters, even such exclusive ones, were brief, and that was its last day.
The young Loroi warrior finally woke up, looked at him and smiled, “Thank you for the wonderful time!”
“Oh, but I also must thank you for that, not only were you good in bed, but also a very attentive listener. Few others had appreciated my work and the ancient legends like you did.” he smiled in return.
“No? Yes!” She blushed, “Every tale was fascinating, and also very immersive! I could picture the ancient warriors vividly, why they fought, the trill of the battle and the feeling of triumph!”
“Then make sure to triumph as well.” He encouraged the young warrior, “I’m currently working on the next compilation of legends, and I’d appreciate such an enthusiastic listener again.”
“Of course, I will secure the victory for the Union!” The intensely blushing female quickly put on a robe and left with the parting sending, “I shall preserve this memory until we meet again, Honored Loremaster!”
He felt the female entering the elevator to the reception compound before she left his sensing range. Another young and eager from an important family departing for the front-lines, would this one truly overcome the odds and make her own dalid? The older, experienced warriors usually painted a different, far more disillusioned picture. But what could a male even do, except to guide them and father more?
After a good bath that the caretaker had already prepared, he confirmed the schedule and headed back to his study. There was the matter of compiling the next batch of legends about the 3rd Age of Strife in the Deinar Highlands, a task that the encounter had interrupted. While the fellow Ninzadi order preserved the sagas, his task as a Tiret was to analyze, recount and explain them. This, in turn, required painstaking preparations and the meticulous study of history, since no falsehood could be allowed if it came to the hallowed legends. Even telepathic retelling techniques and highly trained eidetic memories would accumulate errors over the course of so many generations, thus constant care was necessary to minimize the inevitable distortions.
Shortly after, his colleague, Nedatan Ninzadi Memory Guardian, entered his room. “Another day, another princess?”
“A heavy burden of our rank and status that we have to carry, old friend.” acknowledged the Tiret with a chuckle. “This one was a very good listener, too many of the young ones regard the myths as mere entertainment.”
“And become entertainment in turn!” laughed Memory Guardian, “Now, where did we leave off?”
The legend that they would work with today was the one of warrior Vengeance, the founding myth of the influential Starsword clan, first remembered by the famous Nedatan Stormcalmer. An all too common story in those turbulent times, it began with the defeat and subsequent destruction of her previous clan. Barely surviving by mere chance, she assumed the Curse-Name of Vengeance as per ancient Arran custom.
“Do we know what her original name was?” inquired Glimpse of Eternity.
“No, this Curse-Name, a very peculiar, but long-forgotten tradition, forced the warrior to discard all previous names, ranks and clan affiliations.” explained his colleague, “To atone for a great dishonor, she had to fulfill the Curse-Promise of her new nickname first. Only then, could the old name be restored, or a new and proper one be chosen.”
“What a wonderfully archaic custom indeed,” commented the Tiret, “This reminds me, I also have a daughter that’s a member of this clan. She even inherited my eidetic memory.”
“With that matron? Ugh, what a waste of talent to end up as Soroin!” His friend frowned, “Let’s hope that she won't be tested by fate as much as her clan founder was. Vengeance had to overcome a lot of challenges in order to amass enough dalid for her revenge.”
Nedatan Tiret Maigid Binar (Glimpse of Eternity) woke up and stretched himself. The luxurious visitor suite high up in the spires of the ancient monastery was flooded with warm sunlight, and tiny specks of dust danced in its rays. A fine day that should invigorate the mind and renew his inspiration. Then, he gently nudged the female lying beside him until she woke up too. The invigoration of the body that they engaged in last night was also marvelous. Yet the encounters, even such exclusive ones, were brief, and that was its last day.
The young Loroi warrior finally woke up, looked at him and smiled, “Thank you for the wonderful time!”
“Oh, but I also must thank you for that, not only were you good in bed, but also a very attentive listener. Few others had appreciated my work and the ancient legends like you did.” he smiled in return.
“No? Yes!” She blushed, “Every tale was fascinating, and also very immersive! I could picture the ancient warriors vividly, why they fought, the trill of the battle and the feeling of triumph!”
“Then make sure to triumph as well.” He encouraged the young warrior, “I’m currently working on the next compilation of legends, and I’d appreciate such an enthusiastic listener again.”
“Of course, I will secure the victory for the Union!” The intensely blushing female quickly put on a robe and left with the parting sending, “I shall preserve this memory until we meet again, Honored Loremaster!”
He felt the female entering the elevator to the reception compound before she left his sensing range. Another young and eager from an important family departing for the front-lines, would this one truly overcome the odds and make her own dalid? The older, experienced warriors usually painted a different, far more disillusioned picture. But what could a male even do, except to guide them and father more?
After a good bath that the caretaker had already prepared, he confirmed the schedule and headed back to his study. There was the matter of compiling the next batch of legends about the 3rd Age of Strife in the Deinar Highlands, a task that the encounter had interrupted. While the fellow Ninzadi order preserved the sagas, his task as a Tiret was to analyze, recount and explain them. This, in turn, required painstaking preparations and the meticulous study of history, since no falsehood could be allowed if it came to the hallowed legends. Even telepathic retelling techniques and highly trained eidetic memories would accumulate errors over the course of so many generations, thus constant care was necessary to minimize the inevitable distortions.
Shortly after, his colleague, Nedatan Ninzadi Memory Guardian, entered his room. “Another day, another princess?”
“A heavy burden of our rank and status that we have to carry, old friend.” acknowledged the Tiret with a chuckle. “This one was a very good listener, too many of the young ones regard the myths as mere entertainment.”
“And become entertainment in turn!” laughed Memory Guardian, “Now, where did we leave off?”
The legend that they would work with today was the one of warrior Vengeance, the founding myth of the influential Starsword clan, first remembered by the famous Nedatan Stormcalmer. An all too common story in those turbulent times, it began with the defeat and subsequent destruction of her previous clan. Barely surviving by mere chance, she assumed the Curse-Name of Vengeance as per ancient Arran custom.
“Do we know what her original name was?” inquired Glimpse of Eternity.
“No, this Curse-Name, a very peculiar, but long-forgotten tradition, forced the warrior to discard all previous names, ranks and clan affiliations.” explained his colleague, “To atone for a great dishonor, she had to fulfill the Curse-Promise of her new nickname first. Only then, could the old name be restored, or a new and proper one be chosen.”
“What a wonderfully archaic custom indeed,” commented the Tiret, “This reminds me, I also have a daughter that’s a member of this clan. She even inherited my eidetic memory.”
“With that matron? Ugh, what a waste of talent to end up as Soroin!” His friend frowned, “Let’s hope that she won't be tested by fate as much as her clan founder was. Vengeance had to overcome a lot of challenges in order to amass enough dalid for her revenge.”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XXIII: The Tune
Walking through the corridors while shooing everyone out of her way with nothing but the sheer force of her emotions, Emberwing managed to reach the designated cabin quickly. She threw the bag into a corner and sat down at the console. Her eidetic memory had preserved the report that she compiled after that battle, so the matter of writing it down was not a very lengthy one. Then, she began to deal with the rest of the bureaucratic nonsense, but dozed off quickly.
Her overtired brain finally saw fit to create a good, even soothing dream. She relived her graduation ceremony, and the ritual hair-shearing that marked the transition from a diral youth to a warrior. The sense of pride and acceptance that her mother radiated that day was one of her favorite memories.
The next best one, however, would be the first encounter that every warrior was granted thereafter. Her clan made sure to provide all its members with males of a proper pedigree, and due to her eidetic memory, she was paired up with a Nedatan. Following extensive grooming to make herself more presentable after the harsh trials, a hovercar brought her to the monastery. She entered the encounter room with a feeling of anticipation, only to be stupefied due to meeting Alexander Jardin instead. At a second glance, this was not the room in the old monastery, either, and why was she wearing the dress that Ellen had gifted her?
The utterly strange dream was suddenly interrupted by a buzzing at the door. Still half-dazed, she focused on whoever was on the other side, only to sense a confused mind.
“I’m very sorry to bother you, Torret, but there is this package for you, yet the door is locked, and you didn’t respond...” sent a youth.
That was most likely her new uniform, thought Emberwing, did she oversleep? “No need for excuses, you saved me from a particularly weird dream.”
She stood up and opened the door, revealing a Paset, who handed her a bag, “Here is the package, and…”
“You are far too curious, girl”, Emberwing also sensed a certain inquisitiveness, “I’m a Torret without a ship, the rest is self-explanatory. And no, that newly arrived vessel is nothing that a Paset needs to know about.”
The perplexed novice warrior blinked, “I did not even ask about it,”
“Yet.” Emberwing interrupted her, “Get me something to eat and the strongest Nollir you can find, I have urgent Torret stuff to do.”
“Of course!” The Paset dashed off with haste.
Emberwing took a shower that finally forced her to wake up, then put on the new uniform and checked the schedule. The delivery was timed well, otherwise, she would’ve missed the medical check. That Paset was a bit too nosy, however, or did the rumor mill already distributed the news about the Humans? Anyway, she was certainly very fast, having already returned with a tray of food and announcing herself with reverence. Emberwing opened the door, “Thank you, this is all I needed, so you can return to your duty.”
Wondering about the respect that the completely unknown warrior displayed, she quickly ate her meal and left the cabin. Her next destination would be the medbay.
The huge facility was mostly empty, but an older medic, a tall, purple-haired Loroi, sensed her approach and sent a heartfelt greeting, “Welcome, clan-sister, I'm Doranzer Disis Willpower, and I was asked to perform a deep scan on you.”
What a coincidence to meet a relative here, “Which family do you belong to?”
“Just a side branch, we share the same great-grand-aunt Spearhead who moved to Maia.” She smiled, “I even had to look it up, normally, I don’t care for all this clan nonsense.”
“But what about our traditions?” Emberwing was bewildered.
“I know them, of course, as well as the legends,” the Doranzer led her to a huge scanner and urged to get inside, “But the clan structures were dissolved long ago, so why live in the past?”
“To defy the clan matron?” Emberwing undressed and laid on the table, “You still followed the custom and became a medic, even if not a warrior.”
“I did it because I wanted to, not due to some long-forgotten creed.” Willpower activated the aperture, “Let’s see, the scanner doesn’t show any bindings that could tie you down.”
“That’s not what I meant!” This was certainly no laughing matter, “Neither clan allegiance, nor the scan results are a joke!”
“Why not? There are no apparent problems with either.” Sent the medic with assurance, “All values are within normal parameters and correspond with your previous scans. The only thing that’s slightly out of norm are the early signs of stress, but this is inevitable, and considering your age, not threatening.”
“Anything unusual?” inquired Emberwing, “After all, I was exposed to foreign microorganisms, got healed by unknown alien technology, and now, there is the matter of those bizarre dreams.”
“We have already exchanged biological data, and there are no unusual pathogens that the standard inoculations cannot handle. Whatever medical technology the Humans have was also highly efficient, there are no anomalies that I can detect.” The medic swiped a small device over her forehead. “The scanner will now perform a more in-depth analysis of your brain.”
The scanner whirred in a different tune and frequency for a while, then the Doranzer said in a pondering tone, “Interesting, we’d need to take a number of samples as well.”
“So there is something, after all?” the procedure was rather quick, if not particularly pleasant.
“Done, so you can get dressed.” Willpower deposited the probes into a number of separate devices, “There is a minuscule imbalance of neurotransmitter levels in your brain. It’s not even outside the normal variation range, but on the other hand, too many, usually independent, groups appear to be affected.”
That wasn’t informative at all, “Is that good or bad?”
“Neither, merely a curiosity. As I said, everything is well within a safe zone, and normally, a routine scan wouldn’t even register that.” The Disis seemed intrigued, “We Doranzer are just healing technicians, I’ll need to confer with a number of other specialists to make more sense of it all. Do you remember anything unusual?”
“I’m certainly not a healer either, so what could be considered unusual?” Emberwing went through her memories, before she recalled what Angela Carmona told her about a procedure that the Humans had tried to wake her up with, “What about telepathic influence?”
“That’s not my specialty.” pondered Willpower, “We do have a Soroin Tiret counselor on board, but I doubt that she is qualified enough to analyze something so mysterious.”
“I have an appointment with her later anyway,” Emberwing remembered her last dream as well, “A session with a Nedatan Tiret would be preferable, though.”
“Everyone would prefer a private session with a Nedatan Tiret over anything else!” The Doranzer laughed out loud, “But even our oh so illustrious clan cannot secure something like that on a whim.”
This was meant in a professional sense, although a more intimate counseling would be welcome indeed, “Then we’d have to work with whoever is available.”
The medic smiled, “Like that Human Captain?”
Did she leak her impressions of that dream? “Not in such a regard! I’m a part of the liaison team, and we’ll have a very important meeting soon.”
“You Deinarids have no sense of humor,” The Doranzer turned serious again, “Good luck with your mission.”
“You Maiads have too much of both, but thanks.” The next thing on her schedule would be a meeting between the Humans and the Farseer. Guided by her exact memory, she arrived at the docking facility just in time. The Human shuttle had already docked, and Parat Tempo was waiting for them to disembark.
“There you are. Any unusual dreams?” asked the Mizol.
What an awkward thing to explain, thought Emberwing, “Nothing of the previous dreamworld, just a flight of fancy from my overtired brain. However, I also had an equally strange dream on the Human ship, so it’s not saying much.”
“Fine, you can work out the details with Soroin Tiret Oasis,” Tempo merely shook her head, “I’ve contacted her, and she’s working hard on learning as much as possible from the database.”
“Good to know,” Emberwing was glad for the opportunity to change the topic, “The medical scan did not provide any definitive results. There were some minor points of interest, but Doranzer Willpower must analyze them first.”
“It would’ve been too easy otherwise,” The airlock opened, and the Human delegation walked in, consisting of the Captain, Tactician, the Operative, both of the huge guards, and three unknown crew-members, one female and two males. Tempo addressed them, “Welcome aboard the Azimol citadel, let us proceed to the farseer compound right away.”
Alexander Jardin nodded, “Of course, considering that the Umiak will reach Leido in less than two days.”
Guarded by four Teidars which ensured that nobody would dare snoop on them, the group took a number of empty secondary corridors on their way to the farseer compound. Here, Mizol Parat Midnight received them, and led everyone inside. Her sending was even colder and more impersonal as before, “The Torimor approved their visit, but do we really need to allow everyone into the inner part?”
This was apparently addressed to Tempo, since she replied in an equally cold tone, “The guards can stay in the outer room here, but the rest must be led inside, since they are all telepaths. I don’t like it either, but can you spot the Shells instead?”
“Damn the husks and the melor both,” answered Midnight, then addressed the Humans with a smile, “I’m Mizol Parat Neste, my spoken name means Midnight, and my task is overseeing the Bistima, the Farseers of the citadel.”
The Humans introduced themselves in turn, including the three others, who turned out to be their equivalent of the farseers. Instead of paying much attention to it, Emberwing focused on that particular expression, melor, which meant undead. The other Parat was most probably from Perrein as well, so it could explain the usage of this archaic concept, but why would she attribute it to the Humans? As an insult? Ironically enough, it wasn’t that far off of her initial, utterly foolish assessment. Or did she know more about Perrein’s version of the legend about the Dishonored Ones? On second thought, why did she even get sidetracked with this superstitious nonsense? It wasn’t helpful right now, and she reverted her attention back to the discussion.
It seemed like the matter was decided for now, and leaving the guards behind, the rest entered the inner chamber. A small and delicate, gray-haired Bistima approached them, “Welcome, I am Elder Farseer Eight Eye. Let us skip the unnecessary pleasantries and proceed to my room right away.”
She turned around and pressed her palm on the wall controls, unlocking the thick door. The Citadel-class amplifier behind it was a truly monumental aperture. In the middle of an ornate, domed hall stood a tall crystalline throne surrounded with a complex movable scaffold holding numerous ceramic tiles and holo-emitters.
The Operative nodded, “Truly impressive, so this is the psionic magnifying glass that you’ve told me about.”
“Yes, it is an accurate description,” answered the Farseer instead, “and I’m its focal point.” She beckoned everyone to approach the throne and sat on it.
The Captain bowed slightly and addressed the Bistima, “Allow me an audience, your psionic highness. I wish to learn of your magic.”
Parat Midnight frowned ever so slightly, but Eight Eye stopped her with a gentle telepathic nudge. Then, she smiled at the Human, “Permission granted, seeker of knowledge, but I also want to know of your ways to lift that Shell lotai.”
“The problem is that to us, there is no barrier.” Alexander Jardin stroked his beard, “We can sense the Umiak just the same as the crew of the Barsam ship, for example. Of course, we must make due without amplification, so the range is quite short. It’s possible that whatever the Hierarchy developed does impair our abilities and shortens detection range or lowers the resolution, but the margin may be too small to be easily noticeable.”
“So, how do you accomplish your farsensing without amplification?” The Bistima went straight to the crucial point.
“Just like many smaller telescopes can imitate a single big one,” Zarjow pointed at the psionic machinery, “Several distributed, but interconnected receivers focus on the same target and then combine their results.”
The farseer pondered for a moment, “Yes, I think that in ancient times, something similar was done by my predecessors as well. With the discovery of the amplifiers, such techniques fell into disuse and were forgotten, since they could only be taught telepathically.”
“Can you attempt to recreate them?” asked Tempo.
“I would, if I could.” Eight Eye shook her head, “This is only something that was mentioned in the archives, with no explanation given as to how a signal synthesis could be achieved. We even tried that among other things as well, but to no avail, it would probably take a lifetime to perfect. Besides, interstellar sensing was only possible with amplifiers, so it’s not useful anyway. At least for us, that is.”
“Since we cannot share our techniques directly, and it’s nothing that can be expressed in words, perhaps we could demonstrate them to each other instead?” proposed Ellen Jardin.
“Yes, it is a good starting point. Please step back.” The Farseer leaned back into her throne-like amplifier and closed her eyes. The device activated, and the scaffolding closed in on her, forming a bubble around the throne. Emberwing could hear a beautiful, yet very faint melody that slowly grew in strength. It was somehow similar to the one produced by the Human ship when it accelerated, but at the same time, it had a completely different tune and cadence. The music rose up along the ornate walls, converged on the high ceiling and then, continued to expand beyond, transcending the physical world, filling everything with its rhythm. The performance drew Emberwings attention and caused her to forget everything else for a moment.
Enchanted by this fantastic melody, she did not realize that the Farseer asked her something at first, but the power of the sending was impossible to ignore, “Excuse me for startling you, my strength is hard to adjust. Warrior Emberwing, I’ve been told that you managed to pierce the Human lotai? A feat that even an experienced and amplified Elder Farseer could not achieve?”
“I’m sorry if I infringed upon your caste’s honor, respected Bistima, it’s just a few dream fragments at this point.” apologized Emberwing.
“I’m not blaming you,” Eight Eyes sending was unusually potent for a farseer, but had a very gentle undertone, “Instead, it is my honor to learn of new abilities and to meet our long-lost cousins.”
“Cousins?” Emberwing suppressed a frown, “Parat Midnight called them melor.”
“She’s very frustrated, and is also piling too much undeserved blame on herself, so forgive her for being so rude. My annoyance at the inability to see the Shells must’ve affected her,” answered the Farseer, then she opened the amplifier, which stopped the music, and addressed the Humans, “I couldn’t detect you at all, but your presence did not interfere with my farsensing either. Have you felt something?”
“No, there wasn’t anything on our end, too, despite the fact that we did our best to sense you.” The Tactician crossed her arms, “How about trying out the amplifier next?”
“It needs very delicate tuning, but on the other hand, I can sense whether it’s working at all,” Eight Eye stood up, and pointed to her seat, “Do you need any special arrangements for your farsensing?”
“We just have to concentrate on a central point, in this case, me.” replied Ellen Jardin.
“Then, let me choose a training program,” The farseer pressed some buttons on the throne’s hand-rest console, “You can activate it with this command.”
The Tactician took a seat in the amplifier, and the framework closed again. Meanwhile, the other Humans assumed positions around the bubble. Gradually, the faint humming became audible, yet it was strangely distorted. Eight Eye noticed it as well, “Even the calibrating routine doesn’t work, please, select the second program, it should be highlighted right now.”
“Of course,” answered the Captain. The music shifted slightly, but it was still too disharmonious.
The farseer sighted, “As expected, the amplifiers are designed for us, and since we cannot hear each other, the frequencies must be different as well.”
“You mean that our sanzai operates in a different frequency range than theirs, and it’s the reason for the incompatibility?” Tempo immediately perked up.
“Possibly, although I don’t think that this physical concept can be applied to telepathy. Or we simply never thought of it in this way!” Eight Eye was clearly elated, “The opportunity to compare our mental talents with those of a different race might be even more fruitful than expected. Especially with the original!”
“We are not a copy!” Emberwing decided to join the discussion as well, “What we have to understand, though, is how they can spot the Shells. The frequency theory might have some veracity, since the Enemy may have managed to employ amplifiers in a completely unknown way and somehow, tuned themselves out of our perception range.”
Parat Midnight took a tablet out of her leg pouch and checked something, “The Gallens are still sifting through the debris of that Shell ship, but so far, they only found a couple of tiny amplifier shards, not nearly enough just for a single personal amplifier. So, unless the Humans have kept it all for themselves, I don’t think that it is a good lead.”
“Tuning out?” The farseer mulled over this for a moment, “I have to look through the archives once more after we’re finished with this, the training program should end right about now.”
She was right, the cacophonic melody stopped and the amplifier sphere opened. Numerous manipulators that carried the pieces returned them into their stand-by positions on the walls. Ellen Jardin stood up, “We didn’t register any change in our perception abilities, it might be indeed an issue of frequency.”
The Mizol exchanged glances, and Midnight proposed a different approach, “For the next step, we can try and adapt an amplifier to your specifications. Let us proceed to the secondary one.”
“We need to make a status report to our superiors,” Tempo excused herself, and added in sanzai, “Come with me, I need to ask you something, and then there’s your appointment with the Counselor as well.”
Farseer Eight Eye and Parat Midnight took the Humans to the elevator, while Tempo led her out of the compound, “Did you notice anything unusual about them, especially when they were in the amplifier?”
Apart from the obvious change in tune, nothing came to mind, thought Emberwing, “Nothing of interest, I could not pick up any telepathy, they must be completely outside what our sanzai normally perceives.”
“I’m now certain that the inability to read them must be the reason why they can see the Shells, while we can’t.” Tempo rubbed her forehead, “But the Torimor is interested in results, not theories. We still have no idea how you receive those dream fragments or why we cannot spot the husks. Anyway, at least it’s a hint. You should see the Tiret, maybe she found something useful in her files.”
“It’s doubtful that there’s a manual on how to tune our brains,” responded Emberwing, “On the other hand, I look forward to some proper counseling.”
Tempo went to report it all to Silvermist, so Emberwing recalled the station's layout and entered the next lift capsule. The Tiret would certainly diagnose her with an overabundance of mental problems, perhaps enough for an extended leave?
Walking through the corridors while shooing everyone out of her way with nothing but the sheer force of her emotions, Emberwing managed to reach the designated cabin quickly. She threw the bag into a corner and sat down at the console. Her eidetic memory had preserved the report that she compiled after that battle, so the matter of writing it down was not a very lengthy one. Then, she began to deal with the rest of the bureaucratic nonsense, but dozed off quickly.
Her overtired brain finally saw fit to create a good, even soothing dream. She relived her graduation ceremony, and the ritual hair-shearing that marked the transition from a diral youth to a warrior. The sense of pride and acceptance that her mother radiated that day was one of her favorite memories.
The next best one, however, would be the first encounter that every warrior was granted thereafter. Her clan made sure to provide all its members with males of a proper pedigree, and due to her eidetic memory, she was paired up with a Nedatan. Following extensive grooming to make herself more presentable after the harsh trials, a hovercar brought her to the monastery. She entered the encounter room with a feeling of anticipation, only to be stupefied due to meeting Alexander Jardin instead. At a second glance, this was not the room in the old monastery, either, and why was she wearing the dress that Ellen had gifted her?
The utterly strange dream was suddenly interrupted by a buzzing at the door. Still half-dazed, she focused on whoever was on the other side, only to sense a confused mind.
“I’m very sorry to bother you, Torret, but there is this package for you, yet the door is locked, and you didn’t respond...” sent a youth.
That was most likely her new uniform, thought Emberwing, did she oversleep? “No need for excuses, you saved me from a particularly weird dream.”
She stood up and opened the door, revealing a Paset, who handed her a bag, “Here is the package, and…”
“You are far too curious, girl”, Emberwing also sensed a certain inquisitiveness, “I’m a Torret without a ship, the rest is self-explanatory. And no, that newly arrived vessel is nothing that a Paset needs to know about.”
The perplexed novice warrior blinked, “I did not even ask about it,”
“Yet.” Emberwing interrupted her, “Get me something to eat and the strongest Nollir you can find, I have urgent Torret stuff to do.”
“Of course!” The Paset dashed off with haste.
Emberwing took a shower that finally forced her to wake up, then put on the new uniform and checked the schedule. The delivery was timed well, otherwise, she would’ve missed the medical check. That Paset was a bit too nosy, however, or did the rumor mill already distributed the news about the Humans? Anyway, she was certainly very fast, having already returned with a tray of food and announcing herself with reverence. Emberwing opened the door, “Thank you, this is all I needed, so you can return to your duty.”
Wondering about the respect that the completely unknown warrior displayed, she quickly ate her meal and left the cabin. Her next destination would be the medbay.
The huge facility was mostly empty, but an older medic, a tall, purple-haired Loroi, sensed her approach and sent a heartfelt greeting, “Welcome, clan-sister, I'm Doranzer Disis Willpower, and I was asked to perform a deep scan on you.”
What a coincidence to meet a relative here, “Which family do you belong to?”
“Just a side branch, we share the same great-grand-aunt Spearhead who moved to Maia.” She smiled, “I even had to look it up, normally, I don’t care for all this clan nonsense.”
“But what about our traditions?” Emberwing was bewildered.
“I know them, of course, as well as the legends,” the Doranzer led her to a huge scanner and urged to get inside, “But the clan structures were dissolved long ago, so why live in the past?”
“To defy the clan matron?” Emberwing undressed and laid on the table, “You still followed the custom and became a medic, even if not a warrior.”
“I did it because I wanted to, not due to some long-forgotten creed.” Willpower activated the aperture, “Let’s see, the scanner doesn’t show any bindings that could tie you down.”
“That’s not what I meant!” This was certainly no laughing matter, “Neither clan allegiance, nor the scan results are a joke!”
“Why not? There are no apparent problems with either.” Sent the medic with assurance, “All values are within normal parameters and correspond with your previous scans. The only thing that’s slightly out of norm are the early signs of stress, but this is inevitable, and considering your age, not threatening.”
“Anything unusual?” inquired Emberwing, “After all, I was exposed to foreign microorganisms, got healed by unknown alien technology, and now, there is the matter of those bizarre dreams.”
“We have already exchanged biological data, and there are no unusual pathogens that the standard inoculations cannot handle. Whatever medical technology the Humans have was also highly efficient, there are no anomalies that I can detect.” The medic swiped a small device over her forehead. “The scanner will now perform a more in-depth analysis of your brain.”
The scanner whirred in a different tune and frequency for a while, then the Doranzer said in a pondering tone, “Interesting, we’d need to take a number of samples as well.”
“So there is something, after all?” the procedure was rather quick, if not particularly pleasant.
“Done, so you can get dressed.” Willpower deposited the probes into a number of separate devices, “There is a minuscule imbalance of neurotransmitter levels in your brain. It’s not even outside the normal variation range, but on the other hand, too many, usually independent, groups appear to be affected.”
That wasn’t informative at all, “Is that good or bad?”
“Neither, merely a curiosity. As I said, everything is well within a safe zone, and normally, a routine scan wouldn’t even register that.” The Disis seemed intrigued, “We Doranzer are just healing technicians, I’ll need to confer with a number of other specialists to make more sense of it all. Do you remember anything unusual?”
“I’m certainly not a healer either, so what could be considered unusual?” Emberwing went through her memories, before she recalled what Angela Carmona told her about a procedure that the Humans had tried to wake her up with, “What about telepathic influence?”
“That’s not my specialty.” pondered Willpower, “We do have a Soroin Tiret counselor on board, but I doubt that she is qualified enough to analyze something so mysterious.”
“I have an appointment with her later anyway,” Emberwing remembered her last dream as well, “A session with a Nedatan Tiret would be preferable, though.”
“Everyone would prefer a private session with a Nedatan Tiret over anything else!” The Doranzer laughed out loud, “But even our oh so illustrious clan cannot secure something like that on a whim.”
This was meant in a professional sense, although a more intimate counseling would be welcome indeed, “Then we’d have to work with whoever is available.”
The medic smiled, “Like that Human Captain?”
Did she leak her impressions of that dream? “Not in such a regard! I’m a part of the liaison team, and we’ll have a very important meeting soon.”
“You Deinarids have no sense of humor,” The Doranzer turned serious again, “Good luck with your mission.”
“You Maiads have too much of both, but thanks.” The next thing on her schedule would be a meeting between the Humans and the Farseer. Guided by her exact memory, she arrived at the docking facility just in time. The Human shuttle had already docked, and Parat Tempo was waiting for them to disembark.
“There you are. Any unusual dreams?” asked the Mizol.
What an awkward thing to explain, thought Emberwing, “Nothing of the previous dreamworld, just a flight of fancy from my overtired brain. However, I also had an equally strange dream on the Human ship, so it’s not saying much.”
“Fine, you can work out the details with Soroin Tiret Oasis,” Tempo merely shook her head, “I’ve contacted her, and she’s working hard on learning as much as possible from the database.”
“Good to know,” Emberwing was glad for the opportunity to change the topic, “The medical scan did not provide any definitive results. There were some minor points of interest, but Doranzer Willpower must analyze them first.”
“It would’ve been too easy otherwise,” The airlock opened, and the Human delegation walked in, consisting of the Captain, Tactician, the Operative, both of the huge guards, and three unknown crew-members, one female and two males. Tempo addressed them, “Welcome aboard the Azimol citadel, let us proceed to the farseer compound right away.”
Alexander Jardin nodded, “Of course, considering that the Umiak will reach Leido in less than two days.”
Guarded by four Teidars which ensured that nobody would dare snoop on them, the group took a number of empty secondary corridors on their way to the farseer compound. Here, Mizol Parat Midnight received them, and led everyone inside. Her sending was even colder and more impersonal as before, “The Torimor approved their visit, but do we really need to allow everyone into the inner part?”
This was apparently addressed to Tempo, since she replied in an equally cold tone, “The guards can stay in the outer room here, but the rest must be led inside, since they are all telepaths. I don’t like it either, but can you spot the Shells instead?”
“Damn the husks and the melor both,” answered Midnight, then addressed the Humans with a smile, “I’m Mizol Parat Neste, my spoken name means Midnight, and my task is overseeing the Bistima, the Farseers of the citadel.”
The Humans introduced themselves in turn, including the three others, who turned out to be their equivalent of the farseers. Instead of paying much attention to it, Emberwing focused on that particular expression, melor, which meant undead. The other Parat was most probably from Perrein as well, so it could explain the usage of this archaic concept, but why would she attribute it to the Humans? As an insult? Ironically enough, it wasn’t that far off of her initial, utterly foolish assessment. Or did she know more about Perrein’s version of the legend about the Dishonored Ones? On second thought, why did she even get sidetracked with this superstitious nonsense? It wasn’t helpful right now, and she reverted her attention back to the discussion.
It seemed like the matter was decided for now, and leaving the guards behind, the rest entered the inner chamber. A small and delicate, gray-haired Bistima approached them, “Welcome, I am Elder Farseer Eight Eye. Let us skip the unnecessary pleasantries and proceed to my room right away.”
She turned around and pressed her palm on the wall controls, unlocking the thick door. The Citadel-class amplifier behind it was a truly monumental aperture. In the middle of an ornate, domed hall stood a tall crystalline throne surrounded with a complex movable scaffold holding numerous ceramic tiles and holo-emitters.
The Operative nodded, “Truly impressive, so this is the psionic magnifying glass that you’ve told me about.”
“Yes, it is an accurate description,” answered the Farseer instead, “and I’m its focal point.” She beckoned everyone to approach the throne and sat on it.
The Captain bowed slightly and addressed the Bistima, “Allow me an audience, your psionic highness. I wish to learn of your magic.”
Parat Midnight frowned ever so slightly, but Eight Eye stopped her with a gentle telepathic nudge. Then, she smiled at the Human, “Permission granted, seeker of knowledge, but I also want to know of your ways to lift that Shell lotai.”
“The problem is that to us, there is no barrier.” Alexander Jardin stroked his beard, “We can sense the Umiak just the same as the crew of the Barsam ship, for example. Of course, we must make due without amplification, so the range is quite short. It’s possible that whatever the Hierarchy developed does impair our abilities and shortens detection range or lowers the resolution, but the margin may be too small to be easily noticeable.”
“So, how do you accomplish your farsensing without amplification?” The Bistima went straight to the crucial point.
“Just like many smaller telescopes can imitate a single big one,” Zarjow pointed at the psionic machinery, “Several distributed, but interconnected receivers focus on the same target and then combine their results.”
The farseer pondered for a moment, “Yes, I think that in ancient times, something similar was done by my predecessors as well. With the discovery of the amplifiers, such techniques fell into disuse and were forgotten, since they could only be taught telepathically.”
“Can you attempt to recreate them?” asked Tempo.
“I would, if I could.” Eight Eye shook her head, “This is only something that was mentioned in the archives, with no explanation given as to how a signal synthesis could be achieved. We even tried that among other things as well, but to no avail, it would probably take a lifetime to perfect. Besides, interstellar sensing was only possible with amplifiers, so it’s not useful anyway. At least for us, that is.”
“Since we cannot share our techniques directly, and it’s nothing that can be expressed in words, perhaps we could demonstrate them to each other instead?” proposed Ellen Jardin.
“Yes, it is a good starting point. Please step back.” The Farseer leaned back into her throne-like amplifier and closed her eyes. The device activated, and the scaffolding closed in on her, forming a bubble around the throne. Emberwing could hear a beautiful, yet very faint melody that slowly grew in strength. It was somehow similar to the one produced by the Human ship when it accelerated, but at the same time, it had a completely different tune and cadence. The music rose up along the ornate walls, converged on the high ceiling and then, continued to expand beyond, transcending the physical world, filling everything with its rhythm. The performance drew Emberwings attention and caused her to forget everything else for a moment.
Enchanted by this fantastic melody, she did not realize that the Farseer asked her something at first, but the power of the sending was impossible to ignore, “Excuse me for startling you, my strength is hard to adjust. Warrior Emberwing, I’ve been told that you managed to pierce the Human lotai? A feat that even an experienced and amplified Elder Farseer could not achieve?”
“I’m sorry if I infringed upon your caste’s honor, respected Bistima, it’s just a few dream fragments at this point.” apologized Emberwing.
“I’m not blaming you,” Eight Eyes sending was unusually potent for a farseer, but had a very gentle undertone, “Instead, it is my honor to learn of new abilities and to meet our long-lost cousins.”
“Cousins?” Emberwing suppressed a frown, “Parat Midnight called them melor.”
“She’s very frustrated, and is also piling too much undeserved blame on herself, so forgive her for being so rude. My annoyance at the inability to see the Shells must’ve affected her,” answered the Farseer, then she opened the amplifier, which stopped the music, and addressed the Humans, “I couldn’t detect you at all, but your presence did not interfere with my farsensing either. Have you felt something?”
“No, there wasn’t anything on our end, too, despite the fact that we did our best to sense you.” The Tactician crossed her arms, “How about trying out the amplifier next?”
“It needs very delicate tuning, but on the other hand, I can sense whether it’s working at all,” Eight Eye stood up, and pointed to her seat, “Do you need any special arrangements for your farsensing?”
“We just have to concentrate on a central point, in this case, me.” replied Ellen Jardin.
“Then, let me choose a training program,” The farseer pressed some buttons on the throne’s hand-rest console, “You can activate it with this command.”
The Tactician took a seat in the amplifier, and the framework closed again. Meanwhile, the other Humans assumed positions around the bubble. Gradually, the faint humming became audible, yet it was strangely distorted. Eight Eye noticed it as well, “Even the calibrating routine doesn’t work, please, select the second program, it should be highlighted right now.”
“Of course,” answered the Captain. The music shifted slightly, but it was still too disharmonious.
The farseer sighted, “As expected, the amplifiers are designed for us, and since we cannot hear each other, the frequencies must be different as well.”
“You mean that our sanzai operates in a different frequency range than theirs, and it’s the reason for the incompatibility?” Tempo immediately perked up.
“Possibly, although I don’t think that this physical concept can be applied to telepathy. Or we simply never thought of it in this way!” Eight Eye was clearly elated, “The opportunity to compare our mental talents with those of a different race might be even more fruitful than expected. Especially with the original!”
“We are not a copy!” Emberwing decided to join the discussion as well, “What we have to understand, though, is how they can spot the Shells. The frequency theory might have some veracity, since the Enemy may have managed to employ amplifiers in a completely unknown way and somehow, tuned themselves out of our perception range.”
Parat Midnight took a tablet out of her leg pouch and checked something, “The Gallens are still sifting through the debris of that Shell ship, but so far, they only found a couple of tiny amplifier shards, not nearly enough just for a single personal amplifier. So, unless the Humans have kept it all for themselves, I don’t think that it is a good lead.”
“Tuning out?” The farseer mulled over this for a moment, “I have to look through the archives once more after we’re finished with this, the training program should end right about now.”
She was right, the cacophonic melody stopped and the amplifier sphere opened. Numerous manipulators that carried the pieces returned them into their stand-by positions on the walls. Ellen Jardin stood up, “We didn’t register any change in our perception abilities, it might be indeed an issue of frequency.”
The Mizol exchanged glances, and Midnight proposed a different approach, “For the next step, we can try and adapt an amplifier to your specifications. Let us proceed to the secondary one.”
“We need to make a status report to our superiors,” Tempo excused herself, and added in sanzai, “Come with me, I need to ask you something, and then there’s your appointment with the Counselor as well.”
Farseer Eight Eye and Parat Midnight took the Humans to the elevator, while Tempo led her out of the compound, “Did you notice anything unusual about them, especially when they were in the amplifier?”
Apart from the obvious change in tune, nothing came to mind, thought Emberwing, “Nothing of interest, I could not pick up any telepathy, they must be completely outside what our sanzai normally perceives.”
“I’m now certain that the inability to read them must be the reason why they can see the Shells, while we can’t.” Tempo rubbed her forehead, “But the Torimor is interested in results, not theories. We still have no idea how you receive those dream fragments or why we cannot spot the husks. Anyway, at least it’s a hint. You should see the Tiret, maybe she found something useful in her files.”
“It’s doubtful that there’s a manual on how to tune our brains,” responded Emberwing, “On the other hand, I look forward to some proper counseling.”
Tempo went to report it all to Silvermist, so Emberwing recalled the station's layout and entered the next lift capsule. The Tiret would certainly diagnose her with an overabundance of mental problems, perhaps enough for an extended leave?
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XXIV: The Song
The counselor's office was not far from the medbay, and as Emberwing approached it, she heard an eager-sounding voice: “I’ve been expecting you. Please enter.”
The specialist was very young, yet her sending was filled with confidence. Still, there was a certain undertone that hinted at the enormous effort it took to reach this level. “Hello, I’m Soroin Tiret Oasis, please, take a seat and let us begin.”
She sat on the recliner, “What should I start with?”
“Let me diagnose you first, this is my job, after all.” Oasis stretched out her palm and Emberwing put her hand on top of it, enchanting the telepathic link. The Tiret took some time analyzing her and sent in an optimistic tone, “You have certainly an exceptional level of mental fortitude. I’ve witnessed a lot of warriors that needed therapy after going through a similar hardship. But you persevered and even managed to invoke a therapeutic technique all by yourself, that is no mean feat.”
Was the Stormcalmer technique really such a big deal? “My dreams just reenacted an often-told legend of my clan, and I’m still far from being a citadel of mental fortitude.”
“No, this method is actually very difficult, only a highly specialized psionic healer, of no less than Mystic rank, is allowed to perform it!” The Tiret was genuinely impressed.
“There are still too many issues with spikes of attention deficit, for example.” Emberwing experienced two of such instances today alone, “Then, there are mood swings, irritation, and most importantly, nightmares!”
“I understand, but it is completely normal after such an ordeal.” The counselor radiated a sense of calmness, “Soon enough, you will return to your usual self. There is nothing truly dangerous, or requiring special therapy. Talking about it will speed up the recovery even more.”
“You have quite a lot of unwarranted trust in me, but thank you, nevertheless,” Instilling self-confidence was probably an important part of counseling, and while the reassurance did not sound like a lie, it was still difficult to believe. The advice of sharing the burden might be a good idea, except that her friends were either dead or in a different sector altogether. At least her psyche seemed to be stable enough, “Since I’m not crazy, where do those strange dreams come from?”
“I have studied the database extensively and also requested the Mizol department for additional information.” The counselor nodded energetically, “My skills are certainly not at the level of a proper, male, Tiret, but I’m ready to tackle this challenge! Let us analyze them in detail.”
What an enthusiastic warrior, thought Emberwing, and recounted all her dreams about that fantastic city in chronological order, as well as her theory about its origins. Oasis was listening very attentively, asking questions as well as making notes.
“A truly fascinating story,” The counselor's sending was almost dreamy, “To construct entire worlds with nothing but pure imagination, I’d love to study them in detail.”
“Then you should contact Listel Tozet Beryl, she’d be very happy to provide additional information.” She was most probably submerged in scientific work, though.
“Of course, I’ll do that as well,” Oasis retracted her hand and used it to rub her temples, “This was very insightful, but for now, I’ll need a bit of time to analyze it all at length. The imagery is somewhat similar to what normal dream leaks cause, yet it is also too interactive. It could indeed be a subliminal attempt to connect with each other instead. Additionally, the test results from your scan are not yet ready, they would be of great help as well.”
“Just take your time, I’ll come back tomorrow,” She still had plenty of work left anyway.
Emberwing returned to her cabin and completed all the bureaucratic procedures that remained unfinished due to her dozing off. Then, she wrote a letter to her family, describing how her sister fell in battle. She also checked her inbox and compiled a report on Human technology that Listel Beryl had requested. With the chores being done, it was time for sleep. Her main task was, after all, to be a test subject and to explore this strange connection, since she couldn’t help with the breaching of the Shell lotai.
In the dream, she found herself wandering the backstreets of the slum yet again. The inhabitants still avoided her, and would be of no help clearing up this mystery. As if reacting to her question, the dream led her away from this wretched quarter, back to the main street. For some reason, many people crowded there, making it nearly impossible to advance any further. She tried to ask a couple of them what was going on, but everyone had a clear and pronounced sense of disdain for her kind.
At least, up until one of the hybrids, or should she call them elves instead, turned around and replied to her in sanzai, no less: “I must be blessed indeed, for the woman of my dreams is approaching me on her own. Welcome to the illustrious City of Pillars, whose beauty you outshine with most extraordinary ease. I am the humble bard Athedil, at your service forevermore.”
His tone was playful, or rather, salacious, but at least there seemed to be no ill-will. “I am warrior Emberwing, and most certainly not anyone’s woman. But I would appreciate it if you could tell me the reason why such a crowd had gathered here.”
The male bowed slightly, “Forgive me for being overly forceful, oh proud and mighty clan warrior, my desires are sometimes swifter than my wit, and my charm is therefore unable to dress them into pretty livery quickly enough.”
This was the first time when Emberwing experienced such highly embellished usage of sanzai. Telepathy was inherently truthful and precise, yet here, the sending contained so much unneeded decoration. Despite this, it felt to be genuine, and the flowery subtext was woven into the message with great skill, “You have a rather fanciful way to use sanzai.”
“Of course, my fair lady, I am a bard, and fanciful is therefore my second name,” Athedil offered her a radiant smile, “In order to entertain, I must use every talent of mine to enchant my audience. As to your initial question, today, I attend this magnificent parade in order to compose a new song. The city is filled with pilgrims and all taverns are crammed with paying customers. Pray tell, would you be so kind as to help me find the inspiration to elevate my ballad to new heights of beguilement?”
Before he could elaborate any further and explain the occasion, the alarm ended the dream. Emberwing sat up and wondered, was her mind truly able to construct such a person from scratch, or whose fantasy did she partake in? Could Human sanzai be this strange? She mulled over it while getting ready, then decided to discuss it with the counselor, and went to the Promenade to eat something. Curious about the current rumors, Emberwing listened to a number of conversations while paying her tab and ordering some food. As expected, the Humans were the topic number one, while the Hierarchy incursion was discussed sparsely, as if avoiding mentioning it altogether. Before anyone could link her with either of them and ask some unwanted questions, she finished eating, and headed to the counselor’s office.
Oasis welcomed her inside, then explained in a slightly tired tone, “I’ve pulled an all-nighter, and it was well worth the effort. This fascinating phenomenon is certainly unique, but it can still be fitted within the framework of our standard theories regarding telepathy. The most likely cause is your subconscious mind trying to interpret alien thought patterns, and the dreams were the first thing it could work with. Maybe something is preventing them to connect with us while being awake, but it is weakened during sleep.”
“So you think that it is the Humans that leak their dreams, so I’m picking up fragments and integrate them into mine?” While it sounded like a convenient explanation, perhaps it was too convenient, “Then what about that level of interaction? You’ve said that it was out of the norm.”
“Yes, for us, because we Loroi are not overly imaginative. Our dreams are mostly rehearsals of real events, with some minor variations. If those leak, then the receiving person usually sees a static dream sequence. Since most involuntary transmissions are caused by distress, this forces everyone nearby to relieve the traumatic experience, either together with the sender, or seldom in her place.” The counselor sighed, “While it makes the diagnosis rather easy, the treatment is a very complex issue.”
“Like with Pallan Fireblade?” She remembered Beryl talking about it some time ago.
“Yes, although Fireblade is a special case”, Oasis nodded, “Anyway, from what I’ve read, the Humans should be very creative, so this, combined with their fledgling experience in telepathy, could lead to such an accidental broadcast. Especially if you intercepted multiple dream fragments about the same topic and managed to establish some kind of connection to partake in dreams.”
“Wouldn’t the Humans then be constantly troubled with invading each other’s dreams?” wondered Emberwing, “Sealing one’s telepathy during sleep is something that small children learn naturally.”
The Tiret shrugged, “I can only speculate based on the limited data that we have. It might be connected to the fact that they unlock their telepathy forcefully, while we possess it from birth.”
This sounded logical enough, and she didn’t have a better explanation anyway, “Then let me tell you about my most recent dream, it was about that strange city yet again.”
Oasis listened very attentively, but after the tale was finished, she simply grasped her head with both hands and groaned, “There goes that theory. This is way over my competence grade, or even that of a senior counselor. You’d need several Nedatan Tiret, some Mizol, a number of Listel and also a Mystic, who specializes in dream healing. That’s an entire research team already, and I’m just a Soroin Tiret!”
“What is so special about this dream?” Emberwing did not understand her sudden mood swing.
“Everything...” She sounded weary, her enthusiasm reserve was apparently empty, “The eloquence, the interactivity and most importantly, at this enormous range!”
“But if they can farsense without…” began Emberwing.
“That’s not the same,” The Tiret interrupted her, “Simply sensing a presence at this range is certainly possible for a talented individual. At the same time, it’s unthinkable to have a two-way connection over this distance. So they are either powerful enough for you to receive so much of their dreams even here, a truly frightening prospect, or all those images are already in your head. Regardless, both points mean that I need to start from the beginning, and the database won’t be of much help.”
“Then what if they are somehow amplified without knowing it?” Emberwing’s mind quickly went through her memories, and she recalled the strange tune that the Human ship generated. It was somewhat similar to the faint melody of Eight Eye's chamber, “As they accelerated to overtake the Shells, their ship began to vibrate. It then produced an otherworldly song which I’ve never heard before, but yesterday, the farseer amplifier sounded somewhat similar.”
“Ships can’t sing, though?” asked the Tiret. Then, as she finally comprehended it, her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, “Wait, you could hear THAT?!”
“Hear what?” She did not understand the question despite telepathy.
“Give me your hand,” The counselor grabbed her palm, then continued in an astonished tone, “I almost thought that you were playing a cruel joke on me, and after a sleepless night, my sense of humor is severely depleted. Yet, you appear to speak the truth, except that there’s nothing to hear! The farseer amplifiers do not require energy, do not affect telekinesis or respond to any known energy wavelengths. They are also heavily shielded, making it nigh impossible for them to produce sounds in any way! Only the Bistima can hear something akin to a melody, but it is generated in their minds due to the psionic focus. Everyone else is just not sensitive enough to perceive it!”
”I underwent the standard set of ability tests, and they did not reveal any extraordinary telepathic talents, only an eidetic memory.” Emberwing was now utterly baffled. “Or was this somehow falsified? I wasn’t even allowed to become a Listel.”
The counselor let go of her hand and turned to the console, “I have your personal file here, it shows average ratings for Telesend, Telereceive and a slightly above average level of Mind Shield. While I’m not yet qualified to perform those tests, I know how thorough the experts are. There’s no way that they could’ve overlooked a highly valuable farseer candidate, and clan politics do not have any power over that. Right, let’s visit Disis Willpower, I need to ask her some questions about your medical test results as well.”
They quickly left for the medbay, Oasis with renewed determination, and Emberwing with a sense of confusion. The Tiret pulled out a small tablet, “I’ve notified the Disis, as well as the Mizol department. If you have managed to awaken a farseer talent, then it will be a significant discovery.”
“But what if it is caused by the Humans?” Emberwing could still not believe that her telepathy somehow became more sensitive.
“That’s what we’re here for,” said Oasis as both walked into the medbay, and proceeded deeper into it, “Doranzer Disis Willpower, have you finished reviewing the test?”
“I do have the preliminary results, but a scientific analysis needs more time,” answered the medic from the room on the left, “Most Listel are busy with the Human farsight issue.”
“This matter could be tied into that,” they entered the room where Willpower was sitting behind a console, “Torret Emberwing displayed a reaction to the farseer amplifier!”
“What!?” the medic spun around on her chair, “That’s impossible!”
“I don’t really understand it either,” Emberwing recounted her experience in the amplifier, “That melody seemed to be just a minor issue not even worth mentioning.”
“No, you couldn’t have possibly known.” The Doranzer pointed to her screen, “I was analyzing your brain scans, and upon a closer look, the neurotransmitter levels do show some rather improbable combinations. It may help to compare them with farseer patterns, but we’ll need special clearances for that.”
“I have anticipated that and requested a Mizol to come over,” answered Oasis.
“Then, let’s perform a second scan while we wait”, suggested the medic.
The scan itself was finished quickly enough, but Willpower frowned at the results, “This makes even less sense, all values have returned to completely normal levels, except for two groups, which are just slightly above the norm. But those are exactly the ones primarily affected by the drugs which the farseers take, and usually, they do not fluctuate.”
“That is restricted information,” Torimor Silvermist entered the medbay all of a sudden, “Let us discuss it in a separate room, the implications of this phenomenon could be groundbreaking. The Humans are currently in the secondary amplifier, so we shall peruse the main one.”
Emberwing dressed herself and the group proceeded to the farseer compound. The high-ranking Mizol sent in a quiet, even tone, “We will attempt to amplify you.”
“But I’m not a farseer and without any training!” retorted Emberwing.
“If you managed to perceive this whisper, then your sensitivity could be indeed high enough to react to the amplifier.” The answer was still quiet, yet the tone was now somewhat intrigued. “Tell me, can you remember any other instances where you could hear something which seemed strange or out of place?”
Her eidetic memory made forgetting unlikely, so she quickly reviewed the last few days, “First, Parat Midnight and Parat Tempo exchanged some sort of code, ash six. Then, I could read a Paset’s surface thoughts without touching her, surprising her greatly. Finally, my sensing range in the Promenade today appeared to be much wider than usual.”
“Ash Six means non-Loroi telepaths around, use only shielded sanzai for critical information. To intercept a Parat’s covert sending is a good show of talent.” commented Silvermist in a normal tone as they entered the reception chamber, where Midnight, as well as Eight Eye, were already awaiting them. She turned to the Bistima, “Elder Farseer, forgive me for calling you all of a sudden, but what do you think of accepting a new apprentice?”
Eight Eye smiled, and then shook her head, “We farseers and you warriors are separated for a very good reason, but I can make an exception to at least test her potential.”
She led the group inside, and Emberwing asked, pointing at the seat, “What are the risks? And, what should I even do?”
“For an untrained mind it is actually not dangerous,” assured her the farseer, “What places a great burden on us is the prolonged usage of the amplifier, together with the drugs that enhance our sight. For now, we’ll merely attempt the same calibration and training routine that the Humans have tried out yesterday. I shall watch over you and gauge your aptitude.”
“I’ve survived worse,” responded Emberwing half in jest, half in order to encourage herself, and took seat upon the crystalline throne. Following the farseer’s detailed explanation, she steeled her mind and activated the aperture. The scaffolding moved in to enclose her in the bubble of the amplifier. Immediately, the faint rhythm became audible and grew in strength.
“Can you hear that melody?” asked Eight Eye, “Empty your mind, quiet your sending, expand your senses, and most importantly, become one with the tune, it shall help you to synchronize with the amplifier.”
The holographic machinery displayed a series of calibration steps, so Emberwing tried what the farseer told her, and let her mind wander. Being empowered by the psionic machinery helped her to spot the Loroi in the chamber easily, despite the intricate lotai that the Torimor was now employing. Then, per the next step, she concentrated on pinpointing minds within her normal sensing range, which turned out to be at least twice as big as before.
Finally, she tried to fully submerge herself into the enchanting tune. This proved to be far more difficult than it sounded. If she focused on the melody, it grew in complexity and demanded all of her attention to follow it. On the other hand, attempting to expand her vision caused her to lose concentration. Despite the trouble of balancing both points, Emberwing wanted to make use of this opportunity, and configured the holo-projectors to display the plan of the station. She wanted to see into the secondary amplifier chamber where the Humans were, but couldn’t reach nearly as far. Even focusing to the utmost of her abilities merely caused a debilitating surge of dizziness instead, and this forced her to stop any further efforts.
The program ended with a chime and the framework retracted into the walls. Emberwing tried to stand up, yet was stopped by Eight Eye’s gentle voice, “Please, take your time to rest, and if possible, tell us of your experience.”
The counselor's office was not far from the medbay, and as Emberwing approached it, she heard an eager-sounding voice: “I’ve been expecting you. Please enter.”
The specialist was very young, yet her sending was filled with confidence. Still, there was a certain undertone that hinted at the enormous effort it took to reach this level. “Hello, I’m Soroin Tiret Oasis, please, take a seat and let us begin.”
She sat on the recliner, “What should I start with?”
“Let me diagnose you first, this is my job, after all.” Oasis stretched out her palm and Emberwing put her hand on top of it, enchanting the telepathic link. The Tiret took some time analyzing her and sent in an optimistic tone, “You have certainly an exceptional level of mental fortitude. I’ve witnessed a lot of warriors that needed therapy after going through a similar hardship. But you persevered and even managed to invoke a therapeutic technique all by yourself, that is no mean feat.”
Was the Stormcalmer technique really such a big deal? “My dreams just reenacted an often-told legend of my clan, and I’m still far from being a citadel of mental fortitude.”
“No, this method is actually very difficult, only a highly specialized psionic healer, of no less than Mystic rank, is allowed to perform it!” The Tiret was genuinely impressed.
“There are still too many issues with spikes of attention deficit, for example.” Emberwing experienced two of such instances today alone, “Then, there are mood swings, irritation, and most importantly, nightmares!”
“I understand, but it is completely normal after such an ordeal.” The counselor radiated a sense of calmness, “Soon enough, you will return to your usual self. There is nothing truly dangerous, or requiring special therapy. Talking about it will speed up the recovery even more.”
“You have quite a lot of unwarranted trust in me, but thank you, nevertheless,” Instilling self-confidence was probably an important part of counseling, and while the reassurance did not sound like a lie, it was still difficult to believe. The advice of sharing the burden might be a good idea, except that her friends were either dead or in a different sector altogether. At least her psyche seemed to be stable enough, “Since I’m not crazy, where do those strange dreams come from?”
“I have studied the database extensively and also requested the Mizol department for additional information.” The counselor nodded energetically, “My skills are certainly not at the level of a proper, male, Tiret, but I’m ready to tackle this challenge! Let us analyze them in detail.”
What an enthusiastic warrior, thought Emberwing, and recounted all her dreams about that fantastic city in chronological order, as well as her theory about its origins. Oasis was listening very attentively, asking questions as well as making notes.
“A truly fascinating story,” The counselor's sending was almost dreamy, “To construct entire worlds with nothing but pure imagination, I’d love to study them in detail.”
“Then you should contact Listel Tozet Beryl, she’d be very happy to provide additional information.” She was most probably submerged in scientific work, though.
“Of course, I’ll do that as well,” Oasis retracted her hand and used it to rub her temples, “This was very insightful, but for now, I’ll need a bit of time to analyze it all at length. The imagery is somewhat similar to what normal dream leaks cause, yet it is also too interactive. It could indeed be a subliminal attempt to connect with each other instead. Additionally, the test results from your scan are not yet ready, they would be of great help as well.”
“Just take your time, I’ll come back tomorrow,” She still had plenty of work left anyway.
Emberwing returned to her cabin and completed all the bureaucratic procedures that remained unfinished due to her dozing off. Then, she wrote a letter to her family, describing how her sister fell in battle. She also checked her inbox and compiled a report on Human technology that Listel Beryl had requested. With the chores being done, it was time for sleep. Her main task was, after all, to be a test subject and to explore this strange connection, since she couldn’t help with the breaching of the Shell lotai.
In the dream, she found herself wandering the backstreets of the slum yet again. The inhabitants still avoided her, and would be of no help clearing up this mystery. As if reacting to her question, the dream led her away from this wretched quarter, back to the main street. For some reason, many people crowded there, making it nearly impossible to advance any further. She tried to ask a couple of them what was going on, but everyone had a clear and pronounced sense of disdain for her kind.
At least, up until one of the hybrids, or should she call them elves instead, turned around and replied to her in sanzai, no less: “I must be blessed indeed, for the woman of my dreams is approaching me on her own. Welcome to the illustrious City of Pillars, whose beauty you outshine with most extraordinary ease. I am the humble bard Athedil, at your service forevermore.”
His tone was playful, or rather, salacious, but at least there seemed to be no ill-will. “I am warrior Emberwing, and most certainly not anyone’s woman. But I would appreciate it if you could tell me the reason why such a crowd had gathered here.”
The male bowed slightly, “Forgive me for being overly forceful, oh proud and mighty clan warrior, my desires are sometimes swifter than my wit, and my charm is therefore unable to dress them into pretty livery quickly enough.”
This was the first time when Emberwing experienced such highly embellished usage of sanzai. Telepathy was inherently truthful and precise, yet here, the sending contained so much unneeded decoration. Despite this, it felt to be genuine, and the flowery subtext was woven into the message with great skill, “You have a rather fanciful way to use sanzai.”
“Of course, my fair lady, I am a bard, and fanciful is therefore my second name,” Athedil offered her a radiant smile, “In order to entertain, I must use every talent of mine to enchant my audience. As to your initial question, today, I attend this magnificent parade in order to compose a new song. The city is filled with pilgrims and all taverns are crammed with paying customers. Pray tell, would you be so kind as to help me find the inspiration to elevate my ballad to new heights of beguilement?”
Before he could elaborate any further and explain the occasion, the alarm ended the dream. Emberwing sat up and wondered, was her mind truly able to construct such a person from scratch, or whose fantasy did she partake in? Could Human sanzai be this strange? She mulled over it while getting ready, then decided to discuss it with the counselor, and went to the Promenade to eat something. Curious about the current rumors, Emberwing listened to a number of conversations while paying her tab and ordering some food. As expected, the Humans were the topic number one, while the Hierarchy incursion was discussed sparsely, as if avoiding mentioning it altogether. Before anyone could link her with either of them and ask some unwanted questions, she finished eating, and headed to the counselor’s office.
Oasis welcomed her inside, then explained in a slightly tired tone, “I’ve pulled an all-nighter, and it was well worth the effort. This fascinating phenomenon is certainly unique, but it can still be fitted within the framework of our standard theories regarding telepathy. The most likely cause is your subconscious mind trying to interpret alien thought patterns, and the dreams were the first thing it could work with. Maybe something is preventing them to connect with us while being awake, but it is weakened during sleep.”
“So you think that it is the Humans that leak their dreams, so I’m picking up fragments and integrate them into mine?” While it sounded like a convenient explanation, perhaps it was too convenient, “Then what about that level of interaction? You’ve said that it was out of the norm.”
“Yes, for us, because we Loroi are not overly imaginative. Our dreams are mostly rehearsals of real events, with some minor variations. If those leak, then the receiving person usually sees a static dream sequence. Since most involuntary transmissions are caused by distress, this forces everyone nearby to relieve the traumatic experience, either together with the sender, or seldom in her place.” The counselor sighed, “While it makes the diagnosis rather easy, the treatment is a very complex issue.”
“Like with Pallan Fireblade?” She remembered Beryl talking about it some time ago.
“Yes, although Fireblade is a special case”, Oasis nodded, “Anyway, from what I’ve read, the Humans should be very creative, so this, combined with their fledgling experience in telepathy, could lead to such an accidental broadcast. Especially if you intercepted multiple dream fragments about the same topic and managed to establish some kind of connection to partake in dreams.”
“Wouldn’t the Humans then be constantly troubled with invading each other’s dreams?” wondered Emberwing, “Sealing one’s telepathy during sleep is something that small children learn naturally.”
The Tiret shrugged, “I can only speculate based on the limited data that we have. It might be connected to the fact that they unlock their telepathy forcefully, while we possess it from birth.”
This sounded logical enough, and she didn’t have a better explanation anyway, “Then let me tell you about my most recent dream, it was about that strange city yet again.”
Oasis listened very attentively, but after the tale was finished, she simply grasped her head with both hands and groaned, “There goes that theory. This is way over my competence grade, or even that of a senior counselor. You’d need several Nedatan Tiret, some Mizol, a number of Listel and also a Mystic, who specializes in dream healing. That’s an entire research team already, and I’m just a Soroin Tiret!”
“What is so special about this dream?” Emberwing did not understand her sudden mood swing.
“Everything...” She sounded weary, her enthusiasm reserve was apparently empty, “The eloquence, the interactivity and most importantly, at this enormous range!”
“But if they can farsense without…” began Emberwing.
“That’s not the same,” The Tiret interrupted her, “Simply sensing a presence at this range is certainly possible for a talented individual. At the same time, it’s unthinkable to have a two-way connection over this distance. So they are either powerful enough for you to receive so much of their dreams even here, a truly frightening prospect, or all those images are already in your head. Regardless, both points mean that I need to start from the beginning, and the database won’t be of much help.”
“Then what if they are somehow amplified without knowing it?” Emberwing’s mind quickly went through her memories, and she recalled the strange tune that the Human ship generated. It was somewhat similar to the faint melody of Eight Eye's chamber, “As they accelerated to overtake the Shells, their ship began to vibrate. It then produced an otherworldly song which I’ve never heard before, but yesterday, the farseer amplifier sounded somewhat similar.”
“Ships can’t sing, though?” asked the Tiret. Then, as she finally comprehended it, her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, “Wait, you could hear THAT?!”
“Hear what?” She did not understand the question despite telepathy.
“Give me your hand,” The counselor grabbed her palm, then continued in an astonished tone, “I almost thought that you were playing a cruel joke on me, and after a sleepless night, my sense of humor is severely depleted. Yet, you appear to speak the truth, except that there’s nothing to hear! The farseer amplifiers do not require energy, do not affect telekinesis or respond to any known energy wavelengths. They are also heavily shielded, making it nigh impossible for them to produce sounds in any way! Only the Bistima can hear something akin to a melody, but it is generated in their minds due to the psionic focus. Everyone else is just not sensitive enough to perceive it!”
”I underwent the standard set of ability tests, and they did not reveal any extraordinary telepathic talents, only an eidetic memory.” Emberwing was now utterly baffled. “Or was this somehow falsified? I wasn’t even allowed to become a Listel.”
The counselor let go of her hand and turned to the console, “I have your personal file here, it shows average ratings for Telesend, Telereceive and a slightly above average level of Mind Shield. While I’m not yet qualified to perform those tests, I know how thorough the experts are. There’s no way that they could’ve overlooked a highly valuable farseer candidate, and clan politics do not have any power over that. Right, let’s visit Disis Willpower, I need to ask her some questions about your medical test results as well.”
They quickly left for the medbay, Oasis with renewed determination, and Emberwing with a sense of confusion. The Tiret pulled out a small tablet, “I’ve notified the Disis, as well as the Mizol department. If you have managed to awaken a farseer talent, then it will be a significant discovery.”
“But what if it is caused by the Humans?” Emberwing could still not believe that her telepathy somehow became more sensitive.
“That’s what we’re here for,” said Oasis as both walked into the medbay, and proceeded deeper into it, “Doranzer Disis Willpower, have you finished reviewing the test?”
“I do have the preliminary results, but a scientific analysis needs more time,” answered the medic from the room on the left, “Most Listel are busy with the Human farsight issue.”
“This matter could be tied into that,” they entered the room where Willpower was sitting behind a console, “Torret Emberwing displayed a reaction to the farseer amplifier!”
“What!?” the medic spun around on her chair, “That’s impossible!”
“I don’t really understand it either,” Emberwing recounted her experience in the amplifier, “That melody seemed to be just a minor issue not even worth mentioning.”
“No, you couldn’t have possibly known.” The Doranzer pointed to her screen, “I was analyzing your brain scans, and upon a closer look, the neurotransmitter levels do show some rather improbable combinations. It may help to compare them with farseer patterns, but we’ll need special clearances for that.”
“I have anticipated that and requested a Mizol to come over,” answered Oasis.
“Then, let’s perform a second scan while we wait”, suggested the medic.
The scan itself was finished quickly enough, but Willpower frowned at the results, “This makes even less sense, all values have returned to completely normal levels, except for two groups, which are just slightly above the norm. But those are exactly the ones primarily affected by the drugs which the farseers take, and usually, they do not fluctuate.”
“That is restricted information,” Torimor Silvermist entered the medbay all of a sudden, “Let us discuss it in a separate room, the implications of this phenomenon could be groundbreaking. The Humans are currently in the secondary amplifier, so we shall peruse the main one.”
Emberwing dressed herself and the group proceeded to the farseer compound. The high-ranking Mizol sent in a quiet, even tone, “We will attempt to amplify you.”
“But I’m not a farseer and without any training!” retorted Emberwing.
“If you managed to perceive this whisper, then your sensitivity could be indeed high enough to react to the amplifier.” The answer was still quiet, yet the tone was now somewhat intrigued. “Tell me, can you remember any other instances where you could hear something which seemed strange or out of place?”
Her eidetic memory made forgetting unlikely, so she quickly reviewed the last few days, “First, Parat Midnight and Parat Tempo exchanged some sort of code, ash six. Then, I could read a Paset’s surface thoughts without touching her, surprising her greatly. Finally, my sensing range in the Promenade today appeared to be much wider than usual.”
“Ash Six means non-Loroi telepaths around, use only shielded sanzai for critical information. To intercept a Parat’s covert sending is a good show of talent.” commented Silvermist in a normal tone as they entered the reception chamber, where Midnight, as well as Eight Eye, were already awaiting them. She turned to the Bistima, “Elder Farseer, forgive me for calling you all of a sudden, but what do you think of accepting a new apprentice?”
Eight Eye smiled, and then shook her head, “We farseers and you warriors are separated for a very good reason, but I can make an exception to at least test her potential.”
She led the group inside, and Emberwing asked, pointing at the seat, “What are the risks? And, what should I even do?”
“For an untrained mind it is actually not dangerous,” assured her the farseer, “What places a great burden on us is the prolonged usage of the amplifier, together with the drugs that enhance our sight. For now, we’ll merely attempt the same calibration and training routine that the Humans have tried out yesterday. I shall watch over you and gauge your aptitude.”
“I’ve survived worse,” responded Emberwing half in jest, half in order to encourage herself, and took seat upon the crystalline throne. Following the farseer’s detailed explanation, she steeled her mind and activated the aperture. The scaffolding moved in to enclose her in the bubble of the amplifier. Immediately, the faint rhythm became audible and grew in strength.
“Can you hear that melody?” asked Eight Eye, “Empty your mind, quiet your sending, expand your senses, and most importantly, become one with the tune, it shall help you to synchronize with the amplifier.”
The holographic machinery displayed a series of calibration steps, so Emberwing tried what the farseer told her, and let her mind wander. Being empowered by the psionic machinery helped her to spot the Loroi in the chamber easily, despite the intricate lotai that the Torimor was now employing. Then, per the next step, she concentrated on pinpointing minds within her normal sensing range, which turned out to be at least twice as big as before.
Finally, she tried to fully submerge herself into the enchanting tune. This proved to be far more difficult than it sounded. If she focused on the melody, it grew in complexity and demanded all of her attention to follow it. On the other hand, attempting to expand her vision caused her to lose concentration. Despite the trouble of balancing both points, Emberwing wanted to make use of this opportunity, and configured the holo-projectors to display the plan of the station. She wanted to see into the secondary amplifier chamber where the Humans were, but couldn’t reach nearly as far. Even focusing to the utmost of her abilities merely caused a debilitating surge of dizziness instead, and this forced her to stop any further efforts.
The program ended with a chime and the framework retracted into the walls. Emberwing tried to stand up, yet was stopped by Eight Eye’s gentle voice, “Please, take your time to rest, and if possible, tell us of your experience.”
Last edited by Cthulhu on Wed Jan 12, 2022 4:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Intermission L: The phantom Lord
The senior disciple climbed the stairs to the shrine together with the old High Priest, and for the latter part of the journey, the tall woman had to support her elderly mentor. The occasion was also connected with this obvious issue. Today, she would undergo the last trial to begin her training in order to replace him in a few years time. They entered the sanctuary, and instead of kneeling before the altar, the old priest pointed to the closed door behind it.
“Come, my child, for your devotion has granted you the highest honor.” He unlocked the inner sanctum with an elaborate, winged key, “Behold the earthly manifestation of the eternally dreaming Divine One, the lauded Holy Vestige.”
“Thank you, most elated Speaker, I, a humble Dreamer, shall delve to the depths of Knowledge and return as the next Speaker.” She recited the words of the ritual and knelt in front of the Treasure. The sacred relic was humming faintly, and it felt like the entire temple complex that was built around it chimed in as well. Being right in front of the Vessel increased the pressure It was exerting manifold, sending ripples through the fabric of reality. She closed her eyes and began meditating, which caused her mind to slowly attune with the hallowed song. Judging by the specific smell, the High Priest must’ve ignited the incense burners. Carried away by their enchanting effect, she submerged herself into the holy music and finally, at the height of the trance, touched the Vestige itself.
This was both a necessary step for the new High Priest to connect with the power of the Divine One, but also a test of devotion, and most importantly, mental fortitude. A flood of information assailed her psyche and employing all the techniques that she had learned, her disciplined mind weaved through the countless torrents. It was said that God would reward the candidate it approved of with an especially powerful and deep vision during their first communion.
After a prolonged time of peace, the situation on the continent was now becoming more turbulent. While the squabbling western peninsula was somewhat pacified thanks to the judicious application of secret murder, the eastern heresy remained an issue even after its backer was removed. Although, the biggest problem were the southern deserts. Several covert attempts to prevent the unification of the nomad clans there had failed. Now, a new warlord was rising to power, and soon, a horde would invade the north, just like two centuries ago.
The church needed to become the civilization’s bulwark against the coming tide once more, and she prayed for divine guidance. As if reacting to this, her vision shifted to the distant south. She saw images of the harsh lives of the nomads, the struggle for survival among the hot sands and dusty plains. The constant clan warfare, the brutal raids, and the yearning for the riches of the north. Among those countless faces, a single one stood out in particular. The dreaded warlord that rose up in the farthest south, an enigmatic figure that the nomads placed an immense amount of trust in, to the point of sheer reverence.
She tried to probe further, to see any weak points, battle plans or other means of bolstering their chances of victory. Her future was also in jeopardy, since the clan-folk would most probably attack at roughly the same time when she should assume the position of the High Priestess. Fortunately, the Deity saw this determination in a favorable light and enhanced the vision even more to reward her. Empowered by the divine sight, she could look into the very hearts of the clan elders and understand their goals. Yet, too engrossed in this, she accidentally plunged further into the maelstrom, far deeper than intended.
The dreamworld of the Transcendent One was a bottomless abyss, and any priest careless enough to delve beyond what their mortal mind could possibly endure would pay the price for their foolish hubris. A gigantic vortex consisting of countless streams of information tore at her very being. The images flickered past her sight at an enormous speed, one stranger than the other. Then, a mysterious figure, shrouded in twilight, became more prominent. Sitting upon a magnificent throne, the personage drowned out everything else with incredible presence, even the larger-than-life image of the warlord.
Suddenly, she was pulled upwards, and found herself back in the chamber. The old priest was holding her head with both hands, “It seems that you were chosen, rewarded and lectured at the same time. Now, I can finally begin to train you.”
The senior disciple climbed the stairs to the shrine together with the old High Priest, and for the latter part of the journey, the tall woman had to support her elderly mentor. The occasion was also connected with this obvious issue. Today, she would undergo the last trial to begin her training in order to replace him in a few years time. They entered the sanctuary, and instead of kneeling before the altar, the old priest pointed to the closed door behind it.
“Come, my child, for your devotion has granted you the highest honor.” He unlocked the inner sanctum with an elaborate, winged key, “Behold the earthly manifestation of the eternally dreaming Divine One, the lauded Holy Vestige.”
“Thank you, most elated Speaker, I, a humble Dreamer, shall delve to the depths of Knowledge and return as the next Speaker.” She recited the words of the ritual and knelt in front of the Treasure. The sacred relic was humming faintly, and it felt like the entire temple complex that was built around it chimed in as well. Being right in front of the Vessel increased the pressure It was exerting manifold, sending ripples through the fabric of reality. She closed her eyes and began meditating, which caused her mind to slowly attune with the hallowed song. Judging by the specific smell, the High Priest must’ve ignited the incense burners. Carried away by their enchanting effect, she submerged herself into the holy music and finally, at the height of the trance, touched the Vestige itself.
This was both a necessary step for the new High Priest to connect with the power of the Divine One, but also a test of devotion, and most importantly, mental fortitude. A flood of information assailed her psyche and employing all the techniques that she had learned, her disciplined mind weaved through the countless torrents. It was said that God would reward the candidate it approved of with an especially powerful and deep vision during their first communion.
After a prolonged time of peace, the situation on the continent was now becoming more turbulent. While the squabbling western peninsula was somewhat pacified thanks to the judicious application of secret murder, the eastern heresy remained an issue even after its backer was removed. Although, the biggest problem were the southern deserts. Several covert attempts to prevent the unification of the nomad clans there had failed. Now, a new warlord was rising to power, and soon, a horde would invade the north, just like two centuries ago.
The church needed to become the civilization’s bulwark against the coming tide once more, and she prayed for divine guidance. As if reacting to this, her vision shifted to the distant south. She saw images of the harsh lives of the nomads, the struggle for survival among the hot sands and dusty plains. The constant clan warfare, the brutal raids, and the yearning for the riches of the north. Among those countless faces, a single one stood out in particular. The dreaded warlord that rose up in the farthest south, an enigmatic figure that the nomads placed an immense amount of trust in, to the point of sheer reverence.
She tried to probe further, to see any weak points, battle plans or other means of bolstering their chances of victory. Her future was also in jeopardy, since the clan-folk would most probably attack at roughly the same time when she should assume the position of the High Priestess. Fortunately, the Deity saw this determination in a favorable light and enhanced the vision even more to reward her. Empowered by the divine sight, she could look into the very hearts of the clan elders and understand their goals. Yet, too engrossed in this, she accidentally plunged further into the maelstrom, far deeper than intended.
The dreamworld of the Transcendent One was a bottomless abyss, and any priest careless enough to delve beyond what their mortal mind could possibly endure would pay the price for their foolish hubris. A gigantic vortex consisting of countless streams of information tore at her very being. The images flickered past her sight at an enormous speed, one stranger than the other. Then, a mysterious figure, shrouded in twilight, became more prominent. Sitting upon a magnificent throne, the personage drowned out everything else with incredible presence, even the larger-than-life image of the warlord.
Suddenly, she was pulled upwards, and found herself back in the chamber. The old priest was holding her head with both hands, “It seems that you were chosen, rewarded and lectured at the same time. Now, I can finally begin to train you.”
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XXV: Evaluation
Still languid due to the overexertion, Emberwing followed the farseer’s advice and remained on her seat, “I could complete the first and second step, but the last one eluded me, unfortunately.”
“That is intentional,” answered Eight Eye with a subtle smile, “Farseer candidates are shown their limitations, and are taught the value of moderation.”
“Yes, I got carried away,” acknowledged Emberwing, “Balancing the amplification was extremely difficult, it wasn’t even possible to look past this compound, not to mention into the secondary amplifier.”
“No, you should’ve been able to see at least that far, some particularly talented, but equally careless candidates even manage to have an interstellar experience before they pass out due to sensory overload,” The Bistima appeared intrigued, “Yet at the same time, you managed to react to the amplifier despite not being a farseer, what a curious combination.”
It seemed like she wasn’t good enough for this experiment, “So what am I even doing in here?”
“Don’t be discouraged, this is a unique opportunity to learn how farsight works,” assured her Eight Eye, “So far, nobody was able to acquire this normally inborn ability, so it stands to reason that something extraordinary must’ve happened, but also that its expression might be unique as well. Even your response to the amplifier had an echo that I’ve never heard before, this needs to be investigated in detail. Perhaps we should attempt to tune the amplifier to this pattern.”
“We are not going to repurpose the primary amplifier for experiments.” The Torimor was not as enthusiastic, “While it is of course very fascinating, time is of utmost importance. First and foremost, the Union needs a method to spot the husks. This new development has at least doubled the amount of theories without providing any concrete answers. We need to exclude as many hypotheses as possible, before trying to verify the rest through experiments. Give me a quick update about whatever you were working on.”
“My initial assumption was disproved,” The counselor explained how the dreams were unaffected by distance, “The Humans are either powerful enough to broadcast a complete dream sequence over that range, or Torret Emberwing was somehow enabled to have a two-way connection with them.”
“Concentrate on finding out if such an occurrence is recorded in the archives, I’ll send you an assistant and the necessary clearance codes.” Silvermist turned to the Doranzer, “Disis Willpower, have you analyzed the scan data?”
“This is my preliminary evaluation,” The Medic handed her a small tablet that she retrieved from a pocket, “Maybe the increase in sensitivity is tied to her brain chemistry. Two scans have shown different results, and some neurotransmitter levels display a rather strange behavior. I’m no expert regarding the farseer drugs, but I think that they affect those values in particular?”
“I’ll forward both data sets to the scientific department with a higher priority, continue working with them,” The Mizol Torimor transferred the results to her device and then returned it, “Parat Midnight, what of the Humans and the secondary amplifier?”
“The other farseers and technicians are still trying to tune it to their specifications, but there are yet no definitive results. After going through the standard calibration steps without much success, they are now devising a way to alter the whole aperture to find a new approach.” answered the other Mizol and shook her head, “It is as if our amplification patterns are completely unsuitable for the aliens.”
“They are also no longer suitable for spotting the Shells, so we’d need a completely new approach anyway,” Silvermist tapped her chin, “This gives me an idea, construct a rudimentary amplifier out of spare parts for the sake of experiments. It should be faster than rebuilding an existing one, and also far easier to reconfigure. Then, we can run two parallel experiments without compromising the main amplifier or involving other ships.”
“I’ll relay that order, it won’t take long,” Parat Midnight nodded, “The citadel should have a significant stockpile of the necessary materials.”
The Torimor turned to Eight Eye, “Since you want to investigate the amplification patterns, include the data about the Human propulsion system as well.”
“The strange melody that the ship produced was not nearly similar enough,” Emberwing shared her memory of that sprint, “The amplifier tune simply made me recall it.”
“Actually, this might be not a coincidence, a number of theories postulate that telepathy utilizes hyperspace in some unknown capacity,” The farseer was genuinely interested in it, “I shall review those as well.”
“Good, then let’s get to work!” sent Silvermist in a command tone before addressing Emberwing in a more polite way, “I would like to discuss the matter with you in private.”
“I accept your invitation,” she agreed with this condition, and stood up, "Lead on.”
“Of course, let us talk in the adjacent training room, it should be remote enough to be secure from interference,” Silvermist smiled, and led her to a separate chamber, “While you are certainly right that I cannot issue you any commands, I’d like for us to cooperate with each other on this important issue.”
“I and my clan are loyal to the Emperor, Mizol Torimor,” Emberwing injected a tiny bit of sarcasm into her sending, the Azerein was after all also a Mizol, but one who could command all Loroi, “What is your suggestion?”
“It seems that Stillstorm’s ways have already influenced you,” acknowledged Silvermist with an equal measure of sarcasm, “I would like to test your mental capabilities in greater detail. We do not have a proper specialist here, but my skills should be up to the task.”
The idea of the necessary deep link with a Mizol was simply outrageous, “I’d like to refuse that.”
“Despite our less than stellar reputation, we Mizol are the sentinels of the Union, and have the best interests of all Loroi at heart.” The Torimor spoke with utmost conviction, “Your newfound abilities are truly mysterious, yet also highly inconsistent and fluctuating. For example, I’ve tried to whisper to you multiple times, to no avail. Then, you also couldn't hear the orders I’ve covertly sent to Parat Midnight, could you?”
“The meaning of best interests is often highly subjective.” retorted Emberwing. The Mizol was likely to try and lure her into whatever scheme she was concocting, yet curiosity got the best of her, “So what did you whisper to me or to Midnight?”
“I’ve ordered her to investigate the amplifier shards that we recovered from the Shell wreck, perhaps they could give us an idea about the correct amplification patterns.” said Silvermist, then added in a less official tone, “As to what I tried to say to you, it was a question regarding the Humans. We need to analyze every small detail of what they’ve said and done.”
“Do you have the ability for thought transfer?” wondered Emberwing, “I might have an eidetic memory, but without the Listel training, scrutinizing it all will take too much time.”
The Torimor explained, “Unfortunately, only Listel of the Chronicler rank are instructed in this technique, and such valuable personnel won’t be stationed here at the front lines. We Mizol employ something different, geared towards single, specific memories, and I doubt that you would trust any of us enough to allow for lengthy rummaging. Therefore, we have to rely on your innate abilities. Please tell me of anything about the Humans that could help us.”
“I’ve already told it all to Parat Tempo, as well as several others, and written numerous reports on it.” Did she overlook something, just like that melody? “The Humans are also highly secretive with any important information.”
“Currently, we need clues about their abilities, especially farsight, and whether they did something to you.” It seemed like even the senior Mizol was at her wit’s end.
“Then, let us concentrate on my medical treatment first, could the Human technology have changed something in my brain?” Emberwing was still somewhat sceptical about being healed by unknown alien technology, what if it had changed her somehow?
“This was one of the first points that we investigated,” answered the Torimor, “All scans showed that you are in best health, even the minor deviations weren’t worth mentioning until you displayed a reaction to the amplifier.”
“It is good to know that I’ve been promoted from lab miros to farseer apprentice,” She was irritated about her strange position in this Human contact group, and at the same time glad to finally be of any help regarding the Shell threat, “We have exchanged medical data with the Humans, did it provide any additional information about their medical technology?”
“Not nearly enough, only the barest necessity regarding potential pathogens,” replied Silvermist, and assured her, “Also, you were never a test subject. Was there anything unusual about the treatment?”
“I simply woke up being fully healed,” Emberwing recalled her awakening in the Human medbay and the initial shock, “The medbay was so similar to ours, that at first, I even assumed being rescued by my own. Then, after seeing a completely psi-inert, but almost identical individual, for a heartbeat I thought that I was among the Voiceless Ones instead.”
“That ancient legend?” Silvermist raised an eyebrow, “I suppose this was not too far-fetched, given their utter silence.”
Emberwing couldn’t be completely sure if this was meant to be condescending or not, “I also overheard Parat Midnight calling the Humans melor, so this reaction might be quite natural.”
“Melor? The undying? That stupid girl has absolutely no idea what this expression even means.” scoffed Silvermist. “Perrein has simply too many archaic superstitions, which the young ones love to misinterpret at their leisure and call that adherence to traditions.”
“There might be some truth in that expression,” Emberwing recalled the point that Zarjow had once brought up, “The Human Operative has speculated that a psi-inert being could be interpreted as the opposite to a living one, an undead, and this concept may have been preserved in the legends. As to its origins, while one possibility might be an android or a personality construct, the other is?”
“I suppose you traditionalists still know the old stories,” Silvermist interrupted her, “If you mean that ancient legend of immortality, then yes, some Perrein versions of the dishonored ones could be interpreted as being vaguely reminiscent of the Humans. But since there are far too many conflicting and wildly varying interpretations, it won’t help us in any way.”
“Moving on, then,” Emberwing simply shrugged, “However, this leads to the next point of interest. Since the Humans couldn’t sense me either, they feared that I was brain-dead, and attempted some psionic techniques of their own to revive me. That didn’t work, and they gave up, but maybe it accomplished something?”
The Torimor listened to her explanation very attentively, “A combined sending that is normally intended to unlock their psionic potential? Of course, you mentioned that in a report. Unfortunately, there’s no way to verify what it did or even ask them about that in an inconspicuous manner, so I didn’t prioritize this issue. Seeing how you developed new abilities, it could be considered a major lead, and I shall analyze this matter in detail.”
“But we Loroi already are telepathic, there’s nothing to unlock!” disagreed Emberwing. “I meant that it could’ve established some sort of connection.”
“Since we can’t spot the Shells or read an alien species, our telepathy might as well need a booster,” Silvermist frowned, “Do not let any perfunctory ideas of Loroi superiority shroud your reason. The only overly detailed information package that the Humans have shared with us contains their theories about our relationship, and the facts presented there are very convincing.”
“This is nothing but propaganda!” The younger Loroi objected vehemently, “We, the true Soia, are far older than those upstarts!”
“It is precisely this arrogance that made us blind and deaf to the Umiak threat, just ask your clan matron if you do not believe me.” Silvermist’s sending leaked a fair share of annoyance, “We cannot allow for that mistake to occur ever again. Those upstart Humans have already overtaken the Union in some fields, so what does it say about us? How can we, the true Soia, struggle to defeat some scavenging vermin and their slave-empire? Yet, here we are, desperately chasing phantoms in the dark!”
Emberwing was taken aback by this outburst, but did not relent, “We are warriors who grow stronger by confronting a challenge!”
“Then challenge your way of thinking as well,” The Torimor followed up with some critique, “Not only regarding the Humans, but also concerning all the ridiculous prejudices about my caste that are now holding us back.”
“I see, that’s quite the roundabout way to issue a challenge.” Emberwing now realized the Mizol’s true intention. She steeled her mind, shielded her thoughts, and then, stretched out her hand. “I’m ready.”
“This was never meant to be a challenge,” With the deeper connection that the touch enabled, she understood that Silvermist did not lie, “We must combine our efforts in order to overcome this trial.”
“What are you proposing, then?” Touching hands reminded Emberwing of her attempts to connect with the Humans, and she couldn’t seal that thought quickly enough.
“Interesting, I guess that hand-holding with a male must’ve been a pleasant enough prospect for you to engage in it with utter disregard for safety.” The Torimor grinned, “But doing it with a fellow warrior, for the benefit of the Union, was out of the question due to some silly caste rivalry?”
“Perhaps they were more trustworthy than a scheming Mizol,” Emberwing also remembered her second attempt to connect with the Tactician, and used it to change the topic, “As I’ve tried to link with Ellen Jardin, there was a slight reaction, something akin to humming, very faint and almost imperceptible.”
“Thank you for entrusting this very important information to me,” replied the Torimor with slight sarcasm, “It is nothing definitive, but I could try and convince them to attempt it with me. After all, I’m far better trained in this regard, including telepathy testing.”
“I already understood what your goal is, so let’s get this over with.” acknowledged Emberwing. The Mizol guided her through quite a number of measurements. At first, they completed the standard ones that she remembered from her aptitude evaluation, then switched over to a sequence of very elaborate and lengthy tests. The most noteworthy part was that despite her initial concerns, the Ambassador did not attempt to probe deeper or at least, there was nothing that she could detect.
Finally, Silvermist let go of her hand, “You have my gratitude for allowing me to verify your abilities. While all parameters have increased significantly, they are also highly unstable and fluctuate wildly.”
Emberwing already expected this, “Yes, initially, I did not understand why the Paset was so startled, for example. Is this perhaps related to stress or psychical trauma?”
“We’d need to consult an expert to be sure, but as far as I was able to see, it is way beyond such mundane explanations.” The senior Mizol was impressed, “Even I couldn’t properly measure your upper limits that a few spikes hinted at. If this is somehow related to the Humans, then an alliance becomes a far more significant matter than mere technology exchange. Unfortunately, right now we need to apply it all to the Shell issue and leave the scientific investigation for later.”
“I’m ready to try out the amplifier again, maybe I can even spot the hidden fleets now?” There was a certain undertone in the Mizol’s sending that alluded to a far more pessimistic outlook and it prompted Emberwing to offer her help. Or was this a trick? “How bad are our chances?”
“Normally, you weren’t supposed to read me this deep, but the other way round, and no, it was not a Mizol trick either.” Silvermist smiled faintly, “Our chances at stopping this incursion on our own are indeed not very good. Still, Tazites Duskcrown is sure that we can at least stall them until reinforcements arrive. The ability to spot the Shells in advance could shift the odds in our favor, but we won’t attempt anything overly reckless.”
“Why not, I already died once.” replied Emberwing with a rather dark joke.
Silvermist shook her head, “I do not question your courage, but we can’t replace you in the case something happens. Right now, it is not even clear what your newfound talents can do, why they appeared, or how to replicate them. Until this is investigated, we shall pursue a less risky path. Besides, both your psyche and your abilities are still too unstable.”
While eager to provide assistance, Emberwing was also intelligent enough to understand the Mizol’s reasoning. Her state of mind was indeed rapidly shifting between various extremes, so adding more stress on top of that could lead to a breakdown that she managed to avoid until now. “It is certainly prudent to make the best use of every warrior's abilities. So, what is the next step?”
“To continue with amplification without being too hasty, of course. Once the experimental amplifier is completed, we will see which one is best suited to adapt to the Humans or to you. However, even experienced farseers need at least half a day of rest between sessions, and the apprentices up to four if they over-strain themselves.” The Torimor emphasized the last part.
“I understand, we need to balance speed against endurance,” It would be an unfortunate setback if she were forced to abstain from the experiments for a while, thought Emberwing, “Do we have enough time?”
Silvermist pulled out her tablet, “No changes to the overall situation were reported, which means that the gatecrasher force will invade Leido in about half a day. According to our predictions, they will blockade all jump points, and then ram their main force to Enedd and further towards the interior. Tazites Duskcrown has amassed the main fleet and most of the remaining strike groups there, while the mobilized reserve fleet should arrive soon. Faced with this threat, the Enemy would be forced to engage in a prolonged fight, and this should give us enough time until more reinforcements arrive.”
“This depends on whether it is a suicidal deep strike mission like the Peze incursion, or a more serious attack, maybe on multiple fronts as well,” Emberwing realized once again how dependent the Loroi were on their farsight, “But since we can’t see them, it is impossible to tell.”
“Which means that our endeavor is crucial for the war effort as well,” Silvermist went through some entries on her device, “The scientific department has come up with a new approach, and they want you to test it as quickly as possible.”
“On me, I presume,” Emberwing stood up, "Fine, let’s go, then”
“Let us proceed to the medbay,” On the way there, the Torimor explained, “The standard test parameters were apparently not specific enough, and they have built a dedicated scanner.”
More scans, realized Emberwing, an inevitable, but annoying procedure, “Is there anything that the medical scanner cannot pick up?”
“The Listel shall explain it,” answered Silvermist. They stepped out of the lift capsule, and entered the medbay, where Disis Willpower and Tozet Beryl were already awaiting them.
Still languid due to the overexertion, Emberwing followed the farseer’s advice and remained on her seat, “I could complete the first and second step, but the last one eluded me, unfortunately.”
“That is intentional,” answered Eight Eye with a subtle smile, “Farseer candidates are shown their limitations, and are taught the value of moderation.”
“Yes, I got carried away,” acknowledged Emberwing, “Balancing the amplification was extremely difficult, it wasn’t even possible to look past this compound, not to mention into the secondary amplifier.”
“No, you should’ve been able to see at least that far, some particularly talented, but equally careless candidates even manage to have an interstellar experience before they pass out due to sensory overload,” The Bistima appeared intrigued, “Yet at the same time, you managed to react to the amplifier despite not being a farseer, what a curious combination.”
It seemed like she wasn’t good enough for this experiment, “So what am I even doing in here?”
“Don’t be discouraged, this is a unique opportunity to learn how farsight works,” assured her Eight Eye, “So far, nobody was able to acquire this normally inborn ability, so it stands to reason that something extraordinary must’ve happened, but also that its expression might be unique as well. Even your response to the amplifier had an echo that I’ve never heard before, this needs to be investigated in detail. Perhaps we should attempt to tune the amplifier to this pattern.”
“We are not going to repurpose the primary amplifier for experiments.” The Torimor was not as enthusiastic, “While it is of course very fascinating, time is of utmost importance. First and foremost, the Union needs a method to spot the husks. This new development has at least doubled the amount of theories without providing any concrete answers. We need to exclude as many hypotheses as possible, before trying to verify the rest through experiments. Give me a quick update about whatever you were working on.”
“My initial assumption was disproved,” The counselor explained how the dreams were unaffected by distance, “The Humans are either powerful enough to broadcast a complete dream sequence over that range, or Torret Emberwing was somehow enabled to have a two-way connection with them.”
“Concentrate on finding out if such an occurrence is recorded in the archives, I’ll send you an assistant and the necessary clearance codes.” Silvermist turned to the Doranzer, “Disis Willpower, have you analyzed the scan data?”
“This is my preliminary evaluation,” The Medic handed her a small tablet that she retrieved from a pocket, “Maybe the increase in sensitivity is tied to her brain chemistry. Two scans have shown different results, and some neurotransmitter levels display a rather strange behavior. I’m no expert regarding the farseer drugs, but I think that they affect those values in particular?”
“I’ll forward both data sets to the scientific department with a higher priority, continue working with them,” The Mizol Torimor transferred the results to her device and then returned it, “Parat Midnight, what of the Humans and the secondary amplifier?”
“The other farseers and technicians are still trying to tune it to their specifications, but there are yet no definitive results. After going through the standard calibration steps without much success, they are now devising a way to alter the whole aperture to find a new approach.” answered the other Mizol and shook her head, “It is as if our amplification patterns are completely unsuitable for the aliens.”
“They are also no longer suitable for spotting the Shells, so we’d need a completely new approach anyway,” Silvermist tapped her chin, “This gives me an idea, construct a rudimentary amplifier out of spare parts for the sake of experiments. It should be faster than rebuilding an existing one, and also far easier to reconfigure. Then, we can run two parallel experiments without compromising the main amplifier or involving other ships.”
“I’ll relay that order, it won’t take long,” Parat Midnight nodded, “The citadel should have a significant stockpile of the necessary materials.”
The Torimor turned to Eight Eye, “Since you want to investigate the amplification patterns, include the data about the Human propulsion system as well.”
“The strange melody that the ship produced was not nearly similar enough,” Emberwing shared her memory of that sprint, “The amplifier tune simply made me recall it.”
“Actually, this might be not a coincidence, a number of theories postulate that telepathy utilizes hyperspace in some unknown capacity,” The farseer was genuinely interested in it, “I shall review those as well.”
“Good, then let’s get to work!” sent Silvermist in a command tone before addressing Emberwing in a more polite way, “I would like to discuss the matter with you in private.”
“I accept your invitation,” she agreed with this condition, and stood up, "Lead on.”
“Of course, let us talk in the adjacent training room, it should be remote enough to be secure from interference,” Silvermist smiled, and led her to a separate chamber, “While you are certainly right that I cannot issue you any commands, I’d like for us to cooperate with each other on this important issue.”
“I and my clan are loyal to the Emperor, Mizol Torimor,” Emberwing injected a tiny bit of sarcasm into her sending, the Azerein was after all also a Mizol, but one who could command all Loroi, “What is your suggestion?”
“It seems that Stillstorm’s ways have already influenced you,” acknowledged Silvermist with an equal measure of sarcasm, “I would like to test your mental capabilities in greater detail. We do not have a proper specialist here, but my skills should be up to the task.”
The idea of the necessary deep link with a Mizol was simply outrageous, “I’d like to refuse that.”
“Despite our less than stellar reputation, we Mizol are the sentinels of the Union, and have the best interests of all Loroi at heart.” The Torimor spoke with utmost conviction, “Your newfound abilities are truly mysterious, yet also highly inconsistent and fluctuating. For example, I’ve tried to whisper to you multiple times, to no avail. Then, you also couldn't hear the orders I’ve covertly sent to Parat Midnight, could you?”
“The meaning of best interests is often highly subjective.” retorted Emberwing. The Mizol was likely to try and lure her into whatever scheme she was concocting, yet curiosity got the best of her, “So what did you whisper to me or to Midnight?”
“I’ve ordered her to investigate the amplifier shards that we recovered from the Shell wreck, perhaps they could give us an idea about the correct amplification patterns.” said Silvermist, then added in a less official tone, “As to what I tried to say to you, it was a question regarding the Humans. We need to analyze every small detail of what they’ve said and done.”
“Do you have the ability for thought transfer?” wondered Emberwing, “I might have an eidetic memory, but without the Listel training, scrutinizing it all will take too much time.”
The Torimor explained, “Unfortunately, only Listel of the Chronicler rank are instructed in this technique, and such valuable personnel won’t be stationed here at the front lines. We Mizol employ something different, geared towards single, specific memories, and I doubt that you would trust any of us enough to allow for lengthy rummaging. Therefore, we have to rely on your innate abilities. Please tell me of anything about the Humans that could help us.”
“I’ve already told it all to Parat Tempo, as well as several others, and written numerous reports on it.” Did she overlook something, just like that melody? “The Humans are also highly secretive with any important information.”
“Currently, we need clues about their abilities, especially farsight, and whether they did something to you.” It seemed like even the senior Mizol was at her wit’s end.
“Then, let us concentrate on my medical treatment first, could the Human technology have changed something in my brain?” Emberwing was still somewhat sceptical about being healed by unknown alien technology, what if it had changed her somehow?
“This was one of the first points that we investigated,” answered the Torimor, “All scans showed that you are in best health, even the minor deviations weren’t worth mentioning until you displayed a reaction to the amplifier.”
“It is good to know that I’ve been promoted from lab miros to farseer apprentice,” She was irritated about her strange position in this Human contact group, and at the same time glad to finally be of any help regarding the Shell threat, “We have exchanged medical data with the Humans, did it provide any additional information about their medical technology?”
“Not nearly enough, only the barest necessity regarding potential pathogens,” replied Silvermist, and assured her, “Also, you were never a test subject. Was there anything unusual about the treatment?”
“I simply woke up being fully healed,” Emberwing recalled her awakening in the Human medbay and the initial shock, “The medbay was so similar to ours, that at first, I even assumed being rescued by my own. Then, after seeing a completely psi-inert, but almost identical individual, for a heartbeat I thought that I was among the Voiceless Ones instead.”
“That ancient legend?” Silvermist raised an eyebrow, “I suppose this was not too far-fetched, given their utter silence.”
Emberwing couldn’t be completely sure if this was meant to be condescending or not, “I also overheard Parat Midnight calling the Humans melor, so this reaction might be quite natural.”
“Melor? The undying? That stupid girl has absolutely no idea what this expression even means.” scoffed Silvermist. “Perrein has simply too many archaic superstitions, which the young ones love to misinterpret at their leisure and call that adherence to traditions.”
“There might be some truth in that expression,” Emberwing recalled the point that Zarjow had once brought up, “The Human Operative has speculated that a psi-inert being could be interpreted as the opposite to a living one, an undead, and this concept may have been preserved in the legends. As to its origins, while one possibility might be an android or a personality construct, the other is?”
“I suppose you traditionalists still know the old stories,” Silvermist interrupted her, “If you mean that ancient legend of immortality, then yes, some Perrein versions of the dishonored ones could be interpreted as being vaguely reminiscent of the Humans. But since there are far too many conflicting and wildly varying interpretations, it won’t help us in any way.”
“Moving on, then,” Emberwing simply shrugged, “However, this leads to the next point of interest. Since the Humans couldn’t sense me either, they feared that I was brain-dead, and attempted some psionic techniques of their own to revive me. That didn’t work, and they gave up, but maybe it accomplished something?”
The Torimor listened to her explanation very attentively, “A combined sending that is normally intended to unlock their psionic potential? Of course, you mentioned that in a report. Unfortunately, there’s no way to verify what it did or even ask them about that in an inconspicuous manner, so I didn’t prioritize this issue. Seeing how you developed new abilities, it could be considered a major lead, and I shall analyze this matter in detail.”
“But we Loroi already are telepathic, there’s nothing to unlock!” disagreed Emberwing. “I meant that it could’ve established some sort of connection.”
“Since we can’t spot the Shells or read an alien species, our telepathy might as well need a booster,” Silvermist frowned, “Do not let any perfunctory ideas of Loroi superiority shroud your reason. The only overly detailed information package that the Humans have shared with us contains their theories about our relationship, and the facts presented there are very convincing.”
“This is nothing but propaganda!” The younger Loroi objected vehemently, “We, the true Soia, are far older than those upstarts!”
“It is precisely this arrogance that made us blind and deaf to the Umiak threat, just ask your clan matron if you do not believe me.” Silvermist’s sending leaked a fair share of annoyance, “We cannot allow for that mistake to occur ever again. Those upstart Humans have already overtaken the Union in some fields, so what does it say about us? How can we, the true Soia, struggle to defeat some scavenging vermin and their slave-empire? Yet, here we are, desperately chasing phantoms in the dark!”
Emberwing was taken aback by this outburst, but did not relent, “We are warriors who grow stronger by confronting a challenge!”
“Then challenge your way of thinking as well,” The Torimor followed up with some critique, “Not only regarding the Humans, but also concerning all the ridiculous prejudices about my caste that are now holding us back.”
“I see, that’s quite the roundabout way to issue a challenge.” Emberwing now realized the Mizol’s true intention. She steeled her mind, shielded her thoughts, and then, stretched out her hand. “I’m ready.”
“This was never meant to be a challenge,” With the deeper connection that the touch enabled, she understood that Silvermist did not lie, “We must combine our efforts in order to overcome this trial.”
“What are you proposing, then?” Touching hands reminded Emberwing of her attempts to connect with the Humans, and she couldn’t seal that thought quickly enough.
“Interesting, I guess that hand-holding with a male must’ve been a pleasant enough prospect for you to engage in it with utter disregard for safety.” The Torimor grinned, “But doing it with a fellow warrior, for the benefit of the Union, was out of the question due to some silly caste rivalry?”
“Perhaps they were more trustworthy than a scheming Mizol,” Emberwing also remembered her second attempt to connect with the Tactician, and used it to change the topic, “As I’ve tried to link with Ellen Jardin, there was a slight reaction, something akin to humming, very faint and almost imperceptible.”
“Thank you for entrusting this very important information to me,” replied the Torimor with slight sarcasm, “It is nothing definitive, but I could try and convince them to attempt it with me. After all, I’m far better trained in this regard, including telepathy testing.”
“I already understood what your goal is, so let’s get this over with.” acknowledged Emberwing. The Mizol guided her through quite a number of measurements. At first, they completed the standard ones that she remembered from her aptitude evaluation, then switched over to a sequence of very elaborate and lengthy tests. The most noteworthy part was that despite her initial concerns, the Ambassador did not attempt to probe deeper or at least, there was nothing that she could detect.
Finally, Silvermist let go of her hand, “You have my gratitude for allowing me to verify your abilities. While all parameters have increased significantly, they are also highly unstable and fluctuate wildly.”
Emberwing already expected this, “Yes, initially, I did not understand why the Paset was so startled, for example. Is this perhaps related to stress or psychical trauma?”
“We’d need to consult an expert to be sure, but as far as I was able to see, it is way beyond such mundane explanations.” The senior Mizol was impressed, “Even I couldn’t properly measure your upper limits that a few spikes hinted at. If this is somehow related to the Humans, then an alliance becomes a far more significant matter than mere technology exchange. Unfortunately, right now we need to apply it all to the Shell issue and leave the scientific investigation for later.”
“I’m ready to try out the amplifier again, maybe I can even spot the hidden fleets now?” There was a certain undertone in the Mizol’s sending that alluded to a far more pessimistic outlook and it prompted Emberwing to offer her help. Or was this a trick? “How bad are our chances?”
“Normally, you weren’t supposed to read me this deep, but the other way round, and no, it was not a Mizol trick either.” Silvermist smiled faintly, “Our chances at stopping this incursion on our own are indeed not very good. Still, Tazites Duskcrown is sure that we can at least stall them until reinforcements arrive. The ability to spot the Shells in advance could shift the odds in our favor, but we won’t attempt anything overly reckless.”
“Why not, I already died once.” replied Emberwing with a rather dark joke.
Silvermist shook her head, “I do not question your courage, but we can’t replace you in the case something happens. Right now, it is not even clear what your newfound talents can do, why they appeared, or how to replicate them. Until this is investigated, we shall pursue a less risky path. Besides, both your psyche and your abilities are still too unstable.”
While eager to provide assistance, Emberwing was also intelligent enough to understand the Mizol’s reasoning. Her state of mind was indeed rapidly shifting between various extremes, so adding more stress on top of that could lead to a breakdown that she managed to avoid until now. “It is certainly prudent to make the best use of every warrior's abilities. So, what is the next step?”
“To continue with amplification without being too hasty, of course. Once the experimental amplifier is completed, we will see which one is best suited to adapt to the Humans or to you. However, even experienced farseers need at least half a day of rest between sessions, and the apprentices up to four if they over-strain themselves.” The Torimor emphasized the last part.
“I understand, we need to balance speed against endurance,” It would be an unfortunate setback if she were forced to abstain from the experiments for a while, thought Emberwing, “Do we have enough time?”
Silvermist pulled out her tablet, “No changes to the overall situation were reported, which means that the gatecrasher force will invade Leido in about half a day. According to our predictions, they will blockade all jump points, and then ram their main force to Enedd and further towards the interior. Tazites Duskcrown has amassed the main fleet and most of the remaining strike groups there, while the mobilized reserve fleet should arrive soon. Faced with this threat, the Enemy would be forced to engage in a prolonged fight, and this should give us enough time until more reinforcements arrive.”
“This depends on whether it is a suicidal deep strike mission like the Peze incursion, or a more serious attack, maybe on multiple fronts as well,” Emberwing realized once again how dependent the Loroi were on their farsight, “But since we can’t see them, it is impossible to tell.”
“Which means that our endeavor is crucial for the war effort as well,” Silvermist went through some entries on her device, “The scientific department has come up with a new approach, and they want you to test it as quickly as possible.”
“On me, I presume,” Emberwing stood up, "Fine, let’s go, then”
“Let us proceed to the medbay,” On the way there, the Torimor explained, “The standard test parameters were apparently not specific enough, and they have built a dedicated scanner.”
More scans, realized Emberwing, an inevitable, but annoying procedure, “Is there anything that the medical scanner cannot pick up?”
“The Listel shall explain it,” answered Silvermist. They stepped out of the lift capsule, and entered the medbay, where Disis Willpower and Tozet Beryl were already awaiting them.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread ONLY
Chapter XXVI: Disturbance
Beryl greeted her cordially, but then switched to a more official tone, “We have devised a scanner to monitor your brain in a continuous manner. Since its activity and, most importantly, the neurotransmitter levels seem to fluctuate, it should provide us with the necessary information. Could you wear this aperture when you sleep or attempt to use the amplifier?”
Emberwing received the strange contraption that resembled a mix of a golden individual amplifier and a silvery hair net. “Wearing it in my sleep?”
“Yes, we want to verify if there are any anomalies when you see those strange dreams.” The Listel’s enthusiasm leaked from underneath her professional demeanor, “Our primary theory is that your brain has learned to replicate the effects of perception-enchanting drugs. This could explain how you can connect with the Humans despite the distance, or react to the amplifier.”
“It looks very fancy,” Disis Willpower chuckled, “A crown for the clan princess.”
“I’m far from being anywhere near important enough,” Emberwing sighed, her standing in the clan wasn’t very high, or why would she be stationed in that utterly insignificant strike group?
“You are very important for this experiment,” exclaimed Beryl, but then she realized what intention she transmitted, and added, “I mean for the war effort.”
“Don’t worry, let us assume that this is a weapon instead,” proposed Emberwing, “Do I have to sleep here or must it be connected to any other devices?”
“It is optimized to be barely noticeable when you wear it!” boasted the Listel, “All information is stored, so you can sleep in your cabin and come back to the medbay in the morning.”
Emberwing looked at the clock, “If I want to abide by the usual sleep schedule, then it is almost time to do so.”
“Then let us conclude for today,” acknowledged Silvermist, and then addressed Beryl, “Bring me up to date regarding your group’s progress.”
Meanwhile, Emberwing went back to her cabin. She took a bath, sorted out the clothing from the bag, and finally, went to sleep with that strange device on her head. For the first time, she was not afraid of a possible nightmare, but instead, eager to help investigate the matter, and also a bit curious.
The dreamworld, however, did not want to cooperate. It returned her to an early childhood memory, half-forgotten despite the eidetic memory and buried deep beneath layers of regret. She was cited to discuss her recently articulated wish to be a Listel with her mother, who dismissed it instantly. Not only was this against clan tradition, such a future wouldn’t make the best use of her abilities, she argued. The Listel were a support caste, tasked with remembering and analyzing what the warriors accomplished. While it was certainly an honored and important task, such a bright child like her would be severely constrained by this caste’s specialization.
She was of course flattered, her child-self still unable to realize that not all sanzai was completely truthful. Out of curiosity, rather than disobedience, she asked about the reason for the clan traditions. Her mother then retold an old legend about how the Honored Warriors would be immortalized by the clan’s collective memory, whereas the Dishonored Ones were punished by erasing their deeds and names. Stripped of their essence and even sanzai, their shades would be damned to walk the eternal twilight alone and in utter silence. After scaring her, who just recently learned to utilize sanzai properly, with the prospect of such a cruel punishment, her mother then explained what honor meant.
The Starsword clan was forged by Warrior Vengeance with her martial deeds while atoning for a weakness that led to the destruction of her previous clan. Therefore, they all had to honor this tradition through strength and perseverance, which is why the clan survived to this day. Every subsequent generation had to do their part as ordered by the honored ancestors, otherwise, who would remember them if the clan was no more? As everything else in the life of a true Loroi warrior, preserving the clan’s legacy was also a constant battle against each other and even dalid itself. Could she really disappoint the countless generations of her predecessors, damning them to become the Voiceless Ones? Would she turn into the weak link that snapped, thrusting her family into oblivion like Vengeance’s previous clan?
Emberwing woke up with the alarm. This was certainly no memory which she’d liked to recall. After that disturbing story, she had recurrent nightmares for almost half a year, terrible dreams of the dead haunting her and lamenting her weakness. Once she grew up, however, this experience evolved into a distaste for the legends instead. Even the traditions became something that she just abided by because it was expected of her. The memory of that incident had waned, but now, surfaced at the worst possible time, since this stupid dream wasted an opportunity to learn more about her abilities. Frustrated, she removed the headpiece, fixed her hair, dressed herself and exited the cabin.
Arriving in the Promenade, Emberwing tried to test her abilities as she ordered some food. Now that she was conscious about it, her sensing range indeed appeared to be greater than before, but she had trouble reading anyone’s surface thoughts, that occurrence with the Paset must’ve been a fluke. According to the conversations, a short while ago a courier had brought the news of the Shell forces jumping into Leido, and this spread like a wave throughout the entire station. Now, this was the topic number one, and spurred on by that development, Emberwing quickly left for the medbay.
There, Disis Willpower, Tozet Beryl and also Parat Midnight awaited her in the back room. She gave the device to the Listel, “Unfortunately, my dream was a common one. Just some silly childhood memories, probably triggered by the talk about the melor yesterday.”
“Even then, it can give us some insight,” Beryl pressed a button on the contraption, and it beeped, “Data transferred. Wait, why would a child even think of the undead?”
The Doranzer recognized what she meant, “Ah yes, that scary story about the dishonored ancestors? Fortunately enough, my mother left all that clan nonsense behind her when she departed for Maia, so I was spared from this indoctrination.”
“You are of the same clan? What kind of stories do you mean?” Beryl appeared intrigued.
“The Legend of Immortality, or one of its Deinar versions,” answered the Mizol in her stead, “and I’m the culprit, the Torimor already reprimanded me for calling our dear guests melor, but also for being careless with a covert sending.”
“Why would you call the Humans melor, is that an insult?” The Listel flared up, “What kind of ridiculous superstitions are you spouting? What if this description spreads! You Mizol are supposed to be diplomats!”
“This reaction might be not that far off. When I woke up in the Human medbay, a similar thought had crossed my mind for a moment.” Emberwing tried to calm her down by explaining it, “That legend did devolve into superstition, but its roots could’ve been based on facts. A psi-inert being is a rather strange concept, perhaps even frightening, given how far the post-Fall Loroi regressed.”
“The computer needs some time to interpret the data.” Beryl listened to her theory while working on the console, “I haven’t looked at that legend from this angle, but it sounds like a coincidence born from deliberate distortions.”
“The Deinar one sounds tame, the Perrein versions are far more bizarre,” Midnight smirked, “We had quite the penchant for inventing strange religions, and worshiped many ridiculous things, the sun, the jungle, Soia artifacts, or even holes in the swamplands that made weird noises. In fact, one of the most feared cults venerated those evil spirits.”
“Worshiping the Dishonored?” Emberwing was astonished, “I always thought that it was meant to be a tool to scare the young into obedience.”
“Exactly, but it backfired on the elders once they piled up too many nonsensical attributes upon the Voiceless Ones, turning them into the terrible melor.” answered Midnight in a mystifying tone, “Rebellious young constructed a secret cult that aimed at joining them in life in order to gain their mystical powers, chiefly the ability to be undetectable. They spread through the underworld of multiple city-states, before being violently crushed. Yet, cabals continued to pop up, claiming that true devotees could attain immortality and all sorts of abilities in exchange for sacrifices. Only the horrors of the World War extinguished this one, as well as other stupid cults, once and for all.”
“Enough of that, this is not the occasion for diral scary stories,” Disis Willpower pointed at her console, “The computer has finished analyzing the data. Apparently, shortly after you fell asleep, the neurotransmitter levels in question tried to climb up to the values that the first scan revealed. But then, they dropped off and returned to be barely above the norm.”
“So does this mean that I simply failed to establish a connection or to receive any dream fragments because of that brain chemistry issue?” There were some nights where she would see normal dreams instead, “Perhaps I should take the farsight drugs, then?”
“Absolutely not, it takes years to adapt to them!” The Doranzer shook her head vehemently, “Despite careful balance, it still shortens their lifespan considerably, and the smallest error can be deadly. Or worse. There were even rare cases of a psionic flare that crippled or killed everyone nearby.”
“You seem to know a lot about the topic despite claiming to not be an expert,” inquired Midnight.
"Well, I’m no expert in the sense that this position is usually held by a Mizol specialist,” answered the medic in a lighthearted tone, “But I do know of the drugs and their medical effects.”
“Then how can I control my abilities?” asked Emberwing, “We don’t have enough time to rely on mere chance.”
“The problem is that we still do not know why those levels fluctuate at all,” explained Willpower, “Normally, they are static, except for the farseers, and it takes a lot of effort to adjust the drugs individually. Especially since it is yet unknown what they actually do, therefore it’s still mostly trial-and-error. Perhaps you can train yourself to manipulate them? But first, we need to test the device inside an amplifier.”
“Then let us proceed to the auxiliary array,” proposed Midnight, “The Humans are currently trying out the experimental amplifier. I’ll message Bistima Eight Eye to meet us there.”
The elevator brought the group to the secondary farseer compound, and the Mizol led them inside. The amplifier there was just slightly smaller, but otherwise identical. Some tiles looked different from the rest, though, perhaps due to various efforts to modify them?
Soon enough, Eight Eye entered the chamber, “The technicians have restored this amplifier to its default configuration, at least for the most part. We can proceed with our experiments, and I’ve been told that you want to try out something?”
Beryl held up the sensor device, “We devised a scanner that can monitor the brain during the farsight experience. It could help us to understand how Torret Emberwing manages to react to the amplifier.”
“Certainly, it is a very interesting idea, although we Bistima employ a different approach,” agreed the Farseer, “Warrior Emberwing, are you ready?”
“Always,” answered Emberwing, and after donning the sensor cap, she took seat upon the less elaborate, but still impressive throne, “What program should I start with?”
“For now, simply try to tune yourself to the amplifier, then activate the second training program. I shall listen to the echo.”
With a whirring noise, the robotic arms lowered the tiles in place, assembling them into the amplifier bubble around her. Today, the tune was very quiet at first, thus it took some time to reach the desired intensity. Finally, she could submerge herself into the melody and start the farsight experiment by selecting the recommended program. The holographic display guided her through several steps, and she tried to adjust her sensing attempts to an ever-increasing range. What puzzled her, however, was why the session must be guided by the machinery instead of a telepathic link, or was there a catch as well? The last step allowed her to encompass the entire station within her sight, and she tried to spot the Humans. Unfortunately, it failed again, so she ended the lesson.
The bubble separated, and Eight Eye, who was now alone, addressed her, “Today, the amplifier echo was much smoother, you are adapting very fast.”
“Yes, I had no problems with surveying the citadel, but I couldn’t sense the Humans.” Emberwing was not discouraged, though, “Perhaps it’s the telepaths that are yet impossible to sense, so how about trying to look into their ship?”
“Only if you are absolutely sure that it won’t over-strain your mind,” The Bistima sounded worried, “You may try, but please, expand your range very carefully. Primarily, this is meant to collect data, it doesn’t matter if you succeed or not. I shall stop the attempt if I sense that something is wrong.”
“Of course,” Emberwing reactivated the amplifier and synchronized with its song, now faster than before. The entire station that the holo-projector displayed around her was dotted with tiny motes of light. The several thousand telepathic signatures twinkled, as if dancing in tune with the melody. Slowly, she spread her sight further, through the massive hull into space. Out there, even more lights formed small constellations. She reconfigured the display, and the holographic machinery overlaid a tactical map, guiding her through this fantastic experience. She could see the docked Barsam courier, and that shining star should be one of the smaller stations that guarded the main citadel. The huge, utterly black Human ship that kept its distance was not lit up with any signatures, however.
Why couldn’t she sense them, or the other way round? Both could read all other aliens, so even if the frequency theory was true, then their ranges shouldn’t be far apart. Additionally, she did receive some of their dream fragments in her sleep, so a connection was not outright impossible. Perhaps it was just a matter of time until her mind could adapt to the alien patterns. She zoomed in and kept staring at the Charon for a while, until its image was suddenly distorted with something akin to a ripple. Startled, she was thrown out of her trance.
“What happened?!” The Bistima’s tone was almost a shocked one, “The amplifier made a very strange noise, its tune was interrupted with a yelp. Are you all right?”
Emberwing did not feel any discomfort, “I am fine, merely startled. The Human ship just twitched all of a sudden.”
“Did the holo-projector malfunction?” Eight Eye was perplexed about this disturbance, “I’ll ask the technicians to have a look at it later. For now, this should be enough experimenting, let us analyze the data instead.”
That would be for the best, agreed Emberwing, and deactivated the amplifier. The farseer guided her to a small intelligence room, where the rest of the team was busy working on their consoles. She pulled off the sensor aperture and handed it over to Beryl, “I couldn’t sense the Humans, but we should have more data now.”
The Listel initiated the data transfer on it, “The possibility of a sudden breakthrough with nothing but sheer willpower is highly improbable. Proper scientific work needs time and patience.”
“With the Shell incursion, a wondrous breakthrough would be highly welcome,” interjected Midnight in a somewhat glum tone, “The situation is certainly disastrous…”
“Let’s solve one disaster at a time,” Disis Willpower interrupted her, pulled out a comb, and pointed it at Emberwing’s messy hair, “May I?”
“Yes, you have my gratitude,” She sat down to allow her to comb them, “Speaking of disasters, while I was trying to focus on the Human ship, apparently there was a malfunction and its projection trembled, which disrupted my concentration.”
“That’s far too specific for an error, and ships cannot twitch,” Midnight turned away from her console, “Maybe this was not a physical phenomenon, but you actually saw a psionic reaction instead? What did you even do?”
“I just tried to sense them, nothing else,” Emberwing was startled, could the Humans have felt this attempt and interpreted it as a hostile action? “Were there any transmissions from the ship, or did the Humans in the experimental amplifier say something?”
“No hails from the ship as of yet. Torimor Silvermist should be with them right now, I’ll contact her,” The Parat’s sending turned cold, “It’s even worse, they've said that the bulk of the Shell fleet suddenly changed course to the Azimol jump point!”
“That is certainly an impressive resolution,” acknowledged Eight Eye, “But where is our confirmation? Leido is shielded against farsight ever since the Enemy invaded it.”
“If it is true, then a courier should arrive any time now,” Midnight stared at her screen, “We are not very far away from the Leido jump point, so we’ll know soon enough.”
“But I’ve been told that the Shells would advance towards Enedd instead? Otherwise, the Humans will be in danger!” Beryl sounded worried, but then calmed down quickly enough and inquired, “Does it mean that you sensed their farsight or a long-range telepathic message?”
“I’d rather advise you to worry about ourselves, with nothing but the citadel and a single division here, we won’t even last a tozon!” stated Midnight in a serious tone, “The Torimor wants everyone except for the Bistima to come together, the Soshret in command of the system will issue the necessary orders.”
Leaving the Farseer behind, they rushed to the elevator. Once inside, Midnight looked at her tablet, “Course change confirmed through a courier. Twenty-four divisions inbound for Azimol. Estimated arrival here in 20.000 solon (5 hours), that’s barely enough time for an emergency evacuation.”
“Why the change in plans?” Emberwing quickly went through the possible scenarios, “Their main target is the interior, there’s no need to make a detour and waste so much time. Perhaps the Shells spotted the forces here and don’t want them to endanger their supply lines? Even then, why divert the main force, a few divisions should be enough to siege the citadel.”
“Farseening Shells?” The Mizol shook her head, “While this sounds ridiculous, it might explain the sudden loss of so many strike groups and all the ambushes. The commander should have better tactical data anyway.”
The lift capsule opened to reveal Torimor Silvermist with a Teidar guard. The Ambassador ushered them into a conference room where both Jardins sat at the table, so they took seats as well and faced the wall-sized screen.
Beryl greeted her cordially, but then switched to a more official tone, “We have devised a scanner to monitor your brain in a continuous manner. Since its activity and, most importantly, the neurotransmitter levels seem to fluctuate, it should provide us with the necessary information. Could you wear this aperture when you sleep or attempt to use the amplifier?”
Emberwing received the strange contraption that resembled a mix of a golden individual amplifier and a silvery hair net. “Wearing it in my sleep?”
“Yes, we want to verify if there are any anomalies when you see those strange dreams.” The Listel’s enthusiasm leaked from underneath her professional demeanor, “Our primary theory is that your brain has learned to replicate the effects of perception-enchanting drugs. This could explain how you can connect with the Humans despite the distance, or react to the amplifier.”
“It looks very fancy,” Disis Willpower chuckled, “A crown for the clan princess.”
“I’m far from being anywhere near important enough,” Emberwing sighed, her standing in the clan wasn’t very high, or why would she be stationed in that utterly insignificant strike group?
“You are very important for this experiment,” exclaimed Beryl, but then she realized what intention she transmitted, and added, “I mean for the war effort.”
“Don’t worry, let us assume that this is a weapon instead,” proposed Emberwing, “Do I have to sleep here or must it be connected to any other devices?”
“It is optimized to be barely noticeable when you wear it!” boasted the Listel, “All information is stored, so you can sleep in your cabin and come back to the medbay in the morning.”
Emberwing looked at the clock, “If I want to abide by the usual sleep schedule, then it is almost time to do so.”
“Then let us conclude for today,” acknowledged Silvermist, and then addressed Beryl, “Bring me up to date regarding your group’s progress.”
Meanwhile, Emberwing went back to her cabin. She took a bath, sorted out the clothing from the bag, and finally, went to sleep with that strange device on her head. For the first time, she was not afraid of a possible nightmare, but instead, eager to help investigate the matter, and also a bit curious.
The dreamworld, however, did not want to cooperate. It returned her to an early childhood memory, half-forgotten despite the eidetic memory and buried deep beneath layers of regret. She was cited to discuss her recently articulated wish to be a Listel with her mother, who dismissed it instantly. Not only was this against clan tradition, such a future wouldn’t make the best use of her abilities, she argued. The Listel were a support caste, tasked with remembering and analyzing what the warriors accomplished. While it was certainly an honored and important task, such a bright child like her would be severely constrained by this caste’s specialization.
She was of course flattered, her child-self still unable to realize that not all sanzai was completely truthful. Out of curiosity, rather than disobedience, she asked about the reason for the clan traditions. Her mother then retold an old legend about how the Honored Warriors would be immortalized by the clan’s collective memory, whereas the Dishonored Ones were punished by erasing their deeds and names. Stripped of their essence and even sanzai, their shades would be damned to walk the eternal twilight alone and in utter silence. After scaring her, who just recently learned to utilize sanzai properly, with the prospect of such a cruel punishment, her mother then explained what honor meant.
The Starsword clan was forged by Warrior Vengeance with her martial deeds while atoning for a weakness that led to the destruction of her previous clan. Therefore, they all had to honor this tradition through strength and perseverance, which is why the clan survived to this day. Every subsequent generation had to do their part as ordered by the honored ancestors, otherwise, who would remember them if the clan was no more? As everything else in the life of a true Loroi warrior, preserving the clan’s legacy was also a constant battle against each other and even dalid itself. Could she really disappoint the countless generations of her predecessors, damning them to become the Voiceless Ones? Would she turn into the weak link that snapped, thrusting her family into oblivion like Vengeance’s previous clan?
Emberwing woke up with the alarm. This was certainly no memory which she’d liked to recall. After that disturbing story, she had recurrent nightmares for almost half a year, terrible dreams of the dead haunting her and lamenting her weakness. Once she grew up, however, this experience evolved into a distaste for the legends instead. Even the traditions became something that she just abided by because it was expected of her. The memory of that incident had waned, but now, surfaced at the worst possible time, since this stupid dream wasted an opportunity to learn more about her abilities. Frustrated, she removed the headpiece, fixed her hair, dressed herself and exited the cabin.
Arriving in the Promenade, Emberwing tried to test her abilities as she ordered some food. Now that she was conscious about it, her sensing range indeed appeared to be greater than before, but she had trouble reading anyone’s surface thoughts, that occurrence with the Paset must’ve been a fluke. According to the conversations, a short while ago a courier had brought the news of the Shell forces jumping into Leido, and this spread like a wave throughout the entire station. Now, this was the topic number one, and spurred on by that development, Emberwing quickly left for the medbay.
There, Disis Willpower, Tozet Beryl and also Parat Midnight awaited her in the back room. She gave the device to the Listel, “Unfortunately, my dream was a common one. Just some silly childhood memories, probably triggered by the talk about the melor yesterday.”
“Even then, it can give us some insight,” Beryl pressed a button on the contraption, and it beeped, “Data transferred. Wait, why would a child even think of the undead?”
The Doranzer recognized what she meant, “Ah yes, that scary story about the dishonored ancestors? Fortunately enough, my mother left all that clan nonsense behind her when she departed for Maia, so I was spared from this indoctrination.”
“You are of the same clan? What kind of stories do you mean?” Beryl appeared intrigued.
“The Legend of Immortality, or one of its Deinar versions,” answered the Mizol in her stead, “and I’m the culprit, the Torimor already reprimanded me for calling our dear guests melor, but also for being careless with a covert sending.”
“Why would you call the Humans melor, is that an insult?” The Listel flared up, “What kind of ridiculous superstitions are you spouting? What if this description spreads! You Mizol are supposed to be diplomats!”
“This reaction might be not that far off. When I woke up in the Human medbay, a similar thought had crossed my mind for a moment.” Emberwing tried to calm her down by explaining it, “That legend did devolve into superstition, but its roots could’ve been based on facts. A psi-inert being is a rather strange concept, perhaps even frightening, given how far the post-Fall Loroi regressed.”
“The computer needs some time to interpret the data.” Beryl listened to her theory while working on the console, “I haven’t looked at that legend from this angle, but it sounds like a coincidence born from deliberate distortions.”
“The Deinar one sounds tame, the Perrein versions are far more bizarre,” Midnight smirked, “We had quite the penchant for inventing strange religions, and worshiped many ridiculous things, the sun, the jungle, Soia artifacts, or even holes in the swamplands that made weird noises. In fact, one of the most feared cults venerated those evil spirits.”
“Worshiping the Dishonored?” Emberwing was astonished, “I always thought that it was meant to be a tool to scare the young into obedience.”
“Exactly, but it backfired on the elders once they piled up too many nonsensical attributes upon the Voiceless Ones, turning them into the terrible melor.” answered Midnight in a mystifying tone, “Rebellious young constructed a secret cult that aimed at joining them in life in order to gain their mystical powers, chiefly the ability to be undetectable. They spread through the underworld of multiple city-states, before being violently crushed. Yet, cabals continued to pop up, claiming that true devotees could attain immortality and all sorts of abilities in exchange for sacrifices. Only the horrors of the World War extinguished this one, as well as other stupid cults, once and for all.”
“Enough of that, this is not the occasion for diral scary stories,” Disis Willpower pointed at her console, “The computer has finished analyzing the data. Apparently, shortly after you fell asleep, the neurotransmitter levels in question tried to climb up to the values that the first scan revealed. But then, they dropped off and returned to be barely above the norm.”
“So does this mean that I simply failed to establish a connection or to receive any dream fragments because of that brain chemistry issue?” There were some nights where she would see normal dreams instead, “Perhaps I should take the farsight drugs, then?”
“Absolutely not, it takes years to adapt to them!” The Doranzer shook her head vehemently, “Despite careful balance, it still shortens their lifespan considerably, and the smallest error can be deadly. Or worse. There were even rare cases of a psionic flare that crippled or killed everyone nearby.”
“You seem to know a lot about the topic despite claiming to not be an expert,” inquired Midnight.
"Well, I’m no expert in the sense that this position is usually held by a Mizol specialist,” answered the medic in a lighthearted tone, “But I do know of the drugs and their medical effects.”
“Then how can I control my abilities?” asked Emberwing, “We don’t have enough time to rely on mere chance.”
“The problem is that we still do not know why those levels fluctuate at all,” explained Willpower, “Normally, they are static, except for the farseers, and it takes a lot of effort to adjust the drugs individually. Especially since it is yet unknown what they actually do, therefore it’s still mostly trial-and-error. Perhaps you can train yourself to manipulate them? But first, we need to test the device inside an amplifier.”
“Then let us proceed to the auxiliary array,” proposed Midnight, “The Humans are currently trying out the experimental amplifier. I’ll message Bistima Eight Eye to meet us there.”
The elevator brought the group to the secondary farseer compound, and the Mizol led them inside. The amplifier there was just slightly smaller, but otherwise identical. Some tiles looked different from the rest, though, perhaps due to various efforts to modify them?
Soon enough, Eight Eye entered the chamber, “The technicians have restored this amplifier to its default configuration, at least for the most part. We can proceed with our experiments, and I’ve been told that you want to try out something?”
Beryl held up the sensor device, “We devised a scanner that can monitor the brain during the farsight experience. It could help us to understand how Torret Emberwing manages to react to the amplifier.”
“Certainly, it is a very interesting idea, although we Bistima employ a different approach,” agreed the Farseer, “Warrior Emberwing, are you ready?”
“Always,” answered Emberwing, and after donning the sensor cap, she took seat upon the less elaborate, but still impressive throne, “What program should I start with?”
“For now, simply try to tune yourself to the amplifier, then activate the second training program. I shall listen to the echo.”
With a whirring noise, the robotic arms lowered the tiles in place, assembling them into the amplifier bubble around her. Today, the tune was very quiet at first, thus it took some time to reach the desired intensity. Finally, she could submerge herself into the melody and start the farsight experiment by selecting the recommended program. The holographic display guided her through several steps, and she tried to adjust her sensing attempts to an ever-increasing range. What puzzled her, however, was why the session must be guided by the machinery instead of a telepathic link, or was there a catch as well? The last step allowed her to encompass the entire station within her sight, and she tried to spot the Humans. Unfortunately, it failed again, so she ended the lesson.
The bubble separated, and Eight Eye, who was now alone, addressed her, “Today, the amplifier echo was much smoother, you are adapting very fast.”
“Yes, I had no problems with surveying the citadel, but I couldn’t sense the Humans.” Emberwing was not discouraged, though, “Perhaps it’s the telepaths that are yet impossible to sense, so how about trying to look into their ship?”
“Only if you are absolutely sure that it won’t over-strain your mind,” The Bistima sounded worried, “You may try, but please, expand your range very carefully. Primarily, this is meant to collect data, it doesn’t matter if you succeed or not. I shall stop the attempt if I sense that something is wrong.”
“Of course,” Emberwing reactivated the amplifier and synchronized with its song, now faster than before. The entire station that the holo-projector displayed around her was dotted with tiny motes of light. The several thousand telepathic signatures twinkled, as if dancing in tune with the melody. Slowly, she spread her sight further, through the massive hull into space. Out there, even more lights formed small constellations. She reconfigured the display, and the holographic machinery overlaid a tactical map, guiding her through this fantastic experience. She could see the docked Barsam courier, and that shining star should be one of the smaller stations that guarded the main citadel. The huge, utterly black Human ship that kept its distance was not lit up with any signatures, however.
Why couldn’t she sense them, or the other way round? Both could read all other aliens, so even if the frequency theory was true, then their ranges shouldn’t be far apart. Additionally, she did receive some of their dream fragments in her sleep, so a connection was not outright impossible. Perhaps it was just a matter of time until her mind could adapt to the alien patterns. She zoomed in and kept staring at the Charon for a while, until its image was suddenly distorted with something akin to a ripple. Startled, she was thrown out of her trance.
“What happened?!” The Bistima’s tone was almost a shocked one, “The amplifier made a very strange noise, its tune was interrupted with a yelp. Are you all right?”
Emberwing did not feel any discomfort, “I am fine, merely startled. The Human ship just twitched all of a sudden.”
“Did the holo-projector malfunction?” Eight Eye was perplexed about this disturbance, “I’ll ask the technicians to have a look at it later. For now, this should be enough experimenting, let us analyze the data instead.”
That would be for the best, agreed Emberwing, and deactivated the amplifier. The farseer guided her to a small intelligence room, where the rest of the team was busy working on their consoles. She pulled off the sensor aperture and handed it over to Beryl, “I couldn’t sense the Humans, but we should have more data now.”
The Listel initiated the data transfer on it, “The possibility of a sudden breakthrough with nothing but sheer willpower is highly improbable. Proper scientific work needs time and patience.”
“With the Shell incursion, a wondrous breakthrough would be highly welcome,” interjected Midnight in a somewhat glum tone, “The situation is certainly disastrous…”
“Let’s solve one disaster at a time,” Disis Willpower interrupted her, pulled out a comb, and pointed it at Emberwing’s messy hair, “May I?”
“Yes, you have my gratitude,” She sat down to allow her to comb them, “Speaking of disasters, while I was trying to focus on the Human ship, apparently there was a malfunction and its projection trembled, which disrupted my concentration.”
“That’s far too specific for an error, and ships cannot twitch,” Midnight turned away from her console, “Maybe this was not a physical phenomenon, but you actually saw a psionic reaction instead? What did you even do?”
“I just tried to sense them, nothing else,” Emberwing was startled, could the Humans have felt this attempt and interpreted it as a hostile action? “Were there any transmissions from the ship, or did the Humans in the experimental amplifier say something?”
“No hails from the ship as of yet. Torimor Silvermist should be with them right now, I’ll contact her,” The Parat’s sending turned cold, “It’s even worse, they've said that the bulk of the Shell fleet suddenly changed course to the Azimol jump point!”
“That is certainly an impressive resolution,” acknowledged Eight Eye, “But where is our confirmation? Leido is shielded against farsight ever since the Enemy invaded it.”
“If it is true, then a courier should arrive any time now,” Midnight stared at her screen, “We are not very far away from the Leido jump point, so we’ll know soon enough.”
“But I’ve been told that the Shells would advance towards Enedd instead? Otherwise, the Humans will be in danger!” Beryl sounded worried, but then calmed down quickly enough and inquired, “Does it mean that you sensed their farsight or a long-range telepathic message?”
“I’d rather advise you to worry about ourselves, with nothing but the citadel and a single division here, we won’t even last a tozon!” stated Midnight in a serious tone, “The Torimor wants everyone except for the Bistima to come together, the Soshret in command of the system will issue the necessary orders.”
Leaving the Farseer behind, they rushed to the elevator. Once inside, Midnight looked at her tablet, “Course change confirmed through a courier. Twenty-four divisions inbound for Azimol. Estimated arrival here in 20.000 solon (5 hours), that’s barely enough time for an emergency evacuation.”
“Why the change in plans?” Emberwing quickly went through the possible scenarios, “Their main target is the interior, there’s no need to make a detour and waste so much time. Perhaps the Shells spotted the forces here and don’t want them to endanger their supply lines? Even then, why divert the main force, a few divisions should be enough to siege the citadel.”
“Farseening Shells?” The Mizol shook her head, “While this sounds ridiculous, it might explain the sudden loss of so many strike groups and all the ambushes. The commander should have better tactical data anyway.”
The lift capsule opened to reveal Torimor Silvermist with a Teidar guard. The Ambassador ushered them into a conference room where both Jardins sat at the table, so they took seats as well and faced the wall-sized screen.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself
Re: [Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread
Intermission M: The coming tide
Deep within the modest and unassuming flagship, the utterly alien device was humming silently. Instead of producing an actual sound, the impossibly-shaped contraption seemed to warp the very space around itself. Those intangible waves caused the complex machinery that powered it to pulse in accordance with the strange tune as well, twisting ordinary perception into sickening shapes, and adding a weird double-vision effect to everything in sight. The ripples danced, wrapping around themselves, collapsing into nothingness and then appearing again from random angles. This chaotic movement produced nothing but cascades of electromagnetic interference patterns, yet finally, the information contained therein was decoded and put to use. Despite the utility value, merely gazing at the anomaly for a while made his carapace crawl with illogical revulsion. Fortunately, an implant transmission requested his immediate presence, so Ixitixil-Kittikik-tikkikal-16 left this deck for the device’s control room.
What the system could do, among other things, was to confuse the far-sensors of the accursed Enemy. A coincidental, but highly valuable side effect and one of the centerpieces of this campaign to end the prolonged war. As he entered the huge chamber, the crew made sure to click the exalted greeting sequence in perfect unison, so he proclaimed his selfless determination to carry the burden of command in turn. With the formalities over, the chief technician reported the most recent findings.
The device managed to pick up the faint echo of a massive hyperspace transit event in the system known as Enedd, which meant that the second Khalkha armada arrived just in time. Immediately, he ordered his fleet to enact the next stage of the contingency plan. They could now obliterate the enemy HQ in Azimol first, then join up with the other fleet and destroy the main Enemy force. The two divisions heading for Gora should be enough to capture and hold it until additional ships arrived, while the mop-up and garrisoning operations here in Leido would be delegated to the secondary forces inbound from Sala-101. Their unorthodox commander, while quite promising, certainly needed additional experience before being given more important tasks. With this, no enemy raiders could possibly interfere with the invasion’s crucial supply lines.
After receiving the confirmation that all orders were carried out, he inquired about the team’s findings regarding the Darlock vessel. Apparently, the device did not properly react to its jump, which could explain why the ship had remained undetected. This led to the conclusion that the hyperspace drive it employed must be highly efficient, thus staying under the sensitivity threshold. More interesting were the changes to the device’s patterns during the sudden high-speed sprint. Based on the preliminary analysis of the acquired data, the ship must’ve engaged several jump field generators at once, most probably using them as a means of propulsion. The ship defied all previously known limitations as it accelerated to 25,174 percent lightspeed instantly, then stopped just as sudden to immediately initiate an outbound jump, without the usual power-up time.
A system to employ hyperspace engines as normalspace drives, and the energy necessary to power a number of them simultaneously, this was certainly enough proof that they were a highly advanced species. However, this, or any other warship, did not have any xeno-scientists or diplomats on board, which seriously impeded the study of the aliens beyond superficial technological analysis. Nothing about their goals was known, just some vague statements about a general policy of non-interference. Furthermore, the cryptic warning about a different race or faction that held an opposing view added an unwelcome variable into his plans. After going through the probability calculations once more, he decided that a single ship could not impede the Hierarchy’s current strategy in any meaningful way, no matter how advanced it could be. Even if the aliens somehow warned the Enemy about the invasion, thus spoiling the surprise attack, then it would still change nothing about the expected outcome. He thanked the engineers for their relentless dedication, and left for his flagstaff compound.
Deep within the modest and unassuming flagship, the utterly alien device was humming silently. Instead of producing an actual sound, the impossibly-shaped contraption seemed to warp the very space around itself. Those intangible waves caused the complex machinery that powered it to pulse in accordance with the strange tune as well, twisting ordinary perception into sickening shapes, and adding a weird double-vision effect to everything in sight. The ripples danced, wrapping around themselves, collapsing into nothingness and then appearing again from random angles. This chaotic movement produced nothing but cascades of electromagnetic interference patterns, yet finally, the information contained therein was decoded and put to use. Despite the utility value, merely gazing at the anomaly for a while made his carapace crawl with illogical revulsion. Fortunately, an implant transmission requested his immediate presence, so Ixitixil-Kittikik-tikkikal-16 left this deck for the device’s control room.
What the system could do, among other things, was to confuse the far-sensors of the accursed Enemy. A coincidental, but highly valuable side effect and one of the centerpieces of this campaign to end the prolonged war. As he entered the huge chamber, the crew made sure to click the exalted greeting sequence in perfect unison, so he proclaimed his selfless determination to carry the burden of command in turn. With the formalities over, the chief technician reported the most recent findings.
The device managed to pick up the faint echo of a massive hyperspace transit event in the system known as Enedd, which meant that the second Khalkha armada arrived just in time. Immediately, he ordered his fleet to enact the next stage of the contingency plan. They could now obliterate the enemy HQ in Azimol first, then join up with the other fleet and destroy the main Enemy force. The two divisions heading for Gora should be enough to capture and hold it until additional ships arrived, while the mop-up and garrisoning operations here in Leido would be delegated to the secondary forces inbound from Sala-101. Their unorthodox commander, while quite promising, certainly needed additional experience before being given more important tasks. With this, no enemy raiders could possibly interfere with the invasion’s crucial supply lines.
After receiving the confirmation that all orders were carried out, he inquired about the team’s findings regarding the Darlock vessel. Apparently, the device did not properly react to its jump, which could explain why the ship had remained undetected. This led to the conclusion that the hyperspace drive it employed must be highly efficient, thus staying under the sensitivity threshold. More interesting were the changes to the device’s patterns during the sudden high-speed sprint. Based on the preliminary analysis of the acquired data, the ship must’ve engaged several jump field generators at once, most probably using them as a means of propulsion. The ship defied all previously known limitations as it accelerated to 25,174 percent lightspeed instantly, then stopped just as sudden to immediately initiate an outbound jump, without the usual power-up time.
A system to employ hyperspace engines as normalspace drives, and the energy necessary to power a number of them simultaneously, this was certainly enough proof that they were a highly advanced species. However, this, or any other warship, did not have any xeno-scientists or diplomats on board, which seriously impeded the study of the aliens beyond superficial technological analysis. Nothing about their goals was known, just some vague statements about a general policy of non-interference. Furthermore, the cryptic warning about a different race or faction that held an opposing view added an unwelcome variable into his plans. After going through the probability calculations once more, he decided that a single ship could not impede the Hierarchy’s current strategy in any meaningful way, no matter how advanced it could be. Even if the aliens somehow warned the Enemy about the invasion, thus spoiling the surprise attack, then it would still change nothing about the expected outcome. He thanked the engineers for their relentless dedication, and left for his flagstaff compound.
My fanfic: A sword that wields itself