[Fan Fiction] Rellet Reimolad Roror (A sword that wields itself) Story Thread

[Cthulhu]

Rellet Reimolad Roror

A sword that wields itself or the literal Trade translation: self-wielding sword.

This is the story thread only. Do not post anything in this thread. The discussion thread is here.

This is mainly an exercise in writing in order to train my rusted literary and English skills. Also, it is done for fun. Please post your critique, remarks, questions or point out any errors you may find in the discussion thread. But not here in the story thread, it'll mess up the formatting.

Dialogue will be in "quotation marks", telepathy additionally in "cursive".

A short description, may be a slight spoiler, if you prefer to see how the story unfolds:

Synopsis:Show

A story reversal about a lone Loroi survivor being rescued by a more advanced Human scout ship. While uncomfortably similar to the Loroi on the outside, Humanity, with their resistance to telepathy, are an enigma on the inside. The Humans are now in the year 2294, with an advantage in technology, if not in numbers. Having followed a different development path, their society and culture are certainly unique. Upon learning of the brutal war from the Orgus, Humans sent a ship in order to investigate. Human telepathy is a recent discovery, and thus they see another telepathic species with millennia of experience as a fascinating object of study. Other goals may include an alliance, but the full extent of what the Humans are after will be revealed later...
Most of the world-building canon for the Loroi is preserved, but the Humans are obviously quite different as to what is shown in the comic. This is not a "Humanity, hell yeah!" nor a "Humans are Cthulhu" kind of story, since Mankind is not advanced enough yet. There won't be any "technology indistinguishable from magic", "Deus ex Machina", "Humanity to the rescue" or "our motives are beyond your understanding, mortal" kind of moments. There will be a few unexpected plot twists, however.

Any major changes will be listed here, except for error or formatting corrections. Last change: 15.12.

Changelog:Show

1. Replaced port and starboard with left and right. Since the Loroi are primarily left-handed, our nautical terms would make no sense. Numbering also starts from the left.
2. Changed the settings for long-range sending. As per lore, it would be unbearably "loud" for anyone in the vicinity, thus it is not something that is used casually. Also, since Farseers are specialized in detection, not sending, I've made it so that only a few of them are even capable of that.
3. Forgot the descriptions for the human uniforms. Nothing particularly fancy, navy-blue for officers, black for intelligence, white for the scientific department, high ranks have golden insignia.
4. Made clear how and when the Humans have "acquired" the Umiak wreckage. Alex got fed up with stumbling in the dark and decided to ask the Shells nicely, but with superior firepower.
5. Clarified the sequence of events in the last part of Chapter XIII. The ship decelerated with a stunt similar to the one that had accelerated it, then jumped into the next system, Rallis.
6. Overhauled and expanded Stillstorm's battle of wits with Alex in chapter XVI.
7. Adjusted the dialogue in chapter XXII, to clarify who's talking, as well as their ranks.

Some questions that could be answered in advance:

FAQ:Show

1. Why does character X have the Y trait, or what's up with the Z setting?
-- Most variables were chosen at random by trowing dice, sometimes from a list of possibilities, or from a combination of several points.
2. The writing style is inconsistent!
-- I'm exploring various approaches to writing and also experimenting with some styles. Or I'm too lazy or/and inexperienced...
3. That character diverges from what was shown in the comic.
-- I'll try to stick to canon, especially concerning world-building and characters, so if you think that I've diverged too much from the original, then let me know in the discussion thread.

Navigation:

Chapter list:Show

Chapter I: Ambush

Chapter II: Trap

Intermission A: The Watcher atop the Citadel

Chapter III: Flight

Chapter IV: Among the Dead

Intermission B: Upon the fields of sorrow

Chapter V: The Debate

Chapter VI: Legends

Intermission C: Fire and Fury

Chapter VII: Revelations

Chapter VIII: Contemplation

Intermission D: The Towers of Complacency

Chapter IX: Challenge

Chapter X: Deception

Intermission E: The Thing that should not be

Chapter XI: Preparations

Chapter XII: Dreams

Intermission F: At the crossroads of an era

Chapter XIII: Prelude

Chapter XIV: The Encounter

Intermission G: Outgrowing the Cradle

Chapter XV: By the sword

Chapter XVI: Diplomacy

Intermission H: The calm before the storm

Chapter XVII: The Rivalry

Chapter XVIII: The Mission

Intermission I: The beginning of the end

Chapter XIX: The Return

Chapter XX: Fun and Games

Intermission J: A Tale of fairies, magic and elves.

Chapter XXI: Feyfolk

Chapter XXII: The Report

Intermission K: A fleeting encounter.

Chapter XXIII: The Tune

Chapter XXIV: The Song

Intermission L: The phantom Lord

Chapter XXV: Evaluation

Chapter XXVI: Disturbance

Intermission M: The coming tide

Chapter XXVII: Evacuation

Chapter XXVIII: The Theater

Intermission N: Paranoia

Chapter XXIX: The Adversary

Chapter XXX: The Debacle

Intermission O: Interference

Chapter XXXI: Per aspera ad astra

Chapter XXXII: Another point of view

Intermission P: A sword unsheathed

Chapter XXXIII: Amplified trouble

Chapter XXXIV: Here be dragons

Intermission Q: Sword of Judgement

Chapter XXXV: A Warning

Chapter XXXVI: A Breakthrough

Intermission R: A Relief?

Chapter XXXVII: Terrors of old

Chapter XXXVIII: Of Heroes and Dragons

Intermission S: To cast a Hero

Chapter XXXIX: A conspiracy

Chapter XXXX: To look near and far

Intermission T: Hallowed Insight

Chapter XXXXI: A hidden gem

Chapter XXXXII: A clash of legends

Intermission U: For whom the bell tolls

Chapter XXXXIII: As history repeats itself

Chapter XXXXIV: Divine guidance

Intermission V: Shattered plans

Chapter XXXXV: The Departure

Chapter XXXXVI: A leap into the Unknown

Intermission W: By mere chance

Chapter XXXXVII: Déjà vu

Chapter XXXXVIII: To be, or to philosophy

Intermission X: A terrible countenance

Chapter XXXXIX: Pandemonium

Chapter XXXXX: Ring of Fire

Intermission Y: Political Games

Chapter XXXXXI: Cousins Reunited

Chapter XXXXXII: The Pitiful Quarry

Intermission Z: Good Omens, Bad Omens

Chapter XXXXXIII: A shining hope

Chapter XXXXXIIII: A civilized path

Chapter XXXXXV (could take a week, but probably two)

[Cthulhu]

Chapter I: Ambush

Soroin Mallas Emberwing was not having a good day, week, year or an eight-year (equivalent of a decade) for that matter. All that trouble that got her there, to this far off system, forsaken by spirits both good and bad, weighted on her mind. On top of that, for some strange reason, the damn husks began sending raiders here, not just to test their defenses, but most probably their patience. They kept chipping at both, occasionally claiming a ship, but it was never enough to break through. Besides, it would amount to little, since this unnamed system with little strategic value was still six jumps away from Leido. Even if the Shells wanted to use that long and roundabout path to sneak past their defenses with their newfound Lotai, it would be impossible to mount a surprise attack. First, they had to get past this Strike Group 25 and cross a couple of barren systems typical for the Wastelands, only to be spotted by the deep-space outpost guarding the remains of a fledgling mining colony abandoned early in the war. After that there would be a dim red giant with its weird gravity well and finally the fortified relay station of Rallis, just before Leido. Traversing all that without anyone being able to raise an alert, telepathic or otherwise, would need some sort of witchcraft, no less.


Then, was this whole farce just a distraction? Maybe there was something big going on, something to prove her worth, to avenge her fallen comrades, anything to break this mind-numbing stalemate? But those incursions kept her sisters strike group here, no, it wasn't truly hers, but Lashret Trueswords, her mentor, who died just two weeks ago, although it felt like a moment that lasted an eternity. With her gone, Torret Moonblade had to take command of the strike group as the highest ranked Torrai, or if you could call some frigates, a dozen destroyers and a couple of old cruisers a group. Even though command acknowledged her position, they should have sent a new group or at least some reinforcements with a proper command vessel and most importantly, a new Lashret. So far, they only got two of those stupid new destroyers stuffed with girls barely out of their dirals, not that she was much older anyway. Or was this rag-tag bunch of leftovers not good enough anymore, now being de-facto reduced to a mere picket force on the back end of Loroi space? Was that damn Stormwitch hogging all the good crews, ships and glory for herself? Her old rival was now dead, but maybe they somehow managed to inherit that ancient grudge?


Suddenly, her frantic line of runaway thoughts was interrupted by a telepathic equivalent of a smirk. She felt the hand of Moonblade touching her shoulder.

"Dear Sister" the Commander sent privately, "unless you want to duel that Witch, you should practice restraint".

Emberwing looked up, embarrassed that her thoughts leaked out, "Yes, I don't think I would win".

To which Moonblade replied, with one of those stupid sayings typical for their grandmother, to boot, "Not that anyone would approve of a cub challenging the alpha. Also, I've heard that disrespectful remark and unless you want to challenge me too, you should go to sleep. Your mind is locked into that typical overdrive of yours, you haven't slept for two shifts and before that, it was".

"Three, I know" interrupted Emberwing, slowly getting out of her chair and raising her arms in mock surrender.

"Challenging you for what, leadership? No, thanks, you can have that. You wear that armor well." was her parting sending laced with tired sarcasm before she disappeared down the corridor and into her cabin.

With the Stormwake gone, this cruiser was now the acting command vessel. While she seriously worried about its infamously poor protection and constantly overheating main guns, she was glad about the almost luxurious cabin. Today, however, she did not bother to take a shower, but quickly ate her cold, leftover meal, set the alarm, disrobed and simply fell onto her bed, falling asleep immediately.


The peace would not last long, however, as she was rudely woken up by a combat alarm. Jumping out of bed, she quickly dressed, only to be sent tumbling across the cabin without her left shoe by a sharp jolt of the entire ship. Grabbing the wayward piece of apparel, she stumbled to the door and slammed right into it, because the armored plate refused to open. No longer sleepy, rubbing her droning forehead and cursing the entire bloodline of the Gallen in charge of maintenance down to her 12th generation relatives past, present and future, Emberwing slammed on the opening button with the shoe she was still holding. The response, however, was a sequence of the door controls flashing red, repeating an ominous two-two pattern. Realizing that the corridor was depressurized, she quickly put the shoe on and took out the emergency equipment from the compartment by the door, transforming her armor into a light spacesuit. Tapping the controls one-one between the sequence, she opened the door and stepped into the corridor. Using the airflow of her cabin as acceleration, she ran towards the bridge, only to be gently stopped by an invisible wall.

"Teidar Sezon Swiftstrike" she sent flabbergasted, "why are you hindering me?"

"Because", came the composed response from her sister's honor guard, "the bridge is unavailable, please proceed to the flight control room".
Emberwing wanted to retort, only to realize what that truly meant.

"Exactly" sent Swiftstrike.

"But how, when, what, who?" Emberwing was now utterly flabbergasted.

"The enemy jumped 4 divisions right on top of us" came the laconic reply from the Teidar, who telekinetically pushed the confused Soroin Mallas towards the new bridge down the hallway, "a salvo hit us right away".

They went around a corner and passed a dead Nozotel sticking out of a warped bulkhead, before arriving at the heavy blast door to the control room. Emberwing quickly opened the automatically depressurized chamber, before plopping down on the central chair. The Teidar, meanwhile, sat down at the empty fire control station. Other stations were already manned by Listel Sininran Amber, a Paset she did not know, a Mizol Rizoiszit she recognized as one she recently lost a bet to and Soroin Seinen Emerald Wing.


The holo-screens showed a truly horrific sight, their fleeing group was facing about 4 enemy divisions, but fortunately spread over a wide area, mostly Type-K heavies with a few Type-Kh mixed in, which already launched their torpedoes. A single KK-type heavy was the closest enemy ship, did this one do a number on them? She saw Torrai Torret Silent Blade from the other cruiser on the central screen, who faced her now,
"Captain Emberwing, what is your situation?".

Following the procedures drilled into her and quickly processing the situation reports sent to her by the impromptu bridge crew, she replied:
"We lost the bridge on the third hit, sustained some damage to the screens and heatsinks, but we have full energy, engines and weapons."

She then looked up, puzzled, "Captain?"

Her Teidar interjected to that, "Yes, my Captain, your Sister was on the bridge when it was destroyed."

"But it wasn't even her shift?!" Emberwing shouted.

"No, she let you sleep for two. Now, focus on the task at hand!" came the reply sent with considerable pressure behind it.

Noticing her confusion, Silent Blade said:
"You did not know it yet..."

But Emberwing shook head energetically while mashing buttons on her console,
"No, no, but I cannot be distracted by that now. I am assuming command of the Union combat vessel Blazing Spear, your orders?"

Nodding to that Silent Blade replied:
"I have already issued all orders, but they are quite simple: we cannot hold them off or even make a dent in their forces, thus we shall retreat after we repel their missile salvo. We were fortunate enough to be able to quickly disengage from the arriving fleet and the husks will not be able to keep up with us right after a jump".

"Yes, that's the most appropriate course of action" replied Emberwing, sinking into her chair.


With the communication channel closing, silence reigned on the bridge. Everyone was concentrating on their respective roles, avoiding any kind of chatter and even suppressing the usual subtext in their sendings. Finally, the Teidar reported that the missile salvo was cleared up with merely superficial damage to the group, the Shells apparently firing just some of their torpedoes to force a stand-off. Not that they would engage them even without that, thought Emberwing. Was that perhaps an automated response just as their initial beam barrage? Poorly timed and uncoordinated, the crews still prone, their torpedo salvo was not able to score a similarly lucky hit as their guns. The small Loroi fleet was now accelerating towards the opposite end of the system, the Shell fleet still lagging behind, but quickly accelerating with apparent intention of hot pursuit. Somehow, this bothered Emberwing, but she was unable to pinpoint the exact reason for her weird feeling. How did the Shells manage to jump within weapons range, especially since they were quite a distance away from the jump zone, was that perhaps a miscalculation? A coincidence? Or was that done on purpose? She looked over the tactical display, the yellow dots representing the enemy were indeed spread out in two rough lumps over a wide area between their initial position and the jump zone. Their ships were now beginning to form the usual quincunx formations, the crews apparently waking up from the jump shock. Do the Umiak truly have even a single sloppy commander?

Parallel to this Emberwing was going through all the standard procedures, ordering additional crewsisters for her new bridge, looking though the detailed damage control reports and the list of casualties. Before reaching a certain name she never ever wanted to confirm despite having no other choice to, she was interrupted by a gentle telepathic nudge.

"I" sent Emerald Wing somewhat anxious "I'm..."

"Thanks" replied Emberwing, showing a pained expression "Thank you friend, but the grief has to wait."

Emerald Wing shook her head "I know, just rely on us, do not try to drown yourself in your tasks. See, the new crewsisters have arrived. Maybe we can pressurize the chamber now, this damn flight suit itches in unmentionable places."

Unfortunately the Listel at the sensor station interrupted her awkward attempt at a joke with a report given in a somewhat puzzled tone "A single jump signature, one of the Umiak ships jumped... back?"

"That doesn't make sense" wondered Emerald Wing "maybe they have thrown the incompetent commander out of the airlock and need to request a new one? What else would they even need to report, anyway?"

"No, this is even stranger then their previous behavior" wondered Emberwing in turn.

"Well, you certainly have the brains to figure it out, just don't lock up on that" answered Emerald Wing with a reassuring smile.

Emberwing went over the tactical display yet again. What was that outbound ship doing, was reporting their withdrawal truly necessary? Why would the Umiak ever perform such a sub-optimal jump into this system? Could they have developed some sort of artificial farsense to pinpoint their exact location from the next system? But even then, neither jumps nor farsense were precise enough for such a tactic to be even remotely viable. Still, she could not get rid of that foreboding.


Emberwing looked up, straightened herself out and sent to the Mizol at the comms in her best attempt at a command tone "Open a channel to the Commodore".

"Soroin Mallas Emberwing" said Silent Blade's holographic projection "what appears to be the problem?".

"Have you considered ordering a Farseer to send a message about this situation?" asked Emberwing.

"You want me to stun everyone with that kind of sending? There's nothing particularly exceptional to report anyway, except us being utterly under-strength. I'm sure they will send the appropriate reinforcements soon enough, if they see that Shell fleet." came the curt reply from the Commodore.

Emberwing shook her head: "No, I meant that this fleet may be invisible to them. It is also too big for their usual attrition attacks, too."

Silent Blade raised an eyebrow:
"After the loss of Stormwake we only have two Farseers who are strong enough for that left, both of them are already exhausted and you want to burden everyone with a sending over that distance? All crews will be prone and deaf after that!"

Both warriors kept staring at each other for a split second, Emberwing with a desperate look in her eyes, Silent Blade with a condescending one, followed by a weary sigh. "Fine, I shall trust Trueswords judgment."


With the channel cut, Emberwing sank into her chair, the strings supporting her apparently being cut, too.

"That was awesome!" send an excited Emerald Wing "to get her to agree to anything, you're awesome!".

"No, I'm just riding on our Lashrets honor. I hope its not paranoia, otherwise I would've sullied it for nothing" replied Emberwing wearily.

“Do you want to bet on the outcome? Or on who will recover first?” The Mizol asked in a sheepish tone.

“Don’t remind me of that, or I shall seize all desserts on board as my personal fuel reserve crucial for the war effort. I'll need them as remedy, anyway.” retorted Emberwing in a mockingly overbearing tone, before realizing that now, being the Captain, she could very well do it right away.

"That would not only be unfair, it could probably lead to a mutiny” answered the Mizol with exaggerated outrage, seemingly oblivious to the painful strings she managed to pull.

She then looked back at her console “A pity, we shall hear the outcome right now, the Commodore is calling back."


Emberwing nodded and Silent Blade appeared on the screen again, her expression now tense:
"I offer an excuse to Lashret Trueswords superior talent and your insight. All attempts to see anything outside of this system failed and thus we cannot be sure that the sending would be perceived by anyone. This Shell Lotai is apparently extending far beyond their fleet, jamming our Farseers. We shall try again in the next system, the chief Farseer on your ship should’ve finished her restorative meditation by then."

She looked to the left, then back at Emberwing again:
"I have sent orders to the frigates to get ahead to the jump point as quickly as possible and alert everyone. We shall reserve the sending as a last resort measure. What is the repair status of your ship?"

Emberwing looked at her console:
“The initial barrage aimed midships penetrated the hull before screens were fully deployed. The bridge and the reserve heatsink suffered heavy damage, the 2nd shield generator was overloaded and the main hallway was depressurized. So far we have restored the generator to 80% of its max capacity. The heatsink is a total loss, fortunately it was cold and the subsequent collateral damage after its breach was minimal. Efforts to patch the hull are underway, soon we will be able to re-pressurize most of the smaller compartments and the central corridor. The bridge is… no, this one will have to do for now. It would take too long to restore it, even longer until it can be pressurized again.”

Silent Blade nodded:
“These cruisers are truly swords made of fancy glass, sharp but shattering quickly if forced to block an unexpected strike. A foolish design, especially back then, unsuited to parry the heavy warhammer of the Umiak counterattack during Semoset.”

Her reminiscence was cut short by an alarm as her eyes darted to the right, just as the Listel at the sensor station actually spoke out loud into the bridge comms instead of sending: "Multiple jump signatures ahead! Must be a deep jump!"

"Confirming deep jump." said Silent Blade, furrowing her red brows at this worrisome development.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter II: Trap

With a series of jump flashes, 32 ships appeared on their flight path. Strangely enough, this group was consisting of Type-KS missile cruisers.

"That is truly a devious tactic" Emberwing realized," since the husks will be prone after a jump, they will simply let an overwhelming number of torpedoes stall us until the other group with the already lucid crews catches up."

“This amount of ordnance, multiplied by the fact that a deep jump would destroy about half their ships, is extremely costly" replied Silent Blade "what a folly to waste so many ships just to wipe out our meager group."

Emberwings brain was already in overdrive yet again: "Normally even the Umiak would try to avoid such losses, yes, but if they needed to wipe us out with absolute certainty, before we can warn anybody, then... but why..."

What followed was a telepathic shout powerful enough to cause even the Teidar to flinch. "NOOOOO, they're attempting a massive breakthrough and we are the backdoor to Leido!!"

Emberwing ranted as she slammed her fist on her chair's hand-rest:
"The attrition attacks on multiple theaters, their new Lotai, all that just to disperse our fleets and to mass their main forces for an all-out deep strike! And this is a possible backdoor we are guarding, they simply have to silence us before we can spoil their surprise attack!"

Silent Blade shook her head:
“There is not enough proof in order to assume something like a breakthrough. There were no reports from the Farseers or the forward strike groups on the Steppes front.”

“That’s the whole point, they are surely hiding their forces behind their Lotai!“, replied an agitated Emberwing.

“I did not say that I do not believe you.” Silent Blade raised her hand in order to stop the younger Captain, “During the Semoset Campaign the Shells also deceived our Farseers, hiding their forces using populated worlds.”
The older Captain showed an ugly smirk: “I was there, I know of their trickiness more than I would like.”
Shaking her head as if forcefully dispelling the specters of the past, she continued:
“Regardless of what this attack is truly about, our strategy will remain the same. We need to reach the next system with as many ships as possible, but with at least a single cruiser in order to warn High Command.”
Looking up, she began issuing orders to the Strike Group: “Recall the frigates and form a wedge, we will smash through anything they may launch at us.”


Meanwhile, the enemy ships were doing exactly that. Orienting themselves towards the approaching Loroi, they fired a swarm of heavy torpedoes. The Umiak, or rather their AIs, followed a rather standard tactic of two layers with plenty of maneuvering space in between. The long-range missiles were accelerating moderately, as if biding their time.

“That is the usual formation for a screen, I thought they would concentrate them in order to force us to evade.” sent Emerald Wing.

“Yes, it would make more sense to break up our group by forcing us into evasive maneuvers. The pursuing fleet is now accelerating, too.” replied Emberwing.

“I guess their AIs are not particularly clever, then?” wondered Emerald Wing.

“They are not, but the crews of the pursuing ships must have recovered by now.” replied Emberwing, before addressing the Commodore:
“We must increase our ECM jamming in order to prevent the first fleet from controlling the second as long as possible.”

“Good thinking, I was just about to order it” nodded Silent Blade, “but this screen is worrisome, it contains more missiles than those cruisers usually have. Our chances are not good, as we are low on AMM and fighter craft.”

“We only have 2 interceptors and a heavy fighter left, they are ready to launch any time.” replied Emberwing.

“I have 4 interceptors. We shall launch them now, we will need their point-defense capability.” ordered Silent Blade.

“Attention, wing leader Tenoin Arrir Lightsail, you have launch clearance. Assume point-defense positions around our formation.” spoke Emberwing into the intercom.

“I am your shield, captain.” came the reply from the fighter pilot.


“Prepare for combat! Let’s go through the readiness list one last time!” commanded Emberwing before focusing her attention on one of the new crewsisters she requested for the bridge: “What about the repairs, any good news?”

The Gallen Ranzadi Ivy Weave at the engineering station replied somewhat proud, “The 2nd shield generator is now restored to 90% output, but it will have reduced endurance.”

“Good”, She now faced forward, sending to everyone in an inspiring tone, “Let the battle begin!”

The Strike Group formed a broad arrowhead formation with the two escort destroyers as the tip, cruisers in the center and the other 10 destroyers shielding them from all sides. The 5 frigates were now staying slightly behind, ready to plug any holes the Umiak torpedoes might open up. The fighters assumed positions around the ships, with the lone heavy at the top.

The Umiak, or rather their AIs, already anticipated this rather obvious course of action. The missile cruisers were now maneuvering into a two-pronged formation, ready to batter the wedge from close-up with their medium guns as the Loroi would pass them. The bigger fleet behind them was meanwhile stretching into a chisel-like formation, the faster light cruisers overtaking the slower main battle line. Despite their best efforts, the Shell ships were slightly slower than the Loroi. Lagging behind, they did not deploy their remaining torpedoes or gunboats yet. Slowly increasing the distance to the pursuing fleet, the Loroi formation was forced to fly through the interdicting group in order to reach the jump zone.


Suddenly, the missile screen began to change, the torpedoes maneuvering into two gigantic, winged arrows targeting the Loroi from above and below.

"They are surely aiming for the cruisers, but that’s a tactical decision I never expected from the Shells’ computers", stated a baffled Emberwing “have they developed resistance to their jump-sickness now?”

She turned her attention to Listel Amber at the sensor station, “What is the range of our jamming fields and their strength? Compare it to the line of sight of both their initial torpedo screen and the pursuing fleet.”

The Listel ran the calculations on her console, before sending the answer in a grave tone, “The outer edges of that screen were also on the outer edges where our jamming fields would lose their intensity. A focused communication beam could have reached the outermost torpedoes.”

Emberwing turned to the Commodore on her screen:
“The enemy may use the torpedoes as comm relays, bypassing our jamming fields and sending orders to the cruisers in front of us.”

Silent Blade nodded, “A reasonable assumption, this is far too clever for their computers and the distance is still too great for laser comms.”

She squinted her eyes, looking at a different screen on her bridge, “Change of plans. You want to challenge me with two swords? I can wield two shields, husk.”

She began giving orders to the group:
“The attack destroyers are to split into two groups and form defensive screens against both salvos. The fighters and the frigates must intercept any shots coming though. The cruisers and the escort destroyers will charge right through the middle, I shall take the lead.”

“No, by my clan’s honor, I must take the lead and protect the commander!” protested Emberwing.

“Honor to your clan, warrior, but I must face my dalid by myself.”, replied Silent Blade with a genuine smile uncharacteristic for her, “Besides, your Farseer is rested, mine not.”


Accelerating, the Curved Knife-type destroyers assumed their new positions just in time. The torpedoes were now coming into range and the Loroi began firing their heavy blasters at the approaching threat.

“They do seem to be targeting the destroyers first. It would've been a problem if all ordnance went straight for the cruisers, but fortunately, they do not know which ships the farseers are on.” theorized Emberwing.

The experienced crews were holding the line admirably, shooting down targets with great accuracy. As if reacting to that, the missile cruisers, which were finally assembled in a half-moon formation, fired a second, albeit smaller volley of short-range torpedoes at the approaching 4 ships.

"Where did those new torpedoes come from", exclaimed Emberwing in anger, "the numbers do not add up at all?!"

"They were fired from the docked gunboats" replied Swiftstrike, “No, there are too many for that, the gunboats must be additional torpedo containers shaped like gunboats.”

Silent Blade was reacting to this development with cold, controlled fury, sending quick and precise orders to the whole group:
“Recall two destroyers from each group and have them, the frigates and the fighters engage the new threat. Reserve nothing and do not spare the machines! We cannot overcome this new salvo by ourselves.”

Two pairs of destroyers fanned out, firing broadsides at the approaching torpedoes. Then, retaining their acceleration, they turned around in dangerously sharp arks and engaged the new threat with everything they had, firing the AMMs they held in reserve. The five frigates and the fighters split up and joined the bigger ships in their attack.


The remaining long-range torpedoes, however, were having none of that. Maneuvering to evade the lines of fire, half of them accelerated towards the cruisers, which the Umiak now recognized as the prime targets.

“Those shells are rather crafty, hiding reserves, probing the value of our ships.” Silent Blade smiled viciously, “Begin firing the pulse cannons at the lowest power setting in bursts, we will overcome this challenge!”

Emberwing sent to Swiftstrike and Soroin Tiris Arrowmaster at the fire control stations “Target the incoming second salvo, keep power levels to a minimum, the guns must last through this encounter!”

Coming online, the heavy main caliber of the battle-cruisers began swatting the incoming targets with rapid fire from a long distance.

Emberwing turned to Ivy Weave at the technical console, “Watch the energy levels and especially the heatsinks, the pulse cannons are not designed for this kind of abuse.”

The specialist sent with disdain, the picture of a Historian in an impossible physical configuration flashing along with the sending for a split-second “Those tilted hand-me-downs are not designed for anything except overheating. We even have one less reserve heatsink.”
She then sent inquiringly, “Captain, do you care about them surviving?”

Emberwing answered impatiently, “Either we survive or they do, the choice is clear.”

“All right, it should give us some more wiggle room.” Ivy Weave began re-configuring the heat distribution.


After exhausting their AMMs, the remaining destroyers were now engaging the incoming torpedoes with their point-defenses. A flashy melee of red lasers crossing their beams with the blue streaks of the incoming torpedoes painted the picture of fencing duels in the starry sky. Even though the incoming strikes were simply too numerous to parry, the ships refused to evade, taking hit after hit to shield the cruisers.

The relief ships opened fire on the second salvo. Targeted from multiple angles, the number of the light torpedoes was dwindling rapidly. The two escort destroyers positioned themselves between the incoming attackers and the cruisers, firing their more numerous medium blasters without pause. But the group was now also targeted from different angles in turn.

The long-range torpedoes finally managed to overcome the desperate resistance. Weaving their way between the debris and the explosions, they were now closing in from above and below.

“Redistribute the fire sectors and have the incoming fire-support destroyers make a run against the heavy torpedoes after they pass us!” commanded Silent Blade.


To counter that, using their large fuel reserves, the torpedoes were now accelerating even more and managed to catch up to the defenders before that. Targeted from behind, the destroyers were now at a disadvantage. Unable to fire upon the torpedoes homing in onto the opposite group yet, they turned around in sharp arcs for a second time during this battle. For one of the destroyers in the top squadron, this proved to be too much. Either because of previous battle damage or due to overtaxing its machines, the ship spun out of control, trailing plasma, before disintegrating in multiple explosions. A frigate below was hit between the nacelles and foundered instantly.

The remaining units were now locked into two chaotic skirmishes against the rest of the torpedoes. The lower group managed to clear their sector, sustaining crippling damage to a destroyer in turn.

The upper group had far more trouble, the lone destroyer being quickly overwhelmed. Even with its loss, the three nimble frigates were resisting to the last and were annihilated only after shooting down most of the torpedoes.

“The upper squadron is gone, fire the remaining AMMs at the straggles coming from that vector! Keep firing the main guns at the second salvo!” commanded Silent Blade.

Emberwing looked at the status of the pulse cannons, “My weapons are almost at their limit.”

“Keep firing until they melt!” came the order of the Commodore.


Meanwhile, the second salvo was coming into range of the point-defenses of the main squadron just as they came in range of the Umiak cruisers. The sturdy Warhammer-class destroyers were now trying to shield the cruisers not only against torpedoes, but also from the plasma guns of the enemy formation.

“The Shells are opening fire!” sent the agitated pilot.
“Those shots are automated, I doubt they can hit you, my friend!” sent Emberwing in an encouraging tone.
“You praise is appreciated, but that’s a lot to dodge!” came the now less agitated reply.

“The enemy is concentrating fire on the leading cruiser! Singing Sword is taking hits!” sent the Listel in a worrying tone.

“Torret Silent Blade, please, let me take the lead!” pleaded Emberwing.

“No, the rest of our ships are here and they shall shield me.” replied the Commodore.

The two ships in question, having caught up, were now indeed trying to support the other destroyers in the task of shielding the lead cruiser. Unfortunately, the barrage of the remaining torpedoes from all sides and the plasma beams proved to be too intensive. A bright flash of light on the right side marked the end of the fire-support destroyer. On the left, the last frigate was cut in half and exploded. The ruined destroyer far behind them initiated self-destruct.

A lone heavy torpedo, having evaded both the AMMs and the laser fire, hit the leading ship from above. The cruiser shook visibly, but stayed on course. A salvo of plasma beams hit its right nacelle, most of them deflected, but some penetrating the thin armor, causing the engine to turn dark.

Silent Blade faced the young Captain, “Soroin Torret Emberwing, you are now in command of the 25th Strike Group. Do not interrupt me, my ship is losing acceleration, I won’t make it to the jump point ahead of the main Shell fleet. You have to get to the next system and warn the Union.”

“Yes, I won’t disappoint you!” assured Emberwing. "To all ships, we must clear a path through the enemy formation!"


The four ships, having finally cleared the torpedoes, were now half-way through the Umiak formation, which began targeting the leading Blazing Spear. The ship shook a couple of times, yet the screens were deflecting most hits. Concentrating their fire to open up a path though the enemy formation, the three forward Loroi ships dodged incoming beams with everything they had. This proved to be effective, the automated Shell ships were barely able to dodge.

"We are close to a breakthrough, fire all torpedoes on those four ships!" commanded Emberwing, marking the cruisers in the middle of the enemy formation.

Now firing their own torpedoes from the cruisers, they managed to open up a path. As if fearing the trap to fail, the Umiak now began closing in on intercepting vectors, trying to ram the escapees.

The cruiser Singing Sword, already beginning to lag behind, suddenly accelerated towards the Umiak lines. Drawing the enemy fire and sustaining numerous hits, the burning wreck still managed to ram an approaching Umiak cruiser, causing a huge explosion. Silence filled the bridge for a moment.

“Confirming the destruction of the command vessel.” Shortsword said in a stupor.


"Honor to Silent Blade, her sacrifice shall not be forgotten." Emberwing was sending in an almost proper command tone, comparable in strength to her sister’s, yet with a distinct, softer undertone, “I am now assuming command of the 25th Strike Group. Send to the ships, we are breaking through their formation!”

Yet, following the example of Silent Blade, the remaining two ships and the heavy fighter also accelerated far beyond their specifics. Ramming an Umiak cruiser each, they ultimately opened up a path in their converging formation, allowing the Blazing Spear to escape. Sustaining a few more hits on the left side, none of which managed to stop the ship, it was now finally outside the range of their guns. Having escaped the trap and speeding towards the jump point, the bridge crew cheered.

[Cthulhu]

Intermission A: The Watcher atop the Citadel

Elder Farseer Eight Eye lowered herself into the throne-like, elaborate amplifier. She closed her eyes and concentrated on its faint, rhythmic humming. Immersing her mind in the psionic melody, she synchronized with the powerful aperture. Now, opening her eyes, she looked at the star charts projected before her by holographic machinery, but she was also looking beyond them, through the massive hull of the citadel, through the constraints of the physical universe. Her perception expanded and new stars overlaid the holographic ones, except that those new lights were countless minds, shining in the darkness of the universe, forming new constellations.

The holotank followed the programmed routine of her shift, zooming in and out of the sectors she needed to survey. The warriors would never understand this transcendental feeling of unity with the universe, treating the farseers like additional sensors. Not that any of her kind would mind, their sense of duty and ancient oaths compelling them to aid their sisters. Especially since the enemy was now directly challenging their caste’s honor with this newfound Lotai trick of unknown origins.

Looking at one of the farthest constellations, she noticed that it became weaker yet again, most of the brighter stars typical for fellow farseers no longer there. The holotank provided her with the information that this Strike Group 25 suffered repeated casualties, even losing their command ship with its team of farseers. Suddenly, the whole system turned dark, as if a piece of thick cloth was pulled over the faint motes of light. She blinked in confusion, nearly dispelling the trance. In her long years of service she saw everything, life-signs burning out upon death, the horrific diffusion they suffered after a failed jump, even the fabled wisps of unknown origins, flickering on the far edges of farsight as if mocking her senses. This new phenomenon, however, left her with a feeling of dread and she immediately contacted her intelligence liaison.

“Mizol Parat Midnight, I have important information for you.” detecting the operative in her cabin, she sent with pinpoint accuracy.

“There must be something extraordinary going on for you to be so distraught.” even the experienced Mizol winced under the powerful sending, dropping her skillful Lotai.

“I’m sorry, but this matter must be brought to the attention of the Admiral immediately.” replied Eight Eye with but a faint whisper, now including the mental image of the incident.

“No need for excuses, I was merely sleeping, but thanks to that I’m wide awake right now.”, came the composed reply. “You mean that this is something neither you nor others of your caste know of? We Mizol also have no knowledge of such techniques. I shall go and inform the Admiral right away in person.”

The Farseer tried to continue her sweep, yet she was spellbound by this unnamed system. Was a natural phenomenon she never heard of responsible for that, something which caused the crews to die instantly? No, a far more plausible answer would be a new trick of the Hierarchy. Were they testing out an improved version of their jamming device? Or a new weapon capable of wiping out the entire group all at once? Either way, the strategic balance would certainly shift in their favor even more.

A message appeared before her, interrupting her speculations:
“Honored Farseer, the Admiral thanks you for your discovery and asks you to confirm the location of the 51st Strike Group.”
After reading the whole set of orders, the Farseer looked for the small fleet in question. They were on their way to Leido for a resupply run, merely a system away from the important Crossroads system. Of all the other groups, they would indeed be the closest one, thought Eight Eye, as she typed the reply for the adjutant.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter III: Flight

Immersing herself in the healing waves of her crew's cheering, Emberwing waited a moment for it to subside before returning them to duty with a powerful, clear sending befitting of her new rank: “Damage report! That last impact sounded quite bad!”

Ivy Weave at the engineering console was already compiling a list:
“They were primarily targeting the nacelles! On the left side, reactor at half output, several radiation leaks, the taimat tanks are damaged.”

“Order engineering to send an additional team in there to assess the damage and vent the fuel if necessary. Re-route power, we must maintain our acceleration. Right side?” asked Emberwing in a brisk tone.

“Reactor stable at 80%, minor radiation leaks, the whole section is depressurized, tank containment holding.” came the reply.

“Engines?” Emberwings sent to the pilot next.

“The right engine is still at full power, left side, battle damage to energy couplings, at 70% thrust and falling!” answered her friend.

“Have the engineering prioritize that as well. Maintain course and most importantly, acceleration!” sent Emberwing with emphasis on its urgency. “Other systems?”

Soroin Paset Riversand, who was the control room's original shift and now occupied the subsystem control station, sent quietly “Nothing as serious, my Captain. The 2nd screen generator was briefly overloaded but is being restored right now. The main heatsink arrays came close to saturation, the remaining reserve is relieving them.”

“Make the heatsinks the priority here.” replied Emberwing and turned to the sensor station: “Listel Amber, how long until the jump point and what about the pursuit?”

“5 hours and 15 minutes considering we maintain the current speed. We are ahead of the Umiak fleet and we will be able to jump undisturbed.” came the immediate answer.

“Good, I want you to keep an eye on the Umiak fleet and warn me if they manage to do anything that may endanger us.” Emberwing replied with relief. “Now to the weaponry.”

Swiftsure was as laconic as ever, “2 pulse cannons are gone, two are overheated, 4 point-defense turrets are online, one damaged, one overheated. No ordnance left. 2 fighters are following us and are requesting landing clearance”

Emberwing was puzzled at the definition in the sending: “What do you mean, gone?”


“Allow me to explain, Captain” sent Listel Amber at the sensor controls. She transferred a compiled video feed to the central holoprojector. It showed the cruiser as if viewed from outside, then zoomed in on the weaponry at the front. One of the long barrels of the main caliber was missing and the surrounding hull was charred black. The next emplacement was utterly destroyed, however. The plating was pushed aside and outwards to reveal the ravaged weapon mount underneath, silvery and golden splashes of metal were shining on the hull. Like a thunderstorm accompanying an erupting volcano, mighty energy discharges were coming out of the hull breach, turning gas leaks into flashes of plasma.

Mesmerized by the sight, Emberwing could only send a simple question, “How?”

The fire control officer Arrowmaster began wondering about it in an equally astonished tone, “Those early, over-sized pulse cannons are truly troublesome weapons under sustained fire. Instead of simply overheating like blasters, their firing chamber must also deal with ever-increasing pressure. But still, they should not explode like that, together with their subsystems!”

Gallen Ivy Weave interrupted her with a sending that sounded regretful: “I think that’s my fault. You said it’s either us or them and I relayed that to the gunners up there. They certainly managed to fire that cannon longer than the others, but I couldn’t have imagined this outcome!”

Arrowmaster replied with a reassuring sending, “It's not your fault and we managed to break through thanks to that feat, too.”

“It’s certainly impressive, but why did they not shut down the power?” sent Emberwing.

Ivy Weave looked at her console: “The capacitors and batteries there are unresponsive, it will take some time for them to discharge or for the Gallens to get through and disable them.”

Emberwing raised her hand: “No, as long as it does not endanger the ship, leave it be and concentrate on the generators and engines.”

She finally turned to the Mizol: “Coordinate the communication of the damage control teams and find new crewsisters for a relief shift. Also, let those fighters finally land.”

“Acknowledged” came the reply from the bridge crew, who began to reconfigure their stations in order to distribute the workload.


The Commodore looked at the tactical display on her console, which was showing the small star system they were in. As their lone marker was speeding towards their jump point, new enemy ships kept appearing at the opposing one. The Shell fleet was receiving reinforcements, new warships as well as freighters and tankers were jumping into the system. This was the final confirmation, if they were assembling a gate-crusher fleet here, others would be already on their way, too. She had to warn the Union, even if it would be the last thing she did. Even an additional moment spent on preparations could decide the outcome of the decisive battle. The Union would need to mobilize most, if not all of their reserves against the coming tide. She began compiling her report with utmost care, including the new torpedo tactics the Shells employed and her analysis thereof.

After a while her line of thoughts was interrupted by her friends gentle sending “I hate to interrupt your contemplation, but the engines are losing thrust, we need more energy.”

Snapping out of it, she asked “What about the team that went into the left nacelle?”

Ivy Weave replied with a tinge of worry, “They stabilized the reactor at 40%, but the tanks are not looking good. They are now transferring fuel into reserve tanks, before they can dump the rest.”

Emberwing sent in an impatient tone “Then have the right reactor compensate for the power loss.”

Ivy Weave went through the repair logs once more, “Good, it seems the reactor there had no major problems as it is back to 100% capacity. We can increase it to about 130% for a short while, even though that will be very inefficient, eating through our dwindling fuel reserves even faster.”

Emberwing was unperturbed, “We must get to the jump point ahead of the Shells, do it.”

“Certainly, there are also good news from the left nacelle, the reserve tanks are full and the damaged main ones are now being vented.” replied Ivy Weave in a tone now tinged with pity because of the lost fuel.

“That loss doesn’t matter if we blow up instead!” send Emerald Wing in a happy tone, “What matters is that I have enough power for the engines now!”


The Blazing Spear returned to her maximal acceleration. The cruiser, as seen in the holo-projector, was literally living up to its name, even though not as intended. Engines blazing, hull breaches spewing plasma and the left nacelle trailing a cloud of taimat fuel sparkling with microexplosions, it was truly a gigantic blazing spear rivaling the Semoset comet.

Shaking her head at the sight of this unwanted spectacle and disabling the projector, Emberwing went back to writing her report. She described the surprise attack, the deep-jump trap and the costly breakthrough. She hoped that her warning would be on time to recall the other Strike Groups in the Steppes, before they encountered the Khalkha divisions. After all, the Umiak would need awhile to get to Leido on this long, snaking path. It would make more sense to time the attack and launch it from multiple directions simultaneously, maybe even deep-jumping a few divisions to intercept the retreating forces like they did here.
She checked the status of the Farseer and her cabin, Calmest Waters was awake, her amplifier undamaged and its dedicated backup batteries fully loaded. She sent the report to her, the Farseer would need some time to prepare herself and to reconfigure the amplifier.

After that came the updated list of repairs: the 2nd screen generator was ready, the main hallway was finally patched up and ready to be pressurized, another of the point-defense lasers and a single pulse cannon were online. Soon, it would be time to switch out some tired bridge crew, two hours of rest would be perfect right now. Despite them being somewhat randomly assembled, they performed well as warriors as well as a unit. She thought that she simply had to promote them for their valor, if they were to survive somehow. Even for a field promotion, even for the Mizol, at least taking off the helmet during the ceremony should be the bare minimum. Her own last-minute promotion by Silent Blade was still weighting on her mind, not due to absence of all decorum, but for the heavy responsibility it symbolized.


Looking at Riversand, who was sitting at the opposite end of the projector, she sent “Pressurize the main hallway!”

After that, she wanted to tell the Mizol to order the new shift to come, but was stopped by Riversand: “I get strange readings here, various internal sensors and secondary systems are shutting down at random, but with no recognizable cause.”

Emberwing turned to the Gallen “Do you copy that?”

Ivy Weave replied with significant worry, “I’m not sure, there are no additional warnings coming in and those sections received no battle damage.”

“Get me the section chief.” replied Emberwing.

“Gallen Bastobar Coralshaper here“, the face of the Amenal Loroi was now even darker than usual thanks to the soot-covered visor. “If you want to know about the reactors, they won’t last long at this rate, but I will force them to work long enough. We would need quite some time to restore them to peak condition afterwards, though.”

Emberwing nodded, “Thank you for your efforts, but I wanted to inquire about the series of strange malfunctions.”

“We do get occasional radiation, as well as power spikes from both reactors, maybe it is related to that. I will look into it right...” The connection was drowned out in static.

Emberwing looked at Ivy Weave, “Is that radiation or whatever now affecting even the engineering, or why is the connection gone?”

The engineer appeared puzzled, “For it to affect the rugged sensors in there and in such a way? The radiation spikes would've been deadly enough to kill everyone from the nacelles to the arboretums almost instantly, long before that static showed up.”
She quickly went through various internal sensor readings, her sending barely suppressing graphic visualizations of various curses. “Even the power spikes shouldn’t have affected so many unrelated subsystems!”

“I guess there are exceptions to that and it wouldn’t be something I would want to hear?” asked Emberwing in a worried tone.

“Yes, no, uh-oh, OH NO!” came the reply combined with a vivid picture of a normally invisible leak of radiation escaping from the overcharged reactor in a tight, impossibly bright beam.

“WHAT BY THE DISHONOR OF THE CURSED ONES IS EVEN THAT?”, infected by the worry the Gallen was transmitting, Emberwing was unable to keep calm.

“We call that a shredding torch” answered Ivy Weave, frantically going through more sensor readings, “Damn those stupid security standards and the war-profiteering parasites who approved them. There’s not enough redundancy and too many sensor and network nodes are knocked out. I can’t get a clear picture of what the tilted field of overripe neutrinos is going on down there.”

Emberwing interrupted the raving Gallen “What. Is. A. Shredded. Torch?! And what is it doing to my ship?”

“Shredding torch and it’s doing exactly that, shredding the ship. If the reactor containment fields begin to malfunction in a very specific way, while the reactor is powered up above a certain threshold for too long, it may lead to...” Ivy Weave began explaining the problem.

“We don’t have the time for a lecture”, interrupted Emberwing.

“Right, the shortened version of the short version, then.”
The Gallen was still going through various settings on her console at an ever-increasing speed,
“It means the super-rare case of the containment having a tiny hole in a bad spot and the overcharged reactor is releasing radiation straight out of its core in a tight beam. That’s already pretty bad, but, it gets even worse.
Soon enough, it’s not only the whole EM spectrum, but positrons and then antiprotons flying through the barrel-like fault in the force-fields. If the nacelle gangways are pressurized, then it will look like a literal torch wherever the beam is passing through because of super-heated air, after that it’ll turn into a stream of plasma and finally something similar to a pulse cannon salvo caused by the antimatter particles hitting anything in their path.”

Emberwing was baffled at the very idea of an antimatter cannon, even more so of it going off inside her ship.


“It’s nasty, but at least it’s visible early on, even if all the sensors are blind somehow. You may be able to get off the ship just in time before it is blown to wherever the Soia went.” continued the Galen “But if there’s combat damage, the sensors get fried, then everything is depressurized? In the middle of us war-tinkers desperately trying to hold the ship together, it may go unnoticed until somebody walks through the beam and drops dead or if a wall starts glowing all of a sudden.
Ah-ha, got it, I found the damn beam, it goes through the depressurized parts here and exits over there, no wonder the remaining sensors did not pick it up with all the nodes it fried.”

“That’s good, no, it’s not good. But how long until it starts spitting antimatter? Or can we stop that? Repair it?” asked Emberwing.

“Repair it? No, the reactor core itself is a total loss at this point. Extinguishing the torch and safely shutting down the runaway reactor is tricky, newer ships have extra devices to find and seal those leaks right away, but not this over-glorified pressure cooker.”
The Gallen stopped typing on her console and turned around: “I have sent a warning to the engineering, although they should’ve noticed it by now. If it can be stopped, then they must succeed within ten minutes or so, if not, we will see the outcome in about fifteen.”


Emberwing turned to the left and addressed the Listel: “How long until we reach the jump zone? HOW LONG?”

The Listel remained still, until she was gently nudged by the Teidar with telekinesis and sent in a fatalistic tone “Considering distance, speed and necessary calculations, 3 hours, 10 minutes until we can jump.”

In order to calm down Emberwing concentrated, reciting and transmitting the ancient oath of her clan. “None will stand up to our swords, none shall overcome our resolve, none can shatter our will.” She then sent with considerable strength: “Continue with your tasks, we shall overcome this challenge.”

“How can you be this calm?” meanwhile, the Mizol was not calming down at all.

“Because she is a true warrior with more honor than your entire caste, fungus-brain!” answered Emerald Wing in her stead.

“Be careful not to fall overboard, pirating barbarian!” taunted Shortsword in turn.

Swiftsure gave the two bickering Loroi the telepathic equivalent of a slap: “Do not dishonor our commander with your silly infighting!” Both chastised warriors nodded. “You were given an order, execute it!”

“Thank you!”, sent Emberwing privately.

“I am your honor guard.” replied the Teidar in her usual laconic way.

Paset Riversand addressed the Captain in a meek tone: “The energy levels are fluctuating between the primary and secondary systems, my Commander.”

“Ha, they did it!” exclaimed Ivy Weave, pumping up her fist in the air. “That’s the first good sign from engineering. It’s a roundabout way to shut down the reactor, but it should work.”
She then began calculating: “With the other reactor at half-power now, if we employ the secondary reactors and hook up the weapon as well as the reserve batteries, we can retain most of our acceleration for those 3 hours. That’s good, considering that I wouldn’t want to play around with the remaining reactor after this radioactive stream of Barsam dung we had to wade across.”


A strange rumbling was transmitted through the chair and the soles of her boots. “What the tilted field was that? The reactors?” asked Emberwing.

“They can’t vibrate, can they?” sent Ivy Weave “But I’ll look into it right away!”

“I don’t know, too”, replied Emerald Wing, “the ship is shaking, but it’s not my fault, the engines are synchronized and running as smoothly as it gets!”

Riversand was intently staring at her console “the inertial dampeners are functioning normally! As well as the grav plating.”

“No enemy attack detected” replied Swiftstrike.

“Ivy Weave, report!” ordered Emberwing in a tense tone.

“IT’S COMING!”

She heard the telepathic outcry, saw something flying past her, felt a terrible impact, then there was nothing but darkness.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter IV: Among the Dead

Emberwing woke up to the alarm set for the new shift. She had to take a shower, get dressed and maybe eat something, before relieving her sister on the bridge. Trying to get out of the bed, however, caused her to feel violently sick. Opening her eyes, she saw not her familiar cabin, but the endless star field. Where was she?

Suppressing the sense of vertigo and nausea, she recalled everything, the breakthrough, the flight to the jump-point and then, the scream. What was incoming, the torch of the reactor failure? Her memory was fuzzy. But if the ship foundered, why was she still alive? Looking around, she realized that she was still sitting in her chair on the secondary bridge. Or at least what was left of it, because the other half was simply sheared off. Only hers, the furthermost seat was still there, the others gone, as well as the entire crew. But how long was she unconscious? The remaining consoles as well as the holo-projector were dark, only tiny sparks and faint jets of gas indicated that something was still, if barely, functioning. She looked at the wrist controls of her suit. The blinking alarm that presumably woke her up came in sight, displaying high levels of radiation. Judging by the calculated exposure time, the ship must’ve detonated around 12 hours ago. Since her suit’s reserve had only an hour’s worth of air, the emergency connection in the seat was still supplying her with oxygen. But how long would that last? Never mind, the radiation should kill her before it, the characteristic blue tint in her vision was a certain sign of that.

After a while, a shadow blotted out the stars. Was that the Enemy, coming to salvage the debris field? No, the blast would’ve irradiated anything it did not manage to destroy, just like her. She tried to detect anyone, but there was nothing, no other survivors or Shells. Then it must be a piece of wreckage, another remnant of her ship. It was utterly dark, even darker than the ever-growing shadows in the corners of her vision. Her eyes must be already failing her, just as she failed her last mission. Yet she would die with honor, on the bridge of her ship, and thus with no regrets. Slowly, she drifted to sleep.


The first thing she saw after waking up was the white uniform of a Doranzer. Indeed, this looked like a medical station, and she was hearing a multitude of devices humming everywhere. But how could she have survived days or even weeks until Sector Command, alerted by her group’s disappearance, would’ve sent a fleet to investigate? She tried to ask the medic, but her sending was met with absolute silence.

As if noticing her waking, the figure turned around. Now Emberwing noticed that she, no, it, had not only no presence but also the wrong color! Of all the possible ones, this thing was pink! Was this android an Umiak construct? Was she on board of an enemy ship, about to be dissected? But the Shells would’ve not only restrained her, but also stationed several hardtroopers in the room, fearing the mind-tricks and telekinesis of the Witches as they called the Loroi. She tried to sense around, but there was absolutely nothing! Did a ship of the Historians, controlled by their AIs, picked her up? But why would their allies mock her with this mismatched copy, was this supposed to be a joke? Even its ears were round! Or was this one supposed to resemble one of their client races, kept hidden by the secretive aliens? No, that would make even less sense, this sector was too far away from Historian space.

Her mind already switched into an overdrive, going through numerous hypotheses, discarding them and trying to come up with new ones, fishing for information in the bottomless sea of her eidetic memory. It plucked out an ancient, mystical legend, told by her clan’s storyteller to all children. There, the Honored warriors would become one with their descendants upon death, immortalized in the telepathic re-telling of their deeds and in the memories of their clan's loremasters. The Dishonored ones, however, would be stripped of their rank, title, name and even their very essence as a Loroi, the sanzai. Their memory forgotten, they would be cursed to roam the twilight forever, alone and in eternal silence. Was that shadow she saw before her death a messenger of this horrible fate? She failed in her task and died fleeing from the enemy, but she did not sully her honor!


Surprisingly, this apparition smiled and then addressed her in basic Trade:
“Finally, you woke up! Please do not be alarmed, we wish you no harm! You are on board of the human exploration ship Charon. On a mission to contact the Loroi Empire.”

Shocked, Emberwing tried to process what this Human said. That grim afterlife was merely superstition, a tool to coerce the young to join the warrior ranks. It had no place in the space-faring age, and she had to look at the current situation from a scientific point of view. If what this alien said was true, then they were looking for the Loroi? But where did they come from? She recalled that this system had indeed three jump-points, one towards the Hierarchy, one towards Leido and the last one was leading to the Great Wastelands. Nothing of interest was found in those barren systems, no resources, no life and even no traces of previous colonization efforts. Maybe exploration meant that those pink-skinned Humans came from farther away, even beyond the Empty Quarter? Most importantly, why were they, by all accounts powerful telepaths, shielding themselves with such impressive Lotai? She had nothing to lose, if they sent a ship to find the Loroi, they must not be aligned with the Umiak yet.

“I am Soroin Torret Emberwing of the Loroi Union, have you rescued me?” she introduced herself.

“Yes we have! So this means you really are a Loroi? That is wonderful! I’m Doctor Therese Sikorsky of the Terran Empire.” the presumably female medic was now beaming with joy. However, the lack of the usual telepathic undertone made the conversation somewhat creepy.

Emberwing was trying to understand human cultural conventions: “Are you a civilian? Is that perhaps the reason why you are not allowed to sanzai with aliens?”

The human tilted her head in apparent puzzlement. Strangely, even that gesture was recognizable despite coming from an unknown species. “Yes, I’m a civilian specialist. What does sanzai mean? Is that some sort of inter-species contact protocol following Trade standards? Did my greeting offend you in any way?”

Now it was Emberwings turn to appear puzzled, “I do not know of such standards, although my caste does not normally deal with alien contacts. Our telepathic communication, the sanzai, is widely known. Judging by your powerful lotai, your mental defenses, you must be capable of it as well.”

The woman frowned, another easily recognizable reaction: “Unfortunately I’m not capable of telepathy, but I’m certainly not shielding myself. This is neither possible nor allowed!”

Turning around and picking up something from a shelf, she handed the package to her: “I have notified the seniors. An officer capable of telepathy will be here in a short while. This is a replacement for your clothes. A copy of the irradiated uniform we had to dispose of. Do you need any assistance?”

Receiving the clothes, Emberwing wondered about her health, she was indeed feeling well enough to meet with those in charge: “Your medical technology is very good, I’m not experiencing any discomfort. I won’t have any trouble dressing myself, thank you.”


The clothes were a good facsimile of her armor, even the material was quite similar to the usual one. After she dressed herself, the doors opened, allowing three female humans to enter. The woman on the left had dark skin and was dressed in a white and gold uniform similar to what the the medic wore. The very light-skinned one on the right was truly huge, almost as tall as a Barsam and clad in what appeared to be light armor. The woman in the middle, displaying the confidence of a person of authority, had slightly darker skin, hair and a distinct tear-shaped tattoo under her right eye. She wore a dark-blue, slightly loose uniform adorned with golden insignia, which probably signified rank. “I’m Tactician Ellen Jardin, second in command of this ship.” She looked at Emberwing intently: “As expected, your mental defense techniques are impressive. I suppose asking you to lower your psi-shields for us outsiders would be impolite?”

Emberwing was exhilarated at the prospect of finding another telepathic race, but why couldn’t she connect to her? “I’m not shielding myself, in fact, I’m actively trying to contact you right now!”

The alien frowned: “This is certainly a strange phenomenon. Not entirely unexpected, but it would explain all the trouble we had finding your race.” She shook her head, “We have to address that issue later, but now, the officers of our ship have gathered. If you think you are already fit enough, we may proceed to the conference room.”

Indeed, Emberwing did not feel any nausea after standing up “I’m in surprisingly good condition, considering what happened to me. Yes, I’m probably as curious as you are, lead on.”


The first issue she inquired about after exiting the med-bay was the status of other survivors, even though the overall telepathic silence made her fear the worst outcome. “I offer you my thanks for the rescue, but do I have to assume that no others of my crew survived?”

The Tactician nodded, “We did not have much time to survey the entire debris field in great detail before more Umiak came, but what Loroi we found were already dead. You survived barely, it took us some time to reconfigure our equipment to remove the radiation from your body and restore the extensive damage.”

They walked through the unexpectedly narrow corridors of the ship in pairs. Only a few other humans were going about their business there, but some of them appeared to be males of the same species. Unlike Loroi males, those were bulkier than the females, save for the massive guard behind her. Emberwing asked the officer beside her: “Your males may serve on board of ships?”

Ellen Jardin shook her head: “It’s the opposite, actually. For a long time, the military and especially the navy were men’s domains. On average, they are stronger and tougher, making the many strenuous tasks of combat easier. Only with the automation and space-flight of the most recent centuries did that advantage become largely obsolete.”

“But what about their numbers?” said Emberwing, only to realize that despite the similarities, those were indeed aliens.

“Oh, you mean your gender disparity? Since we’re a naturally evolved species, our birth ratio is at about half males and half females.” The Human appeared undisturbed by this question.

“You have already learned of us, yet you were unable to find our territory?” Emberwing tried to change the topic.

“Yes, we learned of the existence of both the Umiak and the Loroi Empires from a group of refugees, the Orgus, who were fleeing from the Hierarchy. But being on the other end of their territory, they knew very little of you and most of it was Umiak propaganda, anyway. They also told us about your war, thus we decided to investigate this matter and assess the potential dangers. The average Umiak has even less information about you, and even that is distorted to suit their agenda.” explained the human officer.

“I have never heard of the Orgus, but the Umiak have enslaved numerous races. Wait, does this mean you have contacted the Umiak?” Emberwing was alarmed by the possibility of those telepathic Humans forming a relationship with the Enemy.

“We have not established official contact with the Hierarchy, but we did investigate them in secret. The ability to read their minds certainly helps in this regard, because their speech sounds revolting. Also, we’ve already arrived at our destination, please proceed inside and take a seat.”


They entered a spacious, yet bare room with a round table in the middle, surrounded by chairs. Two human males were already sitting there, and the two women sat to the right of them, with the guard staying by the door. Emberwing took a seat that was offered to her, and the male sitting opposite of her started speaking: “I am Captain Alexander Jardin of the Terran Empire’s vessel Charon. Our mission is the establishment of contact with the Loroi Empire, and I hereby recognize you as a temporary representative of your government.”

Emberwing suppressed her anxiety at being pushed in the role of a Mizol for a first contact scenario. Not only could those aliens provide assistance against the Enemy, they could help her alert the Union about the recent incursion. “Allow me to formally introduce myself, I am Soroin Torret Pedesta Tinza, Soroin is my caste, Torret is my rank and Pedesta Tinza is my spoken name, meaning Emberwing. I am Captain of the Loroi Union vessel Blazing Spear, part of the 25th Strike Group, on a mission to guard this system against the Hierarchy. Or at least I was until recently.”

The human captain nodded while briefly closing his eyes, most probably a ritual gesture: “I offer you my condolences for your loss. Following your custom of introduction, Captain is my function, Alexander is my first name, meaning Guardian and Jardin is my family name meaning Garden, thus it would be “Guardian of the Garden”. You may address us with our family name and function title.” His dark blue uniform was similar to that of the woman, only the gold parts were more elaborate to signify his higher rank.

The woman with the tear-shaped tattoo began to introduce herself next: “As I already said, I’m Tactician Ellen Jardin, Tactician is my function, Ellen is my name, Jardin my family name. As to caste, while we haven’t used such conventions for centuries, the equivalent positions of everyone here would be telepaths. The meaning of my name would be “Moonlit Garden”.

“I am curious about the human social structures.” Emberwing was almost sure that the two humans were not directly related, but what else would those family names signify. ”Since both of you have the same family name, does it mean that this ship belongs to your clan? Or does your clan specialize in diplomatic dealings?”

The Captain laughed out loud, “That’s an interesting way to describe marriage! No, the family names in our case mean that we are married, a traditional pair-bonding custom for raising offspring. We also do not have anything resembling a clan structure, although my family does have a tradition of sea and then space-faring. The ship belongs to the Empire, of course.”

The man to his left, with a stocky build and dark hair, spoke next: “I am the chief intelligence officer of this mission, Operative Alexej Zarjow, which would translate to “King’s Defender”. His black armor-like uniform, adorned with subdued gold insignia, would certainly fit for what must be a Mizol.

Then the dark-skinned woman introduced herself: “I’m Professor Angela Carmona, the chief of the scientific department. My name could be translated to “Heavenly Messenger”. I’m glad that you are feeling better, but I must insist that you will rest after this introduction.”


Emberwing nodded, “I thank you for your welcome, but I must address a matter of utmost importance. Before my ship was destroyed, I was on my way to warn my government of the Umiak incursion. Since you want to contact the Loroi Union, we can help each other here.”

The human Captain agreed, “Since this will make our mission easier, it won't be a problem.” A star chart suddenly appeared above the table they sat at and zoomed in on the fateful system Emberwing recognized instantly. A green marker denoted their position in the next system and a red marker, labeled in Trade with Umiak fleet, was pinned on the system beyond that, towards Union space. “As you can see, we followed the Umiak armada, since we expected that it was sent to attack you. But for us to warn your military on time, we have to overtake their fleet first. I suppose there is no convenient shortcut for us to take or some way for a telepathic message to reach your people?”

“Only a few of us are capable of such a feat, and sadly, I’m not one of them. Also, the path the Umiak are following now is the backdoor to one of our important frontier systems, Leido.” Emberwing pointed to a white dwarf further down. “If we were to go around, it would take too long!”

The dark-haired human, who certainly had that particular expression typical for the Mizol lot, exchanged glances with his Captain and spoke “Such telepathic techniques are certainly impressive. Let’s see, getting past that fleet will be a challenge, but nothing insurmountable, do not worry.”

“Will you try to parlay with the Shells,” The Loroi did not dare to voice another, darker, thought. “Or are you thinking about risking a long jump?”

The Operative stroked his short beard, “A long jump would be trying to transit over a system? No, we’re not foolhardy enough to risk something like that for no reason. Trying to talk with the Umiak, or how you call them Shells derogatorily, will not be particularly effective. We already have surveyed them, and we assessed their potential for a mutually beneficial alliance as too low. Their willingness for negotiations, except for where they can dictate the terms for servitude, is basically nonexistent. We are interested in establishing contact with your Empire first.”

“But the Hierarchy will not recognize any claim to neutrality! If those refugees managed to reach your space, soon, the Umiak will too.” exclaimed Emberwing.

Captain Jardin shrugged: “We also heard from the Orgus that your government has a similar policy. However, such a stance is only applicable if you can also enforce it. Your Empire may be willing to negotiate before resorting to war, provided you can afford it. The Umiak are unlikely to listen to anything, except for our plasma cannons, once we refuse them. If we have to choose a partner, we’d rather start with you.”

“Then how are you going to get past the Umiak fleet?” Emberwing was now curious about their technology.

Operative Zarjow smirked: “Well, before we agree to a formal alliance and establish its terms, our technological capabilities have to remain classified.”

Emberwing could only agree, even a reluctant ally like the Historians did provide some help. Maybe their version of plasma weaponry was better? “Yes, this is satisfactory for the time being.”

The Captain stood up, “Good, this concludes our first meeting. As our Doctor insists, you should rest now. Ellen will show you to your guest cabin.”

[Cthulhu]

Intermission B: Upon the fields of sorrow

Torrai Diaderet First Strike stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking Leinnazalat, the Fire City, Capital of Seren. This once proud and wealthy city, the foundation of the entire sector, earned its name due to the Smelter, where the planet’s mineral riches were refined. After that, they ascended into orbit by means of the famous Great Lift, just as the planet’s governor ascended to become the Third Emperor Eight Dawn. Then came the war and the system fell to the Umiak, the city earning its name a second time as it was utterly destroyed by the occupants fighting the resistance. With the death of Eight Dawn, the spirit of the city, no, of the entire era was killed off for good, too.

Even with its recapture, even with the rescue of its few survivors, did the Union not regain its honor or past glory. The air, rich with mineral dust, smelled like dried blood and the weak breeze was barely able to stir her long purple hair, bound in thick braids. Drawing her sword, she pointed it towards the remnants of the Silver Gate station in low orbit, as if challenging the Shells who destroyed it, with a traditional “laben” stance. Now, shaking her head in order to lift her braids up in the air, she cut one of it in half with a quick slash. Flicking the bundle of hair high up in the sky with her blade, it then burst into flames and disappeared in a small cloud of smoke.

She nodded to the Teidar beside her:
“Thank you for playing along with my whim, Teidar Teigo Niberadi Skyshield.”

The Teidar frowned:
“Why did you insist on performing this ritual? Serens fall was not your fault, honored elder, and your project to restore the planet is progressing well enough.”

“It's not a ritual and never was, I do not care for those rites anyway. Rather, I’m doing something memorable every time I visit Seren for all the fools who would rather forget about the cause of this catastrophe, me included.” The old Loroi pointed at the ruins with her sword before sheathing it. “The spirit of the provincial upstart usurper is still strong among the old warriors. Thinking themselves invincible, ignoring all advice, and then stumbling into this war blind and deaf! I shall force them to remember and learn the lessons that the Shells have taught us.”

“Aunt, you can’t call the Third Emperor a provincial usurper!” protested the Fourth Emperor’s honor guard.

First Strike smiled undauntedly, “So you are not going to argue the upstart part?”

Skyshield sighed, “This is not a game and please, at least do not say anything about the current Emperor.”

“Don’t worry, if I deem it necessary, I’ll tell her directly, o most loyal honor guard of hers, because I am part of her cabinet. Although, being a Mizol, she surely knows what I think about her anyway.” answered the councilor.

“But why do you support her then?” asked the tall Teidar.

“Because she’s the bitter medicine the Union needed, it saved us from the brink of death, and it saves us still. I don’t need to like the taste of it, only the effect it provides is important.” the even taller Elder certainly liked her sayings.

“Azerein Greywind won’t be happy about being called medicine.” commented Skyshield.

“On the contrary, I told her that in person, and she really liked the term. Especially as she stomped out the plague of the war-profiteering bastards and the traitorous boot-lickers who did not have the decency to die with honor.” sent First Strike with glee.

The adjutant, standing far behind them at the shuttle, send quietly, “Esteemed Master, there is an urgent message for you.”

Turning her back to the desolate fields of sorrow, First Strike answered: “I’ll read it in the shuttle on the way back to the Imperial Flagship. Let’s not dwell upon this past for too long, if it’s something important enough for them to bother me, the Azerein may need the advice of her Diadem soon.”

[Cthulhu]

Chapter V: The Debate

The Loroi Captain and the Human Tactician went around a corner and entered an elevator. Alone in the capsule, Emberwing asked Ellen Jardin a question that was on her mind for a while now: “How long was I actually unconscious? The Umiak seemed to have crossed two systems already.”

“About 4 days in total. The Umiak were blazing through space at their top speed, a great amount of tankers supplying them with fuel. Do not worry, we will warn your government in time.” The Human looked at her: “We had to keep you in stasis until we were ready for the treatment. Your suit was intact, and you had great luck, considering the condition most other bodies were in. Still, the radiation damage was extensive, it took us some time to repair everything. It would’ve been a shame to leave you without that beautiful hair or with mismatched skin. Doctor Sikorsky went to great lengths to restore everything as it was supposed to be.” They exited the lift and stepped into a slightly broader hallway.

“Oh, thank you and the Doctor, too! Our hair has great symbolic meaning to us Loroi.” Emberwing was relieved to hear this, she had nearly forgotten what side effects radiation damage would cause. “But unfortunately, I do not know how long those days are meant to be.”

“Yes, we must establish common units of measurement then, a day is a rotational period of our home planet. But first, it would be best for you to sleep as long as you’d like. Even though your body was restored, your mind is surely not.” said the Tactician, pointing to an opening door just across the corridor. “Here is your cabin, a modest meal can be provided for you now or in the morning. If you require something, you can simply press the button on your wrist communicator and ask the computer. Just address it with Charon, we already added a temporary authorization for you.”

“I appreciate your hospitality” Emberwing nodded and entered a small cabin furnished with two beds, a chair, a round table and various cabinets.


After the alien left, she sat on the surprisingly comfortable recliner and tried to process what information she obtained. A new species, apparently advanced and even telepathic, yet surprisingly similar to the Loroi, was a mystery. Could they be related to them? But all Soia-Liron organisms shared a common biochemistry and those pink-skinned humans must surely have a different one, perhaps with iron-based blood? But why would the Soia even create such a race, maybe a prototype they discarded somewhere in the Wastelands? The Humans seemed to have the same preferences regarding gravity and atmosphere, so what was even the point of doing that? Maybe it was related as to why she was unable to read them, a failed experiment related to telepathy, perhaps? Apparently not all Humans were capable of sanzai, why should a species have such imbalanced traits?

On the other hand, the chances for it being a mere coincidence were unbelievably low. While humanoid species unrelated to the Soia were not uncommon, their appearances were unmistakably different to be perceived as truly alien instantly. Those humans, however, had an uncanny resemblance not only in looks, but in behavior, too. Even if a Mannadi were to try its best to smile and appear friendly, she would immediately reach for a blaster anyway, no matter what thoughts she could sense. But despite the complete lack of a telepathic channel, human facial expressions and basic gestures were somehow recognizable. She sighed, this was a job for a Listel, an entire research team of their caste, but sadly, she was not one of them. Too tired to think about this matter, she decided to go to bed first and worry about this conundrum tomorrow.


Exhausted, Emberwing fell asleep instantly. In her dream she was somehow late for her shift, running along the airless, empty and seemingly endless main corridor of her ship, hurrying for the bridge. Passing the mangled, dead Gallen Nozotel sticking out of a breach, she tried to look away. But this time, the technician lifted her faceless head and seemed to stare directly at her.

“You are supposed to be dead!?” Emberwing screamed in terror.

“Yes, oh Captain” the voice of the apparition was hollow, yet powerful, sending shivers down her spine, “You have killed us all. Failed us. Abandoned us.”

“I haven’t killed anyone! I tried to accomplish my duty! I broke through as I was ordered!” said Emberwing, backing away slowly.

“Yet, you failed. We are all dead, everyone in the group perished! Just for you to live? Who are you to deserve this!” the voice howled out its accusations.

“I am the Torret of the Blazing Spear and I command you to stop!” ordered the ship’s Captain.

“You do not deserve this title, this honor, my loyalty! You spurned my work, cursed me and all my kin! I died without honor! Who will tell my story? Who will free me from this twilight?” the Gallen stretched out her charred hands.

“You and everyone else fulfilled your duty to me and the Union!” Emberwing shook her head in denial.

“Then stay with us, Captain! Why have you forsaken us? We are all alone here!” the hands of the crewsister grew and multiplied, trying to capture her.

“No, I must finish my task! Those Humans will help me!” Emberwing tried to evade the shadowy hands.

“So you have joined the Voiceless ones? Then you are already among the Dead!” countless pink hands grabbed her.


With a telepathic yelp, the lone Loroi woke up in the unfamiliar cabin. A nightmare after all what she went through was not unexpected, but this was certainly a particularly unsettling combination. Muttering an apology for the unnamed maintenance technician and her family, she dressed herself. Then she pressed a button on her wrist and spoke into it. “Charon?”

A pleasant-sounding female voice answered her, “Good morning, I hope you had slept well.”

Since the voice sounded quite polite, Emberwing wondered whether this was a personality construct like the Historians used: “Thank you, are you perhaps a sentient computer?”

The voice answered in the same even tone: “No, this is an artificial intelligence mimicking human behavior patterns. It does not have the capability for independent thought. Do you require anything?”

“I’m sorry for assuming. A meal would be nice.” answered Emberwing.

“Certainly, a meal shall be prepared then. Also, there was no need to apologize, I have no feelings you could’ve upset.” replied the voice.

Something hummed, and a chute opened in the wall, revealing a plate with various food items. Realizing how hungry she was, she sat down to eat. This was indeed an assortment of simple Loroi dishes, perhaps salvaged from the wreck or did they already manage to replicate it, too? She made a mental note to ask the Humans for permission to see what they collected from the wreckage, including the bodies. Her crewsisters deserved the honor of a proper cremation, even if the usual remembrance ceremony was impossible with just a single survivor.

Having finished with the meal, she tapped the button again and asked the computer: “Charon, what plans were made for me today?"

“Today, we would like to compare units of measurement and establish common cultural ground for negotiations. Do you prefer a male or a female conversation partner?” came the answer.

Curious about the human males that differed from Loroi, she answered: “A male is acceptable.”

“I shall notify Operative Zarjow then, as the others are currently busy with ship operations.” came the reply.


After a short while, the human officer in question entered the cabin together with another particularly big guard. “I greet you, Captain Emberwing, and hope you had a good night’s rest.” He took the empty plate and gave it to the guard, who, either getting the hint or upon a telepathic command, stepped outside.

Emberwing sighed, “I had slept well, even if my dreams were not particularly pleasant. That, however, does not matter, let’s work on the task at hand.”

The human sat down and a holographic projection of a blue planet appeared above the table: “I understand, let us establish some universal standards for future contacts with your Empire.”

They went through various units of measurement first, most of them derived from this human homeworld, or as they called it, Terra. She explained the particularities of the Loroi system, then asked the Operative about their knowledge of Trade.

Zarjow explained: “We have found a few ancient artifacts and deciphered the writings on them. The Orgus refugees use a different script, but the language behind it appeared to be the same. They have told us about the precursor empire and that it was responsible for spreading this common language among the various races before it violently collapsed. I hope my Trade pronunciation is acceptable.”

Upon the revelation that the Humans had found Soia artifacts, Emberwing wanted to know more, perhaps the humans were indeed related to them: “You have Soia-Liron artifacts on your homeworld?”


The projection centered upon the homeworld’s satellite, “We found them only quite recently as we were conducting mining operations on our moon, Luna. They were the remains of a small underground station, which appeared to have been evacuated and then scuttled. Then, there were some small leftovers and debris pieces, scattered through our Solar system. Those Soia, as you call them, seemed to be quite thorough as they left. Still, it gave our scientists enough hints about advanced technologies. However, why do you refer to them as “Blue Ancestors?”, do you have any knowledge on how they looked like?”

Emberwing shook her head: “It literally means “Ancestors of the Blue Ones”. We do not know how all of them looked like or how they named themselves, since they lived in gigantic ships, rarely descending planet-side. There was most probably a union of sentients, with our ancestors among them. Our telepathically retold legends have preserved this legacy, and even the primitive Loroi of old knew this. The Soia left behind quite a number of organisms they created, based on a particular set of patterns, and they share those with us. There are other races, created by the Soia, namely the Barsam and the Neridi, which have vastly different appearances, yet we share a similar biochemistry and blue, copper-based, blood, hence the name.”

“Then are those races also descendants of the Soia coalition? Or were all three “blue” races created by them?” inquired the human.

The Loroi protested: “No, they were created by them, while we certainly descend from our Soia-era ancestors. The Barsam have a template species, the Nibiren, and we can assume that the Neridi do, too. They had planet-side settlements even before the fall, while the Loroi only descended because and after it. We also stand out because we possess telepathy, our martial traditions and legends of leadership predate the destruction of the Soia dominion!”

Zarjow stroked his beard: “This seems like an interesting genesis story. We have a somewhat different creation myth in many of our religions. The first humans were created by the gods from clay, but in their image. They lived in a paradise garden, ignorant of the world, but without worry. Only after eating the forbidden fruit of knowledge were they cast out into the harsh reality of creation. But that is only a parable, we are definitely natives of our planet. So you proclaim that you were the descendants of your gods, and thus you claim primogeniture of their Empire reborn? It must be nice to have definite proof that not only your gods have really existed, but that you are their heritage, destined to rule. In our past, vicious wars were fought over countless religious differences.”

“The Soia were not gods, merely highly advanced beings and our myths may be old, but they are certainly based on historical events. We also do not derive our claim to authority solely from stories, but from our natural disposition for leadership due to our warrior culture and our psionic talents! The legends are merely proof that our ancestors were rulers, too. The Union was formed voluntarily, as soon as other races recognized our superior affinity for leadership.” Emberwing disagreed vehemently.

“The Barsam are the huge blue ones, right? We weren’t able to get much information on them, but they do look like formidable soldiers. Why would the Soia create them in the image of a native species, if there were enough superior warriors in their ranks already? The Umiak fear you all, but especially your battle-witches as they call them, the Teidar with their telekinetic powers.” The human showed a very faint smile.

“No, being warriors is not the same as being soldiers! Only a disciplined society like ours could be entrusted with the task of being in command, as the industrious Neridi make for good administrators, for example.” explained Emberwing.

The Operative chuckled, “I see, so the Soia picked up races with useful traits throughout their territory, and then made streamlined versions of them in order to fill various roles in their Empire?”

Emberwing shook her head: “We do not have a template species like the other races, as we are the only telepathic one!” before realizing that with the Humans being a naturally evolved telepathic species, the Barsam, in adherence with their strange religion, would renew their objections.

The alien seemed to notice her slight confusion and smiled broadly: “You are beginning to understand, right? Welcome home, wayward daughter.”


“You mean Humans are our template species?” Emberwing jumped up from her seat.

“I apologize for challenging your myths, but the evidence is too obvious, don’t you think so, too?” the holographic moon was replaced by two outwardly identical figures, one Human and one Loroi. “I do not know what those specific biochemistry patterns are, but we are too similar for it to be a mere coincidence. Also, I thought that we should have such a conversation before we meet your diplomats and clash with them over those beliefs.”

Emberwing sat down, huffing in indignation: “You are treating me like a lab miros! I’m not going to believe your theory just like that, even if it may sound plausible.”

The Human shrugged, “While I have no idea what a miros is, the general idea is quite true. If the situation were to be reversed, what would you do with a such a suspicious alien, especially if it is immune to telepathy? We cannot even fathom your psi-techniques, as our telepathy is a recent discovery. Besides, the various atrocities of the Hierarchy would give you little room for goodwill.”

“You mean the cyborg infiltrators?” Emberwing shuddered “I must admit, after I woke up and encountered a psi-inert Loroi-like humanoid, the thought about being dissected by the Umiak crossed my mind. Still, while we Loroi value honesty, the mere idea of having a template species will meet significant resistance. Of course, some of us may agree to it after studying the evidence, but our government will not even think of accepting this. Anything that may question the morale of the Union would be suppressed, at least until the war is over.”

“We are not interested in challenging your self-image or disrupting the internal propaganda of your Empire. What I am trying to accomplish is that if we can avoid the usual incidents that accompany first contacts, then it will benefit both our realms. Therefore, how about helping me optimize our efforts, call it your fare, if you will?” Zarjow’s offer was not particularly attractive, especially because it was one-sided, but she had little choice.

“You will be a good match for our Mizols, o Defender of your Ruler. I shall accept this deal if you fulfill a couple of minor requests.” agreed Emberwing.

“Those Mizols are your diplomats, as far as we know? I shall accept your praise, then. It also makes sense to sweeten the deal a little, what do you request of us? Perhaps more information about our similarities in order to convince you?” the human pointed to the projection.

“I would love to study your biology and culture in detail, but first, I want to see what you salvaged from the remains of my ship,” she gulped, "especially the bodies.”

“The duty of the Captain, I can understand that. If you need anything for a funeral, we shall provide it.” Zarjow stood up, “We can visit the cargo bay immediately, if you wish.”

“Lead on.” Emberwing hoped that this could clear up her mind for the things to come. She was quite sure to have overlooked way too many hints that were crucial for the task ahead of her. Balancing the much-needed prospective alliance against the cultural fallout this contact would cause was an incredibly difficult job, yet her duty to the Union urged her to challenge it anyway.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter VI: Legends

Emberwing stood up and followed Zarjow down the corridor. As they entered a different elevator, he continued with his contemplation: “You see, the thought of us being the clay from which the gods created your species is a very difficult topic for us, too. On the other hand, it may answer a couple of questions. Why do we have discovered telepathy only recently or why is it a very rare trait among us?” he turned around to face her, “Or why is it impossible for us to hear each other?”

The Loroi replied: “You mean, this may be related to the Soia tampering with your ancestors?”

“Indeed, there are some small modifications in our genome. It’s nothing that affects anything directly, as far as we can tell, but it's certainly artificial. What does it do then? Is it a failed attempt at an uplift, before the Soia abandoned us and created you? Or did they merely experiment on us in order to steal our nascent psionic potential?” The lift opened to reveal a laboratory.

Another human that was already introduced to her was working there. Professor Angela Carmona turned around and greeted them with a smile: “Welcome to my little kingdom!”
She frowned at Zarjow and then looked at Emberwing: “I see, he already tested those silly mind-games he devised on you. Then, he immediately switched to the big philosophical questions in order to confuse you even more, all in an attempt to fish for information?”

The perpetrator spread out his arms, perhaps in a mock gesture: “Guilty as charged, colleague. But, isn’t that the ultimate goal of us both, to obtain knowledge?”

“Biological probes don’t respond to sarcasm and neither do I.” retorted the xenobiologist, before turning to the Loroi again, “But he is right, our similarity and the telepathic incompatibility are probably related. I’m fully intent on finding out the truth, whatever it may be. So, you’re here to see what we collected, including the bodies? Please proceed over there.”


The three walked to the opposite wall of the laboratory, where a rack with numerous caskets was erected. Emberwing counted 24 of them, were those the only remains they salvaged? Or were the others already dissected and then disposed of?

Angela Carmona pointed at the setup: “We had limited time for our salvage operation, and thus we simply stuffed everything there was in our cargo bay. We found 25 bodies in the wreckage, most of them barely recognizable. You and two others were an exception, and only you could be revived. Perhaps your bridge was equipped with additional shielding?”

Emberwing was both puzzled and devastated, “This ship had a crew of 489, and you are telling me that I was one out of three you found in one piece? I was on the secondary bridge with 7 others, and that chamber was not particularly reinforced.”
She tried to remember what she saw back then. Indeed, half the compartment was gone, and she could not see or even sense anybody. But in retrospect that did not make any sense, how did she manage to survive a reactor blast? “No, let me see the bodies first.”

The humans looked at her, the male with a curious and the female with an empathetic expression, then the latter answered: “Do not force yourself, but if you insist, then let us start with the intact ones.”

Two of the caskets slid out on extended rails. The scientist touched their control panels and the lids became transparent, revealing two familiar faces.

To the left, her favorite Crossfire rival, Listel Sininran Amber, looked battered, her face twisted in clearly discernible agony. To the right, Teidar Sezon Swiftstrike had an almost serene expression. Suddenly it dawned on her, was her honor guard responsible for protecting her from the force of the blast? She turned around and asked the humans: “Where did you find those two?”

“The armored one was huddled in the corner of the compartment you were in. The other one was skewered on a piece of wreckage close by.” answered the man. “Did you know them, perhaps?”

Emberwing nodded, “Yes, the one on the left was my friend and rival, Listel Amber. What a horrible death. Then there is my honor guard, Teidar Swiftstike. I think she is the one responsible for the shielding you’ve mentioned.”

Zarjow nodded: “The Teidar have powerful psychokinesis, so you think she saved you?”

“Indeed, her specialty was shielding, even though it could not help against radiation.” answered Emberwing.

The Operative looked at the Teidar with apparent admiration: “A telekinetic force strong enough to deflect an explosion is certainly impressive.”

The Loroi Captain shook her head, “This is way too powerful for a normal application, yet if she did not care about surviving the backlash…” she placed her hand on the coffin, above Swiftstrike’s face. Her unvarnished amplifier was still there, albeit cracked and ruined, the humans seemed to be oblivious to its significance. “Thank you, you have fulfilled your duty.” After that, Emberwing straightened herself out and said, “I want to see the others, too.”

Angela Carmona looked at her with concern: “Some corpses are a rather disturbing sight. Don’t worry, we haven’t dissected them, but we...”

“No, I must see them” Emberwing interrupted her, “It is my last duty as the Captain.”


One by one, the caskets were brought before her, revealing their gruesome contents. She recognized what must be the remains of Paset Riversand, but the others were just random crewsisters she did not know, most of them burnt beyond recognition anyway. She, the lone survivor, would have to preserve the legacy of the entire Strike Group 25 now. “I’m finished. Please, cremate them.”

Zarjow extended his hand towards the rack, “Do you need anything for the funeral, or are there any rituals that must be observed?”

“Normally, there’s a telepathic remembrance ceremony, but I can’t do that alone. The bodies are merely empty vessels, and we simply cremate them right after.” She sighed, bracing herself for the new task, “Now tell me, what have you learned from them. Even without dissection, as you claim, you must’ve been curious about our similarities.”

“You catch on quickly” The Operative pointed at what appeared to be a holo-projector in the middle of the laboratory, “Then let’s have a look over here.”

They examined the incredibly remarkable similarities. If it weren’t for the introduction of the standard set of Soia-Liron biochemistry and the apparent correction of the usual errors a naturally evolved species accumulates, the females of the two races were indeed almost identical. However, there were two apparent differences, the reverse male dimorphism and, most importantly, the inconsistent, cloaked human telepathy.


Emberwing wanted to know more about it: “Previously you’ve said that telepathy is a recent discovery and that only a few are proficient in it? All Loroi throughout our history were at least capable of sanzai and cases of mute children are incredibly rare.”

The Professor nodded: “Yes, the phenomenon of telepathy was discovered about 100 years ago by chance. We still do not know why it works, only how it must be unlocked and that it succeeds for a small minority of our children.”

“You must actually unlock your telepathic talents first?” Emberwing could not imagine what that meant, since Loroi children would learn to restrain them instead.

“Indeed, while there were legends about paranormal abilities, unconfirmed cases or outright fraud in our history, the genuine phenomenon was revealed during an unrelated experiment. Its discovery changed our society and allowed us a big leap in development. Yet we still do not know about the true nature of telepathy or how we are actually enabling it. As soon as we learned about another telepathic species, I supported Captain Jardin regarding this mission. With your expertise, I assumed that we could learn more about this mystery.” The Professor smiled wearily, “Our apparent psi-incompatibility was a huge letdown, but also an additional challenge.”

“Do you have any theories to its cause?” the Loroi Captain was concerned that this silence might be interpreted as dishonesty, significantly hampering any attempts to build up trust between the species. On the other hand, since they also did not know how telepathy worked, what could the Loroi offer those Humans?

“Well, the Soia as you call them, may have transformed our ancestor’s rudimentary potential for telepathy into your sanzai. The ability we discovered could be the result of some mutations that occurred much later on.” answered Angela Carmona. “Both faculties can act at cross purposes or even cancel each other out. In the worst possible case, telepaths of different races may be generally unable to interpret another psionic language, so to speak.”

“That would be unfortunate, since we were also looking forward to another telepathic species. I do not know about the full extent of our research regarding the intricacies of psionic capabilities, but we can add this to the list of technological exchanges.” Emberwing tried to present her race’s accomplishments in a better light: “If we are truly related, our techniques may be compatible, and we can attempt to connect with each other. This Lotai of yours could be an unintentional or subconscious reaction, and we may help you learn to control it.”

The Operative mused: “Or the Soia left a parting gift, a fail-safe of sorts, that makes us humans unable to understand each other. There is a myth about mortals being punished by the gods, cursed with the inability to understand each other. Forced to rely on a myriad of spoken languages, the people broke apart into a multitude of tribes. We always thought of it being a parable, but maybe the precursors have silenced our nascent talent? As I previously said, there are some strange traces in our genome.”

“You mean it may be the cause for us being unable to sanzai with each other, too?” Emberwing shuddered at the thought of such a divine punishment.

“Don’t let this guy muddle your reason with his superstitions.” retorted the scientist, “there’s absolutely no proof that we possessed any kind of telepathy in the past. We also do not know what those genetic anomalies do. Besides, the time-frame would not be consistent.”

This did not discourage him, however: “The Soia empire collapsed 275,000 years ago, thus it could have affected our species, which emerged even before that. Maybe the shock of losing one of our primary senses was preserved in myths, or our brain and psyche can still feel the phantom pain of what should be naturally available.”


This disturbing story about the gods depriving mortals of a common means of communication reminded Emberwing of another legend. “The Cursed ones! We also have an archaic legend about something similar!”

She recited her clan’s version of the myth about the Honored and Dishonored warriors, with the latter being punished by stripping them of their essence and Sanzai, damning them to a shadowy half-existence.
Then a thought came up, why did they not simply disappeared upon death, but were instead cursed to walk the twilight, and what would that even mean? Scrutinized from this perspective, the legend seemed strange, did it perhaps deviate too much from its source?

The truth would be hidden between the various, often conflicting interpretations, she surmised: “There are too many versions of this legend, we would need the help of a Nedatan, a philosopher, in order to unravel them and approximate its original context. According to the Perrein versions, for example, The Voiceless ones would be cursed to wander the nighttime jungles as evil spirits.”

“Great, now we’ll be seen as vampires!” laughed Zarjow “should I dress accordingly, then?”

“No, you are looking evil enough already“ chuckled Carmona, “That’s what you get for dabbling into the occult and digging up ancient horror stories, so stop scaring the girl.”

“What’s a vampire supposed to be?” wondered Emberwing.

The Professor waved her hand as if to disperse something, “Nothing but one of the many personifications for the fear of the dark the primitive humans had. An evil monster that rises from its grave at night and preys on the living. There is a myriad of various folklore spooks in our culture.”

“Do not dismiss the legends too quickly, some of them may hold a glimpse of truth. Since telepaths would attribute a psionic signature to life, a mute, yet moving creature could be regarded as the opposite, an undead.” argued Zarjow, then conceded: “Let’s compare those legends and our history later, then. That should be enough scary stories for the day.”

Ignoring what seemed to be superintendence regarding her age, Emberwing recalled what she knew of the Perrein version. Considering the regressed post-fall Loroi, it may indeed be explained with the fear of the perpetually dark jungle. The inability to sense the incoming danger telepathically would be a horrifying thought, enough to attribute this very concept to a supernatural monster. But why should the Dishonored transform into those apparitions? She never liked those myths or spent any time contemplating them, thus she had no answer. They needed an expert, perhaps even her father, Nedatan Glimpse of Eternity, who was a high-ranking philosopher specializing in legends.


Being fed up with too much occultism, she shifted the topic: “Then, let’s have a look at my ship, or what remains of it.”

The wall of the laboratory became transparent, revealing a huge cargo bay filled with various pieces of wreckage. Humans as well as eight-legged robots were inspecting the debris. Many of the pieces were charred and twisted, with few sizeable fragments in-between.

“How big is this compartment and your entire ship?” Emberwing turned around. This chamber seemed to be even more spacious than her cruiser’s flight deck, too massive for a mere scout vessel.

“The ship has a diameter of 1050 meters and is 520 meters high, each cargo bay is 105 meters long and broad.” stated Zarjow. The holo-projector was now displaying a rotating, discus-shaped, utterly black ship with no visible exhaust ports.

“You have reaction-less drives?” the radial symmetry reminded her of a Historian ship. Calculating its size, she was baffled: “And why is a scout the size of a citadel?”

“The Charon, or Jumper as it was named back then, was actually the first ship to be equipped with this prototype drive system 18 years ago.” explained the Operative “an appropriately voluminous hull was needed for its subsystems and thus this experimental ship was repurposed. Now, it was refitted for a scout role, since most of its tonnage is actually reserved for fuel tanks.”

“This ship was used for multiple trials, then? What kind of experiments would even need such a gigantic ship for?” this sparked Emberwings curiosity.

“Initially, it was meant to simulate the size and mass of prospective vessels for jump drive tests. As to the other things...“ Zarjow smiled, “It’s classified, of course. But it will help us out regarding your mission.”

“Then I shall trust you on this matter, but I hope that we can have some technological exchange after we sign an alliance.” The Loroi smiled back. “Besides, you already learned a lot about us, yet your Empire remains a mystery.”

“Not quite as much as we’d like, most of the wreckage here is not in a particularly useful state, and we’ve found no major information caches.” The Human stroked his beard, “how about an information exchange then? We can head over to the officer’s lounge for a meal and then go through the database.”

“We Loroi need only a single meal per day, but I would love to look through your archives. We can discuss the matter of the wreck later.” Emberwing was glad to be able to switch to a different task and no longer focus on the gloomy thoughts regarding the remnants of the Blazing Spear for a while. Sometimes, the inability to forget was also a curse.


Angela Carmona looked at the Operative and shook her head, “I’ve already eaten, and I need to take care of the bodies first.”

Zarjow nodded: “Then, let's go right away and have a seat before the ship performs a jump. I’d rather have a meal afterwards, not before.”

They left the laboratory and boarded the elevator. Emberwing asked the Human: “Since the ship is about to jump into the next system, does that mean that the Umiak fleet already left it?”

“Yes, our calculations show that they should've crossed it by now. We don’t want to meet them and our little trick needs to be timed well.” answered Zarjow.

“It’s just the matter that there is an outpost in that system. Maybe it was able to raise an alarm before being swarmed.” she certainly hoped for that, but given how the Shells managed to silence her group, it was doubtful at best.

“Then you should hope for the best and prepare for the worst.” the Human encouraged her just as they exited the lift, crossed a hallway and entered the empty lounge. “You can have a seat over there and have a look at our cultural archives.”

The Lounge was the first properly decorated room that she saw. Its holographic walls displayed a tranquil landscape, most probably of their homeworld. Soft, rolling hills covered in green vegetation surrounded a valley intersected by a meandering river. A walled city occupied a bank and its tiled roofs reflected the morning sun. Was this perhaps a historical reconstruction? Somehow, this scenery reminded her of Deinar.

Her reminiscence was interrupted by Zarjow, who stood by an alcove, pointing at a terminal: “I’ve set up a lecture about our history, you can read it here or in your cabin, if you wish. That background is merely an artist’s impression, but we can include a virtual tour of Terra later.”

Emberwing sat down on the chair that was offered to her. “This is a wonderfully serene room and I would like to stay here, thank you.”
Immersing herself in the lecture, she did not even notice the jump.

[Cthulhu]

Intermission C: Fire and Fury

The middle of the 21st century marked an important milestone for Mankind. The first permanent settlement on Mars, the first fusion power plant and the first nuclear-powered spaceship seemed to reinvent and reignite the spirit of the Space Age. Even interstellar travel seemed no longer a distant dream. On the other hand, though, Earths ecosystem was aching under the weight of 12 billion inhabitants and their recklessness. Despite great advances in clean energy and sustainable technologies, the sheer numbers and unbridled greed drowned out most efforts.

Pollution and climate change gave the resource conflicts a new dimension, and instead of oil, vicious wars were now fought over clean water, arable land or even habitable ground. The major powers, still locked in a state of wary peace due to a parity in apocalyptic weapons, were supporting the various small countries in a grand chess game of proxy conflicts. With the prospect of extraterrestrial territories, a new colonial race was expected in a few decades, and the international tensions were rapidly climbing to an all-times high.

Meanwhile, one of the most troublesome hot-spots, South-Eastern Asia, was struggling with a particularly vast assortment of problems. Overpopulation, land erosion and rising sea-levels made the wars here especially desperate. Furthermore, it was also a great trading nexus, drawing additional geopolitical interest to this entire region. Many of the states, factions, warlords or even rebel groups in the area were more or less reduced to mere pawns.

Yet another seemingly ordinary conflict, ignited by the ambitions of a young upstart and fueled by the considerable amount of arms and supplies provided by his benefactor, started on the fateful day of 9.9.2061. The war went surprisingly well and the country was able to retake the territory they considered rightfully theirs. Following the collapse of the defending forces and against unspoken agreements, the attackers quickly took the enemy capital, and it's important, foreign-funded infrastructure.

This loss forced the other side’s backer to demand the immediate withdrawal of the occupying army. Emboldened by the victory, the aggressor refused and advanced even further, now threatening the interests of additional actors. The general distrust between the superpowers prevented a quick diplomatic solution, and the patron was as unwilling as he was unable to reign in his rebellious puppet. Following a particularly insidious provocation, which was later revealed to be done by a third party, the furious empire decided to interfere directly, violations of the status-quo be damned.

The orbital kinetic weapons platform was a very convenient armament that the advanced countries adopted recently, but in great numbers. It allowed for quick and precise strikes anywhere on Earth, and with devastating effect, yet without the radioactive fallout of nuclear weapons. With merely two dozen rounds from above, the transgressor’s military potential was reduced to rubble. Hailed as a surgical intervention, the barrage nevertheless shattered the unexpectedly fragile balance of power.

Urged to advance in order to secure the peace, or rather resources, the neighbors, acting as proxies, occupied both the conquered country, and the hapless conqueror. Not willing to concede defeat, the warmonger’s endorser struck them with orbital bombardment in turn. What followed, was an ever escalating series of exchanges as decades of pent-up rivalry were unloaded upon Earth’s surface. Even though the territories of the superpowers were still off-limits due to the balance of doomsday weapons, the militaries of the proxies, protectorates or client states were considered fair game. Each strike prompted a retaliation, and a counterattack a new retribution.

The lesser powers took this as a cue to settle their own stalemates as well, and a series of border wars quickly followed suit. Only after a couple of those escalated to limited nuclear exchanges, did the international outrage about the considerable civilian casualties manage to stop this undeclared World War, or as it came to be known, the Half-mageddon. Without anticipating or planning for it, Humanity was ushered into a wholly different kind of future over the span of a mere 3 months.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter VII: Revelations

“So, is it warlike enough for you?” Emberwings lecture was suddenly interrupted by someone who looked over her shoulder.

Startled, she spun her chair around, only to face the other Captain. “Yes, no, I mean we also did have a world war on Deinar, and it was much longer and bloodier, especially because those Zaral upstarts unearthed amplifiers on Mezan and…” It seems her bad habit of getting too engrossed into something played a trick on her yet again. Perhaps she should’ve accepted Amber's offer to train her in the Listel mental discipline techniques.

“It looks like your people were blessed with an overabundance of precursor artifacts. Particularly those amplifiers do sound interesting, what can they amplify?” Alexander Jardin looked at her with an amused expression.

She sighed, “Those amplify our psionic capabilities, especially telekinesis. In the past, the Deinarid nation of Zaral conducted a mission to a neighboring planet, Mezan, and found a great cache of Soia artifacts. Among other things, there were items capable of enhancing clairvoyance, and from there, other applications were developed. Those were used in the following world war, and my homeworld was unified under the First Deinar Emperor, Zaral Siilad. Was the development on Earth similar?”

“Actually, no, and this was our Third World War. Compared to the other ones, it was rather short and bloodless, yet it was merely a prelude to the real catastrophe. We should give you a better rundown of our history later.” answered Ellen Jardin, who was accompanying Alexander. “Zarjow picked out a particularly interesting history lecture for you to read.”

“Three world wars and you were still not unified after?” Emberwing was puzzled.

“The unification came later and was mostly due to our awakening telepathy, but that’s a lengthy story. Besides, we came to show you the system we jumped into some time ago. You said that it contained an outpost, but the Umiak deep-jumped on top of it. They even waited a bit before the jump, thus we theorized that they timed their attack after a ship had left that system.”
The Captain pointed forward, and the walls switched from the idyllic landscape to a star system chart and a planetary overview.


Emberwing rubbed her temples, she had a feeling that she missed a sleep cycle. Especially since that tactical analysis did not make any sense to her. “How would the Umiak even know when the ship left? Or how did you know where and when they jumped?”

“We also have something akin to, what do you call it, Farsight? While ours has a very short range compared to your, as we’ve learned, amplified version, it is still useful for looking into the next system.” Ellen looked at her bonding partner, “We should add those devices to the list of technological exchanges, I’d love to test one out.”

Finally, the Loroi understood what was bothering her: “You can sense the Shells?!”

Both Humans appeared puzzled, “Certainly, but you can, too. As we’ve learned from the Umiak, your Far-Sensors, as they call them, provide your forces with a strategic advantage. We simply assumed that the Hierarchy may employ some defectors or captives for this important operation.”

The probability of a warrior turning traitor was unbelievable, yet it may be a possible explanation as to how the Shells were able to pinpoint her group's location. Timing the attack in such a way as to hit a window of opportunity where there would be no courier ships to warn anyone would be paramount, too. But, most importantly, why did the Enemy Lotai not affect the Humans? Was she too complacent, the similarity shocking enough to cause her to drop vigilance? Were the Humans perhaps lying about their contacts with the Hierarchy? Were they maybe a part of it, or even worse, the other way round? The Union did not know the source of the powerful Umiak plasma focus, were those perhaps hand-me-downs, just as the pulse cannons were? She felt the need to ask them about their weapons inconspicuously, but what if the Humans lied about them being unable to read her, too?

She forcefully suppressed her anxiety, this paranoia was going absolutely nowhere. A good night’s rest and then a proper review of the information she obtained were the most logical steps to take. Still, their knowledge about the Hierarchy intrigued her, and she decided to ask directly: “No, I mean the ability to sense them from this distance unamplified is certainly impressive. You also seem to have a great amount of knowledge about the Hierarchy, how were you able to amass it so quickly? This mission was launched only a short time ago, and you said that those Orgus refugees did not have much in-depth knowledge about the invaders.”

Alexander Jardin smiled, “It must be quite convenient to have an eidetic memory, we need to watch what we say in your presence. We were able to acquire this amount of intelligence by asking them nicely, of course.”

Emberwing frowned, “The Shells are quite secretive, why would they answer your questions? Besides, you said that you avoided a contact with them, did you perhaps meet a client race of theirs?”

The Human’s smile shifted into a grin, “We have a saying that you can reach a better level of understanding with both a gun and a kind word, instead of just a kind word. The Orgus did not know about the exact borders, thus we made quite the unintentional detour at first, evading the Umiak while trying to find you. But time was also of essence, therefore we intercepted a lone Umiak ship that our farsight spotted. It was a good opportunity in order to initiate limited contact on our terms and with superior firepower. We wanted to read their minds without showing ourselves, impersonating a different race altogether. At first, it seemed to go well, but then they suddenly tried to escape in a most desperate way. Therefore, we were forced to destroy their ship. If you wish, we can show you the wreckage of that hapless scout vessel.”

That form of armed diplomacy was quite familiar for the Loroi, but the level and means of deception were a rather novel concept. “You tricked them by assuming a different form?”

“With an overlay for the communication channel, obviously.” said the Tactician, “I’m quite satisfied with my looks even without augmentations. Still, something tipped them off, and they tried to flee shortly after the contact. We carefully disabled the ship and, fortunately enough, managed to find survivors we then interrogated.”

“Well, that gives me an interesting idea, what if they somehow managed to copy your Farsight ability and were spooked that it did not work on us all of a sudden?” The Human Captain stroked his chin. “There was nothing extraordinary in the wreckage, but perhaps we overlooked something we’re not familiar with.”

The Loroi nodded in acknowledgment, “Then I must thank you that I was spared from that interrogation. However, I’m sure that our abilities cannot be replicated and no Loroi would step so low as to aid the Enemy!”
Still, considering the cruel and lengthy experiments, it could not be refuted completely. She would need to have a look at this wreck later. “I accept your offer and would like to inspect that Umiak ship, how about tomorrow?”

Captain Jardin nodded, “Good, then we shall have a look at that after you’ve rested.”

Emberwing stood up and looked at the imagery on the walls. The outpost was no longer there, and the abandoned settlement on the planet’s surface was gone, replaced with a crater. This meant that the Umiak fleet would only be spotted by the Rallis station in about five or six days. Perhaps sooner, if the Sector Command sent another group to investigate the disappearance in a timely manner. Hopefully, that trick the Humans were still hiding would work. She sighed and followed the couple to the exit.


Back in her cabin, Emberwing took a shower, threw her clothing into a machine labelled as a cleaner and then laid on the bed to recollect herself. The chance that the Humans were in league with the Enemy was low, and the Shell ship could reveal a couple of secrets. She decided to consult with the aliens about the Enemy Lotai, perhaps together they could find a way around it. She then compiled a mental list about possible questions, ranging from the food to the way the Humans seemed to operate their machinery without direct input. Finally, even though she was anxious about yet another nightly ordeal, she decided to sleep no matter what.

Contrary to expectations, this time it was not a nightmare. She was back on Deinar, in her clan’s ancestral highland territory, no less. She walked past the ancient, weathered fortress to the edge of the steep Starstruck cliffs and looked into the valley below. Strangely enough, what she saw was not a Loroi, but that Human city she saw in the lounge. It blended seamlessly into the landscape, and despite the distance, she could see both Loroi and Humans on the paved road which stretched towards the open city gates. Many were walking, others were sitting on carts being pulled by alien animals and some were even riding those big creatures. This scene, almost like something out of the historic Menelos period, was nevertheless impossible. Nothing resembling pink humanoids was ever recorded in the legends, not even the various fantastic monsters, mythic reinterpretations of pre-fall aliens, were even remotely similar. Still, the scenery felt strangely organic, as if being meticulously crafted, but, unfortunately, the alarm dispelled everything.

She woke up rested, albeit perplexed about the uniquely vivid dream. Why the mix of humans and Loroi in ancient clothing, together with those pack animals she saw in the archives just once? Well, that had to wait until the times were more peaceful. She put on the cleaned uniform, and pressed the button on her wrist: “Charon? A meal, please.”

“What kind of food would you like? Please choose from the menu.” answered the computer and a holographic image appeared above the table. Various basic foodstuffs, but even variations thereof, appeared before her.

“How were you even able to replicate them?” wondered Emberwing.

“A crew member offered to research the items that were recovered from the wreck in her spare time. Since there were too few examples, new combinations were invented by more volunteers. You may rate those, if you wish to taste them.” came the reply.

“Why would they go through the trouble of all that? It is certainly a strange hobby. But I must express my sincere gratitude for it.” Emberwing selected several new items on the list.

Something whirred behind the wall and a chute opened, revealing a plate with the requested meal. The food was peculiar, but not unpleasant, and she gave a quick feedback about the taste. It was far better than that Perrein stuff they received by mistake once. Even though Emerald Wing joked that she should eat it quickly before it got the chance to eat her, she couldn’t stomach it.
Dispelling the bittersweet memories, she said: “I’m done, please, inform the officers that we can inspect the remains of the Umiak ship as we discussed yesterday.”


After a few minutes, Operative Zarjow walked into her cabin, “I hope that the experimental food was to your liking?”

Emberwing stood up, “Yes, even though I do not understand how it is created or delivered.“

They walked out of the cabin and into the elevator, “The food replicators can assemble most foodstuffs on a microscopic scale from things like protein paste or even cell cultures. In your case, those ingredients were synthesized separately. Then, it is delivered to each cabin through tubes in capsules.”

The Loroi couldn’t even imagine eating the disgusting goo that the Umiak or Tithric subsisted on, but going even further to manufacture food facsimiles from that, like a spare part in a Gallen’s workshop? “What about real food, then?”

“There is some, of course, but processed food is more efficient, especially on ships. As to why we even invented that? This is also a lengthy story best covered in another history lecture, since now we’ll have a somewhat unappetizing task of picking through remains before us.” The lift capsule opened to reveal a laboratory overlooking another cargo bay.

An unknown dark-skinned human was standing at the big window, observing the salvage teams inspecting the Shell wreck. He turned around and Zarjow introduced him: “Allow me to acquaint you with William Steele, our chief Engineer. He is also a telepath, although he prefers conversing with machines.”

The powerfully built man offered her a small bow and a radiant smile “Greetings to you, I am this fine vessel’s designer, architect, shipwright and machinist. Following your tradition of giving names meaning, mine would be Steel Helmet.” He pointed at the wreckage, then at the holographic image of an Umiak Type-Z light destroyer in the middle of the laboratory: “Thanks to a well-placed plasma bolt, this heap of scrap is all that was left of that ship. While I would’ve loved to get my hands on the intact vessel, the Captain deemed the situation too dangerous for a boarding attempt.”

“Yes, this was the correct course of action, since the Shells would rather self-destruct, then be captured.” confirmed Emberwing, before asking about the Human weaponry: “What is a plasma bolt?”

The image changed to show the Charon, then zoomed in on its upper part. The bulb at the top of the discus-shaped hull opened a gun port, outing itself as a huge turret. The technician asked: “You also use plasma weaponry, right?”

“Indeed, we use a pulse cannon that sends pulses of plasma on a carrier wave.” explained Emberwing, omitting the fact that this was a dumbed down version of the superior Historian plasma array.

The Engineer snapped his fingers, “An ingenious approach at overcoming the focusing problems! Instead, we went on the roundabout way of pulsing the carrier wave itself first. This proved to be utterly inefficient until we learned how to create a self-containing bolt of energy, compressing the plasma discharge into a single burst.”


“That’s a very interesting concept, we should add it to the technology exchange.” Somewhat convinced by the radically different approach, Emberwing decided to reveal her concerns about the main topic to Zarjow: “Let’s get back to the Umiak ship. Recently, the Hierarchy has found an unknown way to deceive our Farsight, yet it does not seem to affect your perception. To be honest, this is a very strange coincidence that will be of great significance once the Union learns of this.”

Fortunately, the Operative appeared just as puzzled. “Conjuring a cloak to shield others from telepathy is not something we are able to do, if that’s what you are implying. We do not even know of ways to effectively shield our own minds from a more experienced race of telepaths, thus our incompatibility was as much of a curse as it was a blessing. But I can see how some less open-minded Loroi could see it as a potential threat or even a sign of collaboration with the enemy. In order to disprove that, we’d need to find out how the Hierarchy accomplished this feat.”

The Loroi Captain agreed, “Thank you for your cooperation. At first, I was reluctant to reveal this, but you seemed forthcoming enough.”

Zarjow chuckled, “We are certainly not completely honest, but I thank you for this step to build up trust. How do you propose we should go on about it? After all, it might be related to our telepathic incompatibility.”

Meanwhile, Emberwing was going through various ideas at a rapid speed. Her rested mind, which was no longer bogged down by stress, came up with various approaches: “Sifting through that amount of debris would take weeks, have you perhaps found anything interesting?”

William Steele shook his head, “If you mean something extraordinary, then no. We finished cataloging the pieces, but whatever parts we found in at least somewhat intact state were pretty normal.”

Zarjow interjected, “We also did not find anything resembling Loroi corpses, and the two survivors did not know of anything unique or new on board. Admittedly, those were just common crew members, thus we cannot refute the possibility of something mysterious being there.”

Emberwing proposed a different approach: “Then let’s compare this debris catalog with the one from my ship and list the matches, especially the ones concerning the material composition.”

“Are you looking for a specific substance?” asked Zarjow. The holographic projector was displaying two rows and a great number of similarities, still too many for a quick analysis.

“Not quite, more like a certain pattern. Could you sort the Umiak matches by total percentage, with the smallest amounts first?” specified the Loroi. The idea that she came up with was pretty farfetched, but compared to the others, it could be disproved rather quickly. Unfortunately, as she realized after seeing a familiar type of ceramics, her intuition proved to be spot on. “Can you magnify this particular piece and list all of its details?”

“This sliver?” the Engineer pointed at a small, marginally concave shard of what must’ve been a slate, “It looks like a fragment of an ornamental tile to me.”

“The mindless Husks are the natural enemies of everything that does not serve an utterly practical purpose. They abhor opulence, beauty or even elegance and have no need for decorations.” said Emberwing while clenching her fist. Farseeing Umiaks would be a rather horrifying thought, was this perhaps the origin of their newfound abilities?
She had to warn the Union about this find, too. “Judging from its structure and, most importantly, composition, this must be a remnant of a psionic amplifier.”

[Cthulhu]

Chapter VIII: Contemplation

“That’s quite the surprise, but the Umiak are not telepathic, are they?” wondered Zarjow. “What good will an amplifier do for them, anyway?”

He then looked at Steele, who asked Emberwing: “I suppose telepathy can not be recreated artificially, or is that perhaps a cultural taboo the Umiak have now violated?”

The Loroi had to clarify: “There’s no taboo or something like that, it’s merely the fact that Sanzai is intrinsically linked to the structure of our brain. No single part is responsible for it, instead, it’s the emergent property of the whole consciousness. It’s nothing the Shells could simply learn or copy. Also, there is absolutely no way to recreate any psionic abilities with machines.” She did not voice her concerns regarding the improbable likelihood of genetically manipulated, psi-enabled Shells.

“Then how does an amplifier actually work?” inquired the Operative, “Or is that a state secret?”

Emberwing shook her head, outright lying like a Mizol in order to avoid sensitive topics was a novel, yet distasteful experience. Especially because she had to, since the Loroi did not even know why the amplifiers worked, only how they could be adapted to suit their needs.
She decided to dodge the matter for now and let the Tricksters worry about it later. “I can reveal a little, since this discovery seems to be very important. The amplifiers act like a magnifying glass, but they cannot add more power or act on their own. Our race’s mibel dishred, mental abilities always come from within, it is our very essence. Only a telepath may benefit from amplification, but even then, it needs to be tailored.”

The Engineer appeared fascinated: “But if physical machines can act upon psychical powers, does this mean that the precursors who invented them understood telepathy on a wholly different level? What kind of energy gets focused there and where does it come from?”

Zarjow chimed in, “Indeed, we do not understand telepathy yet and there are very few of us who are gifted with telekinetic aptitudes. All those supernatural abilities violate the laws of the physical universe.” He then paused, “Or, most probably, they follow their own rules we do not understand yet. Do you have any knowledge of those?”

Masking her anxiety with an ambiguous smile, Emberwing tried to mimic a Mizol: “We do have plenty of insight about those, ranging from legends pre-dating the Fall to the most recent scientific findings. I also understand that this information is something you want to obtain, therefore it shall be reserved for the technological exchange after an alliance is signed.” She then quickly added: “Besides, this is not something I’m particularly privy to, since it lies outside the competence of my caste.”


Zarjow reciprocated that smile “Let’s summarize what we’ve learned, only your and therefore our brain structure is capable of telepathy, but it’s not an ability that can be artificially recreated, only enhanced. Then, what were the Umiak doing with that device?”

“I guess those remnants were not a trophy, either?” pondered Steele, “We are not even sure that this ship had anything special on board. Their overreaction could’ve been triggered by something else.”

“The Shells do not take or display trophies. This would be an act of personal glorification that is foreign to them.” explained Emberwing. Since they could not get any other information or a different wreck, this one was the best lead there was for now.
She proposed a different approach: “Let’s have a look at the biological remnants. You said there was nothing Loroi on board, but how about other, non-Umiak traces?”

“Another telepathic race would be too much of a coincidence, don’t you think so, too? What we found matched the survivor’s biological layout. Also, while you may not believe us completely, there were definitely no Human remains, either.” answered Zarjow. Meanwhile, the holographic projector was showing a list of organic components. However, there was absolutely nothing else but Shell patterns. She tried to find some kind of anomaly in there, perhaps even a special breed, but to no avail.

This proved to be too much for a quick analysis, and xenobiology was not Emberwings specialty anyway. “Were you able to find something of significance?”

“Angela already had a good look at that and there was nothing out of the ordinary. Just shredded bugs, fried bugs, flash-frozen bugs and puréed bugs.” commented Steele.

“Too bad that the biochemistry is incompatible, otherwise we could’ve added that to the menu.” said Zarjow and the humans laughed.


Emberwing was not sure about the point of this joke. “What are bugs and what is the relation to food?”

“Bug is the common name for a huge group of non-vertebrae animals native to our planet.” The display switched to show a small creature vaguely similar to the upper part of an Umiak. “While they are not particularly pleasant to the eye, it is nevertheless an important source of protein, far more efficient than bigger farm animals.”

This was even more disgusting than those tiny, reddish critters the Delrias consumed raw as a snack. “You eat that?!”

The Operative tilted his head, “In some of our cultures, this one is a delicacy when fried. The protein paste I mentioned previously is derived from many sources, most of them being small maritime organisms, but also those land species. The replicators can print a great variety of dishes from those basic substances. Nowadays, the technology can produce facsimiles that are almost indistinguishable from the real ones.”

“Why would you resort to eating those vermin? Or going through the trouble to process it into fake food? Why not eat the real deal?” The Loroi was now utterly bewildered. Then she realized that despite the similarities, those were indeed aliens, hailing from a non-terraformed world with a diverse biome.

“It seems we’ve stumbled into a cultural shock. Humanity has been through some rough times that required efficient farming methods, and this was one of the solutions. Perhaps we should give you another history lesson to read.” offered Zarjow.

“I understand that the cuisine of an alien world is alien, too.” She recalled the Perreinid rations and the cylinder-shaped food that was supposedly made out of fermented squid, yet had a texture similar to jelly, save for its revolting color. It was a well-known fact among the other castes that the Mizol developed their poisonous tongues by consuming such toxic provisions. “The cultural information has to wait until we finish examining the debris.”


Yet, the examination of the Shell wreck was leading to a dead end. It did not answer the critical questions about the fleet-Lotai or that jamming field, even though the amplifier shard was an interesting discovery. Then, why and how could the Humans spot the Shells? If they were the template species, as they claimed, their telepathy should work on a similar principle and suffer from the same limitations.
Did this Operative try to distract her with gross food in order to avoid that question? “Let’s switch to a different perspective. You said that your farsight can detect the Shells, while ours cannot. How does your version actually work?”

“That’s not something I’m allowed to answer in detail.” Zarjow stroked his beard, “Although if I would hazard a guess, it should be quite similar to yours. To summarize it, several telepaths concentrate on a target while maintaining a link between them. By forming something akin to a telescope array, the resolution is improved and the range of detection can be magnified to reach across interstellar distances.”

“No, our Farseers work alone in a huge amplifier that helps them focus and filters background noise. Unfortunately, I do not know how they operated before amplification was discovered.” Emberwing wondered how a telepath could concentrate on a faraway target while maintaining a link with several others doing the same. It seemed like a very strenuous matter, far more what the Farseeres had to endure normally.

“To be at the focal point of a gigantic psi-magnifying glass sounds intimidating.” commented Steele.

Emberwing had to agree, “Yes, it is a great burden that the Farseers are carrying with honor.”

Zarjow was more interested in the technicalities: “You said that the great amplifiers limit psi-static, but can they perhaps shield minds from detection?”

“No, they cannot hide anyone or aid in telepathic jamming.” The information about the Shell Lotai they received with the last supply convoy included various theories to its cause and instructions about possible countermeasures they were supposed to try. The only thing it did was to exhaust the Farseers. The next Enemy attack came with no forewarning, and they lost three ships, including the command vessel. The strange interference they projected in the next and final attack was not even mentioned in the briefing.
That gave her another idea: “Was your impression of the Shells somehow different from other farseeing experiences?”

“A reasonable question which I’m unable to answer properly. First, we have so far only met two other aliens species, thus I cannot say what is normal or extraordinary with any margin of certainty.” The Operative began listing several points “Second, it’s impossible to express such concepts with speech, but we cannot share them directly. Finally, our techniques seem to differ, and we might need to try the other one out first in order to establish a point of reference.”


Emberwing sighed, “Finding something in this short amount of time had low chances of succeeding anyway.”

“Don’t be discouraged, this was a very meaningful exchange of information.” Steele encouraged her. “We just need more time, data and personnel.”

Indeed, they had to get back and share the information they gathered with the Union specialists. “We are none the wiser about the Hieararchy ploy, except that they might have found a new way to utilize amplifiers. Until we can find a way to circumvent that, your farseeing techniques that seem to defy that trick will be a boon to us. By the way, when will this ship arrive at Leido?”

“The next jump is planned for tomorrow, since we have things to prepare, but the rest of the schedule is...” began Zarjow.

“Classified, I know.” interrupted Emberwing.

He, however, grinned, “Actually, we might as well reveal it later. But for now, how about another history lecture? This one might explain a few things about us, including the food culture that you found disagreeable.”

Emberwing nodded, “Then, lead on.”

“Since you have already seen the Lounge, how about the arboretum?” offered Zarjow.

“That would be interesting, does it feature native flora?” asked the Loroi.

“It is a wonderful oasis of nature in the middle of this technological colossus. I’m sure that you will feel right at home in that fay garden.” assured her Steele. “But alas, I’m too busy with my machines to accompany you.”


After thanking the Engineer for his assistance, they walked back to the elevator. Emberwing was intrigued by the description, “Does this arboretum hold any cultural meaning? That particular word, fay, what does it mean?”

“This refers to a mythic creature, or simply to the entire garden being of otherworldly beauty. Steele grew up in an orbital habitat where nature was a rare and precious occurrence.” said Zarjow.

She tried to process this analogy, “Can I assume that his was a compliment?”

The Operative smiled, “Yes, to both you and to your entire race. The Soia made sure to elevate their masterpieces to the pinnacle of both inner strength and outside elegance.”

“I’m flattered by this assessment.” The eloquence made her blush, but was this perhaps a Mizol-like trick?

Zarjow chuckled, “Do not worry, traditionally, the task of courting beautiful aliens of the opposite sex is the privilege of the Captain, but he is married.”

Emberwing was not quite sure whether this was merely a joke, another compliment or an actual habit, similar to the practices of the Delrias.

Before she could ask further, the capsule arrived at its destination. The doors opened to reveal a strange mix of Deinarid woodlands with something that resembled Perreins’s equatorial jungle. Lush, dense vegetation grew in seemingly wild-looking, yet carefully balanced manner. Small footpaths, paved with white stone, led deeper into the greenery.

“How big is this deck?” wondered Emberwing, this was quite the luxury for a military ship.

“It’s smaller than it looks, since it uses multilayered holographic projections, climatic control and auditory tricks to achieve the illusion of a forest.” Zarjow beckoned her to take the right path, and they walked through the dense woods to arrive at a small clearing. Here, freshly cut grass swayed in the gentle breeze and a small platform stood out amidst the green carpet.


The Captain of the ship sat there in what appeared to be a contemplative position, as if guarding the garden. He stood up and turned to greet them in an official tone, “It seems I’ve been badmouthed already, but I assure you that I’m intent on honoring your status as a representative by keeping everything strictly professional.”
He then smiled and continued in a more relaxed way, “His statement was merely a joke, derived from an old fictional story about the adventures of a starship captain.”

“You have truly strange fantasies concerning the duties of a commanding officer.” said Emberwing. She knew of fictional entertainment, but the notion of male leadership, together with the idea of courting the females, was a truly alien concept. “Although, given that males are your predominant war-fighters, this must be an effective way to raise crew morale.”

Alexander Jardin laughed, “This tale predates star-flight by about two centuries. Even though it is still well-known among spacers, it is mostly remembered as a humorous anecdote.”

Even though the Loroi did not understand that particular sense of humor, she could agree that space-faring folk of every race would develop their own, distinct quirks. But what fascinated her more was that meditative stance, since it was strangely similar to Loroi ones. “Does that pose you assumed earlier serve any purpose?”

“This is called meditation, and it helps to clear our minds and focus on the inner self. Strangely enough, it was developed millennia before we discovered our telepathy. All kinds of supernatural abilities were rumored to be obtainable with its diligent practice, yet nothing of the sort ever surfaced. Relegated to be mere, well, mental exercise, it experienced a revival as it proved to be an excellent way to focus our telepathy.”

“You had those practices before telepathy? It is too similar to our own techniques to be a mere coincidence.” admitted Emberwing.

This was a cue for Zarjow “Not as surprising as it may look. After all, since our and your telepathy is related, its expressions and rites could be comparable as well. Maybe those legends of mystic powers were not completely fictional.”


Inspired by this analogy, Emberwing proposed something she considered too daring before, and stretched out her hand, “Then let us try close contact.”

Zarjow looked at her gesture and started laughing, “She adopts our customs way too fast! Now, she even asks for your hand!”

Bewildered, Emberwing also stared at her extended palm, “Does hand-holding have a special meaning in your culture?”

The other Captain was both amused and flustered, “Depending on the way the hands meet, this can have a multitude of meanings, ranging from a simple greeting to a proposal.” He then added, “And no, this is definitely the former, not the latter. This guy simply seized the chance to have a laugh at my expense.”

“I seem to have stumbled into a cultural pitfall. For us Loroi, touching in general is a private matter since it greatly enhances the telepathic link, and that’s what I intended.” She then realized her mistake: “But of course, since you awakened your psi-talents recently, your culture would interpret touching differently.”

“Then, let’s try shaking our hands as a means of greeting.” proposed the Human, and they both did exactly that.

The Loroi closed her eyes and tried to concentrate her powers, but there was absolutely nothing, not even the expected wall of a Lotai. She opened her eyes: “Did you feel anything?”

The Human also opened his lids, the eyes behind them briefly flashing with a subdued light, “Your hand is quite cold, but I could not sense anything beyond that.”

The Operative stated the obvious, “We already tried to contact you multiple times in vain, otherwise I would’ve stopped this attempt. Now that we demonstrated that we truly cannot read you, how about a tour?”

Disappointed, Emberwing could only agree. Together, they went around the arboretum and the Humans showed her the various climates of their homeworld. Unlike Deinar, this Earth had many continents with a wide variety of temperature and vegetation zones. A few of the plants and animals they showed as an example were somewhat familiar. Could they also be template species for Soia-Liron livestock? But if they had such a variety of lifeforms at their disposal, why would they resort to artificial food?
She turned to Zarjow “You offered me another history lecture, I would love to learn more about your planet.”

“That’s not a problem, you can have a seat over there.” The Captain pointed at a grove that simply disappeared, revealing a small pavilion equipped with recliners and data terminals. They stepped inside and the holo-projectors were reactivated, shrouding the view outside in an illusion of a forest. Then, the perspective shifted, and it looked like as if this abode was now floating above an endless sea of trees.
The Operative approached one of the consoles and reconfigured it. “This one will provide you with more information. If you need anything, simply ask Charon. We now have to excuse ourselves, since the Captain needs to prepare the ship for a little trick and I must work on contact scenarios with your Empire.”

Emberwing nodded, “Thank you for inviting me into this fay garden.”

[Cthulhu]

Intermission D: The Towers of Complacency

Following the sudden end of the undeclared and unexpected World War, Earth held its breath as Humanity tried to process the consequences. A significant number of already weak states crumbled, and even more were on the brink of collapse. The great empires rushed to provide assistance to their clients, not so much due to humanitarian, but purely selfish geopolitical reasons.

Still, they were not quick enough, and with the onset of the monsoon season, the region of South-Eastern Asia, being the first and most affected war theater, disintegrated entirely. Empowered by climate change, the weather was already a dire challenge in better times. With the lack of effective relief measures and the loss of central authority, no less than a billion people were now forced to flee from their ruined lands. Soon after, the other hot-spots followed suit.

A cataclysmic chain reaction of neighbors being overrun by the ever-growing refugee waves caused more countries to be driven to ruin. Finally, the superpowers were forced to deploy their troops. The masses were stopped, often with brute force, and corralled into gigantic camps. This, however, was a temporary measure since the people needed not only better accommodations, but also clean water and enough food. The fight against climate change was abandoned entirely, as the great nations were hard-pressed to provide the bare minimum of sustenance, not to mention the suppression of riots or outbreaks of disease.

Scrambling for a more permanent solution to this problem, one of the northern powers introduced, or rather, reinvented the old idea of the arcology. With modern technology, even such a huge structure could be built rather quickly and a fusion reactor would provide it with enough electricity. Additionally, it could also power many hydroponic farms or just algae tanks for independent food production. In the following years, a great number of arcologies were built all over the ravaged lands, bastions that resisted the siege of the elements. Offering little more than a small room and a food ration, they were nevertheless seen as a paradise at first. Many refugees could not even imagine this level of comfort compared with their pre-war slums.

Yet the most important invention that smoothed out the transition was the first compact full-immersion virtual reality system that was distributed in lieu of better entertainment. An adaptation of a military technology, it provided strikingly realistic illusions for a low cost, distracting the disenfranchised humans from their squalor. The industrious ones saw this as an opportunity instead, and an entirely new type of enterprise sprang up, rapidly producing virtual worlds to fulfill any kind of desire.

Realizing the benefits of the cost-effective accommodations that the arcologies could provide, the superpowers, strained through the relief efforts, started using them, too. At first, the great number of unemployed, who lost their jobs due to the ever-increasing speed of automation and were living off base income, could now move out of their concrete jungles into the new, futuristic homes. With more users populating the growing cyberspace, the economy also followed suit. Work, travel, entertainment, science and even consumption could be conducted virtually, with no need to waste as much energy as before or to pollute Earth with more trash. Thus, with its stigma of a human hive largely dispelled, the wealthier citizens also embraced the new habitats.

By the end of the century, almost the entire population was now living in arcologies, fleeing from the onslaught of the climate catastrophe. With this, Humanity entered a new Golden Age, as war, hunger, diseases or natural disasters were all but eliminated. Living securely in the colossal super-cities with no wish remaining unfulfilled or even feeling the need to step outside, most humans no longer cared about great challenges or conflict. Many spent their days crafting ever more elaborate virtual worlds, abandoning the devastated reality outside the walls completely. The second Space Age ended before it even began.

Buried in the Pyramids of a Cybernetic Age, fed by automated farms, provided for by robotic factories, watched over by AIs, lulled to sleep by VR and shielded from a ruined world, the weary Humanity slowly drifted into an artificial dream.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter IX: Challenge

This was a rather depressing read, how could an entire race retreat into a burrow? She could not imagine living like the Tithric, wriggling about in their confined nest-cities. No, that would be an unjust comparison. Unlike them, who were razed by Sunfalls righteous fury, the Humans managed to overcome whatever disaster they inflicted upon themselves. To be reforged by surmounting a challenge was a hallmark of a warrior species.
“Charon, is this view outside a representation of the human homeworld prior or after it was restored?”

The computer answered, “No, this is a panorama of pre-settlement Draconis.”

Emberwing asked: “Can you show me the current colony, then?”

The scene was altered to show the sea of trees now being dotted with gigantic silvery pillars, interconnected by long bridges. Some particularly high towers housed space elevators, linking them to orbital structures above. Those, in turn, were also interwoven and the threads that spanned between them held immense, semi-transparent solar collectors. This reminded her of Taben’s Shallows, a huge network of underwater Pipolsid habitats and Loroi aquaculture settlements on the surface. But, how big was this colony?
“Charon, can you tell me more details about this world?”

“As far as your clearance level permits.” The perspective shifted to an orbital one, showing the rotating planet beneath, but omitting the space-born structures. The surface featured three medium-sized continents, arranged like a claw, and numerous smaller island strewn about the mostly shallow seas. The silvery towers were everywhere, sometimes even sticking out of the oceans, and yet most of the forested surface seemed undisturbed. The computer listed various facts “Date of discovery: 2205, first settlement: 2212, current population as of 2293: 86 millions in 203 arcologies and 9 orbital habitats. Military data and the detailed timeline are classified.”

Fascinated, Emberwing inquired further, “Can you show me the homeworld?”

“This is the overview of Earth in the year 2080 at the beginning of the Cybernetic Age.” came the reply as the view switched again. The planet differed greatly from the schematic one the Operative showed her earlier. The atmosphere was slightly opaque, and the continents were tinted with brown and gray, not green. Even the vast oceans had a different color, a murky, greenish blue with many strange multi-hued streaks.


She heard someone approaching her sanctuary. “Ah yes, our ruinous folly.” A part of the panorama was deactivated to make way for Ellen Jardin who stepped inside. “It does not portray the full extent of it, however.”

The projection was restored and zoomed in on the coast of the northern out of the twin continents. Centering itself on the upper end of a long valley, the ruined landscape was visible from an aerial perspective in greater detail. What must’ve been a fertile basin, judging by the many dry river beds, was now barren desert. Strong winds, sweeping down from the mountains, covered the landscape in the haze of mighty dust storms. Numerous green dots of domed farms, as well as silvery pyramidal habitats, provided a stark contrast to the overall desolation.
“This is, or was California, one of the areas that was hard hit by the climate change even before the events described in the lecture. A bountiful agricultural region, it was ultimately lost to drought around the 2060s, but then revived in 2095 with the completion of the CAL-ARC. The construction took some time, but the effort was well worth the cost.”

She waved her hand, causing the picture to change. Now the valley was green again, covered by a gigantic transparent canopy. Many new towering habitats were supporting the protective layer, and the areas between them were filled with farmlands. “An oasis amidst the ravaged lands and the birthplace of my husband.”

Emberwing wondered why the Human would bring up her mate all of a sudden, but decided to use this opportunity: “I’m intrigued by this practice of pair-bonding, what does it actually mean?”

Ellen Jardin smiled, “It is a bastion of normalcy against an ever-evolving world. For us, marriage has been the norm for millennia, it survived all kinds of disaster and societal changes. While it is no longer the primary means to raise offspring, because children are raised communally, most humans still enter marriage to express their affection.”

“So you remain bound forever?” Emberwing remembered the old legends where a strong emotional bond between genders usually led to a catastrophe.

“In the ancient past, that would depend on the culture, but in modern times it can be dissolved if the pair wishes.” answered the Human, then grinned, “The main reason for a breakup is infidelity, for example.”

“I’m sorry! Are the females of your species perhaps territorial?” The Loroi began to understand why the Human mentioned her husband.

“Don’t worry, this was just a joke. Both genders take their commitment seriously, but jealousy has its limits.” laughed the Tactician.

“In our culture, pair-bonding is frowned upon and encounters are kept brief.” explained Emberwing.

“Well, with this strange male to female ratio, it could not work otherwise, but how exactly is this system kept stable?” inquired Ellen Jardin.

The Loroi briefly explained the caste system, the population control measures and the role of the males. “We consider the ratio natural for a warrior species, an important adaptation to maintain numbers or being able to limit growth through access to males.”

The Tactician pondered, “You said that the Loroi went feral after the Fall, but if you have 8 females for each male in such a primitive society, how can you enforce or even devise population control? It looks like a recipe for disaster, and such a species couldn’t have evolved naturally. This artificial adaptation needed a sophisticated, advanced civilization right from the start, and your race was most probably designed that way by the Soia. But tell me, how will you react to us, who may point out the holes in your logic by the mere virtue of our existence?”


This was a topic she never really contemplated upon. Being born into a traditionalist clan, raised on the old legends and trained for the war with the Shells, she did not have the time or inclination for such philosophical debates. But this was quite spot-on, the long “Reign of Chaos” period on Deinar was exactly that, a vicious cycle of population spikes that swept aside the budding civilization as hordes of nomads overran the early agricultural settlements.
Only the caste system managed to reign it in and led to the formation of the city states, the first step on the long way to reclaim their place among the stars. The system, however, was based on the ancient legends, and she couldn’t imagine it evolving naturally. Then, how did their ancestors come to be? The myths did not provide much insight about that, only citing the adaptations as a necessary step. It was implied that their ancestors improved themselves, but what if they were indeed based on this template?

She sighed and rubbed her nasal bridge, her only hope was that the first Union Commander the Humans would meet was not paranoid or traditionalist. The implications that the Loroi were not the true Soia, but merely a race created by them, could be devastating for morale.
After being silent for a mere heartbeat that felt a hundred times longer, she replied: “I understand that you must be anxious about an official contact with the Union, but I doubt that our similarity will be a problem right away.”

“I’m not especially anxious, but we are trying to establish relations in the middle of a war.” Came the retort, “Will the other Loroi believe us? Or will they see this undetectable ship crewed by oddly similar aliens as a Hierarchy trick? Initially, we planned for a far more cautious approach.”

Ellen Jardin was listing important concerns, and the Shell Lotai was still a mystery. She offered her assistance: “You have indulged my wishes, and I would like to help you with contact protocols. We do regard the spoken word with a certain amount of distrust, and your Lotai may arouse suspicion. But I must warn them about the Shell armada, and this will give us a certain amount of credibility.”

“We still have about three days until we will arrive at Rallis, this should give us enough time to work something out.” agreed the Human, then looked at her, “Pardon me for asking, but do the Loroi forego dressing up, since they have no males to impress? You haven’t even requested a change of clothing or some casual wear.”

“You dress up to impress the males? Is that part of a courting ritual?” Emberwing was confused, “I am a warrior, and therefore I wear the armor of my caste with pride.”

“We human females are said to be vain, and therefore we strive to improve our looks to impress the males, but also to intimidate rival females.” She giggled, “But mostly, it's done just for ourselves in order to feel pretty.”

“I see, we personalize our uniforms instead, and we let our hair grow, its length corresponding to our rank and honor.” While she considered herself on duty ever since her rescue, a uniform befitting her new rank would be a good idea. She explained the differences in design and requested the Soroin Torret armor.

“A field promotion, then? Good, this will give your position more weight. I’ll also add some casual wear.” promised the Human. “But for now, I will escort you to your cabin, since it’s already late. We shall jump tomorrow morning, and the Captain may require your expertise on the bridge.”

The arboretum was now simulating nighttime, and they walked through the moonlit garden back to the exit. The gown the Human was wearing shimmered in the light, and Emberwing had to agree that this was quite fitting, given her spoken name. As they entered the lift, she asked about the ship’s name, which nobody cared to explain yet. “What does the name Charon actually mean?”

Ellen Jardin answered, “This name was assigned in jest by Steele, after his ship was repurposed to be spent in a daring experiment, which it nevertheless survived. It has its roots in our mythology, Charon was the name of the ferryman who shipped the souls of the dead across the river Styx to the underworld.”

As Emberwing was pondering upon this coincidental, yet morbid symbolism, the lift arrived, and they entered her cabin. The Human explained the cabinet where clothes could be delivered to and wished her a good night.


Setting up the alarm, Emberwing went to sleep. As expected, she was back on her ship, walking along the empty, undamaged main corridor. Stopping before the massive blast doors of the main bridge, she braced herself for what may lie beyond and activated the controls. The gates opened to reveal a familiar picture, and the Captain of the Blazing Spear turned around in her command chair.

Moonblade stood up and spread out her arms, “Welcome back little sister, it seems that you are late for your shift. Have you slept well?”

Emberwing withstood her gaze, “No, I was plagued with doubt, but now I’m ready to relieve you as the Torret.”

“Oh, so the tiny Ember grew into a flame bold and bright enough to outshine the moon?” Her sister’s smile grew into a vicious grin, “I thought that you were too much of a coward to wear this heavy armor of command?” The specter that resembled her sister pointed at her chest.

Realizing that she was no longer wearing the Union uniform of a Soroin Mallas, but an ancient set of mail, Emberwing had no other choice but to follow the legend’s rehearsal: “I, Warrior Emberwing of the Starsword clan, challenge you for leadership!”

“THEN FACE ME!” The bridge changed into a true nightmare. A burned out husk, devastated by a plasma focus and opened to space, it offered a horrific sight. Her sister, now little more than a charred skeleton, fused with her strangely intact chair and grew in size, transforming into a gigantic, utterly alien monster. With a roar it released a beam of fire from its mouth and Emberwing was barely able to dodge.

“What are you!?” Screamed Emberwing while trying to get away from the flames. No such creature should even exist, but how was she supposed to fight it? As if responding to this plea, she felt a weight at her hip. Drawing what appeared to be a brilliantly white sword, she charged at the monstrosity. It tried to swipe at her with a clawed paw, but she counterattacked, and it retreated with a growl.

Angered by her resistance, the beast tried to project another fire breath. Wishing for something to block this, she managed to summon a white shield just in time. Protected from the attack, Emberwing rushed straight ahead and sank her sword into its chest. With a deafening roar, the bony beast crumbled to dust and disappeared.

The ruined bridge vanished, too, and she found herself standing on a pier. Her entire crew, but also Arrir Lightsail, Torret Silent Blade and even Lashret Truesword were assembled here in orderly ranks. Upon a command by her sister, who stood in front, they drew their swords and spoke as one: “All hail Emberwing, Warrior reborn!”


She opened her eyes and saw the ceiling of the unfamiliar cabin, waking up minutes before the alarm. The metaphor of this nightmare was somewhat understandable, it followed the legend of Warrior Vengeance, her clan's founder. The duel with the shade of her dead sister in the dreamscape was one of its main turning points, except that it wasn’t supposed to be against a strange creature, she couldn’t remember anything resembling it in the myths. Was this one meant to represent the burdens of command?
This was somewhat plausible, today she had to tackle yet another challenge and face the monstrous Khalkha divisions as the Commander of the 25th strike group yet again. After taking a shower and donning the new Torret uniform, she requested a meal and ate it quickly.

“Charon, I’m ready.” declared Emberwing, smirking at the allegory.

“Acknowledged, the jump is scheduled in 30 minutes.” answered the computer.

Soon after, the door opened, and the Operative stepped into the cabin, “Good morning, the Captain invited you to the bridge in order to observe the jump.”

Emberwing was eager to accept, “Of course, I’d love to see that classified trick of yours.”

Zarjow smiled, “Then follow me, please, and you shall not be disappointed.”

They walked over to the open elevator, where two of the huge guards were already waiting. The lift closed and accelerated almost imperceptibly. Emberwing decided to ask about the controls: “How do you operate the machines without direct input?”

The Human tapped his head, “While we were unable to achieve true man-machine interfaces, we devised a smaller, less invasive version that allows us to send simple commands the computers can interpret.”

“What a strange path of development to try and become one with machines, it is almost like what the Historians are doing.” replied the Loroi.

“You mean those personality constructs?” Zarjow shook his head, “It is a dead end we managed to avoid, because we discovered our birthright, telepathy, instead. No computer, no matter how advanced those Historians may be, can truly compare to this unity.”

The lift opened to a narrow hallway, and they walked towards a set of heavy doors ahead. Zarjow continued, “Although a deeper link with computers is sometimes advantageous, as you soon shall see.” He pressed his palm on the control surface and the incredibly thick doors opened to reveal a strange room.


The bridge was also round like a Loroi one, but it did not feature a holotank and was much smaller. About twenty humans were sitting along its periphery, laid in big recliners and wearing helmets that obscured their faces. A second, smaller ring of ordinary seats was centered around a holoprojector in the middle. Both Jardins, and a number of humans she did not know, sat there, eight in total. The Captain beckoned her to take a seat and she, as well as her companions, obeyed.

Alexander Jardin faced Emberwing: “I welcome you to my bridge, what do you think of it?”

She looked at the low ceiling, then at the helmeted humans and replied, “It’s more compact than our bridges, but what task do those crewmembers have?”

“That's what I meant by a deeper link.” answered Zarjow “They are suspended in a virtual reality and can control parts of the ship through it. We in the middle are in charge of the vessel as a whole and give them telepathic orders.”

The Loroi tried to sense anyone in the room, but it was utterly silent, as if all those humans were mere robots. “So, are they not telepathic, but you can send to them without problems?”

The Tactician nodded, “Yes, we can read our own just fine, even if the majority of our race is not psi-enabled. Normally, the bridge is quiet, but we can comment on whatever is happening for your convenience.”

Alexander Jardin typed something into his console, and the station before her was activated. “I’ve configured it to give you an overview, additionally, the holoprojector can give you more insight. If you want to know something, ask Zarjow.”
He then addressed everyone: “Five minutes until we jump into a potentially hostile system. Buckle up and perform the last checks!”

Zarjow, who sat to her right, showed how to activate the harness and then pointed to the tactical display on her console: “The Umiak fleet that jumped a day ago is here, which should give us more than enough room.”

The tactical view showed the dim, yet humongous red giant in the next system. Its bloated form and gravitational disturbances created an irregular gravity well, shifting the safe jump zones far away from the center.

Normally, it would take about 10 days to cross it, but why did the Tactician say 3? “How fast is this ship?”

“It operates in the range of 20g for optimal energy efficiency, but it can go faster if the need arises.” answered the Human.

Emberwing did not mean the normal modes of operation, however: “But what about its maximum speed?”

“Well, maybe a bit more?” The Operative smiled jovially, “I understand what you want to ask about, but please, be patient.”

“Commencing jump!” exclaimed one of the humans.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter X: Deception

“Jump successful, compiling sensor data!” announced one of the Humans. The holoprojector in the middle came to life and displayed the new system. There wasn’t much to see, since the dying red star consumed all of its planets, save for the cores of two outlying gas giants. The most important thing was the colossal Enemy force on its course to the Rallis jump point. Judging from the information the overview provided, the Shells should be able to reach it in about 7 days. The fleet was still accelerating with full force, stretching into a gigantic arrow with a long tail consisting of tankers and transports.

Zarjow began explaining: “Soon, the Umiak will spot us and then try to initiate contact with this unknown vessel. We are well outside their range, and it’s unlikely that they may attempt to intercept us unless we head to the other jump point. But since it will take some time to prepare the major trick, we’ll try to stall them with a minor one just in case. The Captain worked long and hard on this play, and he is quite proud of his prank.”

“Hey, no spoiling the surprise!” said the Captain, “Xarnamath Mysvaleer commands thee!”

Emberwing was somewhat bewildered by those weird-sounding words, “Who or what?”

The Tactician shook her head, “That’s just a fictional person he invented for the Hierarchy commander to speak with. Due to the lightspeed delay, we can create a far more elaborate virtual overlay for the comm channel.”

“Ah, you mean like the one you tried with the scout before? But that did not work out and honestly, I think that’s a ridiculous idea to begin with. The Shells may be single-minded, but they are not stupid.” The Loroi could not believe that such an obvious deception would help them in any way.

“I appreciate your spot-on tactical analysis, fellow Captain, but it’s not meant to mislead them for long. We simply do not wish to reveal our true forms, especially since the Umiak are not fools, just as you said. They may realize that we are the template species and this could trigger an all-out attack.” Alexander Jardin eyed her with an impish smile, “Yet chiefly, it’s there to force them to doubt whether we are really what we’ll claim to be after the second stage is initiated.”

“Then what exactly is this trick that you want to perform?” Emberwing was tired of the Humans avoiding the topic.


“Let’s start from the beginning.” began Zarjow, “Some time ago, we found the wreckage of an ancient ship with quite the peculiar configuration of the common starfaring equipment. Based on the technological examples, a new generation of jump drives was developed shortly after and this ship was built to test one of its prototypes.”

“We created our first jump drives based on a similar find. But does that mean that you had those prior to this discovery?” inquired Emberwing.

Zarjow nodded “Yes, we developed them on our own, nevertheless, the wreck helped us out immensely. It led to an invention previously thought to be impossible. Do you know how reactionless drives work?”

“Not really, the only example of those is the Illusion Drive the Historians use. There are numerous assumptions about how it may operate, but so far, none of the theories managed to explain it properly. They refuse to share this technology with us, citing security concerns because they claim that any engine failure will result in catastrophic damage.” Emberwing was not particularly knowledgeable about this topic. Besides, the supposed allies were not forthcoming with information, declaring that the drives were not only highly unstable unless mastered fully, but also simply too advanced for them to copy.

“So those Historians do not like to share information, it seems. I do not know whether ours follow similar principles, but they are not particularly dangerous. As soon as we were able to understand the way the alien ship’s machines worked, this vessel was refitted to test an early prototype. However, the new engine proved to be extremely inefficient at first, and it took us quite some time to fine-tune it.” Zarjow stopped with his lecture and looked at his console. “It seems the Umiak have sent us a greeting and its even free of malware, how civilized of them.”


The ugly head of a Shell commander appeared in the holoprojector, and the weird auto-translation, combined with the disgusting chattering of its native language in the background, made her shudder in revulsion:

“[Hierarchy fleet] finds it urgent to inquire/is required to know about the vessel, that is not known, that is not recorded, that appeared here [where it is/was not expected].
“We hereby wish to/deign it necessary to engage in [Trade-algorithm-based exchange of information], to learn about the incoming ship purpose/affiliation. We must announce that any chances of aiding the Enemy have to be nullified and that passage will not be allowed.”

Alexander Jardin frowned: “This translation is giving me a headache. I have no idea if this is supposed to be polite, threatening, or perhaps impatient. At least it seems that they want to talk first and decide whether to shoot later. Then, let’s give them something to think about.”


The projection was replaced with an image of a strange, dim room filled with a misty atmosphere. A hooded figure, placed in the middle of a phosphorescent circle, looked up to reveal a glowing red pair of eyes. Faint outlines of its facial structures glistened and seemed to shift in the weird, off-color purplish lighting. It opened a vertical slit-like mouth filled with sharp teeth and began speaking in a whistling voice, accentuating some words by warbling them, repeating what the Captain was saying:

“We have always been Darlok, represented (here) and (now) by Xarnamath Mysvaleer. We have no business with the (younger) races or their (games) and our purpose for being here is (beyond) your understanding. Regard us as a (shadow) haunting this graveyard. (You) shall pass, and I will remain, as we always have.”


“Now, this ought to give them a headache in turn.” The Captain smirked, then spoke to his crew: “Bring all generators to full power, begin re-configuring the jump cores and the main drive according to the plan.”

Emberwing tried to remember whether there were any aliens resembling this one in the legends or databases and realized that it was indeed purely fictional. The level of detail was astonishing, was this an example of the virtual worlds she read about? But why would they need the hyperspace drives? “What happens now and what is the role of the jump field generators?”

Unperturbed, Zarjow continued with his lecture, “After the reactionless engine was finally considered space-worthy, this ship was refitted yet again in order to investigate how the most puzzling machine from the wreck may have worked.”

“Was this the daring experiment you talked about before?” Emberwing interrupted him impatiently.

“Indeed it was.” Zarjow agreed with a nod, “Although the device, being made out of a material we cannot even manufacture, proved to be beyond our means to replicate, the study of the fields it generated was quite insightful. Since we could not copy the appliance itself, we tried to understand how it operated and what it was supposed to do by creating several facsimiles that would simulate its effects as we understood them. Seven ships, equipped with the various prototypes, or rather, our best guesses, tried to test them in the field. Six ships were destroyed, but this one managed to survive. Well, at least no lives were lost due to them being AI-controlled.”

“That sounds utterly reckless!” exclaimed the Loroi. Trying to power up completely unknown technology or attempting to copy it for a live test was insane. Even the desperately fast development of the pulse cannons was based on detailed Historian blueprints.

Zarjow acknowledged her remark “Well, we found such an interesting toy to play with, and quite naturally, got overly excited over it. The previous two successes may have made us overconfident, too. While the true purpose of the alien contraption remained elusive, the data the experiments provided were quite insightful. This knowledge will help us out now.”

The Captain commented on that: “For example, Steele thought that it might be something which could enable a vessel to safely submerge itself in negative hyperspace, acting like a cloaking device. Hence, the name of this ship he came up with.”

“Since one of the ships simply disappeared without any jump flashes or explosions, it might have succeeded, but since it failed to resurface, we’ll never know for sure.” remarked the Tactician.

“Are you trying to repeat the same here?! I think that even a long jump would be less risky.” protested Emberwing. A Farseer’s Mizol caretaker once explained to her that a crew’s lifesigns seemed to disperse after a failed jump would cause the ship to fall through the realspace boundary. A most horrible way to die, with no mythological ferryman to pick up the lost souls.

The Captain smiled to assuage her: “No, even I am not crazy enough for that.”

“Actually, he is. At any rate, we’ll do something that involves less risk, but requires a tremendous waste of energy instead.” His bonding partner pointed at the projector. “Here, your new friend sent another message, let’s see if it bought your masquerade.”


The image of the same Shell, even though they looked all the same to her, appeared in the middle:

“The Hierarchy does not know of Darlok, did not have contact with Darlok, does not recognize Darlok.
We ask/demand to identify yourselves/state your affiliation, this [great undertaking] of ours cannot be interrupted, cannot be postponed, must succeed, [no one must escape our sight], all must yield to the [great undertaking].
Yet when the situation is abnormal/unexpected, we find it prudent/are guided to resolve [abnormality] by talking, because communication is cheaper than [acts of ensuring harmony] that may otherwise resolve [abnormality], because it can resolve unexpected [abnormality] to ensure following of greater guidance.”


“This translation style is somewhat different and less elaborate compared to the pattern that the scout used.” pointed out the Tactician, “It also sounds angry, maybe they are torn between conflicting sets of orders?”

Emberwing shared her own strategical insights: “The Shells must be on a tight schedule to attack Leido from multiple vectors and your ship is a very unwelcome distraction that appeared at a particularly inconvenient time. But what did it mean by sight?”


“Let’s fish for some more information, then.” The Captain began formulating his reply through the virtual construct:

“Darlok have no (need) for acknowledgments from the passing sparks of life. Our (presence) here is as much coincidence to you, as it is (not) to us. We are (watching), but not (interfering), because we are the (mourners), not the (harvesters). We are not permitted to take sides, but allowed to (partake). Continue with your conquest that is the beginning of a new end, as it always has been.”

Following the Captain's gesture, the Darlok puppet raised its six-fingered, clawed hand from under the folds of its robe and pointed it at the viewer.

“Yet, rejoice that your stolen (perception) cannot see our true forms that are not meant to be seen in this era. For we have (gazed) into the Abyss, and it sees through us. Yearn, struggle, aspire! Arise to the greatest (heights) and only then, may you fall to the depths of (Knowledge) where we shall await thee.”


He closed the channel and then rubbed his chin. “Good, this should be vague enough to confuse them, maybe to a degree where it could cause a slip.”

Emberwing tilted her head, “Do you really think that they have some sort of Farsense?”

The Human Captain shrugged, “It’s a guess, but they did sound agitated, babbling something about sight and an unexpected encounter. I’m just speculating that the Umiak might have copied or emulated some of your abilities and that they are confused why it cannot sense us. Well, let’s begin with the highlight of this play. For this, we are going to reverse common sense.”

Emberwing smirked, “Don’t count on mine, it's utterly destroyed.”

“Blame Zarjow, he really likes his mind games. No, what I mean is that we will use the jump cores to propel us in realspace and the actual drives to act as additional inertial dampeners.” Alexander Jardin reciprocated her smile.

“But using the jump drives without the proper outbound vector would cause the ship to fall into the star, or even worse, into negative subspace!” The Loroi could see the destruction of not only common sense, but also of the entire ship.

“You are right, of course, but we are not suicidal. By pulsing the jump drives in a specific pattern that we have now finished deducing, a ripple in space will be generated around the ship.” The Operative wiggled his hand “It shall carry us with a speed befitting of that mysterious elder race the Captain invented.”

“Let us begin!” Following the Captain’s orders, the ship began to vibrate, producing a faint, disharmonious whisper. “That’s not good enough, synchronize the 2nd core and increase the power for the fifth and sixth grav-mast by 11 percent!”

The murmur changed its frequency and increased in volume. Now, turning into something akin to a melody, it caused everything around her to hum in a strange manner. “Why is the ship singing?” wondered Emberwing.

“That’s the gravitational interference of the red giant, as far as I can explain, but we’ve accounted for it. The preparations are now complete and we can proceed. Engage!” commanded the Captain.

Following a strange sensation, that felt like the ship was about to lurch forwards in a most violent manner, nothing seemed to happen. The previously thundering music decreased in intensity and became harmonious, but almost imperceptibly quiet. “Now, that’s what I call a ride!” commented the Captain.

Emberwing looked at the tactical display on her console and, judging by its data, the ship accelerated to nearly a quarter lightspeed almost instantly. She was sufficiently impressed: “This is fascinating, even the Historian ships are unable to display this level of performance!”

The Tactician put a damper on it: “Fascinating, yes, but it’s still a highly experimental technique. This requires a lot of preparations, puts a great amount of stress on the machines, but most importantly, it consumes an awful amount of fuel.”

Alexander Jardin grinned, “You forgot about the constant danger of catastrophic failure that may catapult us into the star or cause the ship to plunge into the underworld of negative hyperspace!”

“Don’t remind me of that, but this should get us way ahead of the Hierarchy fleet to the opposite jump point.” Ellen Jardin smiled wearily in turn.

“They will be furious, but it's impossible for them to intercept us now, at least without compromising their assault plans. We can overtake them on a secure roundabout course in less than half a day.” Zarjow stroked his beard, “Let's see how they will respond to our show, we are receiving another transmission.”


Emberwing had the feeling that this was a different Shell, perhaps because it seemed to be a shade darker?

“The one that is Ixitixil-Kittikik-tikkikal-16, [The one that brings order] as commander, wishes to address the Darlok and inquire about their purpose/goal to avoid further [unpleasantness], to inform them of the [accursed Enemy] presence in the next system, to warn them of the danger of the [Witchcraft], to warn them of interference.
We wish no conflict with Darlok, but no interference must be allowed, nothing shall spoil the odds.
We are asking/requesting the unknown ship to postpone/stop its journey until we achieved victory, until better times for better relationships are secured, until the [space] is free from [mind-terror].”

“I guess this one is the equivalent of an Admiral? It sounds more refined and polite, yet stern. But unfortunately for him, we cannot stop now, can we. Let’s give him a proper explanation for this enigmatic encounter with the Darlok.” The Captain activated the overlay:

“Our journey is a (pilgrimage). It was scheduled beyond your reason and yet, you may become one of its reasons. We (sang) with the lost souls of this star, and we shall sing in the next. The decisive (clash) is a turning point that may lead to a new era, and we shall be there to watch over it.
We are not interested in contacts, conflicts, alliances or (interference). The lost (sword) of the ancients cannot target us, their fledgling (song) is powerless against those who are (chanting) in the old ways.
But be warned, your wanton attempts to (hide) your tune from the Universe is a sacrilege to our un-Brothers that prefer to sing the melody of (death), instead of listening to the (memories) like us.”

Now, many more glowing eyes appeared around the lone figure and all aliens spoke together in unison:

“The Harvesters of Sorrow are not bound by our cursed Oaths,
they refused to follow the sacred Commands
do not catch their Attention
beware of their Madness
do not earn their Ire
avoid becoming part of their Game!”

They closed their eyes and the figure in the middle said: “Farewell.”


“That was a bit heavy on the dark and mysterious side, I wonder if you overdid it.” mused the Tactician, “A warning about their telepathic cloaking was a nice touch, though.”

Alexander Jardin stretched in his seat, “Yes, it was a bit different compared to the strategic games we usually play. While I don’t think that this ominous speech will do much, one can at least hope that it confused them a bit. I do have additional ideas pertaining to that. Anyway, we have about two days of relative time until the next jump and a lot of tasks to complete.”
He then turned to the Loroi: “You offered to help us with contact protocols, how about doing that right away? There’s little else to do while the ship is in transit.”

“Certainly, I would be happy to help smooth out the negotiations.” agreed Emberwing.

[Cthulhu]

Intermission E: The Thing that should not be

The old High Priest was slowly climbing the ancient steps that led to the sanctuary. His tired legs were not quite up to the task, and this reminded him of the necessity to select a successor from among his disciples. The god he served was also very old, being featured in some of the most ancient legends. Do gods even age? Such a blasphemous thought flashed briefly in his mind. Compared to the time of Myths, the deity was indeed contacting its priesthood less often. But this was seen as an acknowledgment, a sign that the difficult times were over and that the faithful were steadfast in their pursuit of enlightenment.

Having ascended to the last platform, he entered the shrine that overlooked the Vestige and sat down facing the altar. The solemn chamber, bathed in the light of the morning sun, was as tranquil as ever and its walls whispered of the hallowed song. He ignited the incense burners and began to chant a prayer in order to detach his mind from the mundane. Joining in with the celestial hymn, he dived into the otherworldly experience of linking up with another, higher plane of existence. The Transcendent One was dreaming, as always, and its dreams encompassed everything and everyone, permeating reality, defying all limits.

Even as God slept, it still cared for its followers, allowing the priesthood to tap into its slumbering powers, to partake of the omniscience its earthly manifestation provided. Countless thoughts, schemes, secrets and wishes were laid bare before its High Priest, and he scrutinized them carefully. Although the Deity loved everyone, its earthly servants could not afford to display the same level of forgiveness. This was their order’s infamous burden and holiest of duties, to judge mortals by mortal laws, and the priest made various mental notes as the sacred trance showed him what he was permitted to see.

The western peninsula was yet again in turmoil and its squabbling lords were preparing for the inevitable war, biding their time, waiting for an opportunity to lash out and fulfill their dreams of dominion. In the east, another secret cult was spreading like a disease. The heretics, supported by a particularly insidious and power-hungry merchant prince, were trying to undermine the true faith. In the south, the nomad clans were ripe for a unification that needed to be prevented at all costs. All this, and more, were things that the church needed to intervene in, a never-ending quest to maintain order and prosperity.

Suddenly, the God stirred in its sleep, and this allowed the meditating cleric to dive deeper. Rejoicing at the chance to receive a Vision, he steeled his mind against the mental onslaught. Ideas, images, possibilities of things that may come, and infinite mysteries joined together in a torrent that he had to endure. This amount of information was impossible for a mortal mind to process, and many priests paid the price for their hubris with their sanity. Instead, he picked up the clearest impression that he perceived and used it as a guiding light to collect more information about this single topic only. The insight was truly ground-breaking, and it would certainly help them with many pressing matters.

He woke up from the vision and found himself sprawled out on the prayer mat. The intricate windows, decorated with stained-glass images of legendary scenes, were now burning with the light of a new sunrise. Aching from having spent the night in such an uncomfortable pose, he nevertheless bowed, grateful for the guidance he received. This needed to be delivered to the temple’s scribes right away, before he could forget any of the numerous details. The High Priest got up, straightened out his vestments and turned around to begin his overdue descent.

The wide platform before the shrine was not empty, however. Most of the temple’s acolytes and scribes were already assembled there and knelt in prayer facing the ornate doors. One of the senior disciples stood up and greeted him, eager to explain how she felt that the Elder received a vision and then convinced everyone to walk up the holy path to meet him. The High Priest chuckled, she was indeed a shrewd one and probably the best successor to replace him. Thanking her for the display of devotion, he began explaining the holy gift he received.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter XI: Preparations

Getting out from his seat, Alexander Jardin beckoned his guest to follow him. Zarjow and the female guard also stood up to join them. Together, they left the bridge and walked down the corridor. Still intrigued, Emberwing wanted to know more about this propulsion system: “You said that you pulsed the jump field generators continuously? This would require an incredible amount of energy.”

The Captain agreed, “Yes, but this ship was equipped with as many as eight massive battleship-class reactors in order to power the extremely energy-hungry prototype of the reactionless drive. The engines are now far more efficient, but the generators remained, since they were superseded by a newer version. We decided to reveal to you that this trick is not our normal means of propulsion, yet a useful, if somewhat difficult, way to get out or past trouble. Anyway, it was not meant for such a prolonged use, and we might need to refuel from your depots later on.”

“I think that this can be arranged for, and I will certainly vouch for you.” assured Emberwing. They entered the conference room that she recognized as the one where she met the Captain for the first time, and they took seats around the table.


Zarjow began explaining what they needed to do: “We have three major problems that we have to address before we meet your people in an official way. First, our conspicuous similarity, then, our apparent telepathic incompatibility and finally, the unfortunate coincidence of the Umiak displaying some sort of newfound mental shielding as well. Let’s start with our resemblance, while we were able to mask our true forms from the Hierarchy, we can’t do the same with the Union if we are to forge a treaty. How will the Loroi Empire react to the implication that we are your template species?”

Emberwing tried to process the numerous variables as quickly as she was able to, and then realized how difficult the job of the Mizol caste actually is. Instantly denying the very notion of this, she began to illustrate the matter from the point of view of a proper warrior: “This idea or rather, theory, of a template is actually a very niche one. Only a few, particularly odd Loroi entertain such beliefs in the first place and even less of those are promoted into commanding positions. We consider us the true descendants of the Soia, thus the conjecture of you being the template will be met with significant resistance. On the other hand, we also need as many allies as we can get, especially if you can provide aid or even send ships. Your ability to see past the Shell lotai can also be a particularly important boon for our war effort. Therefore, our government will most likely postpone dealing with this issue for the duration of this war and suppress any troublesome rumors.”

Alexander Jardin nodded, “I see, the gains can certainly outweigh the problems that our appearance may create. The topic about sending ships or sharing technology would have to wait until after we signed an alliance, however. Then what about the telepathy issue? We appear to be impervious to your abilities.”

“This might be a bigger problem since the implied usage of a lotai will be seen with suspicion. We Loroi value truthfulness precisely because our sanzai is inherently honest and our warrior traditions value frankness in conversation. This translates to the fact that the spoken word, which lacks this important quality, is regarded with a certain amount of distrust. A separate caste, the Mizol, are our diplomats who are trained in spoken conversations with aliens.” Emberwing omitted that they were even better trained in telepathic tricks, or what the warrior castes thought about them and their ways. “Trying to shield one’s mind with a lotai and then resorting to speech is normally regarded as either preparing to pull off some sort of trickery or demonstrating that the other side is likely to try to exploit the telepathic link for an attack. It is not a problem for long-range communication, but it will be an issue in a meeting. Normally, such means of contact were reserved for conflicts only, and were used to deliver a stern warning or an outright challenge.”

“Even though you are not a Mizol, you are very eloquent in Trade” said the Human Captain, “I understand the cultural significance of telepathy for the Loroi, but why should speech not be enough for others, since it is the primary means of communication for most species? Doubting the spoken word on principle would make diplomacy with non-telepathic aliens a nightmare, since relations between governments normally require a certain level of secrecy or even misdirection.”

The Loroi dismissed the compliment: “All warriors are expected to be fluent in Trade, because ship operations require long-range communication. Unlike the Mizol, we do not bother with the intricacies and prefer to be as clear and brief as possible.” Then, she added: “However, if we are speaking with aliens face-to-face, we can read some of their surface thoughts and emotions, thus gauging their intentions or sensing attempts at withholding information. Most Loroi are somewhat uncomfortable with this, and therefore outside contacts are usually conducted by Mizol.” She did not even bother to explain the problems regarding the clash of competencies that resulted from this foul compromise.

“I see, but with us, you won’t be able to cheat in such a convenient way. This will be quite the handicap for your diplomats.” Alexander Jardin smirked, “Combined with our looks, we shall be seen as a challenge anyway? Then, let’s go with that line of thought, shall we! If you describe yourselves as a warrior race, then how about a battle of wits, but on our terms?”


A psi-immune race would be quite a novel experience, and combined with their looks, could cause a great deal of confusion. Emberwing did not believe that a strategy of confrontation could help here, although the idea of humbling the Mizol would be an amusing one. “The problem is that you won’t be seen as an equal or a warrior, since you will be recognized as a male.”

Zarjow glanced at his Captain and chuckled, “That’s because you got rid of your beard, no proper Captain can be awe-inspiring without its magnificence.”

The beardless Captain shook his head, “That won’t change anything and besides, Ellen said that she doesn’t like it.”

“Does facial hair have any cultural significance related to command duty?” somewhat confused, Emberwing wanted to know more about that cultural habit.

“In old times, as ships meant seaborne sailed vessels and the crews were male only, beards were very common.” The Operative stroked his facial hair, “They could protect the face against the salty wind and gave the wearer the proper look of a seasoned seaman. Nowadays, it's just fashion.”

Emberwing tried to imagine the captain of a sailing ship, which conjured the image of a Beleri pirate looking somewhat similar to Emerald Wing, except for a long and intricately braided beard. She dispelled this silliness, “It’s not the facial hair that matters, but the fact that you are a male. For us Loroi, males are a rare and precious existence that needs to be protected. The idea of a male being a warrior or even a commander and then him trying to challenge anyone would be rather amusing instead.”


The conversation was interrupted by Ellen Jardin who walked in: “You’re saying that he won’t be taken seriously because of his gender? Don’t worry, he will make anyone regret underestimating him. But for now, he needs to have a meal.”

The Operative looked at his Captain, then they nodded and got up, with the guard joining them. The Tactician asked the Loroi: “You said that you require only a single meal per day, but do you need a break?”

She shook her head, “Not really, I would like to continue, since we still have many things to do.”

“Good, then I shall take over the shift since I’ve already eaten.” Ellen Jardin squinted at her mate, “Also, you can regrow your precious beard, if you think this will help to impress our cousins.”


After the others left, the Human woman smiled, “Will the Loroi truly have such a problem accepting male leadership? Or should I play the part of the commanding officer to smooth out the negotiations?”

“Starting out with deceit would not make for a good first contact. Deception in conflict, like you did with the Shells, is another matter entirely, but not among prospective allies. I do not think that this particular issue would be a major one. Despite our similarity, you are still aliens and thus are not subject to Loroi cultural conventions.” While Emberwing realized that habits were hard to overcome, she thought that any proper commander should possess the integrity to suppress them with conscious effort. “Instead, we must focus on the last point your Operative brought up, that of the Enemy’s farsense jamming. Have you sensed anything unusual about the Shell fleet?”

“If by unusual, you mean compared to the scout ship or any other sightings, then no. We probed the Hierarchy fleet in every conceivable way, but found nothing extraordinary. While it is extremely difficult to discern anything specific among the countless Umiak, we are pretty sure that there is nothing else but those bugs on board.” The Tactician looked up and down “Other variables, like resolution or sensitivity, appear to be the same, too. Granted, we do not have as much experience regarding farseeing, and we are unamplified, thus we might miss out on some fine details.”

Emberwing sighed, “I had hoped that we could at least obtain some sort of a clue as to how they managed to overcome our farsense. Your appearance, combined with your telepathic immunity, and the Shell’s newfound ability that you can somehow see through, all that is too much of a strangely timed coincidence to be easy to dismiss.”

“Zarjow theorized that it might be something meant to counteract your Soia-made version of telepathy, perhaps even based on their technology examples. After all, they would need to have some security measures in order to keep their creations in check.” Ellen Jardin touched her temple, “Now, he says that this might have been insufficient against our original abilities, thus forcing the Soia to stunt us completely instead.”

“The amplifier piece!” Emberwing was startled, “You mean that it was from a Soia device used to block telepathy? Nothing like that was ever unearthed or even mentioned in the legends. I am sure that amplifiers could not even work that way and besides, why would our ancestors stun their own capabilities?”

The Human shrugged, “But were your ancestors truly masters or perhaps subordinates? As I said before, since your race seems to be tailored for some unknown purpose, and we are its template, who created you, then?”

“All our legends speak of us being the rulers!” protested Emberwing.

“Then what about legends of your origins? You should have myths about a long history of your race’s development and the creation of a vast star empire.” Ellen Jardin pressed on, “Earth is definitely our homeworld, but how about yours, then?”


The legends did not provide any clue about its whereabouts. It was obvious that there must be a forgotten homeworld somewhere, but it was never mentioned or even hinted at. “Sadly, many of our legends were lost during and after the Fall, it is likely that this information was lost as well.”

“A very convenient omission indeed. However, the two things must not necessarily contradict each other, perhaps you rose to the top and overthrew your creators, assuming overall control of the Empire?”

“The only conflict the legends speak of is the Fall, but this is believed to be the result of a clash between opposing factions. Which were, of course, comprised out of our ancestors, even though the cause of the rift itself is unknown. This is further proven by the fact that the first Loroi planet-side settlements were created after the Fall. The Barsam and Neridi, but also two other, now extinct, Soia-Liron races, had colonies long before that. Deinar, the main out of the three sister worlds, was a mozeret colony that was eradicated by orbital bombardment, for example. The Loroi that were forced to land on the devastated world were unable to maintain civilization.” Emberwing provided a summary of what she knew about the Fall.

The other woman tilted her head to the right, “Or your ancestors were the ship’s crews, deemed far too dangerous to allow them any rights for a settlement. The overseers could have used the aforementioned psi-cloaking to shield themselves from them.” She then tilted her head to the left, “Or those were a weapon in that faction war, intended to hide fleets to perform ambushes, for example.”


Emberwing recalled what she knew about amplifiers and their usage: “While psi-warfare is not my specialty, I know what farseer-class amplifiers can and cannot do. Their primary usage is increasing sensitivity and eliminating disturbances. The only other purpose would be a modification that could allow for an interstellar sending between farseers only. This is rarely used, however, since it is very risky, but also incredibly difficult to do.”

Ellen Jardin nodded, “Thank you for this insight. Then, if you have a specific word for a mind-shielding method, the lotai, perhaps it can be amplified, too?”

“Normally, lotai works on a purely personal level, instead of jamming telepathy, it merely cloaks our own signature by forcibly suppressing all kinds of telepathic leaks and strengthens the shields against any outside sanzai.” But the Humans exhibited something else entirely, she thought, “Your psi-incompatibility is completely different, since the use of conventional lotai can be sensed, especially upon touch. I’m merely using this word due to a lack of a better term.”

The Human was intrigued: “Then how do we actually feel in a telepathic sense? I’m trying to reach out to you right now, but it is like sending to a wall.”

“It’s the same on my end, there’s absolutely no signature that I can perceive.” Emberwing shook her head.


“Then, let’s try this hand-holding, albeit in a purely professional manner.” Ellen Jardin smiled and offered the Loroi her outstretched hand. “I’m more sensitive to this matter than my husband.”

Her palm was very smooth and warm, but there was nothing, neither the refusal of a lotai nor the weird buzzing of active interference. The human woman clenched her fist and closed her eyes as if to concentrate. After a moment, she opened them again, and her irises were now glowing with psionic energy. Strangely enough, the light was not that of her eyes’ original color, but it seemed to shimmer in multiple hues instead, growing in intensity. Fascinated by this sight, Emberwing did not even register a very faint humming before her vis-à-vis stopped her attempt and let go of her hand.

Emberwing blinked in confusion, did she merely imagine that noise? Apart from this, she did not feel any pressure or prodding, not even a tingle of electricity typical for a contact. Perhaps this was indeed merely the anticipation of a powerful surge, given how hard the alien tried. “I could not sense any difference, it seems that we are truly incompatible, although I have no idea why.”

“Sharing information with telepathy is indeed more efficient, but we have to do it the old-fashioned way for the time being.” The Tactician smiled faintly, “Let’s get back on topic, are there any other techniques that might jam or hinder your abilities?”


The Loroi compared what she knew of the advanced Mizol techniques with the Shell fleet-lotai: “Only a single one I know of, a particularly skilled telepath may attempt to fill an area with psi-static in order to inhibit enemy communications. This interference is impossible to amplify with farseer equipment, since they would simply filter it out. Besides, it’s a dangerous thing to do, both for the sender and everyone nearby, thus it's usually limited to short bursts.”

“I would guess that the Umiak are doing something else, then? Constantly having to endure a background noise would be maddening.” Ellen Jardin frowned at that.

“Yes, our Farseer had no time to properly investigate the phenomenon, but it was a completely unfamiliar means of blocking her long-range abilities only. Our interpersonal telepathy was not affected, although we did not test out if it had any other less noticeable effects, like limiting range or bandwidth.”

“Does this mean that there’s a known way to block telepathy altogether, then?” The Human leaned in.

Realizing that she had revealed too much information already, Emberwing tried to be less specific: “Not completely, even though there’s a technique that can weaken the effects of all psi-abilites in general, it only works within a limited area. The Shells disabled a very specific ability, that of farsight, yet it was blocked completely and at an enormous range.”

The Tactician leaned back, “Unraveling this mystery is proving to be a tough nut to crack, which means that it has to wait until we can get more information. After all, it’s unlikely that the Umiak would answer our questions and getting our hands on a wreck is impossible right now. Instead, we should focus on the help we can provide, perhaps even experimenting with amplified farsensing to increase our range.”

Emberwing had to agree, the Enemy fleet-lotai was depriving them of their strategic advantage. “Yes, if you were to offer us your help, the suspicions could be dispelled faster, then.”

“All right, it is getting late, and I think that we should continue our discussion tomorrow.” Ellen Jardin tapped the table, “Perhaps there will be enough time for another history lecture, something that covers the story of how we discovered our telepathic talents.”

The Loroi was eager to learn more about this matter, “That would be very interesting, maybe it could give us another insight about the differences regarding our psi-potential or how to bridge them.”

[Cthulhu]

Chapter XII: Dreams

As both women left the conference room, the Loroi asked about the status of the Hierarchy fleet: “Have the Shells tried to do anything or to intercept us?”

The Tactician shook her head, “No, and it was highly unlikely anyway. They would have to deploy vast amounts of torpedoes in order to block us off. As you’ve said, this would mess up their schedule and waste their ammunition supplies that they need for the assault. We have also passed the point where their missiles could have reached us in time.”

“Does this mean that we will be able to warn the Union in advance?” Emberwing was relieved to hear this.

The Human replied, “They sped up a bit, but we should arrive four days ahead of them. Anyway, is this really such a big issue? Even if the Umiak have managed to overcome your farsight, you surely must have more contingencies in tow?”

Emberwing did not want to admit the fact that in this stage of the war, the Union was too reliant on their trump card, the farsight. But they did not have alternatives, their lines were now too overstretched and the only way to meet the numerically superior Shells with sufficient numbers was to spot them in advance. The Loroi simply did not have enough ships to set up pickets in order to back up the Farseer network. She dreaded to think that even more of the advanced strike groups could have been overwhelmed, just like her own did, allowing even more of the Khalkha divisions to slip in unnoticed.
Revealing this to a prospective ally was unwise, however, and she was somewhat thankful for the psi-incompatibility as she formulated her response: “It is a big issue for me personally, since I’m the last survivor of my group that fell victim to this trick. Among other things, I see the necessity of foiling their plans as an act of revenge. But it is of course important for the overall situation, since even a few days of forewarning may help.”

“Don’t worry, we shall help avenge your fallen comrades, but will your superiors believe your story quickly enough?” asked the Tactician as they entered the elevator. “By the way, do you want to head to your cabin directly?”


“Yes, I’d like to retire for the night” She was indeed weary from this double shift. “As to the warning, Sanzai will ensure that my statement will be regarded as truthful, but if you mean the process of verifying it, then emergency farseer communication should speed it up. The most important thing is to foil their initial surprise and avoid having to split up our numbers.”

“I see, speed is certainly of great importance here.” said the Human as they exited the lift and entered the cabin. “An assortment of casual clothing and a couple of spare uniforms were already delivered to the cabinet over there. Also, we can reconfigure a simple VR set to your race’s specifications, if you want to try it out.”

“We Loroi are not particularly interested in fictional entertainment, but I thank you nevertheless.” This, however, might be a good opportunity to learn more about their tech level, thought Emberwing, and added, “Although we do use simulators for training, so please do. Your capability to control a ship through such means is quite novel, I must admit.”

The Tactician smiled, “We as a race are very curious and this, coupled with our imagination, led to the creation of countless fictional stories. In the Cybernetic Age, those were made into virtual worlds and games, many of them featuring starfaring. After we have learned how to travel the stars, the existing technology was repurposed in order to control real ships.”

Emberwing was somewhat perplexed about this penchant for creating fakes. “Why make up imaginary worlds instead of mastering the real one?”

“Well, the stories explore various fantastical scenarios. Sometimes they are simulations of various ideas, parables, or means of discussing concepts, but for the most part, they are made for entertainment.” The other woman shrugged, “Perhaps our imagination is too bored to deal with a single reality all the time and sometimes, we need to explore a different one for recreational purposes. At least, it gave us ample opportunity to imagine what a contact with aliens would be like. We invented all kinds of extraterrestrials, including bugs, but also Loroi-like ones.”

“By bugs, you mean something similar to the Shells, right?” But what does Loroi-like even mean, she thought, “and what about the ones resembling us?”

“Since we find insects somewhat unpleasant to look at, most scenarios involving them weren’t good ones and were actually somewhat close to what the big ones do. A swarm that devours anything in its path to fuel its mindless expansion. But regarding your second question“, the Human woman smirked, “it means aliens that are very similar to us, too similar to be a mere coincidence.”

“You seem to have predicted the behavior of the Shells to a surprising degree. But trying to invent alien species is a strange form of entertainment nevertheless.” Emberwing choose to ignore the second part.

“What kind of entertainment do you have?” asked the Human and took a seat.


The Loroi sat down on the recliner, “We retell stories and legends with sanzai, which allows for a high level of immersion. Otherwise, there are various physical competitions, and then, there’s Crossfire or similar games that are meant to simulate battles. There’s nothing resembling fictional stories, perhaps with the exception of the Barsam Church, which some notably odd Loroi have joined.”

“The Barsam have a religion at this level of development? This is quite odd, even though there were many such delusions in our history, all of them were abandoned long ago. After all, it requires to accept a dogma at face value, since questioning it would destroy the whole construct. Even at the peak of virtualization, we still realized what is a beautiful lie and what is the ugly truth.”

“The Barsam use the same set of Soia-era myths as a basis, but they do twist them in very strange ways to fit their agenda.” Emberwing told her briefly about the belief that the divine Gatherers were the true Soia, who created mortal servants in the image of local races to carry out their will to bring about peace. Yet those became corrupted and failed, forcing the Gatherers to withdraw from this plane of existence, thus causing the Fall.

“That’s quite interesting, but I guess that the Barsam will try to use us to further their goals, is that the reason why you have told me about them?” The Human tilted her head, “Or will we be seen as anathema to their beliefs?”

“On the contrary, they will immediately latch onto the notion that you are our template species and that we are merely one of the servant races of those Gatherers, not the true descendants of the Soia.” The Loroi emphasized the next part, “Please do not believe their sermons, since this will complicate the matter of your acceptance for the Loroi. They will try to convert you to their religion and influence you, like they did with their template species, the Nibiren.”

The Tactician chuckled, “Between space preachers and virtual remnants, you have quite the interesting and troublesome assortment of allies. Zarjow is overflowing with glee already.”

“Nevertheless, the Barsam are important members of the Union and you would need to adjust to their quirks in order to get along.” began Emberwing.

“You mean that we should join your Empire?” The Human interrupted her, “Why not the other way around?”

“We are destined to rule, it’s impossible for us to be subordinates!” protested the Loroi.

“But as I said, we are far too similar for it to be a coincidence, so the same should apply to us, too. Anyway, it’s getting late, and we should continue with the discussion tomorrow.” The Human left this worrying parting remark as she walked out of the cabin.


Yet another troublesome ally was an unsettling prospect since they revealed very little about their technology, numbers, capabilities or, most importantly, goals. She made a mental note no learn more about it tomorrow, then choose something resembling nightwear from the closet and went to sleep.

Perhaps due to the talk of virtual worlds, she found herself in the dream about that ancient walled city from before yet again. The road leading towards its gates was filled with a really strange mix of many races. Humans, Loroi and even a pink-skinned and pointy-eared combination of both were walking, riding on the backs of huge animals or sitting in carts that were being pulled by those creatures. A great variety of clothing styles and armor patterns painted the picture of an incredibly diverse meeting of cultures. But where were those impressions coming from?

She looked down and realized that she was wearing her clan’s armor, now adorned with the proper markings signifying the rank of a senior warrior. At her hip, she spotted the brilliantly white longsword and strapped on her back, a shield made from a similar material. Were multiple dreams converging into a single one here? Perhaps the mystery could be uncovered in the city itself, she decided, and proceeded on the paved road.

The city gates were guarded by two impressively big mozeret soldiers, clad in shiny breastplates and wielding long lances. One of them greeted her: “Hail, clan warrior, and welcome to the City of Sigil, where every race can meet in peace. Adhere to this sacred creed during your stay!”

Was this perhaps a neutral trading hub or a buffer state? Anyway, she decided to follow those rules: “I shall abide by your customs as long as you honor mine.”

The guard seemed to recognize the traditional greeting and nodded, allowing her to enter the city. The busy main street was filled with even more people, but she did not feel any discomfort due to the crowds. The best place to obtain information or to pick up rumors would be a tavern, and spotting a shield denoting such an establishment, she approached it. Opening the doors caused a terrible screech, and she woke up in her cabin due to the alarm.


Did those Humans infect her with their fondness for creating fake worlds? While there were a couple of neutral cities between the great nations on Deinar, they did not have any mozeret as guards, since they died out long before that. Besides, those hybrids between Loroi and Humans were most certainly a figment of her imagination, she thought while eating and getting ready. Deciding that her armor would be the best choice of attire, she spoke into her wrist comm: “I’m ready.”

The computer answered: “Good Morning, your pickup will be there shortly.”

“I hope that you had a pleasant night's rest,” the Captain himself entered the room.

Emberwing was not quite sure how to describe that dream: “Thank you, I had a very strange dream, but it did not affect me adversely.”

Alexander Jardin raised an eyebrow, “Strange dreams, but not nightmares, at least? That’s good to hear, we could treat your body’s injuries, but damages to an alien psyche would be beyond our means to heal.”

“We Loroi are very resilient, both in body and mind, but I thank you for your care and my rescue.” Or rather, it was very fortunate that she managed to invoke the restorative mental technique all by herself. The dreamscape duel managed to help clear up her thoughts. “I’m ready for my next assignment.”

“Good, then let’s proceed to the Lounge.” said the Human.

Emberwing tried to gauge the speed of Human scientific development relative to their timeline. If they had their first fusion reactors merely 250 years ago, but then went into a hiatus, how did they manage to overtake the Union? “You must have found an enormous cache of artifacts in order to advance so quickly and so far. We did not expect any Soia presence in the Empty Quarter, because the few pre-war expeditions weren’t able to find anything of significance, not even worlds worth colonizing.”

“The stars towards Union space are indeed poor and barren, thus we expanded corewards, following a trail of precursor artifacts. You see, the initial finds in our system were pitifully meager, yet immensely tantalizing. It spurred our advancement and, together with our telepathy, helped us to bloom into an empire.” explained the Captain as they exited the lift into a hallway and entered the Lounge.


The chamber before them was displaying an immense star chart. The yellow star in the center was labeled in blue with Terra, denoting their homeworld somewhere on the opposite edge of the Empty Quarter. From there, jump lanes connected to many worlds highlighted in the same blue color. She could only guess the number of worlds to be about 100, but the map was intentionally vague, no more than a schematic. I seemed that the Humans have indeed avoided trying to settle the Great Wasteland and went the other ways instead. No wonder that they remained unnoticed for so long, even though the pre-war expeditions should have come in range for farseer contact, the Humans were invisible to it.

“The Orgus came from this vector,” Alexander Jardin pointed to the spinward edge of their territory, “The approaching alien ship gave the colony there quite the fright, but the refugees were peaceful.”

“You have managed to create an impressive dominion in such a short amount of time,” said Emberwing “but how big is it exactly?”

“That’s classified, of course, at least until we establish an alliance. But I’ve shown you this overview in order to demonstrate that although we are newcomers, membership should be out of the question.” pointed out the Human.

The Loroi sighed, “I’m sorry if I have offended you with this suggestion. What I meant is that the speed seems to be extraordinary.”

“The expansion was largely unopposed, since the name Empty Quarter fits this whole region very well. Our homeworld is an oasis at its fringe, and the nearby systems were only marginally habitable, even with our most advanced technology. We can manage things like the lack of atmosphere or magnetic field by burying the arcologies underground. Too high or low gravitational forces are more of a problem, since counteracting those is too much of a hassle that is seldom worth the effort.” Alexander Jardin pointed to the coreward prong of their empire, stretching along a narrow corridor, “The truly habitable worlds begin to appear only from beyond this point.”

Trying to colonize dead worlds and then be forced to live underground like the Tithric? She suppressed this comparison just in time and asked a different question instead: “There were no other aliens?”

“We found some traces of those Soia, but those were the remains of destroyed outposts or ships. Following this trail, we happened upon a couple of razed worlds, apparently belonging to the same species. The biosphere had recovered and allowed for easy settlement, but the inhabitants were long dead.” The image switched to display a planet with a visible orbital ring, then zoomed in to show that its single, mostly flat supercontinent was dotted with various impact craters. Upon a closer look, the mountain ranges were also somehow misshapen, and even the coastal line was frayed, too. “This is Centaur, former home to this unfortunate species.”


Surprisingly enough, the image of a mozeret, the extinct Soia-Liron species, appeared before her. It wasn't blue, but bronze-colored instead, which meant that the Humans found their template species, or at least what remained of them. “Do you have a timeframe for the bombardment?”

“It must’ve happened around 275,000 years ago, thus it’s most likely related to the Fall, as you’ve called it.” answered the Captain.

“The significance of this find is even greater than you might think, since this must be the homeworld of the template species to the Soia-Liron mozeret race. Unfortunately, they perished in the Fall.” Emberwing was fascinated by this discovery, “Were you perhaps able to find any historical records?”

He shook his head, “Very little, since the planetary bombardment was utterly devastating. Do you see this ring? Apparently, the assailants somehow destroyed the smaller inner moon, causing a rain of debris that lasted for many centuries. This means that they not only wanted to eradicate the inhabitants, but to deny the planet to everybody else.”

“This is consistent with our historical data.” Although the weaponization of a moon was new to her, the genocide was not, “During the Fall, all inhabited worlds in this sector were subjected to massive bombardments and the populations were either killed off entirely or had their civilizations set back to an archaic level. Even our ancestors could not maintain their level of technology after the forced planetfall, regressing to the level of hunter-gatherers.”

“Then it seems that our planet was spared from this, while setting everyone else back. That’s quite the stroke of luck, yet I wonder why. Perhaps we, as mere hunter-gatherers at the time, weren’t considered a threat, or” he smiled, “the ship’s crews refused to slaughter their cousins.”

Previously, she assumed that the Humans were spared because they were outside the Soia empire’s borders, but if they discovered the race that the mozeret were copied from over there, it must’ve stretched far beyond their home planet. The legends also spoke that the Soia came from somewhere else, so perhaps they traveled through this corridor from the galactic core? Their own lost homeworld may lie somewhere beyond that, and this made the alliance an even more important matter.

“I think we have gone off-topic here, since I actually wanted to give you a history lecture. Zarjow thought that it would be a good idea to explain how we managed to unlock our latent telepathy, maybe it could give us more hints about how to overcome this wall.” He pointed at a terminal. “Those mozeret won’t go anywhere, after all.”

“Of course, once the war is won, I would love to be part of an expedition to learn more about their fate.” And our origins, too, she thought, “But for now, the information about your telepathic awakening sounds like a good starting point in order to unravel this mystery about our psi-incompatibility.”

[Cthulhu]

Intermission F: At the crossroads of an era

The Cybernetic Age reached its peak in the early 2130ies as the second, now exclusively arcology-born and raised generation entered the adult age. No longer considering themselves to be bound by national or cultural borders, they were the citizens of the planetary cyberspace first and their home arcology second. However, instead of simply enjoying their lives, free of the troubles that their parents and grandparents had to overcome, they became restless and began to use their nearly endless free time in order to set up new challenges to overcome.

While some wanted to restore the ruined Earth or to augment their bodies, the two most prominent factions had far more monumental goals. The first insisted that Humanity had slept in its cradle for too long and that they were ready to wake up and reach out for the stars. The second argued that Humans should use the hiatus to conquer their inner self first, or Mankind would be doomed to repeat the folly of war and destruction yet again, but on a galactic level.

The Starfarers were quite straightforward and mostly unified in their attempt to relaunch the Space Age. Various technologies, including suspended animation, generational ships or even FTL drives that could enable humans to bridge the interstellar abyss, were researched by twenty or even more arcologies at a time.

The other faction, the Endless, split into many smaller research groups as they pursued countless endeavors. The matter of elevating the species to a new level of development was a truly lofty goal, yet nobody had any idea where to start. A somewhat odd splinter wanted to resolve the whole conundrum in a radical way.

Instead of trying to change the human nature, something that many generations of visionaries as well as dictators tried, but failed to achieve, they decided to do away with the very concept of humans instead. Only the full virtualization of consciousness, they surmised, could lead to a more logical thought process, detached from violent emotions or the need for material gains. This should also solve the problem of space-faring, because the functionally immortal, digitized humans wouldn’t be troubled by the immensely long travel times.

While AI technology was already omnipresent, those were merely clever computer programs, without self-awareness and severely limited by their hardware. In order to copy the entirety of the brain, a wholly new concept of computers was envisioned. The fascination of this idea or perhaps the very challenge of the task garnered some interest, and collaborations with other groups led to the development of specialized hardware. Yet even better computers were still only good enough to emulate but a fraction of the best one, that of the brain itself.

Realizing this to be a dead end, the group disintegrated. Not willing to concede defeat, a single arcology used the data they gathered for a different approach. One of the biggest hurdles to mutual understanding was the inability to comprehend each other’s thoughts and goals within the limited framework of language. Therefore, they tried to modify the existing, albeit primitive man-machine interfaces used for deep-immersion VR into man-man interfaces instead.

Initially, the progress was good enough and with an entire network of brain implants, a much higher level of control over machines was achieved. Yet, all attempts to establish a link between two cybernetic contraptions failed, as if the brains refused to cooperate with each other beyond a certain, very shallow level. Nine thousand of the most dedicated researchers volunteered for a drastic experiment as they forcibly synchronized each other's brain waveforms in pairs.

Following forty deaths and three hundred comas, their goal was finally achieved in 2167 as eight researchers, which tuned their brains and implants to what they perceived to be the most promising configuration, began to sense small fragments of each other's thoughts. Their discovery proved to be an even more ground-breaking one, since the mind-link between two of them persisted even after the experiment itself was over and all the physical connections were severed.

[Cthulhu]

Chapter XIII: Prelude

The spirit of selfless sacrifice was another hallmark of a warrior species, thought Emberwing. She was sure that the Listel would be quite similar in this regard, since they were also part of the warrior ranks. She turned around to ask Angela Carmona, who had entered the Lounge some time ago and just finished eating, a question: “I hope that the reason for giving me this lecture was not to subject me to this invasive procedure of unlocking the mental potential?”

“Certainly not, especially since we only have limited data about your brain structure. It is of course similar to ours, but there are some notable differences in biochemistry.”

“So you think that brain waves have something to do with telepathy?” Emberwing was not quite sure that there should be any correlation.

“Postulating theories without proper understanding of how telepathy actually works or any means of measuring it is like poking around in the dark.” The scientist gave her empty plate to a bot and continued, “This unlocking was more akin to prying it open with brute force. Altering the brain waves apparently does nothing by itself, it merely triggers the awakening due to some mechanism we do not yet understand.”

“Sadly, we haven’t found a way to measure telepathy, too.” Even the tailoring of the amplifiers was more akin to trial-and-error along guidelines born from their long experience. The Loroi remembered her psi-aptitude tests that revealed her eidetic memory that was inherited from her father, yet those were done by trained telepaths. “Everything is done personally, which is subjective, but it is not a problem, since every Loroi has sanzai since birth. We must learn how to control our talents, not force them to surface.”

“You mean to tune out the telepathic chatter? Yes, we have to learn how to master that as well, but it is a small price to pay for the privilege of belonging to the psi—enabled. Unfortunately, just a few of us awaken, but the ones that develop telepathy are a cut above the rest.” The Human stood up and approached her.


“But it works for only a minority, right? Perhaps that forceful method is not particularly effective?” Sanzai was such a natural ability for the Loroi, that she could not even imagine living without it.

“There are actually more methods now. For example, a combined sending is sometimes effective, too.” Angela Carmona sat opposite her, “We even tried it on you, but it did not achieve anything.”

Emberwing was shocked: “Why would you attempt something like that on me, and when?”

The Human shook her head, “Don’t worry, we had no malicious intent. Your condition was simply very troubling, because you refused to wake up after the treatment was over. There was some brain activity, but we did not know if it was normal or not. The biggest problem was the apparent lack of any telepathic signature, and I feared that your brain may have suffered irreparable damage. Yet even our best attempts to contact you were met with absolute silence and, thus, we surmised that it might be some kind of an emergency reaction that was best left undisturbed. Fortunately enough, you woke up by yourself and so far, there seem to be no adverse effects.”

“Thank you for this explanation and my treatment.” She was indeed healthy and even managed to overcome her traumatic experience surprisingly fast. The only minor issue were the strange dreams, but those were best discussed with a Loroi healer.

“This was still quite the ordeal, are you sure that you experience no problems with your health, sleep or nutrition? Perhaps we should have another medical checkup.” offered the Human.

“There’s no need for that. The food is interesting, but nutritious, and I’m getting enough sleep.” Why was she asking so many questions, anyway?

“Quite a stubborn one, aren’t you. I’m merely telling you not to over-strain yourself and relax more.” The older woman smiled at her.

“I’m not a child! In half a year, I’d become 20 and a senior warrior.” protested Emberwing.

This was met with a chuckle, “So about the same age as my great-granddaughter and just as headstrong. To send children to the battlefield is not something I can agree with, but I won’t question the ways of another culture.”


“We Loroi are considered adults by the age of 12!” While Emberwing could agree that the new recruits were indeed too young, she decided to explain about the rapid maturation, the efficient telepathic training methods, the dirals and the long lifespan.

In turn, the Human told her about the slower maturation of her race and the long educational period of their youths. “We have now extended our lifespan to about 200 years, but seeing how you are able to live twice as long, we still have quite a lot of potential to unlock.”

“But why would you train your children in so many unrelated topics? It seems to be very wasteful and way too slow.” wondered Emberwing.

"What should we hurry for?" shrugged the Human, “Our education is meant to be broad since we consider knowledge a blessing and an important tool to help satisfy our inherent curiosity.”

Emberwing was puzzled as to how such a system could even work. “This must be quite inefficient and besides, how is your society kept stable?”

“Frankly speaking, this caste system of yours seems to be very inefficient, too” countered the Human, “we do not have such a division between civilians and warriors and all can choose their vocation freely.”

There were some major differences in their mindsets, apparently, “But our system helped us establish order and laid out the groundwork for our unification as a species. Was this not the same for you as well, since you united after the discovery of telepathy?”

“The generations that were raised in the cyberspace already gave our race a sense of unity. After we discovered telepathy, the psi-enabled humans took control, or rather were given it, since few people cared for politics. The superior abilities of the telepaths made them the driving force of a new age. Yet the final impulse that unified us was the discovery of precursor ruins on the moon. We simply thought that facing aliens as a squabbling bunch of rival arcologies would be entirely too silly.” Angela Carmona frowned, “Right, Alexey the ever present watchdog is telling me not to spoil the surprise, thus the rest has to wait until the next history lecture.”

“You seem to be quite a secretive race.” commented Emberwing. This explanation was too simplified to be anything but propaganda.

“Since we are newcomers on the galactic stage that is now in such turmoil, it is merely prudence, and Zarjow is certainly taking his duty very seriously.” She scratched her chin, “A race of telepaths may be accustomed to honesty, but sharing information with outsiders needs to be handled with utmost care.”

Asking more about Human technology would be futile at this point and Emberwing tried to look for another topic, but was interrupted by the doors of the Lounge opening.


The Captain, who was now sporting a beard, entered the room and approached the two with a smile.

Angela Carmona put her hands up her waist: “I went on a break since you barged into the med-bay with the ridiculous request of regrowing your beard. By the time I finished eating, I assumed you would be done with this, but now, have you come here to brag about it?”

Alexander Jardin stroked his beard: “Well, Alexey convinced me that every self-respecting Captain should have one in order to inspire awe and respect. I thought that getting some feedback about how the Loroi would view it should be done today, since we’ll jump tomorrow.”

Seeing a bearded male was somewhat novel for Emberwing, who saw one only once. However, the cultural significance was lost on her. “I do not know about the impact on your crew’s morale, but the Loroi will not care. Our males seldom grow facial hair, thus it may make you look somewhat different to them. The effect will be negligibly small, however, and it won’t help you look more warrior-like, if that’s what you are aiming for.”

“Oh well, every little bit helps” answered the Captain as he sat down, “The real reason I sought you out is to inform you that a small number of non-Loroi lifeforms have appeared in the next system and are moving towards us. The Umiak have apparently noticed that, too, since they are accelerating even more. Three ships have already suffered engine damage and are falling behind, one has even foundered. We will also jump earlier to stay at least three days ahead of them.”

The relay station of Rallis as well as most couriers were crewed by Loroi, who would be invisible to Humans. A small number should exclude a supply convoy, thus the most reasonable assumption would be that it was a contracted Barsam ship. “Can you actually discern the exact location or the difference between the species?”

“I can’t reveal the details, but to a certain degree, yes. As to the species, this ship can’t possibly be Umiak, and it’s not Loroi since we can’t sense you, leaving one of your allies as the only option, because it’s a border system.” Alexander Jardin snapped his fingers twice and a serving bot brought him a full plate.

That was logical, thought she: “This is correct, and I expect a Barsam vessel. A number of those were hired as couriers and for other miscellaneous duties.”

“So there are mercenaries, as well as preachers, among their ranks?” The Human picked up a meat skewer, “Anything else we need to know about your cousins?”

Emberwing was a bit uneasy about the source of that meat, but it looked just like ordinary miros, “Apart from their strange religion, nothing comes to mind.”

The Captain swung the now empty stick around, “Did the lecture help you come up with an insight about our mental incompatibility?”

“Honestly, this created more questions than it managed to answer. I need to analyze it all first, maybe I’ll come up with something tomorrow.” proposed Emberwing.


Both humans nodded, and the woman spoke to her: “Then I shall escort you to your cabin. A good night’s rest may certainly help to see the matter from the fresh perspective of a new morning.”

As they both entered the elevator, the Loroi decided to ask about the Human chain of command: “You said that telepaths are in charge, but how is it structured, since there are only a few of you?”

“I can reveal a little bit, I guess,” answered the scientist, “There are enough of us for all leadership positions and small teams of telepaths are overseeing every major unit, be it an arcology, ship, or like in my case, a university. Our superior abilities are simply undisputed.”

While Emberwing assumed that this was an oversimplification of a very complex matter, she went along with it: “We Loroi are also in charge of the Union, partly due to our telepathic talents.”

“I’m glad that you understand. Unfortunately, we do not have time for another history lecture, since tomorrow will be the big day of the official contact. You should get plenty of sleep to be ready for it.” advised the Human as she left her cabin.


Tomorrow, her task of alerting the Union would finally succeed. Even though she was somewhat anxious about the meeting between Humanity and the Union, she followed the advice of Angela Carmona, and went to bed.

Ember and her three diral sisters crept through the underbrush, sneaking up on a herd of wild miros. Three additional teams were doing exactly the same, intending to split up the group with a surprise attack from multiple directions. The most important part was the timing, otherwise, the herd could form a wedge and charge out of the encirclement. Fortunately, being in the middle of the wind-still clearing, had lulled the animals into a false sense of security. Upon the silent command of the band leader, the hunters sprung out, hurling their javelins at the prey.

The missile thrown by Ember managed to wound the pack leader, and its screams drove the others into a panic. Her sisters could now target the delicious young in the middle without interference as those tried to flee in all directions. The hobbling elder attempted to attack her, but she avoided the slow charge, just as her comrades sank their spears into its flanks. The hunt was a resounding success, and the six piglets should provide enough juicy meat for everyone. The big boar, however, dwarfed them all, and it took the Loroi quite a while to construct a sled to transport its carcass into the camp.

The whole group feasted late into the night, and honoring her first strike upon the pack leader, Ember was assigned the dawn shift. Grateful for this, she fell asleep quickly, only to be woken up by the midnight shift as they dragged themselves into the tent. Yet not everyone was feeling sleepy, and a lone figure was still sitting at the campfire, grilling a skewer. No one was permitted to eat alone, thought Ember, as she approached the rule-breaker, who turned out to be the Human Captain. With a nod of his bearded chin, Alexander Jardin offered her a seat at the fire and then handed her the cooked meat. She accepted both and bit into the juicy, tender chunk. Only then, did the absurdity of the situation dawn on her, causing her to wake up.


The whole dream was utterly ridiculous, thought Emberwing. This particular hunt back then went wrong, since one of the diral sisters from her group tripped, thus alerting the quarry. The huge boar quickly assembled the herd and charged right at the hapless hunters, forcing her squad to climb a tree in order to escape its fury. The beast relented only half a day later, and upon returning to the camp, the four were mockingly called winged miros for the desperate speed with which they practically flew up the tree. It took her quite some time to transform that “winged” moniker from an insult into an acknowledgment of her fleetness in both mind and body.

The most important thing was the appearance of the Human Captain, why would the dream insert him into the reminiscence of her diral times? This made even less sense than the previous ones. She decided to visit a mystic, someone specialized in telepathic healing techniques, after her return. For now, she took a shower to wash off the weird feeling of this dream, but then, elected to order a meat skewer out of curiosity. It tasted just like miros, and the meat was grilled perfectly. Which was impossible, since the Humans did not have any miros. Except for its template species, she realized, after recalling that particular animal she was shown earlier.


She chose to shelve the matter for the time being and spoke into her wrist comm: “Charon, when is the jump into the next system scheduled?”

“The ship will jump in two hours. An officer will be there in a short while.” replied the computer.

The Operative entered her cabin, “Good Morning, since the historical first contact is but a few hours away, we should go through all the miscellaneous matters now.”

“That seems like a good idea,” agreed Emberwing, and she explained the roles of the castes, especially the Mizol in greater detail.

“A dedicated group to serve as diplomats as well as spies is actually similar to our traditions as well“, admitted Zarjow, “although both the telepathic and the interspecies component is new to us. Fortunately enough, we are safe from the first, thus we only have to worry about the second one for now.”

The Loroi almost smirked at the idea of the Mizol having their tricks blocked off, but resisted the urge, since this matter went beyond the boundaries of caste rivalries. “Yes, the Barsam courier may be the bigger issue there, as I would’ve preferred a meeting between our species only.”

“Don’t worry about the religion issue, we have gotten rid of the last vestiges of this problem during our awakening.” Zarjow stroked his beard.

What did the Humans believe in, then? That did not matter now, though, “I don’t mean the issue of you converting to their faith, what we need to address is their interpretation of our apparent similarity.”

“The Captain decided to challenge their beliefs as well. After all, the best defense is offense.” The Human smiled.

Was that expression tingled with sarcasm or malice? Perhaps both, thought Emberwing, “The Barsam are mostly pacifists, but I still would not like to earn their ire in a direct meeting.”

“Then, we shall bring along some guards, like the two tall ones you saw prior.” shrugged Zarjow, “this may help us look more like warriors, too.”

“Are they somehow special?” she recalled that they never spoke, just like the Teidar.

“Yes and no.” The Operative smirked, “Back on topic, are there any other issues we need to be aware of? Like colors of the uniforms or the ship, for example, or should we carry weapons? Perhaps something ceremonial for the Captain, maybe even that sword Steele made as an experiment.”

“I see no issues with the colors, and it’s not like you can change them.” Only some traditionalists carried ceremonial weapons, and she saw no need for that, “Normal sidearms should be enough, a sword will look ridiculous.”

“Good, then we can proceed to the bridge now.” Zarjow stood up.


The previously mentioned guards were waiting for them in the elevator cabin. Emberwing sized them up, while they were certainly impressive, a Barsam would still be twice as massive. Seeing how she looked at them, the Operative simply said: “True strength lies within.”

Unsure what to ask or how to answer, she spent the ride in silence. As the four stepped through the heavy blast doors of the bridge, they were greeted by the Captain: “Welcome upon the stage for an act of historical significance! Please take your seats in the front row. We will perform the deceleration procedure now.”

After they complied, the ship started vibrating yet again. The melody began as a harmonious whisper, but quickly turned into a thundering hymn, before dissolving into a cacophony and ending with a staccato. Somehow, even her sight was distorted for a short while, pulsing with a double-vision effect in tune with the odd rhythm.

“Don’t worry, the jump cores were slightly desynchronized, but it was still within acceptable parameters. We reserved a single one for the jump, and had to amplify the other ones to create a sufficiently powerful counter-impulse in order to stop. This shall speed up the whole matter, since the other cores need to be reconfigured first.” explained Zarjow.

The Captain exclaimed: “Since it succeeded without us falling through realspace, we can proceed now. The calculations were even precise enough to bring us right into the outbound jump zone. Adjust the parameters, re-route energy into the eight core and engage the jump drive!”