Book 02, Chapter 17
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No chirps from insects. No hoots from nocturnal beasts. This meadow amidst a forest remained silent.
A single figure stood in the center, looking upwards.
Around the edges of the meadow, predator, prey, and opportunists stood motionless, watching the individual. No sound left them. Perhaps due to some sort of reverence, the various beasts almost seemed to bow in their posture.
This person’s gaze remained skyward. A soft wind blew through. A glow, a fluttering of light flowed out of his open palm. It cascaded down, wisping through his long cape and into the night’s breeze.
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The Cardboard Box arrived in a remote and vacant solar system. Despite said vacancy and remoteness, the ship remained in full stealth. Neighboring solar systems could have life with enough sentience and technology to detect an anomaly such as a ship in a nearby solar system.
Even if one doesn’t know a ship is a ship, one usually knows when something odd is something odd.
“This is as good a place as any,” Geib announced as he sat up from the commander’s seat.
He started to stretch, before stopping immediately. Ayabegei was glaring at him. She didn’t approve of him acting so undignified as to do exaggerated stretching in front of the crew as commanding officer.
Others were less willing to hold back. Mahie stretched her tiny arms and legs like a small critter. She even did a large yawn that unfurled her tongue.
“Crew, you’re relieved for eight hours. Get some movement, rest, whichever,” Geib ordered.
Nuta climbed up out of his seat along with the others.
“This is good. It gives the engines some time to cool,” Nuta commented.
“Were they running hot? Is there a problem?” Geib inquired.
“No problems,” Nuta reported as he stopped in front of his commander. “But ever since the Reezmins fully serviced the Cardboard Box’s engines only three weeks ago, I’ve been trying to take it easy on this old girl. I want her to stay fresh for a while longer.”
“How thoughtful,” Geib commented genuinely as he and the others left the bridge.
“Three weeks,” Dogot added. “And still no assignments. Odd.”
“Six weeks is our record, right?” asked Pip-is, emphasizing by counting on his fingers.
Geib, Pip-is, and Dogot turned from the central hall to the mess room. The others went down to their own preferred locations.
“Do you want to run a diagnostic on the comms systems?” Geib asked.
Dogot laughed nervously. “I’ve run 8 diagnostics since this morning. Everything is working perfectly.”
Within the mess hall were numerous sustenance printers, essentially food production systems. It used a concentrated bio processing system to develop food nearly instantly. While it was still delicious and nutritious, it still never lost its synthetic taste. At least the case with theirs. Ones on bigger or better equipped ships had more refined printers.
While there was a tiny kitchen where one could make something more real with the dried and frozen food stock, none of those three were in any mood to do that.
“So we had a three week vacation. If I had known that, I would have put us somewhere nicer to relax while we waited,” Geib commented as he looked over the sustenance printer’s options.
He grimaced as he selected a porridge of oats, but of the more healthy variety.
“A desert would be so nice,” Dogot commented wistfully. “One with the most oppressive temperatures.”
Geib and Pip-is exchanged glances.
“Think we’d stayin th’ ship,” Pip-is remarked.
“You’re all missing out,” Dogot said with a grin. “When you have the sun or suns cooking you, the air so dry and hot it scours your throat, when you feel your scales crack from the heat… ah you truly know you are alive!”
Dogot beamed with his blissful fantasy as the others looked down or away.
A beeping sound pulled Dogot from his dream, and Pip-is and Geib from their nightmare.
Dogot pulled out his datapad, and seemed to jump in excitement.
“We have a transmission!”
Then he paused, his eyes flicking and narrowing.
“But…”
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Clear as day, the message spoke in Anlov language. Some of the grammar, rhetoric, and diction was odd, but it was unmistakably Anlov.
A holographic map glowed about the briefing room table. It showed the star of the system they were in and at the far end, six galaxies away, a highlighted habitable moon.
“The broadcast is not a directed signal,” Dogot began. “The signal has been boosted to travel very quickly, but at a smaller range, typical of distress beacons used when one can safely assume someone is close enough to receive it. However the content of the message explicitly states it is not an emergency, but a summons.”
“Sowat? Sowas th’ weird part?” Pip-is inquired.
“The language is Anlov. But this region is restricted,” Cisimi noted. “There’s been no contact with any of the sentients within a 10 galaxy radius. And if we hadn’t had contact, regulation stipulates that unstealthed travel in this area is forbidden.”
“So someone crashed there,” Mahie surmised. “And they don’t mind living there, but wants company. Right?”
“It is possible,” Ayabegei remarked. “However it would be required for them to leave so as to not interfere with native development.”
“I take it we’ll need to go convince them to come with us?” Nuta asked.
“That is correct,” Ayabegei nodded.
“Or arrest them and bring them with us,” Suge added. “They can’t remain.”
“There’s more,” Dogot opened, waiting until he was sure Suge was finished. “There are four seemingly random sentences at the end as well as eleven random isolated words.”
“They’re call codes,” Kazochi explained, intercepting any questions. “Wits and I referenced them against our entire database. And we got a match for this one.”
She pointed to a projection. The phrase seemed like gibberish.
Atop a sideways river.
“This was a phrase used over 400 years ago. We know it due to the information recovered from after the Conflict.”
The more historically inclined amongst the team, each furrowed their brows.
“This is Mabun.”
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Imperceptibly, the Cardboard Box entered another strange, new world. Despite the world’s abundance of anomalies, such as bizarre magnetic fields and unbelievable fluctuations of intense energy, the ship had no difficulty in maintaining its stealth.
Below, the world was dotted with hamlets, villages, castles, and small walled cities. Ostensibly technologically medieval, there were visible instances of rudimentary cogwork machinery and metallurgy.
Everywhere there were strange life forms, large and robust. Thick and furry, scaly and devious. Just as diverse was the sentient population. It was extremely rare for a world to have more than three or four different sentient species. This world had over eight.
Civilization ended as they reached an imposing mountain range. Snow and crag filled the screen, reaching up into the clouds. No passes or trails intruded, and not even camps were pitched in a place so inhospitable.
So dense were the mountains, so steep were the precipices, that there was nowhere to set down. It wasn’t necessary though; the ship can hover in place with negligible use of power. They had sent a message to the mysterious source alerting them of their imminent arrival. In return, the source directed them to the mountains and warned that landing even the smallest landing craft was basically impossible.
Circling around a mountain, a lone figure was spotted on the rocky mountain face. Its head turned up toward their position.
“Can…can he see us?” Mahie asked as the bridge crew observed the individual.
All those wanting to be rational were given pause as the figure’s head moved to follow the invisible ship’s approach.
Stopping roughly a kilometer away, the crew brought up an enlarged image of their caller.
It resembled one of the natives with its full suit of armor. The armor was tarnish brown like dried bones, didn’t resemble metal, and was moderately ornate. Its helmet covered the entire head, with even the eyes invisible. A large cape bellowed in the strong wind, revealing a rich tapestry of dark hues. He wore a large sword on his left hip, his off hand holding the scabbard still.
Truly a majestic sight! A lone, magnificent knight stood at attention on the side of a mountain on the smallest foothold. All the while fierce winds whipped at him, tossing his cape in a truly cinematic way.
One other detail: hanging behind his back left side was an advanced combat rifle.
Inside the Cardboard Box, the crew was unsure how to proceed. Were they going to be having this conversation on the side of the mountain? Did he just want to be picked up? The caller hadn’t mentioned what to do next after reaching him.
After many minutes of indecision, the mysterious individual perhaps sensed the confusion. Or perhaps he too was weighing his choices. It turned its head upward to his left and nodded slowly.
A quake shook the mountain, rocks and boulders tumbled down, crashing past the unmoving, unflinching individual. A large section of rock on the face of the mountain started sliding outward. It was smoothly done, like a drawer being pulled out. Then appendages of a rocky sort could be seen pushing the section out. It became clear that these arms and legs belonged to the section of rock itself. It reached out and grabbed at the mountain’s side, finally pulling itself free.
Climbing around the side of the mountain, it turned to show a head atop a long neck. Every part was rock, no eyes, no mouth, no ears, nothing but a boulder in the rough shape of a skull. The rugged face scattered pebbles as it nodded back to the stranger.
It reached out its hand which the figure stepped into. He was placed carefully in the spacious chamber that had been opened by the removal of the rocky fellow.
He turned back to the invisible nothing ship that couldn’t be seen and moved a hand towards the empty chamber.
Launching in their away ship, the away team landed in the chamber with plenty of room to spare. This chamber was coated in a reflective red metal. Electrical lights and steam circuitry ran along the walls and ground. Steam and sparks shot from various sources, but always looked tamed in its form.
Standing near the inside wall, the curious individual nodded once more towards the earthen giant. It nodded in return and began squeezing its front into the entrance. It was a very tight squeeze as all light from outside vanished. Once settled, its face and limbs blended right into its body. As shocking as its sudden manifestation, it suddenly became nothing but an indistinct wall.
Turning sharply, the mysterious contact strode over to the invisible away ship that could in no way be seen. Light erupted from nowhere as the away ship opened its main hatch. Out strode Ayabegei, Kazochi, Ocura, and Suge. Within, Wits and Cisimi waited.
An unsettling silence filled the chamber. The figure stood silently, hands rested on his sword’s pommel.
“Good afternoon,” Ayabegei finally opened. “I am speaking to the one who sent the message?”
Silence. Painful, disgusting silence. Everyone waited for someone else to speak. Even the normally composed among the crew felt permeating unease.
Ayabegei drew out a translation device to try the deciphered local languages that Dogot was still working on.
“I am,” the stranger announced.
Those with weaker constitutions would have jumped from the impact, echo, and gruff of the voice. It was the voice of a tired, but indomitable old bastard. He moved his hands up to remove his helmet.
An impossible fear realized. A fear dreaded from the start, but thought to be impossible.
Suge’s hand instantly reached for his side arm.
“Not needed,” the stranger boomed. He stepped back, set his helmet on a nearby shelf, and held empty palms up in front of his stomach.
His ears and mouth were clearly surgically altered to resemble one of the planet’s sentient races. But the remaining features were unmistakable.
Ayabegei took a deep breath and exposed her palms in return. Suge, seeing this, eased his stance and withdrew his hand coolly.
“You can understand our response, I am sure,” Ayabegei began diplomatically. “None look forward to standing in front of one of Mabun’s Bisca Clones.”
His skin was a faint blue-grey shade. His piercing orange eyes moved slowly. His large, white teeth glinted in the electrical light of the hangar.
“Mabun… it exists,” he asked, pausing. “Still?”
Every person present had the same sudden realization.
“No,” Ayabegei answered directly, possibly ripping off a bandage.
His eyes didn’t blink. They turned away only briefly before returning.
“Hmm,” he acknowledged as he turned.
He pressed a switch in the wall as he picked his helmet back up. The wall opened to reveal an elevator.
“Come,” his voice lobbed. “Tell.”
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Panting. Weeds and branches whipped at him. Bare feet snapped twigs and cut upon rocks. Panting and huffing.
Then, the trees and shadows parted. Cold air, unimpeded by the woods, struck his skin.
But the soldier could only smile. He stared up at the night sky, ablaze with celestial lights. The nebulae, moons, the planets beyond, all bid welcome.
The stars…
This agent rubbed at his skin. This world’s foliage and stones had drawn the first blood from him. He already had some scars from his birth and upbringing. But he hoped these new minor scrapes could turn into this world’s first scars.
His gaze returned skyward, past the bright stars. He smiled. Up there by the stars beyond sight, his family resided. They would come for him soon.
Soon.
Soon!
Exuberant excitement filled his lungs. He would need many gifts to give when his family arrived.
He bound off into the rich world.
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Though it was like a sitting room in principle, it had no such comfort. The entire facility built within his mountain was covered in this reddish metal. Advanced cogwork, machinery, and electrical systems within the facility seemed outright alien compared to the rustic world outside. And yet something about it all did fit in with the world. It spoke softly that it did belong, but was forgotten, like the work of a long dead civilization.
Furnishings in this room were sparse, with all of the comforts of the inside of a ship’s engine room. On a metallic bench, the clone sat, still in full armor. The away team sat on various metal furniture, with it being as hard on the butt as you would imagine.
Yet again, there were more heapings of silence.
“What happened?” the clone finally asked.
His face was without many wrinkles, but still a dense aura of age emanated from him. His posture was as solid and as mountainous as his dwelling. His eyes had such a cold intensity to them. Perhaps it was the eyes’ personal will that enabled him to see a stealthed ship.
“Should we start with introductions?” Ayabegei replied.
Not wanting to suffer through another exhausting pause, she started.
“We are members of the Anlov Scholars. I am second in command of the Cardboard Box, Lieutenant Mazoy. This is Junior Lieutenant Edesium, Specialist Reezmin, and Junior Lieutenant Vihili.”
Simmering amber eyes tracked slowly from face to face as their names were called. He again was quiet for a thick while before he introduced himself.
“E428-6381-022R, of Branch Third, Second Destination Force,” the clone recited, with pauses throughout. “Here, I took the name Tohvso Aht-Third.”
“What happened?” Tohvso asked again.
“Mabun’s forces and wars were discovered sixteen years into its existence,” Kazochi explained, taking the initiative. “After the discovery of Mabun’s actions, its atrocities, its hidden wars, Anlov ordered all Mabun forces to surrender themselves for prosecution, and to surrender all war materials. Weapons, ships, mechs, super weapons, assets seized during their conquests.”
“And clones,” she added.
She had expected more reaction than nothing from this clone, but felt a small pang of disappointment when he didn’t so much as twitch.
“Most of Mabun complied,” Kazochi continued. “Mabun high command surrendered, as did the First and Fourth Destination Forces. The Second Destination Force and Third Destination Force declared war. Eighteen months later, the Third Destination Force surrendered completely. For over four brutal years, war continued. Entire galaxies were destroyed in Mabun’s flight from accountability. Finally the war turned hopeless for the Second Destination Force. The Grand Commandant of the Second Destination Force fled with all of her remaining forces in a retreat to the forbidden Ruusgathga space. Her plan was to parley for sanctuary, barter technology for an alliance. She planned to eventually usurp the Ruusgathga, subjugate them, integrate them into a new force, and exploit every single resource they had.”
Throughout, Tohvso’s face didn’t even budge in the slightest.
Kazochi continued upon seeing no response.
“Unfortunately for her, the ambition of the Ruusgathga was greater. The Grand Commandant was instead betrayed. With new technology, super weapons, and clones falling right into their hands, the Ruusgathga went from an exiled shadow of a fallen civilization to a super power empire overnight. From beginning to end, from the hidden wars to the rebirth of the Ruusgathga Empire, your brothers, the Bisca Clones were there. Even today, your brothers slaughter across the Ruusgathga Sphere. Their brutality, their barbarism, their soul killing atrocities…omnipresent.”
Kazochi directed her words with such fury, such disgust upon this clone, speaking the suffering of those too dead to say what they wanted to say.
Tohvso sat noiselessly. A nearby furnace flickered, casting shadows upon his face.
Everyone waited with baited breath for an inevitable response.
“What else happened?” he finally replied.
Kazochi jumped to her feet.
“That’s all you have to say?!” she screamed, her eyes smoldering like the coals in the nearby furnace. “And why are you here, to brutalize this world?!”
He stared coldly up at her. If he had any concerns for his safety, he sure didn’t show it.
“No,” he answered after his normal delay. “Recon Force, Asset Investigation and Acquisition.”
His explanation was perforated with perforations.
“I was sent near the start. I had surgery to look like native. Scout. Learn. Collect technology, weapons. Learn abilities. After four years, brothers come for me. Teach them. Give to them. Advise them. Help them conquer.”
He had maintained eye contact with Kazochi, unblinking.
“I wasn’t there when brothers killed. I couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t join them,” he added.
“How haven’t you died?” Ocura interrupted. “Or age even?”
This time, for the first time, his usual pause was accompanied with a quick glassing of his eyes. It was never clear if Tohvso paused so much for dramatic effect, for him to carefully construct a sentence, or the more likely case that he hadn’t spoken Anlov language in a long time. But this pause felt different.
“This world is magical,” Tohvso spoke. “No lie. Magic. Seems impossible. It’s very real. I have…”
Right, so he did indeed suffer from rust to his language.
“I have…. No curse. Un-curse. It says I don’t age. Body. Mind.”
Ayabegei internally grimaced. “Surely Geib would be amused by this,” she thought.
Ambient noises returned in the silence. Crackles and hisses from the furnace was all that was heard.
“I, a Bisca Clone, like brothers, a weapon of war,” Tohvso spoke up. “Tools. Machines. I killed like brothers. If I had returned, I would be there, to do… bad killing.”
Suge and Kazochi felt that tension again.
“But now? Never,” Tohvso added. “I changed. Many years. Bisca don’t live long. Scrapped for parts. But I had time. And no Mabun.”
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“So what’s his story?” Geib inquired.
“He is a Mabun remnant. A Bisca Clone,” Ayabegei answered over the comm. She turned to look back at the others talking with Tohvso. She wasn’t trying to be clandestine, simply respectful.
“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Geib responded nonchalantly.
Ayabegei waited.
“No that doesn’t make sense,” Geib corrected himself. “He’d be hundreds of years old. They couldn’t live past 35, right?”
Ayabegei steeled herself.
“He says he was given a blessing that prevents him from aging,” Ayabegei started before continuing without a pause. “This is impossible of course as magic is impossible. It must be the diet or temporal anomalies that have extended his life unnaturally.”
“Lieutenant Mazoy,” Geib started, disarmingly professional. “We’ve done a lot of tests out here. This latent energy we detected, it’s everywhere. Soil. Air. Water. It’s… tangible. It has an observational effect on matter and its properties. There is a magic here, but it’s clearly a unique property of matter for this world. The magic here is empirical, which I know you are fond of. If anything, I’m disappointed. It’s really cool and fascinating and has limitless implications. But you know me. I wanted impossible.”
Ayabegei was unsure how to feel. At the moment, she wanted to entertain some fantasy, perhaps that Geib was replaced by a shapeshifter. Who exactly was she talking to? But instead of drawing attention to this surprise, she decided to just be glad she was having an intelligent conversation for once.
Returning to his statement, if the magic were truly so mundane in his eyes, it could very well be real. It has been documented that unique forms of energy on worlds have influenced evolution, enabling matter to be affected by it and in turn, matter affecting the energy. Could such energy really be used to prolong life indefinitely?
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“Why did you call us?” Ocura asked as Ayabegei sat back down. “You don’t seem to want to leave.”
“I heard a transmission,” Tohvso answered, standing up.
He strode over to a table and brought back a large metal puck.
“They spoke of here.”
As he placed it on the table, Kazochi set down a small device.
“Our team has managed to decipher enough of the native language. This might help,” she explained.
“No need. Anlov needs return to me,” Tohvso answered, handing back Kazochi’s device.
He pressed a button on his machine with a resounding clunk.
Voices could be heard clearly in the Anlov voices. Accents and vernacular quickly identified them as Sayr. They discussed their usual antics, the usual vice dressed as honor. One voice told the others that visual confirmation of a purchased planet had been done. It was clear as they described the purchased planet, that it was the one the crew and Tohvso were on. Another voice responded, replying that a landing force would arrive in ten days, their time.
“Who are they? When are they coming?” Tohvso asked.
“Calculating based on their system of time, and this world’s days, they will come in a day and a half,” Ayabegei explained. “The Opportunity of Sayr is another trans-universal Sphere. It formed after Mabun’s demise. Their empire is neo-feudalistic. For them, everything is for sale.”
Tohvso stared unblinking, awaiting further explanation.
Ayabegei stared back. These weren’t the eyes of a beast or of a scholar. They were the eyes of a restrained inferno.
“We are currently on the border of Anlov and Sayr Spheres. The treaty we unfortunately agreed to permits Sayr to essentially purchase any planet in these undefined borders. In exchange, we have free travel and they can not make any further encroachments of any sort further into the Anlov Sphere.”
For the first time, Tohvso’s face changed. In a single nanosecond, his lip curled. It was the briefest window into his feelings on any matter so far.
“Everything is for sale?” Tohvso asked.
“Yes,” Suge answered. “Everything.”
“No,” Tohvso calmly declared with no hesitation. “Not here. Not this world. I was chosen to protect it. I will.”
“You think you can fight them?” Suge asked.
“Yes,” Tohvso stated.
“Not an option,” Suge retorted.
“Anlov did not. So I must,” Tohvso retorted in kind.
Suge resented this truth, but resented the attitude more at the moment.
“Wait wait wait,” Kazochi interrupted. “There’s another option.”
Tohvso’s eyes slowly traveled to Kazochi.
“Part of the treaty forbids Sayr from occupying any planet with an established research base, even if that planet is already bought,” Kazochi explained. “We could set one up right now until a larger, permanent station arrives.”
“But…” she paused. “It requires us to actually do research. You had said you were sent to recover artifacts. Did you? Are there some with magical properties or anomalous? That would be a suitable project.”
His response was somehow even faster than his earlier response.
“No, Never.”
Kazochi froze. Her whole self was stunned. Body, thoughts, even her breath.
“What? But…. but Sayr would never be able to come. This world would be safe.”
“And what would Anlov do?” Tohvso asked.
As Kazochi opened her mouth, he answered.
“My mission. Anlov would turn it all into weapons.”
“Like Mabun,” he added.
“No,” Kazochi stammered. “It would be forbidden for any research to be used in military applications.”
“It will be someday,” Tohvso replied. “It will start as the people’s, but it will be turned to weapons. Electricity, metal, everything.”
“We could put in extra effort to prevent any research from being weaponized. We’ve done it before,” Kazochi offered.
“You can say for sure?” Tohvso asked pointedly. “Nothing here is useless. They will turn it into weapons.”
Kazochi fumbled with her words, but finally stopped.
“So you are a native?” Ayabegei inquired. “You are a visitor turned citizen? Have you told the populace? About yourself and your past? That they are not alone in existence.”
“Yes,” Tohvso answered. “They have accepted me.”
Ayabegei turned to the others. “We are leaving. There is nothing for us here.”
As she started to depart, Tohvso spoke up.
“Stay the night if you wish. Take food, supplies,” he offered.
“I would like to know more about Sayr,” he added.
Kazochi turned to the others. “I will stay.”
Ayabegei and Suge’s faces were cold, detached. Ocura’s was of pity, but softly so.
“He seems to have made his decision,” Ocura said. “But do try.”
Tohvso escorted the others out, leaving Kazochi to contemplate what to say.
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Waves caressed the sandy shore. They neared the boots of the agent, but never quite reached. These boots had led this warrior on many quests. They had been with him since the beginning.
He looked down at them and the rust that had accumulated on the metal sections. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep up with all the damage they sustained.
His gaze turned upward, past the sky. His shoulders did a miniscule drop.
So long had he waited. So many welcoming gifts he had accumulated. So much power to share. And yet still he waited.
Had they forgotten him? Perhaps they couldn’t find him?
No matter. He turned to seek more to present to his family when they inevitably arrived. And new boots.
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“Sayr is strong,” Tohvso commented. “But rotten.”
“Yes. They’re a fragmented people, but moments of unity are terrifying,” Kazochi agreed.
Kazochi stared at the furnace’s light.
“Does this world have any military? Any modern weapons at all?” she asked.
“No,” Tohvso answered. “Not united. Few technology of own.”
“You can’t win,” she responded.
He stared back, his eyes unwavering in intensity and focus.
“I will have to,” he declared. “I have the tools. The weapons. The magic.”
Kazochi went back to her view of the furnace. She shook her head.
“We could protect you. We could-”
She stopped herself from continuing.
“What changed you?” she instead asked.
“Time,” he began. “Comfort. People. Community. Friends.”
He stopped and turned to the furnace too. “Family.”
“What happened to your family?” Kazochi inquired.
He turned his head towards her. His eyebrows moved for the first time.
“I’m… old,” he declared.
Kazochi let loose a nervous laugh. Then back to silence.
“I didn’t change. Much,” he clarified. “I kill. I war. I was made for it. Taught it. Lived it. Can’t escape it. It feels…natural.”
Kazochi found herself with a stern frown.
“But my war changed. Killed for Mabun. Killed for cover. Then I killed for kings, for lords. Killed for friends. Then killed for me.”
His freezing amber eyes bore in Kazochi.
“And I will kill for home. But to use for war that isn’t mine? I can’t allow. Not you. Not Anlov. Not Sayr.”
“I’ll build something detached. A freedom. Freedom for those who know war. Who know being used. Those who can’t stop who they are. Those with abilities. But guided away from insane urges, like brothers. We won’t be a weapon in hands except our own or who we choose.”
Suffice to say, Tohvso’s proficiency with Anlov language was coming back quickly.
“You’re justifying,” Kazochi rebutted. “Justifying cruelty and continued violence.”
“It is… d-” Tohvso paused. “Deterrence. Even those who live war want their own peace. It’s the only way.”
“You don’t have to do any of this!” Kazochi protested. “I can lead the research team. I can ensure-“
Tohvso interrupted by standing up suddenly.
“Then you must see.”
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Tohvso pressed his hand against a glowing panel.
“This is a very small collection.”
A grinding of metal at first, then a smooth slide.
Dust danced in the darkness. In its depths, there was a dull blue light.
“You will know.”
With that, he strode in. As he walked, dim lights turned on along his path. Sparks and steam threw auras off the polished red metal. Tohvso led Kazochi down a steep staircase that wound ever downward. The blue light in the darkness grew stronger.
Then she saw it. A wall of glass; a large window. Beyond was wonder. Kazochi’s eyes grew as wide as the enormous facility she saw.
She could only faintly hear Tohvso.
He waited until she reluctantly turned towards him and nodded. Tohvso turned and vanished down an unlit hall.
Turning back to the window, she was unable to stop her urge. An urge like that of a child. She walked up to the window and pressed her hands against the glass. A cold thud went through her body. A warm ripple. It spread to her nose and chin, which she had also pressed against the glass.
Within, she saw energy, lightning, aura, and machinery. Systems fed each other, aether dazzling in infinite patterns.
Smiles and laughs escaped Kazochi with no resistance. The machines were not particularly unique or efficient in design. But there were unique means of powering. Whatever this force was, it seemed limitless. No strain, only self sustaining.
Then a strange feeling crept into her. A corrupting. A scourge. Her fingers curled, tensed. Her smile started to quiver.
She turned to see Tohvso step out of the shadows. He held out several odd objects in his hands.
“Touch. And see.”
Instead of excitement, which she was sure she would feel, her hands hesitated.
In one palm was a spherical glass bottle with a bright red sludge. In the other was a prism shaped crystal with a smokey green-grey color wisping within.
Her hands timidly reached out, shaking and flinching.
Right when her fingertips touched the spherical bottle, she felt it. You know that savory feeling when you’ve come in from the frigid cold, put on fresh dry socks, and consume hot soup? Yes, that. She felt all of that. She looked down at her fingers. She had carelessly pulled out a hangnail not long ago, making a bloody mess of her digit. But the skin started pulling together and undoing the wound she hadn’t bothered to treat.
She pulled her hand away and then reached towards the crystal. Touch wasn’t necessary. She felt it while still centimeters away. It was on her skin, in her hair.
Again she looked at her hand. Her skin and hair was twitching minutely. Then, it started rhythmically shifting, like a heart or a breathing chest. Then her nails started breathing too. She pulled away as soon as she saw her veins starting to twitch.
She could start to feel sweat on her brow and her smile was long since gone.
“You feel it,” Tohvso declared. “Know it more.”
Placing the items in a pouch, Tohvso then pulled out a hand axe that he did have before he had left. He flipped it, catching the blade, handing the handle to Kazochi. She reached for it, noticing frost growing on Tohvso’s gauntlet fingers.
Gripping the weapon, Kazochi held it up to the light. The edge glinted with tiny specks, like snow on a field of grass. It was foolish, but she did what she did anyway. She slid her finger along the edge. An avalanche of pain ripped at her. Ice crystals grew on the cut, cutting deeper inward. In seconds, her skin turned black, necrotic, and rotten. She dropped the axe, shuddering, and clutching her wound.
Looking back through the window, her eyes widened again, realizing the chamber was larger than she initially thought. Beyond the machines and apparati, there were shelves, racks and crates filled with weapons, tools and armor. Each had unique glimmers, reflected from the energies that danced between the machines.
Tears finally burst through, streaming, flooding down her face. She fell to her knees, hands sliding down the glass.
“Now you see.”
————————————–
Plopping down in her seat, Kazochi’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Ayabegei and the others didn’t ask. What else could it be but acceptance?
“He’s right,” Kazochi finally mumbled. “Let’s leave.”
The drop ship lifted up into the sky, vanishing from the world.
————————————–
Once more he found himself staring upwards. Festival lights couldn’t drown out the glow of the night.
He wore no armor, but for once didn’t feel odd about it. Soft fibers strangely felt better than he thought they would. But he didn’t want it to be a habit, though he found himself disinterested in battle more often recently. It felt odd to be covered in so many scars and so elegant of cloth.
He looked around at the villagers celebrating, enjoying their harvest festival. He couldn’t deny the slight upward wind inside him. A certain feeling of being content was at odds with how he was raised.
Back then…
And again his eyes went up.
A lifetime had passed and still they hadn’t come. He had accepted that they might never come. Perhaps they were long gone. But instead he feared. He feared they actually would come. Or rather that eventually someone else. Someone will come, someday.
He looked around at the villagers who saw him as their own. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he had gone, he had seen a beautiful world. A magical world.
His feelings of ease fell into an abyss as infinite as the sky above.
————————————–
A gust of wind blew across the bluff. Tohvso stood motionless, focused entirely on the planet’s new visitors. They strode up, uniforms crisp and clean to an unreasonable degree, sunlight gleaming off their metal armor and weapons. What also beamed was the smug smile of one that could only be presumed to be in charge.
As the boss stopped, he threw a condescending smile at that which he probably viewed as a savage local.
Tohvso dissected each member of this entourage with his icy stare. There was the presumed leader with a formal suit that looked literally sharp. Behind him were two in large armor, looking like the knights of this world, but with armor of polymers, alloys, and circuits. In front were five soldiers. Their small arms and armor were more conventional for warfare, not unlike what Tohvso and his brothers used in battle. Then to the right side was an unarmed, unarmored individual. He carried a datapad, had a camera mounted on his shoulder, and carried some electronic equipment on his back. Tohvso noticed this scrawny one never maintained a focus on him or the others, instead tending to look at the ground. His uniform had many patches and tears.
“You’re the one who contacted us?” the boss asked with a family sized serving of skepticism.
Tohvso locked his eyes on the boss’ eyes. He didn’t answer. He stood silent, wind passing along his cape and over the armor made of monster bones.
With a scoff, the boss barked, “Scribe!” The scrawny one jumped, looking towards the boss. But the knights snarled and the scribe’s gaze instantly returned downward with a flinch.
“Have the record show the contact was unresponsive. Unsettlingly and with intimidation.”
“Ye…ye..yeyes sir,” the Scribe stammered as he made a quick flurry of strokes on his data pad.
“Yes I am,” Tohvso finally answered, his voice a low boom across the bluff.
He then removed his helmet, revealing his identity. This drew a pretentious chuckle from the boss.
“Oh ho ho, how fascinating! How did one of YOU get here? I’m sure it’s a thrilling story,” he oozed. Sincerely in wonder or not did nothing to reduce the revulsion one would naturally feel.
“You’re the representative of this planet?” he continued, snapping his fingers towards the scribe, reminding him to keep recording.
Again, Tohvso said nothing. He stood motionless in his armor. His hand rested calmly on his sword’s scabbard. His other hand hung loose, fingers moving with the wind.
“I’ve been selected as so,” he finally answered.
“What’s your name?” the boss asked.
Tohvso didn’t answer. Growing impatient, the boss didn’t bother waiting.
“This planet has been sold at auction,” the boss started. “I, Trett Kasmetigenkia Kold, City-Buyer of the Stalwarts, am now the rightful owner of this entire planet and everything on it. The land, the resour-”
“It wasn’t for sale,” Tohvso interrupted.
The sky suddenly turned dark as heavy, black clouds quickly filled the sky. Everyone’s eyes went upward to witness this insane event. There was no thunder, no lightning, only darkness with a faint violet glow.
Only two sets of eyes hadn’t looked up. Both Tohvso and the boss stared each other down. The boss’ smile gradually twisted even further upward, then suddenly went dour. His group felt this shift, and tensed.
“We’re being threatened by a hostile element,” Boss said, shedding any further cheekiness. “We fear for our lives and will react to protect ourselves.”
The troops raised their weapons, aiming towards Tohvso. Simultaneous clicks indicated removed safeties. The scribe scurried behind the large knights, getting smacked to the ground by them as he bumped into them.
“The scribe has been knocked down and can’t visually record the scene,” Boss continued, a hint of glee hidden in his now stern voice.
As clearly trained, the scribe pointed his body and its attached camera towards the ground. He trembled fiercely.
“The native element is charging us! Open fire!”
When they started shooting, it must have come as a surprise to them when Tohvso followed through on this suggestion and charged them down.
Various exclamations and profanity made the scribe look up, pointing the camera up in turn.
Tohvso was clearing the distance at terrifying speed. Discs formed around him. They looked like entire tornados compressed into meter wide circles. When the energy bolts of the soldiers’ rifles hit them, the shots were redirected wildly off course.
A knight stepped forward, lowering its enormous sword. It unfolded, shifted, refolded and so forth until a prominent barrel appeared.
Out came a solid, translucent beam of energy. With a gargantuan width, the soldiers ducked for cover. It illuminated the darkness, screeching towards Tohvso. Apparently, the tornado shields weren’t strong enough as they melted instantly on contact. But Tohvso had managed to dodge in time. He had somehow jumped up over a half dozen meters to the side. The knight drew his cannon’s still firing beam up diagonally to catch Tohvso in the air.
Smoke gathered around Tohvso’s empty hand. This grew into a giant mass of smoke, then compressed into shape. Now a giant metal cannon had formed around his arm. All from nothing, a big ass gun. Its weight made Tohvso plummet, dodging under the knight’s beam.
With an earth shattering crash, the cannon landed on a set of four legs on its underside, with Tohvso atop it.
Shattering! The earth and now the ears ruptured. A blinding flash in the darkness, and the knight’s head was gone. Not displaced, not fragmented; it was disintegrated.
Panic set in right as the head-ectomy patient’s body crumpled to the ground. The other knight fired his weapons and reduced Tohvso’s weapon to smoldering slag.
But Tohvso was already on the move. Gunfire from the soldiers and remaining knight was considerably disorganized. He didn’t even need his tornado barriers.
Tohvso drew the rifle from his back and erupted fire on the soldiers. Loud clangs sounded as bullets bounced off armored points on the soldiers. Several shots got through to the gooey flesh between the gaps in armor. One soldier clutched his side, one fell to a knee as the other knee bled, and one last one gripped the section where shoulder meets neck.
Each howled in agony as large shards of ice exploded out from the wounds. In order, the first soldier lost half their torso as it blasted out, the second’s knee and thigh split right down the middle, and the third hardly made a sound as the shard of ice pushed right up the neck and out the top of the head.
The one with one less leg whined in feverish delirium, writhing around on the ground. His companions were motionless, staring at the carnage they had just witnessed. But their shellshock lasted two seconds too many; Tohvso was now on top of them.
He drew his sword with one hand while firing his rifle into the nearby knight’s helmeted face. These shots bounced off harmlessly, but blinded him temporarily. It was enough time to dispatch the remaining two soldiers with one precise swing each.
Flailing about, the knight swung his cannon about. Tohvso had dropped to his knee as his rifle emptied, pushing down his sword to finish the soldier who had persisted in living despite having his leg destroyed.
Shifting, unfolding, the knight’s cannon switched back to a sword. Its blade was a thin flat blade of cyan light. One could smell the air burn as it took form.
He swung down with a giant chop. Skillfully, Tohvso dodged away. The blade effortlessly carved through the mono-legged, headless corpse, and through the ground below. The ground was presumptuous to think it couldn’t be slashed through like empty air.
Tohvso threw his sword to the side, not even glancing in that direction. It flew across the field and sliced the thigh of the fleeing boss. The boss had started fleeing as he had finally picked himself up off the ground after the shock of the first knight getting a little lighter weakened his legs. He started hobbling, crying, screaming at anyone and everyone to stop the rampaging hostile.
The knight let loose a barrage of frantic, maddened slashes. The stench of burning air filled Tohvso’s nose as he deftly dodged every slash.
Smoke again. It gathered once more in Tohvso’s hands, solidifying into a giant bone, nearly as tall as himself.
That breath. That first breath of fatigue. Many going ballistic, straight bananas, overlook that first breath. Usually, one catches the second or third breath and compensates. But the first one often goes unnoticed.
This phenomena and its exploitation was demonstrated to the knight as the bone crashed right into the side of his head. Primitive tech to advanced machinery sent a ringing cacophony through the knight’s head. Before sense could return to the ringing noggin, another brutal blow was delivered to his shoulder. And then another to the stomach.
Fury subsided in the knight. Confused despair bludgeoned him too. “How is a savage with a literal bone killing me?” he thought to himself. “What kind of strength is needed to me so much through this armor? I want to go home.”
A thunderous slam to the chest emptied the knight’s lungs. His swings had deteriorated to tired, slow-motion arcs. Tohvso grabbed the knight’s arm and crashed his club into the inside of the elbow. The knight’s grip failed. Tohvso caught the sword as his own club disappeared into a puff of smoke.
The knight’s last thought before his thoughts became quite split was a calming reassurance that his patronage wouldn’t be forgotten. His benefactor, his lord, would wipe this monster out and all the riches would surely make them invincible. His lord would remember him and praise him. He might even get a statue.
The two halves of this knight fell apart, parting as curtains with Tohvso striding right between him.
“Kill him! Stop him!”
Tohvso was already rapidly approaching. The boss had almost reached the Sayr drop ship. He was currently jostling with his scribe, throwing him to the ground behind him, towards the looming menace.
Tohvso dropped the sword, and began a full sprint. The dropped sword melted through the ground, stopping after a few meters as some automatic system turned it off.
The boss threw a side arm down at the sprawled scribe.
“Kill him! Hold him back! I’ll erase all your family’s debts! Just do it! Think of your family!”
Tohvso was already almost upon them. He grabbed his own sword off the ground from when he had thrown it.
Boss was at the boarding ramp, pulling his injured leg to go up. Tohvso was less than 15 meters away. Shaking hands pointed the pistol at the incoming threat. The scribe’s eyes filled with tears and his pants with urine. He screamed and fired multiple times. Shot after panicky shot rattled off, hoping luck would kill what all those trained soldiers could not.
He pleaded, screamed, begged for this hostile to die. All he could see was his wife and daughters still living under the crushing pressure of the family debt. Sayr debts don’t get erased unless you’re already rich. And this employer was one of his worst. He would never keep his promise. But the scribe could do nothing if he himself was dead. So he kept firing.
Then, suddenly, he couldn’t. Physically impossible. He opened his eyes to see his hands empty. Looking around his feet, he thought maybe he dropped it. Remembering his own life, he felt around his body and found himself intact. Turning, he saw the native leap up the loading ramp into the Sayr drop ship. The ship had its engines started and had just started leaving the ground. Instead, the ship set right back down.
Out came the native, dragging the boss by his good leg. He threw him out on the ground, sliding him. The boss recovered and pulled another side arm from his pant leg. It was pointless. Tohvso snatched it right out of his hand. The boss started to say something but was interrupted when that same pistol was bounced off of his head.
He cursed and hollered as he rolled about.
“It’s him!” he screamed, pointing at the scribe. “He’s the actual commander!”
The scribe froze.
“It’s protocol! The commander is always secret while the fake is a decoy!”
Tohvso drew from a pouch the pistol he took from the scribe.
The boss again opened his mouth and was again met with a flying pistol to the dome.
“A commander wouldn’t close their eyes while shooting. Or lose control in other ways.”
The scribe wasn’t ready for a sudden wave of embarrassment.
“Please, please don’t kill me,” the boss cried.
Tohvso drew a different, shorter sword from his back.
“I’m begging you! I’ll leave your planet alone.”
The scribe felt an intense urge to shout out that the boss was a liar, but it hardly felt necessary.
“Don’t kill me,” the boss sobbed as Tohvso kneeled down, placing the tip of the sword to his chest.
“This is worse,” Tohvso declared.
He calmly pushed the sword into the boss’ chest.
No blood came up to his lips like many cases of internal bleeding. The boss’ face went from self pity to confusion. His face started melting, his limbs softening. Then he ruptured like a water balloon. All of him exploded outward and then got sucked inward. He flushed into the sword, vanishing into the metal.
Tohvso held up the sword. The boss’ voice could faintly be heard. His face reflected from within the blade.
The scribe watched with a strange sense of calmness. Even as the native approached, he felt nothing. Probably because he was unstoppable. Why flee?
“What’s your name?”
“Jusk…” the scribe mumbled. “Juskitolenik.”
“Mine is Tohvso Aht-Third.”
The scribe merely nodded.
“Can you fly the ship?” Tohvso inquired.
“Yes. A little,” Juskitolenik replied, distant, like in a daze. “But it doesn’t matter. The Astounding Majestic, er… the main ship, saw all of…that.”
He gestured to the strewn remains across the ground.
“They’ll send more down. Or do an orbital strike. You seem pretty strong, but I think an entire cruiser’s troops or cannons might be too much.”
“They don’t know,” Tohvso declared. “The clouds above. They’re pure confusion. No vision. No sensor.”
Juskitolenik looked up at the dark clouds. He had to admit, they didn’t look normal, but he figured this world had odd weather.
“H….how?” Juskitolenik asked meekly.
“Another time,” Tohvso deflected. “I’ll load the bodies. Clean up.”
Juskitolenik’s confusion of if the last sentence was a command was halted as Tohvso turned towards him, holding out the sidearm he had taken.
“Will you help me?” Tohvso asked.
Juskitolenik was too befuddled.
“I’m not a fighter,” he non-answered. He was distracted by a sudden odd sight.
Skeletons had crawled up from the ground and were dragging the bodies onto the ship. He felt strange that he wasn’t afraid. He had been too afraid earlier. No fear left.
One of the skeletons came up to him, and held out a pair of pants pulled from one of the dead soldiers. Juskitolenik discretely took them.
“Your family,” Tohvso opened. “Are they aboard the Majestic?”
“No,” Juskitolenik answered. Then he felt himself wake back up.
“No! I have to go to them! They’re at the outpost!”
Panic now gripped him and he nearly fell as he struggled with the pants.
“I’ll take you there,” Tohvso answered coolly, beckoning all the remaining skeletons aboard the drop ship. “You can help if you want. Your former boss will help too.”
He drew out the short sword. The boss’ voice could be heard as the blade left the leather scabbard, begging for death.
“Let’s steal a cruiser.”
Something about this person, this native, calmed Juskitolenik in a way he didn’t feel was possible. He had just seen some horrible shit, and skeletons, dark clouds of mystery, a sword that held his former boss within, and now talk of hijacking a Sayr cruiser? Impossible. Insane! But Juskitolenik felt a strange magnetism.
Juskitolenik boarded along with Tohvso.
“Besides,” Juskitolenik thought to himself. “It’s the only ride home.”
————————————–
They hijacked the ship. Too easy. Within months, they had a small fleet. Juskitolenik was reunited with his family, but they all joined this new paradigm.
The Detached Paradigm.
Tohvso Aht-Third’s oasis was born. Aht-Third had carved out a section of the cosmos for his world. The people of this world accepted the reality that they were not alone in the universe and that there were more universes beyond. But they were honored to have someone powerful and determined enough to protect them.
Aht-Third’s world grew bigger than he originally planned. Detached Paradigm grew into dozens of orbital colonies. It drew in the exploited soldiers, the indebted conscripts, and those made to be killers who had no flags to follow but those who hated them.
Sayr reviled this new neighbor’s birth. Omneewaet’teemb wasn’t happy. T.U.S.C. found it amusing until their own soldiers began defecting. Anlov was the first and most fervent to recognize the new Sphere.
Detached Paradigm became a Sphere of renowned power. They worked as fearsome mercenaries, fighting for the causes they found just. However, they sought no expansion. All the same, they took their place among the stars.
Anlov Record 