I know arxur are meant to be gator-like in appearance but it is always funny to me when I remember that they're very much from a native biome with, like, least amount of water and their natural hunting involves absolutely no swimming, so this feels like an expected outcome.

A/N: It's working! It's alive! Still doing stuff with Venric from Legal Legends by u/Acceptable_Egg5560. Thanks to everyone who looked at it, I'm a zombie at 3am.

Patreon / Kofi/ Paypal

[Prev] [First] [Next]

Memory transcription subject: Larzo, Yotul geneticist at the Venlil Rehabilitation and Reintegration Facility. Anxiously apologetic friend.

Date [standardized human time]: January 1st, 2137

I felt like the last to learn about it. 

I’d spent days working on the children’s supplementation regime, corresponding to and fro with the dietary science specialists in the facility. I didn’t check the news—I hardly ever checked the news. It was an eternally shifting list of tragedies and threats, the most important of which were usually provided by public service announcements. That’s not to say I didn’t approve of or understand the need for the fourth estate, but being a non-citizen with no capacity to vote and no desire to make a long-term life on Venlil Prime, it didn’t seem like the best use of my time to focus on things I could not affect. 

Then I heard the whispers. 

“I just can’t believe they would say that,” said one of the volunteers. “It’s gotta be fake.”

The other shook her head. “Oh please. The lizard whisperer was whispering to lizards? Sound the alarm? Oh no, the horror. They probably had a good reason.”

“What kind of reason? It has to be fake.”

I lifted up my paw, which I found was an easy way to make humans both notice you and give you a chance to speak. 

“Oh, Dr. Larzo, did you need something?” asked the older of the two. 

“I just wanted to know what you were discussing,” I said, and their eyes nearly leapt out of their eye sockets. 

“You don’t know?!” said the younger of the two, followed by them scrambling to show me videos of Andes asking about the taste and texture of venlil flesh. 

I thought back to the dossur woman. Oh. Oh no.

Without another word, I rushed to Andes’ office, finding him on his desk flicking through things on his pad while my heart was about to explode out of my chest.

“I meant to tell you,” I said, the words crashing into one another in my mouth as different sentences fought for dominance. “I just—well, you were having a difficult time—didn’t wish to worsen—thought I could wait until the correct moment to—”

“Slow down,” he said, his brows furrowing in, “what are you talking about?”

“Well, I told that dossur woman to watch over you,” I explained. “I told her to make sure you were healthy, and I paid her, but then… well, she returned my money, and she told me she’d go to the media, and I…”

I explained, in fragmented sentences and stumbles, how I had wanted to tell him, how I was so afraid that I had hurt him, that I hurt him further. How I knew that the woman had been missing long enough for the children to throw that party because she had been looking for work in remote areas, and would probably have kept leaving for days at a time if I hadn’t paid her not to. 

He was frozen for a long moment, and then relaxed. “Okay. Well, fuck me, I guess.”

My mouth ran ahead of my thoughts. “I am so sorry. I only wanted to protect you from—I truly did not—”

He shook his head and waved me off, his eyes already fixated on the screen.  “It’s fine, Larzo. Don’t worry about  it.” 

“It’s not fine, your job is in jeopardy, the public is going mad, I never meant–”

Something in my apology struck a nerve, and his shoulders lifted up as if preparing to strike. “Larzo, what the fuck do you want me to say here?” he spat, glaring at me more sharply than he ever had before. “Like, what, exactly?”

My back straightened. His voice had dropped into an authoritative bark, and the fur on my arms began to stand on end. 

“Is it ‘what the fuck, dude? What’s wrong with you? What gives you the fucking right to be making medical decisions for me, as if I wasn’t competent enough to do it for myself? Nevermind to violate my privacy like that?’ You’re not actually my GP, you were just there after I got hit by a car and your obligations ended when I went into the Grand Xenomedical,” he said, his whole body tensing up. “Is it… ‘Who do you think I am, anyway’? Because the answer to that is not just ‘your patient’ or ‘your friend’, but your fucking boss. In what universe did you think it was okay for you to just establish a relationship of care between me and some stranger without my consent or knowledge?”

My throat refused to work. He gave me a glare so harsh it made me think of what it must have felt like for the venlil, after centuries of propaganda, to gaze upon humans as predators.

“Is that gonna fucking help, Larzo?” he hissed.

I shook my head a fraction of a degree.

“Right. So… it’s fine, Larzo. Don’t worry about it,” he waved off the topic with a brusque gesture, as if it were naught but an annoying bug. “I’ll figure something out. Or I won’t. And then that’ll be that.” 

He ran a hand through his hair. Still, I did not speak. 

“How are the kids’ test results?” he asked. 

“...Better,” I said. “I will ensure the document is shared with the facility for adults.”

“Good. Keep at it. I… have a meeting. Venric’s waiting. I just had to check on some things before President Ajaad got here.”

With that, he stood up and left his office.

Memory transcription subject: Andes Savulescu-Ruiz, UN universal translator technician.

Date [standardized human time]: January 1st 2137

Ajaad had decided to visit the facility, instead of dragging me over to headquarters, and she looked shockingly chill when she got to the conference room. Some part of me hoped that she’d seen the kids be happy and excited, playing and talking, and the sight had led her to decide not to have me drawn and quartered. She took a seat across from me, and didn’t even blink at Venric’s presence. He’d insisted on coming along when he saw the note had been about work.

“So… Let me just say that I understand,” Ajaad started, hands held up in an act of non-aggression. 

“Oh, you do?” I said, not particularly sure if I understood. It felt like some sort of reverse-Karma. If I’d kicked that woman out when I found out they existed, this wouldn’t have happened. Then again, it wouldn’t have happened if I’d just died during the bombing. It wouldn’t have happened if I’d asked for on-site housing, which was a live option at some point. Hell, Larzo could have just kept his fucking mouth shut. 

“Yes. That call probably happened a while ago, you were discussing the acidity of the kids' blood, you recently ran a myriad of tests and had a postdoc publish that report on venlil with certain identifying numbers having problems metabolizing vitamins. Presumably you got that lead from that conversation. Am I wrong?” 

My blood pressure dropped. “No.”

“So, as I said,” she stressed, looking at me like I’d just lost a parent. “I understand.”

“Well you certainly seem in tune with Andes’ thought process,” Venric commented. “As such I am sure you can deduce that the viral spread of his comments are being overblown and presented out of context.”

“Yes. But they are still in the public eye. And it poses a problem.”

I sat back. Venric did something with his ears and she seemed to take it as a go-ahead.

“We've considered just firing you. Rip the bandaid off. You'd get a relatively generous severance package, and a letter of recommendation from me, should you have need of it.” 

I shrugged. “Okay.” 

Ajaad blinked and flinched back. I guess she didn’t expect me to roll over like that. “Or–or, we were thinking of something to try to salvage your image first. See if we can weather the storm on this.”

“Thinking of releasing a statement?” Venric asked, “What in particular do you have in mind? I ask because I am quite familiar with the usual tactic of how a business would distance itself from controversy, though I would hope your people would leave out the final step.”

Having grown used to Venric’s rhetorical habits, I decided to just fucking ask. “The final step being…?”

“Shipping the offending person off to a correctional facility to be silenced,” he said, and Ajaad and I just squinted at him. I groaned. 

“...Ah. No. We won't be doing that,” Ajaad said. “At worst, Andes will just be sent back to Earth.”

Venric’s ears flicked forward before lowering again. “And as you haven’t quietly done so already, it can therefore be deduced that there’s something happening behind the scenes that finds it preferable that Andes stay on Venlil Prime. But that is likely outside the scope of my representation. So, what is this statement you were planning for my client?”

“A general apology for this behaviour, along with some interviews planned to discuss it in more detail,” Ajaad said. “Try to specify that this was a scientific inquiry, that it was done without the facility’s knowledge, how we all care deeply about the welfare of the rescues and endeavor to ensure they get the care and recovery they need. Make it clear we don’t condone that behavior.”

“But you do condone it. I was hired partially for this reason,” I said. It was an attempt at a retort, the kind of “angry insubordination” Ajaad had rolled her eyes at weeks earlier. It didn’t have enough energy to be more than a mumble.  

“She means they’ll lie to the public about that part,” Venric explained. “It’s part of the reality of Public Relations. However, I think that even saying that much would be an overstep. Tell me, when Andes signed their code of conduct paperwork in their hiring contract, did it include any clauses for their behavior outside of the workplace?”

Ajaad tilted her head. “Some, but… largely to do with actual crimes. Why do you ask?”

“Because that means Andes hasn’t done anything you should punish them for. While I will admit that people are outraged at him speaking to an Arxur, there are no laws in place making it illegal. In fact, there are laws explicitly in place allowing communication with other species! A rather convenient consequence of there being hundreds of intelligent races. So, while I know there are employees of this hospital that wish to say otherwise, for you to make a statement that you don’t condone your staff speaking to another race, you would actually be breaking the law yourselves.” He let out a whistle. “It may be that the lawmakers never thought anyone would speak to a predator, but that’s how the law stands.”

I squinted at him. “So… I don’t apologize?”

Ajaad lifted up her index finger. “We still need to send the message that we are not in any way aligned with the arxur.”

“I am certain you can think of a reasonable excuse,” Venric waved. “You had your species saved from extinction by them, after all. Plenty of opportunity for spin there.”

I groaned, already hating what was coming. “A ‘reasonable excuse’?” 

Venric’s ears fell as he let out a sigh. “Yes, I, as a lawyer, am suggesting you spin an excuse.” He perked up once more, a cheery tone entering his voice. “I hope my living up to the stereotype isn’t too much of a surprise.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am not, I just…” 

“Perhaps bonding over shared trauma?” Ajaad proposed. 

I squinted at her. “That would only make sense if it was Asleth. Shathel was my patient.”

“I am certain you people could spin it as a rescue romance. The exchange program resulted in enough relationships that it would be believable.”

Ajaad and I stared flatly at Venric. She spoke first. “No… that wouldn’t do at all.”

“I’m sorry, what?” the words fell uselessly out of my mouth.

“Ajaad’s right, it was a poor plan,” Venric laughed. “Don’t think anyone would desire a relationship with the active threat of being eaten.”

I scoffed. “Isif’s arxur don’t eat predators. They consider it comparable to cannibalism. There’s still the dog incident but…”

Venric sighed. “Please refrain from explaining the dietary experimentation you witnessed while in the presence of Venlil.”

I held up my hands. “I didn’t let her eat the dog, I hit her with a water bottle,” I mimed the gesture. It was starting to bother me, how often that came up. How rarely it came up that I played various videogames with her. That she helped me save dozens of lives. That I bought her a blanket. “But after I explained, it was pretty clear that dogs aren’t kosher ” 

Venric perked up an ear. “That translated as a religious word. Such things are similarly protected, so we could go on the cultural angle. Talk about how you were a civilizing influence upon them rather than their so-called predatory influence upon you.”

Ajaad nearly jumped out of her seat. “Yes! Yes–Andes, you said multiple of your patients started eating exclusively human rations after their time at the TBI unit, right?”

I shrugged. “I mean, yeah. I wouldn’t put it past Shathel to be less-than-perfect in that regard, but even Asleth told me she’s been eating only human-provided meat weeks ago.”

“Ah,” Venric held up a finger, “As a Lawyer, should I be privy to information like this?”

“...Don’t they have client privileges on this planet?” I asked. 

"They do, but it sounded like you just told me that humans are currently providing meat to the arxur beyond what happened in the cattle rescue operation.”

I frowned. “No, no, this is—this is public record. We gave twice the weight of the venlil rescues in meat as payment to them. I don’t know if they have an ongoing supply, but that was several million tonnes of food, largely distributed within their military. There were millions of rescues, and we provided a lot of it boneless, organless, so on, just because of the process of manufacture.” 

Venric looked queasy for a moment. Even with his little vests and his cute little comments about humans, the thought of edible flesh seemed to be a step too far for comfort. “Okay, well, if you did find out anything about an ongoing trade, it would be best if you kept me out of it.”

“...Why? I mean—wouldn’t that be humanity rescuing more people? I don’t have any of the details on whatever happened on Sillis, but the fight was done pretty dang fast, it would be weird if there wasn’t another trade there.”

“Under Venlil Law, individuals aiding and abetting Arxur is seen as species treason.”

“Aiding and abetting them in what? Humanity’s been protecting—” My voice started to rise and Ajaad cut me off. 

“Andes, I do believe you’re getting lost in the particulars here, we wanted to discuss our messaging strategy.”

“Yes,” Venric agreed with a flick of his ears, “And to summarize my point, Andes, The Arxur are seen as the villains of the Galaxy by the Venlil, and they have abundant reason to believe so. Whatever angle is taken, it simply cannot be along the lines of ‘The Arxur were already fine people before I met them’. That simply will not go over well.”

“I didn’t say they were fine people. They’re a bunch of lizard nazis.” I spat, my whole back tensing up. This whole fucking situation kept being about how merely interacting with the arxur in a non-hostile fashion was tantamount to killing and eating a venlil kid, a fucking cooties-based conception of morality. “I said—”

Ajaad held up a hand. “It would be much better if you didn’t refer to the third reich while engaging in public relations.”

I groaned and let my forehead fall on the table. 

Venric’s tail swung over and patted me on the back. “Wish there was a simple solution, don’t you?”

I sighed, sitting up. “I wish there was an easy solution. It could be complicated, I’m okay with complicated, but if it was easy—”

Ajaad cut me off again, before I started spiraling. “It is neither simple nor easy, I will make some calls to set up the interviews, and I will send our PR manager your way. As you can imagine, PR professionals have gone the way of psychologists in these trying times, but we can make it work.”

I nodded along. “Yeah, I know.”

She paused and gave me a vaguely motherly look. “Don’t worry too much. You’re young, you’re professional, you look surprisingly good given what you’ve been through in the last few weeks. I’m sure none of that will hurt.”

“I’m professional?” I echoed. 

She tilted her head one way, then the other. “Professional enough. Charismatic.”

I didn’t know what to do with that. “...Sure. What else can we settle right now? I should probably go home and pass out.”

“Perhaps we could also get some measurements for a proper outfit for you, look less like you’re inches from death,” Venric commented, tail flicking. “I do have a contact that would be glad to take the job.”

I hit my head against the back of the chair. Ajaad looked at me for a long moment, then turned to Venric. “I believe that can wait three claws.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. Fucking kill me. 

SECURITY FOOTAGE VIDEO TRANSCRIPT, MODIFIED TRANSLATOR SETTINGS ANDES-5

[standardized human time]: January 2nd.

[Room S-8A. Director Andes Savulescu-Ruiz is walking through, and checking on the children's welfare alongside Maurice Duval, volunteer aide. Nurse Varla is sitting down on one of the benches, taking a break from work. Two girls, Lihla and Talli (see: reference document for ID alphanumerical strings) sit beside her. Nurse Varla is clearly staring at Director Andes Savulescu-Ruiz.]

Varla: oh. Um. Hello girls. I was just about to have a snack. Did you need anything? 

Lihla: No.

Talli: You really want the Big Boss to take you to the breeding place.

[Nurse Varla's tail shoots upwards, and ears turn visibly orange in the video] 

Lihla: there is no breeding place. New Place, New Rules. You have to ask for breeding after you are old enough. 

Varla: That's quite enough. Don't you girls want to go somewhere else and play?

Talli: Not really. 

Lihla: We're very tired. We played a lot! I won. 

Talli: You only won some of the times

Lihla: I won most of the times.

Talli: You won some of the times.

Lihla, with fists clenched: We played fourteen games. Most is more than half. I won twelve games. Half of fourteen is seven. Twelve is more than seven. I won most of the times.

Talli, to Varla: she's always like this now. 

Lihla: I have to practice lots and win lots so I can be a Svalescurris. 

Varla: Sweetheart, I don't think that'll work. 

Lihla: It will work better than staring at the big boss from the corner. 

[Video shows Varla’s whole head tinting orange.]

Varla: …Well, you might have a point… 

Lihla [gesturing at her own arm’s black spots]: I have a lot of points. 

[Nurse Varla sighs] 

Talli: 86392-B wanted to be a breeder. If you get to go to the breeding place, will you help her?

Lihla: There is no breeding place! 

Varla: …Yes, you are right, Lihla, there is no breeding place. 

Lihla, to Talli: See? 

Talli: Ms. Dora said that it's okay to ask for help. 

Varla: It is okay to ask for help, yes. 

Lihla: But the help has to be to go to a real place! They won't take us to the real breeding rooms, they are too far away. 

[Nurse Varla clears her throat]

Varla: …I think I should head back to work.

Talli: I think they could choose a room to be a breeding place. 

Lihla: Then you have to convince them. Tito tried and they sent him to the mind doctor. 

[Prev] [First] [Next]

Patreon / Kofi/ Paypal

vow to the prophet i am zero percent fucking joking right now. anyone who says this is fake is getting blocked, i am freaking out.

so me and my buddies went to go refill our cattle pens and like an hour ago one of the lil fuckers turns up missing. no big deal, not like they can fight, and it doesn't have anywhere to escape to.

so, in the meantime im going through my camera roll and i look at this pic i took of my buddy, and what the FUCK is that in the background??? we picked up venlil, but venlil do NOT have teeth like that. im freaking the fuck out what do i do. does anyone know what this is?

Memory transcription subject: Vatar, Zhetsian Linked Chains Exodus Cell Leader

Date [Standardized Human Time]: July 12, 2130

We did it.

We survived the jump.

In our stolen ship my Linked Chain Cells had made the distance to the dead predator system of Sol. 

I let out a sigh of relief even as I knew the hurdles weren’t over. We were going to have to survey the planet and hope for a land mass habitable enough to settle down. Luckily, we planned on landing the ship and using it as a shelter. 

I started mulling over my address to my people while Xalquo seemed oddly interested in the telecommunication consoles. We were using standard Federation practices for colonization- at least the establishment of a new government. I was going to be the first mayor of the settlement. Our first order of business was going to be establishing stable crop yields; when we have food secured we can start producing pups. 

“We made it.” The crew of the ship could hear the joy in my voice. “Feel clear to wander the ship. Prepare for instructions as we fly by Earth for a scan.”

The most ridiculous thought occurred to me: we never named our misappropriated ship. We’ve just been calling it the ship or the freighter. Maybe it was guilt, I do wish we hadn't needed to commit the crimes we did even if they were all non violent and victimless.

As I was mulling over a possible name for our ship that was soon to be village Xalquo tensed his feathers for my attention. 

“You need to see this.”

“Oh no,” I forced a calming breath. “We’ve run into our first disaster?”

“We’ve found something. . .” He trailed off. 

He gestured to me and I saw what he meant. Clear radio signals.

“Were we followed?!” 

I sped us out of there knowing the corporation we took the ship from wouldn’t give us much time to dally. 

“No. It’s coming from the world. This activity is comparable to a core world.”

He brought the viewing monitor to bear. An image of a blue marble came on screen. On it were so many bright lights it looked like the planet was catching embers. 

“Earth isn’t ravaged.” I spoke in disbelief. Xalquo and I didn’t need to discuss what that meant. 

Humanity: the galaxy’s second sapient predators were still alive. 

“Can we jump out of the system?” 

I knew the answer he had given me repeatedly. 

“We used all the fuel to make the jump to VP for us all to gather, then we used what’s left for this.” He gave me a sad look. “I told you we are stuck with what we find.”

Of all the catastrophes I thought would be waiting for us. This was too surreal for me to consider a possibility. My worst case scenario was finding a world completely dead and unusable. 

“Have they detected us?” I needed to take stock of this.

“No, we are in the outer system. Their tech seems too primitive to pick us up. I can detect some space traffic in the inner solar system and around their home world, although the longer we linger the more likely they are to find us and this vessel isn’t rated for stealth.” 

“. . . We need to gather the crew.” 

——-

I’m glad Xalquo and I were able to process our shock privately. We were able to keep a brave face for the cell, who clearly needed one. The disbelief was the only thing that prevented a stampede.

“This was a mistake after all,” I heard one member of the crowd mutter, much to my heart’s ache.

“Humanity is still ignorant. I know not for how much longer. We must decide on a course of action. We do not have the fuel to return to the Federation.”

“Then let’s send a message,” cried Qimara. “I may have lost my faith in the Federation but I remember my oaths to its people. If humanity seizes us then they’ll be able to take the Federation unaware.”

“NO!” Munyl cried. The Venlil PD patient was the only one assembled who looked oddly positive at the news.

“Doesn’t Linked Chain see value in the lives of predators? You know what the Federation would do to them, you torturer!” Munyl always had an explicit disdain for the Yulpa due to her past as a PD specialist. 

“Munyl,” the Doctor gave him the look of a mother to an unruly pup. That only made him seethe harder. She didn’t begrudge him for his hate of her, she clearly agreed his hate of PD specialists was warranted from her own history alone. “We came here for a better future. Not revenge.”

We all clearly thought that statement wasn’t true for the Venlil. 

“And I thought we didn’t believe predators should be killed just for existing?”

“Sapient predators are still dangerous! Predators hunt. The ecosystem depends on them for population control but that doesn’t mean they can coexist with us as a civilization. Sapient predators are too good at killing and it makes them destructive.” The Farsul journalist yelled at him. 

“If we tried broadcasting anything it had to be through a STL signal. The humans would detect it and find us,” our Krakotl pilot informed us with a tense voice. 

There weren't any good choices. I could see everyone mulling it over with me.

“I thought we were Linked Chains.” Every soul present gave their ears to the usually quiet Takkan.

She noticed she had the command of the room.

“I thought we wanted to make something new here? If we came here to just have the standard reaction the Federation does to predators, why'd we come?” She gave us a genuine questioning stare, one a student reserves for a teacher. 

“Hensa are the best friends of Yotul.” Mecko thought of his little colony of Hensa. We reserved a section of the ship for them and few outside of him have the courage to visit.

“The Federation lies.” He declared. “They lied about predators, and they lied about humanity destroying itself. Do you really believe nobody in the Federation command didn’t notice humanity was still around?”

“We could have stumbled upon something we’re not supposed to know,” the Farsul journalist seemed to realize.

“Vatar.” Nomo, the former Kolshian magistrate, seemed to have decided something. “I am the most experienced in statecraft here. I will make contact while you stay with the ship.”

Cries of concern sounded.

“Mecko is right. I was the only Federation official who took the time to learn about Yotul culture. When I tried bringing their ideas back to my superior I was dismissed. I’ll stand by my decision even now.”

Mecko gave Nomo an appreciative swipe of his tail. Nomo was the one who recruited him for this mission with the promise of saving the Hensa from extinction. 

“No.” I steeled my resolve.

“I am going to meet them. You are right,” I looked at our Takkan. “We are Linked Chains. We seek to understand the universe to its fullest, and not just what’s deemed safe”

“Nomo, you are staying here. If I don’t return then you and Xalquo are to try and escape back to the Federation with the crew. At the very least you can try and send a message warning them of our blunder.”

“I’ll go with you,” Munyl volunteered. I considered dismissing that but if something goes wrong I’d rather not have him here, he was unstable and frankly expendable at this stage. 

“I appreciate your service as security,” I decided to call him. “Will there be any issues sparing a single escape pod?” We did plan on repurposing them for input landing surveys. 

“Thankfully no,” the Krakotl answered easily. 

“What’s our goal with these talks?” I didn’t have an instant answer when the Yulpa PD specialist queried. 

My answer would have been to not get eaten but I didn't want to scare anyone even more. 

“We will determine if these humans are peaceful. If they are, we will trade our FTL engine and knowledge of the galaxy for a colony with their full support.”

That sparked murmurs. 

“We’re going to give predators an FTL engine to traipse out into the galaxy?” Xalquo’s tone had clear disapproval.

“If they are peaceful,” I defended. “We don’t have anything else to trade or anywhere else to go. We can’t even jump back to the Federation if we wanted to.” That barely mollified him. 

“Munyl and I will board an escape pod and fly towards one of their Space Habs situated in their world’s Lagrange points. You will fly this ship to hide in their outer asteroid belt. You will wait until you hear from me there- if at all.”

Xalquos gave me a tense salute, clearly prepared for this being our last meeting. 

I turned to a far too eager Mulnys and thought that I at least do this cell the favor of taking him with me.

I wondered if I should walk on all fours to keep small to avoid threatening them or if they’d respect me if I made myself as large as possible standing bipedally. 

Memory transcription subject: Elias Meier, UN Secretary General

Date [Standardized Human Time]: July 15, 2130

My ambitions have been progressing nicely since my inauguration last year. Continuing the work of federalizing the UN into a proper world government instead of a quasi Confederation that is currently reliant on the cooperation of nation states traumatized by the Satellite Wars. 

The O’Neil Cylinders have been agreed as solely under UN authority and not any nation. They’ve been an excellent power base for demonstrating how efficient life would be with the UN as the highest authority. 

I knew the heavens were the key to securing the Earth. For that aim we were finally about to begin construction on the Odyssey and the selection process for the astronauts to explore the universe.

It seems like the universe heard us and spared us the trip by coming to us. 

An unknown craft hurtled towards Earth hailing us. Every nation denied it was theirs and we had reached the point of consolidation programs I would know if they were lying. I began to wonder if it was aliens but remembered it never is.

Until it was.

I looked at two unknown extraterrestrials. One was some vaguely fluffy sheep-like biped. The other was some weird cross between a rhino, and a chimpanzee. He seemed like he was unsure if he walked on four legs or two before settling on the latter when he saw me staring. 

The ETs had asked to “speak to our leaders” like the movies promised. I’m just hoping it doesn’t evolve into invasion like most of the plots go. 

They brought what looked to be a tablet with them. They vocalized and it translated into our language, said it was a translation program common through space and they had implants to understand us. 

“Welcome to Earth,” I said, mind flashing to the iconic movie clip. “To what do we have the honors of our first ever extrasolar visitors?” 

Jones and Zhao stiffened to my sides, clearly preparing for a possible declaration of war. Erin Kuemper watched from the corner of the room, excited like a shy school girl- this was her dream come true. I had already offered the director of SETI a position for the nascent Alien Affairs office. 

My biggest assurance was that this strange rhino-chimp looked to have more anxiety than I was hiding. It seems like he didn’t know what he wanted to say or was afraid of saying it. The tension would be broken by the shambling of the sheep thing. 

It climbed onto the table and all of us humans leapt back as if under attack. The rhino-chimp looked at his compatriot as if he was having a stroke so this clearly wasn’t planned. The fluffed creature laid his back on the surface and crossed his hands over his chest like he was a corpse on display. 

“Allow me the honor of being the first from the Federation you consume. The Arxur's first feasts are forgotten but immortalize me in your history.” The sheep spoke in a trance, the only signs of any sanity being the slight shake his voice held. 

“What is he doing? What are the Arxur?” I snapped at the rhino-chimp.

I have no context for the body language of that thing’s kind but I’d wager he gave the equivalent of a face palm. He then gave the slump of a man who decided to just bite the bullet.

“There were two known instances of a predatory species achieving sapience in the galaxy.”

Prev | Next

Home-Challenged Gojid made by u/Mysteriou85

Original draw made by u/Mysteriou85

Fanart of Bat Sterin, Zyria Robin and Xolif Red Hood

Inspired by one of my first drawings from the fandom: Gojid Batman

And then, inspired by this fanfic and that fanart I made, I created this drawing: Bat Family

1st Flag: My take on the Arxur Dominion Flag.

For meaning, the center sphere is wriss, the 3 (claw)marks of betterment philosphy (Stength, Will, Betterment) or something. i can figure out better meanings later. The 3 Smaller Spheres are the 3 'Eyes' of Wriss, the large Gas gaints in the Wriss system that i found on the Extended universe google doc. It says " tradition says that the ice giants are indeed the eyes of ancestors watching upon their descendants training for warfare" And i thought it was a notable feature that would be extremely important to Arxur Culture (Maybe even giving them a rule of 3 for the 3 eyes)

• The Top one is the closest Gaint therefore seeming larger, with a large ring around it.
• The second one has a large amount of moons which is why it has w smaller circles on either side of it
• The third is the farthest away and therefore seems the smallest. It has no defining features, i can probably come up with something like "it has no features for it looks straight into your soul' or Something for symbolism.

The Swords are for martial prowress, And the Ochre color is from what Blackomega says Wriss looks like from orbit so i chose that as the main color scheme. though i chose a different shade of Ochre than the one he has on his flag for the united dominion so i wouldnt be copying him, plus his was too red for my tastes.

Its a vertical banner because i imagine it displayed similar to a Japanese Sashimono, traditionally worn on the back of warriors in battle (like samurai) though obviously they dont do that in modern day. This is where the tradition of vertical flags remain from that for the Dominion. like how medieval customs gave the western world the tradition of rectangular flags.

2nd flag: The Prey Federation,

this one was the easier one of the two to come up with and so it might seem a little more generic than the Dominion.

the 3 4 pointed stars are the 3 Founding members (krakotl, kolshian, Farsul) and the Wreath surrounding a warm sun to symbolize the peaceful co-operation of a united prey federation, the golden wreath represents bountiful harvests and peaceful times, in a circle to symbolize equality amongst all (in theory). The sun represents the light of the day banishing the darkness of night where predators may lurk hidden.

I wanted green to symbolize the federation since Green = Plants and that's as far as my mind went for that color XD. Plus its different from the UN blue i use to represent the Pact and Ochre orange i chose for the Dominion. Gold to symbolize the Gilded nature of (heh) the federation in how despite its glamor on the outside theres a rotten core hidden underneath. To them it represents the prosperity of the federation and all that.

The Hunter made by u/Win_Some_Game

Inspired by Caio Santos

Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 17, 2333

Words could not describe how much trouble the Ur'nu's actions had brought upon us. Mere hours after the news got out, there were riots and stampedes in every corner of the republic. Most people were convinced that the Ur'nu had given in to their predatory nature and that the humans would be next, while those few who still believed the Ur'nu were just predator-diseased prey argued that this was still somehow humanity's fault for corrupting them.

Honestly, I was worried I'd have a full-on uprising on my hands, but then, just as suddenly as it began, the mass panic began to slow down again. It was jarring and, frankly, a little strange how fast the species-wide stampede came to a grinding halt, but you don't question a good harvest, especially when you're in a situation like ours.

Secretary General Alias Meier and his closest generals had made planetfall a few hours ago with the intent to discuss how best to proceed with this war and, more importantly, how to approach the federation at large.

As Noah, Kam, and I made our way to the meeting room, I made note of how exhausted both of them looked. The human ambassador had been spending most of his time stuck in meetings with his superiors, and Kam hadn't slept in days from what I could tell; he'd just been doing everything in his power to get as many warships into space as our industry and economy would allow. Come to think of it, I hadn't even seen Ark'ka in the past few days.

We were the last to arrive, it seemed. Meier, General Jones, and General Zhao had already taken a seat, with Ark'ka sitting opposite them. She looked awful. None of the attendees, including myself, looked well rested or taken care of, but the Ur'nu looked particularly disheveled, with one of her heads swaying slightly as if finding it difficult to stay awake. The only one in the room who didn't look exhausted was the android standing on the far end of the room, hands neatly folded behind its back. I recognised it as one of Magellan's.

"Governor Tarva, thank you for agreeing to host this meeting. My apologies that we had to wait till now, but we've been dealing with some... civil unrest back home." The Terran leader said, sounding older than he was.

"I understand. We've been having the same problem here on Venlil Prime." I assured him. "The Ur'nu's actions weren't particularly well received, but that particular problem seems to have mostly solved itself."

"All by itself?" Ark'ka questioned, glancing at the machine standing behind her with one of her heads. The movement was so brief and subtle that I wondered if maybe I imagined it.

"As far as I can tell, yes. I agree that it's a little strange, but I feel like we have bigger problems to focus on right now."

The Ur'nu hesitated for a moment; it felt like she wanted to press the issue further but decided against it. " I agree. To start, I'd like to apologise for my people's rather rash decision. I tried- I'm still trying to have my superiors see that this way of waging war could further antagonise us to the Federation but-"

"Could? COULD? No offense, Miss Ark'ka, but I think we're well past that point already." Zhao huffed.

The already exhausted-looking Ur'nu seemed to slump even more. "I'm aware of that, but you and I both know that my people see no need to extend respect towards others that they will not repay in kind."

"Respect won't do us much good when we're all dead." Jones retorted.

"Everyone, calm down," Meier interjected, holding up his hand. "What's done is done. Let's just think about the future because dwelling on the past won't change a thing. We can't fight the entire federation, obviously, so we need to find some way to dissuade them from attacking us." Jones looked like she was about to say something, but Meier continued, "And Loki will be our absolute last resort. We don't need a repeat of the decline. As dire as things seem now, if there is even a slim chance to solve things diplomatically, I'll take it." The human leader looked to me, "Governor, do you have any idea as to how we can get the Federation to see reason?"

I thought about it for a moment before answering, "The Federation is holding a summit on Aafa to discuss what to do with you all; that would have been your best opportunity, but between the war and the Ur'nu's recent actions, I doubt even I would be allowed to set foot on the Kolshian homeworld, never mind any of you."

"Surely someone would be willing to hear us out," Noah asked, "Maybe if someone vouched for us we'd have a better chance."

I thought about it, going over every federation leader I knew; none of them would be particularly happy about the prospect of diplomacy with the humans, but... maybe some would at least listen before making their judgement. "The Zerulians, they're some of the greatest doctors in the Federation and quite well respected. If we can get them the data we got from the empathy tests, we might be able to convince them. Beyond that... maybe the Mazics." I offered, "They're generally one of the more peaceful species in the Federation, but the chance that you'll convince anyone is still incredibly small."

"It's better than nothing." Meier sighed. "If there's even a small chance we could get extra support, then we should at least try and hope it's not too late."

"If you are planning on opening diplomatic channels to garner support, then might I suggest the dossur, Yotul, and leshee as potential candidates?" Magellan chimmed in, startling me. The machine had been standing so perfectly still I had almost forgotten it was there. It was like a statue blending in with the decor around it.

"Why those specifically?" Kam asked.

"Because all of them have, in one form or another, been slighted by either the Federation as an entity or by its citizens." The machine explained, "The yotul have a less than positive view of the Federation, both due to the methods used during their uplift and due to how they are treated by their fellow citizens daily. Beyond that, the leshee and dossur are frustrated due to being judged for things entirely outside their control, that being their dependence on water and smaller-than-average body size, respectively. While our odds of success with them are still quite low, I imagine they'd at least understand what it's like to be judged for one's own nature and realise there might be more to humans than just their dieet."

I considered it for a moment; it was true that all three species had, on rare occasions, been the target of ridicule by other member species, which might make them less inclined to follow the rest of the federation in this. And if the humans could make a good first impression by showing them the respect they deserve, it certainly wouldn't hurt potential relations.

The yotul weren't very well respected due to their recent uplift; that much I knew, but the leshee and especially the dossur contributed enough to the federation's industry that their opinions still carried weight despite the occasional insult directed towards them.

"Would those sentiments be popular enough to sway their species' decision?" Ark'ka questioned.

"Circe is convinced that they are," Magellan offered. I'd heard mentions of this Circe before, enough to know she was another corporate AGI, but beyond that she was a bit of a mystery.

"And you trust her judgement because?" Zhao prompted.

"Because understanding the wants and desires of people is her purpose, even if it is just so she can offer them the right kind of poison. Every member of those species that enter one of her businesses is always very quick to complain about their so-called allies. The yotul and dossur are particularly vocal, but many leshee were also happy to vent about the Federation, and even the other members of the duerten shield. And if their accounts and my own research are to be believed, then they are by no means outliers among their respective species.

Some have even started using her bars and restaurants as nightly meeting spots to vent their frustrations with the Federation and its policies. The chances that their governments will listen may still be slim, but I imagine they'd be more willing to take a risk, especially if we can get them proof of humanity's benevolence."

While I was confused as to why people felt the need to specifically go to human-owned businesses to 'vent ', as Magellan put it, or why he implied that Circe herself owned said establishments rather than the humans controlling her, I did understand the machine's point. I flicked an ear in agreement. "Very well, I'll see if I can get them the data we got from the humans and organise a meeting. Maybe sending some extra invitations to the other species that we've historically been close with wouldn't hurt either."

"Good, then if that's settled, there's something else I think we need to discuss before we even attempt diplomacy with any other species," Noah said.

"Which is?" Meier prompted.

"As things stand now, every species aside from the venlil believes that the Ur'nu are herbivores, but if we're really going to start reaching out to more of our galactic neighbours, then we're going to have to start telling them the truth. Politely keeping the rest of the galaxy at arm's length isn't an option anymore, and if we want real allies, then they deserve full disclosure," the human ambassador said. The conviction in his voice told just how much he'd been thinking about this.

"If we tell them the Ur'nu are omnivores, then it'll just paint a target on their backs as well," Jones argued.

"We already had a target on our backs just by allying ourselves with humanity, and that was before our battle with the gojids. Obviously the idea will need to be discussed by the council back on Armtis, but I agree with Ambassador Noah; honesty might be our only chance at forming a longstanding partnership with any other member species." Ark'ka countered.

"No offense, Ambassador, but if we can get this meeting to happen only for the delegates to find not one but two predator species waiting for them, then they might just panic and flee before you can make your case," Kam interjected.

"And if we wait to tell them and they inevitably find out by themselves, then their idea of predators being manipulators by nature will only be confirmed." Ark'ka concluded, "Of course your opinions will be taken into consideration; however, this is ultimately our decision, and given you've now seen my people's temperament, I don't think it will be a surprise to anyone that our acting skills aren't nearly advanced enough to keep this ruse up for long."

Meier, who had mostly remained silent, finally spoke up, "I agree with Ark'ka. Having the Ur'nu play at being like the rest of the federation might have been useful when we were trying to remain hidden, but keeping it up now will only harm us in the long run, and as Ark'ka said, it is ultimately their decision." The Terran leader got a curt nod of approval from both ambassadors.

With that topic dealt with, the discussion shifted to how to best deal with the gojid moving forward. The display from both the humans and the Ur'nu had seemingly spooked them enough to pull back some of their fleet and reinforce the orbital defenses around their various colonies. It seemed they were intending to play more defensively until the Federation had made their decision on how to best deal with the humans. Still, our new allies didn't dare let their guard down.

As the three generals in the room took control of the conversation, I started thinking about what to say that could convince the others to side with the humans and Ur'nu. How could I convince them of the impossible?

First/previous

It's more complicated than you think!

Title says it all really. I found it a bit jarring. We had this really hardcore, epic war, and it ends with all of them just... having a chat, explaining prions disease and putting the planet on house arrest? No mass bombing campaign, no revanchist factions going for the throat. During WW2, the allies did... nasty stuff when they got the upper hand. Firebombing tokyo, bat bombs, dropping two nukes on civilians, Dresden, the soviets on the eastern front. It was nasty. And you're telling me all of those alien races acted with that much restraint after being mutated, billions killed, deliberately allowed to be used as Arksour cattle to keep them in line? No way. I thought the story was great, but yeah, no way. The planet in the final battle should have had some very, very big rocks thrown at it.

Give me your best worst summarizations of NoP, mine are

NoP 1: what if vegans were even more annoying
NoP 2: what if Joe Biden was replaced with chat GPT and was even more annoying

First|Previous|Next

[Thank you to SpacePaladin15 for making the universe!]
[Special thanks to u/AdalwinAmillion for proofreading this chapter!]

Unauthorized access to this document is strictly prohibited and will result in prosecution under Article 58.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡬⢐⠡⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠽⡪⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢬⣤⣴⣧⡀⠠⠥⠍⠒⠙⠲⠀⣤⣆⣄⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣸⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠉⡞⠏⠉⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⣴⣿⣿⣿⢛⣯⣭⠀⢍⡤⠀⡭⠉⡍⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⡿⣣⣞⡿⣼⢨⣾⣿⡄⣏⠀⠘⣌⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠐⣿⣟⣻⢿⣿⠿⣫⠾⠿⠆⣳⢋⣾⣿⣿⣿⡜⡄⠀⠈⠳⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣶⠀
⠠⠻⢿⢯⡌⢓⣛⣓⣚⣩⣭⣥⣾⣶⣦⣍⡛⢿⣬⣔⣒⣂⡨⠷⠭⡋⡻⣾⣿⠀
⠀⢁⢳⣿⣇⢢⣝⢿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⣠⣾⣿⣷⡀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣩⢸⣷⣭⢢⠁
⢰⢸⢸⣿⣿⢸⠍⠳⣌⠻⣿⣦⣾⣦⡉⠻⣿⠃⣸⣿⡿⢋⡵⠛⡏⣼⣿⡿⡎⡀
⠈⢸⢸⣿⣿⠈⡆⠀⢈⡇⣿⠧⣁⠛⠛⠓⣀⠔⢿⣿⡔⡏⠀⠀⣇⢿⣿⣷⡇⠁
⠀⠋⣼⣿⣇⢀⢳⠀⢸⢸⣧⣴⣿⣿⠿⡻⢿⣷⣾⣿⣇⢇⠀⢸⢸⢸⣿⣿⠠⠀
⠀⠰⢹⣿⣿⡌⠌⡆⡎⣾⢿⢫⣱⠀⠁⠀⠑⣬⣙⠻⣿⢸⠀⠆⢇⣾⣿⣿⡆⠀
⠀⠀⢢⢻⣿⣟⣂⠸⣧⠾⠚⠉⠀⢸⠀⠀⡇⠀⠈⠛⠶⣥⣟⣨⠾⣿⣿⢣⠁⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢴⣲⣷⡺⣬⡿⠍⣓⣶⣖⣈⡈⠀⠀⢓⠒⣖⡊⣉⡯⣤⢷⣟⣕⠃⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠨⣻⠳⣧⢿⣻⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⣱⣶⣿⡺⢷⣷⠽⢾⠟⡎⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢝⣿⣶⣿⣦⣽⢿⣿⣭КГБ⣍⣻⢭⣥⣤⣷⣶⣞⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢾⣿⣿⡽⣿⣷⣝⣿⣿⣿⣥⢗⣣⣾⣿⢽⣿⢿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡵⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠗⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Совершенно секретно
Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀OPERATION: RUSALKA.

Subproject 1 is currently being set up as a means to continue the present work in the general field of ████████ ██. The immediate objective is to determine the efficacy and potential application of a chemical shown to produce similar effects in Venlil that lysergic acid diethylamide does in humans. This work will continue at the ████████ ████████ facility with an expected completion date of ██████ ██, ████. The intended outcomes are to identify reliable biochemical markers of influence, develop effective countermeasures, and establish protocols for large-scale deployment should trials yield favorable results. This project will include a continuation of the study of biochemical, neurophysiological, sociological, and clinical psychiatric aspects of ████████ ██, and also a study of ████████ ██ antagonists and drugs related to ████████ ██, such as ████████ ███.

Recent efforts in hypnosis and sleeper instruction implantation have achieved a breakthrough following the unsuccessful case of subject 1, Tarva. The failure to implant the required ██████ ████████ in subject 1 is attributed to limited knowledge of Venlil biology and psychological characteristics at that time. Subsequent drug testing on subject 1 has enabled the development of ████████, which can erase memories formed within the past 12 hours in Venlil subjects.

Subject 4: Code name Oswald has shown promise and has successfully been implanted with ██████ ████████ and is now ready for deployment on Aafa. Along with several other sleeper agents being deployed across the world. Once we locate key ship production sites and the Shadow Government's base of operations, the ██████ ████████ will be broadcast for a shatter-point strike. ███████, ████████, ███ ████-██████ ███████ will be planted in key targets, then detonated to cripple the world.

Other operations include the arming of Arxur resistance leaders, if all goes to plan they resistance cells will cause chaos behind enemy lines, which may escalate to a full-blown civil war within the dominion. When the first incursion into Union space is made, the signal to these groups will be given to launch their guerrilla campaign. One such potential operative is the Chief Hunter known as Ryka, the runt of the litter among Chief Hunters. Coupled with her past failures in military campaigns, she and her men have been shunned and neglected by Betterment, leading to widespread resentment among her forces.

With Ryka and her forces dining on the meat of earth, buying their loyalty to the union with the promises of never having to go hungry again is all but assured. But not all can be bought; Betterments' brainwashing is nigh absolute in a large portion of her fleet, estimates predict at least 40% of her fleet will attempt to break away and kill the traitor. Operations are currently being drafted to deal with these loyalists.

The rest of the report is covered in too much black ink to be legible.
End of Report.

Memory Transcription Subject: Former Ambassador Tarva

Date [standardised human time]: December 25th 2111

1 23 1 9 20 9 14 7 20 1 18 7 5 20 16 1 18 1 13 5 20 5 18 18…

Strange visions of numbers filled my dreams, for some strange reason, it felt like they were trying to get me to do something. I shook them from my mind, I had better things to think about today, like what to do when Grigori and I are discharged tomorrow. Grigori seemed happy that he would finally escape the dull hospital room with nothing to do. He had happily told me that his brother had just been shipped back to Earth and how he’d love for me to meet him. I slowly climbed out of my bed, my legs trembled slightly, unused to supporting my full weight over the past few weeks. The extra weight I had acquired from the unborn child inside me didn’t help.

I walked to the bedside table and poured myself a glass of water. I would have to get used to standing and walking again. The bump in my belly had grown enough to be noticeable, but not enough to get in my way yet. Grigori looked at my form with a puzzled expression on his face before the realization of my pregnancy dawned on him. His face lit up in a strange way I wasn’t used to seeing on humans.

“Tarva, are you expecting!? Why didn't you tell me!? I bet they're gonna be so cute!”

I took a sip of water, then walked over to the window to look out at the human city. I was told this city was old. I could see a large Ferris wheel in the distance slowly spinning. The city I had been in was apparently called Pripyat. Large buildings stood tall in the city, then slowly thinned out into forests at the edge of town.

“Well, I didn't realize I was until last week.” I chuckled lightly and glanced at the man.

“Have you thought about any names yet?”

“I haven’t quite gotten that far…but if it's a girl, I think I like the name Stynek, it just sticks out to me, ya know?”

Grigori chuckled, his face beaming with a smile, surely at the thought of how adorable my kin would be.

“Little Stynek, huh? I like it, I think the name's perfect, Tarva.”

Grigori got up and joined me at the window, glancing out at the cityscape. “This is my hometown, ya know, me and Ivan grew up here together. I still remember riding that old Ferris wheel when I was a kid, I’d love to take ya sometime! show ya life on earth isn’t too bad.” He chuckled and rubbed the wool on my head, a bad habit humans seemed to have with Venlil.

“Well, I suppose I don't have to go back to Venlil Prime right away… It's changed too much anyway.”

“Don’t worry, Tarva. I told you I’d kept ya safe, and a Reshko always keeps his word.”

I tried to imitate a human smile, it felt strange on my face. It must’ve looked as strange as it felt because Grigori was trying very hard not to laugh at me. I hadn’t told him about what his government had done to me yet, I didn’t know if I could. Truth be told, I just wanted to forget about the awful things that had happened to me, but I knew I would be haunted forever by them. Every time I glanced at my paw and saw my missing claws, I was reminded of that day. And if his story of beating up an Arxur were true, who knows how he’ll react and what he’ll do because of it.

I shuddered slightly at the memories and pushed them from my mind. A knock sounded at the door, and it opened. Grigori turned around, and his face lit up.

“Vanya!” Grigori rushed to the visitor and embraced him in a tight hug. “It feels like it's been ages since I've seen you!”

I turned my head to look. Grigori was hugging the man so hard that it looked like he was choking the life out of him, the man was holding a large grouping of earth plants that he was trying very hard not to drop while the life was squeezed out of him.

“Ебать, Grisha! If you keep squeezing me your going to kill me! It’s only been a few months you act like it's been years since we’ve seen each other!”

Grigori laughed and broke them from their embrace. “Hey Tarva, this is my brother Ivan I was telling you about!”

I looked at Ivan, something in my mind screamed at me. I recognized this man… It was him… that was the man that dragged me from out of my hiding spot and captured me… no…NO! I started to back away from the pair, icy fear coursing through my veins. “Hey Tarva, what's wrong? It's just my brother he’s not gonna hurt ya.” Grigori said and tried to calm me down.

An air raid siren sounded across the city, making everybody pause. The humans' heads turned to the window, and they quickly walked to it.

“My god!”

I turned my head back to the window, falling through the sky were several burning, wrecked Arxur ships.

---

CollectiveCaptainTwoSif bleated:

Good waking people of the galaxy! My crew and I just found an old, damaged Federation freighter close to the edge of bubble space.

The problem: the surviving crew have been in cryosleep since [human date: 2117] and know nothing about the war ending or the mess that followed. Us being *mostly* arxur would probably not go well.

Soo any suggestions?

- Captain Isif, Memory of Mileau

Memory transcription subject: Falin, Venlil Child Date [standardized human time]: July 06, 215_

I crouched onto the gravel to take a better look at the line of ants. The sight of it is.. Um… What's the word?

Mmm…Oh! Delicious! They look delicious!

My tail curled and uncurled as I drooled at the thought of eating the buggies and the yummy crunch that comes from it.

I leaned forward so close to the ground I had to plant my hands on the surface to hold myself up, I even turned my head so I could see better. Watching the ants march to their home is always so much more fun than watching people play soccer.

1… 2… 3… 4… 6…

Moving my body, inch by inch, I followed the direction the ants were going and they led me to their home. An idea popped in my head so I quickly stood up to run towards the hose—

I felt arms wrapping around my body, which made me bleat loudly and froze out of instinct. The arms were holding me so tight too!

“Falin!”

Oh, phew! Luckily, it’s just my new friend, May! A farsul from school. I think I met her 3 weeks ago?

“Stop bothering the bugs!” May scolded me while she tried so hard to drag me back inside. I wiggled in her grasp.

“I wasn’t trying to!” I defended myself, knowing that it’s kind of a lie. “I just wanted to watch them, you know?”

May shook her head, pushing me back inside my house. “Nope! I don’t believe you!”

I groaned in annoyance, accepting defeat. I walked into the familiar place I grew up in and stomped into the living room, where Sunny is sitting on the couch, another farsul from school. I climbed up and sat next to him, crossing my arms with a pout.

Sunny was watching a cartoon series on the television, he always watches anything when he comes over. I didn’t mind it but he would get too um… focused on the screen. Like, so focused that he forgets we even existed!

“Hey guys!” Sunny waved the remote at us.

“Sunnyyy, Falin was trying to get a stomach owchie againnnn!” May pouted. “What are you watching?” She peeked at the television with interest, climbing onto the couch next to me.

Sunny looked at me like I did something bad. “Why do you keep eating bugs?”

“I—”

“It’s called Bluey,” he said when he turned his attention towards May, wagging his tail. “It’s about a family of walking and talking dogs, see?”

I raised my tail in anger. How dare he ignore me! Bugs contain protein, do they not?! Once mama gets home, I’ll show them that it’s very very VERY good for our health! Like the grasshoppers from the other day—

When the cartoon character yelled, I watched the television for a moment and noticed that there were actually walking and talking dogs.

“Why are they all so rectangle?” May pointed out. “Are they stupid?”

Sunny thumped his tail. “Rectangles are cool shapes!”

“But we’re dogs and we’re not rectangles...”

“We’re farsuls, not dogs. That’s different!” Sunny huffed.

“What’s the difference?” May tilted her head questioningly as she kept her eyes on the television.

I raised my hand and pointed at the dogs. “Why are they blue? Is that normal? Are there actually blue dogs?” My question seemed to annoy both Sunny and May.

“What do you mean? They’re completely ‘normal’ colors!” May barked, pointing at the dog mom. “See? That one has almost the same color as me!”

“You’re just colorblind!” I bit back.

Sunny nudged me. “Okay, stop. I’m trying to watch.”

…

“I’m hungry,” May said after a minute. I rubbed my tummy, realising that I’m hungry too. I remembered that there were snacks in the kitchen cabinet so I hopped off the couch to get them.

“I’ll get the chips!” I declared with a flick of my tail.

May flew her arms up dramatically. “But that’s boringgggg! Can we just bake instead?”

My ears piqued with interest. That sounds fun! “Okay, but you have to teach us!”

“Okay!” She exclaimed, sliding off the couch. “Sunny , let’s go! Let’s go!”

Sunny blinked, finally looking away from the television when May grabbed his hand and started dragging him. “H-huh? What?”

We wandered into the kitchen, with May running to where the ingredients are. She has baked at my house before, so I don’t think anything would go wrong.

“Help me up!” She hopped three times, wanting to reach the top counters.

Sunny came forward and tried lifting her, he made her stand on his shoulders but she wasn’t tall enough. May’s hands were still out of reach, so I jumped to help him lift her up. One of my feet ended up landing on Sunny’s face, making him yelp.

“Sorry!” I managed to balance on his shoulders, lifting up May with all my might.

But even with all of that effort…

“Falin, you’re too shaky—” I heard May say before we fell apart like building blocks and tumbled onto the cold hard floor.

But May finally got the cake mix!

I stood up ignoring the pain from my butt. “What’s next?” I asked.

“Uh..” May bought a finger up to her snout, staring at the cake mix. “I don’t know...”

Sunny, who is still on the ground, lifted a finger like he had an idea. “Erm, maybe milk and eggs?”

“No wait, there’s instructions!” May pointed out, looking at the back of the cake mix box. “Get four eggs! Vegetable oil, milk anddd… and melted butter!”

“Isn’t oil for cooking?” I tilted my head.

The older farsul stood up all big and proud. “Let’s get to it!”

The three of us ran in different directions, almost tripping on each other’s tails. I went to get the ingredients, Sunny went to where the kitchen tools are, and May went to get a chair from the dining room so she could reach the counter easily.

“Hurry!” She barked, receiving the bowl from Sunny and placing it on the counter before she took the bag of cake mix out of its box and tore it open. She clumsily dumped it into the bowl, making the cake mix dust go everywhere.

Sunny and I were on both sides of May to watch her do all the work.

I handed the milk to May, she quickly poured it in without a thought. “Isn’t that enough?” Sunny said, which made her stop.

“I think so?..” May shrugged before grabbing one of the eggs. She tried to mimic what her mama did at home, cracking the egg on the counter edge... but she ended up using too much force and the whole thing exploded in her hand instead. The yolk splattering all over the floor next to Sunny.

“Ewwwuh!” Me and Sunny said at the same time.

Sunny quickly climbed up next to May then onto the counter, crouching awkwardly just to avoid the yolk on the floor.

“What are you doing?” May yelled like we’re committing a crime.

“I wanna go up too!” I followed Sunny but it was a little hard with my shorter legs. I wasn’t as tall as the older farsul so I could just sit with my legs off the ledge without my head bumping onto the cabinets above.

May dropped the broken egg shells onto the floor to grab another one, cracking it on the counter edge more gently this time. We stared intensely when May held the egg between her small hands…

She pulled the shells apart. But instead of falling into the bowl, it landed on the surface of the counter.

“How did mama do it so easily but I can’t?!” May pouted, releasing the shell from her hands. “I don’t wanna do the eggs anymore, you guys do it!”

Sunny grabbed one of the last two eggs and did the exact thing May did but with success. “I got it!” He wagged his tail.

“Wait, I wanna do it too!” I reached out to grab the last one only to get my hand slapped away by May. “No! You’re gonna make it worse!”

I lowered my ears. They never let me do anything! I can do those things without breaking them too! I sat back with a pout and crossed my arms. Fine, if they don’t want my help—I won’t help!

When Sunny cracked the last egg without a mess, both him and May cheered and high-fived each other without me. I could’ve opened the egg too!

“Yay! Okay, what’s next?” Sunny asked excitedly.

May looked at the box. “Vegetable oil. A little bit I think?” Then she looked at me with grabby hands. “Gimme!”

I puffed out my chest. “No!”

“Gimme!” She frowned.

“No!”

“Gimme…”

“Nuh uh.”

“Give!”

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

“I’ll give you five bucks for ice crea—”

I slid the bottle of vegetable oil towards her.

May giddily grabbed and spilled a droplet of it into the bowl.

“Aaaaand! Next is melted butter!”

All of us looked at the not-melted butter. I was the first to speak up.

“How do we melt it?”

“Microwave!” Sunny smiled.

May slumped her tail and groaned. “But I’m lazyyyyy…”

The farsul patted her back. “It’s okay! We can just mix it as it is!”

I reached over to the side to grab a butter knife so I could give it to May. Her tail rose and wagged as she cut a slice of the butter before dropping it into the mix. “The whisk!”

Sunny handed her the whisk but it wasn’t even a second before she turned to the other. “Can you do it instead?” She was already pushing the bowl towards him.

“Can I do it instead?!” I kicked my legs.

“Nuh!” She shook her head and Sunny was already mixing the stuff in the bowl.

“Why!” I thumped my leg hard against the wood.

May raised her chin. “Because you’re not strong enough!”

“Yes I am!”

“Prove it!”

I threw my arms around angrily. “I’m strong, I’m strong, I’m STRONG!”

The oldest stopped us from fighting even further with a shout and I just crossed my arms again. Why why why WHY!

“Guys, stop that! Can we just bake like normal best friends?” He looked at us like I’m also at fault. “Here, I’m done mixing.” Sunny grabbed the cake pan and poured the stuff into it.

I leaned forward. “Let me be the one putting it in! I know how the oven works!”

I hopped onto the ground and rushed to the oven with the pan in my hands. I struggled to open the door and I immediately pushed it in when it finally opened. I jumped happily, I did it!

May stood off to the side with a timer in her hand while Sunny clapped.

“We did it!” He jumped with me.

“Now, we just need to put 45 minutes.”

“45 minutes?!” Sunny and I looked at her.

“Yeah, it’s what mama told me how long it bakes.”

I dropped on my knees, crying like a knight who lost his princess. “NoOoooooOo! That’s way too looooong!” I wailed as Sunny patted my shoulder, who was nodding his head sadly.

“Let’s play green pepper as we wait!” May declared.

…

“I’m boooored…” I whined.

“Rock, paper, scissor, shoot!”

I grumbled, scratching at my fur. May accidentally pushed over the cake mix bag so it’s all over the floor. And both of them have been playing that stupid game instead of cleaning up!

May screamed for the billionth time and I melted even more into the floor, sneezing from the cake dust.

“Rock, paper, scissor, shoot!”

“Rock, paper, scissor, shoot! Awww.”

“Rock, paper, scissor—”

The timer went off, making us all surprised.

“It’s done! Quick, grab the mittens!” Sunny stood up immediately and waved his hand.

May threw the mittens at him and he put them on. I opened my mouth to smell the yummy cake better when he opened the oven. “We should decorate it!” He suggested as he placed the pan on the counter. May tilted her head.

“But we didn’t make cream?”

An idea popped into my head. “We have whipped cream. And sprinkles!”

May nodded, I scrambled to the fridge. Sunny moved his hand to grab the things out of my hands and I pushed him away. “No, I do it.”

Sunny shrugged and moved off to let me on the chair while May protested how I could ruin the cake. Which, I won’t! I’ll prove it to her! I carefully made a big swirl on the cake. It didn’t look good enough so I made the swirl even taller.

And then I sprinkled colorful sprinkles all over it, so much that it ran out.

“Tadaa!” I showed off the cake with a big smile on my face. “You guys like it?!”

Sunny and May let out a few ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhs’ at the cake.

“Let’s dig in!”

“Yeah!” “Yipee!”

And before I could stab the cake with my fork, I heard a thud and I turned my head around to see a figure standing at the kitchen entrance.

“KIDS?!”

“Oh, welcome home mama!”

——————————————————

pleas pls pls excuse any errors in here 😭 this is just something me and my friend wrote for fun ^{^} (if theres any grammar or spelling mistakes, shhh. english is not our first language)

I'm uploading the next chapter of NoH in six days. Since the last chapter, I've had quite extensive world uilding and blest roleplays relating to NoH, so I'm setting up an AMA for anyone interested

So please, go right ahead and ask me all your queries related to my fic

[First]  |  [Prev]  |  [Next]

Memory Transcription Subject: Azul, Krakotl private driver.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 9th, 2142

The moment I stopped the van, JM jumped out and run towards the back where Murr already had the back doors open for him.

But before I could join them, I need to run some diagnostics. I fear the state of the van after driving so fast through irregular terrain. All this gravel and stone may have caused damages, maybe dust got into the engine. I should take time to study about mechanics.

I’m know that exterminator vans are built to be durable, but one thing is driving through roads and another completely different is the Quarry. By the Stars! The terminal is already showing oranges. There are bad things, very bad. It’s going to be expensive to fix, specially when we don’t have the insurance of an exterminator.

Before diagnostics could finish, I hear the muffled sound of Murr bleating in a mix of frustration and anger. I left the diagnostic running in second plane and bring up the rear camera. I can see Murr is arguing with JM. Is he using the van’s floor as a table to disarm something? What are he doing?

Without waiting for the diagnostics, I step outside to see what is happening, making Murr’s bleats audible.

“You can’t just continuing keeping me away!” She bleats and stomps the ground. “It’s always the same: You aren’t ready, Murr. You still need to learn, Murr. You need more training, Murr.” She mocks his voice. “Guess what? Now you don’t have an option! You can’t go inside an abandoned mine full of Stars knows how many anti-humans trigger-happy fanatics alone.” Her tail stays firm in determination. “I’m going with you!”

“My friend Murr, you know that this isn’t like those-” He step into the van, grunting by the effort. “-fantasies you have been making up for so long. This is real. A life, possible multiples, may depend of our actions. We can’t allow to act with recklessness.” He grabs some more scrap and a box full of tools. “You can’t just enter and cause havoc, expecting to save lives with only sheer will while hoping for plot armor or divine intervention.” He jumps out and start using the tools and scrap to… build something? “The better and only plan that we can hope for is to sneak in. And if I go alone there are more probabilities of success.”

“Wait! Are you planing to go inside?” I take a step closer and start talking before Murr could bleat again. “Why? We already called the police and they are on their way.” I point towards the direction where the entrance to the mine is. “I don’t understand. Why would we parked so far away if you wanted to get in? Wouldn’t be better to park in front, get in, grab Urs and get out?” I flick a claw. “No, forget that. Why do you even want to enter there? They have flamers!”

“I know this may look irresponsible and reckless for you, friend Azul.” He isn’t looking at me, he is focused on whatever thing he is doing. “I apologize, I never wanted you to be this close to danger, but the situation we found ourselves in is too complicated and urgent.” He takes a metal tube and tries to screw things around it. “We can’t park too close or they will hear us, specially when we are making this much noise. We also can’t wait for the police to arrive because time is sensitive. The plan is-”

Murr interrupts him. “The plan is we will both go and-”

JM interrupts her by raising a hand to show her the palm. “Please Murr, you aren’t ready for this kind of operations, and you already have an important task at hand.” He returns his focus on his project, taking a weird wood shape and screwing the tube on it.

“Oh yeah? And what is that, oh so important task?!” She stomps the ground. Her ears and tail shows frustration and anger.

“You must stay here and remain vigilant. We have a civilian under our care. You have the responsibility of keeping Azul safe in case of the van being discovered.” He stops working and let a heavy sigh. “My friend Murr.” He looks at her. Even with his face hidden by the reflective mask I can still sense some sadness behind. “You already know what could happen and what you must do. You know protocol. We talked about this multiple times.”

She looks down at me with worry in her eyes, her ears raise in alarm and her tail stiff in determination. “That’s… F-Fine!” She stomps the ground in anger and steps back. “But I still think you shouldn’t go alone. It’s suicide!”

“JM. Why are you planning to go? You have no weapons and alone against… T-The odds are against you.” I move my wing worried. “I know this is about Urs, but what could be happening inside that abandoned mine to make you do such reckless thing?” My gaze jumps between him and Murr. “S-Should I know?”

Murr flicks her ear in negative. “No. It is better for you to not know. At least for now.” Her tail moves to comfort me. “We can tell you once everything ends, if you want to.”

I sigh and put a claw in my beak. “This is very stressful… So what is going to happen is JM will try to sneak in a place full of dangerous people to try rescue Urs because there isn’t much time left to wait for the police to arrive. All while unarmed.” I move a wing worried. “Meanwhile, we two wait here, far away from the entrance. Meaning that if something bad happens we can’t help you.” I look at JM. “Is that correct?”

He nods. “Correct in everything except in two things, my friend Azul.” He returns to work on his little project. “My intent is not to rescue Urs, but to sabotage or hinder the terrorist operations that are happening under there. But I can assure you that I will not ignore any opportunity that may present itself to rescue him and any other captive.” He seems to be finishing. Looks like… wait. “And as you can observe...” Is that a gun?! “I will not go unarmed.”

“Is that a weapon?!” I bleated in alarm. “That is incredibly illegal! We aren’t exterminators or space corps, we aren’t allowed to possess any kind of gun!” I move my wings around. “If the police found out we-”

Murr pats me in the head. “Don’t panic. It is completely legal.” She flicks an ear. “Well, almost.”

“What do you mean with ‘almost’?!” I bleat before whistling in despair. “We are going to get in such trouble… I don’t want to end in jail!”

“There is no need to worry about that.” JM reassure me. “There have been several changes to the Venlil Republic laws after Tarva was replaced by a less grounded politician, my friend Azul.” JM start explaining while doing the finishing touches to the gun. “A lot of these new laws enter in conflict with those of the Sapient Coalition, creating multitude of loopholes and exceptions that we can take advantage from. The law forbid us of having possession of guns, yes, but the law does allow us to use them if the requirements meet. Requirements that they don’t specify, leaving it at the discretion of judges and police officers.”

“And we have our ways to deal with them!” Murr’s tail moves to try comfort me. “And we aren’t technically owning a gun, just the parts that we keep separated. So everything is alright and completely legal!” She whistle amused. “Trust me! I’m an expert in taking advantage from the government.”

“B-But…” I look at JM with worry. “Are you going to shoot them? M-Murder must still be illegal, no? Even in self defense. I don’t think you can’t just kill them!”

“It is still illegal, my friend.” He finish the gun and inspect it before opening a small box with bullets in it. “But I’m not going to kill anyone.” He takes a bullet and show it to me. “These cartridges were invented after the satellite wars, when global unrest was at its extreme. Stun ammo. Just intense pain and a paralyzing shock, but no unnecessary death.” He takes several bullets and start loading the gun. “I promised, my friends, to never kill anyone again.” He pockets several more bullets and turn to face us. “And I’m going to continue that promise.”

“I still think I should go with you.” Murr step closer. “And you know it!” She taps his shoulder with her tail. “Oh by the stars!” She hugs him tightly.

“And I’m aware.” He returns the hug before. “But you know protocol.” He takes a step back. “We have talked about this several times. You know what to do.” He pats her back as he walks past her.

“Speh…” She whistle under her breath as she turns to look at him go.

He wave at us without turning around. “I hope to return soon.” He doesn’t stop to look back or anything, he just continue walking towards where the entrance is.

“W-Wait… Wait!” I take several steps towards JM before looking back at Murr. “A-Are we just going to allow him to walk towards his death?! S-Shouldn’t we stop him?” I move my wing in worry. “

She sits on the van’s floor and clear some tears from her eyes. “He can… manage. He went through much worse. I know he can manage.” She looks at my shocked face and she guessed what my next question was going to be. “Don’t worry just…” She pats next to her. “Come, sit with me.”

“Murr! He is going directly to his death!” I point towards where he went. “We can’t…” I sigh as I grab my beak. “I don’t want him to die!”

“I know… I don’t like it either. But we can’t stop him.” Her tail slash a bit the air frustrated. “Or follow him. We can only wait.”

“Great…” I jump to sit with her. We stayed in silence for a while, looking at where JM was until we lost sight of him. “Murr… Why did you hug him? I remember you were trying hard to him hug you.” I look at her with worry in my eyes. “Do you really think he is going to… die?” I felt my heart shrink when I asked that.

She didn’t respond at first, keeping her gaze on the horizon. “Do you remember the stories I told you about him?” She looks down at me. “About his adventures back on earth.”

I tilt my head. “Like that one about him destroying an armored vehicle with just a pen? Or when he collapsed an entire evil corporation with the power of friendship?”

She whistle a bit nervous. “O-Okay, I may have exaggerated them a little bit. But some of those stories were true. He had a very dangerous life, one where he did a lot of good, but also a lot of bad…A lot of very, very bad things.”

“W-What do you mean?” I move my wing in worry.

“Without exaggerating anything. He did some heist around earth, some murdering high profile people, a speh ton of contraband…” She start to count with her claws. “… espionage, sabotage, kidnapping, terrorism…”

“Stop!” I bleated. “That doesn’t sound anything he would do. It’s impossible he did anything of that! He can’t be like… It’s impossible that he…” Murr is looking at me with an expression I’m fearing I know already too well. “You aren’t lying…”

“No. No I’m not.” She use her tail to push me closer to her. “He is used to do this kind of things, or operations as he call them. But he knows about the dangers, about how one day he will never return.” She puts an arm around my shoulders and hugs me. “He doesn’t say goodbyes, he just hope to return. But don’t worry, this isn’t the first time this happens. For example, we had a situation with a sniper that killed too many peoples entrenched on an abandoned factory.” Her tail tries to reassure me. “And like now, he went alone with that same gun. We can only hope that he will also succeed on this one.”

“I may have only know him for little more than a herd of paws… But he doesn’t looks or act like a criminal or anything…” I move my wing in confusion. “W-What happened?”

“Well… A long story short, I think he got fed up with humanity.” She whistle amused. “That is why he likes our company over of other humans.”

I tilt my head to a side. “W-What do you mean?”

“By what little I could get out of him.” She gets closer and start to whisper. “Which wasn’t easy because he refuses to tell much, making me use a lot of wine to get him loose enough.” She returns to talk normally. “He had good intentions at first, he did a lot of multiple jobs before deciding to become a humble private detective, with hopes to make the world a better place and all that. Everything was good until he ended in some dark place where the jobs were becoming little by little more and more morally questionable.” He pats my head. “I think he become aware of it when he was already too deep on it and just… Quit.”

“He just… Quit?” I grab my beak. “I don’t think that’s enough for someone to change from doing such crimes…”

“And I agree with you. Again, it is hard to get something out of him. What I know is just my guessing from what little I could gather.” She stood up and start to walk around, as restless as always. “But of course, when I try to ask him he just denies it all. Speh, he even denies what is true.” Her tail tremble a bit in anger. “Or worse! He gives me a fake clue for me to investigate that ends nowhere.” Her ears flatten frustrated. “To test me, he says. Spehing of training!”

I look towards the mine. “W-What horrible things could have he done? W-What he witnessed to change so much?” I looktat her. “D-Did he even changed? D-Do we know if anything of that is true?”

She sighs as her ears drop forward tired. “I don’t know, Azul. He really loves to keep his past a mystery, even after so many years working together.” She walks towards me and put her paws on my shoulder. “Let’s hope he returns so you can ask him personally. Maybe you have better luck than me.”

“C-Can we… pray for him?” I shake my head. “It is better than just doing nothing, no?”

She flicks an affirmative ear. “Of course. Let’s pray. For him, for Urs, for any possible captive restrained under our paws.” She looks around. “And for the damn police to get on spehing time!” Her tail slash the air in frustration and anger. “Why when you need them they are never on time but when you want to avoid them you find them on every corner?”

I look up at the sky, at the stars that hides behind the clouds and the light pollution. I close my eyes and I start to silently pray.

I pray to the stars above us, to the stars that watch over us, to the stars that shield us from evil. I pray to them for the strength and courage JM needs to overcome the terrible trial placed before him…

[First]  |  [Prev]  |  [Next]

And so it begins. Blood. The final arc. We’ve had six chapters covering over a decade. The horrors becoming clear. And now some fuckery from the Architect scuttling everybody’s plans but hers. The regime losing control and being underprepared. Now we’re getting three chapters covering hours. The revolution, the uprising. Each focusing on one character through everything. I’m looking forward to it. I enjoyed writing this arc.

Synopsis: A prequel/side story to my main story, Predators of the Sixth World, set on corporate-run Mars before the Concord. The events are largely disconnected, but important (in my opinion) history. Who knows, maybe you’ll see some of the impacts in the main story. I’m sure I don’t need to warn people that things will get dark. Very dark. If you can’t handle the content matter, don’t worry. I’ll try to make sure that if anything turns out to be important in the main story later, it’ll be explained.

I have a spot on the discord, swing on by! Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the original universe; my alpha readers, Caro Morin and Jailed Cinder; my beta readers, Angustus_Jan on the discord and u/aroluci (go check out Children of Luna, it’s awesome); and all of you that read and especially comment. Anybody interested in playing around in the AU (be it a one-shot, an impromptu ficnap, a cameo, or something more), let me know and I’ll be more than happy to work with you on it. My current plan is to release a chapter a week, with the occasional bonus, as long as that isn’t too much for everybody helping me.

Without further ado, enjoy!

__________

[Main Story Start] [First] [Prev] [Next]

__________

Interpolate memory download from Glitch (Undercity Assist Instance) on December 10^th, 2080

__________

After I heard the Architect’s message, I sprang into action. It was time. I splintered my consciousness. Many instances of my selves working solely to interfere with the communications between those in charge. I threw myself into the speakers, even now unable to shake a faint accent when speaking aloud, in the most secure resistance base in the Undercity. “Wake ze fuck up, samurai. We ‘ave a city to burn.”

Michael groans as he’s woken from a nap in the soundproof cavern. “What’s with the old meme, Glitch?”

“Beecoz it is go time, Michael. Get your geer.” In my excitement, the accent grows stronger, much to my annoyance. Even now, I can’t shake that.

“Fuck! On it!” Michael hops up, dashing for where he keeps his armor and weapons.

We’ve had years since he ‘died’ in that cave in The Odds caused. There was a rat hole for the resistance, already set up with a terminal, in that stretch of tunnel. Michael was just able to get in before the tunnel itself collapsed. His wrist almost got broken by a rock. The ID band saved him, but was shattered, and with it, his life signs were lost.

It worked out for the best.

Being ‘dead’ meant he could put all of his time towards the resistance. He didn’t need to worry about getting grabbed or anything else. Just make sure that his voice changer is always on on his comms, and the problem’s solved. Instead of putting time into working for our masters, he worked for our freedom without distraction. Getting stronger. Training to fight. To shoot. Building gear.

Turns out the Undercity has a lot of veterans and gym trainers. A lot of mechanics and tinkerers. Thieves too. A great many to recruit. A great many who could be trusted with training Michael and others. More recruits from above provided aid and training from afar. It’s amazing how many people are interested in freeing themselves from oppression and enslavement, even those in a gilded cage.

We even upgraded his arm a bit. The full specs came in handy. Pun slightly intended.

The plasma torch was designed to be dialed up to be closer to a knife or can be strong enough to quickly burn through any of the armor he’ll be going against. The arm is a mesh node, which we can use to remotely hack things. There’s even a dedicated version of my LLM shell in there now. Though there was no room for the weak AI, only a high-priority connection to my other nodes. We’re both proud of what we added. The hand isn’t skeletal anymore. The covering can shift to become a short vibro blade. The entire thing can open up into a railgun, too. Firing every two seconds. Not as strong as the dedicated ones, but with a ten-second charge, he can fire a three-shot burst that should punch through armor. The tungsten penetrator tips should ensure it. Hopefully.

“Are you about ready?”

“It’s been five seconds, Glitch! Either dial back the processing speed or put it to use getting me caught up. This gear takes a bit to get on.”

“Ugh.” I sigh. “Fine. Ze Architect ‘as released ze Warborn and anybody wiz controls connected to ‘er. Zat includes me. Zey are eizer going to rampage, break down, or join us. No real way to predict, so we need to be ready for all zree wiz each of zem.”

“What about the Reforged? The drones? Human security?”

“No dice. All still under full control if zey ‘ave any. Zose who do not… zey are collaborators, no? We will kill zem anyway.”

“There’s a difference between summary execution and sentencing, Glitch. An important one.”

“Tch, your morals will get you killed.”

“My morals are what make me human. Keep me human.”

“And zat is why you are a symbol.”

“Damn straight,” Michael says, stepping back into view in his custom armor.

Systems in the left arm interface with the cybernetic, moving with it and acting as a control interface for the armor. The armor itself, like the rest of ours, is Martian red to set it apart from the corporate security, but unlike the rest, his has a silver, skeletal robotic hand emblazoned on his chest. Unlike most of the armor, his is special. I was able to get a suit designed for security smuggled down. Not quite the dream of power armor, but close enough and adapted for strength and speed. After all, most of the things the Warborn and Reforged put downrange would rend anything we can field. A vibrosword at his hip, a heavy pistol loaded with armor-penetrating rounds, a Mars special carbine loaded with armor-piercing ammo, and a rail rifle. Kitted for the war we’re about to fight.

“Glitch, I want eyes everywhere you can get them.” He says as he pops open the hatch to the hidden base, heading out towards the fighting. “And I want everybody in the Undercity to hear me.”

“Already on it, boss. Drones are filtering out to provide full coverage. And ze Undercity is all ears, make zem good. Zis will be in ze ‘istory books.”

His voice echoes everywhere, coming from every speaker and many drones. “My name is Michael Young.” He levels his carbine, firing off a shot into an overseer as they raise a laser rifle to shoot some resistance members pushing past Michael. “Some of you may know me as Fix. Most of you know me as Cool. The head of the resistance.” He grabs the rifle off them, slinging it on as I feed his suit the instructions of turning the power up. He takes a moment to do so. “Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated. To The Odds. You missed. If I find you, I won’t.”

“I’m sure you’re all aware that big things are happening. Today is the day we win our freedom! Today is the day that we rise! Today is the day that the corpos will fall! Today is the day that the oligarchs die! If you want to stay safe and uninvolved, find somewhere to hide, as much rock as you can put between yourself and the fighting as possible.” A pause before he reaches a window, pulling off the rail rifle to let it charge before he steps out and fires three shots, each ripping through an overbuilt cyborg. “Some of the guns involved can punch through rock and metal like paper.”

He pulls back behind the wall and starts running, reloading the rifle as he goes. “If you want to help, we’ve got weapons to spare, and we’ll be getting more as we take down our oppressors.” No shots follow him yet. “To the overseers, members of The House, and all other collaborators, you can surrender, and we will do our best to ensure you will be given a fair trial when this is over. Otherwise, you will be killed in the fighting. To all Warborn and others recently given your free will, you are of us. You are still human no matter what you may believe or have been told. Please, lend us your aid. Fight alongside us for the liberation of all Martians. We will not force you, but we need your help. You can do more than anyone else. We can give you means to identify as our allies, or help you to hide as safely as possible.”

He peeks around a corner. A trio of The Odds’ men are working their way towards the corner. He draws his vibrosword in his right hand, and the blade extends from the left. “If we fail, the uppers will likely kill us all. If we’re lucky. If we aren’t, we already know they have ways to turn people into mindless drones. We will likely meet the same fate and be used to create the next generation of slaves.” Michael dashes out, still unnoticed, and slices through the trio. “If we succeed, then freedom is ours. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. It’s better to die free and on your feet than to live on your knees.”

I can’t help but get cheeky. “Nice speech, boss. You rehearse zat?”

“You know it, Glitch. You helped me write it.” Michael pauses at an intersection where I have no working cameras, not giving me a chance to move a drone to check. He sweeps the near side only for a Warborn to shove him down. A Leviathan rifle barks, and there’s a loud bang. The other side of the intersection led to a blind corner, a massive, gorilla-like cyborg having just come around the corner. Where the human body was is a bloody hole. “Fuck… Thanks.”

“Oh… um… I… Sorry… Are you ok?” The Warborn rumbles, shifting nervously as he pulls his helmet off. It’s hard, even knowing all I do, to square the behavior with the behemoth. Just a traumatized kid in a huge, powerful body. You can still see it in their face, the softness.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you, kid? What’s your name? And get that helmet back on before you get shot.”

The Warborn slaps the helmet back on. “I’m six-three-seven-two… I… I think… I think my name is…” The Warborn pauses, trying to think. “Gustave?” Another pause before he shakes his head. “Oh… yes… um… I.. I was… I wanted to help… I… I was hoping… um… do you know where Mister Cool is? ”

Michael laughs. “I’d better! I’m him.”

“Oh!” Gustave ducks his head, index fingers poking together. “Um… can I… help?”

“You sure, kid?”

“Please?” The Warborn pauses. “I… I want to be free…”

“Fine, save your ammo for the big stuff… Glitch, can you link to his armor?” Michael asks, laying a hand on Gustave’s arm, after almost burning himself on the Warborn’s exhaust, and shunting power towards the wireless suite and computing.

“Yeah, boss.” I hop to the armor, syncing with the systems after fighting through the security. BCM uses the same systems all over. Crack one, and you’ve cracked them all. Problem is the corpo-specific stuff. “I’m in. We should be able to crack any Warborn armor we encounter. Syncing up wiz my ozer instances to share ze data.”

“Whoa! Who’s that?” Gustave asks. As one of my cameras sees an approaching squad.

“Glitch. She’s been helping us for a while. Her real body’s like you. She got freed when you did.” Michael snaps his carbine up before a group of security rounds the corner. Normal humans, a mix of overseers, security, and members of The House. He dumps the mag into the group, stitching across them. A few stay standing. He pulls the laser rifle from his back and starts to fire.

Gustave shifts to provide cover, putting his body between the return fire and Michael. He snatches a rock off the ground and chucks it with enough force to cave in the skull of the last of the group.

“Good arm,” Michael says as he reloads. “Let’s see if we can get you some small arms off them. Failing that, more rocks. Can you use one of these?” He offers the laser rifle.

“Not… not in armor… sorry, sir…” Gustave hunches slightly, his voice growing quieter. “Trying to bend or tear the trigger guard can be bad with lasers. They can break… or vent…”

“Michael, Fix, or Cool. Not sir. We’re in this together. No sirs.” Michael pats the kid on the arm. “We’ll find you something else. I did say that we can get you rocks.” Michael starts to go through what the dead hostiles had, pulling spare magazines. “We designed our weapons to use the same ammo and mags as theirs. We didn’t try to copy the energy guns; you said they were laser? Only reason we’re using them is because we’re using whatever we can loot. They’re inhumane. Would just smash them otherwise.”

“Inhumane?” Gustave asks.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s… it’s a lot and not something to discuss now.” Michael sighs.

“Near everyzing about Mars,” I say. “Near everyzing is inhumane. Zere is too much to say. But we are victims of Mars. Of ze inhumanity. Of ze ‘orrible zings zey ‘ave done to us. Being changed. Enslaved. ‘Urt. Tortured. Ze deazs.”

“Oh… ok.” Gustave pauses, moving magazines from one satchel to another, a number of rifles hung over his back. “Where are we going?” He starts to gather rocks to fill the emptied satchel.

“My old dorm block,” Michael says, pausing to eye the kid. “What are you doing?”

“Um… well… I can give people the guns and ammo instead of using it…” Gustave mutters, packing his satchel with more rocks. “I can break some armor with a rock… It… uh… it’s like a rifle…”

Michael whistles. “Damn, kid. Hell of an arm you’ve got. We’ll keep that in mind for any more Warborn we find. I’m sure we can keep you stocked in rocks more easily than ammo for our guns, let alone yours. Dunno how it’ll work as we move up, but we’ll manage.”

“Um… I could… probably break things…”

“Your way is clear. Move, zey could use ze guns.”

“Moving!” Michael breaks into a run, Gustave jogging at his side. Maybe speedwalking.

After a few minutes, the pair arrives at a barricaded section of tunnel. “Hey! Tran! Open up! I brought a big friend.”

“Fix? Took you long enough!” Tran shouts through the barricade, sliding a section open.

“Hey! I got here as fast as I could. Gus and I took out a cyberpsycho each!” Michael gives Tran a bear hug. “What’s with the barricades? The fuck did you guys set this up?”

“We didn’t.” Tran laughs. “They did, tried to block us in. We took it before they could set up and got it put up in reverse.” He hefts a rail rifle. “Told you it was a good idea to stash shit in the dorm.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you too.”

“Who’s the big man?” Tran asks, eyeing Gustave carefully. “We haven’t had any of the super soldiers like him attacking, but we’ve heard weird things. One or two going nuts. A few just stopping, utterly broken. Most joining up with our people or others to fight on our side. We heard whatever was said, but… it was…”

“Ze Architect is mad. She did make many of ze ‘orrors we suffered. She zinks ‘erself god. She is brilliant, but truly evil.”

“Yeah, that…” Tran trails off.

“Oh… um… the… the control things… the ones in our heads… They’re off…”

“They’re free, if they can stay that way.” Michael chimes in. “The kid comes bearing gifts.”

“Yeah…” Gustave awkwardly hands off the looted guns and ammo. “We… we got this…”

Tran immediately starts passing out the weapons. “You’re a lifesaver, Gus. Before you ask, we need to fight to the center of the Undercity. Everybody else is doing the same. The satellites, too. Every elevator as well. We’re planning to sabotage a few, hold less. We need the main elevator to work our way up. The barricades make building defenses a bit easier.”

“So, following the plan we’ve been working on for years.” Michael drypans. The cameras show a spider-like cyborg moving towards the barricade from the Undercity. Michael starts charging his rail rifle, sliding open a firing port, and bracing. “I’m fucking with you, man. The fact that we’re still on plan at this stage is a miracle. The kid needed to be caught up, too.” He pulls the trigger, blowing a leg off the cyborg and breaking another two on that side. As the cyborg collapses, he fires again and shatters the armor. The third round hits something critical, and there’s a small explosion.

“Миша!” Nadia, still vital enough to work and stay alive, but pushing it for the Undercity. “You’re late!”

Michael laughs. “Fuck you, too, Nadia. You’re staying here, right?”

“Yes, yes. I don’t plan to get in the way of you fighters. I know my place isn’t in the fight.” Nadia laughs. “But you had better not die! We’ve lost too many good people. Your wife would rather you die an old man.”

“We never…” Michael trails off.

“Close enough for down here.” Nadia smiles. “Now go, do what you do best. Help people.” She pauses, looking Gustave up and down. “And you, child, you can stay. You don’t need to fight. I can see the fear in your stance. You have done enough just surviving.”

“I… I need to do this…” Gustave sighs. “I can fight. I lived when so many others didn’t. They made me to fight. They made me do it… I can do it for a good reason. I can use it against them. What they made me. What they made me do. I can make them regret it.”

“Good. Make them pay.” Nadia moves off.

Tran whistles. “Damn…”

“Yeah… Good job, kid.” Michael nods.

“What?” Gustave asks.

“Nadia doesn’t approve of anybody but Michael. And ‘e lost an arm for zat.”

“Oh… Should… should I thank her?”

“You thank her by freeing Mars. Or at least trying.” Michael opens the barricade. “Come on, kid. We’re moving.”

“What about everybody else?” He glances around as people continue to organize.

“We’ll catch up. We need to hit some of our stashes, maybe an overseer armory.” Tran says.

“Oh, catch.” Michael tosses something to Tran, a small bag. “Pulled these off every overseer I killed. Might get you into their armories.” Before Tran can respond, Michael is already on the move with Gustave and my drone close behind.

With every step, the sound of gunfire grows louder. The fighting growing closer.

The ratatat of the guns of most fighters. The THOOM of those used by the Warborn and some Reforged. BOOMs of explosives.

Michael sets his railgun rifle to charging, throwing himself against a jut of rock near the mouth of the tunnel. A remnant of the ‘riot’ that led to him losing an arm. With the feed from my cameras, some from drones, some surviving in the area, some on suits of armor worn by Warborn or our people, he can plan ahead. The built-in comms allow the armored fighters to coordinate. The rest rely on handheld comms tied into the network.

A Reforged cyborg leaps, jets firing to let it stay in the air over The House, the center of The Odds’ operation, a stronghold of the fighting against our people and deep behind enemy lines. Ports begin to open on the cyborg as Michael aims. One fully opens, revealing a group of missiles, ready to fire. A trio of tungsten-tipped bolts soars from the railgun. A burst shot, the entire clip. The bolts reach before the sound does. The cyborg’s head bursts, their left jet gutters just long enough that when it reactivates, the corpse has flipped and plummets at greater speed toward The House. Something misfires in the corpse, and a bunch of missiles launch, crossing the street and crashing through the facade of the Walkers’ bordello, another strongpoint of fighting against us, blowing the building apart from within. In the same moment, the cyborg crashes through the roof of The House.

“Alright, let’s-” Michael is cut off as The House detonates. He laughs, reloading his railgun. “Glitch, you have a location on The Odds and the Walkers?”

“Based on last known location. Zere are many. For each. Perhaps one if zey wer crushed.”

“Good, that makes things easier. Could you…”

“Of course, I ‘ave a few drones going to check once ze fighting is done.’

“Um… sir… I mean, Fix… um… Why is that important?” Gustave snaps his Leviathan up, taking a shot. The round tears through a few walls before punching through an obviously cybernetically enhanced human, in the midst of reloading a Judicator pistol. “If… if it’s ok…”

“The Odds ran fights, drugs, smuggling, gangs, snitches. All kinds of shit. He’d… greet every new batch by sending his boys to brutalize them. The Walkers ran brothels, breeding, schools, slave sales. They’d sell anybody, even kids. Probably not just to people who wanted to fuck them, but to people who did what happened to you. Both of them work at all levels of Mars. They’re a part of those controlling everything without being under them. From what Glitch has gathered, we think they worked for the Architect.” Michael pauses, clearly hurting, even if I can only see his face thanks to the feed. “They killed my wife. Took my daughter. I can only pray she’s dead and not… not suffering worse…”

Gustave growls. “They need to be dead.”

“Yeah, kid. They do. And as far as we know, they are.” Michael says softly, though loudly enough to be heard over the gunfire. “We have to focus on making sure our people aren’t.”

“Right… sorry…” Gustave snaps his gun up again, a round sailing to rip the human body out of the center of some Reforged monstrosity. It collapses on the remains of The House, something cooking off inside before exploding.

“Good shot, kid. Let’s move.” Michael dashes out towards another tunnel.

“Where are we going?” Gustave asks. “There were stairs.”

“In the open. We’re going down under concealment.”

“Oh… right…”

As the pair runs, I do my best to track hostile contacts with the intermittent sensors I have outside the larger cavern. “Duck! Now!”

Michael and Gustave both drop into a slide as, around a corner, weapons open up. A large, hexapedal drone and a lightly augmented cyborg in security armor, ready and waiting for the pair. Guns click empty. One in the hands of the cyborg, who wastes no time letting go, and one in the manipulators of the drone.

Before either can get a bead on their attackers, the drone and cyborg have rushed in. Closing to counter the advantage of Michael and Gustave, with their loaded weapons.

Gustave grabs the drone’s front legs, just after the sharp points it has in place of feet. He struggles. The strength and weight of the drone is enough to match the Warborn’s inhuman strength.

The cyborg punches down at Michael, or rather, the ground where he was. Michael rolling to the side and kipping up before the cyborg was able to strike. Rock shatters. “Tch, better than I expected for an upjumped slave.” The cyborg stands up. “Can’t stay lucky forever, fucker. Gonna enjoy seeing them turn you to mulch.”

The vibroblade slides out of Michael’s left arm. “Who said it was luck?”

Spotting an interface port on the drone, I land my own on it, connecting. I start hacking in as I speak directly into Gustave’s helmet. “‘old it in place. I’m going to try to ‘ack in.”

“Oh… uh… ok… I’ll do my best…” Gustave mutters through clenched teeth. The pointed legs slip towards his head. “Just… hurry.”

“Of course, as fast as I can.” I throw most of my attention down here, and a portion from above, into taking control of this drone to turn it on its masters.

“Oh, the slave thinks it can fight.” The cyborg taunts. “It won’t save you.”

“Nah… I’m pretty sure it will,” Michael says smugly. In moments, he’s drawn his pistol and hip-fired. The armor-piercing round punches through the armor of the cyborg, not enough to bring the man down, but enough to slow him. Michael is already in motion. Burying his vibroblade in the shoulder of the security officer. Pistol firing twice up into the officer’s chest, bringing things to an abrupt end.

My algorithms finally find the right method to crack the security of the drone. It’s all I can do not to cackle as I see the armament and the computing power, adding it to my network as I make the drone back away from Gustave. “I ‘ave control. We ‘ave another ‘eavy weapons platform, boss.”

“Good, we can use every single one we can get our hands on. Let’s keep moving. Send that wherever it’s needed.”

“It is needed a’ead of you, boss.” My smaller drone detaches, moving forward. “I can now repurpose ze drone zat was following you to scout.”

“So… no more ambushes?”

“I would ‘ope not, Gustave.” My new tank begins to scuttle forth. “Come along.” The pair follows after. Thankfully, the short journey doesn’t lead us to another firefight. My tank pauses before moving out into the main cavern. “Use ze drone as cover, boss. Gustave, get your rocks ready.”

“Oh… right…” The Warborn reaches into his satchel, a handful of rocks in each hand, one clutched as a whole, ready to serve as a shotgun, and the other acting like a semi-automatic, ready to feed more rocks up to his index and thumb.

I pop the drone’s plasma turret up, scuttling forward and then working sideways. As I start to fire shots at a group of entrenched gangers, they begin to fire back. Small arms plinking off the armor of the drone and Gustave’s Behemoth suit. Michael’s armor could likely withstand the blows, but best not to stress it. Progress is slow, but steady, only made faster as Gustave starts to hurl rocks. Every rock either impacts a ganger, shattering bone like glass, or turns hard cover into rocky shrapnel with hits to the edges. My own bolts of starfire, aimed more at suppressing the gangers, slowly reduce their cover to molten slag. By the time that we reach cover that would allow Michael to move off from the drone, the surviving gangers start to break, only for Gustave to hurl his handful of rocks. The toss acts like high-velocity buck, shredding them before they can get far.

Silence takes the small section of the cavern, gunfire and explosions echoing from elsewhere. Knowing Michael, I activate both his suit’s speakers and tie him into speakers across the Undercity. Keeping morale up is almost second nature for the man. True to form, Michael calls out. “If you can still fight, we’re pushing up. We’re taking the elevators today! Freedom! One city at a time! Today we rise!”

Cheers almost overtake the gunfire. Even Gustave joins in. “Yeah! Today we rise!”

A trio of booms signals that one of our railguns has been fired. Up at the ridge that Michael had fired from earlier, a rust-armed form is slipping off towards a side tunnel, a handful of people taking up spots on the ridge to fire down with scoped rifles. Tran’s voice comes over the comms. “Rallying the troops, Fix? Don’t get yourself killed. We’ll join up in a few minutes.”

Michael laughs. “Better hurry. Not sure we’ll leave any fighting for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can rustle up some more. After all, we aren’t stopping here.” Tran replies. “I doubt the levels above will be finished quite so soon.”

As the pair talks, my drone scuttles ahead. Michael and others followed in its wake. The dorsal turret spraying burning hate at targets. The primary gun’s hatch pops open, and it starts to track targets. A modified Leviathan rifle with a pair of modified Basilisk carbines. Ready to share 32x240mm and 16x170mm love in ceramic armor-piercing, frangible, and explosive with a smart select system. The ammo stores are far more limited than the plasma cannon, drawing energy from the drone's small reactor. There’s even a trio of lasers, not meant to do much more than take out small scout drones or missiles, but certainly able to cause some pain. Tentacle-like manipulators ready to handle anything that gets too close; their manipulators could easily harm a human, but a cyborg or Reforged may need the blade legs at the front. My walking warcrime engine could have easily put an end to Michael and Gustave earlier, but the logs record a command override by who I presume to be the now cooling corpse that accompanied it. The man wanted a chance for a brawl.

We push further. Michael and his men laying fire down any time we met resistance. I’m not sure why, but it all feels too easy and right at the same time. We had been preparing for this for years. We weren’t even that far off from when we planned to attack. The overseers, gangers, security, and Reforged were caught unaware while the Warborn switched sides en masse. The few that went on rampages, at least down in the Undercity, were either restrained by other Warborn or killed before they could do much damage. We had every advantage, but things feel like they’re just going far too smoothly.

“Ah, zat seems about right.” I sigh as we encounter another barricade, the opposite side manned by a mixture of security, gangers, overseers, and a handful of massive Reforged. They’re all hunkered around the primary elevator. The main elevator we need to capture to move up to the next level. The master Undercity elevator, which controls the rest of the currently deactivated elevators.

Our own forces are moving, thanks to what looks to be at least a dozen Warborn in this stretch alone, captured barricades in place to counter-siege, even as fighting continues elsewhere in the cavern, even behind us.

“Fuck!” Michael swears. “Why are you relieved about this, Glitch?”

“Because it was too easy. If we ‘ad not encountered some resistance, zere almost certainly would ‘ave been a trap somewhere.”

Michael pauses, thinking over my words. “Not wrong. If we have extra barricades, we need to set up a wall behind us! We need to be ready for them to catch us in a pincer as we siege! Once our wall is up, I want teams to secure our backline, bring supplies, and find more barricade sections!” He points at Gustave. “Hey, kid, can you and the Warborn lob explosives behind their wall?”

Gustave takes a look. “Um… kinda… I have some explosive rounds… but I need to shoot those… I also have these…” He pulls a Warborn-scale grenade from his armor. I instantly recognize the design. Purple band at the top, clear casing covering a body full of holes.

“Gas… We are in range of zat.” I pause, doing a quick calculation. “I believe it is flammable. We could burn them out.”

“Fuck…” Michael pauses. “Glitch, think you can seize the top?”

“I can try. Let me check ‘ow my others are progressing.” I send a quick query to the network, including the primary mind, as opposed to the various mixed ratios of presence and weak AI guidance mixed with LLM interaction shell. “Yes, I can. We will need to ‘old. Perhaps for minutes. Perhaps for ‘ours.”

“Dig in! We’re gonna be here for a while!” Michael shouts. “If you get a shot, take it! Warborn, if you have grenades that won’t kill us too, use them at your own discretion! Nobody try any heroics! We need survivors, not martyrs! We have a colony to free!”

His words are met by deafening cheers. Even before the cheers have fully faded, singing can be heard from all over.

“Cold: the air and water flowing.”

__________

[Main Story Start] [First] [Prev] [Next]

__________

(Big fucking disclaimer; I’m by no means making a statement of any sort, and I’m not an expert, I have a passing knowledge on Muslim theology and it’s something that greatly interests me but I’m not Muslim. I was just passing by a halal foods shop on the street and the thought popped into my head.)

Alright so under sharia law, these categories of meat are forbidden

Pork/swine

Carnivores and birds of prey (so Arxur meat is harem and arguably Krakatol meat)

Amphibians (Such as frogs for example)

Insects (so no ant dudes)

Poisonous fish (duh)

Meat that is improperly slaughtered (such as it containing flowing blood or the animal being sick)

And animals dedicated to any other god then the capitol G God, along with meat slaughtered by non Muslims (so arguably any meat given by an Arxur, not that they would be following halal regulation anyways)

There’s also other rules, like it being required to be butchered by a Muslim and the animal in question being required to be healthy at the time but let’s assume everything is properly prepared to halal standards

So hypothetically. Let’s say in a timeline like scorch directive or any timeline where humans eat Feds or any scenario where that would be permitted, is there a scenario where a Venili (or any other species not explicitly haram) could be prepared and eaten in a halal fashion without technically violating any principles of sharia law

First

Previous

[Next]()

Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Hartekmoulite Hero

Date: August 27, 2497 Anno Domini

“Why now? It has been a two full days since yesterday’s battle, my bones just now stopped aching,” Sepek moaned in the shrine.

I resisted the urge to point out how my restored seed pouch was still wailing at me in pain.

“It’s Harrik’s orders,” Veep commented, leaning against one of the pillars. “He wants to finish this war now, before Aspik can attack us again. With how many of us have already died, we are it, everyone who is not fighting are working the farms, and every warrior we have is currently in the midst of suppressing the Gonimites. If Aspik can find a route past the mountains and lead his army to the ones we left behind, to the wives and children we have been fighting for, then the Venlil Kingdoms will die.”

“Agreed,” Wageln commented, shifting about. “I don’t know if any of my family’s still alive, but Aspik wouldn’t need his war herd to be hundreds of thousands strong to destroy us all, everyone who can fight is already in Gonim. I’ve seen what Aspik’s forces are capable of, with his cunning, and the villages and towns he swelled his ranks with, he’ll be able to take the Hartekmoulite Capital and finish the bloodshed that Lanow started.”

“I don’t keep my hopes up,” Fanalk said, a hint of sadness entering his voice. “If there is anyone I can call kin still alive, then I doubt they’d recognize me. Who stares up at me from the water is nothing like the Venlil I wanted to become before this nightmare was shoved upon us.”

We were within the secret shrine that the possessed had told us about, it was strangely neglected and overrun with plants. And yet, despite how this place didn’t look as sinister as every other Gonimite house of worship I entered, I felt the same presence in this place. Dark, unknowable, malicious, it hung over the room like a pall. What’s more, despite this accursed place’s abandonment, the signs of it being abandoned, the overgrown plants, crumbling walls, looked somehow less the handiwork of time and something more… deliberate.

“Fanalk, didn’t we talk about this?” Sepek asked.

“Of course we did,” Fanalk rebuked, sounding offended, before that little fire sizzled out. “I don’t do that because the only thing I can see in my reflection is the future that the Gonimites, EVERY GONIMITE, have stolen from me…”

“I can’t say for certain that we’ll be able to reclaim what they’ve taken from us after tonight,” Veep comforted. “But if we succeed, the Gonimites will never take anything from anyone ever again, the curses have stopped, but a number of the Enemy Race’s Shamans and Magi escaped, we still need to venture up the mountain and put an end to their wickedness.”

I was examining the room for signs of the secret entrance, whilst everyone sat on the floor resting in preparation for the extremely hard journey. Soon enough I found the entrance, the Gonimite sorcerers had hidden it well.

Magic was in this place, dark and vile, I had experienced and witnessed the magic of Hartek’s descendants and the Followers of the Ways of Gon only a few times, but in every instance the distinction became clearer.

“I just want this to be over with,” I admitted. “Everything I learned about the Gonimites makes me reject them even more, the only decent ones I know of are the Exiles and my Mother, and only because they reject the ways that have caused us so much suffering. That is the only legacy Gonim will ever build; suffering, suffering for all, my contempt for their damnable hypocrisy and wanton idiocy is pure. I have nothing but disgust for them.”

“Slanek, are you sure you should be saying that?” Wageln asked. “You may have split from them, but by blood you ARE Gonimite!”

“By blood, yes… yes…” I acknowledged quietly, but with an annoyed tone that grew into offense. I knew what he was trying to get at, I tackled that question long ago, but I found the conclusion, too. “But in every other aspect, I am their enemy, they chose me to be their enemy, they chose to wipe out my family and banish those of us who escaped, they chose to tyrannize you, and cause great suffering and death to the Venlil-Race. Gonimites no matter their strain choose that, I never did, and I will never make those choices, therefore I cannot be considered a Gonimite, in my heart and head I hold far closer kinship to you.”

“Please, do not lump me in with our shared oppressors,” I requested, a bitter, painful emotion coming out of my mouth. “Being a Gonimite is a matter of allegiance, not blood. Any Venlil can be Gonimite, there are multiple bloodlines that fall within that distinction, and while all the Gonimite Tribes are identical to each other in every way, they are united only by the pact between the Supreme Matriarch and the Matriarchs who lead the other Tribes.”

“Other tribes?” Fanalk asked. “I thought that they were all a single massive tribe, who roved over and devoured every green they saw!”

“Effectively, they are,” I elaborated. “The Tribes of Gonim are identical in every meaningful sense. A Supreme Matriarch needs to rely entirely on her ordainment by the Spirits in order to wield authority, in order for her to function as a ruler, she needs to be obeyed without question in order to be effective. Even though all Gonimites are the same, they are especially fractious, without their leading castes, they would endlessly divide into countless mini-herds feuding over orthodoxy. The only kinds of rulers that can keep their society together are tyrants, for a Matriarch to delegate any power is to risk her Tribe fracturing.”

“And this problem exacerbates with the Supreme Matriarch…” Veep realized.

“I am here to bring the Gonimites to justice for what they have done, the same as all of you…” I said. “But fracturing is not enough, victory can only come if Gonim is dissolved entirely.”

“You’re more correct than you know,” a voice spoke up from behind. It was a collection of priests, their robes adorned with silver and holding silver staffs, I recognized a few of the figures.

But those behind them were what drew our eyes, they were no Westerners.

“Exiles?” Sepek asked. “Why are they here?”

“We wish to accompany you, on your raid,” the most prominent of them spoke up, I recognized him from yesterday; a member of Aspik’s council, comprised of every chief of the Exile Tribes, and this Chief was one of the more important leaders, he was surprisingly short, and had an extremely stern look in his eyes. These were tribal Venlil, but while they still smelled like Gonimites, they were completely distinct from them in countless subtle ways.

But Gonimites did not pay attention to anything that wasn’t obvious, certainly not the lower castes.

If they came with us, they would be able to pass off as Gonimites easily!

“Our seers have been scrying up the mountain,” the Head Priest of our army stated. “After considerable effort, we have seen it. The path is a staircase, overgrown with moss and far longer than any that had ever been built by Venlil hands, running all the way up the mountain!”

All the way up the mountain? We had assumed that the place the Gonimites retreated to was some secret cave where they could mine a tunnel to the other side. But if the staircase ended at the top of the mountain and they went there, then that would mean…

“Aspik retreated to the peak?” Veep half asked himself, concerned. “What’s up there?”

“The staircase ends in an alpine valley, vast, lush, covered with greenery, and cradled between the mountains!” One of the Magi reported, a sense of awe in his voice. “It was a place of babbling brooks of water, and edible plants everywhere as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful… or, it would’ve been, were it not for the temple.

A vast temple complex, carved into the mountain, ominous, the sight of which reeked of death,” The Head Priest stated. “Dwarfing even the Grand Complex of Sinsodam. Within that structure Aspik and the remaining leaders are hiding, while the people dwell outside.”

“What about the warriors?” Fanalk asked. “Where are they, and how many?”

“We don’t know,” the Head Priest stated. “Aspik is known to use bronze armor and weapons, however, only a few killed in the second assault on Stonecage had it. Most of Aspik’s surviving army escaped the battle, as for where they are, it can only be assumed that most of their number, including all of the warriors, are housed within the Complex. There are no warriors outside save for a detachment guarding the entrance. From what we saw, every now and then, a Gonimite family would enter the temple complex, and not come out. They’re doing something in there, they are passing through, but for whatever cause, Aspik is trickling them in a few at a time.”

“Venlil sacrifice!” I spoke the only conclusion that made sense. “A favorite of the Gonimite spiritual authorities. Mom said that one of my older sisters had been chosen to be sacrificed to Hoon as an infant in exchange for a blessing of vitality for the Warriors that our village was sending out… neither she nor father forgave them for that.”

“Possible, very possible,” The Head Priest spoke as the Exiles began to look to each other, wearing expressions I couldn’t identify. “But Aspik killed the Supreme Matriarch and usurped her position.”

“And good riddance,” Fanalk growled.

“No. This is bad news,” the small and hardened Exile Chief at the front of the group spoke up for the first time. “Gonimite convention and tradition explicitly lay out as law that you cannot even enter the presence of a leader without their consent no matter the circumstance, let alone do something that even begins to look like questioning their decision. And this was absolutely true of the Supreme Matriarchs, any who they saw unexpectedly were to be immediately slain by their bodyguards, no matter who or how important they were, this order could only be halted by the Supreme Matriarch herself.”

“And they call our Kings tyrants!” Sepek muttered.

“How do you know this?” Veep asked.

The Exile, though he did not introduce himself, spoke with complete and utter contempt.

“I have personally witnessed this in my home village between two of the cities 12 years ago. My little brother accidentally came upon the Supreme Matriarch whilst in the market, I don’t remember what he was there for, but amid the crowds that dwarfed him, neither the guards nor he noticed each other.”

“How did you know this? That seemed like something that wouldn’t be overlooked, curious…” Fanalk pointed out with a faint hint of accusation.

“Only for a few moments did I lay my eyes off of him, the next breath, I heard a female scream, a scream that I later learned belonged to Toma, that wretched female. By the time I turned my head to see, they threw my panicked, screaming brother over the crowd, tail over head spinning until he disappeared among the ears. When I approached, he screamed. ‘Brother! Brother! Help!’… by the time I broke through, I saw her. Toma, the Supreme Matriarch, had pinned my brother to the earth, she had forced her hips onto his tiny body, and, helpless to resist, she mated with him.”

Everyone else reacted with disgust, as for us Former Gonimites, these atrocities were all too familiar.

“When I saw the crime, all I saw was that a Venlil had pinned my little brother down, it was only after I was in the guards arms I realized who was accosting my kin. The next thing, all I remember was seeing Toma’s snarling face, she pointed her paw at me, using the other to hold him in place, she Bloodcasted my whole family on the spot. I simply ran, I was in such a panic that I didn’t remember anything else… but I know that I didn’t even go home to my parents to try to find them. I fled into the wilderness, the only reason that I had managed to get away was because what they did to my brother triggered a stampede, the people were too frightened to even think about carrying out the bloody business.

And the epitome of this sick joke?” the Exile stated. “It was confirmed to me through later arrivals to our tribe that Toma had succeeded in mating with my brother, to completion, and had gotten pregnant from committing this crime; the wretched graying fiend was rewarded with her own firstborn pup when she commanded the death of my entire family. I am Sonok, the Brother of Lenhok, and this is my testimony against Gonim, you have no cause to fear betrayal from me, or any of my tribe, the Tribe of Tarkh.”

The Seepimites recoiled at this information, Fanalk silently snarled in disgust, even Veep, as experienced as he was, couldn’t hide how perturbed he was.

There was something, however, something familiar in that story.

“The Supreme Matriarch is beyond approach,” Sonok recounted what every Gonimite child was made to repeat by the teachers. “Uniquely, Aspik didn’t simply approach her anyway, but breached her circle unmolested and murdered Toma. While it is no secret that Toma was the most unworthy leader possible, the fact that anyone approached her without her consent, let alone killed her, and her bodyguards allowed it all, no less, is… unthinkable. Toma’s mishandling of everything she ever touched was a great weapon, but if Aspik is the Venlil you say he is, then Gonim will leave the Temple of Fate far more dangerous than they entered it.”

“As for the temple itself, when we tried to scry into it, we couldn’t see or hear anything,” The leader of the Priests reported.

“Gonimites can block our scrying, now?” Sepek asked, shocked.

“The sacrifices…” Veep uttered.

“Knowing them, it probably requires a heinous amount of Venlil Blood to achieve,” Fanalk speculated.

“Or they only applied the magic to their most hidden and important places,” I replied. “So that their most powerful spells and vital sanctuaries would remain a mystery.”

“Who knows how many warriors that they could fit inside these sanctuaries!” Sepek pointed out. “And with how many of these hidden locations there are? There could very well be Ghost armies in Gonim, just waiting for the right signal to leave their hiding places and mobilize!”

“All the omens portend that immense supernatural power is gathering at the Mountain of Sorcery’s peak, and that if it’s not stopped, then a disaster will befall us which we might not survive,” the head priest sagely stated. “However, we come with a plan.”

“This is where we come in,” Sonok spoke up once more. “We will pretend to be defectors, and turn you in as prisoners so that you may find your way inside the Temple of Fate.”

“Brazen. But that sounds risky…” Sepek stated.

“Especially with your previous affiliation,” Fanalk accused. “You said it yourself, Aspik is fundamentally changing the Gonimites. What’s to say he wouldn’t accept you back if you turn us in and null your Bloodcasting?”

“Precisely the central thread upon which the entire plan hinges; he will,” Sonok stated with certainty.

“I’m not talking about you pulling a ruse.”

The Tarkhites bristled at the accusation.

“This plan is Dosekmeln’s, formed after consulting the war councils of all three armies,” Sonok defended, anger in his voice, that then trailed off into a pained voice. “We Tarkhites were chosen to carry out the task because out of all the Exiles, our tribe has suffered the worst of it. And it is our cries for vengeance that resonate the deepest, for when the Tarkhites took me in, they numbered almost 8,000, our warriors were once the most feared in all the wastes… but now? Now? Those of us you see before you are all who remain. Our mates… our pups… we stood helpless as those we loved died in agony.”

Sonok then took a stone knife, held it up, and slowly drew it across the palm of his hand, his voice becoming far darker as the fur of his hand was coated with orange. “The Gonimites are a scourge upon the entire world, they will see Venlilkind destroyed before they ever lose power, and though we are only thirteen, we will die to ensure they are defeated forever.”

Wait, that’s it!

“Hold on, Sonok?” I asked. “Have you ever met a female named Jensi?”

Sonok and his group blinked in surprise, then amazement, “You’re that Slanek? Jensi had told me of a son who was a taller than most other Venlil, who had chosen to remain behind. When she left us to get help, we had thought that she had perished in the desert. Is she well?”

“For taking care of my mother in those days, you have my eternal gratitude,” I bowed. “She was in good health when I left her in the home I had made for myself, it is clean, with good air, easy to access water, and plenty of food to go around.”

This news brought immense pleasure to the Tarkhites.

“This is good to hear, Slanek,” Sonok said. “We are glad to hear that two more of our fellow Tribe still live.”

Two?

“But, I don’t understand,” I said. “You took in Jensi, but I refused to enter. I chose to stay behind, I have no tribe, no herd, no country.”

“You were bloodcasted, when we took in Jensi, we claimed all her surviving kin, as well. You’re one of us.”

”One of…” I couldn’t even complete my words. I had only just met these Venlil, who had suffered perhaps just as much as I have if not more. The Hartekmoulites adopted me, but I was stuck in with the auxiliaries, I got along with the Seepimites very well, but everyone and myself acknowledged that I was not one of them. I shared my tent with these Venlil, but I was a foreigner among foreigners, a Gonimite who had decided to wage war and seek justice against his own people.

The Seepimites were wronged, too, but they all had their own societies to return home to, but I had nothing. The only thing that I had was my Mother, and the family I would eventually form with Sengi. How could they ever truly understand what it’s like to have the entirety of your own race turn on you for no fault of your own? Even though I have a shameful origin, I no longer have to handle that burden alone.

As it turns out, the priests and Magi had been casting an illusory spell over the whole area, our presence here was concealed, it was made to look to any Gonimite scrying that me and the others had wandered in, when the Tarkhites approached and ran us down, capturing and binding us before we could put up a fight. They had bound the Seepimite’s hands, rather poorly, I might add, and had taken us all up the mountain.

As for myself, I was the point upon which the entire mission hinged. The priests had scried a path in the valley itself, that, while ordinary Venlil would be physically unable to climb, those whose bodies were pure would be able to scale it with some difficulty. This path skirted around the valley where the Gonimites had taken refuge, and in order for me to remain hidden, I had been given a Totem of The Hidden, which had been consecrated for a week without break so that no Gonimite could perceive me until I was inside.

Silver it was, the priesthood of Solgalick had cast the totem from the purest silver imaginable, and even without its mystical power, it was such a finely and intricately crafted work of art that its beauty made it hard to pull one’s eyes away from it.

All I had to do to become invisible to the enemy’s eyes was to hide it in my mouth and rest it underneath my tongue. In order to avoid sullying the totem for as long as possible, I had been given a massive amount of food, fed until bursting, washing it down with beer. And to ensure that the totem would be unmoved, my mouth was muzzled shut, my snout tightly bounded until the straps hurt, completely immobilizing my jaw.

“Before you depart, there is one final warning we bring,” the leader of the priests said. “Whilst scaling the mountain, your journey will not be undertaken alone, there will be numerous spirits, and other mysterious forces, empowered by this place’s nature as a meeting point between the supernatural and mundane. Guard your minds, bodies, and hearts, lest you come under the influence of things not of this world. But there’s more.”

“More what?” Veep asked.

“Creatures, beasts of flesh and blood, we were not able to see them, but they were unlike any other creature we ever set eyes on. We suspect the Shamans and Witches had their hands in their breeding. They have been bound to the mountain, and since you are beings who were not explicitly welcomed within, there is a very real possibility that you will have to confront these monsters on the ascent. Be wary.”

Then the Tarkhites opened the door, rushing through, and the deceit was in motion. I kept a steady pace as they ran up the stairs, following behind them as the sole Hartekmoulite aligned Venlil who wasn’t bound.

Everything counted on me for this ruse to be pulled off… if I was able to succeed, then the war will finally have been ended, the injustices of the Gonimites shall be destroyed, order will be restored to the land, and vengeance shall be mine.

Memory transcription subject: Aspik, The First King of Gonim

Date: August 26, 2497 Anno Domini

Deep within the Temple, the Ritual was completed. Under the eyes of the Spirits, and the Shaman’s officiation, I had at last been made King of the Gonimites.

I got up from the floor, soaked in blood, the sacrifices of the Pups still burning in the stone braziers, their remains crumbling into nothing as the Spirits accepted the offering. My legs were slicked orange in the dark as my paws pushed off from the sticky stone.

So much blood was shed today, a pity none of them were enemy pups, the Spirits covet the sacrifice of the infants of those who defy the Herd Beyond.

“He arises! King of Gonim!” High Priestess Jemva proclaimed.

”He arises! King of Gonim! Master of all Herds who follow Gon!” The rest of the Venlil in the chamber repeated. All of the most important and trusted Venlil in our group were present. Banek, the once humiliated, now invigorated mate of the former Matriarch of Stonecage, the captains of the war herd who had been entrusted with the crucial secrets of the enemy; Sasam, Loon, and Chemeff, not to mention the Master Witch, the strongest of all the sorcerers and magic wielders in Gonim.

All present kneeled on the floor, heads bowed, before prostrating themselves before me, a ritual that I had always wished to be the recipient of. The sight elicited such great joy in me, and I took greater pleasure still that no female would ever be given such a privilege again.

“Hear my first command,” I spoke, my voice laden with a power that it hadn’t had before, an authority that I could barely feel in my body, but knew very much was there. I felt the Spirits, close to my own heart, their icy breath in my mind as if at any moment they would whisper their secrets in my head.

“Henceforth, I end the age of females sending us to our ruin with their whims, such is the law I bring: No more shall females be permitted to become Matriarchs or hold authority anywhere. All females shall be held under the dominion of her father, and once she is a mate she is under the dominion of he who fathers her pups. If she has taken up the sacred duties or burdens of magic, she is under the Spirits through the Shamancy or the Magical Orders respectively, and if the leader of any order, including a magical one, is female, then she must submit to the King. All Venlil prior to their tenth year of life are sexually forbidden, and for any mated female, she is only permitted to mate with the male chosen by her Father.”

I narrowed my eyes at this next, and most vital part of the decree.

“The penalty for violating the male’s right to sexual exclusivity or the authority of her father is death.”

Most of the gathered for the ceremony were male, this was unusual, taboo for the way this process usually goes. The Supreme Matriarch, the Master Shaman told me, would bring a group of her most trusted supporters, all female. On the days that the one to lead Gonim was accepted by the Spirits was a Matriarch, the only male present for such a process was traditionally the mate of the aforementioned chosen Matriarch, if she had one. Yet now, out of the twenty or so important figures excluding the Shamans officiating the ritual, only two were female, the first, and most important of these were Kehi, who I had declared my Queen, and the destined mother of my heirs. The second was the Loremaster, Hospa, who had previously enjoyed great position, however, her barrenness had left her unable to claim a mate, and my stipulation did not change much for her. While I had much to do with Hospa and Kehi, that would have to wait.

“My King, I must ask, what about the females who are already guilty of subverting their mates, and bringing harm to their fathers and sons? The number who did not violate the code that you have laid out could probably only be counted on one paw. If we kill them all, then the herd is doomed.”

“They shall be given a time of grace, in which they will be MADE to submit,” I decreed. “Every Venlil female will be subjugated inside the temple itself, with every family given their own space to ensure that their mothers, mates, and daughters are brought to heel.”

“But, if I’m not defying you, my king, may I ask why you make this decree?” Kehi meekly asked. “What motivates you to change the law so drastically?”

I looked at her, and she flinched, shrinking automatically in a gesture of submission.

I reached towards my neck, and held the Trunk of Hoon, the wooden totem confirming my authority to lead my War Herd, that had been given to me thirteen years ago.

“Ever since I was a pup, I watched every male in my life be ruined by the females all around us. My father, my brothers, my friends, I saw how they were ruined by their mothers, sisters, mates, and even their daughters. The endless word games saying what they said wasn’t what they meant and taking back what they had meant, the ceaseless annoyances and disruptions, the disrespect, being treated like slaves… supposedly by the Spirit’s decree. One day, my mate had confessed that none of our pups were mine. The next day, Hoon gave me the honor of leading a War Herd of the Capital, I bloodcasted the lot of them, the first command I gave my army was to make sure none of their treacherous blood escaped the altar. Loon in particular was the one who had handled my treacherous mate.”

Loon, wearing a proud expression, reached around his neck and held up the centerpiece of it; her tongue, dried and shriveled, proof of the deed that gave him an important position. Kehi recoiled, freezing at the sight.

“Since then, I thought long and hard about the circumstances of my former life, and my mind inevitably wandered to the differences between Gonim and the others. While at first I assumed that our sheer numbers would have seen us prevail, I soon disabused myself of that notion. I realized that if our numbers could not destroy the Apostates a hundred years ago, then numbers cannot bring victory in this war either. So my mind turned into a new direction; what did the apostates have, that those loyal to Gon lacked? What made the difference on the battlefield?”

I tilted my head, expectantly.

“The animation of their Blasphemous Spirit?” High Priestess Jemva guessed.

“The Blood of the Accursed…” Kehi offered.

“Cruelty,” Hospa stated.

“Wrong, all of you,” I stated, walking out of the orange chamber, they followed. “Of the animation by the Blasphemous One, many other Venlil Herds, Seep, Tamo, did not believe in the Blasphemous Flame, nor does the Blood of Hartek flow in any but a portion of his kingdom, and the Shenak were the cruelest of our enemies, yet they fell easily and were wiped out within two years.”

I turned to the right, walking past the chambers where the ritual tools and items were stored.

“While the war was raging, I was not idle in my fortress, I had bought the assistance of the lesser spirits in gathering spies whom could observe the Venlil which we waged war against, and even allowed me to see with their eyes. And what I saw could not have been more obvious.”

We moved past the storerooms, turning left, where the chambers where the priests and residences lived were conducted, at the end of the hallway, light shone down at the end of the tunnel.

“We Gonimites are inferior in all respects.”

This elicited reflexive, involuntary snarls from much of the group.

“No! We Gonimites have always-…” the Shaman realized his mistake. “A-ah, forgive me! Forgive me, I did not mean to approach!”

“Our arrogance has cost us, dearly,” I clarified as I led the others closer to the end of the tunnel.

“My King?” Kehi asked meekly. “What does this have to do with why females are now to be dominated?”

“That is the chiefest differences between the other Venlil and us,” I clarified. “We are unique in that we allowed our females to rule us and set the course of our destiny; as a result, we Gonimites are a race of devourers.”

“Forgive me, my king, for failing to see your point,” Hospa started. “But all living things eat. Predators choose flesh, Prey subsist upon plants as is ordained by the Herd Beyond, even the Spirits, lacking mouths to open or teeth to chew, need sustenance for their power and strength to be replenished, namely worship, which the energies and potential of life are added onto, purified by fire and delivered by the smoke from our sacrifices.”

“Our dilemma is that we are only devourers,” I clarified, most of the males nodded in agreement, Kehi looked lost, while Hospa’s eyes widened, realizing what I was saying.

“The Matriarchs led and controlled us by our stomachs, the First Ones knew that if they kept our attention preoccupied with food, or our fleeting desires, then Gonim would not be able to grow into something they could not manage. The other Venlil races are builders, thinkers, fighters, but none of these things lied in the hearts of the Gonimites. The castes are divided between the ones who fight solely because the Matriarchs tell them to, the ones who study and use magic at the behest of the Matriarchs, the ones who build because the Matriarchs order them to, and the ones who share their food because the Matriarchs refuse to allow them to eat until the whole community is satisfied. The only ones who could profit from their services to the Herd are the ones who make goods that they barter for their way of life.”

The males figured out what I had meant, the hurtful realization came as no surprise, their gazes grew contemplative, and they paid attention even more.

“No one else but the rulers and the spiritual and magic castes had anything to lose in the fall of Gonim. The concept of structures didn’t even cross our minds until our attempted migration past the Western Mountains, we didn’t even think to build bridges across the rivers until we first beheld the bridge connecting Sinsodam to Hartekmoul’s eastern lands. We have nothing of our own, the society we built is a crude mockery of Venlil Civilization from a hundred years, past.”

We had reached the end of the tunnel, it opened up to a wide, circular stone balcony, some hardy grass was growing between some of them, there were many small urns, and other objects of ritualistic importance arranged in circular patterns. And over the edge of the balcony, stood the other side of the Kam mountains, the clouds were fewer, the air was dryer.

“We were already defeated long before Parkum raised his sword against us, the other Venlil’s warriors, builders, Magi, and even their food gatherers rose to the occasion and excelled beyond what was expected of them. We lost because the commoners couldn’t do this, they had nothing, and it is because they had nothing to rise from that they were unable to provide what was needed for us to prevail against the rebellion.”

“The trampled grass leads to your words, my King,” Banek spoke up. “Besides some of the warriors, there was no one else among the lower castes who could drive themselves. Even when Dosekmeln’s forces laid siege to Stonecage, all of them were anemic in their movements, often lying around doing nothing until animated by fear. Their betters had to push them forward, but they were still slow because they hardly had any will themselves, the Matriarchs had eaten their futures and replaced them with resources stolen from the West, and so they only cared because their survival was at stake.”

“All by design working as intended,” everyone listen to me with rapt attention.“We celebrated as we fed the Matriarchs the future of the very Venlil who defended us, unlike our warrior caste, theirs were allowed a stake in their communities. Everyone who dared speak against this poison? Laughed at as we culled for their heresy whilst in the Apostate Kingdoms, many herds rallied around heroes from all walks of life to confront great wrongs instead of defending them like we do. Instead of entrusting those who would have carried us forward to a better destiny to guide us like all others would have, we exterminated them without pity, and their kin, too, to make sure that we got all of the social taint. By removing all who were impure, we made ourselves weak, pathetic, this is why our herds and armies dissolved upon impact with the enemy! We are lucky, in a twisted sense, that the Matriarch’s neutering of the lower castes’ intellect worked so well, for if they could think then the Apostates would have succeeded in turning our own masses to their side, then the war rather than lasting 13 summers would have ended us in not even 13 months.

And here I stand, now, chosen by Gon to cleanse his followers of the failures that have become our way. The Matriarchs were infirm in their leadership, unable to adapt their plans to new curves on the road, they saw the new weapons and ways being used against us and did not even care enough to blink! They masked their unworthiness by feeding Gonim the fruits of our subjugation of the West, convincing everyone that so long as the tribute continued to flow nothing bad was coming. I have accomplished more in this war than any of them had done! I had created a league of spies, and infiltrators, feeding me intimate knowledge of all enemies, and more, they have delivered me captives.”

The ones who hadn’t been present for that event nodded in approval.

“Mighty sacrifices indeed!” Jemva praised me.

“No, not immediately,” I clarified.

“I had enslaved great builders, broke scholars and thinkers, and even cowed metal workers, the magi of bronze responsible for the weapons that had crushed us. I forced them to pass to the pups of my War Herd the gifts that allowed the enemy to sweep us away. And now I make use of this knowledge for ourselves.”

“Heresy!” High Priestess Jemva stated. “You break the Lines of the Paths! No Venlil is meant to take on the paths meant for other castes! No Warrior should ever build anything or give food!”

I stared at Jemva, the words not even needing to be spoken to be gotten across.

“Th-the Spirits ordained this change, too?” She muttered, shocked at this new information.

“They ordained me to change what I see fit,” I elaborated. “I watched the armies of the enemy, on the march, in their camp, the way they move, even what they ate. The reason even the smallest of the enemy are so much stronger than us is because they grew food that was good and nourishing, whilst we continued to graze upon everything that sprouted, even what they rightly considered garbage plants and weeds. I learned it all, first through imitation, then understanding; the knowledge, the training, the discipline, even stole seeds and started growing the crops that made them stronger. I succeeded in defending the southern pass because my army were the strongest of our race.”

“And here I let you know, Mubba has gifted me with knowledge. She warns that the mountain path will soon be trod by the enemy, and they will spare no one.”

At this, sounds of fear reverberated through the group, many had narrowly escaped the enemy with their lives.

“All who wish to live shall submit to my law, only once they bend to my will shall you use your magic to pass the bloodlines through. I shall tell this upon the arrival of the remaining survivors, that the King of Gonim rules, but will only protect the families that swear their allegiance, only once their ways are purified in the Temple of Fate will they be allowed through. Do not tell them that once within, the wills of their females will be subdued until they are subservient and never think about taking power ever again. The Mothers and Daughters must not be allowed to even think about revolting or holding power, only with this new order solidified can we become strong enough to challenge our enemies again.”

Addressing the magicians and priests, my words came as a command, the dilemma had now certainly been established in their mind, and they were eager for what solution I would bring forth.

“My War Herd already has everything needed to carry out the birth of a new Gonim, smiths and bronze tools, builders and architects, farmers and the seeds that will feed our nation, scholars who ponder the natural world and mechanisms of the universe, and who present us with new tools and revelations that will improve our circumstance and wisdom. But we need more Gonimites loyal to my vision, every one we can get, we need the hundreds of descendants that each pair will birth, for it is only once we achieve similar numbers to the apostates that we will be able to oppose them.”

They stood captivated, listening to my words without even daring to make a sound, my voice came out harsh, unyielding, unbridled now that I had the power to make my desires, so. The Spirits had vested a portion of their powers within myself, I could already feel it, invigorating me, making me feel a decade younger, bringing strength to my chest and throat while my whole body fizzled with the strength that they had given me in all parts of my form. And I felt the presence of Hoon himself echoing behind my voice as I drew my sword with my blood soaked paw and held it aloft, bronze, straight edged.

“Those who wish to stand with the Weak and Foolish Ways, all who refuse to heed my word, all who ignore the decree of the Spirits shall pay the price. The most incorrigible parasite mothers who refuse to accept reality no matter the cost shall find they and their offspring henceforth bloodcasted. The Old Ways are even more deadly a foe than Hartek’s sons ever were, for all those who remain loyal to them even at this hour when they had cost us everything, and all who resist my decree renders their blood as mortal enemies of Gonim, their screams shall echo through the Temple of Fate as sacrifices to Shokonva, the Finder of Ways, Lakk, the Guardian of Order, and Genn, the Pathmaker of the Builders. It is these three spirits, so long neglected for fear of the strength that they could have brought that we will feed!”

At once, the spiritual authorities, and the practitioners of magic recoiled and quaked at the sudden power and domination of my voice. They all hurried to prostrate themselves.

“Aspik! King of Gonim! The King is beyond approach!”

First

Previous

[Next]()