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Ok, here we have a cliffhanger just as the apprentice's powers are truly released. Liking the approach of Idrithrel and her attitude here. We shall see if her confidence is actually over-confidence.
Idrithrel is one of the characters at the top of the "power-scale".

Why would Idrithrel tempt fate like this?
I admit, it would've been funny.

But I do think that trope is abit overdone. :)

Who (or what) did Anastijia just make a deal with? Why do I feel like that deal has... hidden clauses?
I'm not telling. :oops:

I'll be posting the last chapter of this short story later today. I have two more short stories (like, short) before I will start what you'd consider "the main plot" (even though all of this stories are setting it up and will be relevant to it)
 
Anastajia: Ch. VI
“My lord cometh. Be it now or in a hundred years. He will bathe your galaxy in fire. Your corpses shall sit at the foot of his throne. Empress Kryszorwyn, you, are anathema."

Avatar of the Eater of Worlds




“My head hurts…” Anastajia groaned as she clutched at her forehead. Looking around, Anastajia noticed that she was inside a medical facility, hooked up to a number of devices she could not recognize. Her body ached all over, her muscles screaming with every move she made. But there was no visible wound, nothing.

The door to the room opened; it was Idrithrel. Her face was stern, but she felt slightly different. She felt very much refreshed. She was no longer wearing her robes, but instead a violet armor made of several alloys and compounds unknown to Anastajia.

“Have you come to?” Idrithrel enquired.

‘Plume…’ Anastajia thought to herself; as she tried to raise to her feet, a whirlpool of psionic energy being materialized at her fingertips.

Idrithrel reacted immediately, twisting her hand and dispersing her attack.

“Ack!” Anastajia cried out in pain, looking as Idrithrel towered above her.

“Plume is fine, my dear child. He was never in any real danger.” She explained as she let go of her hand.

Anastajia grit her teeth, doubtful of her words. “I saw you strike him down. You almost killed him!”

“Almost killed him? I suppose that it may have looked that way to you.”
Idrithrel scoffed. “Realistically, my dear, you know that if I wanted to, I would've done so.”

She wasn’t lying. Anastajia couldn’t really explain why, but there was no uneasiness in her voice. Given her abilities and experience, given the way she has seen her mop the floor with him, it is entirely possible that she could have killed both her and Plume without much resistance.

Anastajia dropped back into her bed.

“I… went out of control, didn’t I?”

“You did.”
She responded. “You’ve caused damages worth billions of credits to the Ecclesia Ziggurat. Don't mind it though. You are in esteemed company. You wouldn’t be the first person to do so… only the second.”

Anastajia heaved a sigh. “You don’t sound too upset about it?” She was confused.

Idrithrel shrugged her shoulders lightly pulling herself a chair next to the bed and sat down.

“Why would I? I aimed to do that, to push you over your limits.”

Anastajia let out a defeated chuckle. Her voice was trembling lightly.

“I went out of control at the Academy on Zith before once… I heard I almost killed a dozen Psions before I was brought back under control.”

Idrithrel remained silent.

“Plume tried to reassure me multiple times, saying that I could not control my powers and that it was not truly my fault. They were there to help me...” Anastajia continued on. “But I could see the others looking at me. Mostly fear... distrust.. Heh. Being a human didn’t exactly help either.”

Anastajia slowly broke out into tears as she continued.

“I was so happy when he continued to train me. I made some improvements, slowly but surely. I could feel subtle changes in psionic flows, I could communicate telepathically. Somewhat. But I never could really use my true powers.”

Idrithrel stood on her feet and leaned over the girl, gripping her tightly, hugging her. She would not say anything, but there was no need to.

For the first time in years, Anastajia wept loudly.



Several minutes had passed since then and Anastajia finally calmed down. For the first time in many years, her heart no longer felt as heavy; she no longer felt the same pressure crushing her.

“You will remain here until tomorrow to recuperate.” Idrithrel explained.

Anastajia nodded slightly. “And what of tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow we will restart your training. We’ve finally reached the starting line.”


Idrithrel smiled triumphantly as she reached for Anastajia’s hand, gently twisting her hand so that her palm may face up.

“Focus on your palm… You have already awakened your powers, Anastajia.”

A moment passed, and upon her fingertips a small pool of psionic energy materialized, extending all the way up to her palm. A small, crackling light appeared.

Anastajia’s eyes glistened, staring at the fiery ball of light. Her powers obeyed her, for the first time in her life. For the first time in her life, she could call upon her powers and manifest them.

“That is your power, Anastajia. You seem to have a great affinity for pyrokinesis, much like me.” Idrithrel explained. “Though it would seem that the quality of your fire is much greater.”

It was a brilliant fire. A ball of violet fire, exuding the aura of the Shroud itself.

‘Indeed… Her fire could potentially even rival Kryszorwyns.’ Idrithrel thought to herself. ‘With the correct training, she will easily surpass me.’

During this revelation, the door opened wide once more. A tall avian humanoid entered the room, his right arm in a brace.

“Plume!” Anastajia exclaimed, bolting out of her bed and rushing towards her master. “You’re fine!”

Plume smiled softly, patting her on her head.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Anastajia.” Plume apologized as he looked at Idrithrel. “Idrithrel had done quite the number on me.”

Idrithrel scoffed and shrugged her shoulders. "Not my fault you’re so weak.”

“Look, Plume, look!”
Anastajia tugged at him as she once again materialized a bright ball of light in her right hand. “I can finally use my powers at will.” As her tears welled up.

Plume displayed a half smile and nodded slightly to the girl as he embraced her. Behind her, Idrithrel’s gaze locked onto that of Plume.

“Anastajia. Me and Plume need to have a talk, alright? Go, get, rest.”

Idrithrel sprung to her feet and placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder before motioning her back to her bed.

Anastajia easily complied while the two exited the room.



“It’s the first time I ever went to the Ziggurat’s rooftop.”

Plume noted as he basked into the light of Miresh. The Ecclesian temple towered above any other construction on this Void Sphere; the endless swathes of duraconcrete and neutronium sprawling in all directions. You could sense the dark energy seeping in every crevice.

Paradise domes floated above the surface level, residences of the highest of the Mirati nobility. And above all, the floating Seat of Power, the fortress residence of the royal house, and the de facto government building of the Mirati Empire, where the Empress herself resided.

“Hmm… But I cannot shake off the feeling that even the air itself is artificial.”

“Because it is.”
Idrithrel sighed. “Everything you see, everything you feel, is the culmination of hundreds of thousands of years of progress. Precursor technology was… It was something else.”

“And to think that over a hundred years ago, this technology sent the entire galaxy into one of the most destructive wars it had ever seen.”

"Unfortunately, this is the way of our galaxy. We only move forward through conflict.”

“I wish it weren’t so.”
Plume said sadly. “You know, I’ve never loved fighting much.”

The Vissari psionite slowly turned to face his former master, his left arm behind his back.

“I’m pretty good, mind you. I wouldn’t have much of a chance against you if you were serious, hell, you beat me to that state just for the sake of goading my apprentice… but…” he shook his head dismissively. “As far as the galaxy at large goes… bar maybe Master Turgal and a select few from our Order, should I need to, I’ll probably win.”

“I hope you haven’t taken what happened inside to heart.”
Idrithrel replied.

“Not for the reasons you’re thinking of.” Plume reluctantly confessed. “I was still conscious when her powers went out of control. My head was ringing, obviously…” Plume cackled softly, causing Idrithrel to grin herself. “I would’ve never been able to subdue her. Not a shot in hell.” He lowered his head and sighed.

“I’ll be honest with you, Plume.” Idrithrel nodded. “I’ve not seen such raw potential since I trained the Crown-Princess herself. Sorry. The Empress. Empress Kryszorwyn aside, a single human psionic wielding such power... it's going to be a long road ahead for her.”

“I know. And that is exactly why I must ask a favor, Idrithrel. We both know that I will never be able to train her properly.”

“Are you sure about this, Plume? Knowing Turgal, he sent you here to get the girl across the starting line, and then have her back for supper.”


Plume looked towards the sky and pondered for a moment before turning to face his former master once more. Lowering himself to one knee, he dipped his head before the Mirati warrior and pleaded:

“Please take care of the girl. Train her, as you would your own pupil. You’re her only real chance.”

“You do understand that her training… and probably most of her life will be in the service of the Imperium.”

“I do.”


Idrithrel sternly approached her former apprentice and placed her hand on her shoulder. Despite the look she was putting on, her chest was bursting with pride at the actions of her former apprentice. She knelt next to him and as she grasped his face between her palms: she spoke softly:

“Very well, Plume of Silver. But promise me this, my dear.” her eyes filled with an uncharacteristic concern. “Take care of yourself. And should Turgal attempt to force you out of the Order, return to me.”

Together the duo rose to their feet.

“Mireesh Marr and my Order of Ecclesia will always welcome a strong psionic, no matter their background.”

“I certainly hope it’d never come to this.
” he replied cheekily, causing the two to burst out in laughter.



A few days have passed since then.

Inside the Mireesh Mar spaceport, Anastajia and Idrithrel are seeing Plume off after he recovered from his injuries.

Plume’s eyes were filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow as he looked down at his young protégé.

“It’s time, Anastajia. We must part ways for now. Your training with me is complete, and it is time for Idrithrel to take over.”

“Master… Plume.”
Her voice was trembling slightly. “Why can’t you stay? I don’t want you to go.”

A few tears welled up in her eyes, causing Plume to kneel and wipe them off.

“I must return to Zith. You know this. Our work never ends, the galaxy doesn’t really stay still. You’re strong, Anastajia. You’ve made it so far, despite everything that was thrown your way. Stand up, stand proud. You don’t need me any further.”

Anastajia nodded, trying to hold back any further tears.

“I trust Idrithrel, and you should too. She’s going to make sure you never have to fear your powers ever again. Make sure you behave, aswell.” He smirked. “No running off to the middle of nowhere to play with stolen artifacts.”

Anastajia nodded further, before mustering the few words: “I promise to make you proud, Plume.”

Embracing her, “You already have, my dear.” He said.

Plume released the girl from his embrace before standing up on his feet. He offered Idrithrel a curtly nod before turning around and walking down the long hall, his figure growing smaller with each step.

“Remember my offer, Plume.” Idrithrel called out to him.

Plume held up one of his arms in acknowledgement before slowly disappearing in the darkness.

“Let’s go, apprentice.” Idrithrel turned around towards their space shuttle and slowly broke off from Anastajia.
 
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Good chapter to lay out the path for Anastajia. Now, we will see what penalties Plume may play.

I'll be posting the last chapter of this short story later today. I have two more short stories (like, short) before I will start what you'd consider "the main plot" (even though all of this stories are setting it up and will be relevant to it)
Interesting to hear that all of this so far is really preface to the larger story. Will be interested to see where Anastajia fits in the grander story. Thanks for the update.
 
The Order of Psion's reaction to that could tell us a bit more about them...

Was Idrithrel the first to damage the Ziggurat badly? Or was that statement a reference to someone else (possibly the Empress)?

Who is the Avatar of the Eater of Worlds? When did they say that?
 
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Good chapter to lay out the path for Anastajia. Now, we will see what penalties Plume may play.


Interesting to hear that all of this so far is really preface to the larger story. Will be interested to see where Anastajia fits in the grander story. Thanks for the update.
I've yet to decide who's the "real" protagonist, honestly; but Anastajia and Aleksandar will get the most love, I reckon.

The Order of Psion's reaction to that could tell us a bit more about them...

Was Idrithrel the first to damage the Ziggurat badly? Or was that statement a reference to someone else (possibly the Empress)?

Who is the Avatar of the Eater of Worlds? When did they say that?
We've not yet met any avatar of any Shroud gods; but they will be playing a role in the story. I figured this quote format would let me squeeze in some background lore without driving me into a corner narratively.

On that note, I will most likely post a new chapter tomorrow; I've been busy these past few days, plus the new saga for epic the musical released :cool:
 
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Rodi Tieberg: Ch. I
“Psionics are a plague upon this galaxy, and I am afraid there is nothing we can do to stop it."

Archon of the Dannian Confederacy



Oslen, an agri-world situated in the territory of the Dannian Confederacy was finding itself under siege by Boellian insurgents. Boellians, one of the few allies of the Human Empire during the Coalition War are a species of strong, militaristic bipedal mammals with latent psionic powers. After their defeat in the Coalition War, their territories were annexed into the Dannian Confederacy, leading to their state ceasing to function.

Thoroughly humiliated, the Boellian leaders were either sentenced to life imprisonment by the leaders of the Coalition, or summarily executed after the Boellian fleet’s defeat in the battle of Thulis. With their entire leadership destroyed, the Confederacy moved quickly to seize their planets and institute martial law during the transition period of their annexation.

Due to their physical construction, Boellians made for very efficient workers in the Dannian forges, mines and agri-domes; effectively, the Boellians were transformed over night into indentured laborers and forcefully relocated from their home planets all over the Confederacy’s territory. Initially, these events sparked outrage among the xenophile and egalitarian factions within the Coalition, but they amounted to only token sanctions and warnings. After all, war support was minimal after the decades of war, and the Boellians fought on the side of the Human Empire. To some, these were their just desserts.

Over the years, tensions between the Boellian workers and the Dannian colonists reached a boiling point when a group of Boellian workers was executed for the sabotage of a mining facility on one of their fringe colonies. An independent investigation into the matter was launched by the post-Coalition Galactic Council; the investigation concluded that there was insufficient evidence that the workers had caused the destruction of the facility, and that the execution was extra-judicial. A diplomatic conflict erupted between the Dannian Confederacy and members of the Galactic Council, resulting in the stationing of a peacekeeping mission on the Dannian worlds to oversee the treatment of the workers.

A few weeks before the first boots touched on the ground, the entire northern sector of the Confederacy was engulfed by the Boellian revolt, with the insurgents seizing control of several planets and system, as well as destroying a key military shipyard and Yggdrasil Orchid Complex, completely shattering the Dannian food production lines. Initial Dannian response was weak, suffering several defeats at the hands of the Boellian ragtag fleets. In a shameful display by their Archon, the Confederacy requested a full-fledged peacekeeping mission to restore order to their planets; this request was promptly denied by the Imperium, citing their previous infractions; food and medical aid will be provided to the Confederacy, but there will be no further boots on the grounds. Activated units will be deployed to the Dannian territory in order to ensure that the insurgency does not grow any further, but it will be entirely up to the Confederacy to restore peace to their borders; and the Council will be watching the events unfold to ensure that there are no more extra-judicial killings.

To the matter at hand. Oslen was now currently under siege by the Boellian insurgents. Rodi Tieberg, a Wadallan lieutenant with the United Galactic Peacekeeping Forces was deployed to the planet alongside the 8167, 8200, 8342, 8448, 8469 and 8567 battalions to ensure the safety of the Dannian colonists and the agri-world itself.

Wadallans are distant genetic cousins of the Humans; a subspecies of humans adapted for the cold and freezing wastes of arctic planets. Given their natural hardiness, they make for great soldiers and are capable of fighting in most terrain and weather. Wadalla itself is now a planet under direct Imperium control because of the Coalition war.




Rodi Tieberg

United Galactic Peacekeeping Mission
8167 Battalion, Infantry
Stavanger, Oslen




Stavanger is the largest city on the planet of Olsen, and the location where the bulk of the peacekeeping mission forces was stationed. As a result, it was under constant threat from the Boellian Insurgency.

It was early morning. Lieutenant Rodi Tieberg and his squad were patrolling the lower levels of the city. After the attacks began, martial law was enacted, and civilians were no longer allowed outside of their homes or workplaces. Rations were distributed by the local law enforcement agencies, while the peacekeeping mission and the remaining combat effective garrison units contained the insurgent threat until further relief.

“We’ve been on this heap of dung for five months now, Lieutenant. When are we going to finally get that leave we’ve been promised by the Admiral?”

Thum-Bael, a Qwumx demolitions expert asked. He was one of the first few members of the squad, having served with Rodi on peacekeeping efforts in Vissasi territory before during the War of the Four Clans.

“Whenever the Admiral wants us to, Thum-Bael. You ask me as if I can send us home myself.” Rodi answered.

“Funny. Isn’t that what a commissioned officer is for? Leaves… papers… administration work?”

Rodi shook his head. “You’re awfully chatty today, did something happen? Did you finally manage to smuggle a pin-up magazine in your bunk bed?”

“Hey you two… Can you keep it down?”
Alwin interrupted, before motioning them to stop.

Alwin, a Mirati recon specialist. He was the latest addition to the team after their previous recon specialist was killed by an insurgent sniper.

Rodi and Thum-Bael nodded and knelt next to him.

“What’s up?” Rodi inquired. “Have you seen something?”

“I have two unidentified individuals in the alleyway to our front, three hundred meters out.
” Alwin said, while activating the quadcopter drone attached to the back of his armor. “I’m going to activate it’s cloaking system and have a peek.”

“Understood. Thum-Bael, keep an eye out on the rooftops, I don’t want us to stay on this road for too long.”


Between the squad and the supposed alleyway there were several parked vehicles. It was still a few hours until the curfew ended and people could leave their homes; even so, it was not uncommon for them to catch insurgent sympathizers or other groups up to no good skulking around the city before dawn. Two days ago, Rodi and his squad intercepted a group of sympathizers trying to smuggle electronics and rations to one of their contacts in the Boellian insurgency. Thankfully, they did not resist and were peacefully apprehended.

“You think it’s an ambush?” Thum-Bael asked, staring down his sights.

“I don’t know.” Rodi shrugged his shoulders while tapping the radio transmitter on his helmet. “Lieutenant Tieberg to BASE, come in.”

After a few moments, a coarse voice replied.

“BASE copies, Lieutenant. How may I help you?”

“We have suspicious activity at our location, three hundred meters to the east. Can you initiate a scan? I’ll pin you the location in a second.”

“BASE copies. Awaiting coordinates.”


Rodi tapped the buttons on his left forearm before confirming the delivery.

“BASE is initiating a scan… Stand-by.”

A few moments passed before a loud zap was heard from the direction of the alleyway. Alwin immediately shot up to his feet, motioning Rodi over.

“Lieutenant, the drone got zapped. I couldn’t get a clear look at them, but I can tell you that one of them is Boellian.”

“Well that’s just great…
” Thum-Bael moaned.

Rodi swore under his breath before nodding.

“What about the other one?”

Alwin shook his head.

“I can’t tell. He’s clearly a humanoid, but he was wearing a black robe as well as a mask to cover his face. Drone’s systems could not scan through it, so whatever that mask is made of, it blocks our facial recognition software.”

Rodi whistled.

“You can do that? I thought that the Council’s identification systems were unbeatable.”

Alwin shrugged his shoulders, unsure what to say.

“Fine, whatever. Lieutenant Tieberg to BASE, come in.”

“BASE copies, Lieutenant.”

“We have identified one Boellian at our location, as well as an unknown humanoid. Appears to be masked and jamming any identification efforts.”

“BASE copies. Scan is complete. We have located one Boellian to your east, three hundred meters out.”

“Copy that. What about the other one?”

“BASE cannot identify any other presence at the coordinates. One Boellian. Over.”


Rodi furrowed his eyebrows at Alwin and Thum-Bael. Whoever that humanoid was, he was also jamming the planetary scanning systems.

“Lieutenant Tieberg to BASE, are you sure?”

“BASE is positive. Proceed with caution. I have dispatched reinforcements to your location. ETA 5 minutes.”


As Rodi and Alwin continued to look dumbfounded at each other, Thum-Bael gestured to the alleyway.

“What, are you telling me we’ve seen a ghost? Is BASE making fun of us?”

“Ghosts don’t exist. Unless you’re talking about Shroud aberrations, in which case we’d be in a whole lot of trouble, Thum-Bael.”


Alwin smirked at him. Thum-Bael was visibly unamused, going as far as coming over to smack the back of his helmet.

“If it was a Shroud infestation, we’d know by now. Let’s go check it out, get ready to apprehend the Boellian.”

“Curfew is almost over, Lieutenant. On what grounds are we apprehending him?”
Alwin asked.

“On the grounds that he’s a Boellian, out before the end of the curfew, and meeting with suspicious individuals in a dark alleyway. Is that good enough for you, Alwin?”

Rodi replied; annoyed by Alwin’s question, one of his eyebrows twitched.

“Ready up your weapons and shields.”

A boon of being a part of the peacekeeping missions initiated by the Council was the equipment. Given that the peacekeeping forces were well trained and equipped, the Council did not shy away from splurging on armor and weapons. Duroceramic multi-environmental armor with integrated communication and drone systems. Fifth Generation Krugger Plasma Rifles, like the ones developed by the Taufean Republic, but specifically outfitted with a stun mode should the need arise. In a direct confrontation, at least when it came down to infantry equipment, the Peacekeeping force could potentially rival what the Imperium had. In a way, it’s not really a surprise, since the Imperium did fund a large chunk of the budget.

As the trio approached the entrance to the alleyway, the Boellian and the unknown humanoid were waiting for them. Nothing special about the Boellian, but the humanoid was giving off an uncomfortable feeling, causing the trio to unknowingly tighten their grip on their weapons.

“I am Lieutenant Tieberg with the United Galactic Peacekeeping Mission. You are currently violating curfew. I will need you two to come with me.”

No response.

“Do you two not understand me? I need you two to face towards the wall, hands up and no sudden movements.”

No response again.

“Something’s wrong, Rodi.” Thum-Bael complained. “I say we waste them.”

“No. Switch your weapon to stun mode and approach.”
Rodi ordered.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, man.” Thum-Bael complained again but complied. After switching his weapon to stun mode, he quickly made his approach towards the duo. “Last warning, boys. Face the wall.”

For the third time, no response. The Boellian and the humanoid merely looked at each other for a moment before turning around and making a run for it.

Instinctively, Thum-Bael opened fire, but could not stun them at this range. The weapon output was too low for this distance. Immediately, he broke off in chase, followed by Rodi and Alwin in tow.

“Lieutenant Tieberg to BASE.” He panted “We’re pursuing the suspects through the alleyway. Heading east.”

As the chase continued, the alleyway broke off in two directions, with the Boellian heading to the north and the humanoid continuing east. Thum-Bael stopped before the bifurcation to switch his weapon back to lethal. Rodi tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past him to the north.

“We’re not splitting off! Keep chasing the Boellian, let the humanoid go! I’ve already instructed BASE to send the reinforcements into his direction.”

“Are you sure?!”
Alwin chased after him, panting.

“I’m not halving our combat effectiveness. I’d have a horrible feeling if we chased after him. We’ll focus on the Boellian and let the reinforcements deal with it.” Rodi answered. “We’re three, they’re an entire platoon. Now keep running!”
 
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Once the action starts in this chapter it gets interesting. Willing to follow this chase to see where it ends up. Good luck!
 
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Are the insurgents working with anyone?

Honestly, it sounds like the Dannians were asking for this revolt, especially given the quote at the beginning...

How many human subspecies are there, and were all of them once ruled by the Human Empire?
 
Are the insurgents working with anyone?

Honestly, it sounds like the Dannians were asking for this revolt, especially given the quote at the beginning...

How many human subspecies are there, and were all of them once ruled by the Human Empire?

Yeah. All of them were ruled by the Human Empire, and once splintered, they were spread out among the coalition. But, like I said before, there are now multiple "states", with varying degrees of autonomy.

As far as the insurgents go, carrying a multi-planetary revolt wouldn't be so easy as an unassisted insurection; there's multiple interests in breaking the galactic status-quo...
 
Rodi Tieberg: Ch. II
“Capture them all. Young or old. Man or woman. They will serve as sacrifices for the Eater."

Lorkan of the Cult of the Eater



Rodi Tieberg
United Galactic Peacekeeping Mission
8167 Battalion, Infantry
Stavanger, Oslen


The sound of their rapid footsteps echoes off the walls, mixing with the occasional clang of a kicked-over trash can. Lieutenant Tieberg’s party had to maneuver around corners with sharp pivots, often using the walls for leverage; their shoulder armor bearing most of the brunt on impact.

As they continued their pursuit, it was clear that this alleyway was nothing but a claustrophobic maze of walls and junk, barely wide enough for two people to run side by side. Eventually, the alleyway would open into a large courtyard. It was actually a small playground between a few apartment blocks.

“Hngrrh.” the Boellian complained for the first time as he stares at the dead end.

Within a few moments, Rodi and his men arrived at the end of the alleyway, their weapons raised, ready to fire at any moment.

Rodi managed to issue a verbal order between his pants, motioning the duo beside him to be ready with a hand signal at the same time.

“Race’s over. You’re surrounded. Surrender now, or we will open fire.”

“Don’t make us waste you, my guy. It’s not worth it!”
Alwin interjected from the side.

The Boellian paused for a second before tilting his head, somewhat confused. His reaction immediately threw off his pursuers. With a sigh, the Boellian spoke.

“I was really hoping to lose you all in those alleyways.”

Slowly but steadily, psionic energy began to gather around the Boellian.

“Shit!” Alwin cried out. “He’s psionic!”

“Open fire! Waste him!”


A barrage of plasma fire was released towards him, to ill effect. A visible psionic shield appeared before him, dissipating the plasma in all directions.

“Energy weapons against a psionic? Really?” the Boellian mocked them. “My turn.”

With the flick of his wrist, the seat from one of the nearby swings was ripped off from its chain, flying at breakneck speed towards Thum-Bael, knocking him onto the ground. At the same time, a coil climber was ripped out of the ground, smashing directly into Alwin’s chest, sending him flying backwards.

Rodi himself ducked down, evading the debris that would be sent his way. With a single, effortless movement, he lunged forward, dropping his plasma rifle to the side and switching to his melee weapon, a black, shiny hatchet. As he continued to close, the Boellian sent more debris flying his way; though he swatted it away using his hatchet.

“Good try, but you’re ill-equipped to deal with me…” the Boellian lamented, before catching Rodi in a mass of psionic energy. “Now get lost.”

Rodi was sent flying into the apartment block, crashing into the wall. He gasped on impact, all the air escaping from his lungs. Slowly, his gaze darkened, and he slipped out of consciousness.



A while later…

“Wake up! Hey! Wake up dammit!”

It was Thum-Bael’s voice. It was calling out to him.

“Is he dead?”

Alwin.

A few more moments passed as Rodi struggled to regain consciousness.

“Buh—what—what’s going on? Was I out for long?”

“Finally, he woke up. Come on.”


Thum-Bael mumbled something under his breath as he pulled Rodi up to his feet. Ignoring the dent in the wall, Rodi did not seem in too poor of a shape. It looks like his armor protected him well enough from the impact. Unless there is some internal bleeding going on, it looks like he got out of it easily. He’ll still have to get it checked out later, but for now it can wait.

“What about the Boellian?” Rodi asked while holding his head. “I assume he got away?”

“Yeah. He did. We were all knocked out for at least half an hour. I’ve managed to establish contact with BASE, and it seems that the reinforcements that went after the weird, masked guy didn’t succeed either.”

“What, he evaded all of them?”


Alwin paused for a moment, visibly uncomfortable.

“No.” he answered. “He killed all of them. BASE reports that they sent another patrol after communications were lost. Our boys put up a fight… but they were not equipped to fight a psionic either.”

“We’re in deep shit if the insurgency is going to employ psionics. What did BASE say they’re going to do about this?”
Thum-Bael asks.

Alwin shrugs.

“BASE has already informed the Admiral. They’re already consulting the Council on what to do next. For now, we’ve been instructed to report back to HQ for debrief.”

“Debrief?”
Thum-Bael asked again, sighing loudly. “We’re not getting leave this time either.” Thum-Bael started swearing, much to Rodi’s annoyance.

“Enough. Pick up your weapons and let’s head back to HQ. By now curfew is probably over—”

A large explosion shocked the ground, sending dust and debris scattering in all directions. Looking up to the sky, the plume of the explosion was slowly taking shape. After a few more moments, several more explosions went off, bringing about a deafening sound. Alwin and Thum-Bael instinctively shielded their helmet visors while it adapted to the light.

Inside of their helmets, an emergency broadcast from BASE started playing on repeat.

‘Alert. Code Black. Code Black. Code Black. Planetary assault in progress.’

Rodi tapped the two on their shoulders and rushed forward, picking up his weapon on the way. He motioned forward repeatedly as he sprinted down the alleyway.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! We need to get to our defensive positions, stat!”

“What in the hells is BASE doing. How have we had no intel of the planetary assault amassing in orbit?!”
Thum-Bael huffed and puffed as he tried to keep up with Rodi.

“No point worrying about this. Look!” Alwyn interjected as he started pointing towards the sky while running.

Drop pods, as far as the eye could see, started littering the sky. A sizeable Boellian force was descending to Oslen at full speed. By the size of the drop pods, Rodi estimated that each of them could hold up to eight soldiers.

Another round of explosions rang out as the defense batteries surrounding Stavanger activated and started firing at the pods.

Everything was quickly descending into chaos. As the trio made their way back onto the main street, they could see the civilians running for shelter. Makeshift bunkers in basements were pretty common, and all households were given enough supplies to hold out for weeks under siege.

On the rooftops, members of the peacekeeping force were deploying mobile anti-air weapons. Laser cannons, Gauss batteries, as well as rudimentary lasguns. Each knocked out drop pod meant eight less Boellians to deal with. One of those men noticed Lt. Tieberg and his men and waved him over before motioning him to continue towards the HQ at the end of the main road.

Rodi tapped his helmet once in acknowledgement and then directed his men towards the facility…

Peacekeeping forces are quickly starting to be stretched thin. It was their missive to prioritize the safety of the civilians, and thus they were busy with directing them to safehouses and scouring the streets for anyone who may be unable to get to safety. On the other hand, a sizeable chunk of their forces was engaging the assault force in low orbit; some resistance elements were also activated around the city.

Inside the facility, Brigadier General Faust and his underlings were coordinating the deployment of the planetary defense. As Lieutenant Tieberg and his party approached the entrance to their chambers, they could already hear Brigadier General Faust raging at the top of his lungs.

What do you mean BASE was unable to detect their cloaked ships?! Are your engineers so sorely incompetent?!”

Rodi grimaced slightly towards Alwin; he really did not want to be here. Brigadier General Faust generally had a short temper and was a fervent believer of the Council’s authority. To him, this was a higher calling. Serving the Council for the betterment of the Galaxy. Obviously, not all soldiers shared his feelings; to most of them, this was a job like any other. Some of them were recruited from their nation’s respective military forces. Some of them are ex-special forces who were relieved of their duties for one reason or another. In short, the forces of the Council mainly consist of mercenaries.

Although do not be mistaken. While they may be mercenaries in the technical sense of the word, they are kept on a very tight leash by the Council. All of them are vetted, capable soldiers. With no galactic wide wars having spread through the Galaxy for the past few decades, the Council could weave a competent force meant for peacekeeping and interventionist purposes; a force that was sponsored by some of the largest nations in the galaxy, including the Imperium.

Brigadier General Faust noticed Rodi and his mean enter and beckoned them over while he continued to shout obscenities towards the communications officer on the BASE side. Eventually, he ended the call, hurling his holoterminal across the room, crushing it to bits.

“Idiots!” he roared one last time, before the room descended into silence.

Tension in the air was palpable. Outnumbered, potentially out gunned and blindsided due to the incompetence displayed by BASE. Reinforcements would come, but it would take time. They would first have to survive long enough.

“Lieutenant Tieberg, I am aware of the presence of psionics on the planet from BASE. If we are to hold this city, and by extension, this planet, we will need to neutralize them.” He explained.

By his side, an adjutant pressed a few buttons on the table, activating a holographic map of the city; he then spoke:

“After the two engagements with the psionics, we’ve been unable to track them down once again. I have reviewed footage, as well as the logs from our planetary tracking systems. We can see the ‘Boellian’, but we cannot see the other one.”

“So what, he’s invisible to planetary tracking?”
Thum-Bael asked from the side.

Nodding, the adjutant explained.

“I believe there are two options. One, he is in possession of a jamming device. If he is part of the Boellian resistance, it would not be impossible for an enemy of the Dannian state to have delivered them some tracking jammers for special operations.”

“And the second option?”
Rodi asked.

“Respectfully, if it’s the second option, we’re in a lot of trouble. We have had similar incidents across the Boellian worlds, as well as planets in the Vissari territories.” The adjutant frowned. “Council believes that there are rogue psionic elements stirring up trouble. To what end, it is unclear.”

“Rogue psionics?”
Alwin asked.

Brigadier General Faust crossed his arms while waving his hand at the holographic display, bringing about several pieces of footage.

Footage from planets such as KE-571, Horizon, Kellper and Kalealise.

“As you can see, someone has been on the hunt for psionic artifacts. Not too long ago, the Order of Psion reports that it has been engaged by an unknown psionic in Kalealise while they were retrieving a classified psionic artifact. Similarly, two Executors from the Order of Ecclesia were ambushed on Kellper.”

“Ambushing Ecclesians… fools had a death wish.”
Alwin muttered under his breath.

“I’m not sure I follow, sir. Maybe my brain has been scrambled by the whole encounter, but I’m not understanding what you’re getting at.” Rodi complained as he took off his helmet, setting it aside on one of the tables in the room.

“We’ve received information from the Council, a few weeks prior, that there may be a psionic artifact on one of the Boellian worlds. Until recently, they did not know where it is.”

The adjutant explained.

“What, so we’re the ones drawing the short straw? You’re telling me the artifact is here? On Oslen of all places?” Thum-Bael asked, visibly exasperated. “Those… psionic cultists, whatever they are, are using the Boellians to create a diversion?”

“It would seem so.”
Faust sighed in confirmation. "You're the only team that I can spare for this. I want that artifact before they get their hands on it."

Rodi tugged at his collar; it seemed to be sitting on rather too tightly as of late.

“Respectfully. We are ill equipped to battle psionics. Weapons aside, we have no knowledge of their strength. That one Boellian alone almost wasted my entire team, and if you recall, the other one wasted a whole squad.”

“Yeah.”
Thum-Bael pressed on from the side. “We were sent here on a peacekeeping mission, not a 'fight crazy shroud cultists with space magic' mission.”

Alwin frowned at Thum-Bael from the side, somewhat speechless.

Brigadier General Faust approached Thum-Bael, slapping his shoulders a few times with a loud thud. Thum-Bael grunted, a loud smack with each slap of his shoulders.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one, soldier!” Faust shouted. “You’re now on a fight to defend Oslen from crazy space wizards!” he pressed on. “And if I hear another complaint from you, not only will I have you court martialed, but I will also make sure that you do not receive any pay for this deployment.”

Thum-Bael stood there, nodding silently.

“I told you your stupid mouth is going to get us in trouble.” Alwin muttered under his breath.

“Now then, since we’re all on the same page…” Faust turned towards Lieutenant Tieberg. “I believe you are going to be hunting for a psionic artifact.”

Rodi nodded once, staring blankly past the Brigadier General, directly into Thum-Bael’s very soul, causing him to shudder for a moment.

“We’re at your command, Brigadier-General.”
 
First of all: Anastasia, what a wonderful number of chapters about her! Really gripping and tense! Loved it!

Second: Stavanger? A medium sized city in little Norway became a major city on a whole planet? Intriguing. :)
 
Rodi Tieberg: Ch. III
“I protest, my dear Empress! The Grand Executor of the Order of Ecclesia cannot have a human apprentice! This is an affront to the Imperium! I will not stand for it!"

Archduke Eleg Valesky



Rodi Tieberg
United Galactic Peacekeeping Mission
8167 Battalion, Infantry
Old Ruins, Stavanger, Oslen

“Can you believe that this thing even exists?” Alwin asked, as he scanned the rock formations before them.

A day has passed since the siege of Oslen by the Boellian forces had begun. After being resupplied and given new weapons, Lieutenant Tieberg and his two men were quickly transported to the believed location of the psionic relic.

Deep inside the city of Stavanger, a secure complex lay hidden by the slums and the destroyed buildings from the old Coalition War. Rodi and his men have patrolled around this area before, but really thought nothing of it. Ruins and slums that were built over or left behind? It was extremely common, especially in the Dannian Confederacy; not something out of the ordinary.

After unlocking the complex with the keys they received from Brigadier General Faust, the trio travelled down a flight of stairs for what seemed to have been around half an hour. At the end of the stairs lay a door, and past the door, a dark corridor. Scanning it would reveal that everything appears to be made of a mixture of neutronium and dark energy. Somehow, the neutronium was imbued with dark energy; it was reminiscent of hard-light materials used by the Imperium, yet different.

“Of course it had to be some ancient Enigmatic Technology wizardry.” Thum-Bael muttered under his breath as Alwin read the scan reports.

“Only way is forward. Keep moving, be alert. Make sure there’s no traps.” Rodi explained while motioning the two men to move forward with him.

It was a large corridor, all things considered. All three of them were walking side by side, and there was still some room to spare. Considering their chunky armor, it could probably fit around five, maybe six average sized humanoids in width.

After an uneventful and uninteresting walk forward, another door appeared, with a terminal by the side.

“Is this it?” Rodi asked, looking at Alwin.

Alwin tapped the terminal a few times, inserting the second set of keys received from the Brigadier General. A loud crack was audible in the background, as stagnant motors kicked into gear after many years of disuse. Eventually, the door opened, creaking loudly.

“Well that isn’t unnerving at all.” Alwin joked as the light from inside the room filled the corridor behind them. Flicking the light of his weapon off as he stepped in, the room seemed to expand in all directions.

Inside, a large box stood in the middle of the room, with a single panel in front of it.

“Is that it?” Thum-Bael asked as they all approached carefully.

It was a box made of transparent material, potentially duraglass or something similar. By the side, a door, no doubt actioned by the terminal.

“I think so.” Rodi replied, lowering his weapon; he’d leave it hanging by the shoulder strap.

Inside the box was a single pedestal, holding a large blue crystal.

“A psionic archive?” Alwin asked from the side.

Both Rodi and Thum-Bael turned towards him, looking at him as if waiting for him to expand on that information.

Alwin awkwardly cleared his throat before explaining.

“I’ve heard about these. Psionic archives are crystals made from Zro. Most of them contain the essence of ancient psionics, or all sorts of archived information from different psionic empires.”

“What is a Psionic archive doing here? On Oslen, out of all places? What do Dannians have to do with psionics?”
Thum-Bael asked, to which Alwin merely shrugged his shoulders.

“No point worrying about this now.” Rodi chimed in while approaching the terminal. Its controls could no longer be made sense of. Whatever was in that box had been in there for so long that the displays were unreadable. “Our orders are to retrieve the artifact and then return to HQ for its extraction.”

“Respectfully, Lieutenant. I do think we need to worry, considering there’s a full on planetary invasion with the sole purpose of retrieving this artifact.”
Thum-Bael protested, visibly frustrated that neither Rodi nor Alwin could see the severity of their situation such as him.

“Invasion is a diversion, technically.” Alwin muttered under his breath, leading to Thum-Bael knocking him in the shoulder with the butt of his rifle; much to Alwin’s amusement.

“Enough… Alwin, come here. I cannot read the controls.” Rodi motioned him over.

“Let’s see… Terminal appears to be severely damaged, let me try hacking into it.” As he set himself to work.

However, much to Alwin’s annoyance, he could do nothing to activate the device.

“It’s a bust. We’ll need to crack that door open.” He explained. “But I’m concerned about the facility locking down.”

“We don’t exactly have another option…”
Rodi muttered under his breath before pressing a few buttons on his bracer.

“STAVANGER-ONE to STAVANGER-ACTUAL, come in.”

“STAVANGER-ACTUAL copies. Go for.
” It was the Brigadier General’s voice.

“We’ve run into a problem. We cannot activate the terminal before the artifact. How do you copy?” Rodi explained as Alwin and Thum-Bael gathered by his side.

“STAVANGER-ACTUAL copies. Can you blow it open?”

Rodi clicked his tongue while Alwin reached into Thum-Bael’s backpack for the explosive device; the two then kneeled before the entrance to the box.

“STAVANGER-ONE. We can, but we don’t know how the facility will react. Please advise.”

A brief pause.

“STAVANGER-ACTUAL advises you use the explosive device we’ve given you. According to intelligence, the automated defenses no longer function. Only the access control. You should be fine.”

Rodi furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Should?” he asked. “What sort of answer is that?!”

“STAVANGER-ONE, make haste. The situation above ground is getting worse. Our positions are being contested as we speak. We’ll not be able to extract you if you take too long. STAVANGER-ACTUAL out.”

“If we ever make it alive…”
Thum-Bael said from the side. “May the Great Spirit be my witness, I will shove my boot up the Brigadier General’s backside so hard it'll come out his mouth, even if it lands me in martial court.”

Rodi turned towards Thum-Bael and pointed his finger at him. Thum-Bael shuddered, refocusing his attention upon the explosive charge.

“You think it’ll blow a hole in it, Alwin?” Rodi asked while Alwin took a few steps away from Thum-Bael and the door.

“It should. It’s laced with dark energy.” He replied, before sighing. “You know… Lieutenant… I think that they knew about this artifact being here all along.”

“I know. I think so too. Forces here have always been larger than on the other Dannian worlds, even before the Boellian revolt erupted. Probably making sure they could respond to anyone threatening this… thing.”


A short while later, Thum-Bael turned towards the two and gave them a thumbs up. Charges were now planted, and it was time to blow open the door.

“Your charges, you can have the honor.” Rodi explained, while motioning Thum-Bael to trigger the explosion.

With a loud whistle, the charge set off, melting through the door, and collapsing it. If anything, it was sort of anticlimactic; much to Thum-Bael’s and Alwin’s disappointments.

Stepping through the door, Rodi could feel the air becoming heavier. A lingering, throbbing pain clawed away at his head the longer he stared at the crystal. With a single swipe, he grabbed the artifact and deftly placed it inside a pouch on his belt.

“Is this it, then?” Thum-Bael asked. “I kind of expected something else, you know?”

Rodi stared at him in disbelief before waving him off.

“STAVANGER-ONE to STAVANGER-ACTUAL. Target is secured. Heading out to the rendezvous point.”

A few moments of pause.

Rodi and Alwin stared at each other, as the response did not come back.

“STAVANGER-ONE to STAVANGER-ACTUAL, do you copy?”

No response.

Thum-Bael meekly muttered under his breath.

“I jinxed it again, didn’t I?”

“STAVANGER-ONE to STAVANGER-ACTUAL, last time. Do you copy?”


For the third time, no response; Rodi terminated the communication channel, cursing loudly as he unstrapped his weapon and motioned towards the entrance.

“We’re going. Now.”

Breaking into a jog, the trio blitzed through the room and the long corridor. As they approached the stairs and started to climb, Alwin asked.

“What now? What do we do?”

“Assume we’re on our own.
” Rodi responded curtly.

Half an hour of stairs; this is what they now had to quickly get through. By the time they reached the top, they were a tired, heaving, sweaty mess. Thankfully, their suits filtered and disposed of the mess, keeping them as clean and comfortable as possible while scaling the stairway.

“We’re close!” Thum-Bael called out ahead of them, as he flung the door to the entrance open to a blinding light.

Rodi and Alwin quickly followed him, their weapons drawn; but the light blinded them too for a moment while their visors adjusted to the intensity.

“Hello.” It was an unknown voice. “You got out quicker than I expected.”

As the visors adjusted, the picture became clear. Thum-Bael and Alwin were both surrounded on each side by Boellians armed with plasma rifles. To the front, the Boellian psionic stood behind a masked figure. It was the same figure from the alleyway not too long ago.

Rodi cursed under his breath at their predicament, and slowly edged his hand towards his bracer, seeking to send out an emergency transmission.

In response, the masked figure clicked their tongue lightly before waving their finger at him.

“Nuh-uh-huh. I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He chided him as if talking to a child, before turning his right palm to face up.

Rodi felt his arm constricted, held in place by something invisible.

“It would be pointless, too. Look around, soldier.”

It was eerily silent. Rodi could no longer hear the bombardment and planetary anti air weapons. It was over. The siege ended, and given those who stood before him, it was clear who won.

“I’m sure you’ve clocked it by now, but your headquarters have fallen. Planet is now under Boellian control.” The masked figure explained. “Tell me, have you touched the crystal?”

Rodi remained silent.

“You have, haven’t you? I’m surprised your brain hasn’t been completely fried. Are you psionic, perchance? No… Psionic sensitivity, maybe, but you’re not a complete psionic. Well, it doesn’t really matter, honestly.”

Rodi remained silent, scanning his surroundings in desperation.

An entire Boellian platoon surrounded them. Enemies were also in the ruins surrounding them, ready to take him down should he make a poor decision. Both Thum-Bael and Alwin were disarmed and subdued by now; their hands restricted with magnetic cuffs.

“He doesn’t really seem to be talkative, Aardvark.” The masked figure turned towards the Boellian psionic for a moment.

The psionic shrugged briefly before raising his hand in Rodi’s direction.

Immediately, an invisible force compelled him to his knees, forcing him in place. He could no longer move at all; his armor creaked as the mechanical joints buckled trying to break free. After a short while, Rodi gave up lest he break the suit and immobilize himself.

“More like it.” The masked man said as he approached Rodi. Circling him once, twice, he placed his hand on his helmet before splitting it apart.

An immense sense of dread overcame Rodi as he was exposed to the planet’s atmosphere. It was much too warm for his liking, sure, but his helmet was cracked open. He was facing a psionic, but this was a duroceramic environmental suit for crying out loud; it was some of the best equipment money could buy a soldier; and it was broken through a simple touch, just like that.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” The masked man said. “Normally, I would do you the courtesy of showing you my face, but I am horribly disfigured, you see. I am…” he sighs “pretty conscious about it.”

He circled him again, before kneeling to Rodi’s level.

“May I kindly ask you for the archive?”

Rodi paused for a moment, before looking at his two men.

“Don’t give it to him!” Thum-Bael shouted, prompting one of the Boellians to hit him in the head with the butt of their weapon.

As Thum-Bael loudly guffawed from the hit, the Boellians surrounding him piled on top, battering him with their weapons, using them as blunt weapons rather than the rifles they are, shouting what was undoubtedly profanities that Rodi could no longer understand.

“It’s in my belt. Third pouch.” Rodi complied with a loud sigh.

The masked man patted him lightly on the shoulder before reaching for the pouch. With a few quick movements, he removed the archive, raising it towards the dim sun and staring at it.

“Mhm…” he exhaled loudly as he gripped the crystal tightly in his hand, pausing for a few moments. Psionic energies coalesced around him.

After what felt like an eternity to Rodi, the masked man turned his gaze towards him once again.

“You have my thanks, Lieutenant Tieberg. I believe the Galaxy shall thank you for your service.”

With the twist of his heels, he approached the psionic Boellian, Aardvark and nodded to him.

“I believe that this concludes the end of our partnership, my dear. Please remember the offer I have extended you.”

“What about those three?”
he asked.

“What about them, indeed…” he pondered, turning towards them. Tilting his head lightly, he gave out an order.

“Kill them.”

Lieutenant Rodi Tieberg’s lifeless body collapsed; the plasma blasts and the thud of three bodies hitting against the floor rang out in the background of deafening Boellian war cries.
 
  • 1
Reactions:
First of all: Anastasia, what a wonderful number of chapters about her! Really gripping and tense! Loved it!

Second: Stavanger? A medium sized city in little Norway became a major city on a whole planet? Intriguing. :)
We love our random city references.

So having wrapped this up, I'm probably going to start moving on the main chapters. I did have one more short story, but I'm not quite happy with how it came out so I'll think about whether I want to post it or not (or rewrite bits of it). I'll take a few days breaks until then, though.
 
Interlude: Lorkan
00026-4079399543.png


Salzenmund. A colony located deep inside the southern half of the galaxy, a former world of the Human Empire and the capital of its southernmost sector.

With the defeat of the Human Empire at the hands of the Galactic Coalition, elements on the planet moved quickly to declare their own government, in opposition to the Empire and the ruin that it has wrought upon the Galaxy.

Ishilina Pickler, the former planetary Governor, personally appointed by the Duke of Arauth, seized control of the local institutions and inspired the colonists to revolt against the Empire garrison, destroying several key facilities to the war effort. As the Empire forces retreated from the system, her popularity and her deeds saw her elevated as the new Princess of Salzenmund.

Consequently, she sought out the Galactic Coalition and pledged to assist them in defeating the tyrannical empire, going as far as delivering databanks containing schematics to human weapon systems that would prove useful in countering their fleets. And so, with the favor of the Galactic Coalition, and later the Galactic Council, Salzenmund retained its independence and the fledgling state of the ‘Great Duchy of Salzenmund’ appeared on the galactic maps.

Salzenmund saw its population skyrocket as it took in millions of human refugees, leading to the colonization of several near-by planets to not burden the planet of Salzenmund itself, much to the Council’s chagrin. A new question appeared. Should the Council allow the birth of a strong Human state once again? Fresh off the destruction of the Coalition War, the answer was a resounding no.

While the Great Duchy of Salzenmund continued to exist, control of its territories was, de facto, split. Peacekeeping forces were deployed on all duchy planets to ensure the pacification of the human species and to make sure that no future galactic conflicts would arise because of revanchism.

Salzenmund’s small navy was disbanded, and the duchy is now entirely reliant on the Council for protection; and unfortunately, the Council is not willing to deploy enough resources to secure the duchy’s trade routes. Piracy is rampant in the Great Duchy with merchant ships refusing to travel through their territory unless necessary. Richer merchant conglomerations can afford escorts, but smaller merchants? It was not a realistic choice.

And so, what was once a Great Duchy dwindled. It dwindled, and dwindled, as it slowly became a shadow of itself. Its people migrated to other corners of the galaxy, seeking new opportunities and a better life for themselves; other people, non-humans, mostly, replaced them as part of an initiative by the Galactic Council to dilute the population of the Great Duchy.

Was this the result of their sacrifice? Was Grand Duchess Pickler mistaken in siding with the Coalition against the Human Empire? Fighting against their own species, killing and being killed by their own brethren, so that they may be displaced, defanged… humiliated by the other races? It was a question asked by many civilians and soldiers alike on Salzenmund.

In their eyes, it was injustice. In the eyes of the galactic community, it was justice; a precaution, if you will, that a new Human Empire would not rise once again to threaten the rest of the galaxy. It was an attempt at integrating humans among other species; in the Empire, the supremacy of humanity was evident. Half-humans were shunned, and any non-human species was effectively a second-class citizen. In such a society, how could humans learn to integrate themselves among the other species? They couldn’t; this was the conclusion of the Council.

Evidently, not everyone supported this decision, but in time, the Council’s approach proved effective at pacifying most of the loyalists. Those who could not be pacified, those who fell into revanchist and religious frenzy, secretly conspired to install a new government on Salzenmund. Supported financially by foreign governments who sought to weaken the hold of the Council on the galaxy, criminal organizations blossomed in the unpatrolled systems; and on certain worlds, cults, heretics began to gather and worship the four major Shroud Gods.

Worship of those entities was forbidden by the Galactic Council, and with good cause too, and thus the persecuted fled where they would not be seen; and they bid their time, waiting for the opportune moment. As the disillusioned members of the three major psionic orders left or were expelled, some of them scattered throughout the Galaxy, while others sought out their own justice.

Lorkan the Cursed, one of the strongest psionics of the Order of Kalealise was found to be a worshipper of the Eater of Worlds and was excommunicated sometime in the last hundred years. Not many know what happened to him; some believe he is dead, some believe that he is imprisoned under the surface of Salo Helise. No, he has been raising forces deep inside the territory of the Grand Duchy in the name of his God.

Agents of the Grand Duchess discovered the existence of this cult early on, but did not have enough information nor power to do anything against them. Using the Shroud, Lorkan travelled all over the nearby systems, looting and raiding as he pleased, gathering captives and prisoners for an unknown purpose. Grand Duchess Pickler pleaded for the Council to intervene, going as far as notifying the Order of Kalealise behind their back to spur them into action… but is it too late?



Unknown
Cult of the Eater
Salzenmund


Somewhere on the surface of Salzenmund, deep within its mountainous regions and far removed from the cities of the Great Duchess, Lorkan, an excommunicated Kalealisean psionic, was plotting the descent of the Eater of the Worlds’s armies upon the galaxy. Him, and his legion of men and women was fast at work. Preparations for the ritual were almost complete. Soon, this entire world would be engulfed by the Shroud.

“Preparations are complete, Archpriest.” A voice spoke out. It was a young human man, no older than his twenties. A simple servant that the legion picked up on a previous raid on the Duchy’s worlds.

Lorkan stood from his throne, towering above the human at a height of over nine feet tall. Even by Taufean standards, Lorkan was gigantic. A hulking mass of muscle and iron; clad in an ancient armor forged with hard-light materials and infused by the Shroud itself. It bore resemblance to the armor worn by the Praetorians of the Imperium and the higher echelons of the Order of Ecclesia; but it was far more crude… far more feral. It did not bear any of the intricacies of the Mirati armor. It was a purely practical interpretation.

Each step he took echoed a loud thud, no doubt from the weight of the armor itself. With each step, the servant shook, staring in fear at the ground beneath him. Surely, he did not anger his master; he was merely bringing news from the Priests below. Lorkan stepped past him, and he exhaled in relief, turning around and following his master in tow.

Every passing moment in this fortress was a terrible strain upon his psyche. Its air was thick with blood and other unpleasant odors. As they exited into the main hall, the sound of clinking metal was uncomfortable. Metal floors, metal walls; everything was oxidized, stained and even calcified. The floor was wet, a dark, crimson liquid permeated the surface and oozed from the cells connected to this hall.

‘The priests have butchered thousands for this.’ He thought to himself. Sacrifices were commonplace, and he had lived the most of out all the latest batch of captives; this was his third week inside the fortress. But, whatever was going on now felt different. Was it just the scale of the sacrifices? Was it the intensity with which Lorkan’s legion carried out the latest raids? He could not tell, nor did he want to think about it.

Exiting the main hall and making their way into the Sanctum below, the sound of metal was now being steadily deafened by the endemic growl of engines; shield generators, waste-recyclers, the weapon forges beneath the fortress hard at work creating new dark armaments; that was where the bulk of the captives could be found… creating new weapons for Lorkan and his legion. Horrible noises mixed with the infernal sound of the machinery; cries, moans, the sound of cracking bone and the tear of the flesh; he was still not used to the horrors beneath. No man could get used to these horrors.

Eventually they reached the Sanctum. As usual, it was guarded by two of Lorkans warriors; tall, massive monstrosities clad in similar armor to him; veterans of Lorkans campaigns and undoubtedly favorites of the cursed Shroud gods they followed. He met one of their gazes by accident, causing the warrior to emit a deep, guttural growl as the dimly lit glass eyes stared lifelessly at him.

“Forgive me, milord—” the human servant cried out as he averted his gaze, staring at the wet floor once more.

“Silence.” Lorkan bellowed, causing the man to raise his arms and cover his head; his legs buckling, almost falling to his knees.

He could not see Lorkan’s reaction, but his shadow turned away from him, undoubtedly disgusted by the subservience and weakness displayed by him.

He could hear Lorkan say something out to the guards. It was not a language that he knew initially, but there were some words that he could make out after those few weeks in the fortress. “Sacrifice”. “The Eater.”

The Eater.

‘Of course…’ he thought to himself. He had seen the signs, but he refused to believe them. This fortress, this nightmare, was not merely the home of Lorkan and his legion of cursed monsters, but a ritual site for the Eater of Worlds, one of the Shroud Gods.

‘Deep inside Salzenmund… of all places.’ he thought to himself. It was unbelievable that they were undetectable to the local garrison. How could they not detect movements on the scale necessary to carry out the raids. Unless they did not carry them out conventionally. He does not recall ever being loaded on a ship. He does not recall ever seeing any ship under the command of Lorkan.

One day, they appeared. They seized control of the main cities on Drakenhof and then proceeded to overwhelm the rest of the planetary defense forces. Hundreds of thousands butchered in the bombing of the city of Kurtz… thousands more in the wanton slaughter following it.

Has the Council and the Galaxy forsaken them so?

His thoughts slowed down to a halt as the vile smells of the Sanctum assaulted him. He retched, forcing his mouth to be closed with his hands as Lorkan dragged him along by the hair deep inside the Sanctum; his metallic claws cut deep into his skin, droplets of blood staining the floor.

Great statues of the Eater were spread out in the hall; two statues on each side, and a single altar at the center of the room. Grotesque remains littered the ground surrounding the statutes. This was the sacrifice; the tribute that Lorkan and his legion brought to the Eater.

His head began to hurt; a sense of oppression and dread overcoming him as he etched closer to the altar. He began hyperventilating, his screams escaping his throat uncontrollably. He could sense their eyes upon him. The priests of Lorkan were chanting foreign, cursed words as the reality around them began to distort. He could feel the psionic energies whirling, slowly taking shape. He had never seen such specters before; they were circling the top of the altar in support of the ceremony.

He could feel his life being drained from him as he was immobilized upon the altar. Lorkan stood before him, a single priest by his side. The priest was carrying a jet-black box, laying it before Lorkan. As the priest and Lorkan exchanged words, the human tried to channel his psionic powers… but to no avail. He was tired. He no longer wished to resist. His eyes slowly closed as Lorkan towered over him for one last time.



Salzenmund City was awaiting the first Council delegation since the official recognition of the Great Duchy of Salzenmund, almost a hundred years since the end of the Coalition War. Preparations were well underway to receive the diplomats and their military detail.

Duke Remus Pickler, the son and heir of the Grand Duchess had been making regular public appearances for the past few years. It had become evident that the time for him to take over the Great Duchy was approaching quickly. Ishilina was old, and her age no longer allowed her to effectively administrate the Great Duchy, and with the latest piracy struggles, perhaps a new direction was needed.

Someone who could better cooperate with the Galactic Council. Someone like Duke Remus. He’d presented his goals and wishes to the public before. He wished to tighten the cooperation between the Great Duchy and the Council; to create new trade agreements with their neighbors and to resolve the matter of the Duchy’s navy. He believed that he could convince the Council to repeal the law on the rearmament of the Grand Duchy and install their own patrols.

Of course, the most pressing matter was that of the pirate attacks. Almost a month ago, the Duchess’s office reported that a pirate raid was carried out on Drakenhof. Sadly, some lives were lost, the garrison had lost half of its combat effectiveness, but the pirates were ultimately repelled. Unfortunately, the raid itself destroyed the civilian communication network, and people could no longer contact their families on Drakenhof.

Unfortunate, but it has happened before. Travel had to be shut down for safety, the Duchess said… but she assured her people that communication and travel will be back to normal by the end of the year.

If only they knew the truth.



By now, the delegation had arrived on the planet. People from all over the city wished to see the diplomats; the faces of their supposed saviors. It was finally time for the Great Duchy to be brought back to the fold of the Galaxy. As the diplomats made their way off their vessels they were greeted with rapturous applause.

Ana, a clerk in Salzenmund City, was also attending the event with her brother, Markus. Both were natives, born and raised on Salzenmund, in Salzenmund City. Neither of them had ever seen the rest of the galaxy. It was too complicated, and quite frankly, expensive, to leave the Great Duchy.

“So, these are the diplomats?” Markus asked his sister, as he tried to stand on his toes to catch a better glimpse as the Council delegation.

“I don’t know, Markus! I can’t see! I think so, though.” She answered. “Look, everyone is applauding them. Everyone seems happy about it! It must be them.”

Markus paused for a second before placing his hands on her waist, lifting her up to give her a better view of them.

Ana could see the diplomats waving back at the masses before entering the shuttle. As they did so, she could see a few soldiers coming down from their ship.

‘Probably their military detail.’ She thought to herself.

But, after those soldiers exited their vessel, another group did too. And another one. And another one…

“Strange. A lot of soldiers have come with them, Markus.” Ana explained, somewhat confused by the size of their apparent military detail.

“Maybe they’re some big shots!” Markus replied.

They could be… but why send such big shots to a far-flung world like Salzenmund? It was weird, but Ana pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind; today was a day to celebrate.



As the blood of the human servant trickled down the altar, the ground began to shake violently; a raging whirlwind of psionic energy began to form, surrounding Lorkan. As the time surrounding him began to dilate to the edge of what his brain could comprehend; as the world itself had somehow stopped in its rotation, everything surrounding him was brought to a sudden halt.

Lorkan looked around to see that the color of the world itself had faded… the dim, red light of the Sanctum reduced to a rusty haze, and the priests surrounding the altar frozen in place; a bunch of statutes worshipping the Eater of the World himself. A single floating purple light stood before Lorkan as his breath strained. The sweat beads on his face turned to ice; he felt exhausted, as if he had run for days on end. Lorkan collapsed to his knees, his arms stretched out to their utmost towards the light; his eyes shining with zealous fervor.

Lorkan looked through the floating light, and something looked back at him. It was not a face, for a face could be described, it had a shape. Whatever it was, it was beyond the realm of comprehension, dimensions that the mind could not compute. He could hear a voice call out to him. It was not a voice, but a thought. It spoke to him, but at the same time, it did not. It was something well beyond the realm of reality as Lorkan understood it; it was something that could only be described as godly.

His mind was assaulted by an unrelenting barrage of thoughts. Thoughts of varying lengths echoed out in his brain at the same time, causing Lorkan to bellow in pain under the sheer psionic strain of this merging of thoughts.

“Destroy.” “Kill.” “Conquer.” “Salzenmund.” “Destroy.” “Salzenmund.” “Salzenmund.” “Salzenmund.”

A brief pause, before the thoughts flew into him once again. Lorkan gasped for air in this respite offered by his master.

“Anathema.” “Kill.” “Kryzorwyn.” “Mirati.” “Miresh Marr.”

Lorkan was suspended in the air, held in place by powers he could not comprehend.

“Kill.”

Psionic energies began to flow into Lorkan, causing his body to deform violently. Bones and muscle cracked and tore as his body grew even larger in size; his armor rearranged by the powers of the Eater as he sculpted his new champion. Lorkan released a deafening, primal roar as the reconstruction of his body ended and time began to move once again. His priests continued to chant the prophetic hymns of the Eater of Worlds as Lorkan gathered the surrounding psionic energy at his fingerprints as if controlled by a higher being.

The metal in the Sanctum cracked and clinked, the corroded rust melting under the heat of the energies wielded by the Taufean Archpriest. His body contorted unnaturally as he could barely contain the endless powers; he leaned forward, dispersing the energy to his priests. As he transformed, they too would transform.

A path between the universe and the Shroud was torn open. Psionics across the Galaxy could feel the dread and oppression of the Shroud God clawing away at their psyches; it called out to them; it drew on their darkest impulses and sent the weak into a manic rage.

Virulent energy storms formed throughout the galaxy, disrupting faster than light travel in the southern galaxy and completely halting hyperlane travel in some systems. Onboard computers were fried, ships floated aimlessly through the void until assistance would arrive. For some unlucky souls, it never would. They would die in their cages of neutronium and durasteel.

A psionic beacon formed over Salzenmund. Psionic energy seeped into the planet’s atmosphere, dark and thick, forming impenetrable clouds over the planetary surface. Any ships flying in the atmosphere crashed into the surface as their computers were overwhelmed by the phenomena.

Ships poured out of the psionic beacon; the hundreds, if not thousands, of them cast a dark shadow over the planet as they assembled before their conquest. Warriors of the Eater of Worlds sallied forth, quickly overwhelming the coalition forces stationed in the system; the dark veil of the shroud cast an impenetrable fog over Salzenmund and the nearby systems, making it impossible for sensors to operate properly. Those troops did not see them coming until it was too late; their strikecrafts did not even get to leave the spaceport.



After Salzenmund fell, the fleet spread out quickly, employing blitzkrieg tactics. To the north, the Arenian Foundation quickly found its southern outposts torched by Lorkan’s men; to the east, the Holy Behfrang Foundation, the homeland of the Grand Psion Turgal of the Psionic Order saw the system Riephwar fall first. One of its largest worlds, Hala, was taken quickly, before the sparse Behrfrangi fleets could even muster a defence. By the time they reached Riephwar, it was already under the Cult’s control.

After Riephwar, the systems of Nyeos, Thetu, Ethreniel and Nacsybara followed suit. Cut off from the Galactic Gateway Network, the Holy Behrfrang Foundation was now on its own. Reinforcements from the Coalition would take months, if not even years to arrive… time it did not have.

With their territories fragmented and assaulted by hordes of necroid monsters and supercharged psionic fanatics, pockets of resistance formed on the remaining Behfrang worlds. It’s greatest resistance, led by Planetary-Governor Millu Ashnar would focus around the capital world of Na-Swe-Shuk, inside the Sne-Oms-Sthing system.

A counterattack was ordered, but it was to no avail. Each engagement would end in either stalemate or defeat, and for the diminishing military capabilities of the Behfrang, a stalemate would be equivalent to a loss. Lorkan’s attack dogs had seized or destroyed most of the shipyards in their territories; they could not replace spaceships; they could not even replace strikecraft.

By the end of the week, the entire Behrfrang navy was reduced to a mere handful of Destroyers and Cruisers; its combat force was entirely diminished and ineffective. Meanwhile, Lorkan and the Cult repurposed the Behrfrang engines of war. Their shipyards and manufactories were filled with thralls and enchanted monstrosities as they churned out more weapons and ships for the Eater of Worlds.

By the end of the second week, Na-Swe-Shuk would be under siege; its fate unknown.
 
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So, in the end I decided to post the "short-story"; however I have compressed it and cut some bits and bobs to make it a bit more of an interlude chapter. I'll be taking like a week break before starting the "main" chapters; and I'll be returning to focus on our favorite problem psionic and see what she's been up to with Idrithrel. :)
 
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I feel bad for Rodi. Dealing with psionics as a normal is never fun. Will he and his squadmates at least get bonuses for this mission? Apparently not... RIP Rodi. Will their families be compensated, at least?

What can psionic archives do? Can the ones that have the essence of ancient psionics increase the amount of power a psionic can call on? Are there any archives that contain lessons on techniques - possibly techniques that were forgotten before they were discovered?

Why didn't other planets do what Salzenmund did in an effort to preserve human independence?

Four Shroud Gods? Which Shroud-Being's excluded from that list? The End of the Cycle?
 
I feel bad for Rodi. Dealing with psionics as a normal is never fun. Will he and his squadmates at least get bonuses for this mission? Apparently not... RIP Rodi. Will their families be compensated, at least?
If the Council and the Confederacy don't just sweep this under the rug. Manpower is cheap, after all. I'm kidding, they would never do that...

What can psionic archives do? Can the ones that have the essence of ancient psionics increase the amount of power a psionic can call on? Are there any archives that contain lessons on techniques - possibly techniques that were forgotten before they were discovered?
I see them as a mix of the base Stellaris interpretation (contains essences of Psionics), and Star Wars holocrons. So they can contain lessons on techniques or the memories/knowledge of a strong psionic.

Why didn't other planets do what Salzenmund did in an effort to preserve human independence?
Some tried; but not every planet that attempted it was able to revolt successfully, most of them actually failing. Others were simply on board with the war, or were just too prideful/committed. Maybe it was the hubris of being the (previously) uncontested top dog?

But, in the end, did they really preserve human independence? And was that "independence" better than integration in other empires?

Four Shroud Gods? Which Shroud-Being's excluded from that list? The End of the Cycle?
Four major Shroud Gods; the key here being major.

At least in my vision of the story, the "major" is not reflective or their strength, but rather of their worship/knowledge.

The End of the Cycle is not a very well known Shroud Being/God; he may be known to some (like the Imperium and the Order of Psion), but the population at large wouldn't really know him, nor do I think he'd be interested in such psionic cults.

It is, after all, one of the (if not the) strongest Shroud Being.

But, as we all know, it was the Zroni who ended up creating those major "Gods". So who says someone else won't end up creating a new one?
 
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Act I: Ch. I
Idrithrel Grezeiros
Order of Ecclesia
Mireesh Marr



It’s been a few months since Plume brought over a young human girl for training. He’s trained her since a young age in the Order of Psion, but things ultimately did not work out. I was surprised to hear that Turgal, that treacherous Behrfrangi molluscoid signed off on me taking over her training, but he didn’t; not fully, at least.

Plume has not contacted me since. I am, truthfully, worried that Turgal punished him for taking the decision by himself, but there’s not much I could do without causing a major diplomatic incident; and the Empress would chew me out for it, former master or not.

Reports have come in from across the Galaxy. Rebellions in the Dannian Confederacy and the United Vissari Systems. A shroud infestation in the former Grand Duchy of Salzenmund and a war between the ravenous Katgans and the Behrfrangi. According to our intelligence, that bastard Lorkan has managed to open a psionic portal between Salzenmund and the Eater’s domain. Things are rapidly going out of control, but the members of the Galactic Council are busy fighting each other over petty trash and the Empress does not wish to override them. For now, they’re keeping information about the incursion under strict control.

A knock on the door.

“Come in.”

As the door spreads open, a young human girl enters the room. Her long platinum hair is tied in a bun, and her piercing violet eyes displayed an unwavering confidence. She wore a fitted pitch-black military uniform that accentuated her slender build. Her uniform was immaculate, the buttons polished to a shine, the fabric crisp and clearly expensive; her right shoulder adorned with a silver patch. It was the uniform worn by students in the Order of Ecclesia.

“Grand Executor.” Anastajia said flatly. “Archduke Eleg Valesky has requested your presence in the main chambers.”

“Eleg? What does that stiff bag of bones want?”
I asked, lowering the datapad in my hands. I make my way towards Anastajia and the entrance, placing my hand on her collar.

Anastajia frowned slightly as I adjusted her collar and placed my hand on her chin. Her eyes were brighter than usual.

“It’s related to the matter in Zubenelgenubi.” She answered, staring back at me. “If I understand correctly, the scientific colony has been overrun by void fiends.”

I sigh and nod, moving past her into the halls. I motioned her to follow me.

“Your eyes are burning brighter than usual. Is there any discomfort?”

Anastajia pauses for a moment before answering.

“I’ve been following your instructions… keeping my psionic energy under control, as much as possible.”

We turned past a security patrol; it has been increased since the Shroud incursion in Salzenmund. With the fabric between our universe and the Shroud now thinner, shroudwalking has become much more potent. Less skilled pupils, especially those with large innate psionic power, are like candy for the rowdy psionic entities. It’s not that it would spiral out of control, but a modicum of safety must be maintained not only for the students, but any dignitaries from the Imperium. My closeness to the Empress is already unpopular to the noble families, I don’t need to worry about one of their brats being killed under my roof.

“You’ve become more proficient at it.” I explain. “I can barely detect any fluctuations in your psionic energy now. Are you able to control your output at will?” I ask.

“So-so, master. I almost burnt another adept to a crisp a few days ago, by accident, but one of the Executors had deployed a psionic barrier to protect him.”

I pause for a moment, looking at Anastajia. She was staring at the ground this whole time, causing her to not notice and bump into my back.

“Sorry.” she says.

We’ve already crossed into the main chamber rooms by now. As the room widened in all directions, I could see Archduke Valesky waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a protection detail in tow. It’d seem they’re having a standoff with a pair of guards.

Placing my hand on Anastajia’s cheek, I lift her chin and smile.

You need to understand, my dear Anastajia, that this is the purpose of your training.” I explain as I move a few strands of hair away from her face. “You’ve been making great steady progress; I have no intention of chiding you for that.”

Anastajia nodded, her face reddening from a mixture of pride and embarrassment. It must have been a tough few months for her. A completely different environment, new rules, new faces. She must also be missing Plume, and just like me, she is unable to contact him. She’s not talked to me about her concerns yet so I will not press her. I will be here to talk to her if she wishes.

A single rugged voice calls out to me from below.

“Grand Executor Grezeiros!”

It was the Archduke.

He smiled in our direction and awaited my descent. I could see his gaze stiffen as he noticed the girl by my side.

He is the leader of the noble faction in the Imperium; a staunch conservative and a firm believer in a “Mirati first” policy. He’s never been in support of the Order of Ecclesia training and employing other species, going as far as denying any escorts or instructors that were not Mirati. Thankfully, the Empress does not share in his beliefs and has granted me full authority and autonomy in managing the Order, bar for herself. As a result, he’s been difficult to deal with at best, and outright seditious at worst.

Anastajia could feel the subtle changes in psionic flow surrounding the Archduke and frowned, waiting for my instructions. I nod to her and relieve her of her duties for now. She nodded to me before departing for one of the libraries.

“Archduke Valesky, to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?” I ask as I descend the stairs. The pair of guards who were blocking their way salute me before standing by my side.

From the outside, this might look like a standoff; was a fight going to break out? No.

I salute the guards in return, motioning them to be at ease.

Archduke Valesky audibly scoffed to regain my attention. I indulge.

“As I trust that your human pet carefully told you, I am here regarding the matter of our scientific outpost on Zubenelgenubi.” He spat out.

A human pet, he says. Charming. What a pathetic attempt at stirring me up.

“I see. I would certainly hope that a man of your stature could refrain from using such derogatory words towards the students of Ecclesia.” I smile back at him, much to his annoyance. “As you are aware, the Order is directly subordinated to the Empress. An insult to her subjects would be akin to insulting herself.”

One of the five men behind him reaches towards his hilt as he mutters something under his breath, prompting my guards to do the same.

Ildrodel Valesky, the son and heir of the Archduke; a pretentious little brat, but he is a capable psionic warrior. I saw him myself a few years ago when he graduated from his time at the academy.

“Oh.” I exclaim, looking at Ildrodel. “You must be Ildrodel, the son of the Archduke. I remember you. You used to be one of our pupils. I see you’re studying under your father now.”

Eleg motioned Ildrodel to move his hand away from the hilt while giving him a stare that could kill. I can sense the hairs on his neck stand as I leak out some of my psionic energy under the pretense of his son’s threat. He is a pretentious bastard, but he is no fool. He knows that there is no benefit in starting a fight in the Ziggurat, much less with me.

“Is there anywhere more private we could speak, Grand Executor?” he asks.

“Of course. Follow me.”

A minute or two later we reach one of the conference chambers in the Ziggurat. This room is usually used for more formal occasions, but it’s fine.

I motion the two guards to stand watch outside, and Eleg does the same. A few moments later, the only people left in the room were me, him, and his son.

“So how can I help you, Archduke?” I asked, leaning back into my seat.

Eleg makes a sign to his son who taps a few buttons on the tables holographic display command console before inserting a drive in one of the free ports.


cropped_ch1.png


A three-dimensional rendition of Zubelgenubi’s largest planet, Thile, appears in front; an old, fractured world destroyed during the Coalition War.

“As you are aware, Thile is a fractured world located in the northern part of the Imperium.” He explained. “It’s also been stabilized using the funds of the Valesky family a few years ago.”

I nod, and he continues.

“After we stabilized the world itself, we sent several groups of scientists to establish a few planetary outposts, more specifically, scientific outposts. We’ve had to abandon all of them bar one.” Ildrodel explains.

Eleg rises from his seat and moves over to Ildrodel, tapping a few buttons on the console. A rendition of the outpost appears; a well-fortified complex embedded in the base of a mountain.

“Our last base was established in an already-existing facility on the planet. We’ve found a vault inside, and a lot of data that indicates this must be containing an ancient databank… or atleast something of equal value.”

I sigh, crossing my arms.

“This is all well and interesting, however I do not understand why you came to me exactly. Why have you not gone to the empress?” I ask.

Ildrodrel responded before his father could.

“We have. She is willing to grant us the resources needed to get that databank.”

I pause for a moment, tilting my head to the side.

“But?”

“But she demands that you oversee the operation. She would not explain why, but unless you oversee the extraction, we’re on our own.”
Eleg sighed.

I whistled, much to the Archduke’s chagrin.

“Our Empress no longer seems to believe in the Archduke and his faction?”

I could sense both him and his son tense up at my taunt, but much to my surprise, the boy bowed his head respectfully and pleaded earnestly.

“Grand Executor, as the heir of the Archduke, I humbly request that you aid us.”

“I refuse.”


Eleg’s aura abruptly changed, the vein on his forehead bulging out of his skin. Psionic energies rippled around him as he stared me down. I scoffed in his face, bemused, which prompted him to move his hand towards the sword dangling from his hilt. I watched his display, standing up from my seat, channeling psionic forces around me.

“I have had enough of your insolence, Idrithrel.”

“No!”
Ildrodel bellowed. “We did not come here to fight, father! Grand Executor, may I please know what your reasons are?” he asked as he turned towards me.

I answered curtly, “I have three reasons.”, raising three fingers at the two.

“One. I have no interest in furthering the noble faction’s agenda. As you are aware, we have quite different beliefs.”

Eleg scowled, bringing his power under control. Ildrodel nodded.

“Two. I don’t intend to get assassinated. How am I supposed to trust there will be no foul play from your troops?”

I pause for a moment.

“Three. I have other pressing matters to attend to, such as the new avatar of the Eater of Worlds.”

Ildrodel remained silent, pondering for a moment. He looked towards his father who returned a nod.

“And if we turn the databank over to you?”

“Why would you do that?”
I ask.

Eleg explained. “Our interest in the planet is to turn it into an enigmatic world. I am sure you are aware of my ambitions; I wish to see house Valesky building a new Voidsphere before my son takes over the reign.”

“And if there is no databank?”

“If there is no databank, you can take whatever we find down there, at your discretion. We merely need your help in getting rid of the void fiends and wraithes.”
Ildrodel answered.

“In addition to the troops provided by the Empress, which I will personally vet, by the way, I will take a battalion of troops from the Order.”

“Fine.”
Eleg confirmed.

“All reinforcements will be under my direct command, and the troops you have stationed at the facility will answer to my orders.”

“Okay.”
Ildrodel nodded.

I stand up, somewhat befuddled by their decisions. I did not expect them to agree to all of these terms. It seems that having a Voidsphere for the Valesky dynasty is extremely important to the Archduke. Makes sense, when I think about it. Given that the Empress has no heir, they would be the forefront runners to taking over the Imperium… and what better way to help your case than a full-fledged Voidsphere.

“Very well.” I sigh. “I’ll await the lists and confirmation. When do you want to depart?”

“It’ll take us around two-three weeks to raise the forces necessary and procure all the equipment needed. Clearing a fractured world is quite the expensive business.”
Eleg answered, the exhaustion visible on his face. He had enough of this and wanted to leave.

I simply smiled and thanked them before having the guards escort them and their group out of the Ziggurat. On my way back to my chambers I could see Anastajia talking to one of the instructors. I could eavesdrop on their conversation, but by now, the little twerp could figure out that I was spying on her. I’ll leave her be, so long as she does not give me any reason for concern.

But, since I plan on taking her with me to Zubenelgenubi, I think it would be good to see firsthand just how far she’s come. I focus on the psionic energy stirring inside me and send her a telepathic message.

`Anastajia.`

A brief pause, and she answers me. Good.

`Master? Do you need me?` she asks.

`I want you to train with me tomorrow. I want to see for myself how your abilities have evolved.`

I could sense she’s nervous, but ultimately, she agrees without any complaints.

`By your command.`
 
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Why do I feel like Anastajia will be accompanying Idrithrel on this mission?

It is nice to see how Anastajia is more stable now.

If Idrithrel's going to be occupied, who's dealing with the Eater of Worlds?

But, as we all know, it was the Zroni who ended up creating those major "Gods". So who says someone else won't end up creating a new one?

That's... a very concerning possibility. How much psionic power would be required for that? How much hatred for the galaxy would be needed to create an entity like the End of the Cycle (assuming it doesn't already exist)?
 
Why do I feel like Anastajia will be accompanying Idrithrel on this mission?

It is nice to see how Anastajia is more stable now.
Anastajia is now a soldier of the Imperium, so she will be accompanying Idrithrel, but not before one more fight between master and apprentice.

If Idrithrel's going to be occupied, who's dealing with the Eater of Worlds?
Turgal and his Order of Psion ought to pull their weight and do something about it, but you can never rely on those dull space hermits.

That's... a very concerning possibility. How much psionic power would be required for that? How much hatred for the galaxy would be needed to create an entity like the End of the Cycle (assuming it doesn't already exist)?
A lot, I assume. Worst part is, all the ensuing carnage and battle does nothing but empower the Eater of Worlds. What if it wants to duke it out with the EotC?