Secrets of Kni’thokon

[crisrko]

“We stand on the precipice of defeat. Our people have dispersed to all the edges of the galaxy. Our most fervent faithful retreat into the dark space, where they may escape prosecution. Countless others will have to spend the rest of the days in these accursed xeno empires”.

Hakeem Peresi, Supreme Commander of the Human Imperial Navy

---

Aleksander Cordero, Qwumx Autocracy
Fifth Murder
Pit of Hopelessness


Pang, the Superhabitable World of the Qwumx, a species of bipedal avian humanoid. Located close to the center of the Sdi System, Pang was home to many humans taken in by the Qwumx Autocracy after the fall of the Human Empire during the coalition war. Though it was a vastly different world compared to the continental and crag worlds that humanity was used to, it was better than drifting through space endlessly. Pang was merely a new page in the long history book of humanity; ultimately, it would endure.

While autocratic, the Qwumx were fervent xenophiles, encouraging the cooperation between different species to the point that it was part of their governance. Grand Leader Phu Qets Smiks, the ruler of the Autocracy, is a retired Fleet Admiral of the Autocracy and had served during the height of the Coalition War. He was there when the Imperial Fleet of Emperor Assen was broken by the forces of the Mirati Imperium and the rest of the coalition.

Before his appointment, he spoke at length of the courage displayed by the many species of the Galaxy in defeating the evil empire. Hypocritical, coming from a former fleet admiral of an autocratic state that itself was guilty of the same crimes as the Human Empire, though to a lesser extent. I suppose this was part of why the Autocracy agreed to take in many refugees; to riddle them with debt and place them in servitude to the Autocracy for the rest of their lives.

Pang itself was a beautiful planet ruined by rampant industrialization at the hand of the local government. Unlike other species within the galaxy, they were individualistic and competitive, with a great focus on amassing wealth. Fierce capitalists, the Qwumx had built some of the greatest alloy forges the galaxy had ever seen, and now they had the workforce to sustain them.

Of course, that didn’t mean that this fate awaited all the Empire’s refugees. Aleksander Cordero, descended from a family of refugees assigned to Pang after the end of the Coalition War, was a Commodore in the Autocracy’s Armada, serving as the aide of the Admiral of the Fifth Murder, a small fleet of Strike Cruisers meant for special operations, like reconnaissance and strategic strikes.

And at this moment, Commodore Cordero was in one such operation…

---

Three hours until impact...

---

“How are we looking, Commodore?” inquired the tall avian creature. “Are we going to get through this nebula?”

“Based on our calculations, Admiral, we should be out of it within the next two hours.” Aleksander responded. “We’ll be entering Dark Space in no time.”

“Baha. Were it so easy my boy. No one has ventured this far since the Coalition War, and we can see why. Those nebulas make my skin crawl. They’re unnatural.”

“Admiral Buwks-Be, if I may speak freely?”

Buwks-Be wafted his hand, granting him permission.

“I believe that these nebulas are artificial. It’s an extremely high concentration of gas, with most of its composition being unregistered in any of our databases.”

“What, so you think that someone made these to keep us out of the Dark Space?” Buwks-Be sounded unconvinced. “Though it may make sense, given the sparse number of hyperlanes connecting Dark Space and this arm of the Galaxy.”

“A chokepoint. Sort of. Normally, reaching this area would be impossible through normal Hyperlanes. But, given that we’ve jumped over the Mirati outposts…” Aleksander added on quickly after.

Buwks-Be pondered silently for a moment before giving out his instructions.

“Keep a close eye on our scanners. While those Strike Cruisers are equipped to take a beating, I don’t want us to get into any sort of fight blindly. Especially not with the Imperium.”

“I’ll relay your command.” Aleksander replied. “I’ve also taken the liberty of instructing all vessels to arm their Minotaur Rocket Systems in advance, just as a precaution.”

“Good. Maintain our current trajectory and notify me whenever something comes up.”

“By your will.”

Aleksander saluted his Admiral and quickly retreated from the Captain’s Deck into the communications room.

Minotaur-Class Strike Cruisers, creatively named by their iconic rocket systems, were the Qwumx’s solution to the need of a modern, updated ship design that would replace the aging Corvette platform. While maintaining the maneuverability and raw speed, these Strike Cruisers present a far stronger hull and armor than anything a Corvette could possibly field.

With the vast technological progress resulting from thousands of years of research, the experience gained from the Coalition War, and the freebies surrounding black matter reactors from the Mirati Imperium, the Qwumx had succeeded in developing a modern fleet of ships, larger and stronger than their traditional counter parts. Those ships also required a far smaller crew; to be more specific, a Qwumx Strike Cruiser was similar in size to a traditional Cruiser, though only required enough crew to fit a Corvette.

Though not as nimble and maneuverable as Corvettes, the Strike Cruisers have proven to be a fantastic replacement appreciated by many empires across the Galaxy.

Returning to the story, it has been two weeks since the Fifth Murder was dispatched by Grand Leader Phu Qets Smiks to investigate one of the hyperlanes connecting into the Dark Space; situated deep within the ‘Pit of Hopelessness’, as it was named by the explorers whom discovered it, it was a very thick nebula at the very edge of the galaxy.

While nebulas typically do a number on sensor systems, recent advancements in technology have made travelling through them virtually the same as travelling through clear space. This was not the case of this nebula however, as it is completely impenetrable by sensors or any sort of radars. Coupled with the pure mysticism surrounding the Dark Space, this prompted the new Grand Leader to send his men to investigate.

Fifth Murder was a very small fleet. As previously mentioned, it was only tasked with special operations. Consisting of only four strike cruisers, this fleet is capable of traversing through four systems within ten days, as well as jumping dozens of light-years in a single jump. Extremely mobile, equipped with state-of-the-art weapons and led by one of the greatest active Admirals of the Autocracy, it was the pride and joy of the Fleet.

---

One hour until impact...

---

“We should be exiting the nebula as we speak, Admiral.”

“Now then…” Buwks-Be said as he pushes himself off his seat. “Let us see what is beyond the Pit of Hopelessness…”

Within a few moments, the ship finally exited the nebula, entering into an unknown system.

It was a B Class star, brightly shining from within the center of the System. It was huge, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Murmurs erupted on the deck, though some could be distinguished by Aleksander.

‘Is this it?’ ‘I thought there’s going to be some scary monster…’ ‘So this is the Dark Space? It doesn’t look any different.’

“I don’t know what it is, Commodore, but I have a very bad feeling.” Buwks-Be complained as he instinctively shuffled out his wings in a rather defensive motion. It was an evolutionary quirk of the Qwumx that they never really got rid of.

Aleksander swiped the screen of his P.A but nothing would appear to come up.

“Our sensors aren't seeing anything, Admiral—”

Alarms started to blare violently on the deck. One of the officers on the deck quickly reported.

“We’re detecting a large swathe of energy travelling towards our fleet at extremely high speeds!”

A huge purple ball of death tore through the space, hitting one of the four Strike Cruisers dead center and causing the hull to tear apart immediately. As the hull was exposed, the ship slowly collapsed, descending into the void of space.

“It’s a hit! Beta is down! I repeat, Beta is down!” “What the hell was that?!”

The bridge erupted in panic. A Minotaur-Class Strike Cruiser was destroyed in a single blast. And what’s more, that blast was unlike anything covered by their intelligence. Weapons that could tear apart a Minotaur-Class S.C in a single blast exist, but most of them are employed only by the Mirati Imperium. No other state, at least to Aleksander’s knowledge, possessed such fire power.

“All ships spread out immediately. I don’t want you to bunch up!” Buwks-Be barked his orders as quickly as he could, but he was already too late.

Another eerie ball of flame shot out from the same direction, dispatching another Minotaur Cruiser with ease.

“Delta is also down, Admiral!” Aleksander immediately reported. “I advise activating our emergency jumpers now!”

“With this much interference its akin to signing our own death sentences, Commodore!” Buwks-Be complained.

“With all due respect, Admiral, whatever that thing is took out two of our ships within the span of sixty seconds. If we don’t jump now, we’re dead anyway!”

Buwks-Be grit his beak loudly and violently smashed his fist into his armrest.

“Very well! Go ahead!”

Aleksander nodded and pressed a few buttons on his PA, opening a direct channel between him and the navigators on both ships.

“Prepare your emergency jump drives and get ready to jump on my mark!”

A third ball of flame was coming in their direction at frightening speed. Within a few seconds, it was already a few hundred kilometers away.

Aleksander roared. “Engage! Engage!”

As the floor rumbled loudly, space itself distorted around the two Minotaur Cruisers, jumping them into an unknown system.

---

Twenty minutes until impact...

---

Slowly but surely, the rumble decreased as the engines ground to a halt and entered their mandatory period of inactivity. Jump drives allowed instantaneous movement between immense distances but there was one significant drawback. It could not be used in quick succession. Sure, the Minotaur Cruiser was equipped with a Translocator Drive, an improved version of the classic Jump Drive, but it still had a significant cool down period, and until that period expired, the crew could only rely on their thrusters.

“Status report, Commodore!”

“Give me a moment…” Aleksander sighed as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. After a quick few touches at his PA he spoke out: “We appear to be deeper within Dark Space, three dozen light years away from our previous location.”

“What about Gamma?” Buwks-Be asked.

“Status unknown. They do not seem to be in the same system as us and we are unable to contact them. All communication systems appear to be down. We're on our own.”

“System malfunction?”

Aleksander shook his head. “No. I think something’s causing it. We’re being jammed.”

Buwks-Be furrowed his eyebrows and pushed himself off his seat, walking closer towards the navigation deck.

“Aleksander… Look.” Buwks-Be muttered as he pointed through the pane.

Chatter broke out on the deck once again.

“What in the hells is that?” Aleksander inquired as he approached the Admiral.

It was a planet. Or at least, it resembled one. No, it couldn’t really be called a planet anymore. It was an ominous blue ball of death. Humongous storms raged on the surface; storms so large they were visible from the deck of the ship.

“I’ve seen this before…” If a bird could turn blue, then that’s how you would describe Buwks-Be’s face right now. He was utterly horrified. “I’ve seen it during the Coalition War, when the Human Empire bombarded Akkanar.”

“Are you talking about the Gamoran homeworld?” Aleksander inquired.

“Yeah… during the height of the Coalition War, the Human Empire let loose their dark energy cannons on Akkanar as punishment for the Gamoran’s rebellion. By the end of the day, the planet itself was fractured. An eerie green hue, raging thunderstorms and monstrosities created out of dark energy.”

“…Green? Not blue?” he pondered.

“Mhm. But I’m willing to bet you a thousand credits that what caused this was no different from it—”

Alarms blared violently again, and one of the engineers quickly cried out.

“We’re detecting a large subspace rupture! Something is about to enter the System!”

“On screen!” Aleksander instructed quickly.

It was a… ship? But it was too big, Aleksander thought to himself. It’s easily the size of a moon. What sort of ship is this?

A jet-black vessel erupted from hyperspace and was heading into their direction at immense speeds. It would take less than twenty minutes for them to reach their location, and their weapons even less. Its huge, armored panels began to open wide at the center as a blinding light started to gather at the center of the ship. It was already readying its weapons.

‘Is this a sick joke? It's larger than even a Mirati Hyperion.’ Aleksander thought to himself as he dropped onto one of the seats. The noise around him began to muddle and he began to feel sick. An enormous pressure was crushing him at this very moment. Panic was beginning to seep in.

Noticing this, Buwks-Be rushed over to Aleksander, violently striking his fist with his cheek, sending him tumbling down and out of his chair.

“Get a hold of yourself, Cordero! You do not have the right to give up yet!” The Admiral roared angrily as he made his way to where Aleksander fell. Grabbing him by the collar, the Qwumx pulled him up to his feet and gave him a good shake. “Snap out of it. We’re not dead yet.”

With this, Buwks-Be rushed back towards his seat and quickly brought up communications to all decks.

“This is Admiral Buwks-Be speaking. I want you to divert all energy to our thrusters and shields. We’ll use that blue ball of death to escape our pursuers.”

“But sir!” one of the younger officers cried out. “We cannot get any sort of reading on that planet. Those storms will completely incapacitate our systems! We're going to get torn about!”

Buwks-Be immediately shot that down. “Quiet! It’s either that or we die here, Officer! Now power those damn thrusters!”

The young officer clenched her fist and complied with the Admiral’s instruction. Minotaur-Class Strike Cruiser Alpha was now heading at full speed towards the unknown planet, quickly followed by that hostile ship.

“We’re at full speed yet they’re still gaining on us, Admiral…” Aleksander stated with clear uneasiness in his voice. “I think we’re going to make it to atmosphere before they’re in range, but…”

“But you think those storms will tear us apart, don’t you?”

Aleksander nodded affirmatively.

“Even though I’ve never done it, I heard that the Mirati Empire had successfully touched down on one of these planets before.” Buwks-Be explained. “Granted, they have a better grasp of all this dark matter dark energy stuff than we do, but if they did it… that means we can do it too.”

“In theory.” Aleksander retorted.

“This planet also has something different about it. It appears to be in a far worse state than what happened to Akkanar, so I dread to know what we’re going to find on the ground.”

“Let’s hope we don’t need to stay down there for long.” Aleksander sighed. “If those storms are as violent as they look, they might tear the ship apart.”

---

Five minutes to impact.

---

“Hostile ship has fired upon us. I repeat, the ship has fired upon us!”

Alpha shook violently as the beam clashed with the ship’s deflectors. With a single blow, the energy shields were toasted, and a hole was punched clean through the engine compartment.

“Energy shields are down! Hull breached! Initiating lockdown of the impacted areas.”

All the officers and engineers were going ballistic. Is this all the Minotaur Class amounted to in face of this unknown ship?

And what’s more, they were about to enter the atmosphere without anything to shield them from the storm! If anyone on the ship believed in any God, it was high time they started to pray, because only such a power could save them now.

Alpha shook violently once more, as another energy beam collided with the ship, blowing another hole through some of the ships xentronium armor. It wasn’t quite strong enough to pierce the hull as well, probably due to the angle at which it hit, but the cruiser was on its last legs.

“Entering planetary atmosphere now—” Aleksander grunted loudly as he presented the situation, glued to his chair by the enormous gravitational pull. Whatever that storm on the surface was, it was bringing the Alpha down, fast!

“What about…” Buwks-Be gasped. “…the other ship?”

“It seems to have broken off pursuit! They’re not following us!” Aleksander replied.

“That’s good news my boy but I don’t think we’re going to be able to get through this one in one piece!” Buwks-Be chuckled loudly as the ship continued to descend quickly towards the planet’s surface.

“Brace yourselves! Imminent emergency landing! Whatever you do, do not let go of your seats!” the navigator cried out.

As moments passed, the ship got closer to the surface faster and faster.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Admiral!”

As Aleksander gave his regards, the Alpha crashed into the planetary surface, tearing itself apart on impact.

 

[crisrko]

"A gift, from us to you. With this, you will be able to fight the Empire on equal grounds. All you have to do is take it."

Vaklan IX Larian, Emperor of the Mirati Imperium, before members of the Galactic Coalition

---

Aleksander Cordero, Qwumx Autocracy
Fifth Murder
Pit of Hopelessness
Unknown planet


Only a few hours had passed since the Alpha Strike Cruiser was engaged by an unknown ship, causing it to ultimately flee into an unknown raging ball of storms. Despite its state-of-the-art construction, the vessel could not survive the planet’s atmosphere and was torn apart upon crashing on its surface.

By what could only be called a miracle, some of the crew had managed to survive. Commodore Aleksander Cordero, now the highest-ranking officer, assembled his small team of survivors to secure their crash site.

One of the survivors, a young male Dannian known as Hine Pita was tasked with maintaining watch while the rest of the group salvaged whatever supplies and equipment from the ship they could. Formerly a member of the Autocracy’s Marine Corps, Hine Pita had chosen to switch careers after serving for two years in a garrison on a fringe system. His ability to tinker with things and engineering prowess had seen him fast tracked by Admiral Buwks-Be into the Fifth Murder’s engineering division.

“Hine Pita to Commodore Cordero, come in.”

“I hear you loud and clear, Pita, what’s going on?” Aleksander replied while overseeing the last two members of his ragtag crew disassembling one of the nutri-replicators.

“It’s not like I can see well anything beyond ten meters, but it feels like the storm is getting worse.” The young Dannian explained while tightening his grip on his dark energy rifle. “Remind me what the plan is after we gather supplies?”

“Good news is that we managed to salvage the quantum beacon.”

“And the bad news?” Pita sighed loudly before asking.

“It can’t get through the storm. If we’re going to send out a distress signal, we’d need to get somewhere high. Preferably out of the storm.”

A moment of silence.

“Are you shitting me?” Pita blurted out. “Through that storm?!”

“You’ve a better idea, Engineer?” Aleksander retorted.

A longer moment of silence followed before Aleksander continued.

“We’ve got two dark energy rifles, a gauss rifle and four plasma pistols. If the storm doesn’t get us, our equipment and supplies should do. We’ll be out there in a second.”

Aleksander disconnected his communication device before slinging the gauss rifle over his shoulder.

“Thon-Tlau, Iris, are you two ready?”

Thon-Tlau, an older male Qwumx, was the only surviving navigator from the crash. Having served on the Fifth Murder for over a decade, he had become the primary navigator for the Alpha and one of Admiral Buwks-Be’s most trusted friends.

Iris on the other hand, was human female. Much like Aleksander, she was the descendant of a refugee family from the planet Pang and the only other engineer serving on the Alpha along with Hine Pita.

Together, these four made up the remaining crew of the Alpha Strike Cruiser and the only known survivors of the Fifth Murder.

“Equipped and ready to go, sir.” Iris responded.

“Same here, Commodore.” Thon-Tlau also responded.

While a good chunk of the equipment was blasted out by the impact, a few environmental suits remained on the ship. Built out of a special neutronium alloy, they were the state-of-the-art military combat equipment available to the Autocracy, and the only chance to survive inside the environment itself.

As the trio exited the torn hull, Pita dropped down from his location and next to them.

Wading through the storm, the high winds tore about at their environmental suits, leaving deep, visible scratches onto their surfaces. It was getting worse by the minute. Whatever limited visibility they had was already dropping and they were not going to be able to survive much longer out there.

Hine Pita and Cordero aside, the trip itself was extremely strenuous for the group. Thon-Tlau and Iris never received any sort of military training beyond basic equipment training, so they did not have the stamina necessary to travel this harsh terrain. The surface was slippery and uneven, a desolate sight. Most rock formations appear to have been almost carbonized, while the ground felt like glass. Massive chasms spread throughout the land, causing Iris to almost fall into one.

“We need to find cover now, Commodore!” Thon-Tlau shouted. “We need to wait out this storm! We won’t make it much longer!”

“We’ve been going for hours, Commodore. I agree with the bird.” Pita nodded in agreement.

Aleksander heaved as the wind clawed at his throat. It seems that the suit was also being overwhelmed.

“I can’t see anything to take cover in… but that path seems to be heading higher up. Worth a try, I reckon.” Iris interjected.

“Okay. Let’s follow that path, hopefully we can find some cover.”

Slowly but surely, the group started moving forward again. Climbing higher and higher, even losing one of their supply bags as Thon-Tlau slipped and almost broke his legs. He stepped on an unstable rock formation and caused it to break off, him falling down with it for a few meters.

Thankfully, Pita and Iris were quick on the uptake and managed to catch him before he fell down into the endless blue void. A pity for the plasma grenades they lost with that bag though.

---

A while longer?

---

“I can see a cave! Hey, do you hear me?!” Iris cried out to the others, waving her hands in the air.

Aleksander, Thon-Tlau and Pita rushed up after her, and the four made their way inside the structure. Unlike other structures on this planet, this one didn’t seem to be carbonized. It’s floor was extremely slippery, but it was nothing like the glass outside.

“This should keep us covered from the storm.” Pita noted as he reached into his waistline, retrieving a glowstick. Turning it on, he waved it around, inspecting the walls. “It looks better than nothing. It doesn’t seem to have any holes leading down deeper.”

“Then we can take a break here.” Aleksander nodded as he dropped his bag on the floor, collapsing next to it.

Thon-Tlau remained by the entrance to keep watch, gripping his dark energy rifle close to himself.

Iris opened one of the supply bags, removing some nutrient paste and a few packets of crackers. Nutri-paste, as it’s colloquially known, was nothing short of disgusting, but it never spoiled; it never went bad, and it could last for decades before drying up. If you could bear the taste, it provided enough vitamins and minerals to nourish even the most physically active soldiers. And the crackers. The crackers were just better than nothing.

“It’s been getting colder.” Pita complained. “You think this is the latter part of the day?”

“I don’t know how days work on this planet.” Aleksander replied. “It seems to be stuck in a perpetual storm.”

“Will it ever end?” Iris inquired as she curled up next to Aleksander, helping herself to a nutrient paste cracker.

Aleksander and Pita shrugged their shoulders in unison. Neither of them had seen anything like this in their lifetime. Nothing of the sorts is taught at the Academy, in basic training, anywhere, really. As far as they were concerned, this sort of thing didn’t even exist until today.

“Admiral Buwks-Be told me he saw something similar back during the Coalition War.”

Iris and Pita shifted their attention to Aleksander as he began to retell the Admiral’s story.

“It was during the Gamoran revolt. You guys know how the Gamorans used to work with the Human Empire, but ultimately turned on them as the war turned bad for them, right?”

“Sort of. Haven’t heard much about it during history lessons.” Iris replied.

“Not that many Gamorans left around the galaxy.” Pita continued. “Ye lot wiped almost all of them out.”

Aleksander bobbed his head slowly.

“Akkanar was punished by the Human Empire for their betrayal. Buwks-Be said that they unleashed all their dark energy weapons in a hellish bombardment.” Aleksander sighed before continuing. “In the end, it turned into something similar to this planet, apparently.”

“So this planet suffered a similar fate, eh? Someone bombarded the living hell out of it?”

“It kind of makes sense.” Iris replied. “It’s all… eerie and ghastly. Not a trace of a living soul. Permanent storms. We don’t completely understand this whole technology anyway. It was a hand-out from the Mirati to help the war effort.”

“Well we shouldn’t have been using technologies we don’t understand, don’t ye think?” Pita puffed, unclipping his helmet and resting it in his lap.

Aleksander let out a defeated chuckle. “You say that as if the Autocracy should've turned down technological parity with the Empire. Either way, they have an endless stream of soldiers to pick from; equipment mishaps won't bother them much.”

A momentary silence befell the group. Aleksander words rang true. All of them had been indebted to the Autocracy. Iris and Aleksander were indebted to the state since their ancestors first arrived on Pang, while Pita was bought from a bunch of pirates and released by a government official. His freedom would not be free however, becoming indentured to the Autocracy like all the other non-Qwumx.

“You think they’re looking for us, Commodore?” Pita enquired.

Aleksander shook his head lightly.

“Unless Gamma escaped, I don’t know. We’re a pretty specialized fleet. It’s only four ships… And most of us were ‘owned’ by the Autocracy anyway. I don’t know.”

“Well then you’ve a damn plan or are we all going to wallow in self pity before dying to the weather?”

“Stop it. Now’s not the time to argue about this. We’re alive for now, and that’s all that matters!” Iris interjected quickly, pushing herself up to her feet and staring down at the two.

Aleksander rolled his eyes while Pita scoffed and pushed himself up to his feet like an angry, spoiled child.

Pita slowly made his way towards the entrance to the cave before furrowing his eyebrows and raising his weapon.

“Commodore!” he called out. “Wasn’t Thon-Tlau meant to be standing guard at the entrance?”

Aleksander immediately came to his side with Iris in tow. Thon-Tlau was nowhere to be found. His dark energy rifle and his helmet were on the ground, but he wasn’t. Did he run into the storm by himself? It was the first thing that the group asked themselves, but it wouldn’t make sense.

“Did any of you hear anything?” Aleksander inquired.

“Haven’t seen or heard anything, ya git. I was with you, remember?” Pita hissed.

“No…” Iris replied, frantically looking around.

The group called out to him, even leaving the cave for a few brief moments to look around. But he wasn’t there. He was nowhere nearby. They couldn’t find him, ultimately returning to the cave to wait for better weather. Aleksander, Pita and Iris would sleep through the night with one eye open.

Three left.

 

[crisrko]

"Defeat is not an option. We cannot allow the Imperium to reach Kni'thokon before the device is ready. Now go."

Emedev Assen, last Emperor of the Human Empire

---

Aleksander Cordero, Qwumx Autocracy
Fifth Murder survivors
Pit of Hopelessness


“We’ve been walking for hours with no progress, Aleksander!” Pita complained. “We’ve crossed through chasms, dodged just as many sinkholes, but ultimately we’ve made no progress!”

Tensions were running high. After Thon-Tlau disappeared, the group had been unable to get proper rest. Everyone was alert, alert for whatever caused him to disappear. Mistakes were now slowly bound to happen.

“Keep moving, Pita. We need to keep moving.” Aleksander pressed forward unfazed, moving past Pita.

Frustrated, the Dannian lunged forward, grabbing Aleksander by his shoulder to twist him around and shove him back. Losing his footing, Aleksander stumbles back, falling to the ground.

“Keep moving?! Keep moving where?!”

Pita screamed out in frustration, spreading his arms out wide as he motioned to their surroundings.

“We can’t see further than a few meters. Thon-Tlau disappeared out of nowhere. We’re running on fumes and our supplies will run out soon! What’s your damn plan?! Care to share with us?!”

Aleksander pushed himself to his feet, rushing towards Pita and tackling him to the ground. Something inside him finally snapped. He’s had enough of all the complaints and his childish behavior. He was in just as much trouble as he was.

Knocking him down, Aleksander straddled the man and began to unleash a series of punches. As the scuffle between the two devolved into a brawl, Iris looked at the two and cried out to them in frustration:

“Stop it! Stop it!” Iris was on the verge of tears. After Thon-Tlau disappeared, everything just spiraled out of control. With a new storm approaching, it was impossible to find him; for better or worse, he was dead.

“I’m sick of you, Pita. I’m sick!” Aleksander huffed as he threw another punch in the Dannian’s visor. “I’m sick of your complaining. You got a better idea, you moron?!” He cried out, his frustrations oozing out. “I’m all for it you stupid dwarf, come on. You think you can get us off this hellhole?!”

Pita caught that punch square in the face, the impact between the reinforced knuckles and his visor causing the glass to crack. As Aleksander slowed down his assault, Pita grabbed onto his suit, throwing him onto the ground and reversing their positions. Pita began to strike down at Aleksander, going for his liver, his throat, even trying to tear his helmet off.

‘Those two completely lost it.’ Iris thought to herself as she stared at her companion’s brawl.

But the brawl was getting worse and worse. Aleksander and Pita were actively trying to harm each other. If it wasn’t for the armor plating of the environmental suit, they’d probably have hurt one another by now. Iris knew that she would have to break it up, lest those two idiots probably end up killing each other.

And thus, Iris grits her teeth and cocks back her dark energy rifle with determination.

“Stop it you morons!” she screamed as she fired two shots in the air.

Aleksander and Pita instinctively split away from each other and focused their gaze on Iris. They had finally regained their senses, and the two collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

“Gah. What am I doing…?” Pita mumbled under his breath as he held his head in his palms. For a faint moment, the Dannian rocked back and forth before rushing to his feet once more.

Pita was a prideful fellow. He was quick to anger, and this environment did nothing to help his worse tendencies. It was only a matter of time until he would have snapped and caused a fight with Aleksander. Deep inside he knew that this was not his fault. Poor man was doing the best he could, and he knew that.

But Pita would not apologize, at least not openly. Shaking his head a few times, Pita turned towards Aleksander and their two gazes locked. A momentary pause. Pita nodded to the man before pulling his rifle off the ground.

Aleksander returned the nod and heaved a loud sigh.

Iris looked at the two idiots and relaxed, lowering her weapon: “Come on… Let’s keep going.”

As the girl slowly turned around, a loud scream came from the duo’s direction.

“Iris!” “Get back!”

An ominous blue monster. A large floating eyeball, a long tail stretching out from what would be its socket. Atop its ‘head’, a small formation of crystals. Did the commotion attract this beast? Was it the dark energy rifle she fired?

By turning around, she was now face to face with it. Was it there all this time? How did none of them notice it until now?

Pita and Aleksander raised their weapons and cocked them back before aiming at the floating monster, but they were too late. The monster let out a blood curdling shriek before revealing an immense set of razor-sharp teeth. Ferociously, the beast latched onto the girls shoulder, shattering the environmental suits armor within a second.

Aleksander let out a guttural scream as Iris began crying out in pain, shaken from left to right in the mouth of the monster. Chunks of her armor plating flew out, revealing the gushing blood from her brachial artery.

Immediately, the two men rushed forward, unleashing a flurry of bullets in its direction. Instinctively, the monster let go of its prey and avoided the strike. Circling around with large speed, the beast attacked once more, knocking down Pita with great force. Enough force to make the Dannian drop his weapon, before circling the group once again ready to pounce.

Aleksander shot blindly around him until his clip ran out, unable to inflict any visible damage on the monster. Did the gauss rounds not do any damage to it, or was he that lousy of a shot? It couldn’t be the latter, he often trained with the Qwumx Marine Forces.

As the clip ran out and the weapon clicked loudly, the monster charged once more, this time towards Aleksander. Pita, however, was able to regain his composure and armament, breaking off the monster’s attack with a well-placed flurry of dark energy rounds and winning Aleksander a few moments.

Aleksander cursed and reloaded his weapon while charging towards Iris. The floating monster shrieked in pain, creating some distance between itself and the group.

“Get her on your shoulder! We need to run!” Pita shouted out as he continued to ward off the monster with his shooting.

Aleksander dropped down on his knees next to the girl while removing a small first aid kit from his duty belt.

‘Fuck. This is not good.’

Iris’s shoulder had a good chunk missing out of it. Bone tissue was exposed, and she had severe frostbite on the skin surrounding the opening. At this rate, she only had a couple of minutes left.

“I need to apply a stim, else she won’t make it out of her, Pita! Buy me a few more seconds!”

The floating eyeball circled once again before charging at Pita.

“Die!”

Thud, thud, thud.

After a series of direct hits, the monster collapsed to the ground. Without delay, Pita rushed forward, emptying the rest of his magazine in its head.

“I think… I think it’s dead. Aleksander, what’s Iris’s status?”

Aleksander lifted Iris on his shoulders and quickly stood up, holding his gauss rifle in his free hand.

“I’ve stabilized her with a stim and applied a nanite repair kit to seal her suit. It seems to be holding for now, but she'll need time to recover.”

Pita breathed a sigh of relief.

“What now? We’ve caused a huge commotion. If there’s more of these things, we’ve made sure they know we’re here.” the Dannian asked before prodding the dead monster with the tip of his rifle.

“Storm seems to be clearing up. We keep marching on to a higher vantage point, but we need to tend to her wounds properly.”

“Fine. We need to find another cave then.” Pita prodded the monster again with his foot before slinging the rifle around his back.

---

After walking for a an unknown amount of time...

---

Aleksander and Pita have finally come across a structure. A tall, obsidian-like rock formation with a hole big enough for a human sized adult to squeeze through. It seems that the trio have lucked out for now.

After they successfully made their way inside, it was clear that this cave expanded in several directions. To the right of the entrance, the cave seemed to descend underground. Walking forward, the cave turned into a large opening. It was deep enough to shield them from the storm.

“I think this will have to do for now.”

Aleksander concluded while lowering Iris onto the ground. Pita rolled out one of their sleeping bags, using it to warm her up.

“She’s still alive?” Pita asked.

“Yeah. Stim did the job. We were quick enough, looks like the nanites were able to repair her artery.”

“Good thing we managed to salvage the stims from the ship.” Pita nodded. “So, what now, then?”

Aleksander pondered for a few moments.

“We need to wait for her to regain consciousness. I don’t want us to run into one of these things again while carrying her. “

Pita bobbed his head before plopping himself down. He started rummaging through his bag, retrieving a few rations; he’d hand one out to Aleksander and the two would begin to wait in silence.

A few more hours would pass; Aleksander and Pita remain by Iris’s side, making sure to feed her and give her water as her body fights to regain consciousness.

 

[crisrko]

"By orders of the Emperor. Begin bombardment. Initiate code Annihilatus."
Unknown Fleet Admiral, during the siege of Akkanar

---

Aleksander Cordero, Qwumx Autocracy
Fifth Murder survivors
Pit of Hopelessness

It was the third day on the planet for the group. After losing an entire day to tend to Iris’s wounds, supplies were starting to run somewhat low. Food on the ship was created by a nutrient replicator, so it was not stocked up in excess. Assumptions by the Qwumx Navy were, to put it bluntly, that if the ship were destroyed, there would be no need to carry any food.

Stranded survivors on an unknown planet were not a scenario that was even under consideration when the ships were designed, nor would they expect that the four ships would be decimated the moment they skipped the Imperium starbases and entered the Dark Space.

“We need to start moving. Cave’s been all cozy and everything, but we need to get that beacon up before we run out of food.” Pita said while wiping clean the tub of nutrient paste.

“Can you walk now?” Aleksander asked, looking at Iris.

Iris nodded confidently before pushing herself up and making a show out of rotating her injured shoulder and stretching her legs.

“As good as new.” she said, as Aleksander offered her a plasma pistol.

“Use this. Ideally, we’d use a ballistic weapon, but we only have a single Gauss rifle.” Aleksander explained. “I hope we don’t run into another one of those things.”

“Else we’re screwed.” Pita added while getting up to his feet; he’d go on to clear his Gauss rifle before showing an OK to Aleksander.

Iris picked up one of the bags from the ground after setting the plasma pistol in her holster. “What about the storm?”

“Storm cleared up, somewhat.” Aleksander explained. “We won’t be walking blind anymore, but it’s not like we’re going for a nice summer stroll.”

“You sure you don’t want to explore that underground path?” Pita asked.

“We can try leave a marker here for… well, if we ever get to explore this planet. For now, I just want to get off this thing.” Aleksander responded.

Iris raised her hand before chiming in. “I really want to get off this planet, as well.”

Pita just shrugged his shoulders and exited the cave. Aleksander and Iris followed quickly behind him, exiting into the storm outside. The air was heavy, and the wind pressed against their throats even with the protection of their environmental suits. Blinding flashes of lightning split the sky in two, followed by deep, rolling rumbles of thunder that would vibrate through the ground beneath the trio’s feet.

“…Storm cleared up, he says.” Iris scoffed.

A few hours of walking later the group come across a narrow, winding trail. After quick deliberation, or rather, desperation, Aleksander instructs Pita and Iris to follow him through the trail. As they continued to ascend, the thick air started to thin and the dense fog that plagued their steps before was also dissipating.

Unfortunately, the trail was strewn with loose rocks and loose boulders, making every step a potential death sentence. A stim could repair a torn artery, but this would mean nothing to a fall from this altitude; suit or not, an impact from this height would mean certain death.

In perhaps their first stroke of good luck, they made it through the trail, nearing the summit of what appeared to be the remains of a mountainous formation. You couldn’t really tell anyway, considering almost everything was for better or worse, glassed by dark energy.

“I suppose this is the best we can do.” Aleksander said, as he continued to move forward, rotating his body as he surveyed his immediate surroundings. “We should be pretty high, no?”

Pita nodded in agreement as he took off his backpack and removed the beacon from a small metal box.

“Aye. We’ve been walking up for at least an hour. It’ll have to do.”

“Guys… It feels like we’re being watched, don’t you think?” Iris complained while hovering her hand over her holster. “I had this feeling ever since we entered that trail, but right now, it’s the worst.”

Aleksander tapped a few buttons on the side of his left bracer, initiating a scanning sequence of their immediate surroundings; but the scan could not detect any other lifeforms nearby.

“I’ve nothing on the reader.” He explained. “Are you sure it’s not just the exhaustion?”

“Don’t be thick, Aleksander.” Pita chimed in from the side after finalizing the deployment of the beacon. “Our scanners haven’t worked so far, and let’s not act like they detected that… that…” Pita could not really find his words. “Aberration.”

“I’m sure.” Iris nodded confidently as she unholstered her weapon.

Pita and Aleksander stood up to their feet while the beacon continued to hum and readied their weapons, scanning their immediate surroundings.

A few moments passed, though it felt like eternity. Aleksander could feel the hair on his body standing up as the tension mounted, unable to rationalize the dread he was feeling. His body screamed at him to run, even though there was nothing. His breathing became heavy, as did the others.

A few more moments passed, and a single figure became visible on the trail they came from. Slowly but surely, it made its way towards them. It was a single, humanoid figure, with pronounced avian features. Its armor was dented, torn apart at the collar and breast, and their helmet was missing.

“No way…” Pita mumbled under his breath.

“Thon-Tlau? He’s alive?” Iris asked, the hand holding her weapon shaking slightly.

By the time they snapped out of their shock, Thon-Tlau stood at the edge of the trail. A battered and bloody body; his gaze was deadpan and there was no real emotion on his face. Any signs of age were gone from his face, it was as if he was completely rejuvenated.

“What the hell happened to him?” Pita asked, as he grew visibly more distressed. His finger was hovering over the Gauss Rifle’s trigger as he aimed down the avian.

“Guys, I don’t think that’s Thon-Tlau. He looks… weird.” Iris commented.

Aleksander carefully took a few steps forward, bridging some of the distance between himself and Thon-Tlau; he maintained his posture and kept his weapon aimed at him.

“Buddy? Is that you?” he asked.

But the avian would not answer back. Thon-Tlau continued to stare back at him, deadpan, motionlessly. Temperature around them dropped quickly, the environmental suit blaring an almost deafening alarm inside their helmets.

‘Temperature critical. Temperature critical.’

Aleksander could see his breath turn into fog inside his helmet. Whatever was going on, the suits could no longer keep up with the temperature in their immediate surroundings. A faint shriek could be heard in the distance. And then another, and another, until a cacophony of bloodcurling shrieks drowned out all the noise in the area.

Pita shuffled around uneasily, taking his eyes off Thon-Tlau and instead scanning the skies. Iris did the same, taking a few steps back towards the beacon. Only Aleksander kept his aim on the avian, unable to do anything but trust that the two would have his back.

Thon-Tlau stepped closer once again, his movements rugged, but oddly fluid at the same time. An oppressive dread came over Aleksander, intensifying with each step; the temperature continued to drop until Aleksander could feel frostbite around his fingers and toes. His weapon became unnaturally heavy, and he started feeling dizzy.

Thon-Tlau stopped just short of him, staring at him with blue, glowing eyes. The cacophony of shrieks settled, as if the world itself was holding its breath in anticipation. Within a moment, the avian creature lunged at Aleksander, causing him to open fire.

A burst of dark energy shot out of his rifle, hitting the creature dead in the center, causing it to stumble back and collapse with a loud thud. Whatever remained of the suit’s breastplate burned away, revealing the melting flesh beneath. It was a horrid stench. Burnt and decayed flesh. If there was any sort of doubt that Thon-Tlau was dead, it was dispelled now. He’d been dead for days.

Aleksander took a step forward, intending to dump the rest of the energy clip in the body, but the creature stood up once again. Pieces of the armor dropped down on the ground with a loud clang, burned by the dark energy. Aleksander’s breathing was heavy as he began to step back, releasing another burst of dark energy into him.

“It’s not working!” Aleksander cried out to the two behind him.

“Guys, I don’t want to be the one stating the obvious, but do we even know if someone is going to find us?!” Iris cried out. “Let alone that, are we going to hold out until then?”

Pita stepped forward from Iris’s side and slowly approached Aleksander as he began to unload his Gauss Rifle into the avian creature. Each strike shook its body, but it pressed on, undeterred by the pain and flying chunks of its flesh. A single loud shriek escaped its mouth, causing Aleksander to stumble back and fall on his butt.

Immediately, the shriek was returned from the distance. Once again, their surroundings were drowned out by the shrieks of other unseen aberrations. And slowly, the noise grew louder, and louder, and louder, until it was upon them. Humanoid bodies came up the trail behind the avian; decayed, battered. Armored and unarmored, symbols of different species and ages now past.

Aleksander could make sense of some of them, even though their appearance was affected by the passing of time. Gamorrans, Humans, Dannians, even a few Mirati and other species he could not recognize. By now, dozens of such creatures surrounded them and their beacon. In the sky, flying aberrations like the one they encountered previously began to circle their location.

Pita cursed and mumbled under his breath as he shot up in the sky, trying to deter the floating monsters from swooping down upon them. Iris stood before the beacon, shielding it with her torso while shooting down each body that got too close.

Aleksander fired his Dark Energy rifle blindly into the group of monsters, taking one down with each burst. Unlike Thon-Tlau, these ones seemed to be taking damage. Was his rifle actually effective? Or did the passage of time, amplified by the searing heat of the energy, make those walking corpses unrecoverable as their limbs and torso were destroyed?

Each destroyed corpse was replaced by another; and endless stream of corpses rose from the ground, walked up the trail; an unending horde. If they all charged them at once, they’d be dead. But they didn’t. In front of this army of monsters, Thon-Tlau’s body stood still, mockingly, mocking their friend’s memory, mocking their struggle. It enjoyed watching them try to stay alive and protect that beacon.

However, this would not be Aleksander’s grave. When all seemed lost, his helmet rang. It was a communication channel. It came from an unknown frequency; at least it was not a recognizable Qwumx frequency.

“…come in.” it crackled. “Do you—” it crackled again “us?”

Aleksander pressed a few buttons on his bracer quickly, trying to narrow down the frequency.

“…area”. It crackled again. “Jump… imminent.”

A jump? But before Aleksander could register what exactly the voice meant, a rift tore open above their beacon, a single ship hovering above them. It was a Imperium Escort-Class. In the next moment, its dark energy cannons turned towards the beacon, the light at their tip slowly gathering, amplifying. It was ready to fire.

“Initiating beam.” The voice said once again, as Aleksander, Pita and Iris were frozen in place for a moment then slowly pulled up in the air. The cannons opened fire, unleashing a hellish bombardment upon the surface, melting the monsters into the glass beneath them. For a moment, he locked eyes with Thon-Tlau’s corpse. A sneer, he thought, appeared on the monster’s face, before the blue light in his eyed dimmed, collapsing into a mess of flesh and bone that would burn under the bombardment.

As the beaming sequence ended, the three found themselves in the hangar of the Imperium vessel. It was large. A single Imperium Escort-Class vessel was larger than a Qwumx Battlecruiser. A sheer display of superiority in both wealth and technology between the Imperium and the rest of the galaxy.

As they collapsed to their knees on the cold neutronium deck, three Mirati Praetorians stood before them. Their violet armor could not be mistaken for anything else; these were the single most dangerous fighting force in the Galaxy, the elites of the Mirati Imperium. Battle hardened psionics recruited through the Order of Ecclesia, reporting directly to the Royal Family of the Imperium.

Before Aleksander could speak, a harrowing pain pierced through his head. An anguish unlike he’s ever felt before. They were prodding through his mind with their psionic powers, unraveling his memories. He could feel them searching for answers.

It wouldn’t take them long to get what they wanted. One of the praetorians spoke gravely.

“Commodore Cordero. We’ve tracked your beacon from our outpost a few systems away. I don’t think you understand how lucky you are to be alive.”

Aleksander dropped his helmet to the ground, gripping his head in pain. A few moments later, as he regained his composure, he answered him.

“What… was that?”

The Praetorian visibly scoffed, looking at the other two beside him.

“You had no business entering this part of the Dark Space, human. Your Autocracy shall sorely pay for this transgression.”

With a single flick of his wrist, the weapons by their sides were flung towards the Praetorians; they were disarmed within a moment. He did not oppose him, nor show any resistance. Pita was quick to rise to his feet, but he was compelled to drop down to his knees once more by the psionic forces wielded by them.

“I have no doubt you already know everything.” Aleksander explained. “Do you know what happened to our other ship?”

“Destroyed.” He answered.

Aleksander froze for a moment before nodding.

“Was it your doing?” he asked.

“No. We are bound by the Treaty to safeguard these lands, but we do not require to kill you to stop your vessels. I believe they were destroyed by the same thing that chased you down to the planet.”

Aleksander nodded once more while Iris and Pita sighed in the background.

“As far as what you saw on the ground… I believe that you already know what it is.” He wafted his hand around, pulling them up to their feet with his psionic powers. “A fractured world. Destroyed during the Coalition War.”

“And what of those… things?” Iris asked.

The Praetorian paused for a moment.

“We call them Voidwraithes. Monsters spawned by the indiscriminate use of Dark Energy on the surface of the planet.” He answered. “Monsters that consume the soul and flesh of those they come across. A fate worse than death.”

Immediately afterwards, he crossed his hands behind his back, interlocking his fingers. Aleksander, Iris and Pita followed him, covered on the side by the other two Praetorians. A while later, after traversing through corridors and elevators on the ship, under the watchful gaze of the Mirati crew, they arrived at their cells.

“You and your crew are hereby under arrest, by the authority of the Mirati Imperium. You will be transported to Miresh Marr where you will await your fate.” The Praetorian declared. “I suggest you pray that your government cares about your lives.”

 

[crisrko]

“An empire of thousands of stars. We had brought the Galaxy under our control and laid waste to ancient empires. Here I stand, the last Emperor of humanity.”

Emedev Assen, last Emperor of the Human Empire

---

Anastajia
Order of Psion
Salo Helise


Rumbles echoed through the spaceport with the stop of the starship’s engine. Dappled rays of light filtered through the grid and into the hangar, shining onto a young woman and her Vissari companion.

“I don’t like this, Plume. Taufaean’s are not fond of my kind…” She spoke softly.

“They are not your crimes, my dear child. You had nothing to do with it.” He replied immediately, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “We are here as representatives of the Order.”

“I understand… I hope they will too.” She nodded reluctantly.

After the duo made their way through customs and earning more than a few stink-eyes from the security personnel, a diplomatic escort appeared at the exit of the Kalealise spaceport. Half a dozen Taufeans wearing military equipment were in tow of a tall, golden maned Taufean.

Donning white and blue duroceramic armor, they were dressed in the colors of their very Republic. Judging by their dark energy rifles, they were most likely former special operations enlisted in the direct service of the Prime Minister. Unlike the others, the leading one seemed to be wearing traditional Kalealisen robes.

A species of bipedal mammal, the Taufeans closely resembled lions. Covered in fur from top to bottom, their species grew on the Dune World of Kalealise, deep within the Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy, in the Salo Helise system.

Plume and the girl made eye contact with the group before bowing their heads respectfully and lowering their hoods. A couple of Taufeans’s expressions stiffened at the reveal of the woman’s face.

The golden maned Taufaean raised his right hand, before lightly bowing his head in return. His imposing stature towered above both Plume and the girl, standing somewhere around seven feet.

“I apologize for my escorts. It has been long since we have welcomed a human on Kalealise.” he uttered, displaying a cordial smile. “I welcome thee, Psionites. It is not often that the members of your order come to visit our planet. I am Aju Zhu, advisor to Prime Minister Giaei Shidu. I will be escorting you to the Republican Palace.”

“You honor us with your presence, Aju Zhu. I am Plume of Silver, Elder of the Order of Psion. This is Anastajia”, he motioned to the young woman, “my apprentice.”

Anastajia bowed her head lightly, openly holding her fist in her other palm. “I greet thee.”

Aju Zhu nodded to her before refocusing his attention on Plume. “Pardon my curiosity, Elder, but you’ve introduced yourself as one of the Silver clan. Are you perhaps a member of the Vissasi clan of Silver?”

Plume was visibly annoyed, but he nodded affirmatively. “I was, once. But all that is in the past. I retain my name, but not my titles, please remember that. To the Taufaean Republic, I’m merely an Elder of the Psionic Order.”

Aju Zhu exhaled loudly but conceded. “I understand.” Turning around, with the waft of his hand, the escort parted in two, opening the path of the advisor and his two guests. “Please follow me. We’ll be taking a shuttle to the Palace.”

A sea of green within the harsh dunes of the planet; the Kalealise capital of Disha sprawled over two million square kilometers. Taufaean’s took pride in their ability to conquer and reshape the sprawling deserts of their native planet, building large hydroponic facilities and beautiful gardens sprawling for hundreds of kilometers.

Skyscrapers muddled the center of Disha, hosting a large portion of the administrative component of the Republic, as well as the living quarters for many of the planet’s specialists. An aggressively cooperative race, many of their fundamental beliefs bordered into what humans would have thousands of years ago described as communism.

---

A short while later, the delegation arrived at the Republican Palace. If someone were to describe it, the most appropriate term would probably be “A Great Work”. Its tallest level could reach 724 meters, while the building itself covered over 424000 square meters. Its inner walls were decorated with golden marble, one of the most expensive materials native to the planet of Kalealise.

Its long corridors were adorned with gigantic Sylosi rugs, spanning dozens of meters. It was a marvel, and probably a financial disaster. But it was the pride of the Taufaean’s, so was there really a price too high for their crown jewel?

After a quick tour of the Palace, Aju Zhu, alongside Plume and Anastajia finally arrived at their destination, one of the conference rooms on the tallest level. Inside, Prime Minister Giaei Shidu alongside two bodyguards were already waiting. Giaei Shidu was a brown maned Taufaean, much smaller in stature than his advisor Aju Zhi.

“Apologies for the delay, Prime Minister. As I understand, there was a holdup at the customs office, so our esteemed guests were abit late.” Aju Zhi explained. “As you know, these are two Psionites I told you of a while back.” He motioned towards the duo.

“Our apologies for running late, Prime Minister Shidu. I am Plume of Silver, Elder of the Order of Psion, and this is my apprentice, Anastajia.” Plume bowed his head deeply, spreading his wing forward as is customary on Viss.

Anastajia mimicked her master’s bow and then openly held her fist in her other palm without a sound to salute.

Prime Minister Shidu’s gaze locked onto Anastajia, scrutinizing her every move as the two bodyguards behind him also tensed.

“A human Psionite, how peculiar.” Shidu remarked. “Master Psion, pray tell, since when does the Order of Psion train psionic humans? Has the last galactic conflict not been enough of a mess for your order? ”

Plume softly exhaled, straightening his back. As he forced himself a courteous smile, he laid his hand on his apprentice’s shoulder; he could feel her tense up.

“Our order trains any psionics, your greatness, irrespective of their species. Anastajia has been training with our order since her childhood. To judge a child for their ancestor’s mistakes would simply show that we are unable to learn and leave the past behind.”

Aju Zhi shot a glance towards the brown maned Taufaean in anticipation. Shidu sighed before wafting his hand.

“Perhaps you’re right, Master Psion. No point in debating what your Order chooses to do.” He conceded before motioning one of his guards to approach. After whispering something in his ear, the guard departed and then returned carrying a large neutronium case. “I understand that you are here for the Blade of the Huntress.”

Plume nodded lightly. “Indeed. Our order thanks the Taufaean Republic for its cooperation.”

One of the guards then opened the case, revealing the psionic blade to Plume and Anastajia. A large dark blade, made of long-lost alloys tempered by the energy of the Shroud itself. It was much more than a blade, a tool for combat. It was a psionic conduit, built so that the wielder may hyperfocus their psionic powers. Records state that those who wielded this blade could tear through subspace itself, paving the way for warships to travel faster through the vastness of the void.

“An old Kalealisen legend states that during the battle of Najaga, in the Dark Space, an ancient Psionic Warrior used the blade to slash through an enemy fleet, unleashing a deadly psionic blast that tore the fleet apart in moments and culled the life of the system itself, killing every living being in the blasts radius.” Shidu explained “Although after we analyzed the blade ourselves, we wouldn’t be too surprised if there was some truth to it.”

“Beautiful…” the girl muttered. “It is brimming with Psionic energy.” She said as she extended her hand to touch it, only for Plume to catch her hand and shake his head.

“No, my young apprentice. Artifacts that have been touched by the Shroud bear incredible power. A power that weighs on the mind. A power that would lull even the most strong-willed. Do not be careless, or you would find yourself enslaved by its power.”

She acknowledged Plume’s warning and retracted her hand, quickly apologizing. Plume then turned towards Prime Minister Shidu once again.

“We thank thee once again, Prime Minister. We will take the artifact to our order, where it will be kept safe, out of the hands of anyone who could seek to use it.”

“Make sure you do so, Master Psion. Our situation does not allow us to keep this artifact, but we hope that no evil gets their hand on this blade.” Shidu sighed. “Our very own people had lost much at the hand of this blade, and those who wielded it.” He added as he fixated his gaze on Anastajia once again.

Anastajia looked towards the ground, remaining silent. Plume noticed that, releasing a concerned sigh.

“Then we shall depart.” Plume said before reaching towards the case and closing it. Spreading his wing around Anastajia, like a caring father shielding his child, the duo departed with a small escort.

As the sound of their steps drowned out, Aju Zhi turned towards his Prime Minister, saluting him before saying:

“Are you sure about this, Shidu? Is it truly wise to allow the Psionic Order to house this artifact?”

Shidu cupped his hands together, resting his chin against them.

“Time will tell, my dear friend, but I know that the Kalealisi Order could never protect it properly. Though they may have psionic abilities, the goal of the Order had always been to pursue enlightenment, to understand the connection between our world and the Shroud. They’re not warriors…” Shidu sighed. “At least not to the same extent as the Order of Psion. And I don’t want the Ecclesians to get their hands on it.”

---

After leaving the Republican Palace, the escort accompanying the duo of Plume and Anastajia ultimately departed after dropping them off near the spaceport.

Plume and Anastajia slowly made their way inside, silently. Plume could sense her fidgeting, attempting but failing to speak up multiple times, probably feeling embarrassed by the reactions she got from the Taufaean parties.

It was a common occurrence, unfortunately. The galaxy did not have much love left for the Human species ever since the height of the Coalition War, the largest galactic conflict in over ten thousand years, and the end of the Human Empire of Kni’thokon. An empire so vast and so strong that the rest of the Galaxy had to band together to take it down. But the empire’s ascension led it to stray through a dark path.

With the development of the Dark Energy Reactor, later classified as the ‘Delta Reactor’, the Human Empire gained an undeniable advantage over the rest of the Galaxy. An advantage that quickly spiraled out of control, as waves of development brought about a new arms race. Harnessing the dark energies of black holes, human scientists developed weaponry that the Curator Order considered equal to “Enigmatic Technology”.

Enigmatic Technology, a moniker for the technology used by ancient, dormant empires such as the Ouijanese. It was a precursor civilization that met its fiery end at the hands of the Human Empire, a few decades before the start of the Coalition War. Enigmatic Technology was, in short, dark matter technology. By harnessing the power of black holes, it could be processed into dark energy, which would in turn fuel ships, weaponry or different facilities and equipment.

The scientific explanation is fuzzy at best and should be left to scholars, but the undeniable reality was that the weaponry born out of this technology was miles above even the most efficient plasma throwers and largest kinetic batteries. For years, the Coalition could do nothing but stall the advance of the Human Empire at the cost of entire worlds.

However, the tide had turned when the Mirati Imperium also joined the war. Another ancient civilization, though not as old as the precursors themselves, was dragged into the war when the Empire violated their borders and laid waste to one of their systems; a fatal mistake that would ultimately cost them their empire.

Unlike the rest of the coalition, the Mirati Imperium also possessed knowledge of this enigmatic technology. In fact, their application of technology was far more efficient than that of the Human Empire. After all, they had studied it for centuries, while the Humans had barely begun to peek into the true void.

In the end, the Mirati chose to share the technology with the rest of the coalition, albeit a more primitive, but functional version of the technology. By the end of the decade, the Human Empire was pushed back to Kni’thokon, and the Star Throne was destroyed, engulfed in a ball of blue energy.

Let us return to the present, however. Anastajia, one of the few humans within the Order of Psion, was no stranger to the persecution from the other galactic races. Plume of Silver, one of the wisest Psions of the Order took the girl as his apprentice in her early teens when he discovered her on a space station within Dark Space.

“My dear child, I can sense that you are troubled. I’ve waited for you to speak, yet you still hesitate to speak your mind.” Plume asserted softly, like a concerned father. His wing spread, surrounding Anastajia at his side, as if shielding her from anything else. “Tell me. What bothers you?”

“It… It’s the usual, master.” Anastajia confessed, painfully. “Everywhere I go, they give me weird looks. All of them must think of me as some sort of monster.” Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, as she heaved a deep sigh to fight them back.

“Hmm…” Plume pondered. “Anastajia…” he called out to her as he stopped, resting his spare hand on her shoulder. Slowly, he knelt and lifted her chin. “You must learn to let go of these feelings. You are not the author of your ancestor’s actions. You are not them. If you are to ever be at peace, you must do so.”

“It’s not fair, you know? Other apprentices at the Order shun me. I can sense some of the Magister’s fear and distrust me…”

Plume smiled softly.

“Fear and distrust are feelings born from the unknown. You are the only human apprentice in training on Zith.” He slightly gripped her shoulder before pushing himself up. “Your psionic powers come once in a hundred generations. You rival the Grand Psion himself in raw psionic power.” Plume nodded, pulling his hand back. “But to achieve that, you need to attain balance within yourself, Anastajia. You must face your feelings, and when you do that, you will see that you will grow.”

Anastajia bobbed her head meekly, as if not fully convinced.

“I… I understand.”

Plume retracted his wing as stretched out his shoulder.

“Let us go then. Our ship is at the end of this corridor.”

---

A short while after, the duo entered the hangar. Much to Anastajia’s surprise and Plume’s concern, the interior seemed to be eerily empty, bar the ship itself. It was quiet, extremely quiet. It was so quiet that you could hear the electricity crackle from the wall lights.

“Is this a Taufaean plot?” Plume thought to himself. “No… It is unlike them. They’ve never shied away from denying our requests in the past… I doubt they’d need to pull something like this off.”

“Master!” Anastajia called out to him. “I can sense something… I don’t know who it is… but he is a psionic… And he’s extremely strong.”

Anastajia visibly tensed up, moving her hand into her waistline as a hooded figure exited from their ship. By the shape of his body, he was clearly a humanoid, though none of his skin was exposed. His face, covered by his hood and a crimson, metallic mask.

Plume himself spread out his wings, assuming a defensive stance before calling out to the masked figure.

“Greetings, friend. May I know what you are doing with our ship?”

But there was no answer.

“Do you understand me? My name is Plume. May I know what you are looking for on our ship?”

No answer again.

“I don’t think he’s a talkative one, Master.” Anastajia whispered. “What are we going to do?”

“For now, hold onto the case.” Plume responded quickly, before leaving the case with her. He then turned towards the masked figure once again and slowly took a few steps forward. “My friend, do you understand what—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, the masked figure leapt forward, immediately closing the distance between them. With a single thrust, he sent Plume flying backwards.

“Guh”, Plume groaned as he quickly regained his footing with the help of his wings. But before he could say anything again, the figure dashed towards Anastajia.

Immediately, the girl stepped backwards and reached into her waistline for her plasma pistol, aiming it at her assailant. Within a second, she felt her grip on the handle failing, and the weapon was sent flying towards the other end of the hangar. The masked man thrusted his open palm towards her head.

“I won’t be able to dodge—”

“No, you don’t!” Plume shouted out as he blocked the strike with one of his wings.

Immediately, he spun around to deliver a kick, but his strike was blocked. A flurry of strikes ensued, the two fighters blocking every strike coming their way.

While the battle ensued, Anastajia circled around, making her way onto the ship, and securing the case in the cargo hold.

“I need a weapon… I need a weapon… Why is there no weapon on this damned ship?!”

She cried out internally as she rummaged through the ship.

“We go retrieve a Psionic relic and he doesn’t bring a spare weapon to defend ourselves!”

She cursed and cursed while looking through each locker with frustration. In the end she would have to concede that her search would not bear fruit and make her way towards the pilot’s seat. As she ran through her ship’s corridor, the ground beneath her shook violently. Master Plume and the masked man were engaging in a Psionic battle.

Rumble, shake, rumble, but the girl would dutifully enter her seat and ignite the engines.

“Time to get out of here!” Anastajia yelled out at the top of her lungs, hoping that Plume would be able to hear her.

Slowly, the ship would lift off the ground, turning towards the fight.

`Dodge, Plume!` She called out to him, telepathically.

Heeding her call and sensing immediate danger, Plume unleashed a devastating psionic blast towards the masked man and then leapt back, covering himself with his wings.

A thick cloud of smoke formed around the attacker as he deployed a defensive barrier to block Plume’s blast, but as quickly as it dispersed…

“Let’s see how you’re going to tank this!”

Anastajia unleashed the ship’s dark energy cannons while Plume jumped onto the ship. A thick, green cloud appeared as the cannons pounded the attackers location, tearing apart the durasteel plating on the ground and ceiling. In the meantime, Plume made it inside the ship.

“Overriding pilot controls. I’m getting us out of here, Anastajia. Keep shooting him!”

Plume barked loudly and with a wheeze. Tapping a few buttons on the console, the pilot’s stick quickly stuck out from the center of the console. As they made their escape, the fire alarms finally rang throughout the station, leaving behind them nothing but a thick ball of green smoke.

“That was too close for comfort, Master! Far too close!” Anastajia collapsed in her seat, clutching at her own forehead. “What was that guy’s deal?!”

Plume shrugged his shoulders, his body still aching from the earlier battle.

“I don’t know, but he’s bad news. He’d give most of the Elders back at the Order a run for their money.”

“Really, Master?! I couldn’t tell! He was about to take my head clean off!” she puffed, angrily, clutching at her forehead.

“We’ve secured the Blade of the Huntress, and that’s what matters for now. We can think about who that was and what he wanted later when we reach Zith.” Plume responded quickly.

“He wanted the Blade, master! I know that!” she interjected. “I could… feel it… Sense it.”

Plume turned his gaze towards her as he engaged the ships autopilot function.

“Sense it?”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” She thrashed her arms around. “When he gazed at me, it felt like something was trying to claw its way through my head and enter my mind. Instead, I was the one who ended up in his… well, for a brief moment.”

“Hmm…” Plume pondered. “Most likely a telepathic attack. Looking for information or trying to get you to drop your guard.”

“It sounds usefu—“

But before she could finish her sentence, Plume stared her down. Anastajia remained silent, switching her gaze back to her console, as if the buttons had suddenly become the most interesting things on this ship.

“Nonetheless, the fact that you resisted that technique speaks wonders of your progress. I’m proud of you.”

Plume smiled and nodded in acknowledgement before turning to face the void once again. Anastajia’s shoulders shuddered lightly, the girl being overjoyed at her masters words.

Their destination… the planet of Zith. Home of the Order of Psion.

 

[crisrko]

“The Blade of the Huntress is the key. Find it, and bring it to me, and I will grant you power unlike the Galaxy has ever seen before.”

Unknown

---

Anastajia
Order of Psion
Zith

A few days had passed since Plume and Anastajia made their escape from Kalealise. On their way back to Zith, they had passed through the Galactic Gateway Network, allowing them to enter the Gamma Quadrant in less than three days, from one end of the galaxy to another.

Zith was a continental planet located on the edge of Dark Space, a few systems away from the edge of the known galaxy. It was colonized by the Order of Psion several hundred years ago, standing watch over the lost areas of space, stopping explorers and artifact thieves from entering the ruined systems of Najaga, Marfark and many others.

Najaga, the haunted resting place of ancients, and a grim reminder of the destruction that can be caused when artifacts such as the Blade of the Hundress are used by powerful psionic beings. To this day, Najaga III lies fractured in the middle of space, its violent dark storms luring explorers and stupid psionics.

“Say, Master Plume…” Anastajia glanced towards the Vissari Psion “when will you finally teach me how to use a conduit?” she asked. “You know. For defense purposes?”

Plume slowly brushed the feathers on his own chin.

"What do you need to wield a weapon for, my child? A conduit will not help you use your powers."

"Defense purposes. Like when that masked freak decided to show up at our ship?"

“You had a plasma pistol, did you not?” he inquired “Which we’ll have to replace when we arrive on Zith, since you lost it.”

Anastajia cringed slightly. “I didn’t exactly lose it. It was more like yank—”

“Yanked away from you?” Plume interrupted. “What difference does it make?”

“I was ca—” she tried to defend herself, but the Vissari would interrupt her once again.

“But you were caught off guard.”

“Can you please stop finishing off my sentences?!”

Anastajia cried out as she leapt to her feet, frustrated by Plume’s attempts to pry her mind open.

“I hate it when you read my mind!”

Plume shrugged slightly, unfazed by her outburst.

“It is part of your training. You must never forget that—”

“A psionic’s greatest strength is its mental fortitude. I know that I get it.” Anastajia cut him off this time.

Plume sighed while the girl sat back down on her seat. The rest of the journey would be a long few silent hours.

---

By the end of the day, Plume and Anastajia docked at the Psionite Academy on Zith. Its tall spires bloated out the sun, and its halls stretched out for several kilometers. What appeared to be a gigantic fortress was really a psionic nexus; a construction over an ancient psionic ritual site used by the precursors to commune with the Shroud.

Surrounding the Academy itself, a sprawling garden, brimming with life. Flora, both native and alien to the planet of Zith stretched out for hundreds of meters. It fed on the energy of the psionic nexus, growing and shrinking as its power fluctuates through the years. In recent years, the garden has expanded to its largest size yet, much to the confusion of the Psions.

Within the garden, a series of statues depicting the initial ten founders of the Order of Psion, from Temegal the Wise, one of the greatest telepaths in the history of the galaxy and the only Netetite Psionite the order had ever seen, to Ahtelas the Betrayer, one of the strongest Grand Psions of the Order.

Ahtelas the Betrayer, as his nickname would imply, ultimately betrayed the Order of Psion, corrupted and empowered by the Shroud. His defeat cost the Order several tens of thousands of lives and millions of other lives within the galactic civilizations, leading to the weakning of the order over the centuries. The statue, a reminder of the failures of their predecessors, and a lesson to all future psionites.

Awaiting Plume and Anastajia on the platform, was a bulky, purple squid like being wearing the decorated robes of the Order. It was a Behrfrang, a species native to the planet of Na-Swe-Shuk.

“Grand Psion Turgal.” Plume called out to him. “It is great seeing you again.”

A loud hum could be heard from the Grand Psion’s mouth.

`Plume of Silver, and his apprentice, Anastajia…` he replied telepathically to our duo `It is great to see you in good health. `

Anastajia slowly dipped her head as the Grand Psion continued to hum.

`I trust that everything went well on Kalealise?` the Grand Psion inquired after retrieving the neutronium case from the two.

“Not quite…” Anastajia replied meekly and quietly. “We were attacked by another psionic.”

“It’s true, Grand Psion. We were ambushed at our shuttle by a sole psionic. He was… strange. He was not interested in conversation and attacked us instead.”

“Nearly took my head off too…” Anastajia muttered.

Turgal remained silent, pondering Plume’s words.

`Tell me more inside, Plume of Silver. Anastajia, you’re free to do as you please for now, but make sure that you are within reach.`

Anastajia bobbed her head in excitement, leaping off the platform and into the gardens below.

`As energetic as ever…` Turgal sighed.

Plume clucked softly.

---

Later that day, within the Grand Psion’s chambers.

`Your story troubles me, Plume of Silver.` Turgal said, pouring the Vissari a cup of tea. It was a vivid blue, characteristic to the plants found on Vissas.

“Frost flowers… I didn’t think we had any left at the Academy, Master.” Plume wallowed in the aroma of the hot drink.

`It is an acquired taste, but I’ve grown to enjoy it. It’s not really popular with our non-Vissari students, though.` Turgal replied, lowering himself onto his cushion.

Plume took a few moments to enjoy the tea, reminiscing of the cold winds of his homeland. He hadn’t been there in a few decades, though he kept in touch with his mother from time to time, if only to hear her voice. Life at the Order of Psion was not entirely easy; besides the usual trials its members face, be it peacekeeping missions or artifact retrieval, it was a very lonely life.

Attachment between members of the Order was forbidden, and though there was no explicit rule against relations with people outside of the Order, there really wasn’t any time for it. Most members carried out their missions then returned to the temple.

“I don’t think he fought us seriously, Master.” Plume said with concern. “I could feel him holding back. It was like he was testing us… Much to my dismay, his raw psionic power was far greater than mine. Very... feral... angry.” Plume stopped just short of finishing his sentence.

`Much like your apprentices?` Turgal would finish it for him.

Plume nodded silently.

`Your apprentice’s raw psionic powers have been unheard of for several generations. She may not be aware of it yet, but her raw energy feeds the life surrounding the temple every time she trains in the Chamber of Meditation.` he would continue on. `I have lived for centuries, yet I have never seen such raw power. Unfortunately... in spite of the training you’ve been doing with her, all of her movements are still wasteful, leaky. If she would learn to control her powers, she would be the greatest psionite our Order had ever seen.`

Plume sighed.

“In spite of what she thinks, she’s progressing swiftly. We’ve not had any incident in months, and she can use her telepathic powers on command. During the battle, she even resisted her mind being pierced through.”

`Interesting. Do you think it was a conscious effort? ` Turgal inquired.

“No. She said as much. It seems her instincts did most of the work for her, subconsciously.”

Plume was visibly concerned with his apprentice’s powers. Psionics are generally more emotional than the normal individual, and they require great mental fortitude and mental tempering to use their powers safely and efficiently. It was not unheard of psionics losing control of their powers and rampaging; and it was exactly this that concerned him. She was volatile.

`Anastajia’s training must continue, Plume of Silver. I don’t think she will ever attain a balance, but we must try, nonetheless. Take her to the Chamber of Meditation.` Turgal instructed, interlocking his tendrils inside his robes sleeves.

“Master, you’re not thinking of—” Plume rose to his feet immediately.

`She must face communion. We will pierce the Shroud, and she will take her first few steps.`

“It’s too soon.” Plume protested, spreading the wings on his back in frustration in defiance towards the Grand Psion.

`You were not much older when you underwent your first communion, Plume.` Turgal replied.

“Nor was I as gifted as her. We don’t know what we will find on the other side this time. She will be like a blinding sun in a sea of darkness.”

`Perhaps. Perhaps not. We know not of what we will find, but we do know that the longer we delay this, the harder it will be for her to progress in the future.`

“You want her to progress?”

Turgal silently rose to his feet.

`If she cannot progress, she will never learn to control her powers. If she cannot control her powers, she risks losing her mind to the Shroud one day. And if she does…`

Plume stiffened.

`If she does, we need to do what we must to ensure the safety of our Order.`

Turgal motioned to the door, causing Plume to slowly stand up to his feet.

`She is practically an adult. I will give her a few more weeks. If she cannot control her powers by then…` Turgal paused for a moment and then sighed. `I do not want to take any radical actions, but if I must, I will. Now go.`

Plume grit his beak, folding his wings.

“By your will, Grand Psion.”

Turning around and visibly frustrated, Plume exited the Grand Psion’s chambers, making his way down the halls.

 

[crisrko]

“A child... Here? Oh my dear child, where are your parents?”

Plume of Silver

---

Anastajia
Order of Psion
Zith

Meanwhile, in the Academy Gardens

‘I missed this place’ Anastajia thought to herself as she walked through the sprawling pathways. ‘It’s so peaceful here.’

It was. This humongous garden, thriving from the raw psionic energies released from the nexus within the Academy, stretched on for hundreds of meters in all directions. Flowers from all over the galaxy sprouted over here, sustained by life force itself.

Terran roses, Vissasi frost flowers, Baoli poppycock and many others. It was a beauty that could rival the floating gardens of Mireesh Mar, the heart of the Imperium, the seat of power of the Mirati.

Anastajia was not alone, however. Other students at the Academy used to meditate within the gardens, preferring the peace and tranquility as opposed to the overbearing atmosphere within the Chamber of Meditation.

Unfortunately for Anastajia, she could never meditate outside of the Chamber; atleast not for the purpose of tempering her powers. She could never draw her psionic powers outside of the Chamber. It was impossible for her; in fact, drawing out her psionic powers in general felt impossible. She could never do it consciously.

As she walked past the statue of Temegal the Wise she could see a young Behrfrang meditating by the base of the construction. Golden whirls of energy surrounded him, as life itself was drawn towards him. Flowers sprouted and small animals gathered around him. It was so… peaceful.

His power felt warm. She could feel it from several meters away. ‘I wish I could do that too.’ Anastajia thought, as she looked down at her hands. She remained still, watching him meditate for a few more moments.

Behrfrangs were very sensitive psionics. Since birth, their psionic abilities were assessed by their planetary governments and children were trained and then inducted in their national defense forces. Trained for military purposes, the Behrfrangs were some of the most powerful psionics in the Galaxy; fortunately, their typically pacifist nature meant that the purpose of their training was just defensive, to ensure the continued safety and stability of the Behrfrang government.

This edict could not extend to Behrfrangs outside of the Core Behrfrang Worlds however, so the decision to assess and train the offsprings typically fell on the family. Sure, there were programs that reached out to those families, and heavy investments were made to use these programs to bring the families back to Behrfrang territory, but sometimes it didn’t work out. Orphans, for example, often found themselves educated since an early age by the Order of Psion, while less lucky ones were taken in by mercenary forces or even pirates.

After all, a psionic warrior, well trained or not, was easily worth a few dozen, maybe hundreds of non-psionic warriors.

Anastajia exhaled slowly and lowered herself to the ground, facing towards the Behrfrang. Slowing down her breath and closing her eyes, she assumed the meditative position that Plume had taught her years ago. If this Behrangi child could interact with the world like this, maybe she could copy what he’s doing?

A few moments passed. Then a few more minutes. It was like every other time, she could not enter the trance outside of the Chamber. She was frustrated, clenching her fists with all her strength.

‘Come on’, she pleaded. ‘Come on!’

As her frustration rose, unbeknownst to her, the ground surrounding her began to tremble. A rumbling in the air as the grass and flowers surrounding her began to shake as if within the heart of a tempest. It was like a raging torrent surrounding her. Her pulse heightened, as she began to breathe frantically.

‘I can do it.’ she thought to herself.

Slowly but surely, this tempest began to spread wider. It was no longer directly surrounding her, but it grew to cover a few meters in all directions. Its intensity slowly grew; it was so strong it ripped out the flowers and split the ground. It was so strong that it snapped the young Behrfrang out of his meditation.

He began humming frantically as he stared at the young woman in front of him. The intensity of the tempest began to rise once more; his telepathy could not reach her for any reason. The circle grew larger again.

`What are you doing?! Hey! You need to stop before your power gets out of control!` the young one cried out.

As the psionic energies rippled through the air, more apprentices and even teachers started gathering at their location. Anastajia could hear their voices gathering, but she could not make any sense of it. Everything was either muffled or distorted as an image of an endless plain started to form in front of her. For miles upon miles, there was nothing in front of her, but a fiery visage. Sprawling cities came and went, engulfed by endless spheres of purple fire.

‘What… is this?’ she asked herself, as she stared in horror at the destruction laid bare before her.

The scenery shifted immediately to the planet of Zith. In the sky, a dozen jet black Battleships fired indiscriminately upon the Academy, while countless black and white shadows fought on the ground; nothing she could really make sense of.

‘The temple!’ she exclaimed frantically before the scenery shifted once more.

It was now the chamber of the Grand Psion; but this time she could recognize the ones inside. Her master, Plume of Silver and the Grand Psion Turgal were locked into a battle with a mysterious figure. Blow for blow, the figure matched every attack unleashed by the duo, as if dancing and toying with them as it slowly forced them into the large halls of the Academy. Not a single wasteful movement.

Plume and Turgal were at a visible disadvantage; and the mysterious figure pressed on as it slowly grew tired of the engagement, closing the distance between them rippling through the air. Within a moment, it stood before Turgal; and the old Behrfrang could not react in time. It was like time itself froze for Turgal and Plume. An enormous concentration of psionic energy took shape around the figures arm, transforming into a blade of pure energy.

Anastajia gasped in horror as the Grand Psion collapsed to the ground, bissected.

“Master Turgal!” Plume cried out; but it was too late. In a flash, the attacker disappeared and reappeared behind him. Enveloping himself in a thick layer of psionic energy, Plume could barely withstand his blow before being sent flying into the wall by the sheer power of the strike; his shield dissipating as he crashed into the concrete.

Anastajia writhed desperately, unable to move, as the attacker slowly walked over to her master.

Plume exhaled peacefully, relaxing his muscles as the figure stood in front of him. Slowly, he extended his hand forward, dotingly caressing the face before him while Anastajia shook and screamed hopelessly from the side, unable to intervene. Plume lowered his hand before the figure struck with a downwards strike.

A blinding flash erupted, snapping her back to reality.

“Aah?!” she cried out frantically, exhausted by what she just witnessed. Even though she hadn’t fully regained her senses, she could feel everyone surrounding her, watching her. She grit her teeth bitterly, when the young Behrfrang from earlier knelt by her side.

`Are you alright?` he asked her as his lips emitted a soft hum. `You don’t look too good.`

Anastajia nodded slowly and remained silent. Her breathing eventually returned to normal and she pushed herself up to her feet, stumbling on the way up; thankfully, the young molluscoid was there to catch her on the way up.

“Have you nothing better to do? Return to your studies.” And “Make way!” could be heard from the back of the gathering. Plume too appears to have felt the psionic energies released in the garden and made his way towards their source. Upon sighting Anastajia, he exhaled and stared at her in concern. She would not meet his gaze, instead staring into the ground.

Approaching slowly, Plume placed his hands on her shoulders and gripped them lightly.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. I’m going to see Psion Zhuul.” She replied, still avoiding his gaze.

“Alright. Have her check you out. I’ll come in a moment as well.”

Anastajia departed, her hands in her pockets and her gaze still following the ground.

A few minutes passed since then and the crowd had dispersed. Grand Psion Turgal eventually joined Plume and the young Behrfrang in the garden to assess the situation.

`What in the name of Psion happened here…?` Turgal asked, staring at the now burnt circle of grass and flowers opposite to the statue of Temegal the Wise; the hum of his tendrils now much graver than ever before.

Plume remained silent but nodded to the young Behrfrang.

`It was a human girl, Grand Psion. Anastajia, I believe. She… I don’t know. I believe she attempted actually managed to initiate communion.` he explained.

Turgal’s tendrils curled up and writhed violently.

`Communion? Don’t be ridiculous. An apprentice to initiate a communion? Here? Its unheard of.`

But Plume then replied.

“It’s not impossible. At least not for her, Master.”

Plume stepped forward into the circle and kneeled. He grabbed a fistful of ash, running it through his claws.

“But I never expected this. An affinity for fire.”

Turgal suddenly turned towards the young Behrfrang and latched his tendrils onto his shoulders.

`You. Ebthos, was it?` The young apprentice shook his head affirmatively. `Are you sure she attempted to initiate a communion?`

`I don’t know! It looked like it, at least! I was meditating when I awoke to… to… to that! Whirls of psionic energy! It was like a raging tempest, extending in a circle for several feet around her… Hot… so hot… I thought it would dry out all the moisture in my body.` the young one explained. `Then… the flames… they crackled. It was like there was lightning inside the tempest. She… I don’t know. She looked in pain. She kept pleading for something to stop… By the end of it, a whirl of pure violet energy materialized, and as it materialized, it burned everything within the circle and extinguished itself... It felt like something was going to swallow me whole... then when you appeared, the feeling disappeared.`

`I see… Return to the academy. We’ll come and join the rest of you later. Now go.`

Ebthos nodded and bowed his head to Grand Psion Turgal before turning around immediately for the Academy. Plume let out a deep, heavy sigh while Turgal hummed gravely.

`In the old texts, they talk about the different forms one’s powers can take shape. Strong psionics can use pyrokinesis… electrokinesis… cyrokinesis is not unheard of either. Some of the strongest ones could even use novakinesis, or, manipulate matter itself.`

Plume crossed his arms, somewhat confused at what the Grand Psion was getting at.

`But pyrokinesis could have different scales to intensity. Like normal flames, the hotter the fire, it goes from red… to orange… eventually going as far as reaching blue or white. I'll give you an analogy. Dark energy, the energy produced by harnessing black matter glows green. It’s an infernal heat. And yet, at least one Empire that we know of reached further beyond. Something that noone thought was possible.`

“The Mirati Imperium?”

Turgal nodded.

`Indeed. Somehow, their technology allows their processing of dark energy to produce a blue hue, far more potent than what’s used by the rest of the Galaxy. ‘Alpha Technology’, as they call it.`

“I don’t understand what this has to do with the ancient texts.”

`In the ancient texts, there are tales of psionic warriors producing such pure, virulent energy that it could sometimes physically materialize. We, psionics, see it innately. But a non-psionic would probably never see it coming. Their brains cannot process it in time.` Turgal explained. `Similarly, the power of their energy had different colors… They could not really explain it. They suppose that the extraplanar power of the Shroud itself bends the laws of our reality. Something like that.`

Plume frowned with visible distress. Today, such feats of psionic power are uncommon, though not unheard of. In the Imperium, their Order produces phenomenal psionics, far stronger on average than the Psionic Order. Thankfully, they have appeared to have no interest in waging war upon the galaxy because no one could be able to stop them. Besides them, it was only the Human Empire that produced such psionic monsters.

`Breaching the shroud, the scholars theorized, what if somewhere, even stronger energy can be found? A degree of power that is ever-present in the deepest crevices of the Shroudplane?` Turgal asked, somewhat rhetorically.

“What, do you mean ‘Shroudfire’? The ever-burning purple fire fields of the Shroud? That’s insane, Master.” Plume denied his theory on the spot.

“Surely you’re not suggesting that her psionic powers are so strong that they could materialize Shroudfire. Pyrokinesis, sure, but to such an extent?”

`I’m not suggesting anything. I am merely recounting ancient information. Maybe I’m reading too hard into this.` Turgal shrugged his shoulders `Either way, I’ve changed my mind. She cannot attempt communion inside the Temple. I won’t allow that thing inside the energy nexus.`

Plume visibly tensed as Turgal pondered. He pondered, and pondered, staring in silence at the statue of Temegal.

`She cannot continue her training on Zith.` Plume’s heart sank as the anvil dropped. Turgal continued. `She is a threat to the very safety of the students of this academy, and perhaps all of us.`

Slowly but steadily, the air surrounding the old Grand Psion began to ripple and crackle, materializing a whirl of psionic energy. Plume gulped as he began to visibly shake.

`Perhaps I should nip it in the bud right now.`

However, in a moment, the Vissasi took a step forward, unleashing his own psionic energy.

`Really? You would defy me, my old apprentice?` Turgal spoke out to him softly. ‘You still plead for her given what you have seen? You do know, deep down, that neither of us is equipped to deal with this.`

Plume remained silent and steadfast. A few more moments passed. At this sight, Turgal just gave up, restraining his aura. Plume followed suit, before bowing to his master.

“Thank you… Master Turgal.”

`No. Do not thank me yet. I will offer you a compromise. ` Turgal approached him silently before placing his tendrils on his shoulder. `Seek out Idrithel.`

Plume froze for a second. “Idrithel? Are you sure? She’s returned to Mireesh Mar many years ago. She wanted nothing more to do with the order.”

`If there’s someone who could help her train these powers, it’s her. She’s similar to her, in many ways.`

“But… would she accept?”

`She will. Tell her that I will owe her a favor. Now go, and take the girl with you.`

Plume nodded resolutely and turned around to make his way to the Academy.

`Plume!` Turgal called out to him. `Remember. She was once one of us, but now she is the leader of the Order of Ecclesia. She’s a faithful follower of the Empress. Keep that in mind.`

“I will keep that in mind.” Plume answered, slowly disappearing from his sight.

`You do that… for that’s the only thing you can do.`

---

Inside the Temple’s infirmary…

“You should be fine now, my dear.” the woman said softly. “It’s merely exhaustion, it’ll pass with some rest.”

Anastajia climbed to her feet, stretching out her arms and legs.

“Thank you, Psion.” she bowed her head. “I already feel better.”

The woman smiled. “Very well then. Go on, git.” and she waved her off.

Anastajia exited into the halls, where Plume was already waiting for her.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

Anastajia nodded silently.

“Great.” Plume continued. “Pack up your things, we’re heading to Mireesh Marr.”

“Mireesh Marr?!” she exclaimed. “That’s the capital of the Imperium, isn’t it?” she frowned. “Isn’t that place like, super dangerous? Is it a mission?”

Plume sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re not going on a mission, my dear apprentice.” Plume explained. “We’re going to Idrithrel.”

Anastajia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Idrithrel? Who’s that?”

“Hmm… I’m not surprised you don’t know her. She used to be a Psion.” Plume replied. “Long ago, before I took you in.”

“Used to?” she inquired. “I thought… I thought the Order is like, a permanent sort of deal.”

Well. Not quite. Leaving the order wasn’t entirely uncommon, certainly not in the latest generations. It’s somewhat different for Psions, however. After decades in the Order, those veritable forces of nature wouldn’t be let go so easily to just wander the Galaxy.

Plume grimaced slightly, visibly uncomfortable.

“It’s… complicated. Look. She’s an old friend of the Master Turgal… and she’s probably one of the strongest psionites in the Galaxy. She’s also… like you, Anastajia.”

Anastajia stared down at her hands. “Like me?”

“Sort of. Look. If anyone’s going to be able to help you with your powers, it’s going to be her.” Plume cut her off quickly. “So, coming with?”

Anastajia clenched her fists, a determined look in her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go… To Mireesh Mar.”

 

[crisrko]

“I have slain my father, Emperor Vaklan, and seized the Eternal Throne. Your empress commands you. Cease all hostilities."

Kryszorwyn Larian, Empress of the Mirati Imperium

---

Mireesh Marr. The ancient home of the Imperium and the seat of power of the Mirati civilization. A psigifted civilization of humanoids that closely resemble humans. Unlike humans, the Mirati can naturally live up to six hundred years, though advancements in medical technology has increased their life expectancy to over eight hundred.

Mirati share many physical features to that of the human species, though one of their most characteristic features would be their sharp, elongated ears and natural affinity for the Shroud. Scholars theorize that the Mirati and Humans share a common ancestor, but the two species diverged at some point in history.

While Humans historically produced several strong psionics, those powers are nowhere near as widespread through the wider population. All Miratis have an innate pull towards the Shroud and are extremely sensitive to psionic forces, even if untrained and their powers dormant.

This close connection to the Shroud and long lifespan has allowed them to build the strongest Empire that the Galaxy had ever seen. At the height of the Coalition War, the Mirati entered the war and turned the tide against the rampant Human Empire.

Gifting their knowledge of Dark Matter Technology to the other races, the Coalition ultimately succeeded in driving the Human Empire back to Kni’thokon and set it ablaze.

Colossi the size of planets reigned fire and destruction upon the Star Throne, shattering the station into the abyss. With its destruction, the Human Empire splintered into hundreds of pieces, the planets ultimately absorbed by the larger alien nations.

Rumors appeared that the fiercest royal loyalists retreated into the Dark Space, but it is mere canteena chatter.

Ultimately, Mireesh Marr was acknowledged as the strongest power within the Galaxy. As a result, some elements of the Mirati society called for their emperor, Vaklan Larian, to embark on galactic conquest, and as the galaxy edged towards the fire once again, something unimaginable happened.

On Mireesh Marr, a blazing fast coup d’etat happened, as the daughter of Emperor Larian, Crown-Princess Kryszorwyn Larian, killed her father before the proclamation of war, sparking perhaps the shortest-lived civil war in the history of the Galaxy. Forces of the Praetorian Guard stormed the Imperial palace with the help of the Order of Ecclesia and engaged the Crown-Princess’s forces.

Details are scarce and varied, from people who claim to have seen the events unfold, and information leaked by different intelligence agencies throughout the galaxy; but there is one thing in common. Crown-Princess Kryszorwyn single handedly defeated her father and his guard, before forcefully submitting the rest of the Ecclesian forces. Emperor Larian was, perhaps, the strongest psionic in the Galaxy at that time, and he and his guard were slain by his daughter.

After this incident, Kryszorwyn ascended as Empress and pulled back all Mirati forces to the Imperium’s territories and enacted a policy of peace and diplomacy. This was, of course, all surface value. In reality, the Imperium was slowly established as the galactic hegemon and the de facto leading political authority. Most conflicts are now mediated by the Imperium, and thus galactic wars are extremely rare… and should they get out of control, the Imperium would intervene.

In addition, the Order of Ecclesia was repurposed. It was now directly under the command of the Empress, and they were the tools and limbs with which she operated outside of state diplomacy, and in some cases, the legal framework of the Imperium. It has a far more militaristic outlook on matters; members being trained in combat from a very young age, both in unarmed and in armed combat. Unlike the psionites, who fear the idea of using psionic weapons as it intensifies their connection, and thus their susceptibility to the Shroud, the ecclesians make use of psionic blades and artifacts to enhance their combat abilities. It is an order of warriors, not of peacekeepers.

Scholars, telepaths, warriors, admirals; the Order of Ecclesia trains the most gifted Mirati from birth and prepares them for their duties in the service of the Empress, for she is the true state. She is the Mirati Imperium itself.

---

Anastajia
Order of Psion
Mireesh Marr

A week has passed since Plume and Anastajia departed from Zith. After rejoining the Galactic Gateway Network and making a few stops for supplies at varying spaceports, the two have finally arrived in Mireesh Marr.

“It’s nothing like I thought it would look like.” The girl remarked. “An eerie duroconcrete cage.”

“They call it a Void Sphere… It’s… think of it as a more advanced ecumenopolis.” Plume explained.

“What exactly makes it more advanced, master?” she asked. “It looks like a haunted ecumenopolis to me.”

Plume chuckled lightly.

“The Mirati are masters at manipulating dark matter. They’ve succeeded in harnessing the powers of black holes and creating something called dark energy.” he continued to explain “I don’t exactly understand the specifics, but it’s par for the course given that they are the ones who have bestowed dark energy reactors upon the galaxy.”

“And they’ve applied it to the world itself?” she asked incredulously.

“Apparently. Everything in their society functions with dark matter. It’s essentially an endless resource.”

“And Idrithrel is… down there? You still haven’t explained to me who she really is, Plume.”

“Turgal’s peer, and one of my former masters.” He replied.

“Your former master?!” Anastajia exclaimed. “I thought Grand Psion Turgal was your master!”

“He was. It’s no understatement to say that he was my master, but it was Idrithrel who asked him to take me in.”

“I don’t understand. Did he take you in when Idrithrel left the Order?”

Plume nodded.

“Idrithrel and Turgal were the candidates for the role of Grand Psion at the time. Both of them, incredibly strong psionics, though between me and you, I think that in a fight, Idrithrel would have wiped the floor with him.” Plume raised one of his claws, motioning the girl to shush, much to her amusement.

“Well, they also had very different ideologies. Turgal believed, and still does, that our powers are only meant for maintaining the peace and self-defense.”

“And she didn’t?” she butted in.

“Idrithrel thought that the Order should take a more proactive approach towards maintaining the peace. Turgal would prefer us to be diplomats, while she would have had us strike down any dangerous upstarts, pirates, the lot.” Plume continued as he engaged the ships autopilot mode. “When it came down to the vote of the Council of Psions, Idrithrel lost, and ultimately chose to leave the Order. No one really knows what caused her abrupt change of heart.”

Plume’s eyes gave a hint of sadness.

“I see…”

It was a long trip down.

---

A sea of steel and concrete would probably be the most apt description of the planet itself. Skyscrapers dwarfed all the ‘natural’ features present on the surface, be it artificially created mountains or lakes. None of the original features of the planets remained, destroyed to make way for the initial construction of the ecumenopolis.

A series of gigantic orbital mirrors reflected the warmth and light of Mireesh Mar down to the surface of the planet. Huge pipelines traversed the surface to carry water and other liquid substances across the massive cityscape that encases the surface of the planet. Eerie blue smoke and lights permeate the sky, a byproduct of the usage of dark energy on all the levels of the planet.

Upon exiting the spaceport, Anastajia pondered in wonder at the sheer effort it must have taken to create such a technological marvel. She understood from Plume that the city was encased in concrete, but she thought of it as an exaggeration. Looking around her, everything seemed artificial; constructions meant to reproduce at least some of what she thought to be the ‘native’ features of the planet.

“It is truly one of the Galaxy’s greatest wonders, is it not?”

An unknown voice spoke out to her. It was a tall, slender Mirati woman wearing an intricate black robe with golden inlays. Between her movements, the wind exposed a pitch black armor beneath. On her waist dangled a long crimson blade with a pitch-black leather hilt. Her fair features and silky skin would probably make most men fall in love at the mere sight of her.

“You must be Anastajia.” she called out to her as she slowly approached.

Standing face to face, she was probably a head or two taller than her. Anastajia looked up to her and nodded.

‘She must be Idrithrel’ she thought to herself.

Her lips curled into a smile, and she nodded, before switching her gaze towards Plume.

“And you, Plume. You’ve really grown, haven’t you?” she asked, bemused by her former, albeit for a very short time, apprentice. “You look nothing like the hatchling I left in Turgal’s care.”

“I could say the very same of you, Master Idrithrel. You’ve grown far more beautiful and stronger than I remember.”

Amused, Idrithrel shielded her mouth with her hand and let out a quiet laugh.

“Silver-tongued as always.” she noted. “Have you had a safe journey?”

“We have.” Plume replied.

“It’s the safest journey we’ve ever had, if anything. We haven’t seen a single pirate ship within two dozen systems.” Anastajia added.

Idrithrel nodded lightly.

“Our empire prides itself on the safety we ensure our people. Come on then, I’m a busy woman. We’ll talk on the way to Ecclesia. It’s not that far from here.”

And the three of them started to make their way to the temple.

---

“So how is that old squid doing?” Idrithrel inquired. “Still preaching pacifism and emotional immaturity?”

Anastajia took a quick glance in the direction of her master; his eyebrows furrowed, visibly irked by the woman’s question.

“Master Turgal preaches balance, my lady. Psionites are not warriors, they’re peacekeepers.”

Idrithrel sighed.

“Warriors and peacekeepers are not mutually exclusive, hatchling.” she explained. “And do not dare say to me that his fearful rambles talk of balance. You psionites fear the Shroud.”

Idrithrel shook her head before lowering her shoulders in acceptance. Plume did not give into her provocations and remained silent, though Anastajia could feel a shift in her masters mood.

“So, why do you need me, exactly, Plume?” she asked.

“Anastajia cannot control her powers. Nay… She cannot invoke her powers consciously. At least not the bulk of them.” Plume explained. “She has all the relevant sensibilities; she can feel subtle changes in energy, even has feats of precognition, but she cannot materialize any psionic energy.” He continued. “Not consciously.”

"I'm sorry, Plume, but I fail to see how this concerns me." she replied curtly.

"We need your help... She needs your help." Plume paused. "I'm here to ask you to help her."

Idrithrel exhaled loudly as she cupped her hands behind her back. A few brief moments of silence.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific than that, my dear boy.” Idrithrel replied, a hint of frustration in her words.

Plume sighed, uncomfortable with the girls presence. Anastajia herself remained silent.

“When we retrieved an artifact from the Taufaeans we were attacked by an unknown psionic. We engaged in a brief battle.”

“Ho?” Idrithrel turned around to face him. “Did the great Psion of the Order win?”

Plume scoffed: “It was a draw. That’s not the point.” He replied, much to her annoyance. “He could match me blow for blow; he was a stronger psionic than me, all things considered.”

“But?”

“But I don’t think he wanted to kill me.” Plume clarified. “Instead, it felt like he was more wary of her than me. To my understanding, he even attempted to prod at her mind… but failed.”

“Interesting.”

Plume nodded. “She resisted without even knowing. She described it as—”

“Like a headache”. Anastajia chimed in.

“That.”

“Peculiar. Either your child here is extremely resistant to telepathic attacks, or your assailant was too weak.” Idrithrel pondered. “And you say she never managed to summon any psionic energy?”

“Not that I know of.” Anastajia answered.

Plume sighed. “There was an incident at the Academy, when she unknowingly attempted a communion.”

Idrithrel stopped in her tracks.

“Unknowingly? Are you saying she initiated it by herself?” the woman gravely asked while looking at the young girl. “Has she manifested any other powers?”

Plume remained silent for a few moments before replying.

“Pyrokinesis. Electrokinesis…”

Plume paused for a moment. Idrithrel pressed on however.

“Out with it.”

“Cyrokinesis and telekinesis.”

Idrithrel whistled.

“Is she a gacha character?” she asked.

Plume was unamused.

“I’m more concerned about the extent of her pyrokinetic powers. And so is Master Turgal.”

“In what way?” Idrithrel asked.

“Her flames were… unlike anything we have seen at the Academy in a while. Violet… even dark, purple flames.”

Anastajia looked at the two, somewhat confused by their stern demeanor.

Idrithrel took notice of her reaction and rested her hand on her forehead, exhaling loudly in visible frustration.

“This is part of why I left the Order.” She complained. “Shunning powers like these due to a simple lack of understanding. I’m frankly surprised Turgal even let her off the planet if he’s even thinking of what you're alluding to.”

Anastajia continued to turn her head between the two, visibly confused.

“I will teach you how to draw onto your powers, my dear girl.” Idrithrel solemnly declared. “And if I can’t do that, then I will just force them out of you, one way or another.”

 

[crisrko]

“Ours is the power of the Shroud Gods themselves. As we deepen our connection with the Shroud, our powers grow... Let this be a lesson to all of you. Denying the Shroud does nothing but weaken you."

Ahtelas, Grand Psion of the Old Psionic Order

---

Anastajia
Order of Psion
Mireesh Marr

Temple of Ecclesia; the home of the Order with the same name; the strongest order of psionics within the known galaxy.

A massive structure that soared over a kilometer beyond any of the surrounding rooftops that held the shape of a ziggurat. A place where the finest psionics within the Imperium trained to serve the Empress Kryszorwyn Larian and the rest of the Imperial family.

Deep within the structure lays the central spire, a towering construction built on top of an ancient nexus of psionic energy, said to date back to the first King of Miresh, over a hundred thousand years back.

The Ziggurat itself was separated from the rest of the city by an array of xentronium statues depicting the ancient psionic kings of the planet, as well as the more recent members of the Imperial family; the late Emperor Vaklan Larian and his daughter, the current Empress Kryszorwyn Larian. Both had been trained at the very same Ziggurat and both are said to have held immense psionic powers.

Empress Kryszorwyn had been trained by Idrithrel herself a hundred years ago and is said to have already bested her former master by her fiftieth birthday, asserting her position as perhaps the strongest psionic since ancient times.

Beyond her and her father’s statue lays the only entrance to the immense complex surrounding the Ziggurat. An immense gate built out of hard-light materials, a special alloy created by imbuing neutronium with dark energy; on each side, a xentronium pylon with golden inlays, a symbol of the prestige and wealth of the institution.

It has been a few days since Anastajia and Plume had arrived at the Temple. Despite Idrithrel’s best efforts, she had been unable to help the girl draw out her true powers. Traditional training methods did not bear fruit, and the frustration of the Mirati Grand Executor grew larger by the day. It was clear that radical action needed to be taken in order to overcome the mental barrier inside Anastajia.

“Stop fearing your powers, Anastajia!” Idrithrel shouted to the girl as she unleashed two psionic blasts in her direction. “Everytime you manage to channel any speck of psionic energy, you just shut down.”

Anastajia skillfully avoided the two blasts before trying to gather a whirl of psionic energy in her hands. The ground rumbled violently for a moment, but she was ultimately unable to summon her powers, the energy dissipating into her surroundings.

Idrithrel noticed this failure and pressed on with her attack, unleashing an unescapable flurry of blasts, sending the girl crashing into the training chamber’s wall.

“Gahk.” she cried out in pain as she collapsed to the ground.

“You’re being sent flying and crashing everywhere, but you’re still afraid of defending yourself. Are you afraid of harming me?” Idrithrel groaned out in frustration and approached the young girl, gathering energy at the tip of her hands.

Anastajia looked up at the woman towering above her and wiped the sweat and blood off her forehead, materializing a thin red shield of psionic energy as she braced for her instructor’s onslaught.

Left, right, left, right; Idrithrel began pounding at the girls shield, psionic energy violently dispersing into their surroundings as their two powers collided.

“That’s it. Finally, I see you summoning a shield! Use your powers you damned idiot!” she screamed. “Your body is channeling the energy in order to preserve itself! And yet you dismiss it!” she exclaimed before ultimately breaking the thin shield and kicking the girl.

Anastajia was sent flying towards the other side of the chamber, crashing through the decorative pylons. Debris and sharp shards of marble flew everywhere, slashing through her armor.

Her world was spinning. That last blow almost knocked her out cold. Her entire body ached as she stared at Idrithrel closing the distance between the two once again.

“From the first day... I told you that if I have to then I’ll beat your powers out of you.” she said. “Are you a damn masochist? How much longer do you want this to take?” she asked, before summoning a whirlwind of crimson psionic energy around her right arm.

Idrithrel bent forward, grabbing the girl by throat and threw her into the air, unleashing the blast of raw energy square into her center mass. Anastajia gasped for air as her back crashed against the wall, trapping her body in the rubble.

“It’s enough! Enough! You're going to kill her!”

Plume rushed forward to the girl as he screamed out to his former master.

“She won’t be able to take any more. It’s enough. You can’t pull her powers out like that!”

Plume was visibly distraught, the intensity of his aura fluctuating wildly. Idrithrel looked at him with a mix of disappointment and frustration before explaining:

“If her powers won’t come out due to her fears, then it will have to come out due to the body’s instinct for self-preservation.” Idrithrel sighed. “Your girl here is extremely resilient. I’ll give you that; whatever you’ve done to train her, you’ve done extremely well.”

“I won’t let you harm her any further, Idrithrel. This isn't working. Just look at her!”

“Plume…” Idrithrel exasperated. “You are the one who came to me for help, because whatever you and your Order did until now did not work. I understand that we have conflicting ideologies, but even you are aware of the basic principles behind psionic manifestation. Pain. Intense emotion. Fear. It's evident that something is holding her back. I don't know what it is, but that 'lid' needs to be blown off.”

Plume shook his head and spread his wings wide, assuming a combat stance. Idrithrel chuckled under her breath at her former apprentice’s commitment. Anastajia grumbled in pain while staring at Plume.

Idrithrel rubbed her chin softly before visibly grinning and stretching her shoulders.

“You know what, Plume? Fine. We’ll do it this way.”

Plume furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you—” but Idrithrel disappeared from his sight. Plume immediately surrounded himself with his wings to protect himself and materialized a psionic shield around him. Within a fraction of a second, Idrithrel sent him flying into the air.

A large psionic bolt rippled through the air following him immediately.

“You want to fight her battles forever? Fine then!” she roared out before launching herself into the air.

Plume immediately bounced off the roof and went flying straight into Idrithrel, striking her in the chest and sending her into the floor. An immense dust cloud gathered around the point of impact just as he had lowered himself to ground level.

Within the cloud of dust, Idrithrel’s shadow appeared, the old master flicking any pieces of debris off her clothes. It didn’t look like she had taken any physical damage, but her robes were tattered; she dropped them to reveal the violet armor beneath.

“Please stop this immediately, Idrithrel. I don’t want to continue fighting you.” Plume declared.

Idrithrel shook her head lightly. “Maybe you don't…” as she lunged forward. “But you’ll have to!”

Plume grit his beak and struck her down, but just as his claws made contact, her shape dispersed into a cloud of psionic residue.

“So long as you fight her battles for her, you will have to fight! Me!”

She struck him violently with a fully charged psionic blast into the gut from point blank range. Plume guffawed as he was launched into the air.

“And if it’s not me… It will be Turgal. It will be an Executioner from Eclessia or maybe Kalealise… Maybe it’ll even be some random shroud cultist smelling blood!”

Idrithrel pressed on, unrelenting. In a mere moment, she closed the distance between them, jumping above him and blasting him into the ground and trapping him beneath the rubble.

"Do you know what this galaxy does to psionics that go out of control? It puts them down! Like rabid animals!"

Plume tethered in and out of consciousness as Idrithrel slowly approached him.

“Is this the extent of today’s Psions, Plume? I am thoroughly disappointed.” she goaded him. “What sort of bullshit is Turgal training you in? Behrfrangi literature and calligraphy? Hardly could even call this a fight. Psions call themselves warrior-scholars, but I only see the scholar.”

Plume’s vision was hazy at best. Intense pain rang through his head, causing his body to go limp. The last thing he could see was his former master drawing out her crimson sword.

---

Anastajia watched in horror as Idrithrel brutally wasted her master. Her entire body cried out in pain as she tried to free herself from the rubble.

‘Please stop!’ she cried out as she watched Idrithrel send Plume deep into the pile of rubble. Slowly and steadily, the Mirati woman approached, eventually towering above him. She could see Idrithrel say something to him, but she could not hear her; that last strike must have blown out one of her eardrums. She felt terribly out of balance.

As Idrithrel reached towards her crimson sword, Anastajia’s pulse rose rapidly, violently struggling to free herself from the rubble.

‘I’m coming! Master! Plume! No!’ but Idrithrel unsheathed her crimson sword. ‘NO! NO! NO!’

She could not move. She could not do anything.

Once again, she would fail.

Plume will die because of her.

A single whisper echoed in her mind before everything faded to the black.

“Do you wish to save him?”

---

‘I didn’t really think I’d have to go this far.’ Idrithrel thought to herself. ‘I dispatched him with more ease than I would’ve thought. Turgal has truly weakened the Psionic Order.’

Really, she was initially going to beat some more sense into Anastajia first, but her former apprentice decided to intervene Anastajia was extremely resilient, even if neither her nor her master realized it. It's probably something to do with her innate powers. But, it was an opportune moment to see what sort of man Plume became. When she first picked him up on Viss, he was an extremely shy hatchling, always hiding behind her.

She didn’t really mean any of her insults. Deep down, she really did care about him. Given his weaker affinity to the Shroud, it’s a wonder that he made it this far. Vissari aren’t strong psionics, they never have been. And yet, he made it as far as a Psion of the Order. However, she could never shake the thought of what he could’ve been if she was allowed to train him.

Anastajia, on the other hand, was different. She spent days trying to teach her how to channel her psionic powers but no matter the approach, it never worked. By now, she was too old to really learn how to use her powers through conventional means. Years in the temple, and this is all they could have achieved. It was a pure disservice to this girl. Almost two decades of training, and they could barely teach her how to control the most basic psionic abilities.

She thought to herself of how Turgal is just as ruthless as her. For the current members of the Psionic Order, Turgal may appear a sage, but this is the man who cunningly took control of the Order. If push came to shove, he would remove any threat to the Order itself. Fact that this girl lived so long without being able to control her abilities is a testament to the lengths Plume went to ensure her safety.

Oh Anastajia. If normal training will not work, then perhaps extreme emotional distress might work. Idrithrel was confident she could subdue any psionic outburst if push come to shove. She was, after all, one of the strongest psionics in the galaxy, and no matter the girl’s raw potential, she would be unable to beat her. She was the leader of the Order of Ecclesia, an untrained psionic could never hold a candle to her, even if in a rampage.

Idrithrel drew her blade and set herself above her former apprentice. She could feel that the girl’s aura began to change violently. It was intense, but it was just that, intensity. Psionic energy responds to intense emotions. It was no rampage yet; she would’ve broken free from the rubble if it was.

She turned towards the girl, watching her struggle desperately to free herself from her stony prison. With the flick of her wrist, she turned her blade’s tip to the ground, holding her blade in a reverse grip.

‘Almost there…’

Idrithrel mocked the girl, before bringing the blade towards Plume’s throat in a single, swift, moment… or so she intended, as a raging psionic tempest shot towards her from the other side of the chamber. It was close, but the masterful Idrithrel dodged it gracefully. With a quick glance, she identified the source of the blast. It was the girl, finally having freed herself.

A rampaging, violet psionic storm surrounded her. Her immediate surroundings were being distorted by the powers as they slowly stabilized, a purple hue giving Anastajia an eerie contour. Her eyes were now glowing a brilliant violet.

Idrithrel tilted her head to the side, somewhat stunned by the scene.

‘I see. So, this is what Plume meant.’ She thought to herself.

A small bead of sweat dripped down her forehead, before being noticed by Idrithrel.

‘I’m… sweating?’ she asked herself, while staring at the girl.

Anastajia readied herself, the psionic energy around her growing larger by the moment. What was before a peaceful contour expanded in all directions, before once again dimming. Like a flame in the wind, the psionic energies surrounding her were scattering in all directions. What was previously a tempest turned into a whirlwind surrounding her entire body.

“That is truly a nice aura you have there, my dear girl. I have to say…” Idrithrel pointed down at Plume. “You really made me work for it, didn’t you?”

Taking a few steps to the side, Idrithrel readied her blade and assumed a combative stance.

Anastajia did not respond, instead just taking a few steps forward towards Idrithrel. As she did so, her wounds slowly started healing.

‘Hyper regeneration? When Plume said she’s a bottomless pit of psionic energy, he really meant it.’

Psionic hyper regeneration was an ability that allowed the user to expend their psionic energy to stabilize and even heal wounds. A very strong psionic is generally hard to kill for this simple reason, they can internally stabilize fatal wounds. But it is an extremely costly ability, and a last resort. Most psionics cannot afford the energy consumption needed to maintain this for a prolonged time or an extensive list of wounds like hers.

‘Hmm…’ Idrithrel thought to herself as she channeled some psionic energy into the tip of her blade, before slashing the air horizontally to unleash a psionic cut in her direction. Much to her immediate surprise, the girl swatted away the blast, diverting it towards the wall, causing part of it to blow out.

“Hmm?” Idrithrel was surprised. “Very well! Come on, Anastajia! Show me more!” unleashing another flurry of slashes from distance.

In that moment, Anastajia’s visage flickered, parrying the cuts one by one, then lunging forward as she enveloped her legs with psionic energy. Idrithrel parried her blow, furrowing her brows for a moment, before sending the young girl flying back on her feet. A sense of dread enveloped Idrithrel.

‘Is my mind playing games?’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s no way—”

But Anastajia lunged forward once again, striking her with her fists. With each parried strike, the intensity and speed of her attacks increased, causing Idrithrel to put some distance between the two and unleash a devastating psionic blast into her direction.

Anastajia caught the brunt of the attack, being sent flying through one of the pillars.

“Huff.”

Idrithrel took a moment to compose herself.

“This must be a sick joke, Plume. What the hell did you find? Where did you even find this kid?” she audibly asked herself. In the next moment, a loud whistle rang through the air.

‘Huh? I’m upside down?’ she asked herself, before crashing into a pile of rubble.

Anastajia managed to get a solid strike in, sending Idrithrel flying through the hall and into a pile of rubble. By now, several alarms were blaring loudly throughout the temple, and temple guards poured into the halls themselves.

“Grand Executor!” one of the temple guards called out. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Just—” she grunted as she pulled herself out of the rubble “training my new apprentice, dear. How about you? Are you doing fine?” she grinned.

“Grand Executor, this isn’t funny! We’re in the Ziggurat!” he responded angrily. “Not even you can act with such disregard in here!” he retorted.

“I’ll make sure to read your letter of complaint before I throw it in the bin.” she shrugged “For now, make sure you stay out of my way. Don’t even try engaging her.”

“I’ll remind you that—” but he was immediately cut off by her harsh response.

“No. I will remind you who the Grand Executor is. You will follow my orders, or I will personally relieve you of your duties, captain. Now obey.”

Though visibly displeased, the captain was clearly uncomfortable. He adjusted his collar before quickly replying. “By your command…” and slowly retreated with his men. “We’re going to escort any other students or faculty from the area. Let’s go.”

Idrithrel smiled ominously at the captain as she watched him leave, before refocusing on Anastajia.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, dear. I can see that you’ve been holding that attack in while the guards evacuated.” she raised her chin at the large bolt of flaming, purple psionic energy gathering between her hands “It would seem, that to an extent, even in this state, you retain some awareness.”

Idrithrel sighed softly before raising her crimson blade, enveloping it in thick psionic energy.

“You are still a few hundred years too young to beat me.”

With a downwards motion, Idrithrel unleashed a blinding light.

 

[crisrko]

“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.

 

[crisrko]

“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!”

 

[crisrko]

“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.”

 

[crisrko]

“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.

 

[crisrko]

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.

 

[crisrko]

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.

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.`

 

[crisrko]

Idrithrel Grezeiros
Order of Ecclesia
Mireesh Marr

By the break of dawn, I was already awaiting in the Ziggurat’s training facilities. It was one of the largest rooms in the entire complex, equipped with multiple mechanical platforms that could be adjusted to replicate all sorts of environments. Multiple dark energy virtual reality projectors created obstacles and live flora and fauna as desired; truthfully, it was the ultimate training environment for any soldier.

Surrounding the platforms, several shield generators ensured that no debris or psionic energy would leak from the training grounds and into the stands and surrounding rooms. After all, we held tournaments and contests inside this arena for the students; plus, should the instructors or facility guards wish to loosen up a little, they could also use the grounds for sparring.

I stopped by the armory on the way here to retrieve a blade for Anastajia. As a student, she’s not exactly allowed to carry any weapons on the premises outside of curricular activities, and it’s not like I expect her to fight me bare-handed while I swing my sword at her; though, that could make for a useful training experience. You never know on a real battlefield; you could lose your weapon, or even worse, a limb, and still have to carry on fighting.

Although, with her vast psionic energy stores I wouldn’t be surprised if she could hyper-regenerate a severed limb. Of course, I have no real way of testing this, I am not so depraved as to maim my apprentice to test a theory, nor do I hope that I will ever find out the answer to this question. I care for this apprentice, much like I did for Plume… though maybe I suppose I do like Anastajia more. She has more fire in her than he did.

After waiting for what was the better of a quarter of an hour, I began to grow impatient. Where is this apprentice of mine? I’m reminiscing and praising her and then she has the gall to be late to training?

`Anastajia` I call out to her telepathically. Strangely enough, I cannot really sense her psionic energy.

Before I could rise to my feet, a single blast of psionic energy shot out from the ceiling, missing me by a few inches. I twist and turn, using the momentum to jump several feet away from the impact zone before returning the favor.

Psionic energy gathered at the tips of my fingers as I shot out a few blasts of low-output energy in the general direction of where the surprise attack came from… but they were all deflected immediately.

“My, aren’t we moving quickly?” I ask, bemused. “Hiding your psionic energy to prepare a surprise attack. A good attempt, but it wouldn’t quite work on me, my dear girl.”

Anastajia stood before me, a silver blade in her right hand. She’d picked it up from the ground while I dodged her attack.

“How does it feel? I believe the hilt installed on it is adaptive, so it should be responding to the wielder’s hand’s proportions.”

Anastajia inspected the blade for a moment, shooting a few glances towards me from time to time to make sure I don’t intend to attack her while she’s distracted. I simply nod, raising both of my hands up.

“It’s… surprisingly comfortable.” She says, “Much more comfortable than the swords I’ve been training with so far.”

“It’s not one of the training weapons. You can think of it as a gift. There is no rule within the Order that students cannot have their own equipment.” I explain, pointing at the blade in her hand. “I’m sure you’ve seen it yourself. Plus, it’s been long overdue.”

Anastajia looked at me somewhat perplexed; I can tell she is happy for the gift but is struggling to accept it. I suppose that her low self-esteem still rears its ugly head from time to time.

“Those blades are special… they adapt to the features of their wielder. Later, I can even teach you to modify its properties to better suit you in combat. Think of it like a conduit.”

“I remember seeing a conduit like this before when I went with Plume to Salo Helise.”

“Are you talking about the Blade of the Huntress?” I ask, curtly.

Anastajia pauses for a moment.

“Come on, my dear. When it comes to psionic artifacts, our Order knows everything that moves. We knew the Taufeans were in possession of it, and that they called you to take it.”

After this quick explanation I reached towards the hilt of my sword, pulling it out. It shone a bright, crimson red, as if it was thirsting for battle. My psionic energy slowly seeped into the blade, causing its edge to slowly turn purple.

“Focus. Slowly drive some of your psionic energy into the weapon. Not too much at once, please, it hasn’t yet adapted to you.”

I watch as Anastajia glides her hand over the blade, slowly feeding her psionic energy into the weapon. What previously was a bright, silvery blade turned into a charcoal black, almost lightless weapon. I could see that it shone with a purple hue, so the process did not fail. Anastajia looked at me, expectantly, to tell her what had happened.

“As the weapon adapts to the wearer’s psionic energy, it’s color can sometimes change. I suppose it has to do with the attributes of your power, though I would have to be honest and say that I’ve never seen a design like that.”

I shrug my shoulders lightly before raising the tip of my blade in her direction, awaiting her move.

“Focus your energy into the blade and take a swing.” I speak.

Anastajia nods, following my instructions. A tangible, physical slash of psionic energy shot out in my direction, and I swat it away.

“Good.” I praise her as the edges of my mouth curl into a satisfied smile.

With a sudden fluid motion, Anastajia wrapped her feet in psionic energy and lunged forward, her sword slicing through the air towards me; our blades clashed with a metallic ring that echoed in the arena as I parried her strike with a swift upward motion.

She spun away; her feet light on the ground, and came at me again, this time feinting to the right before striking to the left. I anticipated her move, meeting her blade with my own in a shower of sparks and psionic residue. She’s been carefully maintaining her psionic output since the start of the battle.

Our swords danced and clashed, moving as if in a deadly ballet; Anastajia’s footwork was precise, her strikes powerful and measured. I swung low, aiming for her legs, but she used her shield to blunt my attack and dodge to the side by a hair’s breadth before retaliating with a strong blast of psionic energy.

I effortlessly jump above it, dodging the attack.

“I see that you’ve been paying attention in swordsmanship.” I praise her while moving the strands of hair from my eyes and behind my ears.

Her answer came between ragged gasps.

“I’ve been… told I am quite good at it… by the instructors.”

I nod in confirmation.

“You are, indeed. It pleases me to see you are so adept in melee. Many of our soldier’s swords become dull due to their reliance on dark energy weaponry.” I lament. “I can understand it. Not everyone is as strong a psionic as us.”

“Weapons… are weapons. Does it matter if it is the blade or the rifle?” she asks, stalling for time.

“Hmm…” I ponder for a moment as I close the distance. “I suppose not, though this dance is a feast for the soul.”

I lunge forward, manifesting a ball of psionic energy in my spare hand; Anastajia releases a flurry of psionic slashes in my direction, but I dodge them effortlessly before towering above her. Caught completely by surprise, she stabs her blade upwards towards my throat…

As I dodged her blade, I realized that it was not a stab but that she released the blade from her hands, throwing it towards me. Immediately, she closed the distance towards me, grabbing my wrists with her hands and pulling me towards her, throwing me off balance.

Just as she twists her hip and throws me over, I let go of the ball of psionic energy, hitting her square center mass. I could see her psionic shield shatter as she flew towards the edge of the arena, crashing into the wall with a deafening thud.

“Have I overdone it?” I ask myself out loud. “Anastajia, dear, are you okay?”

I can feel the subtle shift in her aura; so far, she’s been holding it under control masterfully, but that last impact has probably thrown her off. I wonder if she’s going to go berserk again.

I wait, following the flow of her psionic energy while she gets back up to her feet. She seems dizzy, a few droplets of blood having formed above her right eyebrow. It must be a gash on her forehead or above. Her bun is also ruined, her long platinum hair dangling behind her. She shoots a deathly glare, as if scolding me for taking the spar too far; that’s fair, I suppose. I have gotten ahead of myself since I haven’t had the time to blow off steam lately.

Anastajia’s violet eyes flicker as she tethers on the edge of going berserk. I am honestly impressed by her self-control. She slowly brings her powers under control, diminishing the psionic energy surrounding her with each passing moment. After a minute or so, she appears to have stabilized it.

“You know…” I speak “In a real battle, you wouldn’t be afforded this time to get yourself under control.”

Anastajia nods as she drops down on her butt, effectively conceding the fight.

I sheathed my blade and approached my apprentice, placing a palm on her head. From here, it seems like I am talking to the same brat that Plume dropped off in my temple. What a handful she was for the first month.

“You’ve done well, Anastajia. I am proud of your progress.”

As those words parted from my lips, she turned her gaze towards the ground, nodding silently. Honestly, even in moments like these, she gets all shy. Her reddened ears are a dead giveaway.

“You can take the rest of the day off. Go get your injuries checked out at the infirmary.”

“I’ll be fine.” she answers as she pushes herself up to her feet; a wince on her face after tapping the gash above her eyebrow.

“I know you can heal it by yourself, but I don’t want it to scar.” I smirk. “You wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.”

She rolls her eyes at my pathetic attempt of a joke and nods once before picking up and sheathing her new sword. I can see her eyes glisten as she attaches the hilt to her waist. I was right in picking this gift out for her.

“Will we be training more often from now on?” she asks, looking me in the eyes.

I have been, admittedly, somewhat busy those past few weeks. Buried in either paperwork or meeting with the Grand Admiral of the Black Fleet; there are some concerned voices in the government and the military that those rebellions will soon spread to our own worlds. I’ve read the report on Stavanger; an avoidable tragedy. Several battalions from the United Galactic Peacekeeping force were lost, and those lives included Mirati personnel as well.

For whatever reason, the Council was unable to send the reinforcements in time. Sheer incompetence or treasonous interference? I wouldn’t be able to say at this point in time. Most of the surrounding fleets found themselves in engagements with the Boellian insurgents; normally they should’ve made easy work of them, but they employed kamikaze tactics, damaging several cruisers in the process.

On the worlds, the Boellian population was obviously in support of the rebellion. Guerilla warfare broke out in the cities; the factories, the mines, wherever there were Boellian hands, there also were Boellian arms. Most concerning however was the discovery of a rogue psionic element aiding the rebellion. I wouldn’t have suspected the Order of Psion in the first place, but the Kalealise have also denied it; well, I suppose they have their hands full with bringing that traitor Lorkan to death.

We’ll be leaving for Thiel in about a month. I may aswell make time to train her further.

“We will. We’ve had a light spar today, so that I can figure out where your ability level is at now.” I nodded to her. “You have heard from the Administrator that you are among the thousand adepts going to Thiel, correct?”

She nods.

“Good. We have some time to prepare. I want to ensure that I don’t need to worry about your safety on the planet.”

Slowly stepping forward, I approach the girl and rest one of my hands on her shoulders.

“Now go get that gash checked out like I told you.”

 

[crisrko]

Anastajia
Order of Ecclesia
Mireesh Marr

I’ve been at the Ziggurat for the better part of a year now, ever since Plume left me in Master Idrithrel’s care. It was difficult at the start, but I’ve adapted to the new environment. I have my own room, unlike on Zith, and there are far more training materials over here.

Grand Psion Turgal did not emphasize combat ability, while it seems that the Order of Ecclesia does; the arena inside the Ziggurat cannot be compared to anything I have seen. Certainly not on Zith, nor on any other Psion worlds that Plume took me too.

Maybe you could make a case for the academy on Rhar’I, since Psion Millu Ashnar did not fully subscribe to Grand Psion Turgal’s way of thinking. He was more… militaristic, I suppose. He had several combat facilities built on the planet to train the students living there; it would make sense, in a way, since that academy is closer to the pirate territories and the incursion on Salzenmund.

I heard from the news that Na-Swe-Shuk has been besieged by the swarm. I wonder if Psion Ashnar has taken up arms and left for his home planet. According to the news, many Behrfrangi from across the galaxy have left to fight for their home. I don’t know if Turgal would do it, but if there were any Psion that would leave the order for this, it would have to be Psion Ashnar.

The Imperium sent a token force to Na-Swe-Shuk as well, as part of their responsibilities as a member of the Galactic Council; among them, five hundred adepts from the Order. I heard that Master Idrithrel picked out some of them, mostly among the older adepts that were supposed to break into the ranks of the order proper. It is tradition, I am told, that those considered ready to “graduate” is sent on a military mission out in the galaxy.

By the end of this month, I will also be heading out on a mission on some over-run world, Zubelgenubi. It seems to be under the ownership of the Archduke’s family, and Master is supposed to help them get it back from the monsters that overran their facilities. I heard about planets like these, ‘fractured worlds’, they’re called.

Planets that have been bombarded… destroyed… through rampant use of dark energy and dark matter armament. At one point, the energies detonate the planetary core, sending the planet into a physics-defying state; the planet itself is torn apart, but there remains a gravity field that holds it somewhat together; the rock plates keep drifting through the void in the planet’s gravity well, leading to immense storms and phenomena unseen in the rest of the galaxy. It’s a byproduct of dark matter’s properties, they say. I don’t understand the bulk of the explanation, either way.

A familiar voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance to the side to see Elephon, a Mirati adept, just like me.

“Mireesh Marr to Anastajia. Are you listening?” he asks softly, prodding the side of my head with the corner of a tome he’s carrying.

I slapped the tome away from me, causing him to almost drop it. He scoffed, pulling the chair opposite me and sitting down at the desk.

“Clearly you’re listening if you’re willing to be rude.” He says as he pushes the tome towards me.

“I’m sorry. I was startled.” I smile as I respond with an obvious half-truth. “What’s this?”

“A tome.” He answers briefly, much to my chagrin.

“I can tell as much. A tome on what?” I ask, pulling the tome closer to me. It’s very weathered, the cover having seen the better part of a lifetime. Unfamiliar letters are etched into the cover.

“It’s a bestiary, focused on dark energy spawns. I figured we’ll need it, since we’re going to Zubelgenubi.” He explains. “I have no doubt they’ll brief us beforehand, but knowing more couldn’t help, right?”

I nod lightly before skimming through the pages aimlessly. I can’t tell what a single word means.

Elephon looks at me, clearly bemused. I can hear him chuckle under his breath before opening his mouth.

“Can you not read Old Mireshi?”

I shake my head before turning the tome around and sliding it towards him. Elephon looks through the pages before settling on one of the first few entries.

“Voidfiends.”

Elephon turned the tome towards me and pointed at the sketches of the monsters. Malformed creatures of pure darkness, not too dissimilar to eels or other aquatic creatures. Some of them possess wings instead of fins, a single central eye instead of two and many other deformities. Nothing appears to be standardized and it is merely a product of their corruption by dark energy.

“So, most of them used to be the local fauna…” he says gravely. “Transformed and reanimated by dark energy.”

“It’s crazy when you think we have rifles shooting out that stuff.”

Elephon looks at me for a moment before continuing to read out the information from the tome.

“So physical attacks seem to be the most effective… Energy weaponry is inefficient.” He reads as he drags his finger across the yellow paper. “Kinetic armament is advised.”

A while passes while Elephon continues to read out a few excerpts from the bestiary to me. By now, my time here should have expired, and the librarian is probably on their way. I let Elephon know that I must go and ask him to take some notes from the tome and send me a copy. It makes more sense when he does it, they’re much easier to understand.

However, as I made my way through the main hall and into the dormitories, I came across two of my few ‘mortal enemies’. Virion and Aleesia Dorven, the twins from the Dorven family, and members of the so-called noble faction here in the Ziggurat. Two pretentious brats with an ego taller than the Seat of Power itself, despite being nothing more than the children of a count.

Count Dorven, a veteran of the Coalition War has his fief in the eastern territories of the Imperium; a small factory-world in the Neurys system, near the border with the new Sylosi colonies. He fought in the battle of Akkanar as a strike-craft pilot and almost lost his life; he now serves as an instructor at the naval academy. Master Idrithrel claims he is a reasonable man, unlike his two children. Their mother’s influence, I suppose.

Despite my best efforts to avoid them, Aleesia spots me just as I turned the corner; a wicked grin on her face as she nudged her brother in my direction. Soon enough, I could hear her voice grating against my ears.

“Anastajia!” she calls out to me, but I pace forward, ignoring her.

“I don’t think she wants to talk to us, sister.” Virion says mockingly as he rushes forward to cut me off.

I roll my eyes as I take a step backwards to avoid bumping into him. Aleesia caught up to him, leaning against her brother as she stared down at me. As Miratis, they were naturally taller than me, which made the way they looked down at me even more infuriating.

“I see its Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber. How can I help you today?” I ask, crossing my arms impatiently.

“You know us. We’re looking out for our lessers. I’ve heard that you’re also going to come to Zubelgenubi with us.” Virion answered, a mocking smile forming on his face. “I can’t really believe that they’d let you out of all people on such an important mission.”

Aleesia shook her head dramatically. “I know right, brother. To think that the Order would send a human girl on a matter related to the Archduke of all people!”

Several students pass by as the scene pans out, most of them familiar with their antics; unfortunately, most of them neither cared nor were they willing to intervene on an outsider’s behalf. Some of them even shared their beliefs, since those two were so popular with the younger adepts.

“Are you done?” I ask them. Aleesia could see that I was annoyed by their theatrics and took that as a sign to continue her petty games. She would lean forward, pressing her index finger against my chest.

“I don’t think you get it.” She explained as she towered above me, each word carefully dragged out as if I was incapable of understanding her. “No one thinks that a prat like you should be fighting with our legions.”

I chuckled under my breath in disbelief, raising one of my eyebrows.

“Really? It seems like the Executors do” I speak, shrugging my shoulders. “And if anything, I was near the top of the list, unlike you two.”

I swat her finger away, much to her annoyance. Virion takes a step forward as if trying to intimidate me through presence alone.

“I’m just a poor, human, outsider… and yet I’ve been picked before your royal asses. Did the Count have to intervene for you, by any chance?”

Like all the bratty nobles in the Ziggurat, those two were also prone to anger. I could tell that my last sentence stung as Virion gripped me by the collar, tugging away at my jacket. His sister’s psionic energies flared up in response to this perceived humiliation.

“You should be more careful with your words, girl.” Aleesia spat out with venom in her voice. “Words like these could get you in a lot of trouble.”

I roll my eyes dramatically.

“I could never.”

As I looked around, a circle had formed around us comprised of students from all over the temple. Noticing this, Virion let go and wiped his hand across his own chest. Aleesia leaned in closer to me snarling a few words of contempt before turning around and making her way through the others.

“We’ll all be on our own over there. Remember that.”

With those words as a parting gift, Virion followed his twin sister and the spectators quickly dispersed.

 

[crisrko]

Anastajia
Order of Ecclesia
Thile

A week has passed since we departed Mireesh Marr. All disciples of the Order are travelling with the Grand Executor herself; since this is an official matter and given the nature of the task at hand, the Imperium has sanctioned the deployment of a Giga Fortress. Despite arriving in Zubelgenubi quickly, we had to wait for the rest of our forces to arrive.

Archduke Valesky seems to be committing a lot of resources in regaining control of the planet. I heard from Elephon that we will be joined by several mechanized and armored divisions, as well as a sizeable deployment of Alpha Gunships and Bombers. I thought that we would be simply clearing a planetary infestation, but I realize now that this is a much bigger ordeal.

Over twenty armored divisions, a few dozen mechanized and around a dozen various specialized divisions, ranging from Arachnaes to Alpha Siege Warforms; those Warforms are a real big deal. It’s a robotic unit that the Imperium has rebuilt based on ancient designs; one single warform is worth an entire tank division, and the Archduke has brought half a dozen of them to Thile.

Before departing Mireesh Marr, the Administratum let us know of our assignments during the planetary mission. Our adepts will form a singular division under the command of an Executor. I am part of the 1st Battalion, like the Dorven twins. Our reciprocal dislike aside, their abilities suit this assignment. Our 1st Battalion will be tasked to operate as a Shock Unit, punching through the enemy lines alongside the Warforms and the Landcruisers.

By the end of the day, we will be landing in the center of the planetary storm. It’s unlike anything I have seen before. I cannot fathom how this planet is holding together, let alone how it is capable of sustaining any sort of life… if you could call those darkspawn such. Our instructors have stressed to us that we need to ensure we maintain the structural integrity of our combat suits, or the environment will make quick work of us. We cannot breathe the air on the surface and exposing our skin to the air will quickly result in frostbite. Take too long to seal the suit and you will be frozen solid.

As I sat on a durasteel box in the hangars, I could feel my heart pound in my chest; a relentless drumbeat that echoed the anxiety and fears running through my veins. I was playing with my food, absent-mindedly. Around me, the entire room was a flurry of activity. Veteran adepts were sharpening their weapons, the scraping of metal a harsh reminder of what was coming. Others were running last minute tests of their combat suits and auxiliary equipment, making sure that all of their functions were within parameters. I could hear some of the younger adepts exchange final words of encouragement in hushed tones; most of them empty bravado. Their laughter was forced and hollow; they were just as anxious about tonight as me, only their nobility did not allow them the weakness of looking afraid.

As I let out a deep sigh, I could feel a hand gripping my shoulder; as I looked up, it was Nephinae, one of the more veteran adepts joining us for this mission. Her eyes were a mixture of a compassion and steely resolve. She sat down next to me before speaking, looking blankly in the distance.

“First battle is always the hardest.” She said, her voice low and grave. “But I’ve seen you, Anastajia. You’ve got what it takes to come out of this just fine.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. I let out an anxious chuckle as I wanted to respond, but my throat felt tight; the words were tangled in a knot of fear and anticipation. I thought that I would be better than this after training with the Order of Psion for almost two decades. I went on missions with Plume before. I had seen danger, I had been in danger; but this felt different, it was different.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never had a way with words, so this is the best encouragement I can give you.” Nephinae added, playfully punching my shoulder. “You’ve got to go out there and show the Grand Executor that her apprentice is a veritable goddess of battle.”

With that, she pushed herself up and took her leave, going to another group of greenhorns, no doubt to try raise their spirits.

---

​

As the ship hovered above Thile, the dark energy shields shuddered under the pressure of surrounding the storm as beams of pure energy struck the hull of the vessel. We could see the amassing forces in orbit as they all exited their jumps; the Archduke did not lie, Idrithrel will have a veritable army to destroy all monster strongholds on this planet.

We made our way to the drop pods and secured ourselves. Our division will be at the front of the battle, to secure a landing zone for the tanks and landcruisers. We will not be diving down alone; two siege warforms and several autonomous drone units are being deployed with us for support.

---

A drop pod had enough room for just fourteen, plus any disposable equipment like single use rocket launchers, energy cannons and static energy shields. Anastajia gripped her dark energy rifle so tightly that the servomotors supporting her hands let out a pitiful cry.

The twins, Virion and Aleesia Dorven were sitting across from her, huddled up together. It was their first battle as well. She could not see their faces, but she could feel they were just as anxious as her. Next to her, Nephinae stood silently, awaiting impact.

The pod shuddered violently as it pierced the upper atmosphere; the intense vibrations rattling the occupant’s bones.

'BRACE FOR ENTRY!' the automated voice announced, though they hardly needed a reminder. Anastajia took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus; she even recited some mantras that Plume had taught her before in the hope that it would stifle some of her anxiety.

The pod’s roar intensified, fiery comets streaking through the sky, visible to both allies and the mutants on the grounds. Anastajia could imagine monsters watching, tracking the descending pods in preparation for the onslaught. A void mutant fortress was tough to crack; they were defiled and mutated by dark energy, yes, but they were not mindless beasts. She steeled herself, closing her eyes.

'IMPACT IN FIVE SECONDS!' the voice droned; Anastajia’s pulse pounded in her ears.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

It slammed into the ground, sending ripples of dust and dirt in all directions. With a hiss of hydraulics, the doors exploded outwards, casting aside any smoke and debris.

Nephinae was the first one through the door, bellowing a Mirati war cry and charging forward towards the void mutants surrounding them, blasting psionic energy and dark energy bolts indiscriminately.

It was chaotic. Swirls of colors and sounds – blazing fires, towering plumes of smoke and the staccato bursts of kinetic rounds. In the distance, the strikecraft engaged in a strafing run, dropping an immense amount of dark energy infused explosives over the mutant ranks, destroying their rudimentary fortifications and turrets.

Anastajia was following behind Nephinae, only moving forward. She did not have the time to look behind, or she would be left behind the raging assault. Dark energy bolts whizzed past her head, close enough for her armor’s integrated systems to blare an almost deafening warning in her ears.

Enveloped in thick psionic energy, Nephinae flitted and danced as though possessed by a God of War, carving and gorging through the mutant hordes. Calling her Ecclesian kindred to break through.

“Break them apart! Singe them in the name of the Empress!” she bellowed as her crimson blade bisected a void mutant at the waist.

---

In orbit above Thile, on the flagship Eversong, Grand Executor Idrithrel Grezeiros was coordinating the planetary battle.

The Eversong, an Inarnin-class Hyperion was the largest class of combat ships produced by the Mirati Imperium. Akin to the precursor and fallen empires of the galaxy, the Imperium employed a vertical design, seamlessly blending the weaponry in the hull of the ship itself.

But the number of Inarnin-class Hyperions was limited; not even the Imperium could field more than two dozen of them. As such, they are usually deployed in key strategic sectors; they are the effective flagships of their fleets. A Titan, but on another, far greater scale.

Now, in the Eversong’s command center, Idrithrel and the Archduke were stood before a massive holo-table, watching the projection of the Imperium forces in real time. While the Order of Ecclesia carved a way through to the Mutant Stronghold, additional drop pods containing armored divisions and landcruisers crashed onto the planet; a forward operating base was immediately established and fortified with anti-air and anti-tank turrets.

“It is all progressing as expected.” Eleg Valesky said. A flicker of enthusiasm could be heard in his voice. “At this rate, the Stronghold will be taken by the end of the week.”

“And the Valesky family will finally begin to work on a new Voidsphere of the Imperium.” Idrithrel retorted, looking at the grizzled official.

Eleg was very familiar with Idrithrel’s burning loyalty to the Empress. After Kryszorwyn’s coup, Idrithrel personally led the remaining Executors and quelled the remaining noble rebellions before they even got off their planets, going as far as torching the ancestral homes of many dynasties. A new start, if you will, symbolizing the centralization of power under the new Empress, and the relegation of the great noble families.

“It is as you say.” Eleg nodded. “But please, Grand Executor, I can feel your disdain with every word. It would be most kind of you if we could be on the same side for the duration of this siege.”

Idrithrel chuckled under her breath; it was forced, maybe even provocative.

“I have been most accommodating, Archduke. I have not forgotten that the Empress has sanctioned this expedition, so rest assured.” Idrithrel explained as she zoomed the projection onto the forward shock assault.

There were so many units on the holo that it was nearly impossible to read. Idrithrel sliced it like a pie and dragged part of it to the side, discarding the rest. It centered on the identifier: ECCL-BT-1-0768-AN.

“I see that your apprentice is also part of the assault forces.” Eleg pointed out the obvious. “And part of the vanguard, as well.”

Idrithrel glanced at him through the corner of her eyes; is he really pretending that he did not know? He’d seen the lists, and it was his office who had the battalion switched to a vanguard role; it was initially meant to roll in with the landcruisers after the FOB was secured. By the time the siege of the stronghold proper began, their battalion would have reduced effectiveness due to the tiredness.

In the grand scheme of things, whether the battalion entered the siege of the stronghold itself at full effectiveness or not was not important; the overwhelming force brought to bear against the mutants would break through them all the same. However, it would impact the casualties taken by the Order, and Idrithrel knew that.

Even though the archduke has received the Empress’s blessing to secure the planet for the Imperium, and even though she directly decreed that the Order is to assist this, he is still playing politics.

‘Oh, how I wish I could squash his head.’ Idrithrel thought to herself, a scowl forming on her face. After a brief pause, she acknowledged the presence of Anastajia on the planet.

“I thought that it would be a good experience for her. While the shards provided by the temple provide valuable insight, the training done in a virtual environment does not quite compare to the real thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Truly.” Eleg nodded. “Nothing compares to real battle experience; though, I must say, you must have quite the faith in her to have assigned her to a shock unit.”

“What can I say…” Idrithrel stared blankly at the project, watching the identifier dance through swathes of enemies. “She is a wondrous prospect.”

---

Nephinae had fought against the Void Mutants before. Thile was not her first expedition on a Fractured World, and this was the reason that she was the leader of her squad. Out of all fourteen of them, only she and another three had cleared a stronghold before. It would still take a few more days before breaking through the main bulk of their forces; the stronghold would not fall today, and she knew that.

Anastajia and the Dorven twins kept close behind her, fighting with ferocity and eerie precision. She’d heard of the twin’s prodigious electrokinesis, but to see them expertly use it to deflect and annihilate the enemy firsthand was quite the sight; their abilities bring honor to the Count and his bloodline.

On the other hand, the human girl was keeping her use of psionic energy to a minimum, using minimal energy to enhance her physical abilities beyond what the suit allowed her to do. She could no longer feel any of the anxiety she oozed inside the drop pod; perhaps she would survive the battle.

Through the smoke of the battlefield and over the heads of the enemy, a fleet of drones dove straight drown, releasing a barrage of micro-missiles. As the explosions tore through the mutants, the first battalion charged through the gaps, eventually breaking the enemy line. They were now in full retreat.

‘Something is wrong.’ she thought to herself. Nephinae could see the mutants running back, dropping their rudimentary weaponry aside and making their way to the stronghold. Despite the effective charge, it should not have been enough to break them.

The wind was howling, drowning out the mechanical whirls of the drones and the dreadful sound of the landcruiser’s engines. All the hairs on her body stood on end; her instincts screamed at her to run. Something was coming.

A large pile of flesh and armor crashed into the ground, straight in the middle of the first battalion, sending some of them flying with the debris; the unluckier ones were squashed below in a lake of blood and metallic gunk. This winged, pitch blacked thing stood on its two feet, bellowing a deafening roar that sent a Warform tumbling on its back.

“IT’S A VOID TERROR!” they cried out as it swept its immense claws horizontally, carving through at least a few dozen warriors.

​

“Disperse! All troops disperse and concentrate fire upon the Terror! Do not bunch up!” the voice of the battalion commander droned inside their helmets.

Nephinae and the veterans leapt forward, empowering themselves with psionic energy; a barrage of dark energy bolts and kinetic rounds clashed with the monstrosity’s armored hide; but the rounds could not pierce through, instead bouncing in all directions.

“Pummel it with psionic energy!”

An arc of lightning shot out from the ground, striking the terror straight in the face; it’s hide badly burnt and smoking. Virion and Aleesia Dorven, their hands interlocked, pooled their psionic energy together to shoot out that bolt.

But it was not enough, and the monster swept forward, enraged by their attack. The ground thundered with each colossal step, crushing anything beneath it into a thick paste; it was now focused on the twins.

Virion and Aleesia continued their barrage; it was effective, the beast cried out in pain with each blast, but there was no sign of stopping.

Nephinae cried out to them to jump, to dodge out of the way, but they could not move in time. Those blasts had drained them more than they expected; their legs buckled and would not move, at the mercy of the rampaging monstrosity.

As its claws came crashing down, a single flash of violet psionic energy shot in front of the twins; the moment quickly passed, and they found themselves out of the impact zone. Aleesia and Virion looked at each other in utter bewilderment; they had resolved themselves to their death, yet here they were, alive and fine.

Virion looked up, a single figure standing before the two; a long, black blade in her right hand.

“You…?” he asked, trembling in his voice. “Why?”

Anastajia towered above them, her psionic energy radiating in all directions. It made them tremble; it was too much for just one person.

But Anastajia did not answer them; her body had moved on its own. No one could have blamed her if she just let them be turned into a red mist, but she could not bear knowing that she could have saved them from their imminent death.

As the rest of the battalion engaged the monster once again, Anastajia began to gather a large amount of psionic energy; a ball of pure swirling energy formed between her two hands. It was uncomfortable; her pulse was heightening, and her irises flickered intensely, tethering on the edge of losing control of her powers.

“It’s not possible…” Aleesia mumbled under her breath, aghast at the violent rotation of energy.

Nephinae and the others noticed the energy gathering in the background; they leapt away from the Terror, pooling their psionic energies together to root it to the spot. The exertion scratched at their psyche, the pain causing many of them to cry out. On the brink of unconsciousness, she cried out to Anastajia.

“NOW!”

A single ball of pure psionic energy shot forward, disintegrating everything in its path in a trail of infernal fire and glass, striking the terror dead center, exploding in a blue wash of blood and acid. It tore open a gash in its chest, exposing the muscle and skeleton beneath; it howled a bloodcurdling scream of pain.

Anastajia staggered forward, her vision cloudy. Explosions and screams continued to ring out in the background as she collapsed to the ground with a thud, passing out.

 

[crisrko]

Anastajia
Order of Ecclesia
Thile

She has been here before. It was the temple on Zith, in all its splendor. Rows upon rows of ancient tomes and databanks; the contents of this library eclipsed only by the library of the Ecclesian Ziggurat.

Her surroundings shifted; Anastajia was sat on one of the meditative plates inside the library; several tomes and psionic shards sprawled at her feet, humming with brilliant psionic energy.

Space itself was distorted; the light inside the library was a green haze and incomprehensible words echoed throughout the room. A chill ran down her spine as she noticed a single being standing opposite to her, a young woman wearing the traditional robes of the Orders of Psion.

She was no taller than her and seemed to be of a very similar physical build; not tall, but not short either. Her thin waist accentuated by an ivory belt, decorated with many intricate designs of alien origins. A single black blade dangled from her hip; it was her blade.

Anastajia tried to speak, but she could not. Her throat constricted at the mere thought of speaking, as if obstructed by a being of immense powers.

‘Where am I? What’s going on?’

As those thoughts entered her mind, the shards began to shake, releasing a blinding green light.

Her surroundings shifted once more. She was now in her chambers on Miresh Marr, standing before the mirror at the entrance to her room. This same woman was reflected in the mirror, but just like inside the library, she could not see her face; something was clouding it.

Anastajia closed her eyes for a moment as she channeled her psionic force, causing the image to distort even further. She felt a flicker of unease, as if something stared at her; it was the reflection in the mirror. Even as the world surrounding them was reduced to an incomprehensible green haze, the reflection remained clear.

As she mustered her psionic energy, Anastajia felt that was no longer constricted. She could feel hands, her legs, her fingers. This time, she was able to speak.

“Who are you?” she demanded; her words fell flat, their echo stifled at conception. “What do you want from me?”

In response to her question, the reflection vanished from the mirror; as she peered into the glass, a vast, unknown planet was displayed. An invisible force compelled her forward; no, it dragged her towards the mirror.

Anastajia tried to stand her ground; her muscles strained against the unknown forces. Something pushed her in, causing her to fly through the mirror.

Once again, the surroundings shifted.

A simple platform, drifting through the endless void. There was nothing. No light, no stars, no asteroids. Just nothingness, in all directions.

Anastajia tried to call upon her psionic powers once again, but this time was unable to; something was suppressing them.

“Who are you?!” she demanded once again.

“I am you…” the voice echoed, assaulting her mental defenses.

Anastajia strained under the onslaught. “You are not me!” she cried out.

For a moment the echoes stifled, allowing her to regain her composure. She tried to summon her powers once more, but to no avail. Slowly, the echoes turned into a rumble; she could not understand it at first, but it was as if the rumble mocked her.

The woman returned once more, now wearing the uniform of the Order of Ecclesia. She stood a mere few feet away from Anastajia, yet she felt impossibly far away, as if none of her actions could reach her, despite being within just outside arms reach.

“A part of you.” “Something that was lost.” “Who are you?”

All those words bombarded her at once.

“Daughter.” “Orphan.” “Psion.” “Executor.”

Anastajia could feel her strength slowly leaving her as the figure approached her steadily.

“Lost.” “Thought dead.” “Symbol.” “Triumph.” ”Hope.” “Curse.”

She collapsed to her knees as the figure now towered above her; a thick, psionic energy enveloping her entire being.

“Who are you?” the being asked.

Anastajia remained silent, focusing on regaining her strength.

“I know, but you do not.” the being spoke once again, much to her chagrin. “But I could tell you.”

Anastajia’s heart sunk; she could tell her of her origins?

It stated its terms: “An exchange.”

“An exchange? What sort of exchange?” she asked.

Something stirred within her, clawing once again at her mental defenses. She cried out in agony as the being continued to tower above her, motionlessly.

“A pact.”

No. She should not. She knew that she should not, but whatever this creature was, it knew of her; the power it has manifested, it was no doubt a being from the Shroud. As Anastajia continued to reason with herself, a single whisper came into her ear.

“My knowledge for a pact.”

Anastajia wavered as the being extended her arm towards her; it was awaiting confirmation.

---

“Remember, Anastajia.” Plume spoke softly. “Psionic power is both a boon and a curse.” He added, caressing the child’s head. “When we are at our weakest, the sweet temptations of the Shroud will be at their strongest. You must never allow it to take control over you.”

---

As the being trembled in anticipation, a soft change occurred in the psionic energies surrounding them. Slowly, the platform cracked, and light began to seep through the endless void.

An angry roar echoed through the dimension; her defiance had insulted it, and it would not be denied its pact by a mere mortal. Its psionic energies spiraled out of control, seeking to restore balance to this dimension; the void flickered between green and purple as the two forces collided.

“Ungrateful!” “Fool!” “Scoundrel!”

The words echoed through her head as a barrage of raw, unfiltered hatred pounded in her mind. She would not be able to resist much longer. In desperation, Anastajia prepared to strike at the being with all her remaining psionic energy.

As the figure grabbed her by the throat, Anastajia could feel something move through the dimension at impossible speeds; something huge and dangerous, not too dissimilar to the entity standing before her.

A single flicker of golden light tore through the void, dropping onto the platform, causing the figure to expose its true nature, a monstrosity of incomprehensible flesh and bone. It did not have a shape, for shape was limited by its angles and points. It roared a deafening noise, shattering all of Anastajia’s mental defenses. She could feel her body mere seconds away from transforming into something else.

“ANATHEMAAA!” it cried, unleashing an ocean of psionic energy towards the golden speck of light.

Light engulfed this entire space, sending Anastajia back into reality.

---

Anastajia woke up with a searing pain in her mind, disoriented and agitated, sweat cold on her skin. She was out of her armor now, lying down in an unknown bed. She could hear the echoes of battle in the distance, explosions and energy torpedoes annihilating everything in their path.

Different contraptions were attached to her, monitoring her vital signs and nourishing her body. It was an infirmary. She must have been dragged back to the FOB by one of the medical units.

“Have you come to?” a voice asked, softly. It was a Mirati woman, but she did not recognize her. She was wearing combat gear, but the red patch on her chest indicated that she was part of the medical corps.

Anastajia nodded weakly, still sapped of strength.

“Your physical parameters appear to be fine, but your mental activity was all over the place while you slept.” she continued. “Bad dreams?”

“You could say something like that.”

“Very well. As far as I am concerned, I’ll give you a dose of stimulants and send you on your way.”

With that, the nurse made her way to the console of the medical contraptions by the side of the bed, tapping a few buttons. In mere moments, Anastajia could feel her blood pumping once more; the tiredness was slowly fading.

“You’re part of the first battalion, are you not?” she asked while disconnecting Anastajia from the devices.

Anastajia simply nodded.

“You can find your battalion commander outside. They’ve been waiting for you to come to.”

“My battalion commander? Why would he be waiting for me?” Anastajia asked, somewhat perplexed.

“I don’t know. Not my job, not my business. Go, you’re hogging up my bed.”

After being ushered outside, Anastajia changed back into her combat uniform and made her way outside the medical complex.

It was very bright outside; lightning bounced off the force field shielding the FOB from the planet’s weather, crashing into the nearby rocks instead.

Multiple landcruisers and tanks were being brought in with orbital transports and lined up in formation as the logistic and mechanic corps continued to process their arrivals. Despite their rudimentary armaments, the mutants were adept at destroying our armor, so the Imperium was forced to continuously send in new units.

Eventually, Anastajia noticed the battalion commander and made her way to him, saluting.

“Adept 0768-AN reporting for duty, sir.”

Her battalion commander was a young man, looking no older than a human male in his thirties. He was wearing his combat armor and had a large xentronium glaive attached to his back; the insignia on his shoulder indicated that he was also an Executor of the Order.

“Are you Anastajia?” he asked, flatly. “Grand Executor Grezeiros has been up my ass the entire day, looking for updates on your status. Are you her bastard child or something?”

Anastajia frowned. If Idrithrel heard him she’d probably split him in half for the callous disrespect.

“Either way.” he continued “You are to report back to the frontlines. We’ve achieved a breakthrough after you blasted the hide off that void terror. We’re preparing to breach the stronghold.”

“Yes, sir.” she nodded,

Before Anastajia turned around to depart, the battalion commander motioned her to wait.

“Another thing, adept.”

Anastajia looked up at the man. “Sir?”

“Good job on taking down that void terror. I’ve been told by your squad leader that it was your psi-blast that allowed them to kill it. I’m going to recommend you for an award.”

“I—uh—thank you, sir.” she saluted him once again, but paused for a moment. Noticing this, the man sighed, having already wasted valuable time on this interaction.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Sir. Do you think it is wise?”

“What is?”

“Awarding me.”

He looked at her perplexed, as if she just uttered the most idiotic words that he had heard today. A brief moment of awkwardness ensued, as the two stared at each other. He eventually broke the silence.

“Every single time. I am going to go insane!" he ranted, stomping his foot on the ground like a child while flailing his arms in the air. "All of you aliens! Aaah!" he rubbed his eyebrows together before refocusing on Anastajia. "First. It is within my purview to recommend an award for whomever I wish.” He raised one finger. “Second. I don’t care if you are a human or not, without that feat of yours, my battalion would have probably taken more casualties than it already has.” Two fingers. “Three. I do not give a rat’s tail what the Archduke or any other moron thinks. I report to the Grand Executor, not him. He can go pound sand.” Three. “Anything else?”

“No sir.” she responded quickly, her eyes darting away awkwardly.

“Good, now get lost.” and waved her off.

Anastajia trailed off in search of the transport carriers.

In the distance, Nephinae and the Dorven twins were waiting by a transport shuttle, conversing with one of the logistics officers. She could not really make out what they were talking about, but both Nephinae and the officer appeared to be arguing.

Eventually, Nephinae noticed her, calling her over to the shuttle. Aleesia and Virion avoided her gaze like the plague, scurrying away like roaches. It did not bother Anastajia, but a tinge of displeasure was visible on Nephinae’s face.

“Are you better, then?” she asked, offering Anastajia her hand.

Anastajia took her hand, pulling herself up and climbing into the shuttle. She was still a bit stiff, but nothing that won’t go away on its own.

“I’ll be better once I get off this planet.” she answered. “It’s good to see you’re okay.”

Nephinae nodded, motioning over a pair of randoms to scoot over and give them some space. One of them tried to say something, but the glare she gave him caused him to rethink his actions. She sat down, waving Anastajia aggressively to sit down next to her. Anastajia complied, setting her blade between her legs.

“I must thank you, Anastajia. Were it not for your last attack, we wouldn’t have been able to break through its armor.” Nephinae explained, cupping one of her palms between her hands. Anastajia recoiled slightly, taken aback. “I don’t think you understand that you’ve pretty much saved the rest of our battalion.”

“I—Uh—Thank you? You’re welcome?” the words stuttered through the response, much to her embarrassment.

“If we both get off this planet safe and sound, I’ll make sure to treat you to dinner back on Miresh Marr. I promise.”

Anastajia nodded silently, her gaze darting around. Virion and Aleesia avoided her once again, staring down at the floor. For the next hour, Nephinae brought her up to speed on the progress of the assault.

After she had passed out, Nephinae and the rest of the veterans were able to nail the void terror in the chest with several dark energy bombs; they could stick them directly in the muscle above its heart thanks to the psi-blast let off by Anastajia. As it collapsed, the mutants tried to sally out once more, but the landcruisers and warforms reinforced them and drove them into their stronghold.

With the mutant forces surrounded, they were able to collect all the dead and wounded, sending them to the FOB for medical treatment. Anastajia’s wounds were minimal, so there was no need to transfer her to a more advanced medical facility. Due to their feat of taking down the terror, the battalion was allowed to break off from the assault and recover their forces.

Apparently, according to some of her friends higher up in the command structure, the Grand Executor almost ripped out the Archduke’s spine after being blindsided to the presence of void terrors at this assault point and ordered an investigation into the entire intelligence network to make sure that other information was not “lost” on the way. To say that she was enraged would be an understatement. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed, and due to some intervention from the rest of the command structure, the Archduke got away with his life intact and threatening that he would report this to the empress.

In the assault, the first battalion had suffered around three hundred casualties, lowering its combat effectiveness by almost a third. Reinforcements will be added from the auxiliary troops, but some reshuffling will be necessary, a blend of psionic and non-psionic troops. As far as Nephinae’s squad goes, its effectiveness was, against all odds, intact. Zero casualties.

But the siege of the Stronghold approaches.

 

[crisrko]

Anastajia
Order of Ecclesia
Thile

We’re approaching the fifth day on this planet. After defeating the mutant hordes surrounding the stronghold, our army breached the plateau and besieged the fortress. It is an interesting construct; it is not too dissimilar to the way the Imperium builds. Exotic alloys, an amalgamation of different materials interwoven by dark energy, that finally births one nigh impenetrable construct to anyone that does not wield dark matter and dark energy as the Imperium does.

Nephinae has already notified us of our orders; the battalion will once again be at the forefront of the battle. So long as we can take control of the fortress and cleanse the mutants from all levels, our position will be uncontested, and the resources can be diverted towards the Void Gardens and the Void Pits. According to the Battalion Commander, Master and the Archduke have descended to the planet already; they’ve gone to the Valesky’s research facilities.

I would hope that nothing befalls Idrithrel, but I cannot fathom what could ever truly harm her.

---

Anastajia was waiting in the siege camp amongst the other warriors of Ecclesia; idle chatter was drowned out by the whirling sound of the dark engines and propulsion systems of the Siege Warforms.

Batteries lit up the sky, working tirelessly to breach the walls of the fortress; fighters danced in the sky, dropping energy bombs with each run as they avoided the defenders on the wall. It pounded, and pounded, sending vibrations through the very plateau the camp was standing on. Soon, gaps will form in the hard-light plating, and the Imperium will storm them with overwhelming force.

Nephinae approached Anastajia, carrying her helmet under her right arm. She had dark circles under her eyes; she could not get any rest ahead of the final assault.

“I’ve been told we’ll be rotated after this assault.” she explained “Since neither the Void Flora nor the Void Crystals are susceptible to psionic attacks, the Grand Executor has other orders for us.”

Anastajia nodded, wiping away at sword, polishing it ahead of battle. Nephinae cocked a curious glance at her, before continuing.

“You have been ordered to the research facility. I will be joining you. We are to, apparently, escort the Grand Executor herself moving forward.”

Anastajia could sense fragments of amusement in Nephinae’s words. Thinking that the Grand Executor would need an escort was pointless; she probably had another reason to call them at her side.

“What about the Dorven twins?” Anastajia asked. “Are they not coming with us aswell?”

Nephinae shook her head. “No. Apparently they are being sent off-world.”

“Off-world?” Anastajia dropped the rag on a nearby crate before sheathing the blade at her hip. Her helmet dangled on the other side, attached to the magnetic clips on her hips.

“I hear that the countess has pulled some strings and found a way to have them pulled from the assault. Apparently, someone has leaked to the noble families that the Archduke withheld information regarding the Void Terror.”

Anastajia and Nephinae both smirked, thinking of a certain Mirati woman.

“Anastajia…” Nephinae paused for a moment, unsure of the words she was about to speak. “I know that you dislike the twins, but they are not bad kids.”

Anastajia looked back at her, silently.

“They are the product of their environment, a product of the countess, not the count. I’m sure you’ve seen them scurrying about ever since you saved them.” Nephinae pulled the rag aside, sitting down on the crate towards Anastajia. “I do not have the right to tell you to forgive them, but think about it, okay?”

“Why do you care so much about them, Nephinae?” Anastajia broke her silence as she removed the helmet from her waistline, slowly putting it on. “I do not hate them, but I do not intend to forgive what they’ve done either.”

Nephinae sighed, adorning her helmet at once; the assault was to commence soon. An order was issued through the integrated combat network, notifying all soldiers at once.

“We can talk about this another time. It looks like we’re setting out.”

Anastajia nodded absently, joining rank with the other troops ahead of the next meatgrinder.

---

Assault of the Mutant Stronghold had begun.

From the sky, a fleet of Void Gunships swept in low, unleashing a torrent of energy torpedoes and machine-gun fire, targeting the towers and the bodies on the wall. Chunks of hard-light metal dropped from the battlements, crushing any unlucky soul that would find itself below it.

On the ground, the Order of Ecclesia marched with relentless determination, their boots crunching on the debris-strewn ground. Sappers, shielded by psionics placed energy detonators at the foot of the wall and detonated them in a symphony of destruction. Sections of the ramparts crumbled, creating breaches for the infantry to exploit.

Nephinae led the charge, dancing through the mutants, sword and energy rifle in each hand. Alpha Kill-Teams plugged any gaps in the Ecclesian ranks as the shock troops split the remaining defenders apart, beelining for the inner fortress.

Psionic energy slammed into the monsters, throwing scores of them from their feet and charring their blue hides. Victory was at hand.

“Eight Squad.” the voice inside their helmets announced. “Divert from the main charge and scale the inner fortress’s walls.”

“Battalion Commander, what’s going on?” Nephinae asked for the entire squad to hear. “Has something happened?”

“We’ve received information that a Mutant Lord may be present inside the fortress. You need to take care of it before it can re-animate the slain.”

“A Lord can do that?!” Aleesia Dorven cried out. “Can we even take it out by ourselves?!”

“Clear comms.” he rasped. “You are my fastest team, now carry out your orders. Time is of the essence.” and terminated the link.

Anastajia listened as Nephinae cursed the battalion commander while driving her sword through the skull of a mutant, blue blood and gore dripping from the blade.

“On me.” she declared, leading a charge towards the fortress walls. “Use your psionic energy to scale the wall.”

Anastajia imbued her body with psionic energy as she strode over the wall, jumping over a group of mutants shooting from the top of the inner battlement. Anastajia dived down, cutting them apart with a flurry of slashes.

Looking down from the battlement, the ground below continued to descend into chaos as the Mirati soldiers poured through the main gate. They’ve taken the gate, and now the courtyard had fallen to the Imperium forces. It was no longer a battle, but a slaughter of the remaining mutants.

“Where is that thing?” Virion Dorven asked as he threw a mutant off the wall; his armor was scratched and dented having sustained damage when charging through the horde on the ground level.

On the other hand, Nephinae’s armor was in almost pristine condition despite leading the charge itself. It was the difference in their abilities to employ psionic shielding.

“It must be nearby.” Aleesia answered. “Do we split up, squad leader?” she asked, looking directly at Nephinae.

Nephinae pondered for a moment, inspecting her squad. Both Virion and Aleesia seem to have taken some damages; it was visible on their armors, and even if the damage did not pass through, she would rather not risk sending them alone when their armor is operating at reduced efficiency. She will not risk the lives of her greenhorns, she thought, before looking at Anastajia.

Anastajia could probably fend off a Lord alone, she thought. At least when it came down to power that is; but she is too inexperienced to fight as effectively as possible. Splitting up now means that if one of the groups encounters the Lord, they will need to hold on until reinforcements arrive.

“No. We’ll continue on together--” Nephinae answered, but she stopped herself short, looking in the distance.

A void mutant dressed in black armor, standing two or three feet above the rest of the horde, carrying a huge, barbed mace of unknown origin in its right hand. It glowed a ghastly blue, no doubt due to dark energy tampering.

“Looks like he found us instead.” Anastajia noted, readying herself.

But it was the mutant lord who moved first, striking out barehanded, the fingers on his left hand unspooling into long searing lashes that carbonized the vambrace of one of their squad mates. It dashed forward, whirling, lashing down again to the right. Were it not for her brother’s keen senses, Aleesia would have been vaporized now.

“Hey, hey, are you kidding me?!” she blurted out as both her and Virion dodged to the left before retaliating with an electrokinetic blast, hitting the mutant in the chest. Its armor was glowing like embers, but there seemed to be no significant damage.

“Surround him and whittle him down!” Nephinae barked her orders before unleashing a torrent of small energy blasts to garner its attention. “He’s stronger than the other void mutants, but our squad is stronger!”

It glanced for a moment as Nephinae ran in circles around it before unleashing its lashes upon one of the veteran squad mates, severing his left leg from the hip. He cried out in pain as the suit released analgesics and other chemicals directly into his body to regain optimal parameters, but this would only serve to soothe his agony. Seizing the moment, the mutant charged forward, bringing its long right arm towards the sky, its fingers tightening around the handle of the mace.

Nephinae and Anastajia cried out, trying to deploy a psionic shield between them, but they were too late. The lord drove the mace down with such strength and speed that it tore through the warrior’s body, carving a hole in the battlement at the impact point.

“Bastard!” another veteran bellowed as he closed the distance seeking to drive his energy spear through the lord’s armpit. In a flash of light, the mutant twisted and turned, taking his head with its mace. Blood spurted from the trunk as the body slumped to the ground.

Virion’s hands trembled as he raised his sword once again, guarding. “We can’t get too far else he’ll close the distance with those tendrils. Get too close and he’ll just do *that*. How are we meant to kill it?!”

Nephinae muttered something under her breath before calling out for an immediate bombing run.

“Squad Leader Eight, requesting an immediate bombing run on our position. We’re being torn apart by the mutant lord!”

“Acknowledged, Squad Leader. Strafing in three… two… one.”

A Void Gunship descended from the skies, unleashing a torrent of gunfire towards the Mutant Lord, causing the monster to shriek in pain as it hurled one of the void mutant bodies towards the ship, shattering one of its rotors. Smoke and fire engulfed the engines, causing the Gunship to come crashing down in the chaos below.

Nephinae and Anastajia would not waste this moment, charging at the monster in unison. As Nephinae leapt above it, channeling psionic energy into the tip of her blade, Anastajia slid behind the monster, using her powers to root it to the ground. Nephinae descended quickly, stabbing her blade at the monster’s head, only to be parried and sent flying backwards.

Aleesia and Virion rushed forward, zapping bolts of lightning at the monster but to little effect. Three other veteran warriors stabbed at the monster, but it blocked all of the strikes with unfathomable speed, even managing to throw in a few attacks of its own. A third veteran was crushed beneath his mace, and a fourth was impaled by the tendril.

Anastajia leapt away, creating some distance between her and the monster, releasing her bind in the process.

She continued to look around, trying to formulate a plan in her mind as the Dorven twins and the remaining veterans struggled for their lives in a dance of life and death. Nephinae was nowhere nearby, probably thrown off the battlement when she failed her attack.

‘Think, Anastajia, think.’

One of the Dorven twins cried out to her, Aleesia. “Anastajia, can’t you do the same thing you did to that Void Terror?!” as she dodged the lord’s attack in a backward somersault.

As the encounter stretched on, mutant reinforcements began to scale the battlement to assist the monstrosity; its voice was rugged, guttural even. It called out to its warriors, though none of the members of the eight squad could make sense of the words.

Caught off-guard, one of the veterans slipped on the grime and ichor bathing the soil and was impaled by a mutant spearman. Virion parried one of the tendrils with his sword, crackling sparks and smoke rising from the blade. Another mutant charged at Aleesia, but the tip of her sword found it’s throat even as she scrambled back to her feet; it’s snarling becoming a death rattle as it folded to the deck.

Anastajia enveloped herself with psionic energy once again, gathering the forces between her hands, but they fizzed out just as they manifested. She was slowly panicking, and her powers stopped cooperating. Cursing, she tried once again, this time succeeding in shooting a shroud bolt at the mutant lord, chipping the shoulder guard off its armor.

Its attention was now on her, rampaging through enemies and allies alike, blowing the Dorven twins out of the way alongside dozens of void mutants and bringing its fists together over its head before hammering down at her. She rolled out of the way by the skin of her teeth as the surface beneath her cracked under the impact.

A direct hit meant instant death, even for her.

‘Anastajia.’ the voice called out to her telepathically. ‘Keep it preoccupied for a few moments.’

‘Nephinae? You’re okay?’ she asked while dodging another blow. She was slowly being cornered by the mutant lord, each step bringing her closer to the edge of the wall.

‘My collarbone has been shattered and I have a punctured lung. I am hanging on by the grace of my suit and will.’

Anastajia could sense the truth in her words. ‘What is the plan?’

‘I am channeling all my remaining psionic energy in a single attack. I will freeze it solid. It falls on you to shatter it into pieces.’

Anastajia parried one of the tendrils and closed the distance, slashing the back of its knee in the process. Her sword was proving more effective than the others, no doubt due to the psionic enhancement.

‘How long do you need?’

‘A minute.’

‘Tall order. I will do my best.’

The telepathic link severed as Anastajia somersaulted over the mutant, striking at the exposed shoulder in the process.

All her sword lessons in the Ziggurat were paying off, especially the ones with Idrithrel. Had she not taught her how to incorporate psionic enchantment in her style, she would not have been able to pierce through the monster’s armor. It was, in a weird way, like the armor worn by the Imperium forces. Something to do with the dark energy imbuement, she thought. No wonder it’s so tough to crack. While Anastajia and the mutant lord stared each other down, neither side moved. She could feel the psionic energies rippling nearby. Nephinae was charging her attack, and the mutant lord could sense it too. It growled low, as if displeased that the fight was being interfered with by someone else.

Ten seconds.

It charged forward, bringing its fists together over its head once again. Anastajia had seen the move before and simply slid between the monster’s legs, slashing at its other knee in the process. It bellowed a cry, falling forward on its knees and swinging the mace behind in an arc that nearly caught Anastajia off-guard, defying its own anatomy and skeletal structure.

Twenty seconds.

She released several shroud bolts, blasting at the back of the monster’s head in a volley that could have shattered the hull of an alpha landcruiser. Smoke rose from the charred armor alongside the smell of searing flesh.

Thirty seconds.

A blast of dark energy struck Anastajia from the side, flinging her towards the edge of the wall. A void mutant had shot her with a looted dark energy rifle while she was focusing on the mutant lord. Alerts overloaded her visual interface, notifying her of damage to the structural integrity of her shield and armor through her ragged breath. She had sustained injuries to her dermal tissue too, but, luckily, the dark energy did not pierce through the plates. While she scrambled to her feet, slipping through the muck and blood on the surface, the void mutant raised the dark energy once again, taking aim.

Fifty seconds.

Virion and Aleesia Dorven unleashed an electrokinetic attack that vaporized the mutant, leaving the dark energy to fall to the ground in front of Anastajia. She tried to stretch her hand forward towards the rifle, but the mutant lord kicked it away, grabbing the girl by the top of her head.

Sixty seconds.

As the helmet cracked between the mutant lord’s fingers, Nephinae appeared behind in a cloud of psionic residue and drove an energy spear into its back, detonating. Smoke bellowed and chunks of hard-light plating flew off the armor, allowing Nephinae to release an immense psionic bolt onto its skin from point-blank range, freezing it solid.

Released from its grip, Anastajia unleashed a stream of infernal flames, vaporizing the lord’s upper half in the process. As it slumped to the ground, the remaining mutants fled, scattering in all directions. Clean up operations are all that remain.

​