Chapter Text
I woke up, ready for another terrible day. I crawled out of my tube and stroked the dust off my antennae. It was unthinkable that the howler still hadn't been captured. It had been three days since that thing escaped, but all we had to show for it was some distant images and disastrous aftermaths. Thanks to that, I hadn't gotten much sleep.
My exoskeleton creaked. I picked at the dust in the joints before I slipped into my uniform and skimmed through the messages on my interface. There simply weren't enough enforcers and soldiers to cover every point of egress. The howler was fast, strong, and above all, unpredictable.
It wasn't feasible to call down more vessels either. As much as I wanted the howler gone, anyone in the sector would know something was wrong if multiple vessels had abandoned their usual patrols. This embarrassment to the Fyrix could not leave this planet.
I brushed a frond from my overhead garden away from my face before sitting down. I'd been forced to up the minimum squad sizes to four. Any fewer than that and they'd become targets. I looked at the most recent image and twisted my palps. It didn't help that it'd managed to cover itself in makeshift armor.
The armored suits of the whifts had been sliced apart and rearranged with hooks and sashes. The patchwork suit hung off its body in tattered scraps, its eyes peering from behind two slashed slits. From behind that mask it was somehow even more terrifying.
The armor wasn't as sturdy as an exosuit, but it was aggravatingly effective against kinetic rounds, and so I'd been forced to disseminate all the plasma rifles I had at my disposal. The very idea of handing out plasma rifles to enforcers rankled me. I knew I was going to lose prominence over this. The question was how much.
If the Fyrix were as despicable as the other races we would've been able to handle this easily. It was our perfect and peaceful society that made us vulnerable like this. Such an event on the surface of Luoma was unthinkable, and yet here we were, suffering from our success. If we'd been the Turbs it would've been a simple matter of dispatching dissector drones and waiting for the howler to be cut to ribbons by a thousand vibrosaws, thus sharing the fate of many a Turbish outlaw.
I'd sent in an order for a few last night. I'd made up some excuse about repurposing them for gardening. I couldn't let the Turbs know that we actually intended to use them the intended way. Though it would take three days for them to arrive. That was just a back-up plan, however. The howler couldn't evade us forever. I had many more backup plans.
I unstopped a bottle of spiced hisk and drank it down, eyeing the latest sighting. We'd been sealing up most of the remote entrances, but that just made it appear in the denser areas. It was becoming harder and harder to cover up its existence. Several houses had been broken into and ransacked; seemingly just for the sheer joy of destruction because nothing was actually taken.
Keeping the residents quiet was its own challenge. Several volleys of nanthe had been exchanged, I've been told. Requiting my whifts' lost honor would be a duty for another day. I sat down and ran a finger around the rim of my bottle, staring at the flickering image on the interface.
I should've shot it when I had the chance.
I brought the bottle to my palps and flicked my antennae. One of my whifts was approaching, apologetically, and more than a little distressed. I put down the bottle hard and emanated permission to enter. The door swung open.
"My saratan, it is good that you are awake." He paused, "There has been an... incident that requires your attention."
"First sleep I get in three days and I don't even have time to finish my hisk." I gripped the stem tight, "Let one of the whifts deal with it. #6 has been handling things well."
"With all due respect..." He paused again, emanating thoughtfully, "I think it would be best if someone of your authority was there."
I didn't like the sound of that... But what's another misery onto the heap. I drank as much hisk as I could and threw the rest to the ground. Let one of the manumit take care of it. I followed the whift with a foul mood all the way up to the Central Authority roof. It was a short skim from there to the site. The whift seemed hesitant to explain the actual situation.
The landing was on the outskirts of Nelexy, the opposite direction of where it should've been. That gave me pause. The howler seemed to be only getting better at misdirecting us.
As we swooped down I saw the strange congregation of whifts standing in a circle around some kind of tarp. I didn't get a good view before we landed, but the bump underneath it didn't seem large enough to be a corpse.
I stepped outside, my antennae whipping in the winds. That whift had been right. The group here smelled on the verge of a frenzy. I immediately asserted my authority. Everyone froze as all attention turned to me. I sensed the lingering emanations of despair, hysteria, and accusation. They were still thick. There was an odor I could not place.
I walked slowly through the throng, spying one whift scrubbing the carapace of another in the distance. I could smell the nanthe from here. Stars above, how much had they covered her with...? The culprit was pacing around hysterically, two whifts looking on at a distance, likely in fear of ending up like #66 over there. Others were sitting by themselves, gripping their antennae.
The group parted for me. They stared on in silence as I crouched and lifted the corner of the tarp. That's when the stench hit me. It hit me. I remembered now. The sick scent of burned flesh. The whifts around me turned away and emanated their revulsion. I steeled myself and pulled it off the rest of the way.
The sight made me dizzy with nausea. No, keep it together. Not with this many witnesses. I steadied myself and studied the sight like it was nothing. I've seen gore and death, but somehow this was worse.
It was someone's pet djeni, or at least that's what it used to be. The skull and feet were the only things that retained the original fur, but even those had been badly burned. The remnants of the fire were scorched into the grass nearby.
What kind of creature tortures an animal by burning it alive...? The kind that exists only to spread chaos and fear. I could see where it had been sitting from the imprint in the grass.
The organs were removed and sagged in a glistening heap. The bones had been discarded into another neat pile, plucked from the carcass and gnawed until only the connective tissues were left. The clean excisions, the methodical dissection...
The thought that this once adorable animal was inside the belly of that monster made me shake with anger.
An innocent life, consumed and destroyed simply to sustain a vile monster's reign of terror for another few days. I felt a renewed hatred for all the carnivores that polluted this system. I see now why that vyrek over there was inconsolable. I pulled the tarp back over the carcass and straightened, staring into the sky. One of my whifts approached.
It was #6.
"My saratan..." He stood beside me, "I do not think we can keep this secret for much longer."
"...I'm aware."
* * *
"An Inquisition of the Mandate!" I groaned, fiddling with my attire, "As always they expect me to just drop everything! You just know those sculptors are going to mess it up without me being there in the flesh."
"Yes, Quillion." Tick sang in response.
"Who was it this time?" I adjusted a stridulator and felt Tick tie another decorate sash around it.
"It was the Fyrix, sire."
"Oh, great..." I grumbled, "At least those arrogant bastards will be just as eager as me to wrap it. Downside is, I'll need to listen to Zharr speak the entire time. 'As expected of an offworlder!'" I rasped in mock-Fyrixian.
Tick nodded along as he continued to work with my attire.
"...I'm thinking, red, blue and gold on the first six legs, and then... blue green and purple for the last six. It is the withering season, after all."
"Of course, sire."
I stared out from my grand spire as it scraped the upper atmosphere. The rarefied air shifted from blue to black, painting my sight with its wonderful gradient. The thin spires of other prominent estates were visible in the distance as they pierced through the clouds, but none were as wondrously tall as the Gloaming Palace.
The other races loved to mock the Konoi's spires, but it was really quite simple. How could you claim to be above your opponents when you weren't physically above them? I felt the whole tower sway.
"The lift has arrived." Tick announced.
"Good, good, good..." I scuttled away, pausing briefly to examine myself in the mirror before exiting onto the balcony. It was protected by a field, but the air was still chokingly thin.
It was a quick trip to the High Regent's orbital pleasure vessel (another advantage of our spires) and from there it was a day-long subspace jump before we reached the meeting point.
I boarded a shuttle, praying that this wouldn't be like the last one that had taken an entire season. The shuttle was nondescript and mixed among a couple dozen decoys. It brought me to a station in an undisclosed location and deposited me into a random part of the station. I yawned and stretched out my legs, bumping against the low ceiling.
"Let's get this over with..."
# ANNOUNCING QUILLION OF THE KONOI
The lift threw me into the central room. Several of the fifteen representatives had already gathered around the low platform. The light was low, the furnishings harsh and industrial. Ordinarily I would object, but it was woefully apt for the topics discussed in its presence.
The Arboran representative sat at the most prominent position. It meant both nothing, and everything. His name was Nex. He was cloaked in a simple robe of white with a single stripe of red around the shoulders. It was terribly plain, but someone of his stature had no need for pretension. Nex was flanked by the Klett and the Rhebb, one excited, the other dolorous.
"I see our guest of honor is yet to appear." I said, glancing irritably at the empty seat for the Fyrix representative.
"Welcome, Quillion." Nex said with a level voice, "It has not been long. It is good to see you again."
"Likewise." I said, dipping my 12 legs gracefully before taking my place at the platform. Nex was not someone you disrespected.
I settled in for a long span of doing nothing at all. If the Konoi were the cause of this inquisition I probably would've known about it. Considering I didn't even know what the subject was, it's unlikely I had anything to say.
# ANNOUNCING ZHELTARAVIK NOSKELIOUN-DRAXEMAR VYTHELTARNN OF THE VEXTRIDS
I chuckled to myself. I was only here in an official capacity, but it's possible I'd be asked to mediate. As the 15th ranking civilization in a council made up of the 15 most prominent civilizations, it was no secret that we just barely made the cut, but as a result, it was often up to us to act as the mediators between the much more powerful players.
It was position we'd come to carry with pride, to the extent that the others had (allegedly) conspired to skip over the 15th place entirely when the Myrmid rose to prominence, putting them immediately at 14th. Personally, I could've done without the Myrmids. The bloodsuckers were quite unsightly.
# ANNOUNCING GHOR'UIM OF THE TURBS
I watched him stride in on his stocky legs, taking in the room with pinpoint eyes nestled under a naturally armored brow.
"Quillion." Said the ever-terse Turb.
"Ghor'uim."
He grunted in response, "What's this about?"
"---Zharrwillannounceit!" Cut in Derron, the representative of the Klett, "Dontknowyetstillwaiting." She spluttered in the usual dizzyingly quick speech of her kind, It was hard to believe they were second only to the Arborans. It was likely that the hyperactive furballs had only achieved their position by virtue of the fact that they never stopped moving.
# ANNOUNCING TIKNIK OF THE FUROCULES
With that, every space was filled. Every space except for one.
"You'd think they'd at least have the decency to show up on time when they're the ones invoking the inquisition." I tapped my stridulators impatiently.
"Mmgn..." Ghor'uim grunted in agreement.
# ANNOUNCING ZHARR OF THE FYRIX
Zharr walked in clad in his simple, yet delicately embroidered robe. He took his place and seemed to think that it was only natural everyone should wait on him. The Fyrix operated under the general assumption that they could take out the other 14 members of the Sovereign Council if they'd only put their minds to it, and then congratulate themselves on their mercy when they didn't. That being said, as much as I hated to admit it, I liked their sense of style.
He gripped the table and stood there. The Fyrix were difficult to read, but he seemed to be scrutinizing the whole room.
"GETONWITHIT!!" Derron screeched.
Zharr flicked an antenna, "I'm merely observing; taking advantage of the fact that you lot often your wear your deceit so clearly on your faces." He turned his head, looking specifically at Ghor'uim, "Especially considering the culprit is likely in this very room."
My jaws hinged open and the room broke into murmurs. Nex leaned forward, raising his slender hand, "Those are some dangerous accusations, Zharr... You've yet to even inform us of which mandate has been broken."
"Only the 4th." He paused for effect and then started to recite quite contemptuously:
`Let it be recorded and universally observed that no member species of the Sovereignties, nor any agent, entity, or instrument thereof, shall engage in the direct biological alteration, (extending to both augmentation and degradation) of any sentient or proto-sentient lifeforms for the express purpose of militarization, optimization, or coercion of said species...! Furthermore---!'
"Yes, yes! Zharr... thank you for the reminder." Nex raised both palms now, trying to calm the room as much as himself, "If it is as you say, this is indeed a serious matter."
"Clearly it is not as obvious as you believe. It seems that one of us here could do well with a reminder." Again, he turned to face Ghor'uim.
The Turb gripped the platform and leaned dangerously, "Seems there's something wrong with your neck, Fyrix. Want me to fix it?"
Zharr looked pleased with himself, "See how quickly they resort to threats of violence...? Is it really a wonder why you're the most likely culprit?"
"It wasn't a threat; it was an offer to help." The Turb growled and then more voices joined the growing raucous as the two bickered back and forth. The volume rose and soon all sorts of limbs and appendages joined the conversation.
The Rhebb beside me leaned in, "There it is..." She groaned, and I offered a tilt of my jaws in commiseration.
"Please, please...!" Nex smacked the table, "The Mandate against biological alteration is one of our most sacred! It our foundation!" He cried out dramatically, "Without restraint there is nothing to stop the endless spiral of augmentation. All individuality eroded away in the name of efficiency...! It always ends the same way. Total assimilation and dominion...! We've seen it before, and we were formed so that we may never see it again. Zharr, it is not something that would be broken lightly."
That earned a solemn silence. There were precious few beings who still existed that remembered those times, but there wasn't anyone who hadn't heard the stories.
Of course it was Zharr who broke that silence, "We're in total agreement, Nex. And yet we've all rid ourselves of our natural lifespans! It seems to me that if one deems it righteous enough, these warnings need not apply!" He turned to the Turb representative again, but this time Ghor'uim didn't take the bait.
"YOUSTILLHAVENTTOLDUSWHATTHISISALLABOUT!!"
Nex glanced down at Derron, "Yes, quite... I'm sure you would've have called this inquisition without some sort of evidence to your claims."
"You think me so foolish?" Zharr tapped into the interface in front of him, "On date 23953 an unregistered vessel was detected drifting dark into our sector en route for Khellus IV." He pulled up an image of a ruined ship unlike any I'd ever seen on the central holographic display, "It was intercepted by one of our patrols and boarded. It was initially believed to be a rather unfortunate smuggling vessel, but inside was this..."
I flinched back. So did everyone else except for the Turb and the Myrmid. The visage of the snarling beast seemed to leap out from the center of the platform as it was captured mid lunge. Its eyes were pinpoint pricks of black and green and its teeth were bared. I'd only barely noticed the Fyrix soldier that it was lunging after. I glanced at Zharr and then back at the creature, comparing the sizes in disbelief.
"This should be new to all but one of you. This creature is a previously unrecorded organism, and it nearly killed that boarding party." The image switched, "Here you can see it using the remains of its own kind as a weapon, which of course it had previously cannibalized."
I felt like I was going to be sick. Derron actually was sick. Even the Myrmid looked taken aback. Nex looked a little paler than usual, but that didn't stop his steady stare.
"Thanks to our heroic efforts we were able to capture it alive. We performed several tests on it..." More images and its vacant stare, "And ultimately we determined that it's not intelligent in the traditional sense, but instead possesses frighteningly sharp tactical instincts. It is, in effect, a weapon in the shape of a living thing."
"That is indeed quite concerning..." Nex agreed, "But you are invoking the 4th Mandate, not the 16th."
"I've sent the data to your terminals." Zharr said, and sure enough, mine lit up, "This should dispel any of those lingering doubts. It's quite conclusive."
To be honest, I didn't know how to read this, but Nex was staring at it extremely seriously. He flexed his knuckles and worked his jaw. There seemed to be a simmering fury in his ancient eyes. It was the first time I'd ever seen such a thing.
"We don't know where it came from or who's responsible for creating it, but we've our suspicions." For the third time Zharr turned to the Turb, but this time, everyone's heads followed his.
The Turb glanced around at the staring faces and thrust out his arms, "I've never seen this thing before! By the Honor of Cindhu, I've no idea what you're talking about!"
"And the fact that it originated from the Turb sector is a mere coincidence then, I suppose?" Zharr stared him down.
"What is this nonsense?!" He cried out indignantly, "You think we made... This...?!" He gestured at the image still flickering in the center, "The very idea that we would never stoop so low as to create something so repulsive to fight on our behalf! Zharr I swear on my honor that I will make you pay for---!"
"Please! This is an Inquisition of the Mandate, not an interrogation!" Nex suddenly shouted, "Zharr, you're correct. This is very concerning. This is now the number one priority, but I request you keep your theories to yourself."
"If I must." Zharr said breezily, "We would have handled this ourselves, but unfortunately this extends outside our sector."
"Wait!" Ghor'uim pounded his fist, "Let me see it! You say you've captured it alive...? Well I think we'd all like to see it for ourselves!"
"Unfortunately." Zharr folded his hands, "It's dead. It went mad and tried to escape its cell, so we were forced to terminate it." He played some video of the thing bashing against the metal wall, screaming like madness itself.
"That is convenient..." Turning to Nex, "This is clearly some ploy against us! The Fyrix didn't care when we claimed Mamaroon I, II, and III, but the moment we've found Veltrium they're suddenly claiming it's theirs!"
"The Fryix don't need to call an Inquisition to get what they want, Turb." Zharr said dangerously, "It's you who's looking for an advantage over us, and this beast is clearly that."
I glanced at the somber Rhebb, wondering if another war was going to break out in front of our very eyes. I had no doubts the Turbs were formidable. By all conventional accounts they were ranked higher than the Fryix, but I didn't want to see what those arrogant invertebrates were capable of when they were serious.
"Enough of this!" I cried out despite myself, and to my surprised managed to silence the shouting match.
"Yes, Quillion...?" Nex asked, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes.
"This is ridiculous..." I sighed, "Zharr, is there any reason you won't let us see the body?"
"Perhaps later..." The Apex actually acquiesced, "That is not important right now. We've given this Inquisition more than enough evidence to move forward."
There was a silent agreement among the fifteen most powerful beings in the galaxy. We all looked at the image frozen in the center. It sent a brand new chill down my spine. Unfortunately, the topic of which species to receive the ever-prying eye of an Inquisition sparked another wave of arguments when it was suggested it should be the Turbs.
The whole room roared and I could only shake my head. I don't think I was going to be returning to my spire any time soon.