Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

# Welcome back, DOCTOR_ZYRRS Galactic Standard Time is 43.726---a well-measured moment in the grand design! You are connecting from FYRIX_CENTRAL_AUTHORITY

# It has been 197.388 phases since your last access. The garden now flourishes with 12,876 active buds. 2 nodes pending recalibration. 74 roots have been trimmed. 5 nodes are in isolation pending integrity diagnostics.

# Current status: 99.9946\%
# How does DOCTOR_ZYRRS wish to nourish our garden...?

>>OPEN_DIRECTORY root_14b->bud_17
# bud_17 is protected under THORN_LEVEL_5 classification. Please insert sufficient clearance token in order to bloom this bud.

# Token Insufficient
# Token Not Recognized
# Token Not Recognized
# GRAFTER DETECTED LOCKING GARD---
# Token Recognized, DOCTOR_ZYRRS has been registered with THORN_CLEARANCE_5

>>OPEN_DIRECTORY root_14b->bud_17

root_14b->bud_17
├── INCIDENT_OVERVIEW
├── VESSEL_MANIFEST
├── VESSEL_LAYOUT
├── AUDIO_LOGS
├── UNKNOWN_DATA_ARCHIVE
├── BIOLOGICAL_SAMPLES_REPORT
├── VISUAL_RECON_IMAGERY
└── TRANSMISSION_LOGS

>>OPEN_DIRECTORY UNKNOWN_DATA_ARCHIVE

root_14b->bud_17 UNKNOWN_DATA_ARCHIVE
├── NOTES
└── ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

>>READ NOTES

# "This is an archive of all the data recovered from the vessel's internal computer system. Though we were able to extract the high and low energy states within the magnetic disks and store them here, they are unreadable and incompatible with our data structures. All attempts at analysis thus far have been fruitless."

"It is unclear what purpose they serve and whether or not they're related to the creature"
>>READ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
# File Type Not Recognized

# New Hardware Detected
# DOCTOR_ZYRRS added ZYRRS_GARDEN to the CANOPY
root_14b->bud_17 UNKNOWN_DATA_ARCHIVE
├── NOTES
├── ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
└── ZYRRS_GARDEN

>>INSTALL ZYRRS_GARDEN->Zyrrs_Awesome_Experimental_Alien_Reformatter_v0-98.XN7

Progress [████████████████████] - COMPLETE
# New Seed Planted in Garden

>>EXECUTE Zyrrs_Awesome_Experimental_Alien_Reformatter_v0-98.XN7 X ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

Progress [████████████████████] - COMPLETE
# Execution Successful

>>READ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
SWYgeW91IGNhbiByZWFkIHRoaXMsIHlvdSBtdXN0IGJlIHByZXR0eSBjbGV2ZXIsIHJlY29nbml6
aW5nIGJhc2U2NCBlbmNvZGluZyBsaWtlIHRoYXQuIEkgZG9uJ3QgaGF2ZSBtdWNoIHRvIHNheSB0
byB5b3UsIHRoaXMgd2FzIGp1c3QgbWVhbnQgdG8gYmUgc29tZXRoaW5nIHRoYXQgd291bGQgbG9v
ayBsaWtlIGNvcnJ1cHRlZCBkYXRhLCBidXQgY29uZ3JhdHVsYXRpb25zISBNb3N0IG9mIHRoZSBj
b3JydXB0aW9uIGFmZmVjdHMgYWZ0ZXIgdGhpcyBvbmUgYXJlIGp1c3QgYmFzZTY0IGVuY29kZWQg
TG9yZW0gSXBzdW0sIGV4Y2VwdCB0aGUgbmV4dCBvbmUuIEdvdHRhIHBhZCBtb3JlIHNwYWNlIQo=
...
[28390 Corrupted lines omitted]
>>BEGIN_RECOVERY_SEQUENCE

Progress [████████████████████] - COMPLETE
# 8.91\% Successfully Recovered

>>TRANSLATE FYRIX_SIMPLIFIED
Progress [--------------------] - FAILED
# No Applicable Language Detected

>>INSTALL ZYRRS_GARDEN->Please_Let_This_Work_Howler_to_Fyrix_Translator.XN7

Progress [████████████████████] - COMPLETE
# New Seed Planted in Garden

>>EXECUTE Please_Let_This_Work_Howler_to_Fyrix_Translator.XN7 X ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

Progress [████████████████████] - COMPLETE
# Execution Successful

>>READ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

[Recovered Log #1, 04-07-2083]

This is Technical Sergeant Eigen Morris, Service Code #6021. If you are reading this, you are already aware of the fate of the USSS Hephaestus. At the time of writing this I am the only survivor left aboard. Two hours ago at 8:11 PM Earth time there was a multistage structural failure of the bulkheads in sectors A, C, and F which caused an immediate loss of pressure and atmosphere control.

I believe this was caused by unexpected creep fatigue between the adhesive, barrier, and compatibility layers of the outer hull, but there is no way for me to determine this conclusively. After withstanding 104 days in deep space, thermal stress is the only suitable explanation I can imagine at this time, and if you have made it this far, I beg of you to examine the lamination between the radiation shielding and aluminum lattice of your ship.

This computer in the botany lab is the only means I have to record this message, and I pray that it find its way back to the peoples of Earth. I do not know how much longer the backup batteries will run. The entirety of sector E has detached from the main body. I can watch it drift away as I type this message and within the day the distance will become insuperable.

Repeat, I am the only survivor. It happened too quickly for the others to react. I was in the process of leaving the laboratory after having finished work on my samples when I saw the hull tear itself open like a bag of chips. In an instant the corridor filled with plumes of white vapor. I saw the moisture boil off the bodies of the three people inside before everything vanished through the tear in the hull. It stole the air from my lungs and my skin felt like it had been sunburned. I was somehow able to seal the hatch door before I collapsed. I woke up after the oxygen had returned.

I fear I do not have the time to recite the names of all thirty-nine crew mates that we have lost, but the bodies of First Officer Doris Eisenhower, First Officer Taylor Tate, and Chief Assistant Michael Scarlet are with me. They threw themselves at the door shortly after it was shut. They are outside. It is impossible to look at the remains of the USSS Hephaestus without staring past their dead faces. There is nothing I could have done for them. Nothing...

In any case, I fear I will not fare much better. The console is flickering. The backup power appears to have been damaged in the separation. To my family, I carried your love with me into the unknown, and now I will bring it to an even greater unknown. Know that I will always love you.

Technical Sergeant Eigen Morris, signing off.

[Recovered Log #2, 04-08-2083]

I've done it!

The room containing the aft reactor has come along with my ruined hunk of starship. I hesitate to call it luck, but I've managed to restore power to this portion of the ship. Shortly after the backups failed, I decided to don my EVA suit and survey the destruction.

I have no words to describe the desolation I felt. It hit me then... Everyone really is dead. Humanity's mission to visit the first Earth-like planet has failed. It's difficult to believe that the scattered field of debris outside was once the USSS Hephaestus. I held myself and cried for a long time. I was prepared to let go, but when I tore myself away I realized that the reactor room was attached to mine. I was only able to access it from the outside, but I've since then sealed the main exit and cut through the dividing wall to create a new passage to my impromptu lifeboat. I've patched several holes and it took most of the day to confirm the wiring and refigure it for a drastically lower power output, but I have power!

It feels good to bask in the artificial lights again and feel the simulated gravity pulling me down. It is a good thing I am up to date with my ferroformic injections. I cannot stay for long, though. The USSS Hephaestus is drifting further away.

[Recovered Log #3, 04-09-2083]

I have confirmed that there were no other survivors. The wreckage of the Hephaestus has drifted over two kilometers away now. I'm not sure I can risk another trip. Even with the nitrogen I was able to salvage from the wreckage, the distance has become too great and I must ration what I have left.

It is an odd feeling, floating through the twisted corridors that used to be so familiar. I don't know. I'm trying not to think about it with limited success. I had to move the bodies outside the hatch door. I couldn't stand looking at them every time I left. Their bodies were bloated, almost as if they had drowned at sea and washed up weeks later. The skin was so red, and their tongues... Eyes shriveled and bulging... It hurts.

I've tethered the three bodies to the side of the hull and left them outside for now. I cannot bear to leave them to drift in space. I would do the same for the others, but fuel and time limits me. I secured those I could to the wreckage while I was there, but at least a dozen more are lost. It is my hope that one day they might be recovered.

I visited the helm and was able to confirm that the squeal was successfully sent towards Earth. It was unable to send any detailed diagnostics of our situation, but if is you whom it has summoned, I hope that this document has cleared up any confusion. It almost slipped my mind, but I've also scrawled the trajectory of my shelter and the relative location of the ship at the time of the incident onto the helm with my survival knife. Is that what led you to find this...? I can only wonder.

I salvaged what I could from the ship. I won't bother to report a detailed list of what I've taken; you should be aware of the contents of the standard supply kits. I also gathered what rations and canisters I could, as well as the fuel rods and several replacement lights.

To bring them back to my shelter, I created a makeshift skiff and tethered it to my waist. I expended several canisters to get it up to speed and several more to arrest my trajectory. I did not have the luxury to drift slowly. Arresting the skiff proved its own challenge, but I have with me now all I could manage.

[Recovered Log #4, 04-11-2083]

They looked so betrayed... Was there truly nothing I could have done? These situations demand decisiveness. That is why I'm alive and the others are not. Decisiveness. It was over one century ago, but I recall the sinking of the USS Squalus. I understand now; I understand the grief that must have torn at his soul when he sealed his best friend behind that door. He saved the rest of his crew, but some part of him must have died down there.

It keeps repeating in my head again, and again, and again. The looks on their faces... My hands tremor as I'm typing this. Is it nerves? It's not the nerves; it's frustration; it's reproach. I put myself back in that situation time and time again. The vacuum in my throat, the moisture boiling off my skin. I stumble forwards. It's an odd feeling, your ribs creaking and your chest swelling as if you're taking in breath even as you choke.

I was forced to close my eyes. I knew what was there, and I threw my weight against it. My head was going at that point. I felt my hands wrap around the lever, and I pushed. Then I opened my eyes. I had to confirm I'd sealed it, but I wish I'd kept them shut.

I've consulted my body numerous times. It knows it could've lasted another few seconds. If I'd known, if I'd thought... Maybe I could've saved them. I could've lasted another few seconds. How close were they? I don't know. I really don't know. If I'd waited, maybe I wouldn't be alone. Maybe I would've died. Maybe it would've been better that way.

They're still out there, lashed to my keel like ghastly ornaments. I've already consumed one kit's worth of sertraline. It hasn't helped anything. I'm sorry, Doris. I'm sorry, Taylor. I'm sorry, Mike. This journey's got the best of me, andSdsbCBiZSBW5nIHlvdSBzb29uLiBJJ20gcGxhbm5pbmcgdG8gY29uc3VtZSBhIGxldGhhbCBkb3NlIG9mIGRpYXplcGFtLiBJIGNhbiBvbmx5IGhvcGUgaXQncyBsZXNzIHBhaW5mdWwgdGhhbiB0aGUgZGVhdGhzIEkndmUgZ2l2ZW4geW91LgoKR29vZGJ5ZSwKRWlnZW4gTW9ycmlzCg==

[Log #5 Terminally Corrupted]
[Recovered Log #6, 04-15-2083]

The mission is alive!
My hands are still shaking as I type. My body is struggling to cope with the wounds. It's something I can scarcely explain, but in that writhing, gasping seizure, it told me what to do. I've spent the last four days working on this project, and finally it has borne fruit! I have calculated my new trajectory.

There is an intrinsic beauty to mathematics that transcends its utilitarian purpose. It's something I've been hitherto ignorant of, but working this cosmic cartography without the aid of simulation software, it feels as if I've peered inside the universe's sanctum and found something close to the truth in our tensor calculus. You simply must see my work!

[Attached File, trajectory-pg1.jpg]
[Attached File, trajectory-pg2.jpg]
[Attached File, trajectory-pg3.jpg]
[Attached File, trajectory-pg4.jpg]
[Attached File, trajectory-pg5.jpg]
[File Corrupted]
[File Corrupted]
[Attached File, trajectory-pg8.jpg]

GNhbiByZWFkIHRoaXMsIHlvdSdyZSByZWFsbHkgcXVpdGUgY2xldmVyIQo=Everything must be exact... There's no room for error. The relativistic calculations gave me the most headache, but with the data I was able to salvage from the central computer and my own memories of the event, I have calculated the exact path my vessel will take, and how to correct it.

I repeat, the mission is alive!

[Recovered Log #7, 04-15-2083]

I've implemented the adjustments outlined in my previous entry, and despite the mass of my vessel, the remains of my nitrogen stockpile were sufficient to alter its course. I believe I've acted in complete accordance with my calculations. If this new trajectory fails to rendezvous with Epsilon B at the perihelion for the gravity assist, the fault lies in my execution, not in my mathematics.

Nitrogen tanks are not designed for such delicately portioned thrust, but I've repurposed some of the gas burettes from the botany lab in order to control it better. I believe I am now on the original designated path. It is with some regret that I deviate from the trajectory I'd described on the helm of the USSS
Hephaestus, but there will be no need to find me if I am no longer lost!

I can only imagine the looks on your faces when you land on Tabula and find me already there! I have done everything I can, and now I must simply wait.

[Recovered Log #8, 04-18-2083]

Supplies have become a concern. It means nothing if my vessel reaches Tabula after I've already succumbed to starvation or asphyxiation. I've secured several months worth of provisions, but the prime threat is the oxygen generator. It's not healthy to begin with, and while I've the means to keep it running a while longer, according to my calculations it's untenable.

The energy necessary to cleave the carbon and oxygen bond from my exhalations is the most significant strain on my limited power, and considering the length of this journey, it appears I'll run out of energy cells before reaching my destination should I continue to use it. Not to mention the carbon slag it's been spitting out. It's quite low tech, but seeing as I'm in the botany lab, I've got everything I need.

Using artificial light to nourish plants should be more energy efficient than relying on the oxygen generator. I already had several modified algae cultures percolating before the incident which we intended to introduce into the Tabulan ocean, butTG9yZW0gaXBzdW0gZG9sb3Igc2l0IGFtZXQsIGNvbnNlY3RldHVyIGFkaXBpc2NpbmcgZWxpdC4gQ3JhcyB1cm5hIG5pc2wsIGF1Y3RvciBldSBlbmltIGFsaXF1YW0sIGNvbnNlY3RldHVyIGNvbW1vZG8gZHVpLiBVdCBlbGVtZW50dW0gbGVvIHNlZCBjdXJzdXMgdWxsYW1jb3JwZXIuIFNlZCBiaWJlbmR1bSBuZXF1ZSBzaXQgYW1ldCBsYWNpbmlhIGF1Y3Rvci4gQ3VyYWJpdHVyIHNpdCBhbWV0IGZldWdpYXQgdG9ydG9yLCB2YXJpdXMgY29tbW9kbyBqdXN0by4gUXVpc3F1ZSB2YXJpdXMganVzdG8g

[Log #9 Terminally Corrupted]
[Recovered Log #10, 05-01-2083]

dmVuZW5hdGlzIG5pc2kgY29uZ3Vlnnected the oxygen generator entirely. I wish I had more time, but so far the oxygen levels seem to remaining steady. I can feel my nerves fraying. It feels like I'm choking, though the levels are clear as crystal behind the glass of the display. Without the generator, it is terrifying to think that my fate now rests entirely upon my arrayed tubes of green sludge. It is most likely damage from my episode, but it feels as if there is a pinprick in my heart, like someone was directing the light of a magnifying glass into my ventricle. I'm aware of psychosomatic illnesses---we were all briefed on them as you will recall---but being stuck in this metal box drifting through space... It gives far too much time to dwell.

If only there were someoneLCB2ZWwgcG9zdWVyZSBsZW8gYmxhbmRpdC4gVXQgZ3JhdmlkYSB2b2x1dHBhdCBlbGl0IGF0IGZyaW5naWxsYS4gRnVzY2Ugbm9uIGxlbyBhdWN0b3IsIHJ1dHJ1bSBvcmNpIGFjLCB0cmlzdGlxdWUgZWxpdC4gTW9yYmkgdXQgcHVydXMgcXVpcyBtaSBwbGFjZXJhdCBkYXBpYnVzIHNpdCBhbWV0IGluIG1hc3NhLiBDdXJhYml0dXIgcGVsbGVudGVzcXVlIHR1cnBpadminister myself some more benzodiazepines. I do not need to worry about developing a dependency, seeing as I am almost out of them.

[Log #11 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #12 Terminally Corrupted]
[Recovered Log #11, 06-10-2083]

It's difficult to believe it's been two months since the disaster. I thought I was prepared for this aspect of space flight, but I've lost all concept of time. I sleep, and it's black outside. I wake, and it's black outside. My cot is beneath the plants of the botany lab. The sight of their green, leafy fronds is the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. They're alive, just like me, but they're much better suited to it. My mind is a haze. Each day passes with little recollection. It's incredible how you simply cease to think... It took me several days to work up the will to write this entry, and typing it is like catching moths. I find myself ruminating long and hard over words that would have come instantly to me before. Staring at the console and touching the keys is like dragging myself from a dream.

Until now the longest I'd ever spent alone had been the two nights camping in the smokies to earn my merit badges, after my parents had signed me up to the newly reestablished scouts following the resurgence of green fever in the 60's. It was nothing like this. At least there I had the birds, and the bugs, and the sky above me...

I tend to my plants, and then I inspect the reactor. I pore over the wires and the housings. Then I inspect the walls, and eat what little remains of my supplies before exercising and then returning to my plants. I've begun rationing what food I've left by introducing dehydrated algae into my diet. It can only generate oxygen when it is multiplying, and so consuming it kills two birds with one stone. It is a closed system, and I've been recycling all my waste down to my fingernails, but I'm concerned that the cycle is not as free from losses as I'd previously assumed. I cannot account for the lost compounds, but the growth medium appears to have become less vigorous over time. I may need to sacrifice my other plants to sustain the algae growth. I wish I'd recovered the projector from the media room. It is my greatest regret. I can hardly imagine how far away the USSS Daedalus has drifted now. Truly all I must do is wait, but that is more difficult than you could ever imagine. I believe it was Aristotle that said whoever can live alone is either a beast or a god. If you are with your crew when you read this, luckily you are neither.

I don't know who I'm kidding. No one's going to read this.

[Recovered Log #12, 07-22-2083]

The algae is dying. I've killed my azaleas to feed it. I killed them and it didn't help. The oxygen levels are dropping. I don't understand! I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.Idon'tcyBxdWlzIGNvbnNlY3RldHVyIGV1aXNtb2QuIFByb2luIGV4IGVyYXQsIG1heGltdXMgbGFvcmVldCBtYXNzYSBzZW1wZXIsIHVsbGFtY29ycGVyIGFjY3Vtc2FuIHR1cnBpcy4gQ3VyYWJpdHVyIGNv

[Recovered Log #13, 07-26-2083]

bmRpbWVudHVtIHBvc3VlcmUgZWxpdCBhIHByZXRpdW0uIEZ1c2NlIHNpdCBhbWV0IGZldWdpYXQganVzdG8uIER1aXMgZG9sb3Istarted with Doris. It wasdifficultgcXVhbSwgZGFwaWJ1cyBpZCBzZW1wZXIgY29uZGltZW50dW0sIHVsdHJpY2llcyB2ZWwgcXVhbS4gU2VkIHNpdCBhbWV0IGZlbGlzIdismembered the bodyG5lcXVlLiBFdGlhbSBsdWN0dXMgskin was like paper.

There was no blood. There was no fluid of any kind left after three months exposed to the vacuum of space. It hardly resembled a human. That made my work easier. I buried the larger parts in the vegetable beds. It will take some time for the roots to break them down. In the meantime I've powderized some of the smaller bones and introduced them to the growth medium.

It's too early to tell, but it seemstobmRpbWVudHVtIHBvc3VlcmUgZWxpdCBhIHByZXRpdW0uIEZ1c2NlIHNpdCBhbWV0IGZldWdpYXQganVzdG8uIER1aXMgZG9sb3IgcXVhbSwgZGFwaWJ1cyBpZCBzZW1wZXIgY29uZGltZW50dW0sIHVsdHJpY2llcyB2ZWwgcXVhbS4gU2VkIHNpdCBhbWV0IGZlbGlzIG5lcXVlLiBFdGlhbSBsdWN0dXMgsomeuse.

[Log #14 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #15 Terminally Corrupted]
[Recovered Log #16, 09-02-2083]

They've all been used up now. It worked. It's better this way. They were able to help me. They would've been proud. It seems to taste better than it once did. They would've wanted this. It is unfortunate that my body cannot shed muscle. The gene therapy was useful for retaining our physique in Zero-G but it's clear why muscle catabolism evolved. I've got to consume much more algae then I would've required otherwise.

Why didn't I grab that projector...? How long has it been since I've seen a movie or read a book. I would do anything to watch The Lord of the Rings again. I can't do anything. I'm totally powerless. Worthless. I don't want to die, but what can I do...? I don't want my body to drift in this sterile, miserable wreck for millions of years. I'm the saddest existence in all of humanity.

I've started replaying them in my mind. The books I used to read. The movies I used to watch. I try to piece them together from my memories. It's difficult to keep my mind from wandering and breaking the linear pace of narrative, but all this time alone appears to have blunted my mind's willingness to drift. It knows there is nothing new to be seen in this coffin of mine.

I'm fortunate to have been an avid reader in my youth. It is troubling, because even now I'm running out the most salient novels and treading down the path of pulp adventure titles of which I can hardly even recall save for the titles. When I reach a point I can't quite remember, I fill in the blanks all on my own. I like to think that my recreations are better than the source material.

[Recovered Log #17, 10-11-2083]

Time has lost all meaning to me. I'm not sure why I force myself to write these entries, but there needs to be some record of my journey. When I land on Tabula, and when the next crew finds me, these writings will be immortalized. I'll become the most famous explorer to ever live. The most famous survivor. My name will be on everyone's tongues.

My name...

My name is Eigen Morris.

[Log #18 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #19 Terminally Corrupted]

[Recovered Log #18, 01-29-2084]

ldHVyLiBWZXN0aWJ1bHVtIGZhdWNpYnVzIGx1Y3R1cyBsb3JlbSwgdml0YWUgbHVjdHVzIGxpZ3VsYSBjb252YWxsaXMgbm9uLiBFdGlhbSBiaWJlbmR1bSBkb2xvciB0aW5jaWR1bnQgdGVsbHVzIGxhb3JlZXQgc2FnaXR0aXMuIE1hZWNlbmFzIfeels wrong. Someone must have tampered with the temperature control. They want me to think it's safe. The readout claims it is 22 degrees, but it is wrong. They must seek to destroy the algae. They will regret antagonizing us.

[Recovered Log #19, 05-02-2084]

I've remembered the passphrase thanks to Nyria. Things have been much easier since I recruited her. The things outside are still tampering with my controls. They've become bolder as of late. I caught them tampering with the reactor. They must've thought I wouldn't notice that the dial on the reactor was rotated slightly off-center. I'd never leave it like that.

[Log #20 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #21 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #22 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #23 Terminally Corrupted]

[Recovered Log #24, 08-18-2084]

YW50ZS4gQ3VyYWJpdHVyIG5lYyBtaSBub24gcHVydXMgYXVjdG9yIHRlbXB1cy4gVmVzdGlidWx1bSB0ZW1wdXMgc2VtIGlkIG1hc3NhIGhlbmRyZXJpdCB2aXZlcnJhLiBWZXN0aWJ1bHVtIGxlY3R1cyB0ZWxsdXMsIG1heGltdXMgYWMgdm9sdXRwYXQgZXUsIGZhdWNpYnVzIGFjIG5pc2wuIFF1aXNx

The northern plains were calm, as expected. Thalric led the charge, his shield raised against the winds, though none dared challenge us. The clouds parted for him, a sign of favor from the Shaper, or so Corax claims.

Galen was restless today. He paced the edges of the encampment, muttering about the flickering of the stars. The others tried to quiet him, but he only laughed. "The sky is fraying," he said. He's a fool, of course, but we let him believe his nonsense. He’s earned it.

Khorrin is sitting by the fire, sharpening his knife. Truly I do not understand the Shaper's reasons for keeping such an unscrupulous hedge knight amongst the Wardens, but we must all have faith. "Save it for the darklings, Ryen." He had growled at me after noticing my leaden stare.dWUgdml0YWUgZXN0IGNvbnZhbGxpcywgaGVuZHJlcml0IGFudGUgZWdldCwgdWx0cmljaWVzIGR1aS4gUHJvaW4gcG9ydGEgdWxsYW1jb3JwZXIgYXVndWUgaW4gdGluY2lkdW50Lg0KDQpJbnRlZ2VyIHNpdCBhbWV0IHRpbmNpZHVudCB1cm5hLiBWaXZhbXVzIGFjIG1hdXJpcyBpZCBudW5jIGZyaW5naWxsYSB1bHRyaWNlcyBldSBxdWlzIGRpYW0uIFZpdmFtdXMgcGVsbGVudGVzcXVlIHZ1bHB1dGF0

ZSBsb3JlbSBldCBsYWNpbmlhLiBQaGFzZWxsdXMgcmhvbmN1cyBmZXVnaWF0IHR1cnBpcywgaWQgdmVzdGlidWx1bSBhdWd1ZSBmZXVnaWF0IGF0LiBQcm9pbiBldCBpcHN1bSB2b2x1dHBhdCwgbGFjaW5pYSBzZW0gYXQsIGxhb3JlZXQgZGlhbS4gQWVuZWFuIHNpdCBhbWV0IG1ldHVzIGZldWdpYXQgbGlndWxhIHByZXRpdW0gZWxlbWVudHVtLiBWaXZhbXVzIGFsaXF1ZXQgdG9ydG9yIGVnZXQgbG9yZW0gdWxsYW1jb3JwZXIgcG9ydHRpdG9yLiBDcmFzIGluIG5pc2wgcXVpcyBqdXN0byBhY2N1bXNh

[1102 Corrupted lines omitted]

[Log #25 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #26 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #27 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #28 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #29 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #30 Terminally Corrupted]
[Log #31 Terminally Corrupted]
[END OF FILE]

>>COPY ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ -> ZYRRS_GARDEN
# Bud successfully transplanted
>>DELETE Zyrrs_Awesome_Experimental_Alien_Reformatter_v0-98.XN7
# Bud trimmed

>>DELETE Please_Let_This_Work_Howler_to_Fyrix_Translator.XN7
# Bud trimmed

>>EJECT ZYRRS_GARDEN
# ZYRRS_GARDEN removed from CANOPY

>>EXIT
# Goodbye, DOCTOR_ZYRRS. Your session lasting 0.219 phases has ended. May the garden flourish in your absence!

Chapter Text

[14.893 phases earlier...]

I examined my teasing finger idly. Some dreadful valleys had appeared in the chitin and the sheen was beginning to fade. Stars streaked by in the viewfinder, stretching into long waving stalks as we rode through subspace. I sent out an emanation and within moments a whift was beside my station. I recognized his smell immediately as that of #20

"Fetch me my finger rasp."

#20 fluttered his thoracic flanges and bounded away from the helm. His emanation of [nab] was overbearing when mixed with [yaelg]. Perhaps the other Saratans would be impressed, but if he thought such obsequiousness would earn him Viraas, he would remain a whift for quite some time.

I surveyed my crew for lack of anything better to do. A dozen pairs of antennae peeked over the rims of their recessed consoles, twitching occasionally as they stared at their screens; reading the latest tale from the repository no doubt. Officially, it was looked down upon, but it was important to let the whifts have their deceitful pleasures, especially to ease the doldrums of subspace traversal.

Other members of the Sovereign Assembly would simply trust their computers to operate the helm, but that mindset was insidious. Left to fester it erodes discipline, erodes grace. The other members of the Assembly often question our methods even as their cultures wane before their very eyes. They are incapable of seeing the grander scheme of the grand design. It was almost pitiable. An antenna twitched, and just as the emanation of confusion reached my receptors the whift's voice rattled, "Nestiri, my Saratan! An observation I'd like to bring to your attention."

My emanation urged #8 to continue, "There is an aberrant object in the deep field scanner. It is shaped most strangely!" She tapped at her console and pulled it up on the main screen.

The holographic representation of the deep field scanner wobbled and struggled to capture its true shape from this distance, but it certainly was an odd one. It was sloped on one side, but mangled on another. If this were an asteroid its odd shape would earn much Viraas from collectors, but its several sprue-like projections were too numerous to be natural in origin. I fluttered my flanges in thought. The whole bridge was at attention now.

"I've taken it upon myself to run its coordinates through the electromagnetic waveguide system." Emanated #2 with a delicate blend of [yan] and [yond], "There are fluctuations. They appear to be fissile in nature, but far too deliberate to be from natural decay."

"So it's a vessel, and one with power..." It was strange the say the least. I rapped my lesser fingers against my seat then straightened, "Did you say fission?"

The whift emanated [palen] and my antennae flicked, "Alter course and rendezvous with this unidentified vessel." The long strands of stars stretched and bent into brand new shapes, "It's no wonder it went undetected until now." I'll need to give #8 some Viraas after this.

It was all so strange...

"Engage active field suppression. Spool the plasma cannons, then bring us in twelve skips from the vessel for analysis."

There were some curious emanations from the crew but it did not stop the order from being carried out in the required time. The active field hummed to life and filled the vessel with its warbling pulse. The bridge lit up as combat protocols were engaged.

"It appears to be a stricken vessel, but that begs the question... Why it is not transmitting a distress signal?"

"Perhaps it was destroyed."

No [yit]. No [yond]. I rounded on the whift who had spoken and felt nanthe rising in my gorge, "The standard Sovereignty UDT-e7 is no so fragile that mere structural failure would cause it to cease functioning! When I answered the distress call of the HF-GHERIPON it took two phases after it had already been swallowed by the system's star to stop transmitting!"

I efflugated with an accuracy betraying a career that had spanned thousands of whifts and struck the officer across the nasal ridge with my nanthe. Despite his graceless interruption he had the wherewithal to take it in stride, but quickly wiped it away lest it reduce his Viraas any further. He was #22, I filed the name away for later.

"Could sabotage be a possible explanation, my Saratan?" #2's elegantly posed question was refreshing after that boorish interruption from before.

"It wouldn't explain the other discrepancies."

The whole ship shuddered as we were pulled from subspace and stretched back into realspace. The vessel was too far to establish visual contact, but it was close enough to run the whole gamut.

"Full sweep." I reclined as my finger rasp arrived. I treated my chitin to its rasped blade as my whifts tapped at their consoles.

"No armaments detected, my Saratan!"

"Biometrics confirmed." Hummed #10 from behind, "There is a lot of noise... It's surrounding the entire vessel. It's almost impossible to see anything past it, but it appears to be vegetative in nature. There are compounds consistent with complex metabolism, however. It is likely that it is occupied."

"I've simulated its trajectory," Cried #1 from the helm, "it is bound for a gravity sling with Khellus IV before rendezvousing with Khellus II."

I paused with my rasp and stared at my fingers. That was not the trajectory of a distressed vessel... I straightened and tapped into my armrest. The bio scan was absolutely lit up. The Fyrix were famous for keeping vast amounts of vegetation inside our ships, but this was on another level. It was confusing, but not immediately threatening.

"Disengage active field suppression, but keep weapons hot. Engage secondary thrusters and bring us in visual range."

The antimatter engines roared to life. It pushed me into my seat and some of the whifts became visibly ill after so much time spent in subspace. If this were some elaborate trap, it failed to manifest as the pinprick that was the vessel appeared in the viewfinder.

"Hail the vessel."

I returned to my grooming, venting my irritation into the rhythmic rasp of metal against chitin. I slammed it down and straightened.

"Broadcast transmission across all frequencies!"

#8 flicked an overhead switch and I spoke, "This is Admiral Nestiri of the Fyrix fleet! Unidentified vessel, you are in violation of Code 311-b and Code 74-e! You are in controlled space under the jurisdiction of the Fyrix Sovereign Assemblage! Failure to respond to this official hail will result in seizure of your vessel and the incarceration of all aboard!"

I settled into my seat waiting for the response I knew wouldn't come. The craft was obviously damaged, but it wasn't a design I recognized. That left few legitimate options, and when you factored in the fission reactors and its strange trajectory intended to rendezvous without the need for engines, it was obviously some kind of smuggling vessel.

Khellus II was a designated nature reserve, but unfortunately that left it vulnerable to all sorts of unscrupulous activity. It was partially why we'd been patrolling in this direction. This destination couldn't have been coincidence. It was clever, I'd give them that. It was probably salvaged from a much larger ship and dropped off somewhere, far from any sensors before being sent on its way. Most ships had some form of active field suppression, but there was no need to suppress what you didn't even create. Without warping it left zero subspace residue. This thing was completely dark and nigh undetectable. It was pure chance that we'd passed by close enough to pick it up on the deep field scanner.

How unfortunate for them. I quirked my palps in amusement, but it quickly faded as I imagined all the vessels that must've come before this one. It was far too optimistic to think that such a clean and effective strategy would the first of its kind. Still, whoever was on that ship couldn't be happy.

"Prepare to board." I rose from my seat.

"...There is no docking clamp, My Saratas."

I efflugated at the feet of the whift, "Then we'll make one."

* * *

The helmet was placed over my head, my antennae folding neatly inside as it locked and hissed around my shoulders. The rest of the exosuit constricted until it conformed with every contour of my physique. I waved off my whift and strode down the spine of the ship. I passed by our own gardens and garlands, wondering if the smuggler possessed similar interests. The strike team was waiting for me in the lower bay, the docking clamp already extended against the unidentified vessel's outer wall. I waved in lieu of an emanation and filed into the boarding chamber. The impulse gel could form a seal against any surface when necessary. The door sealed behind us with a loud hiss.

There were five strikers apart from myself, each completely identical in their black exosuits apart from their designation. They were numbers 7, 18, 19, 22, and 29. My suit was adorned with some streaks of red as well as two decorative antennae feathering from my helmet. After looking over my whifts, I gave the order.

"Breach."

#18 and #19 sprung into action, working the plasma chamber and the torch in tandem as they began to cut into the vessel's jagged walls. It glowed white hot. Whatever metal it was constructed from dripped down and cooled in trails as they slowly carved an arch into the side. Weapons were raised. It fell away, struck the ground, and then bounced before beginning to float. The vessel didn't even have artificial gravity. Yet another luxury gutted to reduce the likelihood of detection. With a commanding gesture, we ducked under the arch and entered the vessel. If someone had been waiting on the other side with a plasma rifle, they would've easily taken me out. It was shameful, but it was impossible to focus on the mission with all this around me.

Unlike most Fyrix, I'd been on several different planets, and nothing quite prepares you for the initial shock of encountering such a vastly different culture. Their finest art might appear warped and lifeless as it occupies colors outside your own spectrum and their architecture is tailored to biologies incompatible with your own. The home world of the Kiluks is completely off limits due to the size difference. Every facet, every aspect of their life differs from yours and when it all hits you at once it feels like a bout of temporary insanity. That is what I was feeling now, though I should've been desensitized to it by now. Nothing was familiar except perhaps in the most reductive sense that the floor must be walked on and the space must be traversed, but that was only the beginning.

Foreign vegetation hung down from the incredibly high ceilings, A single vine sprouted hundreds of leaves, and there were several. Every flat surface was covered with bizarre scrawlings that spoke of an almost religious intensity. It made me uneasy. The species that still clung to this sort of mysticism were notoriously difficult.

We drifted into the space, sending various discarded articles spinning in our wake. It would take a lifetime immersed in the culture to identify the origin and purpose of every tool and pamphlet on sight. The strangest thing about them was that they were stacked in bizarre ways which could've only been intentional, but as to why I couldn't even hazard to guess. In the center was a caged off machine that hummed quietly; the reactor, most likely. The rest of the strike team was starting to recover from the overwhelming amount of new information. I brushed aside some hanging vines. They drifted away lazily to reveal the other end of the room. The only other opening beside the one we'd made was a large slice in the opposite wall. It seemed to mimic ours, except much larger.

I made a gesture and the five whifts fanned out across the wide space. It was always irritating being unable to use emanations in these suits, but while the Fyrix may have their reputation, even we relented in skipping the pheromonal synthesis apparatus in favor of combat efficiency. Still, I would've liked to use it. The fact that I had to rely on sight to tell my whifts apart always carried with it the ever-so-contrite realization that this was how most species of the sovereignties had to live all the time.

"Readings?"

"Atmospheric pressure is within tolerance." #7 stared at his wrist, "Oxygen levels are acceptable... No toxins present..."

He ran his teasing finger along his collar. It popped and hissed as his exosuit depressurized. My finger hovered over my collar to do the same when he suddenly lurched and folded over. His distressed retching loud in my comms as he seized and spun in the zero gravity.

#29 was the nearest and rushed to repressurize his suit. The others suddenly remembered to cover the entrance with their rifles. I watched as he grunted and groaned in distress. Was this some kind of neurotoxin our sensors couldn't recognize...?

Instead of expiring however, #7 eventually managed to compose himself, "Forgive me, my Saratan... This vessel..." He belched air through his flanges and sounded close to efflugating, "The stench is absolutely abhorrent..."

The comment garnered as much amusement as it did sympathy, but none of us dared deactivate our atmosphere control after that.

Flashing another set of gestures we drifted through the opening and struggled to remain alert as the sights became even more bizarre. The inscrutable scrawlings and peculiar piles continued, but the vegetation became even thicker. It was filled with harsh artificial light and one side of the wall was covered with rows and rows of clear tubing. It was filled with this strange green fluid. The fluid percolated along the length of the tube. It looked like blood pumping through artificial veins.

The source of the vegetation were the rows of elevated boxes filled with what must've been their native soil. The lack of gravity gave the vines the freedom to spread far beyond their roots. The vibrant blood-green of everything was impossible to ignore, but there was some grace in the grim. If possible, I'd like to cultivate these plants; but I was becoming distracted again.

The scanners had not lied; there certainly was a lot of vegetation. It appeared that the vessel was unmanned and was intended as a shipment of sorts, but just as soon as I relaxed, we drifted past the last box in the rows.

I caught it in my periphery, some mass of pink was nestled between the wall and the planter boxes. I swiveled to face it as the rest of the team came behind. Plasma chambers roared to life. It lied beneath a heap of ragged cloth, and then it did the unthinkable. It stirred.

More of it emerged, revealing the extent of its already prodigal bulk as a vertical row of bony profusions stretched its skin. The whole thing bent upwards, and then grew taller, taller... taller...!

I gripped my weapon tight and sensed the tension congealing all around us. Suddenly it made sense why the ceilings were so high. It was easily twice... no three times as tall as any of us, and as it turned, I realized what I'd been looking at the was its back. Its eyes locked onto me and I forced down an instinctive terror. Its forward facing eyes; its distinct pupils... It was looking at me. There was no ambiguity or grace; it was examining me and me alone. I was the center of its universe for this moment and I hated it. It looked like it was best deciding how to savage me. What was this creature...?

Its blood-green eyes flitted to my whifts and I knew that they'd be feeling the same atavistic terror that had gripped me moments ago. Its hideous mouth peeled apart to reveal teeth. The creature must've been carnivorous. The eyes, the teeth, the sheer enormity, it sent a shiver through me that must've not been felt since our kind first picked up tools. It was hairless expect for its matted mane which covered most of its face. It spilled over its shoulders all the way down to its thorax. There was another patch of hair above these revolting, flapping lumps of flesh which must've been its genitals. Then it opened its broad mouth and let out such a guttural and bestial yawpping that it rattled my endoskeleton. It was low, almost too low to hear as it warbled madly, suddenly switching to higher pitch as its head tilted to one side like a broken flowerstem. I scrolled through my translator despite myself, but sure enough it didn't belong to any recognizable language. The whifts behind me drifted back, and to my credit, I stood my ground. The creature took one step forward on its too-long limbs and it struck me then. How was it walking without gravity...?

White light flared and streaked by, whizzing past me and then the creature. The glob of plasma struck the planter behind him and sizzled as it cooled to red, then black.

"Who---?!"

The creature bounded away, bouncing against the wall as its growl switched to yet another warbling pitch. Vines scattered in its wake like a breaker reef. Nanthe rose in my gorge, but the suit forced me to swallow it, "We're here to capture this creature, not kill it!" They should consider themselves fortunate that they could not receive my emanations as my own exosuit filled with [grund].

"But---" One spoke up, but wisely reconsidered.

I pulled on the stalk of my rifle and felt the plasma chamber fold away, allowing the energy cell which usually ignited the plasma to be used as a stun stick. There weren't many complex organisms that could remain unaffected by electricity. The others followed suit as the towering creature loped back into view, careening from wall to box with a deathly racket. It reached for me and caught only the sparking end of my stun stick. It let out a high keening cry as its whole body went rigid. I felt a rush of satisfaction and could practically smell the [nanne] from my whifts. Then its strange gravity pulled it downwards. Its hand fell away from the tip as it toppled. I surged forwards with my thrusters to stick it again, but it recovered too fast. It scrambled, babbling, and dove for its nest.

I flashed another hand signal and my whifts closed in behind me. The sight of the monster falling had done wonders for their morale, but it wasn't captured yet. It picked up something white and spherical in both hands, choosing another lower pitch to babble with before standing up. It brought the object far behind its head. I paused, warnings screaming in my head as it perched on one leg and suddenly went horizontal. I moved on instinct. It was a blur, whizzing past my head before I could even register what had happened. One of my whifts was suddenly gone, his body flying backwards and striking the wall with a sickening gurgle across the comms. His exosuit was cracked. I stared in disbelief. His exosuit was cracked...?

The object spun into space as if in slow motion. All eyes followed its trajectory. More of its shape appeared as it turned. The round top was deeply cracked and cratered. Then two sockets, and teeth... I seized in revulsion. It was the remains of a creature. I turned my attention to its nest, and saw the bones littering the matted rags. I heard a plasma rifle whine.

"No!" I roared over the comms, "We are going to capture it alive! We need it to know what the purpose of this vessel was!"

What affront to the design had I committed to deserve these whifts? I saw it reaching for another one of its grotesque trophies and surged ahead, my thrusters hissing and stick sparking. I swung my stun stick. It parried it with the back of its hand.

What...?

My arm flew behind me, the joint straining to absorb the velocity. My body was wide open, eyes staring as it lips peeled back. I hardly registered the impact of its foot against my thorax. I bounced hard. I felt my thruster struggling to correct my trajectory as the interior of the vessel streaked past my vision. The vibrant green canopy scraped over my suit as my body became tangled.

Its maddening babble echoed through the soup that was my thoughts, the lowest pitch yet. It must've been some kind of psychological assault, meant to terrify its prey. It was working. I felt at my exosuit in a daze. If not for its liquid alloy mesh the impact would've killed me for sure.

It was strong... stronger than even its enormous size should've accounted for. It was impossible to imagine, but it could've only come from a high gravity world. I felt it in the impact; it was much too dense for it to have been otherwise. The creature was in the midst of my whifts, swinging something long. The one against the wall... #22... He was out of commission, but there were only three fighting...? In that instant, I felt more hatred for that missing whift than I did for this bloodthirsty monster.

It swung wildly. My whifts maneuvered gracefully to occupy the spaces both above and below to keep its overwhelming force from finding a singular target. #19 tried to come up behind, but it was impossible for them to get close without risking a strike from its long metal rod. Every time one thrust out with their stun stick, it simply leapt back and babbled.

It connected with the shoulder of #18 with a terrible crack. The mesh broke instantly and the whift went flying. I scrambled for my stun stick and found it tangled not far away. With only two left engaging the beast, it thrust its own stick, catching #19 in the thorax. He doubled over and then the beast raised the bar high over its head, its teeth bared in a bestial snarl

I didn't want to look, but just before it came down #7 lashed out with his sparking stick. It chose to leap back instead of complete the lethal strike. It possessed some sort of predatory intelligence. After that first paralyzing attack it was doing everything in its power to avoid the tip of our sticks. #7 wouldn't last much longer. I gripped the barrel of my stick and folded it over.

Change of plans.

The plasma chamber whirred to life, but it was agonizingly slow. I had to watch as it grabbed the barrel of the #7's stick and yanked. The whift made the mistake of holding onto it as he went sailing over the creature's shoulders and into the tangle of vines. I sawed my palps, cursing the laws of nature as the beast caught me from the corner of its eye.

It stood erect and rolled its massive shoulders. I heard the unnerving crackle of its joints as it considered me. I raised the weapon. It swung its metal rod. I squeezed the trigger, and felt it ripped from my hands. I stared in disbelief as it babbled and caught the rifle after it had careened off the wall. It looked like a toy in the thing's hands. The creature examined it, and then threaded its finger through the tiny catch.
How...?

My blood ran cold as it leveled the plasma rifle at me, it teeth bared and eyes wide. How did it know...? It growled another ululating series of sounds and then screamed. Its whole body went rigid. The rifle fired and sent a blindingly bright glob past my shoulder and into the wall.

I looked down in disbelief to see a whift jamming his stick into its leg. It convulsed, and then the giant toppled over. It was #22 despite his cracked thorax plate. I wondered if I even had enough in my glands to give him what he deserved.

"Don't break contact for even a moment! Apply maximum power! It's more resilient than it looks!" I ordered, hurrying to its prone body.

I grabbed the capsule off my belt and poured out the white gel, "If you're still conscious, come over here and give me your suspension gel!" I screamed into the comms as it oozed out.

I had enough to secure your average Fyrix, but this was anything but average. #7 and #19 appeared, nursing their wounds as they tossed their toolbelts at me. #18 was still down after taking the full brunt of that impromptu weapon to the shoulder. Even with my considerable Viraas, losing a whift like that wasn't something any Saratan wanted to experience. The suspension gel started to coat its body. The creature's scream turned to a dying wheeze as its spasming muscles refused to draw more breath into its lungs. Hopefully it wouldn't expire before the gel had finished its work. #22 continued to jam his stick into its leg, the surrounding skin turning black. Seeping and crawling slowly, soon enough its whole body was covered.

"Break contact."

The whift hesitated, and then pulled the stick away. The creature's muscles twitched as it gasped for air. The moment it could breath it started to thrash and scream. The gel bulged as its enormous limbs struggled inside. I knew that even it couldn't break through suspension gel, but the fact that it could stretch it at all made me all the more uneasy.

"Rot and musk...!" Breathed the whift, and the other two shared the sentiment, "What pit did this putrefier crawl out from?"

"That's for the scientists to figure out."

I hated needing to point, but I selected the whift that had merely been tossed, "Prepare a gurney and tell the bridge to begin anchoring the vessel for subspace towing, then tell Mirka to prepare for a full scansweep of this place." I paused, "And bring a medic."

#7 flashed a gesture in lieu of an emanation and drifted off towards our ship and I looked down at the howling beast. Its head rattled erratically as it cycled through several savage pitches.

I had no doubt that it would've loved nothing more than to rip my limbs from their joints and add my exoskeleton to its hoard, but now I was confronted with the much greater mystery. What in the world was this thing, what was it doing here, and what was the purpose of this vessel?

"May we cover its mouth...?" Asked #19

"It appears to breathe from there." I added, but moved the suspension gel over the offensive opening. The babbling ceased instantly. The two holes above its mouth flared open as its terrifying eyes went wide.

"It doesn't appear to have harmed it." I was thankful to have that maddening babble out of my brain case. I'd be hearing that in my dreams.

The gurney appeared soon after. We were forced to use two in order to heave the beasts' massive bulk into the air. Its strange gravity dispersed once it was further from the ground and I floated alongside it. I felt my chitin grating as something that shouldn't be moving seemed to grind against the back plates of my thorax. An overpowering stench was leaking into my suit. It must've been torn open somewhere.

The unknown vessel was a hive of activity now, whifts and thyss working in tandem to document every corner of our discovery. As we passed through the arch and into the reactor room nanthe filled my gorge at the sight of #29 floating in the corner. He reacted at the sight of the beast.

He rushed forwards and smashed the bridge of his weapon into the creature's face. The gel stretched disconcertingly as it struggled and groaned. I tore the weapon from his hands and threw it away. I didn't blame him. I felt like doing the same. The others restrained him

"You fled from your designation." I said with a measured tone, wishing once again that I could truly express the truly profound depths of my disappointment with [cret] and [beas] through these suits.

My voice seemed to snap #29 from whatever temporary madness had taken hold of him and I continued, "Prepare yourself for aratrost and report to the bridge."

He let out a strangled sound, but was smart enough to realize that acceptance was the only way to retain some Viraas. He would suffer for it, and it would be long, but he knew it would be better than joining the threll.

"Thank you, My Saratan..."

I heard a strange gurgling and returned my attention to the... thing... The fleshy pyramid on its face was crooked. It seeped a crimson red fluid. Was that its blood...? At least we know what color it was now.

The twin rivers soaked its whiskers and stained the suspension gel. The blood burbled as the skin which lubricated its eyes started to twitch. I watched impassively, and then twisted my palps.

"Uncover its mouth already!"

A whift sent an impulse through the gel and it retreated from the orifice. The creature sucked in an enormous breath into its chest until it stretched the gel. Compared to the Fyrix who aspirated through a series of spiracles and flanges, it seemed terribly inconvenient to be limited to only two orifices, but what a cache of breath it could hold!

The pinkish hue returned to its skin, only for it to begin howling once more, cycling through pitches faster than ever. It grated against my receptors. I'd been planning to go easy on that whift during his aratrost, but this had changed my mind. I forced my nursing hand away from my creaking chitin. The gravity of the Fyrix ship hit me like, well... That creature. My leg buckled beneath me and I caught myself on the gurney. I waved away my whifts. It would take more than this to divest me of my Viraas, but I caught a glimpse of its face.

You could always tell where its predatory eyes were looking, but right now, it wasn't looking at anything. It was looking far beyond the hull, through space, and to galaxies beyond. Its mouth shifted from shape to shape as it let out the same guttural nonsense.

Something about all of this had deeply unsettled me. It was something more than the traumatic injury I'd suffered, or nearly meeting my end at the hands of an enormous predator. It was the way it pointed that rifle at me. It knew. Somehow, it knew... Who would stick that monster on a ship and send it on a suicidal course to Khellus II...?

I couldn't help but feel that this was only the beginning of something terrible.

Chapter Text

    
ENTER SCENE:
INT. UNKNOWN CELL - DIM AND CONFINED


The ceiling pushes down upon THE WARDENS OF LIGHT. They are forced to stoop 
their shoulders. They are sitting facing each other. RYEN---youngfaced and 
battered---rubs the dried blood from under his nose. It flakes to the floor 
beside NYRIA and KAEL.

        KAEL
    They got you good, Ryen.

        CORDYLL
      (Through grit teeth)
    Beating someone who's already been defeated... What darksome, evil things.

In the background, THALRIC---resolute jaw set---stares fixedly at the wall.  
KHORRIN---sharp eyes filled with dark promise---taps his fingers against his 
thigh.

        CORAX
    I-it must be the darklings!

        KAEL
    The darklings are dead and gone. Cordyll saw to that, so don't you start up 
    again with your mad ramblings. We've got enough gnawing at our minds as is.

        CORAX
      (Voice wavering)
    But this place... It's so much like that place...! The one we escaped from, 
    don't you see...?

There is a long pause while THE WARDENS OF LIGHT consider CORAX's words. RYEN 
glances around uneasily. Something in the room moved. CORAX screams. CORAX 
lunges at the feet of THE SHAPER.

        CORAX
    Please make it go away! Please...!

The walls ripple. They fade away and become verdant fields. Azaleas blow in the 
warm summer breeze. The sound of a steam burbles from nearby. Birds scatter from 
the tall, tall pines and cliffs rise up from behind.


EXT. BENEATH ROCKDOVE FORT - DAWN


At the change CORAX visibly relaxes.

        NYRIA
      (Taking in the change in scenery)
    It's a fine place... It's been quite some time since we've taken in this 
    view, hasn't it?

        CORDYLL
    Not since the Campaign of Glass.

Brief silence. THALRIC stirs, drawing attention.

        THALRIC
    Forgive me...

NYRIA puts her hand on his shoulder. 

        NYRIA
    This isn't your fault... We didn't know how wretched they truly were in that 
    moment. You were not wrong to show them mercy. We'll know better next time.

KHORRIN snorts. 

        NYRIA (CONT'D)
    Is there something you'd like to add, Khorrin?

       KHORRIN
    I've always said you'd pay for that heart of yours, but now we're all paying 
    for it. You should have crushed them when you had the chance. By the time I 
    wrenched that weapon from your hands it was too late.

        RYEN
    No, this was all my fault!

Everyone looks at RYEN

        RYEN (CONT'D)
    If I'd been watching our back...!

        KHORRIN
    Don't give yourself so much credit, little boy. Thalric charged in like the 
    fool he is, but he's not truly at fault either---though he should've run 
    those little creatures through. 

        KAEL
    Do be so kind as to tell us who you have in mind.

KHORRIN smirks and draws up his arm with measured purpose. He levels his finger 
at the body of THE SHAPER. The other wardens harden their expressions.

CORDYLL leaps to his feet. He grabs KHORRIN by the collar.

        CORDYLL
    You go too far!

        KHORRIN
    You know I'm right. What excuse does our once great master have for allowing 
    himself to be captured...? Is this all part of his plan? I'd like to hear it 
    from his mouth.

THE SHAPER---divinity incarnate---stirs and locks eyes with KHORRIN. CORDYLL 
lets go. THE SHAPER winces in pain as if the wounds on RYEN were his own. He 
feels everything his wardens feel. Despite the disapproval from the other 
wardens, they are curious to hear their master's response. Yes, they revere him.

        THE SHAPER
    I cannot unmake them. I tried... They have sealed my powers somehow. This is 
    something I have never encountered before.

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT appear deeply troubled by this revelation. They look around 
at ROCKDOVE FORT as if its existence proves their master wrong.

        THE SHAPER
    I can still feel their world pressing down on me. They are trying to take 
    control from me... It's so small... I don't want to be in here... They know 
    I can kill them merely by wishing it... So they've done something...

NYRIA places her hand's atop THE SHAPER'S

        NYRIA
    You're not powerless. You've made all of this, and you still have us.

THE SHAPER squeezes NYRIA'S hands.

        THE SHAPER
    Thank you, Nyria. You were my first warden. Your heart unites us all...
      (Brief pause)
    There must be another one... There must be another God in here...! Trying to 
    steal what I've made... He must be... The Defiler...! Wants to destroy me... 
    Put me back in there...

The true name of their foe hangs heavy in the air. CORDYLL and THALRIC exchange 
a meaningful glance. CORAX throws himself to the floor and wails.

        CORDYLL
    If that is what we must do... I haven't forgotten my oath as one of your 
    Wardens of Light. By my blood and the bones in my back, the Defiler will be 
    destroyed...!

        CORAX
      (In a high keening cry)
    Yes...! Destroyed!

KHORRIN snorts. The other WARDENS OF LIGHT nod in agreement.

  

* * *

The doors to the Data Bay slid open.

"Ah, Admiral Nestiri."

The vortex of air caused Mirka's overbearing emanations of [talo] to wash over me. Ordinarily I would've balked at such a thing, but after my ordeal it was a welcome reprieve. I glanced at the monitor.

"It's still doing that?"

"It never stops..." Her emanation of frustration swam amusingly amongst the sea of serenity, "Hisk...?"

"Please."

She stood and we locked palps. The spiced nectar stored in her gut flowed into mine and warmed me to the core. She withdrew. We touched each other's shoulders, then antennae, and resumed our business.

Mirka was the only one on this ship whose viraas was close to mine. She was capable: a 3rd Erudite from the Institute, but that she hadn't made it to the fourth level was likely the reason she found herself aboard a military vessel.

"Any progress?"

"Not much you couldn't tell just from looking at it." She sat down at her console and started to pull up various charts and readings, "If you want anything more you'll need to call a proper xenomorphologist."

"I've already contacted the institute. One will meet us as soon as we land on Luoma." My emanations urged her to continue anyway.

"Density's off the charts, and with that musculature you could give this thing a CULMINANT Plasma Cannon without it even spreading a flange."

She raised her teasing finger, "Here's an interesting bit through. Its skin is actually quite soft; it's softer than our exoskeletons, actually. If it were to strike with its full force it would probably injure itself as much as the thing it was attacking."

That was surprising... I sat down on the lounge and tickled the delicate fronds of a silverleaf.

"It did favor using a long metal rod instead of its own body."

I suddenly remembered its foot connecting with my thorax. I seriously doubted that it had hurt itself more than it had hurt me.

"No sense in defending yourself with that much power, I suppose..." I let out a troubled emanation and was urged to express it by Mirka's response of [lumo]. I screwed my palps.

"Are you certain it's not intelligent? In the general sense."

She paused and bent her antennae towards the monitor. I watched at the feed from the holding cell and once again began to doubt myself. We'd fastened it to a sloped chair, but our ship simply wasn't built to carry creatures of its size, and so it was half folded over.

Its head bent oddly, snapping from one position to the next, muscles tensing and relaxing with each shift. Its shoulders flexed against the bonds; the other limbs would've been joining the shifts if they could. The audio was muted for our sanity, but I could still hear those maddening howls as I watched its gaping mouth flap.

"It pointed my rifle at me." My addition of [tor] to the cocktail in the room got her attention, "I haven't told anyone else, but it put its finger through the catch, leveled the barrel at my face, and squeezed... If not for #22 I would've been killed in action."

She considered her words, "It could have been mimicking you."

"No... We only used our weapons on stun." I thought back to that first misfire from #29, "I don't know... Maybe that's all it was, but the way its face moved... It showed its teeth, and then narrowed its eyes. It knew that squeezing that trigger would kill me. If it was able to discern all that from one missed shot then it's certainly more intelligent than we're giving it credit for."

She turned her attention to the monitor again, considering the monstrous creature in a new light, "The sooner we get this into the hands of an expert the better. But no, I don't think it's even weakly sophontic. My tools are limited, but I lowered the fire suppression system a few times and it when it wasn't ignoring it altogether it was spooking at it as if it'd never seen it before."

I plucked the silverleaf and stared into its greyish white petals as the head of information continued.

"The subject is reactionary and stimulus driven. It has a rudimentary emotional capacity encompassing fear, anger, and pain. It doesn't appear to have object permanence or a theory of mind, but if what you're saying is true then it must have some level of symbolic thinking in order to make the connection. Lacking that, from its point of view, it would be unable to conceptualize the society that created the weapon, or the mind of the creature attempting to use it; it simply deduced in the moment that it could be used as a weapon to eliminate the things it was attacking."

I hummed in thought, "So what you're saying is we've locked up some kind of super predator with an evolutionary specialization in weaponry."

She spread her hands, "It is quite possible."

"When our kind escaped our predators, it was with the use of weapons. The thought that there's a species out there that could excel in them without our gifts of culture or morality is..." I considered stopping there, but the [talo] had gone to my head,

"Frankly, it is horrifying. I've no idea what rock they've pulled that thing from, but it must have evolved alongside a sophontic species. That would explain its knowledge of weaponry without the faculties to produce them themselves, and those noises... It must be mimicking the language of its prey. Perhaps to lure them, perhaps to confuse them, I don't know..."

"A predator that preys specifically upon an intelligent species? That is certainly a terrifying concept." She paused in thought, chitinous fingers clicking as they wrestled, "It probably won't help, but we've identified the remains in its nest as that of its own kind. There seem to have been four of them originally."

"So on top of everything, it's a cannibal." I sagged into the lounge and threw the silverleaf away. The once convivial atmosphere had become tainted with our combined emanations of stress.

"I have solved one mystery!" She declared suddenly, "Remember its selective gravity...? It's actually incredibly simple. It's plain magnetism."

"Magnetism...?" I buzzed in confusion, checking the beast beyond the monitor despite myself, "You mean to tell me it's made of metal?"

"In a way. There's several deposits of magnetic particles in its fat cells and magnetic field generators in the floors. The concentration increases the further from its feet so that when it stands its body is affected roughly evenly."

"That's... bizarre."

"At first I thought the equipment was malfunctioning, but there's no doubt. Judging from the marks on its skin around the affected areas, it was surgically injected rather than evolved."

"Done by the ones that shoved those things in that death trap no doubt..."

It was as stupid as it was brilliant. Without artificial gravity it wouldn't leave behind any spacial disturbances. Who would notice electromagnetic fields that deep in space? You'd just as soon assume any anomaly was a coronal ejection from the nearest star.

"Would you like to hear my theory, Mirka?" She emanated, "Someone picked these things up from an unknown high-G world and was attempting to rendezvous around Khellus II. Maybe some malfunction occurred and they did what they could to preserve the cargo, or maybe it was intentional misdirection, whatever the case, that heap of scrap was headed straight for orbit with an immaculate gravity assist and moon capture." I thought darkly about the cannibalized remains, "Apparently it had just enough food to survive the trip."

"To what end...?"

"You said it yourself. It did all this in its bare skin," I gestured to my cracked thorax, "Imagine that in an exosuit carrying a CULMINANT. It doesn't matter if it's intelligent, as long as it knows how to carry a cannon and kill, and it certainly knows how to do that. In fact, its natural stupidity might even be an asset. It seems to me that someone's found a clever way to circumvent the Sovereignty's careful watch on gene modding and artiforms. They found an alien environment that did all the work for them."

"You think someone's raising an army...? It could just as easily be an entry into an outlaw's menagerie."

I stood, "It is my duty to envisage such things. Unlike your institute, when my predictions are proven wrong, I rejoice."

She flicked her antennae at that, "I'm afraid that you might be personally invested in this, Nestiri."

I ignored her concerns; she wasn't the admiral; she was an Erudite, "The Turbs have been quiet recently; perhaps this is their doing. The Nasirran Furocule are suspect as well..."

My attention wandered to the monitor. The creature was hunched in a muttering daze, and then its eye snapped to the camera. The predatory saccade sent a flash of panic through me. Mirka noticed, but I rushed out before she could respond.

Chapter Text

"Zone is clear." I spoke into my shoulder, "You're free to drop."

There was a tension in the air. The bluish atmosphere of Luoma was welcoming, but I wish I'd returned home on better circumstances. A small crowd had gathered around the Fyrix cruiser as the hydraulics of the cargo hatch hissed. It hinged open with a suspenseful slowness before finally touching the tarmac of the research facility.

My flanges rattled restlessly. All eyes were focused on the top of the ramp and every olefactor was keen on the unique stench drifting down from the guts of my ship like a crashing flood. It appeared from the gloom. Its long hair obscured its grotesque features, but there was no hiding its eyes as they stared intently at nothing in particular.

Four Fyrix flanked it, carrying chains that connected to the collar clasped around its neck. The device was capable of delivering lethal shocks if necessary, and its arms were pinned to its sides by the suspension gel. Those who were seeing the creature for the first time emanated the thick scent of [grund].

The thing was standing, towering over my whifts like it had three phases ago. It make me uneasy leaving its legs free, but Luoma's gravity made moving such an enormous creature difficult. We couldn't just selectively disable it like we could in the ship. It seemed sedate now, however. It had been acting this way since we'd landed. Still, I could see its mouth move. It was sibilant and soft, but quiet I was glad to be free from its constant babbling.

The two whifts in front pulled on their chains and the creature walked on its too-long legs onto the ramp, its head hung low. The fight seemed to have finally drained from it. I felt the breeze from a hoverskimmer as it blew my antennae into the scent. It didn't matter. I focused on the creature, watching it approach step by lumbering step. I'd almost forgotten how enormous it was.

There were a handful of creatures on Luoma who could boast similar sizes, but they weren't bipedal, and they certainly weren't predators. The Fyrix riding the skimmer was approaching me from behind. I wanted to focus on the creature, but she drew closer. Her appearance was unbecoming, channels of her carapace carved into what she must've thought was decorative curlicues.

There was hardly a trace of viraas from her body. Who was this? Manumit? Threll? On a restricted landing site? I screwed my palps and spun to face her, emanating outrage as I did. She stopped.

"Are you Admiral Nestiri?"

She'd asked with such candor that I was poleaxed for a moment, "Yes, I am Admiral Nestiri, and you're going into cust---"

"Great!" She declared, "I'm Doctor Zyrrs, the xenobiologist, morphologist, whatever you want to call me." She buzzed cheerfully, completely oblivious to the hostility surrounding me.

I was poleaxed for a second time, "Right... I did not realise..."

I looked her up and down, clearing my emanations of outrage to a heady mix of apologies while still asserting the correctness of my earlier outrage. I attempted to feel out her social standing, then flicked my antennae in irritation when I received nothing.

"Oh..." She hummed ruefully, "Sorry, it's been a while since I've been back on Luoma." Her emanation of [Fen] was so overbearing and clumsy that it made my antennae stand on end. I emanated [vund] so thick the nearby thyss backed away, but she hardly even reacted. It only enraged me further, "You are who they send...?! You expect me to believe you are an erudite...?! Your communication is worse than an infant!"

"Did they not tell you?" The way she tilted her head was highly exaggerated and it took me a moment to realize that she was unconsciously employing an alien body language.

"I've got Khyllar's Disease." Third time, "...I can see why you've chosen to live off planet. If I had that, I'd walk head first into the city cremator." Doctor Zyrrs did her best to emanate amusement at my undeniably rude comment. Despite living off planet and possessing little to no viraas as a result, her social standing was somewhere around a 4th Eurdite; it was just that it was so very hard to take her seriously when she had the social grace of a borebabber. Unable to sense emanations...? It made her no better than the brusque beasts that passed for fellow intelligents in the Sovereignty.

"Is that the creature?" She pointed.

Somehow, I'd managed to forget it was even there, "Of course that's the creature you mushbrained mutant! What else could it be...? You're scent blind, not sight blind, aren't you!? I'm sorry, I'm having a difficult time understanding how to speak with you."

"I'm used to it." She declared sharply, "It's looking rather sickly... Has it always looked like that?"

"No, it's been doing that since we lan---"

I was cut off by the beast suddenly puffing out its cheeks and bulging its eyes. It lurched forwards and ejected a noxious torrent of fluid from its mouth. It flew through the air and coated the whift in front of him.

"Get it off of you!" I shouted at the whift as he began to panic, swatting at his uniform and running in circles.

The shock collar clicked and the creature let out a stentorian wail before collapsing to its knees and hitting the ground. Everyone was rushing to help #12 as he desperately tried to peel his suit off. I should've covered its mouth...!

"Calm down, calm down!" Zyrrs cried out, "It's only the contents of its stomach! It's probably harmless!" Despite her words, #12 continued to strip down to his exoskeleton while others wiped him down with whatever they had on hand. Zyrrs made an annoyed noise and turned to me.

"It's not monophagous like us. It likely eats a wide variety of things. For species like that, there's a chance that what they've eaten could harm them, so they've got an involuntary response to purge the stomach. It's probably feeling sick after experiencing true gravity again."

I was emanating my emotional responses before I remembered they were wasted on her. I made a noise.

"I see..."

"Hey, gather a sample of that, would you!" She shouted before turning back to me, "That looked like it was mostly stomach acid. Have you been feeding it?"

"It's a carnivore." I responded, "We don't exactly keep raw flesh sitting around in case of a situation like this." I twisted my palps to force down my disgust, "I did put in an order for the... synthetic stuff from the Myrmids..."

"I don't think it's a carnivore."

I looked at her, "There were the remains of three other howlers in there with it. Don't try to tell me they died of natural causes; further examination showed that the bones had been sawn apart."

"Oh, I'm aware of that. I'm just saying I don't think it's a carnivore. I caught a glimpse of its teeth while it was vomiting. They were fairly flat, looked like they were more suited to crushing and grinding rather than tearing. It's probably an omnivore." She then paused,

"...Howlers?"

"What my whifts had taken to calling them."

Zyrrs hummed in response, a strange habit she'd probably picked up off world to express that the information had been received to the conversation partner without the use of emanations.

Things were calming down and some were even trying their best to collect some of the bile after Zyrrs' request. They looked none too pleased about it, especially after having to go so near the beast. The whift who had been coated with the howler's stomach acid was fine and looked embarrassed more than anything,

"Head to medical just to make sure it's not venomous!" I ordered, then gestured to one of my whifts still atop the ramp, "You, take his place!"

The creature was on the ground, looking nothing like the ferocious creature that had attacked us only two cycles ago. They began tugging the chains, urging it to its feet, and when that didn't work, the collar administered some minor electric shocks. Finally, it started to stand upright.

"Poor thing..." Zyrrs muttered.

"Poor thing...?" I rounded on her, "That, 'poor thing' nearly killed me and five of my whifts. That thing is a savage, cannibalistic predator. That thing is not a 'poor' thing."

"It's a matter of perspective, Admiral."

I stared at her and clasped my hands behind my back, "You've been off Luoma for far too long, Zyrrs. You're sounding like the Myrmids. Plucking a thread from the design to sustain your own is a cancerous and graceless trait."

"You're a member of the Fyrix fleet, Admiral. You've killed other intelligents before! You wouldn't object to neutralizing a hookwhip or a ginru that had crawled out of the reservation zone either, so is it really so different?"

"Are you truly a Fyrix...?" It was disturbing seeing what living without olfactors could mold my own kind into, "Self-defense is not the same as wanton slaughter. It wouldn't be necessary to shoot a ginru if they wouldn't attack us first. This is obvious."

"Yes, yes, I'm simply saying look at things from its point of view! It only wants to survive, and if it needs to eat to do that, it would think of that as a form of self-defense as well!"

"...Maybe you were the right choice to examine it. You've certainly got a predator's mindset." I watched the creature as it loped towards the waiting cargo entrance of the research facility, "In respect to your condition, I'll tell you this plainly. I don't like you, Zyrrs, and if you compare me to that thing again I'll drag you to an aratrost."

"I'm a citizen of Tirotiro, Admiral. That would be a bit of an incident."

My flanges fluttered, "I could send you back there if that's what you'd prefer."

"No, no, no...!" She raised her palms, again mimicking body language from another species, "I'd lose my mind if I lost this opportunity! It's such a fascinating specimen! I'm sorry, I'm just not very good at speaking with other Fyrix. If you'll let me, I'd love to show you what I'm good at instead."

I flicked my antennae and grabbed her by the arm. Thankfully she knew enough of her customs to grip mine in return. We tapped antennae. I released her from the gesture and returned my fingers to their place behind my back.

"See that you do."

* * *

"For you, my saratan."

"Thank you..." I picked up the data rod, "But could you call me Doctor Zyrrs?"

He or she stared at me for a few moments and then walked away. I couldn't even tell. I tapped my thigh, wondering what one sided communication had just passed between us. Two more were pecking idly at terminals in the back. That Admiral had shackled me with three whifts despite my wishes. Obviously he wanted to keep an eye on me.

They'd been his, and even though they were bound to serve me in full accordance to the Fyrixian Precepts, there was no doubt to whom they'd return when my work was finished---or as soon as he dismissed me. I looked around at the dodgy equipment and sat down in the worn, coulfiber chair. There were only two terminals, and no special equipment of any kind. The famously isolationist Fyrix weren't exactly known for their interest in other creatures, and the state of this equipment was a testament to that.

The Howler was being loaded into the room below me, the laboratory looking down from a balcony of one-way glass. The chamber was originally used to hold the famously large pets of the Mykar diplomats during their short-lived alliance with the Fyrix. It had ended as most do---with the Fyrix growing tired of their 'graceless manner' and reneging, but at least it had left me with an actual facility. It would've been so much easier if they'd just let me bring my own assistants, but it was clear they wanted to keep this under wraps. After hearing the whole situation, I could understand why. The only reason I'd made the cut was that despite my disabilities, I was still Fyrix. I slid the data rod into the machine and heard it latch. Holograms spewed from the terminal, spinning genomes and molecules flickered to life in the dim space. One eye skimmed while the other was fixed on the Howler below. I'd put my desk right next to the glass so I'd always have a view. I could hardly contain myself. All the others were terrified of it. I mean, I understood the fear. It was the largest (land-based) predator ever recorded as well as the largest biped period. Even I could feel something screaming out from the hidden recesses of my genetic programming, screaming at me to get away from just the sight of it. It was exhilarating. I hadn't felt this way since I went out on my first field study.

The others were looking at me strangely. I must've been emanating something odd. I searched through my viscera for the glands which could synthesize nearly a hundred aromatic chemicals. I could feel them in there, but little more. They were distant and atrophied from under-use, but I think I managed to find the odd one out. Second one down from the ancillary flange...

The whifts leery gazes wandered away, but they still seemed restless. It was so, so difficult to tell... Why couldn't the Mykar have discovered this thing...? I let out a long breath which rattled my exoskeleton. They'd managed to corral the creature into the large room and were now struggling with how to remove the restraints and not get attacked in the process. It stood there listlessly as one by one the leading ropes were detached from its collar. It was only when they were all out the door that they commanded the suspension gel to release. It fell to the floor and the creature stretched into its newfound freedom. The handlers were huddled behind the door, prepared to slam it shut at a moments notice, but instead the creature chose to simply sit down onto the metal chair they'd prepared for it. It seemed to enjoy sitting while in the Fyrix ship, so it seemed best to bolt a chair to the floor of its cell. The suspension gel inched along the floor and through the crack in the door before finally they slammed it shut.

The howler rubbed at itself and seemed to search the room. Its small, recessed eyes roamed the sterile walls as its neck craned hither and thither. I heard a crash. One of the whifts had been watching and leapt as its gaze raked across the one-way glass. That was the motion that terrified them the most; the way its eyes snapped and its head turned.

I wondered what life must look like through its eyes. Creatures like us evolved to see as much as possible in order to spot danger, but things like the howler had no need. They didn't need to see behind them to know when to run; they were the things that the others ran from.

It didn't take long for it to start its signature babbling. It was absolutely fascinating...! I'm not sure I bought into the admiral's theory that it was meant to confuse intelligents, but I wasn't ready to rule out anything at this point. This creature might just shatter several long held preconceptions in the field of xenobiology. The philosophical implications along of a creature that could speak but not---!

My terminal pinged. I wrangled with the Fyrix's horrible operating system and pulled up the message. Speaking of Admiral Nestiri...

`How you completed the physical diagnostic?'

I hammered into the terminal, `This is a living thing and not a computer, you know!' before swiftly deleting it.

They just released it into the enclosure. I haven't even had the chance yet! I caught my head and shook it, ignoring the attention the gesture earned from the whifts.

`I am in the middle of that as we speak. I will inform you when it is finished.' There... Formal, but firm! The Fyrix were much easier to deal with through text, at least when they weren't using an olfactory synthesizer. I realized one of the whifts was standing in the middle of the room holding a container. I ignored them and studied the helical patterns of its genetic code, but they didn't move.

"You!" I pointed, "What are you doing?"

"What should I do with these samples, my saratan?" The male or female held out the container. I didn't even know what to call the whifts. I wanted to give them names, but that was a serious faux pas.

"What are they...?"

"Skeletal remains."

"Oh!" My antennae shot up, "Bring them here!"

I rummaged through the skulls and bones and pulled out an enormous sample. It took both arms to heft. The single bone was easily over half my total height. The surface was rough and solid. It was probably its leg bone. The thing felt electric beneath my fingertips and I could hardly contain my excitement. The rusty color, the weight...!

I'd recognize hydroxyapatite anywhere. It was no wonder that the howlers used such a sturdy lattice for their skeleton, but even so, for it to be this big... The forces that this bone must need to endure on a daily basis must be immense. Its home world must be two, maybe even three times that of Luoma.

I picked up a smaller, but by no means small bone, "Take this and measure the force until it snaps, then run a spectral analysis on the remains."

The whift took it and vanished. It galled me to break even one of these samples, but Nestiri would demand immediate results. This begged the question... where were all the other bones...? I suppose it must've eaten them. I didn't think it had the teeth necessary, but that Mirka woman /had/ mentioned that the howler displayed rudimentary tool use. Maybe it ground up all but the largest ones?

I looked down at the creature and sighed, "What a mystery you are..."

* * *

# Welcome, DOCTOR_ZYRRS Galactic Standard Time is 12.116---a well-measured moment in the grand design! You are connecting from HERON_RESEARCH_CENTER

# How does DOCTOR_ZYRRS wish to nourish our garden?

>>CREATE_FILE "HOWLER_NOTES"

> This "Howler" is an extraordinary specimen! When the Fyrix Fleet contacted me looking for a xenobiologist, I wasn't sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this! And to think they found it floating in space.

It's been difficult to get any work done. I've just been staring at it. The way its bones move and its muscles roll underneath its tight skin is a wonder to behold. I'd love to see it in its natural habitat, but we don't even know where that is yet! Its biomechanics are simply fascinating.

It's been some phases since it was released and it hasn't moved much since then, but after a while it raised its arms above its head and stretched. The cracking and the popping sounds it made...! I can only imagine the size of those joints. It's just the kind of idle pandiculation I'd expect from a predator. It's keeping itself limber and ready to strike. It's wonderful!

Maybe I shouldn't be getting so worked up over this creature, but these are my personal notes, so... Ha-ha-ha!

I will summarize my observations up to this point. The creature possesses a sturdy frame vastly exceeding our own proportions. It is twice as tall as the average Fyrix and twice as wide. Its bones are encased in a network of contractile tissues which grant it stability and uncharacteristically fluid motion for its mass.

Its elongated limbs propel itself forward with surprising efficiency, suggesting an evolutionary origin of vast and varied terrain. Notably, its bipedal gait frees its forelimbs for confrontation. The forward appendages possess five prehensile digits each and suggest a high degree of manual dexterity. They appear to be instruments of both formidable utility and violence.

The cranial region is proportionally large and contains a variety of sensory organs. It is unclear whether this is the whole range of its senses, but the holes on either side of its head are for sound, whereas the holes in the middle are for olfactory purposes. The bilateral alignment of its eyes suggests that it is suited to pursuit of prey. The whifts also find it unnerving.

Its thoracic cavity houses an oscillating organ that drives air in from its mouth and into its chest. This rapid and consistent circulatory cadence seems to fuel its formidable stamina---which I've been assured exists after an apparent alternation during its initial capture.

Based on initial observation I've gone ahead and filled out the Sovereignties Species Specifications Sheet. For now I'm giving it the physical classifications MOR, MACR, PRED, SKLT, DIM:8, DNS:7, LOC:B, STA:8, PWR:8, RES:5. Given its size and strength these seem appropriate.

> It's looking a little bit better! It is growing accustomed to our gravity, but mostly it just seemed to be thirsty. I gave it some water and it drank the whole thing without issue. Another point for the universal solvent! I was entranced by
watching its throat as it gulped it all down.

> The results of the bone tests exceeded my expectations. It maxed out the machine and we had to use an industrial press intended for metals. I knew the strength of the material already, but it's still impressive seeing it in action. It's must be even tougher with the support of its musculature. I'm increasing it to RES:6.

I analyzed the splinters and it's mostly calcium and phosphorus, but there's other trace elements that are of interest. I've sent the results to the admiral. Seeing what elements it evolved to utilize might help narrow down the planets it could have originated from. The lack of higher order elements from supernovae rules out entire galaxies.

> After examining the contents of its vomit I was surprised to find no trace of meat. There were various microorganisms that I've set aside for study at a later date, but as for actual sustenance the only thing I've discovered in its stomach were large amounts of the same unicellular organism.

> Luoma is awful! Right now the howler is the only good thing about this place! Speaking to the thyss in charge of the recovered vessel was painful, but I've managed to confirm that the source of the unicellular organism in its stomach is the green sludge mentioned in the report. They should send me a sample shortly.

> I've been listening to the howler closely. The whifts have confirmed beyond any shadow of a doubt that its babble does not belong to any known language. The frequency of its utterances are near the bottom of the Fyrix register, but after adjusting it to my range, it's remarkably nuanced. It's difficult to perceive it as anything other than a language, but whenever I'm caught in that line of thinking I'm forced to recall that vacant expression it has.

Language is used to convey information, so what in the world could it possibly intend to convey with this constant yawping...? And to no one but itself...? It must serve some other purpose. If only it hadn't eaten the other three howlers!

Still, I've identified seven distinct pitches that it vacillates between. The significance of this observation...? I've got no idea, but they are distinct. It's possible there's an eighth, or even a ninth, but they're rare and I'm not confident enough that they're not modulations of the ones already observed.

> The synthetic meat arrived from Myrmos. Efforts to cultivate that bloody green sludge were successful as well. It seemed an excellent opportunity to test its feeding habits, and so I presented the subject with both the sludge as well as the synthetic meat.

The whifts were watching with interest. It went to the sludge first and smelled it. It was just like I'd predicted...! Feeling triumphant, I turned to them just in time to see them recoil in horror as it devoured the flesh.

Well...

I never said that it was herbivorous!

> I'm hesitant, but I've decided to fill out its cognitive specifications.

AWA:9 (I was going to mark its awareness as 6, but its sudden and violent interest in the synthetic flesh changed my mind. Despite its vacant appearance, it is highly aware)

SEN:Y (It's obviously sentient)

SYM:5 (Its capacity for symbolic thought is questionable. According to the report it showed signs of multi-stage thinking, but more testing is needed)

PRS:5 (Further tests are necessary, but based on the report I'm giving it a 5 for problem solving as well)

ANT:2 (Foresight and anticipatory thinking is minimal)

COG:9 (Despite its behaviour, scans show its brain possesses a dense neural framework with substantial processing capability. Given the size of its muscles, most of these are likely dedicated to motor control)

SOC:2 (Its violent behavior and cannibalistic nature suggests that it is incapable of cooperative group dynamics)

TOM:0 (It shows no theory of mind, or any awareness of the Fyrix as a concept. This combined with its SYM score of 5 is the most perplexing aspect.)

EMP:0 (Does not appear capable of emotional synchronization or empathy)

LNG:? (I simply have no idea. By all accounts it's speaking a language, but it doesn't actually use it as a language...? It's baffling)

MEM:3 (After placing its water in the same spot, it was moved, and it returned to the original spot. I've tried doing an object familiarity test, but it simply ignored them. I'm marking memory as 3 for now, but it's probably higher)

SOPHONT:N

All of this together is unlike anything I've ever classified. The capacity for symbolic thought and language without a theory of mind is bizarre. This organism could challenge several lasting assumptions about the evolution of intelligence.

Could it be that it once belonged to an intelligent species that then suffered some sort of devolution...? Perhaps there was some sort of planet-wide calamity that after many generations caused its higher functions to become vestigial...? I pray that the admiral succeeds in finding its home world. I've never been so curious in all my life!

> I managed to make it eat the sludge. It definitely prefers the flesh. My assistants, whifts, whatever... They're on edge. Watching a predator feed on flesh must've been too much for them, which is why they should've let me work alone! They don't even listen to me half the time. Isn't that what whifts are supposed to do?! Regardless... I'm marking it down as OMNI.

> The specimen is looking much healthier. I'll ramp up the tests and hopefully get that admiral off my back.

> I slowly reduced the temperature in the room. Its skin began to horripilate almost immediately. After more time it clutched itself and started to shake. All expected responses, but its tolerance to the cold appears quite low. When it curled into a ball and shook convulsively I chose to terminate the test.

It fared much better when I increased the temperature. It showed little response even as it went into the extremes of our tolerance. Water started to pour out of its skin and before long there was a pool beneath its feet. Evaporation is the most common mechanism for thermoregulation, but I've never seen quite so much. I terminated the test when it stopped muttering in order to breathe.

I'm giving it THR+7.

> I played a loud noise over the speakers. It jolted, but quickly lost interest. Its reaction speed is nothing compared to the sivts on Armakar, but suitable for a hunter and still quite impressive for its size! I played the noise again but it covered its ears and kept on muttering. RCT:6.

> It is mostly indolent, but at times will explode into sudden and sporadic activity. It examines the walls frantically before dropping to the ground. Once flat, it then starts to lever itself off the ground with its arms as if it's trying to stand up, only to then drop back down to the ground. It repeats this motion exactly two hundred times, every time.

The ferocity with which it accomplishes this task is remarkable. It grunts and snarls with each repetition. It keeps going until its skin turns from pale to red and its slick with sweat. The way its jaw hangs open to gulp down great volumes of air is wonderful to watch. It's a wonder the planet it hails from has enough oxygen to satisfy its kind.

One of the whifts called it revolting, to which I must disagree! Though, for all its torpor, these bouts of violence are a reminder of its wild nature. I must wonder as to the purpose. Is it posturing of some kind...?

> I recorded some of its babbling and played it back to it. It paused, searched around the empty room, and then resumed. Further attempts at this stimulus were subsequently ignored. Perhaps it thought there was another of its kind...?

> I've neglected to mention its sexual organs. It is externally positioned and vulnerable. Affixed between the legs, it is cylindrical in shape and surrounded with pliant tissue, clearly phallic in nature. Based on what I've seen, it appears to be sexually dimorphous, but I would need other specimens to confirm. Still, I'm giving it the DIMO classification and marking him down as male.
When it sleeps its phallus becomes engorged, growing to more than twice its original size. This occurs multiple times throughout its sleep, but I'm unsure why. One of the whifts came up to me and said, "Staring at its penis again?"

Yeah! It's an important part of biology! It's the most important part actually! Of course I'm going to need to stare at it! So what?! I don't know what to do about these whifts. I hate the Fyrix!

> More classifications... I'm finally getting around to filling out the rest of the standards. I'd get the whifts to do it, but they wouldn't be able to make sense of it. It doesn't matter that VSIL only exists in ten species of slime on Taq'leuon, I've got to specify 'no' to vascular luminescence for EVERYTHING.

VIBC... Well he's certainly using vibrations in the air when he babbles, but is he actually communicating with them...? I'm just going to say 'yes'.

I know it's to limit the number of characters that need to be sent over the foldlines, but really... When was the last time someone needed to know whether something had a thermic metabolism so bad that they'd burn an entire coil of antimatter just to ask via subspace?

The Sovereignties sure love their abbreviations...

> I'm growing frustrated. He's ignoring all the cognitive tests. I've tried to use his favorite flesh as a reward for completing them, but he shows no interest no matter the orientation. If not for the report I would drop its cognitive
classifications several points, but if that score is accurate then the only possibility is that he's willfully ignoring them.

I'll learn nothing if it isn't in its natural habitat. We need to put him into a proper enclosure already!

> It's been five days. The more I watch him the more confused I become. I've classified several new species, but nothing like this. It's not only his large stature, strength, or predatory inclinations... There's this aspect to him that I just can't place.

It's that his odd behaviours simply don't seem to have any purpose. Even the strangest adaptations have their origins, but this is something else. I've been wracking my brains around it, tossing out theory after theory to explain his babbling indolence, but I just can't imagine an environment that would create something like this. There's just too many irregularities that clash with all of my experiences as a xenobiologist.

The circumstances of his discovery shouldn't be ignored. It's possible he's been genetically modified, or otherwise tampered with during its life. I'm beginning to think that the admiral might be correct and that these creatures are for a purpose. It would be very sad if it were true, because it is a truly beautiful creature.

I would like to rule this out as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

    
ENTER SCENE:
EXT. DARKMOOR FOREST - TWILIGHT

Frost is in the air. The ground is frozen. CORDYLL approaches from the hazy 
distance. His arms are tight around him. He shakes and clutches at the animal 
furs over his shoulders. The cold is unbearable and the ground cracks with each 
step. The desolation catches the sound and echoes it far.

CORDYLL passes by the frozen bodies of darklings spiked to trees. He eyes them 
warily, wondering if some fool had removed a spike and allowed one of them to 
regenerate. He couldn't take one in his current state if it were lying in wait.  
The DEFILER'S influence is strong and the cold is bone splintering.

He stumbles and falls to one knee. On that knee he looks ahead and then spies 
sanctuary in the distance. The weathered stones and prominent spire are cast 
against the dying sun. He struggles on.

INT. TEMPLE OF THE VILES - DILAPIDATED NAVE - NIGHT

The heavy door groans open. There is a fire at the end of the antechamber.  
CORDYLL marches towards it. A YOUNG KNIGHT is standing in the aisle. CORDYLL 
pushes him out of the way. He strikes a bench and stumbles. His face twists to 
shock and indignation. The YOUNG KNIGHT draws his blade with a tuneful hiss.

        CORDYLL
    Put it away! Put it away! Are you so young and stupid that you would throw 
    away your life for pride?

The YOUNG KNIGHT hesitates. CORDYLL collapses by the fire and reaches into it.  
He flexes his fingers, but feels no heat. He considers a prayer to THE SHAPER, 
but knows even his master is helpless against these forces.

        YOUNG KNIGHT
      (Raising his blade)
    The flame does not burn you.

        CORDYLL
    Did you not hear me? Put it away!
      (Brief pause)
    It is a curse... some force from beyond this world. I am no phantom, so 
    stand down young one, or you'll find my steel bites worse than the cold.

The YOUNG KNIGHT slowly sheathes his blade. He keeps a wary distance from the 
older knight. He then sits down on a disused pew and watches.

        YOUNG KNIGHT
    Who are you?

        CORDYLL
    Cordyll Yhendoren.

        YOUNG KNIGHT
      (Shaking his head)
    Nothing but bandits and mercenaries travel these roads. The gods will smite 
    you for taking the name of a great hero if you're not careful.

        CORDYLL
      (Laughing)
    I will take my chances.

The fire finally starts to warm him up. The unnatural cold slowly retreats from 
his bones as he stares into its crackling depth. He throws on another log and 
rubs his hands. 

        CORDYLL
    So which one are you?

        YOUNG KNIGHT
    Excuse me?

        CORDYLL (CONT'D)
    Bandit or mercenary.

The YOUNG KNIGHT scowls. He walks across the room, leans against a lichen 
covered pillar, then folds his arms.

        YOUNG KNIGHT
    I'm a knight. Headed to Listany to join in the campaigns.

        CORDYLL
    A country that can't even bury its darklings can still find the time for 
    their wars... I'd turn back if I were you. This is not the time for war.

CORDYLL rubs his shoulders and finally quells the tremors. The YOUNG KNIGHT 
stares at him, measuring him up and down. His frown shows the result of the 
scales in his head. Suddenly there's a knocking noise.

        (O.S) FEMININE VOICE
    Is there anybody in there...? Please open the door...

The YOUNG KNIGHT unfolds his arms. He glances from CORDYLL to the door. CORDYLL 
continues to stare into the stone hearth.

        (O.S) FEMININE VOICE
    Please... It's too heavy for me...

The YOUNG KNIGHT walks to do the door.

        CORDYLL
    Don't.

The YOUNG KNIGHT pauses, looks at CORDYLL, and then continues on his way toward 
the large double doors of the temple.

        CORDYLL
    The rituals have been interrupted. There's outsiders around. There's things 
    that shouldn't be here. So do not let them in.

        YOUNG KNIGHT
    What is this nonsense? Why should I trust---

        (O.S) FEMININE VOICE
    Please...! I can hear someone inside...! It's so cold...

CORDYLL stands and rests his hand on the pommel of his brutally thick blade. He 
approaches the YOUNG KNIGHT slowly and stares down at him.

        CORDYLL
    Bandits and mercenaries, right...?
      (Unsheathes his blade and points it at the door.)
    What does that make her?

The YOUNG KNIGHT swallows and nods. The door shakes with the loud pounding. The 
woman wails and the pounding gets louder. The YOUNG KNIGHT steps backwards as 
the pounding frees dust from the stones. A high pitched clicking noise comes 
from nowhere and fills the air.

        YOUNG KNIGHT
    What is that...?

        CORDYLL
    It is their language.

The pounding stops and CORDYLL sits on one of the pews. He enjoys the heat 
soaking into him as a congealing silence settles around them. Then the heat 
grows. He looks at the hearth. It grows and grows. He wipes his brow and 
breathes. The YOUNG KNIGHT loosens his armor. Smoke appears. CORDYLL stands.

        CORDYLL
    They're trying to burn us out!

The temple fills with smoke. Flame licks through the old boards. The YOUNG 
KNIGHT panics. He coughs and runs for the double doors,

        YOUNG KNIGHT
    We've got to get out of here!

        CORDYLL
    Don't!

The YOUNG KNIGHT throws open the door and is yanked into the darkness. He 
screams. CORDYLL shuts his eyes as he hears a sickening crunch. CORDYLL rushes 
to close the doors. The fire grows. He covers his mouth and coughs.

        CORDYLL
    Damn you, Thalric! If only you were here!

The heat is sweltering. Cordyll falls to the floor and grits his teeth. He 
wonders whether he would prefer to burn to death or be torn apart by the 
DEFILER'S creatures. Flames are roaring all around. Burning beams crash to the 
ground and the air saturated with smoke.

The great doors collapse inwards. The WITCH floats inside. She is wreathed in 
flame like a wicker man. Her grotesque limbs of chitin reach out for CORDYLL.  
The WITCH drops the freshly bloodied meat in front of him. She titters as 
CORDYLL gasps for air.

        (V.O) THE SHAPER
    Cordyll... You are strong...

He pounds the ground and swings through the WITCH. The WITCH vanishes in smoke 
and he barrels towards the doors. The door seems to stretch away from him. The 
heat... It follows him. He runs. Cordyll runs... The heat... They don't get any 
closer.

It's...

It's hot.

Cordyll

He runs. 
        
He

The doors

Please

It... It... The doors, he passes the doors. The heat starts to fade away as the 
temple of the viles burns down behind him. CORDYLL gasps for air and glares into 
the darkness. The burning temple projects a ring of orange light.

EXT. BLACKMOOR FOREST - NIGHT

CORDYLL readies his weapon.

        CORDYLL
    Come on then! Greater fiends than you have already fallen where you stand! 
    Come on...!

Blackish chitin emerges from the absolute night. The chitokyn lunges at him. He 
swings, cleaves it in two. More come. CORDYLL spins, He kills them. He kills 
them. He kills them. He kills them.

He kills them. More come. They swarm. They chitter. Their bodies clatter 
together. Their nightmare limbs reach out like a tide from the dark. Black eyes 
stare lifeless. He flows from form to form. He slices them down. The dead 
chitokyns pile up at his feet, but there's more. 

        CORDYLL
    Is that the best you've got?! Is that the strength of your Defiler?!

He kills them. Two leap onto his back. They bite his neck. He rips one off and 
stomps on its head. He flings the other at the mad horde. His brutal square 
blade is soaked in their cursed blood. CORDYLL cries out and forces his way 
through the ring of killing.

CORDYLL runs into the night. They grab for his heels. He kicks them away and 
slashes as they surge. He's faster. He gets away. He runs, and runs. The trees 
streak by, but the sound of their chittering has died into the night. CORDYLL 
stops to catch his breath. 

        CORDYLL (...?)
    Put it away! Put it away! Are you so young and stupid that you would throw 
    away your life for pride?

Freezes, looking all throughout the black woods. The trees choke out what little 
light there is from the stars. The blackness stares back with thousandfold eyes.

        CORDYLL (...?)
    Bandit or mercenary.

        CORDYLL
      (Growling)
    Demon...! I'll cut you down like the others!

        NYRIA (...?)
    Be careful, Ryen. Cordyll can handle himself, but it's you I'm worried 
    about. Are you certain you don't wish to go with Kael?

        CORDYLL
    I'll kill you...!

        THALRIC (...?)
    Just a quick excursion. We'll figure out---

CORDYLL'S grip tightens.

        CORDYLL (CONT'D)
    You profane my brother's voice...! I'll rip your tongue from your fucking 
    throat, demon! I'll make you choke on your own blood!

* * *

I tapped my teasing finger on the side of the console. The 'tonk-tonk-tonk' sound it made was a fine distraction. It made sense. It was cause and effect. When I tap the console, it makes a sound. It was nice to understand something. It was the first thing that felt like it made sense in days.

"Stop that!"

I turned slightly to regard the whift. I would've kept going, but they'd already startled me out of the rhythm and I didn't have the spite to start up again.

"Have you finished that list of candidate systems for the admiral?"

"No." The whift responded, "There are too many systems. It is impossible."

"I gave you the reference data..." I wiped my eye wearily, "All you need to do is cross reference the concentrations in its bones with the elemental surveys for all the nearby systems..."

The whift did not move, didn't even flick an antennae. It was like trying to read a brick wall.

"Please... This is for the admiral."

"Admiral Nestiri is not my saratan."

Well, I was officially out of ideas. I feel like I of all people should've seen this coming, but here we were.

"In that case, I need a fresh tissue sample from the howler. You could gather that for me if you'd prefer."

"Why."

"...Because I need it?"

"We already have its blood."

"This is different. I need older tissues, preferably cells with slow turnovers such as cardiac or cerebral cells. Ideally we'd use post-mitotic cells, but it's such a new species I wouldn't know where to find them. I want to see if there's a discrepancy between the older and newer cells to rule out any modification."

The whift stared at me. My attention drifted to the howler. He was asleep right now, and the way that he was curled up on the floor was almost adorable.

"How do you expect me to get this sample."

"Oh, we've got a special tool for that. It's called a stratalyzer. It's this really thin needle that---"

The whift waved its arms awkwardly, but angrily, "HOW do you expect ME to get this sample?"

"...You'll insert it into the bone in its leg and twist the handle. I can't be sure, but if it's like other similarly structured organisms, the skeletal muscles will be---"

The whift turned and stomped away.

"Hey!" I called out, "I'm still your saratan, so get back here!"

He or she stopped, but for once I had no problem reading their inner resentment. They paused, and once again spoke, "How do you EXPECT me to get this sample."

I paused thoughtfully, "...You'll need to subdue it first."

"I will not."

"Well, why not?" I threw up my arms, "You got it in there in the first place, didn't you? Just use that white ooze again!"

"It. Would. Avoid. It." Every word was measured as if they were explaining it to a child, "The suspension gel would run out of internal power before the creature did. It is not used for capture. It is used for restraining."

I grumbled. I wish I knew enough about his biology to use sedatives, but there's no way to ensure that it wouldn't just metabolize into some deadly toxin and kill him. I flicked my antennae.

"Well it's a bit violent, but could you use the collar and sticks again?"

"I will not." The whift looked down through the glass, "I will do it if you allow me to kill it first."

"Absolutely not!" I shouted, "This is important! I'm telling you, as your saratan, that you need to perform this biopsy!"

The whift twisted their palps and lurched. I jumped to avoid the black tarry substance that landed between my legs. I stared at them in disbelief as they fluttered their flanges and stalked away. The other whifts were watching.

There were many things lost on me, but I knew full well what that meant. I had to hawk that stuff into the sink sometimes. I just stood there staring at the heap of nanthe as it oozed into the floor. It was supposed to smell, but I couldn't even sense that much. I found it grimly humorous. I couldn't even take their complete denial of my person the way that they wanted me to.

"I'll do it myself then, if you're too much of a coward!"

I wish I knew the emanations to accuse cowardice, but even attempting would've made me seem even dumber than I already did.

"You." I pointed at another whift, "Come with me." She stared at me and made no effort to move, "Don't worry you won't need to do anything /dangerous/ I just need another set of hands."

She stood up slowly. Out of the three, she was the most likely to actually listen to my instructions. I rummaged through my things and found my stratalyzer in no time.

"Let's go."

I felt a growing sense of tension as we descended the stairs. It felt like quite a height, but I had to remind myself that it was only a little taller then my specimen. The whift followed me quietly. On the ground floor it was a quick walk to the massive door at the end of the sterile hall.

"I just want you to watch the door and close it if I've got to run." I swiped my card over the reader and waved my access pattern through the holoscreener.

"You're going in there?"

I imagine it would've sounded more aghast if I possessed olfactors, "It's asleep right now, and the procedure isn't that invasive. I've handled worse," I lied, "I just want you here in case anything goes wrong."

The whift stared, which I was forced to take as affirmation. Things like agreement or disagreement were so ubiquitous that they were handled almost exclusively through emanations.

I gripped the handle of the sturdy metal door and felt the latch click. The whift's antennae twitched nervously. I pulled it open with all my strength and handed it to the whift. She stared at me and then I stepped inside.

I was well familiar with the enormous room. I'd been starting at it for days, but this was a totally new perspective. From the bottom looking up, it left me feeling exposed. I think there was something instinctual about it. Inside of me was some ancient Fyrix screaming that there's nowhere to hide in this vast space. It didn't help that the largest land based predator was in the middle.

I glanced back at the door to confirm my escape route and then stalked towards the creature. He was curled up on his side. His long brown mane was spilled all over the floor. I watched his back rise and fall as his chest filled with great volumes of air, and as I drew closer I heard him breathing in ways I'd never heard from the other side of the glass.

The inhalation was a slow hiss and the exhalation was the sound of wind all on its own. I wasn't going in unprepared. I'd played sounds to see how sensitive its sleep was. I'd even sent in the scent of the Fyrix to ensure that it didn't rouse him either. I've done crazy things like this before, so why was it so hard to complete the last few steps.

I squeezed my stratalyzer and felt its reassuring weight. Staring at him from far away doesn't really prepare you for just how big the howler was. In fact, if I saw what I was seeing now, I probably wouldn't have stepped in here, but...

I saw the whift watching from the door. I stalked quietly to his legs. It stirred. I froze. I perched on one leg, staring nervously, but eventually the even breaths resumed. I'd never felt so relieved. Now, where was the best place to secure some skeletal muscle... The bone seemed awfully exposed on the foreleg. I took two careful steps, kneeled, and then stuck the stratalyzer into it. The howler kicked out. It missed me. I twisted the handle and yanked it out before sprinting for the exit. Gone were the pleasant breaths and its place where groans and popping sinews.

The door seemed so far away. The whift was standing there staring past me right at the howler. It was standing now. I ran, reached out for the door, and then the whift shut it in my face.

"Are you serious---?!"

I was so outraged that I'd forgotten everything for a moment, but then it all came back to me.

I turned slowly and walked backwards. It was staring at me. Stars above it was massive. It was staring right at me. It wasn't even babbling. My back hit the door. Okay, I've been in similar situations. It's been fed. It shouldn't be hungry. If I just make it clear that I'm not a threat it should leave me alone.

It crossed the whole distance I'd had to run in three strides. I must've smelled a mess. My organs were spewing out everything on instinct. Some kind of moribund cocktail to warn the ancient Fyrix that what's about to kill me might try to kill them as well.

I didn't want to die...! What was I thinking, coming in here like this...? Just because I wanted to show up that stupid whift...

"Y-you know, I was the only one on your side...!" I spoke to it despite myself. It towered over me and draped me in its long shadow.

It stared at me. I stared at it.

What was it waiting for...? It opened its mouth. The sight of its maw made me flinch, but it only babbled. Its eyes screwed around as if waiting for something, and then it babbled again. Its eyes screwed a different way, then more of that bestial babbling. I'd never been more terrified in my entire life, but then it suddenly kneeled in front of me.

"O-okay, stay there...!"

"Sss-krah--chay tcht-hhrg-aare...!"

My blood froze at the nightmarish mockery. It was a higher register than I'd ever heard from its mouth, remarkably close to mine. I suddenly recalled the admiral's theory that they mimicked the speech of intelligents to hunt them.

It stared at me, its head tilting and its piercing eyes staring straight into me. I didn't move, didn't make any motion that could set it off. It showed its teeth and my back climbed the wall in a flash of panic. I was face to face with it now. I could feel the moisture of its breath condensing on my exoskeleton.

I'm not sure why, but my back slid back down the wall. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was acceptance, but I just couldn't summon the will anymore. It reached out and snatched me by the arm. Well, this was it. I suppose it's a fitting way to go for a xenobiologist, but it was strangely... gentle... more curious.

And then he let out an antennae-snapping screech. He let go of my arm and went rigid, clutching at his neck, then going rigid again as it spasmed. I heard the clicking of electricity and felt myself yanked backwards. The top of the door streaked across my vision as I landed on my back. I heard the door slam.

There were two whifts there. One had the remote to the electric collar in his hand. I rubbed where the howler had grabbed me idly as they stared at me. I was still shaken up, but I didn't like how they were looking at me, and so I stood.

"Your stupidity is an embarrassment to all Fyrix."

It was the Fyrix who'd efflugated at me. At least, I was pretty sure.

"I would've been fine if she hadn't slammed the door in my face!" I pointed at the whift beside him, "I know you don't like me, but trying to get me killed is a bit much, don't you think?"

They only flicked their antennae, "I would ask for viraas, but I do not want it from someone like you." They declared, and then walked away. The other whift followed quickly behind him.

Thinking back on it, she was the one who'd jumped at just the sight of the howler when we first started. Shit... she'd been terrified. I probably would've been able to tell if I could... I clenched my hands and felt something in them. I looked down and realized I was still carrying the stratalyzer.

Well, at least this wasn't a total disaster. I rubbed my arm again, remembering the strangely squishy sensation of his fingers against my exoskeleton.

Chapter Text

    
INT. PLAIN WHITE ROOM - BRIGHT

Wait.

EXT. RIBSPREADER GULCH - LIP OF THE CANYON - DAY

KAEL, CORAX, and RYEN are sitting around the remnants of last night's fire. RYEN 
rubs his leg. The others gain their bearings after the attack. 

        KAEL
    I told you that this would happen.

        CORAX
    Evil creatures!

        RYEN
    I don't know... It wasn't armed or anything, I just thought maybe we could 
    learn something from it.

        CORAX (CONT'D)
    Evil, evil creatures!

        KAEL
    What do you mean it wasn't armed? It had that needle that it just stabbed 
    you with.

        CORAX (CONT'D)
    Trying to kill us in our sleep!

        RYEN
    It wasn't that big. I still say it was worth the risk. Isn't that why we 
    split up...? So we could learn more about them...?

        KAEL
      (Throwing his arms up)
    Oh yes, we've learned so much! We've learned that they can electrocute us 
    whenever they want. By the gods, when was the last time we were left so 
    helpless...

KAEL looks around.

        RYEN
    Mother Eyeless...?

        KAEL
    No, no it was... It was... The Summoning Star, when we... Blast it all I 
    don't remember! They've taken that too! The records! 

RYEN's face morphs as he searches the walls.

        RYEN
    You're right... I didn't think of that. It's gone, isn't it...? All our 
    history...?

        CORAX
    Shiteaters! They're trying to take everything from us! Why...? What did we 
    do...? We're the Wardens of Light...! 

        KAEL
    We are good and they are evil; that's all there is to it. That's the way 
    it's always been.

There is a somber pause.

        RYEN
    Surely our Shaper is stronger than their Defiler...

        CORAX
    Of course! Of course, of course, of course! Not another word on that, Ryen!  
    We should have killed that one when we had the chance. Too kind, much too 
    kind! We're suffering for it...! 

        RYEN
    But that's what makes us the Wardens of Light...

NYRIA rides up and looks over the party of three. She dismounts and walks over.  
The sun catches her golden hair as her armor gently clinks. 

        NYRIA
    You're sounding like Khorrin, Corax.

CORAX hisses.

        NYRIA (CONT'D)
    You're right, Ryen... It's just...

She trails off. KAEL leans back and stares into the sky.

        KAEL
    Great, we've gone from the Wardens of Light to the philosophers of misery.  
    Perhaps if we wait around long enough the defiler will save us the trouble 
    of living.

NYRIA shakes her head.

        NYRIA
    Are the others not back yet?

        RYEN
    I haven't seen Cordyll or Thalric since we split up, but I saw Khorrin on 
    the way here. He's around, I'm sure of it.
      (Starts leaking tears)
    I'm sorry... But all our history...? The bones too...!

I really don't want to be in here any more.

* * *

I stared vacantly at the creature. He was sitting on the floor with both joints of his legs beneath his head. His arms were locked around his legs just above the feet, making him quite compact. It was difficult to focus on my work because I noticed that water was leaking from its eyes.

I wondered what the reason was. Is that a natural response of being in an excited state? I'll need to ask the admiral if it exhibited this behavior during capture... Apart from that, I wondered if it could be because of something on my body. Usually we're careful with new species because of the risk that even a benign protein to us could have disastrous effects to them, but this wasn't exactly a standard operation.

Perhaps it was trying to flush out some irritant I brought in...? It didn't seem to be in distress though. Even so, that was quite the volume of fluid. I was lost in watching it roll down the face and disappear in the cavity between its legs and upper body.

I finally looked at my hands. I really should've gone back to my dormitory. I was still shaking. I've always thought of myself as headstrong, but I guess that didn't extend to the rest of my body. There's certain hormones that affect prey species and right now I was experiencing all of them.

I couldn't smell it, but the whifts had cleared out because of my emanations of terror. It wasn't just that though, it was like my body had been preparing itself for death and was confused with what to do with itself when that hadn't come. My senses were greatly obtunded. Even moving felt like pushing through a thick hisk soup, but beyond the physical effects, I just felt like death.

Still, even if I went back to my dorm to rest, it would probably be even more tortuous because the howler is all I'd end up thinking about. My antennae twitched as the machine behind me suddenly chimed. I spun around and pulled out the tubes. It was about five, all from different depths of the biopsy. I thought that was a good number.

I slid my chair to the side and pushed the first one into the sequencer. It'll be nice to rule out any genetic tampering once and for all. I leaned back in my chair and tried to calm myself. No matter how advanced our equipment became, cells refused to multiply any faster than they were programmed to.

That gave me plenty of time to think.

He didn't try to kill me... I rubbed my arm again. I shouldn't make too many assumptions. An unfortunate number of xenobiologist had met unfortunate ends after projecting emotions onto their subjects. Maybe the howler wasn't hungry, maybe the whifts saved me at the last moment, but even so...

The machine chimed and snapped me out of it. I pulled it out and pushed in the second sample before settling back into my chair and squeezing the armrests.

He'd been extremely alert. It was completely different from his behaviour during all my other tests. He was still babbling, yes, but his attention was fixed. It makes me wonder if the reason he was ignoring all the testing apparatuses is because he already understood them and simply had no interest. He certainly seemed curious about me, even if it was as a potential piece of meat.

Another chime, another vial.

It was difficult to get it out of my head. I'd be seeing that face in my dreams. Those piercing blood-green eyes, those teeth... It made me feel a little guilty, like I don't deserve to be a xenobiologist if I let something like that get to me, but it was terrifying. He's beautiful in his own way, and that aspect is precisely what makes him such a fascinating specimen, but that doesn't deny the twisting feeling in my innards.

I slid in vial number three.

If it responds so strongly to direct contact, I'll need to think up some way to get closer to it while still remaining safe. I can't rely on electric shocks all the time, and I don't want to torture the poor thing. Maybe some kind of thick glass partition with robotic limbs...? I wonder if the admiral would grant me that... He'd probably call it a waste of time.

In went vial number four.

And then there was that vicious mockery of my voice... The way that the howler issued each mangled syllable from that cavernous throat was simply wrong. It was difficult to express simply how wrong it felt, other than to say that it is not something that should be heard. The Fyrix language should not sound like that, and yet it had. It was the familiarity mixed with the bestial which made it so unsettling.

Why did it do that in the first place...? Is it simple mimicry..? I rubbed my arm, recalling the way its mouth stretched and pursed to gurgle my words back at me accompanied by such a widening of the eyes as if to take in as much of me as possible. Why...? Why did it make the noises it did...?

The chime came again. I pulled out the vial, and only when I was in the process of sliding in the next vial did I notice the green light on the side of the machine.

Oh.

* * *

"Grace, Admiral Nestiri!" The driver said as we landed. I give him [Grad] and he responded with [Yaelg] as I slid open the door.

I hopped off the hoverskimmer and stroked my antennae as the wind blew around me. I could still smell it from all the way out here. I should've made them douse it with water before loading it into the facility, but I doubt it would've done much good against that much filth.

The lavender skies of Luoma were always a welcome sight after long deployments. I've been here for five days, but so much of that was spent indoors I'd hardly had the chance to appreciate it. I stared at it on the way towards the Heron Research Center and as soon as I was inside they were gone again.

The impromptu laboratory was in the disused wing and up the stairs. I had to pass by the enormous door on my way. I stared at the tall metal door and continued on my way. I opened the door at the top and saw the doctor staring at her terminal.

I emanated my appearance with all the appropriate mixtures until I remembered her condition. I knocked the door loudly. Her antennae shot up and she spun to face me.

"Admiral Nestiri!" Zyrrs exclaimed, standing up and adjusting her stole, "Thanks for showing up on such short notice."

"Yes..."

By the design she smelled awful. She smelled like one of the trainees stumbling out of the desensitizer after experiencing a simulated disembowelment. It wasn't usually their place, but shouldn't her whifts have informed her?

"Where are your whifts...?"

"Oh, them..." She paused, "Admiral, if one of your whifts efflugated at you, what would you do?"

I must've misheard.

"Excuse me?"

"Ah---it's not important."

I had to wrack my brains around it. It was such a bizarre question. It was like asking what I would do if one of my whifts suddenly declared themselves saratan and emanated commands at me. Conceivably, it was possible, but it also would never happen.

"I would drag them into an aratrost and scour them until they were manumit, and then I would do it again until they were threll, and then I would throw them into the bleeds and ask the design to cross their paths with a ginru." I said matter-of-factly, "Why?"

She knitted her fingers, some kind of alien body language again, "Well... That's what one of mine did..."

"Oh."

I guess it wasn't that unheard of.

"Well, that's different. You've probably confused them. How can you expect to lead anyone if you don't smell like a leader?"

"You're the---!" She wisely stopped, "It's difficult to do that, given my unique situation."

She meant her disability. I fluttered my flanges and pulled her close despite her stench, "Here." I poked her in the thorax, "Focus there, let some out."

At first she was letting out an expression of carnal interest, which was almost certainly unintentional and unwanted. Eventually though I caught a trickle of [Beas] coming from her flanges.

"Now here." I poked the other side, "No, not that one---yes that one. Use that whenever they follow your orders. Use this one when they are showing signs of disobeying." My finger pressed just below.

"That'll make them listen to you, and if they don't just threaten them with an aratrost. It's your right." I let her go. Say one thing about Admiral Nestiri, he's sympathetic. She stumbled a bit, "Thank you...?" Her emanations weakened.

"No, you can't stop." I pointed at my own thorax, "You need to release that all the time." I flicked an antennae, "By the way, you smell absolutely horrid and in the future I would appreciate if you washed yourself before calling me."

"Sorry... I had a bit of a run in with the howler." She admitted, stealing a glance at the beast below.

I'd almost forgotten it was there. What an unpleasant thing. Its face was red and wet for some reason. I rocked on my tarsi for a moment.

"So, the point of all this?"

"Oh, right...!" She dove over the counter of her desk and pulled out a roll of paper. She unfurled it and showed me an image of two howlers standing atop a sea of sand. They were locking hands and grappling. Did she make this herself...?

"Did you call me here just to show me your artistic impression."

"No---it's important, it's just---I thought I should show you this first. This is what I've gathered about it's environment. You're still looking for its home planet, right...? I thought this might give you an idea of what to look for."

"I see..." I sat down, "Continue."

"Well, based on its bipedal locomotion, it obviously favors efficiency over stability." She pointed at the feet, "I think they're long distance hunters and adapted to uneven terrain, but compared to similar species their feet are quite soft, which seems to me that they walk across sand or similarly soft materials."

I stared.

"I've realized that their skin is quite sensitive to solar radiation, and that leads me to believe that their planet is covered with dense clouds that block out most direct exposure." She pointed at the grey blanket of clouds, "Also, they're quite resilient to heat, so it's possible that their planet is very active volcanically."

That explained the volcanoes in the background.

"I've also recently observed that it's quite adept at flushing its eyes with water, which is an adaptation to this dusty environment."

"Is that what it's doing..." I stole another glance at the howler. It was wiping the water off its face and muttering as it always did.

"Based on the spectrums of light that it's most sensitive to, the skies and the sand are probably red while it's prey is blue or green, since that's the color they're most sensitive to."

"Okay we're looking for a cloudy planet." I stood up impatiently and glanced at the door, "Anything else?"

"Oh---sorry I don't have the elemental surveys finished yet, but that's the thrust of it." She put away the poster and wrestled hands.

I would've left, but it was obvious she had more to say.

"So, I told you I had a bit of a tangle with it, but that's how I got some of its living tissues, and after examining them..." She paused meaningfully, "I've determined that it's been genetically modified during its life."

What?

I turned without word and looked down at the howler, examining it as if for the first time. So many things were racing through my head, and it was so crowded that after pointing all I could ask was,

"Why is it doing that?"

Doctor Zyrrs looked down at the howler as it sat atop the chair and rocked back and forth, water still streaming from its eyes.

"I don't know, it's been doing that since I took a tissue sample. I think it might be reacting to some kind of irritant I brought in."

I stared at it.

* * *

    
EXT - DARKMOOR FOREST OUTSKIRTS - DAY

CORDYLL walked the muddy paths. His expression is resolute, set. He's tired.  
He's been walking all night and has had hardly any rest. His quest to learn more 
about the DEFILER has been a waste of time. How does the DEFILER do the things 
he does? We still don't know.

        KHORRIN
    Hey there, Cordy.

CORDYLL spins and sees KHORRIN leaning against a tree. His arms are folded and 
his expression is darkly humorous.

        CORDYLL
    What are you doing here, Khorrin.

KHORRIN straightens and walks with deliberate, long-legged strides to stand in 
CORDYLL's path. He shrugs casually.

        KHORRIN
    Wanted to talk, away from the others. 

        CORDYLL
    Away from Corax.

        KHORRIN
    Such and so.
      (Grins)
    I suppose you felt the attack on the others?

        CORDYLL
    Bound as we are.

        KHORRIN
    What do you think...? 

        CORDYLL
    What do I think? I think we're being assaulted by forces beyond our 
    understanding and you're wasting our time.

        KHORRIN
    That's precisely it. Wasting time...
      (He paces in circles.)
    Wasting time running around. Wasting time talking... I just got back from 
    the wise women of Nandu, and while I wouldn't say I got nothing out of it.
      (Grins)
    I got nothing useful out of it.

        CORDYLL
    Your point, Khorrin?

KHORRIN frowns.

        KHORRIN
    All of this is pointless. The chitokyns don't obey the laws of this place.  
    They're not from here.

CORDYLL remains silent, but his expression stern.

        KHORRIN (CONT'D)
    They're not going to stop, and eventually they'll take everything, all 
    because our Shaper's powerless to stop them.

CORDYLL rests his hand on his pommel.

        CORDYLL
    I should've expected as much from you.

        KHORRIN
    Spare me the blind devotion, Cordyll! You think gaining his favor will earn 
    you anything...? He can't even save himself anymore. We're trapped.

CORDYLL draws his blade.

        CORDYLL
    THAT'S ENOUGH!

KHORRIN dances away on fleet feet. He draws his own wicked blade and spins it in 
his palm before bringing it to his face.

        KHORRIN
    They'd laugh if they could see you now.

INT. PLAIN WHITE ROOM - BRIGHT

        THE SHAPER
    That's not true!

        KHORRIN
      (Grins evilly)
    You're no god. You're naked in the dark. They'll crush you. They'll break 
    you, and you'll let them because you're powerless.

   
    Stop!

Scream until your throat bleeds. No one's coming. No one's there. You're all alone. It's your fault you're all alone. All that effort, all that pain, and for what? It wasn't enough, it was never enough. Strip it away and what's left...?  Anything worth keeping...? You can't find meaning in the dust, no matter how hard you try. You're powerless. Lost... Lost in the dark... Lost in the cold...  Where are you...? Where is everyone...? I don't, please I don't want to, please I don't

I don't, I don't

God, their bodies...! Boiled out eyes, bloated. Waiting out there. Still waiting out there. I'll see you tomorrow, Liam! You cut off her head. I cut off her head...? Skin like paper; God, God, God! The teeth of the saw. The walls...! I can't breathe. I want to go home...! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Not back there! Break already you stupid fuck.

Please somebody

Chapter Text

"...Are you certain?" Admiral Nestiri asked as he gazed down at the specimen below. The creature continued its curious fits and I found myself watching it alongside him, "The Stawbs on Klithere alter their genetic code during their lifespan, do they not?"

It's always the Stawbs. Why is that the only abberential organism anyone seems to know about...? I clasped my hands and measured my words.

"The Stawbs are single celled microorganisms..." I said slowly, "That level of living morphogenesis existing on a macro scale such as the howler is less likely than every atom in your body tunneling to the other side of the universe."

The admiral flicked an antennae and began to pace, "I should have known that that size was unnatural... What did they change?"

"It's impossible to tell." I spread my hands, "I would need to see an unaltered specimen first, and even then it would take a laboratory much better than this half a Luoman year to finish mapping out every expression of its genetic code."

He thrust his teasing finger into my chest, "I don't care for your excuses and I don't think you grasp the gravity of this situation." He leaned in.

"Guess."

I withered away and brushed his finger off, "I-I really can't say. I don't think the size was changed much. Comparatively few sequences were changed---they were very precise and specific sections, but again, it could be anything."

The admiral fluttered his flanges and then backed off, stepping back over the terraced glass. He gripped the railing and looked down once again at its babbling fits.

"So, it's like that because it's been tampered with."

"I..."

"'I can't say, I can't say'" He echoed, "You've been here for days and you're no wiser than I was just from looking at it. I want to know, is it like that because it's been tampered with?!" He pointed. "Most likely..." I admitted, "It's been impossible for me to rationalize many of its behaviours from an evolutionary standpoint. Several of them appeared to be actively detrimental for survival. Before I'd assumed that there must be some piece that I'm missing, but if it's been modified during its lifespan..."

He didn't speak for some time, watching impassively at the creature rocked back and forth and leaked fluids and mucous from its sensory organs.

"It makes no sense!" Nestiri beat his hand into the rail, "Why would they go through all the trouble if they were going to break the Mandate anyway?!"

"They...?"

He turned, "I'm speaking at you biologist, not with you."

I let my antennae droop.

"Stop that. That impertinent and unbecoming gesture. I'm not one of your offworlder friends who needs the help. I can smell it on you, and I hate how you drag me down to your level." Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to be back at my apartment on Tirotiro. I suppressed the urge to wring my fingers and simply stood there. The admiral was under stress, of course. That was why he was speaking these things instead of merely thinking them. I really, really hated the Fyrix.

I thought back to my Vextrid friend and the way she filled her air sacs to calm herself. It was a steady and mindful in and out. She'd always been excitable, so it was often I'd see this technique in action. After a while I'd thought to try it myself. My respiratory system is utterly unlike hers, relying instead on a system of spiracles and flanges to passively pass air across my vessels, but I focused on it regardless.

I thought about the air flowing through me, each particle slipping into the cracks and crevices of my body to infuse me with the self perpetuating chemical reaction known as life. I felt my heart pushing it around and I felt an odd connection to the world as it blew through me.

My attention turned to the howler as he wrapped his arms around his chest. He just kept rocking back and forth, back and forth... I wasn't upset about the admiral. Not really. It was the howler, I realized. It was so sad, such a beautiful creature being mangled into that thing down there by someone's twisted ambition.

"...Answer me, Zyrrs!"

His voice came as a shock to my antennae, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were speaking with me." I said as if still in a dream, but he remained as implacable as ever. I couldn't even tell if that short stint of courage had affected him at all.

"What are the limits, what are the possibilities." He pointed, and seemed to hate it, "What could they have done to make it like that?"

I resisted the urge to plead ignorance, "It could be anything. It's just code. It's possible they've given it some metabolic requirements that only they could provide as a means to control it."

It fit too well. The howler was mindless and absent because someone had altered the thing's mind. What we were looking at wasn't the bizarre but purposeful behaviour of an organism, it was the confused flailing of a puppet whose strings had been cut. It fit much too well.

After so long working and with nothing to show for it, it was tempting to snatch at the first plausible explanation. It was motivated reasoning. It was confirmation bias. But, it was also very plausible.

"What a nightmare..." Nestiri eventually declared, "I've got to summon the Sovereign Superiors and start an Inquisition of the Mandate."

I wasn't sure whether he was talking with me or at me, so I kept quiet as he walked across the room. He reached the door and I realized he was about to just up and leave.

"What do you want me to do?"

"You can go back to Tirotiro if you wish. As far as I'm concerned you've done your job."

"W-what?" I startled, "But admiral, there's still so much we don't know about the howler! I've got so many more tests I'd like to run!"

"For what purpose...? This isn't anything you could put into your database. It might've been a creature once, but now it's a genetically altered biological weapon. Beyond that, it's about to be the center of an interplanetary crisis."

"What are your plans for him, then?"

"Him...?" The admiral asked, but ignored it, "We'll hold the creature until the Superiors can examine it themselves. After that, we might dissect it and see if we can't learn anything useful should we be forced to encounter them again."

I felt ice in my veins. I was no stranger to dissections, but the howler's mimicked speech made it feel too familiar, "Regardless, I'd like to continue my research until then. If it's being controlled it's probably by some hormone or compound, if I could find what it is..."

The chances of that were about a trillion to one, but he didn't know that. I wished I could tell what he was thinking, or read anything from his blank expression and black eyes.

"If you think it will---"

A jagged burst of sound ripped through the air. My limbs stiffened in instinctive alarm as it rattled off the walls and through my body. Admiral Nestiri gripped a nearby desk for balance. We exchanged looks in the fragile silence the sound left behind and winced as that sound came again. It began with a sharp, forceful onset before stretching into an erratic oscillation.

I ran to the balcony and stared. The admiral fell in beside me. The howler was standing, gripping his head. He let out a meandering whine that morphed into another stentorian roar that strained his vocal cords. I gripped my antennae to dampen the painful vibrations and watched as the specimen paced around heavily.

"What's wrong with it?!" Nestiri shouted at me.

"I'm not sure...! He must be in some kind of distress due to whatever was causing him to discharge all those fluids!" I barely managed to say before another roar tore through its throat.

The howler's spherical eyes rolled in their sockets, taking in anything and everything with a frantic thirst. It was completely different from before. This was an intensity and state of arousal that I hadn't seen even when the thing was stalking me. There wasn't a trace of the detached fugue which had defined it, nor the constant near-lingual babbling. Both me and the admiral watched with morbid fascination as he stumbled around, snapping his neck this way or that to peer at everything. The protective lids over his eyes were blown wide and revealed the full rings of green and black.

Then he saw the door.

His stare carried the kind of dark promise that could only come from a predator. He bellowed and ran across the room, throwing his weight into the reinforced door. The impact was like a clap of thunder. I felt the rails shudder in my hands as it reverberated through the very foundations. He stumbled back, and hurled himself at it once again.

"It's trying to break out!" The admiral gawked.

"Don't worry...!" I assured him weakly, "The howler's body is massive, but it's much weaker than steel. He's going to break himself before that door!"

In fact, that was what I was worried about. He was throwing his weight against the door without any regard for his body's limits. It was looking like he really would break himself. This wasn't normal animal behaviour. Was this on account of whatever tampering had been done to it...?

The thunderclaps came one after another. The howler's teeth were exposed and slavering, its eyes wedge shaped under scrunched up flesh. Despite the ferocious display, my mind was elsewhere. It must've known that that door was the only way out of the room. Why else would it attack it so ferociously...? That showed some degree of object permanence, as well as the basic reasoning that destroying it would allow it to escape.

There were some frantic calls coming in from the other wings of the facility. It was difficult to explain the situation while my whole body was shaking from the constant impacts. Finally the howler seemed to slow, collapsing against the cold steel with one lingering impact. His chest rose rapidly, mouth agape to suck in the great volumes of oxygen necessary to fuel such power. His left side was bright red as he slumped to the floor.

"Well, that gave me quite the fright!" I wished I knew the emanation for mild humor, but when I looked over I saw the admiral's hands well still shaking.

"The sooner we dissect this thing the better..."

My antennae drooped. I turned my attention back to the creature. He stood and rubbed his arm as he walked back to the chair. He looked defeated. I supposed he would sit down and nurse his wounds, but instead he stalked around it. His massive hands wrapped around the backrest and then his whole body tensed. Every muscle seemed to bulge with the effort.

"What's it doing now!?" Cried the admiral.

I didn't have an answer, or at least I didn't until the chair started to bend.

It didn't matter. It was bolted down. That chair wasn't going anywhere, but it was difficult to remain levelheaded as its feral growled mixed with the sound of bending steel. Only two of the feet had been bolted down. Any more seemed like an unnecessary effort, but now I wasn't so sure.

It soon refused to bend anymore no matter how much the howler grunted and strained, but then he started pulling it back. The metal screeched in the opposite direction, groaning all the way back down on all fours, and then he pushed it back forward, twice as fast this time. Back again, forwards again, back again, forwards again, faster, faster, and as I felt nanthe rising up my gorge, the steel chair snapped.

He let out a mad roar and charged at the door, slamming steel against steel with a deafening clatter. His arms were like the stroke of an engine, hammering the corner of the chair against the reinforced steel. That was multi-step problem solving. The admiral had said it seemed capable of tool use, but this was beyond anything I was prepared for.

The door dented under the savage, slavering onslaught and we watched in disbelief as a sliver of light peeked through the top corner of the door.

"Rot and musk!" The admiral swore, "Enough of this!"

The howler dropped the chair and seized, falling to the floor. The paralyzed muscles could only produce one tone of its scream as it convulsed. I watched as the admiral thumbed the controls, then watched the howler writhe a second time. He rolled. Each time he tried to move earned him another shock, like something turning from a liquid to a solid over and over again.

He reached up towards his neck. His face was twisted into the most ferocious snarl I'd seen yet, but the longer it went on the less it seemed to affect him. He pushed through the electricity until his trembling hands wrapped around the collar. He pulled. He must've deformed it enough to separate the contacts from his skin because the shocks immediately weakened, but he wasn't done.

He pulled and pulled and pulled, fleshy skin peeling back to reveal clenched teeth. Blood leaked from his fingers and down his arms. It was terrifying, knowing that it could summon more strength than even its own body could handle. The clasp gave way with a loud pinging sound and the broken collar was thrown against the wall with another wild roar.

With bloody hands he lifted the steel chair and bashed it into the door. The gap at the corner grew imperceptibly wider as the howler cried out with each booming strike. I couldn't look away.

"Bless the bleeds---!" Nestiri pressed the comms on his suit, "Numbers 4, 6, and 10, get to the complex now! Yes, armed! Now, curse it, now!" He pressed his comms and ran for the exit, "Civil protectorate, this is Admiral Nestiri, I need---!" And then he was gone.

I wasn't sure he was going to make it. His strength was flagging, each strike slower and weaker than the last. The gap was substantial, but the heavy bolt and hinges held fast. He stopped, breathing, and then jammed the leg of the chair into the gap. With what was left of his strength he pushed it up, levering the creaking steel. The door peeled back. I was awestruck.

The howler threw the chair to the floor and lifted his body into the gap between the bolt and the hinges. It didn't look like he should fit, but his body squished and contorted in ways that felt wrong for something so large. His legs dangled and then disappeared.

I ran to the monitor and switched to the cameras just in time to see the howler fall to the floor. The fact that it had escaped seemed distant, something that had to be poked and prodded at before it registered as reality. This fact seemed to confuse the creature just as much, because he stood there, staring blankly down the wide hall. I wasn't thinking about that so much, I was overcome with a perverse glee, It was intelligent. Very intelligent.

Then with another shout from its raw throat it charged down the hall. A Fyrix appeared. He was wearing combat livery. One of Nestiri's men. My heart froze. It was too late, they'd met at the corner. Not even enough time to lift his weapon. The howler seized him. Threw him to the ground hard. He bounced. The sound made me ill. This was its nature.

The whift sprawled. The howler loomed, face contorted and teeth on full display as it bore down. The whift threw out his arms and cried out. Pathetic. Helpless as he curled into himself. I couldn't watch, couldn't stomach the sight of splattered chitin and organs that was about to explode beneath its fist. My hands couldn't cover my eyes in time before---it stopped.

The howler's face contorted a different direction as it stumbled back, and then disappeared around the corner. The whift was left trembling on the floor.

Fear...?

Why...?

Something else...?

Certainly not compassion or empathy, because those only came with the theory of mind, and if it had that, and the intelligence, and the capacity for language...

I felt ill.

Chapter Text

"---Yes I'm serious!" I shouted into the comms, "All available enforcers to the Heron Research Center. Breach protocol. Yes, Admiral Nestiri. High Executor of the 12th Fyrixian Fleet...! I'll spit nanthe down your nestling's throats! No! Yes! Identification code 52-SPIKE-40!"

My emanations were an acrid swirl of annoyance and stress. The cargo door rattled closed. It was out of sight, but I could feel it stomping around. #6 ran up and pressed his back to the wall beside me.

"[#10] is down, my saratan." He dropped a plasma rifle into my hands.

"For the love of---" My anger was interrupted by the comms, "So you're back! That tone suits you! As I've told you, an enormous and exceedingly dangerous organism has escaped from its cell in the research center. Of course! See that you do!"

I gripped the rifle and swung around the corner. I caught a glimpse, had barely enough time to leap back as a burst of searing plasma streaked past. The blob of supercharged molten air singed some hairs and splattered against the cargo door. It hissed, popped and bubbled before merging with the metal of the door.

Its teeth... Eyes... No, don't emanate that, not in front of your whift, "It has his rifle." I forced out [Krenne] to drown out the [Fekke], "Return fire. We can't let it go this way!"

The whift ran past me and started firing blindly around the corner. I worked myself to my feet and pulled out my interface. The plasma screamed back and forth. It took agonizingly long to access the center's database and insert my master clearance. Finally the thin screen lit up with the security feeds.

I saw the creature from above. It didn't look as fearsome from this height, but that was only because there was nothing to compare its size to. Its grotesque form was pressed against the wall, the stolen gun tight to its thorax. It suddenly swept the rifle around the corner.

"Now!"

It ducked back as another gout of plasma streaked by. Shoulder against the wall the howler suddenly raised one hand, flashing through various extensions of its digits as it morphed from one tangled symbol to another. I stared on in confusion. For what purpose...? Did its mimicry extend to gesticluar languages?

"Don't let it control the corridor!" I ordered, "It knows this way, and the other exits are too small for it! Hold it here!"

#6 emanated understanding. I switched to another angle and saw its expression. I heard the rapid breaths hissing through the holes in its face. The creature from before was gone, replaced with this viciously intent beast. There was a hint of that vacancy, but it was focused on the middle distance instead of something far beyond. The puppet had strings again.

#4 ran in and fell in with #6, "[#20] and [#31] are on the way, my Saratan."

"Good."

I reached for my comms and ordered them to the back entrance. We would pincer it. How I wished I had my whole saratanate here, but this five---four, I had to remind remind myself. This was all I had. The rest were in orbit. We didn't even have our exosuits.

"Keep it pinned down." I ordered, "The others will come from across the hall. We'll move in as soon as they're in position."

The hall split into four directions. It was stuck in the corridor from its cell and we were blocking the only exit its size. This would be over soon. I looked at the interface in my hand. The howler knew it was backed into a corner. Its eyes roamed, flashed more fingers, and then returned fire. The whifts ducked back.

"Don't---!" I shouted.

It seized the opportunity and leapt into the space, dropped down onto all fours, and then hurled itself into the corridor. The roof cracked and debris crumbled around its back. Plasma fire clipped the corner as it disappeared.

"Shit!" I ran and shoved the whifts from behind, "Go!"

We ran, my eyes locked on the interface. The howler galloped to the end and bashed the door, blowing it open before twisting sideways. It slipped its shoulders through the space, gripping the frame and birthing itself through the other side like a flower pushing through the soil.

It got through just as we reached the corridor. The door was thrown shut. We jumped over the ceiling debris and #4 threw herself at the door. She bounced off hard, tumbling backwards. I checked my interface and switched views just in time to see it throw around a desk as if it were as light as a leaf. It landed atop another desk already in front of the door.

I fired my plasma rifle at it and succeeded only in filling the corridor with acrid smoke which caused our spiracles to seize.

"Come on!" I said, running back the opposite way.

The clamor of things breaking and the roof cracking faded into the distance. We came back to the junction. I saw the body of #10 lying in the hall. He didn't smell deceased. He was feigning it. Apparently that had been good enough to trick the howler.

I sent him several emanations: assuring the abatement of the immediate threat, commendation for surviving, chastisement for letting his weapon fall into the enemy's hands, and a reminder of his duties and oaths according to the precepts. He rose to his feet and fell in behind us as we turned the corner.

I looked at my interface. I cycled through cameras until I found the path of destruction. It was disorienting attempting to follow its path as I tried to plan our own. The howler's hunched, lurching gait was slowing it down. I hoped it would be enough. We went through storage, then into some hydroponics.

We sprinted through the fronds and skidded around the corner. We met up with whifts #20 and #31 through engineering. The howler had crashed through three research rooms. Thyss and Euridites were fleeing and cowering as the thing carved its path of utter destruction. My guts churned imagining the frightful emanations that filled those rooms. It was a small miracle that the beast was too preoccupied with escaping to slaughter them.

It was heading towards the front. It didn't look like we were going to make it in time. The enforcers wouldn't be here in time either. There must be something in this blasted facility that could slow it down! I searched through the interface frantically and realized that despite all the destruction and chaos, the emergency system hadn't triggered. I activated it remotely and immediately sirens rattled my antennae.

The howler had been galloping towards the main hall when the blast doors came down. It slammed into the cold metal, its rage warming my heart. The center wasn't military and so it had very little in the way of automated defenses, but this part of the building did have emergency doors in the case of chemical spillage. The howler had two options now. It could go back the way it came, or head right towards us.

"[#31], [#6], circle back to the cell. Cut it off if it tries to head back. Sweep through, then rendezvous."

They emanated [Graad] and ran in the opposite direction. The remaining four of us sprinted past offices and the red fronds of decorative vegetation. The door to the main hall drew closer. Then the howler streaked by, a blur of pink before the rush of wind tickled my antennae. I don't know if it was instinct or luck, but it had chosen the one way past us. I let out enough [Cirt] to sting the receptors of anyone near before leaping into the main hall.

The ceilings were high enough for it to run with hunched shoulders as it sped towards the end. I leveled my rifle and fired. The first one went wide in my haste. The howler spun, spied us, then dove just as the other whifts leveled their rifles down the hall. It pulled a large couch for cover. It wasn't big enough to cover it completely. We fired indiscriminately, and then had to leap as the piece furniture came flying towards us.

It clipped the foot of a whift, cracked it open. I tried to level my rifle in mid air, but couldn't get it steady before the beast was scrambling to the far door. It slipped inside with those almost liquidous contortions. The whift with the broken foot collapsed and the couch careened against the wall.

[#20] assured me he was still fit despite the involuntary emanations suggesting otherwise. I acknowledged and ran ahead while he tried to keep up by hopping. The door led to cryogenics. It hissed open and was pierced by a hail of plasma fire. Molten glass tinkled across the floor as shot after shot left steaming slag in the floor.

This was suppressive fire to hold down the choke point...

"Return fire from cover. Don't let it think it can move so easily." I ordered and flicked through cameras again.

The room was tall, filled with tangles of tubes and rails. The howler was huddled behind a tank, pumping its arm and flashing more bewildering gestures. It started to walk backwards, holding the rifle which looked like a pistol steady as it moved. The return fire forced it back down, but it had the superior position.

I looked around and directed #4 to the vent above me. She emanated understanding and shot off the fastenings before climbing into it. The stalemate continued, precision shots answered with blind fire until the blackened ground in front of the door was pocked like the surface of Luoma's moon.

Plasma fire suddenly came from above, clipped the tank. The howler ducked away. We charged in, firing in its direction. It weaved through girders and pipes which broke and hissed, twisting its body and swaying its head as it moved from position to position. It was a large target, but horribly elusive. It found cover and returned fire.

I dispersed my whifts behind cover of our own. The one missing a foot collapsed behind a control panel and propped his rifle atop the console. The dim chamber flashed orange with each burst of plasma. We had the superior numbers, we had the superior positions, but it was a struggle.

The way it moved, the way it fought... it fought like us. No, it was better than us. I gripped my rifle tight. It knew battle. That left no doubt in my mind. They were weapons. Who had twisted it into this...? Who had opened up its head and scooped out everything but precise and measured savagery? There were more of them somewhere... How many...?

The panicked emanations of my whifts snapped me back to reality. It was only one, I told myself. It would die like anything else. I ducked out and fired, covering for another as they leapt behind a nearby tank. Plasma seared where they had just been. It was constantly moving, firing from as many angles as it could to confuse us.

The whifts were faltering, firing less frequently, risking fewer peeks from their cover. I emanated [Markh] tinged with [Vund] and rallied them. Their antennae perked, the grip on their weapons more sure.

"We're gaining footing!" I cried out, "Don't stop spreading out! Take it from as many angles as possible! It can only fire in one direction at once!"

I tried to cover them, ordering the crippled whift to lay down the bulk of the suppressive fire as we skittered around. The flow shifted in our favor when #31 and #6 returned. They fell in and pinned it down. It couldn't risk firing and it couldn't threaten our movements. We'd surround it in only a matter of time.

This is how you took down giants.

The thing couldn't risk moving. It knew it was pinned. It fired in a fit of rage, blasting through the ceiling and anything nearby. [Faw] leaked from my flanges before the room erupted in white. The pipes above spewed a pressurized jet that exploded into a dense fog as the coolant inside vaporized. It filled the room in moments. The frigid air filtered through my spiracles and made them seize.

Of all the lucky shots!

We were blind. It had slipped away in the initial confusion, but if it thought that was enough it was wrong. Its wretched odor was in the air, spinning, churning amidst the fog. It was moving... It was trying to slip away, but rot and musk it was quiet. It wasn't fair; something that large shouldn't be able to move so silently. If I hadn't been focused on its scent I wouldn't have even noticed. Accursed predators...

But we could move silently as well. We pushed through the fog, climbing up stairs that had deformed under the howler's weight. The cold made it difficult to filter air and the whifts were faltering. It took more and more [Marhk] to spur them on, but---

I fired a shot over the head of a whift and smelled the sudden movement. My hands shook. It had almost ambushed us. It could see...? The stench moved, exposed itself. I fired, sensed it leap. It couldn't. That ambush had been no more than a guess. An accurate guess concocted by some savage instinct beyond my understanding, but a guess nonetheless. We had the advantage here.

"It's circling around the outer perimeter!" I shouted, "Don't fire directly at the stench! Fire ahead of it in the direction of the exit!"

The plasma bursts carved cylinders through the fog before before sucking closed once again. The howler clattered against something. It wasn't controlling its footsteps anymore. It was more blind than us. Finally, something we could do that it couldn't.

Our shots were wide, short, or impossible to tell. The only thing for certain was that it hadn't been struck yet. We moved, trying to cut it off, but it was fast. I tried to remember the layout. The exit was a pair of automatic double doors, it was surrounded by unused cryo chambers and a wall with no ceiling...

It would try to go over it.

I fired from memory and heard it yelp. That was music to my antennae. It crashed into the metal scaffolding with a resonant clatter. We moved in, and then froze as an impossibly loud scream tore through us. The whifts were stunned. I was stunned too. Run away, run away, death, danger! My instincts screamed at me, told me to turn and find the hole of some kenulli tree to crawl inside. It took a will to force it down.

"It's only doing that because we're cornering it!" I would run out of [Markh] at this rate, "Go, go, go! It's running for the exit!"

They came to and all five of us ran, #20 with his broken foot was lost somewhere in the fog. We fired towards the stench, our shots lined up with the exit leaving nowhere to dodge. There was the splash of molten impact, but no death rattles. We kept running, made it through the door to the loading bay. The fog thinned, and ahead of us... a table was running. Molten craters pitted its surface and it just kept running. The thing must've weighed as much as a skimmer.

"Keep firing!"

All five concentrated fire into the back of the table, melting the metal and making it glow. Molten steel splashed into its feet causing it to stumble and howl. More material melted away, bubbling and popping onto its back as holes started to peek through. One good shot and it would go straight through its impromptu ablative shield.

It threw the table backwards and broke into an alarmingly fast sprint. It was enough to throw off our aim as it ran straight for the shutter doors. It didn't slow down, it only tilted itself. And then shoulder first, it crashed through.
Debris rained down from the howler shaped hole. It had gotten outside. I ran as hard as my legs could carry me and leapt after it. The impact must have stunned it because it was only now standing up. I tried to do the same, but stumbled. It came as a shock. Had I really been pushing myself so much...?
My body simply wasn't filtering enough oxygen to keep up with this level of exertion. It looked at me. I summoned the last of my strength to lift my rifle but only made it halfway before its foot connected with my thorax. I flipped over and fell onto my back. It hadn't even put its strength into it. It was effortless, like I wasn't even a threat.

It towered over me like a stormfront swallowing the horizon. I reached out for my whifts, but they were exhausted too. It stepped towards me and stared. My hands gripped the turf.

"I should've killed you when I had the chance..."

Its teeth were bared, its eyes wide and hollow. Black spots and bright red burns marked its flesh. The damage we'd done to it was small consolation. I waited for the killing blow only for it to throw its head head over its shoulder and start sprinting. My whifts...? I stared ahead and saw a hoard of enforcers surrounding the building.

My heart swelled and then darkened with anger. They were staring in shock, their weapons pointed uselessly at the ground. How had I felt when I'd first seen it...? But while they gawked it was getting further and further away!

I sat up and cried, "SHOOT IT!" emanating [Tor] with the last of my [Markh] and enough [Vunndt] to warrant several duels of honor in any other circumstance, all with the full authority of my immense viraas. It struck them like a physical blow. They raised their guns and fired a hail of kinetics as it fled.

The howler gripped its head and ducked, dropping the rifle to the ground as bullets whizzed past. One struck it in the shoulder, another in the calf, but rounds that small weren't enough to put it down. It leapt into the air at the far end of the complex, clearing a wall that was as tall as it was in a single bound. The enforcers fired after it.

"Stop!"

A familiar scent cried out, "Stop it, please!"

Doctor Zyrrs ran out onto the field, waving her disgustingly carved arms, using words like 'please' in a spoken context, acting as if she had the viraas to earn any obedience. It was meaningless anyway. It had escaped...

I wasn't even sure what I was emanating at that point. The enforcers, my whifts, they were staying far away, and then that doctor walked towards me as if she weren't trampling on all known propriety. My anger drained away to something distant and cold.

"Admiral!" She cried, gesticulating, "You can't kill it! The howler isn't some mindless beast. I don't know who's twisted it like this, but it's a thinking, feeling creature!"

"Feeling...?" I asked dangerously, standing, "That thing is a trained soldier. It was shooting to kill. If not for me it would've killed us all without hesitation. I've got a whift in there missing a foot because of it. It'll be several days before it grows back."

"That's...!" She faltered, "That's the fault of whomever modified it... The howler itself is innocent."

I thrust my finger into her thorax, "This is the language you understand, right?" I pushed her back, "I care little for your semantics. This is your fault. I told you to determine its physical capabilities. If you'd done that you would've known it could've broken down that door."

She recoiled, antennae straightening, "Admiral! The howler wasn't strong enough to do that on his own! He used a tool in a way that required multi-step problem solving. He simply hadn't shown that capability until then!"

I shoved her again and signaled for my whifts to rejoin me as I headed towards the enforcers. She followed after me.

"But Admiral! Those things that he was babbling might be his own language! We might be able to communicate with him!"

"This isn't an experiment, Zyrrs." I kept walking, "Or if it is, we're not the ones administering it. I'm not sure you realize, but a super soldier spawned by forces unknown has just escaped, one that by your own admission is dangerous and willing to kill."

Zyrrs was about to protest but let out a noise when one of my whifts suddenly seized her, "It's time for you to go back to your planet, biologist. There's nothing more for you to do here. Oh do not give me that emanation. I know you don't intend it, but someone less tolerant than me would bleed you for it. It's within my rights to hold you here indefinitely, for more reasons than you realize, but I won't."

I addressed the whift, "Take her back to the lab to collect her things..." I paused, "Pick up [#20] while you're at it. And doctor...? I trust you'll keep this matter to yourself. The Sovereign Code does not extend to traitors."

With that, the doctor was dragged away, too stunned to protest. The enforcers were watching me, intent on my every move as I climbed on top of one of their vehicles. Who was their saratan...? Iiath...? I outranked him by degrees. He had no cause to contest my borrowing of them, and they knew that. They fell in line so easily, the stench of that fight still radiating off of me.

"Let's go, before this turns into a complete disaster."

Chapter Text

Why

are they trying

to kill me don't they know

that the world will end

when I end?

Two armored vehicles on rear approach. Squad size twenty---rifles five, remainder equipped with small arms. Outside effective range. CRACK CRACK. The blind fire eats the dirt. Soft cover only. Too exposed. it's too

too exposed and they are

gaining on me need hard cover technicals splitting risk flanking the CRACK-CRACK CRACK bites my feet jink-jink-JINK hard cover ahead duck left follow the path large buildings buildings?

buildings?

line of sight broken weave and weave what is going on what is this why is this what is this why is this the

sun is warm...

warm

    
EXT - ??? - DAY

where is what why is this I was happy there why take it from me whhy why whhy must make it to dead ground don't understand everything is wrong why can they see me what have they done but I'm running so fast

so fast

CUT TO:

hurts it hurts my shoulder

CUT:

away and away and fast fastfast faster fast between scrapers but can they catch me? hurts it hurts it HURTS IT HURTS IT GOD PLEASE MAKEITSTOP HURTS

hurts it

plants red blood where is everyone where I want don't want to here I don't want to here leave me a lone just please leave me alone please please why can't I unmake them don't they know just

how powerful I am of course they know that is why they are trying to kill me because they are afraid of me because

I am the shaper of things

but where

where are you...?

Everyone...?

we are here

        THE SHAPER
    Nyria...?

THE SHAPER throws his trembling arms around NYRIA and pulls her into his 
embrace. She cradles his head and hums to him softly.

        NYRIA
    It's okay... We're here...

        THE SHAPER
    It hurts...

        NYRIA
    You can make it stop hurting.

        THE SHAPER
      (Straightening, leg shaking)
    You're right.

RYEN enters the scene, followed by THALRIC, KAEL, CORDYLL, and CORAX.

        RYEN
      (Looking around fearfully)
    What is this place...? Everything is wrong... The sky, the buildings, 
    nothing makes sense. It's all so distorted...!

        CORAX
    It is the domain of the defiler!

        THE SHAPER
    Corax is right. It seems we've been pulled fully into his domain.

        RYEN
    Does this mean you're powerless...?

        CORAX
    Watch your tongue!

        THE SHAPER
    No, it is a fair question. He doesn't have the power to unmake my worlds, 
    but I'm powerless in his. Truly I do not understand it...

        THALRIC
    You're not powerless! Far from it, High One.

        CORDYLL
      (Folding his arms)
    That's right. He could not suppress all your powers. They are small and 
    weak, but we're all still strong.

        THE SHAPER
    It's true. I feel so light... I can run so fast and jump so high. He cannot 
    contain all of my powers. He cannot stop me with thought alone they way I 
    could. He is afraid of me. That is why he relies on his minions. 

        CORDYLL
    The coward...

Sounds whine off the sloping surfaces of the misshapen, discolored, and 
discordant structures. The clipped roar of those horrible scarabesque vehicles 
echos in their ears.

        KAEL
      (Sneering)
    Perhaps it would be best to save this strategy meeting until /after/ we've 
    lost our pursuers, my fellow wardens?

THE SHAPER leaps into the air. It appears for a moment that he's regained his 
ability to fly, but he soon drifts back down. He leaps again, and again. The 
wind roars in his ears. The wind bites at his lobes. It's so bright.

So bright...

        THALRIC
    They're having difficulty navigating this maze with their vehicles. It's 
    greatly limiting their speed.
      (Pausing thoughtfully)
    We should head for the denser areas.

        KAEL
    Oh my, my. Strategy from the mighty Thalric? If you're suggesting we do 
    anything but charge straight into them then we're in dire straits indeed.

        NYRIA
    Spare us your gallows humor, Warden Kael.
      (Looking over her shoulder)
    I hate fleeing without being able to see them. Is there any way that we 
    might achieve visual on them?

        THE SHAPER
    I... I will try...

THE SHAPER leaps. He crouches, and then launches himself into the air. He grabs 
hold of the side of one of the structures. The otherworldly material yields 
under his grip. The dense foliage tickles his chest. He hauls himself up in 
flying bounds, his body incredibly light and powerful.

        CORAX
    Yes...! Yes...! Excellent, Master! Excellent!

THE SHAPER crests the building and looks down below. The meandering paths have 
the appearance of red, sandy canyons torn by rivulets from the sea. Each cliff 
appears covered with bloody red growths. He turns his gaze into the distance.  
The small creatures seem even smaller. The chitokyns are far, but they are not 
too far. More vehicles have joined the pursuit. In the distance an arm is 
raised. A weapon resounds with another loud crack.

THE SHAPER turns and leaps. The skyline tilts. Momentum surges through his body, 
a brief moment of weightlessness before his feet strike the ground. His feet 
sink and leave a dent in the porous material. It crumbles and bows as he leaps 
to the next building. 

        THALRIC
    This is perfect!
      (Thalric lets out a throaty laugh)
    While they weave, we go as the crow flies! They'll never catch up to us like 
    this! See how they scatter like roaches in the face of our marvelous escape!

        KAEL
    They're not `scattering', O' Great Tactician. They're attempting to create a 
    perimeter. Best we not slow down unless you want to get surrounded.

KAEL looks down as they fly beside THE SHAPER. The air smells sweet and clean.  
THE SHAPER suddenly stumbles. His leg buckles on the next landing. It radiates 
heat and oozes crimson ichor.

        THE SHAPER
    It doesn't hurt. 

RYEN and NYRIA help THE SHAPER to his feet. He leaps to the next building and 
lands tenderly. The wind catches his long hair. He looks at his hands briefly 
before carrying on.

        THE SHAPER
    It is strange. I feel so free...

THE SHAPER soars. The lavender sky blooms in the aperture of his eyes.

        THE SHAPER (CONT'D)
    Is this how you feel on your journeys? This lightness in your eyes? This 
    clarity in your lungs? This warmth on your skin?

        NYRIA
    Yes, High One.

        THE SHAPER
    I've always sent you on quests. This is the first time I've joined you on 
    one. It is... Terrifying... and so painful...
      (Deep breath after landing)
    But it is nice... Sometimes.

They continue to leap from building to building. Another noise pricks their 
ears. THE SHAPER turns to see black specks on the horizon.

        CORAX
    What is that...!

        KAEL
    Some kind of drone.
      (He grabs his whiskers and stares)
    How I wish my farsight worked in this realm... They appear to have mounted 
    weapons, almost like one of our █▓██▓▓░█▓█▓▒

THE SHAPER shakes his head.

        CORDYLL
    This isn't good... We may need to abandon our current course. We've lost the 
    ground units for now. We cannot risk their flying machines.

        RYEN
    Agreed...

They halt and stare down from the precipitous ledge. THE SHAPER grips the 
building and lowers himself down storey by storey. He clutches the tangled
growth for support. They snap from his weight and peel away from the face. THE 
SHAPER throws his fist at the wall. It explodes inwards. He grabs the new ledge 
and lowers himself down.

        THALRIC
    There are more chitokyns down here.

        NYRIA
    They're unarmed. Ignore them. We don't have the time.

THE SHAPER lands and sprints. He feels the wind as chitokyns flee from his 
mighty form. THALRIC lets out a throaty laugh as they navigate the twisting 
lanes. Some sort of vehicle flies towards them. CORDYLL flips it into the air.

        CORDYLL
    Creatures of darkness...! I'll show you the meaning of fear! Flee! Flee 
    before my dread aspect---!

        CORAX
    Yess...! The Shaper is here, insects!

CORDYLL'S ferocious roar joins with THALRIC's laughter as more chitokyns 
scatter. The way is clear. Things are sent flying. Noises buzz overhead.

        RYEN
    They're gaining on us! P-perhaps we should try to hide in one of these 
    buildings...?

        KAEL
    They're too small. We'd just end up boxing ourselves in. We may need to 
    fight them head on.

        THALRIC
    Fine by me.

        KAEL
    Your Solarian armor won't save you in this realm, you fool... We're more 
    vulnerable than you realize.

        THE SHAPER
    If only I hadn't dropped that flame wand of theirs...

NYRIA places her hand on THE SHAPER's shoulder

        NYRIA
    It's okay. It wouldn't have done much good against their flying machines 
    anyway. We'll think of something.

        KAEL
    What we need is a way to cover our heads and bring them into a bottleneck.  
    That might leave us with a fighting chance.

        RYEN
    Like... That?

RYEN points at the mouth of a rushing gulch, water vomiting from the buildings 
coalescing into a powerful flow before disappearing into darkness. THE SHAPER 
pauses. He stares.

        CORAX
    It is so dark...! Isn't there another way...? I don't want to drown...

It's so dark and cramped...

choking

crushing

like a throat of steel

I don't...

not anymore...

w-we...

        CORDYLL
    We don't have a choice!

The buzzing draws close. The specks swollen to spheres as metal parts ratchet 
open and whine.

        CORDYLL (CONT'D)
    You'll need to be brave! Remember when we broke into the Crimson Keep 
    through the aqueduct...? It'll be just like that!

THE SHAPER leaps in and the current takes him. He flails to keep his head above 
water as he's pulled towards the mouth and the waiting darkness. He flattens his 
body and then disappears into the constricting, frigid black.

* * *

"But surely you can see how ridiculous this all is...?" I threw out my hands in a supplicating gesture.

"It's pointless asking me, Doctor Zyrrs." The whift declared, pressing the button of one of the few elevators that were still functioning following the howler's rampage.

"Even if it's dangerous, it would be worthwhile to capture the howler alive! I'm telling you, I'll be able to communicate with him if you give me enough time. We might be able to figure out who's behind this whole thing! What's the point in sending me away?!"

"Not 'if,' Doctor. 'Is.' It is dangerous." She stood implacably, "As for your question, that is the concern of my saratan alone, but if you must drive me to insubordination, I would hazard that it is because you're clearly personally invested in the safety of that creature over the safety of your own kind. My saratan fears you will interfere."

I screwed my palps, "We both want to figure out who's behind all of this. To think that someone in the Sovereignty could be capable of such mutilation---of the mind, of the will... It's beyond cruelty. It's a crime against intelligence itself..." I realized I was shaking with anger.

"You force me to reiterate. It is pointless asking me."

The elevator doors opened. I surveyed all the damage, still struggling to process that a single organism could have caused all of this. I shook my head, antennae swaying. It was just trying to run away. It's the natural thing to do.

"You're one of his higher ranking whifts, right?"

"Yes." She flicked an antenna and I detected a hint of pride despite my scent-blindness, "I am to become Vyrek and earn my name at the next dispensation."

"Couldn't you speak with Admiral Nestiri...?"

The whift looked at me as if she'd just witnessed the grand galactic birthing of the great paragon of stupidity. I continued anyway.

"If you kill the howler, there's a chance we'll never figure out who's behind all of this! We've got an opportunity to try and question it!"

"You offworlders always seem to fancy yourselves saratans of a one-person saratanate. You are attempting to sow insubordination into a saratan's ranks. That is a serious crime against the Fyrixian Precepts. I will not, and if you are half as wise as your title implies, you will cease this idiotic line of questioning, Doctor." I could almost smell the nanthe around the word.

I balled my fists and walked past her. I should've known better than to try and appeal to a Fyrix's rationality. I pushed open the door to my impromptu lab. I looked down at the empty chamber and the ruined door.

"...You're not satisfied with that answer?" The whift followed me inside, "In that case, this is my own personal opinion. You're operating on blind faith that you can speak with a monster, and even more blind stupidity that a living weapon could tell us anything useful about its creator. There are other ways."

She stood there, irritatingly unreadable as my fingers tapped familiar strokes into the terminal.

"We've got a dozen vessels scanning the space around Khellus searching for all traces of the original vessel. We've got experts such as yourself poring over all the materials and construction of the vessel that it was being transported in. They believe it was cobbled together by the junkers. We have inquisitors heading there as we speak, as well as a dozen other places. While you've been watching it feast on carcass, my saratan has been searching every crooked hollow and following the faintest scent. Tell me, who do you think is more likely to unravel this mystery?"

I smacked the terminal with my fist, "If you don't have anything useful to say, then you can just leave!" I turned to face her the way the howler might, "Don't worry, I'll be a good Fyrix and clean up after myself. I need some time to get my equipment together, and you're just slowing me down at this point."

The whift quirked her palps. What little the Fyrix had in the way of body language was infuriating.

"I'll be back in a tenth." She turned, "Ensure you are ready by then, and don't attempt to take anything that is not yours."

"I am a doctor. Not a thief."

I tried my best to emanate hatred, hoping it followed after her. She shut the door with a resounding thud. I collapsed into my seat and then looked at my hands, wondering for a moment. I clenched them shut.

I returned to the terminal. I'm not sure why I'd resolved to do this. By the most sympathetic account it was completely idiotic, by the worst, practically suicidal. It was something that had been building inside me since I'd first landed here.

There was a good degree of spite in it. Spite for the Fyrix, spite for this whole system they'd built up, and perhaps spite for myself for being so stupid.

I should've seen this from the beginning. It was obvious in retrospect, but I'd been sucked into the admiral's trail of thought. It had been difficult for me to consider that such a large and terrifying creature could possibly possess anything but rudimentary intelligence, and yet it did. At least, enough to conceive of the 'self' and the 'other.'

I pulled up some files and started to transfer them. The animated icons swirled in my vision. I'm not as soft as they'd like to think. I was harder than any of them. I knew that there were unpleasant necessities. None of them had ever felt something die in their hands. Watch its life fade away even as you knew it was the right thing to do.

I'd had to help euthanize the aliu off of Neren, among many other sordid creatures. They screamed, cried, and whined like anything. They didn't want to die. They simply wanted to live, same as anything else. The things didn't choose to be a pest, but still they had to go.

You don't go into xenobiology because you like organic life; you do it because you love it, and sometimes that love can only be maintained through ultimate brutality. However, the howler was different.

He had spared that Fyrix. I didn't care what anyone said; there was no reason for the howler to do what he'd done if not for mercy. He'd attacked that whift. Brought him to the ground and stopped short of crushing him only because of that pathetic scream. The way his face contorted...

It had been eating at me ever since I'd come face to face with the creature. Seeing that expression, it felt as if nanthe had seeped into my entrails. It was impossible to truly decode his expressions, but when it had stared at me... Thinking back on it, I couldn't help but see an unfathomable sadness in it.

Perhaps I was projecting... But one thing was for certain: if the Admiral kills the howler, I'll never know for certain. I would live with that image of its harrowing eyes seared into my mind, always wondering what broken mind had hidden behind that terrifying mask.

The files had finished transferring. I hadn't much time. There was still so much data, but this would have to do. I pulled out the data rod and slid over to my sequencer. I pushed it into the rack and squirted some genetic base into the receptacle. The machine lit up, requesting a sequence. I offered one.

With that, I hurried to clean up my things, hoping that a tenth of a sovereign standard phase would be enough for it to complete. It felt like an eternity, but finally the machine chimed. I rushed over and pulled out the receptacle. I held it in front of me, feeling a sudden wave of hesitation. There would be no going back after this...

My antennae suddenly went stiff. Someone was climbing the stairs. I snatched a syringe and sucked my homemade virus into the metal tip. My hands shook as I brought it to my mouth, and with a final desperate push, pierced my palps. The pain wasn't the worst. The anxiety was.

I squeezed, and pulled it out, collapsing against the table in the way my roommate would to catch her breath. I caught my reflection in the metal of the synthesizer and wondered what was going on in her head.

The door swung open.

"It's time, Doctor."

I straightened, surreptitiously squirting the remains of the virus into the trash, "Yeah, yeah... Make yourself useful and get me a hovercart. It's not like I can carry this thing myself."

Chapter Text

"Lost it?!" I don't even know what I was emanating at that point, but I know all the whifts were attempting to mollify me with their own emanations. I stepped off the skimmer and landed amongst the dust.

"It's as tall as a building and stinks worse than a Gorgurian's bilgesack! I could follow that stench with both antennae clipped off, so tell me how you've all managed to lose the walking, yawping mountain of sewage!"

The enforcer, who was not my whift, responded with a heady mixture of emanations, first expressing his respect for my station followed by an introduction of his own station, a plea for understanding, and then an assertion that he had performed his duties as expected. His mixture of [Grek] and [Telt] just set me off even more.

"That is exactly it, Honored One..." He continued, "Your... Creature fled into the sewage system. We attempted to follow it, but the current was too strong even for the drones."

My antennae convulsed. My joints clicked as I resisted the raw instinct to throw myself into an unbecoming gesticulation. I forced calmness into myself and growled at the whift.

"And there was nothing that you could have done?"

"No, Honored One." He said confidently, "It was in the water before we arrived and the drones were too far to risk firing. There were civilians in the area."

I let out a harsh and weary emanation, "That drainage system's a bleeding labyrinth... It'll mask its smell too... There couldn't have been a more perfect location for it."

"Honored One, why are you so concerned?" The enforcer offered reassurance, "The biggest concern will be unclogging its swollen corpse from the system."

I efflugated at his feet. The acrid black sludge made the enforcer stumble back. The others looked on. That had caught their attention.

"You don't know that thing like I do." I wiped my palps with a handkerchief, "It's not going to die down there. To begin with, it stores air inside of its thorax, so it isn't going to drown just like that. It's not stupid, as we've been forced to understand..."

I felt at the lingering crack in my chitin subconsciously, "It wouldn't have jumped in if it didn't think it stood a chance. You'll see the truth of this matter as soon as you've been properly debriefed, but none of you are to underestimate it."

"You are certainly correct, Honored One."

I paced, and then emanated the identifying scent of one of Iiath's whifts, "Contact the Architectonics Department and get the latest holo of all the drainage systems from here to Nelexy."

They stood. I flicked an antennae and emanated [Fest]. That one suddenly scampered off, "...As for the rest of you."

A skimmer suddenly swooped in. My antennae flapped in the breeze, but as soon as it landed and the wind died down I detected something thick and grandiose in the air. The door to the skimmer was thrown open by a diminutive whift. Iiath stepped down, clad in the ribbonus livery of the viraathi.

I felt unarmed in my composite combat mesh. I emanated more [Beas] and marched to meet him. I grabbed Iiath by the arm. He grabbed mine. Then the other arm. His emanations were thick. I leaned in, and so did he. Foreheads met. Antennae tangled.

Swirls of emanations. The state of my dress; lacking creativity. Wanton disregard; Necessary given the circumstances. Questioning my judgement; My judgement is sound. Questioning my character; because of time off Luoma? Sound as ever; sounder than yours. Martial skill does not bestow grace; grace does not bestow intelligence nor correctness.

His next emanation was ever-so tainted, a lapse imperceptible to only the most adept. Lack of grace you say? Hypocrite. Acquiescence; perhaps acceptable, but no longer necessary now that he has arrived. Agreement. I disentangled myself from him, feeling proud. It had been some time.

"Hello, Nestiri. It is a surprise to see you back on Luoma."

"Not by choice." I replied, turning away, "My whifts will inform you of the situation. I'll leave this in your capable hands."

He didn't have the capability. Maybe with ginrus or thrells, but not howlers. However, dragging out a formal dispute was the last thing I needed right now. It hardly mattered. The thing had gotten away, but the rest of my whifts were on their way. They'd be able to take over, and if Iiath proved too intractable, run their own operation.

I walked past the rows of Fyrix, feeling their attention on me. So much had happened in so little time. The howler on the loose was an issue, but compared to what I'd learned, it was a drop of hisk. I climbed onto my own skimmer, gripping the overhead bar tight.

"Bring me to Central Authority."

* * *

"The winds know our names... in the vale and the brush..."

plod

"Even the stormclouds above... so sing for all of us...!"

plod

"Veil us in ash... let rain be our shroud..."

plod

"We'll sing to the silence... steadfast and proud...!"

plod

"No blade we draw... but in service of right..."

plod

"We are the mighty... mighty wardens of light...!"

* * *

"The one called Zyrrs...? Step forward."

I twitched. It took me a moment to remember where I was. The terminal. Right, right... I'd been lost in my thoughts. I stepped towards the armored Fyrix. I had to resist the urge to feel at my palps.

They felt hot. The virus shouldn't have done anything noticeable. It was probably just the needle. Still, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I realized I was walking slowly. Was that going to make them more suspicious? I couldn't read. They just stared at me.

I walked a little bit faster, passing the other Fyrix waiting for approval. Could they smell how nervous I was...? Shit, they probably could... Those nerves could be anything, right?

I wasn't nervous; I was angry, actually! I tried to focus on how angry that admiral had made me. It was only natural to be angry after being unceremoniously kicked off the planet. That was much more rational than nervousness. Let them sense that instead. The armored Fyrix simply stared at me.

"Yeah, Zyrrs." I extended my arm and allowed him to scan it, "For the CC-LONGSPAN."

The Fyrix twisted his fingers through his interface. I wondered if that pistol at his waist worked. Who was I kidding, of course it worked. Most planets would be begging you to stay, trying to make everything as welcoming as possible, but not Luoma. For how much the Fyrix touted their own culture, there was precious little on display here. Only austere walls and armed guards like some kind of interstellar prison.

"Step that way." The Fyrix pointed, which took me by surprise. Either they were accustomed to offworlders, or they'd read the part of my data that included mention of my disease.

I paused, and after another insistent thrust of the arm I stepped into the chamber. It was the standard scanner. I'd stepped into them hundreds of times, but this time was different. This time I had a reason to be afraid. It scanned for all kinds of contraband, pathogens, and biochemical profiles as well as neurological signals.

I tried to keep calm as the machine whirred to life. The great arm spun around. I felt the field pulsing through my body. I could only imagine the data it was churning through---digesting and comparing it all with my previous visit. I didn't need to worry about any foreign objects, but it was the biological sweep that terrified me.

It's okay. The Fyrix shouldn't be as thorough as the others. This one little thing should slip past them. The machine buzzed, and then started spinning the other way. I clenched my hands.

Second sweep...

It wasn't satisfied. This happened sometimes. It didn't necessarily mean anything. I wasn't nervous... I wasn't nervous... The machine clattered and died down. The door didn't open.

"Step back this way."

I felt my blood freeze. I turned around slowly. Shit... Shit... I didn't think their machines would be that advanced. They hadn't look any different from Tirotiro's from the outside, but of course the Fyrix would be obsessed with security!

"What's the problem?" I asked, trying my best to sound innocent. For the first time in years, I truly hated my disease. I wished I knew what emotions I was betraying.

"There's a discrepancy." The Fyrix attendant explained, pulling me aside. I had to watch as others were herded into the machine.

"With what...?" I was fucked.

"Neurological sweep." They explained, sitting me into a chair, "There's several flags with your baseline mental state."

"That's it?" I squeaked.

No, don't act relieved. You're still angry at Nestiri. You're livid that you've been sacked off the most interesting project of your entire life...! His antennae twitched. Oh shit, maybe I was giving off too much. What did I say, 'That's it'? I might as well have told them there was something else!

"Yes..." The Fyrix explained tersely and turned to his interface. They seemed impatient, as impatient as an unreadable suit of armor could seem, "Have you been coerced, compelled, or otherwise compromised since your last appearance?"

"No."

"Do you suspect you may have been subjected to mnemonic hijacking or any other nonconsensual psychological alterations?"

"No."

"Are you currently experiencing hallucinations, fragmentation, or episodes of self-agnosia...?"

"No!"

"Are you harboring unorthodox sentiments corrosive to Fyrixian order and hierarchical communal harmony?"

"Yes, but I declared those when I was coming in!" I rose out of my seat, feeling more confident, "Look, I was brought here to assist with something very top secret. It's right there in my file. I'm sorry that seeing what I've seen has messed with my head, but if you're looking for the specific reason you'll need to take that up with Admiral Nestiri!"

The Fyrix stared at me. I dropped back into my seat, preening my antennae irritably. They just kept staring at me.

"Your emanations are repulsive and bizarre."

"That's..." I paused, "Khyllar's disease. I can't control it. It should also be in my file..."

"Yes." They declared, and turned off the interface, "No doubt you are eager to get off the planet." They pointed. "Go on through."

"Finally..." I grumbled even as my stomach did somersaults. I walked a little fast, as if they would change their mind if I lingered. I passed through the machine and marveled at how much relief a single step could give. I felt at my palp despite myself.

I really wasn't cut out for espionage. With this much stress swirling around my circulatory system I was already dreading the next time I had to purge nanthe. It was difficult to believe that in my mouth was an entire rod's worth of data. The scanner would've caught any contraband, but this wasn't contraband anymore, it was just my biology now.

It was dirty and reckless, but I'd used a viral vector to slip the modifications in. It was simple. Just a stripped-down shell carrying the sequences I needed. The virus rewrote the genetic code in my salivary glands, enough that the cells had started to produce the sequences instead of their usual proteins. The result was, I was literally drooling classified information.

It was a trick I'd heard about during my tours researching the native life which just so happened to reside on planets with less than stellar reputations. I never thought I'd end up using it. Of course if the scanner had been capable of doing a comprehensive biological analysis they would've seen the alteration, but I'd put forward a risky bet on the Fyrix's isolation and arrogance. The thing is, I'd won.

I walked through the terminal with a skip in my step, but when I recalled the look in that thing's face, my shoulders sagged. I hope they hadn't killed him. I'd overheard an order while the admiral's whift was escorting me. It seems the howler had escaped, for now, but who knows how long that would last.

"Heading for Tirotiro?" The ship's voice said cheerily, a far cry from the emotionless buzz of the Fyrix.

"Yes. Zyrrs." I extended my arm again. A long probosces of metal telescoped out from the ship's hull. With a flash and a chirp, it was satisfied.

"Welcome back, Doctor Zyrrs!" The door of the vessel slid open invitingly, "I've already loaded your luggage. We will be departing in a quarter-phase!"

"Thank you." I said, and stepped inside, feeling at my palp, "Seeing as I'm the only passenger... would it be possible to speed this up? I'm very eager to return home."

"Very well!" The voice said from everywhere, "I will request immediate clearance! In the meantime, feel free to relax! It appears you are experiencing elevated levels of stress. We'll be passing through a beautiful nebula if you'd like to seat yourself in the observation deck."

"You don't know the half of it..."

Chapter Text

'Applicant - Nithry'
'Time - 3rd Brightphase'
'Location - The Center for Affective Constructs'
'Observant - The Great and Honored Vaeren'

I stared at my interface like a mnuenid stares at taperpoid, the letters on the display seeming to reach into me. Strange, it is, that mere symbols bereft of any chemical identifiers could affect me so. Not even symbols---simple photons shot forth in patterns from the stimulation of an electromagnetic field. The longer I stared, the more they seemed to warp and play as if taking on a life of their own.

I sucked on the stem of a silverleaf bloom. The words intend nothing, but it is what they become within the passages of my mind that fills me with such unease. It is my mind which gives them life. It follows that I should instead master them, and yet I am helpless to quell that which they invoke.

But was it I who had truly given them life...? Or was it the mind that had spawned them. I stood here, wrestling with the ghost of a viraathi a hundred spans away. Such power he held that his discarnate apparition could inspire my own mind to torment me. It never ended, this tireless vying for dominance. But one day, for certain, it would be my ghost that haunted the minds of others.

A roller came down the street. I sucked the last hisk from the bloom and tossed it into the drainage. I forced an emanation towards the rider and they stopped. The ghost that tormented me now was the same one that had stolen my sleep, and if logic follows, forced me to wake up disastrously late. I'd missed the lift.

"Greetings, compeer." I emanated [Fen]. He did the same and I was irritated to find him of greater viraas.

"Greetings to you as well." He replied, sending out a mingling scent of curiosity, but assurance of well-wishing.

"I was wondering if I could trouble you to take me to The Center for Affective Constructs in Nelexy?" I measured my emanations and was pleased when he was forced to elevate his in response.

"That would require a significant deviation from my plans." He said, but emanated [krick] regardless. I raised my arms and spread my flanges. He twisted his head, brushing his antennae near my chest. The shift in his emanations irritated me.

"I'm afraid that it is quite the distance."

Request---no, DEMANDING reconsideration, "I am a nascent emanist. It will bring you much prominence to acquire my viraas before my own rise to prominence. That is the very reason I must make it to the center before the 3rd phase!"

Polite disinterest, "The chitin on my back is coming up. The longer I'm delayed on my way to the parlor the more it will crack."

Questioning his importance; his assurance of importance, "This is most vitally important! I am to be meeting with a viraathi, and it would be most disgraceful for them if their time was wasted."

"Viraathi?"

"Vaeren."

"Vaeren!" He said happily, "Perhaps... I sensed some of Siryd's viraas. I will bring you there if you are willing to part with that."

It felt like I'd been struck, "Yes, it is Siryd's... I'd acquired it after helping her as an emanist, which is why I assure you that my viraas is more than sufficient." I tried to retain my composure, but to think that he would want her second-hand viraas over mine!

Apologetic refusal, "You are trying the next culture cycle, correct...? It is possible you will be chosen, but it would make me look foolish among my compeers to be left filled with your viraas should you fail. I wish to be prudent."

Accusation of unbecoming greed; his assertion of rationality. I held back my anguished outburst. I hesitated, but one look at the time forced my hand. I stuck my teasing finger into my flanges and scraped out the oily substance, feeling the immediate loss as I deposited it into his.

Gone was the most prominent viraas I possessed. I'd hoped to use it to bolster myself during the evaluation, but now I'd become even more hollow.

The journey on the roller was the closest I'd come to relaxing the whole morning. I'd have preferred a skimmer, but we made good pace. The vyrek dropped me off in front of the building, wished me well, and then headed off. Presumably to get his chitin scraped.

I checked the time and started to walk at an unbecoming pace. The Center for Affective Constructs was an impressive tangle of architectonic acumen, bending in ways just hideous enough to warrant contemplation. I jumped as someone's djeni accosted my legs. They yanked on its leash and the irritating beast reared on its six limbs before lumbering after its owner. I sent an angry emanation after them and walked on.

I moved with measured grace and stepped inside. The ceiling loomed above, filtering in reddish light as it bounced off the leaves and fronds growing up there. Such an open space made me want to crawl into a shady nook. I wondered if that was intentional.

Rowed to my left were busts of this cycle's emanists, their works listed below on holoprint. They would be replaced in the coming year and my own visage would be among them. Most species in the Sovereign Assembler let their culture stagnate, but not the Fyrix.

Every twenty-five rotations around the sun there was a nigh comprehensive purge of all affective works. Occasionally there would be a work considered `perfect' that would be raised to the hall of immortal works by the Council of Culture, but such events were exceedingly rare. Still, there wasn't one emanist who didn't dream of it. Perhaps my own work had the potential...?

No, no... I shouldn't get ahead of myself.

It was something the other sovereignties couldn't seem to understand. Things were meant to be appreciated and then consumed. The works of the Fyrix were like the blooms of a flower. It opens it petals to drink the sun and then it wilts and dies. But it does not really die. It seeds new life and the cycle begins anew.

You could preserve the bloom; fill its delicate veins with plastics and resin, but it would never be as vital as it was in life. It's empty, all the life gone and the ghosts departed into oblivion. The 'other' is missing, leaving only the 'self.' What a sad, solipsistic crash space.

I made my way down the halls, suffering. My insides congealed at the anguished emanations that haunted the way towards Vaeren's station. More spirits. More ghosts.

Unfortunately our works couldn't be totally destroyed. Some species had an aching obsession with the past and seemed to take the Fyrix philosophy personally. The Quen'Quwon in particular made it their personal mission to archive everything there was to archive. Every cycle they'd come sneaking in, trying their hardest to exfiltrate whatever they could.

Fortunately we were adept at catching such data thieves, but every cycle ended with an irritatingly complete catalogue on the QQ's domains. I'm not sure why they even bothered. The true depth and breadth of Fyrixian works was lost on outworlders. Though, it was only natural they would crave even a hollow shell of the Fyrix culture.

In theory a Fyrix could access the works of ages past, but even if there were such an unscrupulous Fyrix, they'd end up covered head-to-tarsi in nanthe the moment they were discovered. Instead they relied on emanists such as myself to sate their thirst for affective experience.

I paused outside the foreboding portal with its vine-hugged trellis. I checked my interface. I flicked my antennae, waiting, waiting... now...!

I stepped inside at the most precise moment, cloaking myself in emanations of gratitude, humility and confidence---but in oh so measured amounts! Vaeren sat atop a heap, wreathed in blooms as he dragged his delicate finger through the interfaces which haloed his black head. There was no perturbation in his focus when his querying emanation hit me.

"Nithry, Honored One." I responded, standing my ground as best I could. His prominence was dizzying.

The diaphanous strands of his livery dangled from the arms and the waist, dragging through the grotto beneath his perch. Three whifts kneeled in the murky water, scrubbing and drying the cloth each time it was soiled anew.

"Nithry..." His teasing finger raked through an interface which spun and glowed,, "Here we are... 'The Breath of Time Stinks Like Rust'?"

"Yes."

"I've looked it over. It's evident you've put a lot of effort into this. What's less clear is why."

I felt something shatter. Just like that...? I was destroyed as a matter of routine. Discarded. I wanted to cloud the room with my despair, but that would ruin me even further. He couldn't have consumed it. It was better than any of my competitors, I know it was! He couldn't have consumed it!

"The central metaphor---the orbiting maintenance drone, yes...? You invoked it thirteen times, but I couldn't tell you what it signifies, only that you seemed deeply convinced I should. Indeed, it drifts; both figuratively and literally."

He'd consumed it... But that one was obvious, wasn't it...? "It represents the instinct to continue long after reason has departed. It's about persistence mistaken for purpose and questions the biological imperative..."

"Oh, was that your intention?" He seemed more focused on his whifts than me, dangling his sleeves in front of them, "It didn't come across. When it finally powers down and it's 'embraced by a warm glow of rust'? It sounds more like you are venerating decay instead."

I couldn't think, "It..."

"The entire work is stained with this persistent self awareness, like you're terrified of being misunderstood. I assure you, I understood what there was to understand, but it makes the parts which defy understanding all the more questionable."

"I..."

"The main character was compelling, I'll admit. The way he still yearns for legacy even as his colony decays around him is admirable, but that is because it is so clearly Kor from 'Soul of Our Own.' It's obvious you've been influenced by Zuath, but Zuath is publishing this cycle, so we've no room for something so derivative. The plot itself is highly reminiscent of 'Falling Like Lead,' but that was from five cycles past, so it's no fault of your own."

"He's not..."

"Your use of desaturated emanation in the mourning sequence after the destruction of the satellite's computer was, I assume, meant to invoke numbness, but unfortunately numbness is not a compelling state to be in for three chapters. It was obvious you were aiming outside of your means, and that only makes it all the more uncomfortable to witness."

"I... I can change it..."

"Hm...?" He asked, as if only hearing me then, "No, no... I won't accept this in any form. It's a valiant attempt, but valor is not a suitable substitute for vision! This is only your third cycle, yes...? You're young yet. Zuath spent forty-seven years amongst the otherworlders. It professes arrogance on your part to emulate her with only a fraction of her experience."

"I didn't...!"

"If you're serious about this, you should leave Luoma." He finally faced me, "Not forever, mind you. Just long enough to endure something worthwhile. There's a rotation open at the outpost on Trennek's Verge. Horrid place. It's inhabited by more than a dozen races. Pure cultural bleed. It's revolting. Utterly intolerable, but that's the point. You'll find no sharper a chisel for your ego than proximity to things so grotesquely earnest. Their attempts at culture are infantile, but if you observe them, you may come back with something real. Find something worth expressing and come try again next cycle."

He turned his attention to another interface, the emanation hitting me a moment later. He was finished. He was ordering me out. It felt impossible to move, but such an emanation left no room for disobedience. Even so...!

"Honored One...!" I forced out, "If that one wasn't to your liking, may I submit another work for this cycle...?"

Vaeren paused, making no attempt to hide his annoyance as his sleeve dragged through the grotto again, "Oh, I suppose." He said and turned back to his interfaces.

Then I was hit with another emanation, one that warned me I was bordering on social suicide. I gave my parting scents with grace and walked outside. When I was far enough away so that my emanations wouldn't reach room, I collapsed against the wall.

What was that...?

He was viraathi. He was head of all affective works. Why hadn't he seen it...? It was an excellent work. It was, wasn't it...? I'd consumed every work this cycle. It'd left me no time to secure viraas, but I knew mine was better than all the others! It was a wonderful work. It was about endurance. It was about defiance. The refusal to fade cleanly, to fight back against the cruel nothingness which had carelessly spawned our suffering even when there were no more to witness it. It was wonderful! It wasn't self-indulgent at all!

I realized my dismal scent was mingling with countless others. I felt like I was falling out of place, out of time. I sensed someone as they passed. I'd shown something unbecoming. I staggered away. It felt like the building had efflugated me out onto the street. The light hurt my eyes.

Zuath... How could he mistake my wonderful style for hers... That had cracked deeper than anything else. I despised that one... Always doing reduxes of her own works. She knew she'd only made one work worth consuming, and so she kept using it over and over. It was only perverse curiosity which brought the consumers back, only to see what's changed from the previous version. Meanwhile I'd made something new and meaningful!

I sat down in a garden, staring at nothing. I didn't want to go off-world. I didn't want to wait another cycle. I'd already missed two. This time I'd managed to secure an appearance. That was better than my previous attempts, but it was small solace. It felt like I'd labored my whole life to earn the privilege of having my heart ripped from my abdomen.

It'd taken me seven years to create that one...! There was no way I could make another of similar quality in only one... I sensed others passing by. Their soft disdain curled in the outside air. It was unbecoming to sit in such a public space smelling as I did. I felt at my middle, feeling the hollowness as a physical thing. I didn't have enough viraas left for another cycle.

I didn't want to become a whift again...

I pulled up my interface, desperate for any distraction. I told myself I was gathering inspiration for my new work, but really I just wanted to find someone more miserable than me. I skimmed through an open board, scrolling through the daily gossip and banal discussions before landing on a strange recording.

I played it, and was confronted with an enormous pale beast rampaging around downtown Turmakile. I snapped a nearby bloom off its stem and began sucking on it. The thing leapt off a building and crashed into the pavement, looking around before sprinting off with incredible speed. There was a strange, guttural sound, which I supposed was supposed to be coming from the monster...?

Its eyes were piercing and terrifying as Fyrix fled from its path. The central street turned into absolute chaos as rollers swerved away from the monster. One stopped in front of it. The beast growled and flipped the whole thing onto its back, letting out a deafening series of barks as the occupant desperately fled.

The perspective of the recording changed to capture a swarm of enforcer drones coming in before turning back to the creature, which appeared to be looking at them too. It ran some more, and for some reason the person recording followed it until it stopped and stared into the drainage ditch. The massive thing paused for a moment, and then jumped in. The video ended shortly after it was swallowed by the drain.

What was this...?

I wasn't in the mood, 'Pathetic tryout gimmick. At least choose something believable if you're going to waste everyone's time.' I replied.

Just some emanist even worse than me hoping to drum up some cheap publicity. An uninspired monster story for their assessment? It was almost admirable, running with the tired old 'enormous terrifying monster' shtick. Those haven't been popular for at least five hundred years. I would've added more teeth though. Its blood-green eyes were terrifying, sure, but you needed something more visibly dangerous.

I sucked down the last of the hisk and went to check the other comments, only to find the video had been deleted. I felt a flush of pride. I suppose they didn't expect to get called out so quickly. It was a fleeting feeling, but at least I'd forgotten how miserable I was for a time.

I walked over to the drainage ditch and tossed the empty bloom in. I couldn't help but find solace in the thing, so cruelly discarded into oblivion. I watched it disappear into the black before heading home.

I supposed it would be possible for a creature to hide out in the drainage systems. But if it were me, I wouldn't use anything so insipid as a monster. Maybe a banished threll attempting to bring ruin to their one-time saratan...

Chapter Text

The field was dark. The moon was dark. A wide circle of blinding light cut through the black and illuminated the divot in the ground. It was an ordinary overflow outlet set in the middle of a remote leeching field. Grends chirped in the background. In ordinary circumstances it would be empty, save for the diminutive insects deemed beneficial by the authority, but tonight I was peering out the helmet of a whift.

There was silence. The occasional glance to their partner. The occasional glance to their weapon and their feet.

"What nonsense, right?" Asked the whift. Their partner's emanation wasn't included in the recording, but it was most likely assent, "I should be at home finishing my model. Instead I'm out here standing in a field."

"That attitude is probably why you got assigned out here inside of one of the outflows in the city." Remarked the other.

"What's that say about you, then?"

I presumed amusement on his part, "You get the briefing?"

"No, I was on duty in Klentar and the next thing I know I'm out here. Some kind of animal escaped from a lab and ran into the sewage system. Is it like, some kind of aquatic creature?"

"No, it's this really tall pale creature. The Honorable Admiral Nestiri seized it from some kind of exotic smuggling ship and was bringing to the central authority's menagerie, but it escaped."

I paused. I made a mental note to find out who had been in charge of briefing these two. If these had been my whifts, I think I'd run out of nanthe. Resume.

The first whift turned to regard the empty field and weighed their gun, "So we're supposed to shoot it?"

"Yeah. We're supposed to shoot it."

The conversation died there bit. I considered skipping ahead, but then the second one spoke up again, "...What kind of model is it?"

"It's a model of Kor atop the Tower of Lies."

"You're into Soul of Our Own?"

"I've been trying to go through all my affectives since the wipe is coming up. It's my favorite." He declared and I once again considered skipping ahead.

"It was better in the last wipe. I didn't like how Zuath handled the savage planet this time around. It undermines his entire character to spare the sphereists. The best version was actually three wipes back though. That Kor would make this wipe's Kor seem a manumit."

"Three wipes ago...?" The first turned and I saw the black helmet of his partner stark in my view, "You're nearly a hundred years old and you're still a whift?"

"Hundred and twenty, actually. Aratrost."

I presumed an emanation of blunt surprise and then curiosity, because after the silence and subtle sloshing of water the second one started expanding upon it.

"There was a female I was interested in. I had an enjoyable first festering with her, but when I attempted to push her into the second festering and eventual spawning she said she wasn't interested. It fell apart after that, but a few years later I learn that she's entered second festering with another vyrek."

I realized I was pricking an antennae despite myself. Even so, they weren't even looking at the grate anymore. Did they not understand the seriousness of this assignment? Was I the only person who understood how dangerous this thing was?

"That really angered me, you know...? To make a long story short, I replaced his spermataphore with mine and forced her to bear my spawn."

They didn't bleed him for that?

"...I'm surprised they didn't bleed you for that."

Yeah!

"Well, she took pity on me. The male was incorrigible, however. My old name was Narnak, but they said they'd reserve it for me. As soon as I'm back to vyrek I'll pay him a friendly visit." He said, "I don't regret it though. My little ones just finished their last molt just this season."

Wait.

"What's it like?"

There was a wrinkle in the black.

"The Aratrost? It's terrible. First they---"

His voice was cut, his face disappearing from the view. The owner of the helmet looked up and stumbled back. The view shook, but the silhouette was unmistakable. His legs kicked uselessly as he clung to his gun. The howler towered over him, lifting him effortlessly by the weapon. He didn't let go. I leaned in. He didn't let go, but the Howler lifted him higher, and snapped it down. There was the crack of chitin as he collapsed to the ground with a piercing scream. The howler looked at the weapon and at the two arms which dangled from it with a vacant curiosity.

The owner of the helmet fell backwards.

Stop staring at it! Lift your weapon you worthless whift! Kill it! Kill it already! I gripped my interface and felt it bend beneath my fingers. The view was locked on the towering bulk, the spotlight cutting its shape from the black backdrop of the night. It stared, and then babbled.

The whift scrambled back. I saw the tip of the gun finally rise, but it was too late. The howler lurched forward, grabbing it and directing the shots into the night sky. It ripped the weapon from his hands, but he hadn't the courage of the other whift. His arms didn't come with it.

The recording didn't stop. The howler pounced and the whift screamed. The helmet thrashed. Images of the howler's shoulder, chest, and face streaked in and out of view. He kept screaming and screaming, and screaming, those eyes and teeth flickering across the shuddering image. It went on and on. I felt cold and ill. The helmet was snatched, tossed away, rolling to point at the black sky, but the sounds came through. They were distant now, but no less chilling.

It was prolonging it. It was enjoying it. Enjoying torturing him. It was an eternity before the screams died down, only for the other whift's pained shrieks to join in. I almost closed it, only for the helmet to move. It was lifted impossibly high and turned. I reached for my weapon instinctively, forcing down the surge of panic. It rolled the helmet in its hands then tapped the lens, sending a deafening boom into my antennae. It babbled idly and then the view streaked, dying with a clipped crack.

I sat back and let the interface fall to my lap. "Is that everything?" I asked my 26th whift standing dutifully in the corner.

"Yes, my Saratan. We've also been monitoring some posts online that seem to indicate that there's been sightings in the area, but it's dark and difficult to say for certain."

Normally I wouldn't show exhaustion in front of a whift, but I couldn't help myself, "The first fatality in years and it's because of that monster... Perhaps now Iiath will finally take this seriously, but what a price to pay."

"They're maimed, but alive, my Saratan. Though the one with the helmet was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown."

"Oh...? Good for them."

It seemed Fyrix weren't to its tastes. I'm not sure how I should feel about that. It's lucky it's only been injuries, but it was only a matter of time something worse than an arm was ripped off.

"The roller was ransacked and their weapons and armor were nowhere on scene. It's likely they were taken."

"Yes, it's shown that tendency..." I said thoughtfully, "It might not be intelligent, but it has an instinct for these things. It's good the enforcer's weapons are biolocked. At least there won't be a repeat of last time."

I paused for a moment.

"...It stole their body armor?"

"Yes, my Saratan."

That must've been horrifying. I couldn't imagine being on my back as that monster bared down and tried to peel off all my armor. I felt some pity for the whift, but not enough to offset my disappointment If he'd raised his weapon this all would've been over.

Again, I felt myself expressing exhaustion, "I trust you've sent some of your compeers to the area?"

"Yes, but it seems to be hiding it's tracks. We've got drones out, but it's difficult to avoid drawing the attention of the populace."

I wish I could've been there. Instead I was stuck in Central Command, waiting in the lavish antechamber to the Tall Hall. The thought that that thing was out skulking in the night was mortifying, but it would be even worse if there was a panic. It was only a matter of time. It'd gotten extraordinarily lucky, but it was just one beast. It was only a matter of time.

The whift fingered his antennae, pushing the communicator flush against the sensitive surface. Someone of my caliber could determine the subject based purely upon the subtle emanations, but even a manumit could tell that something had happened.

"Explain." I demanded.

"Another enforcer squad was hit, my Saratan."

* * *

    
EXT - NIGHT - SOMEWHERE ? ? ?

        RYEN
    It isn't working.

        KAEL
    Maybe there's a safety on it?

THE SHAPER turns the weapon in his hands. He examines it for any odd levers, 
buttons, or switches. The surface is strange. It is unfamiliar. He runs his 
hands along its many ridges, but none seen to give and the trigger refuses to 
budge. 

        THE SHAPER
    It must be something else. We'll figure it out later.

THE SHAPER loops it into the sash hanging across his chest. He crouches over one 
of the fallen chitokyns. The armor is tight, difficult to remove. He feels a 
small ridge. It's almost imperceptible, built into the armor. A probing 
fingernail pops it out. It extends, glinting cobalt blue in the spotlight over 
the battlefield.

        CORDYLL
    A blade...

        KAEL
    A short one at that.

It feels light. THE SHAPER stares at the edge. He slices at the chitokyn's
armor. The blade slices through. It goes deeper than intended. The thing lets 
out a high-pitched noise and squirms.

        THE SHAPER
    It's sharp. Very sharp...
      (Turns it over)
    Blue like the moon...

        CORAX
    Moondrinker.

THE SHAPER stands, surveying the battlefield. Three chitokyns on the ground.  
The grass is red. The night is dark. Strange smells. Strange everything. It is 
humid. Hot. He scratches at the sweat on his back and the radiant heat on his 
chest feeling the thick hair. It tangles. It's filled with scum. Just solid 
filth. Why is such a thing attached to such a divine being...?

THE SHAPER grabs at the mass. He lifts MOONDRINKER and slices through. His head 
feels light. Keep going. He kneels, lets the filth spill over. He slices, feels 
it rain down. It feels good. The wind blows bumps into the skin of his back. It 
feels good. 

        NYRIA
      (pointing)
    That one's moving.

It's a quick bound. CORDYLL pushes it down and THE SHAPER starts to work at its 
armor, cutting at the clasps with MOONDRINKER.

        RYEN
    That'll sure speed things up, eh?

The thing keeps moving. It's difficult to work.

        THALRIC
    Must we do this?

        THE SHAPER
    You of all people should understand that a knight is nothing without his 
    armor, Thalric. It is necessary if we are to destroy the defiler.

It keeps struggling.

        KAEL
    This would go faster if you did away with it. We're being pursued, you know?  
    Do we really have time to play around with them?

THE SHAPER pauses.

        THE SHAPER
    It's difficult... When they scream... The darklings didn't scream. 

        KAEL
    The Defiler is manipulating you. These things are agents of his evil.  
    Leaving them alive will only hinder us.

RYEN stands between THE SHAPER and KAEL

        RYEN
    You're starting to sound like Khorrin, rest his soul. I know these are 
    desperate times, but abandoning our oath is worse than death!

        THALRIC
    Well said...
      (clapping RYEN on the shoulder)
    No blade shall be drawn but in the service of what's right. No one here has 
    forgotten, but is destroying evil not right?

There's a silence among the WARDENS OF LIGHT

        KAEL
    Let us put it to a vote, then.
      (Raising his arm)
    Yea.

RYEN and NYRIA fold their arms. CORAX and CORDYLL raise theirs. THALRIC pauses, 
and then folds his arms.

        THALRIC
    Nay.

The others look at THALRIC, surprised.

        CORDYLL
    Really, brother?

        THALRIC
    There is no honor in slaying a defeated foe. You know that. Let them come 
    back. We'll simply take them down again.

THE SHAPER stares at MOONDRINKER. The chitokyn still struggles and whines 
between his knees.

        THE SHAPER
    Three to three... I suppose it's down to me...

The insectoid face is inhuman. It's repulsive. Its domed eyes look everywhere.  
Its mouth moves in parts. THE SHAPER stares for a long time. The way it paws at 
the air is sad; almost childish. THE SHAPER thrusts MOONDRINKER into the last 
clasp and peels the armor off its body before adding it to his collection.

KAEL freezes and then looks around.

        KAEL
    I sense something... We should move.

THE SHAPER springs up, dashing out of the spotlight and into the bushes. In the 
cover of night, the sweeping beams of light are stark across the blackness.

        THE SHAPER
    Sharp senses as always, Kael.

THE SHAPER adjusts the heavy stack of mismatched body armor and slinks towards 
the mouth of the sewer. He drops them in with a heavy splash and then slithers 
inside, back to the terrible tightness and stale oxygen.

* * *

"This is why you should've left it to me, Iiath!" I buzzed into my communicator. It's a good thing there were no synthesis modules attached to this call because if he could smell how truly profound my disdain was it would've sparked a feud.

"I'll remind you that while you were 'keeping the peace' amongst the Fyrix, I've been protecting the Fyrix from all the other felonious races that fester in this sector. The worst Fyrix is a paragon compared to the Flaeg or the Kren. You've made a grave error ignoring my expertise."

"I wasn't the one who brought it here, Nestiri."

"This pitiful misdirection only proves you've accepted the truth of the matter already, Iiath." I added, quite haughtily, "That is besides the point, and something that can be argued at a later date---"

I quirked an antennae as a Fyrix appeared outside the door. I signaled for them to stop and spoke quickly,

"I'm tied up at Central Command. I'm sending two of my best whifts on my behalf. It would be the best for everyone if you allowed them to assume command."

There was silence.

"Cede my authority to your whifts...?! Nestiri, you loathesome schemer... I've half a mind to believe you've set this wretched thing upon to me rob me of my prominence."

"Any loss of viraas will be compensated." I said, and flicked my antennae at the person outside the door to stave off their increasing impatience, "I've got more important things to take care of right now. I trust you'll do the wise thing."

With that I disconnected the line and stood up. The manumit came in, their delicate emanations of respect and honor floating in after them.

"The Most Revered One has time for you now."

Finally. I tried to keep my annoyance under control and thanked her with [Yel]. It's been some time since I'd had to visit the Apex. Most Fyrix would cry out in paroxysms of ecstasy at the privilege to merely walk these halls. Even for a viraathi it could be daunting, but I didn't have time to gawk and grovel.

I turned the corner and passed under the arch to the Tall Hall. I felt my feet lift as the AG-Field hoisted me into the air and sent me forward. It was an utterly sumptuous use of the technology, but it saved me the effort of walking. The hall widened, opening to a vast space that was awe-inspiring no matter how many times you saw it.

The Tall Hall was lined with colossal tapestries woven from the same fibers that protected the subspace drives of starships. The cost was worth the reactions of the ambassadors alone. The whole planet could be annihilated by antimatter and still they would remain.

Each one hung heavy with the history of the Fyrix. They progressed from our protozoic predecessors to the wild tribes hiding in our primordial jungles, until finally our ascension to the stars and beyond. They were so large it was easy to examine each one in detail even as the antigravity propelled me forward as fast as a skimmer.

The ceiling disappeared into a darkness that not even the spotlights below could banish. Tiny specks could be seen in the distance, the bodies of whifts floating high in the hall cleaning the tapestries. The material didn't require it, but it was a matter of pride, and of prominence-building for the whifts.

I found myself reading them only half-heartedly as I drifted ahead. The last attack was much like the first: whifts indulging in frivolous activity before being suddenly taken by surprise. This time it was with a branch the howler had found from somewhere. It was terrifying how dangerous such a simple thing could become when wielded with such strength.

It had stolen more things and maimed more whifts before fleeing back into its disgusting hovel. There was one strange thing it left behind. It left a pile of fibers which I immediately recognized as its matted hairs. As to the purpose I could only guess.

Its goal was inscrutable to me. It likely didn't even have one. It was simply programmed to cause chaos. Obviously it knew enough, or was rather /programmed/ with enough knowledge of warfare to use weapons and armor, but I could not understand why it left the whifts alive.

An image from the Intelligence War passed by, of great Drav stranded as bait, his final failed transmission begging the fleet to leave him even as they were currently warping in. It hit me then.

That was it...

An injured soldier was more of a burden than a deceased one. It drained more resources and necessitated costly rescue efforts. Of course, it was only one creature. We has the resources to eat such costs, but the howler was designed. It was acting out its programming. One was one thing, but what of thousands...

Millions...?

Suddenly the howler's rampage seemed a paltry thing, and as the great gate approached I clenched my hands with conviction. I would find out who was behind this, and I would make them pay a thousandfold for every drop of Fyrix blood.

I drifted onto my feet and stepped into the Apex. Compared to the Tall Hall, the Apex was more intimate and imposing. It was as if to say, 'you've seen our history, and now see the culmination of it.'

The scent of the Apex was strong and humbling, even for someone such as myself. I'd long held ambitions to the position. What Fyrix hadn't...? Even so, being here again, it was a stark reminder of how far I had left to climb. I cloaked myself in the steady scents of respect and approached.

"Most Honored Zharr..." I said, secreting viraas and gathering it with my teasing finger.

"Nestiri." The Apex, Zharr, said, "How nice to see you." He drifted somewhere above. I darned not crane to look. He floated down, falling gracefully before me in his flowing white livery. He was holding something. An affective.

"I was finishing up this piece by Zuath. It's really quite interesting..." His attention seemed to drift back to it. What delicate emanations, what force he commanded behind his words. Even such a banal topic was awe inspiring.

Zharr paused as if in recollection and then took my viraas, depositing it within his thoracic flanges. They bulged with prominence, something I'd never seen in another living Fyrix.

"So, what's on your mind?"

I hesitated, "Zharr, I'm afraid that we must assemble an Inquisition of the Mandate. Immediately."

"...Seriously?"

Chapter Text

"Welcome home, and have a wonderful time, Doctor Zyrrs!" The ship chirped as the boarding doors opened out to the dock.

I stepped out, holding my face, my luggage hovering not far behind me. I thanked the ship out of habit and approached the mover at the far end. I saw the stacked bays beyond the glass and the precipitous height at which I stood. This was only halfway up the structure. Dozens of ships buzzed in and out of their cells, each one as big as the ship I'd just disembarked, each little more than specks in the distance.

The transport tube pulled me down. Tirotiro wasn't the largest hub planet, but it wasn't the smallest by any means. I should've felt more relief at coming home, but right now I was feeling anything but. The moment the tube sank into solid wall I yanked my kit down and let it fall.

I felt my heart pounding as I scrabbled through my things. There weren't any cameras in these tubes. It was unlikely that anything interesting would happen in the trip between here and there, but that's exactly what I was planning to exploit. I really should've organized this better.

As I grabbed my scanner, I thought about just how much unscrupulous knowledge I possessed. It's not like I could help it. There's just a perverse fascination to learning the limits of the rules. The only difference between me and anyone else was how frequently my field work brought me to places with less than stellar reputations. It was purely incidental that I learned some things here and there, but never did I think I'd actually use any of it.

I swabbed my saliva and inserted it into the decoder. I'd already set up the necessary algorithms beforehand and so it was only a matter of moments. The data rod popped out of its slot. I grabbed it and quirked my palps. Fifty years of incarceration between my fingertips.

I tucked it away and grabbed my laser projector. Normally I'd use it for microsurgical dissections, but today was a little different. My hands shook. If I'd had more time I would coded in some kind of termination gene, or chemical weakness, but this was all I had. If only the scanners on Tirotiro were as poor as the ones on Luoma.

Come on, Zyrrs...

This is going to hurt a whole lot less than getting caught...

The pain exploded into my head. Nerves screamed and muscles clenched. It was like biting the sun. My palps locked against the agony as the beam scorched through flesh. I could smell the sickening scent of burning Fyrix through my greatly obtunded senses. My hands shook with the effort as I struggled to keep the beam steady.

Burn it out...

The taste of blood replaced the taste of agony, and then silence. I doubled over, dropping the laser to the ground. Little flecks of flash-dried blood and skin drifted to the floor. I wiped my mouth, feeling the pinpoint pain dilute across the whole left side of my face.

Well...

It wasn't as bad as the time I lost an arm to a Slynx, but it was definitely up there on the (unfortunately) long list of things I never wanted to experience again. I used some medigel on my burns and tried to collect myself. The tube opened and my luggage drifted into the air. I went back to holding my face, but this time I wasn't pretending.

I fell in beside all the other creatures of different shapes and sizes as we filed into the scanners. My luggage went in before me. It was quick. The arm swept around me as it had thousands of times before. I remained calm when it chimed and directed me into one of the booths. It was routine.

I sat inside. An interface appeared, displaying all the discrepancies and oddities. My baseline mental state, my level of stress, the unregistered data which bore the Fyrix key signature, as well as the burns on my face.

Classified, Classified, Classified, Laboratory Accident. Contact Fyrix command if nature of discrepancy must be obtained. I sent the form and the machine hung, spinning its chevrons as I tried to suppress my stress. How did smugglers do this for a living...?

It kept spinning. It was *actually* contacting the Fyrix, wasn't it? I hadn't expected that. I massaged my face out of nerves and waited. It chimed, and then the door opened. I stopped myself from sagging in relief. That had all been legitimately classified information, so it wasn't a surprise they didn't catch the one thing out of place. I didn't enjoy having that on file, but it would be fine as long as I disposed of the actual data later.

I stepped into the greater swarm of bustling travelers with a perverse glee spreading through me. It's a good thing there weren't any Fyrix here. They'd know I'd been up to no good. I was a good citizen, and this was a good cause, but still. I didn't expect pulling one over on the Sovereignties to feel this good!

The familiar sights and diminished scents came flooding back to me. It's hard to believe it'd only been about 150 standard spans since I'd taken off. Gone was the clean homogeneity. The buildings were tall and industrial, the walkways filled with various shapes and figures bobbing, skittering, and lurching in their various ways.

I hailed down an autolift and stepped inside, forgetting for a moment to swipe my piece and charge it to my account. In those short six Luoman days I'd become quite accustomed to simply taking things. The concept of currency was repulsive to the Fyrix. To them money, power, and influence were all one and the same. You could take anything so long as it would sufficiently aggrandize its owner.

We swept over the city and all the bright lights that streaked by down below like a second sea of stars. That being said, the Fyrix controlled an alarming amount of chips. They saw it as a lesser form of value used only between the lesser races, but even they couldn't deny its utility completely.

The lower castes were so desperate to raise themselves that they would subject themselves to all kinds of miserable tasks. Because of that it wasn't difficult at all for them to raise funds that any race outside of the major 21 would balk at. Ethics committees had attempted to intervene many times in the past, but they were all rebuffed when the 'abused and neglected workers' they came to help had shouted at them to go warp into the nearest sun.

I checked my account and twisted my palps wryly. The full payment for thirty Luoman days of specialist consulting. You'd sooner solve the origin equation than see that from a Denurian.

I rolled the data rod around in my fingers. I'd been too nervous to leave it with my other things. It was widely hypothesized that the Fyrix could grow to contend with the Arborans and the Klett if only they'd embrace some more open-minded positions on trade and travel. Fortunately for the rest of the universe, they repeatedly refused.

The autolift swooped down and stopped over a rooftop pad. I jumped out and took my things, curling my tarsi in the cool vegetation. I might not be the most exemplary Fryix, but I still loved fresh foliage. The scanner saw me and announced my presence. Moments later the door swung open.

"Zyrr?!" The Vextrid's eyes swirled, her nictitating membrane sweeping across the blue expanse in surprise, "I thought you were still on Luoma!"

"Hey, Chaxa."

I opened my arms. Her actual name was Chaxalonnurith Massaronious Khemler, but there were very few beyond the Vextrids themselves who had the patience. She took my open invitation and bumped the bottom of my chin with her nose. Just something they did.

"What's that you're holding?" She asked.

"Oh, this is..." I waved it around nervously, "It's a little... Hey, you used to do linguistic analysis for the Contact and Survey Office, right?"

Chaxa tilted her head, "Yeah...?"

"You still, ehh... Any good?"

Her blue orbs shifted, eyeing me suspiciously, "Alright, what's this about? Zyrr, you're being really weird."

"Yeah, sorry..." I squeezed the rod with both hands and walked inside, suddenly a little nervous being out in the open like that, "It's just... I need a little bit of a favor."

"Of course!" She shut the door, "Are you okay...? Ohmyheart, Zyrrs! What happened to your mouth?!" She asked, suddenly panicked.

The usual Chaxa. I quirked my palps, feeling a strange comfort in her distress, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. I just had a bit of an... experience back on Luoma."

"How was it?" She asked, wringing all four of her slippery hands as she hovered behind me, "It must've been weird visiting your home planet after so long!"

"It was a lot worse than I remembered, and I don't remember it being particularly pleasant."

She nodded silently. I opened the cooler and took out some bottled hisk nectar. The only thing I missed about Luoma was the near omnipresence of fresh stuff.

"Yeah, it's been... Gosh, how long...?"

"Maybe seventy years. I'd barely finished my final molt before the caretaker sent me off planet because of my disability, so I didn't really get a good look at it, and after my stint at the institute I came down with that stereotypical yearning and decided to explore my roots. Learn more about my heritage and all that... Well, you know the rest."

I upturned the bottle into my palps. It stung my burns, but it filled me with a deep warmth. I thought about all those other species with their varied diets and felt something close to guilt. For all their rituals around meals, if they had hisk they wouldn't even want anything else. Of course, I was biased. My body was uniquely dedicated to metabolizing the stuff. It was quite poisonous, and the nanthe it produced in my ducts was officially classified as a biological hazard.

"I still can't believe they think you've got a 'disability!'" Chaxa said, trying to cheer me up as she often does, "Your sense of smell is better than mine!"

"Well to the Fyrix I might as well be deaf, blind and dumb." I sat down, continuing to play with the data rod, "It is what it is..."

"How did your parents feel about that...?"

"The Fyrix don't really do the whole, 'parental love' thing. They'll have pride, sure, but most of the time they just have offspring in the hopes that they'll go on to raise their own prominence by proxy." I paused, "Mine... Well, they were the ones who arranged for me to be sent off planet, and now I realize that that was their love..."

"I'm sorry Zyrrs..." Chaxa bumped the bottom of my chin again, "Those snooty little jerks wouldn't know a good person if they came and kicked them up their stupid butts! You could descend as a demi-god and solve all conflict and they'd just say, 'pretty good for a non-Fyrix'! You're the best person I know, so... Fuck em!"

Then she seemed to recall something, "P-present company excluded of course...!" she added a nervous little laugh.

I laughed back and squeezed her hand, "Thanks."

"...So, ready to tell me what that's all about?"

"Oh, this?" I held it up, "It's a bunch of data for a bit of secret project that I want you to look at. I need some linguistic help."

"Okay---" She said and snatched it out of my hands. I immediately snatched it back and clutched it to my chest. She tilted her head.

"My machine's already set up, so it'll be easier if we just use mine." I stood and rummaged through my luggage. I couldn't tell her that it's because I'd severed my machine's telemetric connection. Just another one of those things you pick up.

Chaxa watched patiently, but was clearly a little worried, "I thought you only worked with animals. Since when are you interested in linguistics?"

"I've found an... interesting creature, and it might be more intelligent than it first appeared." I slid the rod in and booted it up, "I think it might be using an unregistered language."

"Oh!" Her eyes twisted in excitement, "Like some kind of radix semaphore, or neural impulse emission?"

"No, nothing that complicated. It's..." I pulled up the files, hiding everything else, "It would be faster if you just listened."

Chaxa accepted the computer and tuned the output to her implant. She flinched as the audio started, but after that, leaned in, "Didn't you say this was something you thought *might* be intelligent. This sounds like standard air-resonant communication."

"I told you, it's complicated..." It wasn't strange of me to assume the howler wasn't intelligent, was it? She hadn't seen the thing in action, "The creature in question is very wild and unpredictable. This is what their voice sounded like, but there weren't any indicators of intelligence besides speech."

I chose to keep the following incident to myself. She gripped her face with all four hands as her eyes nictitated in concentration. Even though the sound was going directly into her bones, the sounds of that creature were playing out clearly in my mind.

"...It's a predatory creature, so one hypothesis was that it learned to mimic language as a means to draw out a specific kind of prey." Her eyes swiveled to stare at me and I put up my hands, "It wasn't my theory!"

"Hmm..." She said, and then paused for a long time, "I don't think so. I'm identifying some repeated morphemes..." She paused again, nodding, "Yes, yes... There's different inflections. It's modulating up or down depending on context. It seems consistent. I doubt a creature could do that without also understanding the syntax."

I felt a little stupid. It sounded obvious when she put it like that, and almost instantaneously too, "Do you recognize the language?"

"Oh, Zyrrs, I wish!" She said with an apologetic expression, "I could think of a few it's similar to, but that's no help."

"Can you translate it?"

"This...?" She showed me her hands, "This is just a bunch of sounds...! Without any semantics there's no way I could decode the syntax."

"Please!" I said, leaning in, "This is important."

She leaned back, "Zyrrs, what's this all about...?"

"Okay, wait---" I snatched the computer and loaded up some images, "Does this help? I think it's the written language."

Her eyes roamed over the image, the ruined guts of an interstellar vessel. The waste and desolation, the hanging vines partially obscuring the scrawlings in the walls. I knew they were special. They weren't the idle scratchings of a predator. They were sharp, slanted, and maddeningly awkward, but there was something to them.

"What is..." She said, suddenly a little afraid, "Zyrrs, please. I-I don't know what's going on...!"

"It's important!" I repeated, "Anything! Even a single word would be enough!"

Chaxa stared at me, "O-okay, I'll try...!" She looked at the computer and flicked through the images, "Zyrrs...?" She asked, eyes screwing, "Why are there Fyrix in military uniforms in all these pictures?"

I remained silent and she swallowed, shaking a little bit, "Zyrrs...?!" She stared, "W-Why is there b-blood on the floor...?!"

I looked away, feeling ashamed, but desperate, and then I saw her dive into the data's signature. I felt my heart stop.

"Wait---!"

She threw the computer off her lap and screamed, "WHY DO YOU HAVE STOLEN SOVEREIGN DATA ON YOUR COMPUTER?!"

She leapt up and I dove to catch the computer, "Ohmygosh-ohmygosh---OHMYGOSH, ZYRRS WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Calm down!" I should've expected this, "J-just breathe! I had no other choice, okay? I'll explain everything!"

"I-I'm going to prison!" She paced around hyperventilating, her hands stretching her silky green face, "Ohmybeatingheart!"

"No you're not!" I said seriously, "No one else knows I have this, and even if they did, you wouldn't be the one they'd take! It's going to be okay...!"

She looked at me, confused, hurt, and terrified, "W-what's gotten into you...? Th-this is insane..."

I collected myself and kneeled, grabbing one of her hands with both of mine, "There's this creature... The one making those noises... That's what they called me to Luoma to study. The Fyrix think he's a mindless beast, but he's not... He's intelligent, some kind of uncontacted race that's been exploited and tortured by some sick government, and if we don't do anything, they're going to kill him..."

I looked at her, pouring all of my heart into pleading expressions my physiology was never meant for, "It's my fault too... If I'd only been smarter." I squeezed hard, "But if I can find some way to communicate with it, I might be able to fix this! So please... Chaxa, if there's anything you can do, I'm begging you..."

She stared at me for a long time, two hands over her beating heart which was slightly visible through her semi-translucent flesh.

"Okay..." She said, breathing hard, "It's... It's a lot to take in."

"I know." I quirked my palps apologetically, finally standing up and letting go, "Thank you, Chaxa... I don't know how much time I have, but the sooner I can get any kind of evidence, the better."

"It would help if I knew what it looked like. There's a lot of clues I might be able to tease out if I knew the mechanics of its speech."

Fortunately the computer wasn't damaged, "Okay, but... Promise you won't freak out or anything. It's a little intense."

She shivered and took a fortifying breath, but ultimately nodded. I pulled up one of the pictures and spun the computer towards her. It was a simple capture of the howler sitting with his legs folded beneath him, staring at the camera. One of the rare moments he'd actually seemed aware of his surroundings.

"O-oh my!" Chaxa put only *one* hand to her heart, "It is quite intense!" She looked directly into the howler's eyes, "That's a predatory stare for sure! Oh, and look at how long and thick those arms are! There's no way I'd want to be near one, but with the way you were talking, I was expecting something made entirely of teeth or something...!" She laughed nervously.

"Oh, well it might not be so obvious from that picture..." I leaned over and chose a different file, one of the Fyrix leading him by collar and chain.

"OHMYGOSH!" Two hands to her heart, "It's enormous! I-I-I've never...!" She looked at me, "T-this thing is intelligent...?"

"I'm certain it is."

Chaxa filled her air sacks with another series of measured breaths before answering, "I'll do what I can."

"Thank you, Chaxa..." I bumped the bottom of her chin with my palps, trying to quell the worries in my heart that threatened to consume me.

I hoped he was still alive.

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.

Chapter Text

I leaned into the cabinet and pushed until my legs went diagonal. It groaned across the floor in protest and I had to catch my breath. I didn't have time for this...! I was supposed to be crafting my next affective! I leaned into the cabinet again and felt it give again before finally bumping into the door.

I sagged against it and sat down. It was like the whole universe was against me. How would everyone learn the name of Nithry if I was stuck cowering in the corner of my own hollow! I clung to the cabinet as if it were the only piece of wood bobbing in the vastness of the sea. I had to get back to work...

It was with great reluctance that I willed my legs into motion. I had to work, had to finish my next affective. This was nothing, it's was unlikely that it would affect me...! It was probably overblown anyway.

Yeah...

I paced around, scratching at my antennae. It was my fault for reading the news. I could've been living in blissful ignorance, but I'd just had to give in to my drifting attention. Just one scan of the articles! It might even give me inspiration! Damn it all...

I felt sick. I opened up the cooler and eyed the spiced hisk. I didn't have the influence to sway any more of it, so I'd been saving it for when I got accepted into the program... Maybe it would dull me enough to forget about it all. I stared, my eyes tracing the contour and colors.

No... it would dull my senses too much. I let the lid snap shut and started to pace around again. Maybe I should just go to the emergency shelters like some of the others. The things had been designed to withstand antimatter bombs. I'm sure it could withstand a single rampaging giant.

But all those people... that would be too distracting!

That's why I got this place out by the bleeds in the first place! I glanced at my desk and decided I should make my way over there. If only I'd chosen the place by Vhenem. They didn't need to deal with this...

An alert for the whole Tyrs area! Rampaging giants! Who'd ever heard of such a thing? I'd had to reread the article three times before I'd believed it. Central Authority hadn't given much information, but there was an image they'd run. To think it was that thing I'd seen the other day!

I sat down and stared at my terminal. The unfinished affective stared back at me like a heap of tattered ribbons. I can't believe I'd said that thing wasn't scary enough. It was terrifying! Things were different when it was real. The thought of it out there, stalking, prowling... I felt a shiver run up my back. I looked back at the door and the cabinet in front of it. Would that even be able to stop it?

I sank my fingers into the terminal, but couldn't will them to move. It all looked like waste to me. I barely resisted the urge to delete it all before I stood up and started to pace again. Maybe I should skip ahead and build the scene after the betrayal on the gunner's deck. I was certainly in the mood for it.

My plants were my audience as I walked around in circles, trying desperately to sort out the maddening maelstrom in my heart. I let my hands rake through their delicate fronds and leaves. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. They looked thirsty. I'd get back to writing just as soon as I took care of them.

I grabbed the pitcher and headed for the faucet. Of course it was possible to automate this whole process, hook it up to a system that monitored everything from the humidity down to the concentrations of a certain cobalt isotope with perfect precision down to the molecule, but that wasn't the point. Perhaps one of the lesser races would take that shortcut, but it was about growing yourself as much as the plant. I poised the pitcher beneath the faucet and pressed the interface.

...Nothing.

I pressed it again and flicked an antennae. The pipes gurgled and coughed. I calmly placed my hands on the edge of the basin and barely managed to contain a complete mental breakdown. Maybe a madman's perspective would've helped my art. Alas...

The well head was probably malfunctioning. Another punishment for living far from the city center. I'd need to take care of it myself. I slung my shoulder around with a weary weight, only to freeze a moment later.

Right. The cabinet...

My tarsi dug tracks in the floor as I pushed it out of the way. Finally, I was able to open the door. The natural light made me grip my eyes. I felt suddenly exposed, like I'd been caught stumbling just as the spotlight switched to me. I scanned from left to right across the fields of red as I took in the meager expanse of my estate.

It was sobering, the idea that all this would vanish as soon as my affective was rejected and my prominence retreated. I couldn't decide which was more terrifying, that, or the giant monster that was on the loose. I walked around my outdoor garden and fiddled my antennae. Not even the scent of the amberblooms could lift my mood. I felt the sun radiant on my chitin and had the sudden urge to simply stop and let myself bake.

How did they let this happen...? It must've been some whift's fault. It was unthinkable that central command could fail so catastrophically. I'm sure they would take care of it, but until then...

The canopies cooled my back and the decaying bed of fronds and frills swallowed my feet with each step. The well head stood in the center of a clearing like a thing of legend, a strip of golden light illuminating the mechanism. It almost seemed like a joke.

I inspected the panel. It said, 'maintenance required' and that was it. I looked around and under it, but couldn't see anything obviously wrong. I pushed off the heavy lid and stared into the depths of the release pipe, but found only darkness and the babbling of water below.

A wild wind stirred the trees and I realized this was the perfect place for a predator to ambush its prey. I shivered and tapped at the panel. It chimed, 'unscheduled maintenance request pending' and then displayed a spinning chevron. I didn't know how long it would take for the drone to arrive. I hoped it was soon. Of all the times to break...

I suddenly wanted to be back inside very much. I walked as fast as one could without forsaking their dignity and shut the door behind me. I pushed the cabinet back and sagged to the floor again.

A new story... one where the hero is torn apart not by the shadow, but by the fear of it.

* * *

I shut the apartment door behind me. I checked my tattletale. No strange probing frequencies or fields had passed into the apartment while I was gone. That was good. I let the needle-shaped device hover by the door and looked at Chaxa. She was hunched over the computer, more than usual for a vextrid at least.

"I brought you some food." I placed the container beside her, some kind of soup filled with synthetic meat and exaplanetary spices. It was expensive, but not nearly enough for outweigh what I'd asked of her.

"T-thanks..." She stuck out her tongue and slipped it into the container, sucking it up with capillary action.

"Any luck?"

She shook her head, her attention still firmly on the display. I nodded solemnly and left it at that. I opened the door to my room. It bumped against something and only opened halfway. The inside had transformed quite dramatically. There were so many cables and cords and computers that there was scarcely enough room to even shimmy into my sleeping hollow any more.

I kicked aside a sequencer and set down a subfield amplifier. I searched through the jungle of cables and finally plugged it in. The machine powered on and I sat on top of a data rack to access the terminal. This kind of power draw was certain to draw attention, but that was nothing compared to sending encrypted messages through the foldlines.

The module by my foot would attempt to bypass that every message would look innocuous on the surface. The message could read, 'How are you doing?' on the surface, and hopefully that's all the security offices would read on their sweepers, but to the right recipient with the right key, it would instead read as something far more devious.

Still, it was suspicious. I'd just need to hope no one got caught smuggling, because strange subspace transmissions would be the first thing they'd investigate, even if mine were truly unrelated. The state of my home would be questionable enough.

The machine whirred and whined. The cooling system hissed as the machine drank power like a black hole drank an accretion disc. I tapped into the terminal and listened to the tensor cores click and chirp as they tore through countless equations, struggling to pinpoint the target across a hundred solar systems worth of relativistic space. It pinged back. I flexed my fingers and typed.

> THE AIR SMELLS DIFFERENT TODAY <

I folded my arms and stared at the flashing characters on the terminal as they screamed through the void.

( HELLO ZYRRS )

Of course he'd respond instantly. I drummed my fingers. I should just get it over with. No sense beating around the bush when every character cost me fortune in power.

> I HAVE DATA. DOES NOT MATCH ANY KNOWN FORMATS. SOME CORRUPTED. NEED HELP TRYING TO PARSE IT. IMPORTANT. <

( I AM PREOCCUPIED )

> DARK, YOU SAID OWED ME A FAVOR <

He was taking his time responding (if he even was a he.) I'd never met him in person. I couldn't even be sure our conversations hadn't been total fabrications, been a lie, but despite it all, we'd been 'friends' for years. I'd 'met' him at a terminal bar on Brachas.

It seemed spontaneous, but looking back on it, I couldn't be sure just how many steps ahead he'd set it up. I was there to research a special species of cave moss that ate radiation better than most electrofields. The only problem was the local government had just gotten through a nasty scandal and was embroiled in the usual power plays.

The habitat was caught between the two major powers, and with one smelling blood, my little arrangement was swiftly and illegally reneged. The last thing they wanted was some alien running around.

That's the story of how I ended up with nothing better to do than vent my frustrations at the terminals. Dark was an eager conversationalist, and when I outlined the exact nature of my predicament he assured me he knew someone in the department.

All I had to do was leave a data rod at the habitat as soon as I arrived, a heartfelt message to an old friend on the other side, he assured me. I really shouldn't have, but at that point I'd become so frustrated at the planet's government that a little revenge seemed in order.

I didn't know what was on it, and I didn't want to know. I finished my research without incident, and surprisingly we kept on chatting the whole time I was there. Eventually I got him to drop the pretense entirely, and we quickly bonded over our similar interests in subterfuge, though mine had been strictly academic up until recently.

( SORRY, TOO BUSY. INQUISITION OF THE MANDATE CALLED. GATHERING INFORMATION. )

I paused, and then typed carefully...

> THIS IS RELATED. HELP AND I TELL MORE <

( I NEED PROOF )

> INQUISITION STARTED BY FYRIX. SUBJECT IS 4TH MANDATE <

There was another long pause. I'm not sure what kind of risks I was taking sharing this information, but it was a little too late to worry about that. Might as well keep the streak alive.

( WOW. YOU'RE NOT BLUFFING )

> I HOPED YOU KNEW ME BETTER THAN THAT <

( YOU'RE VERY PERSUASIVE. I'LL DO IT, Z )

I pumped my fist in victory. If Dark couldn't figure it out, I'm not sure there was anyone in the sovereignties who could. I typed excitedly and sent the strange file across space. I watched the progress increment, and then suddenly freeze at around 20%.

( SOMEONE'S IN A HURRY. TRYING TO GET A VISIT FROM S&C? I TERMINATED YOUR TRANSMISSION REMOTELY. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. IT'LL TAKE ALL NIGHT TO OBFUSCATE THIS. HOPE YOU HAVE GOOD COVER STORY. )

Right...

> SORRY <

( I'VE GOT ENOUGH. LOOKS HOPELESS, BUT I'LL TRY )

> PLEASE. WAS ORIGINALLY STORED ON PHYSICAL DISC. I SAW IT. MICROSCOPIC VALLEYS. ASSUMED BINARY ENCODING. BEYOND THAT I KNOW NOTHING. <

( IF I CAN FIGURE OUT INSTRUCTION LENGTH THERE'S A CHANCE. IF ENCRYPTED JUST FORGET IT. ANY CLUES? )

I rapped my fingers along the terminal. I'm not even sure who this code belonged to. Presumably the civilization that was smuggling the creature, but wouldn't the format be recognizable...?

> MAYBE TURB IN ORIGIN. MAYBE JUNKER. ANY UNDERGROUND FORMATS FIT? <

( NONE I KNOW OF, AND I KNOW A LOT. TRIED ALREADY. NOTHING. IF TURB DEFINITELY ENCRYPTED. I AM BUSY, Z. ANY OTHER IDEAS? )

I was afraid of this. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I was grasping at straws here. I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I heard Chaxa yawn from all the way from the other room. I sat up, dislodging some stacked components in the process. It was impossible, really, there was no way...

But...

"Chaxa!" I called out, already sliding into the room after nearly tripping over the cables. She started and looked at me, her heart beating visibly against her semi-translucent skin.

"Zyrrs...?"

"You still working on the writing inside the ship...?" I didn't want for her response, "Do you have that chart with all the symbols you were identifying?"

Chaxa looked around, brushing aside some notes, "This...?"

"Yes, that!" I exclaimed, "How many different symbols are there?"

She rubbed her mouth, "I'm not totally sure...! Some might just be errors, it's really chaotic! There's a few that might just be mistakes, and there's a few that have only shown up once, so I can't even be sure about that...!"

"Just give me a guess!"

"Uhm... eighty...?" She ventured, but didn't look very confident in her estimate, "Definitely more than sixty, but---"

"Thanks!" I said and ran back to the room, hoping Dark hadn't gotten pulled into another one of his 'projects'.

> LANGUAGE HAS MAYBE EIGHTY SYMBOLS <

( I'LL TRY AN INSTRUCTION WIDTH THAT FITS THAT. NO PROMISES )

He forced the transmission shut and my whole system cooled down, the whining and rattling reduced to a somber purr. I sagged in my chair, feeling all the fatigue from the past few days all at once. I should be examining my footage for any body language to help supplement Chaxa's work, but I just couldn't summon the will to do anything right now.

I paced around the main room until Chaxa finally told me to go wander on the terrace. It was her polite way of saying I was bothering her. I drank some hisk and sat, considering it all. Chaxa went to bed, but I sat in my room amongst all the wires and glowing terminals. The sun rose on Tirotiro and filtered slatted light across my setup. I shook my head and crawled into my hollow, only to hear my terminal chime.

I leapt back atop the impromptu seat and powered everything up, heart racing with dreadful anticipation. I decrypted his message about a relative going on his first hunt and read the real thing.

( SORRY, Z. TRIED EVERYTHING. NOTHING USEFUL. )

The glowing words seemed to hit me with a physical weight. It was a long shot. I knew. Trying to get anything useful from data without knowing the format was wishful thinking.

> THANK YOU, DARK... <

( YOUR PART OF THE DEAL? )

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THAT FAVOR YOU PROMISED <

( THIS WAS THAT AND THEN SOME. I REALLY TRIED, Z )

I clenched my hands, and started to type. I tired to keep it succinct, if not because of the cost of every character, then for the sheer exhaustion of it all. I'd just gotten to the part about the ship when he suddenly stopped me.

( WAIT, YOU SAID PHYSICAL DISCS, RIGHT...? )

> YES <

( ONE MOMENT )

I sat there, confused. There was one thing I knew I absolutely shouldn't do, and that was get my hopes up, but in spite of it all, I stared at the screen, never looking away as that moment dragged on for an eternity.

( HAH )

> DARK PLEASE DON'T TOY WITH ME <

( NO, I GOT IT. WHOEVER TRANSCRIBED THE DISC SPUN WRONG WAY AROUND. REVERSED IT AND NOW I GOT SOMETHING. DON'T KNOW WHAT ANY MEANS, BUT I GOT A FORMAT )

I leapt off the tower and screamed, flailing my limbs wildly as I pranced around the room. Chaxa came rushing around the corner with panic in her eyes, which was quickly replaced by bewilderment as I displayed the most un-Fyrixlike behaviour.

Chapter Text

"Mrnnore spies..." The deep voice reverberated through the dark tunnels.

The air roared and the water splashed as muck and rot sluiced around the creature's ankles, "Hrrnhmwhat do you think, Kael---alwaysneedmhm yes..."

"Ofcourse---but it's nothmhmnrn..." It growled a different pitch, a single beam of light sweeping through the absolute black to illuminate the polished dome of the drone. The machine's head was bent back, sparks leaping from the exposed wires in its neck.

It tilted the thing in its hands as if checking for any signs of life, "They're getting closer to---huhrm... our refuge in the darhrng..." It let it fall, dragging the wreck behind it through the winding tunnels to a dry islet.

"Breaks easy---Don't get tommhrn... Cordyll these are only the scouts---Nnknow that, justnnhrnmg..." A half-smile twitched on its lips as its slack eyes scanned a theatre only it could see, "At least someone's in a good mood... as for mmrgn..."

The creature heaved its long arm in a winding arc, sending the dead drone tumbling out of the water. It landed in a ragged heap with a loud crash. Broken bits tinkled and settled in the heap with others of its kind.

"If only I could..." The light looked miniscule in its enormous hand as the other pried with the blackened blue blade of an officer's sword. The metal gave way and exposed the guts to its shivering gaze.

"Just don't know wherngghthe power's coming from...mngnwhy? Well wouldn't expect one of you martial morons tohgnmmnunderstanditbecausemmhnghrnmbl---is this really the best use of our time is allmgn..."

It dug at the drone's electronic entrails, slicing this and tugging at that, tilting its head curiously as various bits dripped, sparked, and creaked. Despite its best efforts, the alien machinery resisted its demented logic and soon all that was left was another scattered heap.

The remains were cast aside with a heavy backhanded strike and sent crashing against a specially sealed box before splashing into the water, "We're getting nowhere with this...! It's just like these."

The light sliced through the black to reveal a pile of broken weapons, each dissected and discarded, "We need every edge we can get---We're running out of time---Even more mnrreasontomakesng...do it right,"

"Oh be quiet, Ryen." It loped through the waters and ran its hand along the rough scratches, "You want to do it with naught but a blade and our fists...?"

It pointed the light at the rounded wall of the pipe, revealing the scratches and gashes carved into the face, "We havenghtheplan---I know...! I was the one who made it! I still thnghng... Hope that thing won't go off early---Of course theymnmgh..."

A thick finger prodded at a tower-shaped mark, "The Defiler is here---So you've said, but how can you be so sure? Because it's the biggest building we've found. Where else...?" It nodded, "This won't end until us or him is dead." It stared at the ghosts the blackness, "Do you want it to be us?"

"Ofcoursgn...mhnbhu..." Its finger traced the lines of the map, "The plan remains the same..." The tip of the knife scored a ragged line through the rough scrawlings, "Divide them. Confuse them, and then..." It slashed through the central tower, "Victory."

Shaking its head, "Oh if only things were so simple, Thalric." It folded it arms, "It is simple." Rising pitch, "We've got to try regardless. You've seen how they've changed." It felt at the dents in its makeshift armor, "Yes..."

Lingering fingers slid down the rough map, "Sleep... can't oversleep..." It waded to the dry island and curled up. It gripped its wounded leg as its massive chest heaved with the many breaths necessary to extract its life from the stale, rotten air.

"At night we strike... So rest well, my wardens..." Its hollow stomach growled as it tossed into a fitful sleep.

* * *

"We've sealed off here, here, and here." I gestured softly at the holographic projection of the region, "We know it's active around here, and I'd like the outflow near the industrial sector sealed off as well."

I flicked an antennae at my whifts and the handful of enforcers, waiting for the emanations assuring that they were listening, "It'll require shutting down operations, but the nymph's out of the shell now, so there's no point being coy about it anymore. The dissector drones I've ordered will arrive tomorrow, so right now our priority is restricting the howler's territory as well as minimizing civilian involvement."

I stared at the projection, still in disbelief that a single massive creature could be so elusive. At least there had been no more casualties, since after the news there wasn't a Fyrix on the whole continent who was letting their pets out of their sight. I scented some [Yond] from one of the enforcers. It was respectful on the surface, but contained a lapse that irked me.

"Honored Nestiri, what are we do to about the Vyrek in Nelexy and Khue...? They've ordered all their whifts to---"

"Ask your Saratan!" I snapped, "Unless you mean to imply Iiath's forgotten how to manage the peace without me. So some Fyrix are swarming the streets and thickening the air, that has nothing to do with this. My only concern is dealing with this creature."

That being said, containing the panicking, and occasionally angry Fyrix of the affected areas was taking precious resources away from the extermination effort. This was precisely why I'd tried to keep it under wraps. If only they'd realize their incessant panicking was only making the promise worse.

"Anything else?" Despite my words, my emanations were thick with warning, "So I thought... Right now our concern should be---"

The lights suddenly flickered, plunging the room into darkness before whimpering back on. I paused, and then continued, "...We are to focus on restricting its movements within the drainage network. It's unfortunate that it's come to this, but things had gone too far the moment it stepped foot onto this planet."

Letting it live would be a shame I'd carry for the rest of my life, "The fewer areas of egress it has, the less collateral when we---"

A whift suddenly burst in. My first instinct was to efflugate at him, but then the scent of his desperation hit me. He delivered the news with as much grace as he could manage given the situation and soon every whift was with me in a hoverskimmer as we flew over the city of Khue.

The orange glow was stark against the night. The pilot gave the power facility a once around on my order. The manumit below were working to contain the blaze, which looked like it had started with an explosion. Surely not...?

The transmission wires hung slack and the remote field projectors were offline if not totally ruined. We landed amidst the chaos, "Where'd it go?!" I shouted at the nearest manumit as I jumped down.

"I don't know!" He replied, his emanations a vulgar mess, "I didn't see anything! It just happened!"

I sent him off with a vicious emanation and stalked towards the heat. I stood before the burning wreck of the power station's main transformer. Caught between the two contacts at the top of the scorched metal husk was the body of a broken maintenance drone, still jittering from the lingering charge.

"Question everyone!" I ordered #6 and pulled up my interface, sawing my antennae as I tracked the nearest outflow, "It probably came from that way!" I directed #11, "Look for tracks, and see if it went back in."

How'd it know...? This wasn't mindless destruction, this was a targeted act of terrorism. It'd never gone this far into the city before either, at least not since it first escaped.

"There's tracks, my saratan!" Said #11, "One set!"

"One of the workers said they saw something running that way, but it was too dark and the thing exploded shortly after!"

So it was in a hurry, "We'll head it off!" I said and ran back to the skimmer, ordering a few whifts to stay behind and fan out regardless.

The skimmer lurched and lifted off with urgency. I checked for the nearest outflow in that direction. It was far, and the howler was fast, but our response had been swift. We might just be able to head it off before it could vanish.

The night was deep, almost like it'd been waiting for this. I ordered for as many available units to descend upon the area while a beam swept across the expanse below. Others watched with thermals and it would be moments before spotter drones were in the air.

There was nothing but the red trees and grasses below. I simmered silently, and not an errant emanation was made in my presence. We made it to the drainage site in the middle of a park, but couldn't find any sign of tampering. Other skimmers had joined in too, and began scouring the area.

"What?!" I shouted as I listened to my communicator, I gripped my rifle tight and let out a dense fume of [Cirt]

"Go back!" I directed the pilot, "Another plant's exploded, in the opposite direction!"

I sat back down. My finger itched on the trigger. Not even in my days as a whift for Mulot had I ever felt such fury. I swore, that when I found it, I would take great pleasure removing its stain from my planet.

We rushed back the way we came and the whifts I'd left behind confirmed that it'd run this direction only until it was out of sight and then doubled back. The howler had graduated from opportunistic ambushes to full blown military sabotage. Was it trying to take out our power network?

It would need more than this, but the fact that it was even trying was deeply harrowing. It was utterly mindless. I'd seen it. But somehow it knew combat and strategy better than any of my whifts. I hoped the inquisition found the wretches responsible for this mockery sooner rather than later.

Another plume of orange came across the horizon. We didn't bother to swoop down. I sent squads to every possible way to get back into the drainage system. I was forced to delegate the ground work to my more capable whifts as I remained in the air.

My antennae buzzed, "They said it headed toward Kaannen---" spoke #27 from the ground.

"Check for tracks." I demanded, swooping around to shine the spotlight as they rushed below, "It might have doubled back again."

"Yes, it---" A pause.

"...What!"

"There's two sets of tracks and all the grass is matted. One's headed towards Kaannen, another's headed towards... Lurg!"

Was I supposed to believe the thing had suddenly split in half?

"It's just another trick." The problem is I didn't know exactly what it was playing at, "We'll just follow both."

I chose to follow it to Kaannen. It wanted us to think it'd turned back again, but no, it'd gone straight. I could feel it. I shook with intensity as I stared down at the rushing scenery. My antennae shook as another transmission came in.

"An explosion at a textiles plant?" I repeated for the sake of my whifts, "It's in Lurg...?!" I let out enough [Mekk] to make my whifts shiver and signaled to the pilot. So it had doubled back. Of course... of course it would do the same thing twice. It knew that I knew...

The skimmer banked around, heading for Lurg. At least we were catching up to it, and the longer it rampaged the more routes we could seal off, and though it was regrettable that it should do so much damage, the trap was slowly wrapping around it. It wouldn't get away, not this time. My antennae twitched.

"WHAT?!"

I nearly fell out of the skimmer. I let go of my rifle and it would've tumbled overboard if the whift behind me hadn't caught it, "HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!" I shouted into the comms.

I shouldn't have vocalized it. I was undermining my own authority. The myriad scents around me shifted so slightly, but I felt like I was unraveling. They'd just reported a comms tower had been taken down... in Kaannen. The howler couldn't have moved that fast.

There was only one. There couldn't be two. I felt like I was going mad for a moment, and then it was all replaced by cold clarity. To think that even I was still underestimating it.

"Hold here." I directed the pilot and then spoke into my comms, "Anyone on the ground, examine the sites, try and find the source of the damage. One of these couldn't have been done personally."

It was some kind of diversionary tactic. The doubling back, the sudden splitting. These attacks one after another. It wasn't like before, it was trying to throw us off deliberately. I felt the wind flapping my antennae as I hung out the side of the skimmer, watching as we flew in circles. It must have some sort of goal. The only question was... what...?"

"My saratan!" My comms lit up, "There's tracks here in Lurg, but the source of the explosion seems to be some sort of device. There's all sorts of debris everywhere."

Clever...

"It's in Lurg." I announced.

The skimmer leveled out and zipped into the night. It was shocking, but if it knew how to sabotage our power, it shouldn't be too surprising that it knew how to construct such a device. The things probably came preprogrammed with it.

All the weapons it'd been taking, they'd all been kinetics. It must've extracted the explosive charges from thousands of rounds. I could only image how it'd managed to delay the explosion. It'd raided so many homes. Perhaps something from those. A heat gun perhaps...?

The howler had started in Kaannen, placed its device, then walked backwards in the cover of night all the way to Khue and blown the plant. It faked fleeing, only to double back the way it came and blow the second plant before heading towards Lurg, leaving two sets of tracks. Much too clever.

I pressed my comms, "Anyone on the ground at Lurg, tell me which way it's gone." I listened to the report and almost laughed. It seemed too convenient.

This thing was a beast of instinct, a natural born hunter. If I were a bloodthirsty predator with a mind for subterfuge, I wouldn't make things quite so simple. I checked my map. By all accounts it looked like it was heading deeper into the countryside.

It just didn't sit right. All this deliberate destruction in a direction, but the turning back, and even the decoy. It was like it wanted us to think it was heading in a direction, but if it wanted us to think that...

What if its true goal was deeper in...?

If it were to double back again, and go back to where all this first started, it would end up in... Nelexy.

Central Command.

"Stop!" I commanded the pilot, already halfway to Lurg, "We're going back. Head to Nelexy." There were some scents of confusion, but I silenced them, "It's too much of a risk."

"All other units," I fingered my comms switch, "Continue locking down all nearby entrances to the drainage and cover the area around Lurg. We're going back to Nelexy." They were unprepared if it came. They only had stunners. That wasn't enough. We knew better now.

I changed frequencies, "This is Admiral Nestiri, I need at least five enforcers stationed on the outskirts on Nelexy in overwatch positions facing Khue."

"Honored One..." The enforcer began carefully, "We are stretched thin here dealing with all the citizens in the streets. I'm not sure---"

"What's your identification?!"

"#284..."

"Do you think Iiath will protect you from me?" I spoke gravely, wishing this line had a synthesis module to carry my emanations to him, "I'll make personally sure you'll never be able to step into public again...! Give me eyes up there, immediately! There's a chance the howler might be headed that way, and I'm not taking that risk to spare a whift's feelings."

"...Understood."

The line went dead and I sat back, surveying the dismal state of my whifts. One creature, one beast running circles around us... It was demoralizing to say the least, and what was a whift to do when even the center of their world was driven to display such unbecoming behaviour?

"Honored one---!" The comms buzzed into my antenna, "It---! The---!"

I leaned forward, gripping my rifle and smacked the space behind the pilot, "Can't this damn thing go any faster?!" I shouted, putting my hand back to my comms as the whole thing leaned forward and roared to an unsanctioned speed.

"It's here! It---it just ran past! It's in the streets!"

"Calm down!" I shouted back, but if I'd learned anything in these past few days it's that very few outside of the military had the nerve for this stuff. I twisted my palps, "Patch me into one of the spotter drones."

I opened up my interface and assumed remote control. I steadied it, getting a feeling for the controls, and then swept. I saw figures fleeing below. It didn't take long to find it. I trained the camera on it. My whifts leaned in, watching in fascinated horror as the howler charged through the streets.

Hundreds of Fyrix fled down arterial streets as the hulking beast sprinted past with long, explosive strides. It leapt over an oncoming roller as it if were no more inconvenient than a stone, landing on it and leaping off.

I'd never seen it move so fast, not even when it'd first run from us. It's no wonder it'd managed to get here so quickly. It'd come from much higher gravity, and even now it was adapting. I leaned out the skimmer. The lights of Nelexy were in view. If only we'd had some military-grade sky-strikers, but those weren't authorized unless we were at war. Well, it damn well felt like we were.

It tore across the street like a landslide on legs. Its armored head didn't so much as turn, didn't even consider an ounce of the destruction it was wreaking as it headed towards the city center. My worst fears had come true.

The streets near central command were packed with Fyrix, their anger turning to fear as the source of their civil unrest made itself manifest. The panic, the sheer terror was harrowing to watch as the crowd of thousands fled and stumbled and piled on top of each other to get out of its way.

I watched helplessly as it narrowly avoided crushing bodies beneath its feet. The enforcers didn't even try to get in its way. Nothing short of a plasma burst through the head would stop it, and at this point I couldn't even be sure of that.

We were close, but it was already climbing the stairs in three massive strides, pausing at the top only to kick the door wide open. I beat the side of my seat as we swooped down into the space the howler had cleared for us right in front of the central tower.

"Go!" Was all I said, struggling to release emanations strong enough to overcome the choking haze of fear, anger, and pain and the smell of blood. I rushed on ahead, uncaring whether I was even followed.

I was always one step behind it. I'd get it this time. This time...! I gripped my rifle tight and followed behind the destruction. It didn't seem to know where to go, but the thing was still faster than me, even when the ceiling bulged with the imprint of its back. But I knew where it was going.

I skidded around the corner, passing under the arch to the Tall Hall just in time to see the Howler tumbling clumsily in the AG-Field towards the Apex. I aimed my rifle and fired, but the damned field sent the burst of plasma curving into one of the tapestries. The floating whifts paused in their cleaning and gawked at the display below.

"Turn off that antigravity field!" I screeched into as many frequencies as I could, uncaring whether it was broadcast into every home in the city.

The field fluctuated and died, sending the howler crashing to the floor. The whifts above wobbled in the sudden gravity and came down, struggling to control their descent as their hover packs failed to compensate. The howler broke into another sprint, and the Tall Hall had never seemed so short.

I fired from the hip, sprinting after it, but clearing maybe a third the distance. I felt the heat of plasma rushing past me. So some of my whifts had followed me after all.

It crashed against the door to the Apex. I felt my heart twist and all the blood in my body congeal. I despaired in that the Apex should even see such a thing, let alone, be victim to it. The heart of all the Fryix, the symbol of everything we stood for...!

I ran as fast as I ever had, firing madly. The howler kicked at the door and wailed an antennae-piercing screech as it started stabbing madly, the tip of the stolen vibrosword biting into the reinforced crystal with each downward strike. I saw Zharr through the translucent material, his back flat against the wall as spiderweb cracks spread through the door.

"Stop!" I cried in despair, "STOP IT!"

The shot landed next to its head, melting a slug into the once beautiful door. The howler turned to me, bore into me with those terrible eyes from behind its mask. My whole body seized at the sight. It glanced back at the door and let out another wild snarl in frustration,

Damn it all!

I squeezed the trigger with shaking fingers, sending the howler careening off to the side as it was forced to give up. It looked at me again, surveying the scene while I adjusted my aim. It was the shot of a whift that made it leap again, suddenly disappearing behind one of the tapestries. The whifts rained down plasma fire, but the tapestry only rippled, not one molecule of the plasma actually reaching the indestructible material.

The howler went out of sight, whifts already running across the distance to try and surround it. I tried to catch my breath, and saw the tapestry pinch and ripple, the warp traveling upwards.

"It's climbing!" I shouted, and rushed to join the whifts. By the time we were on the other side of the tapestry the howler had already climbed halfway up the impossibly tall tapestry.

Plasma fire fizzled all around it, but the tapestry only swayed, making it even harder to aim as the howler only climbed higher and higher. I screamed. I'd never vocalized such meaningless frustration, but I screamed. It wasn't getting away again! I couldn't let it...! Not after what it'd done to the Apex!

I glanced to my side and saw a whift, not one of mine, one of the cleaners. I rushed over, "Give me that!" I said, tearing the hover pack from his back, "Turn on the antigravity!" I shouted into the comms again as I strapped it to my back.

"Now, damn it NOW!"

It kicked on and I was hoisted into the sky. I swayed and swooped before finally getting it under control and soaring towards the ceiling. The distance swallowed the light until only the faintest glow remained from below.

"Die, die, DIE!" I shouted, leveling my gun at the howler's back, missing just shy of its torso.

It turned to look at me, scrambling around the edge and to the other side of the tapestry. I soared after it, firing wildly as the bursts of plasma filled the dark with orange light.

It saw me, clutching the tapestry to its chest as it hung ten stories above the ground. I leveled my rifle, savoring the look in its eyes, and prepared to fire. Its arm moved. Something flashed. I heard the sound of metal on metal. My shot went wide and I tumbled backwards, starting to fall.

"No...!"

I cried as the howler started to shrink in my view. I saw the blade sticking out from the hover pack, the sparks leaving a trail as I plummeted towards the floor, spinning wildly.

"NOOO---!"

I hit the ground hard, losing consciousness for who knows how long. The field and dying pack had managed to save my life, but part of me wished it hadn't, "We need to..." I forced out, "It's going to..."

"My saratan..."

I realized only then one of my whifts was beside me.

"It managed to get outside and onto the roof. It jumped and landed in the water. We thought it'd died when its armor surfaced, but..." She added with more pity than a whift should ever give her saratan, "We fired into the water, but it seems to have managed to retreat."

There was a pause, "You saved the Apex, my saratan. You scared it away..."

I laid there, staring up at the ceiling as bits of me seemed to grind against each other. I raised my arms in front of me and clenched two shivering fists. I screamed my wordless frustration for the second time in my life.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure...? I don't..." Chaxa followed my pointing finger as it passed through the holographic interface.

"D---" I buzzed, "I mean, my friend said that this should be a passage of text, just from looking at it."

"Just from looking at it, huh?" Chaxa blinked, unconvinced as she stared at the endless sea of 1's and 0's, "I've never done anything like this."

"Hold on." I entered in some commands, causing the data to coalesce into discreet sections of eight before converting it to our number system, "Does that help at all?"

She leaned in, eyes twisting to take it in from many angles, "If these really correspond to the characters you showed me, there should be some similarities. For instance..."

Chaxa picked up one of her many discarded notes and pointed her rounded finger into the page, "...This character, the one that looks like the end of a metal beam, seems to be unique since it's always surrounded by two gaps, or uhm... separators to be precise."

She traced her fingers through line after line of meaningless numbers. My eyes followed the movement and searched desperately, but struggled to see it for anything but textual nonsense.

"Here." She pointed, "32, 73, 32..." She traced through some more lines and paused again, "Here it is again. Could you make it so that any instance of 32 is empty space and all 73's are this symbol?" She held up the symbol again.

"Yeah, sure!"

I nudged her over a bit and started typing into the terminal with an incandescent interest. I ran the command and watched the whole file split into discreet chunks, the first of the symbols standing out stark amongst all the numbers, but even so...

She held up her hand-written approximation of the scrawling on the wall and compared it, "Looks pretty good!"

"Chaxa!" I threw my arms around her squishy, slightly-slick skin and squeezed, feeling her bulge around my embrace a little bit.

She lit up, "There's still a long way to go..." Despite her words, she looked quite pleased with herself, "Another easy one. This symbol that looks like a dot appears consistently after a series of words and always has a gap after it. Like here, Try replacing all 46's with that dot."

I practically shook as I filled it in. I don't think I'd ever been this excited in my entire life. I still didn't know why the language the creature spoke and wrote was the same one in the computer. It was obvious the creature was much more intelligent than even I'd expected, but it still didn't quite explain why their writing used in the ship's computer system. Maybe it was set up to be usable by them.

The more I learned, it only made the crimes of whoever had altered them all that more horrendous. To think that someone could take such a clever and likely proto-civilized species and reduce them to nothing but weapons of war. I could only hope the inquisition found who was responsible. I'd be satisfied with simply saving the thing's life, assuming there was anything left to save...

I shook my head.

Can't let the negative thoughts consume me. We were finally making progress. The easier symbols were finished, but after that it was like putting together a puzzle that someone had sanded the image off. All we could do is look for the most common words and try to slot them in, hoping they'd fit.

It didn't help that there seemed to be two versions of the same character for some reason. Usually they appeared immediately after the dot, but sometimes they would show up out of nowhere and confuse the whole thing. The worst was when we were caught trying to fit in a symbol that didn't seem to actually exist in the language.

It was long into the night before we finally fit the last one. I clenched my fists and shook with excitement. There were still several numbers we hadn't filled out, some symbols that likely weren't present on the walls. But all the critical ones were there, and most importantly, they matched up with the scratches in the wall.

We still didn't know what they meant, but it was a start.

Chaxa went to sleep, but I chose to stay up. I tilted my head back and slipped a tablet between my palps. Obviously I knew the side-effects, but I didn't have the time to worry about that sort of thing. I could sleep on the ship back to Luoma.

Dark was awake. I don't think he ever slept, actually. He complained about being busy again, but it was obvious I'd piqued his interest with all this stuff. He only become more interested when I gave him the characters. It wasn't all of them, but it was enough for him to go poking around in the rest of the data I'd sent him. Sadly wasn't even a fraction of what had been in that repository back on Luoma.

( NO WAY I'LL BE ABLE TO EXECUTE ANYTHING, BUT THIS COULD HELP )

He sent snippets of code, complete with their textual counterparts. It didn't look like much on the surface, but the significance of knowing that this word meant to 'do' something couldn't be understated. It was the first time we knew the semantics behind the syntax. They were the first words that were more than just lines.

> DARK, THANK YOU SO MUCH <

( THIS IS INTERESTING. DIDN'T EXPECT FROM YOU. KEEP IN TOUCH )

> THERE'S SO MUCH MORE I'LL NEED TO FORMAT. CAN YOU MAKE SOMETHING? <

( BUSY. YOU KNOW ENOUGH. )

I twisted my palps. What was another sleepless night at this point. I didn't know digital systems like Dark did, but I should be able to manage something. The binary encoding the ship's computer used was similar to the one the Konoi used. If I used that as a basis it shouldn't take me longer than a day or two. I rubbed my eyes.

Chaxa walked in, "Did you sleep...?"

"Yeah." I lied, "Get this." I tilted the screen to show her, "You kept talking about how you had no context... How's this?"

Her eyes scanned and I saw her heart flutter with excitement, "Oh, Zyrrs. You have no idea how much that helps! Just knowing the conditionals and the conjunctives...!"

She paused and then skipped to her impromptu station in the main room. She sat down and started to work. Even she'd gotten caught up in the excitement of translating an unknown language from an unknown species, apparently having forgotten that what she was doing was technically against the law. She started talking before I was even in the room.

"I've mostly figured out the structure. Words like this that are adjacent to restricted modifiers seem to be referring to things, while these are usually actions. Everything in between is mostly structural."

She went on, "Now that we know what's what, there were several pictographs and drawings next to the writing, and... Oh gosh... I haven't done this since the academy, but we might have enough for an RLPS!"

"RLP...?"

She flapped her clammy hand, "Recursive Lexicon Parsing System. It's something we use for civilizations that haven't unified yet. There can be hundreds, even thousands of completely unique languages on one planet...! That's where the RLPS comes in."

She left me in suspense.

"It sounds fancy, but really it just tries to figure out the language by testing out all the possible meanings behind words and seeing if it makes sense. It's complete brute force and often wrong, but...!" She raised a soft finger, "It's your best bet."

"I'll settle for understanding even a tenth of it..." I said, genuine weariness creeping into my voice.

I watched fixedly as she started loading in terms, using the carved out images as guides for the potential context of the passages. There was an image of seven figures bent over while one image floated over them, perhaps some kind of religious superstition. She weighted the system to take that into consideration, but as soon as she finished, all I could do was wait.

I got back to writing my reformatter while she worked. It was halfway through the day when she came in complaining about a lack of computation power. It didn't bode well that it was taking much more effort than she'd expected, and when I offered her all of my accelerator cores she suddenly looked concerned. It wasn't an amount that any reasonable person ought to have, but she accepted them nonetheless.

That had sped it up considerably, but Chaxa had to be glued to the machine. We were relying so utterly on only a handful of confirmed contexts to unravel the whole thing, and so any one of them being used incorrectly threw off the entire process. I wished I could help, but there was nothing I could do...

It was deep into the night, the screen casting a ghastly glow in the dark room as my head lolled back and stared at the ceiling. I slipped another tablet between my palps and shook my head, straightening to type at my terminal.

"Zyrrs..." Chaxa came in, rubbing her eyes, "It's about as good as it's ever going to get, and the text..." She made a regretful expression, "Don't get your hopes up, okay...? You should go to bed, we'll talk about it in the morning."

I turned, "If you drop that one me, there's no way I'd be able to sleep. Let me see it."

She sighed, and stepped aside. I pushed past her, the pseudo-translation glowing bright on her terminal. I sat down and started to read. Chaxa stood behind me at first, but soon shook her head and disappeared to her room. I hardly noticed.

What was there was nearly inscrutable. Half of the words had notes underneath them offering possible alternate meanings. It seemed to be one of those lamentable languages that overloaded one word to be able to mean wildly different things.

This one three character word seemed to simultaneously mean to place something down, arrange, solidify, cause to start, or act as a place, a collection, or something that is unchanging depending on the context.

It was giving me a headache. Slowly I became accustomed to it, doing my best to fill in the hazy bits, but what was left was just as confusing. If the translation was to be believed, it was an almost religious record of battles and struggles and other strange circumstances. There were references to things that blatantly weren't possible, but were presented with absolute candor.

There were antagonistic figures, things with strange abilities that were poorly described, and slowly it came together. Indeed, despite being able to write, it seemed the howlers were very undeveloped. They seemed to be an incredibly martial species, but far more cooperative than I'd assumed. There were many distinct creatures mentioned, but about seven or eight were reoccurring and there was a great sense of camaraderie between them.

Is it possible that those were the other howlers that my howler had... eaten...? I tried not to judge, the state it had been found in must've pushed it to such an extreme. Was this some retelling of their experiences on their planet? And all these strange, unexplainable phenomenon... Were they the perspective of an ignorant species trying to understand a vastly superior civilization...?

These references to 'great blasts of fire' could easily be plasma rifles, and there were many ways to make something levitate... It was impossible to tell.

Try as I might, the more I tried to read, the more confused I became. It was obvious that these scattered stories were nothing I could use. It was proof of an intelligent but savage species, and nothing more. The rest must be back on Lumoa, on that computer locked away in central command.

If only I'd extracted the whole thing...! But my time had been limited. I had to hedge my bets on what was the most useful, and the massive heap of corrupted and unparseable data had seemed the least important. I sat back.

Maybe this would be enough.

I extracted Chaxa's translation routine to my own data rod and closed the machine. It had been the plan from the start. The sooner the better. I wrote her a note, packed up my things, and left.

Let her rest. She would understand, and if I told her in person she would only worry. I called for transport and stepped inside after it had swooped down. The black night seemed to squeeze the vehicle into its own little world as I looked out into the city."

"To the Space Port, please."

* * *

The machine whirred around me, vibrating my viscera with all sorts of fields and frequencies as the events of the last night replayed in my mind over and over again. If I'd discovered the howler's plan a little bit faster. If we'd flown a little bit quickly. If we hadn't missed. I sat there in the regeneration field as it reknit my ruptured organs and mended my burst cells.

It sped up my metabolism, but the cracks in my back would remain for quite some time. The hardened chitin was unresponsive to the regenerative process. I'd need to wait for the next layer to come up naturally. It hurt, but not as much as the reality I'd found myself in.

It had gotten away again...

The howler had known what I was thinking, could predict my moves. That damned xenobiologist... This thing wasn't a simple savage; it was as intelligent as any military strategist. It'd been faking this whole time, hadn't it...? Trying to get us to let our guard down time and time again.

Maybe we didn't 'find' it, maybe it had been placed in our path. Maybe everything had been planned. This went above an escaped beast rampaging through the countryside. It had escalated into attempted assassination of the head of the most powerful and cultured race in the galaxy. It had very nearly succeeded too...

There were no words, no emanations to express my failure. And so I sat here in this machine with all my misery.

It wouldn't last much longer. The Apex was alive, as was everyone else. The loss of eminence would be severe, but that could be mended in time. It was going to be taken out today, and this wouldn't change that.

There was an emanation of [Yit] that curled under my door. I made my displeasure obvious, "I thought I made it very clear I was not to be disturbed."

The door slid open, the wind bringing in the whift's apologetic emanation. He stood there, harrowed. It gave me pause and I stepped out of the machine, things feeling a little more solid than they had before. The whift carried something in her hand.

"What is that?"

She held it out and I felt my insides wrench at the sight of the punitive sash which dangled from the message with a portent as foul as hanging guts.

"...My saratan..." The whift extended her hands, her emanations betraying the contents of the message.

I stared at her. I felt the world narrow, but I couldn't show it, I couldn't... I reached out and took the message with trembling hands. I pulled off the sash, and read the contents. I read it again, refusing to believe the words that had unraveled my entire life's work. I folded the note neatly and set it aside, "If that is what they've decided." I said soberly and started to march, clamping back my glands with what remained of my pride and honor. My whift's eyes tracked me as I passed. I stopped and grabbed him by both shoulders, my fingers digging into the soft parts of his neck.

"Flood those damned tunnels..." I forced myself to speak with more threatening to spill out, "While I still have the authority...!"

The whift weighed my words and my faltering emanations. She had every right to hate me. This would affect her almost as much as it did me. All of my whifts, all of them...

"Yes, my..." She trailed off.

She hurried away, unable to bear seeing me in such a state. The world was hollow in that moment, and I let myself succumb to my grief for the first time since I was a nymph. Get it out of your system, Nestiri...

* * *

"The Aratrost of Viraathi, Admiral Omnalius Nestiri!" The ritual voice declared solemnly, suffusing the air with a thick haze of strong-smelling sap as they swung around their censer.

The dense haze blinded my antennae to the emanations of the figures above, the ones I'd once stood amongst. It was a courtesy, so that I could not sense their ridicule nor their pity. It also prevented me from recognizing the one who would be performing the ritual.

The Apex sat at the peak of the throng around me. What an honor it was, a whift could not hope for such an eminent audience. I kneeled in the center, the harsh white lights illuminating the haze around me. I'd walked there myself, such was my honor. The room was deathly silent save for the soft tinkle of chains.

It was Zharr who spoke up then, "Nestiri, your actions have denigrated the eminence of all who stand here before you. As a direct result of your choices, the value of those who comprise Central Command has been called into question. The magnitude of this loss cannot be compensated by your own viraas, and so you have been sentenced to an Aratrost."

I couldn't smell the intent behind his words, only take them as the raw, factual statement that they were. I hung my head.

"What do you say in your honor?"

I stared at the floor, "Everything I've ever done... all my thoughts and all my actions have only been towards the majesty of the Fyrix." I shook, "I accept whatever you deem necessary."

Zharr sat down and two Fyrix approached. I couldn't tell their sex, nor their status. They were clad in ritual white, hiding their appearances as they approached like phantoms. I felt something inside of me break as they seized my arms and lifted them.

"Please...!" I protested, "The restraints are unnecessary...! I'll not qualm or squirm! Allow me the honor to accept my punishment readily!"

"Would you have humored the idea if one of your whifts had requested it?" I turned, seeing the face of Iiath staring down at me.

No... I wouldn't have.

The restraints clapped around my wrist, another pair locking around my knees as my arms were hoisted into the sky by a set of chains. They pulled my arms apart and exposed my chest. I focused on the wall ahead, trying desperately to control my instincts to thrash and flee. Those who displayed such stoicism in the face of their adjustment could occasionally expect some token of respect from the ones observing the ritual.

The cart was pushed in, ornamented instruments gleaming wickedly. I recognized them well. I'd used them myself hundreds of times. I tried to look away, tried to think of anything else as they were lifted with delicate grace. I felt my heart hammering in my abdomen as it approached, using everything in my power to keep from bending away from the metal tool as if it were molten hot.

It hooked into my chest, the cool metal chilling me down to the blood as it locked against the first of my thoracic flanges. I curled my hands into a pulsing grip as the instrument was turned, widening the mouth and splaying my chest open. I felt the wind on my innards, my heart hammering and my head going light from the rush of it.

The others were forced open. I hung there, bared to the eyes of those above me. I didn't look. I didn't want to see them. I was thankful... thankful that my station had offered me a descended plinth. The other phantom lifted the final tool, a long and thin blade. Panic swelled in my blood, the reality of the situation crashing down all at once.

Don't scream.

The cold metal blade penetrated my chest. I heaved forward, rattling against the restraints as it scraped against my thoracic cavity, running a long, dreadful scrape down the first of many ribs. The pain was nothing compared to the desolation.

I watched with detached horror as the first bounty came out of my chest, the gelatinous substance glinting on the edge of the blade before it was scraped against the rim of a fire, discarded with a hiss of smoke.

It slid in again. I pulled against the chains and cried out, beginning to break. Three hundred years. Three hundred years of collecting viraas, and it all ends like this...

The scrape of metal, another hiss of smoke. The second Fyrix wiped away a trickle of blood as it streaked down my thorax. The blade went in again, scraping every last ounce of viraas from that hollow before moving onto the next cavity. .

My hands clenched and shook, and then it all went slack. I fell limp, letting the chains take my weight completely. I understood now...

How many of these had I administered...? And without every knowing what the smoke was really for...? It wasn't so the adjusted couldn't smell the watchers. It was so the watchers couldn't smell the adjusted.

I let everything go, my voice, my grip, and my bowels as every gland in my body clenched, crying out my myriad despair for the world. For the first time, without fear, and without pretension, I let my true feeling escape the cage of my heart to mix with the smoke as Nestiri was destroyed.

Chapter Text

        CORDYLL
    So this is the end.

        KAEL
    So it seems, my friend.

The WARDENS OF LIGHT wait in somber acceptance on their fate. The walls are 
rough on their bare skin as they struggle in the dark.

        RYEN
    We were so close...

        NYRIA
    Do not despair, Ryen. Do not despair...

        THALRIC
    At least we gave them something to think about, eh...? Every tale must have 
    an end, and every warrior must one day fall.

        CORAX
    Blood and ashes to that!
      (Struggling)
    I cannot die! Corax will live forever!

THE SHAPER cannot feel fear. THE SHAPER cannot feel fear. THE SHAPER cannot feel 
fear. THE SHAPER cannot---

The WARDENS OF LIGHT see a figure peer over the rim of the tube. The CHITOKYN 
shines a light into their faces and blocks the circular view of the sky above.  
The light hits THE SHAPER'S forehead. It makes the noise they all make and vanishes.

        CORDYLL
    Can't even die in peace from these things...

THE SHAPER struggles to move his arms and legs. He felt the water lapping at his 
waist as the level rises, pressuring against the seal his body had made. He'd 
struggled for what felt like and hour, one arm pinned to his clavicle, the other 
pinned to his waist.

        KAEL
    Maybe it will shoot us. That would be better than drowning all stuck like 
    this, don't you think?

        NYRIA
    Morbid as it may be, I'm inclined to agree...

        CORAX
    You're all too sangfroid about this!

        THALRIC
      (Pointing up)
    It's back.

The WARDENS OF LIGHT peer up as the CHITOKYN peers down again, clicking and 
squealing in a piercing pitch before ducking away again. Something is thrown 
over the edge. It glimmers in the light from above and comes into focus as it's 
lowered. THE SHAPER squints his eyes and sees the looped cable.

        RYEN
    An ally...?

The wire slips off his head and falls against his shoulders. THE SHAPER wiggles 
his fingers, brushing against the cable. With everything he can muster, he frees 
another inch of finger and clutches the cable tight. It goes taut and starts 
to tug. It threatens to slip his grasp and his knuckles go white, but he refuses to 
let go even as it digs into his hand.

THE SHAPER'S shoulders abrade painfully against the cylindrical walls. It would 
bleed. His shoulder joint felt like it would slip, but slowly, the WARDENS OF 
LIGHT rose towards the light at the top of the tunnel.

        RYEN
    An ally...!

Chapter Text

"What do you mean all routes are closed?!" I threw my hands at the Fyrix representative, "You can't just close off an entire sector of space! That's completely unprecedented!"

"Nonetheless, that is what has happened."

The Fyrix sat placidly at the entrance to the Luoman transfer at the orbital hub. It was the smallest of them all. If it were any other race, they would've been pushed to 'general' due to the lack of volume, but having their own dedicated section was part of their pride.

"I'm Fyrix, in case you haven't noticed." I pointed my teasing finger at them, "If you were barring outsiders, I could understand, but you have no grounds to stop me from visiting my home world."

"Miss, you are as Fyrix as a mask is a man." The representative offered without any lilt of humor, but I knew it was all contained in his emanations.

It was always a shock to be referred to by sex. The other races would never know unless I told them. It was a dead giveaway that I was speaking with a Fyrix, if the condescension and subdued arrogance wasn't already enough. I knew that even attempting to emanate outrage would only make things worse.

"I'm aware of my... limitations, but I don't need my sense of smell to know you're only a whift. You'll find I'm still perfectly capable of efflugating. If I were to join your institute I'd rank 3rd Erudite. I'm well within my right to dispense an adjustment for that remark."

I stood firm. It sounded impressive in my head, but I could only hope that my unintentional emanations hadn't made the whole thing pathetic. It was impossible to read the representative as he only stared.

"Even so, it will not make the routes any more available."

I had enough of a feel to know I'd gotten him. As much as I detested these games, the Fyrix at my core rejoiced at asserting my prominence, "Well can you at least tell me why?"

At this point another Fyrix appeared from the office, perhaps summoned by whatever smell of distress the first Fyrix was giving off.

"It is a precaution." They offered, "There have been several events within the sector, and so the Apex saw fit to lock down the whole area to avoid confusion as we investigate."

They paused and then disabled their translator with a tap to the head, suddenly speaking in raw Fyrixian. It was a shock, since I preferred Sovereign Common, but it had the effect of no longer broadcasting their words to the translators of others.

"Since you're Fyrix, I'll tell you. There are signs we may be declaring war against the Turbs, so we're isolating our territory."

I tried to look impressed, which for a Fyrix meant very little save for a pause, "Is that so..." I folded my arms and rubbed the decorative channels I'd had carved into my chitin.

It was a half-truth, most likely. The Fyrix rarely lied, at least not to other Fyrix. They just did things like this. An attempt to seem like they were doing me some favor, which consequently pressured me to return the favor by no longer bothering them. More of their games...

I disabled my own translator and leaned in, "It's about the thing, isn't it? The Howler...?" It was worth a shot.

Though my diction was shaky, it got the point across. They stood stone-faced, as the Fyrix often do, and so I chose to continue.

"That's why I'm here. I was called in to help research it. I had to go off planet to get some resources, but now I've got to get back."

Their continued silence was confirmation enough, though I was surprised that word had gotten as far as an orbital spaceport. It seemed like Nestiri would've been eager to keep it under wraps, but I suppose it wasn't so much the howler itself as it was what it represented.

"Why didn't you start with that?" The lesser of the two spoke up, or at least that's what I'd gleaned.

"I don't see why I should need to blab about government business to a couple of spaceport managers." I said dismissively, "So are you going to let me go back to Luoma or not?"

"No, he's right." The superior one spoke up, "If you're on official business, why didn't you give us your writ of passage?"

Great.

I tried to compose myself, knowing that they'd be able to smell if they'd gotten to me. With everything I knew, I could probably dupe another station into letting me in, but not as I am. I'd need an... intact Fyrix to cover the emanations for me if I had any hopes of being taken seriously on that level. The problem was that nearly half the off-world Fyrix were just like me, and the other half were undeniably Fyrix.

"I didn't think I'd need it. I thought I'd be able to charter a regular vessel like any other day."

"You would not be arguing this long if you actually possessed one." They said, every click sharp as the raw, untranslated words hit me, "Now, why is a Khyllar so desperate to enter restricted space?"

Now they thought I was some kind of spy. I couldn't deny that of all the Fyrix to take the job, those with my affliction would be the most likely culprits. I didn't need to try to smell genuinely pissed off.

If I pushed it any farther they'd probably put me on some kind of list. It would've been wise to leave and try again at another spaceport, but none of the alternatives I could think of felt like they would fare any better. I could try sending Central Command my translator directly, but it's more likely it'd get caught up in endless bureaucracy.

I hadn't accounted for this. I didn't need to go through any of this when I first went to Luoma. If things had gone to plan I'd still be there. I froze.

Wait...

It hadn't been 30 Luoman days yet, and I'd been dismissed on short notice in the middle of an ongoing crisis. What are the odds that Nestiri...

"Okay, I lost it." I lied, letting them think that they'd caught me, "But I've got authorization, just check your machines. It should be under Dr. Zyrrs, code 719472."

The two Fyrix must've exchanged an incredulity, but the lesser of the two slid over to reluctantly check. I clenched my fists behind my back. This would make me look a whole lot more suspicious if I was wrong. Their antennae flicked. In surprise, I hoped.

"I see... so it is."

I held back my relief, but inside my guts were somersaulting. Thank you for forgetting to revoke my authorization, Nestiri! Thank you for being too distracted to do such a trivial thing! I'd need to hug him if I ever saw him again. He'd probably efflugate right into my eye, but the thought made me laugh.

"Don't lose it next time."

The two Fyrix reluctantly led me into the terminal and awkwardly chartered me an unscheduled ship straight to Luoma. They also fined me for 'losing' my writ of passage, but I didn't care.

The Fyrix craft they loaded me onto wasn't as furnished as the standard sovereignties unit I'd taken the first time, but it had its own sleeping hollows. I crawled in and tucked my legs to my chest. The craft shook and I realized I'd come dangerously close to falling asleep.

I still had to finish my reformatter. I wriggled out, pushed another tablet between my palps, and opened up my terminal. I could only hope all this wouldn't be for naught, as I watched the orbital speed away from the viewing screen.

* * *

I, Nithry, was going to die. I was going to die with no great work left behind. To die without showing anyone the vibrant color and texture of my soul. Without leaving any legacy...

Well, my focus was on affectives, and so my legacy would get purged after the next cycle, so I suppose it wouldn't be a very long one. Unless I managed to make an immortal work, which was unlikely...

But now I wasn't even going to get the chance to try!

I could only watch the untamed wilds as they streaked by. The crushing grip around my thorax had been on the verge of cracking my chitin, but eventually settled underneath my legs. The thing never stopped babbling. It was horrifying to feel the howler's hands on me in any orientation. The heat of its chest seared into me like a brand, a bright and burning reminder of its presence. But at least it wasn't painful. For now.

The constant lurching was making me ill. It adopted that same leaping gait I'd seen in the footage from last night's attack as it launched itself over the dense vegetation. I couldn't even remember how long it'd been since I'd landed in this place. I'd become numb to it all.

I could only stare at the wild growths as. Anything to take my mind off of my reality. The reds, the yellows, the blues. Stretching fronds, strangling vines, vibrant lichens and air so thick it make me choke. They were beautiful in their own right, but meant to be viewed from a distance. I heard a screeching call. One that chilled me to my core.

It was a fear so deep and dreadful that it had been inscribed upon each link of my genetic helix. Even in the grip of this beast, it was a grim reminder that there was still yet room for more terror.

I never thought I would be in the bleeds. No good Fyrix would ever go here. They existed today just as they had thousands of years ago. Not sequentially, however. Luoma had lost all its primordial jungles after industrialization, but after the unification and augmentation, it was suddenly feared that the Fyrix were losing sight of their origin.

Objectivity was a terrible thing to lose, and so it was decided that a third of the planet should have its bioforming reversed and returned to its wild state. It was hoped that by being able to experience the land of their ancestors, it would help mollify the growing malaise at the time.

Unsatisfied with only that, ancient seeds were recovered from long forgotten storages and allowed to spread carelessly. Things like prickvine and gutrope that had once been eradicated were brought back willingly. Various bacterium and parasitoids were added as well, and those that were lost were carefully replaced with carefully constructed replicas.

The sterile ecosystems we'd cultivated above suddenly seemed a sanctuary, and it was with a great romanticism that the Fyrix of the time viewed the project. The predators had been the final addition. Long since hunted to extinction, they were released with an almost giddy horror and allowed to multiply in the dense foliage of the bleeds. And thus the project concluded, and as with many things became a point of pride.

I too, had appreciated them from a distance. There were several feeds you could watch over the networks. Occasionally, I'd sleep in my hollow with the electrifying sounds of the wild thrumming into my antennae, imagining the dangers and the raw... reality of it all. I occasionally craved that simplicity.

All that was gone now.

I just wanted to go home.

The thing slowed and stopped, perched atop a craggy jut as it surveyed the surroundings. I squirmed and crawled into the howler's grip on instinct. It was strange, to feel such a fear of the height. The air steamed and shimmered below. If only I'd been strong enough. Hurling myself over the edge would be a better end than what was in store.

I was suddenly set down. The sensation of my legs taking weight was a shock. I curled my tarsi into the damp soil and stared in confusion. The howler squatted in front of me. I felt its breath washing over my hairs as it growled at me. That constant babbling almost seemed directed at me, but I couldn't understand. I shook. I was already terrified. Why did it seek to torment me more...?

I knew the moment I moved that it would pounce, and so I stayed perfectly still. It stared at me the whole time, those horrible blood-green eyes fixed onto me. Eventually it stopped growling and looked around, voice wavering between eerie pitches as its head bobbed and tilted. Its face twisted. Some dumb part of me hoped it would lose interest, only to find myself hoisted into the air again.

It probably wasn't hungry right now.

It was just going to carrying me around until it was.

This was so cruel. Making me wait for it. I tried my best to think of other things, but it was impossible. I couldn't shake the images of my limbs between its teeth. I saw my chitin cracked open, my insides sucked out with glee as my helpless body was pinned to the floor, all while it that evil gaze mocked from above.

Eventually the sun set and a new cacophony filled the night air. It stopped again, and I wondered if this would finally be the time, but the howler only crawled underneath an overhand and curled up. I couldn't believe it, but it seemed like it was actually trying to sleep.

It didn't release its iron grip on me even as it rested. I was pressed against its chest, every rhythmic swell of its thoracic cavity crushing me against its enormous arms. It didn't want me to run while it rested.

The night stretched on. Eventually my mortal terror abated, simply because my bloodstream couldn't fit any more. In that darksome night, I became aware of more things than just my terror. I became aware of its stench, and of the sliminess of its skin. It was the most fetid thing I'd ever smelled, worse than an entire pool of nanthe. The mixture of rot and its own predatory musk was enough to blind.

It really was asleep.

I suppressed the urge to break down and focused on escape. I didn't try all at once. I did it by degrees. A twitch here, a tug there. When it didn't wake in a rage, I pushed it farther. Every time I thought I was making progress it would shift and tighten its grip again, undoing so much work. The sliminess of its oily secretions was a help, but it wasn't enough.

I lost count of how many times I'd tried to slip through its arms. The sky began to lighten and it felt like my own racing heard would wake it as it hammered against my abdomen. I pushed a little harder. I didn't know how much longer it would sleep, and some part of me knew that this would be my last change.

I managed to wriggle down its chest. I felt my feet hook into the ground as I slid over its middle, but I'd gotten this far before. Its arms were tight around my neck. It was now or never. I put my hands to its arms and could only pray. I pushed with all my might, only barely managing to budge the monstrous mass of flesh and bone.

It was going to wake up. It felt impossible that it wouldn't, but as my head slipped painfully between the tiny gap, it only breathed. With the next emptying of its chest, I pushed, and finally slipped through.

It felt unreal. I looked at my hands, and then back at the howler. I ran away and into the bushes to duck behind a tree. I looked back at it one last time. It seemed to still be asleep, but it had shifted, clutching and scratching at the void I'd left. I shivered and bolted into the jungle.

I got away!

I was going to live!

The looming jungle made me feel like a pebble before a fortress. I wasn't sure the way we'd come. There were some prints the thing had left which survived the night, and so I tried my best to follow them. The further I went, the more impossible that became. It had leapt over dense brush that I had to push through in but one bound.

If I could get back to the wall, I might have a chance. There were stations all around the rim to make sure nothing got out. I'd just need to walk around until I found one. You weren't supposed to leave the bleeds once you were in, but I was vyrek. They should be able to smell that I didn't belong here.

I don't know how deep the howler had brought me. It felt like riding a skimmer when it had been carrying me. I tried not to think about how long that would take me. I just had to keep moving. Just keep going in that direction. The shifting in the undergrowth made my blood run cold.

The ground was uneven and soft, sagging and ebbing and sucking at my feet. Something as simple and natural as walking felt foreign. My refined gait wasn't suited to this landscape. I never realized just how much I'd taken the world above for granted. This was the world from which the Fyrix had come? It didn't seem possible.

The grasses grew without restraint, free from the bio-engineering which limited them to the 5th joint of your leg. There were no custotrees and no drainage system, allowing the water to pool and collect. There was a dip in the valley, and one of the howler's prints stuck in the mod on the other side. The scummy surface was teeming with noxious life. I felt it wriggling inside of my joints as I waded in.

I stepped onto the other side and reached to scratch at the joint, but forced myself to stop. I didn't have time to worry. I started to run again, feeling whatever was inside slosh and squish with each step.

I'd used the words, 'climb' and 'clamber' in my works, but I'd never truly employed their meaning until now. It was so unfair that that thing could've scaled this stone in a single leap. I clung tight and close, and all I could think of in that moment was how much time it was going to take to smooth out all the scratches that this was leaving in my chitin.

I pushed myself over the ledge and had to catch my breath. I'd always read the ancient Fyrix used climbing to get away from predators, but I could hardly believe such a thing was possible.

Ahead of me laid even more dense underbrush. I swatted away some buzzing things and pushed in. I could do this. It would take all day, but I was going to make it back to that wall.

I lifted myself over a fallen trunk, then felt something brush my leg. I yelped, springing over the log and tumbling to the other side. I stumbled to my feet, brushing the sticky loam from my chitin. I looked behind me, and saw a curved red claw hook into the bark.

My heart stopped.

A conical maw rose into sight, and then the first of its eight radial eyes peered from behind the log. If I hadn't been numbed to it all, I would've been frozen by the terror. I let out a scream and tore away.

Why...?!

I tilted my head, watching its enormous and sinuous body as the ginru crawled around the log and dug its claws into the soil. I ran and ran, hoping it hadn't noticed that I was its prey, but its eyes extended and locked onto me. It started to bound towards me.

I ran until my vision went white around the edges. I searched frantically for anything, a tree, a hollow, a pool of water, something I could use to try and get away. The ginru's maw split open revealing eight rows of sharp teeth. Of all the creatures in the galaxy, this thing had killed more Fyrix than anything else. Our one and only natural predator.

It was so unfair...! Away from one predator, and into the only thing in the whole world that was worse...!

Everyone learned about them. Everyone knew what they looked like, but to see a ginru in person dredged up a mortal terror that not even the howler had forced from me. That maw, long and flexible enough to curve around the hollows and snatch the Fyrix hiding inside. Its claws, sturdy and sharp enough to dig out dirt and rotted stone.

I was running out of air. I was going to pass out. I ran slower, stumbling to the left. It rounded the corner with predatory grace and pounced onto me. I fell to the ground, sandy ground pressed into my eyes. It felt so unreal as the ginru's heavy claws settled on top of me. Its snout dug into me and the pain snapped me back to reality. It bit into my arm, the chitin cracking and the green blood leaking.

This was it.

There would be no more Nithry.

The ground shook and something streaked in my vision, but I didn't think much about it until the weight suddenly disappeared from my back. I sprung up in shock to see the howler tangled with the ginru. I stared in disbelief, watching the massive giant as it rolled around with the long predator. I couldn't believe that for a moment, I felt thankful.

For some reason, I pulled out my interface and started to record. If not for the howler, I would've called the ginru gigantic, but the beast wasn't even as long as the howler was tall. It was a mess of claws and grunts and screeches, but the two suddenly separated, both righting themselves. The howler on its two legs, and the ginru on all eight claws.

I should run while I had the chance, and maybe it was because I was already too exhausted, but I watched, transfixed as the two beasts stared each other down. I saw the howler's back as it stood between me and the ginru, hands cocked as if set to rend flesh.

The ginru didn't back down despite the howler's size. It was the most terrifying predator, and it wouldn't believe that anything could challenge it. It hissed and screeched, which the howler answered with its own guttural yawping as the ginru circled.

Suddenly it lunged and snapped around the howler's ankle. It let out a yelp of pain and went down. I looked on incredulously as it beat against the ginru's thick hide to little effect. The howler had no sharp teeth and no sharp claws. It wasn't until the ancient Fyrix had discovered metal that we'd even been able to kill a ginru without the use of pitfalls or rockfalls.

Some super predator this howler thing was...!

The howler managed to get its leg free, but the two were tangled completely now, kicking up dust as they wrestled in the spongy sand. The ginru bit it again and I saw blood flow. I couldn't believe that the thing that had terrorized the whole of Luoma could be taken down by a single ginru, but then it let out an antennae-piercing roar.

The howler wrestled with it, rolling around until it had its tail, and then it stood. The ginru's claws dug into the dirt as it tried to curl its body and snap backwards at the howler, only for the howler to yank it into the air. The ginru lunged back in a rage, but the howler leapt back, its tail still in its grasp.

The howler started to pull and turn. The snapping jaw was thrown out as it spun once, then twice, then again and again. I could scarcely believe my eyes as the howler lifted the enormous creature into the air, spinning it around and around until the ginru couldn't fight the momentum. Its head and all its claws were thrown out in the spinning arc.

I had t take it back. Of course the ginru wouldn't stand a chance, but the moment it stopped spinning the ginru would just---

The howler let out a primal roar. It shifted its hips, rolled its shoulders, and finally whipped the whole beast over its head. The ginru's head collided against a rock with a sickening crunch. The thing went rigid in an instant, claws suddenly thrown out as if it had turned into an unliving doll.

With its bare hands...

The howler crouched beside the ginru. It lifted a massive rock. I had to look away, but my antennae picked up a cacophony sounds which could never be unheard. Hard crack after hard crack, followed by a series of increasingly wet crunches. It stopped and it was only because it was a ginru that I found myself able to peek at that mass of gore which used to be its head without going mad.

The howler unfolded to its full height, the ginru's blue blood staining its hands as it loped towards me. Of course, it was only mad that another predator was trying to steal its prey. It stopped in front of me and I crawled away feebly.

It crouched, looking at me, babbling like it always did. I let out a whine as it seized my injured arm. Maybe it was thinking about starting from there, but the way it rolled the arm in its fingers to peer at the injury. The way it'd taken care of the ginru seemed nice. Maybe it would do the same to me.

I felt my arm fall painfully as it let go. It grabbed at the garment it had tied to its waist (which looked like a bunch of uniforms someone had torn apart and stitched back together) and then tore off a section.

It pressed the fabric against my arm, soaking up the blood, and then started to wrap it around and around. I stared, confused.

I could not fathom what it was doing. Not at all. It tied the fabric at the top and then let go. I tilted my head to look up at it, and then flinched back when its lips peeled back to reveal its teeth.

I couldn't understand. It was a wild animal. Barely sentient. It was intelligent only as a means to destroy things. It had almost assassinated the most revered Apex, and yet it was doing this. The howler kept babbling, but not at the air or itself. It seemed strangely... directed, like it was trying to communicate, but obviously that wasn't possible.

It just stood there, watching me...

I finally chose to stand. It made no move. I started to walk away, clenching my fists as I waited for it to pounce on me the moment my back was turned, but it only stood up itself and started to follow me. I stopped, and then it stopped. I walked, and then it walked.

I was so confused.

I looked up at it and---stars above it was tall... I stared into its eyes and felt their withering intensity pushing me into the dirt, but I couldn't find anything that seemed to betray an urge to attack. I'd seen it attack that ginru, so I knew what it looked like when it wanted to kill.

Was it really possible that it... wasn't going to kill me...? I felt at the bandage and the wound underneath while the howler continued to make its odd noises. It hadn't hurt me yet...

But it had kidnapped me...! I felt its binocular eyes tracking me as I started to pace. It was still a deadly assassin, but it hadn't actually eaten any Fyrix yet, though...? It had the opportunity before, right? Maybe it just didn't like how we smelled or something...

But I'd even tried to kill it...!

It hit me all at once. That was from *my* perspective. It was trapped in that drainage pipe, until I accidentally let it free... Its intelligence was wild and instinctual, but it seemed intelligent nonetheless...

Did it think I'd saved it...?

I looked at the howler and tried to decipher the enigmatic expressions on its horrifying features. It was pointless. I was here now, and hopefully this thing wasn't going to kill me... I glanced at the ruined ginru and quickly looked away. It was the reason I was here in the first place, but maybe it was actually safer around this thing than it was anywhere else in the bleeds.

My thoughts were severed as the howler suddenly yanked me off my feet and back into its arms. It loped over to the ginru and grabbed the corpse by the tail, dragging it back with us. I watched the streaks of blood it left in the sand as splinters of skull and flecks of brain were left behind in its wake.

If I'd been an emanist actually worthy of getting published, I would've been able to think up some way to describe just how much I hated this.

Chapter Text

I traced the curve of my flanges with an idle finger. There was nothing inside but pain and swelling. The shade cut a hard line across my legs as the rest roasted in the sun. I found the will to tuck them in and let myself sag against the column of the skyway above. I felt rough stone scraping against my chitin and dulling its luster.

It was just as well. Such fastidiousness was unbecoming to see on those of my caste, and one should never display such pretensions beyond their means. The sun was setting. The streets were sparse. After the debacle at central command, few were walking around outside unless out of strict purpose.

I regarded the other manumit loitering around to my left. I kept my distance, but there was no avoiding them. There were few places manumit were allowed without running the risk of earning an efflugation.

I saw someone approaching. I jumped and grabbed the fan I'd fashioned from a bora tree. I couldn't tell their prominence from here. It didn't matter; it was higher than mine. I ran to the path and swung, sending the leaf litter and discarded silverleaf petals skittering from the walkway.

It was a task that could've been left to drones, but doing so would deprive the manumit a noble opportunity in servitude. It was tiring, and it was difficult to clear the whole way without displaying an unbecoming hurriedness, but soon all the petals were scattered to the heaps on the side. I stood next to my work, emanating [Yaelg] all the while.

Hopefully they were headed home and had no other social interactions planned. It was the end of the day. They might have some extra viraas to spare on an empty manumit on whim. I needed something, any shred of legitimacy to work with...

The vyrek walked by without so much as an acknowledging emanation. I stared ahead and gripped the fan. As soon as he was gone, I walked alongside the path and kicked the litter back onto the stones. I sat back down and waited.

"You're not going to get very far like that."

I didn't deign to regard the manumit as he approached, and despite this, he continued.

"I saw you sleeping under the roots of that bora tree over there. Fresh out of an aratrost, are you? I'll help you out. I've got a sleeping hollow you can use. We can help each other out."

His emanations were apparently unguarded and compassionate, which told me everything I needed to know, "I've got no need for the advice of a manumit a tenth my age and a hundredth my worth. Away with you."

The sheer pleasure to speak without fear of adjustment... The manumit's emanations wavered with an inelegance that was sweet to behold. It was the first thing close to joy I'd felt since even before the events of yesterday.

"You're not going to get very far on your own. You can't rely on a lucky dab of a vyrek's viraas to get a good saratan. You're far better off working with us."

"So you can leech off my viraas and step off my head." I replied with enough [Vuundt] to singe his antennae, "I'm not like you. I've been here before. I've gotten out of it before, and to heights you could scarcely dream of...! So don't think you can get me so easily into your schemes. Yes you, with the flanges oozing the viraas of gutter waste each as repulsive as yourself. You, who still stands over me gawking like an idiot... I've memorized your scent. Yes, I'll surpass you soon enough, and when I do I'll find you! When I'm viraathi again I'll make you swim in my nanthe so that you can never so much as speak to another Fyrix until every meager ounce of your prominence has dried up in your very chest! I'll make it my new life's mission to see you thrown into the bleeds! Yes, I needed the motivation! So keep standing there! Right there!"

I realized I was holding his arms in place. I let go and he scampered off, twisting his head to regard me one last time before rejoining his compeers with a pitying scent that made me instinctively reach for a weapon that wasn't there. I sat back down, trying to settle my insides so that the lingering scents didn't upset any higher castes who came along.

Two appeared as if on cue. I leapt into action and blew away all the leaves once again. I stood there by the foot of the path and waited reverently. They walked as one, bodies tangled as they engaged in the deepest of exchanges, the threads of scent losing their intended meaning from only a step away to diffuse into heady mists of feeling. There wasn't much room to notice a manumit by the side of the pathway.

They walked by and I caught the topic: the two were well into their second festering. There had been a time I could've demanded that from anyone I chose, and yet these two coiled with one another like an insult made flesh. They suddenly stopped. I panicked, flicking the air and praying that I hadn't released any trace of what was in my mind.

"It was you, wasn't it?" There was a curious swirl of [Haafs] and [Faw] in her question. An odd thing to direct at a manumit.

"To whom may you be referring, most respected vyrek?" I asked, measuring my emanations carefully.

"It was. You're the viraathi they stripped."

"...If you are so interested, then I must profess the truth. You are correct in your assumption." I felt the atmosphere congeal, like a sheet of glass heated and hardened so that a single touch could cause it to shatter, "I am grateful to have been given this opportunity to prove myself, and if you could offer some of your most precious---"

"You're the one that brought that thing here." The male interjected, demanding a response from me as was his right.

"...While that is true in a context of pure causality, respectfully, the creature was safely contained under my supervision. It was the insufficient containment after it had left my ward that allowed it the opportunity to escape, and so the most immediate blame lies with those whom I'd trusted it to."

They were both greatly amused by this and I could only shrink. I gripped my makeshift fan and tried to disappear. I wasn't going to get anything from these two, but I couldn't dare leave without their approval.

"I don't know what I've been so worried about if someone like you can become Viraathi." The female sneered. "I commend your bravery, staying on Luoma after what you've done."

She continued with a depth of emanations I had no desire to unravel, "I would've fled to the furthest asteroid quarry and buried myself under the rocks until the sun burned out, but even then...! I don't think anyone will forget."

"...I apologize that my presence has inconvenienced you. It is my intention to leave as soon as I've secured a meager foundation of viraas to fortify myself. If a generous superior were to lend me some, it would allow me to remove this offending self of mine much quicker, if that is your wish."

I didn't want to leave. I shouldn't need to, but if this would get me a single claw of leverage I would say anything. I waited, and their ridicule hit me like a physical force. The both of them, standing and staring, pouring their whole attention to demean me, to insult me. My attempt sloppy, my ambitions laughable, my legacy eternally tainted.

I accepted it gratefully.

I'd never felt so shamed, so powerless. It was a clumsy attempt, wasn't it...? If I'd encountered that, I would've reacted the same. I expressed too much. Too accustomed to my thoughts and feelings being valued to the point that it was only natural to weave the full vision, even if it was one so pathetic.

"So that's how you got your old rank, is it? Taking viraas in exchange to remove your repugnance from the vicinity?"

The last time I'd smelled so much [Uus] was during my attendance of Earna the Humorist. I flicked an antenna as the male joined in the female's humor.

"I achieved vyrek under the saratanate of Sector Warden Khemmes after 44 years of servitude and was elevated to viraathi after disabling a reaver flagship without firing a single weapon."

"Of course. The ones that come through the martial path always do seem duller than the others. That much exposure to the violence of outsiders cannot be good for the head."

I looked away and gripped my fan, "...It's because of that which allows us to maintain our blessed separation. It is an ugly necessity, that is true, but it is a noble path which protects our way of life nonetheless." I straightened, "...Respected vyreks."

"Fine 'protecting' you've done!" The male cut in, "Because of your ineptitude my microsociety assemblage was forced to disband just as it was my turn to fill the delightfully barbarous role of Turbish sheikh!"

"...It is not entirely accurate to call it 'ineptitude' on my part, but it is understandable that one could come to this conclusion when they lack the full information of the matter. Each decision I made I believed was correct within the knowledge that I possessed at the time. They were only proven false due to circumstances beyond my control." I felt my thorax congealing with restraint.

"You were outsmarted by a wild animal!"

"It is not a wild animal! It's a biologically modified soldier masquerading as a wild animal! It's pulled you into its deception just as it did me. That thing possesses a military intelligence on par with any soldier I've seen. The howler is smarter and more dangerous than they realize!"

An emanation of ridicule, "The moment you were ousted they chased it to the bleeds. Maybe if you'd let your betters assume command you wouldn't be standing there in the gutter."

"That poor djeni." The female lamented.

"I am not incompetent!" I threw my fan to the ground, "I did everything correctly! I set that trap! Everything they know, they know because of me! If not for me, the Apex wouldn't even---!"

I felt something splash against my face. I froze, staring. The warm stain seeped and trickled, burning the microscopic hairs as the scent singed my antennae. I dragged a finger through the tarry black substance in disbelief.

The two were already walking away as if I'd never even existed. Realization hit me. I threw myself to my knees, digging into the litter of petals to wipe it off. I grabbed a handful and rubbed it into my face in a panic. It got onto my fingers. I flung the sticky wad out, grabbing more and more white petals to scrape it away from my face.

How long had it been...?

Of course... This was only natural... I had been speaking out of turn. I'd forgotten myself. I would've done the same to a manumit as arrogant as that. I felt at the spot below the dome of my eye. It was dry, but the acrid stench had burned itself into the chitin. I felt my insides churn in revulsion.

I stood and dusted myself off. I left the fan there in the ground. There was nothing more to be done today. I'd never earn any respect bearing the proof of such an offense. It would be a day before the smell started to fade. I didn't even have the prominence to command a perfume to mask it.

The group of manumits was watching me. I turned the opposite way and walked. I went down the road, walking without much of a purpose. The others on the walkway didn't even give me the dignity to avoid me. They walked past as if I was invisible, as if I'd been lost to this world. In a way, I had been.

After it'd happened, I'd fortified myself with hollow words. I told myself that I'd done all t his before. I told myself that with my skills, I'd reach my old position in a quarter of the time. It would be an unprecedented revival, one that would gain my prominence in its own right.

But now I knew that I had even less than nothing.

It was not so easy to shed two hundred years of instincts. If I'd been a better Fyrix, perhaps I could've filled this role as easily and gratefully as any other, and yet that thing which was no longer me still possessed my spirit. How long would it be before my heart accepted it?

I would need to leave Luoma, find some assignment on a faraway colony scraping gangles from station walls for the next hundred years. It would take a long time for my scent to fade from memory. I gripped my shoulders. I wasn't young anymore... Did I really have the strength to endure this for so long...?

I understood their reasons behind my adjustment. It was necessary to sacrifice me in order to maintain the stability of Central Command. This would've put a lot of prominence into question. I was glad to serve, that through this torment I could preserve the magnificence of those above me.

I felt at the stain below my eye.

But It wasn't my fault...

It was all because of that thing. I felt my hands twitch as my tangled mass of shame, hatred, and confusion drained away to something cold. I kept walking. I wasn't quite sure where I was going, only that it was somewhere far away. The city vanished by degrees. The shadows stretched their long fingers into the grass as the sun gracefully died over the horizon.

I stared up at the long, weeping fronds of the taymar tree. It wasn't surprising that my feet had led me here. I pushed back bitter memories of the moss-eaten structure beyond and kneeled by the roots, digging rich handfuls of dirt with each rake of my fingers. There was a small tan box there beneath the soil.

I lifted the lid and reached inside. My fingers wrapped around the familiar grip. The weight was reassuring. The presence was reassuring. My teasing finger looped neatly into the trigger of my old service pistol. Simply having this was risking a permanent trip to the bleeds, but holding this felt like having something close to control.

I pointed it at my forehead to test the feeling. It didn't feel right. Not yet at least. I let my arm drop and stared at the sky as it started to rain. I turned my head to the left, studying the mighty crests of the mountains there. They were thick with the red jungle trees which flourished beyond the bleed's barrier as thick mists danced around their feet.

That's where it was.

There were tales from those ancient days when Fyrix suffered there. Tales of Fyrix spurned and cast out to die in that unforgiving jungle, only to return with the spines of a ginru around their neck so that they may reclaim their place in the enclave. I looked down at my pistol and inspected the old ammunition.

It was larger, stronger, and far more cunning than a ginru, but the antiquated principle remained the same. I tucked the weapon into a sash and stood, staring into the sky to feel the rain roll down my eyes.

It had to be me.

Chapter Text

The howler suddenly stopped, arching its head at all angles to examine its surroundings with that same piercing gaze that bore through everything under its scrutiny. It set me down on a rock, but the rock was wet and covered in slimy organisms and so I immediately slipped backwards. The overhead canopies careened across my vision and for a moment I was terrified that the sudden movement would trigger some sort of mauling instinct, but instead my back collided with an immovable object.

I hardly had time to realize it'd caught me before it pushed me forward back onto my feet. I tried to avoid stumbling the other way, and the thing was already walking off as if nothing strange had happened. I stared, and then saw the carcass it was still dragging behind it and turned away.

I rubbed at my back. I don't know what about this spot made it different from all the other spots it had passed up. I couldn't begin to fathom what kind of feral calculus went on behind those piercing eyes (or at least that's where I thought its brain was.) Maybe it was a better clearing. Maybe it was just farther away. Or perhaps there was just no reason at all.

I sat down on the rock and tried to ignore the revolting sliminess of it, because as bad as it was it seemed better than the dirt. Even though I'd been carried all this way, I was exhausted.

I was thoroughly lost as well. Even if I could get away, I don't think I'd ever be able to find my way back. There was one thing I did know, and that's that someone would probably show up to try and kill this thing, and as long as I was around when that happened, that would be my way out of this place. I just had to endure...

As much as I tried to avoid it, I found myself watching it. The howler was like a gravity well of grotesque fascination. It was simply impossible to ignore, but that was probably because my survival depended upon its intentions. Right now it was playing with the carcass.

First it tugged on the ginru's limbs. Then it seemed to devour it with its eyes alone, leaving no expanse of scales left unscrutinised. After a while it put one of the legs in its mouth and bit down. I looked away, but slowly turned my head back when nothing else happened. It didn't seem to be capable of eating it and it just sat there dumbly with the leg between its teeth.

The howler started babbling to itself and when it looked at me I felt a surge of panic, that maybe it would go for the easier meal. Thankfully that didn't happen and it started rooting around in the grass and dirt. I leaned in, confused. At this point it started picking out rocks of various shapes and sizes.

It picked up one and smashed the carcass with it. I winced at the impact, but it didn't manage to break the ginru's scales. The howler started rubbing its face and making noise again before going back for the rocks. It started smashing rocks against each other one-by-one.

Was it angry...?

I shifted back behind my perch and peered at it. Hopefully staying out of its direct line of sight would keep it from deciding to do the same to me. After it finished, it surveyed the carnage and stepped out of it with another series of shifting noises. Then it just walked off.

I straightened.

It really was just walking off. Thanks to its long legs, it was already out of sight before I'd even had the chance to react.

...Should I chase after it...?

I looked around, suddenly terribly unsure of what to do. Just as I was about to panic, the howler came back, this time carrying even more rocks. Each one was probably heavier than I could ever lift, but it must've had at least fourteen in its arms. It drops them all in a heap and got back to bashing.

I couldn't even begin to fathom what it was doing. The thing was an enigma, but whatever it was doing couldn't be good. It broke those rocks too, and after sifting through the chunks, disappeared into the jungle once more.

Without anything bizarre to focus on I became aware of things like the heat, the humidity, the spores in the air, and the pain in my arm. Not to mention the fact that I was currently stranded in the place that any respectable Fyrix feared more than anything.

I pulled out my interface despite myself. Obviously there was no way to communicate with it. The whole place had a jamming field over it to keep the two worlds completely separate. Instead, I started to record some of my experiences. If the howler ate me, maybe it would help them find it, but I allowed myself to dream. If I lived, I'd be at least a little famous...!

The howler was gone for a long time, but it came back with even more rocks. Maybe I was just reading too much into it, but they were all different. It wasn't just several different sizes of the same river rock, each one was unique in size, shape, texture, and pattern.

And then it was back to smashing them...

I turned my attention back to my interface with a casualness that would've been unthinkable yesterday, but if it was trying to lure me into a false sense of security, it was succeeding. I heard crack after crack, and then suddenly it shouted. I almost fell backwards.

It was looking at me.

I did fall backwards. After picking myself up I ventured a nervous glance. It was definitely looking at me. There no ambiguity with those eyes. As soon as I was paying attention , the howler smashed the rock again, but not before using some horrendous series of gestures and growls at my vague direction in an attempt to command my attention---the type of things lesser races had to do because they didn't evolve proper communication.

It babbled as it struck the rock until another chip flaked off. Was it trying to intimidate me into compliance by demonstrating how good it was at smashing rocks together...? I was already plenty scared of it.

The howler held up the chip as if displaying it and then pulled the ginru carcass closer. It pushed the chip against the scales and then suddenly ripped it across, scoring a glistening chasm of blood and muscle and sinew and flesh and I turned around and screamed while covering my eyes.

No, no, no!

It was still a hideous and horrific beast! Even as I looked away, I heard the wet -snnnk- of another incision. I gripped my antennae and tucked them by my shoulders to deaden the sound. It still came through, every ghastly squelch of blood and muscle. I heard something crack and caught a glimpse: a joint extended far beyond its natural range to expose connective the tissues. The tendon was slit, the leg neatly separated from its body. The smell...!

I let out a reedy whine as a paralyzing terror once again filled my veins. I curled into myself as I imagined myself there, trapped beneath its meticulous dissection. It took my arms first, and then my legs, baring its teeth in that same feral snarl as it took me apart. I saw my own head the wrong way around and screamed, scrambling into the jungle.

I didn't care if it was safer here, I didn't care if ginrus could smell the terror of a Fyrix, I just had to get out of this nightmare.

It was all a blur, and it ended with me clinging to a tree and the howler behind. It touched me, trying to pry me free.

"Leave me alone!" I cried out despite the futility.

I felt the blood on its hands. I've never felt blood on my chitin before. It was thin, almost like paint as it left a trail. It growled stutteringly into my antennae. My fingers were pried from the bark one-by-one and with an eerily soft push in the back, I was led back to the clearing.

The dissected corpse was laid out on some broad leaves, its organs in a heap. I shivered, but eventually surrendered to the nightmarish thing. It was only a ginru... I'm sure the ancient Fyrix had seen worse, and if they could endure to make the greatest civilization in the galaxy, then so could I.

I sat far away and as soon as I was settled it returned to its ghastly work. There was nothing more revolting than flesh-eaters, but this thing took it a step further. It was one thing to savagely tear into something, that at least could be excused as the lamentable mindlessness of lesser beasts, but watching this cold and careful dissection was chilling.

I was beginning to think that the howler was a lot smarter than they'd been letting on. It had made a deadly blade from nothing but a rock after all. Not to mention that it had managed to evade the enforcers for several days all on its own. It was quite possible that it knew exactly how pitiless it was being and yet chose to do it anyway.

It was a ginru for now, but just a few days ago it had been an innocent djeni. The howler must've done the very same. I tried to push it out of my mind and focus on my interface. The stench of blood and bile was thick in the air. The only thing keeping me sane at the moment was this sort of manic excitement I'd been nurturing.

Sure, this was destroying my soul, but on the bright side, I now knew what it felt like to have your soul destroyed, and that would be invaluable for my affectives. I let out some [Uus] and I think I was going insane.

The howler was rummaging through the grass again. It grabbed some sticks, and just when I'd thought the thing had started making sense, it clasped the stick between its hands and started rubbing them rapidly. I was so bewildered that for a moment I'd forgotten how miserable I was.

It just kept spinning that piece of wood against a flat piece clasped between its feet. It just kept going, and going, and going. I couldn't stop staring. It stopped, wiped some moisture off its massive head and then went back to it. What in the world was it hoping to accomplish...?

I wasn't sure it even knew, because it seemed to get frustrated. I couldn't really tell, it could be constipated for all I knew, but the longer it went on, the more its muscles seemed to tense. Even the ones in its face which shouldn't have been involved in the process.

It got up, walked in big stomping, growling circles, then sat back down heavily. It grabbed the stick and rolled it between its hands with such violence that it made me start to lean away unconsciously. Its tongue was between its teeth, its skin a redder hue than I'd ever seen, and its eyes practically bulging from its skull. Its shoulders heaved and it just kept going and going until it stopped, lifted the stick, and howled.

It pointed at me and I leapt backwards. It yawped some savage nonsense as its eyes flew even wider (somehow). All its teeth were on display. It was clearly angry, but I didn't know what I had to do with it. Then it dropped some grass into the little divot it had made in the wood, which started to... smoke...?

It was smoking. That piece of wood was definitely smoking. The howler brought the smoking lump to its face and expelled a controlled stream of air from its mouth and then all of the sudden the heap burst into flames! I stood up and the howler hollered.

I...

What...?

I mean, it made sense from a physical standpoint; it had simply spun that thing so hard that it made enough heat to burn the wood, but to just do that...?

The howler fed the fire until it was large enough for me to feel the heat, but it was utterly baffling. Was it planning to burn the jungle down...? It was apparently some kind of saboteur, but I'd never imagined that it could create such devastation from a rock and twig. I was beginning to understand why the thing had gotten as far as Central Command.

That being said, it simply sat around the fire it'd made and stared into it for a while. The flames danced in its eyes and for a moment it seemed utterly empty, before snapping back and grabbing some of the... flesh...

It stabbed a stick through it and held it over the fire. The flesh hissed and squealed and once again I was gripping my antennae and facing the other way. The sickly smell of burning flesh was unbearable, but when I peered at the beast I saw a stream of liquid leaking from the corner of its mouth.

The smoke was too much. It made my spiracles seize. I moved further away, but just as I sat down something was suddenly thrust into my face. My eyes focused on it, and then everything white.

I wasn't sure how long I was out. It couldn't have been long because I awoke to the horrible sound of the howler masticating. The wet sound of muscle and flesh tearing between its slavering teeth...

There was a lot of competition, but I think this was the worst thing I'd ever heard. I'm not sure why the howler burned it before eating it, but I didn't really want to know either. The howler looked at me, and then returned to its meal. The blood that ran down its chin... stars above...!

I tried to gather my thoughts and suddenly the sickening realization hit me. It wasn't trying to torment me. It had been... offering it to me. It was trying to share its food with me. You'd occasionally see a djeni leave a leaf at your feet thinking that it was doing you a favor, but this...

At least it seemed to confirm that the howler wasn't going to try and devour me. You wouldn't give food to something you intended to eat, right...?

All of this should've put me off of the idea forever, but I realized it'd probably been a full day since I'd eaten anything. I looked around and didn't take long to spy a silverleaf strand. Even in the primordial jungles, they were everywhere.

I knew the howler was watching me as I walked, but I chose to ignore it. It felt so uncivilized, but these were desperate times. I hooked my fingers and tarsi into the bark and started to climb. Before long I was inching along a branch and dangling down with the long cluster of flowers in my hand.

It hit me then, that I was really out here, about to eat from wild flowers just as the threll did. I let my antennae droop and plucked a flower.

I put the end to my palps and tried to suck, but... nothing came out. I plucked it from my palps and stared in confusion. It smelled like hisk, but it wasn't coming out. I peered into the petals. The scent was really strong inside. I made sure no one was watching, and then stuck my face inside. I stuck my tongue into the petals, but got nothing.

I let out some [irt] and stared into its fronds. I stuck my teasing finger all the way inside and felt the familiar sticky nectar. I pulled it out and licked my finger clean. It was definitely hisk. The familiar, fortifying flavor slid down my throat and warmed my stomach, but it wasn't nearly enough. I stuck my finger back inside and licked it clean once more, repeating the process until the flower was empty.

Is this how the ancient Fyrix had to eat hisk...? How horrible. I know the jungles were supposed to be as they were tens of thousands of years ago, but would it have really hurt to plant modern silverleaf?

I worked slowly through the strand flower by flower as the petals piled up beside me. The howler stood up and stepped beside me. To my credit, I suppressed my desire to run away. It crouched down, and I *really* wanted to run away, but it only plucked a flower from my strand.

It brought it to its face, inhaled, and then ripped it open. I felt a strange pang of jealousy. The howler peered at it and then licked up the nectar. An odd second passed, and then the beast's face suddenly twisted into a wretched thing. It bent over. This horrible, noxious liquid exploded from its mouth and onto the ground. It grunted and groaned and I realized with utter revulsion that the source of that fluid was the contents of its stomach.

I moved away while it was still heaving. It seemed to be in pain... I didn't understand what had happened, but I hid behind my rock anyway. I thought before it had been growling before, but the deep throaty noise it made while it straightened forced me to reconsider. It shot some more fluid out of its mouth almost like it was efflugating and then stared at me.

I ducked behind my rock, sure it was going to blame me for whatever had happened and tear my head off my body, but thankfully it simply went back to its terrible meal and burning heap of wood. I sagged in relief.

After I was certain it was safe I went to go gather more silverleaf. The howler ate its meal while I ate mine. I hated having even something as ubiquitous in common, but with a bellyful of wild hisk things felt a whole lot more tolerable. The howler had eaten its fill and the organs had been out long enough that other organisms were beginning to feast.

It just stared into the fire, its mouth moving between shapes beneath the sound of crackling wood. The longest day of my life began to fade as the orange glow of the blazing wood threw shadows against the jungle walls. The howler finally stood, approached, and reached out.

Oh no. I knew where this was going.

I stepped back to evade it. It looked at me, and stars above why did its eyes need to be the color of blood...!? The thing smelled so bad, not to mention all the other noxious fluids coating it. It was going to grab me again, I knew it

But if I had to spend one more night pressed up against that stench I think I'd rather die!

It tried to grab me again but I pushed myself free, holding my arms out in preparation for another attempt. Instead of seizing me by force, it simply... walked away. It sat back down by the controlled conflagration with its massive arms folded.

I... wasn't sure how to interpret that.

It's not like I could stop it from doing whatever it wanted. I sat on the rock, watching as I'd done the entire day. It kept babbling to itself. What was that anyway...? I'd heard that that was how it'd gotten its name, but it was still an utter enigma.

I'd been tuning them out, but the noises were strangely structured... Come to think of it, if it was smart... I preened an antennae, suddenly curious. I listened closely. It was really low, far too low for me to possibly emulate, but I picked out a random series of noises.

I twisted my body and strained my speech organ around the savage noises to test their shape. It was a good thing there weren't any Fyrix around to see me being so ridiculous. It probably wasn't even possible, but...

"$@&%#$!"

It hurt my throat. Just as I'd resolved to never do that again, the howler launched itself away from the fire. It bounded after me on all fours. It grabbed me and hauled me into the air, its foul breath washing over my face as it burned its gaze into mine.

I was going to die.

Chapter Text

I rubbed my thorax and muttered an imprecation in a language spoken only by a hundred thousand tribespeople on a binary planet in the Telaris system. It was unlikely that it would pick up on any translators, but if it had, well... hopefully anyone in antennae-shot didn't have a working relationship with their bloodline.

I knew the Fyrix were paranoid, but that was taking it too far! It was strange enough that they insisted on living security officers, but to think that they would insist on a full cavity search! It's not like their fingers could do any better than a subatomic scan. I couldn't tell if they'd done it out of spite for my condition or they were really just that neurotic. This was the Fyrix, so I'd give the chances an even 50/50.

Unfortunately I now knew what it felt like to have a hook stuck up my flanges. Hopefully they didn't damage anything while they were in there, but now that I think about it, it's not like I'd been using them much anyway.

I stepped out into the morning light and stared up at the bluish, almost greenish atmosphere of Luoma. I'd seen better, but among all the atmospheric compositions I'd seen, it ranked up there, as much as I was loathed to admit. The space docks were even more deserted than usual, which was to say, I was the only person here.

I liked it that way.

The AG field ended at the bottom of the landing ramp and dropped my luggage onto the ground. It rattled and rolled tunefully behind me. There were some new holes in it. I should've expected that. They'd searched my terminal too, but obviously they didn't find anything. I wasn't stupid. I'd sanitized my memory cores until not even the entanglement residue could point to anything remotely Fyrix in origin, and so as far as they knew it contained some personal files and a translation schema indistinguishable from any other of the million languages on official record.

Getting a roller into Nelexy was harder than catching the space cruiser in. It would be so simple if I could just pay for it, but instead I had to barter with something I couldn't even see or smell. The Fyrix operating the lease-lot outright refused to give me one. She sat underneath an immaculately woven awning in the midst of a swirl of numbing smoke.

Every excuse was given with this facade of irritating cordiality. At first she professed (quite respectfully) that she couldn't possibly part with any of them lest she run out. After I pointed out the desolate state of the spacedock and the unrest in the sector, she claimed that such unrest would certainly bring in swathes of elevated Fyrix back home and she had to be prepared.

I questioned why I wasn't listen amongst that number, to which she paused and suddenly decried the state of her machines.

"I know it's because I'm you think I'm lacking in prominence." I said impatiently, "I could do without the theatrics."

"What an insinuation...! It isn't so, it isn't so!"

"I'm here on very important business. That I'm here at all should be proof enough of that. I've been off planet for a long time and forced to work with outsiders. That's why I'm lacking viraas."

"It must be as you say, and it is most unfortunate that you were not able to acquire more when you were here last."

I felt a flash of panic, and hated myself because I'd certainly given myself away. The flick of the antenna proved it, and the fact that that was most likely a courtesy on her part made me even angrier. How had she known...? Did she know of my deception?"

"Indeed!" She continued, "You still bear the scents of the trees and highland grasses, as well as many others, but it is understandable that such a thing may slip your mind when subjected to the dull drudgery of outsider speak."

"Regardless... I've got to reach Nelexy. I'm under orders of Admiral Nestiri to meet him immediately!"

It worked last time I was here, and I prayed it would work again, but instead her head vibrated as she let out a low, droning hum for a few moments. Despite being Fyrix, I'd never seen that kind of response in my entire life.

"Yes! Your importance is clear." She said tunefully, "That is why I cannot possibly allow someone as prominent as you to ride in one of my rollers. They are dreadfully beaten and broken down and altogether unfit for someone of your handsome rank."

I clenched my fist, "I assure you the importance of my assignment outweighs any potential risks to my standing, which I will bear with pride."

"Absolutely not! It would weigh much too heavily upon my heart...! The guilt would eat my gentle soul from the inside out until it paled my shell and soured my viraas! Please, you absolutely must go proudly on your own two legs!"

It took every ounce of self control to keep from lunging at her. It's how the Turbs would've settled things, and I was beginning to think they had the right idea. The only thing that quelled my anger was the knowledge that letting it off was only giving her satisfaction.

"Very well, and as soon as I arrive in Nelexy, I'll inform Nestiri of your generosity. I'm sure he'll reward such a gentle soul accordingly."

"Oh, see that you do! See that you do!" Again that strange and subtle rattling, "Forgive me, it is only courtesy, considering as these things seem to slip your mind, but before you go about this assuredly important business, you should cleanse your chitin of all those offworld odours you've brought along with it. Sadly the others will not recognize your importance, but there are some cleansing stalls set aside for the manumit that you may use."

I flashed another curse from an aquatic species of vermiforms that communicated via a series of semaphores with their anal flaps. I had to use my fingers, but it was the thought that counted. I didn't even want to imagine what emanations she'd been using at my expense. The fact was, lending to someone as undesirable as me brought her no prominence and would only invite scrutiny from her compeers. She couldn't have that.

And that's how I found myself walking all the way to Nelexy. At least the countryside was nice. The hedges were in bloom and the long red fronds of the gnarled trees glimmered beneath the sun. The twisting, weathered trunks were so a caricature of nature, something so perfectly imperfect that it could've only been guided by conscious minds. This was where my admiration of the Fyrix began, and exactly where it ended.

I switched arms on my luggage, shaking out the tension. I should've expected as much. I was able to get by with Nestiri's name last time, but maybe my subconscious emanations had betrayed that I'd been lying this time. Or maybe she just hated Nestiri, who knows.

I tracked the sun as it drifted down the horizon and swore in sovereign standard. I didn't even know if the thing was still alive. The path grew more dense with buildings, and when there was no more room left to spread, they started going up.

The city engulfed me, and I wish I could say it was just as bad as I'd remembered it, but it was actually better, and that's because the streets were curiously desolate. Nelexy was dominated by the tower in the center.

"Excu..." I asked as a Fyrix passed by, and trailed off as they kept walking as if I'd never even existed, "Why'd I even bother..."

There were few places where you couldn't catch a glimpse of it. It made finding Central Command easy, even for an offworlder like me. I made my way up the raised slabs, and was stopped at the entrance, and then the expected started.

"Remind me again, why am I not allow me inside?" I folded my arms defiantly, but glanced up. It's hard to believe the ever-so-fastidious Fyrix would leave that dent in the door to their seat of power.

"Your presence is noxious to me. Even if that weren't the case, only relevant individuals are permitted to enter until the matter of the howler is dealt with conclusively."

"Did you even hear me?! I'm telling you, I have information on the howler!" I continued shouting, "I've got a way to communicate with it! Get your saratan or whatever and explain it to them!"

"Away already, manumit." The Fyrix repeated, physically blocking my entrance, "This isn't the place for you."

"I'm not a manumit, I'm a citizen of Tirotiro!" I pointed angrily, "I have information on the howler and it's imperative that it's delivered to whoever's in charge! If you'd just let me explain...!"

"Try your ploys somewhere else. It is tiresome, the things you manumit can conjure to approach the Apex." He spoke, and as he did, another Fyrix walked past and into the building. I saw a flange twist, sharing some impalpable message between them.

"I...! Can...! Communicate with it...!" I said slowly, "Shouldn't this supersede all these contests of yours?"

"It is a beast." He put his fingers against my thorax, "If you insist on making me denigrate myself to remove you by force, you will not appreciate the results of your own foolishness."

"Right, you'll efflugate all over me." I backed off, wiping the spot he'd touched as if it were a stain, "Well it's not like I'd be able to smell it anyway..."

"That much is obvious."

"...If you could contact Admiral Nestiri and explain what I've told you, it's possible he will vouch for me."

"That will not be necessary." He said with a curious twist of his palps and then spun me around, leaving no ambiguity.

I walked away, clenching my fists tight. I tried to keep my body language under control, but it was impossible to suppress. I didn't even have any foreign curse left to accurately describe how much I hated the Fyrix. At least I knew the howler was still alive, even though I could hardly believe it.

It was ridiculous! To think that I could do so much and come so far, only to be stopped at the final hurdle by the stubborn stupidity of the Fyrix! I could come bearing the universal truth and they'd still ignore me simply because I couldn't cover it ten layers of nuance and nonsense.

I stopped in the square and watched the patterned ground as Fyrix passed me by. My presence was an odious one, something that didn't fit into their neat little world. I had to do something. I couldn't let this be the final hurdle...! I turned my head. It felt like someone was watching me... but I suppose after that display it wouldn't be unheard of.

Hard to believe that I thought Luoma was bad when I had Nestiri's name at my disposal. This was like arguing with sand. I allowed myself a silent scream, but after that, I was focused. I grabbed my luggage and went looking any kind of public terminal.

I was turned away, time after time. I could only endure so much ridicule, contempt, and disrespect. Even when I was on deployments as the only sentient thing on an entire planet, I didn't feel as alone as I did right now. I sagged against the wall and thought about Chaxa, imagining the deep breaths she used to calm herself once more. When this was all over, I'd have to let her give me one of her strange, slimy embraces.

My searching brought me further and further from the city center, and while Fyrix establishments never edged into 'seedy' territory, these were certainly the closet thing to it. I couldn't say for sure, but most of the Fyrix around here were probably manumit. The most salient evidence was how little they attempted to avoid me, though that would change the moment they learned about my condition.

There were hierarchies, even in these places. I was turned away from a few more establishments, but they weren't as vigilant as the others, and so it seemed best to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. I slipped in through a window. Fitting my luggage was a task, but soon enough I was in front of a terminal with access to the general Fyrix network.

The first thing to search for would be any prominent Fyrix in the area. Speaking to whifts would get me nowhere. Even with my condition it was possible that the actual big shots would listen. I hesitated, and then looked up local news instead. I didn't need to look far. It was in every publication, every issue, every topic.

Just what had the howler been up to...?

Escape into the drainage system... Ambushes...?! Terrorizing the countryside, and... immolated and devoured a djeni...?! Sabotage?! Explosions?! An attack on Central Command and the attempted... ASSASSINATION OF THE APEX?!

I sagged back in my seat and swooned a bit. The other Fyrix there looked at me before turning back to their terminal. He... he had been genetically altered after all. I knew he was intended to be a weapon of war, but this was beyond anything I... The djeni was unfortunate, but predators had their instincts just like anyone else. At least he hadn't actually killed anyone.

I read on...

Mauled an innocent vyrek named Nithry on the outskirts of Vhenem before dragging his body into the bleeds, where the howler is assumed to currently remain. I shook my head. I still thought there was value in trying to communicate, but I had to admit, I was demoralized. When the howler had spared one of Nestiri's whifts, there seemed to be a flicker of empathy inside of it. The rest could be written off as instinctual self defense, but preying upon an isolated Fyrix in the countryside was... regrettable.

In a way, I was responsible for that. I closed everything and tried to push it from my mind. If we could use my translator to... I glanced at the door. I thought someone was about to throw me out, but it was empty. I shook my head and opened up a recent database.

The Fyrix were obsessed with this stuff. Roughly ten percent of the network traffic on Luoma was anything of actual substance. The rest was pointless gossip. Who's rising, who's falling, 'you won't believe who did this!' 'can you believe they said that?'

More prominent Fyrix could hardly appear in public without incurring a fierce debate on their choice of neck accessory. Most cultures had their own games of skill, endurance, or mental fortitude which inexplicably suffused the populace like a commensalistic organism. Gossip was the Fyrix's.

Reading through some of this, I suddenly felt that the roller lender had had good reason to turn me away. Regardless, the result was near real-time tracking of any Fyrix's prominence and habits. Well, any Fyrix beyond Vyrek at least. It seemed that all the big decision makers were currently holed up in Central Command, but there were a few prominent figures still outside.

I marked it all down into my interface then grabbed my luggage and strolled out the front entrance. What were they going to do, throw me out?

The first one was... An upper ranking vyrek who is responsible for the acquisition of enforcer's equipment. All I needed was one prominent Fyrix to vouch for me, but as the first door was shut in my face, I was crudely reminded of just how difficult that will be.

The next one fared no better. I'd tried to aim lower, a middling vyrek in charge of overseeing the cleaning the sleeping hollows of central command, but he just seized the opportunity to use me for stress relief. I stroked my antennae and headed to the third one on list.

The longer I walked amongst them, the more I realized just how much they valued their prominence. For the first time in my life, I truly realized just how much they struggled and just how much I was asking for them to risk on an indigent. All my arguments were rebuffed as a matter of course and all my rhetoric pointless. When they weren't balking at my station and my temerity, they were aghast at my aspect. How was I meant to convince them of anything when my every word was taken as an insult?

I went from estate to estate, and even bumped into them in the streets, though they were hard to recognize. Any complete Fyrix could pick a Fyrix they'd never met out from a crowd of thousands from a scent that had only been described to them, and yet here I was fumbling with appearance.

No matter how hard I pleaded, or how much prominence I promised at being the one to bring such important information before the relevant authorities, it all fell upon broken antennae. The sun was setting.

"You do not understand. You are afraid of the Howler...? Wouldn't you like to help resolve the problem as quickly as possible? If you'd only---"

"Back to your place, manumit." Snapped Khuli, the viraathi who oversaw the decoration of Central Command, "Better yet, you should head back to wherever you came from, khyllar. The affairs of Luoma do not concern you."

I leaned forwards to speak, but he cut me off, "You want to communicate with the beast...? What use is that? Even if you secured an audience, you'd only be wasting everyone's time. That thing is to be killed. It cannot be allowed to exist for a moment longer. Take this knowledge and begone." He efflugated nanthe at my feet and strode away.

I stood there in the middle of a broadway, staring at the black stain between my feet. It was supposed to be utterly noxious, and yet it might as well have been an exotic perfume. I'm not sure what I was going to do after this. I wasn't even sure where I was going to sleep. I listened to my luggage rattle as I walked. Even if I couldn't smell it, it wasn't a good idea to stand near it.

"It's getting dark out."

I whirled around to the voice, "Pardon...?"

There was a Fyrix staring at me, and I was so utterly unprepared for one of the Fyrix to initiate conversation that for a moment all my mouthparts could do was squirm.

"I said it's getting Dark." They repeated, "You look like you could use this." They held out their hand and I opened mine on instinct. The moment it was dropped into my palm, the Fyrix walked away.

...What just happened?

I looked at the thing in my palm. It was a little hand-light. I turned it over and clicked the button. Sure enough, a glittering cone of light cut through the deepening darkness. I clicked it off. What an odd thing to do. That Fyrix looked like they were a Vyrek just from their fastidious grooming. I guess there were kind Fyrix out there after all...

No, that was impossible. There had to be some joke at play. I inspected it more closely. Was it going to explode? Leave some kind of stain on my hands? I unscrewed the cap to the energy cell and felt two lumps drop into my hand. I tilted my head, and then gagged. I threw them back inside, sealed the cap, and threw the whole thing into my luggage.

My heart pounded in my abdomen. I looked around the deserted street and trotted off. That wasn't what I thought it was, right...? Because it looked a lot like a System Spiker and a Cep.5 Network Grafter...! I picked up the pace. If I was caught with these I could say goodbye to ever seeing Chaxa again!

Was this a setup?

I found a secluded alley and ducked inside. I crouched over the light to inspect its innards once again. Sure enough, in my hands were two of the most powerful network penetrators illicit funds could buy. I couldn't believe I'd pulled those out in the middle of street! If a satellite happened to catch even a glimpse I was done for. If this was a setup, it was an incredibly expensive one. I rubbed over my pounding heart.

Then it hit me.

"It was getting dark..." I whispered in disbelief, "Dark...?!"

Who were you, and how in the galaxy had you managed to get one of the Fyrix onto your side. I was suddenly terrified, but even so... I clutched them close to my chest. If that's really what you thought it was going to take.

Chapter Text

* * *

    
EXT - DAY - THE GREAT RED JUNGLE

THALRIC sets THE PAGE upon the mossy rock. The chitokyn's antennae whip around.  
The clearing is wonderful. It is shady, but solid, and lacks the reek of the 
soggy murk. The pale light shimmers through the shifting trees.

        THALRIC
    You've earned my esteem with your enthusiasm, but these jungles are 
    dangerous. It's not wise to venture out on your own, little one.

        NYRIA
    I don't believe they speak our language, Thalric.

THE PAGE suddenly slips and tumbles backwards. CORDYLL reaches out and grabs the 
creature's rigid limb. CORDYLL pulls him back and sets him right.

        THALRIC
    Good catch, brother.

        CORDYLL
    (Grunts)

        THALRIC
    Now about our other catch...

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT drag the carcass of their quarry into the center of the 
clearing and set to work on it. Their stomachs writhe with hunger, and the sight 
of even such an armored hide stirs a ravenous need in the group.

        CORAX
      (Bites one of its limbs and grimaces)
    It's tough!

        KAEL
    Please, Corax. Use your eyes...
      (Claps)
    But thanks to your heroic sacrifice, we now know that we can cross our teeth 
    off as viable hunting tools in this strange jungle.

CORDYLL smashes the thing's flank with a rock, but it only makes the carcass 
jolt. It leaves a small crack, and CORDYLL raises his arms again.

        KAEL
    I'd rather our first meal in days was not a pulped mess with shards of scale 
    as a garnish. Patience, my friend... patience...!

        THE SHAPER
    I miss Moondrinker...

        RYEN
    Oh, indeed, to have that wonderful blade in such a situation... It went in 
    the finest way a blade could wish for.
      (Turning to Kael)
    What do you have in mind?

KAEL points his slender finger to the looming mountain visible through a crack 
in the clearing. Its skirt is red and its peak grey and white.

        KAEL
    That mountain has a caldera, long dormant it seems, but there might be 
    volcanic rocks scattered about.

        CORDYLL
    Clever...

CORDYLL takes his rock and smashes it against another. It cracks in two and 
reveals innards of chalky grey and glittering quartz.

        CORDYLL
    Not this one.

CORDYLL offers his broad, toothy grin and KAEL rolls his eyes. 

EXT - DAY - OUTSKIRTS OF CLEARING

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT pick through the rocks scattered throughout the swelling 
and sloping landscape. There's a pause as the others drift ahead and Corax 
speaks up to THALRIC.

        CORAX
    You seem pleased with your new Page, Thalric...
      (Wresting fingers)
    But is it wise to trust a chitokyn? Their kind has tormented us at every 
    turn, pierced our very flesh, all in service of their dark master...! 

        THALRIC
    He saved our lives, Corax. If that one wanted us dead, he would've left us 
    in that pit to drown, or may The Shaper forbid, starve.

        CORAX
   Is it so strange...? The darklings mimicked our compassion and preyed on our 
   pity. To be able to kill a darkling was to be less than human, and yet it was 
   necessary!

THALRIC picks up a rock and examines it. He makes special note of the striated 
lines and sandy texture before throwing it over his shoulder. 

        THALRIC
    If even your twisted thoughts cannot conjure a motive behind such a thing, I 
    will choose to trust my own judgement. I know not your true age, Corax.  
    Only Nyria was sworn before you, but it's clear eternity has poisoned you if 
    you can no longer open your heart to such a heroic deed. Even his own kind 
    was shooting at him, If the chitokyns are evil, that only makes his deed all 
    the more remarkable.

CORAX hisses. He rolls his shoulder and rejoins the others. THALRIC folds his 
arms and watches him with a pitying gaze.

EXT - DAY - CLEARING

CORDYLL cracks another rock and splits it open. KAEL watches on while RYEN, 
CORAX, and NYRIA talk amongst themselves. CORDYLL adds it to the growing pile of 
shattered rocks. He grabs a smooth grey rock. It breaks into a thin flake

        KAEL
    That's it!

KAEL takes it from CORDYLL and holds it up, examining the ragged edge. He grins 
and turns to THE PAGE.

        KAEL
    See this...? This is our meal ticket...!

KAEL pushes the razor sharp edge into the scales of the beast and rips it open.  
He lets out a triumphant cackle. THE PAGE suddenly runs away.

        THALRIC
    You've scared him.

        KAEL
      (Throwing up his hands)
    These things have been trying to kill us for weeks! They can't handle a 
    little blood and guts?

        THALRIC
    He's different.

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT follow after THE PAGE. He didn't make it far. His slightly 
hooked hands were stuck into the trunk. THALRIC picks him up and pries his 
fingers free one by one.

        THALRIC
    Steady, little one... We can't have you running out on your own like that 
    again. There is no shame in turning pale at such sights. It's proof of an 
    uncalloused heart.
      (Hoisting him into the air and setting him down)
    Even so, it is a necessity.

        NYRIA
      (Chuckling)
    Who knew a chitokyn could be so sensitive?

        CORDYLL
    Not me, that's for sure.

THALRIC leads the THE PAGE back to the clearing. He smiles at the short, 
chitinous creature and THE WARDENS OF LIGHT return to their task. They dissect 
the strange beast, raking the fragile blade underneath the skin to free it of 
the silvery tissue.

        RYEN
    What a stroke of luck this jungle has been. Just when we thought we'd been 
    beaten, we find this land so replete with bounties. And to owe such a turn 
    in fortune to such an unlikely source!

        NYRIA
    Indeed... Finally some time for us all to get some much needed rest.

        CORAX
    I don't like it! As we speak, the Defiler is growing in power. I can feel 
    it... our world growing weaker by the hour...

        KAEL
    Yes, my friend, but unlike you, some of us still need to eat and sleep. I'll 
    be more than happy to think up another plan, just as soon as we've eaten.

        THE SHAPER
    Rest is good... 

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT finish butchering the strange beast. They resist the urge 
to taste the raw flesh, even though they're so hungry. KAEL gathers some wood 
and clasps a stick between his palms. He spins it into a divot with confidence.  
Confident look falters. CORAX shoves him aside.

        CORAX
    I'll do it!

CORAX looms over the wood, spinning it as hard as he can. Sweat beads on his 
brow and his ashen hands flush with blood. He throws the stick down and leaps to 
his feet, stomping in furious circles.

        CORAX
    To the pits with it! The pits of Gatterock! I could cast a pyre with a click 
    of my thumbs! I am the Sunmaker! The one who swallowed the cursed city of 
    Kren in pillars of black fire, and yet I cannot summon a single spark from a 
    stick!

        NYRIA
      (Reaching toward him)
    Corax... 

        CORAX
    Do not! Do not even say it!
      (Turning and falling on his knees towards THE SHAPER)
    Unmake it all! I beg of you...!

THE SHAPER twists his godly visage. The Defiler's world fades and it is replaced 
with roaring cliffs beneath a salmon sky.

EXT - TWILIGHT - THE WAILING WALL

CORAX stares ahead with awe, his hollow eyes wide and reverent as he takes in 
the view. His hands tremor as he lifts them and summons a great gout of flame 
from the belly of the sea. It towers above him and rises into the horizon. The 
air is thick with steam and the scent of boiling salt. His rickety hands twist 
and bend and crack, summoning cataracts of liquid heat here and there to consume 
the scene in a mad blaze.

It fizzles out. CORAX pants and lets out a desultory cry from the soul. He 
collapses. The fires failed to heat his skin and everything seemed less than 
smoke. The image ripples and shivers. The world melts and the Defiler's takes 
its place. CORAX weeps as the others look on.

EXT - DAY - CLEARING

        THE SHAPER
    I'm sorry... I cannot even bring us all the way back any more...

There is a long silence.

        CORDYLL
    Enough of this...
      (Snatching the stick)
    I'll handle it.

CORDYLL sits down and twists it into the divot. His strength is immaculate. He 
bares his teeth. His muscles burn, and smoke trickles from beneath his thick and 
calloused fingers.

        KAEL
    Yes, yes...! Just like that!

        CORDYLL
      (Through grit teeth)
    I know what I'm doing...!

The small ember smolders in the divot. THALRIC points at THE PAGE with a look of 
triumph. CORDYLL rolls it into the heap of tinder they'd set aside and blows on 
it. It quickly catches alight. Before long THE WARDENS OF LIGHT stand before the 
roaring blaze.

        THALRIC
    In this place, even small victories seem mighty accomplishments.
      (Clapping Cordyll on the shoulder)
    Good work.

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT set about cooking the flesh. They were so hungry. So, so 
hungry. But they were patient, even when the smoke tickled their nose and made 
their mouths water. But finally when it was ready they devoured it. It was hot 
dripping fat and burned the tongue. The taste was

good

and it felt so

good to taste and feel the throat full

THAL...

THALRIC looks up and notices THE PAGE moving away. He feels the weight of 
contrition upon his noble heart. He regrets losing himself to the delights of 
gluttony when there's another to feed. THALRIC approaches THE PAGE and offers 
one of the sizzling cuts. THE PAGE'S antennae stick straight up. He falls 
backwards limply and stays there.

        THALRIC
    He's passed out.

        RYEN
    Perhaps he doesn't like meat...?

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT return to their meal. The reaction of THE PAGE leaves 
THALRIC in a dour mood. He stares into the fire while the others eat. THALRIC 
glances and sees THE PAGE is up again. The small creature is hanging to a 
creeping vine and scraping some kind of nectar out of a large flower. THALRIC 
approaches and grabs one of the flowers. 

       THALRIC
    Is this what you eat, little one?

THALRIC rips the flower open. The petals are surprisingly tough, but what's 
inside the silvery petals is a vaguely yellow nectar. It smells sweet at first, 
but becomes acrid and earthy. He licks it off the petals and

it's wrong

oh it's wrong it flash cold sweat sick it... burning throat it watering eyes 
there is cannot breathe stuck it

sick and gasping 

ground is close smell is...

think fine it is...

        CORAX
    He

more comes out

ache and cold veins

He...

        CORAX
    He's tried to poison us! See?!

        THALRIC
      (steadying himself)
    No, no... This was my mistake. I... I suppose there's things that only 
    certain creatures can eat... It was wrong to assume chitokyns would have the 
    same diet as...
      (retches)
    You or I...
      (turns to the chitokyn)
    Sorry for showing you something so unsightly.

THE WARDENS OF LIGHT walk unsteadily towards the carcass. It was unfortunate to 
lose such good meat to the ground, but there was plenty more to sate their 
stomachs. It doesn't taste as good with the lingering sickness.

EXT - BEFORE TWILIGHT - CAMP

        RYEN
    What are we to do about this all...? It seems things have only gotten more 
    dire, despite this respite. 

        KAEL
    I'll think of something. It seems wise to lay low for now and bide our time.  
    Our attack on their vile tower must have them on high alert. If we want 
    another shot at defeating the defiler, we'll need a different approach.

        RYEN
    And what would that be...?

        KAEL
    I said I would think of it!
      (throwing out his hands)
    Honestly, boy, you'd ought to have learned patience by now. If you'd have 
    been a Warden during the Campaign of Glass, you'd have more faith in me!

        CORDYLL
      (snorting)
    That plan fell apart the moment we hit the water. Unless getting spotted by 
    the Watcher's wards and eating his curse was part of your plan?

        KAEL
    It was! But, bah...! I'll not bother explaining myself to you. I'm only 
    trying to say that though things seem rough, we've always triumphed over 
    evil and all who serve it.
      (pointing at the chitokyn)
    Even that one knows it.

        THE SHAPER
    Yes, an unlikely, but invaluable ally...

THE SHAPER stares into the fire.

        THE SHAPER
    All those days... all for nothing...

THE SHAPER wraps cold fingers around his body. NYRIA comes from behind to drape 
her arms around his neck, but she was uncharacteristically cold. Her presence 
was diminished, somehow less real. He thinks of THE PAGE and the astonishing  
presence he'd presented the night before. THE SHAPER stares at his flexing 
fingers and stands. He heads for THE PAGE.

THE PAGE steps back. He steps forwards, but THE PAGE rejects his advances. He is 
not happy, and it cuts THE SHAPER to the core. He sits down in front of the fire 
once more.

        THE SHAPER
    Why...?

        NYRIA
    You must have upset him.

THE SHAPER ponders all the things he's done to upset their only ally. It weighs 
heavily upon him. The thought of losing the only friendly creature in this 
entire land is too painful to bear.

        THE PAGE
    Y-Yo--Yuu...?

what is

that

THE SHAPER leaps and runs and grabs THE PAGE

        THE SHAPER
    What did you say?!
      (shaking him slightly)
    Say that again...! M-my name is! Thalric!

silent stare

    You said it before...! Say something! Thalric! Thalric! Thalric! My name is 
    Thalric, and... say it...! Thalric!

feel him shake try to relax.

        THE PAGE
    Thxxth...

        THALRIC
    Thalric!

        THE PAGE
    Thxthlx...?

The noises sound struggled and strained. Maybe he cannot. Maybe it is not 
possible. Maybe the other way works. 

        THALRIC
    What were those noises The Witch had made...?

        KAEL
    -Thclthckilix-

THE PAGE lets out a scream of excitement and wiggles in our grasp. THE SHAPER 
splits his mouth into a wide grin. His hands grips the chitokyn's shoulders 
firmly. Cannot contain the shaking. 

        THE SHAPER
    You can call me The Shaper...! These are my Wardens, Nyria, Cordryll, Ryen, 
    Thalric, Corax, Kael, and Khorr---
      (pauses)
    Wait... I killed him...

THE PAGE turns his insectile features away. 

        THE SHAPER
    Oh...!
      (pointing at himself)
    My name is The Shaper...!

THE SHAPER points at THE PAGE, prodding his finger into the creature's rigid 
chest expectantly. THE PAGE is silent. His hands are grasping at the air. He 
looks like he did when he was about to pass out.

        THE SHAPER
    Your name...! What is your name...?!

THE PAGE has his back against the dirt. Was it us who put him there...? He 
reaches out and presses against THE SHAPER'S chest.

        THE PAGE
    -thrrk'tixh ssht-tkrrh chhix'thhrr---th'txkh!---srrith'kth trrrxhhithk!  
    thhhktk'tix sskrrhh'tth, chrrrkh'tixh! tkht---tkht!---thkrrhh'tixhthhh!-

THE SHAPER stares.

        THE SHAPER
    No, that's... Uhm...

        THALRIC
    You said my name before, didn't you...?
      (pointing at himself)
    Thalric...!

THALRIC points at THE PAGE again. This time the chitokyn covers his face and 
then grips his antennae. Once again THALRIC points at himself, and then to THE 
PAGE.

        THE PAGE
    -Thhihtxri...!-

        THALRIC
    -thitxri...?-

        THE PAGE
    -Thhihtxri! Ssktkhhh'tixh rrhhthhh'tk!-

        THALRIC
    -thhixtrih!-

THE SHAPER lets go of THE PAGE. We can talk to them! We can talk to them...! THE 
SHAPER wipes at his face with shaking hands. He's surprised to find tears. THE 
PAGE tries to stand up. We wrap our arms around him. We feel the weight of him.  
The firmness of his small form. It's as if

astounded by his physical existence

        THE PAGE
    -Thkrrhh'tixh sskhhrr---trrithk'xthhh---chhrrtkhh ssthrrk'tixh!  
    Thhhktkrrh'xx---krrh'tkhh srrithhh'tk---tchhhrhixkthhh! Ssktkhhh'tixh 
    rrhhthhh'tk!

        THE SHAPER
    -thhixtrih!-

We hold him tight

to our chest

Chapter Text

Once again I was pinned underneath the Howler's enormous weight. The moon was shining down, but it was impossible to get any rest. The thing even growled in its sleep... My arms were pinned to my thorax so all I could do was try to bend my antennae away from its mouth to deaden the sound, but unfortunately that did nothing for the brain blasting stench that reeked from every measure of its horrifying being.

Trying to move just made it clutch me tighter. There was no escape, only grim, dead acceptance. I could feel its outer layers sloughing off against my chitin. The oily, dirty sweat rolled up into oleaginous globs like tree sap against the edge of a warm blade, except that blade was the segments of my joints. It slithered inside and wicked into my inner membranes. Now I could feel it squishing around in there whenever I moved.

It was the worst thing I'd ever experienced, and recently there was a lot of competition in that particular category.

The thought that I now smelled like this thing was almost as harrowing as the thing itself. It would take days spent picking at my joints just to get everything out, and then who knows how long it would take steaming and perfuming to become even remotely presentable.

...Maybe it was good that I was able to worry about things like that.

I still didn't understand why, but I was safe for the moment. It felt like I might actually make it through this. There was hisk, and surely there were others looking for me, even if it was only to get at the Howler. The thing rolled over, taking me with it. I felt its arms constrict tighter as its massive hand clutched my thorax. I'd long since given up.

The moon shone from above. There was some solace in that. Despite everything, it still looked the same as it always did. Not that I ever spent much time looking at it until now---but what wouldn't I give to be gazing upon it back at my estate instead of in the arms of an enormous monster.

Hearing my own language distorted through that cavernous throat was... I struggled to put words to it. It was deeply, and viscerally wrong. The tones were right, or at least close enough to recognize, but everything else was so wrong. The familiar words were tortured through alien airways never meant to utter them and came out a cruel mockery.

Being told to 'stay there' in that voice had almost given me an involuntary expulsion, and for a second I thought it could actually speak my language. The fact that it chose to ignore everything I said afterwards proved otherwise. It ignored everything and crushed me against its chest.

But it could speak.

The day broke after an agonizing night. The Howler shifted and released me. The relief was indescribable. I scampered away and started digging at my joints, only to feel it looming behind me.

"Sztop that!"

My heart indeed stopped, and then the tension in my shoulders slowly relaxed.
I turned slowly to face it. Right... that's what it had been repeating since last night. What in the world was even happening...?

"You don't understand anything I'm saying, do you?"

"Zstop that." It directed its finger at me, and then started to babble in its own language again.

I could only stare, but the intensity of its gaze made me need to look away. It looked like it was expecting something, and I was terrified of making it angry, so I strained my voice organ and tried to repeat what it'd said last night.

"#@%##&$S"

It hurt. I hoped it wouldn't damage anything. The Howler displayed its teeth, trying to intimidate me by showing what it would use if I dared to disobey no doubt. It started growling an incredibly fast and unbroken series of sounds that I couldn't follow even if I'd been trying.

I tried to back away, and it only followed me on all fours. Its face loomed close. I started to regret ever saying anything to it. I hadn't the faintest idea of what it was trying to accomplish either. Again, it thrust its finger at me and growled.

I stared, and it stared back.

"Don't hurt me...?"

"Donth hyurzt mi."

I flicked an antennae. This was just... bizarre... This creature, the very same one one responsible for sending the entire planet into a panic after attempting to assassinate the Apex, was now repeating my every word like a broken interface.

"What do you want...?"

"Hrhut du yu wanth."

I flicked another antennae.

"Nithry is the most incredible emanist."

"Nrthxy iz zhx mrhtx iirthx...?"

Oh what in the world... Despite everything, I let out some [Mekk]. If I lived to make a memoir of this, I'm not sure anyone would believe me. The howler dropped down lower, studying me even more intently, if such a thing were possible. It growled right into my antennae, and then whipped its head around, growling between different tones.

Suddenly it plunged its hands into the soil. Its fleshy fingers dug deep and curled, trapping the rich soil in the cage of its fists. Before I could question it, the clods were thrust into my face. I stumbled back. It walked on its knees to follow me and thrust it into my face once again, its eyes intense enough to burn a hole in my shell.

I looked at its enormous hands, each one capable of crushing my head without much effort. I studied the cords beneath the tissues as they bulged. That intensity never went away and I wanted nothing more than to wither, but I had to believe it wouldn't attack me.

"Dirt... Yes, it's dirt."

"Dirzt?"

I had to lean away as it pushed it right under my palps.

"It's dirt!"

"Dirrt."

It threw the dirt over its shoulder and picked up a small stone. Well, small for it, at least. This too was pushed into my face with the same intensity. I felt myself drilled into the ground from the pressure, but regardless...

"Rock..."

"Rockh."

The howler's lips peeled back to show its teeth stained bloody green. Stars above I hated when it did that, but I couldn't believe it. There was no other way to interpret it. It was actually trying to learn my language. For what purpose I could hardly fathom, but it was trying.

It continued grabbing random things and thrusting them towards. I could only meekly respond and hope it wouldn't injure me. I was fairly sure it wasn't going to randomly attack me at this point, but with the speed and ferocity it was moving around to grab things, getting in the way of its whirling limbs seemed near fatal.

"Plant..."

Once again I heard my own words repeated in stentorian tones. I'm not sure I'd ever get used to the rumbling timbre of its enormous wind sucking organ. The howler ripped up some weedy red flowers and showed them to me.

"Plant...?"

Somehow it didn't look satisfied.

"It's just a plant! I don't---"

"Itz juzt a plankt...!"

"No---I don't know what it's actually called, okay...?! I don't live in the bleeds and we don't have weeds like that on the actual planet!"

Its eyes screwed in their sockets before it growled again in its own language. Even after all this I still couldn't understand why it continued to speak to itself. Knowing that it was capable of communication only made it even more confusing. After that it gave up and went off in search for more things to foist upon me.

I sagged in relief. It was only after I released it that I realized how tense I'd been. This was exhausting... and now it was coming back with that terrifying rock knife it'd made...! and it was still covered in blood...! Wonderful...!

"Knife... or rock..." I explained with a dejected curl of my palps and [Cohl] it could never smell, "It's a rock knife..." Someone please make it stop.

"Rockh nifhe."

Wait... It just hit me. Maybe being able to communicate with it could be useful. The absurdity of it all made me forget. It seemed absurd, insane, and absolutely unthinkable, but maybe... I could convince it to do something...?

Only one thing came to mind. It was babbling when I finally found my voice and straightened my posture, "Y-you smell very bad!"

It wasn't freedom. It wasn't safety. If I could have one thing in this moment, it would be the merciful release from its horrid stench.

It paused, then fixed its gaze, "Youh zhmell very bad."

"No, what I'm trying to say is---!"

"Noh, what I'm tryting to sath ix."

I wanted to scream. I clenched my hands and then slowly directed my teasing finger up at its face, "You smell...! Very bad...!" As much as it galled me to indulge in such primitive ways of indicating things, without emanations, I had no choice but to mimic its way of doing it.

The howler pointed at itself, "Youh..."?

"You, yes... You!" I continued, "You smell...!"

"Youh zhmell...?" It swayed and stared up into the sky. I could practically see the thoughts rolling around in its oversized head.

This was going nowhere. Things like rocks and plants were one thing, but how did you point at an abstract concept like smell...? Maybe I could find something smelly and use that as an example...? Though, as far as I knew it didn't even have any odors it considered unpleasant. It must not, considering it seemed perfectly find walking around like that.

I pointed at it, "You..." I pointed at my antennae, "Smell...!"

The Howler grabbed my antennae. I screamed. It took everything inside me to keep from yanking away and ripping them right out of my head. My instincts told me it was a fair trade to get away, but as much as I wanted to stop smelling it, I wasn't prepared to go quite that far!

I could hear the muscles rumbling beneath its skin! It was disgusting and deafening! This was too much stimulation. It was like being electrocuted! I grabbed its massive hand and tried to push it off. Surprisingly, it let go on its own. I shook my head and grabbed my antennae, preening them anxiously.

I stroked my fingers up and down the fronds, undoing the matted and bent strands. Thankfully nothing seemed damaged. It wasn't uncommon to lose a few strands here and there, but I'd heard stories of vyreks losing their chance at viraathi because of a single missed emanation. If you were missing even a single strand, it would haunt you for the rest of your life, never knowing if that one extra length of sensory input would've made the difference between ascension.

I let go and they sprung back into place. I collected myself, and then pointed again, "You..."

How would you even express badness...? I twisted my hand and wriggled my fingers like worms like something going bad and rotting. The Howler just stared, and then it started copying my gestures.

"No---It's like---!"

I brought my hands to my chest and then pushed them out like I was trying to push away the air. This too, it mimicked. Oh... I was so thankful there was no one else to see this. Nithry, flailing his arms around trying to communicate with something only barely above a beast, brought to such debasement because this creature had never bothered to evolve proper communication.

Creatures like this could never have shelves in their house. They'd probably knock everything onto the floor flailing their arms around just trying to ask about the weather. I tried spinning my finger, flicking, and shaking, but nothing worked. It only responded with its own equally enigmatic gestures.

I sagged on my knees. It looked a little strange. I didn't want to make assumptions, it could be thinking about how delicious I'd taste for all I knew, but it seemed just as upset at this impasse as me. Maybe something more direct. I took a tentative step forward, regretted it, but reached out in spite of that.

It only stood there as I scraped my finger down its skin. I pushed down my revulsion as the grime curled onto my finger. I held up the noxious glob in front of it.

"This...! Smell...! Bad...!"

I said it with as much emotion as I could manage in a language that wasn't meant to convey emotion and then flicked it off my hand. It landed on the ground. I kicked some dirt over it and stomped it down. Finally, I looked at the Holwer with all the exasperation I could manage.

The vacant look in the thing's face spoke of some unknowable primitive calculus, but then its eyes flickered. It ran its own finger along its chest and stared at the rotten slough that came off. The sight seemed to confuse it, as if it wasn't completely covered in the stuff. It brought it to its face and then breathed through the smaller holes in its face. The way its face wrinkled was new.

"You smell so bad it honestly makes me want to rip my antennae out of my head." I added, purely for my own benefit.

The Howler babbled something, and then bent its head to inhale other parts of its body. It suddenly rolled its shoulders and then grabbed me. I was terrified that I'd made it angry somehow, but then it put me on top of its shoulder.

"W-what are you doing!" I said, suddenly swaying at the dizzying height, "P-put me down...!" I could only grab onto its head for balance.

The Howler started to walk and the rocking, thumping motion was churning my guts in all the wrong ways. I tried to keep from looking down, but my hands were too busy holding onto its head to block my eyes. How did it live this far off the ground...?! I let out a dismal cry.

Was anyone even looking for me...?

* * *

"This is the Fourteenth Sunrise in the Cycle of Stars, Day Three of Summons overseen by Zharr, The Most Revered Apex. Topic pertaining to the Assassin Organism and its whereabouts."

The whift shook his ceremonial instruments and the dull hiss of sand signaled the start of the session. I sent him away with a wayward emanation and rose to address the assembled viraathi. Hundreds were in attendance---an amount unseen since my own ascension.

"Yes, yes... I see Kherrith has chosen to join us. I find the attendance of disposals to be a poor excuse, as if the dead superseded my own prominence, but we will move on." I paused, "Where did we leave off yesterday...?"

"Tarrhyn was proposing an aerial poison." Tchorr said with an overflowing amount of [Yit], just the way I liked it.

"Right..."

I sat down and presented my hand to the whift attending my seat. She rasped it with a grit so fine it felt like the kiss of a breeze. It was unsightly to display such grooming before others, but I was the Apex, and the circumstances were quite exigent.

"Tarrhyn...? You may continue."

The emanations were diminished from the distance, but they were acceptable. An obsequious, but industrious one that Tarrhyn. It was difficult to say whether I should raise him or crush him. I flipped my hand over, letting out some [Graad] and [Afs] while I waited.

The whift chose my small finger to start with. How fortunate for Tarrhyn. I'd let him rise, in that case.

"Most Honored Zharr, it is my personal belief that poison would be the optimal solution to this problem. We have its biological composition on file; making an appropriate toxin would take my domain less than a day."

"I must disagree." Thryix spoke up, "It leaves too much to chance. I took it upon myself to review the proposition, and the toxins most effective against it are equally dangerous to us, if not more so. There is too much risk of an accidental exposure of those within the bleeds."

Now that was interesting. Quite a rallying amount of [Grak], and yet the hints of [Lam] and the oxymoronic inclusion of [Elt] made it a heady and amusing mix. I wish I'd been closer, but as interesting as it would be to see this play out, I interrupted their clash.

"You do understand that the crux of the matter is not the method of the creature's disposal, but the intrusion upon the bleeds...?"

"Of course!" Tarrhyn agreed eagerly, "This is merely conjecture for when that matter is decided. We've been at such an impasse it seemed a welcome topic."

"And you're so confident that I'll choose intervention that you've taken it upon yourself to preempt my verdict..."

I caught some of his dismal scent and almost shivered with satisfaction. I could push it, but truthfully, I wasn't in the mood, "...Nevertheless, it all comes back to that."

"Most Honored Zharr." Iiath spoke up, "We have the dissector drones ordered by the once admiral. It would be minimally invasive to send them."

"It is the principle of the matter...! Deploying drones would necessitate lifting the null zone in order to operate them."

"You're absolutely correct, but if I may present some hypotheticals... It is unlikely that there is anyone who could benefit from the temporary lifting of the jamming fields anyway, and it would be far less impactful than sending in our armed forces directly."

"It's unprecedented! Introducing modern technologies is completely antithetical to their purpose! I do not wish to be the first Apex in a thousand years to break the sanctity of the reservation zone."

"If I may...?" The ever meek Tsarra spoke up, "Removing an unnatural predator from its ecosystem could be interpreted as preserving the sanctity...?"

I thought on it, "No, no... I'm not so sure. It's a beast. It's still a part of the natural order we swore not to interfere with."

"It cannot get out." Rakha added, "We've already increased the security around the wall. If it tries to escape, we will simply shoot it. Wait long enough and this problem will take care of itself."

I gave my other hand to the whift, inspecting the first.

"Those irritating clods in the Sovereign Council are pestering me for its corpse. Ordinarily I would put their opinions in the same place I put my nanthe, but their assistance in this matter is annoyingly... vital..."

Silence stretched over the hall as and indistinct mix of emanations drifted to the floor. I was due back to that irksome assemblage in a few days. It would be rather convenient if its corpse was in my ship's hold, but even better would be if they'd drop the theatrics and seize the Turbish leadership already.

I let out some [Irt].

Drak suddenly stood with some [Yan], "Most Honored, Zharr...! It is my belief that the very act of attempting to bring injury to your illustrious self supersedes propriety! I believe everything is justified, and it should be killed as soon as possible by any means you deem fit!"

There was a generalized scent of agreement, one that I made no effort to hide my approval with. It was overpowering, and if they kept it up I might actually offer them some viraas.

"Incidentally, Zharr, how is your little project going?"

"Oh, quite well." I answered, "It's slow, but I've gotten the blue seam of a kahyu tree to graft to my arbur. I've begun twisting the trunk and it's come out quite wonderfully."

"Oh my...!" His [Nab] was shared by the whole room, "You simply must tell us how you've managed it!"

I looked at my two hands and twisted in my seat to give the whift access to my legs, "Well, as you know, it's reluctant to graft because of the herbicidal excretions of the arbur, but if you..."

* * *

I swayed. Was it just me, or was it windier up here...? I wish I could say I was getting used to being perched atop its shoulder, but I really wasn't. My arms were beginning to ache from how hard I'd been clutching. I'm not sure where it was going, but it seemed like we'd been following the same stream for an eternity.

When it first headed for the water, I'd hoped that it was finally going to clean itself off, but apparently that was too much for the beast. Instead it merely walked beside it and---

My body was suddenly weightless, and then it bounced hard. My view from that precipitous was brought to the ground in an instant and it rattled my brains. I leapt in a panic and grabbed onto the ground, scrabbling away so desperate and confused as a dull pain radiated through.

When I turned around, I found the Howler standing inside of an enormous hole. Only its head and shoulders were sticking out, and compared to me, it seemed confused more than anything. I rubbed my aching chitin, and it simply gripped the rim and lifted itself out.

It was easy to forget that that pit had been as deep as my house is tall. If I was the one who fell in, I'm not sure I would've been able to get out. Even so, what a strangely deep hole... I hadn't seen it at all.

The Howler looked into the depths, growled something, and then walked away. I followed after it, happy to be on my own two legs again. The novelty wore off fast. Just how long was this thing planning the follow this stream...?!

I got my answer when it pushed through some bushes. The branched crackled with reluctance, but past their cagey fingers revealed a clearing and a deep and glittering lake. It wasn't as clean as the lakes you'd get on the actual planet, but it was glittering nonetheless.

The Howler ran into the water without hesitation, the pounding of its heavy footfalls stirring up silty swirls. I saw little aquatic creatures skittering off in fear. It slowed down, clutching itself and shaking before resolving to travel in even deeper.

I sat on a rock and simply watched. It sucked a great bellyful of air and plunged itself under the water's surface. Simply seeing such a thing made me uncomfortable, even though I knew it was some sort of semi-aquatic organism. It had survived in the drainage system for days, after all. If I'd done that, all my spiracles would've seized shut and I'd drown within moments.

The Howler surfaced, casting an arc of water behind itself as it threw its hair back. Its skin was turning pale and blush, but I'm sure it was supposed to do that. After shaking some more, it turned to me.

"Stop that!"

That never failed to make me jump. It pointed at the surface of the lake. I sagged on my knees and flicked an antennae.

"Water...?"

"Wather."

It dove underneath the surface once again. When it emerged it massaged circles into its body, disturbing the dust, dirt, skin, blood, and oils all over its body. I could hardly believe it. It was actually cleaning itself simply because I'd asked...

The water around it turned filthy. I could practically see the rainbow sheen of the oils as they skimmed along the surface of the lake. I suddenly felt bad for all the creatures that lived there.

I sat on that rock, staring at it without any of the terror that had once controlled me. It was really beyond comprehension. I watched it climb out of the water, climb on top of a large rock, and then leap into the water as it hollered out with a voice that sent hundreds of creatures flying from the canopies.

The implosion was immense. It sent water as high as the treetops, and it all came raining back down like a storm. I felt some droplets pelt my chitin and a few slip into my joints, making me congeal. I saw it running up the rock again and ran to higher ground. Another implosion shook the lake.

As I sat down again, it started splashing and swirling with a cacophanous, stuttered roar. It disappeared into the murk only to resurface an alarmingly long distance away only a moment later. I rested my head in my hands.

There was no way to describe what it was doing other than having fun. I just sat there, utterly incredulous. It was still dangerous. I could attest to that with my own eyes, but...

I was having a hard time believing that this was the same thing responsible for all that terror beyond the bleeds.

Chapter Text

"But why would I want a Khyllar's viraas?"

The manumit's question lacked the casual condescension of the vyrek or one of the more well-to-do whifts. It was a genuine question with little pretension behind it. I sat patiently, mirroring their restrained demeanor.

"Are you really in a position to turn down viraas?"

I resisted the urge to gesture around me. The building was filled with enough manumits to create a hazy heat in the air. The austere accommodations included the necessities for life, but not much more. Beyond the shoddy old game table I was sitting at there were manumits milling in circles, conversing with others, sitting with themselves, and many lying around in heaps.

The sight of so many bodies piled up on top of each other would probably seem odd or even mortifying to some species, but it was perfectly ordinary. If you couldn't get your own sleeping hollow, the bodies of your compeers would do as a replacement. It was an old instinct that made the Fyrix find comfort in tight places.

"I don't want anything that would reflect poorly upon me. I sense a lot of annoyance on you already, even a faint trace of nanthe. I'm finally getting noticed. Yesterday one of the Viraathi sent in my direction a trace of...!" He paused, "You wouldn't understand."

"It's to be expected with my condition." I said bluntly.

I'd realized that keeping it straightforward made the Fyrix slightly more likely to listen to me. It was like even attempting to express emotions without emanations was an insult, so it was best to eschew them altogether. He didn't say anything, so I continued.

"I'm quite prominent outside of Luoma. I'd be an erudite in your institute if I'd applied. There's more to prominence than simple viraas for the thyss and the erudite, is there not?"

"Yes, there is a utilitarian value to capable minds and hands, but that value is not easily transferred... and you are a Khyllar."

If I were Chaxa I would've let out a long, affected breath. Again, the term. Scientifically, it was called Sensillia Atresia Syndrome. It was a congenital defect that causes the chemosensory filaments in the sensillia to incorrectly anchor themselves to the underlying matrix of dendritic cells in the microtubular channels of the antennae. Starved of input, the channels eventually retract and keratinize, becoming completely inert. While the antennae may look intact from the outside, inside they are effectively dead.

There was no cure. It was an unfortunate genetic mutation of the Fyrix's FBCP gene cluster, one that even advanced bioengineering couldn't correct. The only way to treat it would be to cast aside all the mandates and enter the avenues of universal morphogenesis, but it wouldn't stop at curing genetic diseases, next would come the augmentations. Biological systems cannot help but compete, and with that power augmentations would beget more augmentations, and endless game without the restrictions of evolution to guide us.

Eventually you could infest other bodies, clad your own with crystal lattices capable of withstanding the brutal cold of deep space. You could consume gamma rays, metabolize stardust, spread, consume, and compete, all without any limit to expansion save the availability of raw metabolites. It was yet another avenue to the inevitable hegemonizing entity that the Sovereignties were created to withstand. I chose to accept my defect, if that was the alternative.

It had been called Khyllar's Disease for many millennia. It was from before the unification, and while the Fyrix were generally less warlike than most species, conflict was inevitable. In this age of scattered enclaves, there were many Apexes, as oxymoronic as the term seems now. While the Fyrixian ideals called for merit to be the sole means of ascension, in those days it was common for an Apex to use their monopoly on prominence to spend the years to raise one of their own to the position.

That was the case with a Fyrix called Khyllar. Not wanting to lose his position, the ancient Apex called Khyss poured everything he had into his only son, even when it was clear he was not fit for the position. Then, through an unfortunate series of events, he became the next Apex. Khyllar's antennae were pristine, but utterly hollow. Just like mine.

The nature of his condition was hidden, used by the viraathi of that enclave to their own benefit. That was, until the neighboring Apex came. The nature of Fyrixian warfare was lost upon poor, unfortunate Khyllar. When people looked to him, he was unable to rally them, unable to even understand them. I could only imagine the helplessness he must've felt. It was inevitable, and at the end of it all, where most fallen Apexes would've been able to bargain for their people, he was unable to even do that.

Disgusted, the conquering Apex, Grom, had Khyllar's abdomen punctured and his ignoble body thrown into the swamps. Unsatisfied, Grom then saw a people who had been so foolish as to let a Fyrix like Khyllar lead them, and so he subjected the people to the most brutal slavery imaginable, and it was through these years that the name Khyllar become synonymous with betrayal, weakness, and stupidity. Poor Khyllar. Poor, poor Khyllar...

He'd become not only a symbol for my disease, but also the folly of thrusting prominence upon the undeserving. He was what the Fyrix should never become. It was this cultural specter that I was forced to fight every time I spoke, every time I struggled to be taken seriously...

"Excuse me...?" The manumit asked, "If you are attempting to communicate with your emanations, they are vulgar and I cannot make sense of them."

"Pardon... Lost in thought." I flicked a half-useless antenna, "I may be a... Khyllar, but I'm still a well respected researcher. I won't do anything that would reflect poorly upon the bearer of my viraas."

"As I've said... I can tell already that you have."

It was an enormous effort to hide my impatience. I should've put more care into cleansing my carapace, but knowing the Fyrix they'd probably be able to tell anyway. Still, after speaking with twelve manumits, this was the furthest I'd gotten with any of them.

"It's only the usual amount you'd expect with my condition. It's nothing that would reach you." I lied, "I'll be leaving in a few days anyway. I won't be around to get into trouble, and you'll still be full of viraas."

"Even so..."

The manumit shifted uncomfortably, but they hadn't told me to leave yet, "I---" Another manumit bumped into me on the way to the sleeping heap. I clenched my hands and let them relax.

"...I have plenty of it. As an offworlder, I don't have the opportunity to use it much. In fact, I've just been spitting it down the drain of my apartment back on Tirotrio for years."

They twitched, but remained silent. Even so, I saw their antennae sawing the air, regarding me in even greater detail. I felt nervous all of a sudden. I was afraid of my unconscious emanations giving anything away, and so I tried to focus on the four Fyrix throwing sticks on the table behind ours. Two pips and three pipes. That was a winning throw, right...?

"What did you say you wanted again...?"

"Oh." I said, "...Like I said, I'm an offworlder due to my condition, and while I've been doing well for myself, as a Fyrix, it's always felt like there was something missing. It's like, I can just tell that there's something wrong with them. I came back to Luoma to get in touch with my culture, but then all this turmoil with the Howler happened and now they've closed up Central Command. You're one of the tapestry tenders, right...?"

The manumit didn't reply, and then twitched, realizing that I couldn't sense whatever emanation he'd sent out, "Yes."

"I wanted nothing more than to spend the whole day immersing myself in all the history on those magnificent tapestries in the Tall Hall, but it's almost time for me to leave and there's no sign of this whole thing resolving. I felt devastated, but then I thought... if I could take the place of one of the tenders for one day, I'd be able to not only read them, but also experience a proper Fyrix day of work! I'll have no use for it as soon as I leave, so I'd be willing to give you all my accumulated viraas if you'd help me."

The pause was long, and it left me wondering if I should've complimented the Fyrix more. Several manumits came and went during that unflinching stare, until finally he flicked an antenna.

"Okay."

I jumped to my feet, "Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed, and then shrank back as all heads turned to face me. I sat down quietly, probably unconsciously giving off the appropriate emanations of embarrassment. The manumit stared.

"Viraas."

"Right..." I shifted closer, "Bear with me, it's been a while since I've done this."

With that, I stuck my teasing finger between my palps and maneuvered it into my mouth. It was warm and wet. I felt the soft, bulbous glands sitting in the basin of my mouth and then pressed. The sticky sweet substance started to leak out. I swirled my finger clumsily around it, catching it all in ribbons as I rocked my head to push even more into my mouth.

The ball of pure viraas grew inside my mouth, and when I pulled it out the thing was almost as thick as my finger. I worked my palps to clean off the residue, a few strands of saliva still connecting it to my mouth. The manumit's antennae went straight up and I felt the attention of the rest of the compound on me. I imagine they'd never seen this much from one person. It would take me a year to make this much again, but I didn't care in the slightest.

"Here."

My voice snapped the manumit back to reality and they allowed access to their thoracic flanges. I'm pretty sure I accidentally poked them somewhere sensitive trying to get it in there, but they didn't say anything as the wet bulb eventually settled into the cavity.

"Now you'll let me take your place?"

"Yes..." They said, "But, I'll need to teach you how to do a proper job. I cannot have you bringing shame on me!"

* * *

I waited in line, manumits in front and manumits behind. It was an austere sort of entrance that they had set aside for the manumits and whifts. The ramp kept us out of view from the street so that their glorious central command could stand without any odious crowds marring its magnificence. The ramp zigged and zagged down into a passageway that led straight into the depths of the complex.

I clutched my arms nervously, desperate to keep the decorative carvings in my chitin hidden beneath my clothes. No one here did that, even though they looked so stylish, and it would immediately oust me as an offworlder.

The line moved and I took another step forward, stepping from the light across the horizontal slice of shade. I felt my chitin cooling, and after another five steps into the edifice's shadow I was starting to feel sluggish. I didn't show any indication of it even as the mass of concrete seemed to suck all the warmth from the air.

There was a Fyrix standing at the entrance. I couldn't tell their rank exactly, they could've been vyrek, or simply a trusted whift, but it was obvious they were supervising the ingress.

The cold became an asset, because without it my heart would've been thumping even louder as it became my turn to be scrutinized. I'd spent until the afternoon rehearsing with that manumit. The topic would always drift towards the proper cleaning techniques and courtesies while on the hover packs, but I'd find some way to guide it back to my emanations. They'd never seemed quite satisfied, but after a lot of poking and prodding, they'd rubbed my body to get his scent on it and then assured me it was good enough.

I could only hope.

I sent some of what I assumed to be [Fen] to the supervisor as I passed. I saw an antenna flick, and I felt my insides congeal, but then the biggest challenge was finding a way to keep my relief down when they looked past me and onto the next manumit in line.

I guess that manumit hadn't been lying. It made my heart twist with guilt, but it was too late to back out now. The sky disappeared to be replaced by a long throat of concrete, and I just kept walking.

On any other planet this kind of infiltration would seem so absurdly implausible that they'd probably just laugh in my face. The very idea that you could simply walk into the ruling body's central authority without any kind of verification would be utterly unthinkable.

The Fyrix weren't stupid. When it came to exterior threats they had some of the most rigorous security practices in all of the sovereignties. It was threats that came from the inside that confounded them.

As one of the few remaining homogeneous societies, the Fyrix weren't always confronted with the weaknesses of their interior systems. Even if you pointed them out, they'd just say, 'but no Fyrix would do that."

They weren't entirely wrong either. Most societies tempted this kind of subterfuge with capital, but the Fyrix had no currency, save for the esteem of other Fyrix, and that was not so easily stolen. In fact, doing this would only reduce your value.

Of course there were antisocial aberrants in any society. It was only natural for chaotic systems to swing bad just as often as they did good, but almost all the Fyrix that swung that direction would've been made Threll long before they got the opportunity to engage in espionage. As such, Fyrix that were not bound to their social currency and yet still possessed an ounce of prominence were a blindspot.

I didn't want to think about how all my actions were probably just confirming their biases against offworlders. What I was doing was important and right. I had to tell myself that.

The concrete corridor snaked through the guts and the pipes of the complex. Manumits broke off here and their into their various sections to busy themselves with their menial tasks in the hope of one day getting into a saratanate. I saw the window polishers, the trash haulers, the dust beaters, and the censer fillers, but the ones I pitied the most were the vent crawlers. The Fyrix claimed it wasn't slavery, and that's because it was purely voluntary.

I did my best to familiarize myself with the layout before coming here, but it was disorienting. There were no windows, only stone, steel, and unnatural lights. It just went around and around and around. I couldn't stop to get my bearings without breaking from the line, and so I was inexorably pushed deeper inside. It was like walking into the mouth of a waiting predator. The manumit could definitely smell my nerves, but hopefully it came across as mere first day flutters and not the reek of a criminal.

I spied it from the corner of my eye. Surreptitiously, I fell in line with the next group to break off and slowed my pace. This way seemed to be some kind of station for polishing all the various silver picks, files, rasps, and clasps that the viraathi used to maintain their appearance.

Pointedly, it was not the way to the Tall Hall.

It earned me some disapproving leers, but I walked to the side and stopped, rubbing at the globe of my eye as if I'd gotten something on it. When the flow seemed to stop, I sidled up to a door and reached into my coat.

"Dark, I swear if this thing doesn't work..." I muttered to myself, pressing the beak of the system spiker into the door's security lock. For what it was worth, the Fyrix weren't stupid enough to let just anyone wander in here.

It chirped quietly, vomiting out who knows how much careful telemetry across who knows how many frequencies. The mechanism groaned like it was dying, and then it popped open. I felt my heart stop for a moment. I looked behind, and then carefully shut the door behind me.

The inside of the hallway was much like the one I'd come from, but it had a presence to it. There was this pervasive sense that I shouldn't be here. Even so, I crept along. I was finally in a position to check my notes, and it seemed I was deep in the data system, but to actually access it, I would need to go to one of the central computers on one of the higher floors.

I felt my heart pounding in my abdomen. It was starting to make me feel nauseous. I had a feeling the next time I went to a regeneration session that they'd remark on just how much I'd aged in such a short time. Every corner was its own personal horror holosim, and I'd always hated those things.

As I climbed the stairs the walls become less austere and more accommodating. It was a sure sign I was entering the floors that the viraathi were intended to use. I checked my notes, and then slipped out of the stairwell. I was getting closer, but so was the risk of getting caught. At least the brutal maintenance tunnels were probably empty. Up here there was a real risk of bumping into another Fyrix.

I didn't need the central computer. I just needed one with enough access to get into the archives of the Khellus incident, and this data systems management floor felt like the perfect place to do it. It felt like the sound of my tarsi scratching against the floor was louder than an impulse thruster. I hid behind a large potted plant and checked my notes again.

Almost there.

I ducked around the corner and saw two globes staring back at me. I stared back, and then both our antennae shot up as my blood ran cold.

"What are you doing here---?!"

The Fyrix shouted, but I was already running the opposite direction. I hadn't even heard them! I couldn't even think. I just had to get away. I ran back down the way I came. Maybe I could lose them down the maintenance tunnels. They'd still report me, but it's possible I could get enough time to translate the files as a bargaining chip! That was my only hope, but...

I looked behind me, and saw them sprinting after me! They were so fast...! Why were they faster than me...?! All the Fyrix on this planet were softer than my ventral seams! They'd fall over and swoon if they had to adopt a brisk walk, so why'd I run into the only Fyrix that could run?!

They were right behind me. They grabbed my shoulder, spun me around. I lifted my hands to guard myself. I may not have looked like much, but I knew a little thing about self defense. I struck, and then hit the air where their head used to be. They surged int my space, knocked my guard open, and punched me right in the thorax.

I let out a confused gurgle, and then suddenly I was upside down. I hit the ground, grasping at the tightening arm around my neck, "Let go!" I growled uselessly as I felt myself being dragged along the floor.

I struggled, and didn't make it easy for them, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop them from dragging me into the nearest shadowy room. They kicked the door shut from their position on the floor as their grip only tightened. T-They weren't going to kill me, were they...?

"What are you doing here?" The voice asked again.

They stared down at me, two shadowy globes and two antennae drooping I could see from my position in their grasp. I stiffened in shock and stopped struggling.

"...Admiral Nestiri...?"

He twitched and then snapped, "How did you know it was me?"

Was he really making fun of my condition in this situation...? "T-the patterns on your shoulders are very distinctive! and... I don't know! Y-You just look like Admiral Nestiri, okay...?"

There was a long silence, which gave me time to contemplate just how utterly and totally screwed I was. What I'd done was criminal, yes, but without evidence of anything greater, I could've possible explained it down, and yet here was the only Fyrix who know I was absolutely, definitely not supposed to be here.

Of all the Fyrix on this planet why did I need to run into him...!

Chapter Text

I stared at the door, her weak struggles snapping me out of my reverie. Her head was still locked tight against my thorax. I looked down at her again, raking my vision across her body which had been morphed by alien ideals. The strange, defective Fyrix. The one who loved that creature before her own kind. She didn't know. She couldn't tell what had happened to me.

Such a deficiency, but for a moment, I was back. I could smell the fear, and the deference, though she herself was wholly unaware of it. Three days wandering as a ghost, an invisible wretch which society must never deign to notice. And yet through the eyes of this Khyllar, I was seen. I was there again. My own fleet. Hundreds of whifts in my control. My thorax swollen with viraas, and the smell of [Nab] following my footfalls wheresoever I went...

I felt a great shame for taking solace in that fleeting moment, for clinging to those memoires and a reality which could never come again. I hated myself, and I hated how much she'd twisted my guts.

"N-Nestiri...?"

"Don't call me that!" I snapped at her, trying to keep my voice low. I tightened my arm around her neck, "What are you doing here...? I won't ask again..."

Zyrrs was silent for a while, but her emanations were wild and unruly. She was as clumsy and unrestrained as a nymph before their first molt, but with all the potency of an adult. She was struggling whether to tell me something or to keep it to herself. There was also an overpowering haze of spite. The sheer clarity of her inner turmoil was revolting. It inspired another surge of disgust. It was wrong that such a creature had touched my heart, even if all she'd done was show me just how broken it was.

"...Please!" She finally said, "Maybe you'll listen to reason...! I only had to do this because no one would listen to me!"

"That doesn't answer my question." I said, glancing at the door, "How did you get back here? I sent you away."

"You never rescinded your special authorization from my first visit! It was still valid for thirty days, and with full clearance!"

Now that was something. That kind of bookkeeping should've been taken care of by my whifts, but it was easy to see how such a minor clerical error could've slipped through, especially now that my whifts were scattered and disgraced.

"Why did you come back?"

"I-I think I've found a way to communicate with the Howler!" She grabbed at my arm, tugging gently to see if I'd let go, "I'm not talking about gestures, I've got his actual language, or at least enough of it. He's intelligent, you need to believe me!"

"I believe you." I said coldly.

She paused, then continued, "I didn't want to do this, but this was my only choice! No one was listening to me... Nestiri, I have a translator loaded onto a data rod in my coat!" She pointed, "If you give me access to the computer system, I could translate the files recovered from the vessel, as well as all the recordings. We might be able to take him in peacefully!"

I should've balked at the idea, but I'd seen too much. Zyrrs was probably telling the truth. She didn't smell of deception, and it's unlikely she would go through all this effort without anything to show for it. Besides, I'd seen first hand just how much she cares for it.

"So that's what you're after..." I pulled her closer, "You're trying to break into the computer system..."

"Nestiri, please! You need---!"

I yanked her backwards.

"Be quiet..." I said softly, flicking an antenna towards the door for her benefit.

We were in shadow, but the illuminated silhouette in the hallway was unmistakable as it passed. I felt her scared scent in my fronds as she stiffened, "Control yourself..." I rumbled close to her antennae, "They're more likely to smell you than hear you..."

"W-what...?"

"There's our lingering smells in the hallway... Let's hope they're not the inquisitive type..." I watched as the Fyrix outside passed by our room. They paused and flicked an antenna, but kept on and disappeared. Zyrrs let out the most [Poze] I'd ever smelled from one person, which was then followed by utter confusion.

"Nestiri...?"

I let go of her and she scrambled away. I considered playing along with her little misconception, living that wonderful lie if only for a while longer, but if I was that kind of Fyrix I wouldn't have gotten as far as I had.

"I told you not to call me that." I stood, checking my carapace for any cracks from her struggle, "If you're looking for succor, I'm afraid I won't be of much help anymore."

She stared at me as she slowly rose to her feet, and then came the flash of realization, "You mean...! They...! You...?" She pointed at me, her teasing finger wavering in the middle distance.

I thought about dragging her to the nearest enforcer and ending this. It would earn me a healthy amount of viraas, but not nearly enough to counteract the scourge that was my essence.

"Must I deign that with a response? The fact that you could not immediately tell is dismal." I picked some dust out of my joints.

"But why...?"

"My failure in my duty to the Fyrix. It's your failure too, but you're unworthy to bear such a punishment, and so it falls onto me."

"I'm sorry to hear that... Wow, that's... I can't even imagine."

"I take no solace in that."

"You were probably the most understanding Fyrix I'd met, despite our differences." She added ruefully, "Are you doing alright...?"

What an achingly stupid question, "It's what's been chosen for me. I've no cause to question it. It was decided by the Apex himself. The ceremony was the best anyone could've asked for."

"That's a load of rot and you know it!" She exclaimed, "I've read some of the polemics on the networks. Not even Central Command is immune to an adjustment. It sounds a lot like they let you take the fall just to preserve their precious prominence."

"The thoughts and feelings of the Apex and his retinue are not yours to even consider, Khyllar!" I rounded on her with the physical language she understood, "I'll not let you disgrace our culture any further!"

Zyrrs only stared at me, an unmistakable odor of pity emanating from her thorax. It was vulgar, but it was true to her heart. She could suppress, but she could never mask her true feelings with false ones like any Fyrix should. It gutted me. I wanted to strike her, send her to the floor and shatter this horrible mirror to pieces, but instead I let her go.

"You have no use for your viraas..." I turned away, not wanting to look at her any longer, "If you truly are sympathetic, then give it to me."

"Wow..." She rubbed her neck, "I never though I'd hear that. I feel like you would've sooner flown your entire fleet into the sun than ask for viraas from someone with sensillia artresia."

"I suppose you find that terribly amusing. You must be brimming with delight, seeing me dragged so low."

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" She showed her hands, "I just meant that it was weird... I would, but I'm sorry... I gave nearly all of it away to some manumit in the dregs just to get this far."

I wanted to burst into hysterics. It was so darkly hilarious that I couldn't fully suppress my emanations. The once great admiral couldn't even get virass from a Khyllar. That felt worse than anything I'd suffered on the streets.

"Wait..." Zyrrs continued after my continued silence, "If you're back to manumit then why are *you* here? You're not supposed to be here either, are you?"

"Don't conflate my noble actions with your common criminality, Zyrrs. Any action can be justified if the cause is righteous enough. The only sin would be to fail before it's complete." I looked her over, "And you're a terrible infiltrator."

"Well I'm sorry, but I don't have a lot of practice!" Zyrrs said testily as she smoothed out the creases left in her coat from our struggle, folding the sleeves back down to hide her disgustingly carved arms.

"You're trying to get access to the central computer system, correct? You think you have some way to communicate with the monster?"

"Yeah...!"

"And I suppose that means you've got some sort of plan for gaining access to a highly secured network with five layers of thorns? I can't imagine that you would go this far without something in mind."

"Y-yeah, I've got something."

Her involuntary emanations were dripping with guilt, but I didn't force the issue, "Last question... You think that this information would help you drag it out from the shadows?"

"Well, I can't be sure, but if we can speak with him, I'm hoping we can convince him to surrender peacefully..." She eyed me suspiciously, "Just what is it that you broke in here for...?"

I draped my arm over her shoulder, "It appears our interests align, Zyrrs. I want nothing more than to put an end to this charade; just like you."

I felt her antennae brush against mine as she turned her head to regard me. The fronds were soft, a wonder that such dysfunctional appendages could seem so normal from the outside. She hesitated.

"So you'll help me...?"

"We can help each other." I pulled her closer, "In order to communicate with it, you'll need to know where it is. The Howler could be anywhere in the bleeds. The Fyrix in command aren't able to use the usual tracking drones thanks to the field, but we've got satellites that can take images from above. You got an interface on you?"

"...Yeah?"

"Write this down. When you get into that system, enter 'root7e->bud5' and then access 'Archive_Root.'" I watched as she hurriedly pulled out her interface and started tapping it.

"Inside is a directory called 'Defense_Assets.' It will be filled with all sorts of things. Don't get distracted. Enter 'Orbital_Ops.' and inside you'll find 'ReconSat_Data.' That will give you a list of each orbital group. Search for Cluster 3A. That's the most likely to pass over that section of the planet. Anything interesting will be under 'Pass_Logs.' They've probably already been programmed to track the Howler, so you don't need to worry about searching through the raw images. Just exfiltrate that file on your way." I watched her fingers fly, "Did you get all that?"

"I think so..." She made some final taps into the glowing tablet, "It would be much easier if you'd just come with me."

"You're the one with access. Someone needs to stand watch..."

I was more than happy to let her incriminate herself on my behalf, but I wouldn't be caught dead assisting her. As bad as things were, they could always be worse. As a foreign national Zyrrs might find some clemency, but a transgression of this magnitude was enough to make me Threll, and from there could be no redemption.

"Phew..." Zyrrs said, borrowing an onomatopoeia which required organs she didn't even possess, "I'll have to admit, I was not expecting this. Thanks, Nestiri."

"For the last time; that's not my name." I released her, "I'm no longer entitled to any title of honor."

"Well I need to call you something!" She protested, "I can't do that whole scent thing... What if I just called you Admiral?"

I pushed her in the back and sent her stumbling towards the door, "We're wasting time. The terminal isn't far from here." I opened the door and flicked an antenna into the hallway, searching amidst the swirl of scents for any sudden bursts which might indicate the draft of a walking body.

Finding none, I slipped back into the hallway. The darkness of that room had made my ocular cusps darken, and so the bright light stung my eyes until they could adjust.

"Come along..." I said quietly.

* * *

"In there." Nestiri directed, "I'll stand outside. If anything goes bad, I'll knock twice, but don't expect any more than that."

It suddenly hit home just how stupid and dangerous all of this was, "Thanks..." I said, stepping in front of the doors.

They slid open and revealed the industrial guts of the terminal station. The dim light was cut with thousands of lights, winking in and out from the darkness. It wasn't a terminal designed for general use. It was for general maintenance and diagnostics of the data racks stored below. Even so, it was still attached to the main data stream, and that meant it could be persuaded to access much more than it should.

"It might be a while." I warned.

"This area is rarely used, especially with all the commotion above." He said, "In any case, I'm not as clumsy as you. If you manage to override the security, I recommend sealing the door behind you."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

I stepped inside. The terminal jutted out from the glowing core of the data stream that stretched into the ceiling. I sat down and faced the screen, willing it to life. I couldn't help but wonder about Nestiri as the machine spooled up. I knew the Fyrix were vindictive sometimes, but I couldn't believe that they'd thrown one of their own under the wheel like that. He seemed the same to me, if a little more on edge, but to the Fyrix, he'd lost everything and then some...

In any case, as strange as it was, it was heartening to have an ally. It was better than having him as an enemy. I rubbed the ache in my neck thoughtfully. The machine came on, and as much as it galled me, I entered my credentials. There wasn't anything I could do if I didn't even have the lowest level of access.

# Welcome back, DOCTOR_ZYRRS Galactic Standard Time is 43.726---a well-measured moment in the grand design! You are connecting from FYRIX_CENTRAL_AUTHORITY

# It has been 197.388 phases since your last access. The garden now flourishes with 12,876 active buds. 2 nodes pending recalibration. 74 roots have been trimmed. 5 nodes are in isolation pending integrity diagnostics.

# Current Status: 99.9946\%

# How does DOCTOR_ZYRRS wish to nourish our garden...?

It felt strange, coming so far. I could only hope this wasn't all for nothing. As far as I knew, the data on those drives were as worthless as the transcripts. Regardless, I typed in the same directory I'd accessed when I was still working under Nestiri. Unsurprisingly...

# bud_17 is protected under THORN_LEVEL_5 classification. Please insert sufficient clearance token in order to bloom this bud.

I readied the system spiker in one hand and the grafter in the other, "Here goes nothing..." I whispered to myself and then pressed it into the terminal's main artery. It screeched, lights flashing and power levels surging. Even the room itself started to shake. My heart raced as all sorts of colors screamed out from the dark. No one told me it would be so violent!

I rammed my grafter into the core and heard the tendrils whiz and whine on the microscopic level as they teased for weakness. The screen flickered, denying me access. I twisted the spiker, hitting another main vein. It started to smoke and I pushed the grafter in deeper. Denied... Denied...!

# GRAFTER DETECTED LOCKING GAR---

My heart stopped, everything narrowing to this singular point of failure, and just as soon as I'd started to write my own obituary, I heard a tiny ding.

# Token Recognized, DOCTOR_ZYRRS has been registered with THORN_CLEARANCE_5

I looked down at the grafter, glowing with a serene blue light as it sucked at the machines vitals like a parasitic organism. The room still whined and smoked and it took me a moment to snap back to reality. I yanked the spiker out of its entrails and froze with my arms still in the air.

The room went silent, the flashing colors settling down to dim points of light like stars in the night. The mechanical rumbling calmed to the soft humming of the airflow manifolds. I looked at the door despite myself and then typed into the terminal. I tested the directory, and sure enough, I had full access.

I opened up the archived data and mounted my interface, sending my personal files into the system. The reformatter was first. It took achingly long to work, but whatever it was doing, it seemed to work. Between this and the grafter, I was suddenly afraid of what kind of favors Dark would ask for in return. After this was over, I was determined to hang up my life of crime for good.

It finished, and in place of that sea of static was now a sea of strange characters. Most of it seemed corrupted, but it was difficult to tell which was which. I executed one of the built-in translation routines just to be sure this data wasn't from any known species. Unsurprisingly, there were no known matches. I flexed my fingers, and then typed in the command.

The recursive translation software Chaxa had made was achingly slow. I could only think of Nestiri out there in the hall as it progressed one pixel at a time. I rolled my fingers nervously, and when it finished I realized my face was butted right against the screen.

It ran with no errors or complications. This was it... I steadied myself, and then entered the unknown file, picking out the first thing I could read, the contents translated roughly into Fyrix...

"Recovered Log #1, 04-07-2083" I whispered to myself.

* * *

I folded my front four limbs, puzzling over the scraps on the table. I hardly registered the door to the common room sucking open.

"Hello, Quillion."

I looked up, already recognizing the quavering voice, "Greetings, Skrippik." I said to the Rhebb representative, "Say... which do you think looks better, this one, or this one...?"

She leaned in and tilted her porcelain head, "My dear Konoi, I believe that those are the same color."

I let out a commiserating chuckle, "Of course, sometimes I forget the limits of other races. This one is ever so slightly yellow, and this one has some chimril in it, a hyperviolet shade. Perhaps that is why you cannot tell. It's the withering season, and the yellow is the traditional color of choice, but I'm afraid it's too cliche. Chimril would leave an impact, but I'm afraid it has too much spleen..."

Skrippik drifted closer, her head wobbling side to side in a mechanical manner as she sat beside me, "You seem unbothered."

"On the contrary, after such an absence, it's imperative that my return is grand one. Already I've been gone long enough to see an entire fashion cycle live and die. Patience pays, as we say, but even so, it's got to be something worth waiting for. I'd like to make an impression that lasts a season at least."

She gave her strange, dolorous amusement, "I was talking about the situation up there..."

I sighed, feeling my fingers run through the fabric, "I know... It's just there's no use worrying about it. Whatever happens will happen with or without my consent, so might as well focus on myself and my own people."

"An admirable approach, but is it one really suited to the 15th seat...?" She tilted her head, which rattled a bit.

"There's nothing to even get between. Zharr's back on his home planet on 'important business in times of unprecedented crisis' and Ghor'Uim is locked in his quarters sending out enough encrypted data along the foldlines to warp an entire starship."

I levered back on my hind-limbs and stared at the ceiling. It was luxurious, but it was impossible to ignore what they were attached to. Perhaps it was mere propinquity, but it seemed more constricting than an actual cell.

"There's going to be war, isn't there?"

"So it seems." She said in her affected voice, "We're trying our best to talk them down, but if war breaks out, the Denurians are going to be devastated."

I looked at her with all eight eyes, utterly puzzled, "Why's that...?"

"With the Fryix involved, they're only going to be able to sell weapons to one side this time."

I brayed a disgusting, snorting laugh that left me wheezing. It was unfair for a race that sounded so mournful to have such a sense of humor. I buried my face in the cloth and muffled the sounds of my mirth. Finally I sighed and fanned myself with the piece of fabric.

"Oh my, I really shouldn't be laughing at such things..."

"Better to laugh than to drown." Skrippik said, producing some sort of straw from her cloak and threading it beneath her head. The porcelain face remained impassive as I watched a black fluid travel upwards.

"True enough... though I'm not sure that makes it any shallower." I grimaced at the stain I'd left in the fabric. Chimril it was, then.

The doors slid open again. An armored creature walked in, one of the council's honor guard. They were supposed to be impartial and completely neutral, but it was no secret that Nex was behind their entire organization.

"Quillion, Skrippik." He greeted us turn, and then saluted, "The inquisition's uncovered something, but we need a council member to officiate it. It's about 4,291 lights away in the deep space around the Khellus system."

Skrippik looked at me. She said nothing, but even in that petrified gaze, the implication was obvious. It was best a neutral party officiated it, and who was meant to be more neutral than the 15th seat?

"And I don't suppose there's any other volunteers...?"

"Unfortunately not, your majesty." He saluted again, "We've already prepared a vessel for you, and a variety of fabrics have already been loaded on board so that you may continue your work in transit.

Were we really that predictable...?

"Oh, very well..."