The Secrets' Crusade

:I have no wish to remember as they do,: Kalilah's voice answered first. The words dripped with anger and pain, yet there was no hint of the hate that you would have expected there before the Third Battle of Sol. :But we came here to understand, and to do that, we must see what happened here.:

:Agreed.: Iris sent, alongside a data set that gave the feeling of her nodding. :What they are, who they are, I think we could discover that from how they choose to remember. But I, we, need to see what they remember first. We know this is a memorial, to a race lost by their mistakes. But I think we need to see what that means, before getting closer to anything more personal.:

:Any other firm opinions?: You asked, only to receive a chorus of negation.

:Kalilah and Iris have the right of this,: Vega added. :And it should give them a place outside of Shiplord ceremonies, whatever they might be.: Agreement surged through the link, coloured by traces of hesitant thanks from Kalilah. That was enough for you.

:Alright,: you agreed. "We would witness," you told Yhelir, barely a second after they finished their question. They motioned, their physical cue for a nod, if your translation software was holding up.

"Of course," they turned, and one of their manipulators made a sweeping gesture, to move and follow. "Transit to one of the galleries is close by. Come." They completed their turn with effortless fluidity, then led you through the gate into the settlement beyond. The faintest touch of sensors swept over the party, but nothing reacted.

:Your work?: You asked Iris across a private connection.

:No,: she said, her reply carrying the form of a headshake, and then something more in the next words. :Nothing we needed to worry about.:

Your daughter had never been one for wasting words. A master of gestalts, she surely was not, but she was good enough. The scanners at the gate were a tagging system for internal use, nothing more, and far less than even skin deep. To compare that to the deeply suspicious nature of the Shiplords you'd met in battle was no easy feat. But, you forced yourself to admit, you had met them only in battle.

:The shield they cast around the entire star system might have something to do with it too,: Sidra pointed out dryly. :And that was only a tripwire, as far as any of us could tell.:

:True enough,: you agreed, before reaching back to Iris with a smaller gestalt of thanks and presence. Perhaps a touch of concern, too, though only for her safety.

:I'll be fine, mom,: she told you primly. :Pay attention.: That reproof did the job, directing your mind back to the world around you, still drinking in everything you could despite being absent for a few moments.

Yhelir had not been exaggerating when they'd told you that transit was close by. It had taken you barely a minute to reach a small, cleared space amidst the groups of Shiplords. Several platforms were descending towards it with some speed, even as the group before you stepped onto one of the cleared spaces.

A rippling field sprung up around them, and then the entire section of the ground lifted away, carrying the party of Shiplords up towards one of the two spires. You noted that there was no imprint left behind after the platform departed. That was quite impressive, given the complexities of flash-forging a sufficiently capable Fifth Secret manipulator.

"Here," Yhelir announced, stopping at the edge of another one of the spaces. "We hope that you will find what you seek in your gallery. Once you are satisfied, return here, and another of the Hearthguard shall see to your next requests. But please," they added, "do not feel the need to experience both paths in a single turning. Not all, nor even most, who walk this place on their first occasion carry through that. To know what was done here, and to remember it, both at once is not simple. But we leave that to you."

"Our thanks, Yhelir," Vega replied pleasantly, and for a moment it was hard not to wish them the same. She moved subtly within her Masque, an approximation of a nod, or a bow perhaps, it was hard to tell. "We shall remember those words on our return."

"Of course," something flickered between the Shiplord and the ground beneath you, a code sequence that Iris caught as easily as breathing. Then a layer perhaps three centimetres thick sliced away from the ground below, and the entire thing lifted smoothly away towards the nearer tower. There was no feeling of acceleration, and no EM readings either. Fifth Secret, and intimidating as hell.

Yet your attention was paid most to the small section of life risen from the dead silver all about, looking down to try and find patterns below. Some were obvious, the motions of the crowds, their steady movements in and out, around the central plaza of the memorial with solemn deliberation. Some groups standing like tiny islands within that sea of movement, brought together by some shared experience in that moment. Few lasted long, but they were there.

:That'll be helpful,: Elil pointed out, the Insight Focused having honed in on those pauses very quickly. :Means we won't look so damn obvious when something down there brings us all up short. Just hope that a gallery is as private as the way Yhelir said it implied.:

:Yeah,: you agreed. If there was one thing that you needed for this, for the initial encounter with whatever truth the Shiplords believed was here, privacy was it. Iris could give you a great deal of that, and she'd been linked into the security net since leaving the Adamant.

There were a good number of buildings around the central area, the core of remembrance taking place here, but they held the feel of pure utilitarianism. There was no grandiosity or arrogance about them, and any would have surely been held by the two towers, yet the feeling was somehow wrong. There was too much sorrow in those lonely pinnacles. You didn't realise why, first, though. That came from Vega, the Harmonial letting out a hiss of pain as recognition flashed out across the links between your Heartcircle, stumbling in place.

You reached out, catching her in the same moment as Kalilah and Elil, and flooding comfort down the link between you.

"What did you see?" You asked softly. The soft shapes of her Masque twisted into an expression of pain, and you tried again. "Vega, what's wrong?" Mir's hand joined your own as you asked – what had he been focused on? – and you felt the peace that was his very self reach out to Vega. That brought her back, her Masque reasserting itself as she gave a small shake of her head.

"This place," she whispered, in a way that made you wonder if you were being listened to. "The sorrow they hold for it. It's like ours, when we think of the Week of Sorrows, just impossibly older. That's why those towers feel the way they do. They're familiar. And they've never forgotten."

You felt Kalilah's soul stiffen, yet she fought it down to ask a question instead. "What could possibly have made this world so special?" She asked through tight lips, very clearly not continuing to ask what had made it different to humanity, or any number of other races the Contact Fleet had spoken of. Yet even that was more than you'd have expected from her, before her near-death at the Third Battle of Sol

"Not the world," Vega replied, and for a moment you could see her despite the Masque, staring out to the horizon with no thought in her usually so clever eyes. Feeling, not thinking. "Their message didn't ask us to remember the world. They asked us to remember the people that once called it home."

"How is that different?" Kalilah snapped, yet her heart wasn't in it, and once again that was odd. Not for the first time you found yourself regretting the lack of time before your departure, and how precious little of it had been free to spend working out who the elder Potential had become.

"We are not our worlds, Kalilah," Vega replied, undeterred. "We come from those places, but they are only our birthplace. If Earth was so important, then humanity could not live beyond its embrace. Here, the Shiplords seek to make the world a gravestone, but the symbol is less important than the meaning behind it. And it makes me wonder," she turned, her attention fixing on you.

"They felt pity for us, didn't they. When we faced them aboard the Calypso?" She asked, and you nodded.

"I am not sure what else it could have been."

"I believe," she said slowly, "that I may be starting to understand why."

"Then let's see if you're right," Iris suggested, the words drawing your attention towards the swift movement of the platform. "We're here."

All eyes turned to the tower as you approached, and as you watched the section of silvery wall ahead of you furled back with sinuous grace to reveal a small bay, several raised sections moving in to catch your platform as you landed.

:Why are they using moving parts?: Iris sent, the communication seeded with confusion. :We know that the Sixth Secret is mundane to them, and we've seen how effective it can be as a construction tool or medium. Why isn't this place using it?:

:I,: Elil broke off, his eyes sweeping across the bay as the platform slid to a perfect landing atop the extended manipulators. You could feel his Focus churning, working to help him find answers from even the barest of sources, yet what he did wasn't magic. He had to have at least some directing data to work with, and he had almost none.

:I can only imagine for some cultural purpose,: he continued, a handful of moments later. :There's no structural reason, but aesthetics in memorials matter to all the species we've met so far. The Shiplords, all other actions aside, have never seemed different in that regard.:

:But why would a more mundane construction be aesthetically pleasing?: Iris asked. :Look at the join lines, there are no seams there. Nanotech helped build this, I'm certain of it. How is…: she trailed off, shaking her head. :I know it doesn't have to, but this doesn't make any sense.: The energy around the platform fell away, leaving it to settle fully onto the extended supports.

:Maybe their gallery will help us understand,: Mir suggested. :It's better than trying to work it out on our own.: He stepped off the transport onto the strip of silver alloy which formed a dock, and made his way quickly down towards a recess in the otherwise featureless wall.

:Mir's right,: Vega agreed, though she moved slower than the pale Peace-Focus had done, as if the place might suddenly sprout fangs and bite her. You could sympathise. Despite, or in fact because of, her natural advantages as a Harmonial, Vega was far more vulnerable than you to resonance within the web. In comparison, Iris reached the recessed doorway almost before Mir despite leaving the transit pad after him. She reached forward, and you felt something pass between her and the door the moment before it snapped open. Then she was through, and you rushed to follow her.

The room that awaited you defied all expectations. You'd thought after seeing the featureless structures raised high that the Shiplord trend to featureless utilitarianism might extend all the way to their interior design. The landing bay had certainly supported that view. This room, the gallery Yhelir had spoken of, was anything but.

Water pooled on one side of the chamber, stretching all the way to the window that dominated the entire outer facing wall, and a carpet of blue-green plant life spread out from its life-giving sustenance. Furry-looking columns of yellow and orange rose towards the ceiling, the spoke for wheels of what on earth might have been the branches of a tree. The scents of alien wildflowers swirled around you, translated through your Masque without ever touching you. And at the centre of it, a lone weave of silver caged a pattern of light at the centre of the artificial glade.

You stared, then immediately reached out with your other senses, searching for any trace of illusion. There weren't any. This was, somehow, real. And it made the dichotomy of what lay beyond the viewing portal hit all the harder. The stifling sorrow was one thing. The silver desert stretching out to the horizon with nothing to hide it was something else, especially with you surrounded by such a display of hidden life. You took a step towards the window, trying to bridge the gap inside, yet afraid to reach too deeply. You couldn't risk losing yourself to the pain here.

"What the-" Vega began, as she entered the room last, only to be cut off by the door sliding shut. An instant later the light at the centre of the room swept up into an image of a Shiplord, their Masque drawn back around their upper body, and for the very first time you had a face to put to the race that had killed so many.

It was hard to not find some similarities. For whatever reason, the Shiplords had evolved as bipeds with a highly expressive facial structure. Why exactly they usually hid this beneath a layer of nanotechnology was still unknown, though Insight did know that it allowed them to sculpt their own biology. If not for the lack of nose and eyes so bright they almost shone, this particular Shiplord could have looked almost human.

"Welcome, travellers," they greeted you, and a note pinged across the net to confirm that this was a recording play. How Iris had checked so quickly you didn't know, but you weren't going to complain. "To this gallery. Around you lies a living memory of all that was ended when the Zlathbu died, reconstructed from post-Contact survey files. My grant-name is," a mix of syllables that translated to something like an archivist, or perhaps Recorder, "Kymri. I was one of the first Hearthguard to walk this world, and build this place."

"Come, sit," they gestured at the spaces laid out around the projector. "And I will tell you of our failings, that cost of those who could have been so much more."


It began as your own story had, with a young race discovering the Secrets, and the Shiplords coming to chastise them. You saw tightening faces as the world around you fell away, swooping back to show the entire star system, one gifted with twelve planets and two asteroid belts. Life grew upon the second world, which you recognised as the one upon which you stood. Yet none of that was seen by the Shiplords, until the Zlathbu discovered the First Secret.

"We came, of course," Kymri said, yet their face seemed as drawn as your own, and markers for something very close to disgust flared high within the manner of their words. "To find those who had opened a way between the stars, and to ensure they would never be able to harm them."

"Once it might have been different," they sighed, "but not now. Now the Tribute Fleet came, passed down our directives and a lesson of pain, and then left again. A world expertly crushed, so it was thought, like so many that had come before it."

To Witness Again: 74 – 30 (Scars of the Sorrows) + 15 (A World Worth Saving) = 59. Minor Success

You looked away then, trusting Sidra to listen for anything of value as the events played out around you. Your focus turned to Kalilah, who had taken a place beside you, her hands shaking as they ran through the carpet of life below her. Sparks of crimson spun between her fingers, the primal destruction that had served among humanity's most deadly weapons in the Second and Third Battles of Sol. A single touch of those, meant with intent, could have shattered the tower around you. And yet, even as the history so close to her own trauma played out before her eyes, she didn't move.

Instead her eyes stayed fixed on the image of Kymri, drinking in everything the Shiplord said, and everything they didn't. They spoke not a word of necessity, accepting in full the weight of the moral horror of their race's actions – inasmuch as any who let it happen could – and offering no excuse. Yet their face turned what would be pale in a human as the tale moved to the action of the fourth Tribute Fleet to visit the Zlathbu.

"Only one Collector was able to win far enough from the trap sprung upon them to successfully launch courier drones. Of those drones, only the two that fled into the space between stars survived long enough to charge their FTL drives. Despite their successes, that was a Directive that the Zlathbu did not break." They said, and the projection of the star system around you shifted. The asteroid belts flickered away, and the planets closest on each side to the Stellar Exclusion Zone for FTL bleached to silver. The same silver as the lifeless metal desert that covered the world upon which you stood.

"They had become adept in the workings of the Sixth Secret, so much so that they had developed a way to nullify the disruptors of the Tribute Fleets. When the Tribute Fleet approached the stellar exclusion zone of the star, passing close to one of the planets in search of battle with their fleet, they revealed the fruits of three generations of labour." Off to your left, the planet closest to the Tribute Fleet fractured, and silver tendrils boiled out through the seams, sucking away what little colour remained as they came. The metallic sheen swept out, wider and wider, the converted mass of an entire world reconfiguring into a vast net. And as the Tribute Fleet began to react, the planet before them, where the Zlathbu fleet had arrayed itself, underwent a similar transformation.

"Two of their system's twelve worlds, converted completely into highly sophisticated nanoforms that could nearly match the speed of Tribute Fleet vessels, and deployed in as close to a perfect ambush as the movements of planets made possible. The Tribute Fleet did all it could to escape, but in the end, we received only the two drones. And in the scans their doomed motherships had taken before being destroyed, we found a threat that we could not allow."

Kymri looked down, the expression far too human for your comfort despite how natural it looked. Perhaps that was the worst part of seeing the true face of your enemy. "Their nanoforms, given time, had the potential for limitless growth. None of us here today believe they set out to create them as a weapon, but their potential as one, now that it had been released, could not be allowed."

"In those times, there was a considerable movement still to return to what we had been, with the Directives secured against any repetition of the Hjivin Sphere. The Zlathbu had violated none of the Directives, instead stumbling upon a combination of factors without our knowledge that could threaten everything. So I, and others among the Hearthguard, prevailed upon the Authority to order High Command to pursue a campaign of containment instead of destruction."

In the project, the sleek forms of Regular Fleet vessels moved in around the star system, and the flickering presence of War Fleet ships moved to the edge of the star system, flanked by the flickering presence of War Fleet craft. "It was our hope that we might find a solution in diplomacy."

"Unfortunately," Kymri's tone soured, "the Tribute Fleets had learnt to do their jobs too well. Defiance and fear for their survival made the Zlathbu absolutely certain that we would immediately attack them if they lowered their defences. Looking back, it's possible that we could have fought harder against the visible deployment of Regular Fleet units, but hindsight makes the best of us look blind."

"With ships seemingly poised to obliterate them, and fear driving continued defiance, we begged for common ground. Some way that we could begin the long, slow process of building trust with a race that had been savaged by our own fears of what might be." The vision around you shifted again, showing what appeared to be recordings of diplomatic exchanges, all via lagless communication, and all ending in failure. A movement on your other side brought your attention to Iris, to find her staring with a similar intensity to Kalilah's at your narrator. And yet, even with the Masque hiding it, you could feel the tears running down her cheeks.

:Iris?: You sent delicately, spinning as much warmth and care into the message as you could. She never once looked away from the display.

:These recordings they're showing us, there are transcripts embedded in the projection. I can see them. And they go on for almost fifty years.: Your daughter replied haltingly. :Maybe it's fake, all an illusion, but after what you and Vega felt do you really think it is?:

You looked back at the projection, at the pain your translator – one built from Project Insight's discoveries and not Shiplord databases – made obvious in every line of the Shiplord's musculature. You stretched out your senses into the web around you, running the fingers of your soul carefully across a weave of pain and sorrow so ancient that the walls pulsed with its presence. And you remembered one of the few truths that Tahkel had been permitted to grant you by the other Uninvolved. That no matter their skill in other matters, the Shiplords had no ability, nor skill, in Practice.

:This story isn't over yet, Iris,: you sent back, forcing yourself to balance what you might hope for and what could still be revealed. :The transcripts might be true, this Shiplord and some like them might have tried. But if they did, they failed. And how they failed, how they explain it, that matters too.:

:What if they just ran out of time?: Iris asked, and you felt the pain of that question twist in your daughter's soul. :They said that they were able to-: she cut off suddenly, as the images around you faded back into a slowly turning vision of what had once been the star system. And Kymri's bearing swung to an awful solemnity.

"Yet despite everything, all the promises we won from the Authority, we could not defeat the fear that our people's first visit to the star had inflicted. And through it all, the Zlathbu continued to build, spreading their nanoform out across their entire star system." World after world vanished from the display as she spoke, breaking apart to release swarms of silvery nanotech that swirled within the boundaries of the star system.

"Every attempt to moderate their actions seemed to only drive them on, seeing the next boundary broken as the next step on the path to freedom. For cycle after cycle we fought to prevent pre-emptive action, matching our reason and hope against the possibility of threat. Eventually, inevitably, we failed."

Silver lanced up from the core of the lonely brown dwarf in the outer reaches of the star system, spreading with terrifying swiftness through its stormy clouds. Yet this mass did not join the vast swarm scattered across the star system, instead hurling itself inwards, towards the system's star.

"The Zlathbu began to construct a scaffold around their star, something that could only be the beginnings of a stellar collector." On the display, arcs of nanomaterial formed around the system's sun. "After the War of the Hjivin Sphere, where similar constructions were used so brilliantly against us, this proved too overt an action for our words to protect them. The Authority voted in full session, and the Zlathbu were handed an ultimatum: dismantle their construction or have it removed. To them, it was proof that everything we'd said up to that point had been lies."

"They fought, of course," Kymri continued, and the world around you shifted again, flicking between footage of battle after ancient battle. Images of Tribute Fleets matching themselves against the Zlathbu's brilliant tool, now turned entirely to the pursuit of war and lashing out from the safety of the Stellar Exclusion Zone. "But they knew only the first two of the Admiralty's fleets."

Weapons fire sprung from empty space around vast tendrils of nanotechnology, Sidra catching the flickering traces of War Fleet jumps behind them. Gravitic shear ripped through the undulating manipulators, devastating sections the size of continents. Against a nanomass so many times larger, it was less than a drop in the bucket, but as you watched the core project speed through month after month, the truth of the Shiplords' superiority in weaponry and logistics started to tell.

"It took years, of course," your narrator said, "but the outcome was never truly in doubt. The Zlathbu lacked First Secret drives, and without a stellar collector they could not sustain their nanomass against us. Eventually, they were forced to pull from their scaffold. First some," the scaffold shrunk, though it was barely noticeable, "and then more, as the needs of what they believed to be immediate survival overrode longer term plans."

"And when it was done, we made our offer again. They still possessed a vast concentration of nanomass, but their scaffold was gone, and they could not rebuild it even with the mass of their homeworld added to the mix. So we tried, and were granted a final chance. If the Zlathbu would disassemble the weapon they had created, and purge all details of its construction, we would withdraw in full and leave them to what future they wished to chart."

The figure looked down, uttering a sound that would have been a human's deep sigh. "They refused. And the worst thing is, I don't think we'd have acted any different, had we been in the same situation. We pride ourselves on our understanding of the world around us, but I wonder if that fixation, that which gave us the name we treasure, blinds us to something just as important." A twist of head and the shell about them followed quickly, a headshake and yet also more.

"So they refused, leaving the Authority with only option available to them. A War Fleet was tasked to escort and then deploy a stellar disruptor," the ship which materialised in the outer system was one no human had every truly seen, but you recognised its profile. That of a Shiplord starkiller. "And, as ever, that War Fleet succeeded."

Light bloomed at the heart of the star, an awful beauty representing the premature death of another of the fusion engines which had given every living creature known to humanity the ability to exist. How many had the Shiplords destroyed? Hundreds? Thousands? Around the single remaining world, the entire nanomass seethed, compressing down and down upon itself as if it could physically shield a world from the death throes of a murdered star. Then the light washed over it, over all of you, and then you were sitting once again amid an alien garden, the image of Kymri standing tall at its centre.

One of the projection's manipulators rose, extending towards the viewing portal. "When the blast wave passed, we found this world as it is today. Exactly what the Zlathbu's creation did is a matter for academics, but it's clear that it was trying to protect them. If we added another species to the dreadful tally our race has reaped upon reality, we don't know. On our return to the star system after the blast wave had passed, a full survey confirmed that none of the nanomass remained active."

"But in its last act, it created what you see beyond this gallery. A perfect sphere of burned out nanotech, wrapped around its creators' homeworld in a futile attempt to protect it. We failed the Zlathbu, we failed ourselves, but in this place we saw a chance to make that failure mean something." Again, the manipulator indicated the viewing pane.

"I led a battlegroup in the War of the Hjivin Sphere. I know from bitter experience the cost of allowing races to explore the Secrets without the far more restrictive Directives we give today. But when we began down this road, we weren't trying to be sovereigns. It was hoped that this place would add to the other hidden stars of the Hearthguard, to remind us of the question that I cannot believe we have found the proper answer to. To speak out, as I do now, that here lies the final resting place of a species that deserved freedom, not death. And to remember that it was our failing that led to the latter."

And with that, the projection burst apart into motes of light, that spiralled up to form a message in Shiplord script.

:It's a menu,: Iris recognised it first, her mental voice a little hoarse. :There are: your daughter paused, her masque flickering. :Historical files detailing their actions here. Recordings, testimonies, even diary entries from those involved in the action here. Elil,:

:Could use this to verify what the recording outlined?: You asked the Insight Focused, jumping on the question you were certain Iris had been about to ask. The dark-skinned man considered the question, before signalling a hesitant affirmation.

:I believe so,: he replied, the words gaining confidence as he sent them. :I can't give absolute certainty, but if this is all there, I can come close. Should I start now?:

And that was the question, wasn't it. You could, of course, remain here with those who would prefer not to venture beyond the tower, and view more records. Perhaps Iris would be able to discover why she hadn't been able to find any of the files stored here in the security network she'd subverted? Or you could leave some of your fellows here, and seek out the memorial between the towers in hopes of seeing how Shiplords today chose to remember the words you'd just heard. Though there was a danger there, if the memorial was not truly respected.

What do you do?
[X] Remain, and view further recordings – Opens up specific social interaction with Iris and Kalilah, as well as general interaction with those others who remain behind.
[X] Return with a small group to the memorial below, and seek out what it is to Remember – Continues to the other side of this place's spiritual relevance. Opens up possibilities to interact with a Shiplord civilian.