Heaven Was A Fortress (Built In Heavens CYOA Inspired Quest)

You glare down at the hologlobe.

Your opponent smirks in condescending superiority.

Within the globe simulating your graduating battle, his fleet encircles the remaining core of your shattered forces, the escape of your final dreadnought impossible. You can hear your fellow classmates muttering about it, already having come to the conclusion that you have lost. The teacher looks ready to call the match.

You smirk. Your opponent's grin drops.

Your dreadnought detonates it's drive core.

The amphitheater erupts into chaos as your sacrificial titan tallies in a total kill count that nearly equals the sum total of your foes' remaining forces, leaving what few ships he had left unable to escape your scattered net of 'displaced' ships.

Victory… has never tasted quite as sweet as it does now.


Confirmed. Final Score was 661/666, a new record. Shall we continue with the plan as outlined?

…

Confirmed. Sending Allocation Requests as dictated.

Your name is Anastasia Morev. And in the Great Empire where Names are everything, having two sets you apart from the rest.

The average citizen didn't have a Name. They have a Number. In order to gain a Name, one had to achieve something great, or inherit it from their ancestor. Having two names like you? It is almost unheard of. Those who did had either inherited one of their Ancestor's names and then earned a new one on top of it… or had done something so world shaking that not one but two higher Nobles had decided they earned such from their actions.

You have done none of these things. And so, by having a Name, you are expected to do the impossible. To achieve something capable of causing waves across the whole of the Empire. And that pressure has shaped you since the day your Father had pulled you from the Sanskrit Ruins.

Once, years ago, when you first accepted induction into the Fleet Academy, you had asked him where your names came from. And he told you.

"They were the only data we could draw from the capsule you were incubated within. Whether or not they were intended for you I do not know, but either way they were there just as you were, which is why I chose to request they be bestowed upon you. You are the only living example of your entire species in the known galaxy. And if my guess is correct… yours were the Great Ones that granted life unto us Lessers. Upon your shoulders is not only the unknowable legacy of those who came before you, but quite possibly the legacy of the entire Empire as a whole."

It weighs on you, for the Great Builders were the race that came before all others. No-one knows where they went or what happened to them, but their works are legion. Their works can be found even at the furthest reaches of the known galaxy. And the touch of their works can be seen even within the very cellular structures of those that walk it's lanes.

And that, among many other reasons, is why you stand out wherever you go. At a measly one hundred and eighty three centimeters, you are positively tiny compared to the average two hundred and fifty of the 'Lesser Great Ones' who you live among.

You feel perpetually tiny, and your lack of fur makes you feel ugly and deformed, even if you know for a fact that's only because of the nature of your existence while being raised among a species that based beauty on the luster of their fur. Which is also why your hair is so long, an unconscious attempt to 'blend in' with your peers. To have something desirable about yourself.

The doors to your Father's throne chamber snap open with a hydraulic hiss.

"The Lady Anastasia Morev!"

The Barker's announcement of your presence is more than enough to kill all conversation within the Chamber. Thankfully though, today is a small audience of only five Lords instead of the dozens that normally grace this hall. You see your Father, Lord Sage upon his throne. At his feet are Lord AT-443, Lord AU-444, Lord AV-445, Lady BD-313, and Lady BB-111. While you could guess why the first four are present, the reasoning for BB-111 is beyond you for a simple fact: she wasn't even under your Father's command. In fact, she was actually ranked higher than him on the Imperial pecking order-

Oh. Thinking of it like that, the reason she is here is to get her hands on you.

As a Potential Builder -never mind inheriting two names- you make for what amounts to a potential political singularity. And that was because… well.

"Father, I apologize for interrupting your meeting, but I was told you wished to meet me upon arrival."

"Yes, Morev. I wished to speak about your future prospects with my current guests, but-"

"We happen to be out of time," Lady BB-111 interrupts your Father. An incredibly rude action that she gets away with either because time actually is that short, or because she's here on behalf of someone with the political clout to afford said insult. "I shall take your words with me back to Lord Mustafa. Negotiations will likely continue in the near future."

"By all means," your Father growls out, and with the dismissal BB-111 strides out of the chamber with an arrogant sway. As she vanishes beyond the door, he sweeps an arm out to the Lords and Lady that remained. "The rest of you are dismissed as well. You have your orders."

AT-443, AU-444, AV-445, and BD-313 all bow to your Father and take their own leave. The throne chamber felt suddenly empty from their departure. Sighing, the tension leaks out of your Father's shoulders and he seems to shed centuries in moments, suddenly looking only a few decades old, rather than his actual age of six hundred and seventy-three. "I am sorry you had to see that, My Little Beast." He steps down from the plinth that his throne rests upon, long strides and clacking claws of his feet eating the distance in moments.

You sink into his fur as you both embrace each other. The warmth more of a welcome home than the sight of the palace from the space port had ever been.

"It's alright Father." You bask in the sense of love his warmth gives you for several seconds before separating. "Father I… I must ask, why were you-?"

"Using the Builder Words?" He asks you with a grin. "Because it is customary to speak to those above your station in the greatest language you can… and nothing is above the Builder Words."

"But… aren't the translations incomplete?"

"They were… until you revealed that it was one of the things downloaded into your mind." And there's the kicker. The reason you are such a political singularity. You knew the language of the Great Builders. You could read their words without a decade of study for every line found. Among the designs for structures, weapons, and technology, this is the most important blessing bestowed upon you by whoever placed you within that Capsule.

The Builders are the ancient bedrock that the galaxy has been constructed upon. Their technology has allowed the myriad races scattered across the stars to become what they are. Their grand mausoleums are the seats of power that even the arrogant bow before. A single piece of technology held within it the potential to shake the balance of power the galaxy over… and you had the knowledge required to easily access said technology.

Your existence was and is the potential stepping stone capable of launching even obscure noble houses to the heart of the Empire. If not the potential to allow them to supplant the Emperor himself. Which is why the Empire's Takers are intent upon you.

And your Father was using that knowledge to subtly insult someone who was the messenger of someone else with the power to get away with insulting him. "Father…" You sigh in exasperation, "that was childish and you know it. Why?"

"That beta Mustafa wants me to give you to his son as his plaything, even if you can't bear him pups." Your Father's good humor drains from his face, replaced by a look of someone who has seen too much stupidity in their life, his hand coming up to massage his muzzle. "I… refused. He wants your knowledge for his House and refuses anything less than capitulation. Especially after you started to humiliate his son at the Academy."

"Wait, I humiliated him? But… I didn't go out of my way to antagonize anyone…" Which is the honest truth. If anything you had tried too hard not to antagonize anyone, to the point of intentionally flunking tests until one of your teachers—an old war dog known as ZZ-9057661—had publicly tricked you into outing yourself during recreational hours. Though you had no clue how the old dog had managed to even catch you to begin with, or any of your subsequent attempts to downplay your abilities.

Being almost two thousand years old had probably made the bastard prescient or something. Dagenruff resistance to psionics be damned.

"You didn't," your Father barks happily, "in fact you were so unaggressive that he came to the conclusion you were ignoring him." You pale as that fact sets in. "So you consistently locking him into second place in the rankings instead of allowing him to take first ruffled his fur something fierce."

Second…? You groan. AD-331 was the classmate you had a supposed "rivalry" with during your entire Academy career. Or at least you did after your teacher forced you to use your full abilities all the time. He was also the one that you had completely crushed during the final exam by dropping eighty percent of his fleet into Hellscape by detonating your dreadnought's drive core. The thought that he was… "Father I am so sorry. I never-"

"It is alright Morev." He cuts you off by placing a hand on your head and ruffling your hair. "We shall speak about it later. For now though, we have something else to do. Namely, I've heard you were given a command."

"Yes I was… but isn't it strange? No one has ever been given a command straight out of the Academy before. It's unusual in the extreme and-"

"It's fine Little Beast." Your Father waves off your concerns with disturbing ease, and stalls the conversation slightly as he leads you out of the throne chamber to somewhere else in the citadel. "I received word shortly after the graduation ceremonies. Officially, you're being given your command because there has never been anyone in its history that has managed to score like you have. Ever. Legitimately or otherwise… but with Mustafa's actions, I have come to the conclusion it is a conspiracy by him and his to set you up for failure, to make it easier for them to claim you and force you to vanish into the Darkness."

That was the greatest fear you've faced since your graduation. That all of this was one massive conspiracy to ruin you and your Father's House. An elaborate ploy to make your achievements look like the childish things they should have been: something only attainable within the controlled environment of the Classroom, instead of signs of the second coming of the Admiral of Admirals.

"Regardless, I managed to contact an old friend of mine and was able to gain permission to assign your first mission." An old friend… he couldn't mean-? "His Highness Nike agreed with me to allow you to undertake the Hunt with your new Command."

This time you stumble, almost falling flat on your face from the surprise. "Eh?!?!" Your Father reaches up to massage an abused ear as the echoes of your shil squeal fade. "But no one in our entire House has ever managed to find the God Vessel since Founding! How did you manage to convince the Prince to-?!"

"I found your notes."

Four words is all it takes for your Father to knock the air from your sails completely. "But… those notes could be wrong." You feel yourself deflate, because you know exactly which notes he's talking about. A decade ago, when you were little more than a pup with a dream, he had told you of your House's Great Mission as dictated by the Founding of the Empire: The Hunt.

Most specifically, the Hunt for the Builder's last great God Vessel.

It has been whispered about in data stores recovered from across the galaxy. A grand monster that could eclipse the stars themselves. A horror whose existence left even the bravest heroes of the Empire cold with the chills of their inevitable mortality.

The seeking of it had broken other Houses. Entire battle fleets gone, lost to the Hellscape and worse. Wars fought, won, and lost. Species purged from the galaxy to pave the way in their bloodied corpses. Empires shattered to fuel the Journey with their eviscerated treasuries. It was your Family's last Great Charge. The one that had led to it being given Lordship over the Southern Reaches. A backwater nowhere realm on the edge of the galaxy that your Grandfather's Grandfather had been driven mad to control in hopes of following the last faded trail of it's passing.

"They are the best lead we've had in a generation." You Father counters, a familiar fervor in his voice you haven't heard in years. "And most of all they make sense!" He grabs you by your shoulders, massive hands almost as large as your torso wrapping around you enough to force you to face Lord Sage. "We came to rule the Reaches on shakier grounds than a potential star map calculated from the failures of five generations! A star map that points to a place here! Within the Reaches!" Each emphasized word was punctuated by a slight shake of your body as your Father trembles at the thought that his Great Grandfather had been right.

Your own studies, mixed with the arcane knowledge that had been locked away within your mind, mixed with a fascinated combing of your family's history, had given him this. Your ancestor, the last Lord Sage, had been driven mad by The Search. Dragging what had originally been a Nomadic Noble House from one edge of the Empire to the other in his wild hunt. Who had started wars on the slimmest chance of finding just a little more information on the God Vessel's location.

A search that had ended when he spent what little good will he had left with the Empire to secure an iron hold over the Southern Reaches that even to this day was considered little more than a backwater nowhere. Barely even fit for resource gathering. And he died with the Empire believing he had doomed his house to an ignoble end, something that had them all pitying your Father for to the point they had given him his mad ancestor's name. Sage. A wise man.

"My Father and Grandfather scoured the Reaches their entire lives. Going from star to star one at a time until there was nothing left…" Your Father finally releases you, sighing in such a way that reminds you how old he is despite his youthful features. How old your family is. "This mad quest is all I have to give you, Anastasia Morev." Your alien name comes out deformed by his teeth, but that he says it tells you how much this means to him. "Even if it's a long shot. Even if it comes up empty… we owe it to those who came before us to try. Even if it's all I can do to turn a potential flag against you to a lost cause."

Even if it means I lose whatever I have left for you, are the words you know he meant to say, but doesn't. You Father is a great man, who had taken the desiccated remains of your house and turned them into something the rest of the Empire found respectable. Even after your Mother and Brother both died to the destruction of the GE1-KN-DF4G before you had ever known they were to be known.

"... I'll do what I can," you softly promise. And for a moment you know for a fact it's one you intend to keep. "I'll find it. I'll find the God Vessel." Hope and despair war in your Father's eyes, but he does not hesitate to hug you once more.

It is in the warmth that you had grown up with, the feel of his soft fur around you as his kind voice tells you stories of those who had built the Empire, that you feel your desires crystalize into adamantium.

You will find the God Vessel. No matter how many souls you have to damn in order to do so.


Ecstasis—supposedly the original Builder Name for the colony—is less a proper colony and more a world-spanning network of shipyards that catered to the needs of the Southern Reaches, Attikan Expanse, Stardust Sector, and Helgast Border Worlds. Millions of vessels came to and from this world on an almost daily basis, ferrying everything from raw material to entire legions.

It is also where your Ancestor's vessel, the LC-U9 God Seeker has been moored for the last five hundred years.

The world's atmosphere turns the system's blue star green from the surface, while the light almost constantly flickers from the passage of vessels above everything. The most striking thing though, is the press of bodies.

With a total population of nearly five hundred billion, spread across its surface city-yards and the orbiting drydocks, Ecstasis' had almost fifteen times as many lives attributed to it than the Southern Reaches' Throneworld. Which meant you got barely six feet before almost being swallowed by the oppressive mass of fur despite your obvious station and three power-armored guards.

"This is humiliating."

"I think it's fun."

KL-0909090909 has officially been your personal guard ever since you were eight and snuck onto the Royal Guard training grounds. Unofficially, she's been your best friend since you and her got into a fight the year before and little seven year old you stabbed her in the eye with a knife and she threw you out of a window.

KL sighs in exasperation even as you duck between another group of workers that are guiding a hover lift through the crowds. "At this rate we're going to be late. I told you we should have taken a Lifter to the dock, but you just had to insist on taking the footpath."

"It's not even a kilometre to the dock," you chastise her. Stopping for a moment at a tiny stall half-hidden in an alley to snatch up a pair of glittering ear-stones to display for her opinion… you find yourself deflating at her unimpressed one-eyed stare. "Really? Dammit KL, can't you relax just a little? Chances are we won't be home for years. This isn't going to be like my time at the Academy where I could take a week off every few months to visit…"

The white-furred woman grunts in understanding. "And you want to put it off without actually putting it off. I know Morev. It's just… part of me wants to get this over and done with. Not to insult you or your Family, but I can't help but see this entire expedition as a lost cause. And I don't want to watch you throw your life away to some impossible goal that has no end point."

You visibly droop, whatever enthusiasm you had been clinging to in the face of the coming years fading before her words like morning dew beneath the sun. "It's alright KL." Quietly, you turn back in order to pass payment to the stone hawker for the gems. A soft thank you is barely heard as you and KL return to the stream of pedestrians. "I know everyone sees the goal of my House as impossible and disparages us for trying to complete it. But… it's our Purpose."

Every Noble House in the Empire was founded with a Purpose in mind at the dawn of the Great Expansion. Whenever a new Noble House was founded, it was given a Purpose to fulfill. To focus their efforts upon. For some, it was the conquest of a stretch of space. For others, it was a grand construction project. For others still it was an Answer to be found.

For yours, it was a Goal to Find.

Over the millennia, nearly all of the Noble Houses had completed their goals, or had annihilated themselves trying. And some… had simply given up. Surrendering their titles in favor of fading into the faceless masses that were the lifeblood of the Empire. Of these "Lost Cause" houses, yours was the only one that had been declared such but had refused to give up on it. Said stance had reduced your ancestors into laughing stocks of the nobility to the point your Father's expedition to Sanskrit and it's Builder ruins had been considered a cosmic joke even after it divulged you.

You refused. As your Great Grandfather before you, you refuse to be ridiculed. The God Vessel was important to more than just the Empire, it was the blazing flag the entire galaxy needed! "I'm sorry KL, but I can't give up. And you know why."

Father was the last blood member of your House. When he dies, it would be Annihilation, which would leave you to be used as a toy for the hundreds of Noble Houses that vied for supremacy throughout the Empire. And that you could not condone.

It was-

"Morev, is that actually you?!"

Your train of thought brutally derails itself at a new voice.

Soft, luscious fur that hides hard rippling muscles is the first thing you recognize. Brilliant blue eyes that seemed to glow framed by a short but firm muzzle filled with brilliant white teeth that belay an easy grin. AD-331 was just as devilishly handsome as he had been when you utterly crushed him back in the Academy.

"AD-331! What…" Are you doing here? Is what you want to ask, but find caught in your throat. A panicked glance is all you need to immediately learn that KL has abandoned you to the social battlefield of your station as she quickly steps off to the side at AD's approach.

"Morev, I heard immediately after I got home to Jericho. If I had known that my coming in second to you would have angered my Father that badly then I…"

"No, no! It's ok." Dear lord, he's getting closer. AD-331 was taller than your father and even broader, which made him just as overwhelming as that sounded. His jovial personality doing little to lessen the impact of being the largest person you've ever met.

"Regardless, when I wrote my mother about my inability to get your attention, I didn't think he'd take it the way he did…" Wait, he was what? So this wasn't about- "So when the potential postings were listed, I immediately jumped on the chance to be your Second!"

… Oh Builders dammit. The most handsome member of your academy class is now your Second. On one hand you were ecstatic to have him… on hand, while on the other you are now going to have your first and only ever crush perpetually standing within arm's reach. Interspecies fraternization laws be damned, Hell was a destination and you are on a one way ticket to it.

"I- you- this-" And now KL was cackling, the bitch. "W-why would you choose…?!"

"To be honest, I always wanted to best you. No one else in the Academy could even come close to winning against me during the Tests, and most of the actual captains I've Tested against couldn't give me a real challenge." AD-331 shrugs, visible muscle rippling underneath his coat of fur that his uniform does little to actually hide or distract from. "If I had to be someone's second in command, I'd rather be taking orders from someone that's actually better than me than… that fucker that thought feeding his fleet to me piecemeal was a good idea."

This was… to be honest you've had dreams that started like this, but it was usually him as the one in charge and giving you orders of the deviant kind. Being his captain though…

You find that thought to be oddly appealing. AD-331 was the second best in the entire school, but saying that was like saying 'and the Builders were greater than the Empire'. Something that, while accurate, didn't really do the lesser of the two true justice. His final score, while a pale shadow of yours, was still higher than a third of the rest of the Class' combined. And his lowest grade had been in Space Combat, where yours had been Ground Combat which had been his highest grade.

God dammit, the more you think about it the more legitimate reasons you had to accept his posting beyond the eye candy. If anything, by now that was practically icing on the beefcake.

"... Alright." you sigh in defeat, "but before I accept, I want to know if you're sure. My… mission is to hunt the God Vessel, so chances are we're not going to have much if any chance of making names for ourselves. And if pattern holds, our search will be completely futile and end in complete and utter failure which would…"

"Ruin my career prospects, I know. So did everyone else when we all volunteered."

… Everyone else?

Reading your confusion for what it is, AD-331 turns around to physically guide you the last meters to where your Ancestor's ship is moored. The vessel itself is a massive edifice easily seven hundred meters long, with a wide armored prow on the front emblazoned with the Empire's sigil. Massive turrets of plasma impactors and tubes you recognize as torpedo housings sit half-hidden where they're retracted behind said armored prow. And there, standing in a milling group of sentients, is your entire graduating class from the Academy.

And as soon as they start to notice you, a cheer goes up among them all.

"AD I…" You have no words, and he does nothing more than grin at you.

KL comes up from behind and places a hand on your shoulder. "You could have been more… but even if you want to chase this lost cause, I won't stop you."

Tears come to your eyes. And looking up at your Ancestor's vessel you come to a decision.


Final preparations take another week before the Imperial Vessel LC-U9 God Seeker "Lost Cause" is finally released from its mooring on Ecstasis.

Massive gravity tugs reach down from orbit to haul the massive vessel into orbit with the scream of bent reality. From there, it is a slow trawl through planetary orbit via the Lost Cause's inertia drives to break free into the black.

Within the sequestered command deck hidden within the core of your new ship, you and your new command huddle over the holographic plinth as you share your notes and calculations gained from the study of your Ancestor's search for the God Vessel.

"My Great, Great Grandfather managed to narrow the God Vessel's location down to the Southern Reaches. Before I went to the Academy, I managed to confirm his findings with the same evidence he used and a bit more." Several articles dropped from the hologram. "From there, I tracked my Great Grandfather and Grandfather's own searches of the Reaches and cross referenced them against the information my Great, Great Grandfather used to narrow his own search." The last of the articles dropped from the hologram to be replaced by a starmap of the Southern Reaches, and from there a sequence of red dots speckled their way across the soft white glow. "The God Vessel, if it truly exists, will be in one of these places."

"And if it doesn't?" GH-708, your navigator and the dead last of the class asked.

Silently, you gaze into the hololyth. "If it doesn't… then my existence will mean nothing."

No one has a reply to that.



Choose Your Destination:

[] The Gestran Nebula

[] Shetran Stream

[] Epiyon Frontier