Interstellar Space, Aboard Tofaresh Capital Ship 'The Vile Fist'- Relative Earth Date, June 23rd, 2018
"Sura," a technician said, "I think we have contact. It's… faint, but it's more than just background radiation."
One of Admiral Ifan Jazhul's eyes flicked to the youth; a fresh-faced cadet, who had the bad luck to end up on a deep space scouting campaign for his first tour- Brother above, he was green enough to still have all three of his eyes. He sighed, the long, wormlike tail of the Tofaresh commander flicking in irritation; there was always one.
"Well?" he asks impatiently. "Verify the signature, cadet. Clearly we haven't a moment to spare."
"Verifying…"
The console cadet stayed silent. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty.
A minute passed, and the two-eyed admiral wondered if the cadet was simply too embarrassed to say it. A month's bathroom-swabbing duty wasn't that bad, after all. Jazhul would kill to only have to worry about keeping the porcelain clean.
… Come to think of it, a couple 'accidental' murders would probably get him demoted-
"... Verified! Incandescent energy signature detected, 15 light-years rimward! Scanning… Class Ш star system, 8 planets, signal is coming from the inner solar system."
The bridge burst into panicked murmuring, a change from the usual silence of deep space work. Admiral Jazhul's remaining eyes widened, and he swiftly approached the console.
There, clear as day- the exact same signature they had all been taught in the academy. Taught when they were pups.
Still. For a moment, he almost didn't want to believe it. That those glorified peacekeeping zealots had somehow made it out to this edge of the galaxy as well.
"... What's your name, cadet?"
"D-D'kan, sura. D'kan Ayatul."
Admiral Jazhul smiled warmly- the boy reminded him of his grandson, in some ways. He had that same, bright-eyed optimism, and the same ring of white in the fur around his eyes.
"Well, Cadet Ayatul, you've just found evidence that the Hearthkeepers are present on this edge of the galaxy, have been for an unknown amount of time, and, correct me if I'm reading your screen wrong, one of their Glass Souls is not only present, but active. Also, I'm going to suggest you for promotion on both of those merits. How are you feeling?"
Cadet Ayatul's eyes widened, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
"... I'm quietly praying that it's on a dead rock and not a life-bearing planet."
Jazhul clapped him on the shoulder as the cadet entered the state of apparent death- a damnably inconvenient reflex from their days as mere marsupials, and one Jazhul had trained out of himself through decades of battle.
"Good instincts. The Family will not grant us such luck, but we shall persevere," he said, turning and leaving the boy to his catatonia.
"Dobrenji!" Jazhul barked. "Get over here, you little-" he strangles the insult back, "my dear and trusted Vice Admiral."
"Yeth, thura?" the little weasel Jazhul was forced to call his vice admiral said.
"Fleetwide message- aim your scopes at-" he leaned over Cadet Ayatul's shoulder, ignoring the foam at his mouth- "Galactic Sector 2814. Third rock from the sun. Send everything back to us."
"Aye, thhhura," Dobrenji said.
"You. Start collating. Tell me everything about this planet."
"Y-yes, sura!"
The cadet's hands flew across her typosphere, and the lights flickered as power was redirected to every Incandescence scanner and tachyon telescope on The Vile Fist and pointed them at the system.
The data flew across her screen almost faster than Jazhul could read. Almost.
Class Ш star system, 8 planets, equal numbers rock and gas… signal was, indeed, on the third planet from the sun…
The resolution was terrible- even with the combined scopes of the entire scout fleet, the first scans were always sacrificial while they got their eye in- like pancakes.
More information filtered in- tracking the Hearthkeeper base to the large continent on the northern hemisphere, near its west coast, and closer to the middle of the landmass.
Context messages began to pop up, detailing the kind of resistance they could face on the part of the Tofaresh's greatest enemy- as if Jazhul wasn't intimately familiar.
The various classes of Hearthkeeper Armaments, those great armours of stone and stellar flame, filled the screen, each one that turned up only souring his mood more, from the unnaturally long arms and legs of the Sunspot flexing its greatbow, to the giant wall of stone that is the Inferno- complete with the miniature black hole that took up the space where its head should be.
The cadet, whimpering as Jazhul growled in her ear, swiped the context messages away, refocusing on the planet. Even with these preliminary scans, there was enough detail to see water and clouds. And there, in the dark half of the planet- lights.
Admiral Jazhul gasped, his mood flipping in a moment.
"Ohhhhh," he coos, "natives! Wonderful! My goodness, they're so primitive they haven't even established interplanetary colonies! They're still poisoning their planet with hydrocarbons! Haha!"
"Hehe, all our Winter Fattening mealth come at onthe, yeth, thura?" Dobrenji said from his comms terminal.
Even he couldn't ruin this for Jazhul.
"S-sura," one of the other bridge jockeys stammered. "Sh-should we… notify someone?"
Which didn't stop someone else from trying.
"And ruin my fun?" Jazhul asked, voice placid, and still immediately sending the bridge jockey into catatonia. "No no- a hand's worth of Tofaresh warships will be more than enough for a planet of- what are they called, cadet?"
"... Translating their internet now… they are… they don't have a unified language, sura, but the lingua franca calls them hyu-mens, sir."
"Hyu-mens," Jazhul said, testing the word on his tongue. "Hyu-mens. Hyoomins. Hoo-man. Hrngh. Not a fan. Try another."
"Humaines?"
"Too similar."
"Menschen."
"Mm… another."
"Ingen."
"Warmer- one more."
"... Chelovek?"
Thaaaaat's the spice.
"Chelovek. Yes, that's the one we'll use. Good, strong, almost a Tofaresh name. Chelovek. Chelovek. We'll find this…"
"Eurghth, sura."
"Eurghth, yes- find the Hearthkeeper base, drown it in vatkan, and once the world is free of their potential tyranny, we shall personally ensure their subjugation for the glory of Empress Kyatin, may her reign be long and cruel. Anyone feel like being summarily executed for subordination?"
Nobody objected.
"Marvellous, I do enjoy it when we're all on the same page."
The admiral returned to his seat, allowing himself to sink into the plush leather for a moment, sighing as his aching bones finally had a chance to relax. Despite himself, despite the dour mask he had to put on as part of his position- Admiral Ifan Jazhul felt a smile pulling at his face.
"Spool the Chasm Engines. I want to be there yesterday."
|||
Various Locales, Earth Date, June 22nd, 2018.
Toss. Turn. You won't sleep tonight, I'm afraid.
Listen.
Past your home, past your street, past your block, borough, city, past the neverending hiss of anxiety, the weighted blanket of self-doubt. It all clouds your eyes, stuffs your ears, dampens that roiling fire that threatens to break out every time you move, every time you speak, every time you are so unabashedly you.
Let it all go. Just like that. For just a moment, let yourself be nothing but fire.
Burn your self-doubts in the flames of ego and listen to its roar.
Do you hear how it it echoes down the tunnel in the back of your skull?
[anima bridge established]
There, at the other end- a little god whispers to you from inside his mountains, using your skull on one end, a wall of glass on the other, and thousands of miles of celestial string wrapping the world in its gossamer embrace.
Listen.
You are not special.
Special is too weak a word for you. Special people hear that little god whispering in their ear, 'come here, from north or south or east or west, meet me where the moon crowns the summit-' and they call it a dream. An event of no consequence, not to be worried about.
You?
You listened. You listened, and you dreamed, and things fell into place. Let you move halfway across your world to meet it there.
Meet it where?
The place where mountains whisper and coincidence goes to die.
Perhaps you moved to avoid a confrontation. Perhaps someone worth your presence is there. Perhaps you will move for opportunity, or not of your own volition as children are so often forced to.
All your reasons are inconsequential. All your reasons are uncoincidental.
All your reasons are your own, little god and lunar wreath aside.
However you came to be here- welcome to Yonder.
It only gets weirder from here.