Dmol8
The Undead Unhinged Lunatic of the Web
- Location
- Belgrade,Serbia
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
And the reason J. J. Abrams' exists.Ah, okay, so basically the reason coronagraphs exist.
Anyways is there an English word for this?
The Secrets' Crusade
- Thread starter Snowfire
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi
Anyways is there an English word for this?
- Location
- Somewhere.
...you know, I have no idea, but I bet that if there isn't it's about to steal one.
- Location
- Somewhere out there
Stray light is the broadest umbrella term. You'll also hear glare, bloom, overexposure, saturation, and other terms used to describe it.
Dmol8
The Undead Unhinged Lunatic of the Web
- Location
- Belgrade,Serbia
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Yeah that works. It's not a 1:1 ratio since katarka covers some things stray light doesn't (the observer themselves) and doesn't cover some things stray light does (light leaks which are considered separate as an instrument construction/design error), but those can be covered with an added explanation.
Descent
Snowfire
Polyglot of Chimera
- Location
- Wordcats
The path into the star system was littered with further clues, yet none of them enough to truly guess what had happened here. Your request for docking had been accepted without delay, and you'd found yourself thoroughly overruled on any attempt to limit the size of your boarding party. This place was too important, and Kicha's codes provided sufficient identities to remove your past stumbling blocks.
We can both feel the power in this place, Mandy, Vega had said at that meeting. Even if Mary's no more than half right, it's not going to be easy to confront whatever they've hidden here. So you aren't going down there without all of us.
You'd tried to argue, you really had. But there'd been no way for you to do so effectively without setting yourself against your own ideals, that it was better to spread the load than bear it alone. Perhaps history would remember you as a poor leader for that, but you didn't think so. Even now, with all you'd seen, you believed that humanity could endure what lay ahead. You'd never wished for the cataclysmic conflict that Project Insight had predicted; that was why you were here. But if it proved the only option, the humanity you'd grown to love so deeply wouldn't lose itself.
And looking around you as the boarding party assembled in full, you understood why they'd presented that ultimatum in a way you could never fight. Your entire Heartcircle was here this time, Vega and Elil freed from their duties by Kicha's identification codes. The two were conversing quietly off the general circuit to one side, examining different possibilities for something Vega wanted to attempt.
Once you'd seen what this place was built to remember, your friend wanted to try and tap into the convergence it formed. You could see the value of that, if this was truly where the Shiplords' descent into tyranny had begun. Dangerous, though.
"We're on final approach now," Iris said next to you. Your daughter's eyes were less shaded than they had been, but there was still pain there. Inexpertly hidden to you, but wasn't that the way with parents? This had been her choice, and she'd been able to pull context files out the memories of the Fifth Sorrow that your Unison Intelligences had struggled to even recognise. And in the event of a breach, she was infinitely more capable of manipulating the systems of a Shiplord enclave to hide it.
Mir and Lea made up another set in the docking corridor, its walls reconfigured using fragmentary Insight pulls and a little advice from Kicha to look as Shiplord as possible. There was a spartan beauty to the aesthetic, with none of the decadence some might expect of such an ancient culture. You couldn't help but admire it and draw hope from that small patch of common ground. Peace had been found in more unlikely places. The two had no grand plans for this mission but to make sure that you all made it out alive without further incidents. No one wanted to rely on another stroke of the frankly improbable luck that had given you the first real conversation with a Shiplord in humanity's history.
And then there was Kalilah, standing half a pace to the side and behind Mary like a mantling raptor. Out of everyone here, Mary was still the most vulnerable, and none of you were taking chances. All of the rest of you could find knowledge, and none of you were unintelligent. But you needed Mary, and her small team, to turn that knowledge into information that you could use.
"Any updates on the platforms we found?" Speaking of which, you turned to look across at your oldest friend, consulting the Adamant's sensors.
You shook your head. "Nothing so far."
"I see," she hummed. It had been one of second-wave analysts who had noticed the platforms, though Mary had been homing in on them from another angle: their effects. There were dozens of them scattered in a loose sphere around the singularity, and more detailed analysis had started to unravel their purpose. Most of them were cold to the Adamant's sensors, so it had been difficult to detect them with the initial scans. But, here and there, a few pulsed with active emissions, carefully smoothing away the effect of the singularity on the rest of the system.
But if the singularity was a prison cell, then these platforms represented another set of walls around it, or so Mary suspected. If she was right, they'd been designed to prevent any attempt to deliberately destroy it, and to be able to create a new one if needed. They certainly appeared powerful enough to do so.
"We're entering the docking ring," Iris reported, a step ahead of the shipwide announcement. "They've reconfigured a bay for us, as promised."
Lea hadn't liked the idea of actually docking with the station, but your Captain had understood the logic. Taking a shuttle with their far less capable stealth systems would have been worse. And refusing the hospitality of the bay after accepting Rinel's offer of guidance had seemed likely to draw attention. Lea had admitted that much of her reluctance stemmed from the idea of taking the Adamant into a hostile anchorage, a concern you empathised with wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, it was the least-worst option, especially with Mary coming aboard.
It was difficult to express the moment of contact in a way that took only a few words. A shiver ran through the Adamant's bones, the Inviolate Matter hull hidden beneath layers of nanotech transmitting it perfectly. The touch of the station's fields was utterly gentle, catching the ship like a waiting featherbed as her drive cut to nothing. It shouldn't have felt different, but somehow it did.
"It's so hard," Mary sighed. "Isn't it?"
"What?" You asked. The ship was still moving around you, sliding into the waiting bay.
"Trust," she replied. "I know we're not really giving it even now. I understand that. But I just...wish it didn't feel so hard."
Of everyone in the room, only Kalilah saying that could have meant more. The two shared a history of loss to the Shiplords that was almost impossible to express. In a way, Mary had been luckier; she'd told you once that she could only remember so much of her life before the Sorrows - and the Burning of Mars had destroyed almost every touchstone she'd had until the Restoration of Mytikas brought them all back. Kalilah had been forced to stay behind as everything she'd ever loved was taken from her, and that loss had broken the then-young woman.
She'd recovered, in time. But the person she'd been before had died bare weeks after the Shiplords left Sol the first time.
"Yes," you agreed. "But even Kicha - I know how much our listening meant to her, how much power she gave us in the hopes that we would. But I still," you shook your head. "I still can't trust all of it. Not even now, because she could still be wrong about her people."
That had been a matter of much discussion as you left the Third Sorrow. Kicha knew herself, she knew the Sorrows and the Hearthguard. But how well did she truly know her people?
"Maybe." Mary took your hand and squeezed gently, the nanoshell retracting between your hands to allow you to touch. "But we're here - you met her - because we hope she's right."
The Adamant's bones shivered again, then the ship stilled.
"We're here." Iris hadn't needed to say it, but the words made it real.
You felt the focus around you, the entire contact party and more watching the docking corridor extending toward you. Half the crew had to be watching. The corridor extruded smoothly and sealed around the Adamant's docking ring. It looked very different to how it had a week ago.
The connection formed without incident and the airlock slid open a moment later. There was no greeting party in the corridor, but you could see a lone figure at the station end of it. Some of your concealed tension faded at that, though you had to remind yourself that Shiplord stealth was impeccable.
:Not a match for us,: Vega reminded you. It helped. :Shall we?:
The surge of emotional reply to the question almost forgot to tell Mary, but Iris caught her up before you could leave her more than a step behind.
:Let's.:
The figure waiting for you was familiar after the broadcasts you'd exchanged. Rinel shared a helping of the same presence Kicha possessed, but only that. He was most of a million cycles younger than the Warden of the Third, but no less dedicated to the Hearthguard for it.
Perhaps predictably, the greeting this time was different.
"Greetings to you all, those chosen by the Third. Be welcome in this spire under the stars, in quiet and respect." Rinel's veil flitted between contemplative reverence and a tentative curiosity. It was slow enough to be seen, and in a way that seemed deliberate. An inquiry without words, like the tilting of one's head, and like so deferring to a choice of silence.
"My use-name is Rinel, and as Warden of the First I welcome you as myself and my post." He offered you a small bow. "You must have given a great deal to the Third for Kicha to grant you her seal."
"We did," you said. Your Masque flowed into patterns of truth offered and possibilities found. It was like smiling - just so much more. For a moment you found yourself considering, wondering what might happen if you explained what you'd done at the Third. But what would lead to how, and none of you knew how Kicha was going to present your usable success to her people.
Fortunately, that gave you a perfect answer. "But we gave it to them. What comes next lies in their hands."
Rinel took you at your word, though you could tell it pained the Warden to do so. Yet seeing that curiosity-driven pain was almost worse, because it confirmed again what had been becoming steadily clearer since your first exposure to one of the Shiplord Sorrows.
What the Shiplords did, what they had become, was monstrous. But that had never precluded the possibility that there were people behind the monsters. And now that you considered it, how much of your mission had been one huge bet on that being true? So you bore the pain, because it meant something much more important.
That this bet you'd made with yourself, with your family, with your friends. A double handful of people that you weren't sure humanity was capable of replacing. Might just be one you'd win.
Your host led you up through the station, through quiet corridors that ducked a few times through the edge of a vast promenade, packed with Shiplords. This Sorrow presented only the two options of the Sixth, and you'd agreed days before your arrival at the station which to pursue first. Remembering, and learning from it, could come afterwards. You needed to know the truth of this place first.
You passed through level after level, ascending towards the top of the elegant tower that was the station's heart. Then Rinel turned off the promenades and led you down a passageway to a small gallery. You'd cross the station's width during the climb, and one entire side of the gallery had been formed of entirely transparent matter. Through it, you could almost see the featureless pocket of total absence that the memorial orbited.
"Here we are," Rinel said. There was sadness in his voice, and you realised suddenly that you'd learnt to recognise it. "There are many galleries above this one, but I have always found this view the most pleasing."
Something like a rueful smile touched his veil. "Millions of cycles since we mastered the stars, and still some of us seek the highest point to see. Here, at least, we will have time." He turned away from the view, one he must have had more time than you could imagine to ponder. Facing you all.
"You are new pilgrims," he said. There was an odd beat to his voice, a rhythm. "But you have seen enough to know the two choices, and to make your first one before you arrived. You seek to Witness this Sorrow first, to know its makings, and its cost."
"We do," Vega replied, in the beat that followed.
"Very well." Rinel inclined his head and raised three arms around him, each one sweeping out in a gentle arcs through the air. And then it was more than air. Holo-imagery spread from the Warden's motions, a beautiful act of theatre that wove together cut streamers of the projection into a single whole.
"This is the story of our first failing, young ones," he said gently. The images around you swept in, a panorama of worlds and stars and species without number—none of which you could name. "It almost cost us everything, and would have but for the swift courage and sacrifice of ancient heroes."
Between you, the swirling images began to stretch into a vast tapestry of light. It took the shape of a vast spiral, alone in the glittering depths of space, and every flickering image had become a star. A moment later, you realised what you were looking at. Yet looking closer, you realised there were gaps missing from the starfield. The devastation of the War of the Sphere wasn't there.
You looked up, a question at your lips, and Rinel chuckled. "This is the galaxy as it was, before even the first of our Sorrows. It is what all who walk among the Hearthguard wish could still be with us, for too much has been lost. But in the end, it is only lights and memory, arranged as they once were."
The sadness in his voice and manner was not a match to the sorrow of eons that had been Kicha's, but it remained potent. And into the absence that sadness brought, the warden offered words.
"We were teachers before. Explorers and artists and scientists, seeking to share all the wonders we had found among the stars. We saw the rise of many, and their passing into the beyond in peace. We understood the Secrets better than any of our peers, however, and so were careful in what we taught."
Colour spread across and vanished again from sections of the galaxy as it slowly turned. Here and there images flashed up, and you felt Iris reach into them to watch. Sadness and awe radiated out across her network connections like waves when she did so.
"We tried to guide them towards what was safe in the beginning, to make sure they'd understand the potential, and the potential dangers of the deeper mysteries." A few lights flared against each other on the display before you. But they were small sparks compared to the full fires of war you'd seen at the Third. "Never perfect, of course. But for many, many cycles, we found paths to success that would not compromise ourselves."
It went like that for a while, yet below the pride in what his species had once been you felt something from the Warden of the First. A deep, abiding shame was almost expected, but there was more than that, too. A belief, rooted deep in his soul, that this Sorrow could not have been allowed to happen any other way. It was hard to believe that, and yet…
:Look at what's in here,: your daughter pulled you into another image, a panoramic shot of a grand mesa that stretched out to the horizon, the purple stone reflecting the brilliant lights of twinned suns overhead. Scrub and stunted, fern-like trees stretched golden leaves towards the light. A moment later, you were surrounded by a city of hulking structures. Yet looking deeper, the maze of metal and glass formed unexpected patterns and images, scattering the lights shining below a tempestuous red sky.
Another picture followed, and then another, every one of them a study in the beauty of the unknown. And you were trailing far behind Iris, her infospace presence branching endlessly out through the files embedded in the imagery. Neither of you missed the galaxy of memories shifting, however.
"When we met the Gysian, we were excited by what we saw." Out of the endless spiral rose a larger representation of a star system, one you hadn't seen before. Seven planets, two of them surrounded by the Shiplords data codes for a habitable environment. "They had learnt to care for their world and people centuries before discovering the Secrets. Planners who questioned, a combination rare enough to be notable even then. We were happy to welcome them into the galaxy."
A faint shade of cerulean spread out from that single system, encompassing a handful more stars. "Yet that questioning, that curiosity, was focused upon themselves in a way that we've seen only rarely since. They sought to understand how to make the world better for their own, and when they realised we were keeping things from them, it was not taken well."
"It started slowly," Rinel explained. "Different questions at first, trying to see if there was a particular way to ask before assuming. Many of our guides missed it at first, but a few caught on before the questions changed to something more."
More images flickered out from the small patch of stars, recordings of meetings that Iris dived into, and you felt her reaction ripple through the link. Confusion and sadness, and a singular understanding.
:Whatever they did here,: she sent carefully, still working through the implications of what she'd seen. :I think it involved multiple Secrets, used together. The questions RInel's talking about start with asking about the First and Fifth, then begin blending the two.:
:That,: Mary sent. It felt like there should have been more behind the word, but nothing followed. A moment later, you felt the most brilliant person you'd ever known thinking furiously. :That would fit, a little. With what you saw in the simulation at the Third, and some of the theories that we'd started to toss around at Arcadia before our departure.:
There was a surge of accelerated thought from your friend, the feeling of a swimmer diving deep into unknown waters before emerging with something bright in hand.
:I'll need time to make sense of this,: Mary sent a moment later. :Later. But I think Iris is right. Whatever happened here involved a combination of Secrets.: There was very real fear in that admission. :And if it needed that sort of countermeasure to stop it…I don't know if I want to know how the Gysian did it.:
"We saw what they were becoming," Rinel continued. "But we were still teachers, and hoped that we could find a way to explain the reasons for holding back some of what we knew. We knew what they were seeking, but all of our guides assigned to their species agreed that they wouldn't be able to use it safely. For a time, it was enough to trade small things for their forbearance, small things that we hoped would help them understand our reasoning."
"But like any holding action, eventually we ran out of territory to give." More images flashed, transcripts racing beneath them. Meetings, raised voices, the feeling of betrayal and sorrow. "Out of things we could teach that were enough without risking everything."
"What came next was predictable." Rinel swept one hand in a small gesture, and the pale colour of Gysian space flashed a threatening red at its edges. "Until it abruptly wasn't." Close to the heart of the galaxy, a single system flared into sharp, citrine light.
"The Gysian had dug into the Secrets searching for a way to force our hand, or to unravel the mystery they pursued. They found both. At the time, we saw only the massing of fleets, the armament of millions, the actions of war that we knew and could prepare for." Rinel shook his head, the movement endlessly weary. "By the time we realised what they'd done beneath that screen of expected action, they already had a functional prototype in range of our core worlds."
The viewpane behind the Warden of the First shimmered, and a new image took shape in the space beyond. A station hung where the terrifying absence now existed, surrounded by a modest armada of glittering ships. They were arranged in a defensive formation, and Shiplord codes noted their active armament signatures.
Facing them were fourteen ships of Shiplord construction, in their lines the ancestry of modern War Fleet craft. A sigil stood out proudly on their prows, one you didn't recognise. Behind them was another, larger vessel, its sweeping curves gentler. A diplomatic vessel of some kind?
Yet there was something behind the image, a subtle shift in the feel of the sensor feeds that didn't seem to add up. Something at the heart of that station was warping local spacetime, in a way you'd never seen before. But Mary recognised something in it.
:Oh no,: she whispered, aghast. :No, no, no.:
"This was the stage where our tragedy unfolded." More images, more recordings, pleas and refusal and determination and a desperate desire to avert more than just a simple mistake. "Maybe if we had just told them what the merging of the First and Fifth could do, they would have stopped. Maybe not. It is impossible for us to say. All we know is that their leaders rejected our demands—for by the end, that was what they had become. And they tried to activate a weapon that they believed could be limited in scope."
On the display, the warping around the station intensified, the Gysian warships around it vanishing into full power First Secret jumps. A moment later, the Shiplord contacts vanished as well. Only for every warship to reappear around the station as space screamed, ripped, and was torn asunder.
:No!: Mary cried.
"This is the moment we remember," Rinel said. "And the tragedy is this."
The station vanished. Simply gone. Mary's Masque writhed into the Shiplord equivalent of utter terror. And the fourteen starships around the sudden, hungering void reaching out towards them activated every Fifth Secret emitter they had. On the display it took the shape of a sphere built from fourteen points, formed from panes of seemingly impossible gravitic shear. They met, merged together, sealing away the uncaring void behind them.
A wave of gravitic fury rolled out across the system like the wrath of some ancient god, and you watched in horror as the system shattered.
"This was only the beginning of its cost."
We can both feel the power in this place, Mandy, Vega had said at that meeting. Even if Mary's no more than half right, it's not going to be easy to confront whatever they've hidden here. So you aren't going down there without all of us.
You'd tried to argue, you really had. But there'd been no way for you to do so effectively without setting yourself against your own ideals, that it was better to spread the load than bear it alone. Perhaps history would remember you as a poor leader for that, but you didn't think so. Even now, with all you'd seen, you believed that humanity could endure what lay ahead. You'd never wished for the cataclysmic conflict that Project Insight had predicted; that was why you were here. But if it proved the only option, the humanity you'd grown to love so deeply wouldn't lose itself.
And looking around you as the boarding party assembled in full, you understood why they'd presented that ultimatum in a way you could never fight. Your entire Heartcircle was here this time, Vega and Elil freed from their duties by Kicha's identification codes. The two were conversing quietly off the general circuit to one side, examining different possibilities for something Vega wanted to attempt.
Once you'd seen what this place was built to remember, your friend wanted to try and tap into the convergence it formed. You could see the value of that, if this was truly where the Shiplords' descent into tyranny had begun. Dangerous, though.
"We're on final approach now," Iris said next to you. Your daughter's eyes were less shaded than they had been, but there was still pain there. Inexpertly hidden to you, but wasn't that the way with parents? This had been her choice, and she'd been able to pull context files out the memories of the Fifth Sorrow that your Unison Intelligences had struggled to even recognise. And in the event of a breach, she was infinitely more capable of manipulating the systems of a Shiplord enclave to hide it.
Mir and Lea made up another set in the docking corridor, its walls reconfigured using fragmentary Insight pulls and a little advice from Kicha to look as Shiplord as possible. There was a spartan beauty to the aesthetic, with none of the decadence some might expect of such an ancient culture. You couldn't help but admire it and draw hope from that small patch of common ground. Peace had been found in more unlikely places. The two had no grand plans for this mission but to make sure that you all made it out alive without further incidents. No one wanted to rely on another stroke of the frankly improbable luck that had given you the first real conversation with a Shiplord in humanity's history.
And then there was Kalilah, standing half a pace to the side and behind Mary like a mantling raptor. Out of everyone here, Mary was still the most vulnerable, and none of you were taking chances. All of the rest of you could find knowledge, and none of you were unintelligent. But you needed Mary, and her small team, to turn that knowledge into information that you could use.
"Any updates on the platforms we found?" Speaking of which, you turned to look across at your oldest friend, consulting the Adamant's sensors.
You shook your head. "Nothing so far."
"I see," she hummed. It had been one of second-wave analysts who had noticed the platforms, though Mary had been homing in on them from another angle: their effects. There were dozens of them scattered in a loose sphere around the singularity, and more detailed analysis had started to unravel their purpose. Most of them were cold to the Adamant's sensors, so it had been difficult to detect them with the initial scans. But, here and there, a few pulsed with active emissions, carefully smoothing away the effect of the singularity on the rest of the system.
But if the singularity was a prison cell, then these platforms represented another set of walls around it, or so Mary suspected. If she was right, they'd been designed to prevent any attempt to deliberately destroy it, and to be able to create a new one if needed. They certainly appeared powerful enough to do so.
"We're entering the docking ring," Iris reported, a step ahead of the shipwide announcement. "They've reconfigured a bay for us, as promised."
Lea hadn't liked the idea of actually docking with the station, but your Captain had understood the logic. Taking a shuttle with their far less capable stealth systems would have been worse. And refusing the hospitality of the bay after accepting Rinel's offer of guidance had seemed likely to draw attention. Lea had admitted that much of her reluctance stemmed from the idea of taking the Adamant into a hostile anchorage, a concern you empathised with wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, it was the least-worst option, especially with Mary coming aboard.
It was difficult to express the moment of contact in a way that took only a few words. A shiver ran through the Adamant's bones, the Inviolate Matter hull hidden beneath layers of nanotech transmitting it perfectly. The touch of the station's fields was utterly gentle, catching the ship like a waiting featherbed as her drive cut to nothing. It shouldn't have felt different, but somehow it did.
"It's so hard," Mary sighed. "Isn't it?"
"What?" You asked. The ship was still moving around you, sliding into the waiting bay.
"Trust," she replied. "I know we're not really giving it even now. I understand that. But I just...wish it didn't feel so hard."
Of everyone in the room, only Kalilah saying that could have meant more. The two shared a history of loss to the Shiplords that was almost impossible to express. In a way, Mary had been luckier; she'd told you once that she could only remember so much of her life before the Sorrows - and the Burning of Mars had destroyed almost every touchstone she'd had until the Restoration of Mytikas brought them all back. Kalilah had been forced to stay behind as everything she'd ever loved was taken from her, and that loss had broken the then-young woman.
She'd recovered, in time. But the person she'd been before had died bare weeks after the Shiplords left Sol the first time.
"Yes," you agreed. "But even Kicha - I know how much our listening meant to her, how much power she gave us in the hopes that we would. But I still," you shook your head. "I still can't trust all of it. Not even now, because she could still be wrong about her people."
That had been a matter of much discussion as you left the Third Sorrow. Kicha knew herself, she knew the Sorrows and the Hearthguard. But how well did she truly know her people?
"Maybe." Mary took your hand and squeezed gently, the nanoshell retracting between your hands to allow you to touch. "But we're here - you met her - because we hope she's right."
The Adamant's bones shivered again, then the ship stilled.
"We're here." Iris hadn't needed to say it, but the words made it real.
You felt the focus around you, the entire contact party and more watching the docking corridor extending toward you. Half the crew had to be watching. The corridor extruded smoothly and sealed around the Adamant's docking ring. It looked very different to how it had a week ago.
The connection formed without incident and the airlock slid open a moment later. There was no greeting party in the corridor, but you could see a lone figure at the station end of it. Some of your concealed tension faded at that, though you had to remind yourself that Shiplord stealth was impeccable.
:Not a match for us,: Vega reminded you. It helped. :Shall we?:
The surge of emotional reply to the question almost forgot to tell Mary, but Iris caught her up before you could leave her more than a step behind.
:Let's.:
The figure waiting for you was familiar after the broadcasts you'd exchanged. Rinel shared a helping of the same presence Kicha possessed, but only that. He was most of a million cycles younger than the Warden of the Third, but no less dedicated to the Hearthguard for it.
Perhaps predictably, the greeting this time was different.
"Greetings to you all, those chosen by the Third. Be welcome in this spire under the stars, in quiet and respect." Rinel's veil flitted between contemplative reverence and a tentative curiosity. It was slow enough to be seen, and in a way that seemed deliberate. An inquiry without words, like the tilting of one's head, and like so deferring to a choice of silence.
"My use-name is Rinel, and as Warden of the First I welcome you as myself and my post." He offered you a small bow. "You must have given a great deal to the Third for Kicha to grant you her seal."
"We did," you said. Your Masque flowed into patterns of truth offered and possibilities found. It was like smiling - just so much more. For a moment you found yourself considering, wondering what might happen if you explained what you'd done at the Third. But what would lead to how, and none of you knew how Kicha was going to present your usable success to her people.
Fortunately, that gave you a perfect answer. "But we gave it to them. What comes next lies in their hands."
Rinel took you at your word, though you could tell it pained the Warden to do so. Yet seeing that curiosity-driven pain was almost worse, because it confirmed again what had been becoming steadily clearer since your first exposure to one of the Shiplord Sorrows.
What the Shiplords did, what they had become, was monstrous. But that had never precluded the possibility that there were people behind the monsters. And now that you considered it, how much of your mission had been one huge bet on that being true? So you bore the pain, because it meant something much more important.
That this bet you'd made with yourself, with your family, with your friends. A double handful of people that you weren't sure humanity was capable of replacing. Might just be one you'd win.
Your host led you up through the station, through quiet corridors that ducked a few times through the edge of a vast promenade, packed with Shiplords. This Sorrow presented only the two options of the Sixth, and you'd agreed days before your arrival at the station which to pursue first. Remembering, and learning from it, could come afterwards. You needed to know the truth of this place first.
You passed through level after level, ascending towards the top of the elegant tower that was the station's heart. Then Rinel turned off the promenades and led you down a passageway to a small gallery. You'd cross the station's width during the climb, and one entire side of the gallery had been formed of entirely transparent matter. Through it, you could almost see the featureless pocket of total absence that the memorial orbited.
"Here we are," Rinel said. There was sadness in his voice, and you realised suddenly that you'd learnt to recognise it. "There are many galleries above this one, but I have always found this view the most pleasing."
Something like a rueful smile touched his veil. "Millions of cycles since we mastered the stars, and still some of us seek the highest point to see. Here, at least, we will have time." He turned away from the view, one he must have had more time than you could imagine to ponder. Facing you all.
"You are new pilgrims," he said. There was an odd beat to his voice, a rhythm. "But you have seen enough to know the two choices, and to make your first one before you arrived. You seek to Witness this Sorrow first, to know its makings, and its cost."
"We do," Vega replied, in the beat that followed.
"Very well." Rinel inclined his head and raised three arms around him, each one sweeping out in a gentle arcs through the air. And then it was more than air. Holo-imagery spread from the Warden's motions, a beautiful act of theatre that wove together cut streamers of the projection into a single whole.
"This is the story of our first failing, young ones," he said gently. The images around you swept in, a panorama of worlds and stars and species without number—none of which you could name. "It almost cost us everything, and would have but for the swift courage and sacrifice of ancient heroes."
Between you, the swirling images began to stretch into a vast tapestry of light. It took the shape of a vast spiral, alone in the glittering depths of space, and every flickering image had become a star. A moment later, you realised what you were looking at. Yet looking closer, you realised there were gaps missing from the starfield. The devastation of the War of the Sphere wasn't there.
You looked up, a question at your lips, and Rinel chuckled. "This is the galaxy as it was, before even the first of our Sorrows. It is what all who walk among the Hearthguard wish could still be with us, for too much has been lost. But in the end, it is only lights and memory, arranged as they once were."
The sadness in his voice and manner was not a match to the sorrow of eons that had been Kicha's, but it remained potent. And into the absence that sadness brought, the warden offered words.
"We were teachers before. Explorers and artists and scientists, seeking to share all the wonders we had found among the stars. We saw the rise of many, and their passing into the beyond in peace. We understood the Secrets better than any of our peers, however, and so were careful in what we taught."
Colour spread across and vanished again from sections of the galaxy as it slowly turned. Here and there images flashed up, and you felt Iris reach into them to watch. Sadness and awe radiated out across her network connections like waves when she did so.
"We tried to guide them towards what was safe in the beginning, to make sure they'd understand the potential, and the potential dangers of the deeper mysteries." A few lights flared against each other on the display before you. But they were small sparks compared to the full fires of war you'd seen at the Third. "Never perfect, of course. But for many, many cycles, we found paths to success that would not compromise ourselves."
It went like that for a while, yet below the pride in what his species had once been you felt something from the Warden of the First. A deep, abiding shame was almost expected, but there was more than that, too. A belief, rooted deep in his soul, that this Sorrow could not have been allowed to happen any other way. It was hard to believe that, and yet…
:Look at what's in here,: your daughter pulled you into another image, a panoramic shot of a grand mesa that stretched out to the horizon, the purple stone reflecting the brilliant lights of twinned suns overhead. Scrub and stunted, fern-like trees stretched golden leaves towards the light. A moment later, you were surrounded by a city of hulking structures. Yet looking deeper, the maze of metal and glass formed unexpected patterns and images, scattering the lights shining below a tempestuous red sky.
Another picture followed, and then another, every one of them a study in the beauty of the unknown. And you were trailing far behind Iris, her infospace presence branching endlessly out through the files embedded in the imagery. Neither of you missed the galaxy of memories shifting, however.
"When we met the Gysian, we were excited by what we saw." Out of the endless spiral rose a larger representation of a star system, one you hadn't seen before. Seven planets, two of them surrounded by the Shiplords data codes for a habitable environment. "They had learnt to care for their world and people centuries before discovering the Secrets. Planners who questioned, a combination rare enough to be notable even then. We were happy to welcome them into the galaxy."
A faint shade of cerulean spread out from that single system, encompassing a handful more stars. "Yet that questioning, that curiosity, was focused upon themselves in a way that we've seen only rarely since. They sought to understand how to make the world better for their own, and when they realised we were keeping things from them, it was not taken well."
"It started slowly," Rinel explained. "Different questions at first, trying to see if there was a particular way to ask before assuming. Many of our guides missed it at first, but a few caught on before the questions changed to something more."
More images flickered out from the small patch of stars, recordings of meetings that Iris dived into, and you felt her reaction ripple through the link. Confusion and sadness, and a singular understanding.
:Whatever they did here,: she sent carefully, still working through the implications of what she'd seen. :I think it involved multiple Secrets, used together. The questions RInel's talking about start with asking about the First and Fifth, then begin blending the two.:
:That,: Mary sent. It felt like there should have been more behind the word, but nothing followed. A moment later, you felt the most brilliant person you'd ever known thinking furiously. :That would fit, a little. With what you saw in the simulation at the Third, and some of the theories that we'd started to toss around at Arcadia before our departure.:
There was a surge of accelerated thought from your friend, the feeling of a swimmer diving deep into unknown waters before emerging with something bright in hand.
:I'll need time to make sense of this,: Mary sent a moment later. :Later. But I think Iris is right. Whatever happened here involved a combination of Secrets.: There was very real fear in that admission. :And if it needed that sort of countermeasure to stop it…I don't know if I want to know how the Gysian did it.:
"We saw what they were becoming," Rinel continued. "But we were still teachers, and hoped that we could find a way to explain the reasons for holding back some of what we knew. We knew what they were seeking, but all of our guides assigned to their species agreed that they wouldn't be able to use it safely. For a time, it was enough to trade small things for their forbearance, small things that we hoped would help them understand our reasoning."
"But like any holding action, eventually we ran out of territory to give." More images flashed, transcripts racing beneath them. Meetings, raised voices, the feeling of betrayal and sorrow. "Out of things we could teach that were enough without risking everything."
"What came next was predictable." Rinel swept one hand in a small gesture, and the pale colour of Gysian space flashed a threatening red at its edges. "Until it abruptly wasn't." Close to the heart of the galaxy, a single system flared into sharp, citrine light.
"The Gysian had dug into the Secrets searching for a way to force our hand, or to unravel the mystery they pursued. They found both. At the time, we saw only the massing of fleets, the armament of millions, the actions of war that we knew and could prepare for." Rinel shook his head, the movement endlessly weary. "By the time we realised what they'd done beneath that screen of expected action, they already had a functional prototype in range of our core worlds."
The viewpane behind the Warden of the First shimmered, and a new image took shape in the space beyond. A station hung where the terrifying absence now existed, surrounded by a modest armada of glittering ships. They were arranged in a defensive formation, and Shiplord codes noted their active armament signatures.
Facing them were fourteen ships of Shiplord construction, in their lines the ancestry of modern War Fleet craft. A sigil stood out proudly on their prows, one you didn't recognise. Behind them was another, larger vessel, its sweeping curves gentler. A diplomatic vessel of some kind?
Yet there was something behind the image, a subtle shift in the feel of the sensor feeds that didn't seem to add up. Something at the heart of that station was warping local spacetime, in a way you'd never seen before. But Mary recognised something in it.
:Oh no,: she whispered, aghast. :No, no, no.:
"This was the stage where our tragedy unfolded." More images, more recordings, pleas and refusal and determination and a desperate desire to avert more than just a simple mistake. "Maybe if we had just told them what the merging of the First and Fifth could do, they would have stopped. Maybe not. It is impossible for us to say. All we know is that their leaders rejected our demands—for by the end, that was what they had become. And they tried to activate a weapon that they believed could be limited in scope."
On the display, the warping around the station intensified, the Gysian warships around it vanishing into full power First Secret jumps. A moment later, the Shiplord contacts vanished as well. Only for every warship to reappear around the station as space screamed, ripped, and was torn asunder.
:No!: Mary cried.
"This is the moment we remember," Rinel said. "And the tragedy is this."
The station vanished. Simply gone. Mary's Masque writhed into the Shiplord equivalent of utter terror. And the fourteen starships around the sudden, hungering void reaching out towards them activated every Fifth Secret emitter they had. On the display it took the shape of a sphere built from fourteen points, formed from panes of seemingly impossible gravitic shear. They met, merged together, sealing away the uncaring void behind them.
A wave of gravitic fury rolled out across the system like the wrath of some ancient god, and you watched in horror as the system shattered.
"This was only the beginning of its cost."
Snowfire
Polyglot of Chimera
- Location
- Wordcats
Yeah, so this took a fricking age. Work got utterly crazy through November and I've only just come out of the other side of that. About a third of this update just sat around languishing through that entire month, and I'm very sorry that it's taken so long to get this down for you all. Thanks go as usual to @Coda and @Baughn for checking this over for me. The next update is about 90% done unless one of them say that it needs major modifications which has happened before. I'm largely free of work for the next few weeks, however, so I will have the time available to get that done swiftly. That update will have a vote attached.
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Okay, so they had a diplomatic/communication breakdown, I assume with lots of loss of life and perhaps a genocide following, and they learned the lesson that ... be more cautious? With the later sorrows that became 'get rid(*) of them before something bad happens'?
(*) force them to become traumatized Uninvolved, or kill them off
(*) force them to become traumatized Uninvolved, or kill them off
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
14 SL vessels sacrificed themselves to contain the 'hungering void', which we have WOG (iirc) for is worse than a good old singularity. And since this is just the beginning ...
Torgamous
Aspiring Gynoid
- Pronouns
- She/Her
one of the second-wave
- Location
- Somewhere out there
Well, only two people in the scene understand it, and one of them is telling the story, so... that seems to be intentional.
I think they pulled off a vaccum collapse with gravitational sheer?
Snowfire
Polyglot of Chimera
- Location
- Wordcats
Explanations will be in the next update which looks like I should be able to toss out tomorrow. It's a Mary PoV section. Amanda doesn't have the science chops to insta-recognise this.
Snowfire
Polyglot of Chimera
- Location
- Wordcats
Would you believe it if I said "No, worse than that."?
- Location
- Maybe?
I'm having a hard time even thinking of a weapon conceptually worse than that. Wouldn't it have to be worse than vacuum collapse? I think the wormhole weapon was sort of equivalent to that.
Maybe if it propagated at superlightspeed? We never really get a good propagation measure for the wormhole weapon, since it gets stopped before it achieves much spread. But I don't think an anti-spacetime weapon should have to be limited by lightspeed. Depends on the mechanism of action, I guess.
Only possibility to be worse I can imagine is if the space underneath spacetime is inhabited by entities that are actively malevolent, because that gives the possibility for sub-zero payoffs. But I don't know if that'd be compatible with the Uninvolved existing.
Maybe if it propagated at superlightspeed? We never really get a good propagation measure for the wormhole weapon, since it gets stopped before it achieves much spread. But I don't think an anti-spacetime weapon should have to be limited by lightspeed. Depends on the mechanism of action, I guess.
Only possibility to be worse I can imagine is if the space underneath spacetime is inhabited by entities that are actively malevolent, because that gives the possibility for sub-zero payoffs. But I don't know if that'd be compatible with the Uninvolved existing.
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Snowfire
Polyglot of Chimera
- Location
- Wordcats
The wormhole weapon had a limit on its expansion - or at least it was implied to. A vacuum collapse doesn't.
Cecylene
Eternal Idea Engine
- Location
- Massachusetts
- Pronouns
- He/They
The wormhole weapon worked by creating a black hole that doubled in geometric size every few seconds until stopped by either the firing mechanism or an equivalent weapon. Worse sounds less like "singularity" and more like "we popped the soap bubble that makes space-time exist."
So much like all "utterly annihilating reality" weapons, effectively the same as all the other options whether you call it false vacuum collapse, the Big Crunch, or Big Bang 2: Now with Faster Electricity.
EDIT: Actually I'm reminded of "Crashing Out" from the ttrpg Continuum, where there are a subset of time travelers trying to "break out" of linear time by causing to many clashes in reality that they effectively are shunted out of existence. The trick is doing it in a way you're prepared for and so don't just turn into so much exotic particles and tachyon spray.
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Enthusiast#117
This is not the Profile you are looking for
- Location
- United States
The simplest thing I can think of for FTL plus Gravity Manipulation is that gravity normally propagates at lightspeed, with the intensity dropping off with distance. Perhaps they artificially generate the gravitc force of a black hole, and propagate it through the FTL method?
Their mistake could be that the intensity doesn't actually drop off due to distance with FTL propagation at all, resulting in an event horizon propagating endlessly through the universe at FTL speeds.
Their mistake could be that the intensity doesn't actually drop off due to distance with FTL propagation at all, resulting in an event horizon propagating endlessly through the universe at FTL speeds.
- Location
- Somewhere out there
Vacuum collapse still propagates at lightspeed. What would be necessary to trigger it would be to concentrate enough energy in one place to make the tension of spacetime itself able to overcome an energy barrier. 5S alone doesn't appear to be able to do this, but perhaps by applying some of the underlying behaviors of 1S you can... I dunno, fold more space into that space in order to multiply the effect? Catalyze the process so the energy barrier is lower?
"Due to the configuration of ships and how the expansion was stopped, we are certain that the ships caught inside are still there, still functioning. If they were not, the expansion would continue, only to be caught by this net we have assembled."
Rinel gestured, and a display of thirty ships laying in wait was highlighted.
"Each is crewed by volunteers carefully chosen to undertake psychological conditioning that precludes them from ever rejoining society. It is a matter of deep respect to earn berth on those ships, to risk forever holding back the dark, and trust that those around you have done so as well. For forever to never know if your duty is worth it, to never receive orders again, but to hold to it none the less. For allowing the light of life to continue having the chance to exist."
The map quickly panned out to a view of the galactic core, and sixteen more markers were added to the first.
"Seventeen times was the weapon used, and seventeen times was it stopped. Plans for tertiary and quaternary nets were drawn up, with fifty five, and ninety one ships respectively. In naught one has the secondary net ever needed to be activated."
"There is a reason I said they are heroes."
-They Hold the Line (non-canon omake)
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- Location
- Australia
Ooh, look, the Gysians became ~physics~
- Location
- Ekaterinburg, Russia
..."Do not linger in the darkness between the stars" ...
Was that not one of the commandments the Shiplords passed down?
Were they trying to hide the tales of ancient Sorrows in those gaps in the starfield? Where stars had shone once upon a time?
Reminds me of Dwemer and their Numidium. More the first than the second.
- Location
- Maybe?
I checked a transcript for Peacekeeper Wars and it's said that the black hole will keep expanding even when the weapon generating it is destroyed, doubling at a geometric rate. That doesn't sound like a black hole to me.
Like yes, they call it a black hole in the series, but honestly it sounds like spacetime is just collapsing into whatever dimension wormholes go through. It's not quite a false vacuum collapse, but I think it's more similar to that than a black hole - for one, it's not limited by available matter to devour.