by Aer-ki Jyr
“You haven’t. And you’re worse than them. But you’re not on their level, so the effect isn’t the same. When they’re not together they isolate themselves and interact when needed. They don’t seek out others to spend time with. Even other Archons that are too junior they don’t like associating with, because they can’t interface with them for mutual benefit. Helping them, sure, but spending downtime is about them and not about carrying someone else. Since they’ve gotten here none of them have gone off on their own. They’re better when together, because they can move and think on the same level, and that helps them raise their game. To put it bluntly, they’ve outgrown the empire they helped build, and there is no turning back.”
“Not that I’d want them to,” Davis added. “But why are they insistent about involving me…oh. Are they…?”
“They’re looking at you like a lost brother they can add to their group, not a youngling to be trained. So don’t expect them to give you a break. Or Kara. But you’re the new find, she’s been around a while.”
“Are you saying they’re lonely?”
“No. It’s not camaraderie they need. That’s a luxury, in the physical capacity. What they need is camaraderie in the mission. Even if they’re on different planets and never see each other, they’re working on the same mission and on the same team. It’s the mission that is lacking now, because they’ve completed just about all we’ve given them or the universe has thrown at them. And the Hadarak…they can’t do much until we’ve built up enough strength. So they’re just waiting, passing time on whatever lesser missions they can get, even if those can be handled by others.”
“You’re saying this is worse than I imagined?”
“This can’t go on like this. I don’t know what will happen if it does. They won’t fall apart, but they will suffer for it. They already are. And bringing them together, as helpful as it is, won’t be enough if there isn’t another V’kit’no’sat empire for them to try and do the impossible against.”
“I take it you’re saying other galaxies aren’t going to be enough for them?”
“Not if they’re going to repeat past victories there. They need something new. The empire they helped forge can take on the repetitive stuff. We need them to do something…grand. I just don’t see what that is yet, and neither do they. But they can smell it. They can sense it exists, they just can’t find it.”
“A negative side effect of winning?”
“Did you ever celebrate in basic training with the other Archons? Or was every victory, at the most, just a sigh of relief before throwing yourself at the next mission?”
“They don’t want to bask in victory, they want more work?”
“They want to matter. And a warrior is built to fight, not to celebrate. Face it, the empire has hit a plateau. Our growth is in our size, resources, and territory. We’re replicating what has been done before, not advancing higher. At least not much. Not as much as they need.”
“Right now all I care about is getting some sleep and recharging enough for tomorrow’s challenges. Are they not fatigued enough?”
“No they’re not, because their bodies are doing stuff that is familiar. Nothing drastically new. Yours has gotten thrown in head first and is struggling to swim, so you’ve got plenty of new.”
“And the Clans?”
“A side project that has outlived its usefulness for them…while being a great asset to the empire. That’s what they do. They build stuff, they fight, and they move on. They’re not maintenance oriented. They’re…as we refer to them…trailblazers. You can’t blaze trail by walking on trail already laid down by them or others. They need to be thrown into the brush and have to hack it out on their own. I just wish I knew how to do that other than marooning them on an uninhabited planet with limited supplies and letting them fight the environment just to stay alive. It would help their mood immensely, but it would tear down their bodies too much. Face it, we lack the kind of enemy the V’kit’no’sat were. The Founders, while a problem for later, are a bunch of wizards and megaloids and their servants. Not dinosaurs.”
“I know that feeling from a different perspective. Sometimes I wish I had to build an empire from scratch all over again, but I’d just be repeating what I’ve already done with Star Force…not doing something new. Star Force is needed, which is why I created it. But it all comes down to that need. Without it we’re lost.”
“And that’s why you’re a trailblazer too, and they want you up to speed with them in the Archon realm.”
“I doubt that’s ever going to happen, but I’m at least able to interact with them better now.”
“It’s not about your power level, but your trailblazing ability. And in that regard, you’re even with them at the worst.”
Davis frowned. “No I’m not. They learn faster than I do.”
“No they don’t. You’ve just gotten stagnant from doing the Monarch thing. You’re lacking newness in that regard, but presently you’re getting plenty of it from your current fatigue. Isn’t there a part of you happier now than you can ever remember being before?”
Davis took a moment to reflect. “I hadn’t thought about it, but yeah. I’m stressed, but there’s no pressure of people’s lives at stake this time. That makes it a luxurious stress, if that makes sense. But I still badly want to sleep.”
“Get going then. We’re not going to solve this today. But I’m convinced there is a solution. We’re just blind to it, and like any other plateau, there is a way to break through it. We’re just going to have to keep them together until we do. We can’t send them back out unless the Hadarak war or something else really gets out of hand.”
“Agreed, on both fronts,” Davis said, standing up and heading for the door. “Sleep it is. Let me know when you find that crack. I’m not going to be much help. They really are working me over hard.”
He walked out, with just enough of a phantom limp testifying to how tired his legs actually were.
“That’s usually when epiphanies happen,” Wilson said to himself after the door closed behind Davis. “You may be the one to find it before they do.”
10
August 18, 154929
Solar System (Home One Kingdom)
Earth
Cal-com had not left the Temples in thousands of years, and his distant past in the service of the Elders now seemed like little more than a vivid dream. Star Force was his home now, and the Temples were his domain so much he had almost forgot there was a galaxy outside them. They were so massive, with so much to still explore that was ever changing as the caretaker programming had them periodically remaking entire regions into different habitats, that Cal-com had come to believe he would spend the rest of his life inside them without ever running out of things to do.
The Vargemma were still a threat, but one currently satiated with the return of the Founders. But that didn’t meant they were safe, nor could they be let outside the Temples or into the Star Force restricted sections, but a sense of normalcy had become the norms in the Temples and the number of individuals qualifying for the Varkemma had increased dramatically. Also, all new births within the Temples were now being given to Star Force maturias, meaning the number of troublemakers was now fixed and would not escalate given time.
That said, they also weren’t dying off, but they were contained and no longer trying to kill Star Force personnel. The fact that they could in the blink of an eye was ever-present in Cal-com’s mind, but in recent months his thoughts had been elsewhere as he traveled outside the temples to the Solar System at a mysterious recall order from Director Davis that did not state a reason.
He had chosen to come without an explanation, and now that he had finally arrived on the birthplace of Humanity, he felt all kinds of emotions he had forgotten he had…along with some new ones. This planet had been rendered nearly lifeless in terms of people, and in the aftermath the plants had taken over as no one was allowed to inhabit it until the Director gave the ok, and that didn’t happen
until they developed a planet-scale defense against the Essence attacks that had ravaged it previously.
But now it was rebuilt, different, with less population, yet it was eerie. Almost as if everything here was built to be temporary. He didn’t get the sense of a permanent home, but rather a semi-permanent inhabitation that planned to move on after a given period of time or if a certain threat emerged. Most of the landmass was cities carved out of the vegetation, with the vegetation clearly making a statement as to it being the norm and the infrastructure the exception.
Most of the planet was ocean, and the cities on the surface or below it there were no different. All were mobile, or at least mobile capable, and connected to permanent support structures on the seafloor that looked like a spider had gotten very busy knitting an intricate web together beneath the water. And if he guessed, Cal-com would have said the majority of Earth’s population wasn’t on land, but submerged beneath the waves where the ocean would give them a decent amount of defense against conventional orbital bombardment…and Disintegration-style Essence attacks.
Cal-com’s dropship headed to one of the few cities that had a bastion on the surface of the ocean, and this was the most special in all of Star Force. It was named ‘Atlantis’ and was their capitol within a capitol within a capitol. It was the home of the Director and built entirely out of Petricite armor, ensuring that no Essence attack of any kind was going to harm those inside…in theory. There was running speculation of how one could overload it, but the exact specifications of the composition and thickness of the Petricite were a closely guarded secret that even Cal-com did not have access to. So if someone did want to attack the small city, they’d have to guess at its defensive capabilities. And that ambiguity would stop many attacks from happening, as opposed to knowing exactly what you had to face and adjusting your forces to meet that benchmark.
But he didn’t expect any attacks on Earth. The Vargemma were contained, the V’kit’no’sat were now part of the empire, the Zak’de’ron were not strong enough to mount such an assault, and the Neofan needed Star Force more than Star Force needed them. Unless some unknown threat arose Earth wasn’t going to be touched again…yet whoever designed its infrastructure clearly didn’t feel that way. This was a war-torn planet rebuilt with more war in mind.
When his dropship landed he walked out amidst a downpour of warm rain, using his Essence to create an invisible barrier over his head to keep the water off him. It collected up there rather than running off, then he casually dumped it to the side before walking inside the tarmac doors as an attendant welcomed and led him through the city to where the Director’s office was.
He walked up the staircase into the tower-top office already feeling a second familiar mind there, finding Paul leaning against the clear wall behind and to the left of the Director as he sat behind his equally clear desk.
“You summoned me?” he asked as he approached.
“That I did. Thank you for coming. I know it’s not a quick journey.”
Cal-com nodded to Paul, who said nothing, and patiently took a seat opposite Davis.
“We were unsure of your mindset, so we decided to bring you here and let you know what was happening before events start to occur. The Zak’de’ron are joining the Bond of Resistance and leaving this galaxy.”
Cal-com’s eyes widened in surprise, and he exchanged a quick glance with Paul. “Are their servants going with them?”
“No. Only the Zak’de’ron are leaving, and we are providing the Essence for their travel to the Krackel galaxy. There are no major powers there, and the Hadarak are tamely minding the Deep Core with only a few scouts into the Rim. It’s similar to the way this galaxy was before the Zak’de’ron formed the V’kit’no’sat and began pushing back on those scouts. They’re getting a chance to start over, and we’re happy to send them on their way. As for the servants, the Zak’de’ron are going to work with us and give us dominion over them. How exactly we don’t know, but it’ll be a transfer of command. Not just them disappearing and us having to step in and deal with the mess.”
“The Voku,” Cal-com said with distaste, guessing as to the reason he was called here.
“We wanted to know what your feelings were regarding them.”
“They are no longer my people. When I was cast out I became Star Force, and I have not regretted it. If I were to return, they would not fully accept me, even if the Elders themselves ordered it so. If you need it of me, I will do my duty, but another of equal skill would be better suited as a Reclaimer for them than me. A neutral entity without previous contact.”
“What do you anticipate their reaction will be when they learn the Zak’de’ron are permanently leaving?”
“They will be told?”
The Director nodded. “That’s part of the agreement. No lies. With any of their servants. They’re going to be told where they’re going and how they’re not coming back.”
“That will not be taken well, and if the other servants are as psychologically dependent on the concept of the Elders guiding their civilizations, you could see them collapse in small or total form when that unmovable pillar disappears.”
“You say that with more certainty than I expected.”
“I have experienced it,” Cal-com said, old memories long forgotten reemerging. “There will be no easy transition. It will be controlled madness at best. You need to understand, these servants are only taught to think within a set of firm boundaries. What you are going to tell them exists beyond those boundaries. The Elders are meant to be eternal. You are going to tell them they are not.”
“The Zak’de’ron are going to tell them, and we’ll be there when it happens.”
Cal-com closed his eyes, visions of horror inescapable from his calculating mind. “That may be worse. Hope that the Elders were still in play would sustain many if you told them and they vanished without a trace. You are about to take away all that drives them. Suicide is not our way, but I would not think it beyond any broken individual unless they have a sense of honor beyond service to the Elders.”
“And we’ve already seen what the Zak’de’ron do to those people,” Paul noted.
“That we have,” Cal-com agreed. “It is good to see you once again with my own eyes.”
“Did you think you could get summoned to Earth and I wouldn’t be here?”
“I thought you were still fighting the Hadarak on your Excalibur.”
“I was, then I got recalled,” he said, gesturing to Davis.
“We’re facing a moment in history,” the Director explained, “where there will be a great many transitions. I recalled all the trailblazers here so we could brainstorm how we are to proceed in regards to a great many things. Paul suggested we bring you here, as well other individuals of particular merit. You are the first of them to arrive, and you have the most knowledge of the Zak’de’ron servants because you were once one of them. We can’t afford to annex them in the traditional methods. That will be too costly, both for us and them. We need to have a plan in place before any of them know of the changes coming. What would you advise?”
“Bring the Bo’ja back to the Voku. Beyond that I have no immediate advice, but I can study the matter if you wish it?”
“Why the Bo’ja?” Paul asked.
“They were taken from the Voku for service to the Elders. It was a sacrifice that never should have been made. It denigrated the Voku to breeding stock, and I do not know how far their will has fallen since I was cast out. I led a mighty empire that was called upon to duty, not to endless defense while our contribution to war was reproduction.”
“The Zak’de’ron could have cloned as many Voku as necessary,” Paul differed. “They needed experienced individuals, so what they did to your race was more than just reproduction. They needed basic training. But I agree, it was an insult and denigration, and needs to be rectified.”
“I doubt any of my peers are still living with the Voku. Most were probably drafted into the Bo’ja, leav
ing those with the Voku as younglings elevated without experience of an offensive empire. And if there are some that remain, they will have had to let go of their honor or bury it deep down. I fear the Voku I left have been destroyed, and I would rather not deal with their living corpse. You can make them great again, in your own way. I could as well, but I find it…distasteful.”
“I understand…somewhat,” the Director said. “What task would you like? And that question has no boundaries.”
“I am content with my current task.”
“You don’t miss the stars?” Paul asked.
“I did not think so until I traveled here. If you are asking if the Temples are claustrophobic…” he said, a bit sarcastically, “…they are not. I have come to think of them as home, despite them being built by an enemy. I assume we still consider the Bond of Resistance as such?”
“More or less.”
“I would rather engage them in battle than have to face the scraps of my former race.”
“You view it as going backwards?”
Cal-com considered those words for a moment. “I do. Their future is not my own. You said your question was unlimited?”
“Yes.”
“Then I have a recommendation.”
Davis leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “Go ahead.”
“You made me a Reclaimer to assimilate the Vargemma. I have not accomplished this task in full, but in part it is complete. To do so I have had to build a great deal, and as Dafchor I had to do the same. I also had to face a Skarron crusade that is very similar to the endless Hadarak attacks. Both were worthy tasks, but the one I felt we were destined for was building. It involved all aspects of our civilization, and our population expansion wasn’t for its own sake. It was always to accomplish a mission. There are vast regions of this galaxy’s Rim that are beyond Star Force’s influence. I believe, as long as the Grand Border holds, Star Force needs to mount a second campaign to civilize these regions…as well as the unruly neighbors within our borders.”
