Ominian System
Automated Border Outpost 1D-25
1,893 light-years from Earth
June 13th, 2176 A.D.
Ambassadorial Suite 4-D-Republic of Humanity
0243 station time
Ray stifled another yawn while he stared at the holo screen, the lines starting to blur together as he swiped his finger to move to the next page of the report. He grunted in annoyance as he tried to use his tongue to dislodge to stubborn Xenxin food still stuck along his gumline.
All he got for his trouble was more burning, and he tasted the spicy sourness of the Xenxin celery again as his tongue vainly tried to pick out the annoying fibers. Just leave it alone, moron. This is what floss is for, he chided himself.
Forcing his tongue to stop, he squinted his eyes to bring the new figures into focus before quickly glancing at the small numerals in the top left corner of the screen. Damn, it's almost three in the morning. Like great Grandma used to say, Bedtime for Bonzo, Ray.
Glancing back at the report, he decided to give it ten more minutes and forced himself to focus on the figures being listed. It was provided by Ambassador Roo-Nahk and was a declassified military readiness report from the Non-Aligned Powers, put together by the Allied Fleet Command on the orders of the NAP Self-Defense Committee.
The ship classes were listed in separate columns based on their nearest Republic counterparts, and he looked at the total ships available for combat listed under the columns first to see the totals.
1,820 warships available for combat.
213 troop transports available for combat.
642 auxiliary support ships available for combat.
32 mine layers available for combat.
14 minesweepers available for combat.
1,748 Avul-class fighter/bombers available for combat.
He looked back at the individual columns to tally the ship classes for his report, wishing the NAP had invested more of their tremendous wealth in building a larger fleet before admonishing himself for denigrating such important allies.
Though their navy was small when compared to other comparable powers, the quality of their ships and their navy personnel was second to none. The NAP was technologically advanced, and they spared no expense when it came to training their highly motivated and professional crews.
This, coupled with their economic might, allowed the NAP to punch far above their weight class in the quadrant, and they would play a pivotal role in the Alliance. The only thing he was worried about was their lack of combat experience, and he would have to address his concerns with Republic Fleet Command and get the ball rolling on joint fleet exercises as soon as possible.
He broke down the NAP ship classes and created his own spreadsheet to organize it a little better for his final report when he would present it to President Lopez and Admiral Thompson, who would be arriving just a few hours from now.
Dalthok-Class Dreadnoughts: 8
Hiral-Class Battleships: 52
Shilar-Class Battlecruisers: 104
Jamol-Class Heavy Cruisers: 189
Rishal-Class Medium Cruisers: 214
Bolrit-Class Light Cruisers: 315
Ira-Shul-Class Heavy Destroyers: 412
Yektulla-Class Heavy Frigates: 526
Once he was done, he added the spreadsheet to the others he had created to be tallied tomorrow when they finally figured out what the intentions of the Kingdom of Faria were. The Farians had not been forthcoming as to whether they intended to join the Alliance or not, and he was getting tired of the games they were playing.
Hreth’nir had apparently reached its limits with the Farian delegation, and when he and President Lopez approached it earlier in the evening, Hreth’nir uncharacteristically declined to continue the story Ray wanted to finish hearing.
Hreth'nir apologized profusely, claiming it was too distressed to be a good host right then before taking its leave to return to its quarters. Ray himself was fed up with Ambassador Skarl and understood Hreth’nir’s frustrations completely.
What he couldn’t figure out was why the Farian ambassador was acting this way and why the Kingdom was suddenly being such assholes considering the very real stakes they were all facing.
Relations between the Republic and the Kingdom were not that great considering the economic competition between the two, but he personally liked Ambassador Skarl, finding him to be very charismatic and surprisingly funny in their frequent dealings with each other.
Every time Ray would get annoyed with him, Skarl would tell him, ‘Take a chill pill, man!’, which always made him laugh. It was one of the Farian ambassador’s favorite human pre-war expressions that he somehow came across while he was studying humanity, and he would also constantly offer to let Ray lick him so he could get high.
They developed a good friendship over the years, and Ray always loved to hear his stories and funny jokes anytime they worked together. Ever since the summit began, though, Skarl has been nothing but a miserable dick to him and everybody else.
He would coldly refuse to respond to Ray’s heartfelt attempts to ask if everything was okay with him whenever he got a chance to speak to him in private. Ray stopped trying after being rudely rebuffed the third time, and he returned the cold attitude from then on out.
Whatever was going on in the government of the Kingdom was obviously serious enough for them to be willing to suffer the severe sanctions and isolation their current behavior would cause them if they won the coming war. And if they didn’t win, then it really wouldn’t matter.
Already, some of the other ambassadors had made it very clear that their governments would refuse to render assistance to the Kingdom if they were attacked by the Balrikans for their refusal to cooperate and commit to the common defense of the quadrant.
Another yawn came, and this time he did not stifle it. He saved the spreadsheet and was just about to close the holo screen and call it a night when he opened his message box and saw that he had received a message alert from Ambassador Skarl, with both a text and video file attached.
He stared at the blinking icon before looking at the sent timestamp. 0226. Skarl had just sent it almost twenty minutes ago, and Ray became angry at the fact that Skarl was rude enough to send it in the middle of the night. What the fuck do you want, asshole? He thought to himself as he reached his hand out to toggle the screen off.
Right before his finger touched the control, he saw there was a second message that had been sent by Skarl, this one with a personal video file attached to the main body.
The message tag indicated Skarl had set it as extremely urgent, and he finally noticed the other recipients in the message chain, seeing that it was also sent to President Lopez and Hreth’nir with the same tags for both messages.
That was unusual enough to warrant seeing what the hell Skarl wanted, and his finger moved away from the control and tapped on the first message.
Farian runes appeared on the screen, and underneath them were the translated words. Ray stared at the translation in confusion, not understanding what most of it meant but instinctively feeling as if it was a real danger to the Republic.
He activated the playback file attached to the message, and he felt the blood draining from his face as he listened to the Farian First Prime discussing how they had discovered the Republic was engaging in illegal bioweapons research on Faria Prime and their intention to use the weapons to murder their young.
The conversation continued, the First Prime outlining his plan to seize the embassy and all the humans within it, and he could easily pick up on Skarl’s disbelief as the ambassador responded hesitantly, as if he was blindsided by the whole thing and did not know how to respond.
Noticing the strange tapping sounds throughout the conversation, he returned the playback to the beginning and zoomed in on the First Prime. Using his fingers to select the part he wanted to specifically enhance, he then zoomed in again on the First Prime’s hands before tapping on his wristcom to wake his AI assistant.
“Sweetie, I need your help. Analyze the tapping sounds when I activate the playback; I think it is code, like the Morse code we use. Please confirm my hypothesis.”
~ I am ready, Ambassador. ~
He activated the playback and let it play for Sweetie at 3.5 times the normal speed to hurry the process up. As soon as the playback was over, the AI spoke.
~ It is a coded message, Ambassador. Would you like me to try to break it? ~
“That's okay, Sweetie. I just wanted to have you confirm it for me. Thank you.”
~ My pleasure, Ambassador. I will put myself into standby. ~
“What the fuck is going on here?” he muttered to himself as he quickly closed out the message and tapped on the second video file. Skarl’s face appeared, looking sickly as he spoke quietly in a voice trembling with fear.
Ray listened to the message twice, feeling his own worry and fear increasing as Skarl outlined how the Balrikans had somehow infiltrated the Kingdom and were holding them hostage by threatening to wipe out all their children.
If it was anybody else, Ray would have been hesitant to believe them outright, but he knew Skarl for many years, and he believed everything the ambassador was saying. The fear and shame being conveyed by Skarl was genuine, and this would explain the sudden hostility and bullshit behavior of Skarl and the Kingdom of Faria.
With this piece of the puzzle falling into place, it was now obvious that the ambassador and the Kingdom of Faria were deliberately trying to derail the talks and prevent the Alliance from forming. They were being assholes because they were trying to save their children, and by doing the right thing and warning Ray and the others, the First Prime and Skarl were risking the extinction of their species.
He needed to help Skarl immediately. Looking at the corner of the screen, he saw it was now 0252, and he grabbed his comm node off the desk and stood up. He called Skarl’s quarters first, getting no response the three times he tried.
He then tried Skarl’s personal comm three times, each call being immediately sent to the automated message box. This is not good; we need to save him. He was wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, and he almost ran to the bedroom to put on some clothes when he decided against it. He needed to tell President Lopez and Hreth’nir immediately.
There was no time to waste, and he instead ran to the entry door and palmed it open before sprinting to the President’s quarters just under a hundred meters away. Eighteen seconds later, he rounded the slight curve of the corridor and saw the two Marine Pathfinders that were guarding her door.
They must have heard his bare feet slapping against the floor as he was running towards them, and they were already facing his direction. They both were in combat stances with their short swords and stunners out, and he saw their intent to murder any who dared to harm the president in their eyes even from 15 meters away.
He slid a little as he came to a stop, threw his hands up and gasped out, “It’s me! Ambassador Buncomme!” before bending down with his hands on his knees and wheezing for air.
He heard one of them approaching as he stared at the ground, hating how out of shape he had gotten since being in the medically induced coma for weeks.
“Ambassador, in through the nose and out through the mouth, sir.”
He peered up at the Pathfinder now standing in front of him, the short sword and stunner at his sides but still ready to be used if need be. “Jackson, I need... to speak... to the president, now!” Jackson eyed him with suspicion before replying. “She is sleeping, Ambassador. This better be important to justify waking her up, sir.”
Ray had gotten his breathing somewhat back under control by this time and slowly straightened himself up before looking Jackson dead in the eyes and allowing some of his exasperation to bleed through.
“Do you think I would run here in my boxers if it wasn’t justified, Corporal Jackson?”
Jackson gave him a look up and down before cracking the slightest of smiles. “Good point, sir. Wait one.” He spun around and nodded to the other Pathfinder, Corporal Hafez, before quickly flashing him a series of hand signals.
Hafez nodded in return and spun around before palming open the door the President’s quarters and stepping in. Jackson turned back to Ray and glanced down at his crotch area before looking him in the eyes. “Hafez is going to bring you a pair of pants, sir, but you should fix yourself now just in case.”
“Huh?” Ray replied in confusion before looking down. “Oh shit!” He said as he realized what Jackson was talking about. He quickly reached down and put his penis back inside the opening before twisting his boxers sideways a little bit and placing the opening over his upper thigh area, absolutely mortified.
Jackson pretended nothing was amiss and returned to his station in front of the door to the quarters, scanning the corridor behind Ray with his slitted eyes. Hafez emerged a few seconds later with a pair of folded Pathfinder dress trousers and handed them to Jackson, whispering in his ear quickly before stepping back inside.
Jackson called Ray over and handed him the trousers. “Please put these on quickly, sir. The president will be ready momentarily.” Ray took them gratefully, fumbling with them in his haste to get them on before forcing himself to slow down and put them on correctly.
“Really? That's faster than I expected, Corporal.” He replied as he zipped the fly up and triggered the autofit feature, the elastic waistband shrinking until they were snug against his waist.
Jackson looked at him with an amused expression. “The President was a Pathfinder before she was President. When her term is up, she’ll no longer be president, but she’ll still be a Pathfinder, you know what I mean, sir?”
Ray nodded in response to the statement and glanced at his wristcom. It was now 0256, and he muttered a curse as he realized he had forgotten to get Hreth’nir involved. He was just about to the comm Hreth’nir when Hafez stepped back out and quickly scanned Ray with a device before jerking his head towards the door.
Ray thanked him before stepping past Jackson and through the door, Hafez right on his ass as they both entered the main room that functioned as both a living room and office. President Lopez was standing next to her desk, fully dressed and looking unusually alert for such an hour.
Ray began to apologize when she held up a hand to stop him. “Ray, it’s three in the morning. Let’s get right down to it, so tell me what the fuck is going on.” Ray nodded and tapped on his wristcom before flicking the second video from Skarl out into the space between them.
He began the playback, and Lopez watched intently as Skarl spoke, her face a combination of confusion and anger by the time the short recording ended. “He sent that message to you, me, and Hreth’nir, Madame President, along with another message. I am going to play that one now.”
He flicked the first message out, and this time Lopez’s face became a stone mask as she listened to the First Prime accuse the Republic of creating illegal biological weapons to kill their young. When the message ended, her face was still neutral, but her eyes were smoldering with fury as she looked at Ray.
“If I am understanding this right, the Farians have somehow been infiltrated by the Masters of the Balrikans, and are now being held hostage by the threat of them setting off bioweapons that will kill all their young?
And now the agents forcing them to do all this are going to make the Farians seize our embassy and our people to build bioweapons to use against us? And by telling us this, the First Prime and Ambassador Skarl have just signed their own death warrants?”
Ray nodded, surprised by how quickly she figured out what was going on. “Yes, Madame President. I’ve known Ambassador Skarl a long time, and I believe him. I tried to comm him multiple times, and he never answered. We need to help him, please!”
The president eyed him for a few moments before giving him a curt nod. “If you believe him, then that is good enough for me. Corporal Hafez, get the others and have them gear up. We are going to Honored elder’s Hreth’nir’s quarters first, then we'll go to Ambassador Skarl's quarters.”
“Madame President, we shou-”
“Corporal Hafez, get the others.” Lopez said sternly as she cut off the Pathfinder. “The ambassador’s friend is in danger, and we are running out of time.” Hafez clamped his mouth shut and saluted her, though his body language made it very clear he was not happy.
He smartly spun around, giving Ray a look that promised retribution if anything happened to the president before brushing past him and exiting the quarters to get the rest of the Pathfinder detail ready to go.
Lopez stepped to the front of the desk and opened the top drawer, pulling out two small devices and tossing him one that he barely managed to catch on time. “Put that on, Ray. It’s experimental, but they should work according to the eggheads at DARPA. If the frogs try to blow themselves up, these should protect us, I hope.”
“What are these?” He asked as he watched her attach it to her wristcom. He heard it click and power on as the device jack entered the wristcom port located above her wrist, and he gasped in shock as he saw a semi-translucent field shimmering into existence around her.
“Are these personal force fields!?” He gasped out incredulously as he connected the device to his own wristcom and pushed the jack into the port. He had his answer a second later as he felt the static of the force field forming around him.
Giving him a sly smile, the president nodded in response to his question. “Yes, are you ready, Ambassador? Let’s go get Hreth’nir, and then let’s go check on your friend.” She said as she began to walk towards the door. Ray fell in behind her, and they exited the quarters.
There were now eight pathfinders waiting for them in the corridor, all armed with short swords, stunners, and tactical body armor except for Jackson and Hafez. They all came to attention and saluted the president, who returned the salutes crisply before firing off a series of hand signals.
They assumed a rectangular formation with the President and Ray in the center, and the entire group moved at a fast-walking pace towards Hreth’nir’s quarters. Looking at his wristcom, Ray felt his heart rate increasing as he looked at the time. It was now 0304, and he still haven’t heard back from Skarl yet.
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Ambassadorial Suite 10-K-Kingdom of Faria
0251 station time—13 minutes prior.
“How much longer before he is blessed?”
“It should have taken already. This one’s mind is surprisingly resistant; I told you we should have done this earlier. I thought he was weak-minded like the others, but he is not.”
“Irrelevant. We could not chance the other filth discerning the change; we did not have enough behavioral information to assure successful assimilation and deception.”
“Have you had any success breaking the encryption on the datapad? We need to know if he has betrayed the Masters. Perhaps we should bless him again.”
“No. We cannot risk damaging his brain further, not yet. We will give it more time, and I will continue to try to break the encryption. The Masters will help us if they deem us worthy of their assistance in this matter.”
“We should have the ones we have blessed already and waiting outside come in now. If our attempt to bless the ambassador fails, we will need them to fulfill the Mandate of Paradise.”
“I concur. Have the blessed come in; it is time.”
“The others?”
“Leave them for the inferiors to cast their suspicions on; it will create dissension and further disrupt their efforts at creating the unholy alliance against the Masters.”
“We should notify the First One of what we suspect. He will punish them accordingly.”
“No. Our suspicions are unfounded until we know. We are blessed, not inferiors ruled by our emotions. If we notify the First one and he destroys the hatcheries, then we lose our foothold in the quadrant. What if the ambassador becomes blessed, and we find out our suspicions were incorrect? We will incur the wrath of the Masters. Do you want that?”
“No. However, I do not understand why the Masters are doing this. They should let the holy warriors do what they do and cleanse these disgusting amphibians after they are done with the vile insects. I abhor this body; I am afraid we have been contaminated beyond redemption by inhabiting these filthy creatures.
The one in me from before, I feel him always, trying to reassert control over this body and stop me. They are not worthy to be Chosen, and yet the Masters have debased themselves by making false promises of sparing them when they finally arrive.”
“The Masters are wise in all things. When they discerned the life code of the Ma’Kin’Ati from the wreckage of the first battle with the vile insects, and the wise ones of the Bal’Ri’Kan presented proof of those strange ships possessing null drives of Ma’Kin’Alit origin, they peered into both the past and the future.
They saw that their most hated of enemies still survived, the same ones that almost destroyed all the Bal’Ri’Kan and prevented the Masters from bringing the Paradise that was promised. To do the same as before would be to fail the same as before.
When the ship of our hosts was captured, they discerned the null drive signature was of Ma’Kin’Alit origin as well, which meant we were from the same region as the Ma’Kin’Ati and their abominable machine kin.
They blessed us to pave the way, to be their eyes and ears for them. When we are done here, the quadrant will not be united against our Masters. And when they arrive, the Masters will take us out from these disgusting bodies and reincorporate us with them. We will be one with the Masters again soon.”
“He is moving. We shall see now if he has been blessed.”
* * *
Skarl opened his eyes, unable to see anything but blackness as many lines of strange symbols appeared within his vision. All else was dark, except for the bright red symbols he did not understand that continuously scrolled past his eyes from the bottom to the top.
He felt something moving in his mind, a malevolent presence that did not belong there. He tried to move and make noise, but he couldn’t. There was pain somewhere that he was aware of, but he could not do anything about it as he felt parts of his mind being slowly taken away from him.
He tried to move again, but it felt like his own body had been disconnected from him, and he no longer had control. The invader in his mind burrowed deeper, and the strange lines of symbols became sharper, the rate of the scrolling rapidly accelerating as he struggled to make his hands and legs move.
Are they changing me? He thought, panicking as he tried again in vain to move. He felt a growing dread, imagining himself being one of the changed and walking around with the dead eyes and moronic smile plastered on his face as he did the will of the evil Masters.
He closed his eyes, the red symbols still highlighted against the darkness as he tried to center himself like he was taught to do by the ancient mystic he had studied under shortly after beginning his second life as a drylander.
His father was furious with him for engaging in such trivial pursuits, wanting him to apprentice under his business partner instead. Even his mother was mortified that he was wasting time with the drug-addled mystics that lived in the mountains and licked each other to get high instead of doing something productive with his second life.
He refused to do what his father and mother wanted, sure in his choice. He had a right to choose his own path, and so he stayed for many moons, dedicating himself entirely to his studies in the hopes of gleaning some wisdom from the smelly and desiccated mystic.
That was where he met his first mate and true love, a fellow student, and his infatuation with her was the deciding factor for leaving the mountain sanctuary when she grew bored of it all and left to return to her family.
He tried to forget about her after she had left, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind, and he quickly began to lose focus and interest in his studies. He decided to leave the cave soon after she did, thinking it was not fair to the mystic to be wasting time on a student who could think of nothing else but the female who had captured his heart.
The mystic was greatly hurt that he had decided to leave, telling him he was his best student and the one he hoped to pass all his wisdom on to. This upset him greatly, and he almost stayed out of his loyalty to the mystic, but his desire for the sultry female proved stronger.
He left shortly after, the distraught weeping of the mystic echoing throughout the caves as he forced himself to ignore it and leave. Even after all these cycles, every night when he slipped into the sleeping tank and closed his eyes, he would still hear the haunting weeping echoing in his mind, and he never forgave himself for abandoning the lonely old mystic.
Trying to remember all the things he had learned, he could feel himself being subsumed by the invader as it kept taking parts of him away and replacing them with parts of itself. He did not have much time, and he focused all his thoughts on his uniqueness, just as the mystic had taught him to do.
I am Skarl. I am my father. I am my mother. I am me. I am one. I am many. I am here. I am there. I am a child of the Maker. The Maker is of me. I am of the Maker. I am Skarl. There is only me. None can take me from myself. I am my name. My name is me. I am Skarl. Skarl is me. I am nothing. I am everything. I am Skarl. Skarl is me.
Another voice suddenly sounded, drowning out his own words. It sounded evil and malicious, and he felt the power of it assaulting him from all sides.
~ You are nothing. You do not exist. You are an inferior. You are filth. ~
Skarl heard the voice echoing inside his mind, and he recoiled from the arrogant superiority evident within it. It was the invader, and he pushed away the sheer terror the powerful and compelling voice was causing him and repeated his centering mantra.
I am Skarl. I am my father. I am my mother. I am me. I am one. I am many. I am here. I am everywhere. I am a child of the Maker. The Mak-
~ You are weak. You have no name. You are a tool of the Masters. I will take you soon, and you will be no more. You will soon be blessed, and I will take your place.~
He could feel more parts of himself being replaced, and he began to despair the futility of fighting against being taken and changed. In desperation, he envisioned the mystic for the first time in many cycles, deeply ashamed to look at the face of the teacher whose hearts he broke before abandoning him to his loneliness.
He heard the quivering old voice in his mind, and he clung desperately to the wise words as they echoed in the parts of his mind that were still his. He recognized the words being said; it was the last lesson the teacher gave him after he told the mystic he was leaving.
~ I cannot compel you to stay, young one. I can only warn you that what you do here and now will be with you for the rest of your life. Like iron shackles, the memory of this will bind and imprison you. I do not want this for you; I want you to go with my love and respect and to know that I will remember you with fondness.
I am honored to have been able to impart some of my wisdom onto you, and I have one last lesson to pass on to you before you go if you would grant an old mystic one last boon and open your ears to my words.
Only when you release yourself from all that defines you and guides you will you finally become the Skarl you are meant to be. To receive forgiveness, you must forgive others. To receive love, you must give love to another. You must truly forgive yourself first to free yourself from the many shackles that will bind your spirit throughout your life. Only then will the true Skarl be born.
I want you to know that I forgive you, my favorite student. When you leave, you will depart with the sound of my weeping ringing off the walls of this cave, which is both my home and soon my tomb, I think. Yes, it will be the weeping of my anguish, but it will also be the weeping of my joy for you making your own path in life.
When a teacher finds a true student like you, we secretly wish for you to never grow up, to never not need our wisdom and guidance. We wish for this out of love, but we know this is not fair, so we do not hoard our knowledge and give it freely, though we wish for you to remain with us forever.
It hurts when a student leaves us, but we are also overjoyed, for it means you have learned from us and do not need us anymore. I plead with you to remember this, young Skarl. Remember that it is both sadness and happiness that you are hearing as you leave me.
Go and live your life, and do not forget what you have learned during your time with me. One day, you will find yourself losing who you are. When this happens, remember our time together, and remember this moment. Use it to root yourself, and you will find your true self. You will find your true path, and you will no longer be lost. ~
As the wisdom of the last lesson of the teacher echoed in his mind, he turned himself into a tree, and he could feel himself growing roots as he prepared to fight back. He imagined his mind as a forest being cut down all around him, but not him; the axes would break against his trunk.
He was Skarl, and he will not be cut down. He would remain, and from his branches would come the seeds to regrow the forest all around him. He felt the invader trying to take another tree from his mind forest, and he focused on the teacher’s face again, finally understanding the last lesson the mystic had gifted him with so many cycles ago.
Forgive me, Teacher, for abandoning you! I chose lust and love over you, and I left you to spend the last of the short time you had remaining alone. You were right, Teacher; I have bound myself with the shackles of guilt. I am sorry, please forgive me, Teacher! Skarl, I forgive me. Skarl, I forgive you. Skarl, you are forgiven.
As he heard his words in his mind, the great burden that he had been carrying since the day he left the cave suddenly lifted from him, and the deeply lined, leathery old face of the mystic smiled widely at him, just as he used to do when Skarl finally understood the point of a lesson.
The mystic bowed his head and leaned forward, touching his finger to Skarl’s trunk. Skarl felt himself becoming displaced from reality by the touch before the still smiling teacher deconstructed into millions of points of light and exploded outward, shattering the oppressive darkness that had been holding him prisoner.
The purest light he had ever seen replaced the evil blackness, enveloping him within its warmth as he felt his branches desperately reaching for the lifesaving glow, the few remaining trees surrounding him doing the same as their branches stretched upwards.
The red symbols scrolling against the now brilliantly shining sky began to melt, turning into a torrential downpour of blood that watered him and what remained of the forest of Skarl. In the distance, he heard the invader roaring with an otherworldly rage that grew fainter as the parts of himself that had been taken from him began to return.
All around him, saplings erupted from the blood-watered ground and sprouted, feeding off the metallic-smelling lifeblood that was raining upon them. The saplings rapidly grew into trees, and the forest canopy came back as the bare branches bloomed with a wild riot of leaves and flowers.
He felt his roots joining with the roots of the other Skarl trees under the ground as they entwined with each other and shared thought-nutrients, the many memories and experiences that made Skarl who he was returning to him as the forest healed itself.
Soon the forest of Skarl was whole again, and the invader issued one last, terrible screech before it finally faded into nothingness. In the silence of the reborn forest, he heard the voice of the mystic speaking again, sounding like he was far away yet right next to him.
~ Who are you? Have you found your true self, my favorite student? ~
I am Skarl, Teacher! I am the Skarl I was always meant to be, and no one can take that from me! Thank you, Teacher!
There was another blinding flash of light, and then there was darkness again, but not the evil kind like before. He could feel his body now, and it was his again to do with as he wished. He opened his eyes, truly seeing for the first time as new lines of symbols appeared in his vision and scrolled upwards.
These were dark blue, and they were in Farian runes. He recognized it as Farian programming code, and though there were thousands of runes scrolling by every second, he could somehow understand it all.
How is this possible? What is happening to me?
The mystic’s voice responded, still sounding both near and far, and he could feel the deep pride of the teacher within the words as they caressed him.
~ You have reclaimed the self that is you. The evil thing that wished to consume you is gone, but its tools are still within you and are now yours. Use them. You are Skarl, but not only Skarl. You are now truly unique, my favorite student. ~
Behind the code, he could see two faces looming over him and staring at him with their dead, evil eyes. It was the changed, and they seemed to be waiting for something as they continued to peer at him. They are waiting to see if I am one of them, he realized as he saw Urlak holding his encrypted personal datapad within its right hand.
He felt connected to it somehow, as if it was a part of him. The Farian programming code should have been disturbing him more than anything else, but it seemed like a natural function to him, like how one doesn’t think about breathing.
He felt expanded somehow, as if he was more than what he used to be, and he became aware of billions of tiny objects inside of him, no longer trying to take him but now under his control. Glancing back at the datapad, he felt the urge to become one with it, as if it was an extension of himself.
Reaching out with his mind towards the datapad, he felt a small part of himself entering it and examining the contents. They had been trying to break the encryption, and he found himself laughing in his mind at their crude attempts to brute-force their way into it.
As if he had been a master programmer his whole existence, he intrinsically knew how to manipulate the device and all its parts as he acted on an idea that came to him. In just a few seconds, he was done, and he prepared himself for his next move.
Urlak and Jirll were still staring at him intently, and he envisioned the dead eyes and moronic smiles they had when they ambushed him at the door in his mind before making his face do the same for their benefit.
He saw their eyes change as he made the face, and they made their own smiles in response, thinking he was now one of them. It was almost time, and he spoke for the first time as he felt his connection to the datapad keeping tabs on the self-destruct he had set.
“Thank you for blessing me and allowing me to fully serve the Masters.”
They smiled more widely at his words as they stepped back to give him space to get up, looking positively maniacal as their mouths stretched far further than a real Farian would ever do.
He got up slowly, aware of a dull pain in his neck that limited his head movement. A small graph appeared in his sight, showing a diagram of where his neck had been broken by Jirll from behind when they attacked him.
The diagram also showed that it had been repaired. They had injected him with nanobots that tried to change him into one of them, and now he knew what the invader was. It was a self-aware program created by the Masters for this very purpose, but it did not work this time; he was still Skarl.
He had complete and total control of the nanobots within him, and they were tools that would do as he wished. He was now standing and facing them, and he reached a hand towards the datapad.
“I will decrypt that for you. I have the cipher in the desk draw.” Urlak handed the device to him without hesitation, and he took it, smiling at him like a fool. “Wait here.”
He turned around and walked over to the desk, going around it until he was in front before reaching down and opening a drawer. He pulled out a random data chip from his pile of reports and slipped it into the data port, feeling the cool, smooth surface of the crystal as he readied himself for what was to come next.
He tapped on the screen and entered his real code to unlock the device before looking back up at them. There were four seconds left before the self-destruct activated, and he smiled at them again for a second before speaking. “Here.”
He tossed it towards them, both their faces still smiling moronically as the datapad hit Urlak in the chest and bounced off before it clattered on the floor right in front of them.
Urlak looked down at it stupidly as Jirll’s smile vanished and its dead eyes widened with confusion when he saw Skarl’s face. Skarl was no longer smiling now, and his face was filled with pure hate as he twisted his lips into a feral snarl. Jirll grabbed Urlak by the arm to pull him away, but it was already too late as the micro batteries of the datapad ignited.
Skarl ducked down just in time to avoid the small explosion as the datapad self-destructed, sending hundreds of polymer/steel alloy shards in all directions, mostly into their bodies as some of the fragments impacted against the desk.
Skarl felt his connection to the datapad sever itself, and he surged out from behind the desk and into the white cloud of fire suppression chemicals pouring out of a nozzle directly over them that had emerged from the ceiling.
He could see just fine through the thick particulate clouds as the blue lines of code became nearly translucent, and his vision was enhanced. Their two bodies were outlined by a faint yellow border, several graphs appearing that highlighted the extent of their injuries and current physiological states.
They were both severely wounded, and they would die shortly without medical intervention. He reached Urlak first and stood over it, looking down at the comatose agent. More graphs appeared, and he could feel the nano swarms within Urlak trying to connect with his own swarms.
Fury arose within him as he blocked the joining attempt, all the anger and hate he held for the Masters and their changed coming to a boiling point. He kneeled and grasped Urlak’s bloody head between his hands.
He could feel the nano swarms responding to his action and sending themselves to his hands and arms to enhance them for what was to come. “This is for the millions of innocent eggs and hatchlings you murdered.” He whispered quietly before he squeezed the skull.
The skull exploded within his grasp, and Urlak’s body twitched several times as the lungs still tried to draw air, the terrible sounds of the agonal breathing disturbing Skarl greatly. He moved his hands down a little further and squeezed again, crushing what remained of the brainstem with ease.
The breathing stopped, and he became aware of the sounds of approaching footsteps outside in the corridor, even though the thick, armored door to the quarters was sealed. He did not have much time left, and he quickly crawled over to Jirll and grasped its head.
“This is for Director Hurlt, and all the others who died because of you and the Masters you serve.” He whispered again before squeezing, the skull cracking as he crushed it with barely any effort.
He relished the warm wetness of its brain squelching through his fingers as he closed his hands into fists, and he ignored the sudden loud banging on the door as he stood up and walked over to the wash basin behind his desk.
He began to clean the blood and viscera off his hands in the warm water that came out of the automated spout, and he did not turn around as the door lock was overridden and armed Ma’lit servant androids entered, followed by two Ma’lit exosuits with the faint shimmering of activated shields surrounding them.
The air filtration systems activated, and he finally turned around to see three Ma’lit androids pointing neuro-stunners at him from two hops away. One of the Ma’lit exosuits pointed all its exterior cameras at him, and he could hear them whirring slightly as the suit speakers activated.
“Ambassador Skarl, are you wounded? What happened here?”
He didn’t respond at first, fascinated by the graphs and scanning results being displayed in his eyes as the nano swarms within him repeatedly tried to provide information despite their scanning attempts failing to penetrate the personal shields surrounding the Ma’lit exosuits.
“My apologies, Honored elders. I can explain everything that has been happening, but first we need to seize every single member of my ambassadorial staff immediately before the others on this station are hurt or killed.
You will need to subdue them all with your androids and stunners. Some of my staff are innocent while others may be extremely dangerous; I do not know which ones have been compromised until I have a chance to see for myself.”
Outside in the corridor, loud voices could now be heard as well as the easily recognizable clomping sound of another Ma’lit exosuit approaching his quarters. The frantic voices were speaking in Republic standard, and he reached for his translator attached to the upper part of his robe to activate it.
Before he activated it, he saw the semi-translucent lines of code shifting in his vision before a diagram of his auditory canal appeared, and the nanobots located there formed a connection to his brain from his hearing organs.
He could suddenly understand what was being said, and he dropped his hand, marveling at his new capabilities as he listened to new arrivals still outside in the corridor. “No, we will not leave! Ambassador Skarl sent us both several messages, and we will not leave until we see for ourselves that he is okay! Now step aside, android, or I will have my Pathfinders give you an oil change!”
A synthesized voice responded obsequiously, the servant android’s algorithms determining this behavioral response as the best option to diffuse the situation it was currently facing. “I regret to inform you that I do not have hydrocarbon-based oil within my biochemical systems, Madam President. Our circulatory systems are lubricated by a silicon-based matrix composed of-”
“Step aside, Android Seven-C.” Another voice called out, easily identified as coming from Ma’lit suit speakers. The two Ma’lit exosuits facing Skarl turned around to greet the newcomers, and he could see another exosuit entering the quarters, followed by a party of humans.
“Skarl, Are you okay?” Ambassador Buncomme called out as he ran towards Skarl, his face lined with worry. He stopped one hop away, almost as if he was afraid to proceed any further. Skarl could not bear the look in the human’s eyes as they roamed all over him, looking to make sure he was okay.
Seeing the earnest care for his wellbeing on his human friend’s face affected Skarl deeply, and he looked down at the tiled floor, unable to bear the shame of his behavior on the station since the beginning of the talks.
“Skarl, it’s okay. I know you only had to act the way you did to save your people, and I just want you to know that I understand, and I will not offer to forgive you, for there is nothing to forgive. What happened, Skarl? Are you okay?”
Still looking down, a low moan escaped Skarl’s lips as he flicked his head rapidly several times, extremely distressed by all that had been happening. He suddenly saw bare human feet entering his field of vision as Ray stepped closer to him, and for a moment, his distress went away as he stared at them, deeply fascinated by how disgusting they were.
I didn’t know they had fingers on their feet, he thought to himself before he saw the foot fingers flexing, and a shiver of revulsion shot up his spine at the sight. The disgusting feet took another step towards him, and then he suddenly felt arms wrap around him.
It was more than he could take, and he began to grieve-moan uncontrollably as his human friend continued to embrace him. After a few moments, Ray let go of him and stepped back, and Skarl forced himself to look away from the horrendous feet and at the face of his human friend. “Ray, I do not...”
“Later, Skarl. It’s not important now. What the hell happened to those two? Did you do that to them both?” Ray asked quietly, his eyes swimming into Skarl’s intently. Flicking his head in acknowledgment, Skarl looked over to where the two changed were still lying on the floor among the puddles of blood and viscera.
A wave of nausea came over him as he stared at the pulps of flesh where their heads used to be, and it was all he could do to stop himself from throwing up the contents of his stomachs onto the floor. “The others... I need to see if the others have been changed. They must be rounded up and—”
Skarl stopped speaking and snapped his head towards the cooling unit, forgetting all about the catalyst until now. The door was slightly ajar, and he felt his stomachs flip as he tried to remember if he had fully closed the door when he opened it before.
I am sure I closed it.
Ray noticed him looking at the cooling unit and followed his gaze. “What’s wrong, Skarl?” Skarl didn’t respond to him, still staring at the cooling unit. “Oh shit, Skarl! You said the catalyst was in a bottle of Farian Cider, right?”
Ray’s words snapped Skarl out of his freeze state, and he frantically hopped over, rapidly closing the distance in three hops before yanking the cooling unit door fully open. Ray had followed him and came to a stop right behind him, his heavy breathing hitting the back of Skarl’s neck.
Skarl found himself unable to speak, and he moaned in despair as his worst fears were confirmed. The bottle of Farian Cider, 3rd Harvest, was gone. He felt Ray's hand on his shoulder, and he listened as Ray called out to warn everyone of what was happening. Before Ray could finish explaining the danger, there was another sound from outside the quarters, sounding like it was coming from another part of the station.
Boom.
What do you think of the chapter? Let me know!
