> Waevon-thul Prefecture • Dairea Commonwealth • The Slipwail
> Sixteen Hours After Evacuation_
Long ago, the Embrace was a halo of hundreds of trillions of stars suspended in a blanket of endless night. At the height of those halcyon days, the supermassive black hole at its heart had been shackled, denied a steady diet of stars by the magical workings of an ancient species long forgotten.
An eternity later, the fetters were broken, and the beast was set loose. Now, all that anyone could tell was that things had been different once, long before history began.
The Embrace continued its relentless march away from its violent origin, inching toward the shape of what it would become. The stars that made up its body were swaddled in a pair of massive silver nebulae cast off from its broken chains, which stretched from one end of the celestial horizon to the other—the arms of the Embrace. Within those encircling arms was everything that anyone had ever known.
As sapient creatures explored the cloudy regions of its twisted shape, they landed upon the celestial shores of great stellar foundries nestled in curtains of flame, drifted among stars that blossomed in verdant groves, charted worlds bound by spun webs of glittering gold, and much much more.
Those first peoples gave those regions lofty names that reflected their boundless curiosity: the Cinderclutch, the Nyreil Grove, the Artassus Veil. Each place christened became the beachhead for a new launch into the unknown. Behind them were the Charted Regions, and before them lay a rainbow of endless possibilities stretched across a shimmering curtain of silvered night.
Selema-vass’s gaze settled on the bag of high-nutrient rations stuffed between the forward seats, utterly ignorant of the wonder outside her window. Her mind was bent towards more practical, immediate concerns: calculating how long the stores would hold, how long the rebreather enchantments were meant to last, and whether or not she would be retrieved.
Above all else, she tried to think of something to say to her liege lord so she wasn’t murdered. Her academic pursuits and vaunted curiosity played a distant second when compared to preserving her life. The stars would wait.
Her primary concern was the Waevon-thul Foundation. The Foundation had a reputation for being completely amoral in its crusade to maximize profits, and that reputation was well-earned. When compared to the other superguilds that formed the government of the Dairea Commonwealth, Waivon-thul was a force unto itself, backed by ironclad treaties and cunning Minster Generals who wielded its military like a hammer, anvil, and scalpel all in one.
The Sovereign Director of Waevon-thul had spent the last three-quarters of a century outmaneuvering its political and economic rivals on the Dairea Quorum with the same ease that Selema-vass drew breath. Rumor had it that the Sovereign’s position was made permanent through a sealed pact signed by Waevon-thul’s shareholder nobility a half-century ago, and she was inclined to believe it. You didn’t reach that dizzying height without discarding your morals along the way, and probably a few additional things as well.
While the person at the top might not change in the near future, upward mobility wasn’t impossible. When you were hired or purchased, you did what you were assigned and gained contribution credits according to your station. If you were a laborer, you either negotiated with a rival to buy out your contract or earned enough to close it out. If you were an indentured employee, your debt was either passed to your descendants upon your death, or you were asked if you wished to renegotiate your contract.
Some made it out of the muck. Others didn’t.
Selema-vass had come to the Commonwealth looking to leverage her anthropology skills and had made a tidy sum doing it. Like almost everyone else, she planned on leaving when her contract was up, but her skills had made waves in interesting places—less-than-legal places. So, she stayed for new and exciting work with the intention to make tracks as soon as she had the opportunity. Others in her position found it more challenging to leave the Commonwealth once they were in, joining the ranks of the indentured. Then there were the lifers—those who stayed for the love of the game, taught their children to love the game, and worked to set up their petty fiefdoms within the Commonwealth machine.
Baron Festalar Tokul was one of those; ambitious, driven, and willing to break guild policy to secure his advancement. Purchasing debt from outside the Commonwealth was an approved method to secure personnel for a new project, but doing it off-book? Using mercenary strength to secure an unlicensed transport? Storing unknown artifacts in unsanctioned locations? Clandestine auction negotiations?
If his superiors found out, it would have been enough to halt his advancement for decades or force an official censure. But in Selema-vass’s estimation, every step of the way had left less than a whisper in its wake. Nobody knew what was happening out here in the fringes of the Prefecture; all according to plan.
Then, just before they reached their drop point in the Tangles, the indentured on board had decided they wanted to pick a fight. Even that had been anticipated and planned for, but the release of the Baron’s “precious cargo” had turned their clean-up into an absolute nightmare. She had tried to salvage it, of course; press Ulketh into following her plan, reduce asset loss by being more systematic, and when things went sideways, she even gambled on grabbing the crown jewel of the anthropological hoard. If she had been able to drag Amelin with her, she wouldn’t be racking her brain to come up with a way to placate the Baron now.
But there was something there—some reaction to her subtle charms that could be exploited.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Selema-vass played it over in her head; a subtle intonation coupled with a flick of her wings, and moments later Amelin had crumpled to the ground incapacitated. Stupified was a more apt description; she acted like Selema-vass had dosed her with Gleam instead of just nudging the conversation in her favor. Maybe that was worth mentioning. She doubted it was enough to save her life—the Baron could find another Kharaje somewhere easily enough—but it was in the realm of keeping her valuable.
She thought back to Amelin’s ramblings while she idly nibbled at a protein ration. Most of what the creature said while hallucinating was gibberish, but during her periods of lucidity, she had said enough to validate some of Selema-vass’s more outlandish theories. Whatever chamber the objects had come from was constructed in an attempt to reactivate the sarcophagus—the “chrysalis,” as Amelin had called it. What happened from there was anyone’s guess; though since she was inside it when she awoke, it was possible she had some understanding of how it worked.
When Selema-vass and her team were introduced to the artifacts, their objective was to identify them, determine whether any useful technology could be gleaned from their construction, and catalog them for auction. Within days, they had strong suspicions that the bulk of the artifacts were worthless. Everything that they had uncovered and cataloged outside of the chrysalis was antiquated by the most generous standards of the modern day.
The chrysalis itself was a very different story: technology so ancient that it predated any known species within the Embrace. Prehistoric technology like the chrysalis had caused significant leaps in numerous scientific and arcane fields in the past. There was no telling how suspended animation could change the Embrace. That sort of knowledge could redraw the map, in the right hands, perhaps even add to it.
After their preliminary summary, Selema-vass had pushed for the creature to be removed from its internment, dispatched, and autopsied at a later date. In her mind, the chrysalis was the prize. There was resistance to her idea from several members of the support staff, which she now found herself in complete agreement with: Amelin was more useful to her and her liege lord alive. Her technical acumen was the key; and if she could be persuaded to lead Selema-vass to an undiscovered treasure trove of ancient artifacts, even better.
Selema-vass’s wings fluttered in anticipation as she finished her protein ration, pitched the seat back to a reclining state, and awaited pickup. There was plenty more work to be done.
----------------------------------------
Under Baron Tokul's relentless scrutiny, Selema-vass felt a chill settle over her, her usual intensity dampened by the man's imposing presence. He was tall for an Auredal, perhaps six and a half feet in height, and covered in sizable nodules of living metal that was the hallmark of his species.
She had always been the type to shrink back from confrontation, to avoid drawing attention to herself at all costs, but this man carried himself with an air of quiet confidence. As she watched Baron Tokul pace in front of his desk, she began to sense something more beneath his cool exterior—a glimmer of respect, perhaps, or even approval.
"Selema-vass," Baron Tokul began, his voice measured and deliberate, "you have borne witness to a crucial moment in our operation. While the mutiny aboard the undesignated vessel was one of the eventualities that we had planned for, the awakening of the creature within the artifact was not. Your actions, though fraught with risk, have not escaped my notice."
Selema-vass's heart skipped a beat, a flicker of hope igniting within her. This was completely unlike any other debrief she had been to, where supervisors would use any pretense to dock contribution credits and tighten the noose. Could it be that Baron Tokul had other ideas?
"Ulketh is an acceptable loss, given the circumstances,” he said, rounding his desk and sitting down behind it, “and the loss of mercenary strength does not concern me.”
“Your initiative, while unorthodox, hints at a deeper understanding of the artifact and its occupant," Baron Tokul continued, his piercing gaze unwavering. “And I applaud your resourcefulness and skill in this matter. I wish to have a full accounting as to the events that occurred after communications were severed during the mutiny."
Selema-vass swallowed hard and then began the tale. The more she spoke, and the more that the Baron responded in kind, the more she found that she had more to offer. Selema-vass could feel the weight of Baron Tokul's gaze bearing down on her, but she pushed on, her earlier fear replaced by a fierce determination to show her value, just as she had planned.
She laid out the details of her discoveries and painted a vivid picture of recent events. Baron Tokul encouraged her to share her speculation and reasoning behind her actions, many of which were met with a nod of approval.
The conversation was unlike any that she had been a part of before. He was treating her like a peer.
She mentioned the creature’s rather intense reaction to Kharaje influence, and as she explained Amelin's behavioral changes his expression shifted from skepticism to something resembling genuine interest. She knew that she had finally found her moment to shine. The thrill of validation pulsed through her veins, driving her forward with a renewed sense of purpose.
By the time Selema-vass finished speaking over two hours later, the tension in the room had dissipated, replaced by an air of anticipation. She may have started out as an anthropologist attempting to save her own skin, but in that moment, she felt more alive than ever before.
"What do you propose we do with this information, Lady Renelat?" Baron Tokul finally spoke, his voice betraying a hint of intrigue. He had named her Lady. A field promotion to Knight? Her mind swam with the possibilities, but she steadied herself and pressed on.
“The most prudent thing to do would be to renegotiate your terms with the buyer; now that the cargo’s value is clear and we are in a secure position within the prefecture’s borders, there is no risk to our side.”
“An interesting proposition, and one I agree with” he said with the bare hint of a smile on his face. His hand gestured in midair, and the door opened behind her. As the baron’s orderly stepped into the room, his shadow curled around her like smoke, cloaking her in newfound authority. “Thank you for your candor on this matter, Lady Selema-vass Renelat. My orderly will see you to your new quarters. Once a plan of action has been decided, I will make sure that you are informed and invited to the bridge.”
“My lord, I await your summons,” she said, giving him a deep bow. Baron Tokul nodded and turned to the wall behind him as she walked out the door. Additional guards moved in to flank her as she moved—an honor guard? Without a doubt, she knew that she had earned her place at his side. Not as one of his various researchers, employees, or independent contractors, but as an ally.
Before today, wealth and knowledge were reason enough for her to ply her trade in this Kingdom, and she was willing to be as unscrupulous as necessary to attain both. She cared very little for the politics of this part of the Embrace. But this Baron had changed something within her with just a conversation.
All that was left was to retrieve what was lost.