Cynop stared at the strange information coming over his console. The signature looked like some kind of solar storm or other electromagnetic phenomenon, but it sat still in the middle of the aether.
“Brift, what am I looking at?” he asked.
“I don’t know, sir,” answered the pilot honestly. “It could be some kind of EM being. Hopefully it’s not an aether beast.”
“If there’s any chance of that we’d better be ready to run,” answered Cynop. He didn’t let the fear creep into his voice, but the thought terrified him. “I think it's time we sent a ripmed message back to Griffonia.”
“I… can't, sir,” replied Brift. “Something’s freezing our electronics. Engines aren't responding, either.”
Cynop blanched, and opened the public comms channel. “All personnel to stations.”
The quiet ship bustled to life as confused sailors obeyed the order.
“What is it, sir?” asked a junior officer.
“Not sure yet,” answered Cynop. “Just get to your station and be ready.”
Soon a purple dot appeared from the direction of the anomaly, filling up more and more of Cynop’s view until he could make out a series of metal ships or containers within the amethyst-colored EM field.
“We're going to hit that thing head on!” he cried.
“I don't think so, Captain,” said Brift, voice thick with concern. “I think it's pulling us in.”
Cynop muttered a quick prayer. “Gunners, get ready! Comms, reach out to that… thing! Engineer Brift, keep trying those engines!”
“Nothing's responding, sir,” said Brift. “I'm afraid we're just going to have to ride this out.”
As the Dart approached the strange object, Cynop started to make out more details. The purple aura shimmered and crackled, almost certainly causing the EM anomaly they'd first detected. The cars inside resembled massive metal towers turned sideways, and none appeared to have anything Cynop could identify as an engine. The last car in the train had a massive ring around it, and it looked like a team of welders was still working on it judging by the sparks flying off at various points. The ring was big enough to fit at least five of the cars through side by side, but it was still contained inside of the purple field.
Most of the sailors had left their stations to stare out of the viewport at the anomalous structure.
Cynop gathered his nerve, speaking in as calm, authoritative voice as possible. “Back to your stations, sailors! We'll get a closer look at this thing soon from the way things are going, but we will not miss a chance to speak, fight, or fly away if we're given one!”
To their credit, the sailors obeyed immediately. However, the chance to do anything never came. They passed into the purple field, which stripped their shields but left their ship intact. A door, hinged almost like a jaw, opened on the foremost car and swallowed the Dart. Cynop trembled as the Dart came to a sudden halt and the gaping maw behind the ship closed, the barren hangar darkening as the door slowly closed behind them.
***
Raivyn was still furious when she got back to the Wingspan. Lawbine had walked quietly beside her, knowing her well enough not to prod her when she was in this particular mood.
“Sorry that went so poorly,” said Lawbine when he figured the worst of the storm had likely passed.
She rounded on him, looking ready to tear into him, but she relented, letting out a big breath. “Yeah, I'm sorry you and Van seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“Oh, just two fighting men and their egos, I'm sure we’ll get used to each other,” said Lawbine smoothly. “It’s hard not to feel a sense of competition. Don't like seeing him talk to you that way, though.”
“Well, Van’s just… Van,” she said with a shrug. “We've always had a kind of fiery rapport, but… he's a good guy.”
“If you say so, Rai,” said Lawbine with a nod.
She looked at him side-eyed but said nothing.
Behind them, the Drihn took off into the aether. Raivyn turned and watched it, a wistful look in her eyes. She shook her head and turned back towards the Wingspan.
***
The next day or so was a struggle. There was very little to be done, so Raivyn had gotten Hunt's permission to spend some time training with Elder Shaman Rehkna. She'd hardly seen her since they'd landed, but the shaman had become a close friend and mentor in the short time they'd known each other.
They sat cross-legged just outside Rehkna’s house, which was a simple, secluded building tucked away by the palace.
“That is why it's valuable to communicate with animals, even though they cannot form words or understand like sapients do,” the shaman said. “The nature of lesser creatures may be simpler, but they do reflect the glory of the Progenitor in their own way.”
“How did you view such things before our arrival?” asked Raivyn.
Rehkna considered the question carefully. Though Rehkna had been promised in a vision that visitors would one day come bearing the truth, she had largely adhered to the polytheistic traditions of her ancestors. “Much the same. More credence was given to animals as omens, but the Solarans teach against such divination. I still feel the study of animals has much to teach us.” She watched a lizard crawl through the garden. “Here is a subject, or perhaps teacher, now. Join me.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Rehkna cast her T-waves out until they formed a kind of bubble around Raivyn, the lizard and herself. Applied to sapients, the ability allowed for clear communication that could overcome language barriers. Applied to beasts, it simply gave greater insight into the creature’s motives and emotions.
The first thing Raivyn felt was a wash of alertness. Small creatures like this lizard tended to have a kind of situational awareness that kept them from becoming easy prey. The next feeling was a strange feedback loop of mutual acknowledgement. The lizard seemed to look at both of them as if to say, “Who invited you into my mind?” There was a spark of anticipation and something Raivyn could only describe as “joy.” She looked over and saw that Rehkna was picking a berry from one of the bushes in her yard, and offering it to the lizard. He took it greedily and scampered away, the psychic connection severing when he’d left the area of effect.
Rehkna laughed. “Funny little creatures. They’re bold for their size and I believe they would risk anything for a sweet, ripe berry.”
“And what does that teach us?” asked Raivyn.
The elder shaman smiled and shrugged. “To take joy in the small things. Beasts like our friend here are too simple to dwell on their struggles, and a berry will always give them a spark of joy. We are so burdened with thoughts, conflicts, and intentions that we may eat a bowl full of berries without tasting a single one.”
Raivyn nodded, chewing over the sentiment without feeling the need to expand on the thought.
“Let us go inside for some tea,” said Rehkna, rising.
Raivyn joined her, pouring water from a tall cistern in the corner into the open jug Rehkna used as a teapot. Soon the little house was filled with the warm, comforting smell of herbal tea and Raivyn was sitting at a table across from Rehkna.
“Tell me, Raivyn, who is this Lawbine I have heard about?” asked the shaman.
“Oh, he’s an Aeratan Naval Operator,” said Raivyn, “as well as a childhood friend. I’m acting as his liaison to the Republic Navy while he’s with us.”
“I see,” said Rehkna. “And how is Vanbrook?”
“Still a petulant child,” said Raivyn, smiling mirthlessly.
“I had heard you two were finally courting,” said Rehkna calmly. “Is that not true?”
“Oh, it’s true,” said Raivyn. “But he seems intent on finding new ways to annoy me. I- I guess it’s not going so well.”
“Be patient with him, child,” said Rehkna. “I wish to see your children before I die of old age.”
Knocked sideways across the head by the comment, Raivyn sprayed a mouthful of tea over Rehkna’s table.
***
Darvik flicked the lights on. They hummed to life with a flicker, illuminating a small, square room that Trebor insisted wasn’t a jail cell. Again, it was part of the agreement that had kept him from facing a firing squad, a fate he’d earned when he murdered his old friend Wilbis in a drunken rage.
Trebor had made his case directly to Executor Grak-Yurp, claiming that Darvik had been invaluable in defeating the Koomites. Not only had Darvik sparked the revolt that freed them from the aether beast-worshiping death cult, but he also played a pivotal role in destroying High Priest Hoon-Kra’s psychic amplifier. The amplifier was meant to drag the galaxy into war and terror by artificially expanding Koo L’Koom’s aura, which induced madness in psychics.
It was all true, of course, but Darvik had still been surprised the day Trebor walked into his cell and explained the deal. He’d almost rejected it and let justice take its course. He wasn’t sure he wanted to live, anyway. Cevla, a psychic Human female he’d met in the cult, had been killed in the revolt that had freed Talon Squad and the RTS agents with them. Darvik found himself wondering if she could have gotten the same deal he had if she’d lived. Or if she had been starting to feel the way about him that he’d felt about her. Cevla was barely a friend, but she had been there with him through so much. And then she was gone again. Killed by Trilia, a powerful Astralbian psychic who currently held the title of High Priestess of the Koomites.
But ultimately, it wasn’t to save his own hide, to follow a strong leader like Trebor, or even to get revenge that he decided to keep going and take the opportunity for redemption. Ultimately it was because of the vision he’d had while on Koo L’Koom.
A strange figure had told him that he had plans for him. Nothing of the sort had happened since, and Darvik had begun to wonder if the whole thing was just something he’d imagined in the throes of madness. If it was, he had no idea how he’d managed to personally overcome Koo L’Koom’s aura.
Shaking his head to try to clear it, he changed out of his street clothes and put on sweatpants and an old shirt, crawled into the small bed in the corner and flicked the switch on the wall, falling into another night of lonely, restless sleep.
***
The Drihn sailed smoothly through the aether on its jump to Gateway, and, despite Vanbrook's romantic woes, the trip was pleasant. Reclan spent a good deal of time with Vritik and Ytriv. Vanbrook found it intolerable to spend too much time around the three of them, given how often the conversations turned towards highly technical aspects of astrodynamics.
The boredom was broken suddenly when the ship came out of its jump. The drive worked flawlessly, the massive photon shriveling away and disappearing on command, leaving the ship to be driven by the thrust engines for the remainder of the journey. However, someone was waiting for them and lasers crashed into the Drihn’s shields before the thrusters could spin up.
“What was that?” asked Hrake, turning to his crew.
“We have ships approaching from multiple directions, Captain,” said Dhraka. “They were waiting for us.”
Hrake frowned. They hadn't exactly been secretive about the Drihn’s maiden voyage, but they hadn't expected to garner any unwanted attention, either.
“Get weapons at the ready and prepare to return fire. And try to reach the attackers on comms. Perhaps this was only a warning shot.”
A second volley of laser fire disproved the theory.
“Return fire as soon as you have a target!” said Hrake, amending his earlier order.
“It's the Ramshackle Collective,” said Dhraka. “I'm surprised they're still active in this area.”
Hrake stepped over to Dhraka’s console. The three pirate ships were in ragged condition, the masts that stood on the open decks missing half or more of the solar panels that powered them, but they were unmistakably of Ramshackle design.
“Most likely they're just a desperate remnant left behind after the Cornucopia War,” said Hrake. “Let us demonstrate the power of the Hrudukite Navy.”
“Yes, sir!” answered Dhraka with a grin.
The pirates had been careful to maneuver themselves to three of the ship’s corners, avoiding the massive array of broadside cannons. However, the Drihn sported a row of turrets along both its spine and belly, and they now swung into position to begin firing on the ships. All three had hastily-built armored plates on their prows, and were heading straight for the ship rather than swinging broadside to maximize their firepower.
“All personnel, don aethersuits immediately,” ordered Hrake. “Gunners, rotate out to keep up our barrages while you gear up. All non-combat personnel report to the brig immediately. Any combat personnel assigned to brig duty, go with them to protect them if necessary. Everyone else, prepare for extra-vehicular activity.”
“What's the plan, Captain?” asked Dhraka.
“I believe the pirates intend to board us and take the ship,” said Hrake, a smile breaking out on his face. “I intend to board them first.”