The deadline had been given, and – once having slept finally – Kourin spent the better part of the day packing a light carry-bag, the nanotech containment-pod, and cleaning-up her apartment. As the sun began to set, she locked the door one last time, and made her way out onto the street.
Most of Stoneface Bluffs was developed in service to the research campus, within which her own home-office was built. But by the end of the night, everything would change. The last shuttle from the apartments was leaving as she got on, and she looked around at those familiar sights as they passed her by for the last time. It felt like it was too soon that the shuttle stopped again, and Kourin quickly hopped out, making room for the techies and developers who were wanting to get on to go the other way.
“Kourin?” Someone’s voice asked, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be off?”
She lifted her head to the voice and saw a colleague, but just offered a simple wave and started walking towards an employee-footpath to the front door, “I was just returning this thing.” She nudged her head at the obvious soccer-ball-sized sphere in a bag hanging from her left shoulder, “I keep hearing that I shouldn’t take my work home with me, after all.”
“Is that the Luminary pod? The Magistrate was looking for it earlier today.”
Kourin stopped, “He was? Why?”
“Something about taking them to Oceanside. He didn’t seem bothered by only having the one, though, so I’m sure it’s fine that you had the other. He did put you in charge of looking at it, after all.”
She hesitated a moment, but then smiled warily, “Yeah, probably fine. Have a good night. I’ll see you when I’m back.”
The colleague turned on her heel and waved as well before reaching for the handle-bar to board the shuttle, “Don’t work too hard! You’re not getting paid right now!”
“Thanks! I will anyway!” Kourin hastily made her way up the footpath beside the main concourse, and in through the front doors. The building seemed like a tomb without the rest of the staff there, but as the last of the employees left – and Kourin assured them she’d leave soon as well, and activate the security system on her way out – the doors were closed. Kourin left the pod on her desk at first, and went to the front doors to make sure at least the inner set was secured. She looked at the alarm-kiosk on the wall nearby, but passed it entirely, and went back to her cubicle.
Hands trembled a little bit as she sat down for a moment, and thought through her plan one last time. Once the sun had set a little further on the horizon though, and the light coming into that first level of the facility dimmed to near-darkness, it was time. She sucked in a breath, grabbed her things – as well as the bag with the containment-pod – and made her way to the rear stairwell.
She began to strategically lock and open different doors. All the way down to the holding-block, where she passed by the interfolding walls that hid her from Scyrexianori’s view. She knew it could sense her, but she had no business with it anymore. The deal was done; it needed only to be executed. Quietly, she made her way over towards the storage shelves, and placed the pod into the spot its companion once occupied, “The next time we see each other, it’ll be in person. We’ll never need nanotech ever again.” She spoke quietly, and set her palm to the face of the pod one last time.
Then, it was time to go up the stairs, to the pharmaceutical floor. One of the inventory rooms had been repurposed for Prince Aamin, and that was her ultimate destination. There was no hesitation; she tapped her finger on the door, and pushed it open.
“…Who are you?” Were his first words; he looked far better than he had before, though not completely healed. Where once was ragged exposed flesh was now a layer of regrown skin, red and dappled, eyelid sunken-in where the orb within once sat. His accommodations looked less like a hospital and more like a small hotel, and he’d been allowed to dress in garb more-suited to his station – though lacking the traditional pseudo-armor of Sargonian royalty. He rose-up from the cushy-chair he’d been sitting in, and set aside the FlexiGlas tablet he’d been reading from, “What’s the meaning of this?”
“The Duchess has called for you to come to Oceanside.” Kourin lied, “As you know, it’s a sensitive transfer, so it can’t be done publicly. We had to wait until the shop closed before we could bring the ship in. It’s docked in the hangar, waiting for you to board.”
“I wasn’t made aware of this.”
“You’ve been made aware now. If you please…” Kourin gestured at the door, “Once you’ve arrived, you’ll be assessed for ocular transfer. The Duchess intends to make you look presentable.”
“I ask again, who are you?” Aamin kept his distance.
“You don’t need to know my name. My purpose is to carry out the Duchess’ will. Now, you can follow me down or I can call for assistance to bring you down.” She warned, and started to make her way out through the door again.
Aamin was intensely suspicious – the very presence of the backpack and carry-bag gave him little confidence – but the gaping door was too tempting, and he made himself follow. It was his first foray into the building that wasn’t obscured by the pain of his burns or the manic activity of the doctors who’d come to work on him, but Kourin was walking quickly, and it didn’t leave him much time to gander. There were no alternative paths for him to go anyway, as most of the halls had been closed. He could feel the nerves writhing like snakes in his guts as he started to head down those long, twisting stairs, but once he arrived at the level where Kourin was waiting for him, he made his suspicions known, “You don’t look like someone who’s here to bring me to Oceanside. You look like you’re leaving.”
She stared at him; behind her were the walls that obscured the view of the blasting-chamber, and just beside her were several of the perimeter-cameras that watched it at all times. The pregnant silence was enough to make the Prince a bit skittish, but he was far enough inside the room now that he wouldn’t be able to escape. She activated her Limitless eyes, gestured to cloak herself…and immediately darted for the doors, pulling them shut before he could react.
“What’s going on!? What is this!?” He pleaded, banging on those heavy steel panels. Nothing he did would open them though, and he knew he was trapped, “…I knew this wasn’t right…I knew it… What am I supposed to do now…? Was this a ploy to get me out of the way? To lock me in a room I’m not supposed to be in so the Magistrate finds me later…?”
Kourin hurried the rest of the way down the stairs, and came out into the true hangar. The Sovereign Shadow’s empty docking-space was imposing, but it was hardly the only vessel capable of transport that the facility had on offer. Behind a vertically-sliding panel was a row of hovercycles, used by the facility’s couriers, and she grabbed a set of keys from the lockbox inside the small chamber. Just as she threw a leg over the seat, she heard the eerie sound of a rather powerful crash on the floors above, and felt it in the floor where one foot still stood. She had no regrets, and with a helmet secured, she started the bike’s power-drive. The thick wheels on the front and rear of the sleek vehicle split in half and folded down, with the hub-caps starting to glow and spin as they became parallel to the concrete. The cycle hovered a little, and as Kourin took-hold of the handle-bars, it rose a bit higher. She leaned into it and it began to move forward; another crash and rumble upstairs.
She made it over the plunge-pool and into the woods on the far bank before the force of the facility exploding nearly knocked her off. Taking cover behind a tree, she released her cover and pulled her helmet off, the last wisps of the glow from her eyes fading like smoke into the night. Red and black billowed behind the forest, and Kourin could see arcs of purple light flashing within the conflagration like streaks of lightning. Soon, however, it was just the pitch-black smoke from the resulting fires that could be seen, wafting into the sky and beyond sight into the night.
Kourin was certain she could see the image of a demon emerge from the blaze, massive bat-like wings beating strongly to gain altitude until disappearing entirely under the cover of that darkness…heading east.
.
The lights beaming onto the SSCF Tuonela on the ocean floor systematically shut off, and a loud, groaning sound echoed through the deep. Dust swelled and filled the water as the behemoth vessel began to pull free from its natural mooring. On the bridge – a rather ancient-looking place compared to the technology of Hadira’s present day – four Magistrates supervised the fearful piloting crew.
Dressed in the same white overalls that they’d boarded the ship with over 350 years ago, the six of them looked nervously at one another, trying not to attract notice. The Captain looked at the control panels on either side of his chair at the helm of the room, “…Ascent going smoothly. Breaching the surface in 7 minutes. Lift-engines are nominal. All systems green.”
One Magistrate leaned towards another and whispered, “Incredible. The blending of our technologies like this…”
“We’d never have gotten this relic off the ocean floor without it.” The other answered quietly, “These ships aren’t meant to do anything within an atmosphere except execute a landing. The tsunami this thing created when it hit the water back then…it set Kitez back a hundred years in our attempt to establish a colony here. All that arable land suddenly contaminated by the ocean’s saltwater, all the work that went into decontaminating it…and the Council thinks it can just walk in? We didn’t put all of our blood, sweat, and tears into this place just to let them swoop in as saviors. This land is ours. If they have any sense, seeing this ship will remind them exactly who is control here.”
.
The material uniform of the Council was exactly the same for every soldier beneath the Eidolon; a dark grey form-fitting top with long-sleeves - light-silver trim that ascended the center of the chest and split at a T where it met the top of the high collar around the neck - matching dark-grey pants, elbow-length gloves with that same silver trim around the pointed cuff, and black boots. It’s what the nanotech created above that, that distinguished the rank and Wing. For Captains of the Sixth, that included an ankle-length dark-blue jacket, wide silver pauldrons, and a long decorative dark-blue cape that hung from the back of them.
Furion was still pulling his long, pale-blonde ponytail through a tie at the back of his head; a skinny thing that looked more like a ribbon than hair. He reached the elevator-bay as he finished, and when he arrived on the bridge-level, he found his fellow Captain outside of the meeting room waiting for him, “Thanks for allowing the detour. I feel much better now.”
Scarlet just gave a smirk, “You smell better, too.”
“I’ll bet. Shame about my armor, though…”
“I’ve been saying for years that every SkyFortress should have at least one docking-pod in case a Fafnir visits.”
“Maybe one day…” He agreed, and the double-doors split to open, each panel moving to the sides.
Within, the room looked exactly the same as it did aboard the Aegis, with the oval recess in the floor being illuminated. There were 15 seats around that large table, with a gap at the far end – like the space between the prongs of a horse-shoe – that gave-way to a podium. Seats that were occupied on other vessels were darkened slightly, and the barely-visible holograms of each of those Captains in attendance manifested in each. Every Captain had their assigned spot though, and Furion stepped off to the left, finding his place at the prong of the left bend. Scarlet was close to the southern end, and took her seat; the light above both of them darkened slightly, and they knew their images could now be seen on every ship in the fleet.
Furion looked around the space; once seated, the holograms around the table brightened considerably, and he could hear the idle chatter taking place between the different gathered. Beside him – labeled on the table with the names [Herald] and [Captain Shalico Grimes] – was a woman somewhere between himself and Scarlet in age. She was from the First though, so her colors were purple, and the engravings on her pauldrons showed the stylistic Roman numeral one.
“Evening, Captain.” She said, and pulled a long, thick, salt-and-pepper braid over her right shoulder, and leaned slightly towards him, “Been a while since we crossed paths in person, but it’s good to see you anyway, even if it’s like this.”
“Evening.” He answered back, and leaned his elbows against the table, fingers laced together as he looked at his fellow; ahead of him were similar nameplates with [Aegis] and [Captain Furion Rydell], “I’m sure there’ll be cause soon enough to have a few of us together.”
“Oh, the Dawn of Ages? Only if we go to the same place.” She puffed, “Where do you plan to be?”
“Not entirely sure yet. Maybe Agartha?”
“Boring, but not a bad choice.”
“You, then?”
“Probably somewhere north of there. The crew has been begging for leave in an Alpine climate. Who knew they’d all be so keen for snow-play?”
The final seat on the oval finally dimmed, and the image of [Bulwark] [Captain Tarrock Gallifey] came into view. With all seats occupied, the lights above them all shone a bit brighter, and all eyes turned towards the podium. A hush enveloped the space, and everyone waited with baited breath for the meeting to begin.
Aboard every ship, the mantle of the Eidolon of the Fourth manifested, and to his multitude of eyes, every Captain appeared to be there in person. If anyone was in the wings, however, he couldn’t see. Aboard the Aegis, Rylen was there at his desk in the back corner, with both Seth and Gabriel waiting nearby.
“What happens inside the oval is visible only to those in this room, but those who are inside it can’t see beyond it. The nanotech wall creates the illusion of a one-way mirror, so to speak. Makes it easier to focus.” Rylen explained, “This is the only place where an Eidolon can manifest in multiple places at once, so there’s a version of Xanarken in the presence of every physical Captain. We do that so we can interact in a more personable way, since what we see in the room is the same for everyone else.”
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“Can they hear us?”
“If we speak louder, Xanarken could – and your brother would’ve been able to if he was here in person - but since we’re keeping our voices down, no.” The First answered, “This room is sound-proof. Not even the clandestine listening-apps used by spies can penetrate these walls.”
Gabriel lightly tugged at the collar of his uniform and looked away, feeling those orange eyes on him like burning spotlights.
Xanarken’s voice grabbed their attention then, as the Fourth leaned over the lectern with a mildly-unsettled posture, “Thank you, everyone, for making time for this meeting. I know it was short notice, only being put into your schedules this morning, so I apologize if this is interrupting anything. I feel that it’s somewhat urgent to bring to your attention an event that took place in recent days, however, and it will change the course of the Council’s leadership from here on out.”
Worried eyes looked around the room, but Furion’s gaze was steadfast.
“As you all well-know, the Eidolon of the Council are long-lived beings. Though outside the Hadiran Accord, it’s rampant rumor that we are nothing more than artificial intelligences carrying on the downloaded memories and personalities of men and women who’d died centuries ago, we are, in fact, living beings who are directly interfaced with the World Cloud by means of the Eidolon System. For nearly as long as we’ve been on this rock, the Eidolon System has been used to make our work easier and more accessible for those who need us.
“Now, while this has meant that every handshake and physical gesture has been impeded by the presence of nanotech in the place of flesh, it has also rendered unto us a certain sense of security; knowing that no matter who we meet or where we go, we can be secure in the knowledge that we cannot be hurt. That was, in its original iteration as a scouting program, the entire intent behind the system; making it possible for anyone who used it to be able to go into dangerous places, conduct vital missions, and return completely unharmed. However…this sense of security has been violated.”
Murmurs rose around the room as Captains echoed the words to themselves in confusion.
Xanarken leaned up from the podium, hands gripped lightly to the raised edges on each side. He slowly looked to the faces of every Captain in the room, starting from his left – where Dreadnought Captain Hailey Martel sat – all the way around until he met Furion’s knowing gaze on his right, “While on deployment into the southern hemisphere, the Aegis was stationed nearby to the wreckage of a dead colony ship; the SSCF Sterling Rose. Joining us were the Inquisition ships Fibonacci and Lucas. Our intent, as it always had been when we discovered those ancient artifacts, was to recover the warp core, and add it to our arsenal. These cores are integral to the shielding systems of every SkyFortress, and to a certain extent, making it possible for the World Cloud to operate at all.
“Now…while the Inquisition’s resources have been frantically attempting to understand what happened – and how – the bottom line is that a presence within the warp core was able to reach into the mantle of an Eidolon and cause them physical harm.”
Several Captains stood from their seats, and everyone looked shocked, but none dared speak aloud to interrupt the announcement. They sat again after the initial shock of those words settled in their stomachs.
“Lady Etienne of the Fifth has been diligent in her efforts to make sure that harm wasn’t lasting, but the fact that they were touched at all has caused me to believe it would be prudent to ensure a leadership structure that could outlast any transient interruption to the Eidolon System.” Xanarken continued, and left the lectern to start pacing around the inner ring of the oval, passing behind the seats in succession, “As such, I am brought back around to a rather unfortunate circumstance; that being, all of you.”
Concerned glances went around the room, and Captains started looking nervous.
Rylen huffed quietly to himself, “Here it comes…like a father scolding his belligerent children.”
“Four years ago, I rose Sir Gabriel Lugios into a position of authority within the Fourth. With few exceptions, that authority has only been acknowledged on a surface-level. Salutes given and sirs spoken, but actual respect for that authority was tepid at best.” The Fourth continued sternly, passing behind – and pausing near to – Captain Gallifey’s seat, “Now, it didn’t truly make a difference at the time, since if the Captains of the First and Sixth even interacted with the Fourth, it was infrequent at best…the fact remained that the behavior and attitudes of the Captains filtered down into the lower ranks, and that created an atmosphere that permitted inimical sentiment.” He actually stepped between the chairs then, and set his hands down onto the table – Gallifey on one side, and his unfortunate neighbor, Captain Tonka Landon of the Sixth Wing’s Buckler on the other, “It has never been permitted for the personal feelings of any soldier within the Luminary Council to excuse any resulting disrespect.”
Heads were bent down slightly, but eyes were squarely on the Captain of the Bulwark, whose fiercely antagonistic views towards the alluded soldier had been documented.
Xanarken cast a very deliberate look at Tarrock before pushing off to start his wandering pace again, “But that brings us back to why I called you here.” He started again, hands loosely held behind his back as he came around the bottom of the oval, and into direct sight of Gabriel, Seth and the First, whom he could not see through the veil, but suspected were there, “The impact of the assault on an Eidolon has made me wonder if we would be prepared to lose one. The Luminary Council is supposed to have Six Wings, and yet here we stand with only four. Two Wings have never even had a dedicated Eidolon, and Rylen has had to assume leadership of the First and the Sixth. The Fourth is simply too sprawling and far-reaching to be handled by a single hand; this has become abundantly clear in the last two decades, with hostilities in Sargon, and particularly Kitez, drawing more and more of our energy. My energy. I thought that by creating the High Negotiator rank, the officers of the two fleets would support it and show a united front. That, apparently, was too much to ask without a formal declaration of that intent. So here is my formal declaration…” He was back at the opening in the horse-shoe again, and stepped in between the prongs, “The rank of High Negotiator is abolished. In its place, Sir Gabriel Lugios is now Lord Gabriel Lugios, Vice Eidolon of the Fourth…and you will show proper deference to that authority.”
Gabriel swallowed a nervous breath, and hugged his arms around himself.
“If an Eidolon is ever struck down in any lasting or permanent way, we will need a Chain of Command to know who to turn to next. I have chosen Gabriel as my immediate next-in-line; he will solely have dominion over the politics of the Council within the borders of Sargon and Kitez. His decisions there are my decisions, and if – Heavens portend – I were to suddenly be unable to execute my own duties, it will fall to him to take my place as Eidolon of the Fourth.
“Tensions with Kitez continue to rise.” The Fourth continued grimly, “The Duchess and her puritanical Conclave are presenting more than just bared teeth and thinly-veiled threats. I staved off the most recent attempt at open rebellion by reminding the Duchess who she’s barking at…but I can’t guarantee that will hold for long. My simultaneous hope with promoting Gabriel to Vice Eidolon is to, one, give the Duchess someone else to gnaw on – and perhaps offer a different perspective on how to deal with her – and two, free myself up to deal with everything else. The Hadiran Accord is far too important to sideline because of a yappy little dog who doesn’t know her place.
“Any questions?” He asked with finality.
There was a hesitation, but the Captains started to gather their courage, and Captain Shanti Molinov of of the Sixth Wing’s Warden stood to speak first, “Lord Xanarken…I believe I must first address the perception of disrespect you have foisted onto us.”
“I foisted nothing. I spoke from what I’ve borne witness to with my own eyes and ears.” He parried.
“With all due honesty, sir…a prevailing concern amongst the officers is deeper than simply being blindsided with the supposed higher authority of a Fourth Wing mediator.” She said firmly, “He’s afflicted. More than that, though…he was born afflicted. The entire reason the Six Wings of the Luminary Council rest upon the shoulders of four Eidolon is because of the actions of a man who was also born afflicted.”
Xanarken sneered lightly, “You cannot possibly presume to link the lives of Caeros Vor’antiss with that of Gabriel Lugios. The two are separated by more than three centuries of time, the terraforming of an entire planet, and the cultivation of a whole civilization. They are nothing alike and have nothing close to the same stressors.”
“We don’t know that the nature of their stressors were what led to the ultimate fate of the colony fleet.” Shalico stated, and tapped a finger down onto the oval table, “But there’s a reason why no one in the history of Hadira has ever permitted an afflicted person to assume leadership.”
“And what will you say when the heir apparent of Sargon assumes his throne?”
“I can’t speak to the leadership of outside parties. I can only offer insight towards the views of those within this organization. Soldiers with the affliction are largely corralled into the ranks of the Myrmidon corps, where their power can’t disrupt the day-to-day actions of others. They are masked not just to stave-off dissident attacks against them, but also to contain the miasma coming out of their eyes when they activate it, so no one has to witness it.”
Gabriel felt a knife in his chest to hear those words.
Seth looked on with contempt, “That’s not fair… Without afflicted people, we wouldn’t even have the World Cloud…”
Rylen set his hands onto the edge of his desk and stood up, though as he passed the side of it, he sat back against it instead of continuing towards the oval. Arms crossed over his chest, and he watched, waiting to hear what else his chosen officers had to say.
“Gabriel has been nothing but steadfast in his dedication to the Council since he got here.” Xanarken defended, “I won’t have any of you besmirch his honor with your slander against his affliction. It has never been a part of what he does.”
“That’s because we all know Lord Rylen has insisted he keep it on the down-low.” Shalico answered, and retook her seat defiantly.
“So is that what this is really about?” Xanarken wondered bitterly, looking around the room, “It’s less a petty vendetta against a rank you don’t respect, and more about the fact that that rank is occupied by a user of the Limitless.”
Murmurs answered, but no one stood up to offer a clear answer…until Furion did.
Seth and Gabriel were both on edge when they saw it.
“I believe I can speak more succinctly than most about the views people have about the affliction.” The Captain started, “The very existence of my commission, and the soldiers I lead, are a testament to the threat presented by the Limitless.”
“Furion, no…” Seth whispered, brows wrankled with worry.
“…But, Lord Gabriel Lugios has been a guest aboard the Aegis for a few weeks now.” Furion switched gears, and lifted his head high, “I can attest to his character. He’s not the kind of threat we Fafnir Knights face in the field. He’s been walking a gauntlet of 15 ready and eager warriors, all of whom were waiting for the slightest slip-up…but nothing ever happened. In fact, I can offer two examples…”
Xanarken crossed his arms, but gestured at the man, “Let’s hear them.”
“Yessir.” Furion nodded, “Firstly, one of my lieutenants was partnered with him for a little more than four months. She is adamant about his potential, and if she – the most lethal and effective destroyer of Limitless threats that the Fafnir have seen in generations – will vouch for him without hesitation, then I will as well. Second, when asked by my younger brother, Cadet Setharion Rydell, to aid his cause and then submit to his inquiries with the full use of his affliction, he agreed. Not only did Lord Gabriel agree to be poked, prodded, and used by the Fafnir for our own ends, he gave Cadet Seth access to the Limitless in a way I would never have allowed with any other afflicted person. Lord Gabriel may sometimes have – if you’ll permit the use of the word – a shitty attitude, but I’m certain that if he’s afforded the dignity of his office, and given a chance to do his job without the constant condemnation of people who fear a centuries-old tragedy that he had nothing to do with…he could certainly become exactly who the Fourth Wing is asking him to be. He has the support of the Aegis and the Fafnir Knights.”
The Captains of the Sixth were amused and impressed, giving nods of approval as Furion sat back down again, but those of the First were a bit more skeptical. They all looked to Captain Gallifey, who had yet to offer a single word. Just as he attempted to rise though, Xanarken immediately stopped him.
“No. Not you. Sit down.”
And he did.
Xanarken looked around the room once more, “Let me be clear about one thing,” He started again, “What happened aboard the Bulwark all those years ago was unfortunate, but it was not Gabriel’s fault. He was trying to help someone who was in dire straits, and instead of letting him finish, Captain Gallifey decided to interrupt with prejudice, and his actions led directly to the death of that poor young lady. You’ll all recall that it was he who lost his commission after that, not Gabriel.”
Whispers of grudging acknowledgement sounded…and Rylen finally made his advance.
From within the oval’s visual barrier, the image of the First’s mantle manifested as if stepping through a wall. All Captains rose to salute, but Rylen waved his hand out dismissively, and they sat again, “My brother in the Fourth wasn’t incorrect when he stated earlier that an Eidolon had taken a direct hit. While I appreciate that he never actually stated which of us it was…let me volunteer my truth, because it was me.”
There were gasps and rancor all around, but it was Furion then who rose to quiet them all down, “Let him explain.”
“I mostly disagree with Xanarken’s desire to create mini-Eidolon to stand at the ready to replace us. I view it as nothing more than an admission that the Eidolon are vulnerable, or can simply be swapped-out if one of us isn’t wanted anymore. I know a goodly number of people who would gladly see me removed from my station if the option was presented.” He explained, and stepped into the middle of the oval, “But I also understand that the Fourth is stretched thin at times; managing the interpersonal squabbling of every member-nation in the Hadiran Accord is, without a doubt, a taxing endeavor…and adding the drama with Sargon and Kitez to the bag hasn’t helped. The Fourth and the Sixth have often been in lock-step with one another, each one supporting the other should one of their methods fail. I support Xanarken’s desire to add more hands to the job…so I won’t begrudge him the desire to pawn off some of his duties to someone experienced enough to handle it. I’ve no doubt Gabriel will do just fine. To that end…I’ve put some thought into what it means to be stretched thin, and how power and duty has been consolidated across the years.
“By all measure, I’ve assumed command of over half of the Wings, since the Second was always intended to be responsible for the interface of Limitless and technology. The Inquisitors and their R&D towards the S.D. helmets is one major example of this interface. The World Cloud is another example, which has been dutifully managed by Arbelos all this time, even if he fails to publicly accept that praise.” Rylen said, tracing his fingers across the inner lip of the oval table, “But I can only provide limited oversight on these projects as a man who has no capacity for the topic. As such…I’ve also created a new rank within the Council, with the eventual intent of resurrecting the Second Wing under the guidance of someone who actually knows what to do with it.”
Seth’s eyes were big at the declaration, and he turned worriedly towards Gabriel on his right wordlessly. He couldn’t stay in the shadows outside the oval for long though, as Rylen stepped back through the prongs to summon him forward, and the teen scurried closer with a cold shiver down his spine. Rylen then pulled him out in front and set a hand on each of his shoulders; the look on Furion’s face could’ve sent lesser men running.
“Cadet Setharion Rydell is henceforth to be known as Sir Setharion Rydell. I grant him all the power and standing of a full Knight of the Luminary Council, and further, have accepted him as a personal protégé within the First. As Xanarken once did when he brought Gabriel into the Council, Seth will be something of an apprentice. As he grows into his role and learns what it means to lead, he will eventually be moved into the Second Wing along with the Inquisition division of the First. I look forward to seeing the full support of the Council and all of its officers to buoy him as he becomes the latest man of the Rydell family to reach such prestigious heights.”
The sound of the Captains’ applause was awkward to Gabriel’s ears; his own promotion had been bludgeoned into existence and there wasn’t any cause for celebration. Seth’s, however, seemed like the natural progress of an organization wanting to expand, and there seemed no-better choice than the tried and tested lineage of the Council’s proverbial royal family.
He couldn’t bring himself to clap along with the rest of them. No one would’ve seen it even if he had anyway. He found a good excuse to avoid it though when he heard the subtle pounding of fists against the outside of the nearby door. With a brow raised, he stepped over, and allowed the panel to open a crack, “What’s going on? We’re still meeting.” He asked, a hint belligerence on his voice.
“Sir, this is an emergency.” The bridge crewman answered hastily, “Lord Rylen needs to see this immediately.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“One of the satellites over Kitez has spotted something inexplicable. I…we don’t even know what it is. It’s massive. We think it’s a resurfaced colony ship, by the shape of it.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed with worry, and he nodded, “I’ll get them to wrap it up. Whatever it is, pull it up on the bridge’s main screens.”
“Sir!”
He closed the door again and reached for the lights, setting a finger onto the base of the slider so the brightness would come on gradually. Rylen noticed it immediately, since he was the only one other than Seth actually in that room, and he stepped out of the lime-light to figure out what was going on. Gabriel’s expression was dire though, “We have to cut things short. You have to get to the bridge.”
“What for?”
“…I think Kitez just revealed its hand.”