Fallout
Captain Morwen stood in the room the ship had transformed into something of a conference room after sensing her need for one. The gleaming silver hull plating and gold trim of the metallic table contrasted with the macabre black bleeding goo from the edges of the hull plating. The rate of bleed required her to burn it away every few hours, but it was like it infected the ship with some kind of wound. She’d need to take it home. If anyone knew how to repair such an injury, it would be the Artificer’s Guild. The thought of having to face her mother again sent a shiver up her spine that a legendary spell ship bleeding black blood never could.
The lighting in the room was a comfortable glow provided by a circular light in the center of the ceiling. It cast a warm, healing glow that soothed the body and eased the soul. Already she could see Akamori and Keimut’s bruises and cuts healing. Matroness Azil sat in a perpendicular position, placing each person in a square at an equal distance from each other. She was the first to speak.
“Captain Morwen, thank you for providing us with this space to deliberate.”
“Well, it was more agreeable than battling your people in your solar system. I came for allies, after all.”
Keimut looked like he wanted to spit in disgust but had the good sense to simply look away. Akamori reclined in his chair, largely tuned out of the conversation for now, idly sketching away. At a quick glance, it looked like a good start on some kind of crystal with many facets in a roughly equal sized diamond shape surrounded by numerous others. He’d initially protested being involved, but she wanted to lend his voice to the discussions since he technically beat Keimut.
“The first order of business is a formal end to all hostilities to my people and the Alliance as a whole.” Morwen said with a pointed look at Keimut.
The draconic humanoid waved an arm dismissively with a haughty sigh. “You won your battle. Hostilities ended with my defeat, did they not?”
Morwen nodded. “Indeed, they did.” It wasn’t necessary to rub his face in it, but she wanted him to understand how wrong he was to have supported the Sauridius on his world. How horribly it could have gone for them.
“But it’s not enough that they end now. We came to this world looking for allies. And instead you’ve given us nothing but problems and enemies.”
Azil opened her mouth to protest, but Morwen held a hand up cutting her. “Before you protest, Matroness, I’d remind you of the fact that we came to this battle alone, and it was sometime before you and your forces arrived. Token shows of support only get you token recognition.”
Azil closed her mouth and bowed her head, ceding the point. “Very well Captain. Your point is taken.”
Morwen nodded. “Good, because we need to talk about what comes next, and we can’t do that with everyone checking their backs for knives. I came here seeking an alliance with your people and I believe that’s still possible even if the extent is limited. Is that something you’d support if you were put into power Matroness?”
Azil again nodded elegantly. She appeared older than Keimut, but in a more gracefully aged way. Her light blue eyes flashed occasionally with lightning as most air wyrms did. “Indeed, When Anazi was slain, we sought to isolate ourselves from the horrors of war and the sector at large. But I believe it’s high time we reintegrated with the galactic community again. The last flight has much to offer, and gain from once again leaving home.”
The parties thus proceeded to discuss the terms of alliance and what each side’s commitment would look like. It was agreed that The Last Flight and the Federation would work together in times of need, share resources and technology, offer aid and support to each other in matters both political and economic. Both sides considered that a commitment to peacefulness was essential in order to honor their mutual desire for peace. Furthermore, it was agreed that any disputes between them could be handled by a neutral arbitrator.
The representatives of The Last Flight and The Mage Federation stood side-by-side as they put their signatures to the parchment. This document, known as the Pact of Amity, was now a formal agreement between them, and it would be kept by each party as a reminder of their commitment to one another. To commemorate this momentous occasion, special tablets were crafted from Storm Crystal, a rare material found only in The Last Flight’s home star system - a physical proof of its importance and permanence.
As Matroness Azil and Keimut left, Morwen studied the tablet that was to be Federations curiously. She watched as a small electrical storm danced wildly within the skin of the crystal like a bottled lightning elemental wildly snapping at its cage. Akamori set his drawing upon the table with a contented sigh. She admired the artwork approvingly.
“You were surprisingly quiet. More so than normal.” Morwen mused.
Akamori shrugged silently, his lips compressing with a thought. “Didn’t seem right for me to say too much. I’d already kicked them in the nuts hard enough by beating them. Didn’t strike me as a sound move to rub their noses in it too badly.”
Morwen nodded. “Yes, gentleness wasn’t one of your strong suits.”
“I can be gentle.” He protested.
“Like you were gentle with the Sauridius?”
“To be fair, they were shooting at us.”
“Or the necromancers?”
“They were hurling ghouls and phatasms at us?”
“Or my mother?”
He flinched at that. Morwen had never verbally called her fathers paramour her mother before, but she’d always been there in her life. Far more than her actual birth mother had been. She winced, realizing she’d dropped that at his feet unceramoniously.
“Sorry...” She said.
Akamori leaned forward and shook his head. His shoulder length crimson mane already growing back out again. Initially it took on other colors from magical infusions but once he’d reached a certain threshold his body reasserted itself. “No. I should be the one apologizing there.”
“I know you did everything you could. The blame ultimately lies with Ominek. He has a way of destroying families.”
Akamori agreed softly, leaving the floor to Morwen to continue speaking. So she did.
“It’s strange. To come out of this with a win. We have the legendary spell ship. We have allies. We have power. We have hope.”
“But we also have enemies at every corner. And we need to cleanse this ship. Something is...wrong with it. It’s wounded or something.” Akamori shivered at the thought.
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“True. Which is why we’re returning to Eryn. I believe it’ll bolster spirits of the people to see a tangible result of our victory. I know Ominek. Sooner or later, the hammer will fall. We have to be ready when it does. I only fear we won’t be able to do enough.”
He finally glanced up to her, a strained, sad smile. “It does kinda feel like we’ve been marching around to someone else’s drumbeat huh?”
“Yes. It rather does.”
His face softened as he glanced at the drawing of the crystal and it’s ring of smaller crystals. “I hate it. Feeling like I’m just someone’s puppet.”
“A puppet capable of incredible violence.” Morwen added with a note of jovial playfulness. It helped just enough to bring him out of his morose brooding.
“Yeah.” He added with a chuckle.
“Still. You may be right. Thus far we’ve bounced from disaster to disaster.”
“Makes ya wonder what comes next, huh?”
Morwen nodded. “Indeed. I only pray we can handle it.”
Akamori stood, stretched, and slid the drawing to her, it stopped next to the lightning crystal tablet. “A momento.”
She picked it up, brows knit curiously. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “Dunno. Something I see every now and then. I get it in dreams and visions. Figured I’d draw it, try and get it outta my head.”
Morwen admired the pencil work. His use of shading and tight erasing of lines to create highlights in the tones struck her as a creative use of his materials. She looked above the sheet of paper and studied him for a moment. He looked tired. “It looks amazing. I think you missed your calling as an artist.”
Akamori gave her a rueful smile. “I guess I missed it when the invading army murdered my world.”
Morwen sighed, sitting on the edge of the table and watching the black fluid once again try to ooze free of the walls. A festuring wound that bled endlessly. So many problems. So much pain. She was tired of the fight, and dealing with the fallout.
“There seems to be a lot of that going around. But then, that’s why you stayed isn’t it? To make sure no one else suffers the way we have?”
Akamori nodded silently, playing at the gold trim on the table. “Yeah.”
Morwen noted his sword missing. An item she’d seldom seen him parted with. She began to wonder if her lieutenant was ok when he’d finally glanced up to her with a tired look.
“Do you ever get sick of the games?”
“Games?”
“Yeah,” Akamori said. “The nonsense politics and having to please everyone instead of just going out and fighting the people who need to be stopped.”
“Ah.” Morwen said, realizing the source of his chaffing. She took a deep breath and tried to figure out how best to diplomatically respond.
“I’m not a diplomat or politician. But for me to fight for the people that need me to fight for them, I have to be at times.”
“Like when you let those clowns take all our awards and pin it on Rayshe?”
“Correct. There are many powers involved in this conflict. The longer it drags on, the more will be pulled in. A certain amount of diplomacy should be expected, but you are right. Too often we get jerked out of being where we need to be for reasons that are inadequate.”
“So what do we do about it?” Akamori asked.
She glanced down at him curiously. “I’m not sure there is anything we could do?”
He scoffed at that. “Please. We’ve got the dragons share of the hardware and power. What’s stopping us from just going where we want and fighting the fights we think should be fought?”
“Making unnecessary enemies?” Morwen ventured.
Akamori rolled his eyes. “Please. If you’re talking about the Federation, who else is out there constantly risking it all? Sometimes I feel like we’re the only one’s taking this fight seriously. Everyone else is just content to let it be a news chryon.”
Morwen didn’t respond so he continued when she finally made eye contact again. “Look, my point is this. We finally have all the things we need to get out there and really start fighting this war how it needs to be. I’m done with out of touch brass telling me where and when I take orders. Or who they come from.”
“This whole thing for me started after you got a prophecy. A vision. You bound my soul to serve in the Federation because you needed me to win. And I stuck around because I recognized the threat. But now I think we’re being held back.”
“What are you proposing Lt.?” Morwen asked.
He shrugged before rising up from his seat and stretching. He paused to study his hands, his expression flashed through several emotions as he searched for the answer within.
“I don’t know. A change. Everything has changed since Ominek burned my home to ash. Now it’s time for things to change again. What that looks like? I haven’t quite decided.”
Morwen folded her arms and canted her head at an angle, she wasn’t buying it. “Yes you have. You’re just afraid to voice it because you think I won’t agree.”
Akamori frowned and pressed his lips together firmly. Finally he turned to face her. “I think it’s time we left the Federation. We have Theferis, we have Indra. You, me. Between the two of us, we could buy out everyone’s contracts with what the Dragons paid to save face.”
Morwen had to admit the idea had merit. Run correctly, an adequately funded and well managed outfit could be vastly more effective than she’d been capable of without divine intervention.
“Perhaps you’re right Lieutenant. Perhaps it’s time we divorced ourselves of the Federation. But we should do it carefully so we don’t antagonize the leadership. We don’t want to alienate ourselves. Take the idea to your team and proceed.”
“What about you?”
Morwen frowned. Was she really ready to leave? Could she? “I’ll be right behind you.”
She knew in the back of her head though, that ultimately part of her couldn’t leave because she couldn’t stand the thought of letting the Federation die since it was her father’s last great work. If it died, she felt like he truly would be too. She watched Akamori nod and leave the conference room.
“Not on my watch,” she whispered.