--- Sirius System (8.6 Light Years from Earth) ---
I looked out the window of my room as I sat, trying to relax. Staring out into the never ending expanse of space often helped in managing my stress.
From my window, I could see distant stars and planets as they shined like glitter on a black canvas. Every now and then I would also catch a ship darting past us, like a shooting star. The most miraculous of all the sights had to be the Galactic General Council Station. It was nearly the size of Pluto and shined like the lights on the Las Vegas Strip. Something about looking at all these massive, wonderful things made me feel like the problems I was dealing with were nothing. I wish I could take this feeling with me everywhere.
I looked closer at the Council Station. As beautiful as it was, I noticed some alarming things. First, the port reserved for the World Government of Earth was empty, and the lack of lights indicated it had not been used for some time. Second, the port used by the Empire of Form–or the Mangle Empire, as they are lovingly referred to on earth–was seeing some considerable traffic. No doubt all their royals, diplomats, and lawyers were doing everything they could to put out the fires of their recent actions. I sighed. There go my good vibes.
A flash of light hit me, as my window switched to screen mode.
“Sir, we are about to dock. We need you at the bridge.”
I leaned my old, wrinkled head deeper into the headrest of my Yallono chair, making sure to groan loud enough for my second to hear me. The Form Empire were vicious dictators and conquerors, but, man, their products were always top notch. This chair was made of white Ugon fleece, which felt like a pillow made of clouds wrapped in velvet; the gentle magnetic pulse that kept the chair airborne was quieter than a church on a weekday; and don’t even get me started on the VR Kellethi massages this thing could do. You don’t know what luxury is until you’ve had 3 Kellethis with 12 hands rub you down. I just wanted to stay right here and get my massage in peace.
I made another loud groan.
“Sir, it is preferable for you to look like you want to be here. The Council members will need to be swayed, and when you are angry, you are–how shall I put this?–less than charismatic.” The voice of my second was like the grating of sandpaper. Jules was a no-nonsense kind of guy. He oozed it from every fiber of his being. He always wore his uniform to the exact measurements within the Captain’s handbook, and he made sure every piece of clothing he wore was pressed to perfection.
“Don’t get your panties all tied up, Jules. I’ll be up there with the smile the council wants.” I barked.
“Sir, if I may be so bold. My sister is still on earth and….”
I waved my hand and sighed. “I get it Jules.” I sat up and adjusted the collar of my green and gold General's jacket and put on my Grand General’s cap. “I will do everything that I can to rectify what has happened. Trust me.”
I did my best to set Jules at ease, but he was too smart for that. The situation we found ourselves in would take a miracle to overcome.
“And what I’m saying is that the Oak Wolves Defense Committee has no legal right to interfere in this contracted conflict between the World Government of Earth and the Form Empire. If anything, this should be treated as an act of aggression on the part of the Oak Wolves.”
The absolute snake. Sitting across from me at the Table of Justice was the best lawyer in the galaxy: Laten Orion. He was a Vanu from the planet Penetsi. They were a four-legged race, akin to an elephant, that used a harp-like contraption in front of their tentacled mouths to speak. This gave them an advantage when it came to things relating to speech. Can’t really compete with someone who can sound like ecstasy to the ears.
My mind whirled thinking how much the Form Empire must have paid to have this golden weasel to represent them.
I looked around the room. The whole place was made of obsidian, detailed with stardust, to give off the impression we were standing in the middle of space. The only things not following this cosmic theme in the room were the Table of Justice and the Perch of the Glories.
The Table of Justice was made of benoite, a rare material that was similar to marble, the only difference being benoite had blue cracks that looked like sapphire rivers running across the table. Just a small piece of this thing could financially set up a planet for several generations.
The Perch of the Glories stood in a loft above the table. It was fashioned in a way that made it look like the painted depictions of Olympus, the Mountain of the Gods, complete with marble pillars and gold-leaf lining all throughout.
I looked back at the lawyer. “‘Contracted’" is a strong word, Laten, and you know it. It has been brought to the attention of the Council that it was not a member of the World Government of Earth who signed that agreement of battle,” I argued.
“Yes, yes, as you’ve said, Ma’he. The contract was not signed by a member of the WGE, but it was signed by the human leader of Mars. And, if we look at the General Galactic Council paperwork regarding the inclusion of the WGE, who is considered to be a proper and legal leader of the human race?”
I clenched my fists.
“That is right. As it is written, ‘The ownership of all rights, domains, property, lives, and all other such things in regards to the human race will be managed by the current and future members of the WGE and Martian Parliament.’ I rest my case, your Glories.”
The room rustled with noise as Laten ended his spiel. Around us, holographic court attendees whispered to one another, put their hands over their mouths as if in shock, and spoke to others that seemed to be in the same room as themselves.
I raised my hand to signal a rebuttal. The noise quieted as a figure from the Glories’ perch spoke. It has been a long time since I’ve heard Hermes' voice.
“The Glories recognize Grand General Ma’he of the Oak Wolves.” I don’t know what software they used to make the current Hermes sound like that, but it was good. Like silk from the mouth.
The position of Hermes has always been a hotly debated issue. Do the Glories need someone to speak for them, or were old traditions just sticking around without question? Don’t get me started on how much money it cost the galaxy to even have a Hermes. The answer was still up for debate, and, for now, the position of Hermes still seemed relevant, as the Glories used one at this convention.
I took a deep breath. “My opponent rests his case too soon, your Glories. If I may present new evidence for the council, I guarantee it will shed light on the situation.”
The members of the council, who were draped in the Cloak of Anonymity, which obscured their races and faces, came together in a huddle. Their conversation was muted, as to keep it secret from the rest in attendance.
I rested my elbows on the table and brought my hands together, offering a small prayer.
A few tense minutes passed. I could tell the audience, in their silence, were just as anxious as I was. The only one in the room who seemed to be doing fine was Laten, who sipped some water from a cup, using a specialized Vanu straw. That guy could eat my butt.
Hermes approached the edge of the perch. “The Glories have come together in a unanimous decision. They will accept the new evidence by Grand General Ma’he.”
The crowd gasped and a holographic Form diplomat stood up in outrage.
I raised my fist towards the perch in the proper sign of thanks, my mind overflowing with relief. I looked over at Laten, who didn’t seem bothered at all.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Hermes continued, “But the same treatment must be offered to the Form Empire. As such, we will allow the Form Empire a month's time to build up new evidence for their own case. This is the decision of the Glories.”
Against my better judgement, I stood up. “Your Glories, please! You can’t do this. Who knows what will happen in a month's time! My people will…”
Hermes raised his arm and the whole room quaked. “Your people will be destroyed by the very hand of the council if you speak again against the quoted direct decision of the Glories!”
I quickly sat down. All the blood in my body rushing to my face. My ears caught the faint sound of a laugh from Laten. I wanted to kill that guy so badly, but more than him, I wanted to go at it with the current Hermes. Something about the way he told me to be quiet didn’t sit well with me–like he was talking to a dog, or lesser species.
One of the figures of the Council seemed to notice me staring intently at Hermes. It turned to speak to the other Glories. Another figure stepped forward: the head of the Glories, only recognized by the giant yellow gem in its chest.
“The situation between the WGE and Form Empire is a tense one. We acknowledge that Earth, being a fledgling in galaxy travel, in its totality would crumble, if in a true war against the Form Empire, and thus have provided Earth with the alternative of System Conflict. It is to be noted, and recorded in the archives, that this was, in itself, a mercy of the Council.
“Ma’he, you have come here and asked again for mercy, and, although not in the manner you sought, have received it. The anger of Hermes is justified. You will not speak again against the whims of the Glories.”
I turned my stare to the ground, humiliated.
“But it does not escape the purview of the council that the Form Empire began System Combat ten years before the scheduled time.”
My head shot back up in surprise.
Laten raised a tentacle to offer explanation.
“Put your hand down, Laten. We know the circumstances your case on that separate subject rests on. The reason we bring this up at all is to announce that the Glories will be giving the Earthlings ‘Right of Tutorial,’ and thus will be opening channels for guides to assist them.
“This is the final word from the Glories on the matter, until a month’s time. Dismissed.”
The room was absolutely quiet. No sound, no movement, no nothing. No one dared speak, or even breathe, as the head Glory walked back to his chair; however, as soon as he sat down and the perch of the Glories vanished, the whole room ignited with pandemonium.
The holographic diplomats and lawyers from the Form Empire began shouting at the holographic members of the Oak Wolves Defense Committee. The neutral bystanders were calling out to people outside of the holographic field yelling things like, “Get our guides quickly! This is a gold mine!” or, “Prepare interception of all guide vessels! There will be blood!”
I saw as Laten began to make his way towards me. He walked slowly, like all Vanu, and looked, every once in a while, like he was going to fall over.
I tried to get up and leave before he could get to me, but, as slow as he was, the Vanu had some freakishly long tentacles. I felt as it began tapping on my shoulder.
Fuuuuuuuuu.. I thought to myself.
“Why are you leaving so quickly, Ma’he? Can’t catch up with an old friend?”
I turned to look at the towering, elephant idiot.
“Don’t talk to me, Laten. You took the blood money the Valkyries and Form Empire offered you, and left the Oak Wolves in the dirt.” My words came out like a violent chainsaw.
“Whoa ho there, my Grand Generalness. I vaguely remember offering to be your lawyer in this suit, remember?”
If this weren’t the Room of Justice itself, I would have grabbed him and suplexed that smile off his gray ugly face.
“That wasn’t a real offer and you know it. We couldn’t just give you half of Earth!”
“Well, that's a pity. I mostly just wanted Ohio, God knows the place needs a good tentacled leader.”
I started to walk away. This conversation was going to get me nothing but angry.
“If you still want me to switch sides, I’m available. But the price is 99% of the world, instead of the original 50%!” Laten said, laughing, as I walked out of the room.
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--- Back on Earth ---
“Lahi, I most assuredly hate to tell you this, but, as a woman, you are too damn heavy!” I spoke with all the discomfort that comes from carrying a body over my shoulders in the heat of a tropic jungle.
Besides the complete change in the environment, besides the immense dangers that surround us, and besides losing another brother, the most jarring thing in all the madness was the female transformation of Lahi, and his/her/its–I dont know!--Lahi’s now ghost form.
“Don't yell at me like that, Kyle. I didn’t want to be like this!” She/he/Lahi said, crying, voice sounding ethereal, distant, and angelic.
In all honesty, it was too angelic. Like the call of a heavenly mother to her divine children. If I didn’t know from whom the voice originated, I would likely be wooed by its siren muse.
I looked over at the floating bluish angelic form my brother/sister/Lahi now sported. Along with the flowing robes that followed angelic iconography throughout most christian art work, she was also graced with a beautiful tiara that complemented her wispy blue curls, elven looking tattoos that ran up her legs and arms, and deep sapphire eyes that seemed to pull those who stare at them into the void.
“Apologies, Lahi. I don’t mean to upset you. If it weren’t for your current condition, then everyone at the truck stop would have perished.”
Memories of that moment filled my mind. Me fighting off a large group of starving manglets, Steven running off to, likely, get killed, and the screams of people as the Mangle ship, in all its gooey gross glory, rode in.
That was when Lahi’s now-angelic form awoke from within her/his body. At first, it didn’t seem to have a will of its own, or even to recognize who I was, as it floated around. It only began to act when it saw Steven being eaten alive. The power that came from it was immense. It screamed a banshee’s scream and summoned an army of angelic ghosts who swooped down and carried everyone a great distance from the truck stop.
If it weren't for the Forced Usage of Unauthorized Powers debuff I'd likely be getting carried by Lahi instead of carrying Lahi's body.
I again looked at my angelic Zer. “On a side note, what pronouns would you like me to use for you? Odd to say, considering I’ve called you brother my whole life, but I figured I’d ask since…you know.”
Lahi floated around my head, examining her/his new body. “Well, I’ve always looked like a girl, from all the Valkyrie serums Mom would have me take. And, if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always felt more comfortable with being treated as a girl too. So, in reality, this might have just moved the natural flow of my life along. You can just assume girlish pronouns for now, and I’ll see how I feel. Although, I didn’t think I would end up with such huge hips. Blessings from alien technology, I guess!”
I rolled my eyes at the alien-technology comment, although the rest of what she had said revealed old memories.
Lahi wasn’t always girlish, just as Steven didn’t always have attachment issues, and Joshua didn't always stay quiet. Each of their insecurities came from the War Maiden Initiative that my mother was a part of.
It was a plan that attempted to create perfect bodies for the female-only cursed attributes that took on the names of the Valkyries. The specific cursed attribute used on those three was named Sigrun. The attribute multiplied the user’s every aspect by three, and let them raise, and control the dead. It was to be the secret weapon of the humans in an attempt to thwart the Form Empire’s advances into human controlled space. At least, that was its original purpose.
A long time before my family and I were part of the initiative, the whole thing was taken over by the original Hilder. When the initiative came to us, it was already a neutral military force for hire. I had heard whispers of their desires to take over Martian Parliament, but, at that time, I was more preoccupied with maintaining the sanity of my abused siblings than politics.
A detail I hate noting of the involvement of my mother is that she truly believed the War Maiden Initiative would bring peace. I hate thinking about it because it brings me pain to justify the torment my brothers went through.
I still remember days when Lahi would come home from the lab and cry, telling me he wasn't sure who he was anymore, or the decreasing number of words Joshua would use to describe the isolation chambers he was forced into for weeks. The worst of them all was Steven. Poor boy would never leave our mother’s side, doing everything he could to stay with her. The efforts he would put into training, and the experiments he allowed without a word, just so Mother would never leave him. When he was tossed aside by Mother, after she realized he wasn’t compatible with Sigrun, he tried several times to kill himself. It was I, for the most part, who kept him from going through with it; but some days he seemed to talk to himself, and that would calm him. In totality, I can say that the Maiden Initiative can eat my butt.
“Fine, then I shall call you ‘she/her’ and other queenly pronouns, like ‘girlfriend’ and ‘slaaay’ and whatever other nonsense I can come up with to annoy you.”
Angelic Lahi smiled as she floated next to me. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, you know-it-all.”
We, or, more correctly, I, continued the trek. It was several minutes before either of us spoke.
“Where are we going anyway, Kyle? You look like you're walking with purpose.”
I squinted my eyes, hoping we were getting closer to what I assumed would be in front of us. “Well, I’m not necessarily walking knowing where I’m going. It is more that I hope I will reach a place that I think is coming.”
“And what place would that be?”
I continued to strain my eyes, attempting to see it in the distance. Finally, I caught a glimpse. The sign, although not lit, was still as iconic as I remember. It read: ‘Welcome to Las Vegas’.
I smiled. “Looks like those sparse road signs I saw were correct. Let's hurry on, girlfriend. I believe there is much we can do here.”