Vylik felt the shuttle settle on the ground. Well, we weren’t shot out of the air, she thought. That’s a start. Vylik liked to have a contingency plan for every possible outcome during every stage of a mission. It was an expectedly time-consuming process, but it was the primary reason she and her crew had survived for as long as they had in the lawless wilderness that was space. Chairo and Lubov sat against the opposite side of the cargo hold but the two of them sat apart (with almost two meters of space between them). She stared at Lubov shrewdly, his helmet’s tinted visor conveniently shielding his face. He’s deteriorating. She’d seen it before on other ships with other crews. Sometimes, people just broke. Call it whatever you like - “Cosmic Psychosis”, “Space Madness” - Vylik had seen it too many times to accept that it was just a myth.

Bringing him to Omalia may have been a mistake, she thought. But did I have a reasonable alternative? Had I left him on the ship, I would have potentially endangered the other crew members who stayed behind. Vylik wasn’t sure anyone besides Chairo or Konstance could seriously contest Lubov’s physical abilities. She had always counted his freakish strength and agility as an asset, yet she knew full well a deteriorating mental state could easily turn that into a costly liability. At least here I can observe him closely and restrain him if needed.

She exhaled slowly. The possibility of one of her crew having a cognitive breakdown was the last thing she needed to be considering right now. Focus on the objectives, she reminded herself. Make respectful contact with the Grand Council, secure the Unfit, and then get the fuck off this planet.

Konstance’s voice inside her helmet interrupted her stream of thought.

"Ready when you are, Captain,” he said.

She stood up and Konstance, Chairo, and Lubov followed suit. Chairo removed a long Impact Hammer from a compartment above his seat and attached it to his back. While Konstance and Chairo locked compact side arms onto their hips, a high-pitched whine pierced the air. The end of the cargo hold began to open. Fog, perforated with sunlight, silently meandered its way inside the ship. As they made for the exit, a figure - flanked by two other figures - emerged from the cloud of vapor outside and stood with perfect posture at the bottom of the lowered ramp.

“Welcome to Omalia, Captain Vylik,” said the primary figure, now discernible as an Omalian male.

He smiled broadly. Every one of his teeth was plated with some various precious metal.

“My name is Festus,” he continued, “I am one of the eleven who sit on the Grand Council.” He seemed to speak with some effort. He’s adopting a dialect we’ll understand better, she thought. How thoughtful. Despite this courtesy, she found herself utterly revolted by him. Giving her Exo a short verbal command, her helmet receded behind her.

“It is an honor to be greeted by someone on the Council, Festus,” she said. “Would you like to do the exchange here or somewhere else?”

Festus laughed, just a fraction of a second too long. The acrid Omalian air now invading her nostrils made her eyes instantly tear up. With great difficulty, she fought down the urge to cough.

“You are indeed your reputation, Captain Vylik,” said Festus.

His pupils were slitted like a snake’s.

“Unfortunately, we Omalians prefer to do business at a slower pace than I’m sure you Freelancers are used to. If you would please follow me.”

After beckoning to them with his left hand, he turned and re-entered the fog, the bright purple train of his ornate robe the last thing to disappear from sight; rolling her eyes, Vylik exited the shuttle and strode forward into the fog. The sound of her crew’s footsteps behind her intermingled with the strange caws and trills that echoed across the landing site. Quickly becoming disoriented, she switched her left eye to thermal and navigated toward Festus’s red-orange body a few meters ahead of her. His attendants tensed at her proximity as she drew close, but Festus gave them a quick wave with the back of his hand and they relaxed. Curiously, all three Omalians, without any obvious technology, navigated their surroundings with ease.

“We released the Atmosphere Defense System six hours ago,” she said, “It should enter your orbit in another six hours. Everything else you asked for you’ll find in the cargo hold.”

Festus nodded once, acknowledging what she’d said.

“It will be a great relief to us on the Council when she’s no longer breathing our air,” he said.

Didn’t stop you from asking a pretty price for her, she thought. Festus made a sharp turn so unexpectedly she almost collided with him. The fog thinned. They were approaching something. A structure.

“Ever heard of the phrase ‘too much of a good thing’?” he said. “That’s what she is. Seirene.”

“I didn’t realize it was so customary here to drink human blood,” she said.

A bark of laughter erupted from him. The structure in front of them was rapidly taking shape; it was a gargantuan pyramid surrounded by four slightly less gigantic pyramids. Now that her environment was discernible again, she deactivated her thermal vision. All five of the pyramids were all plated in what appeared to be burnished gold. The sunlight reflecting against their surfaces was so bright she had to squint. Shifting her attention away from the humongous structure, she discerned the tops of many other buildings far in the distance to the left and right. We must be on a plateau that overlooks the main metropolis of Umali, she thought.

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“Drinking human blood is not at all customary on Omalia, Captain Vylik,” said Festus.

They were now within a few hundred meters of one of the four corner pyramids. Despite it being smaller than the central pyramid behind it, - with each approaching step - it grew ever more looming. A triangular walkway, extending out of it, lay directly in front of them. Its entrance resembled a snake’s head with its mouth agape. Long delicate fangs extending down from the ceiling glittered in the sunlight. The rest of the walkway was hidden behind a sealed pair of metal doors.

“The blood she carries inside of her is incredibly potent,” Festus continued. “Even a single drop can reduce a fully grown Omalian male to a delirious idiot. Regrettably, we didn’t realize how truly destructive her blood was until it had already trickled into every party held by Omalia’s most affluent and high-ranking. I consider myself lucky to have never tasted it. Her blood is a poison, Captain Vylik - a sweet, pleasurable one, but still a poison nonetheless.”

They crossed into the walkway’s entrance and a red laser shot out from above the doors and scanned Festus from head to toe. Vylik realized with mild unease that, from an artistic perspective, he was being “licked” by the snake’s tongue.

“Welcome, Council Member,” said an androgynous voice. “I see you have some company with you.”

“Members of the Rebellious Nature,” said Festus. “And, in your records, you will see that the Council gave them security clearances six months ago.”

“I do indeed see that, Council Member,” said the disembodied voice. “Welcome to Omalia, members of the Rebellious Nature.”

From somewhere deep inside the wall a sophisticated hydraulic system activated and then the doors drew apart. The hallway in front of them was lit by two fluorescent holographic panels projecting from either wall. The panels extended the entire length of the passage.

“This leads to the ‘Containment of Unfit Persons Sector’,” said Festus. “The entire structure itself is our Center of Advanced Genetic Modification and Experimentation. You will struggle to find its like elsewhere, even in the Peace Realm.”

Konstance stiffened at the mention of the Peace Realm. Vylik exchanged a brief glance with him, then turned and studied the holograms running down the passage. They depicted numerous scenes of destruction and chaos. Strange beings being worshiped. Violent riots. Mass orgies occurring in front of cities and towns burning in the background. Noticing her interest in the panels, Festus drew to her side.

“These panels remind us why we label some ‘Unfit’,” he said gravely. “We’re more than aware it is a controversial practice, but, if there is one thing our history has taught us, it is that detaining and expelling some of those we genetically alter is a necessary precaution we must take. Otherwise, we risk the total annihilation of our society.”

Vylik nodded her head slowly, confident it would damage their business relationship were she to disagree. Upon reaching the end of the hallway, Festus ushered them into a decontamination chamber.

“It’s very important we keep all internal environments within the CUPS sterile,” he said.

Chairo had to stoop beneath the ceiling of the chamber. Vylik smiled at the mech’s awkward stance; it was rare that he looked anything but threatening. Natalya had designed Chairo’s headpiece in resemblance to helmets worn by ancient Earthly warriors called ‘knights’. Its two thin eye slits provided the illusion that there was a head inside it peering out, but - actually - Chairo could receive visual data from all over his body. Sometimes, however, it did feel like he was staring at Vylik with eyes hidden behind those slits. She often wondered if he was more conscious than she realized.

After the door behind them had closed and secured itself, a light red gas descended from the ceiling and swirled around them.

“No need to hold your breath,” said Festus. “It’s entirely harmless.”

The gas smelled faintly sweet, like burnt cherries. Vylik felt the back of Konstance’s hand brush up against hers (she assumed unintentionally). She thought back to that night two days ago, how nice it had felt to press herself against him. Focus on the mission, she instructed herself. She forcefully willed her attention back to the present. You can think about fucking Konstance later.

“Contaminants exterminated,” said the same voice which had greeted them at the walkway’s entrance.

The opposite door opened and Vylik and the rest of her crew (along with Festus and his attendants) emerged into a much wider and taller space. They were now in the first section of the lesser pyramid. Several Omalians walked hurriedly to and fro. The room’s walls were made of glossy, amber-colored crystal. Festus gave a terse nod to his attendants, and they bowed and disappeared down a corridor to the right.

“Right this way,” he said, gesturing that they stay close to him.

They followed behind him as he walked diagonally across the space. A warm yellow light fell on them from above like honey. The other Omalians surrounding them deliberately altered their paths to avoid intersecting with Festus’s, but Vylik wasn’t sure whether this was out of respect or fear. As they approached the far end of the room, Festus stopped and spoke with two sentries in a different language, one Vylik had never heard before. Beside the sentries, there was an imposing door the color of onyx set inside the wall.

“Vi mead haxus due hu rextricket devuls,” continued Festus, in the strange language.

The sentries bowed, moved to the door, and input a series of numerals into its holographic interface. Then, they turned to Festus and nodded. With an almost theatrical performance, Festus strode to the door and ceremoniously placed his left hand on the scanning pad adjacent to the interface. There was a loud buzzing noise and then a series of gas expulsions. The first section of the door rose into the ceiling, the second slid down into the floor, the third and fourth to the right and left.

As Festus headed inward, his long robe swished against the floor behind him. Reluctantly, Vylik followed him through the new entrance. She reactivated her helmet to hold a short conversation with Chairo over a private channel.

“In the very unlikely event that we are being led into a trap,” she said, “you do have enough firepower to blast through this door, right.”

“Easily, Captain Vylik,” replied Chairo.

“Exactly what I wanted to hear, Chairo. Thank you.”

Her helmet once again receded behind her. With everyone now through, the door closed in the same manner it had opened. There was a loud thud as its final segment settled into place. Bright light fell onto the floor in perfect circles down the passage before them. At its other end, it opened into a room with no floor, a narrow walkway and a square platform.

“Seirene is at the very bottom of the facility,” said Festus. “Unfortunately this means the descent will be quite lengthy.”