Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva Baol of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized Aurigan time]: 23rd Day of the Month of Braying, Year 1 After Auriga

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For three days I sat awake, communing with the ancient Baol as medics watched over me. Despite their worries they found nothing wrong with me, nor did I ever feel tired throughout the long vigil. When not prodded at by doctors and nurses, I spent my moments conversing with the Virtual that seared its code onto my body.

My people once believed the stars to be gods, and they had no idea how comically close to the truth they'd been. The Endless had built an empire upon deicide, all for the sake of greed and power, all for Dust. Auriga was not the first of the gods to die, she was just the latest, a lone refugee hiding on a far off world, but even there they'd found her.

The Endless had not created the Dust, no, its origin was far more sinister. They'd killed their gods, the true gods of this galaxy, and harvested their bodies, mined their corpses for their divine essence. Each mote of Dust was a cell, a tiny piece of a once great being, beings like Auriga.

The Allayi and the Drakken did not handle this new revelation gracefully. The Drakken, once believing the Endless to be divine, were tormented to learn that the Endless had killed the true gods of our cosmos. While the Allayi, learning of the true extent of the Endless's sins, turned their anger towards Baol, and had to be restrained by the Drakken from doing something foolish.

It was funny, months ago such a threat to my person would've been terrifying, but with Baol by my side I felt confident, bold. The ancient being's attitude was rubbing off on me, and the more I learned of the ancient Venlil people, the more I understood what had been taken from us.

But for now, the truth had to be drip fed to the common people, lest they panicked from uncertainty and doubt. In time, we would uncover more evidence, but as it stood, the ship was enough to start the reclamation of our identity.

With Andras by my side, I strode into the governance hall with my head held high, holding the nekali axe like a walking cane. Despite not being fully used to my new gait, I did not let it deter me, and took every step with authority and poise.

I paid no mind to all the gawking from my fellow venlil as I stepped onto the stage, and simply gave salutatory signs with my tail to the mass of reporters, as if nothing exceptional was going on.

Up on the stage, the technicians were just as wide eyed as the people in the audience, but I continued to act as natural as before, to ease their confusions.

"G-Governor Tarva?" A camerawoman asked, unsure of herself, and a I gave her a curt nod and a tail signal to ease her doubts.

"Yes, that's correct. Are the cameras ready? We have a lot more news about the Kolshian manipulations."

It then all seemed to click together in her head, and she realized why I now looked different. She realized I was walking proof that the kolshians had made genetic edits to the venlil people, even if she didn't yet know how it'd happened.

After my emergency broadcast a little over three weeks prior, revealing Cilany's recordings to the world, many talking heads were speculating on if our culture and genes had been edited, and it was finally time to put those speculations to rest, with a resounding yes.

"I- Of course. Everything's ready, the cameras are on the stage."

I signed in thanks to her and then motioned for Andras to follow me, the mezari futzing with his helmet, trying to get it to sit right around his large mane.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He responded in protest, adjusting the strapped as he walked up to me.

We then got in front of the cameras, ready to present the mezari's findings, as well as my new body, to the world.

"You ready to face the music, Governor?" Baol asked, and I answered with an affirmative thought. It was getting easier to communicate with each other, and often we didn't even need words to convey emotions.

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"Well, good luck."

I then cleared my throat, walking up to the podium and in front of the cameras, before beginning.

“Greetings, citizens of the Venlil Republic. I'm sure you have many questions, especially after the last emergency broadcast. Sadly, the answer to most of those questions is yes. The kolshians and the farsul did indeed erase our culture and alter our genes, and we finally have hard, physical proof of their meddling.

You might be wondering what happened to my appearance, well, let me tell you a story. Even before we received word from Aafa, the aurigans uncovered something that hinted at ancient history being rewritten. Off the coast of the arctic ocean, by the edge of the dark lands, one of their vessels scooped up an artifact, an ancient venlil vessel made of wood, designed for navigating the inlets and fjords of the dusky shores."

Andras provided holographic views of the ship, acting as a visual aid to my commentaries, which was also being projected on one of the screens in the back, giving everyone a good view of the vessel. The audience was quickly thrown into conspiratorial chatter, especially the reporters, who were busy recording and taking notes on every word I said.

"Inside we found hundreds of artifacts, mostly coins, from a bronze age venlil culture of sailors. Every coin had the face of a ruler stamped upon it, and every face had visible nostrils. Not only that, but every object within the vessel, including the vessel itself, was suffused with Dust. Yes, Dust, the same Dust that the aurigans' technology relied on, and which suffused their homeworld. This could only mean one thing, and the conclusion was immediately obvious to me. The venlil people once used Dust just as the Aurigans did, despite its absence from our modern world."

The crowd was now truly in an uproar, gasps and shouts filling the air. I could tell most were having a hard time believing that, but I was sure that in time we'd have find even more evidence of the Federation's lies.

"But that is still, not all." I continued, trying to get the crowd to focus. "Within the vessel we found a golden statuette of a venlil, also infused with Dust, just like the rest of the objects. And yet, that is not all. As you can see on the statuette, these ancient venlil did not have inwards bending knees, but rather forwards facing knees, another sign of genetic edits committed against our people."

Andras manipulated the hologram to display the statuette, zooming in on its features as I explained it. The crowd were busy taking pictures of the display, even though I'd planned to release both the scan data and catalogue photographs to the public later that day.

"I now ask, nay, beg, that you stay with me, as I explain what happened next. As my eyes fell upon one of the finds, it began reacting to my presence, reading my history and engraving it upon its surface. This particular find was a chest, seemingly made of simple wood, yet enchanted with Dust. Inside was an axe, a simple, bronze tool, equally infused with the miraculous substance. This axe."

As I talked, Andras revealed photos of the Warchest of Ages, events of my life visibly engraved in its surface, despite its ancient, waterlogged appearance. I then held the axe up above my head, letting the public gaze upon its golden glow, motes of Dust swirling around it. I then tapped the butt of the haft against the stage as I brought the weapon back down, sending out a small puff of Dust in all directions, which swirled back around towards the axe head.

"As I gazed upon this axe, this simple, yet powerful object, an unknown compulsion made me pick it up, and before I knew what had happened, a being of Dust, one of the Virtual Endless, had bonded itself to me in a symbiotic union. This ancient Virtual was once bonded to my ancestors, and my DNA awoke it from its slumber. As I picked up the axe, the Dust recognized my ancestry, and in doing so, I'd unwittingly activated a thousand year old bonding ceremony, which embedded the Virtual's Dust directly into my skin.

His name is Baol, and he has been on Venlil prime for a long time, since before our ancestors could shape metal. He has witness thousands of years of venlil history unfold, and has been teaching me much about our past. In the coming weeks I will reveal more about our ancestors, but know this: when Baol saw the state of my body, he offered to fix it for me, reshape the flesh and bone into a true venlil form. Without hesitation I accepted, and though the process was painful, I am happy with the results. Though I have to say, the mezari really need to shower more, whew."

My little joke to ease the audience's worries seemed to land well, as they seemed to understand the implication behind my saying that the predators needed to shower more, with a low chuckle rolling through the crowd.

"Before I leave you though, there is but one more thing I wish to share. Before the Federation came, before they violated our bodies and erased our cultures, before they made us into the weakest of prey, we were a species of hardy survivors. We faced the bitter cold of the dusk wastes, the blistering heat of the dawn deserts, the broiling waves of the world ocean, and the twilit valleys of the untamed wilds without fear.

We did these things because we were strong, and because we were brave. Our ancestors faced challenge and danger at every turn, and they did so without fear, even in the face of predators. In the ancient tongue our world was known as The World of Death, for a venlil's life was hard, yet they faced these hardships head on, without cowardice, fighting with tooth and claw for their survival.

And so I leave you with a question. Will you choose to be brave as they were, or will you choose to be weak as the kolshians wanted?"

And with that, I left the podium, a swarm of reporters no doubt ready to interview me, as the crowd erupted into a chorus of discussions and debates.

"Well, I think you nailed it."