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Wrath of the Puppet Master
Act 1: Chap 3- The Expedition

Act 1: Chap 3- The Expedition

Soft knocking on the door of the dark room, the shades pulled over the window and the interior smothered in near pitch darkness. There was a groan, and a metallic clang as someone threw something against the door. The knocking sounded again; this time much louder. Another clang, as someone threw something even heavier against the door. There was a pause, then a loud crash, as the door shook. Someone was presumably kicking it with their booted foot.

“For the Truth’s sake, I’m up! Fuck off!” a woman’s voice shrieked in the darkness.

“Zaga mooch eben, mora bee bee!” a muffled voice roared through the door.

“I fucking know what time it is! Go fuck off someplace else!” the woman’s voice shouted.

Loud grumbling could be heard from outside the dark room. There was a metallic click, as the lamp on the night stand next to the bed turned on. The woman who had ignited the lamp wasn’t human, but Laydren in her true form. Her grey skin nearly glowed, her porcelain eyes sparkling as her long locks of hair wound down her exposed chest. She sighed, pushing her hair out of her face, studying the people lying in her bed. A naked man and woman, both wearing leather collars and smushed make up.

She ignited her energy, her human form returning with a tingle. Her pale human skin outlined by thin black make up, her black and blue died hair cut in a pixie cut. She yawned, and nudged the humans awake.

“Wakey, wakey pets. We have a galaxy to fuck,” the Laydren in human form grinned.

The female who had awoken the sleeping humans smiled and flung herself out of bed naked, stretching. She walked across the empty can littered, burn stained carpet, and flung the curtains open. Outside the window, the massive docks and shipyards of Zion sprawled out in front of her window. She counted each ship, noting which ones were hers, and which ones might be hers if they were fancy enough. She yawned again. Motion behind her caught her attention, and she turned to see the human girl grinning, the male still asleep.

“Wake him up, we have shit to do,” the naked woman by the window scoffed.

“But what if I want you all to myself,” the woman in the bed grinned.

“Wake him up, now,” the woman by the window growled, her glowing blue eyes squinted.

The girl in bed rolled her eyes and smacked the sleeping man awake. The man grunted and rolled over. The woman by the window scoffed, walking over to the closet. She picked out her favorite outfit, combat jeans, leather jacket, a sports bra underneath, two pistols, a machete, and her trusty boot grenade. Never left home without it. She then put on a black lace choker and wrapped a black and white bandanna around her head.

Fully dressed, she turned to see the girl in bed smoking, the man still asleep. The fully clothed woman rolled her eyes and walked over to the door. She flipped the latch, and the door swung open furiously. Nearly a dozen four-foot-tall creatures charged inside. Their voices made a cacophony of base filled protests. Each creature looked like some sort of leather skinned gargoyle on its hind legs, with human hands, and feet. Atop their heads was a spiky mane that extended a foot from their skull in all directions. Each creature was different than the other in terms of skin, and eye color. But each was a ferocious specimen of brutality, adorned in necklaces of bone and trophies cut off of living enemies.

The woman held up her hands, trying to make them back off as they shouted and shrieked, stomping up and down.

“You did tell them you’d be up by sun rise,” a male voice laughed.

The angry woman turned her head and saw a male Laydren in human form with dark hair, and glowing grey eyes leaning on her door frame. Like her, he had chosen Earth Asian human features, with black hair, but green hair dye instead of blue.

“Not my fault there’s no fucking sun here! Who told these fuckers what time we were supposed to be up?!” the woman barked.

“Now is that any way to talk to your crew, Sterin?” the man arched an eyebrow.

Sterin, the infamous pirate captain, and terror of several galaxies pointed her finger at him.

“Watch it, bud. I’m not above making you sleep with the Spree!” Sterin growled.

“So scared. And you did, genius. ‘Course you don’t remember. Have a good trip to the undercity last night?” the man laughed.

“It was the best!” the collared naked woman on the bed laughed.

“You took the pets on a walk I see,” the man arched an eyebrow.

“They needed to get out, been too cooped up on this tub,” Sterin shrugged.

“I’ll never understand your romance dynamics,” the man shook his head.

“They’re mine, that’s it,” Sterin chortled.

“Indeed we are,” the man in bed purred.

“Oh now he’s awake!” Captain Sterin roared.

The two humans in bed giggled, retreating beneath the sheets.

“Put some clothes on you sluts! Aine, where’s Miken?” Sterin asked.

“On the dock right now, greeting the Queen’s party, like you were supposed to,” Aine laughed, pushing himself off the door frame.

“Fuck! Let’s go!” Sterin roared, sprinting out of the room, down the long hall.

As she ran, Aine in toe, the Spree sprinted alongside jabbering and roaring, clanging the pipes and walls with their weapons. Their eyes popped, nearly frothing at the mouth at the sudden charge. Sterin and Aine reached the elevator first and had to physically push back the Spree so the doors would close.

“Take the ladders! Too many, no, no, look at me you mangy fucks! Toooooo many!” Sterin roared, leaning forward.

The Spree all looked at each other, then roared, sprinting away towards the ladders, the human and Laydren crew members jumping out of the way of the leathery dwarf horde. The elevator doors closed, and Sterin sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose.

“Remind me again why we hire Spree as our crew?” Aine laughed.

“Because how many other fucks will literally eat your enemies, or receive battle as payment?” Sterin barked.

“See, that’s where I think you’re wrong, I’ve seen plenty of the little mange’s running off with precious metals,” Aine sighed.

“Was there a fire nearby, a metal pot and some kind of funnel with a hog-tied prisoner nearby?”

“Yeah, why? Oh. Oh, yeah okay. Great Truth, glad they’re on our side,” Aine shook his head.

As the elevator vibrated and thrummed with energy, Sterin sighed. The Spree where savage fighters and came off as cavemen. But she knew different, she was one of the few of her people, and one of the select few in the universe, that knew the secrets of Spree. That’s why a large majority of her crew consisted of the jabbering monsters.

The elevator shuttered as it came to a halt, arriving at its destination. The doors opened, and Sterin and her triplet brother walked outward, on to the main deck of her flag ship. The Exelon was a long and proud vessel, with two decks of turrets, boarding vessels, rockets, and all kinds of artillery. The bottom most hull had been hollowed out to fit cargo, along with several additions to the brig to fit more hostages, and rooms for interrogation.

As Sterin and Aine walked down the long cargo bay, the crew acknowledged them, forklifts and cargo hover palettes zipping by. Large throngs of Spree huddled together, cooking meat on stoves, training with weapons, or wrestling. The massive cargo bay was filled with the overlapping layers of machine, crew, and engine noises.

Calm filled Sterin as she stalked forward, the familiar waves of overwhelming sound comforting her. She loved being in the bowels of ships, the freedom life out among the stars brought. Not to mention seeing all of this activity, and her crew, it brought her joy. She had never had children in nearly a thousand years of life. In an odd and comforting way, her crews and soldiers had been her children as they followed her into the hell fires of war and carnage.

She pushed these soft emotions from her mind and steeled herself as they approached the off ramp. Far below them, she could see her other brother, the triplet Miken talking to a diverse crowd of life forms. Several of the Exelon human crew members stood beside him, backs to Sterin and Aine. Clearly, and wisely, Miken had told the Spree to stay deep within the ship. Hence, their extra rowdiness, and grumblings as they gnawed and chomped on barely cooked meat. Her boys needed a good fight, and soon. Hopefully, whatever mission the Queen had for them would bring some action.

Sterin and Aine strolled down the ramp and approached the crowd. As they got closer, Sterin judged them all. Several humans in suits, a security detachment of Earth Marines, an odd fellow with dark hair and glasses, some Fungoid lifeforms, and several Sema. Standing on the side of them all, was an Asian man in full tactical gear. Sterin recognized him: Chang Mai, the chief intelligence operative of the Vagabonds, and one of the founding reformers of Zions counterintelligence task force.

Chang Mai kept glancing at the Fungoid, and who could blame him. Fungoid lifeforms, essentially sentient talking mushrooms, were numerous in the universe but judging by these particular Fungoid by the ramp, with their large yellow patches, they were Umar. The great exploration clans that had united large majorities of the sentient fungi life form civilizations who had achieved space flight in the universe.

Besides the Umar where some Sema. Tiny, skinny life forms, with their bone white skin, four large oval eyes, four skinny arms that extended to their knees, and two legs that split at the shins to form a total of four feet that had extra-long and curled toes. Very akin to apes from Earth, the mammalian life forms called Sema were a cunning and highly advanced civilization that had nearly evolved to Ethereal status before Zion had made contact with their home world.

Sterin outreached her arms widely, laughing.

“Hello friends! Tell me, where is our gorgeous Queen?” Sterin called.

The humans in suits scowled.

“Attending the royal ball, as if you should know,” one of the men scoffed.

Sterin tilted her head, resting her elbow on Miken’s shoulder.

“Ah, yes. Such a pity I wasn’t invited,” Sterin grinned.

“We extend our warmest congratulations to the Queen for her successful endeavors within the pollical agora, and wish her a fruitful and peaceful reign,” Miken smiled warmly.

“How much are you fuckers paying us?” Aine scowled.

“The contract has already been sealed,” Miken spat out of the corner of his mouth.

“Wish someone would have told me that,” Aine whispered back.

“A reminder, for us all then. So we’re all on the same page?” Sterin laughed, reaching both arms out and gripping her brothers’ outer shoulder’s with a vice grip as she pulled them in closely to her.

“Embarrass me in front of these Limora and I will have you cleaning the Spree shitters for a month,” Sterin whispered to her brothers.

“Why are we kneeling to these barbarian whims?” Aine asked in his native language.

“Do not speak in our ancestors’ tongue in front of these degenerates,” Miken spat back in Laydra.

The human man with brown hair, and silver spectacles cleared his throat nervously. He was a small, and timid soul in a wool jacket, wearing patched and frayed dress pants a size or two too big for him.

“Barbarian whims is not how we here. We want far far journey to distant orange,” the man sputtered in broken Laydra.

Sterin, Aine, and Miken all looked at each other, then roared with laughter. The man blushed as he readjusted his glasses, looking at the ground.

“Humans rarely learn our language, but let’s save it for those who were born with it,” Miken chuckled.

“You’re lucky you’re under their protection, by our people’s law your tongue should be removed for butchering our sacred words,” Aine chuckled darkly.

“What’s your name, human?” Sterin arched an eyebrow.

“M-Malcom, Doctor Malcom, Luna University, Dean of extraterrestrial studies,” the timid man blurted.

“Right. So the stuttering idiot is obviously coming with us. Who else?” Sterin laughed.

“You are charged by her Majesty Queen Zyhara to Escort Professor Malcom and his colleagues to an undisclosed location. Half of your payment is here today, the rest when Professor Malcom returns, unharmed and sane,” one of the Earth Marines in grey tactical armor growled.

“Ooooooh. This is your first flight outside the Milky Way for this dimension, isn’t it? How adorable! Well, we are honored to bring them along,” Sterin grinned.

“We’re coming too,” the Earth Marine said.

“What?”

“The United Sol Parliament has assigned this squad to be Professor Malcom’s personal bodyguard,” the man in the suite said.

“Why put them on our ship then? Oh right, I forgot your barbarian tubs can’t go beyond your little asteroid belts,” Aine snarled.

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“I am also attending this venture. Zyhara wants a Vagabond on this mission,” Chang Mai said softly.

Sterin studied him, noticing everyone else had ignored him. It was almost as if he had only intended for her to notice what he said. She nodded, and he shrunk away from the group, observing from the outside.

“Please, everyone!” one of the Sema squeaked, it’s high pitch voice echoing.

“There is no need for hostility. This is a venture of science, the first human expedition beyond their solar system, hand in hand with the Sema and Umar. Never before has this dimension ever ventured so far, and on such a grand scale,” the Sema croaked.

“Indeed. Fitting is it not, that such a grand Human mission of discovery set out upon a proud Laydren fleet?” the Umar’s voice whispered in all of their minds.

“Privateers, Doctor. These are Laydren Privateers, the Laydren Navy has not officially attached any of their vessels to the Zion task forces,” the human in the suit scoffed.

Sterin stepped away from her brothers, closer to human who had spoken.

“We are Laydren. Only we may speak on how our people operate,” Sterin snarled.

“And yet, where is your majestic grand fleet? Why has the stalwart shield of civilization forsaken the very first true interstellar democracy in the universe?” the human in the suit asked.

“Federation, actually,” Dr. Malcom hesitantly spoke.

“I beg your pardon?”

“A group of governments all acting together, it’s a federation not a democracy,” Dr. Malcom said.

“That’s quite enough doctor. Captain Sterin, you may now board your passengers, I am sure their every need shall be attended to by your, lovely crew,” the human in the suit said stiffly.

Before Sterin could spit her retort, the humans in suits turned their backs and stomped away, the other Sema and Umar turning and also leaving. Only the Earth Marines, Professor Malcom, the Umar and Sema who had spoken remained.

“Payment be damned, any of you fucks even try to tell me how to run my ship, I will send you back in a grocery bag,” Sterin snarled.

“Just get us there and back in one piece,” the Earth Marine leader said darkly.

The Earth Marine who had spoken walked past her, shoulder checking her harshly as his men climbed up the ramp. Rage and anger burned inside Sterin’s chest, as her vision doubled. She had killed many, many people for far, far less. But here, on Zion, she had to play nice.

“I am terribly sorry,” Malcom said hurriedly.

“You, Sema, what is your name?” Sterin barked.

“I have chosen the name, Sage,” the Sema chimed warmly.

“Are you male or female?” Sterin asked, tilting her head.

Sage chuckled.

“My people have long since evolved past the need for reproductive organs, Captain.”

“How awful. What about you mushroom?”

“This organism is designated Emur by single minded life forms. We are the Umar.”

“Right, hive mind, I forgot. Welp, c’mon meat suits, welcome aboard the fucking Exelon,” Sterin sighed.

The captain beckoned with a flick of her wrist and led the way of the ramp. The little Sema didn’t so much walk as they did crawl, using all limbs to glide forward with near perfect precision, the long white flowing robes, and hood around their body flapping in the wind. The Umar slimed forward like a snail, leaving behind a messy chemical trail. Professor Malcom walked forward with wonder in his eyes, drinking in the sight of the massive silver vessel. Chang Mai trailed behind them all, hands in his pockets as he walked with a stoic air of ease.

“So, Professor Malcom, what rock am I taking you to?” Sterin drolled, hands in her pockets as she stewed.

“Ah yes, um, I don’t know,” Professor Malcom sighed.

“For fuck’s sakes!” Sterin barked.

“Once we have departed from orbit, we shall receive a transmission from Talabor. The Champion of Zion shall send the coordinates,” Sage smiled.

“Why is the Angel of Death sending us on an errand run?” Aine asked worriedly.

“Dunno. But I’m starting to get why we were chosen now,” Sterin growled.

“You are a very experienced explorer and talented captain, no doubt?” Doctor Malcom arched an eyebrow.

“She’s a crazed warrior with an expendable fleet, which specializes in getting out of tight scenarios,” Miken smiled.

“Oh, lovely,” Malcom sighed.

“So, you’re the timid archeologist I’m guessing. We have an Umar, so universal translator, and Sage, you’re part of the Star Caste I’m guessing from the white robes?” Sterin asked.

“That’s right,” Sage nodded.

The Vagabonds’ intelligence operative, an archaeologist, a translator, and a being who could navigate interstellar and interdimensional travel by memory and minimal instruments. Sterin racked her brain, trying to figure out why Zyhara and Rachel would want such a specialized, scientific crew escorted by off the books pirates.

“Some pretty specialized folk for an errand run,” Miken huffed softly to his sister.

“Relic retrieval?” Aine murmured.

“Relic retrieval?” Malcom asked with wide eyes.

Vivid memories of Seraph came back to Captain Sterin, as she had witnessed Seraph’s armies march across the cosmos. In past lives, the ascended human kingdoms and Laydren had worked hand in hand, laying the groundwork and contingencies in vaults across the cosmos in case anything where to happen.

“No. We’re going after something bigger. Heads on a swivel boys, I have a lovely feeling about this new contract,” Sterin grinned.

They reached the top of the ramp, the chaos within unfolding before them. All the Earth Marines had their guns raised, pointing at the horde of Spree all chanting, bashing weapons, gnashing teeth, and shrieking.

“Oh dear lord,” Malcom croaked.

“Ah, Spree. Lovely!” Sage smiled.

“It has been some time since the Umar have interacted with the hordes of Torvac,” Emur echoed in their minds.

Sterin scowled and beckoned for the scientists to stay. She then carefully skirted around the Marines and stood in between them and her crew.

“Boys. Boys! Hey! Fuckers!” Sterin roared.

Slowly, the horde quieted down, their narrowed eyes studying her like a sea of glowing fireflies.

“These are our friends! No touch! No kill! No eat!” Sterin shouted.

“EAT!” a Spree roared, crossing both of his machetes over his head. The horde erupted.

“EAT! EAT! EAT! EAT!” the horde chanted, stomping their feet as one.

“KILL!”

“KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!”

“MEEEEEEEEEEEAT!”

“MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!”

“BREAK BONES!”

“BREAK BONES! BREAK THEIR BONES! KILL, EAT, EAT, EAT!”

Sterin crossed her arms, her back to the passengers, grinning. She winked an eye, and slowly the horde settled down.

“No eat! Friend!” Sterin barked.

“Friend,” the horde lowly chanted.

Sterin held her palms together, arms fully extended, and parted them, holding her arms out wide as if she was swimming in slow motion. The horde obeyed, parting like the sea. She smiled, and nodded, then assumed a stone-cold expression. She turned and faced the boarding party. Every face was framed with pale fear, yet Mai’s face was smiling.

“The fuck you waiting for? An invitation? Let’s go!” Sterin barked at them.

The scientists and marines hesitantly followed, jeering and curses called out to them by the Spree as they passed. The passengers reached the elevator and piled in as the Marines stood outside.

“Miken, be a dear and show these strong, brave human warriors to their quarters,” Sterin smiled.

“This way gentlemen,” Miken beckoned.

“I stay with the scientists,” the marine leader said gruffly.

“What’s your name, darling?” Sterin asked as he squeezed into the elevator.

“Gunnery Sergeant Robinson,” the man said darkly.

He was a barrel-chested, middle-aged man with a buzzed haircut, the sides of his head neatly trimmed with a shave fade by razor. His face was clean shaven, as his olive skin was highlighted by the overhead lights.

“So formal, Gunny,” Sterin laughed, pushing the close button.

“First time with aliens?” Aine laughed.

“Not my first rodeo dealing with weird creatures,” Robinson huffed, eyeing them.

“Odd, I don’t recall seeing the Sol Military during the battle for Zion,” Sterin jabbed.

“I was in the first wave that landed on Mars when their revolution reached the capitol,” Robinson said.

“Then you saw only a day of action with weird creatures,” Mai challenged, leaning against the elevator wall, arms crossed.

“Ah. I see, well, we are not back water human savages, you may find working with more evolved species, refreshing,” Sterin laughed.

“I for one am delighted to be working alongside extraterrestrials,” Doctor Malcom said happily.

“Honey, we’re all extraterrestrials here. The Queen and the Etherals are the only true natives of Zion,” Sterin laughed.

“Ah. Yes, yes quite right,” Malcom nodded abashedly.

“Human exceptionalism tends to nearly rival the Laydrens’,” Sage chortled.

“Watch it, Sema,” Sterin growled.

“Every single-minded civilization we have encountered has deemed themselves centers of the universe. The truth tends to be rather unsettling,” Emur thrummed in their heads.

“Spare us the philosophy, gentlemen. I haven’t had my morning cocktail,” Sterin groaned.

The elevator doors opened, and Captain Sterin strolled forward on to the command deck. As she walked, the passengers marveled at the long rows of controls with numerous seats manned by human crew members. The command deck walls were lined with massive, ten foot tall and several inch thick windows. The long front of the Exelon, bristling with gun turrets and antenna majestically stretching out before the windows. Pride arose in Sterin’s chest, seeing the head of her former enemy perfectly preserved in a separate shield, impaled on a metal spike on the very front of the ship.

She faced the crew manning the controls.

“We have clearance to depart, Captain,” one of the human crew called in their dark uniform.

“Close all hatches, ready the engines, prepare to depart. Follow departure lane twelve, half speed so our sister ships can fall in,” Sterin commanded.

“Acknowledged,” the human called, relaying the commands over her radio headset.

The Exelon thrummed with energy, the low growl of the massive engines growing in intensity as the soft metal thuds of the cargo ramp retracting reached their ears. Sterin held her hands behind her back, standing proudly, when motion caught her eye on the left.

She turned to see her pets coming, the female clad in a black dress, the male in a black crop top and short shorts. The female carried an impressive and fancy margarita, the male had a small meal on a silver platter.

“Thank you dears,” Sterin smiled.

She set the food down by the captain’s chair and sipped the margarita. She then kissed each of them and climbed the small metal stairs that led to the seat. Satisfied, Sterin sat down on her perch. The captain’s chair was a magnificent leather seat, appearing as a throne with command control panels and relays built into either arm of the seat.

Her male pet sat on Sterin’s right upon the steps, the female lounging on a purple cushion on her left.

“Harbinger, green status. Blood Maw, green status. Daggers one, two, three, and six, green status. Brutus, green status. All ships ready to depart, Captain,” the female communications crew member called.

“First Mate Aine, are the gun crews at their stations?” Sterin called.

“They are, Captain!”

“Mister Miken, are our star charts ready?”

“Standing by, dear sister,” Miken chimed.

“Then by my command, Vanguard of the Black Fleet, rise to stars!” Sterin roared.

With a massive boom, the engines of the Exelon ignited. The deck jolted as the flagship detached from the docks, and rose slowly upward, clearing the overhanging, catwalk like, docks that housed all the dozens of other ships in the star port. Ahead of them, the wide and immense cosmos beckoned to them. A purple curtain of the dock’s energy shield shimmered ahead, the only barrier that stood between the breathable air within the docks, and the vacuum of space beyond.

As the massive warship cleared dock proximity, the Exelon picked up speed, cutting through the air like a massive cylinder of death. Sterin activated her proximity map, watching the rest of her vanguard fall into an arrow like formation as they too climbed from their docks. Soon, the bow of the ship went through the dock energy shield, the cold vacuum of space embracing the vessel as condensation, chemicals and sparks flew off the ship.

Soon, the energy shield could not be seen as the Exelon fully departed from the space port. The vanguard followed the long line of floating space buoys, entering into the departure lane. A button glowed on Sterin’s left panel, and she pushed it. A hologram appeared before her, showing a man in a white uniform and headset.

“Black Fleet Vanguard, you are cleared for departure, lane twelve. Safe and happy travels, we look forward to seeing you again,” the control tower operator said warmly.

“Always a pleasure to visit, Sterin out,” she smiled.

With a flick of the button, the hologram cut out. The vanguard ignited their boosters, full power, as they propelled forward, beyond the orbit of Zion. Sterin swirled her margarita, the metal toothpick with an aluminum skull impaled upon it clacking around the salt rimmed glass.

Outside the windows on the left, all could see the far distant surface of Mars, as the vanguard left the space citadel. A few minutes passed, and the ever-looming hulls of the rest of Sterin’s fleet came into view. Resolve filled her, the unknown beckoning to her, as the stars stretched out before them.

“All ships ready to jump, Captain. Navigators awaiting coordinates,” the female communications officer called.

Sterin nodded, crossing her legs, and sipping the sweet drink. As she lounged, both of her brothers came to either side of the throne.

“Where do you think we’re heading?” Miken asked.

“Somewhere with a lot of action, hopefully,” Aine grinned.

“I love bloodshed and plunder as much as the next man, but a paradise world would be nice,” Miken laughed.

“Incoming transmission, Captain!” the communications officer called.

“Finally,” Sterin seethed. She clicked the controls, and her throne swiveled around to face inside the ship.

In the middle of the deck, a large projection hologram flickered into life. Rachel, Champion of Zion, the Angle of Death, stood before them all. Her surroundings seemed, dimly lit. Sterin arched an eyebrow.

“Captain Sterin,” Rachel’s voice echoed throughout the deck.

“At your service, M’ Lady,” Sterin bowed.

“Are these communications, secure?” Rachel asked.

“All who hear this are trusted,” Sterin smiled.

“Then I ask you transfer this to a private channel. This is for your and Chang’s ears only,” Rachel said darkly.

The room was quiet, as Sterin gazed in confusion. She silently nodded, and the hologram turned off.

“I have transferred the link to your cabin, Captain,” the female communications officer said.

“Thanks, love,” Sterin said.

“Want us to tag along?” Miken asked hesitantly.

“Keep these barbarians away from my cabin,” Sterin barked in Laydra.

Miken and Aine nodded, while Doctor Malcom looked confused. He knew some Laydra, most likely bootlegged from merchants. Sterin, Aine, and Miken had lived dozens of lifetimes, each hundreds to thousands of years each, speaking the language. There were numerous tiers of accents, slang, and nomenclature they could use to make sure the human didn’t understand what they said.

Sterin strode to the dark elevator, Chang Mai stalking silently behind. They entered the elevator, and she clicked the floor her cabin was on, the doors closing. As Sterin waited in silence, she reminisced about past memories. Laydren could remember a large majority of their past lives. The most advanced, intelligent, and ruthless species in the galaxy. They had been destined to rule, and yet, the humans somehow always ended up ordering her people around, influencing the course of history in some way.

What was it about them that made humans special? Short lived, egregious little creatures. And yet, they always managed to wind up front and center of the stage that was the cycle of cosmic struggle. Sterin did not so much fear Rachel, as she did respect her. Every life cycle Sterin had encountered the dark human, the woman had commanded nations and brought empires to their knees with a but a whim. A dark feeling entered Sterin, this day felt similar to the previous times she had been sent on a history changing mission by humans.

The elevator door’s opened, and Sterin stomped forward, Mai following. As she walked forward, the crew got out of her way. The Spree were jabbering and tried coming up to her. But one glance from the Captain sent them scurrying away, their eyes wide seeing the purpose in hers.

Sterin entered her cabin and closed the door. Mai took a seat in the corner, his determined face solemn. Once the intelligence operative had taken his seat, she ignited her energy. Bright white light encased the walls, floor, and ceiling. Sterin shed her human form, her Laydren body exposed. Sterin engaged her far sight, scanning the levels above and below her, ensuring no one was listening. The hum of energies and life forces ebbed at her mind as she scanned her surroundings. Satisfied that no one was listening, Captain Sterin turned on her personal hologram.

Rachel’s form glowed blue, as she hovered in midair in the middle of the room.

“Hello Rachel,” Sterin purred.

“Seeka, Mai,” Rachel said.

“I have not gone by that name for several lifetimes,” Sterin sighed.

“Yet I remember it vividly,” Rachel nodded.

“Have humans finally evolved, or have your little daughters cracked open your caches?” Sterin smiled.

“I have been…studying my past. I have spoken to several of my past selves,” Rachel sighed.

“Pity, and here I thought you simpletons had finally elevated to my peoples status.”

A dark look overshadowed Rachel’s face as she grimaced.

“Bold, coming from a dog that is no longer welcome back home, even in the following lives.”

Sterin scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“What do you want, Rachel?”

“I have spoken to the life before Seraph,” Rachel sighed.

“And?”

“She told me, about her deal with your mother. I have come to collect that favor.”

“What deal?”

“Your mother was tasked with hiding the last three remnants of Nameless’s power. My daughters have discovered the location of one of these remnants. I want you to retrieve it, absolutely no one besides you two may know the true purpose of this mission. The scientific delegation shall be told they are conducting a survey on the planet.”

Sterin was silent. Her eyes bugled, her breathe quickening, as she pressed her palms on her forehead.

“My family swore to never bring those things back ever, ever into the light. Humanity tried to rise and failed. Your kind cannot handle that much power!” Sterin shouted.

“He is coming.”

Sterin was silent, a hole forming in her chest. She felt as if her reality was collapsing around her. She looked up, at Rachel’s scowling face.

“Are you sure?” Sterin asked softly.

Rachel nodded slowly.

“We need every weapon we can get for the war to come,” the Angel of Death murmured.