Remnant of the Aether

[TheDutchman]

OK, I am christening LSG our resident Master of Temporal Authorship 

Wow, this battle across time was AWESOME!  I love how multilayered this chapter was, from the Collapse to the interim and finally the "present," we see a facet of Aethan Force abilities that was previously hinted at (***shameful plug***) in Schisms but here is fully developed.  Also: I love the character arc that Milaea is engaged in; certainly hints of greater things to come...

OK, Lord Yn (and his Swords) gave a nice look at the contemporary Sith of the time.  This is a character that I would like to hear more about (too bad...).  And it also shows us (at least a bit) just WHY the Technocracy succumbed and the resultant Collapse occurred.  I really hope that we get to learn more about these disparate periods as well as the "present" timeline 

I love that you're fleshing out the Aethan culture, LSG.  ESPECIALLY with the differing timelines as a literary device; just SO much potential...

Looking forward to more!

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 3 — The Black Obelisk — Part 1

The dripping was slightly bizarre for the fact it made no sound in the airless corridor. 

Sofa was uncertain at how safe a 700 plus year old abandoned facility could be – and dripping cracked walls only added to her doubts.

“It’ll be fine…” Milaea comforted just behind her, her blood red armour a stark contrast to the grimy black and grey walls.

While Milaea had fought a long…half dead….or dead in waiting – such were the enigma’s of temporal combat...Sith Lord under Mount Alixaea Maeson and Melron had followed Milaea’s earlier vision performed a deep aetheric scan on Aeda that held a Trinitarian orbit with the other micro planets Varas and Alina.

What they found was more than a little surprising….

Pushing back ancient cables she came into the vast main chamber of the underground facility.

Aeda was only just large enough to be considered a planet proper with a diameter of 5,000 or so KM and made of mainly the ultradense greysleet, better known to the galaxy as Phirk, giving it mass to keep the other two micro planets in an almost unnaturally defensive orbit around it and maintain a roughly spherical shape.

Overall there was something very deliberate about its position and orbit that stank of Technocracy design.

It had a curious outer covering of frozen helium and nitrogen that had obscured the surface entrance of the ancient Technocracy facility, it appeared the liquid partially melted at Perihelion and solar winds pushed it around like water giving the planet a surface that reminded Sofa of an oil painting of a dark grey rough sea frozen in time.

And deep beneath this ocean was a carefully carved facility of ring tunnels and rooms leading to the main chamber.

The walls were still the natural Phirk of the planet intermittently held up with metal supports, the ceiling 60 metres up was a nonagon receding into a point.  Following down each vertices from the ceiling were lines of pure bloodstone to vast square hollows that went a few metres into the ground. 

Of these nine hollows only one was occupied.

A towering 50 metre high Blackstone Obelisk stood in it, dominating the room despite only occupying one of nine corners.  Before it in the centre of the room were nine pedestals, one for each would be Obelisk, on an each pedestal nine hollows for Orbs making 81 in total – although all of these were empty.

“What the Frell…how did they get that in here!” Sofa exclaimed

“I hope the roof retracts…” Milaea noted wandering toward the huge object. 

One Obelisk alone was an intimidating site, a single vast piece of Blackstone jutting from the ground into a tip just below the roof – the bulk of the ultra dense material had a gravitational draw on her – she could only imagine what this place would be like if the other eight Obelisks were in place.

“And if it doesn’t retract?” Sofa queried till her own quick Aethan mind filled in the gap…

“Frell…to teleport something that size and mass…”

“Do we know what it was for…” Milaea inquired coming up behind Adaea who was inspecting the circuitry beneath one of the floor panels

“Hmmm we found some notes in the other rooms, they confirm what you found under the mountain it was a kind of surveillance device, but it was never finished…another Remnant”

Milaea could not recall such a thing from Aethena’s memories…but it wouldn’t surprise her if one of the Technocracies Directories had worked on it in secret to avoid any possible leaking to the Sith of that era as they closed in.

At any rate the Goddesses had lead her here and that was all that mattered.

She stepped up to the towering Obelisk that seemed poised to collapse down onto her, undaunted she ran her hand over the smooth light eating stone face…closing her eyes she felt the aether tugged away from her – not in a consuming way…but a subtle yet strong…

“It’s an aerial…a massive Aether aerial…” Milaea looked about the room once more the positioning of everything making sense suddenly…

“Nine huge aerials to pick up the aether from…from…” her mind rapidly performed eldritch calculations based on the density of the blackstone multiplied by nine – no exponential…but of course it would also be ‘enchanted’ to enhance its ability to draw in more information…the calculus strained across four levels of her consciousness to calculate…even that wasn’t enough…she added her fifth and sixth

the Scale of this…

“It could detect aetheric signals from here to the Colonies…possibly further…”

“Exactly…” Adaea went on closing the hatch and wandering to one of the empty pedestals

“I think this was used to filter and clean the signals…remove background aetheric emanations and natural pulses…”

“They could’ve seen everything…heard everything nearby…the Sith would’ve lost every advantage they had…” Milaea finished as Sofa came up beside her
“..if they had time to finish it…”

“Explain something to me…” Sofa stared up at the vast black monolith her fourth stream of consciousness curious as to why the Matriarchal technocracy would make something which such obvious potential phallic symbolism…but that wasn’t her main query.

“If the technocracy had tech and Aether devices like this, an army of Superhumans and Valance and Aethena…how could a few Sith warlords possibly defeat them?”

“Weight of numbers…” Milaea answered

“Even at its height the Technocracy never had a population of much more than 500,000, they believed too much in quality over quantity…” Milaea knelt by one of the empty pedestals running her hand over it sensing the internal blackstone ‘wires’

“…and even then most of the population was only Gene-generation 19 or 20…four levels of consciousness, 2.5 times human strength and speed….They were rolling out the upgrades, but by the time the Sith found Aethas only the Elite Guardian corps had been made Generation 30 like Aethena and Valance who were the prototypes…”

“Well transition isn’t easy…” Sofa noted form personal experience

Milaea nodded

“The difference between generation 20 and 30 was large and dangerous to attempt, and the difference…gen 19 and 20 were powerful, but still only able to take down two maybe three Sith Knights…”

Sofa did the sums, coming in fresh Jarys could wipe at least eight regular present day Jedi off the map before slowing down, two or three masters at once - but could still find an equal in the grizzled Wookie Sentinel Yshrrk.

“And I’m guessing the Sith weren’t shy about sacrificing their soldiers either…” Sofa added truing over a curious looking remote control like device in her hand

“Even the lesser warlords had slave armies in the millions, crammed into huge dreadnoughts they’d dump them on a planet like a plague of insects, raping and killing – they’d die by their thousands, but eventually they’d drown everything.”

“They didn’t fight back against their masters?”

“All the time…” Valens chimed in between taking notes on the Obelisk

“That is the Sith way, the strong and ambitious rise up, the weak and ambitious bide their time…even the most deranged creature dreamed of being a Sith Lord – some succeeded – illiterate mentally unstable maniacs addicted to combat stimms who rose from the hordes to the Vanguards, then the Knights…mostly by killing their immediate superiors…the Technocracy in their pride underestimated some of those self-made Lords…”

“Ugly times…”Sofa concluded

“Still are…” Milaea mused

“But what are we going to do with this…” she redirected the conversation to the Obelisk

“Finish it…” The more she thought about the device the more possibilities filled her mind…

Even as a passive scanning system it would give us tremendous power and knowledge…if it could be weaponised…used as a long range aetheric ‘cannon’….

She didn’t want to think that far ahead, what would be would be, it wasn’t her responsibility to control what other People did with it.

“I don’t think we have the resources to do so…” Valens slid behind her and Sofa

“We have, of course the three unfinished Obelisks under Mount Alixaea…but we need to know more how to program them, we have no filtering orbs, the listening chambers here are unfinished…”

He paused as the enormity of the challenge filled his mind

“To mine five more obelisks like that…program them…then develop an interface and screening system…it would take all of us years working together night and day...”

“The Technocracy didn’t leave an instruction manual?” Sofa queried

“Mount Alixaea has the schematics and overall theory and planning…” Adaea answered

“but there are notes throughout  showing where they hit road blocks…it seems like they hadn’t finished ironing out all the issues before they started building…the aetheric and scientific theory is sound but the aetheric and physical engineering and architecture still has some gaps.”

She pulled up from the circuits and popped her notation orb into a small slot beside six others on her belt.

 “…but I think there is a better use for now…if it can be activated to start receiving signals I think we can tune it to only pick up very specific aetheric signals…key emotions, phrases, aetheric flow patterns…”

“Songs….” Milaea whispered

“That is a good way of describing it…yes we could tune it to People’s ‘Song!” Adaea said exuberantly ignorant of the solemn import of Milaea’s term 

The potential clicked in Sofa’s head
“A way to detect any other People…any other survivors out there…”

“It wouldn’t be precise…but it is better than nothing…” Valens said deflating the optimism with the reality

Milaea stepped toward the Obelisk…

This is something I can do…something I can help with…something peaceful…restorative….Healing but then the next thought hit her back down

But what if we don’t find anyone out there after 20 years…or what if…not it is certain they’ll have been treated as badly as Lydan and Kassyndra…what will they do to rescue other People they find…They attacked the Jedi Temple itself when they felt I was hostage there…killed thousands to get the clones off Xithar…

Valens sensed her disquiet and shifted toward Sofa, Milaea would be more receptive of his intent if she knew it was filtered through Sofa to whom Milaea knew Valens could never lie nor manipulate.

<We’ll be more subtle…we have to be…> he thought across to Sofa

<How often does that work out?> Sofa replied gently sliding her hand back to take his to strengthen the connection

<Not as often as we’d like I know…but we have to try…none of us want the Jedi or Sith to realise we still exist…especially not with devices like this and the new Destroyers being built….>

<Arms race much Valens…> Sofa sighed mentally <Alright, I understand…>

She reached out to Milaea placing her hand on her shoulder

“It’ll be OK, we’ll be as subtle as possible….you can take the lead if you like?”

Milaea nodded, she could trust Valens wouldn’t actively disobey Sofa…it wasn’t that she didn’t trust, even love Valens like a brother…but she knew how he and Kiraea went about things…
 
Milaea didn’t want the responsibility of leadership alone, she wanted a collaborative decision making process…but Jarys could hardly be expected to side against his brother and mate, Selaena and Lyaea sided with Kiraea more often than not, Adaea was indifferent to moral issues, Maeson and Melron more concerned about restoring the farms. 

Only Sofa and Milaea ever tended to disagree with them, but their vote not strong enough to win…at least Sofa seemed to be able to soften Valens sharper edges.

Sofa could feel Milaea’s disquiet…Milaea could lead them if she wanted…but she didn’t…wouldn’t’ take that burden on…as if the discomfort of following someone you don’t agree with was preferable to the pain of being responsible for making the wrong choice herself.

Disliking the anxious air in the aether Adaea focused on the task at hand

“Well Mili and I will get to work on it…but there is the issue that we’d need a strong signal I think, or at least an…hmm…intentional bit of ‘singing’ our Peoples song for us to hear…after all they could be very far away…”

Valens nodded

“Any survivors might be afraid to reveal themselves, unwilling to use the aether for fear of the Jedi…or worse…we’d need a way to tell them it’s…relatively safe to reconnect….”

“But if you can tell them that then you should already be able to find them without this…” Sofa pointed up at the Obelisk, she paused for a moment as the others remained quiet.

“…oh…sorry third level cognisance thinking…” she said sheepishly at her own silliness, broadcasting a message to a vast audience was one thing, but if the survivors were still enslaved the chance of replying via conventional means was slim at best.

“It’s ok Sof you’ll get used to it…” Mili comforted at her simplistic thinking, she was gradually adapting to higher level cognition the other People used but still slipped into linear human thought occasionally.

“…Valens is right…we need to broadcast something across the galaxy that we are here and now able to help them…we have the ships, credits manpower and freedom to act we didn’t have even a year ago…”

Milaea’s words were full of conviction, despite herself she couldn’t help but speak as a leader sometimes.

“Once the first Obelisk is ready…We need to advertise.”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Remnant — I — Awakening

Authors Note: Remnant sections occur outside of the main 'Chapter' sequence and main story arcs (for now...) and follow each other in sequence from The Remnant Prologue

Now

The vulgarity filled hubbub of the reeking tavern was broken by the woosh of a body flying from the creaking double doors into the filth caked bottles behind the bar.

Such was the force of the impact that the body split open in several places in addition to where the glass had lodged into the body.

Eyes and other electromagnetic radiation sensory organs turned to the door where they were met with the absence of anything with which to fix their attention upon.

Three towering pillars of absent light drew them in by weight of mass as the middle one spoke in ancient clipped tones too fast for them to understand.

“Y Fyrst une taea reveal what hath traeanspired shaeall Dyye paeanlessly,”

<<<<>>>>

5 Days Earlier

The muggy haze of Cryo-disorientation and hibernation sickness was lanced away by the rapid surge of Aertemisin from adrenal glands lit by furious sparks of neural activity as long dormant minds awoke.

Situational Analysis began immediately.

Excluding the Cryo tubes interior glowing with sprays of energy to artificially reset circadian rhythms, lighting was minimal.  Atmosphere was depleted and thin, what particles did reach olfactory senses indicated a mix of silicone dust, oxidized iron and micro fragments of Blackstone and Greysleet.

Audible data was limited to sub vibrations given the lack of gas to carry waves.  Thermal and mass senses detected only two objects in the surrounding area containing radiant heat at variance with the immediate surrounds. Their profiles were not consistent with any Gene Generation metabolism, at rest or under stress.

Aetheric senses detected the same two as anomalous.

Containment followed.

The miner and his grandson were slammed and dragged along the floor by invisible weights as shadow giants stepped out of the pods whose blue glow was gradually dimmed.

“Maker, Asha, Bogan, Quetzene, Father, Tao-Kin save us!” the old man cried as two enormous feet appeared before him, his grandson frozen in terror.

His body was lifted like a feather on the breeze.

Situational Analysis continued by scouting the immediate vicinity.

The Miner and his grandson could see nothing but lightning clouds of shadow.  Even had there been enough light for their primitive visual sensors they’d have seen nothing more.

Bodies large and firm moved faster than the miners eyes could even track in the dim glow of the deep core stars that filtered through to this inner chamber. 

Every motion was calculated, precise – the essential amount of energy expended and nothing more.  There was nothing random or wasted in the lifting of any pieces of rubble, the prying of any meter boxes or power conduits, each glide of their fingers was mathematically perfect to achieve the objective with minimal required effort.

<First, Second and Eighth are compromised> Fifth communicated via their telepathic link – terse efficient wording encoded in a sub-conscious battle cipher known only to what had been Nine of them.

<Western wing has caved in, sonic aetheric detection indicates complete collapse not partial> Sixth added as he swept across the chamber walls

<Eastern Wing armour partially intact> Third reported <Aegis Armour Seven Units, Black-Shatter-Swords eight Units functional aetheric energy depleted, Gauss rifles – 6 Units functional, battery depleted, Las-Pistol five units functional, battery depleted.>

<Generators offline, kinetic damage and erosion, pods were powered by geothermal emergency supplies> Fifth’s assessment of the main laboratory continued as Fourth and Seventh went into the control rooms.

<Extensive damage and erosion to all facility assets, battery power on all consoles depleted>

They moved swiftly, in the course of 30 standard seconds they had checked every console and powered device in the facility, their senses lowly returning to optimal.

The two miners remained limp before the one being that was not shifting like a wraith between objects in what was to their petty mortal eyes an incomprehensible dance of ghosts and demons.

<Outer wall breach, meteorite impact, sedimentary build-up on flooring of 6mm lunar dust…estimated time to accumulate based on average lunar sedimentary dispersal pattern… five to eight hundred standard years> Fourth surmised.

The young man began to make out more of the figure before him as his eyes adjusted…it was a giant of some kind…but a human looking one…a woman in fact but muscular as a Yinchorri and taller than a Wookie.

<All memory drives are corrupted or damaged beyond recovery, positional data will have been lost with the ships in hangar.> Fourth finished

<Communications black box located> Seventh began

<Orb power depleted, infusing> there followed a pause filled with light blue sparks as he re-energised the long latent device.

<Data is corrupted, final recorded message is reconstructed as follows, “Aethas Under Siege, All Units return Aethans Dominabutir Astris”>

The information compiled across their telepathic link, utilising the resources of their joint seventh conscious level to deduce which scenarios best fit their observations.

Their last orders were to return to Aethas…they were centuries too late.

Protocols learned by direct memory implantation via their enhanced Aethenaea cortex scrolled to the next objectives now that the immediate situation was assessed - Secure weapons and transportation – contact Technocracy Command – if contact could not be made default Orders of Purgatio Astra remained.

Ninth stared at the two humanoid beings cowering before her, one in a state of psychological freeze response, the other muttering incantations to false deities.

The grandson’s eyes widened as she lifted him close to her. 

She was the most beautifully terrifying thing he had ever seen, a face without blemish or error of nature…but large...too large…like a God had tried to take human form but could only fit their divine enormity into a frame 3 metres tall at the smallest.

<Tell us what has transpired here and you will die quickly>

<<<<>>>>

Now

The already filthy and unkempt streets of Mamzer Station - the last stop on a dead end route through the deep core frequented by the half sane miners and wretched denizens after whom the place was named ‘bastard’ in the old Rakkata tongue – were painted with the bodies of those who had proved of no use.

Most were completely dead, haemorrhages from blunt mental penetration shattering already fragile sanity beyond what haggard underfed bodies could cope with.

Others simply lolled with lifeless rolling eyes dribbling out spittle that mixed with blood coming from their noses that would slowly kill them as it became infected by the ever present groz fleas.

Among the dead was an old miner and his grandson.  They too had proved of no use apart from supplying what could only charitably be called a space ship and the navigational knowledge to reach this local ‘hub’.

The elimination had been carried out with cold calculation at the same time as they scrounged for anything of use.

The denizens of this place were uneducated yokels, their electronic devices full of lurid erotic holo picts and scrawled half legible sentences tracking gambling debts and tips on how to navigate the impenetrable labyrinth of the deep core.

Ninth’s Aegis armour sat heavily upon her, fortunately they had found seven suits in tact…given only six of their original nine survived it was enough…but still reminded her of the loss. 

The armours thin rear batteries were long since depleted and so far they could find no easily compatible technologies to recharge them, leaving many of the armours best capabilities inactive. It increased the time it took to search.

<I have located a…more capable…vessel> Fifth briefed <along with navigation data that may be sufficient to locate if not Aethas then at least Byss>

Ninth’s jaw shifted with a rare display of annoyance.  The exact co-ordinates of the Aethas system were kept on specially designed Way Finders Orbs aboard Technocracy ships, units in the field deleted their own memories to ensure if they were captured by the Sith the location could not be extracted by aetheric delving.

The only wayfinders they had were crushed beneath the rock of the moon their facility was located upon, turned to dust in the time that had passed.  By their more revised estimates it had been approximately 750 to 800 years since they had entered their last cryo sequence till now. 

They had no Communication Orbs of sufficient power to try and contact the Technocracy, only their armours inbuilt ones which had a range of half a medium sized planet at best.  They would need more virgin blackstone to craft one.

And even then…there may not be a Technocracy to contact

<Our search is complete> Fourth reported
 
<We have obtained limited quantities of valuable minerals, but these primitives possessed no detailed written accounts of recent or comparatively historical events>

Even mind scouring the creatures had been a waste, none seemed to have any knowledge of Aethas or the Sith System Lords of the deep core. The former was welcome, the latter troubling.

If the Sith did not rule here who did…and what had become of them?

<Prepare the vessel as best you can we leave for Byss in six hours>

Whoever ruled Byss, whatever had become of the Technocracy their critical objective remained.

Purgatio Astra

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

Wow...   I caught up.   

As Dutch said, the time-spanning battle was pretty cool.   Its also nice to finally get a picture of just what happened to the Technocracy, and further glimpses of how the Remnant rebuilt.  The Aether antenna is ... well.  Scary. 

The last bit, the Remnant entry...   I think there are other survivors...   :-)   That could be an interesting contrast.

And if Millie really DOES start bringing dead Aethans back from the past...

Well.

So much potential.  I am very interested to see where this ends up.   :-)

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 4 — Where the Heart Is — Healing — Part 1

Milaea

She swallowed hard as she entered the clean white room. The door behind her shut out the sound of the drills boring deeper into Mount Aelia – while the first floors had been fitted out there was still much to do to turn the mountain in the north eastern corner of the Valley into a proper fortress. 

As important as her work with the Obelisk was, she didn’t want to burn out working on just the one thing and this was just as important if not more so.

Valens and Sofa had taken over from Milaea and Adaea working on the Obelisks filtering systems for the next few weeks…she wondered how the couple would cope working so tightly together on such complex aetheric systems…

She forced herself back to the task at hand.

In the quiet white walled room, cold Chiss medical equipment lining the walls her Grandmother lay under a thin sheet, heavy totem on her breast keeping her unconscious as drips fed in nutrients.

There was something haunting about Kassyndra’s unconscious features that made Milaea dread coming here despite her promise to heal her. 

Most obvious was the eyeless sockets that sat darkened in the shadow of her brow – the punishment of a slave master for trying to escape, it made Milaea feel like doing some very un-Jedi like things. 

It was also a haunting irony in that it made Kassyndra look much like a Miraluka -one of the two known progenitor species of the Aethans themselves - though genetic engineering and selective breeding left ‘modern’ Aethans no more closely related to Miraluka than a Human was to a Mythosaur.

How far we are from our ancestors…yet still look the same

Yet once more she was avoiding her main cause for disquiet.

Even for all the mutilation…Kassyndra still looked like Milaea.  All Aethans had a similar ‘look’ with such a small genetically engineered population it was inevitable, the Extolled and Sons could only tell the women apart based on their different hair styles – within the People the differences were obvious – but so were the similarities –and it was painfully clear Milaea and Kassyndra  were closely related. 

The set of her cheeks and chin were the same, the same as the one person that connected them and was not there…

How far I am from my grandmother…yet still look the same

Cilina…Kassyndra’s daughter and Milaea’s mother.  She had been killed before Milaea could even speak…yet still Milaea could remember her voice…her presence in a way she couldn’t articulate.  It was that similarity that now struck her so hard.

What will she think…being awoken only to learn her daughters are gone…would she even want to be…should she be left to slip away…what will she think of me

It was impossible for her to separate what should be a professional task of healing from the personal implications of who was being healed…to divide the ‘now’ from the ‘then’ neatly enough to focus on what she had to do.

Milaea closed her eyes before the pressures became too much, emptying out the worries by filling herself with compassion for the wounded as Soryu taught her…a compassion that didn’t concern itself with who needed help only that they did.

The process wasn’t overly difficult, Kassyndra had been given a steady supply of raw nutrients through the intravenous drips, and Aethan biology featured an impressive ability to regrow anything that was missing, Milaea merely needed to kick-start the process, and then use the aether to accelerate it.

Still it was not going to be an especially neat process.  She lay her hand over the ‘healing’ totem on Kassyndra’s breast, the heavy carved object exuding the power of Kiraea’s incapacitating aether enchantment…Milaea wanted to be sure it was powerful enough to prevent Kassyndra from waking up.

Feeling out the ‘programming’ Milaea re-enforced the ‘enchantment’ of the bloodstone totem while strengthening its aim on Kassyndra’s mind. 

The anaesthetic power was significant but like other ‘enchanted technology’ needed to be personalised before it would work properly – much to Valens and Kiraea’s displeasure they hadn’t figured out a way to make a large scale incapacitating Enchanted weapon…

Yet…they’ll find a way eventually…perhaps I should help him…better to knock Outsider’s unconscious by the dozen than simply destroy them…

She pushed the thought aside as the suppressive aetheric field reached its peak, the blood stone back to near capacity with aetheric charge.

Confident Kassyndra would remain under Milaea began the painful work of removing the scar tissue on her eyes, her scalpel working with all the speed and precision that her genehanced fingers could yield.  Beside her the medi-scanner simply confirmed what her far more accurate eye sight could already discern as she cut in a little deeper to re-wound the nerves and veins past where the scarring had sealed them off. 

By creating new incisions it would stimulate regeneration much like pruning a plant. 

Now Mialea added her own power, body sheathed in a red glow she poured it into Kassyndra to boost her recovery as the nutrient bags slowly drained as Kassyndras twelve chambered heart began to squeeze faster to push the additional proteins to the site of the damage. 

Milaea worked internally slowing blood flow to Kassyndra’s legs and arms to sustenance levels only to maximize the resources being put into the eyes even as she began scraping out small pieces of dead tissue in-between the tendrils of new growth musculature forming in the eye sockets. 

The regrowth was not an appealing process to watch, but it had to be carefully tracked.  Most disconcerting was as the eyes slowly reformed how they stared blankly up toward her…Milaea knew she was unconscious but still it came as a relief when the eye lids were finally healed sufficiently to close over.

By the time she finished there was a moderate sheen of sweat…or rather the Aethan equivalent thereof which was more liquid insulation and could be expressed in response to heat or cold…on her brow.  She rechecked the totem and ran diagnostics using the scanners, the technology once more merely confirming what she could sense.

As Kassyndra’s body settled down Milaea felt only more nervous, healing her physically was the easy part…

Awakening her….

<<<<>>>>

If there was one thing the Masters Milaea had at the Temple insisted on it was not using Force for trivial tasks such as cleaning up a long since abandoned house.

Aethans were more pragmatic – so long as you could do something the ‘normal’ way just as well, using the aether was fine – for a race of purely force sensitives they did not take their abilities for granted, manual skills were just as highly prized as aetheric, to neglect one for the other was foolish.

After considering her options Milaea had decided the best place to awaken Kassyndra would be in her former home.

Empty for the last twenty years the solid wood long house was still in reasonable condition situated with the other houses of the Mountain Village on a relatively verdant plateau overlooking the end of the Valley a short walk from the Waterfalls. 

She brushed her hand along the earthy dust atop a hide bound satchel by the door way, a ‘C’ embroidered carefully upon it…Milaea knew what that meant…who it belonged to….

A gust of cool wind caught her off guard as Jarys entered, her biological father having insisted on helping her.

“The walls are still strong, I’ve cleared off the plants growing in the creases and resealed them, the roof…” he paused noting what she was touching, a sadness crossing his face.  Pausing he stepped slowly toward her.

“That…was your mothers…after getting married we were to come here, I’d collect up all her things and then we’d go back to my family’s farm…looks like she already packed…”

The tenderness in his voice wet her eyes – to see such a towering strong man still so hurt after so long…to the Jedi Jarys had been an emotionless merciless beast, able to snap a seasoned knight in two with a thought, capable of fighting the utterly enormous Wookie High Sentinel Yshrrk to a standstill in hand to hand combat – yet to the People he was a caring and considered protector, an excellent and patient teacher, utterly devoted to and supportive of all People.

“…all her things are yours by right…I will…” he turned back outside, the aether pounding with sorrow flowing off him, it was too much to even see something that had belonged to Cilina – a man who had put his fist through a Sith Lords Chest, seen the worst of the galaxy while freeing slaves with the Sons, fought hideous monstrosities of Lucovis….brought low by the reminder of his lost bride.

Nodding, though he was already gone, she closed the door and opened the satchel. 

Inside were the expected things, two dresses, some underclothes, a few books and various combs and hair clips, sewing and knitting needles and…a small tightly woven blanket featuring Cilina and Jarys family colours blue and black against the typical creamy white fabric…a babies blanket no doubt Cilina made it expecting to wrap her child in it one day….

….to wrap Milaea in.

Taking up the blanket she pressed it against her cheek dotting away the tears.  This was going to be harder than she imagined.

<<<<>>>

“You can only sense them with the aether….” Jarys noted, after making sure everything was structurally sound he had re built the gardens, shed and barn, despite there being no animals, while Milaea cleaned up inside – the whole process had taken only two days – an Aethan in need of something to take his mind off sorrows could be extremely productive.

Now he pointed to the apparently blank tapestries on the walls around the main room of the long house.

“The Mountain Village women were almost all Volva’s, they’d sew these with thread and aether…Kassyndra herself is a strong Volva, her mother – your great grandmother – Shilea…whom Valens wife was named for…was a Volva and a Guardian…”

He paused considering for a moment

“I suppose that is why you see the future so easily, those powers were always strong in women from the Mountain Village…but tended to come later in life than you got them”

Staring at the intricate myth written in the aether into the tightly woven cloth Milaea was reminded of Miralukan artefacts she had seen on a trip to the Coruscant Museum of Antiquities with Soryu…wicker baskets and shawls that she stared at for almost an hour while Soryu patiently stood behind her encouraging her to reach out with the Force to the objects…

Obviously the traditions had been retained and the Mountain Village inhabited by Aethans with relatively stronger Miralukan DNA. 

“I’d never heard the People had Volva’s is it like a Seeress…” Milaea queried, “…not like priestess?”

Jarys shrugged

“Roles are not so distinct as in the Republic…one person can be many things…”

Milaea understood and Jarys flowed meaning across the aether to her, there were very few formal roles in Aethan society expect Guardian, and even that was now no longer a distinction with everyone to be trained and the nature of training to take into account the needs of surviving in a larger galaxy. 

Volva was the title given to a woman with particularly accurate visions and freely sharing them rather than a formal role, much like Kiraea was loosely a priestess for being the eldest woman with the most detailed knowledge of Myths and Rituals, people organically obtained a place in the tribe.

“Perhaps….you and Kassyndra could revive that tradition, it would be good to have a Volva to look out for us….”

Jarys well knew Milaea’s trepidation about looking into the future, the pain it could bring, she didn’t reply but he could feel her reluctance. 

“More so…” he clarified quickly running his hand along the tapestry which was a kind of family tree with a brief sense of each ancestor’s aetheric presence expertly infused in the threads, giving a hint at their personality and even occupation. 

“…to avoid losing these arts and knowledge, preserve it rather than use it for prophecy”

That seemed a more reasonable proposal.

“That might be a nice idea…” Milaea agreed placing her hand on his as it ran along the tapestry…they had lost so much already…healing the People culturally Milaea had realised was just as important as physically and emotionally…indeed the three could not truly be separated.

Her touch still felt strange to him…it shouldn’t…she was his daughter, and yet sometimes he still felt that was more accident of biology, Soryu was really the one who raised her after all.

Feeling his doubt Milaea doubled down leaning into him supportively.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered

“You will be a good father…I think…I know you and Kiraea will have many children….”

“Perhaps…” he replied quietly placing his other hand over hers.

A thought suddenly struck her and she pulled away leaping over to Cilina’s old satchel – taking out the blanket she had found earlier she scanned it with the aether – there embedded in the threads was ‘tune’ of sorts, a soothing Song the Mak’tor might say woven into the babies blanket – a child that reached out with the aether would instantly be met by the soothing melody and settled.

Marveling at the creation she nonetheless took it over to Jarys.

“Here, I want you to have this, you and Kiraea, for your own babies,”

He paused before touching it, scanning it gently with the aether, the song of the piece doubling under both their touches.

“Thank you…” he whispered quietly…

“I think it’s time.”

<<<<>>>>

Kassyndra lay on a large gormin wool rug by the fire of her house, Milaea sat crossed legged beside her – Jarys further down in the long house – as Son in Law and a Guardian if Kassyndra became frightened his presence would reassure her.

Milaea deftly removed the Sleep-totem from her grand-mothers breast deactivating is anaesthetic effect and waited.

Kassyndra’s breathing gradually became firmer and less frequent, People typically only needed to breath once every few hours, their bodies less reliant on oxygen for energy generation and much more efficient at using the oxygen they did imbue.

A warm presence built up beside Milaea, flickers of consciousness gradually drew together, like strokes of a painting – or more aptly thread of a tapestry gradually coming back together.

The fire crackled every so often warming Kassyndra’s cheek as she felt herself awaken, thoughts swirling about.  By instinct she reached out with the aether…instantly a welcoming presence latched onto her, yet still felt uncertain to grasp her fully.

“My baby…” Kassyndra whispered through a dry throat eyes still closed.  Milaea looked to Jarys who nodded she should move closer.

Touching Kassyndra’s arm her eyes flickered open.

“My Baby?”

Kassyndra could feel the woman beside her was…hers…but not Cilina or Shilea…

Milaea worried she as being mistaken for Cilina I can’t pretend to be my mother…

Before her worries Kassyndra would be disappointed could be realised her hand grasped Milaea’s in time with a strengthening of Kassyndra’s aetheric presence trying to grasp at Milaea’s firmly but warmly – like a mother.

“My Baby.” Kassyndra sad firmly and clearly eyes now fully open and combined with the aether truly seeing Milaea – there was no doubt as to her identity, the daughter of her daughter, and that made her Kassyndra’s baby – there was no strict distinction between children and grandchildren, or even nieces and nephews, in the collectivist close knit Aethan culture. 

Rising up on still uncertain arms she pulled into Milaea’s hug.

Satisfied the women were contended Jarys quietly left as they held each other.

Exactly how long they remained that way in the silence by the fire was only told when Kassyndra finally pulled away from her child needing to eat and drink, Milaea rushing to the small pack noted the sun had risen and poked through a small gap in the door.

It was to be the first of many mornings they would spend together.

Milaea telling Kassyndra of what she could remember of Cilina, her father Soryu and the good parts of the Jedi Temple…

Kassyndra showing her how to sew aetherically charged tapestries and telling stories of her forebears, Guardians, Volva’s, and simple traders and weavers all considered of equal importance, another healing was just commencing.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 4 — Where the Heart Is  — Healing — Part 2

Selaena

In the second of the three medical theatres, next to the one Kassyndra had so recently been restored in, Selaena and Lyaea huddled over Lydan - son and brother to them – with weary eyes awake for nearly four standard days, unwilling to cease their efforts.

It was a painstakingly slow process removing the cybernetics, especially those in his brain.  Even for People with dexterity and precision movements better than nano-surgical droids it took time, cleansing his blood of combat-stims had already taken weeks and left her arm sore as she gave more and more of her own blood to replace what he lost.

But if it took a thousand years and a thousand deaths Selaena would’ve done it gladly to heal her son.  Lydan, her poor sweet boy had been turned by the nasty Outsider Aur Hondo into the cybernetic killer Surge, it gave her enormous pleasure to watch the video of how the Sons of Kessels had the filthy Aqualish lynched to death by his own slaves.

Yet painfully was Selaena was aware she could not heal her son alone. While she was more than able to perform shatter point healing, Lydans wretched state required an extreme amount of raw power to repair fully, almost as much as a complete body transference and generation such as Sofa had undergone – and the only People with that kind of raw strength were Valens and Milaea.

As the days wore on Selaena was becoming impatient for that moment to arrive, but also did not wish to intrude upon Kassyndra and Milaea as they reconnected.

Impatience masked her true fear – just what state would Lydan be in mentally when he was awoken?

The mental and aether scans were…inconclusive…their bodies were more than capable of repairing almost any damage, and their psychology had been designed by the Technocracy to cope effortlessly with the traumas and terrors of constant warfare making them immune to many depressive or anxious conditions an outsider would suffer after the same experiences.

Yet even so there were limits.

Warm hands held her shoulders suddenly

“You should rest mother…you’ve been awake nearly five days…” Lyaea noted behind her

Selaena swallowed dry, only just realizing she was quite dehydrated

“…you can’t look after Lydan if you’re not well yourself,”

It made her feel guilty to have to consider her own needs when her child was in such pain, yet she knew Lyaea was right.

Flicking through the medical scans Lyaea assessed the results

“We can’t do any more, we need Milaea to help boost his recovery, I’ll hook up the IV’s for the raw nutrients and fluids while you rest, then we can visit her together,”

Glancing to her brother Lyaea wondered if the Extolled might not be able to assist as well, the Yuuzhan Vong possessed many unique biotech skills and devices that she was determined to learn, even now the men were training with their senior warrior Yhum.

The thought sat for a moment as her Mother headed to get some food with a hug, perhaps one day…but not yet…

The People would adapt the most useful Vong Biotech - but only adapt - it was not fitting to utilise outsider, even Friendly outsider, bio devices on themselves – but it would certainly offer new ideas on how they could enhance themselves in the future.

Stepping to the side of the bed Lyaea wrapped one hand around the stumped palm that had once been covered with cybernetic fingers, her other hand stroking the whispy white strands on Lydans gaunt head, supressing the rage for what the outsiders had done to him as best she could…

“This won’t be easy brother…” she leaned forward to kiss his head

“But you will get better, no matter what it takes,”

<<<<>>>>

She kept her presence warm as the hearth fire as she embraced Selaena.  Whilst they had not known each other well, being from opposite ends of the Valley, she was no stranger to Kassyndra, and now they were just as bonded by their determination to see the People thrive once more.

Parting from her she guided her and Lyaea to the best place by the fire while Milaea prepared some small foods while Maeson and Melron planted the first crops and repaired the orchards.

“How are you settling in Kassyndra?” Lyaea asked crossing her legs, dressed once more in a traditional dress as they all were, the natural cottons connecting them to plant and earth.

“Well, it is…different here now…but good to be Home at last…” her hands brushed her brow

“Only my eyes twitching occasionally as they resettle after being restored,”

Milaea came in setting down beside her grandmother and handing out small bowls of the food, a mix of various high energy density foods with supplements for their unique needs.

“They function well?” Selaena said, her speech sparing as Milaea had indicated – both she and Kassyndra had suffered horribly at the hands of outsiders. 

“As good as ever, the twitching should subside after a few months?” she looked to Milaea for confirmation

“Yes they should, so I suppose you’re here to talk about Lydan?”

Selaena nodded eagerly
“We’ve done all we can, it’s time to repair him fully…” she paused in her enthusiasm
“If you are able,”

Milaea could feel the hope and trepidation mingled in Selaena, wishing to heal her son, but afraid he would not recover so easily as Kassyndra after being so brutalised. 

“Not if I am able…” Milaea replied to a quizzical look from the other women,

“If we are able…I’ll provide the extra energy, but you and Lyaea will heal him, his family that knows him best, you can give him the extra care and attention to detail I can’t,”

Lyaea smiled, and Selaena as well understanding, there was a certain art to such in depth healing and people who knew him as he was could better restore him from his damaged state…and in doing so hopefully Milaea thought, help heal themselves.

<<<<>>>>

If Kassyndra had been a sad sight before being healed, Lydan was utterly depressing.

So cut up from the cybernetics he had barely half the volume he should, even accounting for the vast amounts of nutrients and fluids pumping into his body to serve as raw material for regrowth.

Lyaea stood off to the side showing Kassyndra a small booklet with instructions on the overall process, Kassyndra curious to see how it all worked. 

Milaea had written the booklet after reviewing some of the tomes they had taken from Lucovis Almas fortress.

The Sith Alchemy tomes dealt mostly with transformation and necromancy – this situation was not far from it, without the life support machines Lydan would not survive on his own.

Milaea had no compunction about integrating Sith Alchemy techniques into her healing methods, the simple fact was they had some techniques that were better than those the Jedi or even Aethan Guardians had developed, notably around avoiding cancerous growths, fluid retention and backwash effects from the material source, allowing Milaea to devise a more effective means of repair.   

“Are we all ready?” she glanced to the women, all in clean whites provided as part of the Chiss medical suite

Selaena nodded her stomachs tightening with anticipation as she stood before the ruin of her son, only the thinnest trace of energy marking him as alive in the aether.

Milaea stepped between her and Lyaea – she would be in the centre holding their hands while Lyaea and Selaena’s outer hands flowed the energy into Lydan, Kassyndra still recovering herself but eager to participate was given the simpler task of making sure the nutrients continued to flow to his body.

Stretching out their hands Selaena paused, on the precipice of her hopes finding herself stalled – a jolt in her body dispelled the momentary delay as fiery red flew from her hand.

She poured out all she could of healing comfort, feeling her power lifted as Milaea channelled her seemingly endless raw energy into her.

Selaena hadn’t even noticed she had closed her eyes as she focused on mentally not on Lydan as he was now, but the young boy he had been, Lyaea opposite keeping a steady pace of energy in turn reflecting on the trips they would take as a family, how she Lydan and their father would tell stories in the evening in the barn after the herds were brought in, learning to swim with their mother….

These were the very things Milaea could never have provided – Lyaea and Selaena poured in all their feeling and memories of Lydan, the moments and experiences that made up his life before the Devastation, sparks that knit the nascent shattered consciousness of his aetheric presence back together – Milaea could’ve repaired his body but not the mind like they could. 

This was what made such comprehensive healing so powerful, but also limited it’s application, only those who truly knew you could truly heal, mind body and spirit.

Her arm strained being held up for what seemed like an hour as Lyaea finally opened her eyes, the room still red as energy flowed, but the figure on the bed looked different – the pallid white of his skin was now turning a raw pink, rounded growths protruding from the cuts left from the cybernetics as organs regrew and bones extended once more.

Milaea felt the rush of Lydans natural repair mechanisms start to kick in, Selaena shuddering with delight at the change that indicated his body was restarting, it was now Milaea pushed into the two women instructions to make their flows more precise, which organs to focus on first, and for how long to avoid excessive growth.

Working in tandem the ruined body turned more and more fluids that Kassyndra ensured did not cease into flesh and bone once more, the shatter point healing causing cells to divide at a rapid pace.

Lydan’s body began to tremble, a minor spasm sent it up, Lyaea kept the flow steady mentally consoling her mother they were on the right path, more signs were forthcoming as the less pleasant elements of such extreme healing became apparent - his digestive system restarting and expelling waste products from the building of new cells.

Her own breath starting to falter Milaea eased off, Selaena and Lyaea following in a gradual reduction of energy flows as Lydans own body took over the task – his body was near fully restored, limbs still looked far too thin, unique Aethan chest bones that acted like plate armour visible making the contrast to human configuration all the more obvious, but his skin was warm and pink now, flushed with blood, his presence even if not conscious was humming with activity in the aether soaking in all the power the Aether of their home could provide freely.

Now…they could only wait.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 4 — Where the Heart is — Healing — Part 3

 

Milaea

The basics weren’t hard to learn – the mechanisms of it all, under, over, though, tie off there, switch threads…but the artistry was something Milaea struggled with.

Kassyndra gently guided her weaving the small blanket, threads carefully stored before the Devastation still pliant enough to use for practice and teaching.  It was more than just making a piece of fabric, it was a form of meditation and reflection, getting into a flow zone much like Soryu had taught her while practising the Forms – yet as with all things Aethan it had a deeper edge.

The thoughts and subconscious feelings bled out in the aether into the infused wool they used – Gormin were an aether using species as all on Aethas were – not naturally of course, they were selectively bred Nerf and Bantha Hybrids with a touch of a dozen other animals – as such their wool naturally held and absorbed the aether like it did air to insulate the wearer.

Milaea’s aetheric pattern woven into a small blanket was tense, still on edge even months after Ord Mirit. Yet having that feeling flow out of her and reflect back at her this way let her see it more clearly.

Kassyndra’s more well-crafted blanket was at first much sorrow, but then building to acceptance and hopefulness, contentment that though she had lost much in her daughters, she could focus on what she did have in Milaea and the others, and just being home.

“…your mother would sit just where you are,” Kassyndra noted absently stitching away on finer details around the border.

“Shilea opposite, always trying to outdo each other like twins do,” A thin smile crossed Kassyndra’s lips as she recalled those moments,

“Cilina would get so competitive she’d go too fast and make a mistake, have to unstitch whole sections to fix it, Shilea was more steady, but sometimes didn’t show the same passion Cilina did…”

She finished off another row

“I see them both in you, you’re calmer like Shilea, but when you do set out to do something, when you were healing poor Lydan, you put you’re all into it like Cilina would’ve….”

Setting down her needle she reached out to Milaea’s arm

“She would’ve been very proud of how clever and kind you are, I know I am,”

Milaea barely noticed until the tear hit the blanket she was crying, but the next line she stitched…felt of relief in the aether.

For some reason, though they had barely spend three weeks together, Kassyndra’s approval meant so much to her that it now made her cry as she lay her head on her grandmothers shoulder.

<<<<>>>>

Selaena

She would not leave his side.

For a week she had sat beside her son after having carried him down from the medical centre in the mountain to a long house Lyaea and Adaea had quickly cleaned and strengthened.

The closer Lydan was to the earth, the more familiar his surrounds, the better – it was only on Lyaea’s insistence Selaeana had not carried him to their old house in the hill village, she wanted to keep her brother closer to their proper medical equipment and Milaea in case something went wrong.   

So far all that had happened was the very slow draining of his IV’s that she changed out every three hours exactly, then cleaned and washed away the refuse as his body digested the nutrients and slowly built up a healthier level of muscle.

She knew his body would recover, they were engineered to heal rapidly and effectively, a few weeks of physical therapy would be easily enough to recover near full strength…but his mind…

The thoughts ran round her head endlessly, scenarios of disaster and delight competing as she waited to see when…if he awoke.

What if he never did, how long to wait before she euthanized him? What if he did but was damaged, corrupted by the outsiders beyond correction? A few simple presses to lull him to the embrace of the Goddesses while he was in a coma was one thing – but could she end him if he awoke mad, resisting her attempt.

Selaena would not let anyone else do it, even a Guardian, she was his mother, if he was gone she would send him on his way, no one else…

And what would become of her, could she live with herself after? She had Lyaea, but…   

Day after day she was as frozen as her boy, hovering between life and death, plagued by fear.

Another week passed, Milaea visited with Kassyndra, they had woven a large blanket for him together, infused with stories of Kassyndra’s survival to give him hope, Lyaea would visit every morning to bring her food, Adaea with her every second day.

Adaea looked curiously at Lydan.

He was handsome if still slightly boyish, with neat brown hair Selaena had no doubt trimmed, though his features were too gaunt to tell if h favoured his mother in looks, his body also still underweight but showed promise of a muscular frame.

He seemed so lonely despite his mother with him, and Selaena seemed very hopeless…it made Adaea feel uncomfortable, she didn’t like seeing other People sad or lonely like she had been before Kiraea rescued her.

Lydan would need someone to look after him, not just his Mother and Sister…he needed….

“…a wife…I’ll be his wife if he gets better,” Adaea said seemingly out of nowhere

At that Selaena looked up assessing what she had said

Lydan is kind and gentle, he will be a good husband for Adaea who will be sweet and affectionate to him

Lyaea not quite startled working through the reasoning of her adoptive sister…

He needs support to recover…so few of us left need to pair up quickly to repopulate…Adaea is lonely too, wants her own family…she knows Lydan, we so often talked about our families…

He’ll have a real future, a family of his own, give him a focus to get better…Adaea can give love and affection in ways I can’t

By the group thought and mingling feelings of the aether the matter was settled in an instant, each of the women feeling relieved for it – Adaea would have a kind husband and chance to have babies of her own, Lyaea would see her sister and brother happy together supporting each other, Selaena knew her son would have someone else to look after him, to encourage him in his recovery and after have a family just as she’d always hoped for him.

A small moment of hope flashed between them, a light that might yet break the shadowed night of his suffering that provided a moment of healing and solace for all the women who loved him.

<<<<>>>>

Milaea

Water trickled out of the open mouth onto shimmering greysleet that glistened wet the midday sun. 

Cold winds from higher up the mountain kept her hair in constant flux as they had wandered up the hold trails guided by firm if slightly aged and tattered guide ropes.

The white caps of the mountain peaks reflected the sun harshly making the entrance into the cavern from which the water flowed and into darkness all the more jarring.

Kassyndra lead the way, wrapped in a warm gormin fur knitted coat, Mialea hadn’t felt the need for such given how sunny it was…but the altitude and glaciers combined to prove her wrong.

Shivering slightly she looked about the cavern, her eyes quickly adjusting to the dark.  Like all sacred caves in the mountains there were carved benches along the side and old rugs, unlit candles, various jugs and amphorae, as well as small religious totems.

The cavern was wide and round, split through the centre by a stream of water entering from a moss and branch covered gap in the far roof from which small jets of light streamed between leaves.  The water flowed into a large central basin, then through and opening in the basin out through the entrance.

There was a rich smell of ash and animal fats, as well as more earthy mineral undertones…she was beginning to recognise them now as mineral based paints – yet the walls though seemingly flattened for painting were conspicuously blank.

“This is where we teach all women how to use their Sight, where the Volva’s would gather to look at what is going to happen…what has happened.” Kassyndra began walking to the basin, dipping one hand in her fingers open, the water still ice cold.

“All People have the Sight…” she went on
No doubt due to our Miraluka ancestry Milaea thought
“But some have the Deep sight…the seiðr - my mother had it…and now you have it…”

She beckoned with her free hand for Milaea to join her then nodded to the water.  Milaea dipped her hand in beside her grandmothers.

“The Seiðr is like water…always flowing, always moving,”

Always in Motion is the Future was Yoda’s approximation

“Try and grasp one moment of it…” Kassyndra’s fingers curled into a fist

“And you’ll only lose the moment as it flows away, your own motion prevents you from holding it…”

The future is not set. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves were other words she recalled from somewhere or other.

“It will flow its own course, perhaps you can guide it a little…” Kassyndra looked up to where the water entered and then down its path leaving the cavern, from where I would flow along eroded grooves to the waterfalls near the mountain village.

“But it will always follow its own path in the end, its natural path…”

Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong Milaea recalled from the Way and Its Power an ancient text Soryu had among his small collection of books she had read as a child, incessantly asking him what each proverb meant.

The recollection of Soryu as her father in that moment made he realise just how much she had come to see Kassyndra as a mother over the last few weeks…given she was her biological Grandmother and the deep genetic and aetheric links between People this was natural – unavoidable even – only now did she appreciate how strong that feeling had grown and so swiftly.

“That is the first thing to learn about the Seiðr you have…” Kassyndra paused for a moment a sad smile on her face

“A lesson you needed and I wasn’t there to give…”

There was truth, Milaea couldn’t deny she had needed to learn that, to know the future wasn’t hers to control, that all her strength couldn’t overcome the pliability of the flow of the Future…a lesson that had been painful for her to learn, and caused untold suffering to so many others…but still…

“It wasn’t your fault, we were all taken…” Milaea tried to console…through the water Kassyndra took her hand

“Still…we need to make up lost time…when we came here to gaze into the Future we looked for simple things…the next harvest, where to start a new mine shaft, which children would make happy marriages and strong children…we didn’t look beyond ourselves when we should’ve…”

She guided their hands out of the water, fingers stinging as the frosty air hit wet skin, and lead her toward one of the benches.

“And you my baby look too much outside yourself, trying to see what the whole galaxy would be doing, and not just Our place in it”

There wasn’t any rebuke in her words, more statement of fact…Milaea had, when she saw visions of possible futures on the Night of Madness, and Ord Mirit, foreseen galaxy spanning vistas where individuals were less protagonists capable of making their own choices than pawns of a cosmic game between light, dark and gray…if she looked to the future with such a bias had that distorted what she saw?

Kassyndra seemed to sense her thoughts as they sat back on the bench, she lifted up a small ceramic bowl, removing the lid – within was a rich red ochre.

“The seiðr isn’t independent of the woman practising it…we see through our own eyes…” she explained

“Our bias, fear, hopes and beliefs shape our visions of the future…” Milaea surmised

“Correct…” Kassyndra rubbed some of the rich mineral between her fingers, it came out less red than orange staining her finger tips as she turned and gently drew three fingers onto the Greysleet wall leaving and orange trail.

“But that means…no vision of the future can be accurate…not just because no variables are held constant, but also because our own vision is distorted, not just our interpretation but the contents of the vision itself….”

“In complex cases yes…for simple things, a few moments into the future, sensing what will happen next in a battle as Jarys and Valens do to outwit their opponents, it is clear of such distortions, males tend to divest themselves of mental loads more easily, but they also see less detail for it.” Kassyndra took another pot, this contained a white granular pigment.

“That’s why males cannot be Volva’s, they lack depth of seiðr…”

“But too much depth is its own problem….”

Kassyndra smiled

“That is the burden my baby, but there are ways to relieve it…” she picked up a third pot, this one with a rich black, likely ground blackstone, paint.

“By having others look at your vision, assess it in community of others with seiðr…”

She handed Milaea the pot

“To do that you must paint what you see,”

<<<<>>>>

Adaea

His back was to them both as the sun set at the far end of the valley, evening winds coming down from the mountains behind them coolly rusting the overgrown grasses about the long house.

For a brief moment Adaea wondered if she had made a mistake promising to marry Lydan, he was so quiet and sullen since waking up a week before, he was according to Lyaea and Selaena always a quiet boy, but now…now he was hardly doing anything…

The disappointment was etched on Selaena’s tired face, she knew it would not be easy, but never thought it would be this hard. 

She had been so excited when he finally regained consciousness, near breaking his neck with her hugs, Milaea had checked and he was physically recovered, albeit underweight, that Selaena aimed to remedy with many thick stews and roasts, but he lacked appetite, lacked any efforts at interaction.

She feared though the body lived her son was long since dead.

“I don’t know what to do anymore…” she whispered to Adaea “Milaea says he is physically recovering, Sofa says not to push, to just be there for him let him go at his own pace…”

Selaena had never imagined going to Sofa, but her training by the Jedi in counselling and psychology…among her own trauma’s and recovery experiences…was a resource not to be wasted.

“Maybe I can try…” Adaea suggested scratching Debi, her pet gobril’s ears as it purred on her shoulder.

“That’s what I hope…perhaps your pheromones…” the women were very aware of how intense the effect a woman’s pheromones could be, many of the Arts of Aephrodaea taught to young women were about managing them, knowing when and how to apply them to keep their males healthy and strong, or in other cases ensure they focused on required tasks.

Adaea’s lips pursed considering that approach, she had been taught how to use them by Kiraea…but Kiraea’s recommended approach to binding a mate might be a bit too…aggressive for Lydan.

“Perhaps I could just sit with him…see if I can get him to talk….”

He felt the young woman approach from behind him, could feel his mother’ presence seize with anxiety again…

Lydan tried to focus on that, to keep one clear thought in his head…but just as he felt some relief at focusing on only one things…his thoughts spiralled out again…

The cacophony of sensation – light, scent, sound, heat, aether was overwhelming…he had been locked so deeply inside himself by the Outsiders…a quiet voice shouted down my cybernetic implants and combat stimulants…that now being out of that silent black box felt too much…

His mind so long confined to a single conscious level, was now sprawled across six, bubbling and frothing with the tsunami of information superhuman aethan senses constantly provided.

“Hello!” Adaea said cheerfully crossing her legs to sit beside him.

“I’m Adaea, you might not remember me…we were very little before….”

Should I mention the Devastation, will that make him sad? Or would it be dishonest…

“…many bad things happened,” she finally resolved…only to be disappointed as he flinched away.

The extra sound and scent of her made him recoil…it was too much at once…

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean too upset you!” Adaea apologized she disliked People feeling bad so very much, picking up on her discomfort Debi chirped up rushing down her arm looking for any threats.

“Oh I forgot this is Debi my gobril!” suddenly a thought struck her.

“I always feel better when I hold Debi…would you like to hold her Lydan,” she scooped up the slightly overweight gobril…she had given her too many sweets...and held her toward him.

He was still half balled arms around his knees, peeking through the gaps he saw the glassy black eyes on the small furred creature, and the smiling but uncertain pretty face of Adaea behind it.

Slowly uncurling he held out his hand, Debi leapt across, his arm bowing shocked by the weight of the 25kg palm sized marsupial.

Debi quickly rushed up his arm, sniffing at Lydan, intermittently looking back to Adaea for confirmation she was still there like a child testing new boundaries.

The Gobril was warm, friendly, so content and uncomplicated…Lydan reached out to stroke its warm brown fur, it was soft, gentle…

Adaea shifted closer noting his presence calming as he patted Debi.

“Here…” she reached

“She loves being scratched behind the ears, why don’t you try!”

Selaena watching on felt a cool shiver of relief flow through her, he was interacting, with Adaea and Debi…

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 4 — Where the Heart is — Healing — Part 4

Milaea

Wearing now only her light vest, the cold of the cavern forgotten by the frenetic heat of activity, Milaea dragged her little finger across to finish the last line of her vision.

What had been hours earlier a blank grey wall was now covered with a mural of the future she had seen.

With only a red-orange, black, white, brown and grey pigment to work with, some sections looked far more dramatic than they were…but this limitation of her pallet was made up for with fine detail in the aether.

Like everything on this world the pigments held aetheric meaning, feelings and thoughts. 

Milaea now more fully understood why Kassyndra had taught her how to infuse rugs and sewing work with the aether before taking her to this cavern, it meant Milaea had learnt how to impart meaning into objects before her first attempt at painting a future.

Once she had started the process felt effortless, she had rapidly entered a flow state, so much so she hadn’t noticed the setting and then re-rising of the sun, or that Kassyndra as in the interim left and returned with food and water for them.

Now they both looked upon Milaea’s creation.

In the centre was a figure, white, brown and orange to make a reasonable attempt at Aethan alabaster skin tones.  To one side she was wreathed with red flame, the other white – the dichotomy of the Red Goddess and the White Jedi Milaea had seen on Coruscant.

In the shadow of the Red was the Oblivion Army, the ships and armour not quite like the ones the People currently flew and wore, beneath their feet the bodies of millions. 

In the white clouds of the Jedi were peaceful beings debating with respect in what looked like the galactic senate based on the rounded platforms they stood upon, yet at the fringes was the looming end of the pax-Republica, the White Jedi kept the darkness at bay, but once her light was gone it would return.

About this central image were others, beings in gray, black, white and orange, their placement was not random but based on a complex web of who they were, who they had and would interact with and in what manner. 

A small figure she believed to be Yoda, stood isolated with another older Jedi…not Soryu, but someone else, someone very far away in time…they seemed to be alone, as if they were the last two Jedi.

Behind them a shadow that exuded a feeling of broken brotherhood with the taller man. This Shadow in turn was dominated by a robed figure Milaea recognised as the Green Faced Emperor she had once spoken to cross time on Coruscant. Yet from this came two beings of…somewhat tainted white to balance the darkness of the Emperor.

Yet they were far in the background…those events and beings distant in time, closer to the front were two gray men, both leaning to shadows even as they stretched arms toward each other – one arm in brother hood, the other in war….a civil war of some kind…disturbingly one of the men – his face detailed with a moustache under flattened nose and hair with top knot –Anzat? - was leaning back toward the central mural that held the images of the Oblivion Army…as if he were somehow connected to the Oblivion Army…either using it or…being used by it

Kassyndra too studied the work –and Milaea as she looked at it. 

Her granddaughter was both relived and tense – the relief came from ‘externalising’ the images that plagued her, putting the future that had so far only been in her head ‘out there’ onto the rock – this process of detaching oneself from a vision was a key reason why the ancient Volva’s had made this place.

Secondly was to see how the Volva saw her own vision…Milaea was boring down on the detail trying to scry meaning, to label the figures she had painted and work out the where and when…her underlying desire to prevent some events and accelerating others was palpable.

Her Granddaughter still hadn’t given up her anxieties on the vision being true.  This was the second reason the Volva’s made this place, and now it was time to teach her.

As Milaea stared ever deeper into the aether ad the pigments Kassyndra quickly dipped a bowl into the basin at the centre of the cave and hurled the icy water onto the murals, splashing Milaea’s face and sending the pigments streaming down as if the wall were weeping colour

Milaea spun around shocked

“My Baby this is how fluid your visions are…washed away by the slightest rain, the tinniest change, you could spend years probing each detail you painted losing your life and your sanity into it…” she stepped forward and handed Milaea the bowl.

“Look for a moment at what your Seiðr has crafted, but not alone, and not for longer than needed, take what it can offer to keep in mind as you go about your life…then wash it away.”

Milaea was less shocked by the action than by the sudden change in Kasyndra’s demeanour…so far she had been kind, gentle and motherly…but now she showed she was also firm and decisive…

It wasn’t a contradiction Milaea realised, Kassyndra was a mother to her, that involved being both supportive and stern as the situation demanded.

And this situation where Milaea was falling back into the trap of obsessing over possible futures demanded it.

Taking the bowl Milaea swiftly cut it through the water and washed the maddening future away.

<<<<>>>>

Selaena

The forest buzzed with life as she gently stalked through it, her presence suppressed, her steps lithe not leaving a trace.

Gosalam clung to the trees, Gopin fretted about picking at fallen fruits and grains from the trees, the odd Gobril appeared in twelve places using its aetheric illusion abilities as Snow-hawks peered down through the canopy looking to pin them telekinetically.

All this was just background, as always Selaena’s focus was on her child.

Lydan walked tentatively along the now overgrown log cutters track, Adaea beside him holding his arm, Debi the Gobril rested on the younger woman’s shoulder.

He was improving by leaps after every one of Adaea’s visits, in some ways it made Selaena jealous that she could not help her son as much…but she understood the essence of it. 

Adaea was an attractive unrelated woman, her presence activated instinctive drives in Lydan to protect and care for her…Selaena as his mother could only inspire a feeling of safety in her boy, not a drive to action.

“…and of course that meant the voltage was too high so I had to put in a tertiary resistor, but then I thought why do that when the charge can be siphoned into a capacitor for use in the void arc….” Adaea’s high voice trailed along as she explained to Lydan the complexities of her latest starship designs…how much of this Lydan understood at the moment Selaena was unsure…but importantly for every word that was being spoken Adaea was gently sliding information into his mind through the aether.

The content of the information didn’t matter, the bonding potential did.

As she swung her body low under a branch then leapt over a knot of vines she recalled how Lysan, her husband and the father of her children had taught her about the intricacies of curing leathers when they were first courting after their parents agreed to the match and the Guardian confirmed they were not too closely related.

She in turn had taught Lysan about fishing, when the best time to head out was, the best bits and the like, how to catch Sea-Gulpers, birds that nested on rocky islets just off the coast….they’d then raced each other out there trying to snatch eggs and avoid the Vosharks…

She hoped her son would soon do such things with Adaea.

<<<<>>>>

Lydan

Even if Adaea couldn’t, Lydan could feel his mother watching them, she was never far.

He was happy for it, it did make him feel safe, but as the weeks had gone by he was feeling more confident around Adaea at least, enjoying playing with Debi, venturing every further on their walks from the house.

…yet even so he could feel a desire to do…things…with Adaea which he was somewhat uncomfortable with his mother watching.

But such could not be for some time…Adaea spoke more loudly each time as his senses became less sensitive, but still too much light and sound could overwhelm his frayed nerves. 

Milaea, a girl he couldn’t remember from before….before….had told him it might take a few months for his regrown nervous system to fully settle.

He still had trouble talking…though in all honesty he had little to talk about with his simple days of eating to regain weight, rest and doing a few small chores…and his words still stuttered as connections slowly reformed in the speech centres of his brain…fortunately Adaea more than made up for his quietness…but it was embarrassing.

“…and then I switched over to manual as the 3D printer just took too long on its own, so much faster to use the aether…”Adaea continued on explaining the intricacies of making the control panels for the ’Vorynx’ Fighters…the thought of so many machines unnerved him…after he had cybernetics forcefully grafted onto him….

They continued down the path Adaea talking and occasional tightening her grip to make sure he kept upright as he felt the occasional twinges of leg spasms that in the first few days had been so bad he feared he would never walk again.

The air became ever more moist as they went deeper into the now overgrown forest, the scents of flora and fauna becoming ever stronger, his face twisting as though he had bitten into a sour Kyala fruit. 

Adaea must’ve noticed…he just hoped she didn’t think it was displeasure at being with her that caused the reaction…

She smiled warmly, she understood, but continued guiding him forward – were it up to him he would’ve run back to the quiet of his room away from the excess of stimulation…but he couldn’t let Adaea down.

Rounding large mossy rock he briefly caught a glimpse of his mother leaping between branches as this as carts.  A rich and heady scent suddenly filled the air almost causing him to stumble.

“…a little further I have a surprise for you!” Adaea beamed increasing her pace, she was skipping along as he felt himself half running, his left leg twitching at the pace as they moved down a path where the trees thinned out but the scents increased.

Just through the wilting shorter shrubbery over long grass that ate up nutrients keeping the trees at bay spread out into a wide meadow dotted with small blue and lilac blossoms of Aephrodaea’s rose, and among the off white stalks of the grass were large brown orange mounds of wool, revealing the source of the strong smell.

A whole herd of Gormin at rest in the meadow, the larger adults arrayed in a rough circle as the juveniles trotted about inside the protective cordon, one larger than all the rest, the lead heifer no doubt, stood up a slightly incline gazing over her herd.

“A whole herd of Gormin!” Adaea said excitedly

“Milaea sensed them while out with Kassyndra….” She gripped him more tightly as the heifer noted their presence and wandered down warily, the other adults swiftly taking note as well.

Suddenly the heifer charged straight toward them.  Eyes wide Lydan felt he was about to collapse as the ground rumbled but Adaea held him firmly in place.

He could feel his mother’s concern and a brief spurt of rushed words between her and Adaea telepathically.

Mere inches from the 800 kilo near 3 metre tall animal hitting them it suddenly stopped, its huge snout and large eyes staring straight at them both.

She was quite an old heifer, how old he couldn’t quite tell but he suspected she had been born before the Devastation based on how long it would take to grow that large, patches of white wool showed a venerable age, and a number of scars and well-worn horns indicated she had protected her herd over the years from numerous vorynx attacks.

Debi on Adaea’s shoulder chirped at the large animal, which boomed low in turn.

“This is the largest herd left…” Adaea said “they’ve survived on their own while we were all away…but now someone needs to look after them…I think you should do it Lydan, you’re so good with Debi, and it will do you good to get out doors more!”

Seeming to understand her words the Heifer looked straight at him. 

Through the aether he could feel the press of the nascent consciousness of the Gormin, it was old enough to remember when the People were still here and they cared for each other, the People protecting them from Vorynx and giving shelter, the Gormin in turn providing wool, milk, and when they grew old and needed to make way for the next generation given the limited food in the valley, meat.

“Me…but I c..c…can’t…I can’t even walk…”

“You just need more practice, you’ll get lots following the Gormin…”

“But what if a Vorynx attacks, how will I…”

“There’s plenty of grass near the houses and mountain for now, by the time they need to graze further you’ll be strong again!”

Lydan looked to Adaea, her face full of hope and confidence in him, then to the Gormin heifer, its face weary of shouldering the protection of the herd alone…it’s effortless connection to the aether presented images in his mind of an over population of vorynx…they had bred too fast without the People to limit their numbers by restricting their access to Gormin and Goyruts…

And finally he felt his mother hidden in the grass, watching on.  He could sense her trepidation, she wanted her son to find his place again, but worried he might not be ready, whatever he did she would help him, but the decision was his.

Swallowing his doubts he stretched out his hand to pat the Gormin on the head.

“Momo…that is what I’ll call you…” he said clearly his stutter holding off for the time being.

“I’ll look after you and your herd Momo if you L…L…L…” his face twisted with frustration as the word stuck, Adaea gently stroked his arm.

“Look after me and my f…family.”

Momo pressed her snout forward and a huge tongue as large as his forearms lapped his head in acceptance.

“Hahaha!” Adaea laughed

“I think she likes you!”

<<<<>>>>

Selaena

Breathing out with relief she looked on as her son made friends with the gentle animals…and Adaea herself, gaining confidence with every interaction.

As the days then passed she still kept near him, ensuring he was always safe, watching on as over a few weeks his strength began to return, his spasms subsided, his confidence increasing as he, with Melron and Valens help, built a Barn for the Gormin to sleep in when it rained.

She saw how with each visit to Milaea and Kassyndra there was less and less shatter-point healing tweaks needed, Milaea giving over the task fully to Kassyndra who was by now rapidly learning from her Granddaughter, teaching each other as their family too long parted came together.

She heard how much more Lydan would talk with his sister as his stutter subsided, then more with Jarys, Kiraea and Maeson as Lydan confronted his fears and asked about how he had been rescued from Aur Hondo of the Black Sun that had sought to weaponize his body.

Even so, flashes of things his body had done as the cybernetic slave Surge began to infiltrate his thoughts, and muscle memories of the combat protocols began to stir. 

Sofa helped with the first, her experience with the Jedi in counselling and psychology of some use, but more importantly her own experiences in dealing with trauma, the loss of agency and the empathy that yielded were invaluable.

Valens assisted with the second, every second morning heading out with him as the Gormin rose to teach Lydan basic marital arts, occasionally joined by Milaea and Kassyndra, Milaea adding in karta’s and sequences used by her adoptive father Soryu that had a calming effect comparative to Valens more combat oriented focus - it all went to ensuring the powerful Aethan motor cortices were restored gradually and the jittering memories smoothed away.

And most of all through all this Adaea’s presence kept Lydan determined to get better – to be better for her.

For a Person could not heal alone, they were People, plural, to be whole, to be healthy they needed to be just that.

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

LSG, that was really really great to read.   The People healing.  :-)

Say what you want about them, its hard not to root for them.  Thank you!

[TheDutchman]

Finally got caught up 

OK, I have to admit that I am THOROUGHLY enjoying this narrative!  This seems like a "peek behind the curtains" to truly see some of the nuances of Aethan culture and society, made even more poignant given what the survivors LOST during the Devastation.  Add into the mix Mili's own anxieties concerning her role as a galactic savior/tyrant/martyr (or something else entirely...) and you've given us a story that is as tragic as the Aethan's past itself.  Wonderful...haunting, but wondeful...

Which brings me to the introduction of "new" characters e.g. Kassyndra, Lydan   One thing I really appreciate is your portrayal of them as people and not the indestructible machines that they could have come off as.  In fact, I think that "Remnant of the Aether" just might be your most revealing narrative yet^^

Oh, and I absolutely loved the easter egg to a certain civil war and resident Kage/tragic figure 

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 5 — Avatars and Acolytes — Part 1

Warriors

It burned every centimetre it rolled down his cheek, gouging into his skin.

The Amphistaff venom was capable of melting durasteel, fortunately Aethan skin was stronger, a cross hatched hyper-keratin that could blunt vibro knives.

Even so, the red flare indicating damage proved the effectiveness of Vong weaponry a solid reminder to Jarys avoiding a hit was preferable to dealing with one.

Strengthening his stance he lunged back with a coufee emulating the thrust Yhum had shown, starting low then rising up with a twist, keeping the elbow loose to manoeuvre away from any attempt to block.

The blade slashed through the air and under Valens guard, his control of the amphistaff not yet expert enough to block the drive that hit him solidly in the training armour made of a crab like voduun.

Two days of every nine day week were spent intensively training with the Yuuzhan Vong, taking in all they could teach with their eidetic memories and ability to near perfectly emulate motions they saw.

It was not difficult to get the basics down, but still the most difficult training Jarys had ever undergone, the Vong were dead in the aether, he could not passively absorb knowledge and skills through his Aethenaea cortex, he had to learn like Outsiders did in the depths of the Vong vessel, a “Ro'ik chuun m'arh”. 

Training in Aetheric nulls was not unknown, but the Vong seemed more ‘absence’ than null – the distinction seemed semantic but Jarys was beginning to sense the subtlety of it – a Null killed all sense of the aether, but an absence…could be conspicuous enough to ‘sense’ if attuned properly.

Valens recovered swinging down the amphistaff in its rigid ‘staff’ configuration, then switching to loose mid sweep, the serpent like creature twisting round to avoid Jarys block and once more spew venom toward him – a swift dodge avoided that and switching feet rapidly wrong footed Valens advance, twisting down to ram his elbow into his brothers knee.

Valens staggered but dodged Jarys follow through, releasing his grip to throw a swift punch cracking the voddun crab shell on Jarys shoulder – just as expected. 

Even after years apart he still knew his brothers tactics well, hand flying forward before Valens could retract his own, he caught the wrist and pulled down with a twist, Jarys other hand slicing down with the coufee to slash into the head, Valens twisting his neck to avoid the main blow unable to avoid a solid cut on the cheek. 

Despite the haze of damage sensation Valens smiled, his shin still sore from a blow Maeson had given him the day before, back scratched from Yhums radank claw a week earlier – scars testament to their growing knowledge.

“Attack, Attack and Attack, then die in honourable battle” that was the Vong creed of warfare as Yhum taught it, Valens implemented his now, accepting the pain he head-butted straight into the dagger – trusting near diamond strength Aethan bone to deflect the couffee and ram into the side of Jarys head – it worked sending his brothers eyes briefly upward with the impact. 

Jarys quickly disengaged, rolling out with a kick and hurling the now blunted coufee along with a thud bug – Valens deflected both with the amphistaff using his natural reflexes rather than the aether.

Parted they sized each other up, both heaving and sweating, the voduun armour soaking up the sweat to hydrate itself – an innovation Melron was especially keen to explore as they designed Mark II Oblivion armour – the old man bursting with energy to learn all he could about the Vong and their culture as he had the Morgukai.

Valens locked eyes with Jarys, dozens of predictive combat models streamed through their fourth and fifth consciousness in an invisible Dejarik.

It didn’t matter.

Out of nowhere three Vong warriors leapt on Valens from behind, crashing him to the ground, barely able to put up his arms to block the blows to his face, Melron and Maeson diving at Jarys, Melron striking with Amphistaff to force him to block then Maeson crash tackling him.

“Attack, attack, and never let your enemy know when or where you attack from…” Yhums voice resonated in the yorik coral training chamber as the melee continued, four more of his warriors, three of whom were formerly ‘shamed ones’ engaging the Avatars.

Standing on the observation lip the battle below became a free for all, Yhum stalked along the edge pointing out errors of both his own warriors and the Avatars as the fight got brutal and close, fists, elbows and knees raw from impacting armour and bone.

The Avatars learned swiftly, and had taught Yhum just as much…he now saw that while the main fleet might succeed initially and undoubtedly do severe damage to the Republic, the Yuuzhan Vong could never fully conquer this galaxy, not with beings such as the Jeedai and Sith, let alone the Avatars or ‘Aethans” as they called themselves.

His greatest hope was now to find a way to communicate this to fleet, and along with Reeda Kwn, the former shaper and now leader of the Extolled, to show the castes their betrayal of the Gods in shaming others to lives of slavery. 

So long he had abused and rejected those with malformations, biots that failed to take, or who through some slip up lost honour, the Avatars showed him the error of his ways, the need to treat all Yuuzhan Vong as just that – Children of the Gods – all were his brothers or sisters, there must be no shaming or abuse, only respect and assistance.

The sight before him, four beings of this galaxy training hard with those who were warriors and Shamed he could not have imagined a year ago, yet now seemed so natural.  And while not all had settled into this new way easily he knew it to be right.

Jarys, the Avatar of Yun’Yammka began to get the upper hand, his strength prodigious and unrestrained, he cast off one warrior, then hurled the Avatar Melron like a child’s plaything.

Yhum nodded to himself, time for another lesson.

Twisting his finger back he withdrew the spiny fluid coated dart and hurled it at Jarys neck.

Distracted it struck true – Jarys rapidly ripped it out, the Avatars advanced biology would not paralyse fully, but the toxin slowed him enough for the Avatar Maeson to sweep Jarys legs from under him.

“Attack, Attack, Attack,” Yhum repeated.

Grunting against the paralysis venom that his immune system was rapidly attacking Jarys obliged, grasping a stray amphistaff and hurling it at Yhum.

Finally! Yhum thought leaping from the edge into the melee.

<<<<>>>>

Researchers

It was as hideous as it was astounding.  Splayed like a creature of the deep sea with no two tendrils matching, sicking glistening webs between each digit and bulbous luminous growths all over.

And yet it was essential they learn Everything about it.

The ‘Shaper hand’ belonged to Reeda Kwn, the Vong Shaper who had been ‘shamed’ for treating other Shamed Ones on the main fleet and sent here as a slave with the Praetorite Vong Scouting party.

At some point the Vong had come into contact with Vigo Xithar of the Black Sun – or rather Darth Lucovis of the Baneite rule of Two –immediately recognising the value of extra-galactic biotechnology he struck a deal with their Prefect Kuun Carr, in exchange for bio-tech Xithar would, through his Scientist Sicara – design vaccines to common diseases native to the galaxy for transmission to the Vong fleet ensuring their invasion was not devastated by a simple outbreak of Bantha-Pox or Corellian Gastroenteritis.

No doubt Lucovis had some plan in mind to scuttle the invasion, and Kuun Carr a plot to ensure that did not succeed…it all became irrelevant when captured by Sicara Lyaea had exploded in rage to escape, the superstitious Shamed Ones interpreting aetheric power and demand they free themselves as evidence she was the Avatar of Yun’Shuno patron of shamed ones in their religion.

All the information Xithar had to bargain for was given freely as a religious duty by Reeda Kwn.

“…and this is a multispectral protein analyser, it links into the vaa tumour to compare the sample against the memory…” Kwn explained each piece of her shaper hand, grafted in replacement of her original in turn to Lyaea, Milaea and Kassyndra as they sat in the coral room of the living vessel.

<It’s range of detection is beyond our own tongues…> Lyaea noted telepathically

The Vong biotech oft times more advanced than their own engineered bodies. The shapers hand alone contained taste bud like features that could break down almost any organic compound to analyse its constituent parts, a tentacle like appendage that could ‘read’ mRNA enough to determine the protein it would make and function thereof, pincers that could perform nucleus level snipping…

<We can adapt much of it…> Kassyndra sent back, Milaea worried about how swiftly her grandmother was taking to the task of ‘enhancing’ themselves further genetically. 

The Technocracies quest for perfection was still deeply entrenched in their DNA.

“Going back, the tumour acts like a database…” Lyaea queried about the organ implanted into the Shapers brain, a biological library linked neurologically to the pre-frontal cortex to allow the being with the implant to access vast amount of knowledge stored in a ‘qasha’.

“Yes…database…” Analogies were difficult.

The vaa tumour stored memories in a neural web that whilst similar to the structure used in Aethan biologically that gave them eidetic memories and capacity to store centuries of lived experience, was in some ways superior to it.

“Could this database be digitized?”

“Digit….” Kwn asked

“Oh transitioned into an electronic format, our technology basically,”

The Yuuzhan Vong had an aversion to non-living technology that Milaea would parallel to Aethan aversion to…well anything Outsider that did not serve them.

“I am…uncertain Avatar, the difference in the nature of the medium may be too great,”

“Not that great,” Lyaea mused her hand flicking out to show off sparks of aetheric lighting that she twisted effortlessly into the image of a brain.

“Neurons are oft, in essence, binary – Ones or Zeroes recording information based on the pattern of their activation in a lattice, such a web can be created using matrix software, then just map the same network across,”

“An artificial intelligence?” Milaea clarified

“In a way, more like an artificial memory, a virtual brain with no conscious ability but with knowledge intact,”

<It will make it easier for us access the wealth of Vong Knowledge> Lyaea happily added telepathically

<Just think how much greater we can become with some of these enhancements…and anyway we will need every advantage we can get when the Vong fleet arrives>

It was impossible to determine where the Vong fleet was and where it would arrive, even with the Extolled’s help they had no way to position the fleet so deep in the galactic void, and the slightest course correction could cause it to arrive in a totally different quadrant.

The few villips they had for communication to the main fleet were specialised to only transmit one way genetic information for vaccines across the extreme distance. 

While the likely time frame for arrival was centuries, Milaea well understood no amount of preparation could be enough.

Reeda was visibly uncomfortable

“Avatar…I do not feel this is an…”  she paused choosing her words to the divine beings carefully

“…appropriate method of sharing knowledge”

‘Avatar’ sat ill with Milaea.  It was bad enough when beings of this galaxy ascribed divinity to Jedi, not an unusual event indeed Soryu had told her after the Bpfaashi uprising, many former worshippers of the Dark Master shifted their worship to the Jedi who defeated him. 

Milaea’s own experiences of the Goddesses meant she didn’t discount the possibility of some alliance between the uncertain Yun’o and the very real Aethan Goddesses….it still did not justify the degree to which the People were using their divinity to benefit from the Extolled.

“…the Shapers knowledge has been held sacrosanct among the Caste since time immemorial, there are rituals to the implantation of the tumour, to understand it requires years of study and symbiotic bonding…” Reeda went on

Lyaea held no compunctions her eyes flaring blue in a cheap aetheric trick to awe Reeda

“I understood the Extolled had cast off the Caste system,” Lyaea replied, pushing out an aetheric glow about her body.

The Extolled revolution removed the strict system that kept some Vong as ‘Shamed ones’ effectively slaves, separate from the Warrior, Shaper, Attendant and Priestly Castes that exploited them.  Lyaea was using this to push them to abandon even more of their traditions with the sole goal of benefiting the People.

<This is quite manipulative Lyaea,> Milaea reproached

<Thank you!> Lyaea beamed

“That is true Avatar…”

Lyaea stepped forward placing her heavier and stronger arm around Reeda, the Extolled woman flinched, such physical contact was unheard of among the Yuuzhan Vong.

“It is the right thing to share your knowledge, as you assisted many shamed ones with your shaper arts while on the fleet that in turn lead to you being shamed for your compassion…” Lyaea soothed, dead to the aether she could not simply dominate Reeda’s mind so had to rely on rhetoric.

Lyaea could be extraordinarily self-absorbed and fickle - even for an Aethan – but when it came to business her naughty and selfish demeanour sharpened into a fierce cunning and eloquence that few could match.

“You followed the Path of Compassion further while among the shamed ones, showing leadership and comforting them…”

Lyaea drew Reeda closer, Milaea well aware such proximity was disgusting to Lyaea – it showed just how much she wanted this knowledge for the People.

“…with each step along this path you brought yourself closer to the Gods, finding myself the Avatar of Yun’Shuno because of it…”

Her eyes flashed blue again.

“Continue the Path, go deeper, show your compassion to all living things by sharing your knowledge as fully as possible…transition from mechanical to biological technology is merely a small hill to climb on the Path,”

Reeda nodded in agreement as Milaea felt equally disturbed and impressed.

“You are correct Avatar, the Path of Compassion leads me closer to the Gods…I will follow it still,”

<You object Milaea? Lya made a strong argument…and this will help the People prepare immensely> Kassyndra inquired

<Not object just…> she paused the tension between her distaste at exploiting the Extolled’s beliefs and the very real need to prepare the People for the Yuzzhan Vong invasion as much as possible at the point of breaking.

<…uncertain.>

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 5 — Avatars and Acolytes — Part 2

Farmers

High in nitrogen, potassium, moist and rich with the scent of life Maeson squeezed the dirt in his hand feeling out the loamy texture.

“Perfect,” he noted to the hideous lipless ‘smile’ of Yahn Dur.

The sun scattered in thin beams through the dense canopy of the equatorial jungle, enormous trees centuries old laced with flowering vines stood sentinel over leafy bushes, sharp grasses and bobbing mushrooms clustered together and writhing with insects and bird life.

“I am pleased to serve Avatar,” Dur crossed his arms against his chest and bowed.

Dur had been a Shamed one, originally a trainee shaper he was cast into slavery for a forbidden cross caste sexual relationship with a priest and spending the better part of thirty years attending to the nurseries and bio-support creatures of Yuuzhan Vong vessels, using his shaper knowledge and natural affinity for vong biots he had been successful in keeping the vessel they came to this galaxy on – the Eversight running smoothly, the water always clean, food always rich in nutrients – even if was a green slimy blob out of a queer pink creatures dangling…dangling…

Maeson shuddered at the thought of what part of the anatomy they got their food from on the long voyage across the galactic void.

“Um…yes serve…well thank you for this, I think it’s time to expand the program to the whole jungle,”

In between training sessions Maeson had been tasked with working with the Vong ‘farmer’ equivalent to help restore Aethas own eco systems. 

While the Chiss terraforming and natural resilience of the genetically engineered plants and species of Aethas was by all other measures already exceptional, Yuuzhan Vong bio-tech would make it even more so and speed the growth of new crops, orchards and forests by years, decades even.

“We will begin transferring the micro-biots immediately.” Dur bowed once more arms across his chest, thirty years of habitual deference hard to overcome it seemed.

The key to the restoration was the soil, specialised Vong bacterium, algae, archaea and fungi adapted to cycling stagnant ship bound soil had been modified further to survive the higher metal content, stronger deep core radiation, higher gravity and noble gases of Aethas to help regenerating soils blasted by the Sith to near glass centuries ago.

Maeson stood up still slightly sore from the last training session, cuts just healed over from the razor sharp amphistaffs, and a large purple welt where a thud bug had struck him on the cheek.

He still looked better than the scarred Vong workers who stank of decay and retained the wretched look of long term malnutrition he had seen too often in the mines he slaved in himself, then with the Sons as they liberated those they could. 

“That will be appreciated,” he stood up after gently patting the soil back down, he’d been a farmer until he’d been taken, a large orchard of Kyala fruits as well as smaller plots of Trigrain cycled with Pob-root – Maeson missed that life, missed his family more…the latter he could never restore, but he might find some peace in regrowing he former.

“Come let us check on Lydan,”

Heading through the circular plots of various Vong plants – villips, glow lichen, Lambents and more Maeson noted approvingly the diversity which would enhance the Aethan Biosphere as it spread…and enhance the People and their animals in turn by interacting with them, adding to competitive pressure that would strengthen all species.

So far they had allocated a number of larger equatorial islands for the Vong to plant crops and release their creatures on, the humid jungle climates were…not uncomfortable…but certainly not preferred by People who lived in the Alpine Valleys on the Northern continent. 

These isles like the other continents would be left to nature as they had been since the time Aethas was first settled, but with a new and ever growing range of more perfect species.

They strolled through the vines laced with young amphistaffs where young Lydan stood with Tschun-Lah, another former shamed one who had been a Warrior first, his crime was to be on the losing side of some internecine conflict in his Domain.

Lydan was suffering the odd twitch or stammer, and as always Selaena was nearby to protect him.

Lydan held out his hand and one of the serpent like creature tangled up along his arm, Tschun watching closely.

“The Warrior and Weapon become one – one body one will, the Will of the warrior is of thought, the Will of the Weapon enacting that thought, when combined they are un-stoppable,” Tschun explained

A sudden twitch along Lydan’s arms – another spasm – caused the amphistaff to rear up and hiss, Lydan placed his other hand at its eye level and drew it back down.  The beady eyes followed the hand till it settled back on his arm.

Tchsun made a slight nod of affirmation at this technique

“When the Warrior is injured, the weapon knows,”

“They are one,” Lydan affirmed.

“This is so,”

“Things going well I see Lydan?” Maeson said warmly

“Yes...these Extolled animals are inter…inter…interesting,”

He was a gentle boy, the Gormin had taken quickly to him as shepherd, and it seemed the Vong creatures responded just as well.   It gave Lydan something to focus on as he healed, and among other lessons they provided him, brought him up to speed. 

As kindly and mild as he was, Lydan would still need to be trained in time – the People needed every man and woman to be a warrior now.

“I think they will scare the herds though…” Lydan explained
“Their different smell and lack of…”

Maeson understood, all these creature lacked the aether – not in the way a Gosalam could create a null barrier or Vosis a deflection field…but rather actual absence.  It was a puzzle they hoped to solve – one day. 

“Well they are best suited for the equatorial jungles any way, not many Gormin here,” Maeson went on

And keep the Vong creatures contained

There was a risk in having them on world, but the need to study them to prepare for the Vong fleet meant there was no other viable option, largely isolated on these islands they could do just that – and then one day Perfect them just as the Technocracy had perfected Ysalamirir and Vornskrs into Gosalam and Vorynx, Nerfs and Bantha’s into Gormin, in time they would turn the Amphistaffs into Vostaffs, Thud Bugs into Krebuds, Villips into Kylips.

Whether he knew it or not Lydan would be key to this, his affinity for living things was essential to achieving that end.

“You are pleased with the progress then Avatar?” Dur asked again crossing his arms in a bow of reverence that Maeson, a veteran of the Sons of Kessel found discomforting.

He took the Extolled’s shoulders and raised him up,

“No need to bow, and yes We are pleased.”

<<<<>>>>

 

Engineers

A block of Blackstone nearly ten meters wide, 5 high and perhaps 13 long lifted from the ground as he felt in his advanced vestibular systems the pulsing of gravity.

Deep under Mount Aelia three Dovin Basals, queer blobby looking things that twisted gravity were in gluggy bloated sacs carried by odd creatures tended to by the Extolled, pulsing as they rested.

Melron stood impressed even as he wiped the sweat from his brow and aided the lifting with the aether to set the bloc down in the huge empty space they were mining out, structural support given by solidified and no longer living Yorik coral skeletons.

Like the other men he still bore the bruises of combat training, and in the recovery time he had a no less important task.

They were rapidly clearing spaces for new sections to their fortress, so quickly now in fact they could begin on the second Mountain fortress at mid Valley Mount Veilaea soon, then to Mount Alixaea to shore up the old Technocracy facility and improve it.

“Good…lets keep it up!” he whispered knowing the echoes would amplify his voice a dozen fold as he guided the heavy slab down.  The block was too small for use as an Obelisk, but would with some cutting serve for plating on Vorynx fighters.

He stood by the next wall feeling the tug of the soli Blackstone…delving into it with his eyes closed to see the fractal lines of where to shatter.  This had been the old way of mining, to use the aether to find the richest mineral veins, use shatterpoint telekinesis to make a break before using more mechanical means – Blackstone ate the aether as much as the light from the Vong Glow bulbs making it – in its raw state – more likely to absorb the pure energy of a telekinetic grip from the aether rather than move.

The People had only basic mining tools before, and even the Chiss methods were slow…but with these basals…

He felt the thin shatter point lines with the aether they were rough edges in his mind…he followed them along, gathered them up then gently poured the aether inside the cracks pressing them apart trying to avoid the blackstone sucking the aether away by being as precise as possible…

The Dovin Basals ‘hummed; as they detected the fractal lines opening.  Once the cracks were obvious they would latch onto the ultradense material, just as they did a celestial body to propel Vong ships, and pulled at the block wriggling it out.

It had taken some time to co-ordinate, but now six hours was down to half an hour per block.

Another slab, wide and jagged pulled free, again he guided it with the aether even as it sought to drain it from him.  Keeping his aetheric power from being consumed was what caused him the most exertion now, the hungry stone buried beneath a mountain for 45 million years rapacious for the energy and light it had been starved of for so long.

Soon it would be filled, enchanted properly, turned to armour, weapons, orbs, statues, tools, each infused with useful aetheric powers…

“Good next one!” he whispered

“If we may Avatar, the basal’s need rest,” one of the Extolled noted

Melron nodded

“Of course…” he summoned up his bladder to drink and gestured for the Extolled to do the same, excited for another time to learn and build the People even stronger as he sat under the glowing flies the Vong used for light.

They sat in a loose circle drinking and nibbling their odd foods,

“Now tell me…” he said to the oldest, a woman Yshee once a Priestess of sorts he got along well with, really she had no expertise in what they were doing here, but she was a font of what Melron was enjoying the most about their allies – the tales of their galaxy and gods. 

They might learnt their tactics from Yhum, technology from Reeda, farming methods from Dur…but from this priestess Melron would learn of the Extolled Soul.

He drew out his scroll and quill.

“..tell me another story of the Yuuzhan Vong People?”

<<<<>>>>

“That’s not much to go on…” Sofa noted irritated at the time it was taking.

Before her was an array of screens from every sensor on the Aertemisaea, her goal finding multiple ways to detect Vongs ships using their sensory suites.

The yorik coral of the vessels shielded the Vong from most thermal detection, the dovin basals could create singularities like an anti gravity well to prevent mass detection, and the radiation that did come off the yorik coral was of a queer type that appeared as little better than background radiation. 

Essentially, unless it moved, it appeared as a rock.

Adaea should be doing this… she grated, the savant like girl was busy with the Obelisk array and looking after Lydan in between, Sofa couldn’t begrudge her either of those tasks.

And Sofa had a very personal reason for wanting to make this work, she had been on the receiving end of a Vong ambush using one of their asteroid like Yorik-stronha – it was her first encounter with the Yuuzhan Vong at the time still ‘allied’ however loosely with Xithar – it had left her beaten and bruised and the Vong had been enough of a shock of unique tactics and weapons to knock Valens unconscious.

“OK…” she looked toward the ‘vilip’ a disgusting leathery thing twisted into the image of the even more hideous visage of the Extolled pilot in the Coralskipper floating in front of the Aertemisaea

“Try you engin…dovin basal…now…”

The pilot complied the dovin basal grasping with its gravity twisting tendril onto the Sun to propel its motion.

Sofa’s eyes and full six levels of consciousness scanned the vast array of read outs looking for changes to the base line she could use to detect the motion.

There were a few peaks here and there, she used the aether to tune a dozen small nobs increasing to decreasing sensitivity and other filtration options…the result seemed good…till she cross referenced to Chiss standardised stellar phenomena results scanning comparison chart and noted it was barely 5 per cent above what would normally be dismissed as a rogue comet.

“Frell!” she snapped angrily just as her iholo beeped with an alarm…

She knew she would crack it eventually…she had to…if they could detected a single coral skipper they could pickup larger craft all the more easily…but it was still a fiddly and frustrating path to get there.

She looked at the alert…maybe she could work out her frustration that way.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 5 — Avatars and Acolytes — Part 3

Hunters

Come on do it!!

He didn’t…
Weak…

Kiraea snapped back her foot slamming the tattooed face to the wall, the covering tearing free on the jagged yorik coral edges to reveal the darker skin tone beneath.

The Vong warrior covered in the Ooglith Masquer to appear as an Extolled quickly retreated hurling thud bugs at her, the buzz of their tiny wings irritating…but not so much as the lack hits she’d endured.

They were meant to be training them just as they had been the men, but the Vong warriors – all male – seemed reluctant to strike them because they were women.

That more than irritated – it offended her,

Sofa was to the side pummelling the Voduun crab armour off a two metre tall warrior clearly working out some tension, Kassyndra tentatively sparring with another while Lyaea watched on, Milaea’s sparring partner was panting and near collapsing for the inability to strike her as she used all the moves Soryu had taught her to avoid being hit.

Kiraea took out her irritation and general disgust by round house kicking every face she could into the wall.

Yhum again looked down from above over the training pit, Kiraea spared him a glance while smashing another Extolled into the wall – she held her punches only to avoid outright killing – what she didn’t do was miss opportunities entirely.

At first she’d thought it might be reverence for Aethans as Avatars of the Gods, their willingness to hit the men due to their being Avatars of Yun-Yammka the war god who enjoyed a hard fight – but now she saw it was both more simple and more difficult to change than that.

The Extolled had come far no doubt to throw off their Caste system, but more needed to be done.

She didn’t even bother to look at the next attacker, simply staring up at Yhum. She ducked beneath an amphistaff thrust, pulled her stomach in to avoid a coufee stab, then backhanded the attacker into the floor.

“Tell your warrior to spar properly…” she yelled stepping onto her most recent victims back, 280 kilo’s of Aethan woman about to crush his bones.

Yhum just glared with a vicious smile over his lipless teeth

“..or come down here and…ouughhh!”

Her complaint was interrupted by the bludgeoning crack of an invisible fist into her spine.  Only her superhuman weight prevented her flying further.  She still managed to twist mid-air catching a glimpse of…

“Gah!” another blow struck her side on, she couldn’t see anything, feel anything, smell anything…

“Oh not those things….” Lyaea sighed

“What…” umpph…Kiraea took another hit, she was moving rapidly under the pure guidance of the aether rather than her own will to avoid more serious blows

“The Cloak of Nuun conceals almost all,” Yhum explained from above

“Our Hunters attack at any pause, any break, they will not relent or taunt,”

Kiraea grimaced at the reproach to her complaint, weaving against an inviable enemy trying to pick up eddies in the air, or some disruption from sound to pin their location.

Lyaea channelled experiences she and Adaea had with Hunters who had managed to capture her - the best way to draw them out was to overwhelm them with a rush of some kind of energy wave or…

Two massive chunks of yorik coral broke from the training rings edge and slammed millimetres past Kiraea on either side with wet meaty slaps as they hit her attackers.

The Vong might be dead in the aether, but there were ways around that – they might immune to being sensed or metaphysical attacks, but they still had mass, physical properties.

Milaea felt a cold rush as another attacker joined her dance of avoidance.

The weekly training session suddenly become much less rote as the Hunters began to strike at all of them.

Yhum had to raise his own skills to keep ahead of the Avatars, fortunately Dur had been grow more Cloaks of Nuun on the rich soils of the jungle isles, Reeda and the shapers adapting the flesh drooping sac like creature to grow on the Avatars world. 

The cloaks were stronger and healthier than any on the Fleet – whether because of adaptations needed to survive Aethas higher gravity and radiation, or simply growing on a real planet rather than crèche ship he could not tell, but suspected both.

Just one example among many of how things were…Revitalising living closer to the Avatars.  Access to real land and sea, real atmosphere fed their symbiont ships and bodies, no longer restricted to certain areas of the ship or afraid to speak to others of different castes fed their sense of unity, the presence of the Avatars of the Gods and New Path fed their souls. 

The Avatar women pooled their resources, no doubt using divine power to share knowledge and plans across minds much like a yammosk, Yhum reflected without them…he would still going system to system, making deals with wretched creatures for knowledge on communicable diseases of this galaxy, raiding for resources while their numbers bled with each engagement and vaccine experimentation.

All in the service of an Overlord and Priestly caste that sent them here knowing they would die for the ‘Glory of the Yuzzhan Vong’, to help the invasion of an Empire that treated a fifth of its population worse than dung while rulers play petty political games hoarding and coveting the finite resources of a fleet in the middle of the galactic void for want of anything else to do on the long voyage to damnation and defeat.

The battle below turned, the initial advantage of his cloaked warriors lost, secondary attacks now.  So it would be for the empire Yhum knew, their first attacks would take this Republic by surprise…it would not last.

Milaea Avatar of Yun’Harla made feints fast and lithe, her kin Kassyndra struck firmly against the attempt the hunter made to catch her granddaughter, Sofa and Lyaea hurled bodies, amphistaffs and thud bugs with uncanny accuracy, Kiraea danced around the edge having found a way to – if not completely detect – then at least locate the Hunters with a high degree of accuracy.

“Attack, Attack, Attack, will you be felled by half your number” he called shaming the weary warriors on the floor to rise again.

To be constantly on the attack was a strategy that worked if you destroyed you enemy completely in the first few waves…the longer the war went the worse the outcome would be.  This galaxy was just too big, its warriors too able.

A brief resurgence pushed the Avatars back, they were limiting the use of their powers, wise not to rely upon them, their native biology more than a match for any Yuuzhan Vong, even warriors with radank claw and subcutaneous biot implants.

The Avatars regrouped, Sofa, Avatar of Yun’Qaah the Lover Goddess at the fore now a coufee in each hand, feet barely touching the ground as she unleashed her frustrations upon the attackers, even holding her blows for training the damage was fierce.

“Awooooo” the Ghoor trumpet sounded to break the sparring the Avatar of Yun’shuno Lyaea assisting the fallen Extolled Hunter back up.

Kiraea stepped toward Yhum a wry smile finally on her face

“And here I was thinking you were all too scared to hit a girl,” she wiped the sweat from her brow, hair frizzy spilling from the bun it had been tied in.

“An enemy is an enemy…” Yhum noted “But you forgot my lesson…”

Kiraea displayed a quizzical look…seconds before another blow slammed her in the back.

“Our Hunters attack at any pause, any break, they will not relent or taunt,” Yhum repeated as she dodged the follow up and the training continued,

“In war there is no Ghoor trumpet that sounds a truce!” He added viciously charging at her himself finger nails dripping with toxins as the battle kicked off once more

“Attack…” Kiraea spat out rolling to her feet and hurling chucks of yoriks coral at him

“…Attack…Attack,”

<<<<>>>>

 

Theologians

“…unity…oneness complete,” The wispy aged voice was resonant in the rounded ‘temple’ like section of the Eversight as Milaea snuck in.

Even so Syyna Tosh, the Priest standing in from of the kneeling worshippers noted her arrival with a lipless grin.

“In perfection Yun-Yuzzhan the All Father existed, until the day in benevolence he tore his body asunder, the pain catalyst of creation as the Gods were formed from the severed pieces of his divine flesh.”

After a training session she came to listen and learn about the Yuzzhan Vong gods and mythology – some tales inspiring - the lover gods Yun-Txiin and Yun-Q’aah sacrificing themselves for their beloved in journeys to and from the underworld, some entertaining, Yun-Harla stealing the knowledge of creation from Yun-Yuzzhan gifting it to Yun-Ne’Shel the modeller, or playing pranks on Yun-Yammka…but the majority, like this story of cosmic creation were replete in glorification of ritualistic mutilation and suffering as conduit for life.

“He All, from the strength of his limbs Yun-Yammka, the keening of his mind Yun-Harla, the working of his fingers Yun-Ne’shel, the passion of his loins Yun-Txiian and Yun-Q’aah, the unity of his blood and gaze of his eyes that bind and look upon all his creations Yun-Shuno…and from the unfathomable intent of the Great Creator the hidden one in the dark Yun-Lingni.”

“All these were from the body of Yun-Yuzzhan, his benevolence, can one then be said to exceed the other!” his voice became booming as he hammered home the ‘new’ beliefs. 

“No they cannot, all children are of His flesh, and all His flesh was Holy, so it is Children…” the calmness and serenity returned to his tone, instructional without being patronizing

“…that we too are all of his flesh, and must not divide that flesh into castes, turn it against itself, for a body divided will not stand…So It Is Known!”

“So It is Known!” the chant of the worshippers echoed

“Now who brings offerings?” he asked drawing forth a coufee.

A woman stood up

“I give these three fingers,” she held up her hand, middle, index and little finger painted red

“To honour the Yun-Harla and her Avatar,” The woman looked toward her proudly.

Milaea’s stomachs dropped.

The ritual scarification and amputation was horrific. Jedi were taught tolerance of all religions and cultures – where they did not infringe on another beings rights – but these beliefs held a disgust deeper than she could hide – and for her to be associated with them as the ‘Avatar’, the living image of the god she would mutilate herself for…

“Come forth and be blessed,” Tosh held his arms wide, blades in both hands he showed his own chest, the ribs visible through pallid skin covered in newly inked tattoos – Yuuzhan Vong teachings surrounding murals of Lyaea, Jarys and Milaea herself as the living image of the Gods above, incision marks where he had organs ritually removed.

Milaea wanted to tell her no…yet she could only do so by asserting her ‘divine’ authority’ over them as Lyaea did, something Milaea could never morally do.  She could insist than another of the People issue the same order, but again that took advantage of the Extolled’s beliefs just as much.

And who was she to tell an adult what to do with their body, that their heartfelt beliefs were untrue? She couldn’t disprove the Vong Gods existence, and as Avatar of ‘Yun-Harla’ they would likely consider anything she said as trickery or a test.

So she said nothing, did nothing, she had at least the fortitude to at least watch the bloody results of her inaction and moral deadlock.

<<<<>>>>

She had swallowed her distaste transcribe the other cortices onto mechanical technology for the Avatars…

Held the bile in her mouth using machines until she became so inured they were just any other object.

Yet now Reeda Kwn felt faint and heady with terror and disgust.

The Qang qahsa, the living creature that stored the eight cortices of shaper knowledge had been faithfully replicated into machine readable data points through what would’ve been a blasphemous amalgam of a cognition hood and ‘Chiss’ neural-replication Virtual intelligence devices.

This was not what put her on the edge of despair.

The Qang qasha contained five prime cortices, accessible to all shapers, two inner ones only Master shapers used – the sum knowledge of protocols to create, modify and engineer all Yuuzhan Vong life forms, all this she had transitioned over long months with her assistants…

Then it came to the eighth, the final cortex.  Only the Supreme Overlord could permit access to the heart of the cortex as directed by the Gods.

Her own Avatars had directed her to open it.  For two days she had procrastinated fighting a life time of indoctrination to bring herself to break the taboo – Lyaea convincing her that the Avatars were a higher authority than any Supreme Overlord could ever be.

And now she found it was empty.

Completely empty.

Reeda feared the Gods would strike her down for transgression in accessing it…

She hoped it would be filled with divine inspiration to create marvels beyond imagination…she would’ve lived happily working to create new biotech to bring the Fleet to her swiftly and share the joyous news by displaying creations of magnificence the hierarchy could not deny.

Instead there was only absence – void clutched to her very soul that ate into her faith.

If this is false what else is untrue….

How many more idols were there to break?  The Caste system, the authority of the Empire and the Overlord, all her interdicts and anathemas in interacting with other races and mechanical technologies, and the one task she thought might provide a glimmer of certainty and affirmation of the Gods….

Cerebrospinal fluid dripped indifferent around her shaper hands as the cognition hood painfully ejected its neural spikes from deep in her cerebellum the connection the Qang Qasha cut off.

Why did she need such affirmation…did she not have in Lyaea, Milaea and the others the Yun’o’s living embodiments?

The more she came to know those she had herself proclaimed Avatars of the Gods the more she saw how fractured and imperfect they were…arrogant, avaricious…powers that seemed divine at first were not so unique to them, Reeda and the other Extolled’s liberation at their hands on reflection seemed less Divine deliverances that calculated strategy….

“Reeda…”

“Huh!” she snapped out of her reflections to the voice of the old shaper Tssaan Shai, he’d been only at the start of his career when he was Shamed but had learned quickly as needs grew once they arrived in this galaxy and the un-shamed shapers whittled away from native diseases.

“Reeda you seem perturbed…were you unable to access the Heart of the Qasha?”

She looked into his aged eye…only one still functional, the other still in need of replacement, the necessary biots still growing on Aethas.

His face bore innumerable scars from beatings, he walked with a limp from a hip injury when a young Warrior had indifferently pushed him from a narrow coral cause way into the garshal pits. 

What was she to say to this man with a face so expectant, who every day was among the most fervent knelt in prayers to Yun’Shuno as embodied by a Villip representation of Lyaea for delivering him from Shame….

“The Qasha was….”

He expected like she did another miracle…another sign of faith….

“Closed to me…to all of us…until worthy…” she adlibbed

He didn’t feign his shock, the other shapers in ear shot came to listen

“Worthy? What revelation is this?”

The eyes were all on her now waiting for her to guide them…she had taken charge so easily that day they met Lyaea, she had been so certain of the truth of the revelation…now…

“I…must consult with the Avatar…”

<<<<>>>>

“Belek Tui!!!” the three Extolled near bashed their heads on the ground as Milaea walked past along worn yorik coral limbs numb after the ‘ritual’ that saw three Extolled offer body parts to her.

The translation of Belek Tui was command me, something in the fear of how easily she could do so finally snapped and she knelt down trying to lift them up.

“Please you don’t have to prostrate yourself every time I walk past,”

The woman at the head of the trio blinked from her deep set eyes, tattoos over thin weary skin as she breathed through the nose less slits in her face.

“These ones live to honour you oh Trickster, deceiver of the Yun’Yuuzhan, master of duplicity,”

There is just no getting through to them is there….nothing will change until I make it change

“Well…” she cringed at the thought of what she was about to do, and more that she hadn’t done it ten minutes before.

“Then this is my command, you will tell everyone that I have a new trick to play, whenever you see an Avatar,” the words were cloggy to speak for their falsity

“You will treat them not as a God to venerate or bow to, but merely another of the Extolled, deserving of respect but not unthinking obedience.”

The other two passed a look between them, the front woman looked back to the others

“Does this injunction include your august self Avatar?”

“It does,”

“Then we shall comply,” the woman said standing up

“…and we shall go about our previous chores?”

Milaea offered a slight nod, her head light with regret and the levity that came from finally taking action – however wrong and the irony of commanding them not to obey her dancing dissonance through her mind.

<<<<>>>>

Avatar of Yun’shuno lay languidly feet propped up on a coral settee soft with yov-sponges that served as cushions, her fingers tapping long her ‘iholo’ device as foul music- to Reeda’s ear – blared about while ‘bubble gum’ popped from her glistening red lips.

“What’s up,” Lyaea sighed still checking her social feeds not looking at the Extolled woman

“Avatar…” the word seemed inappropriate for this all too…petty being before her.

“I have nearly completed the transfer of the vaa tumour…but there is…”

“Just get to it already,” Lyaea sighed irritated her back still scratching from a few wounds in the last training session and the constant stench of the Extolled ship.

“The Qang Qasha is empty, there is no eighth cortex…or it appears empty to my sight, what is the meaning of this Avatar?”

Reeda kept her stance firm in contrast to the languid Avatar

“Are the other cortices uploaded?”

She cares only for the information, not for the implications of this truth…indeed she doesn’t even know what it means…how can she be an Avatar of our Gods and yet so ignorant…

“It is done Avatar…but….”

Now Lyaea snapped up faster than Reeda could blink and was beside her a warm smile as she got what she wanted

“Good I’ll take them immediately,”

I’ve been ignorant…so desperate for hope, to escape my torture I called the first being to show any kindness toward me a God…and Avatar…

As Lyaea headed to the Shapers damutek Reeda saw her, finally truly saw her.

This was not the Avatar of the Yun’o, this was a petty, selfish and manipulative young woman whom Reeda in her despair had foisted her hopes upon.  Without a doubt the Aethans were powerful, incredibly so, but this was not divine gift, this was merely biotechnology and the ‘Force’.

The scales fell, Reeda Kwn had made an enormous mistake and pledged herself and the rest of the Extolled to false gods.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 5 — Avatars and Acolytes — Part 4

Meditations

“Shaper…Reeda…” Yhum said rising from the harsh floor as the sphincter door was slid open.

“What brings you here?”

“Yhum…” the shaper looked visibly distressed, trembling even.

“I fear…I know…I...they are not Gods, they are not even Avatars…I was mistaken…”

Yhum stood his full height subcutaneous bone growths clicking as he did so.

“Mistaken…no we have all witnessed their glory, Yun Harla turning from fire to ice, Yun –Yammka…”

“Striking down a dozen warriors in a dozen seconds, summoning lightening from their hands, twisting time and freezing the Jeedai - I know the creeds and tales I wrote many myself….but it was all wrong…these powers are not unique, those Sith creatures and Jeeedai had them, their biology is the product of design much like all our biots, they are selfish, they are using us to prepare for the invasion, to gain advantage over their enemies with our technology and strategy they…”

She stopped as the fury of a true Warrior crossed Yhum’s face

“BLASPHEMER!” his body shook with righteous rage

“The Avatars have delivered us from ignorance, taught us the TRUE PATH, bringing you out of Shame, myself out of senseless violence and obedience to the False Overlord and Priests!”

His radank claw hand twitched with barely controlled rage, connected directly to his sympathetic nervous system is longed for the fight his hormones were preparing for.

“Were it not for Their teaching on kindness, compassion, forgiveness I would strike you down for your insults!”

What have I done…it’s too late…they all believe too strongly…

“They have liberated us from falsehood, our debt to them is ETERNAL, I assist them as a pleasure, I am Honoured to be so close to the GODS,” he strode forward the size and strength of his muscular body insignificant compared to the zealous fury in his eyes.

“Would you return to ignorance, where we shame and exploit our own, where we are pawns of nobles and clans petty disputes?”

“I do not deny they have brought much good, taught us a better way to live…but the Sons of Kessel who fought beside us preached the same, neither their teaching nor their powers are unique!”

“Perhaps not,” Yhum’s arms crossed against his heaving chest, a physical manifestation of a closed mind.

“A warrior understands in war, no matter preparation, much depends on variables in the hands of the Gods alone, the Avatars came at the critical junction, the perfect instant with their teaching and powers. That is proof enough for me,”

“It could’ve been anyone who helped us! Random chance we intersected when we did!”

“Your words turn from blasphemy to atheism! If all is chance and random what role for the Gods at all? Is this the truth of your complaint? You forsake the Yun’o entirely after they have done so much for you!”

“I…I…” she staggered away leaning on the wall of support, Yhum remained unmoved

Her head was ablaze with argument and counter argument, Yhum’s position was clear, it was the will of the God’s they meet when they did and reveal the Path, how then could their saviours not be Avatars as she herself had declared.

But the closer she was to the Avatars…their rapacious demand for training and knowledge…

“I…my faith is shaken…I don’t know where to turn,”

In a scene unimaginable two years ago Yhum knelt beside her and placed a hand on her back in support.

“Much has changed quickly, the path difficult…a good Warrior knows it is beneficial for his inferiors to voice doubts to his strategy to refine and improve it as you have done, but this does not change the goal of the campaign only the means of its success,”

He helped her up, old scarred face close to hers

“It is no shame to doubt in one’s mind but do not let it affect your actions…go rest, I will not mention this brief moment of doubt again,”

<<<<>>>

“This needs to stop, whatever they owe us for liberating them they have repaid a dozen times over!”

“This isn’t a trade, they are our friends, and friends help each other,”

“Not like this, we are taking their knowledge, their resources, their faith”

“And protect them in turn, Milaea you know how much the Chiss want to get their hands on them…and they would not be so collaborative as we are…any way they want to serve us we are their Avatars”

The two youngest women of the People sat across from each other in the war room of the Aertemisaea as they prepared to deliver the Extolled’s digital version of their Qang qasha - safely locked in multiple copies – to Aethas without delay.

“Pretending to be their gods is abhorrent” Milaea’s voice resolute with a Jedi Knights surety

“Who is pretending?,” Lyaea smiled in return held the unquestioned confidence of a woman raised to believe herself divine

“We Are Goddesses, if their Gods and Ours have come to an agreement who are we to question it,”

“You cannot know that for certain”

“Nor can you disprove it, have you no Faith?”

Again Lyaea proved herself a formidable debater…if anyone was representative of the Trickster Yun-Harla it ought to be her Milaea thought.

“Faith is not necessary,” the reply was cool “The Goddesses are real beings, they interact with us and the planet,”

“Exactly!”

Milaea realised she had just fallen into Lyaea’s trap,

“Faith is believing what you know ain’t real, By their power the Goddesses have hidden us from the Jedi, defeated the Sith, and brought us together with the Extolled to prepare us for the next war when it comes. All evidence the Goddesses want us to do this…”

Lyaea summoned over one of the copies of the Vong’s qasha in the form of a sleek cylindrical Chiss nano-net data drive,

“…and have this to develop defences, enhance ourselves ever closer to perfection,”

“At what price? Pretending to be deities, effectively enslaving the Extolled?”

“They work with us not for us, what else do they have to do, they cannot return, would be executed if they did, if they leave the Chiss will track them”

It was only that Valens swiftly moving to declare the Extolled and Sons of Kessel third Party allies to the Aethans, that the treaty with the Chiss kept them safe…so long as they remained in the Aethas System.

“True though that may be we can’t keep them as pets and workers, what does that make us? No better than their Overlords and Priests”

“So what is your alternative?”

Despite her relaxed posture Milaea knew Lyaea was irritated at her ‘moralising’ of this issue. 

“I…I don’t know….I need to consider it…”

Lyaea moved her mouth as if about to speak, but held back…

Something in the leadership of the People needed to change, Valens could not remain primus inter pares for long in a matriarchal society and of the women only Lyaea or Milaea were suited to that role, for now both, for different reasons, unable to take the role fully…the treatment of the Extolled could well be the flashpoint that forced a resolution.

“Well while you think I’m going to act to ensure the People prosper,” Lyaea finished more than a hint of criticism in her voice.

<<<<>>>>

Another week passed and the Avatars returned for their training.

Yhum held a group session, the men and the women against a Yammosk controlled force, the tentacle creature linking two dozen warriors telepathically against the eight Avatars armed with only basic weapons.  The battle was an even one that ended in a minor victory for the Extolled and stirred the Avatar’s fascination in the mechanisms of Yammosk control.

Maeson and Dur loaded and prepared a number of ambi-sacs full of seedlings and Losh-vat grown immature fauna for transport to the planet along with the first corals seeds to plant damuteks for Dur and the other ‘gardeners’ to stay on the planet proper while attending to the ecosystem recovery.

The first plans for the excavation of Mount Veilaea were drawn up using stick insect like stylus on film like taught skins of dor-octopi that retained the memory of dozens of diagrams inscribed upon their shifting skin.

Sofa finally managed a break through in isolating coral skippers apart from comets and asteroids by cracking the unique neutrino spectrum refraction of yorik coral that could be detected

All this washed past Reeda Kwn as she went about her tasks in a haze, helping with each of these as Master shaper, attending Tosh sermons gazing vacantly as more flesh was offered up to the false Avatars.

The only thing she recalled from the whole week was a few speaking about how the Avatar of Yun-Harla was insisting they not treat her or other Avatars with awe or bow…Tosh musing on what kind of trick Yun-Harla might be playing.

It was some time toward the end of their weekly visit she stumbled unfocused in the corridor,

“Apologies I…” she looked up to the flaming red hair and pristine white skin of the Avatar of Yun-Harla

“Avatar…” she stumbled you her knees by reflex “My apologies”

As much as Milaea struggled with Vong facial expressions beneath the tattoo’s and scarring she could tell Kwn was distraught.

“No trouble at all…are you alright do you need help?”

“I…I am well Avatar…” she stammered even as her shaper hands trembled, various ‘tool’ like digits twitching

Milaea pressed the issue

“You are not ‘well’…is there someone I can get to help you, or speak with?”

Reeda looked at the genuine concern on her face, the earnestness even she could feel from Milaea,

“My malady…is one of the mind I have…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper

“doubts,”

“How far are your quarters?”

<<<<>>>>

The numbness of the past week was the cap upon the eruption.  Milaea needed to give few assurances of confidence for her to express her deep seated misgivings. 

“…our traditions, our culture, or way, all this I’ve abandoned because I believed the Gods spoke to me through Lyaea, through yourself, but if you are not the Avatars of the Gods then…then….”

Her head dropped in shame as she sat upon the hard coral bench.

“Then I have betrayed the Gods and dragged others into the depths of my delusional sin….”

Soryu would know what to say, Milaea knew, how to soothe and support this woman.  But Soryu wasn’t here, she was, and this was wrong.

With a calming breath Milaea gathered her thoughts.

“Did you ever consider that these beliefs, this awakening to a new path was not something you learnt from Lyaea, but something that had grown within you?”

Reeda glanced up puzzled

“You were Shamed because you thought that your role as Shaper, given by the Gods, implored you to compassion toward the shamed, to raise them up, to Extol them years before you met Lyaea. When you met her on the Demagol the beliefs you had already developed were catalysed by Lyaea asking you to release yourself, she didn’t put those ideas there, she just gave you the prompt and opportunity to finally act on them, Reeda,”

Milaea placed her hands on both the Yuuzhan Vong woman’s shoulders raising her up.

“You were the one who Extolled yourself and the others, the Shamed didn’t follow Lyaea because she can throw lighting from her fingers, they followed you because you had tried to help them, you had been their light in the depths of shame and you told them to fight and follow her, if anyone is the Avatar of Yun’Shuno it is you,”

Milaea’s intent was to emulate what she had seen Soryu do for others – to show them that the compassion and justice was not the Jedi’s, or in Reeda’s case and ‘Avatars’, to dispense, it already lived in each individuals heart they just had to find it in themselves….

”One of the best lessons you can give Mili,” Soryu had smiled in the midst of a hurricane on the fringes of the southern Corellian continents wrecked shanty town as nobles muddied their finery in helping clear the mess
“Is to show people the power of kindness and compassion is in them, was with them the whole time. Sometimes they just need to see it in action to remember that,”

But she had not accounted fully for Yuuzhan Vong culture.

Reeda looked only more aghast, face all but pallid.

“Then I have lead the others into blasphemy…Lyaea and yourself idol upon which I attributed divinity because your beliefs mirrored my own errors!”

This was not going as Milaea expected…what would Soryu, Odjina, or Yoda say? What would they do?

No…what would I do…

“I know what it’s like,” Milaea said firmly as her grip that kept Reeda from collapsing to the coral floor.

“To have gone so far down a path believing you were so right then suddenly realise all this time you were wrong, chasing your own fears and anxieties while the real dangers toy with you…but this isn’t what this is Reeda!”

Milaea wanted to shake her, to use the aether to force her understanding into her mind…but she couldn’t and wouldn’t if she could.

“Look at what you’ve done, Warriors, Shapers, Shamed now one People, united as they should be, you’ve created the Peace the Overlords promised. Even if this isn’t the will of the Gods does it make it wrong?”

The two women from radically different cultures united by the same doubts about their role in their Peoples future stared into each other’s eyes seeking answers for who they should be.

“No…” Reeda finally said

“It is Right, whether the Gods ordained…” her shaper hand with its many digits swept to encompass the whole situation

“…this or not…”

“We cannot know the will of the Gods, or through whom they do…” Reeda offered a slight smile to Milaea

“..or do not speak,” her tone was icy perhaps a barb to the absent Lyaea

“You can only act on what is in your heart, perhaps there is something in bring the castes together,” Milaea agreed

“In reuniting the body of Yun-Yuzzhan from which new creation can be brought forth,”

“Yes…yet…where do I go from here…the others believe with such ferocity…they have seen and experienced their own signs, I can’t begrudge them that even if my faith will change…”

Reeda strode to the currently sleeping villip choir, a sweep for her fingers turning it to four dozen heads twisting to others in turn showing all three hundred and eighty Extolled aboard the Eversight

“We are not enough to set up a colony in exile…”  she paused considering

“Serving your People Ava…Milaea gives us focus and purpose for now…but….”

Milaea stepped behind her

“You need to follow your own path eventually…we already have the equatorial isles set aside for you, you can live there rather than ship, safe from the Chiss at least…”

eventually was the key word, whatever her compassion for the Extolled and desire to free them from their delusion that the Aethans were gods, Milaea could still not break the thumping instinctual  need to make sure she did everything she could to benefit the People first and foremost.

“…continue to work together, in healing and enhancing Aethas ecosystems, and learning and training together we will both benefit greatly…then perhaps in a few years you can look at trying to grow a new villip choir capable of communicating with main fleet…to Preach the new Path to them, or grow an new vessel, the Eversight won’t last for much longer I recall you saying…by then the Chiss may not even be defending Aethas anymore,”

Reeda nodded, it was a reasonable plan until she could get her thoughts and beliefs in her own mind clear…and work out a way to gently turn the Extolled away from their worship of the Aethans.

Turning back she faced Milaea not with the cowering of a mortal before a Goddess, but as an equal for the first time, back straight head held high.

“Agreed…but we must work out a way to communicate this… Tssaan Shai and the other shapers have been asking what of the eighth cortex…”

“It’s emptiness is a theological problem isn’t it?” Milaea deduced

“It is…all knowledge was said to be from the Gods, complete and intact in the qasha access given by the Overlord as the Gods representative…we’ve cast off the overlord and the qasha is empty…the Overlords power over the shapers was built on sand more than I suspected…when I found it empty I said something off hand, that it was closed until I was worthy….”

Milaea’s advanced cognition instantly struck upon a solution.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 5 — Avatars and Acolytes — Part 5

Good Works

The morning sun rose over the steaming humid jungle as three hundred and eighty Yuuzhan Vong stood upon the mulchy ground, on rocks, fallen logs – wherever there was room before the area was partially cleared.

For most it was the first time they had ever set foot on a terrestrial world, the sky above had loomed a troubling presence to those used to the finite ceilings of yorik coral.

“…This shall be our home, on the World of the Avatars while we work, learn, and heal our culture…” She nodded to Dur in the front row.

“…and this world,”

 Reeda’s voice carried conviction Milaea knew was not supported by her true beliefs.

They stood before the assembly, all the ‘Avatars’ flanking Reeda, Yhum and Tosh as they explained the new step in the True Path.

“We will help protect the Avatars home from the unbelievers in this Galaxy, teach them our ways in turn, uniting long disparate pieces of Yun-Yuuzhan…”

Reeda glanced to Tosh, who, with some insistence from Milaea and Lyaea, now accepted zealously the modifications their belief system, while this was the first time it would be said to the Extolled as a whole, they knew his preaching would be needed to seal it in coming months.

“For all species, regardless of origin are part of Yun-Yuzzhan’s creation, his blood and body forged by pain – we glory in the diversity of his creatures as they were made by him and seek to bring them into peace and accord – a body divided cannot stand!”

Murmurs and shock swept through the assembly, to include other species as ‘children of the Gods’ was a complete inversion of all the Priests on the Fleet had taught and implicit condemnation of ritual mutilation..

“The proof of this, declared by the Avatar of Yun’Ne’shel’s Avatar,” she waved toward Adaea co-opted for the occasion.

“That the eighth cortex of the Qasha, the divine knowledge, is withheld until the day all Yuzzhan Vong acknowledge the True PATH!”

Reeda drew on her past fierce belief to power her through words she did not truly believe, Milaea impressed at how convincing it was.

“We must find a way to communicate our revelations back to the main Fleet, so when they arrive they come not as invaders but pilgrims upon the True Path to this place where the Avatars of the Gods walk among us!”

There was a pause, and for a fatal moment Reeda feared the neat solution Milaea and she had forged to address their mutual issues might unravel…

“Tchurokk Yun'tchilat!” one shaper yelled

“Tchurokk Yun'tchilat!” another and another joined the chant, Yhum nearly deafening Reeda by joining in right beside her, Tosh following.

A sense of relief flooded Milaea at last, in many ways the status quo was maintained, though the Extolled now had a planet side home in exchange for their knowledge, biotech and labour, a focus outside serving their ‘Avatars’, and Milaea at least some hope if one could realize they were not divine the others might too in time.

And yet

Milaea’s gaze flitter across the three Extolled to Lyaea beside Tosh, a smile on her face seeming to patronize the fervent chants of the Extolled before her.

In the end she had done what she had berated Lyaea for, used the Aethan’s ‘divine authority’ through a troubled Reeda to achieve a result that made Milaea feel less morally uncomfortable…and still delivered the People what they wanted.

Lyaea quickly met her gaze with a winning grin. 

She had known Milaea would come round, she could not long deny her Goddess given Glory, and with each day Milaea bathed in the warm embrace of the Goddesses and community of the People more and more pesky Jedi morals washed away.

“Tchurokk Yun'tchilat!” the chant continued - 'Witness the Will of the Gods'

<<<<>>>>