by Aer-ki Jyr
“Planets may be abundant, but they are not replaceable,” the Zeeross ambassador objected. “The eradication of the Li’vorkrachnika may be necessary…I am not arguing it is not…but the destruction of planets is not something that can be undone.”
“It can be,” Davis countered. “We intend to mine those planets we are destroying, but we can reform them if we wish to devote the resources to it.”
“You have that technological ability?” the Haf ambassador asked.
“As do all of you. It is simply a matter of time and pushing the necessary matter into a descending orbit. Gravity will do the rest.”
“That would result in hellish worlds, unstable and uninhabitable.”
“How you push matters,” Davis said ambiguously.
“What of the wildlife?” the Zeeross asked.
Davis’s face went grim. “If you note, we’re only striking at worlds that are heavily industrialized and configured to be battlefields. What wildlife is there would mostly be destroyed during orbital bombardment during a conventional assault. If we choose not to assault the world the lizards will kill them anyway as they expand their infrastructure. They do not use living shields like the V’kit’no’sat did. They destroy everything that is not of use to them. Fortunately these worlds do not have slave populations, or we would not be destroying them, but rodents and insects get caught in the crossfire regardless of how careful we are. They die on a regular basis on Star Force worlds despite measures meant to protect them.”
“I understand,” the Yioj ambassador said firmly. “If you do not take out the Li’vorkrachnika quickly, the delay could see other worlds invaded by them. You are trading damage for a net smaller effect.”
“Partially. But we do not make sacrifices for net totals. The planetoids we are destroying are carefully chosen. If you bothered to examine them you would see a pattern.”
“All are airless save two,” the Zeeross replied, indicating that someone was examining them closely. “And those two had no native populations or wildlife. It is the planets themselves that I am concerned with. Destroying them is reckless and shortsighted.”
“There are some wildlife, in small amounts scratching out an existence on those worlds. If we attack via orbital bombardment they are going to die from it. We do not like this, but the galaxy is a messy place. If you walk through a forest you may be killing dozens of critters in the dirt you step on. That’s why we build sidewalks, but still ants will crawl on top and be crushed. We will never intentionally target them, but if they get in the way, sometimes you just have to keep going. How much do you tolerate? That’s a question I constantly ask myself, and not just when destroying planets. When we bombard one deaths occur beyond just the lizards. The ants get killed then too.”
“For someone concerned about insignificant ants, I find your logic puzzling,” the Yioj noted.
“Because the logic is calculated along the lines of doing the right thing, and you do not have the math skills for it. But since you and everyone else here do not care about the fate of ants, let’s get to the crux of the matter. You don’t like us erasing geography.”
“That is the main point of the issue,” the Zeeross confirmed.
“If the situation was reversed, I’d be concerned as well,” Davis admitted. “But I’m not you. I’m better than you. And my judgement can be relied on. We will continue to eliminate select planets rather than suffer the naval losses to capture them. Either way, the lizards will die, but we are able to move on quicker to the next target and that can, as noted earlier, spare other planets about to fall into the grasp of the lizards.”
“You are better?” the Knight of Quenar asked, visibly offended.
“Yes, and I’m not shy about saying so. I have long record of evidence available for study, so I’m not making this claim blindly. You know I am, though your egos might not let you admit it. The reason I am talking to you now is because you are reasonable, but none of you are on my level. You would kill a small race to save a large one, because it would be a net gain. I would not, because it is the wrong thing to do. You do not understand why, and I could explain the intricacies of such applications in detail, but if you cannot grasp the concept of ‘the right thing’ the explanations would be pointless.”
“My experience,” Davis continued, “with various races has showed me that everyone…even the tiny ants…have an internal mechanism designed to point them in the direction of the right thing. They might not always end up there, but there is a subtle guidance that occasionally hammers you on the head. Some seek this out, others don’t care, and still others spite it. But it is there and I am in tune with it far more than any of you, and those around me are brought into alignment because of me and the effects spreads throughout our empire. It’s like a resonance that tells observers the status of your civilization. And your civilizations are not of such high resonance. In fact, they’re not even close.”
“Which is why we trust you with the Uriti,” the Knight of Quenar reminded the Director. “Your survival of the V’kit’no’sat and ability to turn their war of eradication into an armistice proves your cunning and wisdom. But you do not see everything, and in trying to do the right thing on a small scale you end up inviting devastation on a large one.”
“That has been my fear on many occasions,” the Human said. “But at the end of the day, death is preferable to dishonor.”
“I do not agree,” the Yioj said, “but however you run your empire internally, it is successful. The issue here is the removal of planets rather than removing their inhabitants. I do not believe you would ever do so against us, but when an empire can destroy the ground on which hundreds of empires existed over the ages, it is a crime against the galaxy itself. Natural formation of planets is slow, and we have never detected the emergence of life itself, so without an apparent source of replacement, what currently is must be preserved, for we do not know how they factor into the fabric of the galaxy.”
“Your caution is noted, but the truth is you just don’t like us having this power when you do not.”
“No, I don’t,” the Zeeross said bluntly. “How large of a planet can you destroy?”
“And how exactly are you doing it?” the Haf asked.
“The latter question I will not answer,” Davis said with an apologetic look. “I wouldn’t want any of you to have this ability, so I’m not giving you any hints. As to the first, it depends on the structure of the planet, but in some cases planetoids up to 2.4 gravity.”
The revelation silenced the room until the Knight of Quenar finally responded. “And what of stars?”
“No. Not that we’re aware of.”
“This is an abomination,” the Yioj swore, adding a few non-english words in the mix. “You can destroy any world you wish merely by getting the Uriti inside it? This cannot be tolerated. Once you finish destroying the Li’vorkrachnika, the Uriti must be killed…”
“No,” Davis said firmly, echoing the word telepathically like a hammer. “We do not fear power, and we will not kill those with it simply because they are powerful. And if you should attempt to do so, you will incur our wrath, so don’t try it.”
“The Hadarak also probably have this ability,” the Knight of Quenar speculated. “We’ve seen evidence of them tearing up planets, though they usually keep them intact while feeding on them. But if the Uriti can choose to completely destroy one, I would wager the Hadarak can too. Do you suggest we aid the V’kit’no’sat in destroying them as well? Or are they too far away to be an abomination?”
“How can you tolerate this power in their control?”
“It is more than we expected, but the Uriti are far more powerful than you ever guessed. We knew much of their power, so this new revelation isn’t so shocking. We have determined that Star Force is a neutral force that can be used to contain the Uriti. We have found no other, and any attempt to destroy the Uriti would be extremely difficult, if not impossible. I would greatly prefer them dead, but second to that
we are content with them being in Star Force’s possession. Their choice to use them to destroy Li’vorkrachnika worlds we are not in agreement with.”
“Why not?” Davis asked.
“We are pragmatic, so the loss of a few worlds is of no consequence to us…but to them it is,” the Knight of Quenar said, pointing to the others. “The fear you strike in them will be shared by the rest of the galaxy. The ability to destroy planets is something they cannot tolerate, for it is even greater than what the Uriti were used for previously. Even the Chixzon did not make this mistake. They wanted to use fear as coercion. This…is something far more terrifying. They can remake the landscape of the galaxy, and that is something not seen before. As this spreads, and more people witness what you are doing, there will be a growing backlash.”
“And you think we should promise not to do so anymore and let this slowly fade away into legend?”
“You never should have done so, but now that you have, it is the only hope you have.”
“Hope to avoid what?” Davis asked as the others’ body language indicated they had become spectators in this spat between the normally two homogenous allies.
“Fear warps minds, and can induce stupidity. You could see it turning them all against you, despite the benefits you grant them and the galaxy. The Rim Consortium could even ally with the V’kit’no’sat against you.”
Davis glanced at the others carefully. “Is that your read…or your worry?”
“We have seen the effects of fear before. It turned a galaxy against the Uriti once. This could do so again.”
“The Chixzon were killing people with them,” Davis pointed out.
“So are you,” the Yioj added.
“People that did not attack them first,” the Director amended. “Our war against the lizards is defensive, despite a lull in the fighting.”
“You are not seeing the full implications,” the Knight of Quenar warned out of concern rather than threat. “They used the leverage of force, as you now do. For different reasons, but to those who only see power and dominion, there is little difference, and those differences will be washed away by the destruction of worlds themselves, rather than merely their inhabitants. It is a level of outrage we have never seen before, and it could be your undoing.”
“Your counsel is noted, and welcome,” Davis said, crossing his fingers in front of him as he rested his elbows on the table near the force field lines that separated him from his guests. “But this is my play to make, and there is one factor you’re not considering.”
“What is it?”
“The influence of the lightside. As you said, you are pragmatic. Your grasp of doing the right thing is limited, and because of that you underestimate its power. I will be able to control this, and I’m not referring to the Uriti, but to the backlash you’re predicting once word spreads around the galaxy. It will not become the quest you once fought in. There may be some bumps along the way, but I will stabilize it.”
“You speak as if we are not in the room with you,” the Zeeross said indignantly.
“If you wish to declare war on us, then do so and leave,” Davis said firmly. “If not, do not waste my time with threats you are unwilling to back up. The Uriti are not our possession, they are our allies. They have agreed to fight with us, and we are doing the galaxy a great service as an intermediary. They are so large and foreign to our type of life that they care nothing of it…until now. They care a little, because of us, and the relationship we have forged. None of you did, none of you could, but we did and we are growing that relationship. We are what allows the Uriti and the ‘little people’ to coexist. That’s what they refer to us as, little people. And if the Hadarak ever get this far out into the galaxy, you’re going to be damned welcome we bothered to keep the Uriti around.”
“Is that a legitimate threat?” the Haf asked.
“The Hadarak stay in the Core because they choose to do so. The V’kit’no’sat have compressed them in further, but the Hadarak mostly ignore them. The power they possess is clustered in the deep Core like a ticking time bomb. I do not know what it will take to bring them out, but their ability to do so worries me,” he emphasized. “And in a potential battle between little people and big ones, I want some big ones on our side. Don’t you?”
“Is there something you know that we do not?” the Yioj asked.
“A great many things, but more than anything, I think far, far ahead of the present. Farther than any of you do. Star Force does not fear power, but we are wary of it, and the greatest power known in this galaxy is not the V’kit’no’sat. It is the Hadarak. And they cannot be negotiated with.”
“In the meantime, you will face a more imminent threat from those that fear the Uriti,” the Knight of Quenar warned.
“I know. But while dominance has its perks, it also has its responsibilities. This one is mine, and I will attend to it in a fashion of my choosing…and that fashion is not to hide away the power of the Uriti when that power can be used to eliminate a scourge on the galaxy. And beyond that there is nothing more to say. I know what I’m doing and will not veer from the course because of complaints or fear. I will only alter it if there is something concrete to justify it. Is there anything else that any of you wish to inform me of?”
“Your disrespect is insulting,” the Yioj all but spat.
“Your lack of wisdom is annoying,” Davis countered. “Leave.”
The Yioj climbed up off its chair on its tentacles and slithered out of the room, leaving the other four ambassadors behind.
“Is there a threat of this ability to destroy worlds being stolen from you?” the Haf asked.
“Replicating it via technology is extremely unlikely,” Davis said, glad to have an intelligent question asked. “And taking the Uriti away from us is equally as unlikely.”
“You are confident of that?”
“I am.”
“Unless you destroy a world beyond Li’vorkrachnika territory, you will continue to have our support. Fear of power is a sign of inferiority, and the Haf are not inferior, but we are wary. While Star Force may not be a threat to us, others are, and we do not want them to obtain even a fraction of this power. That is our concern.”
“Noted.”
“This will change the balance in the galaxy,” the Lovipe ambassador said, finally breaking its silence. “How I do not know, but things will no longer be the same.”
“I agree,” Davis added. “And I intend to make it a beneficial change.”
“How so?”
“Those that know me and my empire well will not fear us, but outsiders who consider attacking Star Force will see the destruction of the lizards and fear us doing the same to them. And rather than that prompting them to attack, they will cower. That cowering will allow us more flexibility and the ability to shield others with a simple, unspoken threat. That is leverage I can use to great effect in areas where response times are slow. Fear covers all places, whereas fleets cannot.”
“Spoken like a Chixzon,” the Knight of Quenar pointed out.
“No, not like a Chixzon. A Chixzon would have already poisoned you to death and left the room to start working on their next target.”
8
June 29, 4936
Ennit System (Dagran Region)
Vis
Lara stopped swimming when she felt it again, floating with a small drift forward as she lay face-down in the water. Oxygen wasn’t an issue, for she had both Hanme, which was a backup supply of oxygen nodules throughout her body, and Lovo’nek, a tier 4 psionic that allowed her to breathe oxygen from the water directly through her skin. It wasn’t as good as getting it directly from the air, but it meant she couldn’t drown even if she got water into her lugs.
So Lara held still as the cool sensation hit her. This had happened 8 times before, and each time she’d reached for the sensation inside her it had disappeared. She wasn’t reaching this time, just trying to let whatever it was happen and soak in a little more before i
t disappeared again…except this time it didn’t.
It seemed to pool in the back of her mind, enough that she risked moving as she sank down to the bottom of the shallow swimming pool and knelt on both knees, sitting on her ankles and getting her head upright as she went into a Qui-gon-esk meditative pose. That didn’t shake the feeling free, so she held there and just let the sensation sit there.
It was hard, because it felt like an itch that demanded scratching, but every time she instinctively acted on it the Archon overrode the urge and forced herself to remain still, physically and mentally. It kept fighting her, but the more time she had to override it the easier it got, and the longer the sensation remained the more it seemed to be bleeding out into the rest of her.
Lara wasn’t sure what it was, and neither did Vortison, for none of the equipment had been able to identify what it was, but each time it happened her hyperactive state appeared to improve momentarily. She was still a long way away from getting it stabilized enough for her not to need treatments, but she was no longer Human, in that she couldn’t sit in a chair and do nothing without it damaging her. She was very high strung now, and the basic activity required to feed her need was mild compared to what Archons normally did on a daily basis, but it was totally alien to the basic Human civilian.
Laziness had always been an option for the Archons, one that they would never use. But now Lara didn’t have that choice. It had been stripped away from her biologically, which she was fine with. That was the entire point of this transition, but this moment of mediation was needed and thankfully Lara had been doing enough in the way of workouts to buy her a little quiet time before her body began screaming at her.
And in her moment of calmness the unidentified sensation continued to creep outward, taunting her to try and control it, but she knew it would disappear if she did, and the more she waited the more it eeked its way out into her appendages. It had been in the nothingness of her mental state, but now it was having a physical affect as her arms, legs, and torso burned…but it was a soothing burn, equivalent to someone pulling a thorn out of your leg. It hurt, but it was a vast improvement to leaving it in.