by Greg Laurel
Landing on Caren’Das after a several-hour warp, during which he configured the internal layout of The Aura Runner, Miles met with Exemplar Kendro-Dalinor, who was accompanied by a pair of bodyguards.
“Radien, your battle on Hulae is well-known already, and the Haji-Son recognize you as a worthy ally of our people. Which is why I’ve called upon you to help with a matter here on Caren’Das.”
“Your people honor me with such a title as ‘worthy ally’,” Miles said, bowing his head slightly. “What do you need?”
Kendro-Dalinor escorted Miles to his home, where they discussed an apparent cache of information of great historical significance.
“It was recently revealed that this info-cache existed. We’re not sure where exactly, but we know it’s on the ruined world of Alabasteron. The information concerns the actions of the Hajivakk people during the Sentience War of the Fifth Cosmic Era,” Kendro-Dalinor explained over a holographic map of the titular ruin.
“I feel like I should know what most of those words meant.”
“Fair enough. The entirety of the Fifth Cosmic Era was spent fighting the single bloodiest war in all of time, the Sentience War. Far deadlier than the Demon War long before, tens of trillions of lives were lost during this blood era, and that’s an optimistic number. It was fought not between races or peoples, but two ideals answering a single question: ‘Can a mechanical species gain sentience?’ The Ascendant people had just begun to make themselves known, and the Shard, the race that produced them had zero intent on their recognition, even changing the standard by which sentience is recognized intergalactically to assure it. The war ended on Prismos, when the last of the Shard people made their self-absorbed stand, refusing to admit that their mechanical slaves had learned how to feel, and how to think. Prismos was destroyed, and the Shard became extinct. But the neighboring planet, Alabasteron, became known as the Graveworld after so many battles had been fought there. It was the hub of the military power of the Shard’s allies, who agreed with their most vile intolerance of the new species. However, most of the Hajivakk people’s involvement in the war had been forgotten by us, until we picked up this ancient signal.”
Kendro-Dalinor pressed a button, showing that a transmission was indeed being broadcasted.
“It’s the frequency our ancestors used to hide these sorts of ‘information arks’ for a given amount of time. Someone programmed that cache, billions of years ago, to transmit on this day that the information was here: The Haji-Son account of the Sentience War.”
“So, what stops everyone from going down there to grab it?” Miles asked.
“So much hate and anger flowed with the blood that spilled on Alabasteron, that the people who fell cannot seem to cease fighting their battle, even beyond death. Their ancient skeletons still remain, constantly warring with each other, and never finally dying. No one wants to risk going there. Not against a foe you can’t kill.”
“And why does that mean I have to go down there?”
“You’re on the outside. Your species wasn’t even single-celled back then, they may hear you out that you are just passing through, and have no desire to get involved.”
Miles nodded, making sense of the plan. “Very well. I’ll head there, and convince the skeletons to let me have that infocache.”
Kendro-Dalinor thanked him, and Miles set the course of The Aura Runner to Alabasteron. Upon entering orbit near one of the rusty cities, he could see that a few hundred miles away, the ancient battle was still being fought, lasers and bullets flying and meeting their mark, but never getting the job done. Miles climbed out of The Aura Runner, having landed it just out of eyeshot of the city, then hiding it with a Temporal Displacement, which desynchronized the ship from the rest of the timeline by a single second, effectively hiding the craft one second in the future.
Miles made his way up to the gate of this city, which despite its decrepit look, was a solidly fortified base. Several skeletons of precursor races eyed him, just as resolutely guarding as they had in life.
“Your business here?” one asked, somehow managing to form a voice from only bones.
“I need to speak to the General, or someone close to that. There’s something not far from here I need to pick up, and it’s in hot territory.”
One nodded to the other, and the gate opened enough for Miles to enter. “Look for the Gilded Fragment Inn. He’ll be there.”
Miles made his way through, cautiously as he could without looking suspicious, despite being unsure how he could look suspicious to skeletons of people he couldn’t even figure what species they used to be.
Finding the Gilded Fragment, Miles walked in and looked for the leader the guards said would be here. Eventually, he sat down next to him at a table.
“My men outside say you’re looking for something in hot territory,” he started.
“Aye, an information ark at this location.” Miles grabbed his scanner, showing the general where the Hajivakk’s prize was located.
“Hot territory indeed. I’m not sure how large an escort I can spare.”
“I don’t need an escort as much as a couple scouts to act as another few sets of eyes, making sure I won’t encounter any resistance along the route.”
The General nodded, agreeing to lend three scouts to watch the path. Before Miles could even question the strangely cooperative nature of the people he was dealing with, the door to the inn flung open, revealing several skeletal soldiers toting automatic weapons of some make.
“Oh shit, it’s Bones Malone and the Spook Troop!” a patron said from afar.
“RATTLE ‘EM, BOYS!” the center man shouted, and opened fire. Miles hit the deck, kicking over one of the tables for cover. Then he realized that tables make for shitty cover, but at least he was out of sight. Bullets were flying, and so were the bones of patrons and staff, the General even was caught in the crossfire. Soon, the mangled remains of a bar full of skeletons were all that was left for Miles to behold, before something incredible happened.
The fallen began to reassemble themselves, crunching and cracking back into place, even healing their own fractures. Some started laughing once it was done, and even the assailants weren’t immune. Miles poked his head out from behind his table, confused as all hell, and everyone was congratulating each other on a job well done.
“You are owed an explanation for sure,” the General said as he popped his own bony arm back into his shoulder. “Follow me.”
After entering a back room with some charts and maps, Miles got his explanation.
“Long ago, there were a great number of awful battles that happened on this world due to what we came to know as the Sentience War. We all fought and killed each other. But we wouldn’t rest. So many emotions, so much passion, and hate, and anger with what we did and what we stood for… death couldn’t keep us from our desire to fight. We thought it was a one-off for a while, and took the miracle as it looked. But we all eventually figured it out: For some reason, we just can’t die. But by the time we all knew it and calmed the hell down with what we were fighting over, the universe had moved on, and called Alabasteron a cursed world.”
“Why are you still fighting then?”
The General laughed. “We’re honestly not, but it sure looks like we are. Now it’s just a huge joke, one we have to keep up to fool the rest of the universe. So from a distance and a quick glance, it looks like we’re still trying to win a war won billions of years ago, but take a closer look and that ridiculous shit a few minutes back is just the tip of the iceberg on how much irony bleeds from what we do to keep the charade up. Planet of the Ridiculous Shenanigans, that’s what Alabasteron has become.”
Miles stood there, piecing it together.
“The guy who shouted before they opened fire? He’d been practicing that line for weeks. It was planned, staged, all of it. That’s why I could give you those scouts. I’d then immediately call the guys in that area to back off of it for a bit. They’d do it, and find some other ins
ane comedy act to figure out next.”
“So why remain on Alabasteron?”
“The universe fought the bloodiest war in history over whether or not a machine could feel feelings. Can you imagine the shitshow that would be if that question became ‘can the dead feel feelings’?”
Miles agreed quickly. “Regardless, I still need that Hajivakk information ark.”
“Not a problem, just as long as you keep this between us. The rest of the worlds have no need to know that we’re as we are now, and honestly? We haven’t gotten bored enough yet to try our luck on it.”
Eventually shaking off the absurdity, Miles took The Aura Runner to the Hajivakk information ark, and opened it. Both electronic records and physical writings of the species’s involvement in the Sentience War, that the Skeletons of Alabasteron had made into such an enormous joke to save face. While on his way back to Caren’Das, Miles studied the records. Apparently, the Haji-Son at the time were one of a couple races that were quick to act against the Shard when they showed their oppressive colors, but they were single most eager. They had known of the Shard’s evil for some time, but hadn’t the resources to act. As soon as the Vulpians and Redarians at the time made their stance clear, the Hajivakk soon followed, and couldn’t wait to stomp some space racists. At least, more so than the others involved.
“Your people will be pleased to know that the Haji-Son were eager to fight the Shard’s oppression of the Ascendant species,” Miles explained when he returned to Exemplar Kendro-Dalinor.
“I must admit, I was worried for a while that we had sided with the Shard for an amount of time during the conflict. I’m glad to have been proven wrong of that worry.”
“I know what you mean,” Miles empathized. “You go looking for information, only to find out it’s not the kind you hoped to see, and then you go into a hell of a funk trying to shake off the fact that once indeed, you or people not far from you did the abominable.”
A moment passed as Kendro-Dalinor eyed Miles, as if that were too specific of an example to be anything short of a confession.
“But it is one of the few times where one is relieved to be proven wrong,” Miles finished.
“Indeed. I trust the restless souls on Alabasteron did not give you too much trouble?”
This was the part where Miles needed to lie. Or hopefully only have to omit the truth.
“It went well, yes. I was able to call myself unaffiliated, and get the information ark without incident.”
“They still fight?”
“They still fight.”
Thankfully, Kendro-Dalinor did not ask how they fought, or anything else for that matter. Although Miles had gotten some ideas for comedy routines out of what the skeletons of Alabasteron did to ‘fight’ each other.
Chapter the Fourteenth
How long had it actually been since Miles gained his power? This was the question on his mind when the Conclave of Sentience on Turazin contacted him, stating that the humans of Earth had finally figured out where the rest of the universe was hiding. With progress inspired by Miles’s battle with Avanchenvaldr, the humans had contacted a Loriken ship passing by the solar system, and now Miles had to testify. He was the catalyst between the people of Earth, and the rest of the peoples in the communicable universe. Miles made his way to Turazin, and waited in the Conclave chambers for the proceeding to follow.
“Did they actually manage to elect a single representative for themselves?” Miles asked, to the nods of a few Conclave members. “I am genuinely surprised.”
The door behind him opened, and a man in his mid thirties stepped to the podium next to Miles’s designated spot.
“Surely they told you why I’m here, right?” Miles asked.
“Yes, I’ve been informed. Conrad Stonewall, by the way.”
“Miles Radien.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone on Earth who doesn’t know your name by now.”
Another surprise for Miles, and the meeting began.
“It should be known by all parties that this should not be interpreted as interrogation, or necessarily a test. This is for the purpose of learning as much as possible, the best way to get about this, and future proceedings,” Xenidar said. He was the neutral party to ask the questions of Conrad, representing the humans.
“Per prior statement and evidence supplied by Miles Radien, the Humans of Earth have already demonstrated themselves as sentient creatures under The Pillars Three. The Conclave does not question whether or not Humans are sentient. It is already confirmed,” Xenidar stated
Conrad nodded, and Xenidar continued. “The Conclave’s first question to the Human representative: Given that the history of your species is known, we do observe that amongst yourselves you have engaged in warfaring methods recognized as morally forbidden and absolutely illegal. These methods mostly are non-discriminatory weapons, such as atomic radiation, vaporous substances, and the use of non-sentient single cell organisms.”
“Basically nuclear, gases, and bio-weapons. Stuff you can’t point at someone,” Miles explained to Conrad, who nodded.
“In order for the Conclave to accept the Humans into the intergalactic community, and for us to aid the peoples of Earth in their technologies and progresses, the Humans must totally renounce the aforementioned methods of warfare. It is understood by the Conclave that combat is sometimes the only option, but there is a difference between combat and depravity.”
Conrad looked over at Miles, as if he wanted to make sure he was interpreting things correctly. “Total nuclear disarmament, and agreeing to never use nukes, gas, or biological warfare again as weapons.”
“I’m afraid I can only speak for myself when I say I am absolutely in favor of the Conclave’s policies, but I worry what will happen when some of the less than moral types on Earth inevitably resist this,” Conrad said to the Conclave.
“Do explain,” a Taigron requested.
“Humans are, unfortunately, a heavily divisible race. I fear that some people on Earth will see the disarmament you want as a sign of weakness on their part, and will inevitably do something completely stupid. I truly do not care what would happen to them personally at that point, but my worry instead is for everyone else who may be judged alongside them for association.”
“These are my thoughts as well, it should be known,” Miles added. “I’ve little doubt that there will be humans who both want nothing more than to abide by the Conclave’s wishes, and others who will see this as an insult. I hope that some kind of accord can be reached that allows the humans who do want what the Conclave wants, can be allowed into the universe, as it were.”
“And what do you propose be done about the humans who would cling to their abominable weapons?” a familiar Hykentiu asked. It was Dorg.
“They have to remain on Earth until they quit throwing temper tantrums, I’d imagine.”
Conrad nodded at this, clearly this was a better idea than he had initially.
“Radien, you are likely the person the Conclave trusts the most on this matter, so this decision falls to you. Should the Humans be allowed into the community that is this grand universe?” Xenidar said. The Conclave’s members were unsure of themselves in regards to the Humans, given that Miles was the only one they knew, whose opinion of them was mixed, to say the least.
Miles thought to himself for a moment. It felt like a long moment, but it likely wasn’t.
“By the guidelines I have suggested, yes. The individual humans who agree by the Conclave’s requirements should be granted all the rights of recognized species. The rest stay on Earth until they mature, so to speak. I ask that a planet that can support humans be designated for them to settle on, and that the Conclave allocate as much resources as necessary to make this work right. If my battle with Avanchenvaldr did make a difference, I’m willing to take this chance.”
Miles looked to Conrad, who nodded.
“It is settled then. As many ships as needed, with as much supply as comfortable
will be used to aid in this process and ensure that it is done both correctly, and speedily. We have already found a planet that is habitable by human standards, and currently is uncolonized.”
Conrad seemed surprised by this until Miles explained. “They’ve actually got a database of planets that have been set aside for the purpose of giving them to newly recognized species.”
“That’s incredible!” Conrad said. “I promise you, Conclave, we will not forget this graciousness! On my life, I will make sure we don’t let you down!”
“Then the meeting is adjourned,” Xenidar stated, and Conrad left excitedly. Miles waited until the doors closed behind him to speak.
“I know that’s a big promise from him, but don’t hold either him or the Humans as a whole to it as hard as you might for me. You’re going to be giving a lot of people a second chance, or rather, a first chance that they never got for the longest time. There’s gonna be people with choices and options they didn’t even know were capable of existing. It’s gonna be rough for the first while, and I don’t mean rough as in bad… I mean more as in… tentative. Confusing. Like baby steps.”
“Yeah, I getcha,” Xenidar said, back in his regular informal upbeat. “This isn’t the first time the Conclave has had a ‘trouble race’ to help out. They know what they’re doing. Trust me if not them on that.”
When Miles returned to his home on Cynofrax, he made himself some beef soup. Or rather, the local beef equivalent soup. But what he did next was to turn most of the lights in the house off, leaving only the night sky outside and a dimmed light from the next room over as the light sources. He then proceeded to eat that soup in the darkness, and he felt a euphoria he couldn’t quite give a name to, but it certainly was good. To eat soup alone, in the darkness of a large, empty house.
A knock on his door ended the aloofness of the matter. Veralis had arrived with some of her stuff, given that she was moving in. She was a little confused at the scene that she had interrupted.