《Ignition Broker : A Split Time [Space Opera] [Adventure] [Fantasy]》 Prelude Prelude There was an odd tension between the duo. At a glance one of the two appeared to be a highly touted doctor, with the medical lab coat, glasses, well kept hair and even stylized shoes built for comfort, he was what one would assume to be a typical doctor. One who despite his seemingly advanced age still looked fit, unlike most doctors who made it to his age. By contrast, his lab assistant clearly looked younger, while there were enough similarities in the face to notice a similarity, they were only noted if one stared for long enough. The reason being is that the female had the distinct features of a Cerusian. Even the hair dye used seemed to be showing through, removing the dark jet black that even the doctor supported, and showed a nearly glowing silver sheen for half the hair. At least at the roots. The doctor just had to look down to see that the roots were already showing, despite himself having applied the chemical dye not two hours ago. Looking at the partial hair color that was so endemic of the Cerusian people, he couldn¡¯t help but think back to the moment he began this whole operation. ¡°I think this is our last one,¡± the Doctor said, or at least the person appearing to be the doctor said. The shorter lab assistant just looked up with two bright blue eyes, to lock gazes with the doctor. Just seeing those eyes caused a moment of shock to fill the doctor¡¯s soul, for he remembered falling in love with a pair of those same eyes not two decades ago. Fortunately for the girl, her eyes were not as ice blue as the ones the doctor first fell in love with. ¡°We already have enough money for you to get accepted into the Military Academy in Maralla and have all years paid off even through a doctorate program.¡± The Doctor stated. For her part the girl just stared stoically at the man. Then as if trying to segway past the awkward moment, the man continued, ¡°you know what that means right?¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°That upon graduation I will be a full citizen of the Federation, regardless of my ancestry.¡± The technician said, her voice speaking slightly cold, but that was just the way of her ancestors. That was part of why they were so shunned by the rest of the universe, in that many failed to see them as anything more than uncaring automatons, instead, they just hid their feelings closer to their chests. ¡°Correct, in fact it is already set up. Regardless of whatever happens here, know that my one wish is for you to be accepted by the Federation, and with having a Doctorate, no one can deny you a job or state you are underqualified. Though they might push you to the front lines to fight directly against the Harbingers.¡± The doctor said, his voice trying to sound reassuring. ¡°This is because I was not accepted into the tribe?¡± The Technician asked. ¡°Yes, had you been accepted into the tribe, then you and I would have split the proceeds that we gained thus far, and I would have gone on my way.¡± The Doctor stated, his voice mostly joking but it was clear that there was a lot of truth to those words. ¡°So now the reason we are doing this one is for you?¡± The Technician asked. With that the doctor just awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. ¡°Yeah, with you at the Military Academy, I will need just a bit of funds to get to the next town and hopefully be able to retire,¡± the doctor stated, though it was clear that his tone was a bit strained. The technician seeing the man¡¯s reaction just asked honestly, ¡°you don¡¯t trust this one?¡± At that the Doctor paused, and held still for a moment. It was clear that he was fighting his basic impulse to lie, but for this technician he paused and then letting out a breath he answered truthfully. ¡°No I don¡¯t,¡± the man answered honestly. ¡°Then why do it? Why not just leave?¡± The girl asked. At that the doctor just paused and let a smile come to his lips, ¡°one of these days, I hope you realize that answer on your own. I also hope you don¡¯t have to find out that answer the same way I did.¡± Then switching subjects quickly, the doctor looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist, though he and the technician both knew that he sold his galactic time interface two cycles back to book passage on an overfilled transport freighter heading to Myaldra. ¡°Oh look at that, almost time. Now tell me what you do should things go sideways?¡± The doctor asked unconvincingly. Fortunately for him the technician did not press. ¡°My goal is to be the first one out, get to the safe, take my passport along with any and all valuables and meet you at the extraction point.¡± ¡°And if I don¡¯t get to the extraction point in time?¡± ¡°I am to go on with or without you and meet up at destination point Bravo.¡± ¡°And if I am not there?¡± At that the Technician paused as she looked into the doctor¡¯s eyes, and that is when she saw the truth written in his eyes. ¡°You¡­ you aren¡¯t going to be there¡­¡± She said, her normally stoic face quivering slightly as she saw the truth in his gaze. Then as if uncontrollable, she began to quiver her lower lip as she realized this was his plan all along. ¡°Hey, stop that, we both have our jobs to do here, it¡¯s just that we should probably say goodbye before this operation begins. Now what do you do if I am not there!¡± The doctor demanded, his own face and stern expression about to crack as he realized this was what he had planned for, a clean break, so she could succeed. With that, it was enough for the technician to pause for a second before nodding her head and once again letting her cold emotionless mask take over her body as she was suddenly back in character. ¡°I am to proceed to the next objective and finish assimilating into society.¡± ¡°And where is the next objective?¡± ¡°The next objective is the Military Academy in Maralla, where I am to get a doctorate.¡± The technician stated. At that the Doctor smiled brightly, and clasped the technician on her shoulder, ¡°good girl. Now you know the routine?¡± With that the Technician just nodded her head. ¡°Okay, go back and prep the chamber, and I will bring in the next subject.¡± And like that the operation was underway. Chapter 1 All Part of The Show Chapter 1 All Part of The Show Tension. Indescribable sensations filtered in and around Arla¡¯s mind. This was a con, which inherently meant there would be risks. Thus, all the needs for escape plans, and back up rally points and meeting locations. Still, despite everything, this job seemed to be different. Perhaps it was knowing that this would be the last time the duo did a job together. There was also the fact that despite protestations to the contrary, the goal the two had always set out for themselves had fully vested and matured. The goal was always to get enough money to pay admission to one of the galactic military institutes, where upon graduation regardless of genetic or familial limitations, the graduating candidate would be considered a full ranking citizen of the Federation. This was the only recourse left to the two, for while Arla had passed the tests provided to become a Cerusian tribe member, she had ultimately been voted out. Meaning, that despite learning the old tongue, reading the sacred verses in all eight magical colorations, and knowing the different letters from the before, she was found unworthy of being accepted into the tribe. The testers even went so far as to claim she cheated. That was it, no trial, no further tests. Just the fact that an outsider could read, write, and depict the language of the people perfectly meant she was cheating. After that, the testers all got up, to deliberate. While they did, they scribbled a hastily written note that stated as much, and only delivered the message via interplanetary messaging relays as their vessel exited orbit. Rather than being angry about it all, Marcon, her protector just looked at the note and read and then reread the note. Until finally he nodded to himself and came up with a way to do better. ¡°You know what we did wrong kid,¡± Marcon began, grabbing Arla by the shoulder and pulling her tight to his side. This was more for him, as he was always a touchy person, but Arla learned to accept these minor intrusions into her personal boundaries, particularly with how it seemed to relax Marcon afterwards. Arla for her part just shook her head no. ¡°We did it too perfectly. You were too good to be true, which was why the act fell through.¡± ¡°Act?¡± Arla asked. ¡°Yeah, this was all one big dog and pony show from the start. All the pomp, testing and circumstances, everything. All a play, and we failed this time.¡± ¡°But I did as asked.¡± ¡°I know kid, trust me I know. You probably did so well that you made all those testers feel inferior to the fact that an outsider likely did better than they did, or even better than they could do now.¡± Marcon stated, a note of resolve filling his voice. ¡°Okay, what do we do now?¡± Arla asked. Pausing for a moment Marcon just looked around. Then after pausing for a moment, as always he came up with a plan. ¡°We dummy it down.¡± ¡°What do we dummy down?¡± Arla asked confused. ¡°Everything. Everything from how you interact with the world, to how much you show working, to how much you do. We dummy everything down. Make it look like it wasn¡¯t all you. Make it look like the answer came from a source that others could understand and quantify. We need to make you look like you are just an instrument that is part of the end product, and not just the end product itself.¡± From that point on, Marcon taught Arla everything he learned about being a third-rate street magician. While he had never succeeded as a magician, not when real magic existed in the universe, he did learn about the art of misdirection. It was that same logic that Marcon now implemented with these black-market awakenings. During these, Marcon always took point. He was always the focal point for the operations, mainly due to the fact that he was always lying throughout the process that when he needed to react and change script it was harder for most lie detectors to notice the shift in tones. Whereas Arla was not flashy enough for the product that they were selling, at least not at the prices that were being noted.
1,120.
That was the number of ignitions that Arla had performed so far in her lifetime. How did she know this, did she remember each individual one? Well yes she did, but the real reason was that her tracker showed her the number of still active awakened she interacted with. How was this possible? Simple the system, the same program that her own tribe members found to be a clear death sentence to joining the Tribe was now alive and active within her body. Better still, her primary power allowed her to record the number of times she used her power.
Soul Power [Permanent Support]: Ignite (S) Can ignite one true potential power, up to Ignite ranking, of anyone the user has formed a willingly symbiotic relationship with.
Number of Active Symbiotic Relationships Active: 893 / 1,120
. While she had gotten the power after her own tribe members dismissed her, the power and process of obtaining it was a challenge. ¡°By going through with this, you will forever cut ties with the Tribe, meaning you will never be accepted even if we prove you didn¡¯t cheat. Are you okay with this?¡± Arla remembered Marcon asking right before she entered the awakening trials. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Arla stated and meant it, as the Tribe had turned its back on her. With the Tribe out, the only way forward was to be accepted into the Federation, and the first part of that was having an awakened power. The only problem was her power sucked. ¡°S-Ranked, of course you would get S-Ranked in a non-combat throw away power that could only be used once, and only in a beneficial manner.¡± Marcon stated, then with a pause, he looked at Arla and for a moment she saw his pain. She saw how this knowledge of a blessed bad offering tore at him. Finally, he spoke, ¡°give me a second. Just stay here, I¡¯ll be right back.¡± With that Marcon, proceeded to walk forward, making sure to gently tap her shoulder as he left. Arla watched as Marcon, the only person she truly trusted completely in the whole universe left her side and went off into an open field. This was as far as he would ever leave Arla, and Arla knew that this was his way of saying he needed space. That he was not to be judged by what was said or stated after this, but she could ask questions. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As soon as Marcon got to the open field, he let out a bone curdling, ¡°FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKKKKKK!!!¡± After he proceeded to drop to his knees and pound the ground in frustration, slamming his fists down violently. ¡°Why, her! Punish me you cheap bastards! Why punish her for my mistakes!¡± It went on like this for almost a full minute. Then finally, Marcon seemed to come to a realization. Almost like a switch had been flipped in his mind, he got up, and with a look of pure determination and rage, he rose to his feet and looked more determined than ever. As he left, he muttered silently, but loud enough for Arla to hear. ¡°Fine then, as you have abandoned us, we too will abandon you. Gods, damn you all!¡± Marcon hissed, and with that Marcon came back, a completely different man than the one that left her side a moment ago. This man stood slightly taller, walked with an air of defiance, and most importantly he had a look that seemed to stare through any obstacles in his path to show the correct method to take. As he approached, Marcon took a breath and then realized, ¡°you have questions?¡± Arla nodded, and then went into her trying to understand Marcon¡¯s rage. ¡°It is a good power though right?¡± Arla asked, suddenly wondering if she chose incorrectly at the trials. ¡°You said to grab the highest ranked power, and that¡¯s what I did.¡± At that Marcon looked like he had been punched in the face, but quickly shook his head to focus one more. ¡°Your power is great. Beyond great. Too great even. Had we been nobles and had contacts, you could have been a queen of a star system somewhere. Unfortunately, we aren¡¯t even accepted into the Federation yet, meaning that if we show off your powers, the best we can hope for is for us to be arrested on trumped up charges where you are held in captivity as a slave to provide power upgrades to the rich. At worse we get taken in by local crime lords and they drug you up and then have you provide benefits to those they deem worthy.¡± Marcon stated. ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Alra asked. Marcon just paused for a second, ¡°first you are going to show me what this power of yours can really do. I will be your first subject.¡± ¡°Then what?¡± ¡°Then we will get you a second power as well, register that as your primary power and then begin getting you enrolled in a military institution where you can hide this power under everyone¡¯s noses.¡± Marcon stated. And that was how the idea behind Ignition Brokers began, it was also the first time she became aware of the odd distortions in time. Not that they were anything great or grand, but that she now felt a deeper connection to this moment, and moments like these in a way she had never felt before.
***
Arla was in the laboratory room. There were a bunch of monitors, cameras, and machines that beeped. Yes, machines whose sole purpose was to turn on, show cascading light patterns and beep occasionally. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a kid¡¯s toy?¡± Arla found herself asking. ¡°It is, but see we take off the bright yellow casing, place it in this new frame, hook it up to other beeping devices and boom, instant scientific machine that no one wants to know about, but will see and expect in such a room.¡± ¡°Misdirection?¡± Arla asked. At that Marcon just nodded, ¡°misdirection. Remember, it is 90% pageantry and 10% work, the key to success in life.¡± Arla began turning on all the other equipment as well, she turned on a monitor. Wheeled in the movable metal gurney with restraints. That was Marcon¡¯s job, he was to apply and remove the restraints, all while Arla was in the panic room. Once everything was set up, Arla already in the panic room pinged Marcon that she was ready. From the panic room, Arla¡¯s secondary job was to monitor that no one else was coming. As a two-person team, they all had to pull multiple roles. Right now, Arla was doing the job of what Marcon called security details. Seeing that no one was around, Arla clicked the automatic locking systems, paused to make sure they were set, and even waited for the camera flashes to let her know that the locks had been set and that everything was good to go. Pausing the ten count and assuring that all feeds were in fact live, Arla left the panic room and made her way out, once she confirmed the patient was in and strapped down. ¡°Now this is a consensual procedure. Any time up to now, you can choose to get out and walk away, no harm no fowl.¡± Marcon said, offering the words needed for Arla to fully establish a sympathetic bond with the patient. ¡°No, I really need this,¡± the male patient began. ¡°You said it can open up a new power, even if the first one was only D-Rank?¡± At that Marcon just smiled his charming smile, the one that seemed to put everyone at ease, but Arla knew this smile meant he was lying. Of course, in this role he was always lying so that didn¡¯t change anything. During this time Arla came out and began positioning the light cylinder right over top of the patient. This was little more than heat conducting tube and an extra bright enchanted light and heat source at the top. These were the same kinds of heat stones one would find at a survivalist shop when they wanted to camp planet side or wanted to cook light foods on a smaller ship without creating carbon monoxide, or burning down the entire vessel. All pageantry, but oddly effective given the success rate of such operations. ¡°Correct, which is why we had you down for the upgrade and new package. The Upgrade will hopefully change the rate of your primary ability ranking, while also awakening a secondary ability that can go up to the new rating for your primary ability,¡± Marcon stated. This was the thing, Arla could awaken a secondary ability within people, but she found that the cap of the second ability was always the rating of either her own Ignition rating, or that of the individual¡¯s primary rating. There was some leeway to this, ones that were found through trial and error, but the easiest way to do a second high level awakening was always to strengthen the primary power rating first, and then awaken the secondary power rating, which almost always matched the power rating of the primary power. ¡°Okay,¡± the patient said. The entire time the patient never even noticed the lab assistant who was running around, turning on certain lights that blinded the patient. Activating the heat rocks, giving random utensils to Marcon who then proceeded to wave them around like magic sticks to a kid waiting to see magic for the first time. Almost like Marcon was a famed snake charmer dancing with his flute from side to side to distract the coiling snake ready to strike at anything that stood still for too long. Then once the heat source was activated, Arla also turned on a Cerusian light source, which illuminated the glass tubing, adding a visual effect to the fiery beam of heat that traveled down the tube and aimed at the person¡¯s stomach. Once the beam came on, that was Arla¡¯s cue to act. ¡°Ahh! It burns.¡± The scrawny male patient cried out, as he began tugging at the restraints. ¡°It¡¯s okay, what did you expect to happen, you still want this right?¡± Marcon asked. This was his last chance to pull back. The man paused for a second, before nodding. ¡°Yes, I want it. I need it.¡± ¡°Well okay then, just lay back, and let me take care of everything.¡± Marcon stated. As he did this, Arla gently placed her fingers on the patient¡¯s head and lowered his head to the table. This was meant to be a calming gesture, but in reality, it created a permanent form of contact between the two that allowed the symbiotic nature of her power to take hold within the target¡¯s mind.
Ignite (S) power activated.
Now it was all up to the patient to choose what happened next. The process was simple, you had an initial primary power that directly corresponded to one of the elements or higher powers. In Arla¡¯s case, her primary affinity was Spirit. Spirit was what let her interact with the very essence of others and help them awaken a portion of their true potential. Then from there they would choose a secondary ability that would be rated exactly as highly as the primary if they chose to go with a power of the same element. Or it would deviate by a ranking each field away from the primary element that they chose. It was a wheel. With the higher powers wedged between the lower elements. In Arla¡¯s case it was Spirit which was next to Air and Water. Who in turn were next to Light and darkness respectively. Then came Fire next to light, and earth next to darkness, with the circle ending with Corruption otherwise referred to as Death energy. By the virtue of being on a wheel, it meant that the most one primary power could be away from a secondary power was four rankings. Which meant that if Arla had Chosen to go with Death as the affinity for her secondary awakened power, her ranking for that secondary power would have been a D-Ranking, the ranking that this individual¡¯s primary power originally topped out at. Fortunately for Arla, she chose to stick with Spirit as her primary, and while she didn¡¯t get any healing related powers, which generally fall within the Water or Spirit realms, she did get something that Marcon helped her to realize would make her invaluable to the Federation, without having to reveal her primary power. Then glancing at her basic sheet and powers, she saw what she had been hoping for.
Name: Arla Proma
Role: Support Class
Primary Power Soul Power [Permanent Support]: Ignite (S) Can ignite one true potential power, up to Ignite ranking, of anyone. : Creates a sympathetic bond with awakened recipient, where igniter receives 10% of overall experience gained by awakened recipient. : Creates a sympathetic bond with awakened recipient, where igniter receives 25% of all Attributes increases gained by awakened recipient. : Can have multiple sympathetic bonds active at one time. : No distance limitations on gains provided by sympathetic bonds. :
Number of Active Symbiotic Relationships Active: 894 / 1,121
Secondary Power (Officially Recognized Power)
Soul Power [Support Temporary/Crafting Permanent]: Spirit Infusion (S): Infuse the power of spirit energy into items.
[Support- Temporary] Spirit Infusion: Can weaponize spirit energy infusing one unit of spirit power into a projectile or kinetic weapon dealing (N* X 10 damage) where (N= caster¡¯s Intelligence).
[Crafting- Permanent] Spirit Infusion: Can imbue items with neutral spirit energy. Can be used to power or recharge any elementally charged items. Charging at (N* units of energy) where (N= caster¡¯s Willpower).
Upon seeing the slight uptick in sympathetic bonds, going from 893 active to 894, and the overall number going up to 1,121 showed that the procedure had been successful. Once the completion was confirmed, Arla turned made eye contact with Marcon and nodded. Marcon having waited for this moment, again began working his magic, while Arla went back to the panic room. Arla didn¡¯t even pause to look and see the rune or its coloring that appeared on the individual before her, instead she got out of sight as quickly as possible. ¡°Now, you should start feeling the burning sensation outside your body beginning to take root within your core. Let me know what you see¡­¡± Marcon continued the act. Click. At that moment, the metal doors to the panic room closed. Leaving Marcon and the freshly awakened patient in front of him. Unfortunately, Arla arrived just in time to see trouble. There on the monitors were multiple squads of SWAT and other tactical enforcers at the doors using battering rams and other devices to try to breach the perimeter. Seeing the invasion force, Arla¡¯s mind went through the quick mental checklist, turning on the emergency red light that told Marcon about the invasion, she paused just long enough for Marcon to pause his speech and begin moving out. With Marcon taken care of, Arla began her own escape practices. Chapter 2 We All Know The Show Has To End, Eventually Chapter 2 We All Know The Show Has To End, Eventually The first thing Arla did when she began her escape was to set off the automatic detonators. Everything had to be burned. This meant the few fuses to the conveniently located thermite canisters began ticking. These fuses were long, as it gave Arla a chance to get out, well before everything, fake equipment included went up in burning ash. Taking a last moment to look out the observation window, Arla looked and saw that Marcon was gone, the patient had one arm free and a knife that they were using to try to cut through the remaining restraints. Apparently the guy wasn¡¯t a lefty, as they were having a particularly hard time cutting through the cord with the knife provided. Seeing that, and taking one last look at the monitors, she saw Marcon going to his store room and getting his equipment on. KABOOM! Suddenly a ground shaking explosion happened from the rear. Taking one last look at the monitors, Arla saw how the rear entry way had been the first to be breached, where the assault team then promptly triggered the first emergency defense. That was the cue, that Arla needed. At this moment everything was fine and going according to plan. Exhale. Despite the fear she was currently feeling, Arla couldn¡¯t help but feel momentarily alive. This was different than the situations that her father had run her through. Normally it was done with her being caught mid-procedure, or at various stages. The fact that only now was the swat team here, and she was already in her bunker did she realize this was fine. She had time. Taking a moment to calm herself, she steadied her hand, before pulling out the universal tether. This was the recording agent that proved the crime for both parties. Obviously given time Marcon and her own images would be blurred out, leaving only behind blackmail material of the patient who wished to get a second power awakened. Powers were not illegal. But when people could get those powers, or worse improve those powers outside of the various Awakening Guilds that controlled access to Awakenings, that was where the problem came. The guilds were the ones who singlehandedly enforced the universal laws of governing and monitoring powers. By being a member of the guild you were monitored and most importantly owed a tithing of all earnings gained from the use of your power to the guild. These guild dues were similar to what Arla had with her patients, but hers was straight off the top, before the guild got wind. And hers included Attribute increases, while the guild just took financial compensations. A way around the guilds was through the military, at which point your ties to previous guilds would be broken. This was the main reason that Marcon had pushed so hard for Arla to go the military route, as it would explain why she was not part of a guild, nor why a bond to a guild didn¡¯t exist. Technically Arla was what was referred to as an unbound, making her one step above a known terrorist. The idea being that since she was unbound to any guild or military, she was obviously going to a new location to stir up trouble and get away with crimes that couldn¡¯t be traced back to her. This was a theory that was backed by both history and a lot of lobbying from the various guilds. This was part of why Arla knew that she needed to run. In fact, she also knew that over ninety percent of her and Marcon¡¯s problems directly related to her. This was why, when he asked for one last big score before she went away to the Military, she couldn¡¯t refuse him. Marcon had always been smart, seemingly able to make money or establish an existence anywhere. These were all processes that he had passed on to her. Not just how to con people, as that was a minor part. The main lessons he taught were how to survive on your own. How to improvise on the fly, and most importantly how to survive at all costs. Looking at the bank of monitors Arla saw that everything was still going as per plan. With this she removed the mainframe that served as a handheld one stop shop for their overall security. Getting new monitors, new power cords and extensions, those were all easy to get. The only thing that would be hard to replace was this one component, which was why Arla grabbed it now, placed it protectively in her backpack and then began making her way down the escape shaft. Light blue lights. Fields of Air energy were active before her, a quick glance showed that the glowing air before her had the rune for Far Vision imprinted on it, seeing the power it was clear that this was slightly amateurish work. Also, the power was roughly D-Rank or maybe C-Rank at best. Not much, but enough to cause trouble if they saw her and were able to recognize her somehow. That was why, placing her hand along the wall of the small tunnel that Arla had to crawl through, Arla used the Crafting variant of her Spirit Infusion power, and charged some of the disruption runes that were carved throughout the pathway. These didn¡¯t do much, other than provide light sources, and most importantly disrupted other energy from going through the same medium. It was a wave and energy issue, where elemental energy could go through higher power runes. Just as higher power runes could bypass lower power runes. But what both had a hard time going through was neutrally powered runes, which was all that Arla could create. Not that this made working powers impossible, but it did disrupt the power being used. In this case it took the C or D ranked power and lowered its efficiency so that it was completely useless. While this did show that someone was now in the tunnels, it didn¡¯t tell which path in the tunnels Arla would take. Right now, Arla could take a total of five exit points, each letting out at different spots in the nearby neighborhood. Keeping her hand on the wall, Arla felt the connection and saw which way her energies were being pulled. So far it seemed that three of the five tunnels were being targeted, which meant so long as she was quick, she could use one of the final two tunnels to escape. On instinct she chose the left of the two tunnels, not knowing if one or both would also be found, but only trusting in that they had not as yet started to probe these two tunnels, which were both the furthest away, and would require Arla to move the fastest to get to the extraction point. Everything was going fine, Arla found herself thinking and forcing her mind to slow down as she raced through a myriad of alternate scenarios. But she trusted Marcon, if he had a plan, it would be good, and it would work. These were the thoughts that came to her as she continued to push forward through the tunnels at a controlled and measured pace. Of course, Arla¡¯s controlled pace would be sprinting by most people of her age. Fortunately for her, she had been trained from the start as to know what was standard for someone her age, and what was exceptional. Marcon had also taught her the times to be exceptional, and when she needed to be mediocre. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. This right here, a self-extraction event, this was the time for her to be exceptional. This was why Arla let her body move at its fastest. Her mind and direction already made up, she felt herself crawling faster than most people could walk. She was moving so quickly that her clothes began ripping and tearing at the sudden stain. The tearing was fine, and almost encouraged as she would have to strip off these clothes, pull out her replacements, get redressed, use her final thermite stick to burn away her clothing and then leave the extraction point as quickly as possible. Which was just what she did as she got to the exit. Swoosh. The subterranean seal on the universal ductworks that bound these older buildings together opened with a hiss. There had been a lock, but a few tricks taught to Arla by Marcon about such restraints proved invaluable as she was able to bypass the security measure in seconds. Once up, she gave a quick scan around, seeing nothing. Then quickly began stripping off her now dirty technician jacket, her loose slacks, and her moccasin slippers, before putting on her form fitting space travel suits, and boots. Then looking around, she found an old metal trash bin in the corner. Seeing it, she moved over and placed her old uniform, shoes and clothing. Then giving a quick fluffing of her medium sized hair, grabbed any excess hair particles and placed them all in the bin. With that, Arla took out the removable hard drive, placed it in a custom seam that all space suits had for just such a purpose, the extra-large pocket that could be used to hide needed documents. In there, she felt the comforting sensation of her new government identity, along with the tell-tale rectangular shape of a one-way boarding pass. Next to those two items she placed her memory stick, and a quick swipe of her hand and application of neutral energy later, the suit sealed up to be perfectly seamless. The sealing rune was a complex one of Earth and darkness that blended elements together to hide compartments just like these, which made the seals invaluable for space flight as they all but ensured a permanent seal was in place. With everything in place and her hands now free, albeit covered in the black gloves of her suit, she looked fairly uninteresting. Travel light, travel fast. Smoothly. The world seemed to be going by slowly, but that was just a mixture of adrenaline and Arla¡¯s heightened Attributes at work. Still, she forced herself to calm down, to breathe. It was all too quick, too intense. But she had done it, she had done everything. She was finally rounding the block, needed to make a straight getaway towards the nearest star port, a place that would then lead her to a launch point in orbit. From there she would go to the first of many redundant rally points where Marcon would meet up with her and they would state their final goodbyes. Tremor. Just as she had the thought that she was free and clear, an immense pain filled her chest as she reached up and placed her hand over her heart. While bracing herself against the nearby wall with her left hand. Panting. There was an intense burning sensation as first one, then a longer burn erupted in her chest. The pain she felt was excruciating, but she knew that she had to check one thing. Then pulling up her interface she saw the message that she had been dreading.
Number of Active Symbiotic Relationships Active: 892 / 1,121
The counter of symbiotic relationships she held had been decreased by not one, but two. ¡°No, no¡­¡± Arla stammered, as she read the system message that was irrefutable. Also, seeing as how powerful the snap was, both people had to have been close by. A tear filled her eye as she instantly felt for a communicator, only to realize that she had burned the last one she had. Pulse. For the first time in her entire life, she felt alone. No wait, she had been alone multiple times before and each time Marcon always got out. Mentally she went through the possible scenarios of what happened. One of the deaths was obviously the newly converted patient, being strapped down and only having their left hand free while trying to cut themselves free, they probably slit their own wrist open rather than getting freedom. That meant the second was someone on this planet. Though planet was a bit generous, as this was clearly a partially terraformed organic satellite that was used as a way station between long space runs. A place to refuel if needed, fix an emergency configuration, or otherwise get out and stretch your legs. That was why it was so easy to get out of here, as there were multiple shuttle-stands that all took you to the singular launch point that would then take you to one of multiple liners that would take you to various star systems. Part of the cover was that Marcon and Arla would both leave via different liners that were heading roughly in the same direction. ¡°Plan doesn¡¯t change, the plan never changes,¡± Arla grunted with defiance, as she knew two things. First, she knew that Marcon was alive, while she wasn¡¯t powerful enough to see who had an active symbiotic link with her still, she knew that nothing short of a direct nuclear warhead could kill Marcon, even then it was only a fifty-fifty chance of death. No, he was alive, and she would meet him. If only to say goodbye and thank you. Yes, with that done, she would feel complete and be able to move on and fulfill his last wishes. He had high hopes for Arla. Not just a degree, not just a Master¡¯s degree, but a full on Doctorate, something that could prove her value based on its own. Especially a Doctorate from a prestigious Military Academy, like the one in Maralla. Regardless of whether he met up with her or not, she would go on to the Academy and await for Marcon to reach out to her. And he would reach out to her. Even in the most secure facility in the star system, he would find a way to get her a coded message that only she would be able to decipher. She knew this, and that was what made her feel confident that the burning in her chest was not Marcon, it couldn¡¯t be. With over a thousand people given a secondary awakening, it was impossible not to believe that she would run into one of them somewhere. The fact that one happened to die right after a second, well that was a harder statistic to stomach, but not one that was impossible to fathom. What was impossible to fathom and one that Arla couldn¡¯t come to grips with was that Marcon could be dead. Not when he just got everything he wanted. Money, freedom from Arla, and a flawless escape plan. ¡°What will you do when this is over, and I am in the University?¡± Arla remembered herself asking. Chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s the great thing about youth, you can always imagine a better tomorrow if you just try harder,¡± Marcon replied. ¡°But we are there, your dream. Your goals?¡± Arla asked. ¡°You mean your dreams, and your goals. I need you to want them as much as I do, if not more for them to become true. Can you do that for me, focus on these dreams. Dreams where you are accepted for who you are and what you are. Dreams where you are so important that you can¡¯t go missing. If you do that, then I will be able to rest in peace.¡± ¡°On vacation?¡± Snort. ¡°Yeah, you could call it my personal vacation.¡± Marcon said in his way that clearly showed he was keeping most of his true thoughts to himself. Still, it was more than Arla had expected from Marcon. Ding. A timer went off overhead. Arla didn¡¯t know how long she had taken to recover from the pain of the rupturing of not one but two nearby sympathetic bonds, but it had apparently been a while. Judging by the time, Arla had to hustle to make it to her jump shuttle location. This was fairly easy to make, but it meant that Arla wouldn¡¯t have any time to prep. Meaning she wouldn¡¯t be able to scout the area for anyone looking out of place. Multiple people have a reason to look out of place at a jump shuttle stand. People from nervous space flyers to people needed to hustle to make secondary and tertiary stops, to law enforcement, to people like her and Marcon, people who were always on the run from others. There were a multitude of reasons why people would look weird or otherwise stand out, but the people that didn¡¯t stand out in some way, those were the ones to watch out for, for those were often the predators waiting to pounce. Unfortunately, being so close to departure time, Arla didn¡¯t get more than a cursory glance of the area and login area to see anyone. With a quick wave of her hand she pulled out the rectangular shuttle pass. For planetary jumps there was no need for identification. Which was why her new passport with her new name remained in her suit. By scanning the card, a band was made available, one that she could either string about her wrists or her neck. Arla not wanting to draw attention to herself placed it on the body part that 80% of all passengers used, her wrist. With that she had exactly two minutes before the next shuttle that was already present would be fully prepped and ready to make the jump to minor-atmo. With the ship not having to constantly suffer the sustained burns of entering and exiting atmospheric pressure, these ships could take on a lot more wear and tear than normal spaceships could. Also, given that this was a partially terraformed organic satellite, the atmosphere here was far less dense than other planets, meaning the safety regulations for these shuttles could be far more relaxed than on regular and large sized planetoids. Still, looking at the ship with its numerous exhaust vents active and smoke coming out of different chambers, many of which were not meant for such conditions, Arla couldn¡¯t help but feel slightly on edge about the flight. However, her mechanical intuition told her that while the ship¡¯s exterior had a lot to be desired, the interior would be more than capable of performing the needed task. At least that is what she hoped. ¡°First time flying?¡± A young male voice asked. Pausing for a moment, Arla just stared at the boy, or maybe teenager, early adult at best. It was clear that this boy was roughly around Arla¡¯s own age. Seeing him, Arla scanned him once for any forms of bulges to his space suit or otherwise hidden compartments. After a quick glance, it was clear that he didn¡¯t have any associated firearms or known weapon bulges that Arla had been taught to look for. That said, the lack of a bulge didn¡¯t mean this person couldn¡¯t kill her if he tried. Arla herself looked completely unarmed and helpless, but with her secondary powers she was anything but helpless and had taken a life more than once. Thinking back Arla almost let her mind wonder to the first time Marcon taught her the point of killing for survival. He also taught her to kill for the better of society, if she could help it. Seeing the boy, Arla just let out a harumph, which seemed to be enough to dissuade the boy from making any more overt gestures in her direction. ¡°Now boarding, everyone waiting to get to the external planetary stations please step this way.¡± The conductor announced over the intercom. Phew. With that, Arla was able to relax slightly as she no longer had to deal with desperate attempts of some boy trying to pick her up. Not while shew as in the middle of an escape and rally procedure, and hopefully not ever. Boys and relationships in general were nothing but trouble, Marcon¡¯s tenth rule. With the awkward moment diffused, Arla managed to get on a section of the craft that was overcrowded enough to have people that would separate her from the new boy, while she could also get a clear visual of everyone in the vehicle. Choosing one of the back seats, she sat down, buckled herself in and momentarily exhaled as she realized the seat next to her would be unoccupied. The boy apparently took the hint and sat with a few of his friends that he was apparently travelling with. While all of the others seemed to be family units with small children, couples, or otherwise paired singles. ¡°Last call, last call, last call.¡± The announcer stated. Then just as the doors began to slide shut and Arla felt her mind relax slightly, she saw a man rush forward and brace the closing doors with his gloved hand. Seeing the man, Arla¡¯s eyes went wide with recognition as her breath momentarily caught in her chest as she saw the last person she wanted to see right now. For there in the flesh was a large military officer still wearing their SWAT gear, despite being on a public transport. Then to make matters worse, the SWAT member scanned the car, then spotted Arla and immediately began storming towards her. Instantly Arla who had been in a mostly calm state felt a rush of adrenaline course through her as her mind prepared for how to deal with this incoming officer. Chapter 3 This Seat Taken? Chapter 3 This Seat Taken? ¡°Pardon me, but is this seat taken?¡± The SWAT gear wearing soldier asked, a slightly desperate tone to his voice. Seeing him, Arla just took one glance at him, then instinctively shook her head no. Despite the fact that her eyes tracked trails of blood splatter. ¡°Thank you,¡± the man stated as he quickly jumped into the seat and began strapping himself into place. Puff. As he sunk in and caused a cloud of sweat to rise up through his once soaked uniform, Arla could tell that this man had recently been on a mission. Arla noted a few other characteristics about the person next to her. First, he wore a wedding band on mission, which meant he was either new to this line of work, or had been called in as an extra. There was also the fact that despite having his torso size nearly doubled due to the vest and protective gear, he still fit inside his own seat easily, without expanding out as most older males did, further reinforcing the idea of him being a greenhorn. Still, it was best for Arla to avoid the man at all costs, in this case being a single female paid of handedly for this set of circumstances. Turning her head right, away from the young soldier, Arla began using the glass to pretend like she was looking outside. All the while she was using the reflective surface of the glass to show her what everyone else was doing. Marcon¡¯s Fifth Rule: If there was one guard that was obvious there were likely twice as many that were not obvious. The one that made a bee line towards her could have been an obvious attempt to get her, but that didn¡¯t meant that there weren¡¯t others nearby. Taking her time Arla scanned the people immediately in front of her. One or two met the build type, but one was old and clearly in the age of retirement, not one that would be called in to track down an unlicensed awakening team. The other person, they were of the same height and build as the young soldier next to Arla, but they had managed to change out of tactical gear. If they ever wore tactical gear in the first place, as the other one that fit the mental role of an operative was a female. Arla knew that these outer sectors were sometimes archaically chivalrous when it came to allowing females into combat. This was a factor that Arla herself exploited constantly thanks to constant training from Marcon. Thanks to Marcon and her symbiotic relationship with those she Awakens, her experience gains were astronomical. Allowing her to maximize skill growth. In order to enhance a skill, an Awakened individual needed three components. First: The individual needed a base Attribute rating that was high enough to meet the skill threshold level. For most introductory skills just having the base 10 to 15 was enough to get the first step in all skills. Second: An individual also needed to either learn through repetition, or could have their understanding increased by being watched or taught by an Awakened expert. This was where Marcon was invaluable to Arla, for despite his constant grief about never being able to give Arla an easy life. He sure made up for it with skills, either he knew each skill himself, or he would call in every favor he ever had to have someone train Arla on his behalf. For that alone she was eternally grateful to him. It was also thanks to these trainings that Alra knew that Marcon was not easy to kill. This of course led Arla to the third thing needed to become proficient in skills. Third: An Awakened user also needed the required amount of experience to raise and learn each new skill level. Depending on the skill¡¯s noted rarity or complexity, Skills cost anywhere from 100 experience points for simple tasks like Running, Swimming, Deep Breathing. This could be purchased a total of ten times maxing the base skill out at level 10 for a total of 1,000 experience. From there, one could specialize again going with an advanced version of the basic skill. Focusing on Endurance Running, Deep Water Swimming, or Meditation for 1,000 experience to evolve the skill. Then an extra thousand per level, for a total of ten thousand experience to max out an Intermediate level skill. From there Advanced skills could be learned at a base of ten thousand experience, and master at one hundred thousand. Once one got to the point of expertise in one form of a skill, they could start over. Where they would have to have a new mirrored base that would cost half as much as the original and be able to grow out to be as large as the primary skill line. In these cases the first progression of any skill from start to finish was called a trunk, then each half priced off shoot would be called a branch. For many skills having one perfect trunk was more than acceptable. The only skill progression that Marcon was adamant that Arla learn to make into a full-fledged tree was the unarmed combat discipline. This was why Arla felt somewhat relaxed, even by the man being next to her and essentially pinning her in place. Arla knew from experience that the person next to her had gym muscles, which meant they looked pretty, but did not allow for functional movements. Especially considering he was wearing a full tactical suit, while strapped into a seat, further reducing his mobility. No, he wouldn¡¯t be a problem, but the girl operative, she looked like she would be trouble. Glance. Just as Arla had been peering into the window taking in the full measure of the woman, the woman seemed to have felt her reflected gaze and stared back at her reflection. In that moment, there was a silent challenge given. One noted by two people who were using the same exact methods to try to remain undetected, only to be found out by that very method. Right now, Arla had only a few options available to her. First, she could look away, all but admitting guilt of some kind, for only a person with a guilty conscience would look down and away after such a glance. This might defuse the situation but would likely draw attention to her. Second, she could stare intimidatingly at the girl, until she backed away. If the female did, then she likely wouldn¡¯t be an operative, but would stand out in the mind of the woman for all the wrong reasons. Or she could go with option three. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Biting her lower lip. Alra gave a slight blush to her cheeks as she forced her acting skill to take over and guide her body through the emotional range she wanted. Instantly, her reaction had the desired result, for the girl that had noticed her. The muscular female operative had also blushed, but Arla could tell her reaction was a natural response to flattery from someone they found attractive. While Arla¡¯s was clearly feigned, albeit feigned at a high level that was taught to her by experts in the field of manipulation and expression. With this, Arla glanced with her eyes and then broke eye contact first, looking down at her lap, but forcing the same intense emotion of energy to fill her cheeks. Arla counted to five and then nervously glanced over out of the side of her eyes at the operative, this time looking at the woman directly. Their eyes locked and this time the amount of blush in the female operative¡¯s cheeks grew in intensity. Seeing that it was working, Arla nervously curled her recently dyed black hair past her left ear, the ear facing the stranger. Then blushing she looked down again, and when she looked back up, she saw that the woman had broken her own eye contact, while smiling to herself. Then with that, she began actively scanning the rest of the car. From the way her eyes were searching, it was clear she was likely looking for someone. Given that she had apparently decided to skip over Arla, she mentally relaxed as the hardest part had been taken care of, at least as far as she was concerned. Of course, now that she had obfuscated herself from the suspicion of the female operative, Arla had to keep in mind another of Marcon¡¯s rules. Rule 21: Always keep the con going. This meant that since she had expressed interest in the female operative, she needed to keep up the fa?ade, lest she draw even more attention to herself. The only problem was, how could she do this, but before she could get too lost in her own thoughts on this, the soldier in full swat gear next to her took on the role for her. ¡°So where are you heading to?¡± The man asked, being this close Arla could smell his breath, laced with coffee, accelerants, and ethanols. The first two were for obvious reasons as he likely wanted to be hyper focused during the operation, while the use of ethanols meant he was an Awakened power user, and expected a prolonged battle. Hearing this, Arla smiled and stated the truth. Something that would normally give her pause, but from here on out she was free of the previous life. Right now, she was her own independent person and ready to become a fully accepted citizen of the Federation. It was odd, taking a deep breath, Arla realized that for the first time she could almost disregard rule number six, as it would not be necessary. Rule 6: Make the Con believable. Exhaling slightly at the odd way that she didn¡¯t feel the need to have any pressure on her, she told the truth. Though she kept the full details vague, mostly out of habit. But partially because she knew she was not fully out of the woods yet. Still, lying now and being caught lying to an officer of the outer systems would not bode well for her chance at citizenship. ¡°I got accepted to Uni, and am heading there now.¡± Arla admitted, letting a bit of an accent come to her words, while also making sure to use the local colloquialisms. ¡°Congratulations,¡± the swat member stated and actually seemed to mean it, then with a downcast look he responded. ¡°I eventually plan to go to Uni as well, but to one of the Military academies, if they will accept me.¡± Hearing that, Arla couldn¡¯t tell if the man was fishing for information on her, or if this was his actual course in life. Still, Arla planned to keep her full details to herself, as she didn¡¯t know who else could be hearing her. ¡°Oh, congratulations. So, you are wearing this for?¡± Arla pushed. ¡°Global Guild Guard, in fact I just got a mission completed, which is why I am still in full regalia,¡± the man, more of a late teenager, to twenty-year-old at most exclaimed excitedly. ¡°Oh?¡± Was all Arla had to say, her tone inquisitive as she let the soldier give away as much information as he wanted to, without Arla fishing for anything. ¡°Yeah, it was so much fun. We went out, protected the streets from an underground arms dealer, and made the sector a better place. All in a day¡¯s work though,¡± The man said, excitedly talking to Arla, as if trying to impress an ignorant college girl caught between connecting hops and flight liners. ¡°Very cool,¡± Arla pretended, her voice conveying the fake emotions she needed to survive in this role she now found herself. ¡°Yeah, I can¡¯t really go into too many details, but if you watch the local sector news, you might hear about us.¡± He stated smiling what he likely thought was an energetic smile, though the accelerants clearly didn¡¯t have time to run their course through his system causing his eye and cheek to twitch out of synchronization. Though you could never tell that based on the way he excitedly pointed to himself with his left hand and just smiled. It was clear that he was likely trying to use this to curry some kind of favor with Arla, but Arla took that exact moment to visibly glance to the wedding ring that was still on the boy¡¯s finger and then respond. ¡°Your partner must be extremely proud of you and all the good you are doing.¡± Hearing the words the boy paused for a moment, and then seemed to follow the trail of Arla¡¯s gaze to his left hand, where he looked down to see the traitorous golden ring still sitting there for all to see. ¡°Oh, uh, right, she is. And she is very amazing,¡± The Swat soldier said embarrassedly. ¡°She likely has to be, not easy being in the service, or helping those in the service,¡± Arla noted as she broke eye contact from the clearly nervous boy, and paused her gaze as she stopped just before the female operative. For a moment their eyes both met, as it was clear she had been watching the exchange between herself and the swat soldier. No doubt she thought the boy was too loose with his words as well, but then she focused on Arla and smiled slightly. This time it was the operative who tucked her own stands of hair over her left ear as she blushed and stared at Arla. Seeing this, Arla smiled coyly and proceeded to look back out the window. From the sight of things, they were nearing the landing zone. Hmm. Pausing for a second, Arla had to admit that while the ship looked like it was on its last legs, it still made the jump up here relatively smoothly. Then her mind focused back on the situation at hand, all she had to do now was sit back and wait, as all minor issues had been monetarily resolved. The married soldier now seemed far less keen on hitting on Arla, while the female operative seemed to be content to wait for this to play out. Given the extent of everything, Arla felt secure in her position, both in terms of being able to effectively lie her way out of here, but also if it came to it, she felt she could quickly disable the guild swat member next to her, and gain a few weapons he currently had available to him. Of course, her best course of action was to wait and pretend like everything was fine and explain any nerves she had due to the fact that she was going to Uni. That and the impressively attractive operative kept making random eye contact with her. ¡°Now landing, repeat, now landing. We have arrived precisely on time, and will not be able to be held liable for any missed flights or connections from here. Repeat we are landing precisely on time and will not be held liable for any missed connection flights from here.¡± An announcer blared to life. Looking around she saw that everyone else was staring off at the time. Even the operative before him flashed a glowing blue 3D image of the local time. Seeing the clock and comparing it to others around, she found that his time was roughly to standards if slow by a minute for some reason. Still this was good as it meant that Arla did not have to turn on her omni pad and personal tracker yet. If she had it her way, she wouldn¡¯t have to turn on her omni pad until she reached the Myaldra cluster, where she first went dark as per Marcon¡¯s orders. This way there would be a gap of 48 hours, but she would disappear and reappear at the exact same location, allowing her to avoid any sector alerts that turning on her communicator might normally generate. Yes, everything was going as per the plan. Unfortunately, Arla couldn¡¯t shake the fact that despite being here, she was close to having her first set of problems arise. However, this was not something she could control. She cannot control the nerves that surround a mission and extraction, she could only control the way she reacted to her nerves surrounding a mission. Breathe in, breathe out. Arla focused her mind on performing deep meditations, these were the advanced form of the skill, the ones that could be practiced with the eyes open and the body moving. To have wasted so much experience on this at such a young age was sadly needed. As her other aspects, those that come from the Cerusian part of her biology, they were hyper sensitive to outside stimuli. Like fish feeling the ripples of a predator coming in the waves, they were able to feel out danger in advance and prepare. That was why it was almost impossible to meet up with a pack of Cerusian. Even after unifying forces to combat external threats like the Harbingers, tensions between Cerusians and the Federation remain strained so much that both factions tried to avoid each other. In fact, other than the time when Arla got her study materials and partook in her trials she never saw another Cerusian. Even then the woman she saw was beautiful, like flowing water given solid form. It was clear from the way even Marcon had a hard time breathing in her presence that she was truly captivating, and that she had Marcon¡¯s full attention right from the start. Odd that he would be remembering this moment here. While Marcon would never admit it, Arla liked to believe that the woman who gave him the Tribal training materials was her mother. Though it was almost impossible to tell as Marcon himself would never admit to such a thing. That was likely the test she had failed. There was an intense pressure that she felt at the time, one that felt like it would completely overwhelm her and drown her if she but stayed still. Yet, Arla knew that this test was important, that she could not show fear. That was why even then she relied upon her acting and meditation skills to stay perfectly still, despite the clear danger that surrounded her. While she had other tests that followed, that test she couldn¡¯t help but feel she failed. Particularly as several of her judges for the tests looked at her with clear disappointment in their eyes. Finally, it was time to leave, at which point the door opened and everyone began surging out. With this Arla could feel that same level of intensity, that same level of warning telling her that something was wrong. To her delight, the female operative gave one last smiling nod, before leaving. Arla could have gone to be with her, but unfortunately, she was held back by the overly large swat member who was just standing there waiting for others to go. Then finally he looked back at Arla, smiled, and then proceeded out the door. Arla was quickly on his heels, trying to see who the swat member would link up with, trying to see if there was a group of guards. Fortunately, it didn¡¯t take long to see where both the female operative and the Swat member were going, for just down the way was a second shuttle from another stop that had seemingly arrived on its own. There was close to a platoon of highly geared soldiers, all wearing weapons and assault gear. And there at the center was a person who was chained up that made Arla¡¯s heart skip a beat, as she would recognize that person anywhere. Marcon. Chapter 4 A Reunion Of Sorts Chapter 4 A Reunion Of Sorts Arla¡¯s breath caught for a moment, as all she could do was stand on the entry platform and stare at the mass of soldiers who were all gathering around Marcon. Before she even realized the trap, she began taking first one step forward, and then a second step. Her eyes clearly betraying her recognition of the suspect. A suspect she knew wasn¡¯t dead. Then her mind began breaking down the hundreds and thousands of different stimuli that were all inundating her brain. First, she knew Marcon was not dead, despite having her own sympathetic bonds break, informing her that one of her someone who she previously Awakened with her powers had died. She refused to believe that Marcon died, at least not by the minimal destruction caused. Second, she could not feel a connection to this Marcon, while she did feel a connection to one of her sympathetic bonds, it soon became clear that the bond she felt was not for the person currently posing as Marcon. The connection she was referring to, was the deep spiritual tether that bound her soul with one she Awakened was undeniable, untestable, but also very exact when she was in close proximity to the aforementioned Awakened. This was why, after a few steps towards Marcon, or the person that just looked like Marcon, she had to stop in her tracks, as that was not Marcon. At least her sympathetic bonds told her that she had no prior spiritual connection to that individual. That was why, after a solid five paces forward, Arla found herself making a half left turn and looking forward found a rather tall thin, slender man, in a well-tailored blue spacesuit that looked both functional and fashionable. There was more to this encounter, for Arla could feel the spiritual connection to this man, a connection that spoke of both prior meetings and more. Before Arla could take into account what was happening, that very man stepped forward. Now that she had a better look, it was clear that the man before her was elder, not so old as to be infirm, but old enough to have children, likely man from many different women, all happy and healthy living in his mansion, if his mannerisms and posture were anything to go off of. Yes, it was clear from a glance that this was a person who could have afforded her services. Marcon of course would do the vetting, but Arla made sure to at least look at the patients, to see if she could remember which one betrayed them. That was why, after a moment, she finally remembered this gentleman, The Trillion Parsec cluster, but why was he out here? Also, there was a young woman by his side. She was pretty, tall and also slender. A secretary perhaps? Maybe a personal attendant? Given her lack of muscle growth and odd reaction speed, particularly with the way she didn¡¯t keep up with the well-dressed former client, it was clear she was not a bodyguard who purposefully looked weak. However, before Arla was able to take in more information with her eyes, the rapidly approaching man stopped two paces away and began speaking. ¡°Why hello Ms. Proma, a pleasure to meet you again.¡± Shivers. Hearing the man¡¯s comments, Arla was automatically on guard, for she never used her real last name on anything. In fact, as far as she was concerned, no one would know about her last name as she just got this one. ¡°You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Mr. ?¡± Arla began, settling in instantly for a cultured woman out for a deep exploration of space, before heading into Uni. Her mind coming up with her cover that was both believable enough and not too much of a stretch. ¡°Oh, where are my manners. I meet a legendary beauty such as yourself, and I forget the basics. You must forgive me for I have an advanced grade of Precognitive Acuity, a function that you might be familiar with,¡± The man stated. His words innocuous, but the hidden meaning right there and clear as day. Instantly, Arla felt her hackles rise as she prepared for an exit strategy. The man had seemingly challenged her own ability to Awaken others, and not just that, but improve those same functions in others. While that is not what a common passerby would have heard, anyone recording, and everything was being recorded in these places would note the comment and be able to dissect the hidden meaning if given enough time and effort. ¡°Oh, well you are forgiven, but I really must beg your pardon. Would you but read this card and let me know what you think?¡± The man said, holding up a digital greeting card. Digital greeting cards were just as one would expect, they could be formed to have a logo and flourishing design, along with the name and contact information for the person on the card. Yet, as Arla grabbed the card, she saw the design flicker for a moment, before a message scrolled across the page that seemed to run as quickly as her eyes could recognize the information. Fortunately for Arla, her eyes could read rather quickly, making it so the message on the card was not able to be read by others. That and the high gloss casing made it so anyone not staring straight on at the card could read the information. All of this pointed to power, opsec, and a lot of money to be used for such onetime use cards.
Greetings. I know you don¡¯t remember me, which is why I will introduce myself here. I am Mr. Tempora, a person who was greatly helped by you and your guardian. By now you have likely realized that the trap around you was staged in order to lure you out. What you might not be aware of is that your liner to your next destination has also been compromised. While you might be good, you will eventually be found, given that the ship will never disembark until everyone is held for a minimum of two weeks. And we all know what happens to hair after two weeks, don¡¯t we? That is why I offer you an alternative. Come with me, perform the same procedure to my daughter, the meek looking female behind me, and join me on a direct route to the Military Academy in Maralla, where my daughter is also slated to attend. Now before this begins, I do have an advanced case of Precognition, thanks to you. I also have a second power related to Time Manipulation, also thanks to you. Why do I say this? Simple, now you have leverage over me as well. As you know, you state this to any of those military soldiers and I will be taken in. With you of course following right behind me. Thus we have assurances that we do not want to turn each other in. Now, why my daughter? Simple, she has become convinced that being a Military Officer is what she wants to do. I have seen some of her other career choices and they do not turn out that well for her, so I have agreed to help her out. That is why we are enlisting your aid. My daughter needs power, a lot more than she has currently, and you will need a friend. Now is the time to think about the proposal and give yourself a second to come up with questions you might have. To help you out, the first answer to the question you cannot ask is: yes, she was a plant that made you almost immediately. This card will now go back to its default setting, as this file and all lingering traces of it will be erased.
With that the card began to blink rapidly, before flashing once and erupting back to a traditional eCard that had Mr. Tempora¡¯s name, his phone number and a platform he could be found on. Seeing the card, Arla felt impressed. For a con job this was one of the best. Then thinking about the question Arla would have asked, she found myself looking around. First she looked left, then right towards the gathering of guards. As she looked over, she saw a fairly confused looking female spook, the same one from the train. Seeing the spook and her clearly flustered appearance, Arla realized the question she would have asked. ¡°Okay, if you do have precognition, did that officer make me?¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Judging by the confused body posture, and way she was now staring at the two of them, Arla had to agree. The girl had made her, she had even begun a con of her own to try to lure Arla into getting close, likely to provide some form of biometric verification that could then be used against her. Since she was likely just working for the Guilds, her methods of collection would have to be voluntary, versus compulsory like the actual law enforcement officers of this sector could demand. Taking one last glance at the woman who looked more confused than anything, Arla could only nod to herself, before pausing first to stare at the strange man. A man who all but radiated light, even his hair though aged still shown with flecks of golden brilliance. Looking at him, Arla still had options. While her initial plans had been altered. Despite everything, ditching the first known ride and booking another would not be tough, she decided instead to listen to her gut. That was why staring at the man for a moment, Arla decided to nod to herself, before realizing that her gut was not warning her. Thinking back, her body was trying to warn her about Marcon earlier, or at least the figure parading as Marcon. The fact that she had no spiritual connection to that man showed that it was not her Marcon, but could have been someone with a shifter ability, or other method of masking their presence. Then pausing for a moment, Arla looked left, past Mr. Tempora¡¯s right shoulder and stared at the somewhat mousey woman. A woman who despite being tall, attractive, and having most of the genetic markers people would die for, she looked almost insecure in her own skin. Seeing her in that state, Arla realized that the man was right, his daughter likely needed a lot of assistance if she was to be not just accepted into the Military, but if she was also going to survive such an experience. ¡°Okay, I will do it,¡± Arla finally said, after locking gazes with the strange girl, before she turned her eyes away and stared at the floor. Arla felt no danger with this option, though she did note that the future would change a lot after this moment. ¡°I will warn you, that after our trip, you might view the world a bit differently,¡± Mr. Tempora stated. Again, there was no threat, just a warning. ¡°This is in relation to your other¡­¡± Arla began, but soon trailed off. ¡°Yes, to that which you helped with,¡± the man stated. Arla was concerned for a moment, if he had a high level of Precognition for his first power, then what did he get for his second power? Also was it so powerful as to completely change the destiny of this man and his family? For he seemed to be extremely well off. There are certain things that you can¡¯t hide without money, and he exuded none of those traits. Hearing the words, Arla just nodded. She expected change, and her body told her that while some of the changes she would face might be bad, they would all ultimately lead to a positive conclusion. Or so she hoped. ¡°Fair enough,¡± Arla responded and like that, the three left. Following Mr. Tempora, Arla soon found herself walking side-by-side with the daughter. As she fell in step beside the daughter, Arla gave a quick glance back towards the gathering troops and where the not real version of Marcon still stood. Looking back there were so many things that were off about this Marcon, the way he didn''t clinch his jaw shut, causing his veins to bulge just right on his left side of his face. The way he didn''t even attempt to smile, even while in the middle of the forces. There was also the fact that the woman, the spook was staring at Arla in surprise as she left, a note of clear confusion on her face as she wondered if Arla was not her mark after all. At least, that was what Arla had gathered from the brief exchange of glances. Yes, it seemed that at least regarding the one trap, Mr. Tempora had been correct. Now, she had to find out what his goal was, and whether it was worthwhile helping him, again apparently. Pausing for a moment, Arla wondered if she was in fact prepared for what might happen next. Taking a deep calming breath, she focused on what skills she had amassed through her efforts.
Name: Arla Proma
Role: Support Class
Primary Power Soul Power [Permanent Support]: Ignite (S) Can ignite one true potential power, up to Ignite ranking, of anyone.
Secondary Power (Officially Recognized Power) Soul Power [Support Temporary/Crafting Permanent]: Spirit Infusion (S): Infuse the power of spirit energy into items.
Experience Breakdown:
Remaining Experience: 15,097 / 1,791,097
Trunk(s): 9
Branch(es): 14
Skills:
  • Focused Vision -> Energy Sight -> Enhanced Cerusian Sight (Max)
  • Deep Breathing -> Meditation -> Moving Rejuvenation (Max)
  • Athletics - > Gymnastics -> Parkour (Max)
    1. -> Gymnastics -> Safe Falling (Max)
    2. -> Weightlifting -> Compact Muscles (Max)
    3. -> Endurance Training -> High Endurance Resistance (Max)
  • Unarmed Combat -> Striking -> General Strikes (Max)
    1. -> Striking -> Kickboxing (Max)
    2. -> Inner Power -> Power Strikes (Max)
  • Acting -> Feigning Emotions -> Projecting (Max)
    1. -> Role Playing -> Deep Imersion (Max)
  • Observation -> Scanning -> Active Comprehension (Max)
  • Academics -> General Knowledge -> Universal Education(Max)
    1. -> Mathematics -> Engineering (Max)
    2. -> Memorization -> Enhanced Memorization (Max)
    3. -> Linguistics -> Languages (Max)
      1. -> Cerusian Runes (Max)
      2. Dialects (Max)
      3. Meta Linguistics (Max)
      4. Love Languages (Max)
  • Calming Breaths -> Stealth -> Silent Movement (Max)
  • Armed Combat -> Firearms -> Sniping (Max)
    1. -> Firing On The Move (Max)
Through her and Marcon¡¯s efforts, she had amassed a wealth of knowledge and experience. Using the system for experience was odd. You could go and learn anything, even having skills that were not officially recognized by the system. In fact, the System only served to do two things. First, the system measured your competency as compared to the national average of all users. It was hinted at that part of the process, particularly for the larger sets of experience used went towards forcing universal truths onto the minds of people. A form of universal consciousness that was almost impossible to fully appreciate. The Second thing the System did was permanently lock in all gained information. This meant that while Arla had learned her Cerusian runes while younger, she could have forgotten some of the knowledge to either atrophy or mis-remembering key concepts, until the system aided her in her knowledge and retention. Thus, once she purchased the Linguistic adaptation for Cerusian Runes, her mind permanently locked that information into place. The system even decided to either force more universal concepts in her mind, or her maxing out of the skill caused her to retain more information than what she had originally remembered being tested on. This meant that she had the vital information of Cerusian Runes forced on her mind, so that she likely knew more now than those who originally tested her. With this new understanding, she could also feel why learning through the system was so wrong. For originally Arla had her own innate understandings and developments to build upon. These understandings were a building block in her mind that she could go back to and force her way out to the individual lesson she took. Sort of a self-created scaffolding in her mind. By contrast, the System made such actions archaic and unnecessary. By learning each new Skill and branching form of intelligence off that primary skill, Arla understood why she could never go back to being a tribe member. For being a tribe member meant being free of such forced constraints. Still, by now she had accepted her lot in life, and knew that the more skills and offshoots she had, the more desirable she would be to the Federation. Which meant that all of Marcon¡¯s sacrifices would not have been in vain. This was why Arla followed the strangely magnetic man, and his apparently under achieving daughter. Arla hadn¡¯t given up on her business, though she had hoped to lay low with her Awakening power for a bit. That said, this was not the first time she had used her power to book favorable passage out of a disadvantageous location, and unfortunately it seemed that it likely wouldn¡¯t be the last. Then again, Arla was never one to turn away a free lifetime supplier of experience, which in turn helped her to boost her standing within society. ¡°Right this way,¡± Mr. Tempora stated excitedly, his energy clearly getting the better of him. With that, Arla found herself within a well-established parlor. There was a hostess, surrounded by dozens of people who all looked as if they had no concern to be anywhere. That was their tell, they all tried too hard to not look at her and those who entered. Letting Arla know that this was a trap. Well not a trap, but an establishment under the full control and authority of this Precognitive man. There were subtle tells. The way the hardened warriors didn¡¯t so much as bat an eye towards the door, despite clearly having been trained to do so. Arla herself was impressed, as she had a hard time not following her instinct to look at those who come into an establishment herself. Which was why she spotted the personal restraint required for such a feat immediately. Only two types of people don¡¯t look at the people entering a room. Those that don¡¯t know any better, and those that do. These were all people clearly in the latter part of that assessment. ¡°Good afternoon, I take it this is the guest you spoke so highly of?¡± The cheery hostess greeted. Again, no one looked, a sign that they were all able to monitor the room in other ways. ¡°Good afternoon, indeed she is, please do not let anyone disturb us, while making sure to prepare our liner. I do not think this will take too much time.¡± Mr. Tempora stated. ¡°Will she be joining us?¡± The hostess asked, a bit unsure. ¡°But of course, she should already be on the docket. Look for Ms. Proma, cadet candidate for the Military Academy in Maralla.¡± ¡°Same as our Lazula?¡± The hostess asked excitedly as she turned to face the girl who had up until this point been standing right beside Arla. The girl, Lazula, just had the wherewithal to look somewhat sheepish at the sudden attention, but otherwise stayed quiet. ¡°Indeed, they will become the best of friends.¡± Mr. Tempora exclaimed excitedly, as if this was a story that had already been written and the details would be made manifest for everyone. ¡°Very well then. Right this way,¡± the hostess began, but was quickly stopped by an quick hand. ¡°No need, this will be but a minute. Besides, I need you to prepare for takeoff.¡± Mr. Tempora noted, then before anyone could protest otherwise, Mr. Tempora led Arla back to an industrial safety pod. These were the type of escape pods trillionaires used to survive catastrophic attacks. They had temperature control, gravity control, air purification, and minor guidance operations. Additionally, they had the ability to fall from orbit into anything less than a fully condensed plus sized gas giant planet and have you able to survive long enough for rescuers to come and find you. Just being led into something this luxurious caused a number of warning bells to go off in Arla¡¯s mind. ¡°Relax, I am already aware of what would happen should I try to kill or permanently injure you either directly or indirectly.¡± Mr. Tempora began. Arla was about to ask, ¡°what?¡± Until not one but two of her previously hidden traits for her first power became known.
Soul Power [Permanent Support]: Ignite (S) Can ignite one true potential power, up to Ignite ranking, of anyone. : Creates a sympathetic bond with awakened recipient, where igniter receives 10% of overall experience gained by awakened recipient. : Creates a sympathetic bond with awakened recipient, where igniter receives 25% of all Attributes increases gained by awakened recipient. : Can have multiple sympathetic bonds active at one time. : No distance limitations on gains provided by sympathetic bonds. : Purposefully killing or maiming you sympathetic bond holder will result in loss of Ignite ability.
With that, she was now down to just one last hidden piece of knowledge that would allow her to fully comprehend what her power meant. Once that happened, she would have a chance of being able to increase her overall competency in her Ability as well. Also, some of the percentages that she had should increase, but there was no true knowing exactly when or what that last one was. Arla flinched at the sight of the chance to lose her power. Though it made sense to her, as she could honestly feel the connection she made to everyone she Awoke, meaning the loss of power being related to that aspect also made sense. ¡°Oh, I see you, had not guessed that. Well don¡¯t worry, you were close,¡± the slender man consoled. Though it was clearly an act, one last spotlight on the statement that he knew the future and that he was here to hit Arla with her own deal. ¡°Now then, would you like to hear what I first have in store as payment for Awakening my daughter?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked. Arla felt her eyes grow tight, as she thought she already heard the payment, but realized there was one part that was still missing. ¡°I would,¡± Arla confessed. Smiling brightly, Mr. Fortuna reached into his pocket and then pulled out a large golden gem. Seeing the gem, Arla understood this to be the peak of magical expertise. The gem was no ordinary gem, for it was made and created from a master practitioner of Light Energy. ¡°Good, it seems you already know what this is, now are you willing to take this?¡± He asked. Just peering into the stone, a strange golden energy pulsed out and seemed to stare directly into Arla¡¯s soul. Almost as if on reflex, she felt herself drawn to the glowing stone, one that was in Mr. Fortuna¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°Go on, touch it, it¡¯s not going to bite,¡± he said with a smile, though it would do a lot more than bite, of that Arla was certain. Still, she couldn¡¯t help herself as she found her own hand reaching up to touch the invaluable gem, a note of want in her eyes. Chapter 5 Widdershins Chapter 5 Widdershins ¡®Cogs, short for precognitive, those who can see and predict the future are tough, for they know roughly how you are most likely going to act at any given certain stimuli in a particular moment in time. Take for instance the showing of an invaluable jewel that upon touching will fuse power into your body and apply random powers of a given element, in this case the element of Light, and nine times out of ten you have a completely compliant person in this operation. The operation in this case was something that Arla herself wanted. As the task to get such a priceless object, one that could be used, sold, or bartered for was something she wanted to do in the first place. For in this particular instance, she was clearly dealing with one person who she had previously established a permanent connection with, one where she received a permanent stream of Attribute and Experience bonuses from everything they did after meeting her. Which given his current prowess and seeming rise to power and fame was quite a lot, even at her reduced rates. Then add to that, the fact that all she had to do was once again create such an innocuous bond with this ¡®Cogs¡¯ daughter and one could see the appeal. Arla would almost do this for free under normal circumstances, thus why she now found herself hesitating. Almost immediately Marcon¡¯s words rang out in Arla¡¯s mind, warning her of the gravity of such a situation. Monkeys can be caught in simple traps, because they refuse to let go of the bait, Marcon¡¯s eighth law. This was a law that Arla had to be show, about how indigenous hunters would find a dead tree, hollow out the insides, and then leave only one spot where a hand or arm can reach through into the hollowed out portion. From there, the hunter would take a piece of sweet melon into the hollow and leave. After time, the monkeys would come, drawn to the fragrant scent of their favorite foods, then reach their hand into the small opening, grab the treat, and then promptly find that their clenched fist was too big to exit the container. Arla then watched as the hunters would come back, laugh, and get right next to the primate. Though scared, and realizing that they needed to leave, the primate would never think of letting go of the treat to escape. It was a valuable life lesson for Arla, and one that she suddenly remembered with crystal clarity. The fact that this memory of all the others came to her as she reached towards the glowing stone flashed a warning in Arla¡¯s mind. This was her Cerusian instinct, something she could not understand before, but now she did. Instantly, Arla realized three things. First, she needed to gain control over the situation with the ¡®Cog. Never an easy task, particularly when she was already in their well-prepared lair and scenario. This whole situation spoke volumes of needing to rely heavily on Marcon¡¯s training for just such a situation. Second, Arla realized that she needed to bind the daughter to her, if for nothing more than needing to have some form of promise that the daughter would try to keep her alive, or at least not actively seek her death, like the father. This didn¡¯t mean that they would be friends, for even now, Arla could tell that this was clearly an advantageous position for Mr. Fortuna, not that she couldn¡¯t win in this scenario. If Mr. Fortuna was completely above board and altruistic this would be ideal, but life was never ideal and Arla was too old and jaded now to start believing in the altruism of others. This of course led Arla to her third major goal, she needed that stone. She couldn¡¯t sell it, as all her trainings taught her. A fistful of cash is always appreciated over a handful of illegal items and all, but in this case, Arla would not sell the item, regardless of price. All of these thoughts flashed in her mind, as she swore for a moment, she could almost see the end of this whole scenario. It was as if her mind momentarily shut off, or went dark, as she for a moment imagined avoiding the glowing org. It was a brief moment, one that Arla chalked up to being a ploy. For this was a trap by Mr. Fortuna, but she would easily escape. Before she left, she would apply a seal to the daughter, gain the stone that was being taken away, fuse with the power of the stone and then leave. These moments flashed through her mind in an instant, some so quick she could hardly register them. But they were there nonetheless. This only seemed to further Arla¡¯s assumptions that she was in fact working with a ¡®Cog right now. For only a ¡®Cog could create such a stone or have one clearly in their open palm and not have it begin to dissolve almost immediately. Instantly, Arla realized she had already broken the ninth of Marcon¡¯s laws. Find a mark, lest you become the mark. Looking around, she saw Ms. Fortuna occasionally making nervous glances in her direction. This could show a sign that she felt nervous, which she did, for whatever reason. That said, such emotional distresses were easy enough to fake, Arla knew she had done such acting in her past. In fact, she was an adept at Projecting her own emotions. With Marcon¡¯s Ninth Law in mind, Arla quickly took on the persona she needed to survive. In the span of two steps, Arla took a deep breath, which she used to take on a regal position, and projected strength and confidence. Even going so far as to willfully break eye contact with the glowing stone that pulsed and radiated energy in micro bursts towards her, as if beckoning her the way a kraken would lure ancient ships at sea. Smirk. Seeing her sudden change, Mr. Fortuna smiled, a sign that he had expected this outcome. This was fine, as it meant the true dance of power was about to begin. In this case, Arla made her way around Mr. Fortuna, further entering the space time equivalent of a panic room, and proceeded to prowl around the now seated Ms. Fortuna. Gooseflesh. As Arla approached Ms. Fortuna, there was an obvious stream of chills that ran down the girl¡¯s back at her intimidating presence. This was good, as it was clearly something she had not been prepared for. With the daughter not prepared, it meant that the father had not deemed this a lesson to train her to be prepared for. This was one of the tricks needed to beat a ¡®Cog at their own game. As she looked from the daughter, back to the father who was still smirking, but his smile was forced. He strode forward to close the distance between the two of them, but it was clear he was now slightly off put by the fact that his daughter now rested squarely in between himself and Arla. This was good, as this was a scenario he had not expected. The reason for this lack of expectation was simple, as it was one of the actions Arla was least likely to do normally. An outlier of actions, Arla often preferred to play the role of the meek, to be underestimated. But in this case, she went the exact opposite of her normal options, she was taking control of the situation, and thereby providing stimuli that the ¡®Cog was now using and trying to get ahead of. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Even now, Arla could see a faint golden tint to the eyes of Ms. Fortuna, a clear alias name that would likely change no less than three times before the next port. Still in the role of the dominatrix, or the one who would exert power over the situation, Arla placed her hands on the back of the couch, right behind where the daughter sat. Instantly, the daughter leaned forward, away from Arla, and then turned back to look at Arla. From her periphery, Arla could see the look of fear in the girl¡¯s face, it was clear that if Arla wanted she could strike out now. In fact, Arla prepared to lash out, infusing energy into her hands, thanks to her [Support- Temporary] Spirit Infusion. Sizzle. Instantly her hands burned deep finger gouges into the upholstery of the couch. This caused immediate fear to rise up from the daughter who all but tried to leave the couch. Only a hand raised by the father stopped her. ¡°No need to worry, Ms. Proma here was just making a point,¡± Mr. Fortuna said, his tone filled with faux confidence and regality that hit that just right tone of aristocracy that one would expect from new money. ¡°I believe you have made your point loud and clear, no one here is debating your lethality,¡± Mr. Fortuna continued, his tone picking up more confidence the more he spoke. Switching gears and personas, Arla let out some of her previous rigidity to her spine and took on a more neutral posture. Once again, Mr. Fortuna¡¯s eyes glowed, as he once again tried to make a read of these new changes that were occurring. Whether Mr. Fortuna was aware that Arla could see his use of his powers did not matter, and whether this vision was a byproduct of their clear soul union, or a function of Arla¡¯s Cerusian heritage bleeding through, or a combination thereof was almost impossible to tell. All Arla did know, was that this was what she needed to do, in order to stay ahead of Mr. Fortuna. For all powers had a tax to them. Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, just altered. That same principle is what governed the use of powers. By forcing someone as powerful as Mr. Fortuna claimed to be, to constantly use their powers, she would drain him. ¡°Let me guess, you intend to keep draining me, to force me to use my energy over and over again, until you achieve what you want?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked, apparently seeing this very fate in one future timeline. Arla tried to imagine a scenario where this would happen, when she would tell what she had done and why. It wouldn¡¯t be here, meaning she would either be held captive, or she would have told the daughter her plans in the future and that would be relayed back to the father. Either scenario didn¡¯t help, but it did show that he was currently using these powers beyond just today. Hmm. That was all Arla gave, as she again changed, this time reaching up to a seemingly innocuous looking button on her suit, where she then pressed and provided enough of her [Crafting- Permanent] Spirit Infusion energy into the button to cause the rune to light up. This was done while she carefully placed her hand over her heart and bowed silently. Everything done as misdirection and in complete silence. The silence was another tactic for a ¡®Cog, as it meant that she was not actually engaging in the conversation, making future readings just that much more difficult to read. A lot can be gained by word choice, tone, and intonation, by her refusing to provide these for building points, she also countered the ¡®Cog¡¯s natural advantage. Again though, to Arla, the most important part was the misdirection. To Arla, the blazing rune looked like she had placed a torch on her chest. Yet, neither the father nor daughter seemed to notice. It was a cat and mouse game, one where Arla¡¯s only real goal was to be able to escape with cheese. The fact that the ¡®Cog had not reacted violently yet, could be due to a number of reasons, but the most likely of which was that he would not do anything to Arla, until her services had been rendered. Of course, waiting for this too was in Arla¡¯s best interest, for the longer she waited to perform the necessary bonding act with the daughter, the theoretically safer she was. While she knew the ¡®Cog would not directly try to kill her, this did not negate the acts that Marcon had spoken about to her, the reason why everything had to be misdirection and a game. Rumble. ¡°Ah, that should be the crew putting us on our own direct liner that will take us straight to the Military Academy in Maralla,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. At that Arla could only nod, if she had machinations of leaving, then she needed to make them quickly. A glance at the door showed that the room was hermetically sealed, and already prepared for space travel. They were trapped, just the three of them. While there were only three life forms in here, that did not negate the idea that robots or other instruments of death were not waiting to be activated. Glancing around, Arla could see no less than three potential candidates, the oddly ordinary book on the table, likely a auto targeting pistol that would be able to handle a standard clip, lest the device was modified. To the top right corner, the one facing the entry way was another spring loaded weapon system. Then there was what had to be a bot within the couch itself. Looking down at the burnt away upholstery, Arla could see the faint traces of metal, something that would be excessively uncomfortable, even with layers of thick foam padding. The only reason why someone as supposedly rich as Ms. Fortuna would have such a couch was if it was a mini tank, one that would create a protective capsule around the daughter. This would explain why Mr. Fortuna was adamant that the daughter stay on the couch, despite the obvious provocation. Such a couch would be hard for most to detect, but it almost stood out to her heightened senses easily. This was another quirk of the Tribal blood within her, part of what made her people such fierce warriors, as they could enter a room and instantly note where all the attack vectors were. While Arla had not yet recognized all of the hidden defensive components in the room, Arla now praised her instincts, one that told her to go behind the couch. An apparent metal couch that could protect her from both the gun book on the coffee table, and the hidden defensive machine gun by the doorway. From here, all she would have to do was disable the couch, which she was fairly certain she could accomplish in time. Still, Marcon would have been mad that she hadn¡¯t immediately recognized all of the traps first, and gone to the location as part of the plan. Instead, she now found herself here out of what one could mostly call dumb luck. Though was it luck, or was it something more? Peering back at Mr. Fortuna, Arla could see his glowing eyes once again at work. Though now he too gave away the three defensive armaments in this saferoom. No wait, Arla saw the faintest flicker of an eye to her left, Mr. Fortuna¡¯s right and then she saw it, a complementary but off-set defensive turret. This one was hidden inside a breakaway brace for a bookshelf. The off-set defensive turret was a unique design that seemed to specifically target humans and creatures that like symmetry. By having an off-set, that is a weapon that would hid on an opposite side, but at a different elevation, or location from noted markers, the human eye was more likely to overlook such an anomaly. Noting one, but not the other. In this case, the off-set structure of the secondary door and room protection turret had done its job. Again, showing Arla just how outmatched she was in this situation. Inwardly she winced at the find, even letting her own admonition that she had not noticed the fourth protective measure. While the couch she was currently behind would still block shots from the off-set turret, it would have been nice for her to expect fire from that side as well. With that, Arla gave a quick glance behind her, but found that she was safe from behind. This was meant to keep unwanted intruders out, and not necessarily quell any uprisings from within. Good to know. Taking one last glance at the daughter, Arla once again tried to access if she would be a threat. Her mind told her that she needed to always treat her as a potential threat, but her rational mind told her that she wanted this transaction, more than Arla wanted a safe ride to Maralla. Again, so many threads of thoughts went through her mind, as she wondered how Mr. Fortuna knew she was heading to Maralla. The most obvious reason was that he was a ¡®Cog and quite powerful, but there almost seemed to be something deeper to the thought. Glance. Looking at Mr. Fortuna, Arla once again glanced at the glowing orb from within his hands. Pulse. Just looking at the orb, Arla felt a surge of energy go from the orb to her. Visions. Just glancing at the orb, and its spiraling cacophony of power, Arla knew she needed that orb. Chills. Even with a couch separating her from obvious trouble, she knew she had to have that orb. Which was why she now found herself fighting so desperately to keep space between her and Mr. Fortuna. ¡°You really want this don¡¯t you?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked, that same confident smile filling his face. Deep breath. While Arla could hide her emotions, she knew that the more she gave off, the more Mr. Fortuna would feel in control. ¡°Here, I will place this right here,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated, reaching forward and purposefully placing the orb right on top of the book. A book that would come to life and fire a clip of pulse infused bursts directly into her if she was noted as a threat. Seeing Arla¡¯s obvious hesitation, Mr. Fortuna nodded to himself. ¡°You know, I know how this will all end,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated, sitting back in the single seat that sat directly across from the coffee table, and the couch that held the daughter, and served as the only form of protection for Arla. Then as if to show his complete confidence and safety, Mr. Fortuna sat back in his chair and then languidly placed his feet up on the table. Swoosh. In that moment, a number of things all happened at once. Events transpired, in ways that Arla could only see and expect by yet another glance at the strange mystical orb. An orb that almost appeared sentient in Arla¡¯s mind. Or maybe it was something deeper, a calling of the magic held within, something that was hinted at in her Cerusian studies, but something that was never stated. In fact, it was only a theory that Arla herself came up with, but when asked if she had any questions, she just shook her head too afraid to ask a question that had been plaguing her. Looking into that orb, Arla found herself wondering what would have happened had she asked her Cerusian test provider that very question, was magic truly alive? Then before the forgotten memory had a chance to bloom within her mind and completely dull her senses to the current moment, things happened. The arrogant Mr. Fortuna plopped his feet up on the table. This placement caused a minor shuffle and vibration, as the book jostled just slightly, causing the orb to role ever so minutely. Then seeing his action, Mr. Fortuna saw his mistake, withdrawing his foot, thereby causing more vibrations to the table. Vibrations that caused the orb to gain enough inertia to roll forward. At which point the ball seemed to gain some cognizance on its own, as Arla could almost feel the energy shove hard against its smooth crystalline container, before rolling forward, off the table and directly under the couch. For a moment, everything seemed way too orchestrated, too perfect, as even now Arla could see the ball glowing brightly from under the couch as it seemed to gain speed and roll forward, before stopping at Arla¡¯s foot. The entire thing seemed too perfect, a setup orchestrated by Mr. Fortuna. Yet, his look of shock on his face at the odd stream of events seemed to speak that even he had not seen this set of circumstances. Seeing the orb all alone and rolling at her feet, Arla found herself reaching down to grab the orb. As she reached, she swore she could see waves of golden energy splashing around the container and violently reaching towards her. The moment her hand touched the orb, she felt the crystal shatter, something that was not supposed to happen. These crystals were supposed to be drained away and then left to be refilled, the fact that one broke was unheard of, even the low grade ones were only low grade due to how much energy they could maintain. Yet, this one clearly had ampules of energy stored up and waiting to be used. Pain. Not only did the orb shatter, but she felt parts of the orb violently burst as it surged forward, with crystalline shards of shrapnel piercing her hand and allowing the streams of golden energy to fuse directly into and through her skin. The energy itself also seemed to act oddly, as if it was attracted to her. Idly, Arla remembered her button that she activated, the one that would react to Light energy, and hopefully make it harder for Mr. Fortuna to read her future, but this was different. At least, it was different from what she had expected. As the highly concentrated energy of Precognition infused Light energy entered her body, Arla instantly felt her mind shatter, or split into thirds. In a second, she felt three distinct but linked timelines all coming together and converging on this one moment, before refracting outward. Instantly, she felt she could see the world as a Precognitive could. She could see her past choices, that all led to now, and the future that was all but inevitable based on where she was now, and what she had done. Pausing, she experienced the whole of the future, before she found herself acting and reacting in the past and future as well. She even got a system message informing her of the new changes she now felt coursing through her.
Light Power [Broken-Permanent] Unbound Time Vision: User can view events in time as reactive events that lead to a permanent fixed outcome in the future.
With this new power, Arla felt her mind bending and twisting. Her vision felt like it was beginning to alter, as she felt herself becoming unbound by the linearity of time. Chapter 6 Arla鈥檚 First Alignment of Reality Chapter 6 Arla¡¯s First Alignment of Reality ¡°To predict the future, one must first understand the past, how that got them to the present, in order to understand the future.¡± ¨C Dr. Urisiah Hylinch The Past <7 Years ago, an 11-Year-old Arla> ¡°Why is she here?¡± The new patient asked, he was a tall skinny man who looked oddly twitchy for someone in his position. Marcon, seeing the gesture, followed the man¡¯s outstretched finger and saw Arla there standing in her own smaller lab coat, and mask. Looking at her, it was clear why anyone would be frightened of the girl, for she had deep bewitching Cerusian eyes that almost shone like frost. Then her hair, even with having applied the dye what two, no, three days ago, her roots were showing. Not that the roots were showing everywhere, which would have been more annoying than anything, but the fact that they did seem to note or hint at her odd parentage was a problem. ¡°It is Take an Apprentice to Work day,¡± Marcon replied, his response instantaneous. ¡°I don¡¯t want her here, I don¡¯t want her to see this,¡± the man stated coldly after seeing the girl who had done nothing other than stand by patiently in the corner with her hands clasped tightly behind her back, her posture straight, while others yelled at her. Seeing her stand there so stoically, Marcon couldn¡¯t help but be proud of the girl. She¡¯ll make one Hell of a soldier, he thought to himself not for the first time as he realized this would have to be her future career path. While he wouldn¡¯t wish that life on anyone, he couldn¡¯t help but feel that this would be the best thing for her to do, given her unfortunate set of circumstances. Realizing the man¡¯s persistence, Marcon mentally switched gears and then went for the Lab Tech approach. ¡°Look, I didn¡¯t want to say this, but the kid is a wizard with electronics, getting them to work when there is seemingly no hope for them,¡± Marcon stated. ¡°Well yes, that is to be expected, she is one of those monsters,¡± the man continued. WHAM! Before Marcon could even pause himself, his protective instincts took over and he swung his fist right into the odd man¡¯s jaw as hard as he could. Crunch. As soon as his fist collided, he felt an all too satisfying crunch on the man¡¯s jaw. Rage filled Marcon¡¯s face as he desperately tried to control himself, and his anger. ¡°One, two, three, four¡­¡± Marcon began counting out loud, a sign that he desperately needed to calm down. Gentle touch. Only the feel of a small set of cold hands grabbing hold of his still clenched fist let Marcon relax enough. He knew whose hands those were, the same cold calming hands that spoke volumes without ever speaking a single word. Pausing mid-count, Marcon took a deep breath and looked down at those same frost blue eyes that he fell in love with so long ago. There was an entire pleading and conversation that was held between the two at just that gaze alone. Seeing her stare, and furrowed brows, Marcon could read her thoughts almost instantly and then nodded to himself. Then turning back to the man who was cowering in the chair as he gripped his jaw and looked at Marcon in fear. ¡°Look you have fully pre-paid, I am willing to give that all back to you, no questions asked this one time on account of your unforeseen medical expenses. That said, if you want this, then shut up and let me do my thing.¡± There was a brief pause, as the skinny man looked at Marcon and seemed to read volumes with his glance. Shaking his head, the man through a clearly broken jaw spoke in broken words, ¡°do it.¡± With that Marcon just nodded to himself. ¡°Assistant, start charging up the equipment,¡± Marcon demanded. Without even a word, the little girl who had been so instrumental in getting Marcon to calm down began flurrying about, fusing energy into a light stone that had its energies amplified and directed straight at the patient¡¯s chest. The girl even inadvertently brushed her hand against the patient¡¯s own, causing a note of revulsion to go down the man¡¯s body. He didn¡¯t want her near him, as he knew what she was, even a watered down version was too much for him. As he looked at the girl who was now directing the light source that was designed to look like a futuristic laser right at his midsection and crotch, the man began to panic. Then his eyes went wide with recognition as he saw the stone for what it was. Wait, that is just a heat stone? Then before he knew it, Marcon went over his body fully directed the ¡®laser¡¯ before moving it all around. ¡°How does that feel? Does it feel like your powers are awakening within you?¡± Marcon asked, his voice gruff. At first the man wanted to protest, but then paused himself as he realized while the light source had done almost nothing to him, as he knew what an archaic glow stone was and looked like, for he had one of his own. It didn¡¯t work, and his could never have powered something that vast, he had to admit that he did feel something shifting within his body. The patient with a broken jaw was about to say no, that he knew nothing had happened, as he began to shake his head. ¡°Oh, why don¡¯t you pull up your status screen first, before responding there,¡± Marcon insisted, his voice close to anger again. Hearing the command for what it was, the patient annoyedly opened his Status screen and then baulked at the sight that was before him. There he had not one but two powers maxed out to the S-Class, just as promised.
Primary Power Light Power [Permanent Support]: Precognition (S) Can see the future of all native species of the universe.
Secondary Power Light Power [Permanent Support]: Phantasmal Burst (S) Can condense light into a power source capable of emitting destructive bursts.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Seeing the messages himself, Marcon just nodded. ¡°Not many ¡®Cogs that survived the war,¡± Marcon noted. At that the skinny man just nodded, a look of sadness filling his face. ¡°Good luck, realize that you can see the future of everything from this universe, but nothing that the Harbingers do,¡± Marcon warned, as he helped escort the frail man out of the lab room. As soon as they were gone, Arla came out from her corner and began deconstructing the entire setting, knowing they would need to likely use many of the same props again later. When he came back, a somber Marcon stood there at the door and just watched Arla go about opening shipping crates and unpacking materials so they fit perfectly into the tight storage spaces. Seeing her work without having to be told, Marcon just smiled proudly to himself before going over to her. Then as he got closer, he could see that she was oddly tense for some strange reason. ¡°Look, about that guy, he¡¯s just a jerk. He doesn¡¯t know you,¡± Marcon explained. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Arla responded, her voice clear and hearing her words Marcon knew that this was not the issue then. ¡°So, what has you bothered?¡± Marcon asked. Arla paused, as if trying to give her thoughts time to percolate. Then finally she responded with a question that floored Marcon, if only for a second. ¡°How do you know if you are being watched magically?¡± Arla asked. Looking around, Marcon instantly looked towards the runes around the room. Given how gifted the girl was, it was not beyond the realm of comprehension that she could see if even the most powerful scryers were noted by her observations. ¡°Do you know who might be watching us?¡± Marcon asked. Arla just nodded her head, ¡°yes, I think I¡¯m watching myself, but I don¡¯t know why exactly?¡± At that, Marcon just stared at Arla and was utterly lost for an answer. *** The Present Whoosh! The minute Arla¡¯s hand touched the orb, her body and mind began processing the foreign energy and melding with it almost perfectly. In that instant, Arla could feel that a new power had somehow registered within her body. Not a full power, but a partial or broken power as most seem to refer to ones that are at such a state. Arla was still bent down, letting the large back of the sofa that held her patient, which was good as it meant she had cover while she fought to regain control over her body, while her mind sent out streams of power to the past and present, in a way that brought her back here, to the present. To this moment. Movement. She moved, or at least she tried to stand up, only to feel three versions of her moving, the past that was hesitant to move. The Present that was where she was, and the future, where she was going to eventually move her hand. This was but a microcosm of her new power, as she worked to gain control over her own mind and body. The only problem was that with it being a fractured power, it could either be more or less powerful than a real version that covers the same. ¡°Do you know what I have found to be most interesting?¡± The client, Mr. Fortuna began, his words almost echoing as her mind quickly worked to bring together all three states of being into one coherent thought. There was a slight pause, as no one, not even the daughter answered. But this was okay as Mr. Fortuna continued to converse with Arla through the couch, as if she was actively engaged in the conversation. ¡°That, there are a few points in time when changes can happen. Two times, I found that my future would change. Darling, no doubt you are aware of my time before I fully awakened my powers?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked. This time it was his daughter, the future client, who responded. ¡°You told me bits and pieces, but I don¡¯t know what you want me to respond with currently.¡± The teenager responded. ¡°I broke the law, which you are aware of, as I intend to have you undergo the same situation here. What you might not know is that I was effectively shut out of my power. I was a middling D-Rank Precognitive, but I had more, I knew it, my parents knew it, and so I pushed myself daily to find a way to fully unlock my true potential.¡± The Father continued. ¡°I began trying everything, elixirs, concoctions, working out. Everything and everything that had been reported, I tried. Then after the first few attempts almost killed me, I became more and more cautious. It was only once all options were exhausted, that I found myself hearing from word of mouth about a possible cure. A traveling broker would be stopping into town, and they performed miracles.¡± Mr. Fortuna continued, the longer he spoke, the more time Arla had to recover. Though she did not rise above the lip of the couch, content to give herself more time to recover and wait for what the old man had next in store. It was clear that the orb had been purposefully dislodged towards her, she was confident of that, even with the awkward positioning and seemingly randomness of the exchange, it was now clear that Mr. Fortuna had orchestrated the whole event, but why? ¡°It took months, I spent a fortune on finders fees, people to vouch for me, and then there was the actual operation itself.¡± There was a slight pause here, as the man brought back the memory and almost seemed to be reliving that exact moment in time. ¡°Do you know what they did?¡± ¡°No?¡± The daughter asked. ¡°They infused energy into a dead Cerusian heat rock. One that had likely been out of power for millennia. This little girl came over, touched it, and turned it on, causing an intense wave of heat. It was all misdirection, as the light and head had nothing to do with anything. Even my powers of Precognition at the time were telling me that this had nothing to do with what was going on. But yet, I still managed to fully Awaken my powers at the time. Not just the full capabilities of my Precognition power, but my defensive power as well.¡± He stated the last part conspiratorially, as if it was a secret that only the two of them would have. Despite Arla being right there to hear everything. ¡°Wait, you know¡­¡± the daughter cried out, even turning her head to peer over the side of the couch at the still crouching but fully recovered Arla. ¡°Oh, I know. What do you think did this to me, A heat rock? Or someone who would change the very balance of power in this universe,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. Hearing that, Arla¡¯s worst fears came to life in her mind, as she realized this was the exact scenario that Marcon warned against. ¡°What does that mean?¡± The daughter asked. ¡°It means, that this person behind you, is the one person who could help us finally conquer the Harbingers, once and for all.¡± ¡°What? That old wives¡¯ tale?¡± The daughter quipped. ¡°They are real, in fact, that is why we are on this very trip right now. So I can prove to you both that they exist,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. Whank-rink-whank. Then at that very moment, as if choreographed perfectly, the internal alarms began to blare loudly. At that Arla¡¯s eyes flashed up to see that indeed all of the lights in the protective cube had been set ablaze. Click. Then by the pressing of a button the opaque walls of the safety cube suddenly pulsed with energy, as their structure changed, allowing for everything that was not a solid object to appear, showing the area outside of the protective cube, were even now, unimaginable monsters were boarding the luxury liner that had been housing the security vault. Looking out into the hull of the ship, Arla could see a giant breached hull, which served as a landing point for hundreds of the grotesque and insatiable creatures that made up the Harbinger faction as a whole to appear. Seeing the giant hole, it was clear that this ship, regardless of whether they survived or not would not be space worthy. It also meant that things had suddenly gone from bad to worse. But it was okay, as Arla began scanning the room once more to see her options. There were indeed plenty of food and ration supplies available. But most importantly, the automatic weapons that Arla had seen on her way in were still there, meaning she had an option to defend herself. And options were always welcome in circumstances like this. *** The Future <6+ Years from Now, a 24-Year-old Arla> Arla stood outside the commander¡¯s office, her space suit immaculate, despite having spent the past fourteen hours in straight transit from the Military Academy to her first duty station. Taking one last second to look over her uniform, ensuring that nothing from her rank, to her badges denoting professions, to her appearance were anything less than perfect. This was her first time meeting her new commander, and while she didn¡¯t expect to be seen in a positive light, she did expect to have to be forced to prove herself constantly. Which was why, she took the extra second to look over her uniform and ensure that everything was perfect and to Federation Military Standards, which it all was. Rap-tap. As was customary, Arla gave the customary two tap on the door of her commanding officer, and then straightened her back to attention and waited. ¡°Come in,¡± a familiar voice called out, though she expected this. Immediately upon command, Arla turned the nob, entered the room and presented herself right in front of her receiving commander. ¡°Commander Hylinch, Lieutenant Proma reporting for duty,¡± Arla said rendering a salute, a copy of her orders already sent, she had the commands preloaded to be transferred once she executed a salute. Beep. Then like clockwork, as the hand reached her forehead for a salute, a copy of her electronic orders were sent to her new commander. Commander Hylinch was about to say at ease, when she noticed the simultaneous arrival of orders and the salute. Glancing at the new incoming officer, she took her in. The girl was average height, maybe a smidge over at about 170 CM. Her uniform as Hylinch had been expected was perfect. As her eyes scanned up, Hylinch noted that the incoming officer had not one but two powers listed, though there was a third that Hylinch knew about perfectly well. Then looking up to her face, Commander Hylinch saw the same stoic face, the same piercing ice blue eyes, but this time something had changed. ¡°You stopped dying your hair?¡± Hylinch asked, her question pointing out the fact that now her one raven black mop of hair was now a lustrous white silver that looked oddly majestic on her face. ¡°Yes, I am Fortunate enough to now be a full-fledged citizen of the Federation, and stationed out here at the edge to fight against the Harbingers, I realized getting and maintaining the fa?ade that I am something I am not would be pointless,¡± Arla explained. ¡°Pointless?¡± The Commander asked, purposefully avoiding the obvious annunciation of Fortuna, the contrived alias that her father insisted upon using when first meeting the odd woman before her. ¡°Yes, I am now a full Citizen of the Federation, as of now, even if I am proven to be incompetent or noted for dereliction of duty, I will be a Citizen of the Federation, even if that requires me to spend the rest of my days in Federation prisons,¡± Arla noted, her words not challenging, but highly self-aware, which was what Commander Hylinch expected from the top graduate of the doctoral class. A top graduate who, while sporting many breakthroughs and course records was passed on by everyone as their first choice of soldier. Which was how Commander Hylinch found the chance to once again be reunited with the normally calm and stoic woman who had seemingly become more and more attuned to her Cerusian heritage, at least if her now full head of silver-white hair was anything to go from. ¡°As your commander, and given our location, I am forced to ask this to everyone who comes in that door. But this duty station is designed to be the first line of defense against Harbingers, meaning you will be tried and tested in combat against the deadly foe. While the rest of the Universe is content to forget that the Harbingers even exist, it is our duty as soldiers to allow the peaceful citizens of the Federation to rest easy. So I will ask, are you prepared to fight Harbingers?¡± Commander Hylinch asked, this was a standard question given to all incoming soldiers, and was her way of vetting out the weak from the strong. Those that thought the Harbingers were just fictitious monsters from times long past. ¡°I guess we will have to wait and see,¡± Lieutenant Proma replied, her voice confident as she stood there waiting for what will come next. Seeing that the Lieutenant before her didn¡¯t even flinch, mock, or heckle at the comment, Commander Hylinch just nodded to herself, before continuing her customary speech. ¡°I guess we will.¡± Chapter 7 Harbingers Chapter 7 Harbingers ¡°I have seen many things in my time, but nothing as impressive as a Cerusian War Maiden who has gone full executioner.¡± ¨C Private Recounting of the Harbinger Incursion The Past <13 Years Ago, a 5-year-old Arla> ¡°You did good kid,¡± Marcon exclaimed as he affectionately patted Arla on her head. The task that she was currently being praised for had been simple, it was to read the letters of the Cerusian alphabet that lit up and cause the light to shine brightly. According to experts the test was nearly impossible for those without Cerusian rods and cones in their eyes. These were of course different from what traditional humans, Beastkin, and other native races of the universe had at their disposal. To Arla the task had been easy, for she only had to apparently read half of the symbols that were present, as only half lit up. Added to that was the fact that those that did light up were even easier to read, which made the whole process much easier. ¡°Now as I promised, since you managed to get this chapter down, you can ask one question that I will have to answer truthfully and honestly,¡± Marcon noted. Hearing that Arla smiled inwardly, though her face could not show her emotion, lest Marcon try to change the rules of this game. Still there were many questions that Arla had, which was good as the book they were given had a total of twelve lessons, meaning Arla would get twelve answers. Part of her wanted to work ahead, as the work was easy. But she decided to stop, to pretend that it was tougher than expected, so Marcon might be more open with the answers he provided. Still there were twelve questions that she would be able to ask, which was why she started with what she considered to be the most important. ¡°You ready to ask your question, or do you wish to work ahead?¡± Marcon asked. Arla took only a second before shaking her head, ¡°I wish to ask my question now.¡± ¡°Well go ahead, the floor is yours,¡± Marcon noted with his characteristic half grin filling his face. Not even wasting a beat, Arla asked the question. ¡°How did you meet my mother?¡± Immediately upon hearing the question, Marcon tensed up, the traces of his smile going away, as he looked like he had been gut punched. ¡°What, why do you ask that?¡± Marcon asked, feeling that the question had come out of nowhere. That or he had expected her to be focused on something else entirely. Arla for part just stroked the leather covering of the Cerusian text she had been given. A text that seemed to have many of the mysteries of the world explained within. ¡°Right, she gave you the text herself. Though you weren¡¯t supposed to know that was her.¡± Marcon admitted, though his voice seemed to ring with words of forced power. As there was more to this statement than Arla originally remembered. Originally, she only remembered the ¡°Right,¡± before Marcon eventually broke down and answered. Even then, there was just a faint echo that there was some form of connection to her and the book, now she had the answer for certain. Arla for her part just stared at Marcon, not allowing herself to get baited into asking a different question that he would then answer immediately as the question. Nor would she let herself get distracted by his usual antics that were easy to get caught up in, if you didn¡¯t realize. ¡°You really want to know this?¡± Marcon finally asked. Arla just nodded her head. ¡°Fine, I met your mother at the start of the Great Harbinger War. A war that has all but been swept under the rug as little more than a police action at this time, due to how quickly we managed to resolve the threat posed by the Harbingers. I met your mother, when she was assigned to our elite platoon of soldiers as the Cerusian reinforcement. Needless to say we were underwhelmed by the number of troops provided,¡± at this point Marcon got a distant look to his eyes as he stared off and began continuing to answer. ¡°In fact, their perceived lack of resources being provided to the war effort, and the fact that the Cerusians were the only group that was part of the Harbinger war to not join the Federation is why they are mostly despised to this day.¡± Hearing that Arla¡¯s eyes grew wide, but she caught herself before she blurted out any more questions. ¡°Needless to say, we were wrong. We were all wrong, that one Cerusian soldier, your mother she was worth more than ten of our platoons combined,¡± then Marcon trailed off, as he seemed to remember something. ¡°She even saved my life. That was how I truly met your mother, we were out on a mission, completely surrounded by Harbingers, hundreds of them. I was being overrun, that¡¯s when your mother quickly engineered some contraption to her back, and went in guns blazing. Normally the weight of what she had created would crush her, but she was in space, her natural element, meaning she had no fear, for Cerusians are a space race above everything else.¡± ¡°I will say that that was how I first truly met your mother, when she saved my life from being devoured by a horde of Harbingers,¡± Marcon concluded. Then like that, the spell that had bound Marcon and forced him to bear his true thoughts and feelings was over. Arla for her part could almost feel like she was there, experiencing that exact moment with Marcon. In her mind she even tried to figure out what her mother could have welded together to create such an apparatus. Her mind had a few ideas, but it was clear that Marcon himself might not know what truly went into that particular construction. ¡°Was that worthy enough of an answer for you?¡± Marcon asked. Hearing that, Arla just nodded her head vigorously. ¡°Let me guess, due to that, you have more questions?¡± Marcon asked, as he did that same cocky smile came to his face. Arla of course nodded her head, for who wouldn¡¯t have questions after that. ¡°How about we use the next two questions to first explain what the Harbingers are? Then we can use the second question on how to kill the Harbingers, especially the way your mother killed them, which was an entirely different process¡± Marcon posed the idea as the next logical evolution of their discussion thus far. Hearing his proposal, Arla just tensed up and squinted her eyes at Marcon, knowing that he was diverting away from the true topic she wanted to know about, her mother and her relationship with Marcon. ¡°Whoa there, easy with those eyes killer,¡± Marcon exclaimed in jest, ¡°we have twelve full chapters, meaning you have eleven questions left. Surely it would be worth two of those questions to figure out why your mother of all people was stationed with little ol¡¯ me right?¡± Arla paused, her gaze still piercing into Marcon¡¯s knowing smile. With each second Arla stared at Marcon, she could feel her resolve slowly crumbling away as she was curious about these Harbingers, especially the way her mother managed to kill so many. ¡°Fine,¡± Arla hissed out, as she opened the book, and began speed reading through the chapters. In no time she had the light for the second chapters ablaze with light, then flipping forward, she continued reading the words that became more and more complex, but her mind had to know the answer. Which was why she totally lost sight of the con she had been pulling, or the one she had tried to pull on Marcon. ¡°What¡¯s this? Were you sandbagging me?¡± Marcon noted in faux outrage as he just clutched his chest and pretended like Arla had wounded him severely. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Arla for her part just glared at Marcon, as the light at the end of the third chapter also glowed brightly. ¡°You sure you want answers? I mean wouldn¡¯t you want an ice cream cone or something?¡± Marcon asked. Arla just glared. ¡°Fine, fine. You are far too cute when you are all riled up,¡± Marcon exclaimed as he reached forward and rustled Arla¡¯s hair before giving out the answers. ¡°Okay what was the question we agreed upon?¡± Arla again just glared. ¡°Right, right. What are Harbingers? Well to be clear it is a catch all phrase for creatures that come from other parallel universes and have made their way to ours. This transfer in status is why the Harbingers don¡¯t have the great system in them, nor do they have¡­¡± Marcon began but trailed off. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t know about the great system nor how it activated did you?¡± Marcon asked, his mind going wide as he realized yet another question that Arla would burn away. Arla paused for a second, and then shook her head. ¡°Would you like to know why we all have the system, and why we can gain strength and power after an awakening?¡± Marcon asked. Arla paused, her mouth going wide, this too was something she had wondered about, for how could Marcon be so strong. Finally, after a second Arla nodded in agreement. ¡°Okay, so after I finish this question, we will go to how to kill Harbingers, then on what Metachondrial are and how they are the awakened form of mitochondrial,¡± Marcon stated, his smile wide as he seemed to use up yet another of Arla¡¯s questions. ¡°So now, where were we? Oh right, Harbingers aren¡¯t a singular species, but a whole conglomeration of creatures that seem to have appeared out of nowhere¡­¡± *** The Present Crackle. Just when everyone thought they would be safe, one of the casting Harbingers let loose a burst of irradiating heat. Immediately upon contact with the outside wall of the protective cube they were in, the translucent film that had shown the universe around the cube began to sizzle out. Now this did not mean that the cube lost its structural integrity from that blast alone, but it did send a wave of panic through the daughter of Mr. Fortuna. ¡°My dear, if you are feeling worried at this point, then might I suggest lying down and melding with the mechanoid couch you are sitting upon?¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. ¡°Right,¡± was all the daughter said, before her head lowered down, and the shadow of her feet from under the couch disappeared. At this point, Arla realized just how much of a setup this entire operation was. For a moment Arla contemplated disabling the couch mid-transformation with a highly concentrated burst of her energy. It wouldn¡¯t do much, other than overload the couch and prevent it from sealing properly. Yet, that was not the immediate concern. Her concern was the lack of air. Fortunately, Arla had been wearing her space suit, which meant with a quick tug of the helmet over her face, making sure to lock the condensation respirator under her eyes so her goggles didn¡¯t fog up, and a quick touching of her seals and activating her Cerusian air purification rune that was sewn into the inside of her suit and she was fine. The entire process took only 15 seconds, slower than her best time, but the immediate reactions took over thanks to all the constant training Marcon always put her through. Even now she could remember him calling out, ¡°if you want to sleep without your mask on your face, you need to be prepared to put it on even in your sleep.¡± Words to live by, not quite robust enough for a rule, but close enough given how many times he made that exact statement. A quick cursory retracing of her finger over the neckline of her suit, where she made sure to infuse energy to the sealing portion of her modified Cerusian space suit and she was ready for even the deepest depths of space. While her suit did not look overly large compared to those of traditional Federation soldiers, hers had a self-healing function. Well, not quite a self-healing function, as Arla herself had to initiate the process with her Spirit Infusion (S) power, which made it so activating all Federation standard enchantments, and even dormant Cerusian runes were possible. This meant that her suit, if ever punctured, pierced, or cut would only need a quick application of her energy, and the material would begin to weave itself together almost immediately. This was why she went for the sleeker, form fitting Cerusian suit model, versus the bulkier industrial models of the Federation. While the Federation did have better protective barriers, hers had layers within layers that could seal up and be made operational in minutes, as opposed to the hours required by the Federation suits. With her suit¡¯s integrity confirmed, Arla began moving. No longer was she worried about being stabbed in the back by these two, for they were in the process of having both the luxury chair that Mr. Fortuna sat upon, along with the couch that was now transforming into a miniature battle suit, Arla was fairly convinced that this was not a trap for her. Still, even if it was a trap for her, Arla realized that her next actions would help ensure it wasn¡¯t a masterful trap for her after all. Infusing energy into her hand, Arla made a blade like material appear just at edge of her fingertips. With the spiritual blade infused by her offensive utilization of Spirit Infusion, Arla went to the left hand wall. Well the wall to her left, the original right hand of the entry way. There she jabbed her hand forward at the base of the wall. She aimed at a spot two inches down from where the battery pack of the off-set plasma cannon rested. ¡°What are you doing?¡± The screeching voice of a terrified daughter cried out. Her voice amplified and almost deafening due to the modulation placed on her vocal tones due to the mechanoid unit¡¯s rebroadcast. Still, despite the pain, Arla didn¡¯t stop her actions. Instead, she lifted her hand up the two inches, bowing out the base of the wall. A base that would have flopped away once the plasma cannon came to life. With careful and practiced grace, Arla began cutting off parts of her power to individual fingers, while slowly cutting away the cannon¡¯s connection to the wall, while not damaging the powerpack at all. Most would pause, or at least hesitate when performing such delicate operations, knowing that even a slight miscalculation of the energy applied to remove a battery from the wall could result in a secondary explosion at best. However, Arla was filled with the knowledge of the universe, not only was she aware of Faction training and maintenance, she could feel the intuitive Cerusian side of her consciousness also telling her what was right. Arla of course was too engrossed in her own operations to even give credence to the frightened words of the daughter, Arla¡¯s future business partner. Instead, she just focused on first removing the oversized cannon from the wall, draping part of the wiring over her shoulder, the way one would grab an industrial strength shop vac hose and let it dangle over your shoulder before cleaning up a particularly grungy area. In this case, Arla, was busy, modifying her suit to help hold onto this deadly weapon. By touching and applying a bit more energy, she caused the film of her outer suit to grow up, over and around the battery pack that now rested on her left hand side. The cabling hose that connected the power supply to the plasma cannon was also partially sealed under the suit. Not completely, but enough to make it so Arla did not have to keep touching the cannon out of fear that it would fall off her shoulder completely. With the first cannon secured, Arla went over and began doing the same to the alternate side, with the first plasma cannon that Arla noticed upon entering the room. ¡°Stop that!¡± The woman exclaimed, for a second Arla paused as she could feel her senses telling her that the girl was about to do something stupid, like set off live rounds within the sealed container. Fortunately, for Arla, Mr. Fortuna was there, and he spoke as if he had expected this to happen from the start. ¡°Calm down my dear, and if you are patient, you will get to see one of the true marvels of the universe?¡± ¡°And what exactly is that, other than this person ripping up our cube and making us defenseless here,¡± The daughter exclaimed. Chuckle. ¡°You are in a fully protective top of the line Mark V Centipede space suit that can alternate as a decorative couch. You have nothing to worry about. Also, why you are here. Why the both of you are here, is so that you my darling can see something truly amazing.¡± ¡°And what exactly is that?¡± The daughter asked, her tone calmer, even while Arla was in the process of ripping apart the wall again and tearing out the components for the second plasma cannon. ¡°You get to see firsthand what a true Cerusian War Maiden is capable of in a fight,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. Rattle, rattle, rumble. With that, more and more of the outside world faded away as the energy-wielding Harbingers all continued to direct more and more bursts of wild energy towards the protective cube. ¡°Will the cube hold?¡± The daughter asked, fear evident in her tone. ¡°Not a chance,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. ¡°So how are we going to survive?¡± The daughter asked, fear evident in her tone. Arla for her part could almost feel the mocking smile of Mr. Fortuna piercing into her back. ¡°I¡¯m going out,¡± Arla said. Then snapping her fingers, something that was tougher to do in a space suit than she had intended, Arla used her primary power Ignition (S), on the spoiled princess. This way the princess would be less likely to shoot her in the back. Arla didn¡¯t know what powers the girl would get, and honestly, she didn¡¯t care. The girl was on her own, and Arla would try to avoid these two from now on. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, I¡¯ll find my own way out,¡± Arla stated calmly as she began breaking through the various mechanical overrides that the protective door had. Being on the inside this was a lot easier than other times Marcon made her break into such devices. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to hear about what happened to Marcon?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked. Hearing that, Arla inherently flinched as she looked to the smug business man. Seeing his smile, it was clear that he had some information on Marcon, that or he was really good at bluffing. Realizing that this trip had been a complete bust, complete with a broken power that seemed to link moments of the past, and future all at once, Arla was fairly certain she could have done without this whole process to begin with. ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Arla stated, as she clicked out the last of the major support beams for the safe door. ¡°You don¡¯t want to hear about him, at all?¡± ¡°No, he¡¯ll tell me when he¡¯s ready,¡± Arla spat out, and then before Mr. Fortuna could spout out any more of his snake oil sales pitch, Arla burst open the door, leveled her two plasma cannons and began quickly blowing through the horde of multi-sized Harbingers who were now surrounding the protective cube. As she left, she closed the door, that once again showed a clear image of the one girl firing two industrial sized plasma cannons from her shoulders. ¡°How can she do that?¡± The daughter found herself asking. ¡°Well, now that the hull of our main ship is breached, the gravity compensators are offline, meaning those cannons are effectively weightless out there.¡± The two watched as the girl made her way quickly and accurately through the horde of enemies. Somehow making sure to target the casters first, before focusing on each and every enemy present. Watching her, the daughter could only stare on in awe at the spectacle. Then finally the daughter asked, ¡°just who is Marcon?¡± Snort. ¡°Let¡¯s hope that you never have to find out.¡± *** The Future <6+ Years from Now, a 24-Year-old Arla> Knock, knock. No sooner had the newest Mechanical Lieutenant admitted to their base leave, than Gerund Commander Hylinch¡¯s executive officer (XO) knocked at her door. ¡°Come in,¡± Commander Hylinch declared. With that Executive Officer Gerund came in, quickly saluted as per protocol and then just stared at his commander. ¡°You have questions?¡± Commander Hylinch asked. ¡°Yes, why did you waste so much political clout on moving up the rankings list to get her?¡± Executive Officer Gerund asked. At this Commander Hylinch just let out a devious smile, as she looked at her XO, trying to get his full measure. ¡°You doubt my choice?¡± At the question, Gerund shifted slightly in place, before ultimately nodding to himself and pushing forward. ¡°Yes, by all means she is average. Barely passed with a Mechanical doctorate, despite being a Cerusian. Also, there is the fact that her hair and eyes clearly show she has no regard for our regulations.¡± ¡°First off, there are no rules or regulations that cover the natural hair or eye color of an individual soldier in the Federation. Secondly, what do you mean she is average?¡± Commander Hylinch asked, clearly curious about this notification. ¡°From every record I found, it showed that she barely passed each of her Engineering and Mechanical related classes, despite her obvious racial proclivities towards being mechanically inclined,¡± Gerund stated, clearly noting the inherent stereotype that all Cerusians were gifted with a mechanical acumen that far exceeded societal norms. With that Commander Hylinch just nodded to herself. ¡°Let me pose it to you this way. You clearly don¡¯t want her here do you, despite what you think she might or might not be able to do?¡± The Commander asked. ¡°But she can¡¯t the transcripts prove she is menial at best,¡± Gerund exclaimed. Hearing that Commander Hylinch just shook her head. ¡°You are looking at this all wrong.¡± ¡°Am I now?¡± ¡°Yes, you are looking at it from the perspective that she should have dominated the standings of her graduating class, while being expelled for unknown reasons, right?¡± ¡°I well, I, yeah¡­¡± Gerund found himself agreeing with that, as it was clear he would have failed her out on some technicality. ¡°Then think of it as she was so good, that despite preconceived biases, they gave her a doctorate in spite of their biases,¡± Commander Hylinch concluded. ¡°But this still doesn¡¯t explain why you wasted so many resources to effectively pick the first overall choice of graduating cadets, if you were going to waste it on her?¡± Hearing that Commander Hylinch just smiled a coy knowing smile. ¡°Perhaps, we shall just have to wait and see what she is truly capable of then.¡± Chapter 8 Luck, Accuracy, Swiftness Chapter 8 Luck, Accuracy, Swiftness ¡°They say a switch gets flicked on in a War Maiden¡¯s mind when they encounter a Behemoth and survive. I have to tell you, they aren¡¯t wrong.¡± ¨C A Soldier¡¯s Recounting of the First Federation War The Past <5 Years Ago, a 13-year-old Arla> Pop. Pop-op-pop. Arla moved and fired her weapon rhythmically, just as Marcon had trained. Her shots, the groupings, everything was perfect. She moved slowly. How Marcon had found such an out of the way backwater planet to practice fighting against Harbingers, Arla never knew, though she did have her suspicions. There were too many old tells just laying around. Amongst the roaming packs of Harbingers that looked to be sucking the planet dry, and slowly killing off every ecosystem the planet had, there were signs of the life that once lived here. Rustle. To the left the sounds of monsters moving could be heard. On instinct, Arla already began moving her blaster left and aiming straight towards the sound of the movement. Of course, it wasn¡¯t a regular blaster, as her blaster had been modified with Cerusian runes. That was why when the first of the four legged and two armed serpentine creatures raced around the corner of an abandoned Germano-Federo building, Arla took almost no time to aim her weapon and fire. Pop-op. Two swift rounds shot out, the first striking the beast upper left of its chest, and the second going straight into its brain. Slide. Instantly the shots had their intended effect on the lead monster, as it collapsed into a heap almost immediately. This served as a buffer, for Arla now had a moment to focus on the second pursuer, and quickly take aim. Unfortunately, the second attack, a similar if slightly larger variant of the four-legged two-armed serpent fighter, had its body in profile to Arla. This meant that Arla either had to wait, or go for a double penetration shot to the chest to make sure a round found the heart of the beast. With her choices in her mind, Arla didn¡¯t hesitate. Pop-op-pop. Another three round burst, two back to back at the same spot in the chest, with the last to the head. Arla¡¯s movements were so quick and precise that she found her senses relaxing slightly as she quickly checked the surroundings for any other signs of life. A notion that was supported by the sounds and actions that happened next. Skitter-slide. This time just like last time, the body of the Harbinger dropped and slid next to the body of its fellow brethren. Silence. There was nothing, no signs of life, and especially no signs of Marcon. Occasionally, Arla wondered if Marcon was in fact here with her, but he would often show up when things got too stressful. But only as a last resort. Realizing the coast was clear, Arla walked over and found herself emptying five more high energy rounds into the beasts. Normally, most people would focus on ammo conservation, but Arla¡¯s Secondary Power, Spirit Infusion, made the idea of conservation of ammo pointless. Once Arla was certain that the two beasts below her were dead and there was no chance for them to regenerate and come back to life, Arla decided to move on. That was the thing about the larger and more powerful Sextappendicula Serpentis, the unofficial name for the six appendaged monsters that can regenerate when you leave either the brain or heart alive and undamaged. Arla looked, and paused, seeing the odd reddish energy of the monsters slowly fade away. Once they were dead, Arla nodded to herself, and prepared to move on. Click, click, click. However, before she could move, Marcon made his presence known, by sounding the official end mission sound. While she still had to keep her eyes open for any last-minute attacks, the sounds indicated that Marcon and his surveillance equipment could not detect any nearby enemies, be they Harbingers, or humanoids. The sound also indicated that Marcon was on his way, and should not be shot at, he did get angry when he was targeted by friendly fire. When Marcon noted that friendly fire was the most accurate, Arla received further rebuke by noting this was a given, since she was the one providing said fire. Her runes all but ensuring the accuracy and precision of each shot, had it not been for Marcon¡¯s secondary power, one that effectively made it so he could shrug off any form of attack, Arla would have been worried about the man. Instead, all she did was stand around, looking at the now cleared Harbinger controlled city on a planet whose ecosystems would take generations to get back to a livable level. Shuffle-step. As Marcon approached from the rear, he made sure to announce his arrival with a slow boot grinding shuffle that almost seemed to echo off the dirt that covered the once pristinely maintained city roads. Roads that now led to more of nothing, and only showed glimpses of what would be left in the wake of Harbingers. Arla waited, continuing to scan her surroundings, while also watching Marcon. Occasionally he tried to pose as the mind-influenced teammate who had to be taken care of. Fortunately, Marcon either saw the glare and remembered the way she fully unloaded on him last time he tried such a stunt, or that was not a lesson to be learned this week. ¡°So, what did you learn?¡± Marcon asked, this was the way he always began these After-Action Reports AARs with Arla. At first Arla had been hard pressed to come up with answers, but now she had an observation that had been bothering her for quite some time.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°I learned that they can notice me, and that they are attracted to me, for some odd reason.¡± Arla noted this was part of her new ability, to look back and not change the future, but change what was said, her reactions to different events. This would never impact her current timeline, but did help her gain a deeper understanding of things that she only now recognized as important. Marcon just tightened his jaw, the gesture small, but there. To most people who didn¡¯t know Marcon and spend most of their time watching the man daily, they might miss the tell. But to Arla, that tell, that small gesture was as close to him admitting that he knew something and was currently debating whether he should tell. Seeing the gesture, Arla pushed. ¡°I also noticed, that I can spot them, almost sense them,¡± Arla concluded, wondering if that would be enough of a push. ¡°You can do that?¡± Marcon asked, awe and confusion mixing in equal measure on his face. Arla just nodded. Biting his lip, Marcon debated for a moment before nodding to himself. The war of whether to tell too much alleviated for a moment. ¡°That is part of why the Federation now tries to distance themselves from Cerusians. Apparently the more powerful of a Cerusian you become, the more desirable you are to the Harbingers, all variations of them,¡± he explained vacantly, as his eyes seemed to stare off into a past memory that was still too close and personal to be ignored. Arla was just about to push, as that was good to know, but still didn¡¯t explain anything. ¡°There is more to it, we can build this talent of yours up, help you to notice the monsters sooner, but there will be a consequence,¡± Marcon noted. Hearing that, Arla was intrigued, for she never knew that Marcon was aware of such techniques. Still there was a question, of whether these could apply to her current timeframe. *** The Present Arla moved, her mounted twin barrel plasma launchers feeling weightless in the recesses of space. As she moved, she felt her mind reaching out and finding the biggest threats, the Harbingers that were the most destructive. Fip-fip-fip-fip. Pop-op-pop. While both mounted barrels were the same vintage and caliber, Arla used both in different ways. With her left, she went about providing a clean sweeping motion with the barrel going into overdrive to strike out at each monster in her immediate presence. Simultaneously, she used her right hand to guide and focus at the leaders and more powerful monsters in the back of the formation. These were the plasma sprayers for the Harbingers. These were the space variants of the Harbingers, the ones whose exoskeletons were able to withstand the pressures of space. The good thing about these versions, was that they had a harder time regenerating, once their exoskeletons were pierced. This was why there wasn¡¯t as much of a need for Arla to double tap each space Harbinger, instead she just focused on creating as large of a hole in their bodies as possible. The backline plasma hurlers were no different, as they were not yet prepared to shift to defense, which was great for Arla, as she used this time to strike down the more powerful hurlers first. Just as she had practiced with Marcon, her movements were crisp and fluid, seamlessly transitioning from one attack vector to the next. Arla also used this time to once again regain agency over her own destiny. Right now, she, like the other two Fortunas, were stuck in the middle of space, while their ship had been seemingly driven into a Harbinger blocked warp channel. Why an allegedly powerful ¡®Cog would purposefully steer their vessel into such an ambush was beyond her. There were arguments to be made that ¡®Cogs could not predict futures that involved Harbingers, but that seemed to not be the case here. Or not exactly the case, for it was clear that Mr. Fortuna had clearly expected something, given the protective measures taken, but still seemed to be off by the way things were currently unfolding. The look of shock on his face, particularly when the outside viewing of the chamber was interrupted clearly concerned him. It was as if he had felt okay to view everything before then, but the moment he got hit a little, he began to panic. That was when Arla began to move. Not just to get out, but based on the fact that it was clear that Mr. Golden eyes was unable to predict what would happen. The first thing Arla did was clear out the enemies on the back side of the cube. Then using the walls and protective outer coating of the nearly indestructible safety pod as a shield, Arla began moving and flowing seamlessly. Mental tingle. Though as she moved, she felt something beginning to come to life within her mind. Almost like a new set of eyes, or she was suddenly able to see the world in a new color pattern. Suddenly the world around her began to lighten up. Immediately next to her, she saw the glowing red trails of energy flowing from the bodies she just mowed down. Then moving to clear one corner of the cube, one that would give her a direct line of sight on the invading horde and their ship that they used to ram into the hull of the transport vessel. The same transport vessel that had up until a few moments ago been directed by Mr. Fortuna to deliver the protective cube to the Military Academy in Maralla. Of course, that was only if Arla believed everything that Mr. Fortuna said, which she was currently of the persuasion that she wouldn¡¯t believe they were in space, if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that she could see the vastness of space caused by many of the various ripples in the hull of their vehicle. Nor could she deny the weightlessness of gravity on her body that let her move about freely, with only her magnetized boots helping her keep any form of connection to the hull of the broken transport vessel. There was also the smell, or maybe it was a certain lightness that she felt while in space, a certain feeling of home, that she could only truly feel while out in space. It was a sensation that was hard to describe, for she often felt that there was a smell that could only be experienced while in space. Some water rich planets had it, or could mirror the effects of this smell with the crisp morning air smell that came after a nice warm rain. That scent, that was the smell that Arla now experienced and felt as she deftly made her way over and around the cube, only to stop a foot away from clearing the corner. Normally, training dictated that she surge past and continuously fire as she moved around an enemy occupied corner. But she halted this time, for something in her told her to stop, to step back. Following her instincts, she did just that, and found herself backing up, just in time to see the largest Harbinger she had ever seen, angrily stomp forward, right to where Arla had just been standing a moment ago. The monster was huge, easily twenty feet tall, bipedal with thick ancient tree trunk like limbs that were all char black, like space. Added to this were the veins of the monstrous creature that seemed to pump and distribute glowing red energy streams of energy. Arla had only seen these twice before, the first time she and Marcon had to run. At the time Marcon gave her a direction and a rally point, where Marcon broke off, gained the beast¡¯s attention and distracted it away from her. The second time, a time after Marcon¡¯s second power was activated, Marcon just smiled brightly as he finally got his chance at a rematch. At least that was what he said at the end, when Arla asked why they hadn¡¯t run. Well Marcon hadn¡¯t run, even though Arla had been told to retreat back to a safe position where she could watch, without Marcon worrying about hitting her with friendly fire. This time though, things had changed. Seeing the beast, Arla thought about running, but then out of the corner of her eyes she saw the translucent wall of the cube, where not one but two of her awakened resided. Being so close, Arla paused, realizing that she too had fantasized about taking down one of these Behemoth class monsters. To make things even more enticing was the fact that this one was still young, likely trying to prove itself through combat, which explained the weaker war party. If left alone, the Behemoth class monster would likely leave and likely come back twice as strong for the next time it chased her down, and it would chase her down. She knew it, for she felt something click within her mind and soul. Something that forever tied her to this monster, as she felt something erupt from deep within her mind, body, and soul. Deep within her body, she felt an odd protective rune crumbled to dust just beneath her skin. Seeing the rune come to life she felt she could read the complex rune. Or at least a majority of the rune, Deep Hiding. Seeing the rune, a myriad of images came to Arla¡¯s mind. For a moment she remembered strange hands touching her as a small baby. Then just as quickly that memory was immediately dissipated, as her mind told her to focus on the present. That¡¯s when something deep and ancient within her body came to life.
Dormant Cerusian Superpredator Identified Warning: You have been marked by a Superpredator, you will forever be stalked by your ancient enemy.
Cerusian Quest Class Originated: Kill the Cerusian Superpreadtor (Youth): You must kill the Superpredator before it becomes too powerful and hunts you down from the depths of the universe and beyond. Rewards: Awakened Cerusian System.
Seeing the message, Arla felt that she was right where she needed to be, at this exact moment in time. Smiling at the announcement, Arla finished replenishing the two distinct power cells for her modified long barrel turrets and prepared to become the true hunter. *** The Future <6+ Years from Now, a 24-Year-old Arla> ¡°Right this way, I will be showing you to your assigned station, Lieutenant Proma,¡± the Staff Sergeant, McMichals, who clearly looked out of his depth while talking to Arla. Currently she was in her form fitting suit, which clearly showed off her curves and definition, a fact that the young and apparently lonely Staff Sergeant quickly picked up on. This was something she and all the women had to be briefed on, particularly those going to a remote planetary system like this. The training went something like, for the case of wanting to get pulled back from a rim protection post, don¡¯t even think about it. All females are required to take birth protection, while any males who don¡¯t similarly take contraceptive methods will be met with sever punishments, up to and including time in the brig, and mandatory extended sentences out on the aforementioned rim bases. ¡°Well, I guess I should give you the highlights, of being here. We are currently on a minor moon of Galbindust VI, a gamma rich gas giant. Our base is on the dark side of the moon, facing away from the planet due our base¡¯s positioning at the pole of the planet. This is done to both help out our Polarity, and Magnetically focused fighters, while also providing limited protection against radiations from the planet. Also, a little known fact, due to our location here, and the way the enriched gamma rays spiral past us into space, we are actually afforded an extra level of protection against most known scanning measures used to track units,¡± Staff Sergeant McMichals continued. Hearing that Arla could only nod her head, as the Staff Sergeant was in full explanation mode making it so Arla could not get a word in edgewise. ¡°In fact, we are so protected out here, that despite having spotted a number of Harbinger flight paths and routes overhead, we have not been spotted by the enemy,¡± Staff Sergeant McMichals continued. Hearing that, Arla almost wanted to facepalm at the claim, particularly as she felt a very distinctive tingling sensation beginning to form on her neck. Pausing for a moment, Arla stopped her following of the Staff Sergeant who took two steps forward, before realizing that Arla, the person he was escorting was now staring up into the sky with a note of intensity. Seeing her, he involuntarily took in a deep breath, as he saw her ice blue eyes seem to glow for a moment, as she stared up into the night sky. The sheer sight of her eyes glowing like that, sparked memories of the war witches that would burn down entire planets to take out enemies. Seeing her tense up, Staff Seargeant McMichals found his voice catch in his throat as he just stared at the person who was clearly a monster wearing their uniform. Still, Staff Sergeant McMichals was always a professional, which was why he was able to finally regain control of his thoughts and tongue by asking the more neutral of questions, ¡°everything all right, Lieutenant?¡± Hearing his question, Arla turned her gaze from the stars back to the Staff Sergeant, when she spoke words that he would later regret ever hearing. ¡°I think you are about to see history being made,¡± she stated. Interlude I Interlude I Urisiah Hylinch, AKA Mr. Fortuna, and his daughter Lyria Hylinch sat in their fully customized combat suits. Suits that had been designed to look like customized furniture inside the most deluxe safety rescue cube on the market. A cube that Lyria had up until twenty minutes ago thought was complete overkill. Actually, to Lyria this whole operation had been a complete overkill. Everything from her meeting that that odd man in a doctor¡¯s outfit, to seeing that same man in chains, only to then realize that the chains were Illusionary cuffs designed to mask the wearer. Normally worn by celebrities who wished to hide their appearances from the public, but in this case they were apparently used to draw out the creepy girl in question. To her father then inviting said creepy girl join them. Well, the joining was under the pretense of fully awakening Lyria¡¯s Primary Power to S-Class, and then the equally absurd statement of her, then awakening a second talent up to the same level as well. There were of course only two problems with this scenario. First, there was no way to increase a Primary Power¡¯s Rank after being prescribed after the initial Awakening. Then Second, there was no way to awaken a quote-unquote Secondary Power. Yet, she had followed along like a good daughter. To her father¡¯s defense, he had been desperate to ship Lyria off to the Military boarding school for years. While Lyria was all for the benefits that having a Military Rank would offer her and their family, effectively prompting their family to upper-mid management level, she couldn¡¯t only feel that her father had finally snapped. What was it called, Precognitive Dissociative Disorder? The disorder where all Precogs inevitably look too far into the future too often and have a hard time differentiating actual timelines from what were the most likely scenarios? Precognitive Dissociative Disorder, or PDD was common with those with Precognitive abilities, that was why all Precognitives either lost fortunes, or could never gain fortunes to begin with. The idea that by looking into the future to make a play, they ended up changing the course of the very stream they were looking at. However, this was not the case for her father, who by some miracle had apparently gone from noting to everything. The true rags to riches story, but now it seemed that his luck had finally run out as they were both here in this tin can, waiting for the enemies to destroy them. Out here, so long as Harbingers were around, it would take days for rescue vehicles to find them. Days that even this protective cube might not be able to afford, particularly with how devastating the Harbingers were. Then in a matter of moments, several things all happened to converge at the same time. First the girl, the exotic Cerusian but not-a-Cerusian flipped a mental switch and began going full psycho on their cube, tearing up the walls, ripping out wall cannons, and then somehow infusing them into her space suit. Meanwhile, her father had chosen that moment to forcefully make it so that Lyria¡¯s own space suit activated, wrapping tightly around her. Vrrr! By the time the suit had been fully activated and transformed from a couch to a mobile mechanoid suit capable of space flight, if only in minor bursts, the crazy girl left, but not before doing something so odd and momentous that Lyria knew it would forever change the Trajectory of her life forever.
Warning: Ignition Brokered: Your power levels have been reassessed. Primary Power: Darkness Power
Name: Lyria Hylinch
Role: Magic Class
Primary Power: Darkness Power [Energy Burst]: Energy Disrupt (D -> S) Can degrade the energy of any attack hurled at you or around you, up to the level of your affinity. Note: Power level now high enough to rip away energy bonds of connected cells.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The updates were huge, before all she could do was at best be a minor disruptor for powerful energy waves that were heading directly towards her. Now though, now she could feel the change as if even those beams that were being hurled at the side of her protective cube were no match for her. Snap-crackle. Then feeling an impact of such a beam, Lyria realized that those beams being hurled against the cube were exactly that, powerful beams of Energy Disrupt that were so powerful that they caused minor distortions of power. But that wasn¡¯t the only miraculous change for there was more.
New Secondary Power Slot Available User can choose to fill Secondary Power Slot with a second Darkness attribute related power of S-Rank. Or you can choose to select a power from another class of magic, degrading at a rate of one Rank per field of magic you move away from your primary element: Darkness.
Seeing the message, tears formed in Lyria¡¯s eyes, as she realized she could finally gain the power and class she had always wanted. Not even waiting to see if she what options were available with the Darkness element, she mentally spun her Elemental energy dial to the left two spots to Life.
New Secondary Power Selected: Life Note: Maximum Life power affinity ranking available: B- Rank.
That would put her in the top 85% of all Healers, if she had a B-Rank power. Better still, she found that she could pick the power she wanted. Immediately she knew the power she wanted, one that was both rare and apparently readily available.
Life Power [Channeled Power] Limitless Regeneration (B): Can cause self and/or others to regenerate lost or damaged organs and vital points.
Not even hesitating to see if there were other options, Lyria chose the power and felt her mind connect to the world around her in ways she never thought possible. A process that felt like it took minutes, but seemed like it should take hours was actually over in seconds. In fact, before the crazed girl had even left the room, the changes were in place and Lyria had her new power strand coursing through her body. ¡°How is such a thing possible?¡± Lyria found herself asking as she felt her own body recovering from her personal use of Limitless Regeneration against her own body. Her mind so wrapped up in her own changes on a fundamental level, that she failed to register the danger she was still currently in. ¡°It is a matter of quantity over quality, I suppose. That many people with a mirror bonus of experience and Attributes that make her so formidable,¡± Urisiah noted, his voice distant as he seemed oddly whimsical. Hearing her father sound so relaxed for the first time in such a long time, Lyria couldn¡¯t help but notice. Then pausing, she looked to see that her father¡¯s mechanoid suit had now turned away and was facing the external wall. A wall that was now once again sealed, while displaying a soldier seemingly do the impossible. Watching her move, the girl was fast. No, not just fast, but accurate as well. Lyria watched as the girl managed to seemingly fire unrelenting automatic bursts from the rotating barrel plasma weapon. A weapon the dealer stated in no uncertain terms that the weapons would not work if removed from the wall. As if hearing her thoughts, or more likely seeing the future and reacting, Urisiah responded, ¡°no the dealer stated that the warranty would not cover us if we attempted to remove them, and that they had mechanisms in place to disable the barrels should anyone attempt to remove them.¡± Hearing the clarification, Lyria just nodded her head. It was pointless to get in arguments with her father, for it was often hard to realize if he was yelling at the current version of her, or preemptively yelling to prevent her from doing something stupid in the future. At least, these were the excuses he often gave when explaining why he randomly started confronting her, when she had done nothing. There was a silence as the two watch the fighter go wild, her eyes seeming to glow a deep blue. Thump, thump. Finally, the sound of a disturbance to the left side of the cube echoed out. These were the Spatial Anomaly detectors. Detectors that picked up a Black Worm Hole, technically this type of power was under the Darkness Element, but it was something that Lyria herself wanted nothing to do with. Partly for often only the caster was able to go through such portals normally, and mostly because when first testing out the powers many Black Worm Hole creators often find that they tend to create the worm holes too close to their body and end up ripping off their clothing. Something that sounds funny when you are on a planet, and just have to find a new set of clothes. While it takes on a deadly meaning when you find yourself jumping away to safety in the vacuum of space, only to find that your space suit was randomly removed due to your being in a hurry and not forming a proper escape tunnel. That was why, Lyria chose her Secondary Power to be Healing related. Not just Healing related, but one of the most overpowered powers. While she wouldn¡¯t be able to grow back full limbs or parts of missing torsos with her current version of the power, she could save many lives. Also, healers often weren¡¯t forced to join assault teams, unlike Darkness element focused magicians. However, her thoughts were drawn to the rather large and oversized monster that suddenly appeared. Immediately upon seeing the image outside, Urisiah clicked a button, which began the recording of the external images. For a moment Lyria wondered why, but then the answer came to her. ¡°A behemoth?¡± Lyria asked. Urisiah nodded at first, only to then speak once he realized his head was likely covered in the new protective mechanoid suit, ¡°yes.¡± That was the thing, every interaction with a Behemoth had to be recorded and immediately streamed on a public broadcast account. The reason being that Behemoths were known as planetary destroyers for a reason. While most Harbingers will get smarter and some might even exhibit the use of new skills or abilities after a few successful attacks, Behemoths were on a different level entirely. Able to regenerate from death like states, so long as energy remains. Able to mutate and mature based on more exotic DNA structures consumed, and able to lead more and more Harbingers the longer they exist. They were the perfect weapon of death, and it seemed that one had supposedly found them. Seeing the monster, Lyria found herself wondering if the pod would survive a behemoth. ¡°No it won¡¯t,¡± Urisiah answered. ¡°What?¡± ¡°No, we will not survive in here, if the Behemoth does not die here and now,¡± Urisiah responded, his glowing golden eyes seeming to refract in the view of his clear visor as he stared on at the carnage that was about to unfold. ¡°Should we leave?¡± Lyria asked. ¡°Just watch, and you will see our hope for the future,¡± Urisiah AKA Mr. Fortuna said, as he held up a mechanoid hand, indicating that his time for talking was over, as he desperately tried to read the future and perhaps attempt to change destiny once more. Chapter 9 Potential Chapter 9 Potential ¡°They are monsters of molten space metal. They can appear anywhere at any time, and all you can do is hope to get away alive.¡± ¨C A survivor¡¯s recounting From Encounter A Behemoth The Past <14 Years Ago, a 4-year-old Arla> ¡°Father?¡± A young Arla asked, seemingly unaware of her comments meaning. ¡°Don¡¯t ever call me your father, I don¡¯t now, nor will I ever earn that title. Just call me Marcon,¡± Marcon began, then he paused, ¡°or unless we are running a con, where you take on a role of someone else, but when it is just you and me, only call me Marcon.¡± Arla just stared at Marcon after that interruption, for a moment her face was little more than a mask. Yet, Marcon had been around her long enough to see the subtle signs of her trying to understand what caused this sudden outburst on his part. Shaking his head, Marcon continued. ¡°Sorry kid, I¡¯m still getting used to this role, but you had a question?¡± Arla just stared at Marcon for a moment, before eventually nodding. ¡°What is pot-en-t-al?¡± Arla asked clearly looking up and to the right. Seeing the gesture, Marcon instantly understood what was happening. ¡°You see a blue screen?¡± Marcon asked. Arla shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the one word. ¡°And it is telling you about Potential?¡± Marcon asked, this time making sure to spell out the word he thought she was trying to say. If this was the case, then this would be a miracle. If she had this now, then she would be an early-awakened, meaning she wouldn¡¯t need to have her powers kickstarted at all. This would mean she would easily have an S-class skill, or maybe an SS-Class skill. ¡°Yes,¡± Arla confirmed, what is pot-en-tial?¡± She pressed, trying to sound out the word similarly to how Marcon had phrased it. ¡°Oh potential is what your maximum limits in life are. It is how much you can expect to grow within your lifetime,¡± Marcon answered. Then pausing, ¡°what is the system saying about potential?¡± ¡°System?¡± ¡°The system is another name for the blue box you are seeing, what does it say about potential?¡± Marcon asked, his eyes locked onto Arla¡¯s as he tried to honestly answer every question she had. This was part of their deal, he would never lie to her, or try to deceive her, when it was just the two of them alone. Hearing this, Marcon felt honest hope, while he had been saddled with the repercussions of his own actions, it might be easier than he thought. Particularly if she had a high potential, then it would just be a matter of dropping her off getting her the correct documentation, then dropping her off at the correct establishments and this will all be a minor 90-day blip on his life. An anecdote to his friends, well who was he kidding, at this point he didn¡¯t have friends. He just had former acquaintances. So lost was he in this, his momentary dreams of not messing up this girl¡¯s life, that he almost missed the moment when karma dared to show her ugly perfectly proportioned face. ¡°Not en-ou-ff potential,¡± the girl said, her words tough to understand at first, but he had to give the girl credit, she could at least read well. ¡°Good job, not enough potential,¡± Marcon responding, correcting her instantly. Then his whole body paused as he realized what both she and he had said. ¡°FUCCK!¡± Marcon cursed, momentarily he lost track of where he was and more importantly who he was in front of. The girl, his ward, as he was now the only person in the universe who had any bearing to take care of the girl, just stared at him. She just stared at him, seemingly petrified, though her eyes showed an intelligence that spoke of fragility. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry kid,¡± Marcon began, then taking a breath to calm himself he continued. ¡°For a second there, I thought you would have a chance at a good life, but it seems that we will have to try a little bit harder to get there.¡± Marcon said, nodding to himself, then glancing down he saw that the girl had moved, though her face remained a blank mask. Seeing her, could only shake his head in jealousy at her ability to remain calm in such situations. Then again, he paused as he realized that she might not have a clue as to just how hard her life had become. Seeing her, Marcon realized he was about to do something he swore he wouldn¡¯t, he would lie to the kid. ¡°Scratch that kid, I lied. What I said earlier was one interpretation of Potential, but that is the older version. Your potential, that is your true potential is not determined by a system, but rather it is determined by how much energy you put into improving yourself that will define your true potential.¡± Marcon stated. The girl just stared at him blankly, her eyes blinked twice, either telling others that she was being abducted by Marcon. A quick glance around showed that they were still by themselves, so that was good. Apparently, the blinking meant she was still alive and having basic bodily reactions, that was good, as it meant that she wasn¡¯t out here trying to draw attention to the crazy man with terrets cursing at little girls, he thought to himself. Taking another deep breath, Marcon was able to completely calm himself down as he looked at the little girl before him. ¡°How much energy have you put into yourself?¡± Marcon asked, deciding to double down on this lie and make it a possible reality. The girl just shook her head, no. ¡°Exactly kid, see. How can you possibly have potential when you don¡¯t work on yourself. What, do you think the universe is just going to reach out and give you a free handout? That is not this universe, no matter how much we wish it was.¡± Marcon replied. Hearing the message, Arla just stared up at Marcon. For his part, Marcon paused clearly not knowing what to do, it was clear that this was his first time with this, and from every conceivable metric he had for himself he knew he was failing. ¡°Way to make a good first impression,¡± Marcon muttered to himself as he looked away, while trying to figure out what to do next. Hearing the moment, Arla felt her body move, reliving the moment she had so many times before. Then finally, she was able to move and change the scene the way she had always wanted to. The way she had been too frightened to try at first, knowing that she now depended on this man, a complete stranger to take care of her. Reaching out her hand, Arla grasped Marcon¡¯s own dangling hand. Marcon who had been completely lost in his own thoughts, looked down at the sudden clasp, then his eyes veered slightly further to the left where he saw the deep blue eyes of the little girl staring back at him. Seeing those eyes, Marcon knew his life would forever change from this moment onwards. Using his thumb, he gently clasped down on the little hand that was in his own much larger hand. ¡°Come on kid, let¡¯s go work on improving your potential, it¡¯s not going to fix itself.¡± With that Marcon turned and began walking, his hand gently pulling Arla along. As they moved, Arla could almost swear she saw a bit of moisture build up in his eyes. Marcon clearly missing the change in intensity of stares from the little girl attached to his hand continued speaking.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Have I ever heard about the rules to live by?¡± Arla just shook her head no. ¡°Well, the first rule is the most important. I want you to remember this now and forever¡­¡± *** The Present Seeing the message, about identifying a Behemoth class Harbinger, a creature noted as a Cerusian Superpredator, Arla felt a wave of intensity flood through her. In this moment, she realized that one of two fates awaited her. Either she died, or she would finally awaken her true potential, just as Marcon had noted. Now that the moment was here, Arla felt a cold sense of calm take over her body. She had worked for this moment, trained countless hours, bled gallons of blood, over and over. So that when this moment came, she would be ready. With the moment she had been waiting and training for finally here, Arla felt calm. Not excited, or jittery as she had expected, as she would have been before Marcon. No, this time, this moment, she was ready. And she didn¡¯t hesitate. RATTTA-TATTAT-TATTAT! With both barrels blazing of her modified long barrel turrets she released Spirit Infused burst after Spirit Infused burst. Not only was she using the Crafting version of her power to continually resupply her power cells. But she used the Support version of her Spirit Infusion to further weaponize each plasma charged burst that erupted from her cannons. The effect was exponentially more powerful than just a single application could be. With this the rounds had a concussive outer shell that burn and tore through the hard space-resistant carapace that the Behemoth supported. The only sound she heard was the minor vibrations that were transmitted through her space suit. Everything else was deadly silent, as all external comms were destroyed. On the main communications channel a faint electronic distress signal could be heard, but other than that faint sound, only silence reigned in the vastness of space. This meant that vision dominant species like humans had a clear advantage in space, for their bodies had been adapted to notice the subtle differences in silent terrains. Here in space, the lack of smell, the loss of touch, and the lack of hearing were all minor inconveniences that were overshadowed by the need to see in space. Which meant that Arla, with her 50% human genetic materials could see the microbursts of outer exoskeletons being ripped and burnt apart from the Behemoth¡¯s skin. The beast had apparently meant to take the time to mock Arla, as it just stood there, arms open wide. Seeing the odd gesture, Arla realized it was one of the Behemoth¡¯s traits. Part of their intimidation factor was to stand there and take as much punishment as an enemy could dish out, then when the attacker was either too tired to continue to attack, or lost their nerve and fled, that was when the Behemoth would charge forward and kill the weakened or fleeing target. While Arla was burning through her reserves at twice the speed as she would if she only used one version of her Spirit Infusion, rather than both, she felt good. Fine even, she had been through far worse. Had pushed herself to and through the brinks further and further, until she knew for a fact that there was no form of weakness in her. She would either stand here and continue to release blast after blast at the monster until it died, or she¡¯d just keep firing. There was no alternative. ¡°WAAHHH!!!¡± The Behemoth finally cried out, as two distinct lines and patterns and wound markings began to burn their way through the outer layers of the beast¡¯s carapace and finally release burning hot magma. At least that is what everyone called the bright red liquid that would burn through hull decks and uniforms if left to drip on an opponent. Here the magma would flow out from the wounds and instantly freeze once contact was made with the vacuum of space, instantly clotting the holes. An evolutionary effect that made Behemoths one of the undisputed powerhouse species of space. There of course was just one problem, the fixes caused by the coagulating Behemoth blood were shallow, and thus easy to disrupt. Furthermore, Arla kept firing in larger circles that first spiraled out, before spiraling back in. At first glance, one might assume that this was due to Arla having poor control over the weapons and their rapid rate of discharge. However, the effects soon became clear as wider and wider wounds began to bleed through, and heal instantly. ¡°How you all ever survived long enough to become a dominant force in space, I will never understand,¡± Arla muttered to herself, her voice being picked up on the open broadcast systems, but that was not a concern for Arla at this moment. At this moment, there was only one thing, the moment the Behemoth realized that it¡¯s indomitable protections were not enough to Finally, the beast had taken too much, and it was clear that Arla was not running out of energy, or becoming frightened of the beast. With the beast likely feeling pain for the first time in its miserable life, it began to move. Thump. Even through the void of space, the Behemoth made colossal movements with its feet. This was due to its ability to create miniature Black Holes, or similar effects that would suction energy into its body. Energy that would both seal it to an object or place, and later be converted into more fire magma blood. At least that is what the scientists all postulated. That said, while Arla used magnets, or Cerusian magnetization runes on her boots to gain traction in space. The Behemoth needed no such tricks, or maybe just its own set of unique racial tricks, as it just walked forward under its own odd powers. Arla for her part just continued to aim and fire, moving her barrels to anticipate the movement of the monster charging forward. Then as the beast charged, Arla let go of thoughts, of tactics. Those were only good for the initial contact, now that they were here, in direct combat, this was when her instincts took over and she felt a serene sense of cold adrenaline pump ice through her veins as she stared down the charging Behemoth and waited. ¡°Rule one,¡± was all Arla said to herself as she prepared for what was going to happen next. With that as her battle cry, she moved, pivoted a half step back, right foot. This was done for multiple reasons, first she didn¡¯t actually reengage the magnets on her right foot. Instead she used the still intact connection on her left foot to bend down and provide tension. This way, when the Behemoth charged forward, rather than activating the Suction rune on her right foot with Spirit Infusion, she instead surrounded her foot with the weaponized coating of Spirit Infusion, a subtle difference, but a difference all the same. The half step back, also caused a moment of adrenaline fueled excitement to course through the Behemoth, as it finally saw the signs it so desperately wanted. With the half step back, Arla gave the illusion of retreating, which caused the Behemoth to fully commit to its charge. Arla didn¡¯t need to the intense glow of the Behemoth¡¯s eyes change to know that it had gone berserk. As her mind already saw the changes. The way its movements became more chaotic and wild. The way it didn¡¯t seem to fully latch onto the floor of the open hull deck with its vacuum suctions. The way it focused more on lobbing its way forward, than maintaining one constant stream of contact with the ground. These were the signs that Arla looked for, and when the beast came within striking distance both made their moves. The Behemoth rose up, letting its body rise high from the ground, only to then activate two black voids that were directed at Arla. Voids that would pull her in, and create a suction that would be inescapable for a species in space to resist and flee from. However, Arla had no plans for retreat. Instead she too jumped, but forward. Disabling the suction rune for her left foot, she kicked off the ground, and found herself pushing forward with violent torque, as she kicked out with her right leg. Her body spun and torqued wildly, for a moment it looked like she might have over-kicked, might have completely missed her target. But that was when the voids of the Behemoth corrected her motion, pulled her back into trajectory, and allowed her to just swing over the outstretched clawed feet of the beast, and deliver one quick power infused strike to the beast¡¯s torso. A torso that had been ravaged by relentless bursts of energy to this point. Heat. The moment her strike hit the intended area, Arla knew her strike was true for she could feel the heat burning its way through. Fortunately, the Spirit Infusion worked also as a temporary protection from the lava-like blood, as the blood ended up coating around the extended energy her body produced. There was a minor stiffening of her foot, and while the weight of the new cooled magma coating on her foot would likely be excessive in a regular gravity situation, here in space it was negligible at best. With the kick applied, the monster that had been jumping into the air, found itself rising higher. Simultaneously, Arla found herself able to push back towards the deck. Immediately, her instincts kicked in, allowing her to activate her suction runes once more and once again regain positioning on the deck. At the same time, Arla once again continued to double fire her Spirit Infused rounds that were coated with a second layer of Spirit Infusion at the beast. What happened next was an exercise in persistence and tenacity. For Arla continued to fire round after round into the beast, each shot fired, impacting and further forcing the creature up into the vastness of space. Simultaneously the beast used its odd void suction abilities to try to pull it closer to the hull of the ship, and closer to Arla. At one point the beast tried to position its void-covered paws towards Arla, where it attempted to intercept the stream of energy heading its way. For a moment, Arla almost thought about shooting around the giant spheres, the reason being was that this was a primary fuel conversion point. Just as humans and humanoids ate through their mouths to digest food. Behemoths could use these spheres to grab energy and convert them into energy sources. However, Arla didn¡¯t try to avoid the spheres, for she assumed that like any digestive system taking in food and converting it to a form of energy the body could use would take time. Also, she knew that there was a limit to just how much energy a body could absorb at one time. That was why, rather than aiming around the spheres that drew in energy that had been aiming for the now vulnerable chest and torso of the Behemoth, Arla decided to fully unleash as much super charged energy into the beast¡¯s suction voids as possible. The effects were not trivial, first the impact to the spheres themselves seemed to cut back the amount of space that could be covered by them. That or, the Behemoth was so far away that the impacts made getting closer nearly impossible. What ended up happening was the beast, rather than dropping to the hull and crashing into Arla began to float away slowly. Meanwhile, Arla kept feeding more and more supercharged energy into the beast. Arla figured that this would be similar to a person drying from dehydration, trying to gain a drink from a fully operational fire hose. A hose that they were not able to look away from. In the end, Arla was right. With the beast effectively floating, or being slowly pushed back, and Arla¡¯s seemingly endless supply of ammunition, she was able to provide a constant stream of power to the beast. Finally, the energy was either too much, or there was so much that the beast couldn¡¯t contain it all. Unfortunately for the beast, it didn¡¯t seem to realize Arla¡¯s plan all along had been to out punish the beast. By the time it realized that it was in danger and tried to move, its central torso was already bloated with excess energy. So much that the wounds it had suffered before were now ripping apart, bleeding, healing, and then ripping apart again. Until finally, it burst. Supernova-Burst. Poof. Of course, Arla couldn¡¯t hear the sound of the creature exploding, but she could hear the sound of frozen Behemoth blood fragments scattering into the sky and raining down everywhere. Many of the specks pelted against her visor, temporarily blocking her vision, before her suits functions took over and began devouring or otherwise removing the particles. Deep breathing. For a moment, Arla paused, and finally found herself breathing heavily. Had she always been breathing heavily, or was that something her body allowed her to do now that she had a moment to rest? For a moment, she wondered if it was actually over. Only a system message let her know that the Behemoth had actually been killed.
Cerusian Quest Class Completed: Kill the Cerusian Superpreadtor (Youth): You have killed the Superpredator (Youth) before it became too powerful. Rewards: Your Cerusian System is now activating.
*** The Future <6+ Years from Now, a 24-Year-old Arla> Knock knock. Before Commander Hylinch could answer, Gerund, her XO entered her office. A look of apprehension filled Gerund¡¯s normally stoic face. Seeing him, and having just repressed the first Harbinger attack here since the base had been established, the Commander was ready to hear the status report. ¡°What are the final damages?¡± Commander Hylinch asked, anticipating the report, while dreading it all the same. ¡°Well, about that. We only had sixteen injured, five are major and will require your help. As for the others, well they have already been treated.¡± ¡°And the casualties?¡± ¡°None.¡± ¡°None?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, the gunnery crew was already locked and loaded. Apparently, the Lieutenant said she felt the Harbingers were coming?¡± Gerund said, as he stared and watched the face of the Commander. Hearing that the Commander could only nod her head in understanding. ¡°Good, and they believed her?¡± The Commander asked, clearly assuming this to be the case. ¡°Well, about that. It seems that none of the other soldiers believed her, until she had already begun the counteroffensive.¡± ¡°A discipline problem then?¡± Commander Hylinch noted more than asked. ¡°A discipline problem,¡± Gerund agreed. ¡°You¡¯ll take care of it?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Gerund stated, a bit hesitantly, but that was his position after all. ¡°Anything else?¡± The Commander asked, after Gerund stayed around a bit longer than necessary for this report. ¡°Actually, there is one thing¡­¡± Chapter 10 Disappointment Chapter 10 Disappointment ¡°The problem with war is that it eventually ends, which means the alliances that were once forged and unbreakable suddenly become tenuous at best.¡± -Anonymous Federation Diplomat The Past <13 years ago, a five-year-old Arla> Arla had studied. Worked out, not just her body, but her mind. She had pushed herself, forced her eyes to focus beyond the visible light spectrum of humans and force her mind to see the images and colors that most Cerusians can. With her training, she learned to read, and write the language of the Cerusians. Of course, she couldn¡¯t understand the words when spoken by a Cerusian, how was she to know that the whispering lilts in the air were their speaking instructions to her. Instructions in Cerusian, a language no one had apparently thought to record. Whisper-whisper. ¡°Candidate must ask to move ahead before going onto the next section.¡± ¡°Candidate has gone ahead without permission. One point deducted.¡± ¡°Candidate has read the subject for flames but must now explain what the passage was about. Candidate has failed to respond to verbal questions, five more points deducted.¡± On it went. Like a bad dream, Arla only now realized what all the silent whispers were, and worse she realized she was meant to fail that test. ¡°Perfect marks in reading. Perfect marks in writing. 100 points deducted for verbal communication skills. 100 points deducted for failure to follow instructions. 100 points deducted for failure to verbalize true understanding of the Cerusian language.¡± Arla¡¯s small form stared up at the Cerusian who had administered the test. ¡°You are such a bastard child, that you probably don¡¯t even realize how or why you have failed. Just staring up at me with that same pitiful glare of wanting to be accepted. Hearing that, something inside Arla broke. Only now, with her gift of foresight, or maybe reflection could Arla truly understand the gravity of what transpired that day. Only now, that she felt the Cerusian system awaken within her, did she realize that there was no way she could pass the test. There was one way she could prove this to herself, but for the moment she ran through everything that was said. Her mind long since able to recall this key memory with crystal clarity thanks to her evolved Mind stat. An Attribute that didn¡¯t seem to fit, and for most people it didn¡¯t, as Attributes rise up, hit a base threshold and then evolve, just like skills do, but in odd and unique ways based on the class of the individual and the way the individual uses their Attributes. For Arla her Mental Attributes, or rather those linked to Memory and self-reflection evolved as follows.
Intelligence: 1 -> 50; Processing: 1 -> 75; Perfect Recall: 1-> 100; Mind: 1 -> 222
Wisdom: 1 -> 50; Understanding: 1 -> 75; Making Connections (AKA Deductive Reasoning): 1-> 100; True Insight: 1 -> 157
With those two Attributes well above most mortal limits, Arla was able to look back into her past with near perfect clarity. Now, aided by her newly awakened split consciousness from Mr. Fortuna, Arla could see this moment with perfect clarity, as if she was reliving the moment. Better still, she could interact with the moment, now that she had finally awoken her Cerusian system. She wouldn¡¯t change the past, or rather she couldn¡¯t, but she could use this moment to see what exactly happened. Why offer her the chance at a test, if they knew there was no way she could pass. They had given her everything she needed, books, resources, and even energy stones to practice with. Yet, they didn¡¯t give her any recordings knowing that three fifths of her testing would require oral comprehension of the language. Worse, they spoke at purposeful whispers, so that a young girl not wishing to bother the instructors who appeared to be mumbling or practicing their whistling at sub-audible levels wouldn¡¯t respond. ¡°Bastard filth of the cosmos, do you understand why you have failed? Note, failure to respond now will be seen as recognition as your inability to fit into the fleet.¡± The Cerusian test proctor stared coldly at Arla. Arla stared back, remembering being frightened of the man, but now she saw him for the coward he was. ¡°I do.¡± Arla responded, her tone cold as she fought to center herself and her broiling emotions. This was her chance to tell the people what she truly thought of them, about how she was abandoned by them. It was shallow, and ultimately meaningless, but in this moment, it felt real. In this moment, she could get her justice, especially now that she was older and more aware of the world. Hearing that, the proctor looked visibly flustered, as Arla actually responded, something that was clear she wasn¡¯t supposed to know. ¡°I know that you are a dead and dying creature, limping off to hide in space. Trying to avoid the superpredators that stalk you in the void. I know that when you die, your weak and pathetic blood will not taint and dilute my own. I know that you are nothing but a shadow of a once proud race. A proud race that now sustains itself by mocking the children born from your own lascivious desires.¡± Arla hissed back, but her words were sharp. Hearing the words, the proctor looked shocked, going so far as to stand up from his chair. ¡°Superpredators?¡± He asked, then clarified, ¡°you have heard of and seen the great message?¡± Hearing the word, Arla realized that what she spoke was not superpredator, at least not the term that the Federation used. Rather this was an older word, one that in Cerusian was closer to Stalker of the Void than superpredator, but both definitions seemed to fit. Trembling. ¡°You fool, you brought them here?¡± The proctor hissed. Hearing the words, it was clear that the Proctor was frightened about something. But what? Then the reality hit her, as she realized that the Proctor was frightened by the fact that she had clearly seen the Cerusian system message for superpredators and was now here. Realizing the mistake, Arla just smiled coldly. ¡°No, I faced my challenges. This is just me reminding myself how I am so much better without you all. Goodbye, you won¡¯t see me again.¡± Arla stated, this time it felt good for her to be in control of the situation, if only for that moment. A moment that she was now stretching beyond its normal limits. A memory that would bounce back, once this memory sequence was complete. ¡°Wait, if you have defeated a superpredator, then how are you only a child?¡± The proctor pondered. Then his eyes seemed to glow golden, though it was a shade of gold that Arla herself had never seen before. But she was certain that it was a form of Light Magic, likely focusing on time. Arla just smiled coldly, ¡°die slowly in your own self-created prison of darkness. Forever looking over your shoulder for when the monsters of the void will find you and devour what¡¯s left of your carcasses.¡± It was cathartic in an odd way that wouldn¡¯t matter, as that bubble in time never occurred and its effects would never be felt. At least, that is what Arla thought. *** The Present Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The Fortunas exited the protective cube an hour after Arla fired her last round. It was a single point burst that took down a space-hound, apparently the creature got stuck and mangled during the mass exodus of the boarding ship. The creature was stuck, clearly frightened, but angrily snarling and revealing rows of jagged teeth. Having seen the creature multiple times before, Arla didn¡¯t even hesitate to end its weak and pathetic life. There was no saving the monsters, those born to the Harbingers invariably die when their Harbinger handlers die. That was the way of life for them. Seeing the dead creature, Arla paused and before she could feel pity for the creature she had killed, she once again found herself uttering what was often her catch phrase. ¡°Rule number one,¡± and like that Arla was back to action scanning the alien vessel and finding secret compartments and bulkheads that could be used to hide even more creatures. Nothing else remained, well nothing living. There were components that could be used. Odd Harbinger energy cores and processors that could be sold on the Federation Black Markets. For a moment, Arla contemplated stealing a few. They were monitored and catalogued for taxes and special handling. Arla of course knew how to handle the odd components. Normally they would melt a hand off that came too close, which again was where Arla¡¯s Spirit Infusion came in handy. Dealing with old and derelict Harbinger ships was how Arla learned to practice the coating she used to take down the Behemoth. Giving a quick glance around, Arla realized that she was safe, and that according to the comms channel, Mr. Fortuna was already calling in for help. For a moment, Arla had a crazy dream of taking control of the enemy ship. With everything she saw, the ship was fully functional, with maybe a few cosmetic problems from the ramming portion of the ship being scraped up due to the less dense Federation construction methods. Theoretically, all Arla would need to d was close the hatch, disembark from the hull of this vessel and sail off. How she would sail a ship meant for clearly multiple Harbingers working in unison, she didn¡¯t know. Finally, it was her want to always have available trading pieces on hand that caused her to act. Taking a quick look around she saw that no one was in the ship. Not that many would dare to venture into a Harbinger ship, occupied or not. This was why Arla felt confident with her approach. Also, having a power source nearby was never a bad thing. For all these principles and more, Arla worked. Moving quickly she coated her hand in a thin film of Spirit Infused protection. From there, she grabbed the core, lifted up, and twisted. The entire process was routine by now, as she had done it dozens of times, scavenging parts for Marcon. Now she was doing it for herself. Whoosh. As soon as she too the primary power core, the main lights of the enemy vessel dimmed momentarily, but were quickly replaced by the secondary power sources. If Arla had more time, she would work her way back to those hidden generators. This was a standard raiding vessel, which meant it would likely have three minor power nodes and the one large primary power core. Theoretically, if caught now, Arla could just say she was disabling an enemy vessel so it couldn¡¯t be used against them. That said, she did go about stealing a few of the primary power cords. Especially the cords and resting nodes that were used to house this larger than average Harbinger power core. While Arla was fairly confident she could rig Federation items that could handle, or at least disperse the extra energy of such a large stone, there was no point, when the components were all right there. This was why Arla quickly began cutting and carving away sections of cord and power node housing units. Her method was simple. Originally, she had tools for such operations, but over time she learned to adapt her Spirit Infusion to be more precise. She could wield it like a blade at the end of her fingertips, which was what she did now to carve away sections of cords. She could strengthen it to make it a protective glove. Or she could thoroughly wrap her hand to make it a weapon meant for disabling an electrically charged system, while completely protecting her from danger. Having been through hundreds of Harbinger ships, she mainly understood their construction. Though she did like the fact that this one was still completely intact before she started. This made gutting it for vital components easier, as she was certain they would be there and mostly in their original shape and form. There was also something else that was crucial for Arla to do, now that the main power supply and primary components were taken off and stored in her space suit pockets. That is the layers between her body and between the open exposure to space, Arla began disabling the communications systems of the Harbingers. From her understanding, she was fairly certain that most of the people of the Federation were unaware of the blockers or communications methods that the Harbingers had. Which was odd, as they all but radiated energy. Though it was on a spectrum that most would consider to be dangerous if exposed to, unless utilizing an enhanced space suit capable of resisting radiation from space. For these reasons, and the fact that Arla actually wanted security to come, sometime soon, Arla went about disabling one of the three secondary clusters. In particular, she focused on disabling the communications node. There would just be two nodes remaining, the biocontrol node, which would have to be recalibrated for humanoids if they were to be used, and then the weapons systems. While the biocontrol node was a convenience at this time, leaving it active was better than the alternative of gutting it for parts, then having to recalibrate and repair the gutting procedures. Being in space, Arla was already plotting and planning contingency plans of escape. While the Fortunas would be safe in their weaponized suits, Arla would have to plan ahead. While she could continually refresh her air purification runes, that plan would eventually turn out to be sub optimal in a month. Not that Arla planned to be out here a month, but she knew she had a month to either get back to civilization, or to find a temporary gap measure that could produce or otherwise capture oxygen and other elements and reprocess them in a usable form for humans. None of the options seemed optimal. Waiting for others was the same thing as avoiding the true spirit of what Rule One meant. Also, waiting for others would be the same thing as saying that Marcon didn¡¯t give her enough skills or opportunities to learn how to survive in space. This of course wasn¡¯t true, which was why Arla decided to break way from the Fortuna¡¯s and any surviving guards they might have. Taking a moment, she evaluated where she was with her experience levels and decided that she had just enough to start a new Skill Tree.
Remaining Experience: 15,097 / 1,791,097
Pausing for a moment, Arla realized that even after ruthlessly slaying every member of the raiding party she hadn¡¯t gotten any experience. This again was due to the way the universe seemed to turn a blind eye to all things Harbinger, making it so no one profited from their existed. Still she had kept enough in reserve for just such an event. While she couldn¡¯t truly specialize, she had enough to gain a completely new Skill base and bring it up to the full Intermediate level. Which was exactly what she did. Focusing her mind, she pulled up a list of skills she had already used or studied.
Skinning Tracking Foraging Smelting Alchemy Metallurgy ¡­
On and on the list went of skills she had been exposed to. Again, getting a skill locked in by the system didn¡¯t mean those were the only skills she could use. But once locked in, these were skills she couldn¡¯t forget or atrophy in from lack of use. Taking a moment to center herself she focused on the primary skill that suited her needs.
New Basic Level Skill Identified: Mechanical Movement. Would you like to lock in this Skill as a new basic level skill?
The skill was better overall for what she wanted as it was a catch all for helping not only with moving machinery, but also helped with spatial awareness that involved the movement of complex machinery in tight spaces. Seeing the message Arla mentally accepted the prompt and then proceeded to pump the necessary 1,000 experience to raise the skill from level to 10.
New Skill Learned: Mechanical Movement (Max): Advanced Upgrades available. Would you like to choose the primary skill evolution path? Note, some skill evolutions might be blocked off or otherwise hidden from you until you meet certain requirements. Do you wish to continue?
That message was clear. It was a warning that with this being my primary trunk for Mechanical Movement, the evolution would both limit future branches of this base skill. While also making a veritable bottle neck until I could unlock a proper upgrade. Mentally accepting the change, Arla then looked through the list of Intermediate level skills that were available to her.
Mechanical Flight Space Flight Mechanoid Suit Piloting Driving (Basic) Piloting (Loaders) Piloting (Vessels- Aquatic) Piloting (Vessels- Subterranean) ¡­
There were so many options related to the movement while in various devices that it almost seemed like overkill. Still, Arla knew what she wanted.
You have chosen Space Flight as your Intermediate level Primary Path, is this correct? Note: Choosing this path will require you to complete an advanced Space Flight related skill progression before you are able to move further along.
Not even taking the time to challenge her decision, she went ahead and bought the skill progression path she had been working on for a while. Then with applying the necessary 10,000 experience points, Arla maxed out the Intermediate skill of Space Flight.
Skill: Mechanical Movement (Max) -> Space Flight (Max) -[Future Growth branches Available, but locked due to experience restrictions]
Remaining Experience: 4,097 / 1,791,097
Now she was in the big leagues of experience costs, at least for this new skill as the Advanced version of the skill and each subsequent level of that Advanced skill would now cost 10,000 experience points each. Still, she had just enough experience left to be dangerous, if she wanted to. Arla was so focused on her own contingency plans, that she failed to recognize when she was no longer alone in the alien space craft. ¡°Ms. Proma, is that you?¡± The voice of the female asked, at the same time a bright spotlight shone directly on Arla¡¯s spot, revealing her to be at the heart of a communications cluster node. ¡°Yeah,¡± Arla answered, feeling like she momentarily lost vigilance by letting the girl get too close to her. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good,¡± the daughter said, a note of hesitation in her voice. ¡°Might I ask what you are doing?¡± ¡°Disabling the enemy jamming device, so we can get a distress signal out.¡± Arla replied, and with that, she made a quick Spirit Infused swipe with her hand at the minor node couplings and disabled the device. Instantly, faintly glowing green lights that had been illuminating the room suddenly went dim. Gasp. The girl gasped, at the sudden action of the ship going dark. It was clear that she was not comfortable with her being here. Seeing her, Arla could only note these peculiarities down. Still, Arla decided to play nice, for now. If she was to leave on her own, she wouldn¡¯t want those two to counter her plans. Similarly, she might be brought up on abandonment charges, if she left these two and they somehow survived. Clip. The communications channel that had been mostly muted finally came to life. ¡°Oh, thank goodness, we have a clear channel again, I repeat we have a clear channel. This is Urisiah Hylinch, repeat Urisiah Hylinch of the transport Vessel Audentes Fortuna Iuvat, can anyone hear me?¡± Silence. And like that, Arla realized that it was looking more and more like plan B would be the only plan to get out of here. *** The Future <6+ Years from Now, a 24-Year-old Arla> Knock, knock. This was becoming a common occurrence of late, but Gerund the XO was always punctual with his briefings, apparently. ¡°Commander?¡± Gerund began, before Commander Hylinch could even dignify the knock with an enter. ¡°Go on,¡± Commander Hylinch stated, gesticulating with her hand to hurry up. ¡°We have received reports¡­¡± Gerund began. ¡°Look, if it is about the new Lieutenant rummaging through the Harbinger materials of the recently destroyed squadron, it is likely best that you turn a blind eye to that.¡± Commander Hylinch noted, already trying to cut off one avenue of trouble. ¡°No, I was not currently aware of that,¡± Gerund stated, looking momentarily flummoxed by that new set of details. For a moment Commander Hylinch chided herself for giving away too much, but figured it was best to nip that in the bud before it became a thing, to begin with. ¡°Okay then, what is it?¡± Commander Hylinch asked, straightening up as she realized this might actually be important. ¡°It seems that we have been given a hailing message from the Cerusians?¡± Gerund noted. Hearing that Commander Hylinch just paused as she tried to understand what this all meant. ¡°The Cerusians?¡± ¡°Yes, it seems that they have recently reached out to broker an alliance, though there is one catch.¡± ¡°A catch?¡± ¡°Yes, it seems that they are particularly interested in a soldier under your command¡­¡± And like that, what had been a regularly terrible day at the end of Federation occupied space suddenly became a lot worse. Chapter 11 The Arrangement Chapter 11 The Arrangement "I don¡¯t know what was more frightening, the universe when people who took Ignition were hunted down, or the universe thereafter it was legalized." ¨C Anonymous Federation Senator The Past <4 Years Ago, a 14-year-old Arla> ¡°Aren¡¯t I a little old to be putting on the mad genius inventor guise?¡± Arla asked, as she gave a last cursory inspection on her modified hybrid monstrosity that used Harbinger, Cerusian, and Federation parts in equal measure to create a wholly unique if slightly less than aesthetic three person transport capable of hyperspace and atmospheric breaking maneuvers. ¡°Sadly, with a work this good, you could always play the mad genius role and be accepted.¡± Marcon explained, running his hand over the hull of the ship. His mind was lost, distracted as he seemed to be psyching himself up for what would come next. Looking back, Arla realized that this was his way of getting into character, he had to pause focus and then take on the role that he was to portray. In this case, his role was that of the less scientifically capable engineer who assisted and could sell the work but would refer back to Arla for any technical pieces. Normally Arla would be asked to dummy down her explanations, but for this role Arla was allowed to go full nerd. At least that was what Marcon called it when she went fully into the specs of how she worked all three component types together, while not creating any issues with the underlying systems. This was her passion, finding incongruous pieces and uniting them in a way that balanced them perfectly together. Often times these off assignments used for fund generation were her favorite cons to pull off. Then again, as Marcon put it, these weren¡¯t true cons. For true cons were where you sold unsuspecting people goods that were defective or would otherwise breakdown. By comparison, all the scams they did worked. The only reason why they kept their heads down low as due to trying to avoid government oversight, both for tax purposes and avoiding consequences of breaking ridiculous consumer laws. Finally, it was time to do the sale. The buyer arrived. He was a well-dressed man, well relatively well dressed. His suit was pristine and made from top-of-the-line organo-space resealing microfibers. Not as functional as Arla¡¯s Cerusian suit, but the best the Federation had for sale. Marcon was in the front, the driver, while Arla and the perspective buyer were in the two passenger seats placed side by side each other. Arla and Marcon didn¡¯t have weapons on them, not that Arla needed a weapon. This was her ship after all, she knew the ins and outs and had a few defensive runes established on the buyer¡¯s seat as a failsafe. Not that this transaction would require her to act, but there were some. ¡°This baby is a top-of-the-line tri-hybrid triple loader with ample cargo space and hidden compartments for making sure personal belongings are secure,¡± Marcon began. He of course was referring to the various bolt holes and hidden compartments and double hidden compartments that he had Arla put in, as a way for runners to hide their goods. ¡°A tri-hybrid?¡± The customer, someone who would later reveal himself to be a smuggling kingpin asked. ¡°Yes, it is capable of hailing and sending out friend or foe signals in Federation, Cerusian, and Harbinger accepted frequencies,¡± Marcon stated, before pointing to the instrument panel where it was a simple dial feature that could be adjusted to the required frequency. ¡°You can even do Harbinger frequencies?¡± The man asked, intrigued. With that Marcon gave his head shake, which was time for Arla to go into her accounting of the Harbinger components of the ship. ¡°Yes, not just the frequencies, but when engaged, the entire energy signature will also change to that of the noted group too. No use having a frequency that is one way, but a ship energy signature that is another way,¡± Arla clarified. ¡°Really, how is such a feat possible?¡± The businessman asked, intrigued. Seeing that he really wanted to know, Arla let herself go wild with her description, hoping that this man would finally understand her and what she was talking about. ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple really. In addition to the communications platform, which is a spliced platform. You can use all, but the default is meant to be Federation. We set this as the standard for Harbinger and Cerusian sounds are nearly impossible to mimic for the standard user. As such we just send Harbinger and Cerusian acceptance coding, while not sending out code that states the communicator is down, but can receive messages.¡± Arla began. ¡°With the communications taken care of, we then found that a few times our ships were still getting targeted, making us have to escape. A few tests later proved that the energy signature variance, while not a thing for the Federation, is crucial for bypassing Harbinger and Cerusian scanning.¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± the businessman said still seeming interested, but it was clear that Arla was losing him. Rather than back down, this was Arla¡¯s cue to keep going, with her mad genius role. ¡°We also found that weapons were the first dead giveaway of wrongfully designed parameters. Cerusians and Harbingers have much better telemetry on energy levels of firing weapons. As such, having Federation weaponry made us stand out like a sore thumb. Which was why we ditched the weapon systems, went for alternating energy emitters that perfectly match passenger vehicles of this size for both respective fleets. This also freed up additional compartment space for internal storage that would be hidden to most inspectors.¡± Arla concluded. At the end, Arla saw that she had messed up, for the normal glassy look that the businessman had been taking on, was suddenly replaced by a lively look as he stared intently at Arla. ¡°You said extra cargo space? How is this possible if there are three systems running at once?¡± The businessman asked. ¡°That¡¯s the brilliance, there aren¡¯t three systems, just one system that we alter to show characteristics of one of the three,¡± Arla explained, while she pulled up the schematics for the ship and had them appear in a three-dimensional rendering in the cockpit, suddenly illuminating the entire ship in a bright blue glow. There on display was a complete schematical layout of the ship, showing Arla¡¯s shorthand notes on what she did, where she inserted alien components, methods used to keep the components together. Seeing the schematic, the businessman nearly drooled as he looked on in excitement. ¡°You know, I could just record that and make a whole fleet of these,¡± the businessman said, trying to appear more generous.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Laughter. Hearing that statement, Marcon who had been mostly quiet to this point just laughed boisterously. ¡°Hah, fat chance,¡± Marcon stated, inserting himself into the conversation and taking the negotiating pressure off of Arla. ¡°Really, you don¡¯t think my people could take this and reverse engineer it?¡± The man asked, a slightly curious tone to his words. ¡°Not a chance, if you saw the level of focus and the protective measures taken while inserting the parts, you would understand. Now that it is configured, it is safe and secure everything works perfectly. Even breaking apart will be done in such a way that prevents catastrophic explosions or eruptions. But for any standard mechanic to be able to do this, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s possible.¡± Marcon began. Then turning over his right shoulder he looked at Arla, before continuing. ¡°Go ahead do a scan match, where we prove the schematic you have is the same one as the ship, then give him the schematic,¡± Marcon stated. Hearing the words, Arla didn¡¯t hesitate. Instead, all she did was tap a pulse match of the blueprints being displayed, which caused a ripple effect to go out through the ship. With this pulse, the schematic aligned properly, taking on a more horizontal view. Anchor points were highlighted and pointed to throughout the ship. Finally, a read out of 100% match was confirmed. ¡°Do you agree that the blueprint before you is that of the ship you are currently in?¡± Arla asked. The businessman stared at the schematic for a moment, trying to look for the signs that the blueprint was tampered with to give a false reading. After a moment, the businessman nodded. ¡°I do,¡± he stated. With that Arla, following Marcon¡¯s orders shared the watermarked blueprint to the businessman. ¡°Do you mind if I take this back to my own engineers?¡± The man asked. ¡°Sure, but know that once you leave without this vehicle the price will of course double,¡± Marcon noted. ¡°Double?¡± ¡°Yes, right now you think you can just manufacture these for free with the schematic you have there. Once you realize you can¡¯t and come back, know the price will double for our hassle of having to come back.¡± Marcon quipped. Chuckle. ¡°Fair enough, if these ships are as unique as you claim, then I have no doubt we will do business with you, based on your capabilities alone.¡± The businessman replied, but stared at Arla the entire time as he completed his comment. With that the sale was over, the businessman left, and Arla and Marcon sped off to their ship. ¡°Cloak us while we move,¡± Marcon stated. And like that, Arla activated a number of energy dispersing runes that would hide the signatures of the ship from anyone trying to track them. Arla just stared at Marcon, in the past she had asked hundreds of questions. This time however she just stared at Marcon, seeing his brilliance. At the time, giving away the blueprint was unthinkable to Arla. But now, she understood it for the strategy that it was. ¡°He¡¯ll be back,¡± Marcon noted. ¡°I know,¡± Arla replied. ¡°We have something wholly unique that only you can make. He will be back,¡± Marcon stated again, seemingly not convinced with Arla¡¯s earlier comment. ¡°I know,¡± Arla repeated, as this memory came to a close. *** The Present ¡°It looks like it might take a week for someone to get out here to us,¡± Mr. Fortuna stated. Hearing that, Arla just nodded, as she continued to work. All around her were various runes that were all activated. The Cerusians were long accustomed to fighting off and defending against the Harbingers. This was especially noticeable due to the way many of the Cerusian runes perfectly negated the energy being emitted by Harbinger energy sources. While the energy couldn¡¯t be negated completely, the runes were powerful enough to alter or block the effects of Harbinger energy with varying degrees of effectiveness. Having spent hours with these sources, Arla began working. This wouldn¡¯t be her most complex formation, but integrating Harbinger technology into anything was always a problem. Here the effects were minor, as she just wanted to use the Harbinger energy sources, which would then require their wiring, and a few overlay Federation systems. Searching through the hull, Arla found a bevy of broken down and incomplete Federation and Cerusian ships that individually could not run. But they had just enough components each to work. Staring at the crafts, Arla found herself looking back at the mechanoid suits of Mr. and daughter Fortuna. As she stared, her eyes seemed to speak a question that further seemed to indicate that this was all part of a setup. ¡°What?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked, clearly seeing the challenge in Arla¡¯s gaze. Seeing that Arla would not give anything away and was not about to start working he continued. ¡°I just happen to feel that it would be in my best interest to have all of these broken down ships.¡± ¡°Ships that don¡¯t have energy supplies, and are missing at least one other critical component?¡± Arla pressed. ¡°Well yes, I didn¡¯t want it to come back that I was transporting an operational fleet of war machines into a military occupied space, that would be tantamount to asking to be blown out of the sky.¡± Mr. Fortuna replied. Hearing the response, Arla could only pause for a moment before realizing that he was right. Having that many ships would set off warning flags, especially if any were operational. Additionally, each would have to be declared independently, unless ¡°scrap metal?¡± Arla found herself asking. ¡°Scrap metal, for the war effort,¡± Mr. Fortuna explained and gave a faux raised fist for solidarity and resistance. Seeing the gesture, Arla realized that this was a setup, but then just shook her head. That was how Arla went back to her personal designs for tri-weave designs. Pulling up her schematics, she looked through the bodies and hulls and found that only one hull would meet her needs. Unfortunately, it was not one that she had done before. That was when she went about creating a new schematic from scratch. Once she tested it, with her own programming, she was confident it would work. There was of course a big red exclamation mark at the top of her design that warned her that the design was completely dangerous and did not meet Federation safety standards, but she didn¡¯t care. Arla just accepted the warning and got to work. Well she first laid down layers of protective Harbinger energy dispersing runes, the went about fixing the three person ship. One that conveniently had enough hull space to store away two reverted mechanoid suits. It was at this point that Arla realized this whole event for what it was, an audition. This wasn¡¯t her first, and I fact that businessman that she originally gave the schematic too came back and basically demanded she put together another ship right in front of him. She did, which let them sell not one but two at double the original asking price. Seeing this, Arla just muttered ¡°rule eleven,¡± before she began working. Finally, after time, the daughter came forward and decided to begin asking Arla questions. ¡°Um excuse me, but you often mutter about these supposed rules. What exactly are they?¡± The somewhat frightened female asked, despite wearing a mechanoid war suit capable of destroying half a terraformed city. Seeing the girl, Arla could only laugh slightly to herself. Though on second thought, she realized that she still had the two turrets attached to her body, along with their battery packs. Right now, Arla was in the process of wondering if the turrets should be stripped for parts, with their battery packs going to further fuel components of the vessel, or if they would be needed here. ¡°These are rules to live by, and a way to keep priorities in line,¡± Arla answered. ¡°Okay,¡± the girl responded. Silence. With that the two just stayed in a state of relative silence. Arla moved and activated her rune network as needed, while deactivating other runes. All while the daughter just watched her work, not that there was much else to do here, so she couldn¡¯t fault her too much. ¡°So what exactly is rule number 11?¡± The girl finally asked. Arla paused for a moment and stared at the girl, before finally just shaking her head and answering. ¡°Rule number eleven is Once they see the magic, true unexplainable magic that isn¡¯t magic, they will be hooked. It means that part of this is for me to show you what I am capable of. A part that Mr. Fortuna clearly orchestrated, no doubt to get you to want to spend time with me. Though I don¡¯t know why,¡± Arla said, explaining the rule and then playing her hand as to what she thought of Mr. Fortuna. For his part, Mr. Fortuna just smiled and gave a wide palm out gesture. An act that was made doubly noticeable due to it being mirrored with his mechanoid suit. ¡°What can I say, it is one thing to tell everyone about a master mechanic capable of doing the impossible. It is another thing entirely to see a master mechanic at work,¡± Mr. Fortuna exclaimed excitedly as he stared on in fascination at Arla. This wasn¡¯t Arla¡¯s first time being subject to this level of scrutiny, in fact when she first began Marcon pestered her about every action she took and why. At the beginning she couldn¡¯t quite explain why, other than saying it felt like the correct way to work things. Now though, now she could articulate why she did each step, but fortunately no questions arose. Instead, the two fellow castaways were content to just stare at her, while she meticulously worked her way through each compartment of the ship. Occasionally she would get up and go over to a nearby Cerusian ship and break apart brackets to get at the nearly crystalline cable cords that were better at adapting and then eventually converting Harbinger power sources so they could power federation structures. The entire process was tedious, but in the end she managed to complete creating a working prototype within the first day, occasionally resting to eat and drink in the salvation cube. Then by the third day, Arla had a fully functioning three-seater capable of space travel complete. Then two more days were required to create a ship capable of entering and leaving most type one and type two atmospheres. With everything complete, she was finally ready to go to school. Of course, that was when she realized her one major flaw. ¡°Does anyone know how to get to the Military Academy?¡± Arla asked. With that Mr. Fortuna just smiled predatorially, as if he had been waiting for this chance. ¡°I just so happen to know the way. I also know a few back routes, just in case.¡± Mr. Fortuna noted. With that, he began guiding Arla, in the direction and heading they should go. Vrr. The ship purred to life, gently rising up and crisply maneuvering out of the cracked and broken hull with deft ease. As they left, Mr. Fortuna found himself asking a strangely memorable question. ¡°Do you have any plans for what you will do with your life. A person of your considerable talents could make money in many different ways?¡± Hearing the question, Arla knew she had plenty of ways to make money. Even if she washed out of the Military Academy, she knew it wouldn¡¯t be too hard to make a living on the fringes of the universe. That said, there was something that had intrigued her about Mr. Fortuna. ¡°I think you already know what I am going to say, but I¡¯ll say it anyways,¡± Arla began. ¡°Oh, I am so curious about this,¡± Mr. Fortuna replied, his eyes glowing with a golden sheen. Then Arla hit him with a question he had not been expecting, though to Arla it was the only obvious question to ask. ¡°How exactly did you make that power orb from earlier?¡± *** The Future <6+ Years from Now, a 24-Year-old Arla> Arla made her way back to her makeshift hut, only to find that the door had been opened. There were a few things that tipped this off, but the most important factor was the faint layer of dust that lay disturbed from her door. Seeing the disturbance, Aral pulled out her officer assigned peacemaker and slowly entered. The room was dark, but her glowing eyes made quick work of seeing through the darkness. Then to no one¡¯s surprise, Arla saw her resting comfortably on Arla¡¯s bed. ¡°This a pleasure call?¡± Arla quipped, her tone dry and marking this as an obvious joke. ¡°It could be,¡± the female voice called out. Arla just raised her eyebrow, her glowing eyes all but showing off this act for everyone to see. ¡°Fine, fine, I was wondering if you wanted to be my partners, again?¡± And with that Commander Lyria Hylinch rose up from the bed and stared directly into Arla¡¯s eyes, as she waited for a response. However, there was a problem, for the power that Arla had been using to peer into the future was already degrading and crumbling away. Especially as she spent more time in the present trying to change her destiny. Chapter 12 Withdrawal Chapter 12 Withdrawal ¡°The only thing worse than having power is suddenly losing it, it is that lingering memory of power that makes you forget your principles, makes you chase that next high.¡± ¨C Former Federation Space Corp Sergeant from his deposition hearing. It was hard to describe the exact moment when Arla¡¯s recently acquired powers overtime ended. From an outside perspective it might have seemed like a slow gradual process. But that was not the true way it felt for Arla. To her, someone that was experiencing the power of the ability to see and manipulate the past, while also realizing the potential impact on the future, to have that turn off suddenly was like losing part of herself. There was no other way to describe the sensation. One second she was fully herself, and the next she was missing a vital component that had seemingly always been there. A part that she knew now where it existed, as if it was a missing muscle or a missing limb, but one that she also knew would never respond to her gentle probing again. ¡°I see that the power you acquired has already worn off?¡± Mr. Fortuna stated, his eyes glowing their golden hue filling the three-person cockpit as they made their way forward in the boundless recesses of space. Worse, while she could pilot this ship, she still required Mr. Fortuna¡¯s navigational skills to help guide them to their military academy. Only now did Arla realize what type of trap this was. Worse, she had failed Marcon¡¯s teachings. ¡°Rule number nine,¡± Arla muttered to herself as she realized that she had allowed herself to be made a target of a con. ¡°What was that?¡± Mr. Fortuna asked, his tone speculative. ¡°Nothing, just noting that this was all well played. Even now you have made it so I am a stationary target for whatever sales proposition you have already set up,¡± Arla stated, her voice calm as she bought time, at least by letting the man speak out his con and profess his arrogance to the universe she will have time. Right now, Arla was focusing wild Spirit Infusion around the cockpit, the would hopefully lower the ability of Mr. Fortuna from being able to accurately predict his future, while it would also allow for Arla¡¯s countermeasures to start charging lest she need to activate them in a hurry. This meant that while she was down and clearly behind in the negotiations here, she still had her own form of leverage that she could apply to these negotiations. ¡°Come now, no need for the hostilities. Let me guess, Sleep? No Paralysis runes? Very clever. No we do not wish to make you feel like you are cornered. Quite the contrary, in fact we wish to enter into a business arrangement with you as equals,¡± Mr. Fortuna began. Hearing that Arla just used her periphery to allow her to see off reflective surfaces that she had placed throughout the cockpit so she could accurately see Mr. Fortuna¡¯s face. Then quickly shifting her gaze the other way, she saw looked towards the daughter. For her part the daughter was either an exceptional poker player, or legitimately had no clue as to what was actually happening around her. All the daughter seemed to be saying with her face is, what are you doing father? With the silence in the cockpit nearly deafening, Mr. Fortuna continued his well crafted speech. Likely one that he had been preparing just for this exact moment, a time when they would all be forced to sit around and have nothing better to waste their time with than possible future business arrangements. ¡°Perhaps formal introductions are in order. While I originally introduced myself as Mr. Fortuna, I am in fact Dr. Urisiah Hylinch, and the person to my right is my true biological daughter Lyria Hylinch. A few facts to make sure are expressed here and now. We are currently on the fastest direct route to the Military Academy in Maralla. In fact, keeping on this heading will lead you to clusters and noted star charts that will take you straight to the Academy. In fact, coming up a few star clusters ahead, you will start to notice semi-familiar formations that you will no doubt be able to use to direct your way towards the center of the Federation without too many issues.¡± Hearing this, Arla¡¯s ears perked up, as she realized this almost sounded too good to be true, which meant it was a con. ¡°You are no doubt believing that this is too good to be true, that I am giving up the leverage that I have over you. That being that you need me to get to the Academy. However, that is not the way true partnerships are formed. That is also not the way I want my daughter¡¯s most trusted friend to think of her, while at the academy.¡± ¡°Father?¡± Ms. Fortuna, or rather Ms. Hylinch, if the man¡¯s comments were to be believed cut in. ¡°Relax, she is the most trustworthy person you will find while at the Academy. Whether you choose to acknowledge that fact or not is not of my concern. That said, I will still need you to at least keep a cordial relationship with her, as I intend to broker a deal with her.¡± The man, formerly Mr. Fortuna, continued. The more he spoke, the more uneasy Arla felt. For she could not detect any falsehoods, or any hidden intentions. From everything that Arla was seeing and hearing, this man, Dr. Hylinch, was telling the truth. ¡°What kind of deal would you broker with me?¡± Arla found herself asking, if only to see where this con job would go. Already, Arla could see that the man was correct. The red star cluster to the left was the Nebulon cluster from the back side, meaning they were on a fairly major pathway towards the heart of the Federation, just as the man described. This meant that, should Arla want, she could jettison the two into space, knowing that their bodies would not be found before they died. Even then, they would be noted as likely lost to the Harbingers. Seeing the familiar setting, it was clear that Dr. Hylinch felt that by distracting her early enough, he would buy himself and by extension his daughter more time. The fact that she would get along with the daughter was something she could attest to, for there was a future where she was summoned specifically to work for this daughter at the outskirts of space. Remembering those future visions, Arla realized that then the commander had gone by Commander Hylinch, which seemed to further the claims of this man. It was odd, knowing that she would be in a partnership with Commander, at least that is what the words she said at the end seemed to imply. Focusing her mind Arla remembered the vision. She went into her room and there she saw the daughter, a slightly older and more athletic version of the daughter, but the daughter nonetheless. That was when the daughter said, ¡°I was wondering if you wanted to be my partners, again?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. There was also a semi-playful banter that she had with Arla, implying that they were friends. Had Arla not felt the power of being able to see traces of the past, she might not have believed the powers of the future. But they were there, ready for her to see and feel them. ¡°The deal would be simple, and I will explain the marketing mechanism to you. Though you must forgive me, I felt a live demonstration would have been easier to comprehend. Thus, the chicanery with inadvertently letting you gain the unstable version of my own S-Ranked Prophetic Powers. From which I was able to impart a portion of my power to you, which when you first consumed the sphere felt like it would be with you forever. In fact, even right now, you can no doubt feel the void left by having the power awoken within you, only to then slowly have it fade away. No doubt you can prod around in your mind and feel the vacant spot right now, likely feeling for the spot the way someone would use their tongue to check for a missing tooth. This is the power we will offer, and as partners we will make a killing.¡± The man, Dr. Urisiah ¡°Fortuna¡± Hylinch stated. Hearing him talk, Arla could see how this was a set up from the start. Though she did have to wonder. ¡°Wait, you set this up, knowing that we would face a Behemoth?¡± Arla asked, wondering just how crazy the person who was offering a business deal with her truly was, and mentally preparing the paralysis runes just in case. ¡°What? No, I knew we would be stopped, I knew you would survive. But I assumed it was just a typical Harbinger fleet, not one with a Behemoth, that said, congratulations. No doubt this will have a lasting impact on your future,¡± He stated. With that Arla paused, realizing that the man was still reading the future, no doubt somehow finding out about how her Cerusian System. A system that still seemed to be activating within her mind. Cerusian System Activating¡­ it is imperative that you do not go unconscious during this time, while updates are being applied to your mind. Seeing the message that was still loading even after a week, Arla wondered what the system would require from her in the future. Part of her inherently wondered if having the Federation System already active in her mind would cause a conflict and would thus explain why her Cerusian system was now taking its time to load. Then as if reading her thoughts, or perhaps reading a future where she finally expressed her thoughts, the man Dr. Hylinch, responded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, both systems will be able to operate. It will just be that your Cerusian System will not be able to affect your body, which is what the long boot process you are experiencing currently is related to.¡± Hearing that, Arla wanted to know more, but was soon cut off by a gesture of the man¡¯s wagging finger. ¡°Ah-ah-ahh. I need to tell you of our future business venture, before we get closer to the Academy,¡± Dr. Hylinch pressed. Hearing that, Arla felt that she couldn¡¯t refute the claim, particularly as he had given away information for free. Then once she realized that, she realized that this too could be part of the con, which likely meant that this con, whatever it was, would be huge. So huge in fact that this man would want to build up plenty of good will with her, even going so far as to give up his perceived leverage in an attempt to make her seemingly more amenable to this venture. Seeing the signs, Arla couldn¡¯t help but feel impressed by how elaborate the entire trap was. Being this deep in the trap, Arla wondered what could possibly be the business venture that would start this long chain of events. ¡°Go on,¡± Arla stated coldly. With that the Doctor smiled widely, causing the shading of his golden hue created from his wildly glowing eyes to dance about subtly in the cockpit. ¡°First let me explain the balanced partnership. I want to be equal partners with you, 50-50. Know that in this you will only have to produce one thing, and I will deal with the exportation, distribution, sales, and everything else associated with this process.¡± ¡°Sounds like a book deal?¡± Arla quipped. ¡°Almost, and this will be a royalty-based business. But as you saw before, the effects of having a power are impressive. Know that the higher the grade of power stone you get, obviously the higher the price. For the power of the stone that can be produced depends on the capacity of the individual creating the stone. Thus, the stone you got from me, transferred a copy of my S-Ranked power to you. What I want from you is to make those same single serving samples that you received from me, for your primary power.¡± The man said. At that, Arla paused, realizing this was the risk. Here is where the issue came. But before Arla¡¯s mind could wander, the man continued his sales pitch. ¡°See the problem with your power the way it is currently, is that it is too fast. It is over in a second. There one second, snap your fingers, thereby altering the life of the recipient forever and for what? A partial shared experience? A one-time payment? What I am asking is something far more lucrative, and economical. What is better than a permanent power increase that you only have to purchase once, rather than one you have to purchase repeatedly,¡± the man stated. Hearing the idea behind the business venture, Arla had to give the man credit. So far, his entire demeanor had been agreeable, but then again this was a trait of ¡®Cogs. They could see the future, see what words and approaches worked, and which ones didn¡¯t. In a way, Arla was jealous, as they were the conmen that she wished she could be. While she could pretend and strut like someone who agreed with people, it was always just an act. For deep down, she knew a mutt of not one but two space faring civilizations she would have a hard time fitting into either. ¡°In fact, with my model,¡± the man continued as more and more familiar star clusters came into scanning range, before passing my quickly in the deep recesses of etherspace, ¡°you will sell a minimum of two tablets per purchase. One to ignite the base power to the maximum, and one to experiment with awakening an alternate power. Then even a third tablet if one would wish to get that second power up to maximum.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± The formerly quiet daughter, Lyria Arla believed her name was, asked, suddenly excited. ¡°Yes, you too my dear Lyria could benefit from this as well, particularly with your initial evaluations. For you could join as a certified S-Ranked Healer, if you so chose.¡± The man said, and with this, even the daughter who had up until this point done everything possible to stay out of the conversation suddenly found herself sucked in. Such was the charismatic nature of a ¡®Cog businessman who knew he was in charge of the negotiations. Still despite everything, Arla found herself questioning the situation. ¡°So how much exposure would I have in all of this?¡± Arla asked, realizing that money ventures aside, the easiest target to take down would be the mixed race half-blood who was attempting to become a true Federation Citizen. ¡°Glad you asked, for you would just be in charge of the creation, the absconding, hiding, and exfiltrating the substance from the Military Academy would be up to Lyria here,¡± the Cog continued, ¡°in fact, if this is agreeable to you. I could propose a test of loyalty on our part, right now.¡± Hearing that, Arla felt that there was a definite twist coming, but as far as she could tell, this was not for her. Still, she had to press, for this entire process was intriguing, at least from a future business perspective. ¡°I will walk you through the power creation process right now, and your first customer will be Lyria here.¡± ¡°What?¡± Lyria demanded. ¡°Come on, you already owe her two for fully Igniting your primary power and letting you join the Healer Corp with your second power. Now, you will be bonded at the hip, with her being your supplier and needing to maintain your S-Rank induction. An induction that you will naturally spark by your now S-Ranked Energy Disruption. Come on, you know a power that is that far off the scales will be easily read. Then when you only register with a B-Ranked power, you will be caught as a dual affinity. So it is either go in as an S-Ranked Dark Energy user, or follow your dream and be a Healer, an S-Ranked Healer.¡± Hearing the man speak, a sudden look of dawning comprehension crossed Lyria¡¯s eyes as she suddenly realized the truth of the man¡¯s statements. ¡°You bastard! How dare you!¡± Lyria spat venom at her father. ¡°Calm down, calm down. You knew the only way you could get in was due to your Energy Disruption, that is still the case, even though you have become a Healer. Now I¡¯m just offering a way that the two of you can form a mutually beneficial relationship built on trust and cooperation. With this venture, both of you will require to fully trust the other in order to succeed. Also, with you being the first recipient of the substance, you will always be able to maintain your fix and continue with a vaunted career as an S-Ranked Healer.¡± ¡°A ranking that will be fraudulent.¡± ¡°No it won¡¯t, so long as you two can continue to get along, so what do you say?¡± The doctor pressed, asking his daughter. His glowing eyes seemed to stare into and through the daughter, before she finally deflated slightly, a sign she acquiesced. Again, either she was the best liar in the universe, or she had no poker face. This was a concern for Arla, but right now, Arla really only had one question. ¡°And as for you?¡± The man with glowing golden eyes pressed. ¡°Just how much are you looking at selling these for, and to whom exactly?¡± ¡°Glad you asked, for the price will change based on the market, but I think the first batch will go towards fellow recruits in you class. Recruits who will all just miss the cutoff, without external assistance¡­¡± The ¡®Cog began. And like that, Arla knew she had a business plan was one Marcon could only dream about, making this whole exchange both tenuous, and enticing. Seeing her apprehension, the distributor, Dr. Hylinch seemed to smile, ¡°would you like a second power orb, so you could see how this will play out? I could tell you that it will be very lucrative for both our families, but I figured seeing it with your own eyes might help you make your decision faster.¡± With that, the man held out his left hand and seemed to concentrate, as the glowing golden hue of his eyes slowly faded, while a much brighter sphere appeared in his hand. Seeing the process, the entire thing seemed simple and Arla was fairly certain she could already do that. If not, she could get it within a few tries. With a moment¡¯s hesitation, Arla paused as she wondered if she wanted to try the dose again, or if she wanted to trust her own instincts. Her mind told her that this would work, but would likely further reinforce that blatant cavity in her mind. The cavity that tingled with its existence, but did not seem to go away. Just seeing the marker, Arla realized this was not only a test for herself, to see if she could quit, but also proof as to how powerful this opportunity would be for others. Seeing the outstretched palm and orb, Arla smiled. ¡°No, I think I¡¯m good. Shall we begin with the signing of the deal now?¡± Arla asked. And like that, Dr. Hylinch, AKA Mr. Fortuna smiled a golden hued smile as all his plans seemed to finally come together on the future he wanted. ¡°Yes, let us begin, and know that all products consumed by my daughter will be purchased at full price and rewarded to you properly. What do you say to ten?¡± ¡°Ten?¡± ¡°Ten Thousand Credits for this first dose for my daughter, each hit will be based on the market needs and of course your ability to produce without being caught.¡± The man said, as he pulled back the created orb and placed it into a pouch on his side. And like that, the partnership of the Ignition Broker Enterprise truly began. Chapter 13 Mass Ignition Chapter 13 Mass Ignition ¡°The only reason honest people break the law is the hope of a better, easier, or faster way to the top; once you realize that, and how to help them move by you faster, you will always be able to make money.¡± ¨C Teachings of Marcon Trust. It came down to trust. Right now, everything that Arla did and said would be measured. From her perspective she was completely absolved of any crime, as she could not be linked to possessing any known illegal products. In fact, technically what she had created was legal. For all magic wielders were allowed to make power transmuters, that was the technical term for the ball of condensed Light Energy that Mr. Fortuna, AKA Dr. Hylinch had provided to Arla. From that one orb, Arla had been able to see the beginning and end of time based on her current actions. Such power, such insight was invaluable and addictive, which was why Arla didn¡¯t take up the ¡®Cog on his little ploy, when he offered others. No, creating the power orbs was fine, and encouraged. What was not okay was taking the orbs with massive surges of power and trying to pass that off as your own. That was where the law hammered down on people who passed themselves off as a power wielder that was greater than their own. It was clear from their brief interaction with each other, that Dr. Hylinch was very much in favor of the alliance between them. Going so far as to demand Arla create no less than twenty Ignition infused power orbs, which she barely managed to finish before landing. There was just one snag, in that Lyria Hylinch, the daughter, seemed to be apprehensive about the entire arrangement. Worse, since she was already part of her active list of symbiotic relationships, Arla was unable to determine a few things.
Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 893 / 1,122
First that number did not note if Arla would be able to gain experience and other benefits from users of her own version of condensed energy. Second, without Lyria actually registering as an S-Ranked Healer, there would be no way for Arla to keep this business venture active. Still, Arla had time. In the end, despite being late, they still managed to arrive with a few hours to spare before standard application processes began for the new semester. Arla would have thought this luck, had she not seen the completely relaxed way that Dr. Hylinch had seemed while they approached the training planet. With so much time remaining, and Arla having mastered the process of condensing her Ignition energy into a tightly compact sphere, it was advised that the two groups disperse before signing in to register for what would be anywhere from two to six years of training. Six for Arla and two for Lyria. The separation was perfect as it gave Arla time to fix her hair that had begun glowing from all over. The more she could feel her Cerusian system activating, the more the top of her head began to tingle. Going into the local commissary, Arla went in with her full helmet attached and got old school shoe polish, which would be needed for their planetary training. Going in, she made sure to buy at least two canisters of the material, one would be used for her actual boots. While the second one would be used to help her hair. She also got one brush. Once the products were acquired, she went to the restroom, locked herself into a stall and then using the Cerusian rune for Blending with a subtle hint of Chameleon to her brush, which she then used to apply a thin coat of black boot polish, changing her hair color to all black. The process was quick and seamless as Arla had years of forced practice at maintaining standard grooming habits. There were times when Marcon would test her in the field, and if she got lax, or failed to apply a coating while on mission, she would be punished with extra training. Then again, often her rewards for accomplishing missions as stated was training. This entire process took a matter of minutes, but during that time quite a few things happened. First, Arla felt calmer. She felt like she could blend in, particularly if the girl, Lyria, was her roommate and on board with their scheme. Second, there was enough time that she began feeling tiny pings happening within her mind. Now when she focused, she felt that there was not one but two columns of Symbiotic Relationships active.
Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 893 / 1,122
Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 1 / 1.
Then after a few seconds, the number of temporary symbiotic relationships began to rise rapidly.
Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 2 / 2. Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 3 / 3. Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 4 / 4. ¡­ Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 7 / 7.
Seeing the number of active but Temporary Symbiotic Relationships, Arla felt. Well she didn¡¯t know how she felt, for that was a lot larger grouping than she originally thought possible. Yet, they were all there. Judging by the numbers, it was clear that Dr. Hylinch had done his part in recruiting. For a moment, Arla wondered how he got so many to join, but then Arla realized just how prestigious the Military Academy is, and how getting admitted with an S-Ranked evaluated talent put you at the elite of the elite when it came to selections, programs, fundings, gear, and most importantly training. Arla herself could sign up as an S-Ranked individual, but instead chose to enter as just an A-Ranked individual instead. These were just as good, just as revered, but not harped upon as much as traditional S-Ranked candidates.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The idea was that by going in as a just below maximum, her want to hide in the numbers would be slightly easier. She had long ago worked out that the greatest part about joining a military would be the ability to obtain anonymity through mass focus. With this, she would be able to hopefully blend into the crowd. With her training she had no doubt that she would be able to stand out from her peers, but life had taught her that this was not the best course of action. Instead, laying low, getting into the exact top third of all classes, and keeping off the radar of other cadets would be her way of making it out unscathed. There was of course the nuclear option. The option where she abandoned her false fa?ade and crushed her enemies and fellow cadets to pulp. But one never went nuclear, unless they were ready to deal with the permanently tingling skin left by radiation. As she made her way to register, Arla felt the number of Temporary Symbiotic Relations go up a few more times.
Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 8 / 8. ¡­ Temporary: Number of Symbiotic Relationships still Active: 12 / 12.
Feeling the final number stop, Arla wondered what caused the sudden change. It wasn¡¯t until she was standing in line at the A-Ranked individuals, waiting to be checked in that she saw Lyria flanked by a gaggle of five males and seven females. All of whom were heading to the almost vacant S-Ranked line. The numbers and now the newcomers¡¯ presence proved one thing, that Arla could in fact feel the direction of people she had a symbiotic power-sharing relationship with. Just as usual this relationship appeared to be one sided, for while Arla could feel her connection to the gaggle of 12 new S-Ranked individuals coming her way, none of the 13 seemed to notice Arla. Well, there was one, as Lyria who had been looking around for Arla smiled brightly when she made eye contact with her. Only to then frown as she looked and saw which line Arla had taken up registering with. It looked like Lyria was about to say something to draw attention to Arla, when her friends began chatting animatedly amongst themselves. ¡°This is so great,¡± one girl exclaimed, apparently still reeling from the natural high of having her powers supercharged. ¡°I know right?¡± Another one of the girls called back, mirth and excitement filling her words. ¡°I am so ready for this,¡± one of the males spoke out. From there, the conversation devolved into a myriad of jovial and barely contained excited comments. ¡°Do you think this is your personal gathering for a social club!¡± An Academy Drill Sergeant shot in, and immediately began commenting on the fellow cadets. Hearing them, Arla kept her face blank as she just stared forward, waiting for the application lines to open for the day. Finally, after a moment the Drill Sergeant left, clearly not wanting to go too hard into students who all claimed to be S-Ranked. Likely, it was best for the drill sergeant to let the process weed them out, then he would be able to interact with them accordingly. It was also apparent that the one Drill Sergeant would be no match for twelve super charged S-Ranked cadets if things got violent. This was why the Instructor seemed more than content to leave once the gaggle of S-Ranked individuals, once they calmed down. There was silence for a moment, but then eventually the gaggle began speaking again, this time at a more hushed tone. ¡°Hey, why do you keep looking over there?¡± One girl asked bitterly. Hearing the girl¡¯s tone it was clear that she was the type who would start an argument when she was annoyed. ¡°Nothing,¡± a girl with a familiar voice replied. Hearing her voice, it took all of Arla¡¯s training and perseverance not to turn and look at the speaker. The reason why she didn¡¯t turn her head was because she didn¡¯t need to. For she knew who the girl over there was, just from the bond they shared. It turned out that telling the difference from a real bond and a temporary bond was rather easy. One felt real and fully tangible, while the others felt like they were soft and pliable. For a moment, it felt as if Arla could snap the connection to the temporary symbiotes with just one good mental tug of her power. She didn¡¯t do this of course, nor did she practice, but she held the idea in mind for the moment that things went sideways. ¡°Oh, you like the dark-haired A-Ranker?¡± One of the girls shot out. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had a thing for girls? Had I known, I would have dropped Trave a while ago.¡± Another girl quipped. ¡°Hey,¡± a male, likely the noted Trave, cried out in faux distress. ¡°I don¡¯t, it¡¯s just that¡­¡± Lyria replied, her voice trailing off as she clearly didn¡¯t know how to describe her reaction. ¡°I mean, I get it. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, and she¡¯s clearly fit. If it wasn¡¯t for her being an A-Ranker then she would likely be a perfect candidate for you.¡± The first teasing girl replied. ¡°Yeah, as an S-Ranker, we need to have much higher standards, maybe a title bearer at the very least,¡± another girl replied. Hearing them, Arla almost smiled at the idea of who quickly they all seemed to acclimate to their new power levels. While Arla couldn¡¯t tell what ranks their powers were before her boost was applied, she could tell that most had increased their rankings considerably with her infusion of her power. ¡°Hey you, A-Ranker,¡± the first mocking girl called out. Hearing them, Arla looked ahead to see that there were still three people before she would be seen in her line. It was also clear that by the tone that for whatever reason she had been targeted by the group. ¡°You, with the dark hair,¡± the same girl called out. It was clear from social dynamics that this girl was likely a self-appointed leader of the group. Likely due to the way she was more boisterous and seemingly jovial than the others. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Arla turned and looked. Knowing that her not focusing on the attention seeking woman would likely cause issues later on. Arla turned, and simply nodded her head. ¡°Ohh.¡± The boys and girls called out as they gazed at Arla¡¯s face. ¡°No wonder Lyria has been staring at her, she is gorgeous,¡± one of the males responded. As he spoke a few of the other power infused boys nodded in agreement at the comment. Hearing their comment and seeing their reaction, Arla just pretended not to have heard anything, instead just locking gazes with the apparent instigator of this random event. It was clear that Arla had been called out due to the girls being bored, and therefore wanted to exert their newfound power derived confidence at someone deemed to be weaker than them. However, in this particular case, that power was directed at Arla. ¡°Oh wow, I take it back. I was going to say you weren¡¯t good enough for my Lyria here, but after looking at you, I take it back.¡± The ringleader of this whole encounter began. Hearing her, Arla could only nod her head in acknowledgement and turn forward wanting to end this conversation and defuse the entire situation as much as possible. ¡°You might be good enough for her, but you will have to pass our test first,¡± the ringleader continued. Inwardly disgusted, Arla just focused her head forward and continued counting down the people before her. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m talking to you,¡± the ringleader cried out. Arla for her part went and did something that all people of mixed nationalities learned to do from an early age, that is look forward, pretend not to notice, and hope time somehow speeds up. Time of course did not speed up, but that was fine as Arla could check to make sure that she was capable of blending in, at least here. Finally, the person before Arla strode forward. With that, Arla moved forward and watched everything that was happening before her. This was the final act needed to get the ringleader and her super powered cronies to stop harping at Arla. Their line too was moving, but with a total of fifteen S-Rankers, Lyria, her gaggle, and one actual S-Ranker their line moved along slowly. It was also clear that their line being so disproportionate to years past was drawing the attention of faculty and staff. For many extra proctors were nearby. Evaluating them and seeing if they would pass muster. Normally in cases where there were a lot of S-Rankers, finding out if there was power doping, which Lyria and her friends were now doing, was a relatively simple process. Finding power dopers usually focused on a group of people having one power up to a certain high ranking. This would have been the same thing had Lyria and her power-infused friends all come in with the same S-Ranked Precognitive ability as her father. However, the standard testing mechanisms didn¡¯t take into account someone like Arla being the power supplier, someone who could get anyone to raise their power to match her own the S-Rank ability level. This was why all the S-Ranked cadets were scanned, evaluated, and finally taken over to be re-inspected by a different measuring tool. Seeing their level of scrutiny, Arla was glad she chose to go in the smaller and more statistically likely A-Class line. Who while sporting a large gaggle of nine cadets, including herself, it was not as conspicuous as the grouping of fourteen total S-Ranked individuals. Arla knew that the second tester would be used to check for a massive but unexplainable drop off in power rankings. This would have caught Lyria¡¯s B-Ranked healing ability, had she not used an extra Ignition stone to power up her own healing ability. That, or she would be flagged as having two powers, which would put her on a different kind of watchlist. Hoping that the girl had done her part and taken the power crystal to be part of the group, Arla could only hope that she did the right thing. Which in this case would mean she took one of the orbs for herself. ¡°Next,¡± the A-Rank inspector called out, informing Arla that it was now her time to register. Realizing that her worrying about the potential relationship with Lyria was a moot point, Arla centered herself, and strode forward, ready to hide her true strength while blending into the background of the Military Academy. Moving forward, Arla uncovered her hand and placing it over the power determining sphere, waited, while her future was being calculated and presented. Glow. The sphere glowed brightly, but there was a limit to what this particular sphere could register. Being the A-ranked line, Arla knew that the testing devices would only be able to test to the lowest extremes of A-Rank. Anything more would likely require a stronger apparatus. ¡°Oh wow, you are clearly an A-Ranker, though, I have to ask, would you want to try for S-Rank?¡± The receptionist asked. Hearing that, Arla just shook her head, before subtly glancing to her left at the long line of S-Rankers. The line who had more than a few of the more brazen individuals staring at Arla. Seeing them and their disposition, the receptionist responded, ¡°yeah, I could see why you might want to avoid that crowd. Normally they aren¡¯t like that.¡± The inflection was clear, she had seen everything and realized that Arla might not want to be forced into more confrontations with that group. ¡°Well, you are an A-Ranker, that is guaranteed. And I believe we have your Attributes¡­¡± The woman trailed off, as she saw something that made her jaw go slack. And like that, Arla realized that she might have a harder time hiding under the radar than expected. Chapter 14 The First Rule Chapter 14 The First Rule ¡°The First Rule of this universe, the only thing you really need to remember if you forget everything else I tell you is this: The only one capable of truly stopping you, is you, so don¡¯t. Ever.¡± ¨C Teachings of Marcon Arla placed her hand on the grading sphere. This was the one calibrated to test for those who met the minimum threshold of power necessary to reach A-Rank. Looking at the stone, Arla felt a wave of nostalgia for some reason. Only after she placed her hand on the odd sphere that looked so unlike Federation technology did her sense of nostalgia make sense.
Cerusian System Calibrated. Anomalous Record sources detected.
As soon as her hand touched the sphere, her Cerusian System, a system that came to life and claimed to be awakening close to a week ago finally sprang to life within her mind. With this awakening, it was clear that whatever the Federation did to Awaken people was either a direct but incomplete copy of the Cerusian system, or a parallel evolutionary path. Either way, Arla found symbols and numbers running across her mind. These were the Cerusian letters and complex characters for different concepts that took seconds for her mind to read, interpret, and then comprehend. It was clear from the stream of characters scrolling through her mind, that some sort of troubleshooting process was being invoked.
Data Corruption Detected. Data Corruption deleting¡­ Deleting¡­ Corrupted Data unable to be deleted. Compartmentalizing Corrupted Data. Cerusian Power structure loading¡­
With that, Arla felt parts of her mind awakening.
Cerusian Power structure corrupted. Retrying¡­ Retrying¡­ Trying new method, this might take a moment.
On and on the messages went. Fortunately, Arla was able to focus through the flowing streams of energy to show that while the information she obtained from her Federation awakening was being compartmentalized, she could still see everything. Most importantly, she saw her Primal Seven, or the Seven Prime Attributes noted and recorded:
Strength: 1-> 50; Compact Size: 1->75; Condensed Strength: 1->75; Explosive Tension: 1 ->238 Dexterity: 1- >50; Precise Movements: 1 -> 75; Intricate Fluidity: 1-> 100; Blurred Coordination: 1 -> 188 Agility: 1->50; Graceful: 1->75; Fluid Movement: 1-> 100; Lightning Reflexes: 1-> 234 Endurance: 1->50; Enduring: 1 ->75; Untiring: 1-> 100; Dauntless: 1 -> 224 Vision: 1 -> 50; Perceptive: 1 -> 75; Keen Eyed: 1 -> 100; Cognizant: 1 -> 212 Intelligence: 1 -> 50; Processing: 1 -> 75; Perfect Recall: 1-> 100; Mind: 1 -> 222 Wisdom: 1 -> 50; Understanding: 1 -> 75; Making Connections (AKA Deductive Reasoning): 1-> 100; True Insight: 1 -> 157
For a moment she paused, as she registered exactly what it meant to have been bound to so many different souls that she passively gained Attributes from. It didn¡¯t feel like much, particularly with how many she had, until she realized that her Attributes were phenomenal for seasoned veterans. While Marcon easily out classed her in most attributes, Arla soon realized that there was a vast difference between Marcon and all other soldiers. Still, Arla was able to realize that while she had been distracted and unable ended up only being able to suppress her primary power, the one denoting Ignition. In the end, she had to rely on the sphere to limit what extra information it shown and recorded. With baited breath, she glanced at what her initial assessment for the military would be.
Name: Arla Proma Role: Support Class Age: 18
Primary Power: Soul Power: A+ Rank Spirit Infusion: Infuse energy into items.
Prime Seven Attributes: Explosive Tension: 100+ Blurred Coordination: 100+ Lightning Reflexes: 100 + Dauntless: 100+ Cognizant: 100+ Mind: 100+ True Insight 100+
Skills: Trunk: 11 Branches: 14
Seeing those qualifications, Arla paused, realizing that the sphere had been far more powerful than she thought, catching her fourth evolutions for each of her seven Attributes. Still, they hadn¡¯t captured her true ratings in each, but the fact that they had been able to capture the fourth tier at all was impressive. Whistle. The proctor who had been recording Arla¡¯s measurements read the recordings and let out a whistle of anticipation. Hearing that, a somewhat distracted Captain came forward to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing the sudden enthusiasm from the Captain, Arla was at first leery. For her whole intent was to lay low. ¡°Finally, a recruit worth their weight,¡± the Captain exclaimed while looking down at the orb. Hearing the comment Arla was at first confused, until she noticed the not so subtle stares directed at the now gaggle of S-Ranked students, many of whom were still being evaluated, while only two remained after Arla. Seeing the gesture, Arla realized that there was likely a lot of competition between the two groups. Likely for resources, which would be pulled away from other ranks to support an overpopulated S Class of students. ¡°Should we request that she try for the S-Rank?¡± The proctor asked tentatively. ¡°What?¡± The Captain declared violently, almost as if asking to choose to give away a prized pet. Then the Captain quickly corrected herself as she understood what the proctor meant, but seemed to come to her own conclusion. Taking a deep sigh, the Captain paused and then looked up at Arla. The moment their eyes met, Arla could see a shiver run down the Captain¡¯s back. But still she did not falter from her intended plan.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°The Corporal here is correct, we are normally supposed to encourage one such as yourself to try for the S-Rank line, to see if you meet their standards. Normally, when there are only a few of you, this is a preferred option.¡± At that, the Captain turned to face the gaggle of S-Rankers, ¡°but as you can see there are a lot of S-Rankers currently. Should you choose to join them, we cannot stop you, but know that you will be ranked according to your Power rating and Power efficiency for a Combat Team. While you do have a great power, it is a Support Power, meaning you would get less resources¡­¡± The Captain went on, seeming to try to undersell how bad of a deal it would be to go over and try, let alone make it as an S-Ranker with her particular power. Holding up her hand to forestall any future ramblings of the Captain, Arla decided to push her own agenda. ¡°Two things,¡± Arla began. ¡°Two things?¡± The Captain parroted back. ¡°Yes, to keep me here, you will need to agree to two requirements,¡± Arla explained. Hearing that, the Captain paused as she seemed to finally view Arla as if for the first time. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m listening.¡± ¡°First, I will not be assigned as the Squad Leader, Team Leader, Class Leader, or any other honorific a Leadership position would entail,¡± Arla began, making sure to get her chief concern dealt with right here and now. The reason for this stipulation was simple, she wanted to remain low, out of sight, and have more free time for herself. As a Leader she would have to go to multiple leadership meetings and often deal with soldiers who were not conforming to standards for various reasons. While Arla felt she could do this, this was not her chief motivation for going into the Military Academy. At that comment, the Captain drooped her shoulders slightly, a sign that she clearly wanted Arla to join them for just such a role. Something Arla assumed based on how high her Attributes and noted Skills were. ¡°Well, you are a Support Class, so that does make sense,¡± the Captain capitulated. Hearing that her first request was accepted, she decided to go for broke with her second negotiation request. ¡°Second, I want to be enrolled in the Advanced Mechanical Track,¡± Arla stated, wondering just how much sway this Captain had. This second request was due to a combat patch the Captain wore, one denoting the 5109th Engineering Fleet. The patch meant that at one time the Captain had served on the Engineering Fleet, while they were set to patrol and protect against the Harbingers. While most would eventually get such a badge, and people that weren¡¯t necessarily related to Engineering could get that badge, Arla felt that there was a bit of a mechanic in this Captain. Hearing the request, the Captain paused, as she took in Arla. This time she seemed to truly look at her as if seeing her for the first time. ¡°The Advanced Mechanical Track? As an initiate?¡± The Captain questioned. Her tone was clear, do you know what you are even asking. Arla just nodded. ¡°Yes, I know there will likely need to be a practical assessment of some kind, which I am certain I will pass,¡± Arla commented. So much for keeping her head down and laying low. Though she had seen the future where she did keep her head down, a future where Arla knew she did not try for this advanced track. One where she got her Doctorate, but barely. While she felt she might still barely get the parchment, it was clear from her uniform that she did not have the Advanced Mechanical Track pin on her uniform when she arrived. Meaning she either tried this very trick and somehow washed out, or she had never tried. Seeing this point, Arla wondered if this was the true power of a ¡®Cog. Being able to see the future, and finding a chance to make a change, where no one would expect a change to exist. Everything she had done to this point was going to see her at that one seemingly inevitable future on the outskirts of space, waiting for Harbingers to find them. While that future was fine, for it meant she had been able to become a full Federation citizen, upon her completion of time in the service, she found herself suddenly wanting more. She had money, over two hundred thousand credits, thanks to her supplying over twenty Ignition stones to Lyria¡¯s father. But money meant nothing, if she didn¡¯t have the clout to be able to wield such finances effectively. This was why she felt part of her new outlook on life would be to change her mindset. Right now, she knew that if she went about things as they are now, she would scrape by. However, she was done with merely scraping by. In her future, that is, in her dream future, she would be more. Keeping low was fine for those trying to make it to be accepted by society as a whole, to become a citizen. But now that she was here, she had that, and a chance for more. That was why she now pushed. For the first time in forever, she was granted freedom and she decided to push for more. In her mind, she already knew that she could succeed at the ends of space. It would take less than nothing for her to make it out there. In fact, she even felt the edges of space calling for her now. Mentally, she wondered if this was what her Cerusian system was awakening in her. This need, this want to do more, to experience more. As if she was meant for something greater. Perhaps that, along with the awakening of the Cerusian system within her, let her feel these new wants. Wants that had forever been buried within her own mind and consciousness. ¡°You do know that the Advanced Mechanical Track is for those with exceptional talents? And I should also point out that you will only get one chance to apply for such a position?¡± The Captain pressed. Hearing that, Arla was more certain than ever that there was something about this track that was calling to her. She remembered Marcon telling her stories about the lone Mechanical Engineer for their team, who managed to work miracles. While it was clear that Marcon had a moderate understanding of machines, the way he spoke of reverence about this person, this mechanic with glowing reviews stated a lot. Remembering the way he would always tell those stories and then look at Arla made her realize that this might be someone that Arla reminded him of. Particularly after she showed an inclination towards mechanical engineering. ¡°I understand,¡± was all Arla could say to that, for at that moment, her Cerusian system that had been mostly dormant as it attempted to reboot itself finally came with an answer.
Cerusian System back online. Newest Universal Model 7.2.1 corrupted beyond repair. Instituting Cerusian Baseline Template: 1.0.0. Cerusian Baseline scan complete. New Cerusian Baseline Class assigned: Tinkerer. Tinkerer: (Support/Creation Class) Primary Purpose: Build Around and Find Out. Primary Bonus: Secondary Bonus: Tertiary Bonus: Extra Perks:
Congratulations! You have awakened the Meta-Chondrial system for Universe &@^%@1%!
Pulse. There was a faint burst of energy that Arla felt erupt from her, one that she somehow knew was related to her awakening Cerusian system coming alive and scanning the world around her.
Error, outside primary universe.
Surrounded by non-native species.
Murder Experience points doubled against foreign entities. Experience Doubled for being in non-native universe.
Reading the messages, Arla suddenly felt her mind reach out for a universe that was infinitesimally far away. Judging by the numbers provided, she was at least six universes away? Also, with the experience bonus, suddenly a few things made sense. Namely, why Cerusians would volunteer to be on the front line of wars. But given that Cerusians would fight Harbingers, did that mean that the Harbingers were from a universe that the Cerusians stumbled across? If that was the case, then it would make the Cerusians not the innocent escapees of a dying universe, plagued by the Harbingers. Instead, this new discovery would seem to imply that Cerusians were the initial destroyer of universes that had enemies follow them out of a sense of revenge? If that was the case, then why were the Cerusians here? Better still, what were the Cerusians doing while here? Were they searching for something, and if so, then what? These questions plagued Arla¡¯s mind for a moment as her thoughts spun with hundreds of runes that her mind tried to decipher. The wording of the new system was older, more archaic, overly formal. But that also proved that these were the baseline model of the language, of the system that all Cerusians carried in their fully awakened mitochondria. Only after taking a second to realize that the Mitochondria that now resided within Arla came from a different universe entirely did it make sense that hers would be different, even when being awoken by the standard processes of this universe. Also, what did it mean that other universes had different power structures? These thoughts and more went through Arla¡¯s mind, but it was the words of the Captain that brought her back to reality. ¡°I think we can arrange that, but regardless you will be in A-Rank, no matter what?¡± The Captain demanded. Hearing the words, Arla¡¯s mind reverted back to the present. Dismissing the hypothetical what ifs that she could not explain now. ¡°Yes,¡± Arla stated clearly. The one thing she was confident about, as she suddenly felt that she needed to be prepared. More prepared for the future than she already was. ¡°Okay then, come with me and I will help you get set up,¡± the Captain stated, her want to keep Arla as part of her class clear on her mind. Arla understood this, as the number of competent recruits you produced looked favorably on an instructor, and if you managed to get a lower ranked cadet to outperform a higher ranked, talent wise, cadet then you were no doubt going to get funding and incentives. Arla almost felt the need to ask what power set the Captain had, but a faint golden glow to her eyes answered Arla¡¯s question almost immediately. It was a faint glow, one that was nowhere near the same level as Dr. Hylinch, but apparently it was enough to help her be able to find talent. Realizing this about the Captain, Arla couldn¡¯t help but think back to how Dr. Hylinch had all but forced her to go this path. One that began when they were all but forced her to cross paths with a Behemoth. From there she managed to awaken her Cerusian system just in time to register at the Military Academy. One where she would happen to join when this Captain a minorly gifted Cog would happen to be at the line just in time when Arla had finished to make herself look presentable, before lining up. Everything seemed to be too perfect. But then again, maybe that was the point. ¡°Wait here,¡± the Captain said, as they both now stood outside the door of a different building. Looking at the name of the building, Arla read GreyNoise Hall. With that sign it was clear that this was where the engineering department faculty resided. At least, that is what Arla hoped that the converted and stylized version of a condensed space core crystal engine meant. Seeing the design, Arla realized that this was part of the intricate design of the Captain¡¯s 5109th Engineering Fleet combat patch. There were also ships, mechanoid units, and all other simple designs woven into the badge, but at the heart of it all was a power core, one similar to the design humans first used to travel the universe and make contact with alien species. ¡°WHAT! Fine, if a brat wants to fail out before even learning the basics, then it is no skin off my nose,¡± an angry male spoke. The more he spoke, a few things became clear to Arla. The first thing that became clear was that the argument was about her. As this was likely soon to be admissions proctor, someone who no doubt was asked to give this exam multiple times a day. The second thing that became clear to Arla was the fact that she could feel one of her sympathetic bonds awakening as the owner came within her power¡¯s maximum range. This was always odd, for Arla could see and feel these connections, but judging by the way the person didn¡¯t stop their rant, it was clear that the bond didn¡¯t affect the blessing of her Ignition the same way that she could. Swoosh. The mechanical doors opened up to the sides to reveal a mountain of a man. One who had grease and dirt stains coated into his military uniform. Normally this would be completely unacceptable, except for members of the engineering corps who dealt with chemicals that would remove color from materials. ¡°Is this the¡­¡± the mountain of a man cried out, but suddenly stopped as he laid eyes on Arla. Arla for her part just stood there, as she remembered this man vividly, for he was one of her first patients. One that Marcon apparently had to settle a past debt with. Judging from his reaction, it was clear that he also remembered her. That or he was finally close enough to feel the effects of their symbiotic relationship coming to life. ¡°This is the one, so do you think you can give her a chance?¡± The Captain cut in, her voice somewhat doubtful but cheery nonetheless. ¡°Aye, I can test her now,¡± the mechanic stated, while giving the Captain a dismissive wave. At that, the Captain grimaced slightly, as she wondered if she should try to help out a bit more. But ultimately prudence won out. ¡°Cadet Proma, once you are done with this evaluation, realize that registration will be over, so you will likely find me at the main administration building. I will have your course curriculum ready for you,¡± the Captain stated. Her words and actions clear. It made sense, likely there was some time limit to joining and getting evaluated with a particular ranking. By the Captain immediately shuttling her off to get evaluated for the Advanced Mechanical Track, it would mean that Arla would be stuck with her A-Ranking. At least, until the next examination period took place. Hearing her Arla just nodded, then turned her attention back to stare at the overly large and muscular mechanic before her. ¡°Right then, toodles,¡± The Captain stated as she apparently felt intimidated by the Mechanic, or maybe the situation in general, as her next reaction was to turn about and leave with a purpose. Then it was just Arla and the Mechanic, staring at each other. Arla knowing this for the intimidation factor that it was just stared back, her face devoid of emotion, just as Marcon had taught her. Chuckles. Finally, after a long moment, the mechanic broke first and stated, ¡°you look just like him.¡± ¡°Like, Marcon?¡± Arla asked. ¡°No kid, you look like your father¡­¡± Chapter 15 Integration Chapter 15 Integration ¡°The universe is not as black and white as the rich make it out to be. For the rich, they have money to back what they consider morals, imperatives to live by. For everyone else, who needs to work for a living, we need to play by a different set of rules.¡± -Teachings of Marcon The test was relatively simple, if a bit boring. ¡°Take a number of items from the stack, and build a device that could help in some way with the war efforts.¡± Simple. But the problem came, with the implementation. What exactly was a war effort device? Sure weapons would be helpful, but so would loaders, transports, and all other necessary items that one might not normally associate with war efforts. Still, Arla looked at the components, and saw quite a few Harbinger parts laid out in the pile. The parts that were there made no sense, for one was a tracking sphere with a cracked lens meaning at least half of the information would be lost. Another was a broken cloaking skin that would normally be placed all around a ship, but here the power and modulation ports were clearly cut off, meaning if Arla wanted to use either, she would have to improvise her own. From there, Arla found Cerusian solar charging panels, which were too small to field anything larger than a communications pad. Seeing everything, Arla, not wanting to stand out too much, put all the Cerusian and Harbinger components away and built a very sleek and economical floating sled. The sled couldn¡¯t get more than a few inches off the ground, but that was perfect for combat. By tweaking the exhaust vents and dispersing the discharge pipes to be reconverted into power, Arla managed to increase the lifespan of the battery for the device by 20%, while making the item nearly silent while running. To test it, Arla ran with it by her side, the device easily keeping up. Then jumping onto the gurney, Arla was pleased when the dispersion compensators quickly adjusted to her weight and barely warbled at the disturbance, but nothing too egregious. Once she was certain of its usefulness, Arla stopped and provided it to the lead mechanic. ¡°This is what you wish to submit as your official piece to join the Advanced Mechanical Track?¡± The instructor with a messy uniform asked. His voice was challenging, likely part of the process and partly to see if Arla could do more. Still, this was functional, and sufficient for military purposes, as such Arla felt this would be the perfect item to get accepted that while showcasing her talents wouldn¡¯t show her as a giant red flag. ¡°It is,¡± Arla confirmed. Harumph. The old mechanic grabbed the device, and tried pushing it down, only to find that it resisted his force with equal and opposite force. Seeing that there was no give, despite clearly using mechanically enhanced limbs to push the card down, the mechanic became begrudgingly impressed. Hmm. He made a quizzical sound before playing with the scraggly beard on his face. Then finally he asked, ¡°okay so what its it?¡± ¡°A silent military cart. It can be used to either drag supplies in, or injured out of a war zone, or both,¡± Arla explained. ¡°You know things like this already exist, right?¡± ¡°I know, but the challenge wasn¡¯t to invent something unique, but something that would help with the war effort,¡± Arla retorted. Chuckle. Hearing that the old mechanic just smiled. ¡°So I did,¡± the man explained. Then looking over the device, the man took a moment, before finally shrugging and reluctantly stating, ¡°you pass.¡± With that, the mechanic went and blatantly turned off a number of recording devices in the chamber. While this happened, Arla remained completely silent, though she was curious as to what exactly was happening. Only once every recording devices for sound, visual, or biometrics was off did the mechanic come over to Arla. Normally such an act would frighten would be students. Yet, Arla just stood her ground, confident that she could at least draw blood from the man before any of his mechanical limbs caused too much damage to her. Seeing her staring at the mechanic, the old man just laughed. ¡°Gods, you look just like him,¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Not your face, fortunately for you, but in your whole attitude.¡± Hearing this, Arla didn¡¯t rise to the bait. Either this was a trap where he would offer knowledge, knowledge that could not be verified, for some type of services. Or he would dangle the knowledge as some form of treat to get Arla to comply. In either scenario, Arla was okay with not knowing. Mentally, she wondered if she had a time orb from Dr. Hylinch, if she could get the information from this mechanic, but ultimately felt that was also a waste. No, right now, she was content with herself. Judging from comments of the past, it was clear that for whatever reason her father was unable to be by her side, she didn¡¯t need this man to offer false hope for more information that might or might not be accurate. Also, judging by the comments made thus far, Arla was certain that he would give out more and more information whether she provided any incentive or not, it was just his character. ¡°Anything else?¡± Arla found herself asking, trying to get this moment over with. There would be plenty of time for her to milk this man of information. But for now, she wanted to get this second part of the interview over with. Given that the man went and turned off the recording devices this was meant to be a secret. Now is when Arla expected the second part of the test to come, this was part of why she held herself back during the initial phase.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Here she expected him to tell her something along the lines of, ¡°now show me what you can really do.¡± Or something equivalent. In fact, she was certain that this would go in just such a direction so much, that she was totally caught off guard by what the mechanic said next. ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied as he went back to a very cluttered desk. One that held hundreds of parts, tools, and a mix of other items. Seeing the table, Arla noted a number of different tools, some were clearly unknown as they were Harbinger hull components, a few Cerusian wiring couplings and other odds and end equipment. As the mechanic went over, he rummaged through a pile of items, before pulling out an abomination. That was the only term for such a device, as it was an orb that was clearly blended with styles and components from all three space faring factions. In such cases, items made of all three components, that is Federation, Harbinger, and Cerusian parts were often referred to as abominations, mainly due to their unstable natures. Knowing this was why Arla chose to only use Federation items for her entry exam. She could have made a fully functioning item from any of the components there, but felt that when her item was turned in and deconstructed, the other judges would be less than thrilled with her use of non-Federation components. ¡°Here,¡± the mechanic exclaimed, lobbing the abomination sphere over to Arla. Out of reflex, Arla caught the orb. Immediately upon catching the sphere, Arla could feel a slight tingling sensation in her hand. Only after the scan was completed did she realize that the scan was searching for genetic markers. Whatever the marker checks were for Arla didn¡¯t know. All she knew was that she apparently passed the exam, as she felt the vibrations of the orb and they were the good kind. What were the bad kind? Well often they were the kind that opened grenades, or other explosives upon humans that got too close to Harbinger technology. Part of her training early on was identifying the scan, and how to react when she failed. Most of her training was to throw said orb as far away as possible. But in this case, there was no need. First, she saw that the orb had already scanned the mechanic upon his picking up the device, and seeing that it didn¡¯t react negatively to his touch, despite failing, Arla felt fairly confident that this would not be an exploding type of orb. That and the device itself didn¡¯t have enough of a charge left to generate any explosion of substance. All these factors and more went off in Arla¡¯s analytical mind, while the machine in her hand began to spin and warm up at her touch. Shaking. For a moment, the orb felt and acted like an unstable gyroscope before finally slowing down and seeming to maintain a fairly synchronized movement and rotation in her hand. As it spun, the orb seemed to generate its own internal energy, which then charged a kinetic power core. The more it spun, the more Arla¡¯s mind began breaking down the processes of the orb as she tried to understand the exact purpose of this orb. Then finally the orb charged enough for tiny three-dimensional messages to appear. Floating Electronic Chat box. Or at least one of the earlier iterations of chat boxes, for this one was fairly weak and banal compared to those that are out now. But for twenty years ago, this would have been state of the art graphics. Still, it had everything that one would want in a floating electronic chat box.
Greetings, Genetic markers identified and verified. Over 99.9998% chance of current wielder being a direct biological match of original creator. Initiating inheritance protocol.
Seeing the message, the mechanic strode forward, eyes wide with amazement. ¡°Marcon was right, you really are his¡­¡± the Mechanic trailed off as he stared at the message. Then as if drawn by something higher, he dropped to one knee as if in a sign of felty and swore, ¡°now that it is confirmed, know that I owe your father a life debt. One that I was not able to pay during his lifetime, but I will now pass that life debt onto you. So long as you are here, I will be your truest supporter.¡±
System oath received.
Darian Lemishov has sworn a conditional life debt to you.
Seeing the message, Arla accepted the oath. Accepting an oath given freely was equivalent to passing up free money. While the oath was conditional, it did suit her purpose. For a moment she wondered what the condition was, but quickly realized that the oath only applied here, meaning if she left and met up with Lemishov, the oath would not apply. Logging that mental note away, Arla just watched the man. Despite the oath taken by the system, Arla still felt doubt filling her mind as he seemed to be something different about the man. He could be an old comrade of her father¡¯s one who he did in fact owe a life debt to, but that didn¡¯t change the unease that Arla now felt. Rule: Nine, Arla mentally stated to herself as she knew the signs of a trapping. All the while that this was going on, Arla felt the orb gyrating and generating more and more kinetic energy that was then being used to bring to life even more internal processes and programs. Finally, the orb managed to spit out information.
AI Legacy compatibility confirmed. Generating first location marker. Would you like to see this location now?
Immediately upon seeing the message, Arla realized that she was the con. And the prize would be an AI Legacy, something major corporations would go to war over. ¡°What does it say?¡± The mechanic, this Darian Lemishov, asked. Only after reading the message did Arla realize that this script was different, as it was presented in Cerusian. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Arla replied out loud, pronouncing know as no, which then prompted to orb to turn itself off. Seeing the message disappear, Lemishov the mechanic rose to his feet, before nodding in understanding. His muscles were still bundled tightly as if he was ready to pounce. Only after a second did he seem to take a breath and relax. ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you keep it,¡± Lemishov exclaimed while gesturing to the orb. ¡°Bring it with you to class and feel free to ask me about any questions that you might have from the orb. I¡¯ll work on getting Cerusian texts for you to read.¡± He began, but then paused as he pretended to have an idea come to him. ¡°Actually, you can take Cerusian as your foreign language, which might help with that orb. I know your father was huge into Cerusian culture,¡± he stated and proceeded to stare at Arla intensely. For her part Arla played the role of a semi-na?ve schoolgirl flawlessly, going wide eyed and making an ¡®oh¡¯ shape with her lips to accentuate her confusion. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll sign you up for the classes, both here and the Cerusian language courses,¡± Lemishov explained, a bit too enthusiastically. ¡°Thank you,¡± Arla replied, letting a smile crest her lips. For a moment, she almost felt like she was laying it on too thick, but the man just smiled. ¡°All right, see you and welcome.¡± With that they waved goodbye and she began to leave. Only once she got to the door did he make a comment. ¡°Oh, and be sure to bring any questions you might have to me, particularly with your father¡¯s sphere there.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Arla replied, the lie as easy to tell as breathing. Then leaving, Arla hid the orb on her suit, but decided that she would likely need to hide this orb somewhere else, far from herself or from her room. Given how creepily the mechanic had been staring at the orb, Arla felt that this AI legacy, whatever it was, was something she would definitely have to deal with in the near future. Until then though, she still needed to register for classes and other events. Making a note of all her tasks still to cover, she decided to go to the registrar¡¯s office first. There behind the desk was the very Captain who had been personally escorted her to meet Lemishov. ¡°Hey there, welcome back,¡± the Captain exclaimed excitedly upon seeing Arla. For a moment, Arla wondered if the mechanic and the Captain were in on the same plan, but soon dismissed that claim for now. While it was a possibility, the entire thing seemed a bit too farfetched. For now, Arla noted the motivation of the Captain as her wanting to keep a promising cadet in the A-Rank, particularly with so many S-Rank students in the onboarding class. The Captain¡¯s motivation made sense, she wanted to keep Arla to keep resources for herself, while also having a smaller class size to manage. Though that classification could change if she found more questionable details. Then realizing her thoughts, Arla chided herself, for she was now being paranoid. While paranoia was often helpful, she realized that there were times when it could be too much. This seemed to be bordering on one of those times. Which was why she decided to relax and focus on the moment at hand. ¡°Oh, and it seems you passed your one-time entrance exam flawlessly,¡± the Captain exclaimed, her voice faltering at the end as she realized the enormity of the accomplishment. ¡°This well, this is worthy of a celebration, as it will drastically shorten your time here at Uni by at least two years.¡± Hearing that, Arla just raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh, you were likely not aware, despite knowing about the track, but those that graduate from the Advanced Mechanical Track are fast tracked to the military. Congratulations, that means that you will be granted an officer status that much faster, in an effort to help with the war time effort.¡± The Captain explained excitedly. Hearing her enthusiasm Arla felt she was missing something. This was good, better than good actually, as it meant that by joining the Advanced Mechanical Track she would get her doctorate that much faster and thus be accepted as a full citizen two years ahead of her initial schedule. While this was good for Arla, she could not understand why the Captain would be so enthusiastic about this as well. Seeing Arla¡¯s face, the Captain seemed to read her thoughts and explain her suddenly overly jovial nature at this accomplishment. ¡°I will have to warn you though, since you are going on the fast track, your training in energy manipulation and advancement will likely have to be cut for more practical courses,¡± the Captain began, then continued to look at the message log. ¡°Particularly with you having to take Cerusian language as your non-standard Federation language course.¡± Hearing that explanation, Arla relaxed a little, as once again the Captain¡¯s true motivations seemed to shine through. She wasn¡¯t just bubbly and helpful to be helpful, no one was, but her motivations were satiated by the fact that Arla would have to give up advanced magical training in order to graduate from the Advanced Mechanical Track, meaning her chance of retaking and passing to S-Rank would be substantially lowered. Arla could deal with that, the Captain clearly wanted Arla to succeed, but to succeed in her lane, meaning she would get the accolades that came from having such a student pass under their care. Nodding to herself, Arla realized she could work with this motivation. It also made future interactions with this Captain easier to process and capitalize on, for all she had to do was show that she was committed to remaining A-Rank and showing well for her and everything would work itself out. ¡°Now, I just need you to initial here, here, and sign here and you will be all squared away with your registration,¡± the Captain all but preened with excitement. Pausing for a moment, Arla took a deep breath, and then did as instructed. As she signed, she felt a slight jolt of static electricity pass, as she made her first markings. Taking it for the sign that it was, Arla realized this might be her mind, or the universes way of letting her know she forever changed her future paths available. Yet, she was fine with that. Once she was done she transferred over the electronically signed document to the Captain, who reviewed everything, before excitedly getting up from her seat and stating. ¡°Very good, now right this way¡­¡± Chapter 16 Opportunity Vs. Chance Chapter 16 Opportunity Vs. Chance ¡°The difference between an opportunity and chance, is that with opportunity you tried to take advantage of the situation presented, while the other you let the situation unfold without any resolution on your part.¡± ¨C Teachings of Marcon The preparation and setup of the room was simple. Each officer candidate was assigned to a two-person room that was connected to a joint bathroom that connected to a second conjoined but identical two-person room. Each group of two rooms and one linked bathroom was called a suite. Both candidates of the shared room were responsible for cleaning and maintaining their room, while also maintaining the conjoined bathroom. Each cadet was offered one twin size bed, a mounted wall locker for all military gear and effects. A table and chair to conduct their studies at, and a second personal dresser that could house any additional clothing or materials. It is the second dresser that would house personal clothing, items that were not regulated but authorized, and personal toiletries that would be needed for proper grooming standards. For Arla, the personal dresser was the most obvious choice for where she would hide her personal items. As of now there were only two personal items of any importance to her, that of her authenticated orb that gave a detailed star chart for where to find items left behind by her biological father. Then the hard drive containing the funds from her last con job with Marcon. Given the gravity and importance of both items, one for practical purposes and one for sentimental purposes, Arla decided to purposefully avoided blatant areas like the personal cabinet. Knowing what was at stake with the finding and loss of adequate control over her two items, Arla began making plans. The first thing Arla did was send out an energy burst-scan. This was a simple task of flooding the room with an ample burst of Spirit Infusion. Normally such a burst wouldn¡¯t do much, but given her hidden strength, marked only as A-Ranked, Arla felt that her burst would temporarily fuse with any electrical devices and temporarily disengage them. Better still, the burst could be felt, as she was in enough control over her power that she could feel where the energy collected. In this case, the moving supply of electricity to a device could be immediately noticed and felt by Arla. This was felt in the overhead lights, the nearby desk lamp, and even the ready to use but not active wall heater. With everything with an electrical current responding in some way, Arla was not surprised when she felt her energy respond to not one, but two sets of recording devices in the room. The first was over the beds from just above the wall lockers. The second was over the beds to the wall lockers. Knowing where to look, Arla realized that there was likely a cut off. The recorders were likely meant to show the cadets using or hosting any illicit substances. Good for getting rid of drug mules and the like early on. Arla made note of these devices, particularly if she was going to be a supplier for Lyria and her band of cronies. For Arla still intended to get paid, but now she knew that she could not use her room as a staging point for such actions. There were of course options she could do, like setting up disruption runes around the area that would temporarily disable the cameras while she worked but she didn¡¯t want that to be an everyday occurrence. Instead, she wanted today to be an anomaly, which was why she began moving quickly. This was when Arla began focusing on her second important task, namely finding a decent hiding spot. The most obvious spot would be the desk lamp that had already been removed, no doubt as a way to hide items by the previous set of students. This didn¡¯t work either, given that it had clearly been found and marked. Looking around the room, she took in inventory. At the end of the set of mounted wall lockers that were standing side-by-side was also a sink used for personal grooming. Complete with a mirror. Seeing that, Arla felt her senses going off as she realized she had found a perfect spot. No one looked under the sink. Well, everyone would look there, particularly for cleaning supplies. But rather, Arla realized that no one would look in the under-side of the sink. Working quickly, as she did not know how long it would take for a roommate to be applied to her room, or how long it would take for the natural flow of energy to the cameras to wear away at her protective layer of Spirit Infused coating that temporarily disabled the cameras from recording accurately, Arla began disassembling part of the sink. Her enhanced strength made the process easy. After turning off the water supply, her vice-like grip made grabbing the bolts and turning them simple, particularly as she applied Cerusian runes of lubrication and other sources of energy to quickly remove the tubes that connected the sink to the wall. From there it was a matter of using her fingers to gently fold and warp the dual layered compressed sheet metal into an open compartment on the bottom. This was made just large enough to fit her hard drive on one side, and her orb on the other side. Then gently pressing, she moved the layers back together, so that it had more of its original shape. There was still an odd bulge in the back of the sink, but not many would stoop down low enough to see the bulge. At least, that was what Arla was banking on. Then working quickly she put the pipe back into place, reattached it to the wall, then turned on the water. Arla even tested the sink to see if it worked. Fortunately, the top layer, the one that was firmly welded to the top of the access piping was still firm, smooth, and flat. The water rolled down and washed away easily. Making one last check, Arla checked the pipe to ensure it was not leaking in any way and was somewhat relieved to find that nothing had ruptured. Feeling confident with her design so far, Arla closed up the cabinet housing the sink¡¯s inner workings and began thoroughly washing her fingers. As dirt and grime stains stained her hands and fingers, making her work hard to remove the stains. For a moment she thought about space rations of water, needing to lather up, wait, rinse once, wait, then rinse a final time for cleanliness. Then she realized that that was not a concern here, particularly as the sink didn¡¯t automatically cut off after a liter of water was used. Thunderous slam. The metal door erupted inward, as the door crashed against the wall mounted locker, creating a deep reverberating sound that could no doubt be heard from a few rooms down. ¡°Oh, sorry about that!¡± A tall thin girl long black hair with purple streaks exclaimed as she grimaced, while wrestling with her giant square suitcase with wheels. Seeing the suitcase Arla realized by the bag that it was one of the newer mid-range bags. One that was designed for traveling, and able to be folded down to smaller sizes. Perfect for Academy students. The fact that it wasn¡¯t personalized in some way also said what strata the person who was assigned as her roommate was. The clumsy girl, most likely her roommate, had the lowest model of the travel bag. Indicating that either she was either rich and pragmatic with money, or middle class but liked to travel securely. Or poor and her parents scrimped and saved long enough to afford her this dream luggage carrier that would immediately be compressed into its smallest form and packed away until the next holiday or campus break.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Dropping the giant box of a suitcase by the door, the girl merrily skipped over to Arla and presented her hand. ¡°You must be my roommate. Pleased to meet you, I am Chloe,¡± she exclaimed jovially as she all but radiated positive energy. Seeing her, Arla smiled and turning off the water, shook her hand once, trying to get the dark soot into the sink before presenting her hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Arla, Mechanic track,¡± Arla explained, while offering her hand. This was a test, judging by Chloe¡¯s reaction to the dirt, Arla could see what type of background the girl in question had. While Chloe did offer a slight grimace and momentarily pause at the sight of Arla¡¯s still slightly dirt covered hand, Chloe still pressed forward Looking at her hand, the roommate, Chloe paused for only a moment, before grimacing slightly before putting her hand forward, where she gently clasped Arla¡¯s hand and shook. Not the firmest of handshakes, but clearly one that was meant to show she acknowledged Arla. The use of handshakes was also indicative of a few early to middle Federation planets. Planets where the threat of flesh-eating bacteria was rare, or planets where proper UV protective measures were commonplace. Not that it mattered here, for the Military Academy was a sanitized network of biomes and facilities that were designed to negate just such pathogens. Still, to have the inclination to shake hands immediately meant that the response was ingrained in the student¡¯s upbringing. None of these things changed Arla¡¯s perception of the girl, but each part gave her better insights into who this person was, and most importantly how they were more likely to react. Given her upbringing and demeanor, Arla felt it was likely certain that this girl never came into contact with Cerusians, or if she did her interactions were limited to only a handful of them. Again, no judgements, at least Arla was trying not to make judgements, just observations. ¡°Which side would you like?¡± Arla asked. While she had been the first person here, she had yet to lay a claim to any of the spots. Instead, she spent the entire time fixing her contraband hiding spot, and not much else. The only thing Arla really had on her now was her two cans of black shoe polish. ¡°I don¡¯t know, where is your stuff?¡± Chole asked. Arla just shook her head, ¡°got lost in transit. Besides everything I need will be provided for me by the Academy.¡± It was a lie, likely the first of many that Arla would tell, but one that would make things easier to stomach. ¡°Oh,¡± was all Chloe responded with, then trying to salvage the conversation, she quickly and awkwardly changed subjects. ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t mind, would it be okay if I chose this bed and locker set as my own? That way I can go to the bathroom easier at night?¡± Hearing the unbridled honesty of the girl, Arla couldn¡¯t help but smile slightly, as she found herself nodding, ¡°sure.¡± And like that Chloe began taking time to quickly unpack all of her gear into her locker. No sooner had she finished, then both cadets received a ping on their communicators. Ping.
Assembly outside in 15 Minutes to go over to CIF to get your Uniforms.
*** Morning began as it always did for Arla, she slept two hours, cleaned and made up her bed, then began to first stretch, before doing a light workout in her room. Planks, one-legged squats, wall chairs, crunches, and various other exercises that she could perform quietly from the corner of her room. Under her bed and hopefully not awaken her roommate. Fortunately, her roommate seemed to be a deep sleeper and easily avoided waking up at Arla¡¯s pre-workout routine. There was also the benefit of having more time to make any last minute touchups to her hair, in order to hide her blue streaks. Ever since her awakening, Arla could feel more and more of her head tingling to life as she felt the change slowly overtaking her. This was why, when the alarms buzzed indicating that it was 0400 and time to begin getting ready for workouts, Arla would be up and ready to go. On the first day, she did not want to be the top, the best, or in anyway shine above her peers. This was why, she made sure to do her exercises slowly, at the pace of others. Then as more and more fellow cadets began to fall out or break, she continued, but took longer to do each exercise prescribed. This had the added effect of fully stretching out her muscles and letting her focus on areas where she felt she was weak. Still, even while doing this, she felt that she had many sets of eyes on her, but then again everyone did as the other instructors were right there to yell at and call out any cadet who failed to finish the exercises. By the end, Arla did exactly as she wanted, she neither stood out for excelling or failing, but keeping that equilibrium. As a comparison, nearly all of the S-Ranked cadets fell out. With their platoon being stationed right next to the A-Ranked Squad, it was easy to see when they dropped. Everyone of them dropped, aside from the one that did not have a direct symbiotic link to her. It was also clear that he knew he was strong, and apparently had it in for Arla as the two would occasionally look at each other. Though every time Arla turned to inspect the S-Ranker he would just smile and smirk, before giving a quick wink before going further into the exercise that was being called out for the entire formation of incoming Freshmen to complete. Amongst the downed bodies, Arla couldn¡¯t help but feel, then see the connection to Lyria. Being this close, her connection was different, more complete if she had to find a way to describe the sensation, while the others felt like they were sort of ephemeral. Finally, after a certain time, the training was called to an end as everyone was sent off to their perspective rooms to shower, change, and prepare for their first day of classes. *** Classes went by relatively smoothly. Being dressed the same, forced to walk the same and given the same set of classroom equipment to record and take notes with, Arla found blending in to be rather easy. This was why she was able to keep her head down and easily breeze through math, science, and history. The trouble for Arla came with her afternoon class, where she was forced to sit in on Basic Cerusian. This was the class she had been assigned by Lemishov, her apparent course advisor for Advanced Mechanical Engineering, the actual name of the degree program that Arla was now working her way towards completing. This was the class that Arla had to take so that she could access the hidden star chart that Lemishov assumed would lead her to a hidden AI Legacy that once belonged to her biological father. The same star chart that now rested comfortably under her dorm room sink. Sitting in the classroom, a few things were apparent. First, there were a lot of scrawny males who wanted desperately to learn Cerusian. No doubt in some likely attempt to either pretend to watch terrible Cerusian movies and claim they are filled with culture. They weren¡¯t cultural at all, bearing nothing about Cerusian life or abilities, they were just a cheap way to make money by having humans and other humanoid races who were only drawn to pretty images, rather than content. This, or the other reason was this was all an attempt to try to get assigned as a liaison or cultural translator for Cerusian delegations that might contact a particular military settlement. ¡°Space elves are so hot,¡± the junior cadets chuckled to themselves. Though they all instantly stopped chatting as they saw Arla walk in. ¡°Hey, are you our new professor?¡± One of the gaggle of students asked. This one had dark curly hair that barely met regulations. Seeing him, Arla just shook her head no, before moving to the center of the seats, and sat down. Immediately, the boys who had been clustered towards the far wall, all slowly wormed their way forward until they were sitting adjacent to Arla. For her part Arla just sat stoically not wanting to engage with anyone. There was another female, who came in, saw the gaggle of students surrounding Arla in the direct center of the classroom, at which point she ducked her head down and sat along the front row. For a moment Arla was surprised that the boys didn¡¯t intend to go down and sit next to her, but before anyone could move their seats again, the instructor came in. ¡°Greetings class,¡± I am Dr. Juric, and will be your instructor for Basic Cerusian. Know that just by being here you will have met your language requirements for any degree path you choose. Also, know that after this class there is an Intermediate and Advanced Cerusian class that you would need to complete in order to be assigned a role as a Cerusian liaison, Instructor, or any other career path involving Cerusian. Given that, know you will all pass, so long as you come to class and focus. Though know getting my recommendation to further your education will require a lot of work and dedication.¡± The instructor, Dr. Juric explained. With that, the instructor began writing in what could only be described as Cerusian gibberish on the board. Judging by the letters and patterns used, it was clear that the instructor either had no ability to see the stressed and unstressed characters in Cerusian, or he was purposefully trying to make it so students attending the Academy had no chance of actually passing the material and moving onto the next round of classes. While she didn¡¯t have enough to form her thoughts on either, she did find one extra thing that made her realize that this professor was also hiding his true heritage. For as soon as she saw him and stared at him for a few moments, her Cerusian interface activated, showing her a message that she didn¡¯t know could be seen by others.
Hybrid Subject detected. Subject lacking adequate potential to awaken Cerusian system.
There it was, words confirming that someone else was also hiding their true identity. That or this person never had to dye their hair, or use contact lenses to blend into society. Seeing him, Arla found herself wondering about many things, chief among them, was could he somehow tell if she too was awakened? If so, what would it mean for her academic career? Then almost as if reading her thoughts, he pointed it out to her. ¡°You there, Ms. Proma I believe?¡± He asked. Hearing his question, Arla nodded. ¡°Perfect, had a fifty-fifty shot. Going off of what I just said, what is this symbol¡­¡± He said while pointing to a non-highlighted symbol, one that could take on one of four tones depending on which energy pattern was used to highlight the pictograph in question. Seeing the symbol, Arla could only pause and shake her head. ¡°Not paying attention, I see¡­ well this will affect your participation grade for today¡­¡± And like that, Arla had to sit through one of the most annoying classes of her life. One where the instructor was clearly wrong, but one where she was unable to correct him, for how would she truly know he was incorrect, without opening a whole can of questions that she did not want to answer. Then like that, a class that seemed to be an easy A, suddenly turned out to be anything but. Chapter 17 AI Legacy Chapter 17 AI Legacy ¡°All an AI Legacy is, is just disappointment waiting to be unleashed. They are not Gods, not long-lost lottery tickets waiting to be cashed in, but they are ticking time bombs of destruction, bound to cause history to repeat itself over and over again.¡± -Marcon¡¯s teachings of the rise of the second empire. The rule of threes. This was what was going through Arla¡¯s mind while she sat through her Academy assigned History class. While History was a standard subject, and AI Legacies were a noted important aspect of almost all space faring empires, Arla did find it intriguing how the subject of AI Legacies came up in her first day of the new class. Almost immediately after she received a map allegedly detailing the final resting spot for her own family¡¯s AI Legacy. Just the thought of such a device existing caused goosebumps to form on Arla¡¯s neck as this was it, her first real tangible connection to her biological father. A man who even Marcon owed multiple life debts to. In fact, Marcon was so indebted to her father that he took on responsibility for raising and training Arla until she was of an age when she could protect herself. The thought alone of being able to glimpse a part of her father, of his legacy was enough for Arla to at least try to visit and understand the man. A man whose convictions and actions alone were enough to cause others to themselves want to be better. Marcon¡¯s transition alone was enough to show how amazing her biological father truly was, for he so good, so pure, that he caused even Marcon to go against his heartfelt beliefs, to be better, to do more. That Arla felt was the true magic that her father had on the universe. For she saw it, that spark of brilliance burning brightly within Marcon. A spark that made him want to rise up and seemingly settle some of his bound karma by taking in Arla and raising her to his best. In her mind, Arla considered this to be the second tie to the AI Legacy. Or the second mental connection, the want to see the history and life of someone so powerful that they made even the mighty Marcon choose to be better. Then there was this lesson. ¡°In the beginning everyone was equal in terms of availability of artificial intelligence interfaces. Then as humans moved into space and met with other races, the logic strains of disparate groups began to break off and form more complex models that could demonstrate everything from how to build a toaster, to how to successfully mine a solar system of natural resources while setting up a habitable terraformed colony. In time these differing databases of knowledge and permutations of available information strings became known as AI Legacies, the most valuable resource in the universe.¡± Academy professor Dr. Sigmund Ta¡¯Klat quoted from his own class assigned textbook The Disparity Between Spacefaring Economic Clusters. The fact that the professor assigned their own textbook as the reference material for the class was a bit bombastic, but almost irrefutable coming from Dr. Ta¡¯Klat given his prowess and longevity in the field. Silence. After such a declarative statement, the professor paused, waiting for his information to settle in. ¡°No one has anything to say after hearing that?¡± Dr. Ta¡¯Klat asked. ¡°There is nothing to state,¡± one student near the front responded almost immediately. ¡°Nothing, no words on deviation, or the fact that given the starting base point all development of space and beyond should have followed at a relatively symmetrical rate throughout, but for whatever reason it didn¡¯t?¡± The professor asked. ¡°Well meeting the different spacefaring races and non-spacefaring races also impacted growth and development in certain sectors of the universe,¡± A female student added. ¡°There was also corruption of data.¡± ¡°Lest not forget, the AI legacy worms that bricked hundreds of solar systems.¡± ¡°Ahh, there we go, bricked. Does anyone know the etymology of that term?¡± The professor interjected. ¡°Isn¡¯t it a building block that individually does nothing, but only works when it connects to and with other blocks?¡± Yet another student responded. ¡°Yes, exactly. So why is it that a piece of equipment designed to be the building block that helps integrate a person into a better society, in this case an AI Legacy, is called a brick when it is rendered inert?¡± The professor challenged.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. During this time Arla scanned the room, mentally pacing the children, her fellow classmates, as they answered. Looking around, it became clear that many were lost in their own form of personal feeds, broadcasts about entertainment being piped into their ears. These were the obvious to notice as they were the ones who Marcon indicated were the easiest marks, for they often seemed distracted, which made pulling a con on them that much easier. Next, were the lost but trying students. These were the ones that seemed to want to speak, as noted by their facial expressions and ticks, but could not form thoughts quickly enough without doubting themselves, before their topic or statement would be irrelevant. Those were the thinkers, and oddly enough were the hardest marks according to Marcon. That is because they always thought about their statements and rethought until their point of impact was missed. The last group were those that were answering. The seemingly quick-witted speakers who had an answer, stated it immediately upon thinking about it, and went with their first choice, speaking loudly and clearly. According to Marcon, these were the best marks. While not as easy as the distracted marks, these were active, engaged, and most prone to being directed where you wanted them to go in a particular subject. This was proven, by the way the professor was systematically directing these talkative students to his ultimate goal. There was no doubt that many of these quick-witted students either hailed from or would soon be pulled into prominent families and industries. For they were sharp, often had good instincts and stuck to a decision and saw it through to the end. For these reasons this third choice of marks were ideal choices to get money from quickly. These were the marks that often thought fast, without truly evaluating every pitfall or challenge. They were mostly resolute with their first assumption, and often had money that could be easily parted with. All of these things made this first-class ideal one-time business partners. While the middle group, those that seemed slow but were actually calculating in their own regards were the ones to build long term strategic businesses with. These were the ones who would rather sit back and settle for the status quo than jump on something that was potentially unreliable. Seeing this dynamic in play in such a large setting was unique for Arla. Especially after being given time to evaluate each person. For while her mind did classify everyone into the category of the marks, there were also variations within those categories. Also, Arla saw that it was clear that this professor seemed to only cater to the elites, or rather those that would interact with his prompts. So lost in her evaluation of the class and the dynamics of the professor before them, that Arla was nearly caught off guard when the professor singled her out. ¡°You there, what are your thoughts on this?¡± The finger pointed at Arla was enough to startle her. While she knew she was the one being pointed at, she still used this moment to channel her mind and recall what had been said while she was looking round the room. ¡°Me?¡± Arla asked, as her mind began recalling the background noise from earlier and letting her hear the previous comments. ¡°That is a good point, why are some AI Legacies better than others, despite being forked off by one common ancestor?¡± Was the question that the professor had asked. ¡°Yes, you,¡± the professor confirmed in real time. ¡°The idea of forking is to take a product and split it, into two similar but unique instances of the same process. When an AI Legacy is forked, there can be multiple variations, everything from who takes over the unique Legacy, to the accounts and solar systems that are traversed while utilizing said Legacy,¡± Arla answered, mixing in a bit of her Cerusian training, in with what she picked up and read on her own about the Federation and its dependency on AI Legacies. ¡°The accounts, what do you mean by this?¡± The professor pressed, a faint smile going to his lips as he finally hit the topic that he had wanted from this seeming entire conversation. ¡°The accounts, as in those used by and held by the owner of a unique AI Legacy. These would be passed down from children to their offspring so that the money might never be lost. But they can also hide locations to invaluable storage places.¡± Arla answered. ¡°Yes, there we have it, the fabled pirate hiding spots. Treasure found, and plundered by your ancestors and hidden in a place that can only be identified or traversed by someone with a map. Or in this case an AI Legacy that will walk you through the exact path required. A tale as old as time, but one that still captivates everyone to this day. For there are pirates out there, waiting to capture those who find AI Legacies.¡± The professor noted. Hearing that, Arla could feel her body instantly tighten as she felt the weight and chill of those words course through her. For this was exactly what she had feared by the sudden interest that Dr. Lemishov had held in her findings. There was almost no doubt in Arla¡¯s mind that the image that Dr. Lemishov had in his head upon seeing the orb come to life was greed. Plain and simple, it was greed. One of the first emotions that Arla had been taught to recognize on sight. Mainly due to how close things were at first, before Marcon got Arla into the much more lucrative but equally dangerous course of Ignition Brokering. There the business model opened up, and the ones receiving the gifts were no longer of concern, but rather those that found out about the gifts. Which often gave enough time for Arla and Marcon to leave unnoticed before true calamities arrived. ¡°Now all many of us need to do, is to find a long lost relative with a hidden legacy. Dig it up, find their hidden bank accounts and stash points, and strike it rich,¡± the Professor began. ¡°Or you can do what I¡¯ve found myself accepting, in that all the AI Legacies have either been claimed, or are so outdated that their information is not truly relevant anymore and that they are only going to lead you to heartache and despair.¡± While the professor said this last part to the entire classroom, Arla couldn¡¯t help but feel that at least part of it was directed at her. Ding, ding, ding. A mechanical ringing resonated throughout the classroom denoting that the required time period for learning was now over. ¡°Ahh, there we have it. Sorry we didn¡¯t get to it today, but I will need you all to read ahead. Chapters 7 through 14. And write a 1,500-word essay on the different space faring races that humans have contacted throughout the years, and their impact on society as a whole. Bonus points for pointing out which ones have had a direct impact on this Academy.¡± And like that, they were all dismissed. Arla felt a lot going through her mind as she quickly noted the assignment before scampering out of the classroom. Then upon arriving at her next classroom her rules of three were once again noted. For there standing at the doorway was none other than Dr. Lemishov himself, greeting everyone as they made their way in. His eyes went particularly wide with desire and greed as he took sight of Arla. ¡°Ahh, my new prized student, so glad you could join us,¡± Dr. Lemishov stated, reaching out one soot covered hand to greet Arla. Seeing the stained hand, Arla realized that there was likely something in the dirt. Likely a tracking implement of some kind, or maybe a faint inhibitor, but Arla was well versed in dealing with these tactics. This was why she reached up grabbed the massive paw of a hand up high around the wrist and shook. Causing the mighty paw of a hand to slide past her own exposed hand and clasp her reinforced wrist guard. Seeing the move, Lemishov smiled. ¡°I see Marcon taught you well,¡± Lemishov quipped before releasing his grip and letting Arla passed. With that one test down, Arla realized that her challenges were just beginning. As she looked around the room, it was clear that she was both the youngest, and only pale faced person here. A distinction that caused everyone with hard earned mechanics tans to glare at her in disgust. It was clear that no one thought she deserved to be here, which was fine. It was all fine. She could deal with this, and she would. Chapter 18 Alternate Life Forms Chapter 18 Alternate Life Forms ¡°Hazing can come in many shapes and forms at the Academy. One of the biggest things to note, is that if upper classmen are gathered and looking around, seemingly waiting, know they are expecting you or other Freshmen to break an unwritten rule. Know that there are punishments for these unwritten rules.¡± -Warnings of Marcon on Academy Life. The day was over, mostly. The sun in all its brilliantly blazing red glory was setting off in the horizon. While the red coloration did dictate that the solar body was nearing its inevitable end, it had only begun its final processes. Despite its relatively new status as a still transitioning red star, the rise in temperature was apparent. Subtle things gave away the increasing temperature ranges, everything from the increased electrical fields that produced a protected biome of what most civilizations consider stable life bearing temperatures, to even the stone statues that littered the grounds. ¡°Wow, they are so lifelike,¡± a male student exclaimed as he looked directly into the eyes of one such statue. Hearing the comment, Arla paused her steps as she looked at the massive stone structure. Then with what could only be considered shock, or unbridled stupidity on the male student¡¯s part, he proceeded to not only touch the lifelike female statue but then proceeded to put his finger in her open mouth. To her shock and surprise, the statue didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t even flinch at the unwanted caress of an inner orifice. ¡°Wow, it¡¯s slightly damp in there,¡± the boy exclaimed excitedly. ¡°Probably from the blood of the last person who stuck their finger, or maybe something more within the statue¡¯s maw,¡± Arla quipped. At this, the boys who had all gathered around the statue to see the antics of their fellow Freshman just paused to look at Arla. Arla for her part just continued forward, but only enough to fully make out that four boys in all were nearby. A quick glance of their uniforms all confirmed that they were Freshman and likely missed the warning speeches about the characteristics of alien species. Looking around, Arla saw that there were other students who had gathered in this open walkway and training area. This was one of the open courtyards that both served as ambiance, fields to exercise in, and areas to ultimately relax in as well. All around the area were statues, many looked like this one, humanoid and extremely lifelike, while others looked to be images of famous moments or people from the Academy¡¯s history. In this case, the statue was of Female Admiral Gibson who led the 43rd Fleet to Victory. That information was freely available, and even provided on the listed plague that the boy was currently standing in front of so that he might caress and fondle the smooth lines of the stone statue. Startled. Hearing Arla¡¯s words, the boys all paused as they looked at her on her approach. For her part, Arla was going to choose a spot within this quadrant to begin her own evening set of exercises. A quick look around and scan of the area showed that there were no security cameras or electronic devices nearby. That alone should have been a warning to anyone attempting to do a spot of mischief, especially on such an advanced campus like this one. ¡°Yeah, she might just bite it off if you keep it there, she does look a little hungry,¡± a second cadet responded mockingly. At that, Arla just shook her head, still she felt it appropriate to at least give one last warning to these cadets before anything unfortunate were to occur. ¡°The Geminoids do not eat carbon-based life forms, despite their ability to mold their outer shell to any form desired,¡± Arla commented. ¡°Geminoid? What the heck is that?¡± Another of the boys quipped. By now, many of the older students who had been secretly eyeing the activity suddenly seemed to deflate at Arla¡¯s words. Not that the gaggle of first years seemed to notice. For to the other first year cadets, the only person who had their interest was Arla. ¡°They are myths, old rock people that allegedly existed and died out thousands of years ago,¡± yet a third boy quipped. He was clearly the smartest of the pack, but that didn¡¯t set him apart by much from what Arla was now seeing. Hearing that, Arla just shrugged. ¡°You were warned,¡± Arla admitted reluctantly. Then before leaving, she turned to the statue and spoke. Or rather, she let out a few long sharp piercing caw-like shrieks. As she made these sounds, she held out a pinky finger before rolling it away. Silence. For a moment, there was complete silence, before the boys quickly reacted to her seemingly random outburst. ¡°Okay, she is completely mental,¡± the fourth cadet piped up, a look of complete horror on his face as he tried to understand the girl that was cawing at the boy with his finger in the statue. RUMBLE.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Then at almost that exact moment, the statue began rumbling. The movements so violent and extreme that all of the gathered Freshmen seemed to react as if it was a minor earthquake. Those older students who pretended to also not be paying attention also reacted with fright. Especially after the solid stone eyes of the statue began to roll forward in their sockets. Now the stones that had appeared to be a bronze like brown color changed to reveal solid pearl like orbs with a dark vertical slit. ¡°What?¡± ¡°AHH!¡± The boys who had been gathered around the statue suddenly backed away quickly. The one who had been brave enough to violate the statue¡¯s mouth with his finger snapped his finger back so quickly, that he ended up tearing off a layer of flesh. All of this was before he backed away quickly, only to then trip over the commemorative plaque that noted Admiral Gibson¡¯s numerous achievements. This of course elicited the reaction that many of the upper classmen had all been waiting for, the moment when the statue would snap back and frighten away the Freshmen who didn¡¯t know any better. While this was happening, those pearl-like eyes, spun around and seemed to quickly scan the area, before darting forward and locking onto Arla. At the same time a slight smile began to form and break the outer shell of the statue that had up to that moment been perfectly formed for Admiral Gibson¡¯s stoic face, as she was caught in the act of yelling out a final command to an unknown and long forgotten crew. Feeling the eyes, of the one Geminoid statue on her, Arla could feel the weight and pressure that was held within that gaze. The gaze of a massive silicon-based life form. One that was at one point considered an unstoppable force on the battlefield, often capable of withstanding the fiercest of energy and kinetic attacks. Only their exceptionally slow breeding rates caused them to ultimately fall into obscurity. These were of course one of the alternate races that Arla had been instructed to find and document from an earlier class. Though she had already been warned about them. Well not these in particular, but on the characteristics of these odd creatures that were considered humanoid, but only because they could change their outer shells to look and appear like any form they saw. Truly the universe¡¯s ultimate changeling race. What always made Geminoids interesting to Arla was the fact that they were nearly indistinguishable from one another by carbon based life forms, but even while appearing exactly the same, they all supposedly seemed different to fellow Geminoids. Truly fascinating. Even the biometric scanners that were made, could not be altered or enhanced enough to distinguish between different Geminoids. Finally given the chance to view one up close, Arla herself just strode forward, never letting her gaze slip away from the statue. Instead, she let her mind and other senses reach out and try to analyze the Geminoid before her. ¡°You speak the language of the Providers?¡± The statue commented, using the Federation Standard equivalent Provider for the race that at one time had a symbiotic relationship with the Geminoids. The Geminoids language itself was too tough and grinding for any carbon life form to mimic, at least without the use of specially crafted tools. The tools in this case often resembled grinders that would be spun and moved in such a way to produce sounds. While Arla felt she could mimic the sounds with proper grinders, she herself didn¡¯t have any such grinders on hand. Thus, her option to go for the second language, that of the Providers. ¡°Yes,¡± Arla replied back in Federation Standard. ¡°Well met, young Provider,¡± the Geminoid statue spoke. By now, many of the upper classmen who had just been idly watching, waiting for the obvious jump scare, or even more likely the lost of a digit suddenly found themselves drawn forward at the way the statue was now conversing with someone. ¡°Well met,¡± Arla responded with a bow. ¡°Provider? What is this?¡± One of the boys asked, he looked like he was talking to the other boys of the group, but his eyes ultimately landed upon Arla. Arla for her part just continued to stare at the now active Geminoid, trying to memorize this entire experience to gain as much information as she could. This was a childhood dream come true, one that she intended to make the most of. Clap, clap, clap. By now one of the upper classmen with multiple cords wrapped around their left bicep strode forward and began providing an answer, as if he was exactly waiting for this precise moment. ¡°Providers, is the Geminoid name given to the Lostarians. The birdlike race on their initial home planet that developed a symbiotic relationship with the Geminoids in order to survive. See on their initial homeworld, the lands were very chaotic and filled with large cliffs, and deep watery depths. All the food the Lostarians could eat was fish, but the largest and most delicate fish lived deep under water, far away from the reach of the Lostarians. Yet, the Lostarians worked out a system where they would offer Gems and other rare metals to the Geminoids, in order for them to go down into the waters and force the fish upwards for a feast. Since the Geminoids don¡¯t breath oxygen the way carbon based lifeforms do, this was a perfect relationship. The Lostarians could fly around finding and mining invaluable resources that the Geminoids couldn¡¯t otherwise reach, while being able to survive due to the fish forced to move by the Geminoids.¡± The upper classman stated. As he spoke, a clear ding rang out on his omnipad, this was the completion chime. Arla figured this was likely due to a command cord requirement, which was the large red cord that was being worn currently by the officer candidate. Suddenly, the gaggle of upperclassmen also made sense, as many more had lesser braids that all depicted the same color, but at different intensities and sizes. ¡°That was to help maintain your leadership cords?¡± Arla asked the upperclassman. ¡°Indeed it is, though might I ask who you are, cadet?¡± The upperclassman asked, a note of curiosity in his voice. Hearing him, Arla instantly went to parade rest, feet apart, hands clasped behind her back as she spoke, ¡°This one is Cadet Proma.¡± ¡°At ease, Cadet.¡± The upperclassman noted, instantly removing the tension in the area. Then turning to the other freshmen cadets, the upperclassman continued, ¡°you would be well advised to understand the potential threats and pitfalls that exist in and around campus. Also know, that when you see an area without monitoring equipment, that you are not free to act openly. In fact, it is likely best to realize that in such areas, like this, that you are being watched more heavily than if you were just being surveilled electronically.¡± Buzz. With that, the upperclassman received yet another vibration to his communication¡¯s tablet. Indication that he had likely received even more mentorship points, at least that is what Arla figured. While it was her and her fellow Freshmen¡¯s job to go around, explore the campus and find out more information. It was the upperclassmen¡¯s job to offer guidance, and also try to deescalate potential problems that might arise. In this case, Arla figured that the statue moving was initially seen as a problem, thus the movement. But then after they were able to see that the statue seemed to be more curious than defensive about its personal space, the upperclassmen decided to back off. Taps. At the sound of music, everyone paused what they were doing. Then slowly everyone turned towards the center of the Academy and saluted, as the final song of day sounded, signifying that everyone was to get back and prepare for a new day. Frustrated exhale. Arla for her part had wanted to sneak in another workout, but it seemed that she was unable to, given her distraction. Yet, she couldn¡¯t help but turn back and see that the statue of the Admiral was once again standing perfectly still. The only movement was that of the eyes that tracked Arla¡¯s movements. Seeing the intensity of those eyes, Arla flinched for a moment. But then she did something that the statue had never expected, for she stared back with equal intensity. ¡°I think I can recognize you,¡± Arla spoke in that same strange cawing language of the Lostarians. At least that is the best translation her mind could come up with. Long slow rumble. Hearing the words, the statue called out in its native tongue, not the fake and mimicked language that it had somehow been able to pull off thanks to its doppelganger abilities, but the actual native language of the Geminoids. Hearing the sounds, it spoke of power, rolling boulders, and above all nature at its most primal level. Hearing the sounds, Arla could only nod, before responding, ¡°so we shall see. But that will have to be a challenge for tomorrow.¡± With that the statue began to crackle and shake as the outer skin of the neck region broke away, allowing the statue to move and nod its head in agreement. Once the acknowledgement was over, the pearl like eyes lingered on Arla for just a moment longer, before rolling back and once again only showing a statue that was all one bronze like color. ¡°What was that?¡± An upperclassman asked. ¡°It offered a challenge,¡± Arla responded as she began to leave the area. ¡°What kind of challenge?¡± One of the Freshman asked, falling in beside Arla as she made her way towards the Freshman dorm rooms. ¡°One to see if I could do as I claimed, to see if I could tell that Geminoid apart from the others,¡± Arla stated. ¡°Why is that a thing? Can¡¯t you just look for her at the same spot?¡± Another Freshman noted. With that, the upperclassmen that had apparently taken it as their role to walk the freshmen back to their dorms on time answered. ¡°No, the Geminoid, despite how they show themselves can change their shape and forms quickly. In fact, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if every statue in the park changed by this time tomorrow just to test out Cadet Proma here.¡± One upper classman added. ¡°Still though, good on you for getting them to at least talk to you. That is the most I have seen them interact with people in my entire four years here.¡± A female upperclassman noted. Hearing that Arla just nodded. Though in her mind she was already trying to memorize the resonance and energy vibrations that she felt from that statue, as opposed to the others. She was almost certain that she could distinguish them, based on their energy resonances alone, but would have to find out tomorrow. ¡°What do you think would happen if she could distinguish them?¡± One of the Freshman boys asked. ¡°Yeah, would she get a rock badge?¡± Another Freshman cadet joked. ¡°No, but there are benefits towards being accepted by the Geminoids,¡± the female upperclassman noted. ¡°Like what?¡± The first freshman cadet asked, the one who was still nursing his still raw finger in his hand. ¡°Like¡­¡± Chapter 19 Team Names Chapter 19 Team Names ¡°A name is something unique, something that identifies one person or group from their peers. To have a name is to have an identity.¡± -Anonymous ¡°Welcome to chub scouts, or as is listed on your schedules, extracurricular exercise. For those that are incoming, this is nothing more than a light workout designed to help get many of you into shape. And before you give me any of those old adages, round at least for your time here, is not a shape,¡± the instructor bellowed. Arla just listened, and performed the exercises as instructed. There was nothing wrong with trying to work harder to improve both your mind and body. Arla also used this as a litmus test, to see just how strong the normal students would get, if they performed all of the exercise programs offered to the students. This was obviously not going to include evening sessions that Arla would do on her own, but were meant as a means to gauge how much students who truly pushed themselves could expect to improve. Groans. Despite the relative ease of the movements, the other students let out verbal complaints about the level and conditioning expected of them. Of no real surprise to Arla, was the fact that almost all of the cadets in the S-Rank were assigned to extracurricular exercise classes. No doubt this was done to both fully wear out the S-Ranked individuals, preventing many for being able to go out and do dumb things with their powers. The second main reason for all but forcing S-Ranked cadets into extracurricular exercise was so that these Cadets could attune their bodies to be able to handle the stresses that S-Ranked powers will exert on a body. Fortunately for Arla, she had Marcon, who was aware of the strains that S-Ranked potentials placed on one¡¯s body. Of particular concern were the stresses placed on a young body. It was Marcon¡¯s training that made it so Arla had no trouble adapting to the intense regimen offered. By comparison these exercises could barely be considered a nice warmup compared to a typical Marcon workout. Still, this was good as it would help her blend in. ¡°Cadet Hylinch, are you already quitting on me?¡± The instructor called out, all but demanding everyone turn their attention towards the one cadet who had wobbling arms and could barely raise themselves off the ground. ¡°No Drill Instructor,¡± Lyria called out, as she desperately tried to get her body off the ground once more. ¡°You wanted to be class captain, didn¡¯t you? Going so far as to all but have a mutiny if you didn¡¯t get it, yet look at you. You and all your mutanteers are all so weak and pathetic, that you make me sick,¡± the instructor called out and then gestured to the other S-Ranked students who registered with Lyria, as also having trouble keeping up with the exercises. By comparison, the other students in the A-Rank with Arla were clearly nearing their body¡¯s limits, but they refused to show such contrition. Instead, they just continued to push themselves. The only S-Ranker who was not present was the boy, the one that Arla was fairly certain was not having a hard time keeping up on the first morning of exercises. ¡°In fact,¡± the Instructor went on, ¡°I think that is what I am going to call you all the Mutanteer.¡± By that statement the Instructor proved he either purposefully used the wrong word, or just doubled down on his mistake and now preferred to call these students by this less than stellar nickname. ¡°You already got your name for your group there Battle?¡± The Instructor assigned to Arla¡¯s group of students called out. ¡°I believe I do, honestly looking at this batch of misfits, I can¡¯t think of a better name to describe the lot of them,¡± the S-Rank Instructor called back. Then he seemed to roll over the word in his mouth, the same way one would speak if they found that they had suddenly swallowed a fly, ¡°Mutanteers, yep a terrible name for a terrible class of cadets. One would think for people born with S-Rank potential, they would be more inclined to work out, if for nothing else than to make sure their own bodies didn¡¯t explode while using their powers.¡± This was likely a myth, while using powers in a body that was not fit enough to contain said powers could cause rupturing of blood vessels and other organs, particularly in the elderly, complete explosion of bodies was almost impossible. It was especially impossible in bodies that were young and able to adapt to the changes.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Not for the first time, Arla found herself wondering about randomly giving out seemingly unlimited power to individuals, but ultimately held back. As Marcon had put it, when she had such objections earlier, ¡°It is no different than giving millions of credits to a financially irresponsible person that will blow through the money in no time. All you did was offer the chance for these people to change for the better. What they did with that chance is on themselves.¡± That was Marcon¡¯s way of telling Arla to get over the fact that one of her symbiotic bonds died within hours of receiving their recently enhanced set of powers. ¡°What about you battle?¡± The S-Ranked Instructor asked, ¡°got any ideas for platoon names?¡± With that, Arla¡¯s instructor looked over the platoon of A-Rankers and seemed to take in everyone. While they looked down at everyone, Arla was the only one who looked back. Never missing a beat with the prescribed set of exercises. At first it was clear that the Instructor was not impressed by the cadets she saw. It was only once she turned her gaze to see Arla that something inside her shifted. ¡°Lurkers.¡± ¡°Lurkers?¡± The S-Rank instructor asked. ¡°Yes, the Lurkers. They will sit around, watching you, only to wait for the moment that they can strike you down.¡± The Instructor replied, as they stared directly back at Arla. In that glance there was a bit of an increase in tensions, until Arla finally nodded her head in acceptance of the name and its seeming implications. ¡°Haha, got a bunch of creeps over there?¡± The S-Ranked instructor questioned while laughing. ¡°A few creepy ones, not going to lie,¡± Arla¡¯s Instructor called back, as she once again made eye contact with Arla, before looking over the rest of her platoon. Ding. At that, the sound of the morning assembly bell chimed out. ¡°Form up,¡± the Instructors all called out in unison. With this, the students who had all been a part of extracurricular exercises lined out. Then they waited for those students who chose not to participate in extracurricular exercises. At this, Arla saw the same S-Ranked individual form up, and seem to fall in line at the end of S-Rank¡¯s platoon, which just so happened to put him next to Arla. As he fell in, he gave a broad smile and whispered, ¡°fancy meeting you here.¡± Hmph. Arla knew all too well not to get caught up in gossip and chatting while in a platoon. Instead she just turned her body and face forward and waited. After the light warmup, one where many of the extracurricular students had a hard time even stretching properly, they were informed to run around the quad and come back. Not given any more instruction, the platoons were lined up and told to go. Arla tried to be nice, she tried to let the S-Ranked cadets keep the lead that was afforded them by their start position. But soon found that many of the S-Rankers were too tired to run, and quickly found themselves falling to the back of the formation. Realizing that this would only cause Lyria and the others still more trouble later on, Arla just shook her head and soon fell into her own rhythm. With all but a few S-Rank and A-Rank students falling away from her, Arla found her mind sinking into a zone that was only achievable by the Zen state of running. As she moved, she found her eyes and body looking out, seeing the instructors who were placed along the route, no doubt trying to catch students who tried to relax in hidden out of the way areas. Arla moved, feeling multiple sets of eyes on her, but never letting any of them truly unnerve her. Instead, she just ran and used the moment to let the world around her fade away. She chose a pace that was not her fastest pace, but one just ahead of the other students that no one try to surpass her while running. From this state, she just blurred out her mind, went over her class and workload for the day. Planned her breaks, and overall just found her mind having a moment to catch up to what was expected of her. That was the great thing about running, here in this state, this was her time. As long as she kept running, her mind could wander where she wanted it to go. While her body might be forced to go places out of her control, her thoughts, her ideas, her calm, these were all things that no one could take away from her. As she neared the quad, it was clear that many of the instructors had pulled away. No doubt, willing to let the Geminoid statues warn of any students who took this time to dilly dally. Again, Arla did nothing to break this implied trust from this task. That is why she ran. Though as she ran, she took in a number of differences to the quad. These were subtle differences from last night to now, but ones that could seem to imply something greater. First and foremost, the statue that had been Admiral Gibson had moved and been replaced. Glancing around, Arla soon found that quite a few others had also shifted platforms. The ones that Arla knew to somehow be denser and therefor more powerful stood next to the new Geminoid that took the form of the fabled Admiral. Also of note, the Geminoid that took over the form of the Admiral had a lot more gems and unique particles. If Arla had to guess, this replacement statue was someone important. If for no other reason than the fact that it had powerful bodyguards surrounding it now, meant something. But there was also the fact that this Geminoid was intent on watching all of the students that ran past. This was also odd, as the last statue chose to roll their eyes up into their skull, while this one looked on with almost glowing emerald eyes. Those giant emeralds for eyes, those were the sign of a true leader of the Geminoid and is believed to be how this species got their name to begin with. Honestly, the look from true emerald eyes was slightly unnerving, as there seemed to be something dead in that glare. Still Arla did nothing to draw attention, at least she thought she didn¡¯t. However, upon locking gazes with the statue, she could almost swear the statue made the faintest of head nods in her direction. Then blinking away, she looked and saw that the statue had seemed to revert back to its original position, the only difference being that the left hand which had a finger raised in a seeming come hither gesture. Noting the seeming change, Arla nodded and then made her way to the turning spot and went back to the start location. While she was the first one back, she felt the tension of someone staring at her dissipate as the runners from behind her suddenly caught up and were able to move past her back to their starting positions. To no real surprise the man with the pearly white smile was one of the first people back. While Arla was already in her squad leader position and stretching out comfortably. The S-Ranker by contrast was clearly wheezing as if having pushed himself too hard for too long. As he got back, they made eye contact and Arla again nodded. Panting. The boy opened his mouth as if wanting to speak, but then chose better of it, as he could only begin to regain some semblance of normalcy before others also came back. Of note, Lyria and the other newly Ignited S-Rankers were among the last to arrive. Which only further cemented their need for extra training. Still the lines had been drawn, and Arla knew what was being requested of her. That was why later that night, after everyone had left, Arla found herself heading towards the very statue that had seemingly called for her to come earlier that day. Long melodic rumbling. ¡°So you came?¡± The Geminoid statue who had taken over as Admiral Gibson began to say in their odd native gravely tongue. As they spoke, Arla could feel the attention of the statues all turning her way, letting her know that this would be a test of some kind, but of what, she was not certain. Chapter 20 Silicon Struggles Chapter 20 Silicon Struggles ¡°You requested me?¡± Arla asked in the squawking language of the Lostarians, her tone calm despite the imposing form of dozens of Geminoids now taking the moment to gather around her. The moving of a Geminoid who was posing as a statue was a big no-no. Anyone who watched and studied the statues would see their movements. While each had not left their perfectly supported platform, it was clear that all now faced towards the statue of Admiral Gibson, and more importantly Arla, the person who now stood in front of Admiral Gibson. Hearing the rumble, the silent grinding of stone against stone was often unsettling for most, especially those with superior hearing. Many claiming the sound was akin to hearing fingers on a chalkboard. Not that Geminoids knew what this was, but their movements were often a way to gauge both the power rating and general exposure level of a particular individual to Geminoids. Without so much as scrunching up her neck, or having other reactionary impulses, it was clear that the person before them was weak. Likely possessing Attributes that were well below the threshold needed to hear and register the sounds of their movements. Seeing this lack of reaction, exiled princess Sapphire only grimaced inwardly at the sight. For a moment she had dared to hope, dared to think that this creature could have been special. After all Arla had somehow learned the bartering language of the servant race, implying at least a passing interest in their culture. But in order for her to be truly needed, she would need to be able to assist in matters much greater than she was currently capable of. Still, there was the baseline for future assistance. The fact that she could speak to them, and could recognize subtle shifts in gestures spoke to their being more to this girl. ¡°I did, I wanted to see the promising Freshman everyone spoke so highly about,¡± princess Sapphire began in her deep rumbling languages. ¡°And?¡± Arla eventually squawked back in a long drawl that indicated annoyance. This annoyance struck a chord within princess Sapphire, she had to endure a lot in his time. Being exiled in a war she was too young to have started and contributed to. Having only a smattering of her personal guard left to attend to her while in exile. Having to hide in plain sight, lest she be attacked. All the while waiting to find species and resources that could assist her and her people¡¯s rise back to power. It was all frustrating, worse, princess Sapphire had to endure the constant gawking and ridicules from those who were deemed lesser. From species who would be ripped apart by the smallest movements of their bodies. With the subjects defiance evident in her tone, and body posture, it was all too much to take in. Which was why princess Sapphire¡¯s body began moving on its own. Before she could fully stop herself, she moved, her hand lashing out, and striking at the being. While she had been filled with rage, she was not so out of her mind as to blatantly kill a student. Which was why she only went for an open throat grab of the lesser being. What happened next was a blur to even to the princess¡¯s enhanced senses. Where princess Sapphire¡¯s bronze coated granite hand struck out was nothing. The area that had held a bag of flesh and blood a moment ago, now held only open air. Glow. At the same time a bright blue glow began to appear to the right. A bright glow that was both blinding in its sudden appearance in the cover of darkness that covered the park and violent in the way it erupted with seeming blue sparks, before being lunged into princess Sapphire¡¯s now outstretched arm. Shatter. What happened next was something spoken about in memoirs of the fall. Her arm, made of the strongest materials was struck. Not just struck, but violently severed with forces unseen and unknown to her. The movement was quick. Had Sapphire herself not seen the attack in its entirety, she would have assumed a deep vibrio blade with a plasma cutting edge was used to make the precision strike. Instead, it was just a hand. A hand shaped like a knife that was coated in a layer of blue energy that burned and seemed to painfully vibrate its way through her arm. Then as if to emphasize the fact that it was just a hand, the girl, this bag of flesh, just stood there for a second. Her vertical glowing hand remained in the air, after the princess¡¯s outstretched right stump of an arm.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. It took a moment for her mind to process that everything below her elbow was now gone. Shatter. Of course, to further emphasize what had just happened, the sound of heavy stone falling and shattering could be heard. Sapphire did not need to look down to see what had happened, for she could already tell. Her arm had been severed clean off and fallen, where upon impact with her solid resting plate, had shattered. Shock. For a moment the world stood still, as Sapphire¡¯s mind began to process the pain that was coursing through her. While the Geminoids had many advantages, like the ability to not bleed out, something that flesh-bags like the monster before her had to worry about. In fact, the idea that she lost an arm was not a game changer, for she could even regrow the lost arm. With enough resources and time to heal, her carbon form could once again be manipulated enough to have a fully functional appendage. There would always be a Faultline at the mark of the injury, akin to what flesh bags would call a scar, making that part easier to break in the future. All of these were signs that while damaging and extremely painful for princess Sapphire. Particularly painful was the way that pain seemed to resonate and vibrate up her right arm, as if even more of her carbon was being shaken loose from the one attack. No, the worst part was that she hadn¡¯t seen the attack. Or rather, despite even seeing the blue glow, her mind and body were too slow to react to the sudden sense of danger. Even now, all she could do was look down at the mangled pile of debris that had once been her arm. Thud, moan, grind. The sound of movement could be heard all around. This was to be expected of her personal guard, as she, their princess, had just been accosted. While the flesh bags would likely rule the attack was made in self-defense, it was still an attack on their princess. Blue glow. Princess Sapphire saw the same blue glow, and a note of fear rose within her as she looked up and saw the blue glowing warrior seeming to stand still for a moment, even going so far as to move a few paces to the side to allow easier access to the princess. Rather than going to her, to princess Sapphire, her guards went to attack the interloper, the cause of Sapphire¡¯s current distress. ¡°Stop,¡± princess Sapphire wanted to cry out, but found her voice catch in her throat, as residual vibration pains still coursed through her. Whatever she had been hit with had lingering aftereffects that were still causing her body trouble with trying to overcome. Thud, slice. Her words never came. In the end, all princess Sapphire could do was stare in amazement as she watched what unfolded next. Flesh bags, the names given to most carbon-based lifeforms, were often considered to be faster. By comparison, silicon-based lifeforms while able to move quickly, particularly after years of hardening and smoothing out their joints had multiple advantages. The primary advantage of Geminoids was that they were stronger, more durable, and able to live on indefinitely. This longevity meant that so long as ample resources were available, they could constantly improve their forms and outer shells to be unstoppable. While princess Sapphire was young for her kind, having only lived a few centuries, she had the very best resources available to her. By comparison, her headguard had lived for millennia and while having some of the best materials available, still had room to grow. Despite not having the very best of materials, it was undeniable that Lazul should easily be able to handle the creature before it. This was why she was in shock when Lazul first swung its weapon at the flesh bag. The weapon of course was a further extension of Lazul¡¯s own body. Just as princess Sapphire could regrow an arm past her now stump, Lazul had done something similar by crafting a permanent weapon at the end of his left arm. In this case, the growth was made into the shape of a stylized broadsword allegedly used by the flesh bag he was mimicking. Slice. Lazul hade a wide arcing slash that cut down and to the right. With reflexes that seemed to defy flesh bag convention, the girl dodged. Rolling low, spinning inward, the creature was feral. Moving like a squirrel would, or other small fleshy creature. Yet, unlike a squirrel, this fleshy creature was large, odder still, it had not one but two glowing hands now that slashed out. Once again, Sapphire was shocked to see the fact that the fleshy creature chose to attack with straightened hands. From her experience and knowledge of the people, straight hands were generally weaker and prone to breaking. Yet, the energy coating the hands must have protected them, as both hands dug in, at the inside of both of Lazul¡¯s legs. Then with a quick precision like cut, the flesh bag slashed out and carved her way through the two legs. Not fully, as her hands were not long enough to fully cut through the legs of the massive warrior that Lazul was impersonating. Instead, what happened was, the cuts were so painful that they caused Lazul, the first protector of the princess to momentarily pause in pain. Had Princess Sapphire herself not feel the agony for herself, had she not felt jolts of pain that were even now shooting their way through her own body, she would have been angered by the sight. Instead, all she could do was look on with horror and sadness, as the flesh bag used that moment of forced pain to rise up, still inside the arc of the sword that now hung motionless in the sky. Then never stopping her rising motion, nor the glow from her hands she struck out and shattered the face of Lazul. His face was gone. Not cracked, not broken, but gone as if cut off somehow. Sapphire had heard tales of this, how Lazul himself used his sword to cut off the faces of flesh bags. While this was not a death blow to the Geminoids, for only true death came with the destruction of their cores that existed within their outer layers of silicon and carbon. The blow had been enough to effectively blind and cripple the first guard. There was a pause as time seemed to stand still. The other guards who had been running over to assist, now stood in shock. Then time seemed to start up, as the seemingly off balance Lazul began to rock backwards. With shock Sapphire noticed how Lazul began to fall. For a moment, it almost looked like the final act would be an inadvertent decapitation of the flesh bag, as the sword still stayed behind the creature, despite the falling of Lazul¡¯s body. However, even this seemed to be but a trifle for the girl who seemed to take in the whole situation and with a now non-glowing right hand, just gently pushed Lazul¡¯s left arm, the one holding the sword, away. That tiny motion, made by a flesh bag was enough to move falling stone away. Thud. With that, the mighty Lazul fell to the ground. Cracks and fissures formed from the sudden fall, but fortunately everything stayed attached. Even the legs, legs that had been cut through mid-thigh still remained in tact, if barely. ¡°Get the sand,¡± Garnet, the second in command called out. There was a moment of tension as many of the guards came close to the flesh bag. However, it was clear that the flesh bag was done fighting, at least for now as she held up her two non-glowing hands and began to slowly walk backwards, away from everyone. Only now, after seeing that the flesh bag took down her most elite soldier, and managed to momentarily cripple her, did princess Sapphire realize that she might have underestimated the girl. The girl began to move away, as more guards came to tend to princess Sapphire, with only a few going over to immediately work on Lazul. ¡°Wait,¡± princess Sapphire called out to the flesh bag, wanting to at least know the girl¡¯s name. For it was clear that this flesh bag was special in some way. ¡°Your carbon is too weak,¡± the girl hissed in the cawing language of the Lostarians, as she turned her back and began to walk away. Princess Sapphire had known that this was an ancient insult, but only now could she realize why. ¡°Don¡¯t worry princess, we should be able to help you get to some semblance of normalcy here in a bit,¡± Lithic began, as she poured cool sand over her open stub that send waves of calm throughout her body. Pour. Off in the distance, Sapphire could hear other bags of sand being poured over Lazul as well. How had it all gone so wrong? Worse, they couldn¡¯t report this, as it would only show weakness on her part. ¡°We should inform the school, they will find and punish her,¡± Lithic hissed as she began trying to attach broken pieces of her shattered arm back to her, using the sand to meld the broken pieces together. ¡°We can¡¯t, if it got out that a simple first year was able to abuse us, then imagine what the others would do.¡± Princess Sapphire began, then thinking about it for a moment, she continued her thoughts, ¡°no, we will need to come up with other plans for her.¡± Interlude II Interlude II Somewhere out beyond the edge of the reign of the current empire, a lone stealth vessel made landfall. Silence, even puncturing the abnormally dense atmosphere of the strange alien planet caused no sound as the ship was both silent and powerful enough to maneuver and adjust gradually to increasing atmospheric pressures and gravity. The entire time, the lone occupant of the vessel remained quiet, with no one to talk to, no one to share his thoughts with, there was no need to speak. Needlessly speaking is a way to show your true weakness to others, the man thought to himself as he forced himself to remain quiet, despite the fact that no one could hear him speak. This was good practice, and that¡¯s what the pilot chose to focus on, his training. As he approached the landing zone, he found that despite the time from his last arrival here, the landing pad remained unchanged. This was of course to be expected, as he chose a flat outcropping of abnormally dense rocks as the place to land. Years ago, a structure of importance once stood here, but time had made its mark on the old building, leaving only minor traces behind. A few posts of wood that had not fully rotted down to the root. A few glass shards that had not weathered away, and most importantly the mound of dirt and stone that now drew this silent pilot to come and visit one last time. Disturbance. Despite the near calm of his landing spot, and the fact that only the faint gusts of wind could be felt coming over the mountains and whipping him in the face, the pilot grew weary. Years of training kicked in, as he looked around, then finding nothing decided to do what he came here for. His purpose. This was why, out here, in the middle of nowhere, the old pilot gave one quick readout of the atmosphere around him, proving that it was still within his body¡¯s limitations of being able to process. Once that was confirmed, he nodded to himself and released the binding seals for his mask, and instantly felt the crisp air of his home world fill his nostrils. It was a pleasant and comforting scent. A scent that can only truly be described with notes of nostalgia and childhood memories. Breathing deeply, he once again paused as he felt the disturbance, this time more emphatically than before. For a moment he thought about calling out to the disturbance, but soon realized that this would not solve anything, for the disturbance would only come out and present itself if it truly wanted to. That was why, despite everything the old pilot made his way forward, kneeled down to one knee before the unmarked pile of stone and dirt and just thought and meditated for a moment. During this meditation he collected his thoughts, and finally spoke. ¡°I¡¯ve done it.¡± Those three words, were all the old pilot could speak, yet they said both everything and nothing all at once. Still, despite knowing that this much was enough, should be enough to assuage the guilt that still resided in his heart, he continued.Stolen novel; please report. ¡°As I promised, I gave her the best chance I could.¡± The old man continued, then as if a dam had been broken, the words poured forth, in the form of diarrhea and cathartic release combined. ¡°Though I failed many, many times, in the end I like to think I got it right. Or she was more resilient than I had any right for her to be. Still, it is done, she is where you planned of her, and has now been given the best chance to succeed.¡± There was a moment of silence, as the pilot breathed deeply for a few moments, as if trying to regain his otherwise stoic composure, and calm down his breathing. He waited there for a moment, as if wondering if anything else should be said. Seeing if anything, else needed to be said. ¡°I guess this makes us finally even,¡± the old pilot quipped, then a faint smile filled his stubbly face as he thought of a particularly funny joke. A joke that he intended to share, ¡°though that said, if you had anything else to say, I wouldn¡¯t mind hearing it.¡± Silence. Only the faint rustling of the winds over the peaks could be heard whipping about. At that, the pilot just nodded, waiting for the faint winds to die down. ¡°Figured as much. Well, good seeing you,¡± the pilot said as he stood up from his kneeling position and even gave a crisp two finger salute from the side of his face. Taking one last glance down at the makeshift grave. A grave that the pilot remembered crafting by hand from the rubble of the nearby house. Even now, thoughts of why this man wanted to be buried here filled him, yet he stayed silent. Just letting the moment sink in, and turning about, while the thoughts of never coming back here filling his mind. He made his way for his ship to leave, with each step away, the resolve of leaving and never coming back becoming more assured with each and every stride he took. Gentle breeze. Then as if summoned by his thoughts of never coming back, a voice called out to him. A voice from his past. One that sent shivers of chills, joy, and disgust all throughout his body. ¡°She survived?¡± The soft and strangely angelic voice of a female called out. While the pilot didn¡¯t want to turn around, to play into her game, he did glance over his shoulder at the figure that had suddenly appeared to his sense of sight. Though he had known she was there the whole time. That or at least that is what his instincts had been screaming at him about. For a moment, the pilot thought about using this moment as a second chance, maybe even a third chance to speak with her. He thought about it, and then like everything in his life, he decided no attachments was better than something that could be used against him. With that thought in mind, he gave a one-word reply, ¡°who?¡± Silence. At that one word, the high and mighty elf, a being who lorded over being prim and proper began to grow visibly agitated. These were small things, the clenching of fists, the trembling of her body as she fought to maintain pure dignitary status, but they were there if you knew what to look for. Most importantly, there was that fire in her eyes. Seeing those eyes sent chills down his spine as he remembered the first time she looked at him like that. It was the first time they spent a night together. No doubt locking gazes with the pilot caused similar memories to flourish within the elven dignitary¡¯s mind, for she suddenly seemed to look on in shock. Particularly at the way the pilot now smiled widely at her. ¡°You,¡± was all she could muster, as she once again fought to regain control over her mind and body. Seeing that he still had that same effect on her, the pilot smiled coyly, gave a wink, turned his head back, and began walking away. ¡°Where is she?!¡± The elven dignitary shouted, rage filling her voice. Hearing this, the pilot smiled even brighter, if such a thing was possible as got to the first step of his nearly vertical climb up into his single person space cruiser. ¡°You had your chance, I dropped her off to you. She knew everything. Even said how she didn¡¯t show fear when you tried to intimidate her. She was so proud, and I knew she was beyond perfect for you all. And you refused her,¡± The pilot responded, once again feeling his words get away from him. But this was well deserved, for he had been holding this back for a long time. His words had their intended effect, as she seemed to visibly struggle as she came to terms with what had just been said. ¡°Wait, she could feel it?¡± The elven dignitary asked. ¡°Yeah, scared the dickens out of her. But she faced it head on and stoically as I taught her to,¡± the pilot answered, more than a little pride filling his words. ¡°This, this can¡¯t be¡­¡± she trailed off as her thoughts clearly raced through her mind. ¡°Where is she? She must be brought in?¡± With that the pilot just smiled a vindictive smile. ¡°Who knows for sure,¡± he responded and with that he began climbing up into the cockpit of his craft, before sealing the ship behind him. After that, there were a number of checks and pressurized seals that needed to be locked into place. Bannisters of filled carbon filters had to be expelled, while new reserves of fresh oxygen were resupplied. He even took a moment to refill his vents on his space suit, while checking on his solar chargers. Seeing that he managed to completely fill up his reserves while he was out, made it even easier to leave. The entire process of prepping his shuttle for takeoff took at most a third of an hour. Just before he was done and about to leave, he gave one last cursory scan of the area, half expecting to see the elven dignitary there standing and waiting for him to respond. For a moment he hoped she was there, only to see that if she was, then she was hiding in plain sight. He could do a quick thermal scan for her, but decided against wasting the energy on such an act. Instead, he just set about his warm up processes, letting his systems begin their first separation from the ground, then through the air, and finally his long slow process out of the planet¡¯s atmosphere. He went slow, partly to preserve his vehicle and let it last longer. Though he would be lying if he didn¡¯t want to take in the sunrise of his birth planet one last time, before he headed off to where his next adventure awaited. Chapter 21 A Broken Brokerage (Three Weeks Later) Chapter 21 A Broken Brokerage (Three Weeks Later) ¡°Eventually, you get to a point where you either commit to the con or drop bait entirely and plan your escape.¡± -Marcon, on choosing a simple life and settling down. Not all fixes are equal. That motto was readily apparent as apparently some students seemed to burn through their standard dosage of power faster than others. This was seemingly particularly true for students who had a lower baseline starting point than the others. How did Arla know this? Simple, her caches were being messed with early. She still got paid, her dummy accounts would ping and slowly siphon money into and throughout the universal exchanges that would ultimately wind up in accounts owned and controlled by Arla directly. Monthly subscriptions fees for gym memberships that were never used, that was a primary method of payment. That gym membership would then pay taxes on the monthly fees, then have expenses. Expenses in the form of monthly consultations, diet plans, and other means to explain such a high quality gym membership cost. All of these ultimately tricked down to Arla. The trickling of funds was made in such a way that the government was more than happy, easily earning over 60% of her funds from taxes, by the time the process was all sorted and complete. Nothing tied back to Arla, and nothing tied back to the fact that every payment was calculated in her ultimate plans. This was not a get rich quick scheme. This was a get rich slowly scheme that would be hidden under layers upon layers of Federation red tape, jurisdictions and commercial clauses. How else could one truly justify the exorbitant price of making and hiding away storage nooks all around a campus that should be monitored from every angle. Arla was a runner, at least that was her cover that she used to justify her going around campus, running different circuits, and dropping off next level doses in storage caches. At first, it was thought that leaving markers around campus between the two classes would be a way to go, to let her know when to replenish the stocks. In the end, it was the payments that made the most sense. Monthly renewable gym membership subscriptions could be purchased. The trick was, letting the user note how many hours they spent working out on a secondary fitness app. An app that ultimately signaled to Arla 48 hours before the next shipment that a resupply was needed. At first, Arla had started restocking right away, but the girls were needy, apparently. That or these girls found ways to burn through their supplies slightly faster each and every few weeks. Still, the money was great. The only problem that Arla saw in this whole arrangement was how strung out the newly minted S-Rankers seemed to look as time went on. Especially as the fake twelve were all put into classes that would help condition their poorly maintained bodies. Something that stood out when compared to the one male who had not been boosted in any way. These were not concerns for Arla, yet. But Arla saw the writing on the wall. The faux S-Rankers were getting sloppy. Instructors were beginning to ask questions. Questions that could get the twelve imposters followed and could ultimately lead back to Arla. The time was coming soon, when Arla would likely have to be forced to make permanent changes to these twelve interlopers, Lyria included. A change that would require a few personal boundaries that Arla had built up to be dissolved. Having seen the future herself, where she gained glimpses of the most likely set of futures available, she saw this very act. During her visions, she saw a few scenarios play out. The first led to multiple expulsions and her ultimate dismissal. Another led to her constantly changing her hiding spots and sending new locations to Lyria. The third option was the more permanent and would require a much larger payday for her to continue. Not that any of the twelve had a problem with this, as each came from a family of mega rich and entitled children. Children who were seemingly born into power. In her mind, Arla already knew what the going rate for a permanent boost would be. As she had worked with Marcon on the pricing of each permanent boost, and the fluctuations based on supply, demand, and most importantly what happened when a rival got a boost. For a moment, Arla almost contemplated having a bidding war proceed. One that would start by turning Lyria permanently into an S-Ranker. Then having her show off not having to suffer withdrawal like symptoms. Symptoms that Arla herself had felt and could now easily see it in these others.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The only problem, well the major problem was, right now these S-Rankers, despite their obvious external social status, were manageable. Right now, if any became too obnoxious, Arla could just cut them off and leave them to suffer. If things went on, then she would be rich. But what is wealth, when people above you are obnoxious and entitled. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s that annoying girl,¡± B. Murphy, one of the S-Rankers that originally drew attention to herself while enrolling spoke out to her friends. A quick glance told Arla all she needed to know. Namely the fact that Lyria was not there, which meant she could not help detract or distract the group from their newly identified target of derision. ¡°Hey you, new girl,¡± another of the girls spoke out. Mentally, Arla counted to three as she slowly made her way away from the pack. Having been an outsider for so long, Arla was well aware of how to avoid most conflicts, especially when people were seemingly looking to create an incident. The easiest way of getting people to back down was oddly enough facing them head on and being unrelenting in your communication with them. ¡°Hello, I am Cadet Proma, not ¡®Hey You,¡¯ ¡®that girl,¡¯ or any other variation of the above,¡± Arla stated her words cold, but her hand held out as if in a casual greeting for the first time. Her sudden abruptness and dismissive demeanor to the S-Rankers who had up until this point been kowtowed to by the other students and most of the staff seemed to be taken aback by her stern and authoritative approach. ¡°Uh, um,¡± the second girl stammered for a bit as she looked at the imposing hand. Then a seemingly malicious smile filled her face as she all but pulsed with green Body Fortification energy, with the majority of her energy focusing on her hand and the arm muscles attached to her body. This was an act that Arla had anticipated. To say that most people had a personality that seemed to match their given powersets was a fair assessment. That or, one grew with the initial ability to master any and all powers, but by choice and circumstances had their personalities formed, which would then predicate the types of powers one would be able to achieve. This was a strong variant of Earth energy, which normally implied that the people utilizing such powers would be calmer. Yet, there was also the stereotype that they were generally slower, which this Cadet clearly seemed to exhibit traits of. Arla knew the girl because she was in a few of their common core classes. All of which Arla was fairly certain the girl was either failing outright or being passed due to her perceived potential to the Federation. This was something Arla had expected, but still found herself oddly disappointed by, that is the fact that a student would be passed due to their perceived future value, rather than on their current effective value. Still, Arla let this moment play out, having experienced many similar moments, there were only a number of ways that this could go, and it was best to get them all over with as quickly as possible. That was why when the hulking brute of a girl grinned evilly at Arla, going so far as to show her teeth, Arla prepared to not hold back in her handshake. Grip. Just as expected, the overly muscular girl, reached out and squeezed. Or at least she tried to squeeze, Arla just held the hand there for a moment, not applying any grip strength of her own. Most would have recognized the moment and realized that there was no reaction and moved on. There were a number of reasons for this obvious disparity in strength. First the application of Body Fortification cold only enhance the abilities that were there. Meaning that if someone never worked out, or at least never practiced their grip strength, at least not to the extent that Arla had, then they would logically not be able to multiply their effectiveness enough to make any real difference. Next was the fact that despite not looking it, Arla was strong, focusing on condensing her muscles, rather than expanding. Preferring to be in the old adage of being to be strong, as opposed to looking strong. All of this was to explain that when the brute of an S-Ranker chose this moment to exert dominance, nothing happened. A pause. The girl looked momentarily stunned by the event. Now if she took her hand back and thought about things, Arla would let the incident go. However, the girl pushed, so Arla pushed back. Angry grip. Seeing the initial failure, the female cadet doubled down. Opting to grit her teeth, lean in and all but massage the back of Arla¡¯s hand with her thumb. This was where Arla stopped holding back and applied pressure. Snap. Almost immediately Arla felt the metacarpal of the pointer and pinky finger break under her squeeze. A bit too much force, but Lyria was a healer and would hopefully be able to heal this girl before too long. Drop. Immediately, after the neurons fired to the brain of the Body Fortification girl, she dropped to her knee as the pain in her hand was suddenly too intense to bear. ¡°I yield,¡± she all but screamed as she let go of her hand and held her mangled fingers up in the air. Seeing the submission, Arla immediately let go, nodded, and turned to walk away. ¡°What the heck just happened?¡± The first girl Murphy asked, her eyes glowing blue with resonating power. Arla just locked gazes with the girl, there was a moment, an unspoken tension. ¡°What happened?¡± Lyria called out, seeing her group of fellow S-Rankers all but ready to square off against Arla. Almost immediately people began screaming, Lyria seeing her injured classmate immediately went over to provide healing. During this time Arla left, wondering exactly what that entire event was about. They would meet again, the number of basic classes required by all first-year students, along with morning exercise classes, all but ensured they would brush paths again. The only real issue was the way the girls had seemingly sidestepped Lyria¡¯s authority. In order for this to work, there needed to be a layer of separation. Arla provides to Lyria, who then gathers the doses. In fact, Arla purposefully chose an aloof and silent posture when dealing with other S-Rankers to help keep that layer of separation in tact. For it was very hard to notice a link between two groups, when there was none. Half the time Arla wondered if she was just being paranoid, but then others made her wonder if she was not being paranoid enough. Her chosen career path, of being an Advanced Mechanical engineer all but screamed that eyes would be on her. Which was why she wanted to keep as much distance as possible between her and the other S-Rankers. Heck, even fellow A-Rankers were unable to approach her. Everyone but Chloe, her roommate who she made sure to get along with particularly well, if for no other reason than to ensure she never had reason to focus on Arla. It wasn¡¯t until she went to what was quickly becoming her least favorite course to go to, Basic Cerusian when she ran into a grouping of S-Rankers. There at the front of the group was Lyria. Seeing as a majority if the S-Rankers for the Freshman class were now here, Arla realized that things were about to get complicated. With the glance out of the corner of her eye, she couldn¡¯t help but see that the muscular girl¡¯s hand was still bandaged. Apparently, Lyria¡¯s B-Ranked Healing was not as exceptional as one might think. As Arla drew closer to the entrance, Lyria moved to impede her progress. This was not a stop, but enough of a hindrance to cause Arla to either stop her movement completely, or attempt to creep around the gaggle of S-Rankers. Seeing the power play, Arla drew to within two paces, stopped and just stared. Shiver. Lyria shivered involuntarily at the glare given by Arla. But after a second, she composed herself and nodded before apparently breaking into why she was here, with them. ¡°It would appear that some of my fellow classmates were a bit too enthusiastic earlier with trying to recruit your services.¡± Lyria began. ¡°Recruit?¡± Arla found herself questioning. ¡°Yes, it would appear that you have a certain knack for Cerusian that many of us would greatly appreciate learning.¡± Lyria suggested. Arla paused, letting the question roll over her. Her mind saw the rationale, these girls were failing, for the professor here truly did not care about rankings, or other status that the Academy offered. Then other than learning to squawk in guttural tones of the Lostarians, or a few of the other even trickier languages to learn from the academy. Hearing the request, it was not unreasonable, as it was clear from classes that Arla was one of the few who truly seemed to get the material. There was of course just one problem, well many, but most stemmed from why she was so good at understanding Cerusian to begin with. Arla paused for a moment, running through the different permutations in her mind. Then finally, before she could give her answer. Chime. The class bell began to ring, indicating that everyone would be late. Arla used that brief moment of hesitation to enter the classroom, going so far as to shove one girl out of her way as she entered the classroom and quickly made her way to her assigned seat. Her moves were so quick and decisive that no one could stop her as she entered. The final chime for class rang out as the gaggle of S-Rankers entered. Seeing the students all entering, the Dr. Juric, the professor for the class just stared angrily at the gaggle of S-Rankers, before asking them in butchered Cerusian. ¡°What if anything can you recall about the AI-Legacy?¡± Hearing his question, that was clearly not in Federation Standard, the students all paused and stared first at the professor, and then to Arla. Seeing how completely lost they were, Arla understood the ask. She understood, and waited, not wanting to enable these S-Rankers anymore than she already felt that she was currently. ¡°Well?¡± Dr. Juric asked angrily, again in Cerusian. Judging by the mood the professor was in, it seemed like it would be a long day, for everyone. Chapter 22 The Delegation Chapter 22 The Delegation ¡°Nothing good happens when you have a random foreign delegation appear. Nothing truly gets accomplished then. Their presence is all PR to hide the fact that the deals have already been agreed to in the back, or soon will be accomplished.¡± -Marcon on Foreign Delegates Pulsing. All night there was a strange pulsing of energy coursing through her body, warning her to awaken. Only after a moment of sitting and mentally scanning her environment for the sudden source of disturbance did she find the origination point. Finally, she realized that the reason she felt the pulse at all was that it was something touching her. In fact, looking around, she could see a faint blue hue of light forming from just under her shirt. Only a second later did she realize that the source of the light was the seemingly dormant orb. An orb that belonged to her father. Then to her confusion, she saw that the star map was moving. Why it was moving, or better still how it was moving remained a mystery. Honestly, Arla had never given too much thought to the fact that the final resting place for her apparent AI Legacy could in fact move. This ultimately generated more questions than answers. Some would assume that an AI Legacy, particularly one with a linked star map would be buried. But for the location to move, it required a lot of components. First, the fact that the AI Legacy could move at all implied that it had either been found by someone else, or was possibly part of a vessel that was stranded on a planet and now began to move? There were so many factors as to why the AI Legacy could move, that they were almost impossible to incapsulate them all at this time. The second thing that this clear movement and warning of movement indicated, was that the AI Legacy in question was somehow able to communicate with this orb. Meaning, this was not a stationary map, but an interactive location finder, one with a relay system. It was the latter part that intrigued Arla the most. The idea that if this device could communicate with the AI Legacy, at least enough to relay galactic locational data, then what else could be transmitted? Theoretically, if she could get the AI Legacy to consent, she could get the AI Legacy to transmit itself to her in packets of data no larger than a moving galactic-locational burst. This might be possible, but would likely require one AI Legacy to commit the equivalent of virtual suicide once a fully functioning clone was assembled. That or risk two competing AI Legacies, both vying for life. No, the best course of action would be to try to understand why the Legacy would be moved now of all times. However, after thinking about the map and the constant movement of heavenly bodies, it should have been apparent that tracking the movement of the AI Legacy was possible. Without the ability to track a Legacy, how could one predict the exact location of the device? Unless set to a set of constantly running star chart modules, as those were prone to enhanced error rates over time. Logically, if Arla was to do the same, she would not go with the star chart modules, or if she would, then she would have a wake-up beacon protocol in place to allow for momentary updates, once the location beacon came back online. Working the problem backwards helped Arla get to the likely conclusion. What she had seen originally, well she and Dr. Lemishov had seen originally was the known location of where the AI Legacy should have been. Now though, with her awakening her orb, the message likely went out to the location, found nothing. Then sent out follow up beacons, only to now find that the AI Legacy had in fact moved. Just knowing that her father, her biological father, would not have made the rookie mistake of relying on star chart modules, but built in a tracking beacon of some kind made her feel more connected to her father in ways she never knew. It felt oddly assuring that her father was not at least a complete moron. Also, the fact that the AI Legacy beaconed back seemed to imply that it was not controlled or operated by the owner, as it still reached out for its owner. At least, that is what Arla assumed. There was more data, for the pulse that she just received showed that the vehicle transporting the orb had travelled over 74 quintillion miles since the last update 24 hours ago. Further implying that the data had been on an assumed automatic update, until beacons were sent.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. This put the Legacy far closer, in the nearby Gammes Cluster. Realizing how close she was, Arla almost felt like screaming. It was so close, with a Legacy, she might not be need to go through her full time in the military. For the Legacy could help prove both her lineage, and any wealth that was accrued would obviously be taxed. You can¡¯t tax someone that is not a citizen, meaning if the government wanted their thirty percent cut of her inheritance, then she would need to be made legal. This is exactly what Dr. Juric was harping on about in Cerusian during his lecture. Suddenly the idea of going to Dr. Juric¡¯s class didn¡¯t seem as annoying. With her second avenue to citizenry now open, a second method for declaring her legitimacy, Arla felt some of the tension she had been dealing with leave her. This wasn¡¯t her one and only chance to make it. If this didn¡¯t work out, then she could always put together a ship, track down the AI Legacy and claim her birthright that way. Honestly, this was the best news she had in a while. Nothing was handed to her, she would still have to work for her citizenry, regardless of which way she went, but she had options. Options that were obtainable, so long as she pushed herself. Feeling the comfort of the gentle energy being released by her orb, Arla clasped it in her hand, darkening the room around her. With the room now darkened, and her mind able to rest easier, she found sleep take her quickly. *** ¡°Just a reminder, there is an all-hands assembly this morning. That means go shower, change, eat, and be prepared to hear from the commandant of this very Academy that is housing you, training you, and making you into a respectable person.¡± The Instructor called out, as the final marker of their morning workout. That was how Arla¡¯s morning began, or at least the start of her morning began. While the message was ominous, it quickly turned around by her notifications going wild. Ding. Ding. A-ding, ding, ding. Sometime during her morning, but after her morning workout, her payments slowly began to make their way through to her. Seeing the messages for Health Care payments being received, filtered, and used to buy new and fake supplies made Arla feel? Well, she didn¡¯t know how she felt. There was clearly a marked improvement in the way the others treated her, as they were no longer as seemingly openly hostile towards her or other classmates. That said, it was clear that there was clearly an addiction and high related component to the S-Ranker¡¯s emotional states. The males were also cranky, but not as visibly cranky, at least not to Arla. Though she did notice that they seemed to have less inhibitions as time went on, staring and ogling at their fellow soldiers, as they ran past. Nothing overtly hostile, but definitely unwanted. Still, Arla could not complain. The payments cleared, nothing overtly was happening, and life was moving on. As far as Arla was concerned there were no true concerns, at least not yet. This was also a good reminder for her to start going and creating more of the orbs for the next supply run. So many things to do. These were the thoughts that Arla had, as she made her way towards the assembly point. While Wednesdays were often the day for such announcements, this one seemed off. It was hard to tell why, at first. There were a few key details that seemed to stand out. The way all the officers were wearing their dress uniforms, their Class-As. The way the carpet and lighting seemed to have finally been dusted. That or maybe these were the new ones that were finally being taken out of the packaging for the first time, a fact that was more likely as there was clearly a fold that came from using the rugs the first time. Those were just the obvious markings, there were other more subtle indications that something big was happening. The way the officers gave everyone side long glances, the way they nervously shifted about in their postures, all showed the tell-tale signs of nerves. Everything all pointed to one of two things, in her mind Arla assumed it was a formal military inspection. Likely, an inspection conducted either by a Military bigwig, or by a representative of the military bigwig, who would no doubt have to be accompanied by a civilian counterpart who gave a line-item inspection. The first meeting was for the military, to make sure we were meeting true military standards. The second one would mean we were being effectively audited, to ensure taxpayer credits were being spent appropriately. The first option was bad, but the second option was worse. With the first option, it was clear that we would be forced to comply with regulations, focus on fitness and training efforts. With the latter, it could be anything from wanting to hear our morals, how loyal we were to the federation, etcetera. They were both headaches, but each a unique and different kind of headache. The kind that would likely impact the way the rest of this week played out. For the moment, Arla decided to hold off on production of her enhancement pills. For the time being, she knew that security would be high, and that restocking would be a pain with so many eyes now watching for any signs of disturbance. No, best to wait, and do it later when no one can find out. These were the thoughts flowing through Arla¡¯s mind, until the commandant spoke. ¡°Greetings cadets. We wanted to thank you all for attending today, as we know you will all have busy class schedules designed to help keep your minds active and engaged, so you can serve the Federation. Not just as soldiers, but as fully functioning and capable people. People who will help produce change in the future.¡± Hearing the words, Arla mentally noted that this would be the civilian inspection. Then looking to the Commandant¡¯s right, her left, she saw two figures. One a Lt Admiral standing next to a Civilian. Judging by the rank of the officer sent as an escort, it was clear that this civilian was very important. From this distance it was impossible for Arla to make out any true features of the woman, other than she had chestnut colored hair, and either fake or baked bronze tannish skin that came from a planetary system with poor melanin protection. Even from this distance, it was clear the girl wore an excessive amount of makeup, the kind that won¡¯t run or smear despite perspiration levels. There were even signs of bangs, though Arla just hoped she was mistaken in that assessment. ¡°In the coming weeks, we will have some very important guests coming. So as a matter of course, we will have Ms. Adamma Karens here walk you through what to expect. Also, know that for the next two weeks, everyone will be going through Cerusian awareness and sensitivity training courses. For those of you already in the Cerusian track for your chosen language, then know you will likely see a lot more people in the coming weeks,¡± The Commandant concluded as he gestured for the civilian to take center stage. ¡°Hello, thank you Commander, I am Ms. Adamma Karens,¡± she said with a forced giggle and thick accent. The type of accent that was meant to sound bubbly and caring, but often came across as anything but, when you truly matched their words to their mannerisms. ¡°I just wanted to say that it is just a pleasure to be here today, to tell you all about the new Cerusian peace delegation that will be coming.¡± She paused at that point, giving time for her words to sink in. ¡°That¡¯s right, the Cerusians have once again opened up lines of communication with us, and will be sending a platoon of their own troops and leaders here to learn from us,¡± she began, her words laced with poisoned honey as she spun this as sweetly as possible. Still despite hearing her words, Arla could only imagine why the sudden shift. Why would they suddenly change their perspectives, now? ¡°It is also clear that they are looking at taking a handful of our best and brightest,¡± she paused and then pointed to the entire audience, ¡°which is you all of course, along with members from the other Academies. Every one of the great Academies will have at least one or more representative chosen to truly learn from our Cerusian counterparts. We have even brokered the idea that some of you might be able to be taught how to use Cerusian Magic, though I¡¯m pretty sure that is not the correct way to explain their powers.¡± The cultural liaison said. The more she spoke, the more it was clear to Arla why the Cerusians had avoided humanity, especially if this was the person sent by the Federation to help raise awareness. That said, it was clear that the so-called students who would be sent here to learn would be nothing more than spies. Badump, badump, badump. But with the delegation coming, and new signs that her AI Legacy were on the move, Arla couldn¡¯t help but wonder if there was some form of connection between the two. And like that, what had been a momentarily stable environment was suddenly shaken on its head, as for the next two to three months, everything would be scrutinized heavily. Also, it was clear that Arla would likely need to do something about her supplies to the other S-Rankers, lest they all get outed at the same time. This was going to be interesting, Arla thought to herself. She also wondered, why they would suddenly come now? What had they learned to change their minds about integrating with humanity? ¡°With that, there are a few more housekeeping notes that we would like to address, namely¡­¡± Chapter 23 The Trap Chapter 23 The Trap ¡°The easiest way to avoid suspicion, play dumb. Most people cannot let others trample on their intelligence, use that. When you know people are phishing about information about you, the best way to avoid suspicion, lay low and play dumb.¡± ¨C Teaching of Marcon A strange air filled the campus. It was the innate air of arcane power. Hard to notice at first, but palpable. Like a looming threat you knew would come, but not when it arrived. To others, the air was little more than a slight winter¡¯s breath, breathing down their spines. For Arla, the wind was far more memorable, being as she knew the sensations of this to be a more subdued form of the energy she felt as a child, during her testing. That or, maybe her tolerance for such annoyances had grown. ¡°Brr,¡± Chloe, Arla¡¯s roommate, began as she even grabbed at her arms in a huddling fashion. For her part Arla just nodded, knowing that the cold was a perception and not a reality thing. ¡°What?¡± Chloe asked, but then stared at Arla who seemed to be unaffected by the strange sensations. ¡°It is sixty-five degrees, you are fine,¡± Arla responded, trying to get her words to help break the hold that the Cerusian magic seemed to have over her roommate. Hearing that, Chloe turned her head to the wall and saw that it was indeed sixty-five degrees in the shared dorm room. Seeing the thermometer, Chloe blinked her eyes as if trying to dismiss the clearly erroneous reading. Only to find that it was still the same reading as before. Realizing that she was not hallucinating, Chloe took a deep breath and all but shattered the hold that the odd magic seemed to have over her. ¡°There, now let¡¯s go to class,¡± Arla exclaimed. For a moment Chloe paused as she stared at her roommate. ¡°Wait, you want to go together?¡± She asked incredulously. ¡°Yes, unless you had other plans?¡± Arla responded, while still providing the girl an out. ¡°What? Oh no, let¡¯s go,¡± Chloe responded a smile beaming on her face. ¡°It¡¯s just, you know, you always seem to not want to spend time together.¡± At that Arla just nodded, ¡°I have had my priorities misaligned, thank you for putting up with me.¡± These were not platitudes; Arla was originally thrown off by the sincerity and seemingly boundless energy of her roommate. Marcon always made Arla avoid such people in the past. They were the kind of people that would give you freely what they had. When Arla asked why not take what they give, Marcon shook his head and responded. ¡°There are so few genuinely nice people in the universe. There will of course be people who break or ruin them forever. Do not be the person who breaks such a genuinely good person, lest you be saddled with bearing their karmic debt.¡± There was obviously more to that comment. It was clear that for whatever reason Marcon had felt that he himself had broken such a genuinely nice person and had to bear the weight of such an action. Arla never pressed, and Marcon never provided anything more. Only giving the sound advice that ¡°once you find someone truly special like that, enjoy them for the nova that they are, for one day they will burn out and when they do, the universe will feel suddenly darker.¡± For her part, Arla had been more than accommodating to avoid Chloe entirely, not wanting such a karmic debt to befall herself. That all changed, once she first learned that the Cerusians would be coming. Then the odd energy, and finally the way that Chloe reacted to the energy, all but proving that she was at least gifted. That or maybe she had partial Cerusian heritage. Regardless of why she reacted to the odd energy, the fact that she reacted at all proved to Arla that their joining might not have been as coincidental as previously thought. Also, it was clear that whatever net the Cerusians were casting for whatever prize they were currently seeking was both wide and broad. The idea of Chloe inadvertently being swept up into this net was not beyond comprehension. Arla couldn¡¯t help but glance around, her eyes scanning the area and looking for anything that seemed out of place. Most curious was the way the Geminoid statues all seemed to have a more respectable and rigid appearance. There was even a dark onyx coating on them. It took Arla a second to realize that the onyx coating was a defensive layer. Something the geminoids did to protect themselves from adverse effects of the environment around them. It severely limited their mobility, but all but made them immune to outside effects. Even their eyes were covered, signifying that they were not even capable of spying at the moment. Seeing them like this, Arla realized that this area was now a prime spot to stash future deliveries, provided the geminoids maintained this insistence on hiding. I wonder if this is an innate fear response brought about by the Cerusians? Arla contemplated to herself as she continued to the lecture hall. The fact that the Geminoids would be able to notice the odd magical resonance was not odd. What was odd however was the way that That was the first warning. Of course, there were other oddities too. The increase of guards. Not that the number of guards on campus had necessarily increased, but the fact that these guards were suddenly more vigilant. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Then the purpose for all the increased security became clear. Cerusians. An entire platoon¡¯s worth, seemingly made up of students of varying ages and abilities. They were of course easy to spot, as many other students would first notice them, pause and then seem to stop a few dozen paces away. The group stood in formation talking in their sacred tongue. Being the crisp day, the words seemed to have a certain weight and volume to them as they headed out and hit Arla¡¯s ears. It took a moment for her mind to engage and begin breaking down the words. But then her mind was able to accurately parse the words and phrases as if she had a chance to practice continually. ¡°¡­Do not forget, that while we are here for a specific purpose, we are still representing the Matriarch. Every action you take, every move and gesture made will be recorded, analyzed and dissected. Do not embarrass yourself, and most importantly do not embarrass her holiness,¡± the leader began. It took a moment, but after seeing the platoon versus the leader, it was clear that the leader was older than the others. There were subtle differences, but it was clear that the leader was easily double if not more than the platoon she was leading. ¡°Wow, those are all students. To be so disciplined while still being a cadet, that is impressive,¡± Chloe whispered as they approached. Chloe was clearly speaking the standard dialect of the Federation and likely had no clue what the others were saying. Hearing the question, Arla wanted to correct her, to point out how the platoon leader was twice as old as the others but instead chose to reply with just a nod. This would be the first and likely easiest trap to fall into. That and the fact that for now, she could likely get close to the others and listen in for what this purpose was. Her intent at the time was to find out their purpose, display the purpose to them, and hope that they left immediately afterwards. From what she could tell, all Cerusians were inherently selfish, this was not a Marcon teaching. Rather this was what she learned from her own studies. Cerusians were very mission oriented, finding an objective, presenting resources to that objective, and then once that objective was obtained, they would subsequently leave. This was where Arla came up with her own creed: Never become a Ceruisan objective. Having met Chloe, she now extended the same creed to apply to her. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s handsome,¡± Chloe giggled coquettishly, as she indicated the platoon leader. Seeing the leader, Arla looked and realized that Chloe apparently had no clue about Ceruisian anatomy, as that was clearly a female. Again, not something that Arla wanted to point out, but something that would likely get pointed out in the future. ¡°Come on, aren¡¯t you in this hall?¡± Arla pressed, clearly changing the subject. ¡°Yes,¡± she began, and momentarily paused as she entered the area of influence being created and permeated by the Cerusians. ¡°But wait...¡± Just being this close made it so she could feel the otherworldly aspect of them. An otherworldly aspect that Arla expressly ignored. However, it was clear that Chloe was unable to overcome her initial hesitation. Likely the same form of hesitation that stopped everyone from encroaching on their impromptu meeting area. Everyone but Arla, who walked casually through the field, somehow seeming to break whatever air of compulsion kept everyone at bay. Then as she entered, Chloe quickly followed, ¡°wait!¡± She exclaimed as she too charged forward. After that, it was a matter of seconds before everyone else that had seemingly stopped their advancement to allow the odd space elves their own space, soon realized that they too had classes to go to. Which then led to a seeming stampeded that all but forced the platoon to break up and disperse, but not before the platoon leader took one long look at the back of Arla¡¯s head. Not even registering the threat, Arla continued forward, never looking back and never granting the elf the satisfaction of knowing who was immune to their imposing natures. That was on her way into the building. Being that these were now mixed classes, focused on increasing awareness of Cerusian culture, Chloe found her way to the same exact auditorium that Arla always went to. But rather than having Dr. Juric on hand to give his normal broken teachings of Cerusian, or at least what Arla considered to be broken Cerusian, this time the class would be conducted by an elder Cerusian. This was not the same Cerusian that was the platoon leader from outside, but close. Quite possibly in the same family? At least that is what Arla suspected, given the way the two had very similar features. That is the shape and contour of the eyes, the bridging of the nose, even the tense expressions on the jawlines all spoke to having similar characteristics. Then again, it had been years since Marcon made her stare at and observe the characteristics of Cerusians. But she could still make out the differences. The subtle notes of aging, and most importantly what the signs of royalty were. This person was a noble of some kind, likely needed to keep the others in line below her. But it was also her posture, her mannerisms, and most importantly her undeniable Cerusian magics that set her apart as someone powerful. Looking at her, it was clear that she was a practitioner of Wind and Water elements, but there was more as combination elements seemed to have been woven into the very fabric of her clothing. These safety features, or more likely attack characteristics were clearly lacking in the uniforms worn by the others. From all this, Arla was making a mental note of who everyone was. This teacher and likely the platoon leader were the only true people of authority that Arla had noticed. Meanwhile, the other students, some of whom were trying to blend into the various classrooms were likely of lower birth and status. At least, these were the ideas that Arla speculated. For she doubted that true nobility, even watered down nobility would stoop so low as to apply for spying missions on a Federation campus, despite the intended objective. It was also clear that based on the idea that this was happening to all of the military academies of the universe that theirs was not an isolated incident. That means that even more resources would be needed for this objective. Fortunately, since this was the Cerusian course, that is the one being offered to teach others about the Cerusian customs and language, the new Cerusian students were blessedly not present. This meant that from Arla¡¯s perspective, all she had to do was keep her head down and avoid drawing the attention of this lone instructor. With a stern glance the Cerusian instructor strode in, a note of power and authority in her movements. While she seemed to exude an aura of suppression around her, one that many instinctively followed, there were those who seemed to be out of the radius of the aura¡¯s effects. Or completely unaware of the noted decorum for Cerusian instructors. This was a cultural thing, as many of the students that continued to talk were asking banal things like, ¡°how many more weeks of these courses are left?¡± ¡°When can we get back to our chosen languages?¡± ¡°Why are my projects still due, when I am not going to be in classes for the next month,¡± and so on. Seeing the continued conversations, and feeling slighted instructor paused, stared, gathered power and then with a refined note of power she executed. Sparking shock! A wave of electricity rolled out, bypassing the nearby row of cowed students and seeming to launch at and envelope the gaggle that had up until this point been protected by distance from the instructor. The attack was masterful, both in execution, targeting only the gaggle of speaking students and those around them. That is, the students that could have told the speaking students to hush up. Even the amount of force used was minor, just enough for a sudden jolt of pain, little more than a static jolt of electricity, but enough to get everyone to perk up at the display. With her attack executed, the crone waited, all but relishing the chance to execute another surge of power. Yet, her initial attack had done its job, as soon everyone became quiet and an odd hush of a suddenly quiet amphitheater, where only the breaths of hundreds of people could be heard and felt rang out in echoing silence. Pleased with the sudden response, the crone nodded and proceeded to make her way up to the podium. Once there, she began to speak, as she slowly turned to make eye contact with each and every student. As her eyes scanned the room, she paused just long enough to seemingly grab everyone¡¯s facial features, before moving on. ¡°Greetings, I have asked to take on the task of affording you the privilege of learning from and hearing the Divine Language from a native speaker. Know that I am not here for myself, or out of any sense of duty, but for the fact that my Matriarch herself asked for this,¡± the instructor began to speak, her eyes never stopping their slow and seeming mechanical movement around the room. Then with a start, Arla realized that this was likely exactly what she was doing, as there was a hint of blue energy for memory and vision enhancement that seemed to flow around the woman as she scanned each and every student in attendance. She was on the row below, when it happened. Her gaze suddenly jumped from the student below Arla, straight up to her. Gasp. There was a moment a connection, as the two seemed to stare at each other for what felt like an eternity, but was really just seconds. The pause went on so long that for a moment the instructor seemed to have forgotten her place in her obviously prepared speech before shaking her head, and once again beginning her scan of the row below her. Even as her eyes moved on, Arla was almost certain that she could now feel the intense gaze of the instructor peering at her from the corner of her eye, before going up a row and once again making her way down. Until their eyes met once more. This time there was still a pause, but it was shorter, more of a sharp intake of breath when exiting the warm confines of the dorms and being exposed to the cold bitter winds of winter. Then once she regained her breath, she continued on, never losing a beat in her speech. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to learn our tongue, all I expect is for you to be quiet when in class and only speak when spoken to¡­¡± She continued. On the speech went, each word more inflammatory than the last. It was clear that she did not want to be here, that she thought this class was beneath her. ¡°Any questions?¡± She asked. Arla was about to shake her head no, but then realized everyone was just staring at her with confused looks on their faces. Pausing to understand the confusion, why no one was speaking or responding to her obvious end to her monologue. A diatribe of vitriol towards her being forced to stand here and teach people that would die off in wars in less than a few years. That pause, that moment needed for Arla to sit back and think was the only thing that kept Arla from giving away her secret. Though she might have already been too late, had the stares been anything to go by. ¡°Now then, let me state my mission directive in the common tongue so that you can hopefully learn through our immersion method. I am Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian, and it is my honor and privilege to be here and help you learn about our wonderful culture and language¡­¡± As she spoke, it took every effort Arla had to reign in her facial expressions and act as if she was hearing her speak for the first time. Also, it was clear that this was but one of many tests that were likely to follow. Chapter 24 The Interrogation Chapter 24 The Interrogation ¡°When the authorities are on to you, closing a net. The easiest way to get out for a major crime, is to be pulled in for a minor crime. They will continue their investigation, never knowing that you are right there the entire time.¡± -Marcon on why he started that bar fight. ¡°What an unusually dark shade of black your hair is,¡± The matron Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian commented. Her words piercing through Arla as she walked by, trying to leave a class where she spoke little, participated minimally, and gave as few indications of her knowledge of the language as possible. Hearing those words caused an instant realization of fear to rise in her, as it was clear that the black used in her modified way was meant to cover her now bright blue hair. Hair that would not be able to absorb typical hair dyes. Instead, she had to use a coating mixture that along with other common ingredients would be able to be woven in and over her strands daily to form a perfect mixture. The only detriment to her process was that if she ever got a haircut, her stalks of hair would glow, just at the tips. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. Which was why Arla always cut her own hair, learning to stylize her hair from an early age. Yet, there were markings and distinctions one could notice. Coating in such a way used to leave universal bumps and previously made it so one side would be thicker in volume. Whereas recently, that is since her marking of a second system, he has had to dye all of her hair in a similar manner. Which meant the volume appeared the same, but now there were inconsistencies with her approach to hair care. Chole, her roommate, had asked about her odd grooming habits once. But then seemed to understand that Arla was poor. ¡°If you¡¯d like, I could pay for a haircut,¡± she offered. That comment hit a bit harder than she had originally expected, as she seemed to genuinely want to help out as best she could. It was also clear from Arla¡¯s barebones¡¯ management to life that she was poor. Or at the very least, she was used to not having money and to being as self-sufficient as possible. Seeing her standard of living, rather than scoffing, or rebuking her as most would, as most of this campus had, Chloe offered to help. No obligations or ulterior motives, at least none that Arla could see. Instead, Chole just wanted to help out someone less fortunate. To Arla that meant a lot, which played heavily into Arla wanting to ensure that Chole was not pulled into whatever schemes the Cerusians were currently plotting. It was clear from this own hag¡¯s words that she did not want to be here. Then remembering her own faux pas from earlier, Arla realized that this too might be a test. For the diplomat once again spoke in the Cerusian language. Further analysis showed that the inflections and tones used were of a dignified cadence. Meaning that Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian was speaking to someone of great respect. At least, that is what her words seemed to say, while her body posture was the same as she had used to tell everyone else, ¡°goodbye and safe travels.¡± Realizing the trap for what it was, Arla responded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± Arla spoke in what was clearly broken Cerusian. In this case, she was acting, using the art of subterfuge to mask her true intentions. It was easy to butcher a language, longer and more drawn-out pauses. Pauses that she had spent over a month hearing from her own human instructor, Dr. Juric. Hearing him butcher the language day in and out was a clear example to follow in this case. ¡°Nothing, I was just wishing you to have a great day, and safe travels,¡± Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian responded smoothly in the common tongue. Hearing that, Arla paused and seemed to look up to the right, as if recalling the exact wording used by the instructor. Then as a means to mess with her, decided to parrot back her exact wording to her. ¡°What an unusually dark shade of black your cat is,¡± Arla repeated, remembering and butchering the phrasing. Purposefully switching out cat for hair, as they were both similar and could easily be replaced due to the longer stress on certain syllables. Chuckle. Hearing her speak, the other native Cerusians who had stayed behind to speak to the professor began to laugh. This was what Arla had intended, diversion away from her. The Cerusians too had legends about black cats causing disaster, and other ill tidings. Thus focusing on the cat and butchering the words enough, it caused many to mistakenly lower their guard around her. With their mocking reaction present, Arla instantly tensed up and with a shocked timid reaction looked at them, then back to the professor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did I say it wrong?¡± Arla asked, embarrassment clear in her tone and posture. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. With a forced placating smile, one that would likely send the males into a full melt down the space elf just smiled reassuringly. ¡°No, my child, you are fine. But do you have an Eidetic Memory?¡± The temporary professor asked. ¡°Yes, I used it to memorize many of your phrases from earlier today,¡± Arla began, then twisting the knife she began speaking. ¡°What was the one about it being an honor and privilege to be here and help you learn about our wonderful culture and language?¡± Arla began, only pausing for a moment, letting the incident sink in. The moment when the professor seemed to glance at her constantly during her speech, only afterwards did Arla realize she was likely the only one in the room who could understand what was being said. Once again, Arla looked up and to the right, trying to remember the exact wording that the professor had used. ¡°Know that I am not here for myself, or out of any sense of duty, but for the fact that my witch of a Matriarch asked for this,¡± Arla stuttered out, again purposefully butchering the annunciation of the language and messing up the words just enough to make it seem like the doctor had badmouthed her own matriarch in front of a classroom of heathens, knowing that the words would never get back to her Matriarch. Silence. The students who had been laughing at the cat comment earlier were not laughing, as they all turned to look at the professor. It was clear that the words spoken were not ones that would be spoken by a normal student, particularly not one who had not been exposed to Cerusian. Also, the fact that this statement, even if factually false got back to the Matriarch herself or higher delegates, then it might reflect poorly. Almost as if saying they didn¡¯t care for this mission and were just here to placate an old boss unworthy of listening to. Even the professor looked stunned at the near perfect recitation of her comments back to her. For a moment the professor stood there in slack jawed amazement, before her mind began conducting damage control. ¡°Oh, my dear, you do have an amazing memory, but I think part of the issue is your human tongue and vocal cords that have not been developed enough to properly speak and hear the sounds that are uttered.¡± Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian began, her words and tone in full damage control as she made quick glances out of the side of her face to the students. Many of the students who were in the classroom with Arla just stared in near amazement at her, while the others just looked at the professor like she was spouting blasphemy. ¡°Can you truly speak back our language after just hearing it once?¡± One of the students asked, her words went to Cerusian and Arla wanted to respond, but she was still playing her role. ¡°Wow, that is so beautiful,¡± Arla responded in common, then tried to parrot it back, ¡°can you truly spray back our language after hearing things?¡± The words and tones weren¡¯t easy for a nonpracticing humanoid to reproduce. Yet, Arla kept up the same fa?ade, stressing the words she could, while hyperstressing words or syllables that were not easy enough to hear or repeat in common. There were tones and inflections, words and syllables of power, each of which Arla pretended to miss and not be able to perceive at all. The end result meant that Arla would stand out, but for the exact wrong reasons. Rather than being some gifted prodigy, she would stand out as a person with eidetic memory who could parrot back their conversations and likely misquote them, as the comment about the esteemed matriarch hinted. Using the logic of Marcon, the idea was to not fly under the radar, but to be so apparent that the Cerusians would want to steer clear of her and by extension anyone who was within her orbit while she out and about. It was a lot harder to have clandestine meetings in the open, when there was someone who could inadvertently repeat your words and phrases nearly perfectly. At least, this was Arla¡¯s plan while following this crazy plan. ¡°Oh, with your adaptive mind, we should put you in our advanced class,¡± Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian stated, her words seeming to try to sound far too sweet. Just an odd resonance of the words, the same way one would try to sound nice to a child who was near a ledge and could be startled off, if spoken to in any way other than inviting. Being as this was not their native language, the professor likely had no understanding of just how disconcerting her words sounded. Which was good, as it let Arla feel a bit more of the deeper emotions being held at bay by the professor. ¡°That sounds amazing!¡± Arla began, fully embracing the act, figuring that the professor would back down. Or likely use it as a way to scan her once more, and dismiss her. It was a cat and mouse game, one that Arla was ready to win. ¡°This is wonderful, Yuyula, will you work with her to help her get ready for our program?¡± The professor asked, turning to the girl who butted into their conversation. For a moment, the Cerusian looked indignant at the comment, as if talking to a human was beneath her, but one look from the professor and a quick bow of her head she regained her composure and turned responded overly cheerfully. ¡°It would be my pleasure,¡± Yuyula responded, her voice also dripping with poisoned honey. ¡°Good, now if you will excuse me, I need to get ready for my next lecture,¡± the professor replied as she gestured for the other Cerusians to come with her, as she walked away. Clearly leaving the one lecture hall for languages, not that the professor likely cared that she was just trying to leave. With that Yuyula and Arla both stared at the procession that quickly left. As they left, so too did a small undertow of students and cadre. Everyone seemed was well enamored by the events that were unfolding and being able to say that they had seen and interacted with a Cerusian. From what Arla had gathered, a few of the students had bets going as to who could seduce any member of the Ceruisan delegation. Each class year taking ownership of their noted chance of seducing a Cerusian, winning bragging rights not only for themselves, but for their entire class as well. At least, this is what Arla had gathered from reading messages over the shoulder of other people throughout classes. While many students had gotten adept at hiding their personal message screens from the professors, few had developed countermeasures to prevent people with exceptional eyesight from reading over their shoulders. This along with countless hours of training made it so such actions were second nature, and she was mostly able to avoid many of the different conversations, while still being able to keep her pulse on the activities of the campus. Before Arla was going to go too far, she felt a presence off to her back left. Glancing back she saw Chloe, the very girl that Arla wanted to protect from unwanted scrutiny. ¡°Yes, when would you¡­¡± Yuyula began, her voice dripping with condescension. Fortunately, Arla already had a backup plan as she looked back and saw Chloe who had come close, no doubt to hear what the Cerusian who stayed behind had to say to her roommate. Yes, Chloe was the primary source of Arla¡¯s awareness of there being a competition with the Cerusians. So it only made sense that Chloe would remain nearby to hear what the Cerusian delegate had to say to her roommate. Never leaving a golden chance encounter to waste, Arla killed two potential issues with one maneuver. ¡°Oh, right, I am so sorry Chloe, but we do have that thing to attend to,¡± Arla began, and then with a forced calm went over and swiftly grabbed Chloe¡¯s arm in her own, looping her arm and proceeding to walk away with her. The move was so quick and abrupt that Chloe had almost no time to react and began walking forward. Then as expected, once they got to within a pace of Yuyula, Arla stopped moving, which Chloe had not anticipated and ended up stumbling and pulling Arla forward. ¡°Oh right, we need to go, so sorry! See you next time!¡± Arla exclaimed as she began walking once more and went into a lock step motion with Chloe. Yuyula not quite aware of what just happened, nor how to handle such measures just watched on in shock. Then by the time she realized her target was away, she tried to move forward, only to then lose the two in a gaggle of cadets. The wall of onlookers that Arla and Chloe wandered into and through only managed to help the unaware Cerusian lose track of the two seemingly average cadets. Only once they were a few dozen paces away did Arla let go of Chloe¡¯s arm long enough for her to stare in disbelief. Though Arla was not done walking as she continued her near sprint-like pace, despite here still walking. ¡°Hey, wait up,¡± Chloe demanded, only to then sprint a few steps to finally catch up to the oddly rhythmical walking pattern used by Arla. Seeing that Arla was not slowing down, nor going to broach the subject, Chloe brought it up herself. ¡°Do you mind explaining exactly what happened back there?¡± Chapter 25 Distracted Business Dealings Chapter 25 Distracted Business Dealings ¡°The moment you stop being vigilant of your surroundings, is the moment you leave your life up to fate. And I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve noticed, but fate is not that gracious to us.¡± ¨CTeaching of Marcon Buzzing. It started off slowly. A dull thrumming sensation from within her mind. Something intangible that spoke of something being off, ever so slightly in the world. A disturbance of the natural serenity of the world. For a moment, Arla thought that what she might be feeling was directly in relationship to Chloe, which was why she did answer most of her questions to a satisfactory level. While she had left out a few minor details, like her being of Cerusian decent and a few other key factors about her life prior to her admittance here, she did answer questions about Cerusians themselves. It was also noted that she would help the girl, when it came to time for studying more about Cerusian culture. However, that didn¡¯t solve the issue, the sense of unease that Arla was continuing to feel. Oddly enough, it had a geolocation component to it as well. Arla found that by moving to certain locations she would feel more tension, and then less when she moved away. It would have made sense if this was one stationary point, but there were multiple such areas that caused unease within her. With the first spot, being near the center of the Academy there were a lot of variables about what could be generating the mental feedback that Arla had been feeling. Then as time went on, and more spots were observed, Arla noticed a pattern. Relics. For whatever reason, Arla always found or had her eyes drawn to Cerusian relics that were often left unattended at different areas of the campus. Once she noticed the first relic, she began noticing them everywhere. Most were simple wall mounted objects; others were semi-statues components impaled into the ground. While others were metallic objects added to and worn by higher ranking Cerusian delegates. What were these objects? Why did they seem to cause an odd buzzing sensation in Arla¡¯s skull that made it feel like her teeth were hollow, as a dull resonating ache seemed to fill her. Worse, she was the only one who seemed to suffer from such an affliction, as everyone else moved around seemingly oblivious to these distractions. While her mind told her to avoid the distractions, to keep her head down and avoid everything. Her curiosity got the better of her. Why was she being afflicted? Was this some type of Cerusian attack? If it was an attack designed and conducted by Cerusians against Cerusians, then why were the other Cerusians not being affected? Did they have some form of protection against this odd dull energy? ¡°Hey there,¡± the high-pitched voice of someone overly happy to see someone rang out. It was the overly energetic voice of someone who was used to getting their way, someone born to power, worse Arla knew firsthand that this voice did not belong to someone who could be avoided. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Lyria coming towards her. Her big blazing ¡®S¡¯ shining brightly in the afternoon light. As she moved, many people instinctively moved out of the way, the way minnows and other smaller fish might move away from a predator that already had their eyes set on their next meal. ¡°Hello, Cadet Hylinch, how can I assist you?¡± Arla greeted and bowed to the higher-ranking student. Whatever her true feelings were of having to bow to Lyria, only proper decorum and respect for the Academy¡¯s ranking system were observed in her actions. Hearing her controlled tone, Lyria paused and then offered a cracked smile. Seeing the forced smile, the slight waves of tension, and the inadvertent twitches that happened with her left hand, Arla concluded that Lyria was nervous. Nervous or¡­ It took a second, but Arla then realized what the issue might be, withdrawal? It couldn¡¯t be, not yet. The last dose had just been applied. Then Arla realized that the girls were probably in far worse condition than she had thought. Their bodies were unable to keep up with the strain of pushing so much energy through their underdeveloped bodies that it was causing twice as much energy as necessary to be used. At least, that is what conclusion Arla came to. ¡°Can we talk?¡± Lyria asked, her eyes performing a quick glance around, focusing on the network of students who had gathered to watch their little display. Seeing the gesture and giving her own quick glance, Arla confirmed that this place was not conducive to having a private conversation. Especially as two Geminoids were positioned nearby. While their faces were clearly held in stoic poses, Arla had no doubt that the crafty silicon-based life forms would be able to experience, record, and repeat all forms of information communicated around them. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Sure,¡± Arla replied, then proceeded to follow Lyria who gestured for Arla to follow. Arla did just that, happy to feel a slight form of relief take over, with each step away from the centralized node of odd energies that were accosting her senses. There was more to these odd energies, something that Arla vowed to understand. If only to figure out how she could avoid feeling uneasy by going to different parts of the campus. As she walked with Lyria, she found that the Cerusians were now broken up into much smaller groups. While trying not to be obvious, her reflexes counted people, groups moving, energy sources nearby, everything and anything was now under her scrutiny. This was a game that Marcon would make her play, while walking around, keep track of people, groups, and energy signatures around her. It was tough, particularly as Marcon would force her to keep her eyes forward, only allowing her to glance over in Marcon¡¯s direction every few words or phrases. Then while walking, she was to keep track of the people following, without breaking her conversation. That was why, when Lyria began trying to speak somewhat cryptically, Arla had no trouble keeping up, despite fully monitoring the area around her. ¡°We might be in trouble,¡± Lyria began. Hearing that Arla could only nod in understanding. ¡°Your bodies are weak, too weak to fully contain the power you yield, as such you are losing energy at a rapid rate. All while noticing swift gains to your physical characteristics?¡± Arla posed as a question, but it was clear she had already diagnosed the problem. ¡°Exactly, I didn¡¯t. I mean, we didn¡¯t realize how much of a gap there truly was,¡± Lyria began. Arla just nodded in confirmation, while using the moment to track that a group of Cerusians were following them from behind. A quick glance forward showed that there was likely going to be a handoff, one where a second group took over the tracking of her and Lyria¡¯s movements. It was clear that the groups were far enough away that no one could hear them. Also, Arla gave out slight overcharged bursts that would fry most Federation standard, and Cerusian technology devices. The idea being to cancel any listening devices that might be trying to listen in at any given point. These bursts would obviously cause more questions to people who might be monitoring the pair, but Arla hoped that with Lyria being nearby, most of the advanced scrutiny would fall on Lyria, rather than herself. More tingling. This time, Arla was aware of the odd vibrations that the Cerusians were generating and felt something coming from the handoff group up ahead. Then as if choreographed, the new group waited for Arla and Lyria to pass by before taking a step out to quickly follow behind the pair. Meanwhile, the group of Cerusians that had been following Lyria and Arla to this point abruptly turned right down a different roadway that went to the military training fields. An area where these two Cerusians would have no business going, but it was clear they were just leaving to try to get away from Arla¡¯s gaze. ¡°Amateurs,¡± Arla hissed under her breath. The entire process was too choreographed and rigid, one team came on at the exact moment the old team left. Then to break off and go to a part of campus that would be closed to the group made the entire clumsy exchange seem almost comical. ¡°Hey, we are working on it,¡± Lyria protested. ¡°What?¡± Arla asked, only after speaking did she realize how her comment could have been interpreted as chastising Lyria and her group. ¡°Can you help us?¡± Lyria asked, changing the subject slightly. Pausing, Arla mentally weighed the options of doing a full Ignition on these students. Honestly, the entire process was beginning to become time consuming, and all the girls had so many tells that Arla was surprised more of the instructors did not have more questions. ¡°Yes, offer the full thing to everyone,¡± Arla suggested. ¡°Full? For everyone?¡± Lyria asked, wondering what happened to this model. ¡°Yes, I think we have run this to its course. One final payment and everyone walks away, no questions asked.¡± ¡°One payment? That¡¯s all?¡± Lyria asked, her voice incredulous as she tried to take in the implications. ¡°Yes, but under two conditions. First, a million per request.¡± Gasp. ¡°A million?¡± Lyria parroted back. ¡°That¡¯s my cut. I don¡¯t care what you get as the broker, but my cut will be a million per. Anyone not interested in this clearly didn¡¯t do the math.¡± Arla stated, implying the costs of doing the payments of ten thousand credits every two week, or less than a week in this case would add up to roughly 500K for the first year, and easily two million by the time graduation came about. Then the cost of trying to maintain their vaunted ranks without a steady supply. While it would be more lucrative to have a constant monthly payment, Arla couldn¡¯t help but feel that she was only as safe as the weakest links. And so far, all of the new S-Rank students all proved they were weak. Lyria was deep in contemplation for this, but then finally nodded, ¡°okay.¡± ¡°And secondly, see the pair behind us,¡± Arla asked casually. With that, Lyria did a full head twist, the way one might expect an owl to perform. Somehow she managed to only veer slightly off course with this random next spin, but her objective was complete as she did see the two Cerusians a modified couple of a male and female walking behind them. ¡°The Space Elves?¡± Lyria asked, using the slang term for them. ¡°Yes, though they prefer to be called Cerusians,¡± Arla commented. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Okay, so what about them?¡± Lyria asked while only giving a partial glance back at the pair this time. The pair had fallen a step or two behind, which was perfect for this next part, as Arla needed to have a distraction for her next plan. ¡°I need you to turn around and ask out the male,¡± Arla commented. ¡°I need to go on a date with them?¡± ¡°Try to,¡± Arla nodded. ¡°A mil and date a Space Elf, that¡¯s it, then you will agree to the new deal?¡± Lyria asked. ¡°Yes,¡± Arla began. She was even ready to mention lowering the price of a few of the purchases, but Lyria surprised her. ¡°Deal,¡± Lyria exclaimed, and then proceeded to pirouette in mid-step, performing a complete 180 degree turn before turning around, where she now faced the two completely startled Cerusians who had been tailing them. Seeing her gusto for the request, Arla smirked slightly as it was clear that this might be better than she had expected. Using Lyria in this was supposed to be little more than a distraction, a simple operation to let her get in close and see if there was something that protected these Cerusians from the annoying wavelengths of energy that now covered the school. The reason why Arla wanted Lyria to focus on the male was the fact that for whatever reason the female Cerusian was the one who held the new device that caused Arla¡¯s body to tingle and pulse with energy. With the female Cerusian focused on Lyria attempting to talk to her perceived partner, Arla would go in with her own distraction. At least, that was the plan that Arla had made up in her mind. However, the plan quickly went sideways, when Lyria clearly targeted the female Cerusian, instead. ¡°Why hello, fancy running into you here,¡± Lyria began. ¡°What?¡± The couple cried out in unison. ¡°Hey, get back here,¡± Arla called out, going closer to the trio. Lyria for a moment looked flustered, but then seeing that Arla had no intention of getting closer to her paused, and then seemed to fall into the roll asked of her. That of a seducer. ¡°Hey, I was wondering if you thought some of us were pretty,¡± Lyria asked with an odd amount of charm. Again, the only problem was that the focus of Lyria¡¯s seduction was on the exact wrong target. Still, Arla used this moment to do what she planned to do from the start. By now Arla had enough time to sense and focus her attention towards finding the origin points for these odd energy signatures. From the girl, it was a clear power broach that stood out on the woman¡¯s chest. The closer Arla got to the broach, the more that pulsing sensation behind her teeth began to flare to life. Moving more on instinct than anything, Arla moved in between the two. By this point Lyria had already gotten to within a foot and a half of the female Cerusian. By Arla cutting in between both of them, she made it so her body brushed up against both, then using her right arm she spun Lyria, while turning her body to fully face Lyria. ¡°How could you?¡± Arla declared and stared into Lyria¡¯s eyes, intensity and fury blazing. ¡°I loved you, and this is how you repay me?¡± There was a pause, as everyone stared at Arla and Lyria¡¯s exchange. Even the two Cerusians were at a loss for words. That was when Arla blinked once, almost as if trying to hold a tear, before turning and fleeing in a different direction. For a moment everyone just stared at each other in mesmerizing silence. What they missed, what everyone missed was the quick practiced no-look swipe performed by Arla with her left hand, while everyone was focused on her right hand that grabbed and twisted Lyria around. The movement was fast and so seamless that the female Cerusian the start of this little escapade failed to notice the pendant that was now missing from her military jacket. A pendant that caused two things to happen to Arla. First, that odd tingling sensation that had been rattling around in her teeth all day finally ended. Then the second thing that happened was she received a system message. A message from a system she had almost forgotten due to its inactivity.
Cerusian Tinkerer Quest Class Originated: Finding Tinkerer Materials: You have found your first Tinkerer¡¯s material, an item from the original universe. Study this material and replicate its designs. Rewards: Cerusian class Bonuses or Perks available.
And like that, Arla knew she had to leave the area before she was no longer able to contain her curiosity over the item that she had palmed up the sleeve of her uniform jacket.