New Meetings

The third chapter.

The wise, when faced with old enemies, make new friends.

- A Thanashun Aphorism

THE massive metal ring loomed large in the small anterior window of the craft. Shaolu and Yashuma had been travelling for hours in the tiny craft through the starry expanse. Were it not for the lighted display on the small ship’s piloting controls, they wouldn’t have known if they were moving at all. One could look out the rear portal to see the local star slowly receeding amidst a great bright blackness, but even that slow retreat was undetectable to the human eye.

Now that they were nearing the system jump gate, the craft slowed its progress as it made its approach. The ring grew larger, but incrementally so. While still some distance away, it occupied their whole view until they could no longer see it all at once.

“Over 2000 years and we still don’t know precisely how these things work. Fortunately, the gates were so incredibly well built that they practically maintain themselves. I suppose one could argue that the seemingly indefinite usefulness of the gates has impeded any serious effort in understanding and/or improving upon them. Of course, to me that seems rather short-sighted, considering it only stands to reason that these gates can’t withstand entropy forever. Regardless of any automation, at some point we absolutely need to understand the technology to the point of complete replication and then move beyond that. Imagine: new jump gates throughout unexplored sectors of the galaxy...”

Shaolu nodded in reply, only paying half attention. He was looking over the display panels, estimating how soon they would dock. Yashuma had been rambling on like this for well over an hour now.

“But do you know the real reason all of the necessary research hasn’t been done yet?”

“Uh...” Shaolu replied, realizing he was being asked some kind of question, but having missed its content in the midst of his preoccupation. Fortunately Yashuma continued without missing a beat.

“Bureaucracy. Plain and simple bureacratic ineffeciency. The Empire has far too many levels of hierarchy to concern itself with actually useful endeavors. Instead, the Dora’s administration has been too preoccupied with political posturing and the like, rather than things like infrastructure. And this has been the case going back hundreds of years--even across whole dynasties. Of course, the Dora isn’t alone. We can’t forget how the Council of Lords factors into--”

Shaolu held up his hand, gesturing for silence. “We’re being signaled,” Shaolu explained.

With furrowed brow, Shaolu read over something on the console and then proceeded to tap away on its interface. Yashuma waited quietly and used the opportunity to compose his thoughts. Once he latched onto a peculiar thoughtline, he was always anxious to continue. His thesis wasn’t always clearly expressed, as he tended to explore this or that tangent, but it was always clear in his mind.

Shaolu finalized his folding point request and transmitted it back to the gate AI system. In the midst of sending the request, Shaolu became intuitively aware that Yashuma was waiting on him. He turned to his brother and displayed a small gentle smile. “It will just be a moment, and they’ll send back a flight path.”

Yashuma nodded in return, suddenly feeling silly. Like many times before, here he was talking of the trivial and abstract when practical matters awaited them. Shaolu usually managed to indulge him in this eccentricity, but Yashuma still felt somewhat of a boy in Shaolu’s presence. He admired his brother’s resolve, his seriousness, his energy, and commitment. In return, Shaolu had buried away in his psyche a quiet respect and even envy for Yashuma’s talent for broad-minded analysis and philosophic synthesis"even if he felt that Yashuma could nonetheless benefit from spending a little more time outside his head.

The craft continued its slow voyage, gracefully gliding along its path through the quiet sea of space toward the circle of the massive gate. Mere meters away now, a door opened silently, and progressively flooded the void with light. The little vessel was bathed in its brightness as it reached the docking portal. Without pause, the small ship floated through the rising doors in one fluid motion.

“There will be grav plating in the dock, but once we enter the main corridor, the only thing keeping us to the ‘ground’ (so to speak) will be centripetal force in relation to inertia, as we are spun around in the constantly rotating ring.”

Shaolu replied with a nod.

“The gate’s spin rate is callibrated to simulate a gravitational force on par with Ayis San, so it will be a little lighter than we’re used to. The bigger concern, however, will be the noticeable impact on the fluid of our inner ears.”

“Good to know.” And Shaolu meant it. Neither of them had boarded a system jump gate before. Of course now Shaolu already had other concerns on his mind...

If he were to have any chance of retrieving the relic, Shaolu would need help. Qwedo was deeply embedded in the Colonial Militia. He was also sure that, while Qwedo had returned to Nasad alone, he wasn’t truly working alone.

To say that he was confident that day would be an understatement. His excited eyes hung over a smug smirk when Shaolu first saw him. “I will have it, one way or another,” Qwedo had said. His countenance had betrayed conceit, and his words concealed something more than simple self-assurance.

His was no rogue mission, of that Shaolu was sure. Nasad was part of the Ayis Empire, and the Colonial Federation could not simply confiscate the property of an Ayis citizen within Imperial space. That would cause too many political problems, especially with the Nibasuma family still retaining some measure of respect within the Council of Lords.

It would only make sense that they would send Qwedo alone. Regardless of the outcome, sending Qwedo would give the Militia plausible deniability. This kind of covert approach was completely routine for the Federation.

Then there was the question of why Qwedo would return at all. He had never before expressed any interest in the artifact. When he left Nasad, he vowed never to return. Why return two years later and demand Shaolu hand over the orb Grafe had entrusted to him?

Even at the time, Shaolu deduced that Qwedo wanted the relic for a deeper reason than petty possessiveness on account of his birthright. There was a good measure of envy and bitterness over Shaolu’s favored status with Grafe, despite being Grafe’s nephew, and Qwedo the firstborn. Nevertheless, Qwedo could have easily insisted on having the orb for himself when Grafe commended it to Shaolu upon his deathbed. He never bothered, because what little interest Qwedo had in the object amounted to nothing more than a passing fancy.

The cybernetic arm came as a complete shock. Shaolu lamented not noticing it. Implanted weaponry was illegal throughout both the Empire and the Federation. Of course, Qwedo was part of the Militia, for whom exemptions were occassionally made, but Shaolu had not expected Qwedo to forsake his Saktagres heritage so soundly.

Qwedo had hidden his thoughts well. Nevertheless, Shaolu felt blinded by sentiment. Then again, what would he have done differently? If Qwedo was working with the Federation as Shaolu now suspected, he would have taken the orb “one way or another” just as he had said. There was something more to the artifact. The Federation would have risked military action if necessary. Shaolu had no doubt of that.

So now the question at hand was how to track Qwedo’s present location and wrest the relic from Federation control. That was, of course, presuming that Qwedo even still had the orb himself. In any case, it was no small task, and he was going to need help...

Yashuma marveled at the artificial sky above as they made their way along the giant corridor. When he turned his gaze back toward the pathway, he was suddenly disoriented for a moment and had to regain his composure.

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to all this,” Yashuma remarked.

“Just keep your head forward, and you’ll fair better,” Shaolu said in reply, as he walked briskly along the massive corridor, his eyes scanning the crowd and the buildings to either side as they walked along.

“How much time do we have before our gate time?”

“Long enough, hopefully.”

“Eh?”

Shaolu spotted something in the distance, and changed course. Yashuma followed along dutifully, as Shaolu approached an information terminal. The machine was old and worn. A thin but noticeable layer of dust covered its screen. Terminals like these largely went unused on account of the prevalence of ocular implants. It was also ubiquitous for individuals without implants to at least use visors for external augmented reality displays.

Shaolu tapped away on the dusty weathered screen, as Yashuma waited nearby inspecting the surroundings some more. The hustle and bustle of foot traffic continued steadily, with occasional glances from the crowd. The two saktagres remained somewhat of a curiosity wherever they went, but most of the masses making their way through the large aisle ignored the robed adepts.

“Here's something...” Shaolu half-muttered aloud.

[Under Construction]

-⫷⫸-

Golden rays shone through the violet veil of clouds, casting both shadow and light upon a crystal shoreline. The young Yoshuru gazed upon the glimmering sea with quiet solemnity. He stood statuesque amongst the stones of crumbling ruins. The flutter of his cape and the delicate dance of the grass beneath his feet were all that moved in the light breeze of a slowly approaching twilight.

Yoshuru closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He let the light of the sun bathe his face in its warmth, as a cool wind tousled his hair. A sweet smell of perfume wafted in the air and mixed with the cool scent of an ocean breeze. With the aroma came the rustling sounds of steps on the grassy terrain of rocks behind.

“Swisan,” Yoshuru whispered. His eyes remained closed as she continued towards him.

He felt delicate fingers glide against the back of his hand and find their way back in to his palm. He gripped the hand with care, turned his head and raised his eyes to the figure standing by his side. He was greeted with cool green eyes and a warm olive smile, framed by long flowing locks of rich umber.