Ten Thousand Years, Ten Thousand Stars (Maintenance)

[Roania]

"The question on my mind, Grand Admiral, is why?" The Grand Secretary's tail lashed behind him as he stood in the throneroom, his cabinet kneeling in a semi-circle behind him. "You say your purpose was to secure a world along the westward expanse in preparation for the next wave of expansion. I am no star watcher, but even I know that there are hundreds of acceptable targets in even a small portion of the map. Yet of these choices your commodore chose a known world, one inhabited by thinking beings, and purged it. Never mind that Lethon was an asset to the cause of Harmony, as Secretary Lorelle had made clear to your office the last time the topic was raised."

Van Thuan had not gotten where he was by not defending his men when under attack by outsiders. The Tonhi sniffed. "Asking for the advice of the Honorable Secretary was a mere courtesy, and we followed her advice in the same spirit. To deal with pirates is a military affair, Excellency, and it was as a military affair that this expedition commenced and was carried out. The results, so far as I see, justify the means taken. We have secured a world, alignment has begun, a nest of scum and villainy has been wiped clean." Behind him, his admirals all nodded in agreement.

"To deal with pirates is a matter for my department, Grand Admiral." Lorelle rose to her feet now and met the older man evenly, hands resting on her hips. "You have killed thousands of potential witnesses and ended dozens of investigations before they even could begin! This is a clear..."

"Only should we have the misfortune to capture them does your department enter into the equation. They were enemies, in arms, to the Fleet. I do not expect a mere woman to understand the petty details. Stick to your petty thieves and deviationists. Let the men handle this." The Admiral deliberately turned away from her and to the throne. "Wouldn't you agree, Most Honorable Prince?" Cao said nothing, only staring in abject horror at the proceedings from his perch at the bottom of the steps.

"The murder of innocent lives is hardly not my business. And woman or not, I am a servant of the Dragon Throne as are you and you will speak to me with respect, Van Thuan." Lorelle also glanced up to the boy and smiled sweetly. "As I'm sure you agree, Most Honorable Prince. And I'm sure you'd agree, too, that murder is an offense against the Dignity of the Throne, and the mass murder of the innocents along with the guilty can only be murder. And that is why I have come. The Honorable Grand Secretary wishes to know why. I demand your man be handed over a thorough investigation and a trial."

"Your Highness cannot believe this blustering prattle! She accuses a servant of the Throne, Commodore Lee, of murder? Such a thing has never been said before! I object to this novelty, and I know that you will defend the rights of the Throne's Servants to act as they deem necessary. With protection from the feeble justice of the Secretariat. It is a man's galaxy, 'Secretary', and you should leave us to it."

Lorelle's expression changed sharply and she began to step forward. "I'll give you a man's galaxy! When I'm through with you you'll have as many..." Sieg blocked her progress with his arm and Aleis grabbed her friend and pulled her back down as she swore and cursed and tried to free herself to go after the man's throat.

The Grand Admiral shook his head and waved a finger. "I hope when you return home your husband will see fit to soothe you. Watch carefully, boy. This is what comes of putting women in places they are not fit for. Your predecessors all knew their role. Learn from them, 'Secretary'."

"Enough." Sieg put his hand to his head and took a few much needed calming breaths. "Lord,what we have here is a confused situation. Leaving aside the question of murder, for the time being, as emotions are too charged to discuss it reasonably..." This was said with a sidelong glance at the Admiral. "What is clear is that the Admiralty is pursuing its own policy, which is contrary to the principles of good governance. Lord, did you order this assault?" This was to the shadowed figure upon the throne, who until now had been absolutely silent.

The Emperor leaned forward now. "No. The Grand Admiral is competent to issue his orders to his underlings, as are you and the Grand Marshal, Grand Secretary. As you know." This was said with finality, and the Emperor leaned back. "I remind you that I am uninterested in your power struggles, and am only here to observe today. Direct your observations and requests to Prince Cao." Fingers met fingers and a serene silence fell upon the throne.

"You have heard the Lord, Grand Secretary. If there is no further business, then we will be on our way. Lord. Prince Cao." The Grand Admiral knelt three times and then rose with his supporters, to walk towards the door.

Sieg nodded slowly, his eyes on Cao. "One moment, Grand Admiral. You may wish to hear this. It is the policy of the Secretariat, from this day forward, that Commodore Lee Bu be outlawed, that his fleet receive no further supplies, and no aid or construction be directed towards the new colony being founded on the world previously known as Lethon. Further, I decree that there shall be no salaries drawn for Commodore Lee Bu or his men from the treasury. And that any man or woman of the Empire who provide aid or comfort to Commodore Lee, or his officers, or his sailors, be outlawed as well."

Van Theun's eyes narrowed, even as the admirals accompanying him began to shout angrily. "A bold claim, Grand Secretary. But you have no power with which to carry it out. And I will authorize the Commodore that if he will not be given what he needs, he is to take it by force. Let your watchmen stand up against marines and see how they do! Come, men! We're leaving." But when they reached the door...

"Hold it!" The word was sudden, and spoken quickly, and high-pitched. Cao coughed and managed to get his voice back under control. "Guards! Take Grand Admiral Van Theun and his associates into custody!" The guards appeared by the Admiral immediately, guns raised.

"What is the meaning of this, boy?!"

"You have just provided aid and comfort to a man who has been outlawed, and by the terms of the Grand Secretary's decree that renders you an outlaw as well!" Cao rose to his feet and pointed at Van Theun as the court broke out into confused whispers and chatter.

"Preposterous! Prince Cao, this is not under the authority of the Grand Secretary, this is the Hall of the Dragon Throne!"

"Objection! All men are slaves of the Emperor, and all men are men! And it is to the Secretariat that the laws over men have been given in keeping! Guards, conduct Van Theun and his associates to comfortable cells to await trial!"

"This is madness! Lord of Ten Thousand Years, will you allow your son to make a mockery of the navy? Take the boy in hand and discipline him!"

"Enough." The floodlights came on once more and the Emperor was in full relief. Worryingly, he was smiling. That never meant anything good. "Take my son in hand, you say? Very well. This solemn mockery is over. Guards! Stand down." He rose to his feet and stepped forward, one hand grabbing Cao's ear to pull him along quickly. "Stand where you are, Grand Admiral, I will have words with you. As will my son." The Emperor swept down the floor, followed by the Prince, who was starting to look very peaked. They reached the knot of guards and sailors. "Cao, Salute." The Emperor led by example, pressing fist to palm and bowing as his son followed. "Cao, apologize to the admiral."

Cao wanted to refuse. Very much so. But he had seen his father angry before, and he did not wish to see it again. "I... I'm sorry. I spoke without thinking... I acted without... I I am sorry..."

"That's enough, boy." The Emperor bowed again. "I apologize for my son. He is young, and he is overeager, and oftentimes I am afraid he acts without speaking. Let me make this right, Grand Admiral. Come forward. Each of you, in fact, come forward." He looked down for a moment. "You see, my son has made a terrible mistake, and it is my duty to fix it. And I will endeavor in future to make sure his education is more comprehensive than it has been. You have seen me shamed, each of you, and for that I beg your pardon. Not as your sovereign, but as a father." Sovereign or no, they were all very eager to accept his apology. "Cao. Do you know what you did wrong?"

"I... I..." The boy was bright red, humiliated, mortified. "I just... I was trying to... I... please, Lord, Admirals, I did not mean..."

"Very well. Learn from this. Sieg decreed a man an outlaw. And Yyou decreed these men outlaws and demanded they be taken into custody. Such a thing has not been done in centuries, yet it has happened twice in front of me. I am honored. But the forms must be followed." The Emperor placed his hand on Cao's chest and pushed him back, then stepped away himself. "Guards. These men are outlaws. Deal with them as such."

When the blood was beginning to cool, the Emperor took Cao by the shoulder and walked him to the Secretaries. "I appoint my son to your cabinet, Grand Secretary, and name him first Great Secretary for the Banners and Fleets. He will explain to you what he needs."

[Roania]

"Consider the bent willow."

"What?"

"Everything serves a purpose. Every object, every action, every movement. So we are taught. A grand oak tree may be made into tools. The peach tree grows fruit. But what purpose does the bent willow serve?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Lok She."

"Naturally, Tsun Wa. It is a rather recondite question, based in philosophy that it was my hobby to study in training. But a crucial one here. The answer is, of course, that one may lie down in its shade and rest."

"Speaking as a corpsman, I have to say that the claim that every action has a purpose is not necessarily... ah. You think they're up to something."

"Don't you?"

"Of course they're up to something. But what?"

"Let's consider the evidence. They say they are here to find physical remains and mementos for family members back home."

"Absurd, naturally."

"Not necessarily. Slaves have loved ones. Pirates have loved ones."

"Yes, but any records of where any slave was being kept was destroyed in the bombardment, Lok She. And they haven't exactly ventured too far afield."

"Exactly. And that's why we must consider the bent willow. Every action has a purpose. A reason, if you prefer. They chose this spot, though it is a rather crowded spot. Then, they landed without engaging their landing gear, as you pointed out. We may rule out that they were avoiding our interference in their stated purpose. We may assume their Ambassador knows and expects the Commandant will abide by the laws of courtesy. The Nemato do not appoint fools to their diplomatic service."

"Here to recover a hidden stash of information?"

"That would be the most likely scenario, I agree. But, Tsun Wa, to collect any information would easily be covered under their stated purpose, and the Commandant would have little cause to steal it. Unless that information is in another form entirely..."

"Surely you don't think..."

"Naturally, my dear Tsun Wa. Shall we step forward and offer your services, Doctor?"

"Lok She, are you serious?"

"Never more so. Come along, Tsun Wa. They will either let us in, or they will depart quickly. Them choosing to do so would prove... instructive, regardless. Now, where is my radio... ah, here we are. Ambassador Pear, this is Lok She of the Department of Internal Harmony's Intelligence and Security Unit. I am accompanied by Sergeant Tsun Wa of the Imperial Medical Corps. Does your new passenger require medical attention?"

[Roania]

"Whatever it is, Commodore, it's big."

"I can see that. Light. What was my predecessor thinking of doing?" Until the past week, Commodore Sin Naser had been merely a captain. A Captain in the second Fleet, in fact. It had been a surprise when orders had come out of the blue that he was to take up one of the recently vacated leadership roles in the forward fleets. He was an outsider here, though it was made better by the fact that so were his superiors, underlings and peers.

"Commodore Jin, prior to his transfer to the Fourth Fleet, was considering ordering its destruction." The Commander opened up an array of diagrams on his crystal. "Engineers investigating the exterior believe that charges at the points marked five, two and eight would cause sufficient damage to the outer armor that a breach would open, permitting a dorsal lance to make a strike on the area labeled nine, which seems to be the primary reactor for the construct." Irritatingly, the commander was one of the masked men. His flat voice betrayed no sign of his true feelings, and that blank metal face remained expressionless.

Sin contemplated these diagrams, and then the forward observation window. The immense half-sphere filled the horizon, occasionally venting gas from distant ports. "Life signs?"

"None, Commodore. No response to hails, and the Seer found no vitality. Anyone who was here is long gone." It didn't surprise the Commodore. From this distance, he could see the scars of battle and the points where construction had been abandoned.

"So what was it meant to be?"

"Our best bet is some tool for tapping the energy of the planet by purely mechanical means. An incredible project, perhaps the crowning feat of the civilization that ordered it." The Commander opened a few more holograms. "When finished, we expect it to have completely covered the world, drawing energy from its core through more of these spires marked here as A, D and F."

"Hm. How... primitive. Environmental impact?"

"The world itself is category J, and thus unsuitable for occupation. However, the construct appears to be interfering with the natural development of two of the planetary system's moons. In addition, impact studies suggest a distraction to the flow of energy along the way to Planet Dai-Nam, which is what led us to the system in the first place. Local population on Dai-Nam is Consolidation Delta."

"Interesting. Descended from the construct makers? Or from their enemies?"

"Insufficient data at present."

"I've heard enough." The Commodore leaned forward and contemplated his choices. "Very well. Order the engineers to place their charges, and begin preparing all crystals for full discharge. Let's remove this abomination from the stars before 12th bell. "

[Roania]

"Careful with those charges. If they go off early, we'll be going off with them." The lead engineer studied this designated explosion point with care as his assistants stood behind him. Each of them was carrying a vital component for their mission. Alone, they were harmless. Well, mostly harmless. "I'm sure you know your business, but I don't think our escorts know that." If by some chance two of these components came together, in large enough quantities the explosion would render a good chunk of a continent uninhabitable. As the construct was much, much larger...

"I don't like it here, sir. It feels... wrong. My teeth are on edge." Not that there was much to see in this section. The ages, battle damage and micrometeorites had cleaned this segment of hull of any decoration.

"Whiskers are buzzing, mrah!What if the suits malfunction!"

"Enough of that, both of you. I don't feel anything, and neither do you. In these hardsuits you can't feel anything, that's the point!" The Lead Engineer reflected on the possibility that he was wrong, and these chaps didn't know their business. "Now, give me the primer. And stop worrying, look at the marines. They're fine."

"Course we're fine, civvie. We're Fleet Marines. Not like the groundpounders you lot normally work with." Over the century or so of contact, some gestures had traveled from the west to general usage in the Empire. The hand movement the marine made was one of them. "All saying they're the brave and blue, but they ain't half as hard as we are. And you civvies? Ha! You're just civvies. We're first to the fight, and last out of it. Going without oxygen? No big deal."

"Enough of that, Marine. Eyes front. We're on the clock." Sergeant Mon Seehok stepped in, looking left and right. Unlike his men, he had his rifle unholstered and armed. "Seers don't know everything, and know how to explain what they do know even less. Remember the Atacan-Dara incident? Five hundred men lost. And they were good men, not slackers like you lot." He was an odd one. A Marine lifer, with his battle record and seniority he could have joined the officer corps, transferred to the regular navy, been a Marquis. But he never had. Rumor was that he had made enemies, and his career was long enough for that to be true. But the truth was, he preferred to work for a living. His squad knew that, and they loved him for it. "Sharps, take overwatch." The addressed marine stepped to the door. "Fuzz, I want you covering the shuttle. Even if we're alone in here, we're going to be making a hot exit and I know you'll put a hole in anyone who lets their panic override their good sense." With a flick of his tail this nmmr took his assigned position. "Rest of you? You're with me."

"Where are you going?" The lead engineer said, as his own nerves began to fray.

"In. My whiskers are twitching." They couldn't see his face, but they all knew he was smiling. "Make a hole, Panda."

"Thought you'd never ask, Old Man." This last Marine limbered up to the ancient access hatch and raised his left hand. Unlike all the other marines, 'Panda' was unarmed. Well, after a fashion. The left hand of his powered armor had been refashioned into an oversized gauntlet. Bracing himself against the door with his right hand, he swung his fist and... peeled the hatch open with a modicum of effort. "Figured you may like a bit of quiet."

"Kids these days. When I was your age, we used grenades and liked it."

"When was that? When the SeiAn were on the Dragon Throne?"

"None of your lip, Panda." The Sergeant turned to the engineers. "Alright. Here's the plan, Lead Engineer. I've lived too long to die because I ignored the twitching of a fuzzball's whiskers. My team and I are going in to investigate while you prepare this section for demolition. We'll be back in half-an-hour. If we're not, blow it anyway. Unless you hear from me otherwise." He pressed a hand to the lower part of his helmet, in unconscious stroking of his beard. "This is the most damaged and thus safest part of the construct. Before we move to the intact levels, I want to know what we may be dealing with here. Any problems, take it up with the Admiral. He's a busy man, but I'm sure he'll get to you before we have a new Emperor."

[Roania]

In ancient times, there were no magistrates or judges. Every Mayor was his city’s magistrate, and every Governor served as judge for his prefecture. And the Divine Duke Wen looked upon this, and he deemed that it was not good, and so he established the BoheijiXi, and in it the Faijuian, and when the Magistrates proved unable to handle the load of cases, he established the YanDae, so that the greater may be separated from the lesser, and the QiaunGiang to investigate crimes and the Reinjidi to bring cases before the Magistrates.

“Your Excellence, I am well aware of the history of your honorable profession.” Narufodo Lonyi bowed.

“And in all this time, Mister Narufodo, no one has ever seen the need for someone who serves in yours. You are a… how did you describe yourself?”

“I am an advocate, Your Excellency. I am here to represent my client to the best of my ability.” The spiky haired man bowed again, and indicated the trembling boy at his side. “I had just gotten off the shuttle from the Republic and found Young Mister Wugu’s father, Wugu Hen, that’s him in the audience, crying on the street outside. So, here I am.”

“…In all my years in office, I have never heard of such a thing being done.” The judge looked to the red-robed procurator on the other side. “Have you, Procurator Wosi?”

“I’m more concerned with how he got through the security.”

“Would you believe a lot of running and shouting?” The blue-robed advocate placed his hand behind his head and laughed nervously. “But I’m here now.”

“…as a matter of fact, I would. Regardless, we will not be needing your services, Mister Narufodo. The case is open and shut. As are all cases my department produces.”

“If the case is open and shut, then why do you object to Young Mister Wugu having a voice?” Narufodo put his fists on his hips and looked towards the officials of the court. “Every man is entitled to speak his voice before the Dragon Throne, is he not?”

“You know the answer as well as I do. But this is not the Hall of the Dragon, and I am not the Lord of Ten Thousand Years.” The gong rang, and every man and woman in the court rose to their feet.

“Ten Thousand Years to the Lord of Ten Thousand Years!”

Once they were seated again, the judge leaned forward. “It is not the habit of this court to permit the defendant to speak on his own behalf.”

“Then it is a good thing that I am here to do it for my client, is it not? Come, Your Excellency. I am here now. If your case is so strong, Procurator, then speak it before myself and my client. Let all men see the law work and be seen to work.”

“…I’d hoped that traveling to the Nemato would teach you something useful, Narufodo.”

“Well, we’ll see how much I’ve learned, won’t we.” The advocate bowed once more.

“Indeed. The Procuratorial department has no further objections to the presence of Mister Narufodo, Excellence. Let us begin this trial.”

[Roania]

"Princess, this is quite undignified. Come down here at once. You're drawing quite a crowd."

For months, the princess had been watching cartoons about so-called superior girls. They didn't do anything too special. Hardly superior at all. And then she had watched one of them lift off the ground and fly, without a gravcar or wings or anything! And that had been that. First, of course, she had tried to fly on her own. This had entailed lots of jumping up and down and off of things and on to other things, before she finally accepted the possibility that she just couldn't fly.

Though she had landed on top of her mean twin brother while he was teasing her, so that had worked out quite well.

Her next solution had been to study engineering, high technology and aeronautics for decades to finally break this powerful bond that held her to earth.

But that seemed like it would take a while. And mommy said she couldn't just learn the interesting bits, and lots of it had seemed very boring.

So she had gone and bothered daddy, who had (with very poor grace, she must admit) decided to spend money on making her dream come true.

"What's that? I'm sorry, I can't hear what the ground people have to say from up here in the sky!" Meili did a quick loop in the air and waved down to the audience. "Hi ground people! Oops!" Her robe, struggling with the wind and velocity, fell to the ground, revealing the secret of her gravitational success. The well-crafted silver corset clung tightly to her young curves. Resting on her bust was a single blue crystal, within which danced shadows and mist. On each shoulder and hip had been placed red gems, interwoven with the fabric and the crystal heart. The power of the crystal flowed to the gems, which projected the aura that permitted this feat. It felt, to her, as though she was swimming. It was wonderful.

"This is all your fault, you know. I told you to keep a lead on her."

"There was no way to predict a child would choose to float away the moment she was given the opportunity." The maid picked up her megaphone and shouted into it again. "Princess, if you come down now, there will be green tea cake with sweet bean filling!"

"Nuh uh! You just want me to come down so you can punish me. Well, you can't punish me if you..." And then she crashed into a lamp and started to cry.

"Oh, for pity's sake. Someone get me a ladder."

[Roania]

"And none of them returned?" Commodore Sin put a hand to his face. "Did you investigate?"

"Honorable Commodore, we thought it best to return to the Dragon's Vengeance and report to you." The Lead Engineer parted his lips in a thin smile. "Especially after the Nmmr he left on overwatch did go to investigate." The engineers hadn't waited for him to report back, of course. The moment he had vanished down the tunnel they had evacuated. Their oxygen supplies were running low and they didn't take orders from Marines, anyway. Besides, what got the rest of them would probably get the cat and then come looking for more.

"What was the Sergeant thinking?" The commodore pushed his desk back and rose from his cushion. "Scan for the marines, Seer."

The blindfolded young woman tilted her head to its side and concentrated. A blue nimbus surrounded her as she integrated her senses with the crystal, and the glow intensified as she obeyed her orders. "No lifesigns are present on the construct, Commodore. No sparks to our touch."

"What about recent deaths?"

"We do not feel any embers that once burned." The glow intensified yet more. "Yet there is something. An absence that should not be there, a hole where there should be mere void. We probe the edge. It is a lack of, not a something, yet is it a lack of a being or is it a lack of a room? It is new, it was not not there when last we looked." A screen appeared in the air next to the girl, displaying a map of the nearest section of the construct. The architecture had been mapped out by conventional scans, to a point, and up to that point a blue symbol hung in the air to show that the area had been seen. The blue symbols continued into the blackness beyond the scanned areas.

"There, Commodore." The engineer had checked his map and he now indicated a point on the screen. "That's where we were to set the charges, and that wall is where the marines went through." The map shivered as the crystal replaced the indicated wall with an opening. The hall beyond seemed to slope into the darkness of the unscanned area.

The Commodore scowled and looked at his list of duty ships, then flipped a switch on his desk. "Captain Lee, rescan your section of the construct. The structure has been altered." After a minute, the map filled in yet more, revealing another set of rooms. The hallway they were looking for, though, continued inward, beyond the reach of the scan, towards the absence the seer was studying. "Well. We've got a choice. We go ahead with the demolition or we investigate what cost us our marines." The Commodore flipped another set of switches. "All captains, I am calling an Officer's Council on board the Flagship. Situation and options will be explained when you... blessings of the light!" The Seer had suddenly slumped down, dead, a thick viscous liquid flowing from her ears, while a loud and terrible crackle filled the air. At the same time, a red light filled both the office and the rest of the ship. "Attention. The Surety of the Dragon's Vengeance..." Training could never prepare you for the actual event, but the Commodore handled it as well as any officer of the fleet could have been expected to. "The Surety of the Dragon's Vengeance is suffering a resonance cascade. The men will evacuate to the station Harmonious is the Bond Between the Stars. I am beginning an immediate transfer of information regarding the investigation to the battleship The Hammer of the Uncompromising. Captain Li Nguen? You are in command now." One last switch. "This is Commodore Sin. I am ordering a general evacuation of all officers and crew onboard this vessel. I will see to it my last responsibilities are carried out."

The panic was general as the men of the flagship's crew began to evacuate. But the Commodore said nothing about that, simply walking to the shrunken frame of the dead girl and gathering her in his arms. "Engineer, you should be on your way if you wish to find a spot on a lifeboat. Bring the child, see her body safely home." The engineer was passed the corpse. "Light keep you."

"Light keep you, Commodore." And the engineer was off.

The resonance was devouring the ship, and Sin had little time in which to work and much to do. He opened the emergency transfer channel and prayed that the data would reach his successor before the fire reached him.


There was a moment, ever so brief, where the flagship hung in the void, perfectly still. And then it shattered into a thousand pieces, like ice dropped from a high place. Fortunately, Sin was already dead well before that.

[Roania]

The Dryot had lived on the raiding of their neighbors. Descendants, perhaps, of some nomadic tribe, they had never cared to learn the hard work of farming for themselves. Even having become sedentary, they took the opportunity as merely an excuse to build larger ships. These ships trawled through an area of around thirty AU from their homeworld, taking food and slaves from some fifteen primitive worlds and avoiding worlds organized or advanced enough to stand up to them.

By sheer bad luck, one of their slavers had entered a system that the Empire's 7th Fleet was Pacifying. It had immediately fled, but not in enough time f battle group not to trace and follow. The Dryot fleet died quickly. Forces capable of pitched battle were rare in the galaxy, and the slavers had not considered it much of a risk. No quarter was asked, which was just as well, as none would have been given.

The battle finished, with picket ships detailed to chase down those who fled, the main battlegroup opened fire on the planetary shipyards with such intensity that those unfortunate enough to be living beneath them experienced a brief rain of molten metal, even through the protection of the atmosphere. Next came the remaining local satellites. At the end of an hour, nothing that did not belong to the Throne persisted in Dryot's atmosphere.

Then came the first communication, in a language they didn't speak. One of the slaves claimed she knew it, and translated it as 'Surrender'. They pinned her head to the ground in the public square.

Again came the transmission, in a different language. A second slave translated it in the same fashion. They tore his tentacles from its torso and pulled its antennae out.

Then there was silence. The Dryot didn't know it, but the Commodore couldn't decide if their silence was a refusal to cooperate or just a failure to comprehend. After days of waiting, there came a report. One of the outlying homesteads had been raided. There were no survivors. All the homesteaders were accounted for but one. The slaves were missing too, but who cared about slaves?

After another two days of waiting came a third transmission. This one was nothing but the screams of a child in mortal agony. It came across all communications systems, all transmission systems, even the simplest of radios. The only solution was to shut them down, but the Despot and his lieutenants couldn't afford to do that. They needed answers. That night, two of his lieutenants shot themselves. And there would still be three more days of screaming before the child mercifully went quiet.

That night, there was a final transmission, in a painfully accented rendition of their tongue. "All of your leaders, all of your shipmen, all of your scientists, all of your scholars, are to present themselves in your forums tomorrow morning. They will do this, or all of you will die. We are the Empire. We are the Will of Heaven. To fight us is to fight fate itself." The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, even reaching into the bowels of the earth, where many of the people hid. "Behold, the Will of Heaven."

Fire fell from the skies that night. All their grounded spacecraft and shuttle pads, all the slave processing centers, all were reduced to dust.

The dryot did as bidden. They would have been wiser to hide, if their intent was to eke out a few more days of life. Those who gathered to present themselves were incinerated. Leaderless, headless, the locals began to panic. They had never lacked physical courage, but this was not a foe they could fight, and the best of them were no more than shadows on the pavement. When the armored figures arrived and began to stalk the survivors, there were few attempts at resistance. Those who fled into the wild were found crucified on the square the next morning, next to the still hanging corpses of disobedient slaves.

At first, the steel men simply took the slaves into custody. Unless the Dryot fought or tried to protect their property, they were paid no heed. If anyone did stand up for their property, though, the steel men took them and their entire family into the street and butchered them. A few of the Dryot, proud as they were, blamed their slaves for this. Slaves in towns that the steel men hadn't reached yet would often be gathered together and massacred.

No one ever heard from those towns, though the lances of fire were visible from miles away.

Resistance collapsed. They could not flee, they could not fight. Even in towns still held by locals, the slaves were beginning to refuse instructions, to disobey their betters, sometimes even to take up weapons themselves! The steel men didn't seem to care about this, though. Those slaves were taken into custody like all the rest, and it was too much to hope for that they would be punished.

In much less time than it taken to capture the slaves in the first place, the slaves were gone. Either dead or stolen. 1/4 of the Dryot population was gone as well, either from bombardment or murder. And some from suicide. And yet, the steel men weren't finished yet. Next they came for knowledge. Public databases and libraries were incinerated. Books were taken and reduced to ashes before horrified eyes. The Despot's hold was barricaded, its staff trapped inside, and set alight by impassive steel men. The same happened to every shrine, church and temple. It took months before the steel men were satisfied, months where the only food the Dryot had were their own stores or the paltry rations some of the steel men would trade for information on caches of lore or wise men. Months where families and friends were torn apart by fear, doubt and uncertainty.

Then, finally, they came for the children. This was enough. Some of the dryot found their pride, and went to war to defend their young, using hidden weapons, their own three fists, or even simply rocks and sticks. The smarter knew that that was what the Steel Men had wanted, and they stayed out of it. And soon, it was only them and the children left.

One of them, who had been of a low caste back when castes had mattered, had made himself useful to the conquering force. He was now the Despot, word said, and he would speak to the people. And he did. "History begins anew this day! We are a free people, we are a proud people, we are a strong people! Free, for we are no longer the slaves of our slaves! Proud, for we are no longer humbled before false gods! Strong, because we no longer bear the weight of our past! I, Botaneities, have been acclaimed as Despot, and I have asked our friends, our saviors to help us stand strong! Forget our past, because it is dead! And good riddance! Our future is bright, our future is guided by Heaven! There will be tough times ahead, but with the aid and guidance of our friends and our Emperor, we will triumph! All will say, as I say now, May the Empire Stand for Ten Thousand Years!"

[Roania]

"It's not actually possible, you know." This was rank heresy, a disgusting attack on everything the Empire stood for. Made only marginally more acceptable by the fact that the person saying it was, in fact, the Emperor. "And why should it? I don't want to rule most of these barbarians. I can't imagine my successors feeling any different." The glowing lines that indicated the present limits of Imperial Expansion appeared on the map. They made up a notable, but small, percentage of the galaxy. "We have to ask ourselves, gentlemen. Is this galaxy worth the subjugation?" Flashes of current conflict zones and barbarian kingdoms flickered through the projection. "An ugly lot, for the most part. No beauty, no poise, and scarcely anything worth taxing."

"With respect, Lord, that is not a question we can ask. All must bend the knee. This has always been our way."

"And we have reached the point, Grand Marshal, where it is stretching us thin. There are only so many people who are able and willing to serve in the Banners." The Emperor tapped the report that had brought Him here. "And I, gentlemen, would sooner die than induct the teeming barbarians of the outer sphere to make up the gap. Would any of you care to disagree?" None of them did. Barbarians wearing the blue and gold? Preposterous. "The current pace of expansion is not sustainable with our current resources, and I, for one, do not believe the game is worth the candle. If we push any further, we are liable to lose what we already have. We must focus on our current holdings. Given time, resources and a targeted campaign, we could begin to expand the middle sphere to include the more pliable tributaries. This would increase, over time, our manpower."

[Roania]

It was an old building, in a city where most buildings were old. That was good. That meant it did not stand out. It did not seem to be beyond the norm. After all, what was taught within was for all men, everywhere."Salaam Aleichem. Thank you for coming." Abdel Al-Fataa was old, but he had always been old. He could not remember his youth with any certainty. He looked to his wife, who was greeting the women on the other end of the room, smiled, and then back to his guests.

"Ar-lai kon' saarlem, Pooren Jiinxian." The Rudanese were always careful to remove their shoes before stepping inside any building, and the sight of a large quantity of boots was not unusual. The bright leather boots of soldiers, dainty slippers of women, the sandals of merchants and even a few of the flawless silk-topped shoes of nobles and mandarins. They all sat next to one another.

"And you have bought a guest?" The weathered, but friendly face turned to the newcomer. "Way-yu." It was not so hard to bow as some people in the Segments had said it would be. The natives were not as ferocious as he had been led to fear, and they were not so demanding. A slight bow of the head, and they were satisfied. It had probably not been so easy on Earth that Was, but we all had had to make concessions for Allah's path.

The young man looked between his companion and him, and then over to the other side of the room, where a young woman of his acquaintance stood with her mother. "Wei'lyu'." The boy muttered, grudgingly. So. A girl. Well, a woman, perhaps, in this land. That was not uncommon. He had not encouraged it, of course. People should be brought to the faith by reason, or so he and many of his brothers believed. They were disputed with, but then everything could be disputed and still be serving the Great Unseen, as the locals called The Most Merciful.

"I will not ask your story. I am sure you feel you are right, and more, that you are being imposed upon. If you will tell me..." He placed a hand gently on the younger man's shoulder. That was readily accepted. These people used their hands on one another such all the time that to fear or shrug off contact was rarer than he had ever seen. "I do not pretend to know the truth of the matter. What I do know, I can teach, and what I don't know, I learn." It was a sentiment one of the local thinkers had come up with many centuries ago, but a relatively common one at home, said to be from the Earth That Was. It was these discoveries, here and elsewhere, that had begun this new wave of missionary activity. All men were men, all women were women, and all who had hands could probably lift them in praise. Not exactly a realization of the faith, of course, but he could appreciate the meaning. There were others who did not, but they would follow in his footsteps and those of his colleagues. It had always been thus. The Parsis had been converted over the objections of the zealous, as had the Turks. He did not think he would ever be so successful, but he stood on the shoulders of giants, and not all of those giants had been as open-minded as he.

"She won't marry me, and she won't even let me kiss her. And now she's wearing... like she's from like the 2nd Dynasty or something." The boy seemed on the verge of tears or of rage.

"Your friend has changed, and you wish to understand." The Imam nodded. In truth, the change of clothing among the female... converts... had not been particularly dramatic. The locals had always held up modesty, even if that was just to make it an easier target. But to one used to women being all too free with their beauty, especially their female friends, it was doubtless a shock."I could say many things about the things that frighten you, but before I do, I ask you to come inside. Sit with us. You need not pray if you do not wish to. You may ask questions, and if I cannot answer at the moment, I will answer them at the end." There were answers, of course. But they would come. You could not force a man to accept the truth, though many of his more zealous co-religionists would disagree. Strongly. Of course, anyone could have said that, and felt that.

So it was no surprise when the doors swung open halfway through the prayers, and an elderly man in fine silk stepped in, surrounded by the local watch. "That's enough of that barbarian jabber. You're all under arrest. And you, young lady, are coming with me and my grandson." The girl was lifted off the ground by one of the officers. "You'll be married at once. We still have your written consent from before your parents went mad. That'll do in the Temple.."

"Grandfather, I never... why are you? Not no..."

"Don't speak unless spoken to, boy." And there was the solid smack around the back of the head, right on cue. These people were depressingly predictable, at times. Much like every people.

"We're all under arrest?" The Imam looked to his colleague and future replacement, who had somewhat frozen in fear, along with roughly 1/2 of the congregation. The other half, though, remained kneeling. "Then it won't matter if you let us finish our prayers. In half an hour, we'll all come quietly." He had, in an earlier life, stared down the gullet of a particularly hungry troll. These lackeys of a far weaker and lesser evil didn't even faze him. "As you were, Servants of the Faithful." Push came to shove, he doubted his congregants would stand up to their 'oppressors' on his behalf. He wouldn't expect it of them. But he could show them how to handle himself. And with deliberate slowness, he turned his back on the guards and resumed his prayers to a far greater lord than he could comprehend. Though with a moment's sleight of hand.

Thankfully, these were standard issue local cops. Unarmed except for a stick, and probably well aware of the consequences of using that stick on a few of those present. So while the Grandfather fussed and fumed at his underlings, he could lead his congregation to the end, where they concluded with a prayer of his predecessors composure. But first, "And now it is our custom to pray that Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful, bless the Lord upon the Dragon Throne. As his officials are present I will note It is my custom pray in the language of my my home, but tonight I will pray in English, so as not to offend either of our Lords with my poor use of your speech and so you may tell me in what way I have erred. And then we will happily go with you. Any objections?" Any potentially treasonable objections? A spot of cynicism said. Praying for monarchs was not, in general, a thing his faith did. But needs, and local feelings, may require... "May the Most Gracious grant our
Lord Grace. May the Most Merciful lead our Emperor to judge with mercy. May the Holy Bless our Lord of Ten Thousand Years with Ten Thousands of Ten Thousand of Years," And so on, similar to a catechism he had studied at an ecumenical council once. Finally, they reached the end.

He returned to his own language, briefly. "B-ismi-llāhi r-raḥmāni r-raḥīm! May it be his will that our Emperor, the most Magnificent Sovereign upon the Dragon Throne, rule for Ten Thousand of Ten Thousand years. May it be his will that the Lord rule justly! May it be his will that the Lord always know victory!" The congregation cheered at each call. "May it be his will that his sons be strong! May it be his will that his daughters be fair! We do not ask this of you on his behalf, Oh God. We ask it for us!" That got the loudest cheer of all. It sounded like even the officers joined in. "And now, ordinarily, I would invite you all to the other room. It is a fine tradition of your people, and many others, to offer a meal after a ceremony. But, I am afraid we have other calls upon our attention." And so he rose and began to pick his way through the crowd "Do not concern yourself with your mats, I and my wife will store them when we return." So many things to run through. "Remember that while the Zakat is not due for another two months, sadaqah is always welcome and will be used as per the initiatives we decided at the last meeting of the community council."

"You're going to drown for this, charlatan." The grandfather growled. "You won't be coming back."

Abdel knew they were all watching, and he raised his hands and held them together to be bound without a fight. "If that is the will of Allah, then so be it. He will find me, on land, in the water, or even buried in the deepest earth." There was some whispering over that. "Can you say the same?" He smiled gently. "Before you answer, consider this. I am a guest of the Emperor. I have the right to request him as my judge."

"No one's going to stand up and back your admission to the palace!" The old man snapped(Abdel was an old man too, of course, but these people could get old). At that, about fifteen hands rose up from the crowd. Important hands. Attached to important people. Well, he assumed they were important, but who could tell here? One of them belonged to the guest from earlier. "What are you doing?"

"This isn't what I wanted! And I don't want to marry her if she doesn't want to marry me anymore. I just wanted to understand why..." The grandfather moved once again to beat his grandson.

But Abdel was very clumsy in his old age, and he accidentally slipped and knocked the other man down, then even more accidentally swiped his leg in a way that tripped him over with a crunch across the knee. "My sincere apologies. You know how we barbarians are."

[Roania]

"So you're going to follow me around all day." Asen Meili, Princess of Dawn, glared at the guard who was presently the bane of her existence. "I've lived here all my life, you know. This is my home." Glaring at that wide, powerful chest, no doubt as solid as a stone wall under that irritating robe and shirt, wasn't doing her any good. She moved her eyes up, grudging him the effort, first to his strong chin (so clearly defined that no doubt it would feel sharp if she was for whatever reason to kiss); to his lips, which seemed so inviting that she couldn't help but resent the way they were framed by his beard, which would tickle her if he had the nerve to kiss her, as he was doubtless considering; and finally to those eyes that seemed so warm and generous and kind that she despised how they crinkled with amusement, the green eyes so deep she could swim into them.

"Sorry, Princess. I don't answer to you." The voice from above said. It was a nice, deep, rumbly voice, hot and smooth like... like... like melted chocolate. Horrible, horrible melted chocolate. Why did Guardsman Shin Takeo have to be so annoying? He had been annoying when they had been at the same school, and he was just as annoying now that he had graduated and come back as a member of the guard."The Lord ordered me to keep an eye on you, wherever you go, and make sure you don't leave the inner gardens. That's what I'm going to do. He said to tell you that maybe you shouldn't have failed that last test."

She ground her teeth as she stared into his eyes, and he stared back, causing her body to heat with her anger. "Well, fine. Be that way." He probably couldn't catch her. No way someone so large and strong and tough could also be as fast as her. "Fine. I'll be good." Deciding she couldn't stand the sight of Takeo anymore, she turned her back on him, even sticking the pert roundness of her rear out to show her contempt. She could sense his eyes immediately going there, and the heat of her prideful anger grew hotter. "But only if you can catch me, Takeo."

"What?" He blinked, no doubt dumbfounded by the rudeness she could get away with, because she was a princess and he was just a servant. That was just enough time for her to drop her robe to the ground and give him a glance at her long, elegant legs, just to give him a hint as to how fast she was about to take off.

"Bye!" And with that, she was off. Confined to the inner gardens, was she? Well, daddy had only assigned her a babysitter. Lose the babysitter, get out and over the garden fence, and she'd be free. Daddy would forgive her, he always did. Besides, it wasn't like it had been an important test. Daddy would understand once Mommy wasn't angry with her anymore, and Mommy didn't stay angry for long, and didn't Mommy tell her that she had a responsibility to do the right thing for herself? Yes!

Or so Meili was thinking, until in the garden with the low fence for her to vault she ran headfirst into the man she had been glaring at. "Hey!" Was all the Princess could say as her momentum knocked him over, almost into the garden’s fountain, while powerful arms went around her and held her so tight that she could feel the powerful beating of his heart against her warm, soft chest. “Ah! You…” She couldn’t stand him, and she made sure he knew that by pushing back against him with her breasts, which ached with pain even from his touch. “Let go of me!” So much did she hate him that her voice choked on those words.

“As you command, Princess.” His voice rumbled in her ear, sending hateful chills up and down her spine., and he dumped her into the stream that, too late, she realized he had been keeping her from.

The cool water soaked her shirt and pants, tightening the fine cotton against her youthful curves. And she stood up, making sure he got a good look at what his clumsiness and awfulness had done. “You… you…”

“I was advised by my predecessors that this was your preferred escape route, and I wasn’t trying to hide from anyone, so I just walked here.” His eyes were on hers, and they hadn’t moved from hers the entire time. Didn’t he have a sense of responsibility?!

“Look what you’ve done!” Meili managed to insert a note of command into her voice, such that even her Daddy would be proud of. “You’ve ruined my shirt!” She slid one hand down the side of her body, while the other pointed out the greatest damage. “This is all your fault!” And as he looked at her, again she felt that thrill of revulsion, especially when she led his eyes over the increasingly tight fabric of her chest. Oh, how she hated him. She wanted him to get a good look at his crime, too, so she made sure to thrust her breasts out as his eyes reached them, making sure he got a good look at every stained and splattered inch. “I’ll never be able to wear this shirt again, you know.”

Takeo’s jaw was working silently as he acknowledged his error. Good. At least he was finally being respectful. And his shirt… well, that was also ruined. Which served him right, as she saw how it clung to his corded muscle, revealing the raw strength that he had, but minutes before, used so cruelly in his gentleness.

“Well. Obviously, I can’t go into the city like this.” Meili fretted, lowering her voice almost to a whisper to emphasize the seriousness of his offence. “Was that your plan? To get me all wet?” She turned her back on him again and walked several steps to show how even though she had landed on her chest her backside hadn’t been unscathed. “Well, it worked.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to escape in the first place?” That sent shivers up and down her spine as his hateful presence drew nearer. “I know you don’t like me, but I’m just doing my job.”

“Of, course I was going to try to escape.” Meili stuck her nose in the air. “I think Daddy and Mommy would be disappointed if I didn’t. And it’s not fair that big sister and my brothers get to go out and in and I have to stay here.” He was so close he could almost touch her with those horrible fingers. “I need to get out of these clothes. You should help me.”

“I should, should I?” Takeo sounded more amused than anything else. “The Lord told me I wasn’t allowed to touch you, you know. Unless I really had to. So, when you told me to let you go, I had no real choice.” His voice lowered to match hers, and it was so gross that she couldn’t help but shudder.

“Well, it’s your fault I’m like this.” Her lips were suddenly dry as she contemplated how close he’d come in the past minute. They were the only part of her body that was. “So, I think you have to.”

“I don’t know…” His fingers almost brushed her long orange hair, and she let out a soft, frustrated growl. How unchivalrous! How ignoble! She knew Takeo was terrible, but how dare he refuse to take responsibility!

“I’m still a princess, and you’re my bodyguard, and I’m ordering you to help me out. You’d be doing a terrible job of protecting me if I got sick because you dropped me in a stream.” Her shirt, in particular, was feeling much tighter than usual. No doubt all sorts of horrible things would happen to her if she didn’t get out of it. In fact, she was already feeling feverish, that was why her breath was coming so fast.

“So, Asen Meili,” Takeo’s fingers brushed those on her right hand. “You are ordering me to help you undress.” His left hand rested, just for a moment, on the gentle curve where her waist blossomed out into her hip, and it was so awful that her left hand had no choice but to rest on top of his, just to hold him still and keep him from moving. So horrible that she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pure contempt.

Light, how she hated him. She had hated Shin Takeo, youngest son of the Taikun of Dali-Yan, ever since they had met, of course, but she had never hated him more than in this minute. She hated him even more now than she did when after three years back on his stupid planet, he had come back to be a guard and joked to her idiot twin brother about how much she had grown up. She hated him almost as much, in fact, as when she’d overheard him and his stupid friends talking about her big sister, and he’d mentioned her in… in such a way that she had… and then she’d to cry in Xeiri’s bed.

“Yes, Shin Takeo.” If he wanted to be formal, then that was what he deserved. “I am ordering you to get me out of these soaking wet clothes.” His right hand joined his left on her hip at that, and she knew he was standing right behind her. “Unless you still think I’m so flat that you could lay me out in the sun to dry.” He went quiet, and she could do nothing but think that there was nothing he could say or do to make her forgive him. And then his hands traveled up her waist and to her breasts, and with some pride she noted that he could barely fit her in each hand.

“You were a little girl.” One hand traveled around her, his fingers with no little expertise claiming and mastering the warmth above her heart, and it hardly seemed terrible at all. The other gently found its place on the peach of her rear, moving as though it was his aim to pluck it.
“I wasn’t that little.” Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled her to him and returned his full attention to her increasingly aching chest, leaving her rear to other, less dexterous parts of his body. “And it still hurt.”

“There is still a difference.” She felt his beard before she felt his lips, but it merely raised her anticipation of the moment when she felt a warm, masculine tongue find and leave its mark on the ivory of her neck. “But I am sorry I hurt you.” There was a catch in his voice now, his breath and his confidence shaken. She knew why. She could feel why. And she had done this. He wanted her. The boy she had wanted to prove herself to for years… she had more than done that. “But do you really want this? You have to decide now, because I think I may die if we go any further and you refuse me.”

She had never let a boy touch her before; not like this. Meili doubted that she had been saving herself for this moment, and for this male. And she didn’t know where it would lead. But the pleasure of his touch, and the pleasure of his desire, mingled quite naturally with the sensation of conquest, of vindication. “Well, my father would probably kill you if you took me by force.” It was an effort to remain steady, her hatred melting in the furnace of her arousal. “But if you’d die anyway, I hardly think that’s much of a discouragement.” She turned in his arms and slipped hers up and around his neck. “I know you want me.” And it was intoxicating, to be wanted by this boy who’d so cruelly described her.

He kissed her when she faced him, and every daydream about his lips and his beard came true in those minutes of passion, during which she could feel, was more than aware of, the actions of his hands to strip her of the soaked fabric of her shirt. “I think you want me too.”

“Yes.” She was shy, but not too shy. “I’ve been taking the shots for a year now.” Meili whispered as her torso came free and she dropped her arms to let him pull her shirt down, and then her pants. “You won’t get me pregnant. And if my father gets upset, well, he’ll have to get upset with me.” Her lips bit his shoulder as Takeo’s fingers did a very interesting thing to her. “After all, you’re only a man.” She bared her teeth in imitation of Lixuan crowing about a victory. “And I am a Spirit of Love and Beauty. Really, what chance did you have once we got started?” And that, as she got into the work of removing his clothing, was the last either of them said for a time.

[Roania]

Code: Select all

Presiding Grand Secretary: Greizon Seig
*Departments Represented*
Internal Harmony: Justiciar Syn Lor'lel
Foreign Affairs: Secretary Alei
Communication: Postmaster Nmmr
Prefectures and Tributary Kingdoms: Sankeongthat Panchilar
Office of the Audit: Sun Ailin
Treasury: Chancellor Pan Seon
Trade: Yamisuki Mako

*Not Present*
Rites and Rituals
Agriculture and Mining
Forests and Fields
Education

*Outside Institutions Represented*
None

***=RESUME MINUTES=***

GS: Thank you, Postmaster. I am sure we all appreciate your efforts to streamline the Yellow Prescript, and I will ensure the Lord Upon the Dragon Throne is informed of your service. Justiciar, you had a report on these so-called 'Submitters to the Lord of Heaven' you wished to provide?

IH: As per the Imperial Rescript, I have released them on their own recognizance, with a stern warning and an invitation to recant before the trial of their leader in the Dragon's Hall. This 'Abdel Al-Fataa', if that is his real name, is primarily confined to his residence until he is called before the Throne. He has also, at his request and under the advice of our scholars, been provided with access to the Yut consulate, under heavy guard.

Tre: At a significant cost in both manpower and resources, I want it noted. This operation is costing the treasury...

IH: My department's manpower and resources, as allocated at the beginning of the year, and only with such additions as permitted by common practice.

Tre: If the man wishes to flee, he should be encouraged to flee. If he intends to stay and stand trial, a constant Watch presence is unnecessary.

IH: I am not in the habit of questioning the judgement of your tax collectors. Do not question the judgement of my officers.

GS: Your view has been noted, Chancellor, and in the coming year we will revisit the issue of a special fund once again. Now. What is happening in the Dominion?

[Roania]

"It is considered.... polite... to kneel before me." The Emperor leaned forward, his hands resting on the immense stone dragons that served him as arms rests. It was the first time Abdel had ever seen this most reclusive of monarch's faces, and the Imam had to admit he wasn't overly impressed. Though he did approve of the (admittedly wrongly directed) fervor with which the locals avoided representation of this one being. "Guards, Abdel Al-Fataa has forgotten his manners. Remind him." One hand, with its long and delicately pointed nails, rose. The thumb met the middle finger, and snapped with finality, the loudest sound Abdel had heard since being brought before the throne.

All around him, his congregation cowered. He could not, he admitted, blame them. Civilians, to a man, and threatened with a death that they were still half-sure was final, by a judge from whom there was no earthly appeal. And yet, none had recanted, though he was sure they had been offered severe inducements to do so. He was proud. Not for how well he had taught them, but for how they had responded to the truth of the Prophet's teachings.

As for Abdel himself, he was not impressed, nor was he afraid. Yes, the Segments had told him that by coming here he had essentially forfeited their protection; he had known that when he came. One did not teach because it was simple, one taught because it was important. And it was time for another lesson, before this dark tyrant. The faithful had stood before far worse, even back on Earth-That-Was. To their shame, their own number had often been among them. He would not dishonor his ancestors by bending now. Perhaps some of his colleagues would say that this was a place where cooperation was required. Perhaps he had too much of Dar al Din in him. Yet had not the Prophet, peace be upon him, himself strictly forbidden bowing, even to show respect? "I mean no disrespect, Emperor. I stand not out of disrespect, but because I cannot kneel before you."

The Emperor raised his hand, and the guards stepped back a pace. "An old man, his knees are stiff. Yet when they found you, my servants found you and yours kneeling, indeed, genuflecting, before the empty air. You whose knees are flexible before the void, and yet not before the Lord of this Galaxy, shall explain yourself."

A teachable moment? Abdel al-Fataa saw it as such. "You are puissant, I have no doubt. Over men and worlds alike. All men and all worlds, perhaps." There was no harm in bending to such a ludicrous claim here; so many claimed so. "But there is another, whose power is in the wind, in the water, in the earth, in the flame, in the empty spaces and in the full, in the darkness and in the light. He is Lord and Master, he is the most gracious, he is the most merciful. He it is who lifts the fallen and strengthens the weak."

The Emperor did not seem pleased, and the blow of a hand across his face soon proved that. Abdel staggered, but he remained standing, and the Emperor rose from his throne. "It is I who lift the fallen and strengthen the weak. There is none above me. Will your 'Lord and Master' save you? From the Earth that swallows? The Water that drowns? The Fire that burns? The Wind that strips the flesh from bone? At my command, old man, and by my will."

"At your command, but not by your will." Abdel answered, as though teaching the youngest of his children. "They are set in motion by forces beyond us all, and it is only through your men that you make use of them. He will not save me, if such is not his will, but I will die knowing that he could save me, and that I will be welcomed as his servant. But will my death save you?"

"Impudence." The Emperor settled back on his throne. "Your death, the death of all of you, would save me from the headache that you are causing. To throw you to the sea or to bury you in the soil would be meet and fit for those who fight the law and endanger the public order." Those delicate fingers gently stroked the imperial beard. "Beg for your life."

"I would beg for the life of the faithful, but I fear you have made your decision. To plead before inexorable fate is to diminish their deaths." Abdel Al-Fataa held his hands up. "I am old, and I have lived long, and I have served Allah. If it is your will to slay me, and Allah's will that I die, then I will not beg for my life. To beg for the sake of entertaining cruelty is not a fit way for a man to die." The Emperor scowled. "But I would ask you one question. That is my right, before this court, is it not?" The Emperor did not answer, which was answer enough. "What have we done that you would order our deaths? You need no broken law to have us executed. All the galaxy knows that." He had his own thoughts on that, but they had precious little bearing on the subject. "But you yourself have said that all should learn from the sages of your people, and they teach that a man's death is a heavy burden to carry. Do you not say that those who command death should be the one to carry it out?" The Emperor sat as still as a statue, dark eyes glittering like two burning coals in his impassive face. "Do we not deserve to know the reason you kill us?"

The Emperor leaned back, and vanished into the shadows of the overhanging curtain. "Brave." He used the word as others have used far worse words. "I hold your life in my hand, Abdel al-Fataa. And you speak for those cringing behind you. Their lives hang as well."

"I speak only the truth." Or the truth as he saw it. Allah, in His mercy, did permit lying to the infidel, but only to forward his cause and for other such great reasons. To practice taqqiyah here would serve no purpose, save to dishonor him and Allah. It would only possibly save his life, while certainly destroying any slender hope there was of spreading the faithful.

"You worship the Gods, do you not? That is enough reason."

"We worship the same force you do, the Lord in Heaven, whom you call the Light. He drinks no blood, he demands no sacrifices, and all do him obeisance as per their own faithful way." Another teachable moment. "Even the names for him are similar. You call him Ai, the light, after his greatest creation, and also Ae', for his love. My people address him as Allah, the Lord, and he is known for his love of all, and he is known for the glory of his creation."

"My predecessors heard similar nonsense. Ask your Allah what happened to them."

This was dangerous ground. His order had done its homework, of course, same as they would with any prospective converts. It was not in his nature to truly condemn Christians, even though of course he thought them wrong. And now was not the time to confuse the issue overmuch. "Many ages ago, the Prophet came to our people and taught us a way. A way not just for our people, but for all people, everywhere and everywhen. Brotherhood, honor, family, honesty, kindness. These are the principles of our faith. We do not condemn your ways. I do not ask my followers to abandon their families, nor do I damn your venerated ancestors, nor do I declare a man as God."

"You speak prettily. Poorly, but prettily." The Emperor waved a hand now. "Dismissed. Return to your businesses, to your families, to your worship. What is one more folly? So long as you break no laws, and cause no trouble, and do not upset the people, you are free. We will enter your teachings in the book of ways and we will tax you as we tax all. Pray to Allah that you do not come to my attention."

"With Your Majesty's permission, it is custom in our faith to pray for you and your continued good health." This was not true, but it would be. In time.

"I need no prayers."

"We do not pray on your behalf, but on ours. When the Emperor is well, all the worlds are well, is this not written?" Abdel al-Fataa had done his research, and his predecessor, and his predecessor before him. The empire valued education and research, especially in the narrow corpus of its official canon. It was his hope that one day, his successors, and all mosques and madrassas, would prove equal to that set challenge, and thus storm the ramparts (peacefully, of course) of imperial high society. "Surely you can see why we would hope Allah would bless us with your well-being."

A dry chuckle was the only answer. "If it pleases you to pray, then I hope it pleases Allah to listen. Dismissed. I will have my slaves proclaim your freedom and your protection. You, in exchange, will provide me with tribute. Your holy book, and a statue of your prophet and his god, I think. They will look fine and well in my treasure halls."

Okay, so this was going to take a bit of work.

[Roania]

"What is the first law?"

The Emperor's word is the first law.

"What is the second law?"

Venerate your ancestors, for they are your roots. A tree that pays no heed to its roots is unstable.

"What is the third law?"

Revere the Spirits of the five paths, for in their balance they honor you.

"What is the fourth law?"

Pay worship only the Shining Light, for it is from there we gain the flame.

"What is the fifth law?"

Honor your elders, for they were as you and you will be as they.

"What is the sixth law?"

Respect your juniors, for they are the future.

"What is the seventh law?"

Obey those above you, as you hope those below would obey you.

"What is the eighth law?"

Treat those below as you hope those above will treat you.

"What is the last law?"

The Emperor's will is the last law.

"For he is father of all, and lord of spirits. He is the master of the stars, judge of the strong and protector of the weak. By his word we are commanded and by his will are we sustained. For ten thousand years, the Dragon Throne has stood. For ten thousand years more, it will stand. Its master is first and last, protector and destroyer."

So it was, so it is. As it is, so will it be. For ten thousand years.

[Roania]

Ailin woke her senses, slowly. She had not used them recently, but they came to her service quickly. How simple the Hauyht were, when allowed to be.

No, that was unkind. They were not simple, as the fool is simple. But simple as the path was simple.

She had learned much, in her time among them. And always there was more to learn. She loved them, as any mother could love her children. Perhaps not the best analogy, but the one that came closest to her feelings, even if occasionally she did feel the urge to eat one of them, or the need to refresh her disguises. Now, events moved faster. She felt no personal danger; even if they discovered her (and she usually chose to dwell at the center of society), they could not touch her. She was their shadow and their light.

A bit proud, that, but why not? She slipped through the ranks of society, always young, always beautiful, always exemplifying those characteristics that were in style, in fashion, for Huayht women. Their machines did what she needed them to do in order to let her maintain her place. Eventually she would grow bored with the imposture and leave, but not today.

Not when there was work to do.

Recently, she had become a doctor. And she was a good doctor. What did life and death have to say to her, who played with both in the same hand? And she was a beautiful doctor, so lovely that she had not even needed to work particularly hard to convince them that she had all the authority she needed to call herself a doctor. Republic technology was not as hard as she had expected it to be, though the use of many of its more advanced iterations was uncomfortable, still. But now, it was time to do something else.

"I'm leaving, Duk'Ton." She smiled at the end of the day to her current boyfriend. "I leave the hospital in your capable hands."

"What? Milia, I'm nowhere near as skilled... I know you said you weren't planning on staying, but I'd hoped..."

She knew what he'd hoped. In her weaker moments, she'd hoped it too. But still, she walked around the edge of her desk, and placed her small hands upon his cheeks. "Shh. Let's not ruin this moment with hopes. I can give you one last gift." He opened his mouth, and she kissed him for the last time. When she felt his arms go around her, she leaned closer in and bit down on his lip, ever so slightly. One fang punctured her own lip at the same time. Her blood crossed his lips, and she gave him something of her strength and something more of her learned knowledge and more importantly a deep, dreamless sleep in which to permit it to settle.

Then she was gone.

++

Ailin hated this part. She had worked her way through it by trial and error; the price of leaving her master and then not returning to the Circle. She wondered if they still hunted her. Doubtless. They had forever. But it was a big galaxy.

Youth. Not a child's youth, but a woman's youth; The Huayht still praised age, in part, but age brought questions. No one would notice another girl. Well. No one would think twice about the sudden appearance of another girl. Her clothes changed, grew slighter, became less professional. Much less professional. Too much. Simple button shirt and jeans. Perhaps not the most common outfit among the Hauyht of Juniper, yet, but that wasn't... her essence flickered between thought and non-thought, and a new plan arose. Her prisoners whirled in her mind. Not too young. Not too old. But yes...

The outfit took shape, and she filled herself into it, from the strong boots to the prominent, but demurely concealed, bust, and from there to her two floppy ears. Floppy, but maybe a little kinked. Reality flowed back in around her, at the point at which she wanted, inconvenient facts like space and distance and time brushed away by the will of the Dragon, whose symbol she now wore as a tattoo around her eye. "I look good." She examined herself, to herself, from a foreign perspective, before resuming her place.

++

"It's like I told you." Fil'ean said, standing strong under the watching men. "When the kinks took our village, their friends took my mother and me. I don't know why they did or if they took the rest of my family." She almost spat on the floor. "Yeah, maybe there's a little kink in me, but I snapped it off at the hilt. When I wouldn't play nice with their little boy-king, he told me to get off his planet or he'd make me wish I had." Now Filean did spit, into a trash can sitting there, as if waiting for her. She did so cleanly. "Shipped around as a soldier's girl for a little bit, picked some of it up. Better than just sitting around farming all day." The amazon stood nearly as tall as some of the guards, and far more forthrightly. Her hands rested on her hips in the pose of someone more than ready to go for a weapon. "Found my way to... uhhh... can't pronounce these names. Well, no matter. They told me that I could find my people here, or someplace called 'Zee'. I heard we were still our own men here, so I figured I'd drop in, see if that were so." She ran a finger over the tattoo over her eye. "I ain't got no time for foreigners telling me what to do. But my people? Ask away."

[Roania]

"His Excellency the Grand Secretary." His mission complete, the guard stepped aside and returned to his post at the door.

"At ease, Ky Lorelle, this is not a formal meeting." Sieg had a tendency to sidle. No one could quite place it. Some believed it was the animals that lived in his heritage. He had a habit of entering a room so secretively and making himself at home before you even realized it.

Lorelle wasn't impressed. She hadn't even looked up from her breakfast. "You are here for a reason. Pull up a seat and tell me it, while I ponder whether to complain to the Emperor about this unwarranted visit." The scarred eye twitched with some anxiety, despite her confidence, and she turned towards her daughter to hide it from her superior. "What are you doing, daughter?! We have a guest! Pour him some juice. Have I taught you nothing?"

The small, dark-haired girl poured for her mother, and then smiled wickedly. "But mother, he said this was not a formal meeting!"

Lorelle lifted her fist and brought it lightly against the back of her daughter's head. The girl leaned back against it, her smile turning affectionate. "Such insolence. How will I find you a husband if you speak to me in that way? Go and find your father. Better he shame me in front of the Grand Secretary than you." The girl bowed to Sieg and took off running. "Now, what may I do for you?"

"I assume you know that the Emperor is concerned about events in the Dominion." Sieg drank his juice. "Very good."

"Yes, the orchard's are having a good harvest this year." Lorelle made a face. "My lackwit step-son has finally found a task he can accomplish without shaming his father." There was silence. In it, Sieg grabbed a rice bun and chewed at it thoughtfully. "Why are you here? I'm not sending ISI agents on your say-so, and I can't imagine the Lord has provided you with his." The kitsuite shrugged, ever so slightly. Lorelle's eyes narrowed. "You're not here for me."

"Sieg! This is an honor!" His Grace, the Ever-Fortuitous Duke, The Eternal Marshal of Prosperity, The Ever Intelligent and Efficient Marquis (and a few hundred more titles and honorariums) Zar Ramiel clapped his latest successor on the back. "An honor and a privilege. Enjoying the juice? Course you are. I've got the best orchards in the Empire. The. Best." Ramiel stepped to the table and kissed Lorelle so thoroughly that she forgot to be outraged by his presumption, and sat on the ground at right angles to both of them. "How's Min? Still keeping her pregnant? Knew that she'd enjoy it once she tried it. Didn't I say so, Wife? Now it seems like she can't stop!"

"Husband!" Lorelle managed to catch her breath and sent him a glare that could reduce strong men to weeping.

"Wife!" Ramiel replied, with equanimity. "What can I do for you, Sieg? Or what are you here to do for me?"

Sieg smiled through it. That was the only way to handle Ramiel. If you let yourself be outraged by his lack of propriety, you'd never stop. "It's not about me. It's..."

"Yes, yes, it's from the throne. We're all adults here, and I've been where you're sitting. Literally, sometimes, when Lorelle's in a mood!" This time the fist was not a gentle tap, though it was padded by the shoulder. "Truth is, our Lord and Master doesn't worry about much to do with your job, does he? Too busy playing toy soldiers with the banners and shouting at that poor boy of his." Ramiel produced a cigar from his robe and conjured a small flame atop his finger.

"The Lord is a very busy man. I see my role as a..." Sieg may as well not have opened his mouth.

"Of course he is." Ramiel blew a smoke ring into the air. "And of course you do. That's how it should be! But now, rumor has it he's got the dogs chasing you. If you'll pardon the expression. If there's one thing I know about our Emperor, it's that he wants everyone quiet as mice whose vocal chords have been removed." Without seeming to give it thought, he grabbed his wife's glass with his free hand and began to juggle it, not spilling even a drop of the rich nectar. "And now there's a lot of noise, and he doesn't understand it. And the thing about noise is, it spreads. Say people are shrieking about chasing the foreigners out in one place. Say they get what they want. Well, it's a free country, isn't it? Can't crack down on the flow of information like that. Well, what if that gets people to thinking here about the barbarians again? Especially those barbarians so abusive of their fellow barbarians. Especially if those barbarians lay a finger on a subject of the Dragon Throne. That would be deafening, wouldn't it. All that noise. That's the kind of thing that keeps Emperors up at night, it is."

"I wouldn't say in so many words..." Sieg tried once more.

"But of course we have people in place for this kind of contingency! But do we? Our ministers are competent people, but this isn't exactly a skillset Aleis hires them for. Sweet girl that she is. My wife says she's having hysterics." While his wife's glass was in the air, the Duke grabbed Sieg's glass. Now both were being juggled one handed.

"She's always having hysterics." Lorelle rolled her good eye. "Long as I've known her."

"Yes, think about that, darling." Ramiel grinned, then turned his attention back to Sieg. "No one wants an Emperor not to sleep at night. That's the kind of thing that leads to tears before morning, believe you me. So we want to keep the noise level down. Well, it's a bit late to tell the people fighting not to fight, not that they'd listen. And we can't tell the audience not to watch. Well, not without doing some things we don't much like. And our Lord, he gets a bit...cranky if he doesn't get his sleep. Quite rightly. Everyone needs their sleep. How long do I sleep, wife?"

"This is the longest you've been awake since our daughter started going to school."

Ramiel leaned back, puffing on his cigar. "Wonderful child, our Lisei. Just the best. The best and brightest. And the prettiest! She'll be looking for a husband soon, and if she takes after her mother..." The glasses landed in both his hands and he placed them back on the table. Not a drop had been spilled. "Where was I? Right. If the Emperor gets cranky, well, we all know what happens if the Emperor gets cranky. People die, is what happens. Let's not have people die. Let's help our Emperor sleep at night. Right? Is that why you're here?"

"I... I wouldn't say so in as many words..." SIeg said, his head spinning.

"Of course you wouldn't. You've still got that job to worry about." Ramiel stubbed the cigar out on the table, ignoring his wife's reprimand. "I'm out of harness, and I'm an old man. I can say whatever I want. Eh? It's got its moments. Wait till you're my age, young man." The former Grand Secretary put his hands together behind his head and stared down Sieg. "I can be in the Dominion in less than a week. Was thinking about it anyway. Want to pick up some tips for grapes. They say that our lands are too hot, but I think that's quitting talk. And I've got a book tour coming up. Why not start in the Dominion? Darling, get our guest a copy of my newest book. They're upstairs, in the back. Take your time."

Lorelle raised an eyebrow. She would have raised both, but... well, you know. When she got back down carrying a copy of said book, the two men were deep in conversation. Ordinarily, she would be offended, but come to think of it, she had the job she wanted at the moment. It suited her just fine. And her husband's antics were always more amusing as a surprise.

And if anything went horribly wrong, she and her child (and her idiot stepson, she supposed) would probably be better off not knowing.


Duke Zai Ramiel, whose 'Life and How to Win It' spent an unprecedented forty years on the Interstellar Best-Seller Lists and has been translated into three hundred languages, whose autobiography 'The Winner' has been adapted multiple times for stage, screen and holo-drama, and whose self-help seminars have touched the souls and changed the lives of billions... yes, that Ramiel... has done it again with 'Never Stop: Life After You've Won!'

Ramiel, whose rise from street rat to master of an interstellar Empire has been compared to a fairy tale, has long been retired from public life. When asked why he was stepping forward today, His Grace had this to say. "I think it's time. I've lived a long life, and as my readers know, I earned my happy ending. And you'd think that was it, right? I know I did. But life's not a race. It keeps going after you win. And how you deal with that is, I think, a challenge everyone, at every age, and every place should give some thought. You're either learning or you're dead, as my wife tells her officers."

And why start in Devras? "Well, statistically speaking, if you haven't read my books, you've heard of my books. And that's just a number's game, really. Sixth most popular book in the galaxy, last I checked. Anyway, I think it's important to emphasize the things we have in common, especially when there are those who are trying to drive us apart. My message can be important in times of trouble. Ambition, not for its own sake, but for the sake of our communities. We are at our best, all of us, when all of us are trying to be our best in our own way. Attacking people for not being you misses the point. How can you know how great you are if everyone is you?"

[Roania]

She didn't need to wear her badge of rank, of course. But she liked to. The chain drive, with its pinions each carved from jade and set in ruby, was a reminder of all she had accomplished. Li AiQien, Craftswoman of the Fifth Rank: Contriver and Machinist (Faninjuh hei Yiqixuh).

Yes, had she not been the Imperial Consort, perhaps she'd never have had the opportunity. But having had the opportunity, she had made the most of it, and learned on her own. Her clockwork starlings, that sang at a touch and flew in an orbit, had won her her third pinion. Her celestial clock, which tracked the movement of the stars on both Rudan Prime and on Thanh-Tonh, without reference to the crystals or to the orbital calculators, had earned her her most recent promotion and the right to style herself as Machinist.

But today was her greatest challenge. She was going to build a humanoid automaton. No one had tried. Not for hundreds of years, at least. And the old works were not informative. But she had had imported from the west the resources she thought she needed.

She only hoped she would not need reference to electricity or other such assistance. At her rank, and in her position, to do so would doubtless lead to loss of face for one who was not as well-connected, and even were her husband to protect her from the shame she would feel the dishonor personally.

[Roania]

Taba-Mono o Cankaekae. Coiwou zi Mijhuleri...

Consider the ogre.

The Onoro-Gaiku, the wool worms, of Dai-Yann. Great elephantine burrowers and carvers of caves in earth, stone and ice. To hunt them is to waste your time and ammo. Their size insulates them from predators. Their thick coat of coarsely woven fur, their dense layers of fat, protect them from the cold. The rapid putrefaction of their flesh and sheer stupidity make them undesirable trophies.

...

Huge, blundering creatures, ignorant of pain and fear, living as long as they live until their blundering takes them into natural danger or their body grows beyond its ability to sustain itself. Even as juveniles, they tower over the wilderness. They must. The boreal wastes of Dai-Yann are not friendly to life. The great wool worms of the far north, despite their size, subsist largely on lichen. In other climes, they subsist on the hardy plant life of mountain and taiga. It is a placid life. They do nothing but eat and grow and eat and grow. They can afford to do this. They have no choice but to do this. Food is scarce, and much of it ends up inside them. But starve a wool worm, and it will shrink in on itself, burning reserves of fat far more efficiently than it processed its food in the first place.

The great whales of the north. They have no natural enemies except the chance of nature.

And the ogres.

...

They insist that they have always lived on Dai-Yan.


Very dubious.

...

What is known is they were residing on the planet when the ancestors of the Yannaiho arrived, fleeing the collapse. Contact between the two races was at first limited, and later non-existent. The Yannaiho settled in the fertile riverlands and coastal plains, leaving the wastes to the spirits. The disappearance of travelers into these lands only reinforced the native disinterest.

Indeed, even as the Kingdom of Wo was built, foundered, and gloriously reunited with the glorious Empire, the ogres were an after-thought. A superstition, an abstract object of worship and fear. A ceremony had developed, similar to the propitiation of the spirits on Rudan itself. The King of Wo and his family would go to a great peak and before the lords of the land sacrifice to the Tsu-No-Oni, an offer of ox as thanks and hope for a fertile year. An ox was shoved off the cliff, and everyone was happy. Except the ox.

...

Until one year, the ogres actually turned up. Apparently, the semi-regular arrival of carrion had caught the attention of the local clan. Displaying their (some would say supernatural) gift for language, the ogres had overheard that the ritual was intended for his benefit. But there was, alas, a missed communication.

...

Ogres only eat from live prey. The sacrifice was disregarded. The last King of Wo and his family, and much of his court, disappeared down the gullets of their hungry gods. The survivors, fleeing back to the capital, brought word to the Imperial Governor.

What followed was the longest hostile deployment to an inner sphere world in Imperial History. The Daiqibi Emperor, whose daughter-in-law was now the sole remaining member of the Wo clan, led the banners in battle, high techno-sorcery against fang and claw. Battles were rare, but casualties were high. The beasts wove in and out of shadow and mist, seeming to slip silently between this world and another, eating commanders and wreaking heavy carnage behind the lines. Though ogres have little natural cohesion, they knew they were fighting for their existence, and so clan waged war in defense of clan. For every clan that was suppressed, the elite of the Banners paid a heavy price. And that price seemed only to grow higher as the promised days became weeks, and then weeks became months, and months became years, and the Emperor himself, thought safe in the fortress of Wo, was torn to shreds in the night.

In desperation, technology was laid aside and the Claws of the Dragon were bared.

This phase of the war lasted mere hours.

When it ended, so did the hostilities. The ogres, clan by clan, bent the knee to the new Emperor and to the newly elected Taikun, pledging peace in exchange for peace. The ogres returned to their mountains, the Yannaiho to their plains. And for two thousand years, little was heard of the ogres.

Until the flight of Lord Sempero led to the disgrace of the Salamanri of Rk, and the Present Emperor Upon the Throne (Ten Thousand Years to the Lord of Ten Thousand Years!) sent for several ...

...
And this takes us to the present.

But what do we know of these creatures? Too little. No one has ever seen a female ogre, or an ogre child. Their clanholds are inviolate, even though they walk among us on Rudan itself, and hold the confidence of the Throne.

A visit to these ...

overdue...

will travel to the mountain with...

The second half of this manuscript was never recovered, and local investigators have found no record of Honorable Doctor Yi's intended destination or travel companions.

[Roania]

- FADE IN -

Mother is hard at work preparing dinner when door is slammed open and we hear sobbing.

_Mother_

Why, daughter, whatever could be the matter?

Camera pans to Before Girl, who drops her bag on the ground. When she does, the whole house shakes. Bag spills open to reveal trophies and sporting paraphernalia. Be creative, set design.

_Before Girl_

Oh, mother! I won all these awards at sports day, but the other girls laughed at me.

Note: Add huskiness to voice in editing.. When she moves her arm, we need to see those unsightly muscles bulge, and highlight how dark her skin is.

_Mother_

They laughed at you? Why, whatever for?

_Before Girl_

Because now none of the boys will ask me to the dance! And Handsome Chang told me that I am barely a woman at all! I have ruined myself for marriage.

Before Girl cries. Very messily. Shows lack of restraint and grace.

_Before Girl_

Why did I ever take part in sports? I should have listened to you and father. Now I have shamed you, and father will never find me a good husband, and I will have to be a spinster!

_Mother_

Shhh, shhh,, shhh, daughter. It is well. We girls have a secret from the boys. All you have to do is take these two pills and go to bed, and I promise everything will look better in the morning.

Mother reaches into her purse and draws out the STARBRIGHT. Music swells to crescendo. Before_Girl gasps, takes the pills, and runs up the stairs

--cut to v/o--

Only Mao Hua Cosmetics' STARBRIGHT promise, and deliver, such excellent results. Confound your rivals and amaze the boys as our proprietary blend works its magic overnight. That's STARBRIGHT, available wherever cosmetics are sold. Ask for it by name, because only STARBRIGHT can make your skin as white as starlight!

--cut to morning--

_Father_

Is that my daughter?

Father has dropped his glasses in his pudding as AFTER_GIRL walks down the stairs.

_After_Girl_

Good morning, honorable father. Did mother show you my trophies?

Put AFTER_GIRL in clothes whose shoulder size is too large. Shoot from minimizing angles for every shot, except for the bust shot, which should show that her weight has 'shifted'. Make sure she glows.

AFTER_GIRL tries to pick up her bag from yesterday, and fails.

Mother laughs

_Mother_

I don't think you need to worry about those any more, daughter. Come have breakfast and tell father and I about this Handsome Chang you want to take you to the dance.

AFTER_GIRL smiles, and forgets all about the trophies, which her father throws out as he leaves.

Later, she is seen dancing with the boys of the class, while the other girls are barely noticed

_Jealous_Girl 1_

How did she do it? She was so ugly!

_Jealous_Girl 2_

Maybe it was her ancestors.

_Handsome Chang_, wearing football jersey with name

I am sorry for what I said before. Will you be my partner?

After_Girl

What? I'm sorry, I'm just not interested in a little boy like you anymore. The upper class prefect just asked me to his house.

She spills punch at him and walks off arm in arm with the prefect. Everyone laughs at Chang

--cut to V/O--

Be the woman you deserve to be. STARBRIGHT, by Mao Hua. Make Your Skin White As Starlight.

[Roania]

"You ever think about getting one of those, Corporal?" Patrolman Pun Chun Kit pointed out the window and into the passing crowd. "Seeing a lot more of it since news of the wedding over on the island." He indicated a teenage girl, walking with the first wiggle of self-consciousness. She would be a rare beauty on her coming of age, that was for sure. Pale, proud flesh fought for freedom from a robe perhaps two sizes too tight around the chest. She was accompanying an older matron, who would occasionally take the time to slap her hand away from herself. For all the world, she seemed as though she was surprised to find them. Pun wanted to shout out the window at her that tits like that don't grow overnight.

"Eyes straight, watchman. Don't go looking at the private citizens like that. Especially the girls." Corporal Qian Yu didn't look up for more than a second. "The last thing I need is a report to Central. This is going to be the year I make Captain, and I won't have you ruining that by getting in trouble under my observation." This was, of course, incorrect. Corporal Qian Yu would not be making it to Captain this year, owing to a still-to-come incident involving a crate of imported New Dornalian steaks released under the New Chicagoan Casimir Cattle brand, a poorly written warrant, and some surplus fireworks. But that was all in the (not-too-distant) future. "Besides, don't you have one? Two, unless that was someone else on the comms with you this morning. Wasn't your wife."

"My sister." Pun sulked a little.

"Mmmm. Well, I'll leave it to the procurator to judge." Qian picked up his paper and directed his attention back to it.

"I was talking about her tail. Have you ever thought of having a tail?"

"On my salary?" The Corporal barked a laugh, folding the paper over. "Getting that done properly costs thousands of ces, Pun. It's for the likes of them that have the money to waste, like everything fancy."

"What? No way. My niece works in a Qen Center, and she tells me they're selling packages for five hundred ces. I bet soon we'll be talking wen soon." Pun grabbed a sticky bun and bit through it. "I think it'd be nice, you know? People look at you differently if you have one."

"Mm." Qian shook his head. "Not for the likes of us. And who needs that? Kids who want to impress people. Her mother had a nice ass, and no tail. That's enough, I reckon." He skimmed down the page. "Rudan took the game last night. Did you catch it? I was working on my speech at central."

"Nah, maybe when our boys go up against Jeok, but not for a game against some colonials." Pun put his feet up. "My wife was thinking of getting a tail, and some ears. I told her if she wanted to get anything done, she should fix that mole on her left tit. It's been bothering me since we married." He laughed remorsefully. "She told me that I should go in for a new personality, and threatened to give me one." Pun leaned forward, looking out the window. "...seeing a lot of kids with tails these days. And some older folks. And I swear, this morning, Station Manager Jin had whiskers."

"Station Manager Jin has always had whiskers." Qian turned the page. "Now, when Commander Fuzzbutt or Watchman One-Ear come to work without whiskers, let me know." As of yet, of course, Pun did not know that Commander Nmmr would be explaining to a very upset merchant that Corporal Qian had done the best he could with the information available, and of course there would be an investigation as to why Corporal Qian had three cases of fireworks inside his car, marked as 'water'.

"Yeah, but these were nearly a foot long!"

"Mmm..." Qian was elsewhere, now, thinking of his coming promotion, and all the things he would buy with his new salary. Maybe he would get ears and a tail. But not a cat. No, he would pick something more exciting. And get something for his wife, too. Show her he was a big man. Maybe get some quiet in life... or maybe he'd get something for his girlfriend. She already had a tail. Mm. He did not, as yet, realize that he would soon be arresting his girlfriend in an illicit firearm smuggling scheme, or that his wife would find out about his girlfriend when she loudly demanded, on tv no less, that he come help her out of this mess.

"Now that's a nice tail. And that's not too shabby, either, what it's connected to." Pun whistled, long and low. He did not realize that when the resulting investigation implicated Corporal Qian, and he lost his badge for conduct unbecoming an officer, that they would be saluting Corporal Pun Chun Kit. That this would be the beginning of a chain of events that would ultimately lead to him being named as Governor of the Imperial Prefecture, and a glorious death in peace in bed, surrounded by five generations of his family. "Come on, sweetheart, turn this way... let's see what you're smuggling under that dress..."

"Really, Officer Pun." Qian threw his paper down and looked up. "You are so... what is she doing here?" He knew that tail. And what it was attached to. His girlfriend was making her way through the market, swiftly, pushing people aside so that she could make an escape. Qian threw his newspaper to the ground and pushed Pun himself aside to get to the door. He did not realize that this would that would lead to him, in six weeks, reporting once more to basic watch training. This time, as the young, furry-eared and tailed, and very female Qian Rilis. Or that that would be the beginning of the chain of events that would lead to him being married to up-and-coming Watchman Lee Jun-Fan and having several children, one of whom would be the first woman ever to serve in the Imperial Guard.

But even if they had a hint of their futures, there wouldn't be time to consider them. The communicator went off, and the Commander's voice was loud. "Officer needs assistance at the SM Kharkova Warehouse on Seventh and Rose!" For the time being, they were both watchmen, and when they heard that, they sprang into action. And that was the moment three lives changed. Who was the other life? Well... we'll come to that in a moment.

[Roania]

"Honestly, daughter, can you not keep your hands off yourself for five minutes?" Zin Aili once again slapped her child hands away from her breast. She had taken the day off of work to help her child find new clothes, and it did not seem too much to ask for the girl to behave herself. "What will the boys think?"

"But... mother..." All of this seemed very unfair to Lu Chaokun, who until a few days ago had merely been Lu Chao. He had done as the medicine had instructed, in the sure hope that he would become the strongest and mightiest of men. How was he to know they were female supplements? That on Fifth Day he would be too ill to take himself to class. On Sixth Day, his fevered dreams had been filled with fantasies of men and women... and he had not noticed when his role in those dreams began to shift, any more than he noticed that his body had begun, first to bud, then to blossom. All he knew was the pleasure of changing, and so he changed, had willed himself to change, until for the first time a loud, piercing female cry filled his room, and his parents came in to find their son writhing, and moaning, and gloriously, beautifully female. "They're..." He searched for the word. "Heavy. And painful"

"They're not that big, young lady. If you didn't run, you'd not have as many trouble. Walk slower. Use that tail of yours to time your steps. Give the boys something else to stare at, hmm?" And for good measure, she pinched the girl's tufted ear. " You should have thought of that before you decided to change yourself."

"But mother..." Lu Chaokun paused. He'd tried to explain, and they had believed him, for what that was worth; his father had even gone to the apothecary, but the Watch had said she had done nothing wrong, and his father had come home and, if Chao had still been a boy, probably would have beaten him even for going there... and they'd gone yesterday to a doctor, who'd examined him (in very embarrassing and very uncomfortable ways), and said that it would take at least a year before they could make him him again safely, and... and he... and he.... he was finding it hard to refer to himself in that way.

It was hard to think of himself as a man, not when every careful step now sent her hips swaying, with her beautiful, sleek tail acting like a pendulum... not when, even with him trying to walk like she saw her mother, like she saw the girls... the other girls walking, her unsupported chest still bounced... when she could feel a hundred eyes on her, and more and more coming in, and some of them were real boys, still, and she suddenly felt embarrassed not just over how improper her clothing was, but also how they looked at her... how they admired her. And embarrassment was tinged with pride.

Her mother said nothing, though she noticed. Her son had always liked the idea of being with girls. Oh, she had never really had time for that kind of thing; not as bad as his brothers certainly, but... well, she was busier, these days. But now that Chaokun was a young woman, all curves and blushes and smiles... well... she still liked the idea of boys being with girls...but obviously her daughter was taking to her new place in that environment. "In here, Chaokun." It had taken some time to find a clothier that would not know the Lu Clan, even within the limits of those catering to a younger, and increasingly 'fuzzly' (as the slang term from Solont put it), generation. The Lu, of which the branch she married into was not even the most prominent (but sadly, far from the least) was well known in their township, and all too many remembered her husband advertising a fourth son.

By chance, though, one of her old school friends had mentioned the week before that her children often went to a stall in the Imperial Palace Market. And it was to this stall that she had now arrived.

The next fifteen minutes passed in a daze for poor Lu Chaokun, who found herself stripped from her comforting male clothes ("We'll dispose of these for no charge, Mistress Lu", she thought she heard the old woman running the stall say), then stood up against a wooden board and measured ("167. A good height for a lovely young lady.") in every way ("74. You probably drew a lot of attention on the way here, didn't you.") with a cold ("Let's start her off with a Jade. Oh, don't worry, young miss, that's more than adequate at your age.") tape measure. ("66, and 85... no, with the altered line, not the slot. Boys tend to appreciate the tail-slot a lot more than girls do... in both directions."). By the time her measurements were over, Chaokun was confused, embarrassed, and dressed in what felt like less clothing than she had ever worn in her life. "Is... is this okay?"

"Not unless you're putting on a show for a boyfriend!" The old lady turned to her mother, who had been sitting and reading. "What do you think? Satisfied, Mistress Lu?"

"Oh, she looks lovely! Chaokun, you're going to be so beautiful when you grow up." Lu Chaokun's head spun. Lovely? Her? She... she had kind of guessed, but... Where was the mirror? Seeing her expression, her mother laughed. "You'll have all night to get used to taking off and putting on these, and all night to see how you look in them. Just relax and let them work on you."

And back into the frenzy of activity, with her mother and the proprietor running through more clothing, naming them, explaining them. At some point, someone had taken the hair braid out, and she felt yet more hair fall down her slender shoulders, as the proprietor instructed her in the mystical art of tying it like she would, from now on.

"What do you think you'd like her to walk out with, Mistress Lu?"

Zin Aili gave a look around. 'It is a nice day out. Let's put her in the summer dress, and then she can go out while we talk about finishing her wardrobe. Would you like that, daughter?" And perhaps Chaokun would have. Except then there was a massive explosion, and a heavy shockwave, and Chaokun was sent tumbling, out into the main stall, and into the arms of... of a boy.

To Be Continued.

[Roania]

The arms that caught Chaokun were strong, if gentle, and she was grateful for that. Unashamed to hide her face, she buried herself in the boy's chest as the world shook around them, letting him do the hard work of supporting her for as long as he was willing. Around her, she could hear the screams as the explosions continued, drowning out at times even the sirens of the incoming watch. "This can't be happening... this can't be happening... I've never even been kissed!" She muttered. The response was a little chuckle that she felt from her head to her feet, and the gentle placement of a hand at the base of her skull, cradling her against him closer. Without thinking, she lost herself in the security he offered. And for a moment, two moments, even the noise beyond was lost to her. It felt good, when she let it. He was protecting her, whoever he was... and he was protecting her as a man should protect his woman. Not that she needed the protection. It was just the shock. She wasn't that kind of girl. Not any kind of girl, really... but if he wanted to protect her, then...

"Lu Chaokun! Oh, thank the spirits." She felt her mother's hand on her shoulder. "I thought there might have been an earthquake, and you may have fallen into the river, or... well, thank you, elder sister. And thank you, young man."

In the distance, the emergency response teams appeared to have begun their work, and the earth ceased its shaking. But Chaokun had no ear for that. An older woman was speaking to her mother, but she paid her no heed. For the first time in her new life, someone had reached up and was scratching behind her ears. She found herself purring, and bucked her head up against the head, hoping for further attention. That older woman said something, and the boy holding her lowered his hand away to her regret. "Sorry, girl. They were just..." That voice was unfamiliar, but it was deep and richly resonant with possibilities, and she momentarily wondered what else he could do to her body to make it purr.

That thought hit some core within what was left of Chao, and she pulled herself away from him, then realized that that gave him a better look than he'd had while she was attached to him, and immediately ducked behind her mother, face bright red. "I... It.. it's okay. Thank you for helping me, honorable sir." The formal, feminine terms tasted a bit sour on his her lips as she peered around her mother to thank him.

"I think I've been thanked enough today." And she couldn't help herself but giggle when he winked, and that giggle led to a smile that made her cheeks turn even redder.

He was cute. She'd always listened to girls describe boys as cute, and wondered what could be done to get them to refer to her... him that way. But from this angle, looking up, as it were, she understood as she never had before. That was the broad, powerful chest that had sheltered her, and there were the arms that had held her so safely, and that face... striking golden hair, shining in the remaining light of day, above golden eyes that were examining her as she examined him... golden pools she felt she could get lost in, if she didn't pull herself back.

The woman he was with coughed, and Chaokun turned to her. She was... obviously his mother, and the thought made her strangely glad. She was an older woman with something of an aristocratic leaning, and sharp ears whose points jutted out, rather than in, like her own mothers. "My son has a point. Especially as he was so enjoying the situation, weren't you, number two son?" He turned slightly pink now, which Chaokun found adorable. "But I will handle introductions, young miss, for now. Please, do not let me keep you from dressing."

Chaokun swallowed and nodded, then darted back inside, her heart beating and her body still feeling... wanting?


To Be Continued later

[Roania]

It felt.. good, Chaokun decided. It all felt good. It felt good to be standing here, next to her mother, as she had been taught by television to stand, arms in front of her, protecting herself but also putting herself on show. It felt good, that he kept staring at her, that his gaze kept wandering from and to her face, as though she was a work of art that he wanted to display in a gallery. It felt good (and a little scary), when his expression changed (usually while their mothers weren't looking) and he looked at her as though she was a girl... a woman, and one that he wanted to see more of. To see on display personally.

Her mother elbowed her, sharply, and Chaokun realized with a start that she was meant to be bowing. Her first instinct was to bring fist to palm and bow from the head, but instinct and half-remembered protocol classes changed her movements. Hand cupped hand, and both rested at her abdomen... above her womb, where someday she may have a child (the thought was unprompted and unwanted, but the way he had glanced at her hands as she bowed had brought it to his mind. [And another voice, deeper and more powerful, told her it was not 'may', but 'will'])...and she bowed at the waist.

"Honourable Lady, this person of no great worth is Aili, once of the Zin clan, which is scarcely worthy of your attention. My husband is the never-to-be sufficiently praised Lu Guan, who is only a petty official of no account but who has been more than kind to this lamentable and ugly woman." Chaokun's face flamed. Oh, light, mothers were so embarrassingly old-fashioned! The boy winked at her, which didn't help, so she turned her head to look demurely downwards, just to avoid looking at him.

His mother bowed, now. "Madame Zin. I am Llirla, once of House Drakharn, and Mistress of House Sun. My husband..." Llirla's voice faltered. "Sun Shifu... has gone to where I will someday follow. He was good to me, and loyal to the Dragon Throne." Chaokun almost lost her composure. The boy (whose expression had now turned somewhat grave, but did not lose any of its attractiveness) was of House Sun? The Princes of the West? ...no, if she was the mistress of the house, and he was her son, then he... she barely registered her mother saying the words of comfort, though she did remember to repeat them.

It was her turn to introduce herself. "I... I..." The formal words slipped from her grasp multiple times. It wasn't even that the boy was that important. Well... she meant... he could be important. Princes had all sorts of opportunities open to them... opportunities that she'd never even dreamed of... and now he was looking at her, and smiling again, just at hearing her voice, maybe... (not that she cared). She managed her own smile. "I am Chaokun, daughter of the Lu clan. It is an honor to stand before you." The girl bowed, perhaps deeper than propriety demanded, especially in that loose fitting top. Her mother tsked.

And then he bowed to her. His fist met his palm with a solid slap, revealing the strength inside his arms, and he lowered his head. "I am Sun Shizixin. I have the duty of serving the Dragon Throne as Prince of the West." And then he laughed. "And I liked your first introduction better, Luohua." Perhaps she should have been insulted. Llirla said something, sharpish, in a language she didn't understand and her mother muttered something under her breath. Within a moment of that nickname slipping from his lips, his own cheeks had turned red. Yes, she should have been offended.

But... but... 'She had fallen into his arms... and if he thought she was...' "...This little blossom is grateful that you were there to catch her when she fell, Xiaoni." Now her mother tsked again, something about 'the younger generation', and Llirla brought her hand to her mouth. Possibly to cover a smile? Chaokun hoped it was to cover a smile.

Shizixin' stopped blushing, and smiled again. Wide and welcoming and warm and happy. It brought a smile to her own lips, and a warmth that started deep within her and spread to fill the confines of her soul. It was as if their mothers weren't there for him, and it quickly felt that way for her, too. "This little lion considered it a pleasure and a duty. Should she feel the wind again, he would be honored to assist her once more." He took a step closer, now. "But he does see that the blossom still shakes a little in the breeze, and he would consider it an obligation to help finish steadying her." And he offered his hand. "Things have quieted down. Our honorable mothers both have business at the store. It is our responsibility as children to not be in their way. Why don't we go for a walk, Luohua?"

Her breath caught in her throat. He was asking her to go with him. Alone. The Prince of the West was asking her out for a walk. A boy was asking her on a date. Like she was a girl. Xiaoni, and the nickname came to her so easily she didn't even think on it, had asked her...she waited a moment, waiting for her old self to come veering up and demand she told him off, remind her that she was a man. But there was nothing, only the rapid beat of her heart beneath her breast, the heat of her cheeks, the increasing tightness of her blouse, the way her tail was coiled around her leg... and that warmth at her core that was becoming an inferno, burning all she had been away. she was aware, now. No, she was not a boy. She was a girl, right now. He was a boy.

"Be back here before first watch." Llirla said, ending her thoughts. "And mind yourself, number two son. Mistress Lu and I do have business at this store, and it would no doubt be easier with you elsewhere."

Chaokun looked to her mother, expecting her to disagree, but the older woman was only watching her. Thinking. "...have fun, daughter, but mind yourself. And him. You know how boys can get when there's a pretty girl around. You have to be responsible."

That was good enough for the young woman. With a shy smile, and a blush that traveled down to her cleavage, she took his hand. And then they went off.

[Roania]

Not that they got too far. Once they were out of their mothers' sight and on the promenade, looking out over the river valley and at the massive walls of the imperial palace, he stopped and looked at her, his hand still holding hers. "I'm Sun Shizixin. I'm in my ninth year at the Academy. I'm studying history, and going into Internal Harmony if my exams go well enough. My team is Beichang FC."

"I'm Lu Chaokun. I..." She shook her head. "I'm moving schools, and I don't know where I'll be come Autumn. I'm also in my ninth year. I'm studying poetry and the classics." That had been what they decided. She needed to go through the formal lessons for her girls, and her parents and the doctors had decided she was now going to be two years younger than she had been as a boy. The Secretariat had obliged. "But my team is Xibu-Sheng FC."

"Would you convert?" He asked, with absolute perfect seriousness. "Right now?"

"Not even if you married me, Xiaoni. Would you?" She stuck her tongue out.

"Depends on what you're offering as an inducement, Luohua." He did the same. It was so ridiculous they both started laughing, leaning against the wall. Their laughter startled the river gulls and the remaining merchants. The gulls flew off downstream, but the merchants only took it as a sign that they shouldn't pack it in, laughter being a sign that the Spirit of Fortune is nearby.

But for the two of them, laughter was laughter. Tension clearing, pleasurable. She was a girl, and he was a boy, but when they were talking about football, that didn't matter as much. Not that Chaokun wasn't aware of the difference in their sexes. And not that he wasn't, either. Their conversation had a very different tone to what Chaokun remembered of her own conversations with her old friends. He was gentler, less coarse, but also much firmer in his opinions. Oh, she knew he was thinking of various expletives at times. And she once or twice saw his mouth form around the words before he thought better of it (his mouth was absorbing a lot of her attention).

But he was pleased she knew the game. Most Rudanese knew a little, whatever their sex, race or species, but it seemed he'd rarely run across a girl like her (the way he said it made it clear it was a compliment, if phrased badly, and so she let it go with only a mild frown. She was learning quickly) who was as passionate as she was. He played, something Chao had never really done. She didn't think it sounded like he was very good, but he was definitely enthusiastic, and once she got past the part that most of the people he played alongside were wealthy, rich noble children or future mandarins or banner brats, it was easy to be swept up in his stories.

And then, suddenly, there was a period of silence between them. He had stopped talking, and she had nothing to say, and they just stood there, looking at each other. His face was flushed with excitement, and she knew hers was as well. He was... well, if he was a dog, he'd be wagging his tail. She may have been a cat, but she liked the idea of him being a big happy dog, and the tip of her own tail began to twitch.

A minute passed, two. And then he kissed her. Or she kissed him. They had both moved in at the same time. Once again, she found herself in his arms. This time, though, he wasn't protecting her. Another set of instincts were at play entirely, and as she pressed her breasts against his chest and her claws drew and dug (ever so gently) into his robe, one of his hands went to her waist and around it, playing almost at touching her ass but not quite. His other went to one of her ears, and he began to scratch it, drawing a deep rumble from within her throat.

But the kiss was the main thing. Chao had kissed a girl before. Once. She hadn't complained. But this was Chaokun's first time being kissed, and the little lion was much better than her old self had been. Shizixin's tongue occasionally darted out, drawing hers to match it, but he pushed it back into her mouth and claimed dominance. And she loved it. Her body was on fire in his arms, and he wasn't that far off.

Eventually, though, they either had to break the kiss or escalate. Reluctantly, he backed off. "I should apologize, Luohua." he reached up and touched her cheek, his finger leaving a trail of fire along her skin. "We've just met. We were having fun, and..."

"...don't apologize, Xiaoni." Her cheeks were bright red, but she didn't think she'd ever smiled so widely. "Buy me lunch, instead."

He grinned, once more. "And that way we're even?"

"That way you're holding up your end of the bargain." She stuck her tongue out once more.

[Roania]

It was amazing, how quickly things changed, and how little they had changed when they were finished. First, Chaokun had lost all interest in turning back, finally announcing to her parents that she would remain a woman for her life. Second, while there was no denying that her initial transformation was unwanted, unlooked for and unwilling, now it was framed as the responsibility of the spirits of love and fortune, who had seen a sad and lonely boy to blossom into a beautiful and lovely young woman.

Her father certainly took to this interpretation. Within a day of learning about her new feelings, an announcement had gone out, announcing the birth of his new daughter. It had led to some stares as she walked down the street in her girl’s clothing, her friends and classmates staring in shock (and, in some cases, undisguised lust and envy), but by the end of the week it had passed. Her new position, as a young miss amongst the other young misses, was accepted by boys and girls alike. What concerned her, and her parents, more was how unprepared she was.

Much of what a girl took for granted, Chaokun did not know. Some of it came to her instinctively, but the rest was new information, and there was quite a lot of it. When school began again in the Autumn, they had planned for her to enter the 9th year, as befit her current physical and emotional development as a woman. But attending the District school, where all her classmates would be resuming their 11th year, and where her teachers would have known her as a boy…

She didn’t mind going back two years. Really, she didn’t. Her nightly lessons with her mother and her weekly reviews of the material were helping her catch up to her peers, her new peers. So was he.

Xiaoni was a comfort (and a thrill to her parents. A child of theirs, catching the eye of a prince?). Her little lion would come to the district and walk with her, go shopping with her, make her feel the princess, and remind her how happy she was this had happened to her. With his lips and feelings and growing love he taught her more about who she now was than any lesson. She was his girl. And that didn’t mean she was going to just become part of him, or that was all there was to her, but it did mean that her spirit and mind developed quickly in a way they both wanted.

But Sun Shizixin couldn’t help his Yahua (she was no longer falling, he had told her, but blossoming, rising towards the sun, a name she loved all the more for its sheer corniness) in every way. And as the summer wound on towards midsummer, and her old friends grew more and more distant, or more and more unwantedly familiar (her prince wasn’t always around, and plenty of local boys thought their earlier acquaintanceship should give them some rights), Lu Chaokun grew more and more concerned.

Ultimately, she wanted to move schools. Ideally, move districts altogether. But her father’s transfer was stalled, and her mother couldn’t afford to leave, and everyone told her that transferring in the middle of the year was impossible, and maybe by Spring she’d be happy again.

Until after another night of fending off advances (had she ever been so dumb? Perhaps. Sun Shizixin could be, especially when she wore her lighter dresses and let the sun catch her just so) and her old friend had grabbed her while they were talking, and everyone had said it was her fault for standing and talking that way, that she was inviting the attention of the older boys by socializing like that… any girl her age should know better…

Well, charges were threatened, and filed. But that didn’t help matters. Her friends, her former friends, all took his side, and said… well, it didn’t matter. From the day her attacker was released by his father the magistrate to midsummer, Lu Chaokun hid in her family compound and would not leave, refusing even to see her boyfriend.

She’d have stayed in on midsummer, but lions can be persistent.

====

“I can’t believe I had to drag you out.” He didn’t so much speak the words, as he thought it. She heard the words and felt them, a concerned hand on her soul at the same time as his arms held her. “It’s midsummer. Every boy who has a girl is with his girl today, and I wasn’t going to miss out.” It was true; they were not even the only couple here, even as early as it was.

She said nothing. Her tail and ears, though, spoke volumes. While she was far from the only fuzzly there, she was the only cat whose tail was thrashing from side to side.

“Are you still angry?”

Her answer was more silence. Her ears had fitted back to her head.

“Look, I know you said you didn’t want to see me, but you did come with us.” Of course, he expected her elbow. He took it anyway. “I thought you might appreciate a grand gesture…”

She rolled her eyes, but did allow herself to soften. His ‘grand gesture’ had involved his family’s gravcar arriving at her family compound before first hour, blaring her favorite song, driven by felinoids, and accompanied by a quartet of actual Imperial Guards. Not that the Guard was too rare a sight, here in the Imperial Prefecture, but these were in uniform, with weapons.

“You couldn’t expect me to do nothing. Especially when you hid.”

Her answer was a snort. After they’d woken the entire district, he and his mother had swept into her compound, let in by her forewarned mother. A minute later, she’d found herself in the lightest, floweriest blouse and skirt she had (“Oh, you can put on your bandeau in the car”, thank you, mother, as a matter of fact she’d held it in front of her until they landed, then changed behind a tree; ) and been swept into his arms, then into the car. His mother, and the Guardsmen, had stayed behind. Apparently, certain parties took issue with the idea of ‘boys being boys’ being an excuse.

“I love you.” These words weren’t said, but she felt them, and they struck an answering chord inside her soul.

“I love you too.” She looked up at him for the first time that day and kissed his cheek, then let her lips linger on the stubble of his chin. And that was that. She did love him. Her flesh on his flesh, her soul with his soul, burned with the certainty of that, and of his love for her. “But a growing girl needs her sleep.” Now, she felt her tail resume its lazier circles, and her ears relax.

“If I let you get any more beauty sleep, you’d leave me for a better-looking man.” His hand intertwined with one of hers while the other brought her chin up. Now he kissed her, and she wondered how she had lasted for even a day without that feeling.

He wanted to talk about it. She knew it. He was worried, scared, afraid that it would change something, change her mind, change her from being his girl. But nothing could do that; her identity was set in stone. Her anger, her outrage, had not merely been on her behalf (though she had certainly been furious and embarrassed enough on that score), but also on his. Lu Chaokun’s body was female, and it was hers, first and foremost; but as it was hers, it was hers to share with the person of her choice; this person of her choice. “These buds blossomed ((OOC:Yahua)) only for you, Xiaoni,” and as she said this, she took his hand and gently touched it to her breast, letting him erase any thoughts of the previous encounter. “And they are glad to have done so.”

Sun Shizixin’s cheeks turned red, but only briefly. He let her go, but only to slip his arm around her and settle them both more comfortably on the towel. When his hand found her breast a second time, she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, letting her tail tap against his back.

Lu Chaokun… felt, in that moment. She felt, first, the rising dawn. This would be the longest day of the year, and she was, yes, glad she would spend it with him. Even if he had made a big show about collecting her.

She felt, as well, him. The presence of him. His size and growing strength, the boy she already loved and the man he was becoming, contrasted with the girl she had become, the girl he loved, and the woman she was growing into, his woman. These quiet interludes, these moments of contact, had been rare since their first meeting. Xiaoni always wanted to be doing things, and Yahua wanted to be doing them with him. Games or movies or walks… dates, adventures, things their mothers suggested to keep her from her worries. And, she suspected, to keep them from fooling around. In her past life, Chao's father had had given him one perfunctory talk, reinforced by Chao’s brothers. In this life, Chaokun’s mother had been much more thorough. With notes and a slide presentation and a quiz; she had found it humiliating, until she realized halfway through that her mother genuinely worried she might wind up pregnant, and so did his mother, and so, maybe, did he, and that this was her life now… and they all wanted better for her. And so did she.

But now they were alone, together, in a sea of people similarly alone together. She was aware of his heartbeat, fast and strong, seeming to drum in time with hers as she instinctively pressed her young body into him. She was aware, too, of her own heartbeat, and of the soft purr she had developed since her transformation. And she was aware of his hand on her breast, in a way she had never thought she would be; he held her like, she imagined, he would one day hold their children; gentle, supportive, as though he could not believe it was real… but then he would forget himself and squeeze, and the heat would rise and her purr would intensify, and he would remember their place and loosen his grip.

“You’re missing the dawn.” He whispered in her ear, gently kissing its tufted tip. “I know you’re awake, the least you could do is open your eyes. You’re such a cat sometimes.” His hand released her breast, and he pulled her up gently.

She grinned her toothiest smile and stretched up, and up, and out, thrusting her chest forward and her tail back, garnering some looks. But she didn’t care about the boys, or the other girls. She cared about Shizixin, and she knew she had his full attention as she stepped back against him. “I figured you’d remind me.”

They had never been here before, either of them, but he had read the book and explained on the way. Twice. And again, as she was changing behind the tree, just to make sure. As the sun crested the barrier cliffs, his arms went back around her. His left hand landed on her right hip, and his right hand on her left hip, and he pulled her back. At the same time, she lifted her arms up towards the sky, stretching her fingers out and thrusting her breasts out, wanting to catch as much of the sun’s blessing on her as possible. (Though not too far; she noted, with disapproval, that some of the girls had actually lost their tops to their boyfriends, and she was relieved that while his hand bunched into the fabric, he showed no inclination to follow suit. That kind of celebration was best left in private. And she giggled, inwardly; three months ago, her previous self would have fully approved. How things change…)

“Thank you, father of spirits, for these blessings.” She held her hands up, then slowly began to trace them back down. “For the love of my mother for my father, I thank you. And for my ancestors, who met and united that they may unite, that I may stand here,” She reached her head. There was, of course, no scripture past this point. Those who came here could speak their own words, or no words.

Oh, everyone said their prayers and thanks at midsummer; the longest day, set within the heat of Bae Hui’s blazing summer, her passion for unchecked growth… children belonged to the spring, but women, oh, they belonged to the summer...

But come here? It was an old tradition, but not so old as to be forgotten; the shrine to the fallen lovers (which they would visit, and she would pay especial honor to the Drowned Maiden), who had thrown themselves into the sea so they would not be separated by either marriage or the flames had been built within the present dynasty. Young lovers, pledging themselves as such, were believed to ease the suffering of the drowned in winter’s forge... but Lu Chaokun was not merely interested in the local spirits.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her hands moving down her body, glorying as the heat of the sun met the heat of her heart and the furnace of the boy, the man, holding her as though she was his, which she was. “Thank you for making me female.” The words tumbled out. Her hands cupped her chest, her beautiful breasts, the first and most glorious proof of her womanhood. “Thank you.” Down her waist, over his embracing arms. “Thank you…” To her hips, running gently along the tensed lines of his fingers. “Thank you…” To her abdomen and below, thoughts not merely of sex but of children… her ancestors had done this to her, the spirits had done this to her, not merely for herself, but so she might help rebuild an ancient house, she believed, (even if her boyfriend still thought it was coincidence, she knew better). Back to the recommended text. “I stand here as a girl, growing into a woman.”

“And I stand here as a boy, growing into a man.” He spoke, now, and his hands tightened on her as her arms reached up and behind her to clasp around his neck and her tail circled one of his legs. “We ask for your blessing, spirits of summer and sunshine, of growth and fecundity. That our love will grow as we grow.”


“As a boy becomes a man.” / “As a girl becomes a woman.”

“As a man becomes a father.” / “As a woman becomes a mother.”

As the ritual ended, the words spoken, Chaokun noted the other attendees.

A young boy stood with his arms around a girl experiencing the first wiggle of female self-consciousness, a girl that stood taller than her companion. Their smocks concealed their bodies, so only the hair told the difference between their sexes. But they both had expressions of intense concentration, any humor she may have felt fading at how serious they were. There was a story there, but it was not hers to ask.

Other young adults stood, some awkward and embarrassed, others not aware of any people except each other. Several older couples were also out, evidently having taken the time to come and renew either betrothals or wedding vows.

“Did you see…” Shizixin had released her, and his breath was gradually recovering some evenness. “Over there, in the shadow of the rocks…” She followed his finger but found no one there. “I thought there was an elderly couple there, when we arrived, but… I guess they left early.”

Chaokun smiled. “Maybe we’ll come back here.” It felt a bit weird to be free from his embrace now, after the intensity of the past few minutes. “Every year.” Still, his mind was with hers, even though his eyes were. “…but I don’t need you watching that couple fuck.” She grinned. “Eyes on my tits, Sun Shizixin, if you have to put them anywhere but on my face.”

“I was just… surprised.” His arm dropped to take hers, and they walked back to the shrine. “You know, my instructor at the Watch school told me about this. I’d heard of it, but… well, until I had a girl worth taking here…” That answered her unasked question, which had nearly been unthought of. He’d never thought to bring either his former-betrothed (and oh, how Chaokun would need to burn incense to gain her forgiveness for that burst of happiness) or any of his other girls. He took this seriously. He took her seriously. But he was still talking. “Apparently, by second hour they usually have people turn up and arrest those guys. And some people come here every year and end up stripping… I thought it was a joke, but…”

“…I felt it too.” She admitted. And she’d probably remember that feeling forever. Whether it was being in the crowd of those in love, or the hormones flaring, or the spirits… or just them being together, in an environment where they didn’t need to pay attention… Her body ached, in ways unfamiliar, but not entirely unknown. And when she met his eyes, she saw similar feelings. “…On a bed, at least.” She whispered, absently.

“Yeah....” He agreed. “I mean, I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting you go anywhere, but… but it will be worth more if we wait.” He licked his lips. “I do want you, though. And I do love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was an easy enough statement, said before they reached the line to enter the shrine. “And I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you.” And then, they neither said nor communicated, just coexisting. He paid for their incense sticks (she had reached for her purse, but he had actually taken it from her in the car and given it to one of the Nmmr when leaving) and walked into the shrine, lighting their incense and paying their respects to the local spirits, the silence remained between them. Chaokun paid her especial respect to the Drowned Maiden, asking for the pleasure and joy she had died for, and promising to remember her and her lover. She looked up, momentarily, finding her boyfriend locked in communion with the Drowned Youth's image. But there was a line, and they had to move on, so they left with a bow and another donation.

It was a comfortable silence. One of no words needing to be spoken. Until they reached the car, and he opened the back door, and they were inside, and suddenly his lips were on hers, and his hands were on her body, and her hands… she didn’t know what to do with them, but they knew what they wanted to do, and her claws left lines on his chest as their shirts seemed to vanish… it was intense, and it was hungry, and had the felinoids not arrived from their picnic (or whatever it was they were doing, it was impossible to tell, even with her added affinity for them) she’d probably have lost more than her blouse.

She watched their tails as they spoke to eachother. They knew she knew some of what they were saying, and her own tail was joining their dance, but she was still a child in their eyes, and they didn’t give it that much concern. “Mrrrwa… your mother said to bring you to the carnival, Young Master Sun.”

“A-ah, the carnival… s-splendid idea!” His cheeks and ears were bright red, and he was looking anywhere but at her. All those people around, no quiet places…

“Y-yes. I… I’ve always wanted to go to the carnival with a date.” Those tails were telling very pointed stories, and while her ears could no longer flush, her cheeks could. “Um… but maybe I could go home and get a new… I’m not sure what happened to my….” Oh, dear, his fingers had been rather rough on her blouse. She had liked that one, too. At least his robes had come undone, though his shirt was probably unrepairable. She glanced at her claws (now once again masquerading as ordinary nails) and blushed even deeper. She’d have to be careful.

The other felinoid produced, from the boot of the gravcar, a suitcase. “Mrrrwp. Honorable Mistress Drakharn and Miss Zin Llirla, prum, gave us this for you. But young Master Sun, you will need to buy a new shirt.”

Well, that was just rude of their mothers. To expect them to need a change of clothes… although, come to think… it was rather out of character for her mother, at least, to aid and abet in her seduction. “…why do you have a suitcase for me? And why can’t we go to Sun Manor to get him a change?” It was a rather complete set. Rather than just a change of clothes, her mother had apparently packed her several outfits, and a set of formal robes. That was strange. Perhaps they had misunderstood the ritual, but..."Do you know what's going on, Xiaoni?"{

“Well, I need a new shirt anyway.” Her boyfriend rather abruptly moved that line of questioning aside. “Why don’t you help me pick it out, Lahua? After all, you’re the one who’ll be looking at it.” This raised more questions, but the way his eyes lingered on her bandeau (which was fighting a losing battle) got her quickly into her blouse, and by the time she was dressed again they were talking about what they planned to do at the carnival once he was proper again.