What was lost, should stay lost ((FT, intro, openish?))

[Elvhen-an]

"Manoeuvre us alongside her," Ariaranni said, her tone, though as authoritative as ever, wavering with uncertainty.

Sitting in what looked like a marble throne, her bright green eyes were intently focussed on the Da'eluvian - a large, mirror-like, gold-framed screen mounted on the forward bulkhead of the command centre - which currently displayed a hazy image of a large ship. The vessel - long, white and gold in colour, with sweeping lines and a pair of curved, blade-like protrusions at the rear - slowly cruised through space ahead of them, though there were no lights and no sign that they had spotted their pursuer.

"Is it...?" Ariaranni began to ask, trailing off. Isenril, her Second, already knew what the question was. In fairness, Ariaranni already knew what the answer was.

"It is," Isenril said after a long pause, looking up from her control panel to meet the Commander's gaze. "It's the Ven'Mahvir."

The Ven'Mahvir - a name which, very loosely translated, meant 'Way to Tomorrow' - had once carried the hopes, dreams, and ambitions of all the Elvhen people. Constructed at great cost to the Celestial Empire, along with a cadre of the most competent Elvhen mages, Ven'Mahvir had contained within her silverite hull something they simply called a 'Fade drive'. It was meant to open up the cosmos, allowing Elvhen ships to travel to the worlds beyond their own, further than any Elvhen star vessel could ever hope to go.

Ariaranni remembered the launch day well. Sat in her home in Arlathan, she had watched with everybody else as her beloved captained Ven'Mahvir on her maiden voyage. The cheers from the marble streets were deafening when the image of the ship disappeared from screens in a flash of brilliant green light, leaving nothing but black and stars in its place. The Fade drive had worked.

That was thirty years ago. The greatest mages had searched the Fade ever since, at great personal risk, hoping to find the vessel trapped somewhere within. They couldn't. Conventional Elvhen ships searched space as far out as they could safely reach, to no avail. It was only two years ago that a disruption in the Veil was detected in a far-off star system - this star system - at which point Ariaranni immediately volunteered to command the Hanal'ghilan on a mission to investigate.

And now, here they were. And there was the Ven'Mahvir, serenely cruising through the black as though nothing was wrong. At least, Ariaranni hoped that was the case.

"Raise them," she said. Somewhat optimistically.

"This is the Celestial Empire Star Cruiser Hanal'ghilan, seeking commune with Commander, Ven'Mahvir, please reciprocate," Isenril spoke, her smooth voice sounding uncharacteristically nervous. When there was no response, she repeated herself. Still, no response. She looked back at Ariaranni, a forlorn expression on her face.

Ariaranni looked to the ship pilot, Tammen, who controlled their vessel with what looked to be a mosaic of illuminated tiles and runes. "Hold us steady at this distance, Tammen," she told him. "Match her course and speed."

"You're not going over there?" Isenril asked with concern.

"Yes," Ariaranni snapped back, her typically calm demeanour momentarily becoming angry as she shot her a glare that said, 'I've waited too long and have too much at stake not to go over there'. Without saying a further word, Isenril understood.

"Then I am going with you," she replied.

"Have a couple of Emerald Knights meet us in the hangar," Ariaranni called to Tammen; she was already on her way out of the room before Isenril had even secured her station.

---

"He would have replied, you know," Isenril commented. Bravely, some might argue.

"What?" Ariaranni replied, not fully paying attention. She sat in the cramped shuttle looking fairly sorry for herself; slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair, she had her arms folded firmly across her chest, and an expression of either concern or sadness on her pale, angular face. Her pastel green uniform, highlighted by darker green trim, hugged her short, slender figure, and matched her eyes quite well, but it didn't match her bright yellow hair at all.

"Commander Fenrel," Isenril clarified. "He would have replied if he was still alive."

"We know not what the situation is aboard Ven'Mahvir," Ariaranni said.

"It has been thirty years, ma'falon," Isenril said, before sighing and looking away. "If the situation was good aboard Ven'Mahvir, we would not even need to be here."

As she eyed the blue-eyed, raven-haired Second, Ariaranni knew her to be correct. Or at least her brain knew. Her heart, on the other hand, wasn't about to give up on her beloved. We do not age, she kept telling herself. Thirty years is nothing to us!

"Hangar doors are not live," the silver-haired shuttle pilot called from the cockpit. Ariaranni stood up, her lithe frame struggling to reach its diminutive height in the cramped passenger compartment, and stumbled forward to lean on the pilot's chair.

"They shall not work," she said. "You must lock us on... there." She pointed, and the pilot's gaze followed her finger to a spot on the white hull of the Ven'Mahvir; near midships, there appeared to be a small hatch, barely even noticeable from this distance. But then, he had not spent the last thirty years studying the ship schematics every night.

"I see it," the pilot acknowledged. Ariaranni steadied herself as the small craft lurched forward once again. Ven'Mahvir grew in size, seemingly endlessly, as they approached, until at last the pilot skilfully flipped the shuttle end-over-end and slowed them down to a crawl.

A muffled 'clunk' signified contact.

While the Emerald Knights, donned in their bright green armour, worked on opening the hatch, Isenril clasped Ariaranni's shoulder firmly and whispered into her delicate, pointed ear.

"I know you live in hope, but please be ready to accept whatever we may find, ma'falon," she told her. "We must be ready for anything; our lives may depend upon it."

Ariaranni reached up and placed her hand upon Isenril's, giving her a nod.

"Hahren, I think..." one of the Emerald Knights began, before being cut off by a deep whirring sound. The clean white panel that blocked their progress slid downwards, and the pitch black innards of Ven'Mahvir's bowels were presented to them. Stale air rushed into the shuttle as the pressure equalised, popping their ears.

"...we're in," the Knight finished, looking pleased with himself. He reached over his shoulder and pulled a collapsed rifle from a clip on his back, which promptly unfolded itself in his hand. He flicked a switch on the side and a flashlight burst to life, which he aimed through the door. The light didn't help much; a mist lingered in the air, obscuring their view.

"We need to get to the forecastle first," Ariaranni said, peering ahead curiously. "If the crew yet lives, we will find them there. If they have... if they have perished, we will find out how." She gestured to the other Emerald Knight. "You remain here. If you see anybody approach, alert us at once."

"Yes hahren," the Knight nodded. He took out his own rifle, though held it casually across his chest, and leaned up against the wall. Ariaranni, Isenril and the other Knight, meanwhile, cautiously filed out of the shuttle.

"What is your name, Knight?" Ariaranni asked in a hushed voice.

The Emerald Knight, while scanning his surroundings both with his eyes and his rifle, replied in his surprisingly melodic voice. Ariaranni glanced at him; he was tall, for an Elvhen at least, and was surprisingly well-built. His face was long, though chiselled, and his black hair poked out from the rim of his helmet and drooped across his forehead. Though they didn't age, Ariaranni knew youth when she saw it. "I am Saralan, hahren."

"Saralan," Ariaranni repeated. "Take a right up ahead."

"Yes hahren," Saralan replied, before adding: "You've been here before?"

"No," she shook her head. They rounded the corner; the light streaming out from the shuttle door disappearing behind it, plunging them into darkness. They suddenly felt very alone, even though the pilot and the other Knight were only meters away. "I've studied the design. A lot, really."

They continued down the narrow corridor, as Saralan's light illuminated a giant archway ahead of them. "Through here?" he asked.

"Yes." The huge corridor they emerged in was more like an underground highway; high ceilings, a wide, open metal floor, with walls so far apart that the mist prevented the flashlight from reaching them. "We're in the central throughway. It connects every area of the ship." She tapped Saralan on the shoulder and pointed in the opposite direction to the way he was facing. "That way to the forecastle."

"Why have you studied this ship so much?" Saralan asked her, heading in the direction she indicated. His leather boots, clumpy and heavy, sent echoes down the huge throughway with each footfall.

"Well... has not everyone? It is the great mystery of our time," Ariaranni replied, evasively.

"Yes, but... you seem to have memorised the floor layouts, and the external hatches, and..."

"Pay attention."

"Commander Fenrel was her vhenan'ara," Isenril chimed in after a few moments of silence.

"Second Isenril!" Ariaranni snapped, her head spinning to face her Second. She rarely mentioned her friend's rank, only appending it to her name when she was extremely angry.

"It was hardly a secret," Isenril protested. "And the Knight has a right to know."

Ariaranni almost growled at her Second, but she was interrupted.

A deep, bellowing, blood-curdling roar reverberated around them, seemingly from all directions, forcing all three of them to slap their hands onto their ears to try and shut out the deafening sound. It was like nothing they had heard before; no manner of beast could make a sound like that. When it stopped, it became unnervingly silent again.

Sheepishly removing his hands from his pointed ears, Saralan reached down to pick up the rifle he dropped, and after a few moments of deathly silence he asked - in a hushed whisper - what they were all thinking: "What was that?"

Ariaranni's head twitched from side to side, trying to spot the source of the roar, but she could see nor hear anything. "I know not!" she replied, panic in her voice.

"We should return to the shuttle," Isenril said in a harsh whisper. "We can return with reinforcements!"

"Agreed!" Ariaranni nodded. Exhaling sharply to attract his attention, she gestured to Saralan the way back to the shuttle, and he promptly took the lead at a brisk pace.

"Is this where we came in?" Saralan asked, coming to a stop. He shone his flashlight at the arch, but the door was closed.

"Yes," Ariaranni confirmed, reaching down to her brown belt and pulling off a opalescent stone. "Hanal'ghilan, this is Commander Ariaranni, can you hear me?"

Silence responded.

"This could be a problem," Saralan said sarcastically. His back was now to the closed door, as his sleek rifle panned across the rest of the throughway.

Ariaranni slipped the stone back into the compartment on her belt and pulled her slender, black sidearm free for the first time. "Yes Knight, it could," she agreed. "Ven'Mahvir has a transmitter in her forecastle, however."

"What?" Isenril exclaimed. "You heard that too, correct? We should get this door open and find out what we are dealing with first."

"It will not open," Ariaranni shook her head. "Trust me. Our only choice is to go to the forecastle."

"With respect hahren, that seems like a mistake," Saralan said.

They fell silent when, in the distance, a deep, metallic clunking sound began, as though someone were repeatedly stamping their foot at the other end of the corridor. The white walls around them vibrated with the impact. And then it stopped again. Ariaranni wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear faint laughter. Barely audible. And not playful.

"I do not like this idea at all," Isenril shook her head.

"We can either do it quickly, or we can hang around here and wait," Ariaranni said, gritting her teeth. "Follow me." Cautiously, she began walking as quietly as she could. Isenril and Saralan, sighing in unison, reluctantly followed.

[Elvhen-an]

Tammen leaned his elbows against his control panel, glancing up at the da'eluvian impatiently. Within its gold frame was the rippling image of a shuttle docked with Ven'Mahvir, both seemingly dormant. He was quite fond of his Commander, and her Second, and hoped everything was as dormant on the inside as it seemed from the outside. That they hadn't heard anything from them made him uneasy.

Aside from anything else, he was technically Third, and would be left in command of Hanal'ghilan should anything happen to them - a responsibility he absolutely didn't want resting on his shoulders for the next three years.

He stood up, placing his hands behind his back. "Any word, Jahon?"

A man operating the communications stones looked up. "Nothing yet, hahren." Tammen grimaced at the honorific Jahon gave him. He'd volunteered to serve in the Celestial Navy to pilot star cruisers, not command others. "No - wait, listen." Jahon exclaimed, and rolled his hand across one of the opalescent stones mounted in his control panel. A familiar voice emerged, seemingly from nowhere, and yet at the same time, from all around them.

"Hanal'ghilan, this is Commander Ariaranni, can you hear me?" Ariaranni's disembodied voice said, as clear as though she were in the room.

"Yes hahren, we hear you!" Tammen exclaimed, the relief in his voice palpable. "We were becoming concerned."

"That is touching, Tammen," Ariaranni replied mockingly. "Ready the hangar - we are returning to the Hanal'ghilan. Have Taerel meet us there."

Tammen frowned. Why would they need the ship's mage? "Are you injured, hahren?"

"Just do it. Ariaranni out."

He pondered the request for a few moments, then shrugged. Mages helped build and fly the Ven'Mahvir. Perhaps they needed something examining?

Or perhaps they were hurt.

"Jahon, you heard the Commander. Have the Master Mage report to the hangar at once."

"Yes, hahren," Jahon replied, inflicting another grimace upon Tammen as he watched the image of the shuttle on the da'eluvian. It had already detached from the lost vessel, and was returning to its mothership - quite quickly, at that.

---

"How big is this ship, anyway?"

Ariaranni looked back at the Emerald Knight with an amused expression on her face. "Tired, Knight?"

"No," Saralan retorted dismissively, puffing up his chest. "But it seems to go on forever."

"The Ven'Mahvir is exactly six hundred and twelve elva'uthen in length," Ariaranni told him. "With seven decks and two sub-decks."

"So... big, then," Saralan shrugged.

"Precisely."

"It needed to be," Isenril added. "The Fade drive needs lots of... redundancies. To stop it from damaging the Veil."

"Hold up," Saralan said, raising his hand. He stepped forwards and aimed his rifle ahead. There was a large, arched door, signifying the end of the throughway. A large, closed door. "Is this where we need to go?"

"Yes," Ariaranni nodded, stepping to his side. She reached out and hovered her hand next to the bulkhead, gently waving it up and down.

"So this one won't open either," Isenril sighed.

"It should open," Ariaranni said. "The control runes are magic. It should open even if there is no power. It's the forecastle - it has to be accessible all the time."

"Seems like nobody told the builders," Saralan said. He span to the left as a whirring noise broke the silence, and aimed his flashlight at the source. An open side door. "Did we do that?"

"That one is a regular door," Ariaranni said thoughtfully, raising her pistol. "It shouldn't function if there is no power."

"Perhaps there is power," Isenril said. "And somebody is controlling the ship - guiding us somewhere?"

"We can still get to the forecastle through there, it shall simply take a little longer," Ariaranni said. Cautiously she stepped through the smaller, more open door, followed quickly by Saralan and Isenril. It slammed shut behind them, startling all three of them.

"Maybe you are right Second," Saralan said, turning around to look at the room they found themselves in. "Perhaps the crew has space madness."

"That is not a real thing, Knight," Ariaranni corrected. "And even if it were, Ven'Mahvir was crewed with the best."

"If you say so, hahren," Saralan said. After a long pause, he added, "doors do not just open and close by themselves though."

They spread out a little. The room they were in was smaller than the huge throughway they had just left; the ceilings were lower, the room itself smaller in length and breadth, and Saralan's flashlight provided much more illumination here, as it rebounded between the bright white and gold walls.

It seemed to be a galley. Counters covered in cooking implements and dessicated food surrounded them, seemingly not touched in decades. As Saralan approached a grey stone washbasin, he cleared his throat and nervously attracted the attention of the others. "Is the gravity malfunctioning, or are they just supposed to do that?"

They looked over. The tap was dripping, though as soon as each drop emerged, instead of splashing into the basin below it rose upwards. They followed its path and found a puddle of water forming above their heads, along with a variety of everyday objects sat on the ceiling, as though they had every right to be there.

"It cannot be," Isenril shook her head, not taking her gaze off the unusual sight presented to her. "We are not on the ceiling."

One of the objects - a carving knife - chose that moment to drop away from the ceiling, embedding itself into the counter next to Saralan, who promptly backed away. They all turned as a clattering sound from the opposite side of the room caught their ear, and as Saralan's flashlight aimed over there they saw that every single pot and pan on that side of the room now rested peacefully on the wall - including whatever spoiled food they contained.

"The Veil must be thin here," Ariaranni said, backing away slowly.

"Maybe the ship wasn't big enough," Saralan joked, obviously growing nervous.

"We need out of this room," Isenril said, fear in her voice.

"The door over there is open," Ariaranni said, pointing. The others followed her slowly as she made her way out. They stepped into a narrow corridor that split into a T-juntion, just in time to hear the topsy-turvy contents of the galley crash down to the floor and, as before, the door slammed down behind them with a solid 'clunk'.

And, as before, the tenuous whisper of a laugh momentarily caught Ariaranni's ear, fading as quickly as she noticed it.

Gulping deeply, she grabbed Saralan's shoulder and pointed to the right. "That way, Knight. Let us hurry this up."

[Elvhen-an]

"Hangar, this is the forecastle, please reciprocate," Tammen said. For the third time. The shuttle had landed more than 20 melava ago, and they had heard nothing since. He would have gone down there to investigate, but his place was in the command centre of the ship - until Ariaranni relieved him.

"I shall have a mage check if the stones are working," Jahon commented.

"The stones are working," Tammen said solemnly. "As are the Hanal'ghilan's senses. And yet we cannot detect anything in the hangar."

Jahon shrugged. "Perhaps there is a disruption affecting them both?"

Tammen frowned. That would explain both magical systems ceasing to function correctly at the same time. But the senses could see everything outside the hangar, the stones worked fine immediately before the shuttle landed, and the da'eluvian continued to project an image of the Ven'Mahvir, still cruising peacefully through the black. He felt that something else was wrong.

"Forecastle, everything is completely fine," a disembodied voice suddenly replied. Or, voices? It sounded like Commander Ariaranni, but... odd. "Come down here, Tammen. Come down here now, and see what we have found!" There was definitely something odd about her voice. A barely perceptible flanging effect, as though someone else were whispering the same words at the same time.

"Wait," Tammen grabbed Jahon's hand before he had chance to touch one of the stones.

"What is it hahren?" Jahon asked. His angular face twisted into a confused expression.

"Does the Commander sound... strange to you?" Tammen asked.

Jahon shrugged. "No more strange than usual, hahren."

"I know you can hear me, Tammen," the odd voice continued. "Why are you ignoring me?"

Tammen frowned. He wasn't imagining it. The stones either worked, or they didn't, and when they worked they were as clear as a sunny day. There was no distortion or... whatever that was. It wasn't just the way she was talking either, it was the words she was using. She almost sounded petulant, like a len. "You cannot hear that?"

"Hahren, the Commander seems to be growing impatient," Jahon said, looking up at him. "Perhaps you could have a mage check your ears later?"

"Perhaps," Tammen shrugged. "Have a pair of Emerald Knights meet me outside the hangar."

"Knights, hahren?"

"Yes, Jahon, Knights," Tammen said impatiently as he walked towards the lift. "Even if I am hearing things, the Commander has brought something back to the ship and it is simply protocol."

"Brought something back? What are you talking...?" Jahon began, his expression more confused. He was cut off as the lift door whirred closed with the Third behind it. "Mythal protect us. Space madness..." he grumbled, and used one of the stones to signal the barracks.

As the lift doors opened Tammen stepped out and paced quickly down the short, narrow corridor. Rounding the corner he found the hangar doors, flanked by two Emerald Knights in full armour, rifles slung lazily over their shoulders. "Knights, with me," Tammen commanded. They snapped to attention, grasping their rifles.

Tammen paused. He had no idea what they were going to find, and he hesitated to swipe his hand across the rune that opened the door. Perhaps he was imagining it? Perhaps, after three years in the deepest black, he had been afflicted with space madness? Was that even a thing? He didn't know. But after two centuries, he had learned to trust his gut instincts - something was not right.

With a deep breath he swiped the rune and the doors parted open, a translucent, pale blue magical barrier deploying in their stead, that served no other function than keeping the air in - or out - of the hangar. He motioned for the armed men to step through first, causing a buzzing noise as they passed through the barrier, and then he followed suit. The hangar was fairly small, big enough only to hold four shuttles, with a wide open space in the centre for them to manoeuvre around in when leaving the ship through the doors in the floor, which were currently closed.

The lights were flickering, though, off more than they were on, and a peculiar mist hovered at waist height above the floor, making it difficult to see. Despite this it took little time to spot the shuttle, discarded carelessly just to the right of the disembarkation doors in the floor, with its side hatch wide open. Light poured out of the hatch, its rays cutting through the mist and casting eerie shadows across one side of the room. Cautiously he stepped forward, sensing the Knights having similar concerns by now, and squinted. He was sure he could see movement inside, as though figures were stepping across the hatch opening, but they were little more than blurry silhouettes, moving too quickly for him to resolve their identity.

His head snapped to the left as movement on the other side of the room caught his attention.

"Tammen," many voices spoke at once. Ariaranni's voice was in there somewhere, but... it was dominated by deeper, less pleasant tones. "We have been waiting for you. And you brought guests!"

A figure stepped towards them, hard to make out, but clearly taller than any Elvhen. Then, for a split second it was illuminated as the lights flickered again, and Tammen's worst fears were promptly realised.

"Open fire!" he screamed.

---

Saralan carefully leaned his rifle against the wall, with the barrel facing upwards so that the flashlight's beam would still help them see. He pulled a short, curved, silver blade from his armour and crammed the edge into the crack of the metal door, and began to try prying it open.

"I take issue with using my dagger this way, for the record," he commented between grunts. He placed the edge of his palm against one of the raised golden markings and pushed with all his might. It moved not an inch. "My mamae gave me this."

"Just get it open," Ariaranni grunted, pacing from side to side.

"Let me hel... wait," Isenril began, cutting herself off. "Do you hear that?"

Ariaranni looked to her Second with a raised eyebrow. "For the first time since we arrived it is quiet," she said, cocking her head towards the struggling Emerald Knight. "Aside from his grunting."

"Would you like to try this instead, hahren?" Saralan retorted.

"I thought you were strong, Knight!" Ariaranni mocked. "With all those muscles!"

Isenril shrugged, but then immediately span around. "There it is again - I hear somebody!"

"I hear nothing, Isenril," Ariaranni snapped. "Your mind is playing tricks."

"Worry not, I'm coming!" Isenril suddenly yelled, and began running off into the dark.

"Second Isenril, wait!" Ariaranni called after her, but her slender frame had disappeared into the dark. Saralan promptly slipped his knife away, abandoning the door and grabbing his rifle. He pointed it in the direction the Second had run off in, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Why did she do that?" Saralan said.

"I know not but we must find her," Ariaranni said, her voice laden with panic. "Splitting up is most assuredly a terrible idea. Come on."

[Elvhen-an]

"Where could she have gone?" Saralan asked. He and Ariaranni slowly walked side-by-side down the long, narrow corridor, the clumpy footsteps from their boots sending muffled echoes down its length for whoever - or whatever - might be down there to hear.

Ariaranni shrugged, though she wasn't sure why; Saralan was busy scanning their surroundings, with both his eyes and his rifle, and paying little attention to her. From time to time he would turn around and walk backwards for a few paces as he checked to see what was behind them - each time causing Ariaranni to stumble in the dark and elicit an apology from him. His caution may have been overkill, however, as they hadn't heard a sound since Isenril ran off, though whether or not that was a good thing Ariaranni hadn't decided yet. "I know not. We have to keep looking."

Isenril's disappearing act had frustrated their attempts to get to the forecastle, of course, and every minute they were looking for her was a minute longer they were aboard the Ven'Mahvir. Were Ariaranni a cynic she'd have imagined that to be the reason for causing her to run off like that in the first place, but entertaining such thoughts meant entertaining the notion that there was some kind of intelligence at work here, which she was unprepared to do. It meant opening up the field to all manner of unpleasant possibilities.

"All of these doors are closed, hahren," Saralan said through his teeth. He was clearly growing frustrated by all of this. The Emerald Knights were all about control. Control of the situation, control of the field of battle, control of themselves and their subordinates. They weren't known for their patience. And here, on this ship, they had no control. Not even of themselves, if Isenril was anything to go by.

"Look," Ariaranni said, tapping the Knight's forearm and pointing. They were approaching a bend in the corridor, and a dim green, flickering light could be seen dancing on the angled white walls in the arched corner, causing the embossed gold markings to cast bobbing shadows below. Saralan followed her pointing finger and nodded, stepping forward and quietly placing his body firmly against the wall to peer his head around to try and see the source of the light. After a few moments he looked back at her and nodded, before stepping out into the open. Ariaranni followed suit.

A few metres down, she saw a veilfire brazier mounted on the bulkhead. It was alight, the white and green flames burning brightly and silently, its reaching, transitory tendrils licking the air around it just like real fire. Its magical nature gave it an eerie, somewhat unnatural aura, but to Elvhenen of course there was nothing odd about it - veilfire helped illuminate city streets back home, after all.

That it was burning here, now, was odd. While it burned for far longer than normal fire, being magical in origins veilfire needed to be tended by mages once in a while to remain lit. Certainly, it would need to be tended to at least more than once in 30 years, at any rate.

"Veilfire," Ariaranni stated the obvious while her wide eyes adjusted to the light, which had become something of a novelty by this point.

"Yes hahren," Saralan agreed. "But who lit it?"

The hazy green glow bathed the corridor in much-welcomed illumination, and its flickering light appeared to be pouring through an open doorway on the opposite side of the corridor. "That is the ship's arcane laboratory," Ariaranni said.

Saralan moved towards the door, peering cautiously around the open archway and shining his flashlight in. There were no other lights inside the room that he could see, only the dim reflections of the brazier that burnt outside. His eyes followed the beam from his flashlight as it panned the far reaches of the surprisingly large laboratory.

"Big," he commented.

"There were a lot of mages aboard," Ariaranni replied.

"Hello?" a nervous male voice suddenly responded, apparently hearing them talking. Both Ariaranni and Saralan jumped in their skin, pulling back to take cover. Saralan looked at Ariaranni, widening his eyes questioningly. She responded with a shrug.

"Is... is somebody there?"

The voice sounded familiar.

"Tammen?" Ariaranni called into the room, confused.

"Yes!" the voice replied, less nervously than before. "Is that you Commander?"

Ariaranni and Saralan breathed a sigh of relief, and stepped through the arched door into the lab. Saralan scanned his flashlight around until he could find the source of the voice, the face of which popped up from behind an engraved desk. "By the Dread Wolf, what are you doing here, Third?!" Ariaranni asked, exasperatedly.

"I... I know not," Tammen stammered. He stood up and dusted off his pale green uniform, then looked around at his surroundings, a genuinely confused expression on his face. "You had returned to the ship and asked to... asked to see me in the hangar. I stepped through the doors and... now I am here."

"I had returned to the ship?" Ariaranni said with a frown. She was fairly sure she hadn't. "Tammen, you are on the Ven'Mahvir, and we have not left since we boarded her! How did you get here?"

Tammen shook his head nervously. "I know not! I swear it!"

Ariaranni exchanged glances with Saralan, who notably hadn't stopped aiming his rifle cautiously at Tammen, and sighed. She wasn't sure what was going on, or if that was even Tammen stood before her, but she did know that this changed nothing. They needed to leave the Ven'Mahvir, sooner rather than later.

"Have you seen Isenril?" she asked. Tammen shook his head vigorously, his brown hair flailing from side to side. With a deep breath, Ariaranni said, "right. Of course not."

She looked around the room, dimly lit by the combination of the brazier outside and Saralan's flashlight. The walls were covered in ancient tomes, the contents of which she couldn't even begin to understand. Various desks and arcane 'bits and pieces', as she ignorantly liked to call them, littered the room as though the mages working here had simply up and left in the midst of a project. Strange crystals and stones were arranged on one of them, another was covered in potion making equipment, and a mage's staff lay idle on another still. Nothing useful, like a functioning computer or a second flashlight. Not even a veilfire torch she could light with the brazier outside.

"Have you seen or heard anything since you woke up... hahren?" Saralan asked the Third, appending the 'hahren' on the end reluctantly, as though he wasn't sure it was really his superior officer in front of him.

"I have been awake only a few minutes," Tammen shook his head. "What is going on, Commander?"

Ariaranni picked up the mage's staff and eyed it curiously. "If I knew, I would happily inform you."

"With respect hahren, our goal would seem to be unchanged," Saralan said, mirroring her own thoughts. He turned to face her, taking his rifle away from Tammen for the first time since finding him. "We need to find your Second, get to the forecastle, and signal for help."

"It wasn't you!" Tammen suddenly blurted out. He cradled his head in his hands, as though deep in thought. "I remember now! We entered the hangar, Emerald Knights and I! We thought to find you there! But it was not you at all!"

"What are you talking about Tammen?" Ariaranni said.

"It was an Era'harel," Tammen continued, looking up at them with wide, scared eyes. The word 'Era'harel' immediately elicited a similar expression from Ariaranni and Saralan. "There are Era'harel on the Hanal'ghilan! Pretending to be you! And they came from this ship!"

"Are you sure Tammen?" Ariaranni asked nervously.

"I am certain, hahren!" Tammen nodded. "It attacked, and then I awoke here. That is all I remember!"

Ariaranni looked at Saralan, her expression changing to one of determination. "We have to get back. Now. While we still have a ship to get back to."

"What of Isenril?"

"Hopefully we stumble upon her on the way," Ariaranni said. "But we cannot waste time looking for her anymore."

[Elvhen-an]

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; deck three, amidships

Knight-Captain Merrill took a knee. Her emerald-green armour, though it looked like old fashioned plate armour, was surprisingly flexible and offered little resistance. Before her, Knight Fenrian was half-covered behind the unusual arch shape of the corridor, his head peering out as he strained to see what was going on further down. The lights flickered, as though something were interfering with the runes that normally illuminated the innards of the Hanal'ghilan, and their connection to the Fade. Her gloved hand shaking his shoulder aroused his attention with a start; he span round and pointed the barrel of his rifle at her until a relieved sigh emerged from his closed helmet.

"Knight-Captain," he said, relief in his voice.

"What is the situation here Knight?" Merrill asked firmly. She, unlike the other Emerald Knights, wore no helmet, and her golden hair flowed across her narrow shoulders, framing her slender face. He, on the other hand, appeared to be taking no chances, and had both the full, face-covering helmet and bulky pauldrons, obscuring his appearance completely.

"First we lost the hangar, hahren," he told her in a muffled, gravelly voice. "Then the deck. Then the surrounding areas. We are holding further back to cut them off from the forecastle; I am scouting for survivors before we seal this route. All other routes have already been sealed with barriers by the surviving mages. Hopefully their barriers hold."

"Lost them to what, Knight?" Merrill asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I... could not say," Fenrian shook his head. "I have read stories. You would not believe me were I to say what stories they were."

Merrill frowned. This was a well-trained Knight, with many years of experience. She wouldn't have taken him for superstitious.

"You would need to ask the Fade Hunters," he added. "Except, I cannot find them anywhere."

Fade Hunters. The elite branch of the Emerald Knights devoted to combating the beings that lived in the Fade, should they ever breach the Veil and enter this world. Or worse, possess an Elvhen mage and inherit their powers on top of their own. Some called the beings 'spirits', others 'demons', and the scientifically-inclined termed them 'extradimensional beings'. Whatever they were called, they were powerful entities that interacted with the Elvhenen - unbeknownst to them - in their dreams, and learned of this dimension from them. According to the history books, the beings repeatedly tried to enter this world, and thus the Fade Hunters were born.

Trained in repelling magic, Merrill knew they they hadn't been needed for that purpose for a long time, and were kept around more for their special combat training than their 'demon hunting' abilities. After all, modern mages took steps to strengthen the Veil, to keep those beings out of this world for good, and modern science had doubled their efforts with purpose-built technology. It was unheard of for them to come here nowadays.

Merrill gestured for him to move out of the way, frustrated at his lack of sensible answers. She reached into a satchel strapped to her waist and pulled out a visor of some kind, which she placed over her pointed ears and activated. Two holographic 'screens' appeared over her eyes, giving her a sort of night vision. She then looked around the corner.

At the far end of the wide hall, she could see about half a dozen or more silhouettes moving around slowly. They looked to be Elvhen, with their hallmark build and what seemed to be pointed ears jutting out of their heads, but they were moving oddly. Shambling, stumbling, their heads moving from side to side in jerky movements. One of them bumped into another, causing the other to flail its arms like dead weights at it angrily. Then they resumed shambling.

She returned to cover and looked at the Knight. "Those are obviously crewmen," she said. "There is something wrong with them though. Has anybody checked the Hanal'ghilan's senses for traces of contamination?"

"You think them diseased, hahren?" Fenrian said harshly. "With respect, I have seen them fell and consume four other Knights, who then rose to join their ranks! No disease does this."

Merrill frowned. "Then you would have me believe they are Fade Shamblers of the old stories? Or Era'harelen?"

"I know not," Fenrian said. "But they are of the People no more."

"I shall resolve this," the Knight-Captain said firmly. She grabbed Fenrian's forearm and pulled him with her out of cover, ignoring his struggles. They now stood upright and facing the far side of the corridor, in clear sight of the figures further down.

"Hanal'ghilan crew, I regret to inform you that you have been infected by some manner of alien disease!" Merrill called to the shambling figures. They clearly heard her; they froze in place like statues immediately. "I know it must be scary, but if you surrender yourselves to the Emerald Knights for quarantine we shall do our best to get you the help you need!"

"Hahren, we must run," Fenrian whispered to her loudly, frozen in place, not taking his eyes off the figures.

"Don't be absurd," she snapped, before addressing the still-frozen figures again. "Did you hear me? We have to get you into quarantine now, so that the mages and doctors can examine you!"

One of the figures jerked forward, as though tentatively taking a step before regretting it. A response to her callings was carried down the corridor; a rasping exhalation, like somebody with a dry throat trying to roar. It took another jerky step, this time accompanied by the other six or seven figures.

"You will hold your position and keep your hands visible to me," she called sternly. They ignored her and broke into a clumsy run all at once, their arms flailing about and failing to balance, all of them emitting the same raspy scream. "Hold! I said hold!"

Without asking, Fenrian shook off the Knight-Captain's grasp and raised his rifle. A brilliant bolt of blue light lanced through the air with a hiss, striking one of the incoming figures with a jolt that carved a chunk from its torso and sent it flying backwards. The light from the bolt briefly illuminated the entire hall, and in that split second Merrill saw the faces of the other figures - their skin, grey and tepid, covered in lesions and blood, their eyes, grey and dead... they may have been Elvhen once, but they weren't any longer.

She pulled her own rifle from her back and began firing as soon as it had deployed. Together their hissing lances of light cut into the running corpses, slicing parts of them off and filling the hall with the stench of roasted flesh. The last figure was felled by Fenrian, which fell head-over-heels and slid to a halt right in front of them.

Panting from sheer adrenaline, Merrill looked down at the dead... whatever it was, and gave it a tentative kick with her boot. When it didn't move, she gave it a firmer push, rolling it onto its back. The lifeless limbs flopped to its sides, but it didn't move. It was a woman, wearing a Celestial Navy crewman's jumpsuit; her features looked to have been pretty once, but they were now marred by death and disease. Her empty, grey, bloodshot eyes were still open, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

"What is this...?" she said, stepping away from the thing.

"I told you," Fenrian said with a sigh. "We must leave before they rise again."

"What?" Merrill exclaimed.

"I fought some of these earlier," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "They stay down not for long."

Merrill looked back down the hallway. Already there was a noise like clothing being ruffled by slight movements. The first one to have been fired on was grasping at the floor, trying to get back up despite the hole in its torso. She had been sent to find out why the forecastle had lost contact with several decks of the ship, and by the Dread Wolf - she had an answer.

"Right," Merrill nodded. "Where are we holding the line?"

"I shall take you to them, Knight-Captain," Fenrian nodded. "Stay close, hahren. It is this way."

They made their way through the corridors; the further from the core sections of the Hanal'ghilan they got, the less the lights flickered, as though the disturbance had a central point within the ship somewhere. It wasn't long before they heard the distinctive hissing of weapons fire - massive amounts of weapons fire, in fact. They broke into a run and came to the main throughway, emerging behind a line of Emerald Knights all firing in unison. They had built a makeshift defensive line out of crates, chairs, and anything else they could find and stack, and fired their rifles over the top of it. The constant bursts of light were enough to induce an epileptic seizure. A mage stood further back, his staff leaning against the wall as he waved his hands around to summon a large fireball, which he subsequently released into the air at speed.

Merrill followed its path as it exploded upon a horde of Fade Shamblers further down the throughway, all screaming their raspy roars and running listlessly towards the fortifications. They were scattered by the explosion, some in pieces, though more quickly filled the space, they too only to be felled by a combination of mage lightning and particle beams. The noise was deafening.

She found herself thrown to one side as the fortifications were hit by another fireball, this one flung from within the crowd of shamblers. They have a mage too? How?! Winded she looked up, several Emerald Knights were now strewn across the floor, in various states of injury. One mage rushed over and slammed his staff to the ground, generating a bright blue protective barrier around them while another mage dropped to his knees and tried to heal them. Other Emerald Knights hurried forward to fill the void of fire left by their fallen comrades, desperately trying to hold back the oncoming, seemingly limitless horde.

A menacing roar somehow overwhelmed the combat noise, forcing Merrill to cover her ears as it shook the deck plating. She had to tell the forecastle what was happening here.

[Natornic Cultures]

OOC: Hoping it isn't too early to join in. Also I hope I'm not being to godmoddy.

IC: While it was still rebuilding, the United Galactic Starfleet has become stronger than ever since the war with the terrorist organization Black Star. Admiral Dol Anderson aboard the star dreadnaught Scinfaxi was cruising deep space on another boring heavy patrol with four corvettes and the battleship Alpha Centauri, or at least he hoped so. It was two hours into the patrol that a crew member manning the scanners detected something. "Admiral, long range scanner's detected something in a distant star system. ID'd as X-11-04. Trace signs of hyperspace energy lingers there, and there are feint signs of battle. The sig is definitely too small to be heavy weapons fire so its probably small arms." the officer reported. Dol just looks at him quizzically. By the UGSF's reckoning, that system is supposed to be lifeless. Intergalactic records show no attempts to colonize there, by ANY empire for that matter. "Any physical sigs?" he asks. "Just a derelict exploratory star cruiser and a warship, sir. ID sigs from both ships are fuzzy at this distance but have common blips." the officer replied. Dol knew something. Whatever was happening among the stars wasn't good. All he can tell is that someone went to salvage their derelict but ran into all sorts of trouble- "Sir?" the officer asked. "I'll need to check in with command before we move to intercept. XO, you have the bridge." Dol said, before saluting the officers in the room. He turns and leaves heading for the ward room.

Ward room - UGSF Dreadnaught Scinfaxi

"Admiral. Our long range scanners have picked up a signal from a distant system, possible combat. I'd like permission to intercept." Dol said as he spoke into a blue holographic image of Grand Admiral Howard Adama. It seemed like an eternity, but in a couple seconds Howard quickly came up with an answer. "Permission granted, Admiral. Be vigilant out there, there are rumors that the Sith assisted the Black Star. If they have a presence in that system, shoot first, and ask questions later." Howard salutes Dol before the link is cut. It was best that he return to the bridge and report his answer to the navigator and XO. As he starts walking down the hall, a black, faded, ghostly form stops him. "Dol." it spoke in a low tone. The Admiral heard it, and a security camera recorded every minute of the conversation. "Who are you? What are you doing on my ship?! Do you realize how you are breaking the rules with your-" he said before being cut off by the image in front of him. "Who I am or my reasons for being here do not matter. All that matters is that you hear my words." it said. The dark shroud is replaced by a white, angelic apparition, revealing an image of the ancient Natornic hero Revan, a Dragonborn who defeated darkness many millennia ago. "Revan...?" Dol asks as he backed down a bit at the ancient hero's image. He learned about him in the history books, and knew to show signs of respect to the Dragonborn. "Dol, I am hear to warn you. Strange things are happening out there among the stars you and your men walk. The ship you seek has been corrupted, its crew maddened or missing." Dol looked on, seeing images of the derelict starship as it once was get sent through voidspace with a fade drive, only to be ensnared somewhere within by a dark veil, before it exits as a floating, lifeless hulk. "Any life who steps aboard will become mad, and lose all willpower to the dark spirits that walk its halls." Dol looks back at Revan. "What do you want me to do, ignore my recently given orders to intercept?" he asks. "No." Revan replies. "Simply train your... commandos, as you call them, to withstand whatever temptations happen within the walls of that ship. Know your foes on this assignment, for they will be many, and none of them will be what you have faced before. And remember. The holy spirit is always with you." With that, Revan disappears in a flash of light, returning to the world he came from. A new sense of calm entranced Dol into a state of bravery and heroism as he walked the rest of the way to the bridge, muttering the words 'I will forever hold your wisdom in my heart, Revan.'

Bridge - UGSF Battlestar Scinfaxi

"Attention! Admiral on deck!" the XO announced as Dol walks in. "At ease, gentlemen." he orders. "You have an answer?" the XO asks. "Yes. We are to enter hyperspace and intercept whatever it is that is causing these disturbances." "Aye, sir." the XO replies. "Navigator, prep hyperdrive for jump to the designated coordinates." With that order the fleet enters hyperspace for the unknown system.

-Unknown Star System-
The fleet leaves hyperspace roughly close to the disturbance, and immediately, Dol could feel the dark aura surrounding the Derelict. "Halt all forward momentum and keep all weapons powered down. Get a close-up on that derelict ship, I wanna know what we're up against. Comms, get a link up with that warship, I want to alert them to our intentions." he orders. A holographic image of the warship close to the derelict pops up on the main screen, indicating that the other race doesn't have any holo-communications technology. "This is Admiral Dol Anderson aboard the UGSF Dreadnaught Scinfaxi. We received reports via long range scanners about weapons fire in this system. We come in peace and would like to know what is going on, over." The waiting game begins. Oh how he hated the waiting game that comes standard with communications. Even if readback is quick, it still feels like an eternity to him.

[Elvhen-an]

"But if I am remembering properly..." Tammen said.

"You are clearly not," Saralan protested in his most respectful tone.

"Yes, I don't remember how I came to be here, so how could I be remembering that part right either?" Tammen said mockingly, repeating what the Emerald Knight had said to him in a dismissive tone not moments before they passed yet another locked door. "But we should consider these things in the slim chance that I am."

Saralan sighed and stopped walking, turning to look back at Ariaranni who shrugged. She had nothing to offer him but a discrete, yet pitying, 'do what your superior officer is telling you, even you think it absurd, there's a jolly good Knight' expression.

"Well, hahren," Saralan said, turning back in the direction they moved. "From what I understand, the Era'harel seek dominion over all in the real world, as they enjoy in the Fade. They use trickery and subterfuge to tempt whichever mage lingers too long in the Fade, then seize his body in our world, making him dance like their puppet. Once they have that foothold, they capture and trick more mages, to amplify their power. They worry not for we 'little', non-magically-inclined folk at first... though if we get in their way, they will slay us, and thanks to the Era'harel weakening the Veil, lesser spirits can then use our carcasses to become Fade Shamblers."

"I knew not that you were a Fade Hunter, Knight," Ariaranni interjected, impressed.

"I did actually sign up at one point," Saralan shot back. "More respect, but too much discipline... and, well, lyrium addiction... for me. I listened to some of the more... dramatic lectures, though."

"Do continue," Ariaranni prodded.

"I said some of the lectures, hahren," he said with a shrug. "That is about the extent of my knowledge on the subject."

"You must know something more if you took even basic training with the Fade Hunters!" Tammen protested. Ariaranni pitied him; she liked the Third, and under normal circumstances he was a competent pilot, but he was clearly out of his element here. By the Dread Wolf, so am I, she thought. She was tempted to cut this line of questioning short for fear of the answers unnerving him further still, but in all honesty... she was curious too. Nothing had been normal since the instant they set foot on the Ven'Mahvir.

Saralan sighed, his scepticism making him reluctant to continue. "Well from what they told me, the abominations that result from a magi possession use their power to make more Era'harel, until they run out of mages. The stories of old tell us of great battles to contain they outbreaks, in which we 'regular' soldiers were all-but useless fodder. That is one of the reasons they take mages first; they are both the most susceptible to possession, yet also their biggest threat." He was quick to add: "those are, of course, just stories."

"How do we stop them?" Tammen said with a shuddering tone.

"Era'harel or not, we can stop nothing aboard the Hanal'ghilan from here," Saralan said, gesturing at their empty surroundings, then lifted his rifle confidently. "They had no lightrifles in the stories of old, though. I wager this makes me a little more formidable than bow-wielding ancients. To the Dread Wolf with mages."

"You think a gun can stop a Era'harel?" Tammen asked.

"It could not hurt," Saralan shrugged.

"But that would be the problem, sure..."

"Look ahead," Ariaranni whispered, gently reaching forward to halt Saralan in his tracks.

Saralan froze in place, for no good reason as his flashlight was giving away their position by default. Ariaranni found herself doing the same thing, though. It just seemed a natural reaction. There was an open door ahead, on the side of the corridor they wandered down, and like the last one there was a veilfire brazier burning, as though nothing were wrong. Exactly like the last one, in fact, were it not for the silhouette of a figure in front of the veilfire this time, motionless. The contrast of darkness against the backdrop of bright green veilfire made making out any detail on the jet-black figure impossible, but from its outline it appeared to be an Elvhen woman.

Ariaranni couldn't tell if she was facing them or not, but the combination of Saralan's flashlight and spooky tales combined with Tammen's terrified interrogation meant they weren't exactly being discrete. She didn't seem to respond to their presence though.

"Is that Isenril?" Saralan whispered back, keeping his rifle trained on her without moving the flashlight too much, just in case she hadn't noticed them.

"Her hair is too long," Ariaranni said after studying the figure for a few moments.

"Mother?" Tammen said, much too loudly.

"What?" Saralan whispered harshly, turning his head around as far as he dared to look at the seemingly-deranged Third.

"I thought you were taking the uthenera!" Tammen continued, seemingly ignorant of Saralan. Ariaranni nervously eyed the figure in case she had heard them, but she hadn't moved.

"No... of course I am glad you did not! But, how are... oh, of course! How foolish of me!" Tammen continued.

"Third, snap out of it!" Ariaranni snapped, punching his arm.

"Yes, show me! I have missed him so!" Tammen exclaimed excitedly, lurching forwards at a high speed. Saralan tried to grab him as he went past but was shoved out of the way nonchalantly.

"Get him, Knight!" Ariaranni yelled. Tammen reached the figure, who turned and casually walked through the open door with him. Saralan steadied himself and jogging towards the door with his rifle firmly raised, and strafed past the opening carefully. He jerked his flashlight from side to side, scanning the room, but shook his head and looked back at Ariaranni.

"There is nothing!" he said as the Commander caught up to him. She looked in, and he was correct... no Tammen, no mysterious woman, not even the furniture that had previously been in the room.

"Wait, what is that," Ariaranni said, grabbing the end of the rifle and pointing it towards the twinkle she saw. A vial, sat on a desk, on the ceiling.

"Perhaps I dismissed your Third's concerns too soon," Saralan said curiously, panning the light around the ceiling to find all of the rest of the furniture, including the staff that Ariaranni had misplaced earlier, also residing up there.

((Edited to remove response to Cultures above. Sorry, but I must march onwards!))

[Elvhen-an]

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; forecastle

The Emerald Knights held the throughway for now, the only way to reach the forecastle. Blue, magical barriers, hastily erected by the few surviving mages, blocked all of the side passages Merrill passed as she followed it. It made her short journey easier, but she wondered how long they would last against a horde of determined Fade Shamblers. Or worse, an Era'harel.

She reached her destination and, after checking to ensure she had not been followed, swiped her hand hurriedly across the rune in the bulkhead, prompting the heavy doors to clunk and whir open. She breathed sigh of relief as they closed behind her, though could not help but feel a pang of guilt at abandoning the defensive line her subordinates now so desperately fought over.

They need to know, and my place is in the forecastle, commanding my Knights, she reassured herself. Again.

Here the lights functioned normally, and unimpeded by the dark or by walking corpses it was a brisk walk through the narrower corridors that opened up into the forecastle. It was not the scene she expected to find. Felvin, the Fourth officer, arose from the marble command chair and turned to look over at her. Behind him, the da'eluvian showed the rippling image of the Ven'Mahvir, cruising silently through space. Other officers turned to look at her, cocking eyebrows. What a sight she must have been; panting, scuffed, her face glistening with sweat, eyes wide, rifle to hand.

"By the Dread Wolf, Knight-Captain, did you go for a jog around the ship?" Felvin asked.

Merrill eyed him, unsure as to how such chaos reigned not a few dozen elva'uthen behind her yet the forecastle was so calm. "You have heard nothing?" she asked moments later, in disbelief.

"No..." Felvin said. His face furrowed into a frown. "That is why we sent you to find out what the problem is. With the stones. You recall?"

"There is no problem with the stones, hahren," she said. "There is a problem with everything! Fade Shamblers are..."

"What?" Felvin interrupted her incredulously. "Knight-Captain, I will not entertain children's stories of demons and the walking dead. Have you been drinking?"

"No," Merrill said through gritted teeth. "My Knights have established a defensive line further down the throughway, but we mus..."

"Knight-Captain, if you insist on regaling me with this story like one touched by Fen'Harel, I shall have you secluded," Felvin interrupted once more. "Even if such things were true, we all know that Fade Shamblers do not arise without an Era'harel to open the way. Now if you..."

Merrill stopped listening to him, her mind harking back to the battle she had just left. The fireball that hit their makeshift fortification, that seemed to emanate from the Fade Shamblers, suddenly made sense. They did have a mage! This was a far worse problem than she feared.

"Shut up," she said resolutely, stifling whatever the Fourth was saying as he recoiled in surprise. She turned her glare to one of the officers to the side of him. "Let the records show that I, Knight-Captain Merrill of the Emerald Knights, have declared this situation a military emergency. In the absence of our Commander I am assuming command of the Hanal'ghilan, as is my duty. Please..."

"What do you think you are doing?" protested Felvin.

"You will sit down, stop interrupting me, and obey my orders," Merrill snapped, and shot him an unpleasant gaze. "Or Fade Shamblers will be the least of your concerns." Felvin looked around for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. Merrill didn't care for his power struggles. Bigger things were afoot. She looked back at the officer to his side. "How much of the ship still responds to the stones?"

"I... just the forward sections presently, hahren," the surprised officer stammered. Merrill didn't know his name. She didn't care to at this point.

"Rally the Knights," she told him, and shouldered her rifle determinedly. "Summon every mage that still draws his or her own breath. Have them all assemble at the fore-end of the throughway and report to me. See if you can raise my Fade Hunters - they have not been seen since I left the forecastle."

"Yes hahren," the officer nodded, rushing over to the set of stones mounted on a panel.

"Whatever you think is going on here, it is worse," Merrill told Felvin. "I believe there to be an Era'Harel aboard this ship. Perhaps more than one by now."

"An... Era'harel?" Felvin repeated slowly.

"Remain here. Try to reach Commander Ariaranni. Open the doors to no-one," Merrill said.

"Where are you going?"

"To where I can do the most damage," she answered simply, and left the forecastle.

---

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; deck four, amidships

Arrith and Seralora made for a potent team. Other Hunters had nicknamed the duo 'Arrilora', a portmanteau of their names that suggested they were inseparable.

They were twins, and their magical affinity was considered so strong that they could have become two of the most powerful mages in the Celestial Empire. But they chose to use that affinity in a different way; they enlisted as Fade Hunters. Enhanced with lyrium, they had turned their affinity to suppressing, not using, magic. Arrith and Seralora came from a family with a proud tradition of service, a family with many heroes from the days when Era'Harel were a constant threat to the Elvhen. They had never thought to have the opportunity to become one of them.

Many in the Empire thought their order - once its own, separate group but now relegated to being a division of the Emerald Knights - a superstitious hold-over from simpler times. They acquiesced to this change in command for it was the only way order could survive into the modern world, and even allowed themselves to be perverted into a mere 'special forces' branch. They never forgot their true purpose, though. Never stopped training for it. While others thought it superstition, they thought it duty. When the day came that it should become relevant once more, they would pursue that duty to the exclusion of all, Emerald Knights be damned.

A Fade Hunter knew their duty to be paramount. Mortal affairs were secondary when an Era'harel was at large.

They wore the same armour as the Emerald Knights, though with the crossed swords of the Fade Hunter order emblazoned on their left breast. They carried the same rifles too, though the twins had them mounted, in collapsed form, on their backs. They both carried swords of silverite instead, beautiful, glistening swords with engraved golden hilts.

A Fade Hunter knew their lyrium-edged sword to be the most effective weapon against the abominations of the Fade.

Their belts, earthy brown leather complementing the leafy green of their armour, were curiously devoid of the opalescent stones their brethren in the Emerald Knights carried. They could not be reached by the forecastle, their Knight-Captain, or anybody else.

A Fade Hunter knew not to carry speechstones when an Era'Harel was at large. The stones were not to be trusted.

The abandoned, darkened passageways they walked through, each step measured cautiously and placed determinedly, were littered with open doorways and side-passages, easy places for ambushes, yet the Fade Hunters made no apparent effort to check them for enemies.

A Fade Hunter knew to trust only their lyrium-enhanced magical senses when an Era'Harel was at large. Your eyes, ears, even your nose, were not to be trusted, for the abominations of the Fade would manipulate them to their own ends.

To Seralora's eyes, her brother appeared to have a faint, radiant aura of blue light about him, as all Fade Hunters did. It was beautiful. None but the Hunters could see it, not even mages, and the Era'Harel could not mimic it, not even in the Fade. It was more real to them than the deck they walked on, the only constant in their lives.

A Fade Hunter knew their brethren to be real if they saw their radiance. When an Era'Harel is at large, no-one else, friend or foe, should be recognised by sight alone.

When Arrith raised his left hand, she knew it was really him, more than she knew anything else, and she knew he was really raising his hand, for it had the same aura as the rest of him. He closed each finger into a fist save for his index finger, then made a jerking side-to-side motion before dropping his partially-closed hand diagonally to his right side. A Fade Shambler, alone, advancing to their right.

A Fade Hunter knew to communicate vital information by sign alone, for only that could be trusted to be real. When an Era'harel is at large, even one's words can be hijacked for nefarious purposes.

She watched her brother pass the junction without turning to check the other way. As she neared his previous position she sensed what he had sensed. Without looking, she pirouetted, slicing her lyrium-edged blade to her left. A Fade Shambler, once a young crewman but now a restless spirit in an empty corpse, caught the business end of her sword and was parted from shoulder-to-side, slumping silently to the ground. It did not rise again.

"That makes seven," she whispered, her high-pitched voice unbecoming of a soldier of legend.

"I thought six?" Arrith whispered back.

"Seven," she replied casually.

He seemed content with the answer, continuing forward. Their path led to the engine room, and their wake was filled with 'deactivated Fade abominations', as was their casual term for the creatures. They hoped to make more.

A Fade Hunter knew their mission to be the slaying of the Era'harel. To the exclusion of all other concerns must this be pursued, even life itself.

[The Fedral Union]

People often say space is big.

TAS Challenger DDEX 1450 Shipboard time..

The sleek angled Terran ship powered through the chaotic tidings and ripples of hyper space; it was a speck of gray surrounded in an aura of color caused by a cacophony of particles that cascaded around its form. These stream of particles eventually started trailing off behind the ship back in to the infinite dimension it traveled through. The Terrans were indeed a highly advanced civilization; man had long since burst from its chains of warmongering and forged chains of peace with many other races. The Challenger was metaphorically and literally an extension of the call for friendship and the curiosity that graced and infatuated the minds of so many of the races within the Alliances confines.

The Challenger was a Columbia class exploration destroyer a ship that while classified as a destroyer; had been primarily designed for exploration.


So here it was, on the far end of the galaxy putting some of the fastest hyper drive engines and advanced sensor equipment to good use. The CIC of the ship was like any of its class crowded with Human, alien, and drone alike in an orderly station configuration within a circular and slenderly designed command hub.

Captain Jacquline Semors ; a Tyrian Human by birth and an experienced officer who happened like her comrades on the other ships of the class to be well versed in the sciences and in exploration in general sunk in to her chair positioned in the middle of the CIC. Her mind networked with the other officers on the ship through incredibly the vast and complex AI.

-Long range scanners have picked up significant activity in sub sector grid (831,91,20). ; multiple ships its hard to ascertain the configuration of them .. It must be our lucky day eh?-

The ships AI spoke up with a nonchalant and brike male tone; it appeared as a male photoform to the crew the large projection table in the middle of the CIC zoomed in to the grid where the ship had detected the activity. Semors shifted slightly in her chair drumming her fingers upon the right arm rest; she constrained that bit of bright eyed excitement that swelled within her. Of course experience had taught her never to be so naive as to expect instant gratification of her curiosity nor to expect the best; it was a dangerous mission, some might say one of the most dangerous missions in Star command.

-”Well, plot an intercept vector and broadcast a message so they don't get spooked. Last thing we want is an incident. This could be a possible first contact situation.”-


Her first officer; a mantoid native to Savvara clicked his mandibles a few times speaking in that hurried tone that so often graced the multi limned hard shelled and compound eyed species. His name was Krako . IE.

-”Yes well. We should't have much trouble it seems.. no no,.. not at all.. We not if we send a general signal .. right? Correct?”-

Challenger nodded confidently.

-”I cant predict what we're about to get in to, sensors are picking up odd readings; the closer we get.. Its out of the ordinary...”-

Semors blinked, it seemed they may have stumbled upon more than just an idle alien contact situation; now her curiosity was piqued even more.

-”Bring us out at the edge of the system .. Are there any gas Giants in that system?”-

Semors Asked; challenger already knew why she was asking, it was thinking ahead and trying to plan for every contingency... But even with its vast mind and superluminal processing abilities, it was hardly infallible.

-”Telemetry from our scans has confirmed one Jovian class world in that location. I'm getting some interference however.”-

Semor's folded her hands on her lap, interference from what? She wondered they had some of the most advanced sensor technology in the fleet let alone the galaxy. Announcement was seeming less and less appealing.

IE chimmed in.


-”Well well... This may be quite exciting; Captian I am confident that if we can boost power to the main sensor grid we can cut through the interference.. It could be any thing.. No no ?-”

Semors nodded; she decided it was best to jump in with the measured approach and authorized the greeting message to be sent.

-”Lets get this over with; increase power to the sensor array and send out a general communique.”-

..

The Terran ship didn't take long to reach the system from its current location, a standard greeting had been sent.

Code: Select all

 =This is the Terran Alliance ship Challenger, to  alien ships. We mean you no harm and have detected activity in this system; so  in the spirit of exploration and friendship we greet you on behalf of the United Terran Alliance.

A single point at the edge of the system crackled open, a powerful burst of energy radaited outwards for a split second as a wormhole ; between the seemingly ethereal and and ever shifting realms of hyper space and normal space appeared. The wormhole lasted only second before flaring out and collapsing in to nothingness; but not before spitting out this angled slender ship. The Challenger came to a slow the cobalt blue streams of energy from its phase engines fading and warping as space bulged behind the ship pushing it forth slowly.

Beep beep beep..

Semor turned her head looking as the silhouettes of ships and objects appeared on the three dimensional display; it cycled through several filters, gravimetric; “simulated visual spectrum” infrared, dimension, meta-space.. The list went on the different colors clashed with the incandescent white lighting in the CIC .Even with the intense glow of some of the filters from the display trying to pierce the ambient lighting . Semor's soft and shoulder length black hair and black gold trimmed uniform's coloring never got lost in the confusion of light. And of course the images seen where seen differently by IE and many other species.
More power from the ships dimensional core began to be siphoned off from the power conduits toward the sensor array; higher resolution images and deeper and more penetrating scans could be achieved this way. And the crew of the ship hoped to gain more information on what they were seeing in front of them and cut through what ever might be interfering with their normal scans.

Already the AI began processing all sorts of information both statistical and, visual. Vectors, the speed of objects in the system, gravatic impacts and much more complex information even what was held folds of reality itself was probed and processed held in the ships data banks. Of course it was still unknown to what extent they could see who or what was out there; even with all the advanced equipment on-board.

I hope this post is adequate; note this is a single ship and highly specialized for its mission.. I look forward to seeing where this thread goes and what kind of adventure my little ship and its crew ends up enthralled in.

[Elvhen-an]

The two ships, brilliant white with elegant, alien, golden markings embossed upon them, cruised side by side through the black, momentum carrying them rather than engines. So far from the system's star, they were robbed of some of their lustre, but they were still beautiful vessels. Their graceful hulls looked almost like they had been sculpted or moulded rather than built, with no joints or panels visible, and both featured long, curved bodies with swept-back, blade-like protrusions on their aft quarters. Neither had windows or running lights. One of the ships was almost three times larger than the other, and much bulkier in every direction, though such had been accomplished without compromising its elegant design. The flagship, perhaps?

Scanning them would yield bizarre results, as though their innards were constantly being reorientated and shifted, and their power levels fluctuated between non-existent and off the charts. Likewise, one moment they appeared to be fully crewed with hundreds of lifeforms each, then the next they seemed abandoned. Were they armed? It was hard to tell; sometimes they were, sometimes they weren't. It was as though elements of the ships were fading in and out of existence, or being distorted by some other force that could not be detected. They looked perfectly normal to the naked eye, though.

While neither vessel made any move to indicate that they had seen their new visitor, the larger ship responded to the Terran hail, though not with radio. Indeed, it was unclear how the message was being transmitted at all, as there didn't appear to be any kind of signal, but the melodic voice of a woman emerged from the Challenger's CIC speakers nevertheless.

"Terran Alliance ship Challenger," repeated the disembodied woman. Her voice was harmonious, and under different circumstances it would doubtlessly be pleasing to listen to, but there was a peculiar flanging effect to it, as though somebody with a much deeper voice were faintly whispering the same words as she spoke them.

"I am Commander Ariaranni, of the Celestial Empire star cruiser Ven'Mahvir," she continued, in fluent galactic basic. She placed unusual emphasis on certain words, and it was unclear why. "It is a great honour for me to be the first Elvhen to speak to a non-Elvhenen life. I would be honoured to host a delegation from your ship aboard mine. You should come now."

---

Aboard Ven'Mahvir; decks thirty-two, four, and twelve, you are lost, surrender to your fate

"Do you ever get the feeling that we're walking in circles?" Saralan said as they approached the veilfire brazier outside the mage lab for the third time.

"We are not," Ariaranni shook her head in despair, her hair slapping her face in the process. "I have traced our steps carefully. I do not understand why we keep ending up here."

"'See the galaxy', they said," Saralan muttered under his breath, before announcing: "I think we have to stop approaching this logically. Something is manipulating us, turning us around. And we keep losing people to those... apparitions. We need a different strategy."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"I suggest we do nothing," Saralan said, and leaned casually against the bulkhead, the magical green flames of the veilfire casting dancing shadows across his face.

"That is hardly helpful."

"Think about it for a moment, hahren," he said. "Every move we make is turned against us. Every turn is the wrong one. Whatever is causing all this, if it's an Era'harel or just a weird space phenomenon we have never seen before, is getting exactly what it wants whenever we try to fight against it. And if what it wants is for us to be confused, then by the Dread Wolf it may have already won."

"That still does not explain how doing nothing helps us achieve anything," Ariaranni said.

"We are achieving nothing anyway," Saralan said. "But at least we will not be helping whatever force is at work achieve its own goals."

"True," Ariaranni nodded thoughtfully.

"And if there is a plan at work here, by not playing into it as it seems to want, we may force the entity's hand," Saralan added. "Make it show itself."

"Well, my feet are getting tired anyway," Ariaranni said jovially. She looked into the dimly-lit mage lab that they kept being pulled back to; all of the furniture was still on the ceiling, defying gravity and common sense. "Shall we take a seat?"

"Funny," Saralan said. He lowered his rifle and put it on the floor, barrel down, leaning against his leg. The effect of the flashlight being so close to the floor caused its light to reflect upwards, greatly improving the ambient illumination.

"I wish we had brought snacks," Ariaranni sighed, taking a spot next to the Emerald Knight.

"How long have we been here, anyway?" Saralan asked.

Ariaranni pulled up her pastel green sleeve and looked at a device on her wrist. She frowned and tapped it, then frowned again. "I set the mission clock before we left the shuttle, but only four seconds have elapsed..."

"And the furniture is on the roof, in a room that we arrive at no matter the direction we walk," Saralan joked. "The Ven'Mahvir seems to bend all of the rules of physics."

"I suppose," Ariaranni shrugged, flopping her arms back down to her sides.

"Ma vhenan, is it really you?"

A voice emerged from the dark. She turned to look, but couldn't see anything. A familiar, comforting voice, that she had not heard in three decades.

"Fenrel?" Ariaranni said nervously, leaning in that direction to try to get a better view.

"Ma vhenan!" Fenrel's voice repeated, excited this time. "I knew you would come."

The source of the voice stepped into the light, his angular features and mousy brown hair suddenly coming into view. He was as handsome as Ariaranni remembered.

"Fenrel! Thank Mythal you live!" Saralan turned to look at her as she ran into his arms. She felt his warm embrace, and felt at ease for the first time in decades. She had finally found her beloved, and he was alive. Thank Mythal indeed! Tears of joy flowed over her high cheekbones, as his muscular arms squeezed her tightly.

"Commander! Whatever you are seeing is not real!" Saralan's voice reached her ears, but it was muffled, distant. Unfamiliar.

Fenrel released her from the embrace, placing his hands on her narrow shoulders and looking into her bright green eyes. He stood a head taller than her, quite tall for an Elvhen, and made her feel so safe. A loving smile crept over his face. "It is so good to see you, ma vhenan. But we have to make the ship safe first. Can you do that for me?"

Ariaranni's wide eyes darted from side to side as she looked deeply into his eyes, and smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled at anything that wasn't a joke. The last time she smiled just because she was happy. Because something good was in her life. "Of course, Fenrel. I followed you across the galaxy - tracked you through the Fade! I would do anything you asked of me."

He nodded and closed his eyes, satisfied by her loyalty. He then frowned and looked past her. "That Emerald Knight is a fabrication, a creation of an Era'harel. It serves the Fade abomination that roams the Ven'Mahvir. It has been deliberately misleading you, so that you would not find me or the rest of the crew. You must destroy it. You must destroy it now, before it attacks."

Ariaranni turned away from her beloved, her hand clasping his until it fell from her shoulder, and withdrew the slender, black sidearm from her belt, aiming it at Saralan's chest. His expression indicated that he wasn't happy with that, and he skilfully kicked his rifle up into his hands. "Commander... what are you doing?"

"The will of my beloved, you abomination of the Fade," she said, spitting her words hatefully. "You shall trick me no longer! It is time to send you back where you belong."

That's great, as good a way to get involved as any!

[Elvhen-an]

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; 'The Line'

"Fill that gap!" Merrill roared, as one of her Knights took a lightning bolt square in the chest that threw him backwards, nearly knocking a mage from her feet. Two other Knights quickly rushed forwards, placing the barrels of their rifles against a Fade Shambler that immediately tried to clamber over the makeshift wall where a gap had opened and firing in unison; the creature found its torso sliced in twain by the pair of blue beams, falling back into the crowd. It writhed on the floor, but did not die.

Merrill fired a few hissing shots of her own into the horde, before pointing towards one of the mages who now leaned against a wall, panting and trying to recover some of his energy. "You, fall back to the rally point! Take an injured man with you and send forward replacements, quickly!" she ordered, struggling to be heard above the noise. As the exhausted mage nodded and began hobbling further back down the throughway, grabbing an injured Knight, she looked back across the battlefield that had developed within the belly of their own ship. Some of the Fade Shamblers knocked back by another mage's gust of wind looked familiar to her, and it wasn't just because they had once been members of the crew - she was sure they had been slain once before.

I am going to run out of men before we can get these things to stay dead! she thought to herself.

"Incoming!" a voice screamed to her right. Several Knights dove beneath cover and she quickly followed suit as she saw the fireball they were trying to avoid. It exploded mere metres from her head, thankfully upon a fairly solid metal container that slid backwards from the impact. Immediately, a number of Fade Shamblers attempted to force their way through the resultant gap. Merrill leapt to her feet and helped several Knights force the large container back into its position, as Knights on either side tried to force the creatures back with the butts of their rifles.

They weren't fast enough; two of the Shamblers latched their pale hands firmly upon one of the Knights' shoulders and pulled her to the ground, then promptly dragged her through the gap on her back. She kicked and screamed futily as they sank teeth and nail into any exposed skin they could find. The Knights Merrill was helping looked at her for guidance, unsure as to whether they should continue pushing the container or try to help. She nodded solemnly, and renewed her pushing. The screams stopped in short order.

The container was back in its position, the gap in their fortification closed for now, and the Knights quickly moved from pushing to firing over the top of it. Merrill watched forlornly as the Knight on the other side scrambled to her feet limply, rifle still dangling from the strap around her neck, and advanced with the other Shamblers. Further down the throughway, she could see more of the creatures filing into the wide passage to join those already taking part in the onslaught.

And even over the noise of battle, she was sure she could hear whispering. Unintelligible, but omnipresent and distinct from any of the other sounds that raged around them.

Another fireball crashed into the fortifications further down, scattering the Knights who had stood near them, and their comrades rushed to drag them out of the way.

"Get away from her, now!" Merrill yelled, jogging over to the disarrayed crowd. One of the Knights hadn't survived the explosion. "Assist me!" She took one of the perished Knight's arms, still smoldering from the flame attack, and the others saw what she was doing and helped her pick the body up. The adrenaline helped her to hold back tears as they hoisted the limp body of their fallen comrade over the top of the fortification and let it drop to the floor on the other side.

Moments later, the body stood by itself and began aiding the Fade Shamblers. Those who were able resumed firing over the top. Their fallen Knight took a hit to the chest, scorching her green armour. She continued anyway.

"We cannot win this..." Merrill said to herself.

Knight Fenrian, one of the few Knights not yet injured, overheard her and looked back. "Each time we lose a Knight, they gain an armoured ally!" he said to her.

"I am aware of that!" Merrill snapped. She looked around at the ever-more-hopeless battle, and made her decision. "Emerald Knights, we are leaving!" she yelled at the top of her voice. "Fenrian and Garlan, help the injured! The rest of you, fall back and cover them! Half and half line, staggered withdrawal!"

Looking somewhat relieved, the remaining Knights fired several extra volleys into their crowd for good measure while Fenrian and Garlan, with the help of the slightly-less-injured Knights and a couple of mages, began dragging the injured to their feet roughly and leading them back down the throughway as fast as they could. Once they were far enough away, half of the Knights dropped back from the fortifications and ran towards the forecastle, Merrill among them, leaving the other half firing desperately over the top. They then stopped running a short way along, dropped to their knees and pivoted back to provide cover fire while the rest similarly took flight, running further back still. They too stopped, dropped to their knees, and turned to provide cover, but were presented with silence.

Merrill rose to her feet after a few moments, standing on her tip-toes to peer down the throughway, past the makeshift fortifications they had just abandoned, which were curiously free of Fade Shamblers. The entire throughway was empty, with naught but scorches and splashes of blood on bulkheads to show for the tooth-and-nail battle they had been waging not seconds before.

"By the Dread Wolf..." Merrill muttered, taking a few steps forward. Fenrian moved beside her, not taking his eyes off the barricade.

"Where have they gone?" he asked rhetorically. She waved her hand dismissively, taking a few steps forward, aiming her rifle down one of the side passages. The blue barrier that had flickered across the passage, placed there by their mages to try and keep the enemy out of this half of the throughway, remained firmly in place, though it had curiously changed its hue to a greener shade. She looked back over her shoulder. Knights were still on their knees in two staggered lines, waiting cautiously for something to happen. Further back, four robed mages stood ready, their staffs raised, while a couple of others were still helping the injured to retreat.

"It's the mages..." she said quietly, trailing off. She then abruptly raised her rifle. "Mages! Drop your staffs, now! Knights, get away from them!"

Surprised by the order, the Knights took a few moments to stand up, turn around and look back at the mages. The two mages who were helping the injured seemed surprised by the sudden distrust, and stopped in their tracks, staffs clattering to the ground. Those helping with the defence, however, continued to stand ready, staffs in hand, and all looked at Merrill intently.

"You are making a mistake, Knight-Captain," one of the mages said calmly. "We are all on your side."

"Then you will comply with my order," Merrill said, her rifle firmly aimed at the mage. What was his name - Geron? "Drop. The. Staff."

"You know as well as I that I need not this staff to be a threat," Geron said. His voice sounded odd. Distorted. By this point, the other Knights had followed her lead and aimed their rifles at the mages.

"I never used the word 'threat', mage," she retorted.

"No, you did not," the mage said with a smile, before frowning. "You arrogant creature. You visit us each night. You use our home as your plaything. You experiment with it. And you think yourselves safe. You think us contained by your petty magic and your dainty trinkets."

"Is Geron a..."

"Yes Knight, I think he is," Merrill replied.

"Are you tired, Knight-Captain?" Geron asked, stepping forward. Merrill found herself suddenly unable to stop yawning. "You look so tired. So many of your friends have fallen this day... so much fighting... it must be exhausting!"

"What... oooooaaaah... be quiet, creature!" Merrill snapped, shaking her head vigorously to try and keep her eyes open.

"You must envy those who have fallen. They can finally stop fighting," Geron said slowly, tilting his head to one side. Merrill was unable to break his gaze, and found her tilting her head. "Would it not be lovely to just... have a reeest?"

"Yes, I... oooooooaaah... I am quite tired..."

"Knight-Captain!" Fenrian's voice sounded like it was at the edge of a dream, as she felt herself drop to her knees.

"Then sleep, child," the reverberating voice sounded comforting. "I will keep your people safe. You can have a niiice, looong, reeest."

"Thank... oooooooaaah... thank you, that would... oooooooaaah... that would be nice," Merrill struggled to speak between yawns.

Before she knew what had happened, Merrill sat bolt upright, panting, as though waking from a terrible dream. She looked around, though her surroundings too dark for her to see much aside from a flickering green light near an open doorway behind her.

Is that veilfire? Where am I?

[Natornic Cultures]

(OOC: I am sorry for my absence. Much has been going on in my life, getting ready for College and such. I intended to reply earlier, but you know... life happens. I'll still assume that you responded. If you don't think it is appropriate, I will find a way to work around the issue.)

"They're... Elves." the XO muttered. "We thank you for your hospitality, Commander. I will have a shuttle take me and a group of commandos aboard to act as a sweep team and diplomatic escort. I feel that our meeting here will extend beyond words, however. Something dark is happening aboard your lost star cruiser, and we came to investigate just what it is. I will tell you more in person what our scanners picked up... and something that shocked me regarding this situation we both have. See you soon, commander. Admiral Anderson, out." The holo-communications link is closed. "I'll prepare the shuttle immediately." The XO says.

Hangar Bay - UGSF Dreadnaught Scinfaxi

"Ready to go, Admiral?" the shuttle pilot asks. "Aye. The commander aboard the other star cruiser wants to see me." Dol replied. They and the commandos enter the shuttle, and lift off.



A few moments later they enter the hangar of the Ven'Mahvir, and with the appropriate procedures, make their approach, and begin landing. The landing struts lower, and the shuttle touches down. As the ion drives shut down, the loading ramp lowers and the Admiral walks out, followed by his Commandos who are acting as diplomatic escort.

(Making the post short so that things can catch up.)

[The Fedral Union]

Challenger frowned as thoughts raced within that seemingly endless capacity of his mind ; the avatar crossed its arms over its chest and began pacing lightly. The command staff was baffled at what the AI was thinking each of them sinking in to their respective seats.

-”They seemed quite instant; Challenger. What do the sensors say?”-

The avatar glanced to captain Semors; the entirety of the holographic projection from the table shifted in to various different spectrum's and finally settled on one. It showed both ships; they seemed to be ever shifting ever shattering and recombining. It was as if they were displayed like roman mirrors; Semors let out an exasperated sigh.

Challenger began its explanation; its tone was frank and to the point; any real excitement drained from its voice.

-”As you can see here; these ships, and who ever is on them seem to be phase shifting in some manner. I cant tell whats creating the effect. It could be either innate to their ships construction a device or, the center of an anomaly-”

Semors leaned in to the silhouette her left brow furrowing as she examined the two ships displayed before her. Her mind wandered for a few seconds; this was either the beginning of making contact with one of the many wonders that graced the universe; or one of the many “daemons” that awaited sapient-kind after each star system. This all of course was a risk they knew of and had to come to grips with when they put on their uniforms and accepted their assignments. But it didn't make decisions like this any easier. She waved her hand to IE and Challenger her eyes never waning from the display ahead; the almost soulless sound of the other ships response still resonating in her mind.

-”I think we can all agree there is no way in hell a standard person can survive being transported over; and with the shifting that seems to be prevalent a shuttle mission is out of the question. Tell me Challenger do you think you can project yourself on to the responding ship with an avatar?”-

The ships AI nodded gently it placed a hand upon the holographic display table its fingers drummed against the sleek metal frame. It would be a paltry matter to make modifications to the containment beam that would beam challengers avatar over as if the AI were a specter or ghost. But even an AI as powerful as challenger was couldn't account for the infinite number of variables that seemed to be present. It was risky but at worst the ship would just loose that projection and not the AI; at least that's what challenger hopped would happen.

-”I'll modify the projection beam to match the phase variance.... It should allow to me materialize without too much degradation to my photoform... To be blunt captain; I'm not especially comfortable with the situation..-”

Semor shrugged; there was little reason to go back on their own grasp for communication nor to refuse an invitation that they'd gotten from the celestial ship she replied in her standard professional yet inquisitive tone just as her lips curled up in to a smile.

-”Well don't tell me your getting cold feet? Didn't you sign up for this job eh? .. We'll signal the ship and let them know we're sending you over; if there is anything amiss make sure you shunt information through our secondary data buffer; I don't want any unexpected information making a muck of things. “-

Challenger merely grinned ; he made a snark remark and motioned a hand.


-“ You know I wouldn't let anything come through... If you didn't you could consider it a mutiny.”-

Challenger laughed slightly; he was of course joking and Semors just rolled her eyes motioning IE to send the message.

” This is the Terran Allaince Ship Challenger; we've received your message. We're sending an avatar of our AI.. The amount of phase shifting would make it too dangerous for us to send flesh and blood; but I assure you hes just as … well if not more capable than we are... We're going to attempt to match your phase modulation to initiate the transfer.


Challenger looked at IE, who was clicking his mandibles and using a pair of his forearms to manipulate a few holo console interfaces; all the mean while the ships sensors homed in and continually scanned and scanned gathering as much data as they could. Something was off; but IE couldn't put his claw on it, nonetheless after a split second the frequencies were matched in tandem. It didn't take any longer for the handsome form of the ships avatar to shimmer out of existence; in mind he was still in the ships vast complex network of intertwining an ever thinking and processing computer core; in body the sum of those abilities would materialize as a Terran male at his destination in full uniform. It would be as out of thin air; from pure thought this photoform who looked absolutely flesh and blood would appear; unarmed and ready to begin what ever discussions lay ahead.


IE clicked his claws and waited; along with the rest of the crew. Semors kept her eye upon the projector before her and the AI monitor above her; she idly drummed a finger gently against her cheek. Her eyes focusing and waiting. She used her free hand to motion the ships AI by now split between body and ship to raise the shielding. Not a word needed to be uttered not a command needed to be given; this wasn't of course meant to be a hostile move, but any commander worth his or her weight would always make sure their ship was defended in case of any unintended consequences. The defense fields of the science ship crackled to life; but no more than that. Its weapons were inactive still within their pop up bays its form floated silently in the voice of space to one side a great gas giant with multicolored rings in its clouds; to the other empty darkness and in front a ways off; the two gilded and magnificently crafted elven ships.

In the middle of all this all sorts of data was starting to come in; weather it would be useful right-away was another matter but at least they could get a picture or start to get a picture of who these people are or what they might be. The expectation of curiosity surged within the crew; the excitement and almost adrenaline inducing climax to the situation of unavailing who they were speaking too and what they got themselves in too almost cracked the facade of Semors and some other officers ; even IE with his constantly thinking and connection making mind processes couldn't help but hold back a strain of excitement or horror if this all turned out to be their demise; he couldn't quite tell.

[Elvhen-an]

Better late than never, huh?

Aboard Ven'Mahvir; decks 1, 9, 10, and 113, in the Great City of Arlathan, the Perilous Depths of the Deepest Black, you will not escape

The holographic form of the Terran's AI materialised in the main throughway of Ven'Mahvir. Darkness reigned, though the lights flickered on from time to time, and sparks from damaged circuitry - seemingly the victims of weapons-fire from a three-decades-ago battle and never repaired - occasionally illuminated the wide corridor.

All around, there were rotting, desiccated corpses, standing upright though slumped over. Some had no skin, others were missing limbs, and all appeared to be in various states of decomposition; the smell, if a hologram could smell, would have been grotesque. They didn't move, or even appear notice the appearance of the hologram. They seemed dormant for the most part, aside from the occasional twitch and groan. There were hundreds of them, as far as the eye could see in either direction, as though the entire crew of this large vessel had succumbed to whatever had caused this.

Three seemingly more recent arrivals than these standing corpses appeared to be lying on the floor near a wide, open doorway that led to a nearby airlock. Two were females dressed in formal-looking green uniforms, and the third was a man dressed in green armour, with a sophisticated rifle - complete with an active flashlight - lying on the deck next to him, presumably dropped when he fell down. At first glance they appeared to be either dead or in a deep state of unconsciousness, but they certainly weren't half-desiccated like the ones standing all around them. On closer examination, they were indeed alive, though one of the women was near-death, and periodically twitched, while the other was suffering from an elevated heart rate, as though she were under a great deal stress. Only the armoured man seemed healthy, or at least not in any great deal of immediate peril.

A few moments after the hologram appeared, a loud, methodical, heavy banging noise began to echo down the lengthy throughway, as though something quite large were walking towards it from the far end of the ship.

---

In space

As the hologram witnessed all of this, the Ven'Mahvir's magical barriers were suddenly deployed, a greenish aura enveloping its elegant hull, and another - much shorter - message was sent back to the Challenger:

"Terran Alliance ship Challenger," the voice announced. This time it was not the curiously-echoed voice of a female, but a guttural, determined, and seemingly very angry voice of no discernible gender."You have made a mistake. We need your crew, not your synthetic abomination."

Moments later, three shuttles emerged from the smaller ship one after the other, all heading in the direction of Challenger, and the distortions and phasing that had thus far been localised to the two ships before them, now began to grow in both size and intensity.

---

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; forecastle

Felvin wasn't sure what to do. The Knight-Captain had never returned, and the doors to the throughway were being pounded by whatever was on the other side. It sounded like some giant beast was trying to ram its way into the forecastle. The few mages they had left in the fore-end of the ship were still in control of the runes that worked the doors, thankfully, and had repelled attempts to open them for now. But they were losing control over every other system of the ship.

Which was frustrating. The da'eluvian displayed something that, on any other day, would have been amazing to them - a ship of alien origins, hovering near them as though it had always been there. Now it was their potential savior, rather than something to be curious about, but they could not communicate with it. Worse still, the mages believed something was communicating with it instead, as they had sensed magic being used to simulate regular communications. They had no idea what was being said to these aliens, only that the 'signal' originated from the Ven'Mahvir.

Felvin had to believe it was Commander Ariaranni, somehow now in charge of the lost vessel.

"I think the hangar just sent out three shuttlecraft," a confused voice came from the other side of the forecastle. Sure enough, Felvin looked to the da'eluvian and saw three of the small craft leaving their mothership behind and heading for the alien ship. Whatever was aboard them, he doubted it was a diplomatic overture.

"Weapons?" Felvin asked, knowing it was futile. They had little control left of even the most basic systems at this point. If they could shoot them down, however, it might demonstrate they were resisting, rather than being the perpetrators, of whatever was going on here.

"No, hahren," the voice replied after a few moments.

---

Aboard Ven'Mahvir; you are safe, just let go, just die

Knight-Captain Merril heard voices. They were coming from beyond the doorway that veilfire light was pouring in through. She rose to her feet as quickly as she dared, shaking off the stabbing pain in her skull as she did so, and walked cautiously towards it. As she rounded the corner she saw the sources of the voices.

"Put your weapon down, Commander!" one of her Emerald Knights yelled, his rifle firmly pointed ahead of him. "It's me! Saralan!"

"You are an abomination and I will stop you!" Commander Ariaranni yelled back. The Commander was aiming her sidearm at the Knight, her arms trembling and her eyes wide with fear. Merril could see another figure, lurking in the shadows behind the Commander, but could not make out who or what it was. It seemed to be whispering into the Commander's ear, though it noticed Merril and recoiled slightly, shrinking back deeper into Ariaranni's shadow to avoid her gaze.

Knight Saralan noticed Merril emerge from the doorway, bathed in the green light of the flickering veilfire, but didn't take his eyes off the Commander for more than a moment. "Knight-Captain, what are you doing here?!"

Commander Ariaranni noticed her too, and her sidearm now flitted between her and Saralan. Merril cautiously placed her hand on the grip of her own sidearm, making no sudden moves.

"What's going on here, Knight?" Merril asked, looking at Commander Ariaranni with a degree of trepidation.

"Your guess is as good as mine hahren!" he replied.

"You are both abominations!" Ariaranni shouted. "Stay away from my love and I!"

"Commander, I am Knight-Captain Merril, and this is Knight Saralan," Merril said calmly. "You know us."

"I knew you!" she replied.

Merril yanked her sidearm out suddenly and aimed it at the Commander. "If you fire on my Knight, I will fire on you, Commander."

"I'd rather nobody fired anything," Saralan protested.

Ariaranni seemed unsure, her hand lowering slightly. A whisper in her ear from the dark figure behind her seemed to reassure her again - she lifted her hand, and went to fire her sidearm at Merril.

The Knight-Captain fired first. A blue beam lanced at her commanding officer, striking her in the shoulder. Merril had hoped to injure, not kill, the Commander - to her surprise, the Commander disappeared in a flash of blue light, as though her sidearm had suddenly become a nuclear weapon. She and Saralan stood in confused silence for a moment or two, before Saralan turned to her.

"We are fighting the Fade, Saralan," Merril said cryptically. "Do not ask me to explain what is going on at this point."

[The Fedral Union]

Challenger furrowed an eye ridge ; this wasn’t exactly the reception she was expecting. Nonetheless she indulged what ever “presence” had spoken to her. She scanned the area around her looking from wall to wall deck to bulkhead.

“Why? Why do you need our crew?”

Challenger asked in a collective and calm manner, though in all honesty it was a bit of a facade; even a being such as herself couldn’t get away from a small bit of gnawing apprehension. Challenger through her continual link with the ship already knew through that vast complex network of processing units and sensors that this ship had launched several small craft.

{Enycrpt}

“I’m not sure whats going on here captain, but I can say this; they sure didn’t roll out the red carpet for me. I’m detecting shuttle craft incoming on an approach vector. I hope you see them too?”

Semors quickly glanced at the central holo projector; her eyes widened slightly as faint signals became stronger with each passing moment. She sunk in to her chair drumming her fingers upon the armrest to the right of her. She replied to challenger; that knot that was in her abdomen twisting once more in suspense.


Well this just got a whole lot more interesting. It doesn't sound like they want to be best friends now does it? bring our weapons systems onlie- She was cut off by challenger-

“I think we should move behind the jovian planet in this system I can set up a scattering field around our ship that might make them lose track on us. At least temporarily..”


-Semors let out a sigh she glanced to her other officers, there was little time to act or consult her staff. The flood of questions everyone had had to wait, Semors nodded agreeing to the avatars suggestion.-

“Do it, scan for life signs on those shuttles, we’re going to get to the bottom of this on way or the other.”{/Encrypt}

The avatar let out a sigh of relief, the Challenger nimbly turned to face the Jovian moon, its phase engines humming to life until they crackled with energy. Jets of cobalt blue shot out from the back of the challenger fading in to the rippled darkness expanding behind the ship . The Challenger vectored into orbit of the large planet. They hopped that the scattering field along with the planet's energy and magnetic field would shield or at least confuse the incoming shuttles; while at the same time the Challenger reached out with its sensors in an attempt to uncover any life signs.



The Challenger and her crew, for now where ignorant of the intricate and strange situation aboard these elven ships. No doubt things would get stranger and stranger, how long they would be able to h stave off getting personally caught up in what ever was going on The lack of a coherent reply from the people on the ships alarmed Challenger and the commanding officers. The tension on board the ship to say the least was rampant; every single officer could feel the atmosphere tighten around them; they were all trained to deal with unknowns but until they came to face to face with the realities of exploring they were content in leaving bizarre or strange things as a mere concept to be imagined.

[Elvhen-an]

Aboard Ven'Mahvir; throughway

"You seek to protect your crew, do you not?" the voice responded to the Terran avatar, whispers surrounding its guttural tone as though children were speaking imperceptibly at the same time. Its tone then changed back to the female voice it had used before, placing unusual emphasis on different words."We want to make them happy. Why do you stop us?"

The loud, methodical thudding sound in the distance continued to draw closer to the avatar, though, clearly the footsteps of something large walking towards the projection. Its source could not be seen in the darkness at this distance, and like everything else on the ship, it eluded proper scans. It was a humanoid one moment, then an automated repair drone the next, then nothing at all.

Near the avatar, among the three unconscious bodies nearby, the near-death woman suddenly convulsed one final, vigorous time, and let out a deep, sighing breath. She simply died with no apparent cause. The other unconscious woman, with the elevated heart rate, suddenly began to experience the same periodic twitching the now-dead woman had been exhibiting when the avatar first arrived, and her lifesigns began to dwindle. The male body remained stable, though unconscious.

The shambling corpses continued to take no notice of either the Terran avatar or the unconscious bodies nearby, nor did they seem to notice the ever-nearer thudding of whatever was approaching.

---

In space

The Challenger's sensors would find no life aboard the approaching shuttles, even as they escaped from the growing distortions that radiated out from the Ven'Mahvir. They, in turn, made no effort to scan their destination as it moved away from them. Instead, they seemed to be homing in on the ship even as it tried to evade them, as though navigating with something other than sensors.

One of the shuttles sent out a standard hail to the Challenger, but it contained the words of no living person; it was a pre-recorded greeting message in the Elvhen language, that would doubtlessly make little sense to them.

---

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; engine room

Seralora and her twin brother had made their way to their destination - the Hanal'ghilan's engine room. It was a large, two-tiered affair, with the primary reactor dominating the aft wall, control consoles lining the surrounding walls, and a square catwalk overlooking the whole affair. Normally bustling with Elvhen engineers, the room now bustled with a different kind of life.

Hidden from view by the arch of an open side entrance, Seralora peered out as much as she dared, while her brother guarded her rear. She was confused by the activities now taking place in the room, unable to comprehend what her eyes showed her. Nothing she saw made sense. Fade Shamblers, those mindless corpses inhabited by lesser spirits, were seemingly undertaking manual labour, carrying pieces of equipment around as quickly as their lumbering gait would allow. Even more strangely, some of them seemed to be wielding tools, doing something to the dormant reactor core. Guarding them were two of the most malicious and powerful Fade Abominations known to exist stood by the door; spirits of envy, their bodies twisted in such a way that would seem to break their spines, as their legs passed over the heads and formed spikes that rested on the ground while their arms held them up.

While this was highly unusual, and nothing they knew of the history of Fade abominations could explain their current activities, Seralora focussed more on what was taking place just in front of the reactor. A semi-circle of Era'harel, at least twelve of them, stood around the huge power plant. They were undertaking some kind of ritual, their mutated flesh pulsating with mana as their arms rose and fell methodically, almost like the twisted creatures were worshiping the thing.

For a moment, she wondered if her eyes were deceiving her - if this was an Era'harel illusion. After all, a Fade Hunter knew to trust only their lyrium-enhanced magical senses when an Era'Harel was at large. Your eyes, ears, even your nose, were not to be trusted, for the abominations of the Fade would manipulate them to their own ends. Or so The Lesson said. But what would they gain from making her see this scene? How would this trick her? Her magical senses certainly confirmed that the creatures were all in the places they seemed to be, moving as she saw them to be, so as a tactical illusion it was poor at best.

She pulled her head back into cover, looking at her brother, relieved as she always was to see the glowing blue aura that appeared to surround him. He looked back at her, and made a gesture. What did you see?, he asked her in sign language.

All she could do was respond with a shrug. He frowned, and motioned for them to switch places. She stepped aside silently, and he took her place while she focussed her senses on the corridor behind them, making sure nothing could sneak up on them. After a few moments he pulled his head back, and signaled a similar level of confusion.

Regardless, there were too many of the abominations for just the two of them to deal with, and they agreed to pull back.

"I do not know what I just saw," Arrith whispered once they were safely away.

"Twelve Era'harel worshiping a reactor," Seralora said, twisting her fair features into a smile. "What is unusual about that?"

Arrith carefully opened a maintenance hatch, and they both filed inside. This close to the focal point of the Era'harel incursion, they had taken to using maintenance passages to move around, as the Fade abominations did not seem to be venturing into them. "Do you recall anything from The Lessons about Shamblers being used as manual labour?"

"No," Seralora shook her head. She reached a junction, and focussed her magical senses on either direction as she passed, finding it to be safe without even looking. She pressed on. "Nor can I think of a reason why Era'harel would worship a reactor."

Seralora felt Arrith stop in his tracks, and turned to see why. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Some kind of arcane ritual, maybe? Souping up the reactor with magic?"

"Why would they want to... oh," Seralora stopped herself. "Oh no."

"They are building another Fade Drive," Arrith nodded.

"We have to regroup with the others," Seralora said. She turned back, looking around as she tried to figure out the way. "We have to take the engine room back before they can finish it. Whatever the cost."

A Fade Hunter knew their duty to be paramount. Mortal affairs were secondary when an Era'harel was at large.

---

Aboard Ven'Mahvir; DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

"What do you mean, we're fighting the Fade?" Saralan asked.

"What do you think I mean, soldier?" Merril snapped back. She led them through the corridors once again, and already they were finding it difficult to navigate. They had pried one door open only to find it leading into the corridor they were already in. She found his confusion at the concept to be incredulous, based on the evidence.

"I don't feel like I'm dreaming," Saralan said.

"Do you feel like you are dreaming when you are dreaming?" Merril asked. She stopped by another door, and holstered her weapon. "Help me."

The two began to pull at the closed door, ignoring its whines of protest as they forced its motors to let the doors open. "Well I'd like to think I'd know."

"It's the only way to explain all this," Merril said. "How did I get here? I didn't take a shuttle. I just awoke here. Why did the Commander disappear when we fired on her? Because these are not real weapons. Why doesn't the layout of the Ven'Mavhvir make any sense? Because we're not really here."

"I took a shuttle here," Saralan said between grunts.

"I didn't," Merril repeated. "One minute, I was fighting Era'harel on the Hanal'ghilan, the next, I was here."

"You were... what?"

"We have some problems back on the ship," Merril said dismissively. "I'll tell you about it when we're out of this mess."

With a successful yell, they both forced the heavy metal doors apart and pushed each side back as far as it would go. Saralan was about to step through until he saw what was at the other side. A verdant green meadow, surrounded by forest. He felt a cool spring breeze waft through the door, carrying floral aromas with it, and heard birds chirruping from among the trees. He looked down at the floor, still standing on the metal deck plates of the Ven'Mahvir, which seemed to stop immediately and give way to grass exactly where the door opening was.

Was that the countryside outside of Arlathan?

"Now do you see?" Merril said. She grabbed the collar at the back of his armour and pulled him away from the door. "We are being tempted. Commander Ariaranni thought her vhenan'ara was alive and well. And you want to go home. And so there is home."

"But..."

"Probably a spirit of sloth," Merril continued, remembering back to the stories her father used to tell her. "They force your mind into the Fade, then try to trick you into being contented. Then their allies take over your body in the real world."

She pulled Saralan further away from the door, removing her sidearm from its holster with her other hand.

"So how do we get out of here?" Saralan asked.

"How do you wake yourself up?" Merril replied.

"I don't know."

"What were you doing before I arrived?" Merril asked. "Before that stand-off with the Commander, I mean."

"The Commander and I were trying to reach the forecastle."

"Trying?"

"Yes," Saralan said. "Now that I think about it, the ship itself seemed to be working against us the entire time. We ended up going in circles."

"That's probably significant," Merril said thoughtfully. "Maybe we will find a way out there."

"But how will we get there, hahren?" Saralan protested.

"Carefully."

---

The Great City of Arlathan, The Celestial Empire of Elvhen'an

Ariaranni awoke with a start, bolting upright in her bed. She looked around for a few moments in panic, wiping sweat from her brow and trying to catch her breath. Everything seemed normal; her marble-walled bedroom was partially lit by the dawn sunlight hitting the white, partially-drawn curtains and casting an odd yellow glow on everything. To her left lay her vhenan'ara, Fenrel, still fast asleep, wrapped in the soft, downy blanket of their bed.

Had it all been a dream?

She slipped out of the covers, wrapped herself in a nightgown, and walked towards the window. Pulling the curtains aside she poked her head out of the tall, arched window and felt the cool air of spring on her face. The beautiful cityscape of Arlathan lay beneath her, its white and gold spires drenched in the morning sun. Further down the streets glowed green, still illuminated by veilfires as they waited for the sun to peer over the buildings and light them up. It was silent except for birdsong; nobody was awake yet.

Reaching up she clutched her shoulder, which stung and felt a little numb. Was I shot?

"Are you alright?" a deep, soothing voice asked. She turned to see Fenrel, propping himself up on his elbow in the bed. The feelings of fear and confusion washed away immediately, and she smiled widely.

"I am now, ma'arlath," she said, walking back to kneel next to the bed, placing a kiss on his lips. "A bad dream, is all."

"The Ven'Mahvir again?" Fenrel asked.

"Yes."

Fenrel looked away from her, towards the far wall. Above the fireplace hung two framed medals, issued to them for their heroics in solving the incident. "It was hard on us all. I always knew you would save me, ma'arlath."

"Of course," Ariaranni nodded, and stood up. "It shall pass. Would you like some breakfast? We can have it in bed."

"You spoil me," Fenrel said with a smile.

"I shall return in a moment," Ariaranni said. She tied her nightgown closed as she moved to leave the bedroom. At last, everything is perfect.

[Elvhen-an]

Dorf'bor'assan Restaurant, The Plaza - the Great City of Arlathan, the Celestial Empire of Elvhen'an

Ariaranni sat quietly at her table outside the Dorf'bor'assan', an ancient and popular eatery in the central plaza of Arlathan. The quaint stone building, largely unchanged since originally built centuries earlier, bore an unusual silhouette compared to the more modern, glistening buildings of marble and gold that surrounded it, towering above it - like part of the city had been trapped in a time warp, while everything around it moved with the times. Only three storeys high, with traditional wood-framed windows, walls of grey stone, and a roof of slate, it had gone from being a simple tavern to becoming a high-end destination for members of the Elder Council and other VIPs in central Arlathan.

It was past midday, and the outdoor seating area - a fenced-off, slightly raised area in front of Dorf'bor'assan with a great view of The Plaza - was largely empty now, with a couple of the dozen or so tables still cluttered with the empty plates and tankards of previous diners. Ariaranni was content to remain, as the sun was still pleasingly warm and the pleasant aroma of fresh-cut felandaris lingered in the air. That Fenrel had just returned to their table with renewed glasses of elvare'hamin, a fruity alcoholic drink popular on Elvhen'an, only made the afternoon more pleasant.

"Here, emma'lath," he said, placing them down on the table. The table seemed almost sculpted out of stone, balancing on a single pillar that expanded into a half-sphere where it touched the ground, and the glasses clinked as they were placed on its smooth, tiled surface.

"Ma serannas," Ariaranni thanked him, taking the glass. The sweet flavour made a perfect day seem even more perfect. She reclined in the cushioned metal chair and sipped the rosy red liquid a few more times, bathing in the sun. But no matter how relaxed she was, or how perfect the day seemed, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off, somehow.

"So, what shall we do now?" Fenrel said. "To the meadows for a picnic?"

"Perhaps tomorrow," she said. "I want to speak to Ganar."

"Keeper Tanarel's aide? Why?"

"Just to check in, really, make sure everything is fine," she said. "We are still officers of the Celestial Navy, after all."

Fenrel furrowed his brow, causing his pointed ears to twitch slightly. "We are not. We resigned, two years ago in fact."

Had it really been two years? Everybody kept talking about it as though it was ancient history, but to her it felt like it was only yesterday that she stared at the Ven'Mahvir on the Hanal'ghilan's da'eluvian. It weighed far too heavily on her mind for something that had happened so long ago. Not that two years was a long time to an Elvhen, of course, but it was still long enough that it should be a memory, rather than a constant worry.

After all, she had saved the ship, and she had saved her vhenan'ara. It had all worked out perfectly.

Or had it?

"We... we did?"

"Yes. We have done enough to serve Elvhen'an. Nearly losing each other. Fighting off those Terran Alliance aliens. We have given enough of ourselves. This is our time, now."

Fenrel had once said that he would serve for a thousand years. One of the things Ariaranni loved about him was his sense of duty, and his insatiable desire to explore the cosmos. She wouldn't have thought that he would resign his commission for even a moment. But suddenly it came flooding back to her - she remembered them both resigning, the day after they returned home in triumph.

Or did I?

"I just feel that something is wrong," Ariaranni said. "It is a gut feeling, but I cannot shake it. Like the time the Era'harelen were here."

"What are you talking about?" Fenrel exclaimed. "There has not been an Era'harel in our lifetimes! You are being absurd."

'Absurd'? Fenrel had never spoken to her in that way before.

"But I... remember..."

"Do you? Are you sure about that?"

She wasn't. Every time she tried to remember, to recall that nagging feeling at the back of her mind, these memories of war against an alien force known as the Terran Alliance came flooding into their place. They did not seem to belong in there, yet, there they were. Fleeting moments of clarity were beaten back by these... misplaced memories that she couldn't get past.

The strange feeling was worse than just misremembered events though. Whenever she examined anything closely, it seemed... hollow, somehow. Even the people around her - the waiter who had served them earlier, Keeper Tanarel when he presented them with their medals on their return home, even Fenrel at this moment - seemed somehow... odd. Then the feelings subsided.

"No."

"If there is something wrong, it is the problem of others," Fenrel said reassuringly. "Let them worry about things. We have done our time. For you and I have more pressing concerns - such as a picnic."

"Of course, ma'arlath," she sighed.

---

Aboard Hanal'ghilan; auxiliary control

Seralora emerged first, carefully sliding the hatch to one side and squeezing past. Arrith followed her, and closed it behind them. Three Fade Hunters stood in the room, their swords drawn but ignoring them - they sensed their brethren without even looking. This small room was the auxiliary control room, currently dormant and dim. Meant to take over from the forecastle in the event that it was damaged or compromised, the Fade Hunters hadn't the authorisation codes to assume control of the Hanal'ghilan.

That did not stop them from trying, however. They could not trust the 'regular' Elvhenen to safely command the ship if Era'harel were aboard, for their senses - and even bodies - were susceptible to the influence of the Fade abominations, and so they were working to seize control through less official means. Unsurprisingly, it was not an easy task - Celestial Navy ships were military ships, ultimately, and were not easy to commandeer. With the weakening of the Veil, and the influence of the Era'harel, the matter was complicated even more so.

It helped that they had been trained to commandeer ships, however.

"Arrilora," the Fade Hunter named Liasa greeted them with their portmanteau name, her voice surprisingly gravelly. She did not face them, but continued trying to hack the computer. "What did you see?"

"The Era'harel have taken control of the engine room," Seralora told her. "They are converting the main reactor into a second Fade drive."

Liasa turned her head slightly away from the computer terminal, looking at her comrade with a raised eyebrow. She had bright red hair, an unusual colour for an Elvhen, and her fiery red eyebrows made the expression far more severe than it would have been otherwise. "You are certain of this?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Fourteen Era'harel," Arrith answered. "Twelve working on the reactor, with two guarding. Far more Shamblers."

"We need to take the engine room back," Seralora said.

"There are but five of us left," Liasa said.

"I know," Seralora said. "But look at the damage just one Fade drive has caused to the Veil. If the Era'harel gain control of another, they will spread themselves throughout the stars like a plague. We must take the engine room back before they complete it."

Liasa sighed. "Or destroy the ship."

"We have no idea how many uncorrupted yet live," Seralora said.

"Nor any way of stopping the Era'harel aboard Ven'Mahvir if we all die here," Arrith added.

"Unless we can destroy both ships in one blast," Liasa said. "I should gain control of the ship from here in but a few moments. Hopefully the ship's senses are still functioning, and we can see where the Ven'Mahvir is."

"I still feel that we should take the engine room," Seralora said. "If we can secure the Hanal'ghilan, then we can deal with the Ven'Mahvir afterwards."

"Do you know how many Era'harel there are aboard this ship? How many Fade Shamblers?" Liasa protested.

"I can sense them as well as you can," Seralora said. "But the Veil will remain weak here even if we destroy both ships - all it will take is one more ship to pass by here without warning, and this will start all over again. We need to seal the breach they have created."

"Then we need more warriors," Liasa said. "Five of us cannot hope to secure two ships from an incursion of this size."

"You remain here, and continue work on gaining ship control," Seralora said. "If you succeed, use the stones to rally any soldiers who remain uncorrupted. The rest of us will do our best to take the engine room. If nothing else, we may delay their efforts."

"If you sense us fail, destroy the ship," she added.

Liasa nodded solemnly. No words needed to be said. They all knew their duty.

[Galactic Federation of the FDR]

Bridge of the FNS Sovereign

The large Imperial I-class Star Destroyer had been assigned on exploration missions, performing blind jumps in the hopes of finding new planets and alien life. As the hyperdrive spooled down below deck, Commander Pallaon felt they had finally struck paydirt. She stood gazing out into the abyss through the viewports. Several ships of unknown design and class were floating in the distance, two seemingly of familiar construction while the third was more industrial. A technician in the crew pits called out.

"Long range scans are ready ma'am."

"Excellent. I shall take them in navigation." She crisply spun about and walked off towards the rear of the bridge where the large consoles and holotables of navigation sat attached to the durasteel floor. As she tapped on the holotable, it sprung to life with a blue holographic image of the system. Her theory was correct, as there were two ships constructed from seemingly the same materials, while the third ship was of different build entirely. While the third displayed data on lifeforms and systems, the scans had failed to penetrate the hulls of the other two.

"Technician, why is there no data on two of these vessels?" She called out to the bridge.

"Ma'am, the scanners are failing to penetrate the hulls of the vessels. The little scraps we can get shows rapidly changing modules and systems."

Cursing under her breath, she opened a transmission and spoke. "All vessels in system, this is Commander Pallaon of the FNS Sovereign. All vessels on this frequency, please respond."

As a precaution, she notified gunnery to charge the turbolasers and ordered the launch of a squadron of TIEs. Hopefully these vessels would prove nonhostile and she would get a nice shiny medal for the discovery of a new species. She could imagine it already, the Emperor pinning the medal to her uniform while the crowds cheered.

Holy shit, this stuff is amazing. This stuff reads like a story and I love it. You've got me looking over my shoulder for fade shamblers...

[The Fedral Union]

Semors stammered a bit; she couldn't believe the scanners infront of her; those objects they weren't stopping; what was going on? A sense of fear started to grip her and the crew; but it was tempered by logic, though little did anyone know logic wasn't exactly in the norm for what ever they where about to face. Semors suppressed her mounting dread; eyes scanning the fizzling silhouettes of those shuttles seemingly inching closer and closer to her and her ship. Semors sunk in to her chair her mind inundated with assumptions ideas and thoughts. Quickly she asked Challanger her eyes not averting from the view of the tapestry of space and those.. Or at least that faint impression of them.


-”Do we have hyper drive yet?”-

Challengers avatar shook its head grimly; they still had no idea who or what these beings wanted, the cryptic yet ominous messages conveyed by them made one thing clear; they wee determined to do something.

-”No; it will take a while before we cut through what ever is dampening local space, our sensors are still actuating themselves to cut through this interference, but so far we cant tell what kind it is. It has a vaguely mentallic signature but..”-

Semors quickly ran down a list of ideas that popped in to her head, there was little time for trial and error at this point; the mention of some mentallic force sent shivers down her spine; the Terrans weren't unused to the idea of such things and had dealt with it many a time before, but why was this so different why couldn't they completely shield themselves or detect it more clearly.


-”Keep trying to communicate with. What ever or who ever; bring our weapons arrays online..”-

Challanger nodded; the small exploration ship, while lightly armed did posses weapons, weather or not they could gain a lock on the incoming ships as faint on the sensors as they where, was another matter. The might of Terran technology was a marvel, at times it prompted like with all beings a slight bit of hubris, right now the hopes of the entire crew, the ships and those coming in to the system would at the last resort be pinned upon the very thing that made the Terrans and her allies “giants” amongst the stars.

-”There aren't any life signs on those ships; they could somehow be dampening our scanners..”-

An allegory..

-”What are you doing? Who or what are you? And why are you seeking my crew? We mean no harm..”-

Challanger spoke still projected on the ship, his questions echoed both his own concerns and the concerns of his crew. Even him, a non flesh being had emotions; the product of a guided evolution from the social and cultural norms of the Alliance; even if he could turn them off, there was little reason too. Fear was part of sapient existence after all; Challenger wondered in that web of infinitely complex networks the simple question of why?

Even he for now failed to instantly anything beyond the presented and visible situation.

-”I must inform you, we will defend ourselves if we must; I nor my captain or crew will permit themselves to be harmed..”-

That was the final statement Challenger made; it was more stern than his other tones, indeed what other choice was there? Back on the ship; Challenger spoke to the command officers who where intently waiting for news, and attentive to their stations.

-”We're receiving a hail from one of those ships, I cant tell what they're saying.. It could be a drone.. Something isn't what it seems captain what ever is going on..-”

Semors folded her hands on her lap, she closed her eyes as the CIC went dark, klaxons began to blare, as the message was played it merely baffled everyone, why would these things still be en route to the Challenger if they had been told to stop? Why was there no one aboard? Even if it was a drone; there where still so many unknowns.

-”Lets try a narrow band stream of data .. Maybe what ever is piloting those shuttles can decode it..”-

Challenger nodded, a blip was the only thing that signaled a standard numerical data stream, it was about as basic galactic as anyone could get. Semors looked to her executive officer then to the ships avatar. She hopped that if this was only a nightmare that shed wake up soon, safe and sound snug in her gravirack, but so far that dash of irrational hope that people so often had didn't seem true; challenger responded with a measured tone.

-”I have some ideas; but we can only implement one, and I'm not sure you'd like it.”

Semors looked at him gain; she rested her elbow on the armrests of her chair what choice did they have?

-”Even if this force is mentallic; we could buy ourselves some time by… confusing them..”-

Semors quirked a brow; they tried that, but she realized this would be more unorthodox; this just added more to that pit of tension within her belly.. Challenger continued; his tone unwavering from t its collective nature.

-”We'll need to superimpose a copy of ourselves; in to local space, almost like a shadow..I'll spare you the technical jargon but if I can get just enough power to the jump drive we can do it; it wouldn't last for more than a half a minute even less.. And it would probably disable our weapons for a time..”-

Semors eyes widened; she cut off her executive officer with a surprising and disbelieving tone to accent her expression; her hands grasped the armrests of her chair.

-“Would we run the risk of tearing ourselves apart? And even if it did work wouldn't they just change course back to us? As soon as the jig was up “-

Challenger could only plainly reply.

-“Its either that or open fire; with the phase shifting I'm seeing and all this other anomalies, either of those options have a high risk.”-


Krako chimed in; a few chitters and a rapid fountains of words coming from his mandibles


-”We cant tell where these ships are correctly, for al we know… they could be right at our as.. you humans say -chitter chitter- our doorstep, and this close to a Jovian would makethiswholething even more like a game of hukbarisichtnr. (A mantoid game of logic and chance)..We don't -click- haveenoughinformation.-”

.Semors weighed things; as those things came closer and closer; and fear began to eat away at the crew more and more; she said.

-“Do it; make sure we have enough power for a burst of our phase drives on full..If anything we could head straight toward that gas giant.”-

Challenger interjected; after the captain had finished speaking..

-”You want to try to use it as a sling shot don't you?”-

Semors sighed; if this elaborate plan didn't render them in to foam, they could likely end up smashing in to that Jovian.

-”I know its reckless but, if can make a full sling and those shuttles aren't as nimble as us they could end up right smack in to that gas giant… Unless we do.”-

This was still all based on assumptions; weather this would be entirely fruitless would remain to be seen, weather or not it was inevitable for them to be caught in this allegory of horrors; this void of nightmares where these creatures dwelled, was no doubt uncertain. At least it could by them some time; how much? They didn't know.

(OOC: Yes I ran some words together deliberately , also kudos on the thread mate, I've left a few openings in my post to play with. I'm going to roll on the outcome on my folks attempts if it comes to that but I gave you leeway to add something in before I had my crew make an attempt; you've got some license to assume/control some things pertaining to my folks to move the story along if you wish. )

[Elvhen-an]

Aboard Ven'Mahvir; throughway

"I must inform you, we will defend ourselves if we must; I nor my captain or crew will permit themselves to be harmed," the Terran AI said defiantly. Its words elicited an unexpected reaction - laughter. From one end of the dark throughway, the light-hearted, whispered chuckles of children. From the other, the deep, throaty, growling cackle of... something else.

"Fire your weapons, soulless being. See what good it does you."

The ever-closer thudding in the darkness finally emerged from the shadows as it reached the AI; a hulking beast, with inward-curved horns protruding from its malformed, asymmetric head, so tall that they nearly scraped the ceiling of the throughway, stomped on bulky legs towards the AI. The creature's enormous, muscular body had grey skin that almost seemed to be armour, with overlapping plates covering its upper legs, chest, and even its face, while giant, jagged spikes emerged from its bulky forearms. An Elvhen mage might be able to identify the creature, were one available to quiz, but only from ancient tomes - this was a demon of pride, the most powerful, intelligent, and vicious of the Era'harel, somehow existing in the real world in its natural form. This was no possessed corpse, mutated to serve the needs of a spirit residing beyond the Veil, but a real Fade entity, manifested with substance.

Its toothy mouth was twisted into a grin, while its eyes were hard to determine. It loomed over the Terran projection, looking down at it and cocking its head curiously. "You know not what is happening here," it added derisively, spittle flying from its mouth as it spat the deep, throaty words at the hologram. "Look into the Black beyond these artificial walls with your sensing devices, and see the majesty of what is to come."

Apparently disinterested in anything further the Terran avatar might have to say, the creature stomped a few paces away, turning its back on the hologram, and began to study the unconscious bodies that lay near the entrance.

---

In space

The Ven'Mahvir had taken on an odd, greenish tinge, as though energy of an unknown nature was radiating out from its hull. Stranger still, the space itself around the ship appeared to have taken on a similar green hue, even though there was no substance to illuminate. The distortions of the fabric of reality had grown in intensity and size, and occasional thunderbolts with no apparent source streaked across the nothingness, temporarily blinding anybody who might be looking out of a window.

In this soup of chaos something seemed to be emerging out of an invisible hole, dwarfing the two ships that were nearby. Parts of what looked like an island began to fade into view, a vast, chaotic structure littered with objects both mundane and fantastical, made from strange rock with green veins. Each part of the island that materialised simply made no sense; creatures made from fire floated across one surface aimlessly, while another surface arranged at a 90° angle to that one saw other creatures, fleshy and shapeless, wandering about as though gravity were something they controlled. One chunk of the absurd island seemed to play host to a variety of wooden furniture, arranged as though part of a house that hadn't been built yet, and populated by ghosts. In other places there were structures that simply could not exist, arranged in non-Euclidean shapes, made of green crystal, and having no apparent purpose other than existing for the sake of existing. Creatures like the one that had just revealed itself aboard Ven'Mahvir clambered up the impossible sides of the structures, roaring and raising their arms in victory.

Several more of the islands - each one as bizarre as the last - materialised around it, forming a floating archipelago of nonsense around the Ven'Mahvir, stretching as far as the space distortions allowed. The Fade itself was leaking into the world of reality, and the distortions generated by Ven'Mahvir were still growing.

With worlds colliding, one might be forgiven for not noticing that the smaller Elvhen ship, Hanal'ghilan, still cruising next to the Ven'Mahvir, had suddenly started scanning around itself, as though someone had managed to gain control of the ship again.

Thanks guys. Sorry it took so long and sorry this post is so short. I had to get something up while I had some time! Lots going on with me lately, hopefully after next week things should calm down a bit.