The Love Muffin docked with Inquisitor Fortress Gamma after a three day trip, with some of it spent refueling and maintaining the important systems on the station at a trading astrodock. Arthur and Kelish wasted as little time as possible, and did not even leave the Lovemuffin during their stay. From inside the station, though, there was a sense that something big was coming. Many people were twitchy, looking around as if the apocalypse had arrived.

Arthur also noticed that more people than he thought had been changed by the ‘Awakening,’ with parts of their bodies glowing or replaced by some inexplicable version of themselves. Those people walked small, as if they were trying to escape attention, and anyone who had to interact with them acted with uncertainty. An unfortunate societal change, one that Arthur hoped could be changed with a bit more public knowledge.

But after their long journey, they finally arrived at Inquisition Fortress Gamma well rested and ready for action. Granted, Arthur was overdue for an appointment with the kids in the Foundry and Kelish’s chempowder shotgun likely needed a tune-up anyway, especially after the abuse she had put it through. They disembarked from the Love Muffin with their dress uniforms on, having left their equipment in the station, “So, what’s the deal, Exo?” Kelish asked, holding her comslate out in front of her as the pair floated through the docking bay, “Where are we going, and what are we doing?”

Exo’s waveform appeared on Kelish’s comslate, “You two need to report to Arthur’s superior, post haste. She will give you what you need and give you your next assignment,” Exo answered. Kelish shot Arthur a questioning look, but he just shook his head. It was never wise to force any SI, especially an AI, to divulge information on a work-related matter. It was a widely known, scarcely discussed fact that the virtual community of SI’s was a work-oriented space, so they sometimes prioritized their jobs over their virtual lives. Arthur had a hunch that the system in place for them that was worryingly close to eugenics was far less widely known. It was not his place to judge, though. Even if it made him a bit uncomfortable to think about.

The pair made their way to Arthur’s superior’s office quickly, passing by hurrying Inquisitors, bureaucrats, and other support staff. When Arthur and Kelish arrived at the hallway in front of his superior’s office, though, there was a line of Inquisitors waiting in front of her door. Some wore their armor, others wore their dress uniforms. Some carried weapons, and others did not. What was the most striking detail was the fact that most of those who wore armor had some sort of mark on them, showing damage.

Because the pair were not savages, they walked to the back of the line and waited behind the last person, a short man, Meytvani because of his hands having four fingers, with armor singed all over. He turned to the pair, “You two come back from a mission?” he asked, rubbing one of the more blackened spots on his gray armor.

“We did,” Arthur replied. If the Meytvani was intrigued by the pair’s disparate species, he did not show it, instead gesturing for him to go on, “We were dispatched to the Moskt Bellara system, where a series of murders had occured.”

“Wait, I heard something about that system. Some magic rock people or something? You were the ones to meet them?” the Meytvani asked. Arthur just nodded in response, “Huh. I didn’t hear anything more than the courts fighting the oil companies about who owned the system.”

“They were some strange folk,” Kelish added, “Ate the bugs, far more advanced than a society less than a day old should be, stuff like that.” The man looked at Kelish for a moment and she rolled her eyes, “No, they don’t use forbidden technology. Unless you suggest that a bunch of rock people in a single cave can mess with the genetics of the local fauna.”

“They’re in the stone age, then?”

“The iron age. Probably further, since they have some strange circumstances surrounding their birth,” Arthur corrected, “They have ingrained knowledge whenever they are born. Oddly, that included who the Inquisitors are, so that might suggest some sort of sapient interference, but it’s hard to say.”

“No kidding, huh? You’re lucky. All I found was a fire-breathing, three-headed dog the size of a small station.” Arthur gave the man an unimpressed look, “What?”

“We have something like that in human mythology,” Arthur replied, “The dog’s name was Cerberus. He was the guardian of the first layer of hell.”

“The one that guy Dante supposedly created?” Kelish asked. Arthur nodded, “Yeah, I heard about that guy from some old book. I think it was written about five hundred years ago. It retold the story of how Dante created hell while traveling through it, populating it with the people who sinned before him, right?”

“I thought all your human stories were lost to time,” the man in front of them said.

“Most were, and a lot were altered in a lot of ways,” Arthur replied, “We don’t know what was really believed, what were alterations from authors using those myths as creative inspiration, and what was lost in the Invader’s First Incursion.”

The pair nodded, “We were lucky,” Kelish replied, “We were in space by the time the Invaders decided to make their presence known.”

“I’m in the same boat here,” the man added, “Damn monstrosities… Just looking at the recordings makes my bone crown tingle…” he said, shaking his head, “I just hope I never have to see those things in my life.”

At that moment, an Inquisitor left their superior’s office, walking down the corridor with haste. The trio watched him go, stepping forwards in the line as another person took that Inquisitor’s place, “Do you know what’s up?” Kelish asked the Inquisitor in front of them, “We just got back barely ten minutes ago.”

The man nodded, “Yeah, I do. High command and the TRC finally made some general guidelines for what’s forbidden and what’s not. Generally, anything that’s a weapon or could pose a threat to a planet is something in our sights.”

“That seems a bit strict…” Kelish mused, waving her hands a moment later, “I’m just saying, what counts as a weapon for stuff like this? Are those inherent abilities weapons? Are physical mutations weapons?”

Arthur sighed, “They probably have a guide on that. I doubt that they don’t know everything the Inquisitors have found by now, so they must have thought about it.”

“He’s right,” the man in front of them said, “The boss’ll give you two a file on it. But as far as I know, anything that someone naturally developed is in the same category of a genetic casualty.”

“That means that the victim receives compensation depending on the damage done to their body from a gene mod or a DNA scramble,” Arthur explained, “She’s my mentee,” Arthur said to the man, “She doesn’t know this stuff.”

“Huh,” the man hummed, “One of a kind pairing, then,” he commented, shrugging. Another Inquisitor left their superior’s office and the line moved up again, “Looks like I’m up after this guy,” the man said as another Inquisitor entered the office, “If I see you two around, we should get lunch together. What’re your names?”

Kelish smiled, “Kelish Balak,” she answered, obviously noticing how the man slightly recoiled at the last name, “It’s complicated. Adopted by a Kragak for a year, you know how it goes…”

“Fair enough,” the man conceded.
“Arthur Wan,” Arthur said, giving the man a smile like Kelish’s.

The man rubbed his helmeted chin, “I’m pretty sure I heard of you before… You don’t happen to know Maya, do you?” he asked. He then held up a hand, “Wait, no, I remember. You’re her mentee, aren’t you?” Arthur could only nod, and the man laughed, “Damn, you came out pretty good for being her mentee! I thought she’d kill anyone she took under her wing!”

“It was a pretty close call a couple of times,” Arthur agreed, pointing at the door as the Inquisitor in front of the man left, “Looks like you’re up. What’s your name?”

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that. Eten Itani. This armor’s a bit charred, but I’m part of the Assault Unit,” he said, walking into the office, “See you two around!” As he walked into the office, the pair simply waited in line for Eten to return. Not five minutes later, he left the office, “I’ve got an appointment with the Foundry kids again,” he groaned, “See you two around!”

“You too,” Arthur replied, Kelish giving him a smile. The man passed, and the pair walked up to the office door.

Before Arthur could knock, the voice of his superior answered, “We don’t have time for tradition,” she said through the door, “Just get in here.” Arthur and Kelish shared a look, and Arthur opened the door, opening to the same office he had seen a few times before. The only difference was the larger terminal on the Seeker’s desk, with a wider screen as well. “Oh, it’s you two. I almost thought you died on the way. I know you’re already due for a break, Inquisitor Wan, but we do not have time.” She reached, almost by instinct, over to the side of her desk. There was a keyboard there, and she pressed a single button, “E-X-Zero, please take this file packet. Share it with Inquisitors Wan and Balak.” She turned away from the keyboard and to the two Inquisitors, “As for your next assignment, you’ll be tackling something a bit more dangerous than usual. Or that’s the vibe I get from it.

“Now, onto the details. You two are heading to the sector capital, Hellania III, about a half-weeks journey from here, and investigating reports of corpses rising from their graves.” The pair gave her baffled looks, “Yes, I know. If we are judging this by the trends of other anomalous phenomena discerned by SI analysts, there is a cause. Likely, a sapient cause. You are to figure out whether or not the dead are indeed rising, and stop it if the rumors turn out to be true. Now, any questions?”

“I do, ma’am,” Arthur replied, “Our equipment was damaged in our last mission. Is there enough time to get our armor and weapons checked out before this mission?” he asked. While he would dive into the depths of hell if he needed to, he would have preferred to take the plunge with his equipment in top shape.

His superior’s eye dilated a bit and the corners of her mouth in an expression analogous to pursing one’s lips. “If you make the appointment quick, it should not affect things too much. What damage did your equipment sustain?”

Arthur smiled, a bit sheepishly, “My left forearm armor was dented by a strong Hlaphid and her shotgun was batted around by a trio of cataphracts,” he explained, “Not our finest hour.”

Arthur’s superior just nodded, “I see. Then make your session with them quick.” Arthur and Kelish nodded, “If there is nothing else, then you are dismissed.” The pair saluted, and left the office, entering the hallway. They walked towards the docking bay without exchanging words, arriving after a few minutes of speed walking. They quickly entered the Love Muffin and gathered their equipment, carrying it out a few moments later. “So, can you tell me why having a meeting with the Foundry people is so stressful?” Kelish asked.

Arthur turned to her as they were walking the hallways of the Fortress, then sighed, “The main problem comes from the fact that they treat their projects like their children. If you dare damage your equipment, they’ll give you hell to pay for it,” he explained, stepping to the side to avoid a rushing pair of Inquisitors, “We’re probably going to get an earful when we get there.”

“Would they rather us die than get our equipment banged up a bit?” Kelish asked, scoffing, “Shredded armor brought back on the chest of a living soldier is working as intended,” Kelish added, as if reciting something, “It’s an old Kragak idiom. No point in armor if it doesn’t get a bit banged up.” Arthur could understand, but it was always better to not be hit in the first place. That was an idyllic way of thinking, though, so he just stayed silent.

After a few more minutes, they arrived at the Foundry, which was near-pandamonium. Smiths and manufacturers worked at their stations, bags under their eyes. The pair walked through the Foundry with purpose, eventually reaching the Quartermaster’s desk, “Ah, Maya’s little project, and your mentee” the Meytvani Quartermaster said, “From the looks of it, you two need a quick tune-up, no?”

“As fast as possible,” Arthur replied, putting his armor on the Meytvani’s desk, followed by Kelish doing the same. “We dealt with some nasty creatures on our last mission and we have another one right after you’re done. It’s dangerous, apparently.”

The Quartermaster picked up Arthur’s damaged gauntlet, hissing, “What’d you do to this poor armor?” he asked, rubbing it, “I can tell that you don’t have time right now, but the next time I see you in here, we’re having words, got it?”

“Understood,” Arthur replied, his voice droll. The Quartermaster gave a half-hearted glare, then picked up the entire pile of armor and weapons-- enough for two Inquisitors-- and made his way deeper into the Foundry at a brisk walk. Arthur and Kelish shared a look, then shrugged, waiting for the Quartermaster to return. “Exo,” Arthur said, pulling out his comslate, “Can you bring up the file for us? The one my superior gave you?”

“One moment,” Exo replied, “Alright, I have it here. Give it a look, it should be an interesting read.” Arthur and Kelish nodded, looking down at their respective comslates. Arthur skimmed through the many pages, and was able to put a general picture together. The major thing that surprised him was the fact that the TRC did not claim to be able to predict anything in terms of the new anomalies. Instead, there was a general guideline on how to deal with certain abilities. Generally, anything that was highly weaponized and meant to kill sapients was forbidden. In addition to that rule, it was forbidden from creating inherently anomalous Minds, such as giving life to inherently corrupted beings, though the minutiae of what that exactly meant was not specified. There were a few other edge cases that were addressed, but things that only helped improve life for people, like healing or repairing anomalies were outside of their jurisdiction.

After a while, Kelish sighed, “That’s a lot… How are we going to figure out what’s what?” she asked, “I mean, a lot of this seems pretty hard to notice. Making big changes to the Mind seems pretty hard to pinpoint for most Inquisitors, right?”

“That will depend on what signs are left from the alterations,” Arthur replied, “Massive, sudden changes leave marks, like a human’s body suddenly losing all its body fat or muscle. Think of it like the stretch marks of the Mind,” he explained, “But you have a point. Any suspected influence on the Mind will need to be screened by an Esper. It has always been like that when dealing with Espers, though some neurological doctors can see the rapid changes. It will probably increase the need for Espers nonetheless.”

“Huh,” Kelish hummed, “That’s bad, right?” she asked, “I mean, Espers, Tytikas, and the like are pretty rare. One in a thousand humans can be Espers, and that’s the best rate. And only one in a million Seekers can become Psychics.”

“Those are the most extreme rates,” Arthur added, “One in five thousand Vikshe become Espers and one in ninety five thousand Cileriens become Abyssfinders. It varies. And among those, a scarce few become Inquisitors.”

Kelish chuckled darkly, “We’re going to need to outsource Mind related investigations, aren’t we?”

“I doubt it. There are about a million or so Inquisitors somewhere in that ballpark, anyway. I don’t know the exact number, since it would be a massive security risk to have that number floating around. But, anyway, the six League species have roughly equal numbers in the Inquisition.”

“I know that,” Kelish interrupted, shooting an annoyed look at Arthur, “I read everything you gave me, but even if that many Inquisitors are Psychic or Espers or whatever, there might be too many Mind alterers to take care of.”

“Kel, I noticed,” Arthur replied, “My point is that there are likely thousands of Espers and Psychics and whatever else the people of the League call the people with mind powers. We can probably handle this new influx of Mind-related work.”

Kelish looked at him with a bit of skepticism, but just nodded nonetheless. After a few more minutes, the Quartermaster returned, somehow laying Arthur’s and Kelish’s sets of armor and weapons into neat piles despite his arms being full of the stuff, “Alright, all of your gear is tuned up and ready to be used. But NOT abused. I swear to my god and yours that if I find you treating that armor badly, I’ll tear your eyes out of your ears and shove them back through their sockets. You hear me?” he growled.

“Loud and clear,” Arthur answered, his voice once again droll. The Quartermaster grumbled and let them take their equipment. They did so, and left the Foundry with hurried steps. “Exo, we need you to have the station ready to go as soon as we get there. Can you do that?”

“Easily, Arthur,” Exo answered. His waveform flickering for a moment, “The station is ready to go. The astrodock AI has been informed, the station has been decoupled from the docking pylon, and the worm drive is ready to go.”

“Good, thanks Exo.” Arthur and Kelish made their way to the Love Muffin a few minutes later, barely needing to touch the ground once before they both climbed into the station, though the dropship, with their gear. A single moment later, Arthur felt the world around him shift and warp, signaling their entrance into a wormhole. The pair sighed, and entered the station proper, ready to start their next journey.

 

*=====*

 

Jane Helvin was a strange girl. In the half week people began to notice her, on the foundry planet Vlachac VII, she had managed to walk a hundred miles from the heart of titasteel production to the main dropship depot of the planet. Along the way, she made minor splashes in many circles, though nothing that overshadowed the new anomalies around, as well as getting over her shyness a bit.

She just managed to be in the right places at the right times to speak with some influential foundry owner, or to help the daughter of a massive, sector-spanning corporation avoid getting lost, or even to get a rlach, a cat-like animal from a large planet in the sector, down from one of the park trees.

That same girl stood in front of a travel agency desk, arms crossed, “Are you sure you can’t?” she asked.

“I am, kid,” the bored-looking Seeker clerk replied, “I can’t give you a ticket unless you’ve got your ID with you. Any kind will do. Besides, you look a bit…” he leaned over the desk, looking at the distinct lack of anything she had with her, “Unprepared… Come back with your parents, and I can help you.”

Jane huffed, walking away while putting her data chip away. It was an, apparently, archaic system of transferring funds between people. It was mostly used by people who preferred to remain unseen from the SI’s all over the web. She got it from a pawn shop, after selling some jewelry she had with her. She was lucky that the owner of the shop was willing to deal in such a secretive method of payment.

However she got it, she left the travel agency with just as many dollars and tickets off the planet as she started with. She sighed and walked into the shade of the building, hiding away from the sun. She watched as dropships, either massive things being boarded by fancily-dressed people or small rust buckets carrying grimy miners, arrived and departed like clockwork.

Eventually, she saw something interesting. It was like a saucer, flying, or falling, through the air at terminal velocity. A half minute before it was going to crash into the ground, it began to slow its descent, eventually landing with a dull, soft thud a minute later. A quartet of thin, spindly legs held the craft up, the underside of which opened up a moment later to reveal a strange new being Jane had yet to meet.

He was like a snail, with stalks emerging from his shell that acted like a strange facsimile of a face. Beside the snail, a couple dozen boxes had been lowered down to the ground with him, stacked atop small, flat drones. From what Jane had seen, small autonomous robots like those were, while not rare, not common either. While they were used in many industries, they were also used by certain people who liked to have their living spaces cleaned automatically.

It was strange that such things were not ubiquitous. Jane just shrugged when she came to realize that, though. It was not much skin off of her nose, after all. What she was interested in, though, was the strange person she saw sliding across the ground in front of her. She waited for him to come a bit closer, until he was about to pass her, before making her way over to him, “Hi there!” she greeted, “I’m Jane Helvin. I’ve never seen someone like you before. You’re a… Gilvan, right?”

The snail’s-- or Gilvan’s-- eye stalks swiveled to look at Jane, staring at her for a moment before his mouth stalk followed, “Greeting, small lady,” he greeted back, “Am Gilvan. Saltless. Nice to meet.” At the same time, a tendril of pale white flesh emerged from his shell, offering a handshake.

Jane took the offered appendage without hesitation-- she had greeted much stranger people in much stranger ways-- and beamed a smile, “So your name is Saltless?” she asked. Saltless’ eye stalks bobbed up and down, “I see. Um… is that your dropship?” she asked, gesturing to the flying saucer.

“Is. Why? Need transport?” he asked. Jane just nodded in return, stuffing a hand into her pocket, “See, then. Have ID?” he asked. Her expression grew a bit dour at his words, “Not need. Want know. Not problem if not have. Want come with? Need deliver supplies. To hospital.”

She gave him a warm smile, “I’d love to. Do you want me to move this stuff?” she asked, moving over to the boxes.

“Not needed,” Saltless replied, inching towards his destination, “If want help, learn how do deals. Help Saltless practice for someday clutch.” Jane smiled again, and followed behind him, listening to him speak in his oddly broken speech that was strange for even her, “See, need predict wants. Sometimes, people want thing one. Othertimes, people want thing two. Always risk, but reward good. Try predict is hard. What not hard is moving goods. That key,” he said as he slithered down a large staircase, the little drones extending their wheels to descend the slope as well, “Most challenge not from moving goods, though pirates change at times, but from knowing what goods people want.”

Jane nodded along, stepping up to his side as they passed under a busy overpassing bridge, “In that case, how do you predict what people want? Isn’t it just impossible to know, since we can’t look into the future?” She stepped out of the way of a pedestrian. They had made it closer to the population centers, leading to more people passing them on the metal sidewalks

Saltless shook one of his tendril-like appendages, “No, not impossible. Yes, hard. Not impossible. Key is think of what change. If pirate band near trade route, sell gun to traders. If world expanding manufacturing, sell steel. If far colony established, sell mail. Key is to learn perspectives of others. Learn from all, use to make profit when opportunity.” He paused for a moment, “You want me be honest?”

“I would love to hear it,” Jane replied.

“Awakening one of best business thing happen,” he said with little shame, ignoring the either interested, disgusted, or affirming gazes of the passing pedestrians as they heard his declaration, “Make demand. Many die, yes. Tragedy, yes, but plague also tragedy. Selling medicine mean profit. Strange new monster is tragedy. But selling guns mean profit.”

“So…” she trailed off, putting the lesson together in her head, “Use any advantage you can to make a profit?” she asked. If that was the case, then she had many ideas. Many, incredibly lucrative ideas. But she was not one to revel in wealth-- none of her parents were, either-- and she would have rather traveled than be stuck using her ideas to make a profit.

“Yes and no,” Saltless replied, taking another turn. At the end of the street, there was a large building with a massive red cross painted onto the front wall. It was a monolithic structure, but it was designed in a way that felt more natural than a big, blocky building. An ancient oak tree rather than a basalt column, “Use chance. Don’t make chance. Don’t buy pirate band to raid trade route. Don’t start plague to sell medicine. Don’t cause many deaths to make profit. Is key, to morality.”

“Don’t be a dick about it, then,” Jane half asked and half answered. Saltless’ eye stalks just bobbed up and down. By the time their lesson was over, they were in front of the massive, organically designed building. The front doors were automatic, so they could simply walk into the building without having to fiddle with the automatic carts.

The lobby of the hospital was nice. It was not luxurious like Jane’s parents’ homes were, nor was it like some of the filthy hives of death her Teacher once showed her, so she could see the brutality and shortness of life. It was middling, with carpeted floors, cleaning agents available for any and all appendages, hopeful family and friends in the waiting area, and friendly staff that took notice of the pair as soon as they entered. A trio of nurses quickly broke off from their normal duties and approached them. The lead nurse, a large human man with a comslate and wearing scrubs, nodded to them as he approached, “Good afternoon. You must be Saltless, then?”
“Am,” Saltless replied, “Here medicine. Take. Use to help sick and hurt.” The nurse nodded, telling the other two to begin moving boxes. Jane was a bit curious about the procedure-- most hospitals she knew of had loading bays and the like, and the one she stood in was not small enough to be able to forgo such things.

She kept her mouth shut, though, and watched as the nurse and Saltless completed the proper paperwork and signed the right documents to consider the delivery successful. After a few minutes, the other two nurses began to unload the boxes, showing great care to the contents of them. Once the two dozen boxes were brought into the hospital, the staff thanked Saltless, and they were off.

As they passed through the streets of the city, Jane could not help her curiosity, “Why did we bring that to the front door?” she asked, stepping around a large, red-skinned human mutant, “Shouldn’t we have taken the packages to the loading bay?”

Saltless sighed, waving a tendril, “Ah, paperwork. This one-time job. Needed bring extra medicine from small hospital to big hospital. Need permit to use loading bay. Not want waste time getting permit. Instead, bring medicine to door. Technically not against rules.”

Jane smiled at that. Proper procedure was there for a reason, but no procedure could predict everything. And, sometimes, such procedures needed to be bypassed for the good of the people, though at the expense of the bureaucrats who kept track of such things. “So, you did it to help people?”

“Did to help. And make profit. Happy about first. Okay about second. Not big deal,” Saltless replied, “Now, we go to next planet. You know where?” Jane smiled, shaking her head a bit, “Ah, right. Just joined. We go to Kelka VI astrodock. They have company, own large share of manufacturing planet. Need metal. Have metal in station. You come with?”

Jane rubbed her chin for a moment, “Is it paid, or do you want me to pay you for bringing me off planet?” she asked.

Saltless’ tendrils rubbed around his eye stalks, “Hmm. You help station, I pay. What you take?” Jane help up her data chip and Saltless’ eye stalks bobbed, “See. Can pay with that. In fact, know guy. Friend. He help get you ID legally. Many people drift off into galaxy. Some come back. Some don’t come back. When come back, might not have ID. Maybe lost. Either way, need new ID. If need help, Trailless help. Friend Trailless have Friend Jackwall Stoneson. Knows friends in League. Trailless in Kelka VI astrodock, so can meet easily. Good?”

“I am fine with that,” Jane said. There was a stigma about using data chips in that day and age. It either meant that someone wanted to keep their money on hand, which suggested a distrust in the SI’s that permeated the quantum web, or that they did not want people to know where they were getting their money and how much they were getting. They were stereotypes designed by some ‘visionary genius’ to decrease the use of data chips, no doubt, but Jane did not make the rules. Not yet, anyway. “Thanks, mister Saltless. For everything.”

Saltless’ tube-like mouth made a noise that Jane could hardly describe-- and she had heard plenty of strange things in her lifetime-- and his eyes shone with humor, “No need for title. Saltless fine. So, ready?” Jane gave him a smile, nodding. Saltless’ tube-like mouth distorted into a strange sort of smile, and he led her back to the dropship landing pads, then into the flying saucer, and then they were off.

Zero gravity was strange. Jane had experienced it before, but it was always strange to her. It threw some of her deeper sensibilities off kilter, but she was able to adapt well enough. She was definitely thankful when they joined with the Saltless’ station, which he offhandedly referred to as the Rumrunner. The station was not dirty. That would be a cruel, rude insult. It was better described as well lived in. Marks of times long passed adorned the space, and every bauble and item strewn about the space had so much history, so much ‘Personality,’ that she could almost feel it all speaking to her. From the silverware and dishes to the electronics and metal walls, it all spoke of long history.

She had felt the feeling before, in places where people had been living for centuries without replacing much at all, and she felt the same in those places as she did in the Rumrunner, “Nice place,” Jane said, “It seems well loved.”

“Is,” Saltless replied, pride obviously swelling in him, “Love place. From clutchmother, see. Gave after died. Sisters not want life of trader, but not want Rumrunner go to scrap planet, like Dead End.” He did not say anything else after that, but brought her to a room in the station, “This your room. Make comfortable. You need rest?”

Jane sighed, feigning fatigue, “A bit of a rest would be nice,” she replied, “Do you mind?”

“Not all,” Saltless replied, “Will come when need help. Have good sleep.” With that, Saltless left the room, closing the door behind him. The room was nice, with a dresser, end table, table, and pair of chairs. Not to mention the nice bed tucked into the corner. And the small desk mirror, which showed the blonde, gray-eyed, thin, pale, five foot six girl in a red and yellow dress that she was. On the outside, anyway.

She ignored all of that, though, and dug a hand into her pocket. A moment later, she pulled out a small pile of metal shards-- mostly titasteel, but there was also some cerasteel and some other, more specialized alloys in there-- and put it onto the table. She leaned down to the pile, cupping her hands, “We’re alone, little guy. Come on, I know you’re there…” On command, the pile glowed with silver light, lines and patterns making themselves known on the shards in an instant. A few moments later, the shards shot up into the rough shape of a six inch tall humanoid, with the head replaced by a particularly large shard of titasteel, appearing to be held together by a softly glowing, silver fog.

The little metal man ‘looked’ up at Jane, throwing his arms open wide. Jane smiled a bright, happy smile and leaned down, accepting a hug from him. A moment later, he pulled away and gestured to the room around them, ‘looking’ around like a kid in a place he had never been before.

“We’re on a station! Off planet, away from that place!” she happily said-- quietly, because she did not want to spoil her relationship with Saltless. Not yet, anyway. She could live with burning bridges after she really got to know them, but not a moment before. Her teacher told her to go exploring, and there was no point in exploring if she did not get to know people. She knew that it was a kind of backwards way of looking at things, and that the more that most people knew about a person, the more they wanted to maintain the friendship, but Jane was not most people. Even among her… peers and similars, she was a bit strange. She preferred the company of the friends she created in the most literal sense. Such was the case with her little buddy, standing on the table, “We’re going to a new place, a place called Kelka VI. Maybe I can figure out a way for you to see it too. Sense sharing should be in my wheelhouse, considering what else I’ve done, but I’ve never tried it before. Are you alright with that?”

The little metal buddy nodded enthusiastically, stepping forwards to receive the benefits Jane spoke of. Jane chuckled a bit, stroking the little golem’s head. At the same time, she held up her other hand, which began to glow.

A pair of rings, connected by a trio of lines all tangled into a braid, appeared on her hand, like a painting spontaneously fading into existence on skin. The shapes glowed for a while, and Jane frowned, “Ah, that’s a problem…” she muttered, adding a few lines and changing another, “There we go. Now then…” She blinked her eyes and looked around, “Your senses are pretty limited, aren’t they?”

The little golem just tilted his head, then pointed at Jane’s bed.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. The golem waved his arms around in the direction of the bed, eventually lying on the table, “You mean you want to feel how the bed feels?” The little golem nodded his head, “Alright, fine,” she said, “But you’re coming with me; I don’t want Saltless to notice you if he barges in for some reason… Actually…” she trailed off, closing her eyes. A moment later, another shape, far more complex than the one before, appeared in her hand. It was both angular and circular, both flat and large in every dimension, both bright with light and heavy with darkness. It was an impossible shape that only someone like Jane could manage to conceive, let alone turn into reality. After a moment, that shape pulsed with every color, known and unknown, before dispersing into motes of omni colored light. “Nope, he went off to the controls of the station. Also, we’re in a wormhole… Didn’t know that… maybe I need to make myself psychic again…”

She mulled over it for a while, but ultimately decided not to. Being psychic was something that other psychics could notice, and she wanted to remain as unremarkable as possible. Being remarkable made people less likely to befriend her with untainted intentions. Instead, she picked her little golem up and brought him with her to her bed. As her body touched the surface, she let out a sigh of content. She had been sleeping in homeless shelters and in unattended warehouses for the last few days, which was not what she was used to. With her teacher housing her, she slept in some of the nicest beds in existence. It was a bit of a shock at first, but she was happy to have gone through it. It gave her a new perspective. She did not feel the greatest after sleeping on cheap, carbon foam mattresses or on concrete floors. It was better than sleeping without a roof over her head, but she really got a sense about what it was like not having somewhere to go back to when she needed a rest.

It was not the greatest feeling, that was for sure.

In fact, the fatigue she had suffered during the previous days suddenly caught up with her, and her eyelids began to feel quite heavy. After a moment of resistance, Jan’hel’vin let them fall, falling deep into sleep.

 

*=====*

 

Jane helped pull Saltless from the auxiliary airlock, pulling his large shell  out of the space and setting him down onto the ‘ground,’ “Are you alright?” she asked. The pair were gripping onto the holds on the ‘ground’ to make sure that they were not stranded away from anything to hold onto. As it turned out, getting hit by a station, even if it was going at a couple miles per hour, was dangerous. If someone drifted into an open pylon zone, then there was a chance of them becoming a broken, bloody ragdoll, floating through the zero gravity air.

With that in mind, Jane pulled Saltless down to ‘ground’ level, letting him use his tendrils to get a good hold before she hooked her feet into the holds, “Fine. You fine?” She just nodded, “Good. Then will send client message that goods here. We, though, go meet Trailless. He help with ID.”

Jane nodded, feeling her little golem buddy’s attention bleed across the connection they had. She chuckled internally at his curiosity. He was like a newborn puppy sometimes, doing his best to learn about everything around him. Which was true, as he was only a few days old. She could not stay and let him take everything in, though, as she had to follow Saltless down an elevator and into the station proper.

The astrodock’s structure was a two thousand foot wide wheel with four spokes on it. Saltless had explained to her that the design was common across the galaxy, as it was relatively cheap and easy to make. Some other stations preferred different methods of creating space with artificial gravity-- some doing what they could to minimize the space taken up by many machines and maximizing such space for people-- but making a large ring was the tried and true method for singular, relatively isolated structures. Other solutions were chosen for busy systems, to make it easier to expand the astrodock, but a singular ring was the most useful for most needs.

Either way, they arrived at the bottom stop of the elevator in short order, where the gravity was about one point zero five G’s. It was nice to be on ‘stable ground’ once more, as she disliked zero gravity quite a bit, but Saltless did not seem to care, simply slithering along in front of her, “We go find Trailless. Come along,” Saltless said, moving out of the elevator and into the elevator lobby, with a pair of receptionists who gave them friendly waves as they passed. When they emerged into the pathways of the astrodock, Saltless pulled out a comslate and nodded, “See. This way,” he said, gesturing towards a tall building on the skyline.

Jane followed him for the mile-long walk it took to get there, taking every sight she could in. The first thing she noticed were the states of dress of the majority of people around. They all wore the matte black, thick, armored suits that she heard were called ‘undersuits.’ Of those, many also wore armor above it, which were called ‘astrosuits.’ What made Jane curious was why the armored bits were called astrosuits when one could survive in space with nothing but an undersuit and a helmet, but she did not design them-- even if she could have done much better herself.

The second thing she noticed was the amount of murals, mosaics, and other art around. She saw some of it on that foundry planet, Vlachac VII, but it was sparse, traded for good company and hard work, as one of the locals thought of it. Jane had wondered, since meeting that man, if it was really worth shunning art so vehemently, and she had an answer now that she was standing in one of the most beautiful streets she had ever seen. She only had to deliberate for a moment before deciding to take her uncle there at some point.

The third thing she noticed were the pipes of water that extended to every building, with the once-mysterious Cilerien species zipping through them. Jane had met stranger people, and even some who were quite similar to the Cilerien. They were not as interesting as she thought they would be, even if their evolutionary design would have been quite interesting to her mom. 

The last thing she noticed were the expressions on the faces of the people around her. They were worried, nervous, and looking over their shoulders, as if a ghost were coming to get them. They huddled together, whispering so lowly that Jane had to strain her ears to pick it up. They spoke of being able to use ‘anomalous powers’ and of a broadcast across the UNET later that day. Jane hid a smile. That was good information to know. She leaned in towards Saltless, who appeared oblivious, but was likely just as attentive to the goings ons around them as she was, “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“Did,” Saltless replied, his tube-like mouth coming closer to whisper more easily, “UNET broadcast. Want watch?” Jane nodded, “Me too. We watch with Trailless. Good?” Jane nodded again, and the pair picked up their pace. A few minutes later, they arrived at the building Saltless pointed out before. He gestured towards it with a subdued motion, “This up and down house. Serve alcohol, coffee, and other stuff. Good place to hear rumor.”

“Any age limits?” Jane asked, “Because I don’t think I’m allowed to drink.” Technically, she was old enough to drink, but she did not want to have to answer why she looked like she was in her late teens despite being as old as she was. And she doubted people lived as long as she had in the first place, so she just decided to say that she was eighteen.

“Cannot drink until twenty five for human,” Saltless replied, “Is age when human brain matures fully. No alcohol for you,” he said, “Coffee and stimulant fine. Good for brain in moment.” She, again, had little to be worried about in terms of physical health. Alcohol did as little to her wellbeing as a shot of gaseous nitrogen and oxygen did a normal human. She just nodded, and he led her into the building.

The front lobby was well decorated. It was a strange, ‘futuristic’ reinterpretation of art deco design, with tables and chairs scattered all over, and some large glass areas filled with water, almost like an aquarium, but with furniture being used at that moment. There was also a bar beside a staircase going higher into the building, with a line of filled seats in front of it and a stoic bartender behind it. The room was filled with people of all walks of life. Scrappy, astrosuit-clad bounty hunters mingled with the children of wealthy families. Doctors shared shots of espresso with their patients. The rough, worn hands of mechanics and laborers held the hands of refined, unburdened hands of office workers and bureaucrats as they all silently wept or cheered or shared something special between them.

Saltless passed the scenes of solidarity without stopping for anything. They eventually reached the back of the room, beside the bar and at the staircase. The Meytvani bartender and Saltless shared eye contact, briefly, and the former gave a subtle nod. Jane pretended not to notice, and followed Saltless up the stairwell, going up a single flight of stairs before entering the second floor. There was a room similar to the bottom floor there, though not as large and with fewer people sitting around and enjoying their drink of choice. Along the walls of the room, though, there were doors with little tags on them, denoting them as either occupied or unoccupied. Without looking for very long, Saltless walked into one of the rooms with an ‘occupied’ tag on it.

Inside, there was a nice table, a wrap-around couch, and a monitor above the door, all of which were in the same ‘neo art deco’ style. Sitting at one of the couches, his shell resting on the couch while his mouth, eye stalks, and tendrils stuck out from it, grasping at a coffee cup and small plate of biscuits, was another Gilvan, “Hi,” the Gilvan greeted, “Not seen in while, Saltless,” he added, sipping on his coffee a moment later, “Before ask, not coffee. Katche. Gilvan coffee.”

“Not poisonous,” Saltless added, hauling himself up onto the seat beside the other Gilvan, “This Trailless. This Jane. You give ID?” Saltless asked. Jane sat down beside Saltless, noticing a tablet-menu on the table that she picked up and skimmed through. It was not just divided into alcohol and coffee, it was divided into uppers and downers, and then-- because she went into the uppers section-- into nearly a dozen different substances. Coffee, tea, katche, leguin, brula, there were a lot. And, after choosing coffee as her poison of choice, the list was divided further, into hundreds upon hundreds of options. In the end, she ended up buying a mocha iced coffee. She had no idea what it was, because she never touched caffeine or any other physical drug back home, but she was eager to try.

Saltless gave her a look and she sighed, “I’m paying, alright?” she answered, as if the question written on the Gilvan’s face was asked out loud. Saltless sighed, but turned back to Trailless.

“So, have ID?” he asked his friend. The other Gilvan nodded, pulling out a comslate, which Saltless took and immediately handed over to Jane, “Thanks, friend. Want watch broadcast? Is important,” Saltless offered.

Trailless bobbed his eye stalks, “Want. But, on right now,” he said, pulling out his own comslate and pressing it a few times. The screen above the doorway turned on in an instant, and there was a slide, showing a notice that the broadcast would start soon. Jane studied the slide, noticing the little details, like the themes of stars, rays of light, and eyes. Not a minute later, the slide dimmed, then the feed switched to a podium.

After a moment of silence, thunderous applause erupted from the small speakers in the room. At the same time, a person, a Seeker, walked up behind the podium, dressed in a fashionable suit. The applause continued for a moment longer, then died down. After another moment of silence, the Seeker man stood tall, “Good day, night, evening, or morning to everyone watching this historical broadcast. I am Chancellor Aeren. As we all know, recent events have led our League to troubled times. Approximately five days ago, the galaxy changed in a fundamental way, its course irrevocably shifted to a new, uncertain future. At that time, every man, woman, child, person, beast, Virtual Intelligence, Artificial Intelligence, and everything else with a Mind fell into a restless slumber. During that slumber, the state of the galaxy was changed. Some were changed physically. Others were altered mentally. Some had their Mind’s changed in mysterious, yet unexplored ways.

“Many names have been given to this event, and to the new force that permeates our galaxy. Some call this the Awakening. Some call it the End. Some call the force all around us now anomalies. Others are so sure to call it magic. Whatever it is, it has changed people, animals, and everything. In the wake of such a monumental change, the Technology Regulation Committee has set forth a series of guidelines, which will be released later this standard day.” He paused for a moment, his eye dilating for a moment before steadying itself, “I will be honest. We do not know what happened. There are hints, but the cause of the recent Awakening has eluded the brightest minds of the League. For now.

“We will discover what occurred. We will dig to the deepest level of this mystery. In the end, you, citizens of the League, will know what happened.” He paused for a moment, resting a hand on his chest, “The future is uncertain, and I do not know what is to come. But, I do know this: We have a choice.” His voice slowed, “We can either sink into the abyss. We can let this event ruin what we, as a society, have built. We can let our astrodocks rust to ruins and our worlds collapse around us. We can become husks of our former selves.

“Or we can rise.” Then, his voice rose, “We can look up from our uncertainty, and our fear. We can endure the loss and the sorrow. We can become stronger. Not as a military, nor a nation. But as a people. So, I ask this: Who’s with me?” His final words rang out in the chamber, filled with the important and powerful, and there was silence. Then, there was a clap. Then another. Then another pair. Then the chamber was filled with the thunderous applause of hundreds, thousands of people, all of whom gave their hearts out to the man at the podium. “Thank you,” the Chancellor said, “We may face hardships. We may face adversity. We may face things that we could never conceive. But, I can certainly conceive this: We can do thi-” Before his final word was spoken, the podium erupted into a massive gout of flame. It was not just any flames, though. Jane recognized those red flames.

She internally sighed a mournful sigh. She knew who caused those fires, or at least who gave someone the power to cause those fires, and she doubted that it was her teacher. She could think of one person, but she could not jump to conclusions.

She watched as the chamber at the other end of the broadcast immediately descended into madness, people running around, screaming, one brave Ukalan even running up to the podium and using magic to summon a pressurized hose of water. Water did nothing to the flames, though, and Jane gave a silent farewell to the Chancellor. He appeared to be a good man, and not someone deserving to have their souls burned away in a soulfire.

After a few seconds, the broadcast cut off, showing a ‘technical difficulties’ slide instead of the ghastly sight before. Jane turned to the pair of Gilvan, and they stared at the screen, eyes wide, mouth tube slacking. “Not expected…” Saltless said, putting a pair of tendrils on the table, “Not good…”

“Agreed,” Trailless agreed, raising his mug and taking a mournful sip of his katche, “Was great man. Maybe even best. But, now gone… No chance of surviving, right?” Trailless asked. Jane almost jumped to answer, but she caught herself; she knew how bad it would be to let slip that she knew how the death happened.

“Don’t think so,” Saltless replied, “What now?” he asked.

Jane turned to the pair, “We do what he said,” she said, her apparent determination only somewhat of a fabrication, “We can weather every storm, suffer any loss, and grow stronger. Not as a military, nor a nation, but as a people.”

They looked at her, then at each other, then their eye stalks bobbed in unison, “Agreed,” Trailless answered.

“Agreed as well,” Saltless added, “But, what actually now?”

Jane gave the Gilvan an annoyed look, “I don’t know, captain, what now?” The Gilvan started at the phrase, looking at her face quickly, before bobbing his eye stalks. He pulled out his comslate-- she still did not know where they kept them-- and began to rapidly type on it. She turned to Trailless, who held out a tendril, telling her to wait.

A few moments later, Saltless turned away from his comslate and to Jane, “We have new job. We go to Hellania III, sector capital. Bought goods. Will sell there. Good?”

Jane nodded, “Good.” She turned to Trailless, giving him a smile, “I’m sorry that our first meeting went so poorly, but I hope your day does not get any worse.”

Trailless’ mouth tube twitched, in a sort of smile, “Will hope as well. Hope for you too.” He turned to Saltless, “You leave now?”

“Leave now,” Saltless affirmed, “We need do our part. Hope you do your part too. No, know you do your part too. See another time, Friend Trailless.” The pair closed in, and gave each other a sort of hug, before separating. After a minute of cleaning up-- and Jane getting her mocha iced coffee to go-- they left the place of drinks and talk, returning to Saltless’ station. When they boarded, they still had a while to go before the cargo was loaded onto the bottom part of the station, so Jane lounged in the resting area, sipping her iced coffee. “You alright?” Saltless asked, climbing up to the seat opposite her, “Not so out of it so far. Must have hurt?”

Jane shook her head, “I… don’t know. Why? Why after such a speech? Why not before? Was he made to be a martyr? Was it just some prick with a horrible-- well, kind of brilliant, actually-- sense of dramatic timing? It’s all so… confusing. And infuriating. People need someone to look up to. And someone killed him…”

“Life not always fair,” Saltless replied, “But life have reason. Death have reason. Nothing is simple coincidence. Terran butter fly flapping wings cause hurricane. Death of star million years ago kill good station captain tomorrow. Cannot change. Accept, and move on. Become… stronger.” Jane just nodded, internally worried about what someone with access to soulfire could do if left unchecked. Saltless seemed to have taken her concerned expression in a different way, though, “You need rest,” he said, “Go, sleep. Can handle from here.”

Jane just numbly nodded, returning to her room. Jan’hel’vin had a call to make, after all, and Saltless could not be allowed to see it.

 

*=====*

 

“Okay, little buddy, you ready to meet your uncle?” she asked, “Well, your great uncle, technically. You’re like my kid, and my uncle’s your grandmothers’ sibling-- you know what, it’s not that important.” She huffed at herself as she drew the last rune on the metal ground in her room. Getting the materials for a proper, material-attuned rune under the constant, if unintentional, supervision of Saltless was actually quite easy. Magic was a wild thing, and if she wanted blood, it would be happy to give her blood.

Her little golem buddy watched as she drew concentric circles, odd letters, and everything in between as she set up her spell. Eventually, he just hopped onto her shoulder, sitting there with surprising stubbornness, despite Jane’s movement.

After adding the final touches to the rune, Jane stood and admired her work, “Wonderful. The blood could have come from a psychic dragon or something, but that’s fine. Now, ready, little guy?” she asked. The little golem hopped up and down, and she chuckled, “Good. Now, get ready!” Jane held out her hands, a small blob of light appearing above her hands. A moment later, the blob of light dispersed into a trillion trillion tiny beams of light, curving around her body and her soul. Once the beams made their rounds, they shot towards the runes on the ground, and Jane felt both her and her little golem’s souls lose their connections with their normal bodies. Another moment passed, and a new sensation hit her. It was the smell of paper and ink and stamps. And of a wolf.

Jane turned to the desk in front of her, finding herself in an old-fashioned office, and came face to face with her uncle, “Greetings, child. If I was not mistaken, you were going on a trip without Mori… Do you require something?” he asked.

Jane narrowed her eyes at the wolf. He was large, larger than any normal human, in a sort of business suit. He also had a pair of glasses on his face, which seemed comically small for his large frame. “Uncle, did you make any deals in the dimension I’m in?” she asked. Her voice was a bit distorted-- one of the problems with astral projection, a field of magic she had actually pioneered-- but that was only an issue when she used it for deception.

“Hmm…” the wolf hummed, turning to the side. A book floated from a desk across the room, flying over to the wolf’s desk and flipping rapidly, “No, I cannot say I have. I have been scoping out a pair of quite wrathful candidates to receive vengeance, but I have not made a move yet. Why, what is the matter, child?”

Jane’s eyes widened, “Wait, so you didn’t give anyone soulfire?” she asked.

The wolf sputtered as he rose, “N-No! I would never let such a thing fall into such a magically primitive people!” He paused for a moment, “Do you really think so little of me?” he asked.

Jane sighed, walking up to him and giving him a hug, “Of course not, Uncle Hel,” she soothed, “You and teacher are the only ones I know of who has access to soulfire so readily, and I doubt Uncles Veks would so readily burn their strength…”

“That is mostly correct, child. None of the others among us have such access to soulfire, but there is one person who might. And that same person likely has few qualms about using such a dangerous, distasteful magic…” Uncle Hel paused for dramatic effect, to which Jane gave a curious look, “This is the part where you are supposed to guess, child.”

“Oh,” Jane replied, giving a sheepish smile, “Um… is it that mean, tall guy, Selviki?”

“It is…” Uncle Hel confirmed, “He is vengeful, spiteful, and only sees hate. He does not care if he has to hurt innocent people to complete his goals. Your teacher was able to banish him so far away from us that he had to spend a hundred years returning. But he did spend that time. In spite of everything…”

“Teacher was there to kill him, wasn’t she?” Jane asked, snuggling up to her Uncle’s fur. It was nice. Soft and comfy, in fact, “He hurt everyone.”

“He did,” Uncle Hel answered, “But if soulfire is spreading, it means that either someone there developed it, or that he is making a move so soon.” He pulled away from Jane, returning to his desk. Another book floated over to him, and he immediately flipped to the back of it, putting a claw to the page, “I hate to interrupt her vacation time, but it seems that we need as many fingers on this pulse as we can spare,” he muttered, turning to Jane, “I am sending Duchess Hiltas to help root this slimy worm out. If you run into her, try to help as much as you can. But, if not, then simply continue doing whatever you were doing.”

“Okay, Uncle,” Jane replied, already feeling a smidgen of fatigue from the spell. She yawned, “I think I need to go back. I’m starting to feel some strain on my soul. I might exhaust myself at this rate. And teacher doesn’t like it when I exhaust myself…”

“She does not. Now, then. Head off to bed. It is for the best.” Jane nodded, and immediately dispelled the spell. Her soul’s connection to her body was restored, and she nearly fell from a sudden wave of fatigue. She groaned, looking at the mess on the floor. She could just leave it for whenever she woke up… but then Saltless might see it. And she did not want to explain why there were blood drawings on the ground. With a flick of her wrist, one that sent aches through her soul, the ground was immaculately cleaned, as if the blood had never been there in the first place.

She collapsed onto the bed a moment later, and fell into a deep sleep. Her little golem climbed off her shoulder, and curled up in her pocket, guarding his creator and master.