-Demetrius-
He woke in zero gee. The pull of a world had left him, and in the tight confines of the cold sleep tank he felt gangly and uncoordinated. His limbs felt weak, and the glare of phosphorous leds above his head were bright spears of stabbing light in his corneas.
"Captain Vasquez, please be careful." Quay's voice was pleasant, almost bell like in its accent-less tonality. "Something has happened captain, and it is beyond the scope of my limited functionality to deal with the situation as it is." He couldn't focus on the A.I's voice. The lights were boring into his head.
"Wha…" He coughed his throat was dry, and though he knew the words Quay was saying, knowing them and understanding them was two different things. His thoughts were a foggy blur, as if every idea he had was at the bottom of a frozen lake and though the surface was just there and thin membrane of fogged ice that stopped his thoughts from breaching to the surface.
"Captain Vasquez, this is an emergency situation. Do you consent to Forgo the standard cold sleep reawakening drugs in favor of emergency stimulant complex 9134-C?" Quay's voice was calm. It was always calm. "You may refuse captain, but as per article 103.4.2 refusal shall result in the immediate termination of your contract, and a cessation of rank, duties, and licenses as provided by Sol Union charter 34.2.1 The Weaponized Human Developments act." It paused for a few moments without saying a word.
"Captain Vasquez, do you consent?"
"Y-yes." He uttered. His throat was so dry. "I consent." He felt the cool press of a sterilized needle pushing into the stim port into his left leg. His head cleared, it felt as if that thick fog had been burned away by the searing light of the noonday sun.
"Water, I need water." There was a quiet hiss, and the muted jingle of a bell. He moved his head to his left, and took a sip from the plastic tube near his face. With a heavy sigh, he stood up, the lethargy in his muscles were starting to fade, and as the seconds passed his thoughts came to him faster and faster.
Demetrius sat up in the cold sleep pod, his eyes dry and stinging his hands heavy on the cold carbo-plastic material beneath his fingers. Its blue-black colors reflected a rainbow over the tight narrow curves of its cylindrical shape. He took a few moments to watch the bands of color curl and twist
"Captain Vasquez, it has now been more than three minutes since your awakening, system monitoring indicates mental functions should be at peak performance." Quays voice was quipped and courteous, it always was by design. "We are in an emergency situation captain Vasquez, I have reached the end of the allowable tolerances on my free range of actions and I now need the input of a commanding officer to proceed."
Demetrius shook his head. Focus, he thought, he needed to focus.
"Situation report." He voice was a deep low growl, escaping from the depths of his immense chest.
A three dimensional graph appeared before his eyes. Tran's-planner vectors and quantum sub strings interactions graphs layering together in multiple colors. The output reading of Q.S.G could only be somewhat understood by human onlookers in a third dimensional shape. He looked at the graph, it was more like a massive sphere, its edges wavering and wobbling like a jagged voxel representation of the earth.
Quay rotated it for him, then he watched as the spinning line of purple in the globe dropped, moving from its constants fluctuation into a steep deep decline into the spheroid. That was not supposed to happen. And as suddenly as the line had formed it twisted and took a jagged turn back up rejoining the rest of the sphere.
"There was a fluctuation in the substring mechanisms that control the Q.S.G." The Q.S.G. or Quantum Substring Field Generator was less of an engine, and more a massive atom smasher. It swung heavy metal nucleic atoms together in order to create gravitons. Magnetic fields spun the gravitons in a computed waveform that created a gravitational wave field around the ship. Those gravitational waves moved space around the ship, rather than moving the ship itself allowing faster than light travel. "The gravitational wave field that results from the Q.S.Q, failed. From the failed wave field instability occurred, and now erroneous data is being read by my sensors."
"Erroneous datum?" Suddenly his field of vision was filled with graphs, lines, and vectors. Data structures and reference points.
"Stop!" He groaned. "Stop, Quay. Summarize, keep it to my rated level of physics understanding." He stopped for a moment. "Wake doctor McLaren while you're at it, and whoever she deems appropriate to comb over that data. When they're ready have them meet me in conference room three. " He looked down at his body, it was still in the cold sleep tube. He grunted pulled the drug supplement tubes from access nodes on his legs and chest and stood.
"Are there any emergency actions that need to be taken at this time?" He walked the metal corridors of the cold sleep bay. After a few moments he was free of its location.
The Grace of the Wind was a third gen standardized Sol Union colonization ship. It was meant to take five hundred highly trained and skilled colonist with all the resources it would ever need over interplanetary distances to new worlds. Casting the seeds of humanity through the dark depths of space to new fields in which to lay. It was a large ship, about the size of a small mountain. Two thousand meters in length or so, eight hundred in width it and five hundred in height it took an average of an hour to walk from one end of the ship to another. As a result a small fleet of transport carts ferried people from one area to another as was needed.
One of those carts were waiting for him when he exited the cold sleep bay.
"Captain Vasquez, the summary report is ready." Quay called to him as he dialed captain's quarters into the transport cart.
"Well, go ahead then." He lay back and listened.
"This list is in order of most alarming. Erroneous datum includes, discrepancies with calculated star references, failure in the Quantum Substring Field Generator, spectral analysis discrepancies in the closest star." He frowned as she spoke, his distaste growing steadily. "Data inconsistencies, and reference discrepancies warrant wakening my from cold sleep months ahead of schedule?"
"Of course they do." Quay responded. He sat in silence, listening only to the soft noise of rubber wheels running over the smooth metal surface of the ship's deck. As they approached his room a white box appeared in the corner of his right eye. A voice was heard in his ear before the image of the beautiful appeared in that box.
"Captain."
He smiled, though she wouldn't be able to see it. He had no way to send a video feed to her, though, his implants did let him send sub vocalized audio feed. She was angry yet, even though her face did not show it, the tonality of her voice, and her terse use of his name said it all.
" ." He made his voice sound jovial. "I take it your rest was well?"
"I." She stated tersely, lips smacking together to punctuate her words. "Do not appreciate your jokes captain. It surprises me how a man as yourself can put in charge of this ship with no scientific understanding of how basic systems work." Her golden eyes seemed to glow in the little box in the lower left corner of his vision. He pressed his hands to his forehead and rubbed his the skin there in exhaustion. She'd been this way long before they'd left for Vita-3-c, ever since the Sol Union had declared him as captain rather than her. That had been a year before they even went into cold sleep, and the woman's anger even now seemed incapable of fading.
"I apologize if I don't have quite your expertise on the subject matter of multi-spatial quantum quantum gravitational field theory." He found he dug deeper into her skin by being happy, and so he kept his voice as upbeat as he could. "But that's why I have you as the head of staff on the engineering department." He smiled, though he was sure she couldn't see it.
"So, report." She sighed, her slender brows furrowing in a poor attempt to hide her displeasure with him.
"I think you should awaken the other department heads. I have Quay running the numbers, and trying to simulate what's going to happen. If it's then we'll need to make a decision as what to do from now. Our time is limited. It's alarming what the data is telling us, extremely alarming."
"You can't tell me anything right now?"
She seemed even more annoyed. "Not without being redundant no." A quiet beep sounded and the chat window with her face closed. Demetrius sighed, while they'd been talking the transport cart had stopped before the captain's quarters. He stepped out, walked to the black slate surface and pressed a palm against the door. It chimed and opened for him.
He walked in, and looked around. Little had changed in his eight months of cold sleep, though the room was cleaner than it had been before. It was a little larger than a master's bedroom and a synthetic fabric hammock acted as his bed. He walked to the back of the room, pressed his hands once more against the door, and waited for the hydraulic hiss that would announce the unlocking of his storage bins. They slid out to him, and he pulled his captains garb from the thin metal boxes.
Undressing only took him a few moments. He changed from the drab grey garb of that marked those fresh out of cold sleep, into a sharp black suit. The coat was obsidian and dark, no light reflected off it surface. It buttons were meteoric steel, and on shoulder blades were the twin bodies of the sun and Jupiter. The sun was gold, and etched with intricate detail, an orb with a wide arcing ringlets of plasma reaching out into the black depths of his suite. Jupiter was small in comparison to the majesty of the sun, but its bronze body was partially, intentionally, oxidized to create the illusion of the giant worlds continent sized shifting cloud fields. Around it were shining ringlets of bronze. Both these lay within a jagged circle made of steel asteroids.
He clipped the rank pin to his collar. It was a silver and opal ship, jagged and sharp, its shape as iconic as the image of the North American old west cowboy. The Reaper Falcon was a jagged rough ship, made from necessity and birthed from human ingenuity. It had been in the Reaper Falcons that those early settlers had set out in, first to the asteroid belt, forming homes and miniature biomes in the cores of mountain sized rocks floating in space. Then to the outer worlds, seeding man on little ringlets, and moons, and finally to the last bastion of the solar system past Kuiper belt and into the Oort cloud. Its arrow like shape, it sudden edges and late 21st century stylings were burned into the mind of every human born in the Sol Union.
It was for this reason, that the Sons and Daughters of Sol wore the pin to signify their rank.
He finished buttoning up his coat, buckled his belt, and slid on the dark leather boots of his shoes. When he was done with that, Demetrius left his room, and sat back inside the rolling transport cart. The small vehicle was open to the high ceiling of the ship's hallway, letting bright daylight toned LEDs illuminate the small transport cart. It created a strange play of light as if he was in constant high noon on a bright clear earth day.
He got what he was expecting when he entered conference room three. Five people sat around a black meteorite table, in front of each of them was a steaming cup of coffee, and next to each cup was a blue stim pack. He moved to the head of the table, pulled the plastic roller chair out of the way, and plopped himself into the seat. He could feel their annoyed gazes piercing into him. Better to get things out of the way then.
"Hello again ." Other than him, she was the only one not in the drab grey shawl that was standard cold sleep attire. Catarina spoke up before he could speak again. Her husky voice drawled out in the thick accent of someone born on mars, her speech stilted with the thick Brazilian Portuguese accent of the original settlers.
"Dem." His eyes trailed to her, her legs were crossed on the table. She was pale as as the light from a full moon on a clear earth day. Catarina's red hair shone like burnished copper in the bright lights of the LEDs. "Ame, please cut that bullshit between you and Mari out. Either you fuck, or stop talking to each other." She flicked her fingers in the slow lingering movements of one used to years of light gravity rather than either none, or the full weight of the earth. Her fingers motioned to him, then to and flickered in a motion that seemed to convey disgust. Catarina's eyes were the color of a grass field, speckled with rust and gold. It made her eyes seem to glow almost preternaturally, and it was these eyes that watched both of them.
"Catarina" Mari called out. Her golden eyes were burning with anger. Demetrius sat back, watching with some interest. People seemed to be at their worst after cold sleep, and the effects could take days to wear off, and that was with the best of the drugs.
He took a sip of the coffee, and grabbed the stim pack. He glanced at the label, stim simplex C34-df. He raised an eyebrow. C43-df was strong stuff, an amphetamine grown from gene spliced yeast back on earth. It was meant to be used no more than once every couple days. He slid the stim into his pocket. When he had the chance he'd place it in his room for later use.
Mari was a tall, tall woman. She was born belt side, out where the sun was a bright pinprick against a field of stars and where gravity had no sway. She stood over seven feet tall, with a halo of thick brown black hair in tight curls. As much a sign of her mother's heritage as her caramel skin and golden eyes. Thin fingers, from once thin fragile bones, pointed at the redheaded woman. Then they dropped, and the anger slid from her face. was good at that. Letting the anger go when she wanted, at least temporarily.
"I don't have time for this." She made another hand gesture and a video feed window appeared in Demetrius's vision. It took up the majority of his sight. They were graphs, and three dimensional models of plan substrate. "We are dead in the water." He wondered if she had said that to illicit a response. No one responded, they all knew that speaking up was pointless, and in a few moments she'd explain what she meant.
The graphs became prominent in his vision, the one he was seeing was the fluctuating graph quay had initially given him upon wakening. It stretched out, showing the readings before he'd been awakened, the sections where the normal hills and valleys peaked then flat lined were no longer there. Instead there was a sharp peak, going far higher than any other previous peak in the graph by order of magnitudes before flat lining there. Sometime later after that flat line an entirely new curve began with new peaks and flat lines on a different cure.
"As you can see, about ten hours ago there a severe spike in gravitons from the sensor readings. Shortly after graviton output flat lined, before returning to a new parameter range. At the same time other sensor output data showed a massive spike in radiation, and a slight shift change that shouldn't be possible. We had a change from the ultraviolet normally seen in Q.S.G. transport shift high, return back to the inferred, and go back to normal visual light range. I've had quay crunching the numbers and cross-referencing the data."
"Ahh," The voice was childlike, and Demetrius's eyes shifted to massive form of Tye. The massive head of Informations Systems clouded milk like eyes were moving in rapid shifts. Demetrius took a second to view what the man viewing, and saw dozens of windows of data was being shifted through all at once. "I see. Deadn'e be us, ya?" Tye asked in the twinged accent of the rocks surrounding the Ort.
"Yes" continued. "We should be dead, Doctor Tyliai. The Q.S.G. failed at some point and we collapsed into a singularity."
He chose that moment to speak up. "Were in a black hole?"
"No. We are a black hole, at lease observed from outside the singularity. The problem is we didn't die when the QSG failed and the singularity even occurred. We have no idea what happens when you enter a singularity, technically we're supposed to be atomic base components. We obviously are not. This about the second problem, and why I asked the Captain to call the various department heads here. The main means of propulsion is defunct. The Q.S.G. isn't working. It's collecting gravitons, and that's why we still have shipboard gravity." She stopped for a moment to breath. "But the magnetic fields that let us grab onto quantum substrings and move space around us aren't doing that. It's as if the entirety of the quantum subspace suddenly stopped responding as it should. We still have ion engines, and using them we can get a decent speed going. But nothing even close to the speed of light, let alone faster than light travel."
Catarina spoke up then. His eyes rolled to her lithe form. Her eyes were also distracted with an unseen layers of information. "We'll be lucky to hit one percent of C."
Mari spoke up again. "This brings about our third situation. I wouldn't call it and problem per say, just something we should take into consideration before deciding what we are to do from here on out. Scans show a planet in the habitable zone about seven hundred Astronomical Units from here. The star it orbits is about the size of the earth, and spectral analysis shows the world's blue-green meaning plant life, considerable amounts of plant life to be honest. The simple fact is, we have no way of getting back home, and we are lost. We only have supplies for a year and a half's journey even at reduced crew, and a trip to this world will take us about nine months travel time. For non Q.S.G Travel well need a full crew to maintain the ship's systems. So we have to make our choice now."
Mari stopped for a moment to take a look at Dem. "Well you have to make the decision. You're the captain."
He turned to the only department head who had not yet spoken. Bheke was the head of In ship security and the Chief Officer after him. The woman was also a Daughter of SOL. She was also a stunningly beautiful woman, her skin dark and rich, a sign of her purely west african descent. Her hair was cropped close to her head much like his was, and her form could only be described tight, and fit. Her accent was twinged with the sounds of her native dialect.
"Thiz," She said. "Thiz is good. When should we find 'nother blue-green wrold? Fifty, maybe Hundred light years ifun we lucky. Spent a few thousand years in cold tanks?" She paused and stared at each person. Her words made sense. If they didn't take this they would need to find some other world, or other place to settle. And doing so would mean spending years traveling from to star on ION engines with tightly controlled cold sleep shifts. "Taken' a change twat all life about. I say we'un do it."
Dem stopped for a moment, thought it over, then spoke. "We're a colony ship, if there's a livable world then we should colonize it."
-Eddard-
It was in the woods that he saw them. At first they were a glimmer, a ghost of an image of men moving amongst the trees, the barest hints of an outline of something. He thought his eyes were playing a farce, a falsehood of vision and light that occurred sometimes when the sun cast its rays just right about the forest. Still, he had been ambushed before.
"Who's there, I saw you. Come out and face me like men." His voice traveled through the wood, ringing like a bell against the thick bark of the trees. Men moved from the trees, slid from the shrub, and branches like wraiths. Light itself seemed to flow over their flesh like water over a stream. It was disconcerting.
Five men in total came from the woods. Their faces could not be seen, they wore strange garb. The clothes dyed in shades of green and grey. They had strange contraptions on their heads. A half helm shaped as it were a bowl, with clothes over their mouths. Thier eyes were hidden away behind glass lenses, each one a deep dark green hue. Strange men, Eddard decided.
That they hid their faces did little to win good will with him. Rarely did honest and honorable men need to hide their faces. They moved as a group,with the shortest man at the head. Though, one could not easily call a man who stood at least at six and two short. Each man carried a strange contraption in his hand, though by the way they carried them eddard could tell they were weapons of one sort or another. All less the leader at the head of the troupe.
"Halt." He called as the moved from the wood. They stood before him now. They were all tall men, and broad of shoulders as well. They stopped, but not at his command. The shortest one had held his hand high in a closed fist and the four others had healed at his command like trained dogs.
Though they held no blades, the way they held themselves gave him the impression that the men before him were warriors of sorts.
"Who are you men?" He asked. "What purpose do you have, sliding through the woods like snakes through the grass." The leader stilled and his head tilted to the side. He nodded then spoke in an accent eddard had never heard before.
"U, lord, this place?"
Eddard stared at the men before him,somewhat confounded he spurred his horse closer. "If you are to speak to me," he said. " Let me see your face. Only brigands and men of ill repute hide their faces so."
The man focused on the words. His head was bowed in the effort and Eddard heard a sigh of frustration escaped his lips. He turned to the other four men in his company eyes. They exchanged words in a tongue eddard had never heard before and then, after a moment another of the men stepped forwards. He lay the strange device he held in his hand on the ground. He knelt to the ground.
The man had a satchel on his back. It was designed in a way he'd never seen before. Made of yet more strange fabric with yet stranger leader of the men pulled a piece of rolled parchment from his subordinates back. He pulled several more pieces of parchment from satchel. He laid three in total on the road, and eddard realized they were maps.
The quality of the things was incredible. Intricacies, and details heaped upon one another. It was a map of the north, and even from here he could see it was beyond any map he had seen before. Winterfell and all its towers lay in bird's eye view. Small streams and peasants farms could be see all the way from the neck to the wall. The detail was stunning, the dyes and inks used to make it we're bright and striking. Blue and greens melted with slights hints of red, brown and black. The entirety of The North laid before him. The other map contained a map of the Seven Kingdoms, similarly detailed.
The leader of the men stepped back, and took off his half-helm. Then removed the fabric and the strany colored glass from before his eyes. The man seemed of noble birth for his face was handsome, as far as Eddard could judge such matters. His skin was bronze, his eyes the color of the sky. His hair was cut closely to his head, almost bald, but what he could see of it was dark black against his skin. He smiled at eddard, and straight white teeth gleamed against pink gums. He seemed to be of Dornish stock, as close to it as one could be without being a Dornishman.
"I no speak,I not speak common tongue good. I sorry if rude. You lord, this place?" His gloved hand pointed to the finely detailed map of the North. The man who had kneeled had resumed his place, the satchel on his back. Eddard noticed that now each man had a similar satchel on his back.
"Indeed." He spoke out. "I am Lord Eddard Stark, head of house stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North." The man before him seemed to nod as he spoke. When he finished he smiled.
"We are, Sol Union." He started, his speech had lapsed back to that strange language of his as he spoke. "We sky people?" He frowned. "We come from sky. Fall. Great ship break, so we fall. Land here." He pointed to a place some twenty miles from winterfell, just under a day's ride if they stopped to water and feed the horses often. "We fall two fortnights ago. Two fortnights and five days."
Eddard remembered that. The falling star. It had been shortly after dusk when a second sun had blared in the night's sky. Maester Luwin had said "My Lord, the star when it falls, a great explosion shall be heard and the land should shake in the wake of its nights. This has happened before, in the old books they say that each falling star brings with it change. It is rumored,my Lord, that before the Aegon the Conqueror first made landfall from DragonStone that a great star had also fallen some miles in the ocean, from the old island fortress."
They had gathered to watch it fall, and as the sun had set it rose again from the wrong direction. The blaring light had lit all of winterfell in its iridescence, it had punched its way through clouds and shrieked like a dying man as it fell. A great sound had occurred as it had fallen, like thunder yet tenfold louder. This hunting expedition, had in part been because he wanted to see what had happened to the falling star.
"We come to ask help." The man spoke again. "To ask stay. Please lord Eddard Stark." The man had fumbled over eddards name and title. Yet his words seemed earnest. Eddard looked at the five men, then looked about him. He had twelve men in his hunting party, with Jon, and Robb both that made fifteen in total including himself. A day's ride was not so bad, they could rest the horses, and should the need to flee arise they would not have to kill their horses doing so.
"Please follow to ship. Our..." He stopped. Thought hard again. "Yes. Our War Chief ask you to come. To follow we. We give food, water, gold if you follow, maps to." He made an open handed sign and the men each took the satchels off their back. They opened them, and lay their contents on the ground. More maps, detailed. One for each region of the Seven Kingdoms. Gold bars were laid plain before them, dozens of gold bars. "We give you now, if not follow we give. If follow we give and more."
The leader of the men stepped back and Eddard stood. His eyes watched the gold bars, then turned to the men. They were still a few feet burther back from the gold and maps. In the noon-day sun the gold glittered and flickered, yellow light moved across the road like a siren's song. Each one of those bars would be worth hundreds of gold stags.
He made no motion to approach. He had no need for gold, he was a man of honor and if these people had such need, then he would aid in the capacity that he could.
"I will follow you to your... your gold, though I will accept the gift of the maps. Never before have I seen such fine creations, you must have skilled Mappers." A ship that sailed the night skies. These men did not speak the common tongue so well, and he doubted the ship did indeed sail the skies. Though he believed that was the closest to the truth they could manage with such little knowledge of the common tongue. "Do you men have horses?"
They looked confused, and he patted the beast beneath himself. Their eyes rose, and they shook their heads. "No, no." He stated calmly. "No need we run. You follow on." Another pause. "You follow on horse?" He nodded, and smiled upon recalling the word. "You follow on horse, we move fast. You follow fast please."
Eddard looked somewhat confused. Were they claiming to be able to outrun horses, or perhaps they had some other way to move about. Well no need to worry about the subject, he decided. The truth about the matter would appear in time.
He turned to his hunting party and spoke. "We will follow these men to their leader. Be prepared, if this should prove a treason of some sort." He turned to Rob and Jon both and eyed them. "Should we face danger, I expect to too of you to make haste back to Winterfell. You are almost men, but not men quite yet. You should not waste your lives on my foolish curiosity."
The boys nodded and he turned back to face the strange men. They were ready to go. "Lets us depart then." They then started to run, it started as a light jog, that then turned into a full spring. He spurred his horse he was galloping at full speed, yet the men remained were outpacing horses. Eddard stark felt amazed. Men should not be able to keep pace with horses, let alone outpace them. They rode for three hours before Eddard called for them to halt the horses.
The horses and his own riders glistened with sweat, and the breath came off them in great heavy sighs. The men they followed seemed to not be bothered by it at all. While they sweat somewhat, the feat of outpacing horses for three hours hard riding seemed to be no more surprising and startling to them than the act of breathing. They pulled hard steel tubes from their satches and all took long swigs of some drink. As they let the horses graze Eddard watched the men, worry now starting to creep itself along his spine. Strange men indeed.
Jon was the first other than him to speak to the man. His voice called out to them as the strange men stretched and conversed amongst themselves. "Pray tell.." He stopped and stared at the men. "Beg my pardon, I have no note of your titles? What are you?" The men looked at Jon for a moment before turning to their leader, the shortest of the men.
"We, men who fight. Men who fight, for people. For brothers, for sisters, for each other. We fight, we fight for land. For we land. We fight, we protects." The leader said. "We made to fight. We good at it." He nodded then.
"You are soldiers?" Jon said, more of a question then a statement. "Born to fight. So then are you knights?" The leader of the men stopped, and thought it over.
"Not knight. Us Marines. I, I corporal." He pointed to himself. Flexing the words and enthesising them. He pointed to the men. "They privates, We good. We made to fight." Made to fight. The words echoed. The speech seemed to take a while.
"Corporal." Jon repeated the words. The man wasn't a knight,but seemed to be a warrior of some skill among his people. If Corporal was his proper title, then as such he would be addressed. "How is it you can outpace horses?" That was something of interest.
The Corporal looked at John. His face contorted into a mask of confusion, then realization, and then frustration. "We made to fight, we made strong, we made fast." As if that explained all. John continued. "You were birthed as such?" The corporal looked at Jon once more, confusion. "You have always been able to run as such." The man eyes brightened. "Yes, we birthed. We birthed able to run good. Run fast." He smiled, perfectly straight white teeth beaming.
As Jon spoke to the strange men, Eddard watched. A race of men from the skies, bithed with the ability to outpace horses. His eyes strayed to their strange weapons. Could the kingdom do anything in the face of an army of such men? Perhaps he should call his banners and end a threat before it rose, and a new reign of men took hold of the seven Kingdoms. After all it had taken only three Targaryens and their dragons to bring heel to the seven kingdoms once upon a time. He cast such thoughts aside, until they proved themselves otherwise, he would trust these men.
The horses had grazed and been watered and they once more started to ride. They rode in silence for four or so hours, and eventually the sky started to darken as dusk moved slowly across the land. When the sun had turned red in its descent into the land, Eddard stark finally saw the great ship they had spoke of.
The contraption took his breath away. It was wrought in steel, and rose higher than even the great Sept of Baelor. A great towering beast, its spires seemed to scrape against the sky, going higher and higher as if attempting to touch the gods themselves. As they approached eddard could see men and woman moving across its surface. Great embers birthed from strange tools, flying away much as Eddard had seen embers do during the forging of steel. Other men looked at the strange contraption and pointed.
Rather than going straight the men swung around to the left, moving in a wide arch and going past the sides of the mountain of steel. This took another hour or so, and soon eddard could see more men. Dozens moving about the structure. Strange men. Eddard was reminded himself. He was dealing with strange men. The great ship had a great opening in it, in which men and strange horseless carriages also wrought in steel poured out. Now that eddard had ridden some what around it, he could tell the ship if one could call such a thing a ship was in the shape of an arrow head.
They rode into the great opening in the ship, a mighty steel ramp had been lowered and from it men and strange devices flowed. Eddard rode his horse towards the ramp, following behind the Corporal and his men. Flameless lamps, embedded into the ceiling and walls light the ramp and made the ship seem as if day. Soon they had reached the ramp, and the sun had set behind them. Night had made its across the land, yet before them its effects remained distant. A man stood out before the ramp. He was tall eddard realized.
All the men he saw were tall. None stood any shorter than six feet and most seemed to climb towards seven. Yet the man who approached him was tall, even amongst this race of seeming giants. He stood closer to eight feet than to seven. He was dark of skin, he seemed more a mix of a Summer Islander and a Dornishman than any man eddard had seen before. His eyes were so light brown they were almost golden, yet the smile adorned on his face made them seem as if to glow. His teeth much like the corporals were white, and perfectly straights.
"You are Lord Eddard stark?" His voice was a deep rumble that seemed to crawl its way out of the depths of his throat. He extended his hand, and Eddard stared, somewhat confused as what to do. "I apologize." The man said. A small smile was now parting his lips.
"It is custom to shake a man's hands when greeting new people in our people's lands. I am Demetrius Vasquez, captain of the Grace of the Wind, Son of Sol, and Commander of the Sol Union Colonial Military Force aboard this ship."Eddard shook His hands, they were like steel, and his palms were absolutely massive. Eddard was not a small man, yet before this giant his own hands seemed almost childlike. Behind him, much to Eddards shock an even larger man and a few other individuals were approaching.
Those approaching carried with them the the air of important men, and the way other others aboard the ship gave way to them gave some weight to their opinions of self import. He watched them approach, and soon he saw up close for the first time the women of these people, and some of the worry he had felt ebbed. He knew of no men, or no armies who took with them their wives, or lordly ladies into battle.
The women were beautiful. One was as pale as milk, with hair red orange like flames, and eyes as green as a verdant field. Behind her a maiden of skin more like bronze than flesh. She too was stunning in her beauty. That maid's eyes were golden, and her hair haloed her beautiful face in tight curls. Most starling was her height. She was the only woman he'd ever seen to stand taller than him.
The summer Islander also held beauty in her own way. Her skin was dark, like night Eddard thought, and yet smooth free of any blemish or imperfection. Her lips were lush, and though her hair was cropped close to her head it acted to enhance her beauty rather than detract it, it made her eyes stand out. Her eyes were fierce grey pools, and her body was lithe and tight. She reminded him of the Shadow cats of the Mountains of the Vale he had glimpsed in his childhood.
The women wore no dresses, rather they wore fabric of strange makes, cut and tailored as if to the indecencies of their bodies. It exposed their ample forms, and of all of them the Summer Islander's form was the most ample.
He moved his eyes from the woman to the even larger man behind them. He had imagined no man could stand taller than Sandor Clegane, yet this man did. He stood somewhere between eight and nine feet, though it was closer to nine than Eddard would have liked. He too was as pale as milk, and his eyes were clouded over in blindness. Yet despite he moved with a confidence and surety of self that could not be explained. He had a great beard, large and flowing down his body, so light was it of color it seemed almost silver in the strange light in which he. Despite the great mane of hair beneath the square he sported he was as hairless as a newborn babe. It was this man that spoke first, and much to eddards surprise the man's voice was light, belllike. Almost a child's.
"We're here Dem. T'was portant ya? Placing te future, sats in orb being used as comun relays. Calabin em a bastard dont goten no time to waste." He spoke in a strange tongue. Odd and lilting as if he had trouble moving his tongue about in his own mouth. It took him far too long to realize it was the same tongue that the colonel had spoken in, yet tilted and twisted in some way. The large man turned to him and spoke. He found it hard to console the vast size of the man with the soft voice that flowed like honey from his mouth.
"Hello lord Eddard. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Tyliai. These are, Mari Mclaren," He pointed to the giantess of a woman, with bronzed skin and golden eyes. "Catarina Courtai she is our most skilled healer." He continued, his arm swinging to the maid as fair as milk. "And Finally Bheke, second in command of the ship, and a Daughter of Sol. "The dark skinned woman bowed to him and he returned the favor. She was a lady of title amongst these people. They all were, or else why bother introducing them at all.
When he had finished speaking the giant of a man also extended a hand. Eddard shook it, and had stared down at it. It was a scarred, and marred in many jagged cuts. He could not help but be reminded of the iron traps he had sometimes used during hunts as he grasped the man's hands. Yet more strangely those numerous uncountable cuts were nothing in the face of the extra thumb the man seemed to have on his hand. He looked to the other hand. That too had six fingers.
"May I ask, why is it you speak the common tongue much better than your men?" He did his best to keep his eyes away from the strangeness. The leader of these strange people responded. "We sent those men out some three weeks before lord eddard. Our people learn skills fast, and a few farmers around here were more than happy to help us in learning the common tongue. We are a people who learn fast."
He looked around and nodded. "Please Lord Eddard follow us, your men too, it is time for us to eat. A day's ride is not so hard, but i assume it will work up one's appetite. We have means to care for your horses." The man called Demetrius, said and so Eddard did.
-Jon-
He was seeing wonders never before seen by men of Westeros, Jon realized. The ship they were in was not wrought in steel as he had thought, rather it was made of steel. The floor they walked on glistened muted silver like a well honed blade. Above them flameless lanterns cast light downward, each one as bright as the sun and banishing all shadows before them. He focused on the world around him, and did his best to keep his eyes of the women who lead them, and spoke in quiet conversations amongst themselves.
"This seems as if a dream." Rob spoke next to him. Rob's voice was soft, a whisper barely spoken and meant to be unheard. Jon shook his head in agreement. His wonder grew, when suddenly to his left without a sound a man appeared. Jon stared, then looked away. It was uncouth to stare at any man.
A few moments later he saw how the man had accomplished such a feat. Before his eyes, without a sound and with no visible means a steel door, that in and of itself a miracle, slid open and a man exited. He nodded at them, his great form towering over those he saw, and moved away from the group. Jon caught the barest glimpse of a room, and soon it slid close behind the stranger, soundless, noiseless.
"That door, how do you suppose it moves as such." He tried to imagine some means and found his mind lacking. Rob started and after a few moments shook his head. He could think of no means either. A soft voice answered him though, calm and slanted a strange mix between small folk speak and the formal tongue of a high lord. A voice that was also tinged with the lilt of her native tongue.
"There are many small teeth in the top of the door, and the wall within the door lies has within it gears. The gears will grab onto the teeth on top of the door and upon a man's wish the gears will push or pull the door aside." Her hair was so dark brown it was almost black, and it ringed her face in a tight halo. Her skin was bronze and her eyes golden.
It was the maiden, Mari Mclaren. He found it hard to tell her age, though it was obvious she was still in the throes of youth. Her height was something of note, and despite it, she seemed especially graceful in all her movements. "And what pray-tell my lady, powers the gears?" She turned towards him, golden eyes bearing down with intensity he'd never felt before. Then, suddenly, she smiled. Great perfectly straight white teeth gleaming at him.
"Electricity." She said. The word was strange, and the meaning more so. Though to her it seemed to explain all things, and perhaps to her people it did.
"Eee-leck-tricity." He sounded the word out on his own. "If you do not mind me being rude my Lady, what is Eee-leck-tricity." He stumbled over the strange word, and its stranger combination of syllables.
Her soft lips pushed up and her face contorted into what could only be taken as frustration. "Captured lightning, is electricity." She smiled satisfied with her answer, as if the notion of capturing lighting and using it to turn gears simply to open and close doors was no great feat. Perhaps to them it was not.
"Were here." The commander of this ship called. They stood before a great steel wall, it was finely etched with symbols, a work that would have taken a week's time a master smith were they working on a proper blade. Still there no handles on the doors, and the man who Jon fancied to leader of this band of strange people pressed his hand to the door. The noise hit them suddenly.
Before them the sounds of hundreds of voices called out. Jon stared, men laughed and jested. Jovila voices filled with good humor, mixed with sweet smells and the scent of cooking meat filled with strange spices. He saw men and women at tables also made of fine steel, the women were lithe and while he thought the men who had met him strange what he saw in this great hall was strange.
There were tall men, and taller men. Some wore no shirts and on their bare chests great artworks of intricate ink danced and moved like living things. The women were all stunning in their beauty and ranged from mile pale, to as dark as ink. The were comly women, and comelier women. The hall was tilled in black stone, that glittered with yellow glass, and steel, and shone it shone like glass. Up above more of those flameless lamps cast daylight in what would have been a dark hall, burning with smoke and dozens of lanterns.
Some men were broad of shoulders and chest, more akin to bears than anything else. Other were lean, and muscles seemed to be coiled tight over their frames from what he could see of them beneath their skin tight clothing. He saw hair of all colors, gold, silver, red, and brown. Rainbow hair that cast the light away in a spewing flow of colors across the maids hair like a flowing river. Eyes of all colors locked onto them all, and silence fell.
"Take as much as you want from tables over there." Food lay on metal trays steaming and hot, meats and puddings and sauces sent steaming scented trails towards into the air. Grains and other strange things he had no name for. Fruits lay on another table, strawberries long out of season, oranges and apples and other fruits that smelled sweet and looked sweeter. Pastries still lay on another table, cakes and more things he had no name for but that looked sweet and drew his attention from even here.
"There are drinks there." The leader of these strange people said. Then he turned and pointed to a chest made of steel with strange hoses extending from its surface. Men walked to it, and placed cups of steel or some other metal to it. Water and drinks colored much like a rainbow trailed down into the metal cups.
"Lord Eddard, you and your men can eat as much as you wish. Simply grab one of the plates, and cups and eat as much as you wish. After we've all eaten then perchance we can have a discussion?" Lord Eddard nodded.
While he had spoken the lull of the voices of men had returned to the strange great hall. Jon followed to where he had pointed where great plates also made of metal lay. He grabbed one at once, and marveled at its craftsmanship. It was perfectly round, and etched into its edges were words he could not read.
He moved about, grabbing meats, chicken, pork, beef, and other meats he had no name for. He placed strawberries and strange yellow fruit cut into small squares down as well. He grabbed the strange grain mixed with peas, tomatoes, onions, beans, and other stranger things. He grabbed a steel cup, it was hefty in his hand and on its side were the strange word much like that on the plate.
Then John moved to the chest that poured drinks into the coups and choose the one that seemed most popular. It was dark and black, and seemed to bubble within his cup. He took a sip of it, and a mix of sweet delight splashed on his tongue.
He drank it in a few gulps, filled his cup once more, and loom about to find a place to sit. Rob was next to the winterfell men who had accompanied them in this trip.
"Have you tried this drink?" He asked as he sat. He grabbed a knife from one of the bundles on the table, and a fork as well.
"Have you tried mine?" Robb asked, moving his own cup forward. It was clear, but much like the dark liquid Jon had chosen it too bubbled. He took sip, signed and passed his own to Rob. Rob tasted his and smiled.
"It is not water, or wine or beer. It's sweet and cold." Rob said of his own drink. Jon felt much the same though he felt he had no words to describe what he was tasting.
He took a bite of the steak, and juices finely seasoned paired into his mouth. He stared, and in a few minutes was consuming the rest of his plate with rabid attention. Fine spices, rich with salt and fat. He had meals before, good meals, cooked by Gage and the kitchen wenches of winterfell. But this them all to shame.
A man sat by him as he filled himself, and Jon waited a moment to chew and swallow his food before he turned to address the man.
"Colonel?" The man nodded and smiled at Jon. His deep blue dyes seemed to glitter in the strange light, and the grin upon his face spread as Jon had addressed him.
"You remember good. Colonel is title, rank."He said firmly. He pointed to himself. "Name is Jason. Welcome to the Grace of the Wind." He extended his massive hand, and Jon shook it. Jason, He thought, Jason a man of rank amongst these peoples.
"I am Jon Snow." He stated.
"Not stark?" He pointed to Lord Eddard at another table with the men and women who had greeted them at the entrance to this great beast of a ship. Jon felt his face redden as his mood darkened.
"No I am not lord Stark's true born son. Therefore my name is snow, much like many bastards of the north."
"That matters?" The Colonel asked somewhat confused. Jon smiled at the man's ignorance. Of course it mattered. What was a bastard to do? What could he do when he was the very sign of his lord father's shame.
"Yes it does." Jon replied, and the man patted him on the back. His tan face seemed saddened, his blue eyes seemed
"That is shit."The Colonel stared at him, his head shaking in derision. "I have no last name." He held up his hand, and Jon saw nothing. Then, fading from the depths of his skin much like a man in the depths of deep fog, an image slowly appeared. It was a series of bars of various lengths, short and long inked on his skin. "These marks let all men of my country know I am me. No other man has these marks, not other man can ever have these marks. Each man has his own." He smiled. "Some men have last names, I have no need for one, and many like me do not either." The Colonel stared Jon in the eyes. His blue pools seemingly glowing in their intensity. "My people, they do not care about birth. They care for actions, for deeds, those make a man. Those make him a great man." He held up his palm, and the boxes of ink were gone. "The Commander, the Captain, he a great man. He lead us because he's a great man."
He stared. "If you bring shame, what you do, when you man. What then? Stay at father's place? At castle?"
He had thought of this many a times over the past few years. And as the day of his manhood approached the notion of going to the night's watch with his Uncle Benjen seemed even more noble, even more an obvious choice for an unwanted bastard.
"I have thought of going to the Night's Watch." He admitted with some hesitation.
The man patted him on the back. "This thing, this Night's watch? It is a good thing?"
Jon Nodded, and the man smiled. "Then you go join. But if you not want join, if you make change mind, come here." He tapped himself, pounding his chest with his massive arms. "We need good men. You make good man. We pay good, we make you strong, fast."
Fast. That piqued his interest. He'd seen many wonders since meeting the men in the woods earlier this morning. Flameless lanterns, and horseless carriages. Strange fruits and meats, and stranger drinks. But the most amazing had been seeing those men outpace galloping horses.
"You...you can teach me how to do what you did?" The colonel nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes. We teach, we make you good soldier. Strong, fast."
Fast, he thought again. He was a bastard, and the greatest thing he had aspired to do with his life was join the Night's Watch. But these men offered something different. A choice he had never had before. That in and of itself made the offer worth thinking over.
-Eddard-
Eddard sat in a chair made of leather and soft as womans hands. It seemed to fit his form as if made for him and him alone. The man who lead these people, the Commander of this craft stared at him behind impassive golden eyes. A cup of hot bitter drink sat before both of them, on a table finely crafted or ornately carved glistening steel. The man drank from his often before his spoke.
"You should drink some lord Eddard, it is much like your tea, though far more bitter. It is sweetened, and I oft find the two tastes compliment each other well." The man's deep rumbling voice spoke. Eddard took a taste a the drink, it was hot, and far more bitter than tea, yet at the same time it was sweet. A strange people, eddard thought once more, with foods and strange customs.
"Lord Eddard, I apologize for the way my men approached you. I had sent them out to range the area, to see if anything of note could be found. We found a farmer and asked him of this land, and tried to learn what we could of your tongue from him. It was only by chance that we found you. My soldiers had been in the forest for a few days when you spotted them, had you not they would have returned and we would have waited a few more days and approached you officially on your return from your hunt."
Eddard found himself lacking a proper term for the man. The cut of his garments, the strangeness of the fabric and the wealth this ship seemed to show with such grandiose excess implied that the man was a lord. Someone of wealth, and worth, and power. There was more steel here than Eddard had ever seen, and the man had been willing to give away thousands of gold dragons in order to speak to him. The ornate pins he wore upon his chest and the flap of a shoulder would be worth hundreds of gold dragons by themselves.
"You're men stalked my own through the wolfswood for some time before they showed themselves." True men had no need to hide themselves behind tricks and deceptions, to sneak through the woods like women.
"They were ordered to observe, and only interact if they had been discovered lord Eddard. If it gave you offense, I apologize."
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. Then he nodded his acceptance. The apology seemed earnest.
"Lord Eddard, I shall be forthwith with you. I am not a man who is skilled with words, and I have discovered it is most useful to be forward with those I find myself dealing with. My people wish to stay on you lands lord Eddard." Demetrius stopped to take a sip of the dark bitter drink he had offered Eddard, then he continued to speak.
"We do not assume stay for free. We can pay for the privilege, we have some gold, and silver as well though no great worth of it. Diamonds we have aplenty if you wish for those as well. What we truly have lord Eddard is knowledge. Knowledge of steel craft, and metallurgy. Healing arts and map making. We have seeds fruits and grains that will flourish in this land, and other seeds that you grow now that will grow in half the time and have twice their normal yields."
Eddard listened with growing interest to the man's words. He had seen many things since coming aboard the steel craft, wondrous things that had seemed magical. But as he looked he came to understand it was not magic. It was craftsmanship. Ornate craftsmanship.
Wheels, within wheels, within wheels. As a boy, in the Vale of the Eerie when he had still been hosted by John Aryan, a man; A smith who built great intricate machines had come to show his newest invention. It was a geared map of westeros, with all the great houses and castles unfolding and folding again as a their house animals marched around them in an intricate arcing dance. It had stunned as a youth, how all the parts moved in arcs, wheels within wheels, within wheels.
This place, this craft that sailed the sky like a great ship sailed the seas was like that. Complicated, wheels within wheels, within an ever increasing number of wheels. They were not a race of wizards, but craftsman; beyond skill and knowledge of anything seen in the seven kingdoms, yes but still craftsman. Warrior craftsmen. The thought almost made him laugh.
The man was not a lord, but he was man of note,and Eddard would address him with courtesy.
"Ser, I was told that this craft sails the night skies like a great ship sails the seas. Yet I see no great, no sails. Can this craft not leave, why would you need to stay in the north at all, if the beauty of the night sky is right at your sky."
Demetrius laughed, a smile playing on his lips. "It would be hard to explain Lord Eddard. Our ship is cannot fly." As he spoke he reached into a drawer beneath his desk and pulled a crystal cube from it. It was beautiful, glass as clear as water and hued blue as the day sky. Both gold and silver lines were marred into its surface, as if the glass had been poured then more layer atop it. Demetrius raced a finger along its top edge and a blue light appeared before his vision.
Wheels within wheels Eddard thought. "Tis hard to explain in your tongue Lord Eddard. How is a man who has never seen steel before, never seen it crafted or forged, a man who only knows bronze to understand steel." Demetrius spoke. "Your people are like this Lord Eddard. How am to explain to you the working of things you don't even have knowledge of. Of the things you do not know you do not have knowledge of." The blue light flickered and a great rock appeared before his eyes, a craft shaped as if an arrow-head in a sea of indomitable black. It sat amongst a sea of rocks, mountains floating free in a black sea, behind them stars beamed with an impetious brightness. A ship meant to sail the night skies, floating aloft a sea of tumbling mountains.
His voice was calm, serious. Eddard studied the ship, it was the one he was on, crafted and carved a thing of beauty and grace despite its monstrous size. "The machines that allow our ship to move broke, and we had to land with haste." He pointed to the ship. "Our ship is not meant to leave a world lord Eddard. It is no simple thing, and once it has fallen it shall not rise ever again. It is too large lord Eddard. Much like a ship that must be built at sea, and cannot be returned once is has landed this ship cannot return to land. We are stuck here. I ask your permission to stay in this land for my people have seen it is beautiful."
Eddard stark's eyes focused on the man. "And if I say no? Ser, what then?"
"We have made plans for that. We shall cut our ship apart and use it to move further north, beyond this ice wall of yours. To where few men will lay to make claim to the lands. It will be hard, but my people have knowledge of hard time." Demetrius took another sip of his drink. "Yet, Lord Eddard, I ask that you consider giving us land, and allowing us to stay. We can offer gold, and knowledge. Knowledge beyond comprehension. My people spent of their time placing all their knowledge within our ships. All we ask is a piece of land we may as we see fit, and where our laws will be allowed so that we may live as we always have."
Eddard did not answer. Wheels within wheels he thought. To cut a great structure as this apart and move it. The notion seemed insane, and yet the man seemed ready, confident even in his ability to do so. A race of men who flew through the skies on the backs of great ships the size of mountains. Fine foods and flameless lanterns and skill of steelwork any master smith with be jealous off. He gripped the soft leather beneath him. A chair such as this would be worth a king's ransom.
"I shall allow you stay, Ser. Let us discuss terms."
-Demetrius-
They were beneath a steel sky. Its ashen grey light made the chilling winds of the north that raced its way across his tall frame seem even colder. He watched men tote crates towards the waiting transport rover; it sat squat on its big wheels and massive steel frame. A wide gated trailer splayed open, and men placed crates of gold, and goods on it edifice.
"You actually agreed to that contract?." The husky voice of Catarina whispered next to him. He gave a quick glance, then stopped and gave her another once over. She wore a dress spun from nano-filimer wave, dark grey and glistening in the sun. It hugged her form tightly, a distracting image that almost drew away from the scowl on her face.
"Of course." Demetrius face was calm. "We discussed this. We are not conquistadors of so many centuries ago on earth. We are not men coming to kill the primitive savages with our guns and steel armor."
"That is not what i meant." She snarled. "One hundred thousand gold dragons, or it equivalent." He voice was tight with anger, and her rage palpable. The wounds and words of old earth still held sway hundreds of years after mankind had left that blue-green world. "Five hundred pounds in gold bars." Her beautiful face was marred in rage. "We are not in the belts, or the rings of the gas worlds where gold and other metals are as common as grains of sand on a beach. Gold is worth something more than just printer material here. It was to the base of our economy when we landed on Vita-3-c. We cannot simply piss it away even if we have no need for it in such a way."
"I think the terms were fair." He felt the need to defend himself. "They are a feudal society, and bloodlines and a man's honor play much into deals. We got a good deal in my mind. A hundred lease of the land around us, ten miles to the north and south. Fifteen to the east and west outside of winterfell. Mining rights, with taxes from profits to be paid to lord eddard."
Catarina laughed. "Profits, not net?" Many people played multifaceted roles onboard the ship. As the medical director she also a deep understanding of economic and technological matters.
"Farming rights, and trade rights. One hundred thousand dragons is small in comparison to that. We gave gifts as well of course." He told her. The men were almost done, and soon, the sun would rise and they would make their march to Winterfell. "Solar powered led lights, and one of these transport rovers won't be coming home with us. A paved road from here to Winterfell and the Kings Road." His rushed through the second to last part. Thought he fire in her eyes told she hat not missed it.
"Do not," She sighed. "Try and bury the lead. Does Mari know you're giving away one of her precious transport rovers?"
He chose not to dignify her question with an answer. She continued. "So, she does not know." The tilt of her accent was growing was about to lapse into accented Martian Standard portuguese. "Ela vai te matar." Catarina's laugh was in parts mocking, and in parts sympathy.
"She won't kill me. She can't." His eyes strolled from her to the massive form of Tyliai. The pale giant moved in slow graceful slides, his cloudy milk eyes staring as a small grin played upon his face. He wore the dark blue bodysuit of the technical departments division head. Around his neck were the twin canisters of steel and carbon weave headphones.
"This'un gun'd weather. Cold 'n froze like home." His child like voice was filled with delight. "Minds me of the tunnels tween habitats. When un had to climb razor rocks to move place to place. Made a man strong" He looked down at his hands, where the scars of decades old cuts marred his fingers. "The grav though. I could do wit no grav. Even Un' I body made for it, not easy on the soul, so to say. Me un slow, heavy." The word left the gainst mouth in a slow heavy drawl.
"I like the gravity, it's about point eight earth standard. Lighter than ship board by point four gees." They turned to head Mari McLaren walking towards the lot of them. Her own attractive form visible in a long flowing gown, cut off just at the ankles, as grey and flowing as Catarina's own.
"Captain Vasquez," She acknowledged. "Good morning." Mari's bell like voice called to the rest of them. "Bheke told me she would be here a few minutes later than scheduled. She seems to believe we shouldn't go in without personal arms."
"Ahh," Demetrius said. "Well I could see how such could be useful."
"Yes," stated Mari. Her voice was curt, it was always curt when speaking to Captain Vasquez. "Not all of us are fortunate enough to be human weapons." She stopped for a moment, and stared at the giant of a man that was all of their friend. Her face darkened. "I'm sorry if i offended you Tyliai."
The giant laughed, and waved his hand to pass off her faux pas. "No offense meant, and so none was taken."
"I am not sure you're aware of this, but being a woman in a feudal society is not exactly pleasant." Mari continued on. The sounds of echoing footsteps stopped her from saying more
Bheke was walking onto the metal storage bay ramp. She wore carbon composite armor, body tight it fit almost like a second skin to her form. Black like much like captain Vasquez, it reflected no light. Plates of nano weave covered her abdomen, her arms, and her legs. On her shoulder, painted in gold was the Viper Viper Falcon that marked her as a Daughter of Sol.
She held a weapons case in her hands, and placed it on the ground. Her palm rested on the top, and the light beep of biometrics acceptance was heard, and then followed by the thick clunk of releasing tungsten latches. It opened up, and she pulled too light armament pistols from the case, and three pairs of magazines. They lay next to double latched holsters.
"These bein' for the two of you who can't protect yourselfs. Wallsten P twenty three standard. Three mags types. Ceramic composite rounds, tungsten composite, and em nasty old fashion boyo's from em twenty second century days." She picked up first a magazine with a light green ring, another with a light blue, and lastly a dark black one. "Bioorganic Explosive rounds. Any em' try and takein' your virtue' that'll be a last thing em'a doing."
Demetrius watched as she handed them off to both , and Catarina. The women were huddled together, having a conversation as Bheke tuned the pistols to the women's biometrics. He turned as he heard footsteps approach.
"Lord Eddard." He called out in greeting, extending his hand out of habit. The man took it and shook it evenly.
"Lord Vasquez, are your men ready?" Demetrius took a look about, and nodded. Bheke was done, and around both , and Catarina's waist was a gun holster. Next to each holster were three small squat magazine, each trimmed with a different color. He looked at Bheke and she nodded, an answer to his unasked question.
"Yes, Lord Eddard we are." Once more Demetrius looked at the men around him. He spoke loudly so even Lord Eddards men would hear what he was saying. "We head out now!" He shouted, his deep voice rolling across the vast cavern of the storage bays ramps.
-Authors note-
This chapter ends here. I hope i got at least some people interested in this. I'll expand on things that might confuse people. I'm not going to explain everything that i say in the story in the authors note. I believe in show the user, not telling them. That's what makes the A.S.O.I.A.F. series so good, G.R.R.M shows us rather than telling us. I'm a thousand years from being a good a writer as him, but I can at least try and aspire to what he can do.
-The weaponized human development act
-Sol Union authorities found that with the expansion of technological and biological augments it was difficult to control what people did to themselves in order to augment their looks, and and their bodies. What could be defined as human become harder and harder as people performed more radical changes to their bodies, genes, and minds. And so the weaponized human development act was formed. All augments not classified as weapon based were legalized, and strict definitions for augments classes were formed. Weapons based arguments were further classified and ranked. Research and development in military classes weapons based augments were banned by all those not licensed by the Sol Union. Those found knowingly carrying military classed weapons based augments would be classified a non human entity and summary terminated.