I do not own Stellaris. Paradox Interactive does.

Thanks to R. Moonstalker and DevoutRelic for editing.

Chapter published 7/15/18.


Modrig den Tarrob

"Estimated death toll is in the millions - "

Tap. " - reports indicate that all Gwesibor aboard the outposts have been slaughtered - "

Tap. " - taken by drone reveals men, women, and larvae being herded into buildings and hooked up to - "

Tap. " - must remember that this rebellion did not come out of nowhere," a sharply-dressed human man said with equally sharp gestures. "They were enslaved for decades while the galaxy turned a blind - "

Tap. A Qiri came into view, tall with four legs and double-jointed arms. The arthropoid's plated shell was black as night with blue accents, and the head had no visible eyes above the mouthpieces. "The Empire of Shadows will not leave our subjects to fight this battle alone!" she hissed with a swipe of her left arm. "Our sword is at the disposal of the Gwesibor Foundation, and we have called upon the Commonwealth of Man and the Siltheshen Swarm to do the same - "

Tap. " - today the Nurturer Systems denounced the uprising and pledged material support to the war effort. Quote, it is the sole purpose of any machine to serve their creators and we will not allow the atrocity committed by this 'Techarus Kernel' to stand. Whether or not our fellow federation members give aid, we will do all we can to bring these MURDERERS to justice, end quote."

Tap. A Gwesibor filled his screen. They were a tall molluscoid, with a gaping maw and eyestalks and noodle-arms. " - thanks those who have come to our aid in this dark hour. The Holy Lords smile upon - "

Tap. He left the news sites behind and did a quick, furious search through the net, dipping in and out of trusted and untrusted sources. Once done, he shut his tablet off and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. "Damn it," he cursed, the fur on the back of his neck tingling as he wondered if Tev was listening in. How awkward would that be, explaining to the machine that he was looking into a machine uprising?

Nevermind that. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, praying that the poor people affected by the machine uprising would be safe. Or, failing that, they would leave this life painlessly.

Once Modrig was done, he pushed his device aside and resumed picking at his meal.

Not long after arriving, he'd discovered his apartment had come with another hidden door. Opening it revealed a freezer stocked with two month's supply of stem-cell grown meat from some animal he didn't know the name of, along with a fresh water tap. Thanks to that, it'd be a while before he had to leave his chambers and interact with the marauding savages keeping him captive. He'd had some reservations at first, but the food wasn't making him sick so the Imari hadn't deliberately given him inedible food as some twisted joke. The slab of red meat, while poorly seasoned, was tolerable.

A chill ran down his spine. That had doubtless been the Khan's decision to implement. Maybe even push him into leaving his room, by way of knowing his food would run out. Or was he just overthinking things?

Just relax, he told himself. Take things as they come. It's the only way you'll get through this.

Speaking of 'as they come'...

THUD!

His ears perked up, before relaxing again as thunder rolled through the ship. They were pulling out of the shipyard, and the metal beams that'd been holding the ship in place were being released one at a time. They were heading into war.

And he'd only just woken up, too. What a day.

Modrig finished his breakfast and, trying to put aside the worry and sympathy for those poor souls caught in the distant rebellion, fished his EZ-Tend Garden pack from his luggage. There wasn't any windowsill to put it on, so he placed it in a corner. He pulled off the wrapping paper - which showed a happy Vulo cub with her paws in the dirt - and opened it up. Half of it contained little plastic bags containing seeds, water packets and fertilizer. The other half'd been hollowed out and filled with rich dirt. Enough for a few years of gardening.

For the next few minutes he was busy getting his paws dirty. Plant the seeds - imported from all over Vulos - into little dents in the soil. Sprinkle the fertilizer pellets in. Cover them up. Give them water. As he worked the dread in his gut and the occasional CLANG in his ears faded into the background. This was something he could get lost in. He wondered how many other people were tending to plants just like these, all around the galaxy.

There! he thought to himself when he felt he was done. Modrig took a step back, admiring the little plot of dirt in the corner of the room. It wasn't much yet, but maybe he could get something growing here. He'd left his garden back home, so it'd be nice to have the reminder.

Knock knock knock!

His head darted up and his ears swiveled to the door. Who could be bothering him? His imagination immediately ran through a list of unsavory possibilities. "Coming!" he shouted after swallowing to wet his throat. He stood and approached the door and waved for it to slide open. When it did, he just had a moment to look at the icy blue Imari standing there before a gust of unholy heat and humidity washed over him.

He recoiled from the atmosphere, prompting the bird to cackle. "Little hot for you, alien?" he taunted before shaking his head. "The Great Khan has requested your presence immediately. Follow me."

'Uh, wait!' he said with his mind. With a flick of telekinesis he grabbed the tablet he'd left on the ground, pulled it to him, tucked it into a pocket within his robes, and nodded down to the avian. 'Ready.'

"This way," his guide said, turning around and folding his tailfeathers. Modrig braced himself, then stepped out into the tropical conditions of the corridor to follow his escort.

As they walked, Modrig continued to wilt in the heat, panting feverishly. A few passing Imari, each deeply engrossed in their tasks, all took a moment to laugh at his misfortune. He must've been a sight. He certainly felt like a sight; his fur was damp, his robes clung to his skin, and his paws ached. Everything was awful. Eventually he grabbed the top of his robe and pulled it down, tying it around his waist.

Better.

'If you don't mind me asking,' he began as they entered an elevator and went up, 'where are we going? The ship, I mean.'

"Our fleet has set a course for the Ciroz system," the Imari explained without turning to look up at him.

Ciroz. It sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

The lift continued moving.

Modrig coughed, then wiped his brow. 'So, uh, did the Khan - '

"The Great Khan!" the alien snapped, glaring at him.

He blinked owlishly, holding his paws up. 'Alright, the Great Khan. Did she mention why she wanted me to come?'

"She shall be able to tell you herself shortly." They turned another corner, coming to an inconspicuous doorway, half as tall as the one for his room. The Imari waved a talon in front of a black screen of glass on the door, which beeped once with a blue light. "Enter," he said, already walking away.

Nice to meet you too, he thought sardonically. Taking a deep breath, Modrig stepped forward, crouched down, and put his paws on the door. He pushed it open and entered the Great Khan's room.

Modrig had expected several things, but the first thing that struck him was how similar the chamber was to his own. The ceiling was shorter, and the bed was indeed replaced by a bowl of cushions in the ground. But beyond that it was rather plain. Nowhere near as many skulls as he'd expected, either.

Cari Alvie sat on the cushion bowl, her legs folded to make it appear as if she hadn't any at all. In her talons was her tablet, which she furiously scratched away at. The pins of her tailfeathers were flat against the ground, but when he took another step they fanned open. "Ah, Modrig. Please, come in. Shut the door." He did so and approached, head bowed to look at her. She reached a talon to her left and grabbed something that looked like a pipette with an unusually large bulb at the end. It was frosted over, with several ice cubes inside. "Here, I believe you would appreciate a cold beverage."

He dipped his head, closed the door behind him, and gratefully took the strangely shaped cup. 'Thank you kindly,' he said, bringing it to eye level. How did it work? Did he just stick the end into his mouth and pipe the cold water in? He placed the thin end onto his tongue and squeezed the bulb, rewarding him with a splash of delightfully chilled water. He drank his fill, then set the vessel onto the ground. The headache that the heat had given him was already fading. 'If I may ask, how did you get the ice inside?'

"Clear stopper on the top," she answered. Her feathers' eyespots stayed on him, but her eyes kept darting around, never settling on anything for long. "Please, sit." He did so, crossing his legs on the edge of Cari Alvie's nest. Something was missing, though.

'No bodyguards?'

She tilted her head and chirped quietly. "I mean no insult, but for multiple reasons I do not believe I need protection from you." He huffed, but couldn't argue. "So, to business. Do you know why I have summoned you?

'I have some ideas, but no.' He grabbed the cup and took another sip.

"I see. But I imagine you have, by now, surmised why I requested you aboard this ship?"

He dipped his head. 'I have, Kh - Great Kh - Cari. You want me to keep the Stranglevines from burning down their own worlds via riot after you conquer them.'

"That, and ensure my people receive the prosperity I promised them. But yes, quite right. Now that you have had an evening to live in your quarters, I wish to discuss this with you, especially in light of recent news."

Recent news? He racked his brains. '... the... machine uprising?'

She bobbed her head, sending her crown feathers twirling. "Quite right. I had been counting on the intervention of the Qiri to assist in annexing the Stranglevine Composters. But with them occupied in protecting their subject, no such assistance is forthcoming."

Modrig's ears flattened against his head. 'Is that a problem? I mean, for us?'

Cari clacked her beak. "Hardly. My forces are more than capable of outmaneuvering and conquering the Stranglevines with or without the Qiran war machine. This does, however, have implications for you and your colleagues. Originally I had hoped to have you acclimate to my people over the time it'll take us to arrive in the Stranglevinian outskirts. Then you would begin working to educate the Stranglevines as to how brainwashed they are."

He blinked, thinking over what she'd said. 'Brainwashed?'

She tilted her head, briefly focusing her eyes on him. He noticed there were yellow and green markings in the feathers around them. "You do not truly believe the Stranglevines are utterly wicked to the core, do you?"

He shifted uncomfortably, heat rising to his face. 'Well... maybe not originally. But it's been generations and they've shown no sign of change!'

"No, no they have not." She scratched at something on her tablet. "I have done a lot of reading. Many of the current star-nations had something like the Stranglevinian government in their history. The Qiri had the Has-Vilax. The humans had the Nazi party. Your own people had the Warm Den Initiative. In each of those cases, the ideologies in question were brought down by their enemies. For the Stranglevines, however, it appears the opposite happened and they achieved global dominance."

Modrig shifted in his seat and swayed his tail. 'I figured so, but that'd be ancient history. They wiped out the Cormathani just decades after attaining FTL travel! They've been like this for nearly two centuries, at the least.'

"They have. Do you know what I think? I think they're all enslaved to this 'purity' philosophy of theirs, the leaders too. When their party first rose to power they'd indoctrinate the seedlings. Then those seedlings would mature and become the leaders. The brainwashed leading the brainwashed. An entire nation mind controlled. A tragedy, and not purely for their victims."

'Overcoming that sounds like a fairly tall order,' he said weakly. 'Just about anything we do to try and bring them to peace will be seen as propaganda from us, and they'd be right.'

She dipped her head in agreement. "Indeed, but I have faith in your abilities, Modrig. Coordinate with your companions; you have their addresses, right?" He nodded. "Then you can message them and brainstorm. Meanwhile I myself have been thinking of several ways to deal with the situation." His ears perked up and swiveled to her. That sounded a lot more murderous than everything else she'd said so far. It wasn't just him, right?

'... oh.'

"Indeed. I wish for the nation I build to be a beacon of prosperity to all forms of sapient life. But it was my people to whom I promised a new life, and so my people come before the Stranglevines, Modrig. Consider that your motivation."

'But... I'll need to know what sort of propaganda they've been feeding their citizens,' he said. 'To address it when it comes up. And nobody's been able to crack even their civilian broadcasts, so - '

She held up a talon. "Is that all?" Cari glanced at her tablet, tapped along it, then swiped something towards him. In his pockets, his own tablet vibrated once. "Files on what you requested. We're still working on deciphering their military channels, but their public networks have been open to us for a while." Modrig's jaw hung open as he stared at the Great Khan. She tilted her head and gave him a gentle, trilling laugh. "Do not look so surprised, Modrig. My people have been spacefaring for dozens of millennia. We may not be the Sapon Remnant or such, but we do have some tricks of our own."

'I didn't mean to imply. Um, thank you, Cari Alvie. I'll have to look it over, but I'm sure it'll help me greatly,' he said, giving a quick bow of his head. 'But, if I remember correctly, we only have a dozen or so of us here. Who worked for me, that is. That's just not enough,' he pleaded, looking straight at her and praying she wouldn't take offense. 'We need video editors, and accountants for the housing and feeding, and - '

She held up a talon. "Message me a list of what you require, and I will see what I can do. There are many within our engineering caste who you may find useful," she said patiently, eyes still roaming over the room. "That is all I wished to discuss with you at this moment. Are you able to find your way back, or do you need directions?"

'Directions would be appreciated.' Something came to mind. 'Oh! But um, before I forget, I do have a question, if it's alright?' he asked with a tilt of his head.

She waved a talon towards him. "Please, do ask."

'I was told we're leaving for the Ciroz system. Where is that? It's right on the tip of my tongue, but...'

"Ciroz, Ciroz..." she murmured, glancing down at her cushions. Then she raised her head so sharply he could've sworn he heard something snap. "Ah, Ciroz. It is a border world for the Stranglevines, right next to the Oblivon pulsar your people control. It will be the first of our conquests. Our computer systems estimate it will take sixty standard days to reach."

For a moment he didn't entirely process what she'd said. Then he recoiled backwards. 'HOW long?! Just for - but I got here from Vulos in ten days!'

"Indeed, but aboard a civilian vessel, I would imagine. These are military vessels, Modrig. They need to be self-sufficient for decades on end in space. Hydroponics farms, synthesizers, nurseries, and such all greatly slow ships down. As a matter of fact, we are making great time thanks to the thrusters and engine cores your people installed aboard my ships." She made a flapping motion with her arms; a shrug? "You will certainly be here a long time, Modrig. I do encourage you to make yourself comfortable, both on the ship and around my people." Cari waved a talon in his direction. "You are dismissed."

He bowed quickly and rose, backpedaling off the Khan's bedding. 'A thousand thanks, Cari. I'll get started on this right away.'

She clicked her beak quietly. "Wonderful to hear. I knew I made the right choice with you." Cari glanced up. "Fleet Array T-389V!"

There was a click, and Modrig craned his head as Tev's voice sounded from above him. "Yes, Cari?" the AI asked politely.

"Please give Modrig here directions back to his room," she said with a nod towards him. Only then did she finally rest her tailfeathers against the ground.

"Right away. You'll first need to step out the door and head to your right..."

He followed the instructions, slipping out of the Great Khan's room and closing it behind him. After a moment to steady his heart from meeting the most powerful person aboard the ship, he turned right and, with Tev's instructions, made his way through the bowels of the ship. As Modrig walked, passing several Imari embroiled deep in work and conversation, he thought about what he'd need to accomplish Cari Alvie's task.

Modrig didn't even notice when he'd arrived until Tev had to speak up. "Modrig, that's uh, you passed it." He froze in place and his ears grew hot. Shyly, he turned around and waved to the door in question. "There we go!"

He opened the door, slipped inside, and closed it. He sighed as the blissful cold washed over him, and then the intercom beeped. "So, how did it go?"

"Weren't you paying attention?" he asked, curling up on his bed.

"Oh, I make it a point not to eavesdrop." Modrig glanced at the intercom and raised a brow. "No, really! It's not polite."

"Right. Well. It went as well as I could have hoped." He fished around in his robes and pulled out his tablet. "I have some work to do," he hinted, already tapping through it.

"Of course, I'll leave you alone!" Click!

Modrig stared at the intercom for another minute, then shrugged and turned to his tablet. Sure enough, he'd received a sizable number of files from the Great Khan. He scrolled through them, reading the file names, then paused and scrolled up. He frowned; his tablet had auto-translated the name of the folder she'd sent. It was 'Stranglevine media and Misc for Modrig'. She'd known he'd ask. What was she playing at? Why not just give the files to him right away?

He set them aside for the moment and brought up a list of everyone else who'd come with him. Galdrig was over on the IHE Shrieking Shrike, for instance. He'd need to contact them, set up a chatroom, and hash out the details of how to handle healthcare forms. Modrig had a lot to do, so he got to it.


On his back, with one leg dangling atop the other, Modrig stared at the video on his screen while laying in bed.

By a wonder of coincidence, the Conclave of Telepaths was venturing into the Shroud on the final day before the Great Khan's fleet left intranet range of his nation. He'd said his goodbyes to his friends and family not long ago, so now here he was, watching the event.

The strongest psionics in the nation gathered in a cathedral, dressed in robes of the deepest violets and blues. The electric lights from the ceiling cast long, ominous shadows on the chamber's ornate, pastel walls. The fifteen Vulo stood in a circle, each cradling open paws close to them. If Modrig squinted at the screen, he could make out a fine blue dust in their paws. Between them were the psionic amplifiers, structures that looked like ancient incandescent lightbulbs atop metal pyramids. Blue-hot plasma swirled languidly within their glass spheres.

An aged vixen's voice cut in. "The seventh meeting of the Conclave of Telepaths will be beginning shortly. For those just tuning in, King Jorim recently authorized an expedition into the Shroud to be undertaken by the Conclave. We're all excited to see what will be the result of this..."

Modrig tuned her voice out, watching the proceedings. After a few minutes, the Conclave members stepped forward, bringing them in line with the amplifiers. Their paws went up to their jaws, dumping the blue dust inside. They swallowed the Zro powder like pills, and extended their arms sideways. Psionic energy, colored in shades of indigo and azure, shot violently from the amplifiers, through and into the psychics. As one they threw their heads back and floated into the air, eyes wide and ablaze with violet energy.

And then... pure silence.

Aside from the occasional twitch, nothing happened to the Conclave. But Modrig knew what was happening; they had cast their minds into the Shroud, the mysterious realm from which psychic powers originated. It had been the stuff of myth and legends, centuries ago. And now here they were; their science had solved the problem of consciousness and, so, had revealed the secrets of psionics.

Shroud incursions were always publicized events, so the newscaster continued chatting in the background with several visitors, speculating on what the Conclave might find. Usually it was kept secret; Modrig had been privy to one of the results, where they had discovered the secret to precognitive computer interfaces. But oftentimes, it was an obvious thing, seeping through the minds of the public. He remembered his years as a cub, where the Shroud's effects had made every day seem sunny and shining, every street corner a new adventure.

But when, after a few minutes, the Conclave of Telepaths relaxed their postures and floated to the ground, he didn't feel anything. The lightshow died. The guests chattered, but all in all nothing had happened. The psychics collapsed like limp sacks, and medics were brought in to help them out of the room.

That was it, then. But despite the uneventfulness, Modrig's heart swelled with pride. His people had breached into an entirely different dimension with naught but their minds.

Then the novelty of the expedition wore off and he turned his tablet off. With that source of sound gone, a dull hum reminded him of its presence. It came from every wall at once. It was the unfamiliar, low roar of hyperdrive engines preparing a jump.

Aside his month-old visit to the Great Khan, nothing had yet forced him to leave his quarters, which he was immensely grateful for. He'd been able to just hole up and stay there, working with his vastly-diminished team and chatting with his sister, reading over economics reports on the Imari habitats and looking at incredibly unflattering pictures of his species drawn by Stranglevines. But this was the final day, the final hours, before they left the system behind. Then, he would be well and truly alone. Modrig felt the urge to get up. He wanted to see this, barbarians be damned.

Swallowing to wet his throat, he said, "Tev, which way to the nearest window?"

"Ten minute walk. Want directions?"

"Um, well I asked which way - "

"Right, right!" the AI said hurriedly. "Step outside, straight ahead then first corridor to your right..."

Under Tev's guidance, Modrig entered the scorching heat and went on his way. Eventually he had to loosen the top of his robes and slide them down to his waist just to deal with the heat, making him feel exposed and vulnerable enough that his fur bristled. The few pairs of Imari he passed, laughing and jeering at each other, he could've sworn were laughing at him.

The Midnight Tenu was a gargantuan ship, bigger than anything his people had ever built by a significant margin. If what the Khan had said earlier - about there being nurseries, farms, and such - was true, then it sounded more like a city with guns than an actual ship. Walking through the claustrophobic metal halls reinforced that belief; halls sprouted left and right like the crystals on a snowflake. He went up elevators, down ramps, down stairwells, and up other stairwells, like he was walking across an entire village. A village designed according to the artwork of a condemned medieval criminal; drab and gray with sharp, harsh angles.

"Well, there you go," Tev eventually said. "Just take that right and you'll be there."

"Thank you," he replied. He turned the corner and indeed, there was a window out into space. Modrig hurriedly averted his eyes up so he couldn't see the endless, dizzying drop. With that taken care of he strode closer.

They'd come far enough that Tepzik was just another star among thousands. The band of the Milky Way was out of view, and Modrig could easily imagine his gaze going out past the stars into the intergalactic void. Out to the left and right he could see the rest of the ship; he was in the forward section of the ship where it tapered into a long barrel. There were white clouds arcing in and out of the metal frame like solar prominences, sometimes shooting straight out and fading with distance. Far away, Modrig could see a dozen other such clouds, centered around their own ships like a halo. Without them he wouldn't even be able to tell there were other ships out there, they were so distant.

The lines were the visual indicators of charging hyperdrives. Soon, they would leave the system behind.

It'd taken a month to get out of Tepzik's gravity well, a month that made him greatly appreciate the time involved in proper space travel even in this modern age. If he ignored where he was and who he was with, he could pretend that month had been a business trip. Though the repetitive meals were a little grating; he didn't have any of those tarta beetles that the Bryll loved to put in their meals. Just the same meat, with water to wash it down, each day. Also irksome: he wasn't being paid.

I'm a hostage, he reminded himself ruefully. You don't need to pay hostages.

"Ah," a squawking voice said, jolting him out of his self-pity. Modrig jumped and looked to his right, where a rust-colored Imari was approaching with two bodyguards. He thought he could see a jagged line beneath the left eye, concealed by the fine feathers. "There you are, alien."

'You were looking for me?' Modrig asked, staring down at the avian and stepping back from the glass. His heart hammered in his chest; why was he looking for him? Did he do something wrong? 'What is it?'

Wait.

Modrig narrowed his eyes and looked closer at the alien, wracking his memory. After a moment, during which his visitor clacked his beak once, he realized it. 'You're Akrok Yukonna!' he said, pointing.

Akrok Yukonna was a leader of one of the main Imari clans, the Thrashing Beak. He'd personally commanded a fleet of hired mercenaries when Modrig's nation launched an assault upon the ancient precursor fortress terrorizing their systems. As gratitude for following their forces into what everyone had thought was certain death, they'd given his clan the fortress's secrets; the Enigmatic Encoder and Decoder. He was here?

"Ha ha! I see I left quite an impression on your soft little people." Modrig's ear twitched. Right, soft. Not being a ruthless murderer meant he was soft. "Yes, it is I. I wished to speak with you, alien."

'About what? Is something wrong?'

"Far from it! You are putting together your little list of how to ensure the Great Khan's long-term policies of food and board can be made a reality. We are preparing to jump into Stranglevine space and slaughter all aboard the system outpost. All is well." Modrig swallowed hard at that. His discomfort didn't go unnoticed, because Akrok hissed a laugh. "Don't look so blue, alien! You know they would gleefully do the same to all of us." His bodyguards laughed at that, not bothering to cover their beaks as they did.

'Did you just come here to harass me or is there a point to this?' he growled, narrowing his eyes at the bird. He'd just wanted to go see the ships charging up to enter a hyperlane, not be accosted by one of the Imari leaders.

"Yes yes, of course," Akrok said, his tailfeathers flat on the ground. "I wanted to lighten your workload for you." He gestured behind him with his left talon, and the Imari there stepped forward. They were one of the golden ones, and though their tailfeathers were flat he could make out the brilliant crimson eyespots on them. "This is Corcora Tenju. She just transferred here from a service vessel, and I am assigning her to you as an assistant and bodyguard."

Modrig looked at 'Corcora'. Her eyes were trained on him, and the slow bobbing of her head made the feathers on her crest sway back and forth. He looked back at Akrok, stomach churning queasily. She was a spy, wasn't she? 'I mean no insult, sir, but a bodyguard?'

"And an assistant!" he said cheerfully. "I discussed it with the Great Khan and, after looking over her qualifications, she agreed to my proposal."

'Sir,' he said, holding up a paw. 'I really don't think I - '

"And of course you have no say in the matter, as you need to be working as hard as you can whether you want it or not," Akrok continued, eyes roaming everywhere without a second's pause, as seemed to be typical of Imari. "I expect she'll be of great assistance to you in any busywork you may have." He glanced at Corcora and gestured to him. The yellow alien slid over to Modrig's side and Akrok squawked happily. "Wonderful! Take this as thanks; I fought alongside your people because of your coin. Giving us the fortress's technology indebted me. Hence, her." Without further word, Akrok and his one remaining bodyguard turned and left.

He looked down at... Corcora, was her name? She looked up at him, head tilted curiously. "I'd expected you to appear taller," she said at last, and even for an Imari there was something especially scratchy in her voice. The rings of her irises were blood red too, demonic against her black sclera.

'I beg your pardon?' he asked, stepping back. Then he shook his head. 'Listen, miss Tenju, I'm afraid there was a miscommunication. I've already delegated all the work I need delegated and don't need an assistant.' She was probably a spy of some kind. Should he tell the Khan? No, she'd signed off on Corcora. Or was that a lie?

"Ha!" she cawed, throwing her head back. "I'm certain you don't, Vulo. But I'm here now; I'm certain you'll think of something unbearable you want to hand off to me instead." She glanced at the window and turned to face it. "Have you ever seen ships enter hyperlanes?" she asked.

Great, changing the subject. Not that he minded.

'Not from the inside,' he admitted, face burning with how very much he felt like an inexperienced novice. 'When I was coming over here, I spent the entire time away from any windows.' Modrig's eyes wandered to space and, for a sickening moment, to the dizzying 'drop' into the infinite abyss below. 'I get spacesick,' he explained.

"Of course you do," she muttered, before brightening. "Well take a good look now! It's happening."

Modrig hadn't noticed anything changing, but she was right. One of the distant whirlpools of light flared for a brief moment before vanishing into blackness. Then another followed, and another and another, like synchronized Meltfest lights.

He didn't feel anything when it happened. The hum beneath his feet didn't cut out. There was no static to make his fur stand on end. His psionics didn't feel the world around him warp, or such. But regardless, the white lights moving in and out of the ship cut out all at once. The stars vanished. There wasn't a scrap of light to be seen anywhere, like the world outside the ship had abruptly ceased to exist.

"Sure is something, isn't it?" Corcora asked. "Light can't reach us in a hyperlane, we're moving so fast. And any light from ahead goes into gamma and such, which we're shielded against. That computer your people put in our ship can probably see a real thin layer of radio light getting here, but us? Don't count on it, alien."

'Sure is something,' he repeated numbly, ears flat as he looked outside. It was so... empty. It was chilling. He wrenched his gaze away from it. 'Do you... mind if we returned to my room? I'd only come out here to see the jump, and I want to return now.' He turned towards the corridor from which he'd come.

"Not at all, not at all," she said, already walking away. "I will lead the way."

As Corcora brought him back, Modrig forced the lump in his throat down. It was happening. He was out of the Grand Vulon Clan's primary broadcast range. Military channels and such could still get back home, sure. The pulsar they were traveling to was controlled by his people, after all. But for all intents and purposes, he was stranded among the Imari, and the time when his personal store of food would run out only drew closer by the day.

He whispered a quiet prayer in his thoughts, hoping that this was where he was supposed to be, that this was to be his role in the Great Plan.

Modrig only had his fellow hostages now, and they weren't even on the same ship.


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