Dark Hunter's resolution.
Chapter 54: Paths for the future, recovery's first steps.
May 30th 2902
Ba'hras system, Dev'ral, Peragoth colony.
4 days since the most anticipated war trial, namely the last covering the war heroes/villains [however one saw them], Alex and Kal'sik.
The news feeds and online posts across galactic threads and sites was abuzz with the war trial results. Some were angry at the ease that some convicted people got off, while others, a slightly greater majority, understood the reasoning. Mental instability, and actual origin and created purpose, played a part.
But the sentencing of two individuals in particular was surprising:
Grand Admiral Kal'sik sentenced to 15 years of indentured service, directly serving newly appointed Queen Sha'krii Herensk.
Former KI clone Alex Damien sentenced to 15 years of indentured service, directly serving newly appointed Queen Sha'krii He'rensk. Extended sentence for creation of illegal AIs, acting without orders and theft of large amount of Alliance military vessels.
Sentence to be changed to innocent if surgery on Alex Damien is not successful.
"Wasn't he due for surgery yesterday?" At'ren asked, having read the data pad that Se'rie had placed on the table.
They were over at his apartment, a small block of flats near the centre of town. She had arrived for a visit, but At'ren had noticed her anxiety. After asking, he was partially relieved to hear it wasn't him, but someone she knew before.
Of course it had to be her old human flame though.
"They said so, but no details on what exactly the surgery is for." Se'rie was nervous as she sat across from him. It was now, with little humour in his eyes, that At'ren asked the fated question:
"Do you still like him?"
Se'rie didn't move for a while, before she breathed out: "We-some things got between us. He was becoming obsessed, paranoid with fear. If he hadn't been captured over New Cybertron by Kal'sik, I think we would have drifted apart."
"Do, you, still, like him?" At'ren asked. She hadn't answered the question.
"...I care enough to not want him dead. No more than that. He'd changed too much too quickly, and I don't know what he's like now." She scratched her wing absentmindedly: "And I'm not sure I want to know what he's like now."
"You don't like him then? No feelings for a dangerous potential mate?"
"At'ren, one of the biggest reasons you are a better friend, let alone potential mate, is because of the normality you bring. Being in the NKI, I was witness to orbital strikes at ground level, I saw people willing to kill very quickly, and what war can do to people's bodies and minds. Alex would have never been suitable during peacetime, I don't think he could handle it now."
"Se'rie. I'm, I didn't mean to pry too much. You just seem worried." At'ren replied.
"I just don't want him to be executed after all that happened to him." Se'rie admitted.
"What about Kal'sik? If he lives they'll probably be close by each other, if they both serve the Kro'nogri queen directly." At'ren realized the implications of both 15 year sentences for the two.
"Kal'sik was ruthless, loyal to a fanatical degree. I'm not sure about him now, he's been quick to silence voices opposing Sha'krii, once evidence was shown she was the true queen. I think he'll be kept under control by Sha'krii." Se'rie replied, remembering cheerfully the reserved, but calculating and fair leader that Sha'krii turned out to be.
Now though, she had a streak of coldness to her. Losing her leg and her imprisonment hadn't been kind.
At'ren then was puzzled by something else: "What do you think is meant by 'direct indentured service to the queen'? Slavery? Are they going to be serving her meals, cleaning the palace?"
Stifling a laugh, Se'rie thought for a moment: "No, the skill set they have, I think there'll be a good reason for Sha'krii to keep them close to her."
"Bodyguards?" At'ren threw out a possibility.
"Maybe, who knows." Se'rie admitted. She had no idea what was in store for Alex.
"One thing that I'm worried about Alex for though, is what he's gone into surgery for? They might make 'changes' to him."
Se'rie's fears were well established, given the history Alex had with medical procedures in the past.
Same day
Ki'ristalis, CIB headquarters building, early afternoon.
"Ms Lovisk. The newest decoded archive records from Zoran's files."
Krith Lovisk looked up from her data pad, as she stood by a holographic display table. The table showed projections of different news reports and Alliance released records, those that correlated with either Zoran/Oro'naze's uncovering, or the war's ending crime trials and rebuilding efforts in general.
She took the data pad from her female Vulcan co-worker, as she had been put in joint charge, alongside Jarothes Hu'treck, in decoding the details of Zoran's dealings since his and the other 2 scouts kept-secret incursion into Alliance space 16 years ago.
"Anything of note?"
"Nothing madam. Just more details on financial deals that covertly traded stocks with Alliance arms manufacturing firms up until the war's beginning."
"File it away with the other findings. Anything not predicted, bring it to my attention."
"Yes madam." The female Vulcan briskly walked off, while Krith turned back to the data pad in hand.
Vulcans. Cold, offhanded, but they're damn good workers. Its a surprise they don't work non stop like the janitor drones.
Soon after she turned to examine more news reports, her communicator buzzed. Reaching for it, she saw a waiting call from Jarothes.
Eagerly, she put him on the line, making sure to keep her voice low enough so bystanders couldn't hear too much.
"Hey Jar."
"Hey Krith, just wanted to call and ask if you got anything new on Zoran at your end."
"Nothing much new. Just lots of evidence of things we're already aware of him doing."
"Well, at least you're finding stuff. We've been turning over my uncle's and Zoran's place, but hardly anything turned up at my uncle's. Teams say they're having better luck in Zoran's place. Apparently he had it on DNA biometric locked datapads, so they just needed a sample."
"I guess he wasn't objecting to them taking his skin then? So is that all?"
"Well, one more thing, are we still on for dinner tonight?"
"Mm, not sure actually. I think I should stay on late tonight, try and get the last of these batch of stock trade files processed. OH! And I guess if I do that, then I have no paperwork that I have to do on the week's leave days." Krith's suggestion came to her mind as she spoke, realizing how much better a free weekend was than a free evening and some work on the weekend.
"Good idea. I'll be sure to have my weekend free-hold on...I'll have to go now, something came up with my uncle's stuff, possible trade stock link. See you tonight, sans dinner plans then."
The click of the disconnecting call sounded, but Krith remembered how he seemed too uncertain and meek when she first met him. They hadn't paid much heed to each other until they and Bal'toro had started finding the evidence for the UIP scouts 16 years ago.
But now, she had a trusted coworker and potential life partner, if their status was anything to go by. Besides, she had a thing for men smaller than her, and she never liked kids much either.
June 1st 2902
New Cybertron, New Tyber Pax
Shockwave methodically walked past mechs and a few femmes crowding in this sacred place.
He made his way around the large, kilometre diameter circular walkway, weaving through the usual crowds of visitors. Trailing behind him were Blackout, and the much smaller Soundwave. And behind them, a sealed cybertronian pod.
Reaching their destination, Shockwave engaged the command, and the flooring in a more clear area opened up to reveal a descending ramp. Silently, the 3 Decepticons led their deceased charge down the ramp, whilst the doors shut behind them.
Walking for minutes, the 3 of them rounded the corner to come before a handful of former Autobots. They stood between them and the drop off.
Beyond, within the circumference of the grand walkway, was the Well of the Allspark. Shining blue with the small lake of energon beneath the great cube, this post was one of a few designated for funeral burials, disposing of a body into the great energon pool, to be broken down into its cybermatter and energon components.
The spark, having transmitted its 'soul' across Quantum entanglement streams to the Well, would be broken down, ready for new sparks to be made. Like a great network, the Allspark reached out across all Cybertronians, influencing their sparks during development, whether from a carrier femme or mech, or from a directly created spark from the energon lakes.
Walking forwards, Shockwave came to stand before the largest of the former Autobots, and a member of the current leadership council. The red and blue mech was one of the most famous figures in UIP history, with good reason.
"Shockwave. You brought her body?" Optimus asked.
"Yes. Her spark and frame were greatly damaged by the battle, and the human, Dominic Cortez, so on a cosmetic level, she is not entirely intact." Shockwave explained.
"I still don't understand why she's being placed here." Blackout rumbled.
"While Tyrania's intentions and deeds may have been deceitful and destructive, her reasons for doing them were evidently due to her being unable to escape out society's views of her grandfather. Our society's grudge towards Decepticons past misdeeds, and their leader, caused her to act like she did. We can only hope to remedy our race's creation of this misguided spark by laying it to proper rest." Optimus's words were true, as they often were.
With no one else voicing complaints, one of Optimus's 3 companions walked forwards, the slightly small, Soundwave sized mech, Drift. A triple changer, like Shockwave, and during the great war's later years, a former Decepticon turned Autobot.
"It may not be a high profile funeral, but it is for the best. In case some still wield overtly negative opinions enough to lash out."
Passing by Optimus Prime, Rodimus Prime and Elita-One, Drift gently pushed the coffin pod over the edge, sending it tumbling into the Energon lake 100 metres below.
"Rest in peace Tyrania Gamma. Your lineage's history cannot torment you anymore." Optimus spoke softly. Hanging his head slightly, he couldn't help but feel a bit of hate for Megatron, even after so many years. Even now, his legacy ruined some lives and drove them to commit vile acts.
Approaching the edge of the Well, Shockwave spoke: "Megatron's legacy drove Tyrania to act illogically. It should be made clear to all Decepticons that our most logical course of action is cooperation. The UIP/Alliance war is over, and if we are to demonstrate our boasts that we are superior, setting an example is the most logical first step."
Shockwave's wise words would be a guide for all future Decepticon activity, despite any irritation if caused Decepticons in future.
June 1st 2902
Un'tral system, planet Ba'lamith, Monto'rin colony.
On a comm. call in his apartment, Ja'hail Rathor tried to persuade the call receiver to listen to him and not hang up.
"Hey, yeah, look. I was wondering if you're going to be busy or out in the next two weeks? Its been a while since I visited."
Ja'hail narrowed his eyes in frustration as the voice on the other end almost shouted at him.
"I know we didn't leave things on the best of terms, but, I want to make it up to you. I wasn't right to behave like I did. I should have stuck by your side. But I want to be there in person to prove this, talk things over face to face."
The receiver spoke in a less angry tone now, but Ja'hail waited calmly to respond:
"Look, after Eru'lindi city, well, the war's over now. I came very close, and I've got a lot of credibility with security groups for later use. But, I came too close to dying more than usual with the NKI, and I want to make sure I have no loose ends. No regrets, even in peacetime. Please Mi'ran, as a brother. Please."
The voice was quiet, and it spoke in a more reasonable tone. Ja'hail's hopes got up now:
"8 days? Alright, I can book a flight out for then. And Mi'ran, best tell Kul'un I'm coming over. I remember what she was like the last time I was there."
A few words were exchanged from the receiver, to which Ja'hail smiled a little saying: "Well, the second one should be easier to pop out at least. I'll see you then. Thanks."
Hanging up the call, Ja'hail reclined on his couch, tension leaving his system. His brother would at least let him visit to make amends for abandoning him when he married Kul'un without telling Ja'hail.
After 5 years, about a year after the war started, and keeping track enough to know what was going on, Ja'hail wanted to form closer bonds with his only brother and sibling, and his family. He liked the prospect of being an uncle also.
As he reclined, he saw a snippet of a news report on the successful surgery of Alex Hunter/Damien, and how he and Kal'sik would be indentured into direct service to Sha'krii for the next 15 years together.
Sighing a bit, Ja'hail recalled how he and Alex never met during the Eru'lindi battle, as he'd been disguised all along as Dominic Cortez, fooling them all. But now, having helped secure the war's end, he was forced into glorified slavery with the main person that caused him fear.
"You're a survivor human. You escaped Ral'craz, held against Decepticons and much more. You can take on 15 years of keeping an eye on Kal'sik while you slave with him for Sha'krii. She won't be too cruel, but she has to keep public face I guess."
Ja'hail's future looked brighter, but his would be immediate, rather than paused or 15 years like those two.
June 2nd 2902
Xathana system, Xathana shipyards
Having been repaired from the attack by the NKI 10 months ago, the shipyards had been useful in the mothballing or retasking of the Dreadnought fleet.
The 2 Dreadnoughts to be given to the UIP were already seeing retrofits to meet UIP fleet regulations, though new regulations had to be drawn up for warships of this calibre. They were moored at a secondary drydock, worker drones and joint Alliance/UIP technicians and engineers overseeing the retrofits.
The 2 Alliance Dreadnoughts to remain in service had been fully working at the war's end, and were stationed around each Alliance homeworld now, 1 at Vae'rakin and the other around Tarihhis.
In the main shipyard drydock, the decommissioned dreadnoughts were in the process of being repurposed.
In drydock AXL-3, the Dreadnought Yu'muna was to be scrapped for parts and materials, a long process that would take years, but would yield useful materials for reconstruction efforts in some systems. Right now, its outer armour hull was being peeled away, the town sized plating being tugged by space based construction drones to nearby processing stations in the shipyard's main superstructure.
Drydock AXL-5 held the Uk'anak, the dreadnought that was in the process of being disarmed, and retrofitted as a temporary Alliance command HQ, whilst Konurich station was being repaired. Once the station was up and running again, estimates at 2 years, the Uk'anak would join the Yu'muna in being broken down for scrap.
The Dreadnought Ha'kanik, in drydock AXL-8, was different. As agreed, it was being stripped of all but defensive armaments, and retrofitted for long range and endurance, and cargo capacity for supplies. The Ha'kanik would become a joint UIP/Alliance ship, designed for long range exploration.
However, the AI's in the decommissioned Dreadnoughts were designed for warfare at their core, and couldn't be too easily reprogrammed. As such, along with 2 reinstated Alliance military officers as escorts, 2 NKI creations had been assigned to always be with the Dreadnought Ha'kanik. One as a explorer unit, the other as both an administrator, and an asset to remove and delete the AIs of the dreadnoughts.
"Processes deleted. Wiping blue box of archival copies. Access achieved, Dreadnought Ha'kanik Artificial Intelligence has been deleted. It is now safe to remove blue box for destruction."
Raxler's voice echoed over the speakers, and immediately the construction drones and Alliance/UIP technicians set about removing the blue boxes of the large AI core module.
Now, all 3 decommissioned Dreadnoughts were free of AI control.
Pulling out of the system, Raxler looked over to Aru'san, who was sat beside him, her large form observing the shipyard from the hanger of the Ha'kanik. The particle shields prevented atmosphere escape from the hanger, but for now didn't allow anything in or out of this hanger.
"That was the last of the intelligences. This vessel will be better controlled under your command, Raxler."
Aru'san's voice sounded somewhat low, to which Raxler deduced in his usual tone: "You're projected dislike for our situation is understandable, but illogical. By overseeing the operation of this explorer vessel, we can continue existing."
"Until the Alliance deems it necessary to offline us just as you had to offline these 3 AI's." Aru'san reasoned.
Whirring slightly, Raxler processed the statement. For now, things were good for them. But for how long.
Over the comms, a familiar voice called:
"Raxler. Aru'san. Any problems with the last AI?"
"Negative Admiral Kirth, the last Dreadnought AI was shut down wirelessly without flaw. The hacking codes provided by Kal'sik were of much assistance."
"Yes, well those codes won't work in the future. Alliance protocol will have them changed for security now that they've been used 3 times in one go. Of course they'll know, but in case someone wanted to sabotage these ships."
"What about if the Alliance tries to double cross the UIP by using those codes to hack the UIP dreadnoughts?" Raxler reasoned, testing their logic.
"Easy. The UIP will have their own, different codes to shut theirs off. Ours won't work." La'kias's voice sounded over the comm, with noises in the background indicating he was amidst a working area within the Dreadnought Uk'anak.
"Precisely, and Raxler, Aru'san. You two are vital components in this exploration Dreadnought. You're tried and tested AIs, despite Alliance brass not liking your illegal creation. But fortunately for you, Alex is taking the fall for that all on his own. This way, they won't try and shut you two down."
Kirth's words were sound, but somewhere in Raxler's processes he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease about the situation. What if the Alliance really did turn on them as easily as they could against the Dreadnought AIs? Especially since Alex was forced to reveal his and Aru'sans specifications.
Organics trusted one another, even if they were slow to do so. But synthetics, were too alien for trust to come easily. In Raxler's experience, synthetics simply thought all too differently from organics, more logic than emotion.
And Aru'san, with her more organic capacity by synthetic brain tissue and implants, simply had an even greater understanding of the disparity between the two forms of life and how they functioned at a mental level.
Looking to his side, where Aru'san's draconian form simply gazed out at the stars and the drydocks, Raxler knew that for both their sakes, they each had to look out for one another, while not doing anything to make the organics too wary.
Like organics, they wanted to live in peace, but they would defend themselves if all else failed.
14th June 2902
Ki'ristalis, Handan district aerospace port.
4 days after he had been cleared of all charges, and agreeing to hand over any biological/chemical weapon formulas he had stashed in his mind or in his files in the UIP on his return, Moko'tel had departed for the UIP on a chartered flight.
It had taken 15 days by an express booked flight, hitchhiking with exchanging UIP and Alliance diplomats, but Moko'tel was home after 3 and a half years.
Waiting in the arrivals lounge, Moko'tel saw the UIP 'suit' waiting for him. In all honesty, he was expecting someone bigger.
The youngish Grey male, who he already knew by documents was Jarothes Hu'treck, strode over and extended a pleasant hand to shake, a universal sign of no intended harm.
"Moko'tel, you got here alright then? No problems?"
"Food was good, and no irritating passengers like the plagues on a normal flight. But stop the small talk, why didn't you just send one of your agents?"
"I've been placed in high authority on investigating Zoran, or Oro'naze's deeds and history during and before the war. The perpetrator of the war, for lack of a better term."
"But why me? I'm already handing my chemical and biological weapon data to the Alliance to secure my freedom. I'm free of charge in the UIP, so why am I being called up?" Moko'tel wasn't necessarily angry, but he wanted to know why he had more to do.
"Believe me, I understand. But this is nothing to do with your 'misdeeds' in the past. Frankly, after Eru'lindi city, and in exchange for any details on how Zoran got influence enough to sneak a black ops team that far into Alliance space you know, and you will be free with benefits."
Thinking for a moment, his eyes gazing around at passing passengers, mandibles twitching in thought, Moko'tel considered the offer.
"What sort of benefits?"
"Monetary payment to an account, or accounts of your choice. At minimum, because we know you know something, we can pay you a year's UIP minimum wage for a Predator like you at minimum. It goes up the better the information is."
"I doubt its just that. You're CIB, I won't be let go so easily."
"You're right. Along with payment, because I doubt the information you have is overwhelmingly incriminating, we're offering you a job in our research divisions." Jarothes continued. Bringing up a datapad, and ushering them into a small corner of a waiting room, he continued while handing Moko'tel the datapad of job details.
"Research into biological and chemical tools, weapons, antidotes, vaccines, a very broad field. You'll get to choose your area of speciality, but in the end, the CIB knows that you're skills will be well suited to the work." Jarothes's eyes narrowed though:
"Of course, due to your illegal testing history of experimental drugs and chemicals, you're job under the CIB is useful for public morale in that you'll be closely monitored like any employee there."
Moko'tel now had the full picture: "So I get a good paying job, with a bonus, provided I give details on Zoran's influence to get a team into the Kro'nogri capital and take a job that lets you keep an eye on me to not cause trouble again?"
It didn't take long, as Moko'tel had learnt his lesson all too well in the prison, and his brief stint in the KI:
"I'll accept the moment you have a position ready."
"Excellent. Now-" Jarothes took the datapad back from Moko'tel, saying: "A copy of the information has already been sent to your private account. We'll likely contact within a week."
"Wait, I thought my message account, and my assets in the UIP had been frozen when I had to flee?"
"You didn't think we'd keep that in place if we wanted you to cooperate, did you? Besides, even if we hadn't approached, we'd have lifted the freeze anyway due to your services in Eru'lindi city."
With that, Jarothes turned to look at the hallway nearby, leading to the terminal transit station:
"One last thing, might I offer you a ride to wherever you're headed?"
"Yes you can. 14 Kaimal Street, Iklin district." Moko'tel recited. His new address, a temporary, spartan outfitted flat he'd quickly rented under UIP funds from the CIB.
"Yeah, no need to say it. We already knew." Jarothes sarcastically remarked as they began to walk to the transit station through the terminal.
"What don't the CIB know? Aside of course, knowing that their boss was secretly the cause of the war by his actions in doubting peace was possible, and wanting to strike the first blow in secret."
"Everything we can know. No organization is perfect and all knowing, despite what conspiracy nutjobs might preach on the data net." Jarothes remarked.
It was true, conspirators and the media were having a blast in questioning the capabilities of the UIP organizations, and similarly in the Alliance.
14th June 2902, same day.
Alliance space, Konurich station, docking bay 23C
The open framed ring space station was marred by large construction frames covering the blast marks and broken sections. The rogue Decepticon incursion had done a number on the station for sure.
Most of the Alliance were thankful that the initial Decepticon occupation had allowed the civilians to evacuate during and after its seizure, as none had been around when Tyrania's loyalists rebelled to try and seize the station.
Still under repairs, the massive Alliance space station was surrounded by numerous ships, including donated UIP and Cybertronian construction vessels.
In the distance, as he gazed through the transparisteel viewing port, Je'rol saw the distant silhouette of the disarmed Dreadnought Uk'anak. Having being stripped of most weapons, it now served as the communications hub for the Alliance, until Konurich was fully up and running again.
Looking around, he saw his 3 co passengers on their due flight watching the small groups of Decepticons and organics below them, milling about on a roadway beneath their own walkway.
Within the group, the female human clone recognized some mechs below, noting that Brawl and Knockout had done well to seal the bulkhead door and stop that one rogue advance.
Smiling to herself slightly, she saw Azula and Xale stood beside one another, her hand on his arm as they watched some Leg'hrul engineers and visiting UIP humans and greys drive by on a repulsor transport, carrying construction drones to their designated site 2 kilometres down the station.
Behind them, Je'rol coughed to show them the shuttle arriving at their docking tube.
Lexa saw Je'rol's look briefly, a mixture of uncertainty and aggression. Compared to Xale and Azula, who were looking forward to their long term posting, Je'rol had nowhere to go himself. By necessity, he was tagging along with them, and didn't feel like he belonged.
The Sril'sask hung back as Azula and Xale boarded the transport, but Lexa stopped by him briefly:
"You ready?"
"For what?"
"To have a life of your own."
Je'rol's eyes narrowed slightly, but he laughed to himself as he remarked: "Do you realize how stupid that sounded?"
"The doctor said you might do this, deflect with humour. So tell me, are you ready to try for a new life?"
No longer laughing, Je'rol commented dryly: "What else can I do? I'll go where I'm wanted. But..."
"But what?" Lexa asked.
"You three know each other, I'm an outcast compared to you all. I tried to kill you myself." Je'rol reasoned.
"You saved my life, so we're even there. And me and Xale are clones, while Azula comes from a backwater, parallel developed human race. You're not exactly extreme for us." Lexa argued.
Resigning himself, Je'rol commented: "Well, at least I won't have the UIP or Alliance on my back really where we're going."
As the two walked into the docking tube, Lexa added: "Well, not directly anyway."
2 hours later
"So the new research station is on those islands again?" Azula asked.
Pointing out on the map of New Earth, in the Solaris system, Lexa explained further: "The joint UIP/Alliance research team saw that Alex's spot was already a good one geographically. Too far out for chance encounters with local ships easily, but easy for them to send out teams from and land at discretely."
"What about the damage done by the Alliance bombardment by Admiral Ke'ranes? You know, where Norstith..." Xale trailed off there, the loss coming back to him now.
Frankly, it had been a problem for the two clones, as the war was finally over, and they had time to fully process what had been lost. Norstith, their father figure and creator, had been dead for 5 months now.
"The bombardment left little radiation, but they'll pick a different island among the chain, one that wasn't hit." Lexa pointed to one of the smaller islands, untouched and devoid of radiation levels and craters.
"I'm guessing a simple research outpost won't take up as much room as a full blown base anyway." Azula reasoned. She couldn't wait to get back to New Earth, back to familiar territory. So much had happened in 5 months, and she was eager to spend an extended period not traversing planets and systems.
Her mother would appreciate her back certainly.
"I wonder what's changed in the nations while we've been gone?" Xale wondered.
"Politics, rebuilding from the war, not much in the grand scheme of things I'd wager." Azula exchanged.
Near the back, Je'rol slumped to himself, muttering aloud: "Well, at least I won't be the only alien on the base. Maybe I can make myself useful somehow."
Lexa looked at Je'rol, somewhat saddened by his lonesome state, and said:
"Lets get there first. Its what the doctors told all of us to do to recover. Take things slowly. One step at a time."
"And if you need someone to talk to, just tell me." She finished.
She couldn't fully explain it, but Je'rol's reclusive interior, beneath his fierce exterior, made her want to know the Sril'sask better. And honestly, she felt sorry for him, being sold into slavery at such a young age.
Alex's memories of a brief gladiator ring stint gave her an insight into a small part of Je'rol's rough life.
And she had been told, just as Azula was to Xale, that having someone new to care about helped one's own person recover from stress, depression and loss.
Suffering was eased if done together.
And on New Earth, they would be more detatched and peaceful from the UIP/Alliance whilst they healed.
Nearly done guys.
As usual, please could you review/constructively criticise.
This will either be the second to last, or the third to last chapter. Either way, I'm wrapping this story up very soon.
I'm leaving it opem ended enough for interpretation, but close linked enough for me to return to writing in this universe.
A reminder to my readers, my next project will not involve this mixed universe at all, but something quite different.
But to anyone who wants me to continue this story of Alex/the mixed galaxy powers, I have some ideas:
An extended story set near the end of Alex/Kal'sik's 15 year indentured service, which explains certain mysteries around the New Earth/spirit world/sci fi features of spiritual features. Also where characters go in those 15 years. It won't be as long as this story of Dark Hunter, Dark Redemption was.
One-shots, such as pre war, intra war or up to 15 years post war short stories of certain characters, featured or brand new. Comedic, dramatic, romantic, informative. You decide, give me suggestions, and I can whip one up.
