Chapter 3
Daroth stood in line together with the rest of the new students of the 46th military academy of Hashera. The recruits were divided into two groups, each wearing different uniforms.
The smaller group of about thirty along with Daroth wore black uniforms with red collars, while the other hundred or so, wore black with blue collars.
The instructors before them wore black with gold collars, along with an insignia on their right breast of an open book with two crossed knives over it.
"Welcome everyone, to the military training program. As you can see, you have been divided into two groups. The smaller group of you are the ones that have been recommended for officer training. This is a great privilege, but it is also a responsibility. We will expect more of you, and we'll be far less tolerant for any mistakes.
Your training will start with unarmed combat, which will last for the next ten to fifteen years to give you a proper mastery of the fighting styles as well as your physical ability. The next five years will cover cold melee weapons, after which, we'll start with the various weapons, equipment and vehicles our military has at their disposal. Once you go through all this, you will be soldiers of the Collective. After this, those amongst you still in the officer program will continue on with further instructions. Now divide into groups of six and await your instructor." The chief instructor informed them.
Daroth quickly moved towards the people closest to him, three more men and two women and awaited their instructor.
"Alright, listen up. The galaxy has thousands of fighting styles, and finding the right one is a problem many people out there face. Not us, though. Our styles fit practically everyone. The first style is the Crushing Fist. It's well rounded, and easy to learn for novices. Once you master this, provided you're good enough, you get to learn the Bloody Claw. This style is more aggressive and takes great skill to master. As for the Shadow Strike, that style is reserved for the Order of Death and is taught by their own instructors. Now, we'll start with the opening stance of the Crushing Fist." The instructor took a stance, after which he observed them and corrected their form.
The training was not just unarmed combat, though. Vast amounts of reading material was assigned to the recruits, covering the theoretical aspects of combat. Things like tactics, logistics, team dynamics, chain of command etc.
The days on Hashera lasted for 32 standard hours, and this length of time was taken for the standard day in the Collective. Some planets had different local time, but on ships and stations, this was the standard in use.
Daroth's time was stretched thin with sixteen hours spent in the academy in training and study, and another eight in various science labs trying to determine the full potential of his unique ability and how to pass it on to others safely.
Careful study of his genetic structure allowed the scientists to develop a simple process to give this ability to others, but learning how to use it was another thing.
"You alright, Daroth?" His best friend in the academy, a girl only five years older named Arella asked him.
"Just feeling tired. We hit a dead end in the research yesterday. No matter how hard I try, I can't do anything else besides moving things and making small changes." He sighed.
"Didn't you manage to displace yourself a few days ago?" She reminded him.
Daroth nodded, remembering the day when desperate for something new, managed to displace across the lab. Repeated experiments determined how to do this, and the scientists learned what happened when he did this. It was a crude semblance of the tachyon displacement technology, with a single flaw. The displacement affected the air in both the point of origin and the destination, creating a small thunderclap that caused a loud crack to sound when it was done.
"Yes, but nothing more since." He sighed again.
"Come on then. I can't stand to see you so depressed." Arella pulled him to his feet.
"Where are we going?" He asked.
"My place. You need to cheer up, and I know just the way." She gave him a sly wink.
Several hours later, the two lay in bed, exhausted but feeling much better.
"Thanks, Arella. I really needed that." Daroth pulled her closer to him and gave her a light peck on the cheek.
"What are friends for?" She grinned. "You know, I've been thinking about your trouble. This ability is genetic, right?"
Daroth nodded, curious about her thoughts.
"Well, that means your parents had it too, right? Surely you have some memories of them." She asked.
Daroth wanted to bash his head into the wall. It was so simple. But like they say, the simplest answers are usually the most difficult to spot.
"I'll meditate and see what I can find." Daroth stood up and picked up his clothes. "Thanks again." He gave her another kiss.
Trying to recall memories of such an early age was beyond difficult. A Lantrisi could recall almost any point of his life starting with a week from birth, but those earliest memories of his life were made while he was still human. After hours of deep meditation, he had managed to gather some unrelated flashes, enough to get him some ideas.
One of the first things he learned was his name and the names of his parents. He was named Harry, and his parents were James and Lily Potter.
He also managed to determine the date of his memories from a glimpse of a calendar, which said August 1981.
The rest were a jumbled mess of scenes and impressions. He saw a man that he felt was a good friend of the family turn himself into a large dog that jumped on his dad and started licking his face, saw his mother mix something in a large cauldron, then, to his excitement, saw his dad take a stick from his pocket and use it to send several books towards a bookshelf. Then, the scene changed, and he saw his mother stand between himself and a man in a dark robe. There was a flash of green and his mother collapsed.
Then, the man pointed the stick at him, and the last thing he remembered before his meditation was broken was a cold, evil voice hiss the words "Avada Kedavra."
"A what?" The chief scientist, a man called Garshan gave him a strange look.
"A wand. I think it's a focus." Daroth replied.
"A focus, huh? You said it was made of wood, then?" Garshan mused. "I doubt we can make something like that, though. We don't know what type of wood, how it is processed, or whether or not there are other aspects of these wands you didn't manage to recall. Still, something to focus and direct the energy is a good idea. Some sort of metal would be best, I think. We have more experience with metals and it's harder to break a metal wand. We'll probably have something for you in a week or two. Until then, there's no reason to bother you."
Feeling grateful for the unexpected free time, as well as the recent progress in the project, Daroth returned to his military training with renewed zeal.
His friendship with Arella grew, but they both realized that neither wanted to start a relationship at this stage of their lives. There was still the casual sex between them, but to Lantrisi, sex didn't have the same taboo most races had for it.
One night stands were quite common, as well as multiple partners. The older Lantrisi who had developed and mastered the art of Form Dancing, an advanced skill that allowed them to change their bodies at will were known to change genders when they grew bored with the one they held at the moment.
"We have something for you." Two weeks later, he was once again meeting Garshan. On the table before him were three metal wands ten inches in length. Two of them were silvery, while the third was a light, almost white golden color.
"This one first. Focus on releasing light from it." Daroth did so, and a strong but narrow beam of light burst forth.
"Excellent. Now the second." This time, the beam was over a foot wide, and Daroth had to narrow his eyes to shield them from the brightness.
"Here, put these on and use the third." Daroth's eyebrow rose when he was handed a pair of welder's goggles. Those were used with plasma welders and they glowed bright enough to completely burn out your retinas. If this happened to a Lantrisi, he had to have the eyeballs removed so new ones could grow in their place.
The beam of light engulfed the whole room and could easily be seen through the goggles. In fact, Daroth had to close his eyes even with them.
"Alright, let me explain these wands. After a lot of experiments with different alloys, we found these two. The first we called mithril, and it has the ability to conduct the energy you produce with almost no losses. The wand is processed in a way to direct the energy from the handle to the tip.
The second metal we called arcanite, and unlike the first, it's not a conductor, but an amplifier. We still don't know the reasons why, but it can boost the power put into it a hundredfold, and the more you use, the bigger the boost. This second wand has a small piece of it encased inside the tip, which should give you not only focus, but also a reasonable boost to your power. The last wand is not practical; we just wanted to see what would happen." Garshan grinned.
As if a dam had burst, with the new wands, the Lantrisi had advanced this branch of science in an astounding pace. They developed new and more complex ways to change objects, even living to non-living and vice versa, as well as conjuring objects and creatures from thin air. An accidental discovery led to the discovery of enchantment. Pouring energy into a written word gave power to it. Immediately, vast writing for protection, shielding and strengthening were engraved into all their ships, then charged using large arcanite wands. This tripled the defensive power of the already incredibly tough Lantrisi ships, giving them the breathing room they needed.
While all this went on, Daroth had finished his full military training, as well as his officer and commander training. Thanks to his exemplary results, he was given the rank of Datak and command of one of the new Koraash carriers along with command of the 32 Fleet that patrolled one part of their borders with the Baroth Syndicate.
The Syndicate was a loosely tied band of large tribes of pirates, mercenaries and raiders, and were the only race that traded with the Lantrisi. They also often launched raiding parties in their territories, looking for targets of opportunity, hoping to score advanced weapons or technology.
Daroth, now a century old, spent over fifty years hunting raiders all over his assigned area, as well as numerous other missions, ranging from escort duty to scientific research.
His performance had quickly earned him the rank of Nihtar, an astounding accomplishment for one as young as him.
Now, however, his Lord had asked him to come back to Hashera. His friend Arella had joined his staff right after they graduated, and had risen to his executive officer over the years. After consulting with Fleet Command, Daroth took no small pleasure in promoting her to Datak and giving her command of the 32 Fleet.
"Daroth, it is good to see you again. Years ago, I promised you that you would one day be given the opportunity to join the Order of Death. That day is today. Once you have completed your training, I want you to organize the Order's mages into a new chapter with you as the commander. Do you accept?" This shocked Daroth. This was an unexpected honor.
"I would be honored, sir." He bowed deeply.
"Ah and here comes your new superior. I don't believe you've met my daughter Sophia have you?" Lord Deathhand grinned.
Daroth turned, and his body froze. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen just walked in the room, moving with ethereal grace. Her midnight black hair swayed gently as she moved, only increasing her allure. A perfect face, with sharp, predatory lines enhanced it even further.
"Hello, Daroth. You sure have grown since I last saw you." She replied in a melodious voice.
"It is an honor to meet you, milady." Daroth bowed, gently kissing her offered hand.
"The honor is all mine, Daroth. Come with me, I'll take you to the Skull Temple." She informed him. Lord Deathhand watched them leave, a strange smirk adorning his face.
Training for the Order went beyond extreme and brutal. The Shadow Strike was a fighting style that demanded extreme precision and control of one's body, and their infiltration and assassination techniques took decades to fully master. Also, the Order members were heavily trained in interrogation and ways to resist it, which meant suffering long and excruciatingly painful torture sessions that were designed to increase their pain tolerance.
Daroth trained for centuries, finally completing his training and creating the Mage chapter of the Order.
During this time, it came to quite a surprise of several people when he and Sophia Deathhand got together. Daroth found her to be a kind and gentle soul, and he had grown to love her deeply.
A surprise for all was when he developed the Form Dancing ability, five centuries earlier than he should have. It turned out that some genes related to his magical genes gave him a mild ability to alter his appearance. This rather limited gift was used by the Lantrisi DNA to complete the data for the Form Dancing early.
A unique property of their DNA was the fact that it was incomplete. A rather complex structure of four double helixes, the DNA slowly added new information or rewrote old data as they aged, which was why older Lantrisi had advanced abilities like Form Dancing and a very mild gift with telekinesis, and also why the older one got, the stronger and tougher one became.
Daroth had passed well over six hundred when experiments using various branches of science managed to create the means to send him to his own world. They did not want to send him away just like that, but it was found that there was a pull from his home universe at all times around him.
"I am sad to see you go, Daroth. You have given the Collective a lot. Many will miss you." Lord Deathhand embraced him before Daroth would depart for his home universe.
"I will miss you as well, my Lord." Daroth managed to suppress the tears.
"You will not go unequipped into this world. I prepared this for you." Lord Deathhand gave him a watch.
"It uses the flat space technology we developed recently. It contains three singularity generators for charging, fifty feeding units, twenty Decimator pistols and ten rifles, as well as four Reaper sniper rifles with five thousand rounds for them. I also added a hundred plasma grenades and twenty antimatter demolition charges."
"Be prepared for anything, huh?" Daroth grinned at the massive arsenal on his wrist. That was enough to obliterate a large garrison. On the planet where he was going, it was beyond overkill.
"I never thought I'd see Earth without over twenty Alliance ships shooting at me." Arella grinned.
"It is an interesting sight, alright. I guess I have no choice, then. Locate the largest magical area in Britain and send me down." Daroth sighed, preparing himself for life on a human infested world.
AN: This concludes the mega flashback, and from the next chapter, Harry will deal with the hordes of adoring fans and people trying to discover his past. The flat space technology was borrowed from Ultraviolet, it was just too cool not to :)