Chapter 8: Spartan Accommodations
Having navigated the unexpected detour, Peppy reset the Great Fox's destination computer and reactivated the ship's lightdrive. After a few short hours, the vessel reached Skallis. Standing on the bridge next to the holoprojector, Fox stared through the Great Fox's front viewports at the black planet below. The part of the planet directly ahead faced away from the distant sun, but despite the shadow of night, innumerable orange and yellow trails lit up the planet, with few gaps anywhere to be found. The strength of the artificial light even managed to pierce the clouds covering portions of the planet. Natural areas seemed scant, and even from a distance, Fox picked up hints suggesting a strong industrial air enveloping Scarlet's homeworld.
Standing next to him, the vixen glanced at him and spoke. "Welcome to Skallis, boys. Honestly, it's not a great place. But it is a place with a lot of opportunity if you're willing to look for it."
From the pilot's chair, Peppy asked, "Are they any platforms that we can dock at? Or is it better if we just stay in orbit?"
"For right now," Scarlet replied, "I think it's best just to orbit the planet. There are a few platforms, but most of them are ripoffs, and you wouldn't want to have to trust the people operating them with a ship this nice. I'll talk it over with my boss tonight and see if he can make a special arrangement for you guys on his commercial platform. That's going to depend on what Fox chooses to do next." She locked eyes with him momentarily.
Fox took the opportunity to reply. "Yeah, on that note, you said that Felix wants to meet with you and me?"
"He does, yes. As soon as possible, actually. If we head down to the planet's surface right now, we'll be able to catch him before he turns in for the night."
"Do I need any kind of special clearances?"
"Maybe. Just follow me and you'll be good."
With a nod, Fox glanced at Peppy and then at Slippy—seated in a chair to his left. "Scarlet told me a bit about this planet. There's not a lot of government oversight and there are a lot of lawless groups out there. If anyone tries anything funny while you're in orbit waiting for an update from me, you know what to do."
"You got it, Fox," Peppy affirmed.
Turning around, Fox motioned to Scarlet and began the familiar walk to the ship's elevator. Descending to the hangar level, the two foxes walked down the long hallway leading to the hangar and stepped into the cavernous space. Taking a short glance at Krystal's damaged ship, Scarlet strutted across the hangar floor towards her dark gray camouflage transport. As she neared it, Fox stopped her and asked, "Were you planning on having me ride with you?"
Scarlet turned around. "Well, yeah."
"Were you also planning on flying me back up here when we're done talking to Felix?"
A slight frown crossed Scarlet's lips. "Not really. I didn't really give it a lot of thought, to be honest."
"This seems to be a theme with you," said Fox, half-joking.
Scarlet's frown partially vanished, with hints of a sly grin peeking through. "Shut up. It's just that it's going to be a lot more difficult for you to get a landing permit at Felix's company spaceport if you follow me in your Arwing. I've got a VIP clearance for my ship and can land whenever I want."
"Well, if that's true, then it won't be too hard for you to fly me back up here when we're done, since you can just go back and land again."
Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Fine."
"Was there some other alternative that I'm not aware of?"
"Maybe," said Scarlet, "Felix has a pretty snazzy manor house with a lot of guest rooms. I could probably convince him to let you stay in one…or you could stay with me in my room." She winked at him.
Unable to prevent himself from blushing, Fox replied, "Maybe. But I don't think things are going to get as spicy as you think they will. I'm tired as hell and am probably going to crash the instant I touch the bed."
"Fair enough," said Scarlet. "Let's talk with Felix first, and then you can decide what you want to do. Sound like a deal?"
Fox sighed, knowing full well that Scarlet had virtually zero interest in bringing him back to the Great Fox—tonight, at least. "Sure."
- § -
Scarlet's transport descended through the cloud cover above Skallis' unlit half. The ship's internal clock changed to reflect a local time of 9:48 PM—late for a business meeting, but this did not strike Fox as a typical meeting. As the transport dropped altitude, Fox got a better look at the scenery—if it could have been called that. Drab, dark gray buildings stretched as far as the eye could see, the stunning amount of light pollution creating the effect of a starless sky above. A subtle film of dirt and grime covered the environment, with many of the buildings looking run-down or disheveled in some way while still remaining intact and functional. The combined vibe of the locale made it clear to Fox that he had stepped into some form of functioning dystopia.
Ahead in the distance, an array of much cleaner looking high-rises towered over the sprawling morass around it, while even farther in the distance, colossal factories belched plumes of smoke into the night sky. The sheer size of the industrial operation caught Fox off guard. Looking at Scarlet, he asked, "Is that a drive yard?"
"Yep," she replied. "That industrial area is where the Gaia Corporation builds its spaceships. It's a huge operation—one of the largest in the system. And for good reason: Gaia is one of the top builders of medium and large ships in this network of planets.
"And you just casually happen to be on a first name basis with the guy running all of it," Fox muttered.
"Funny how it works like that," said Scarlet.
While Fox looked over the seemingly endless metropolis, Scarlet navigated her ship toward the high-rises. From above the spires illuminated with blue accent lights and adorned with blocky "G" logos flanked by a sideways arrow on each side, a moderately sized spaceport came into view. It lacked the capacity for commercial transit and looked just barely large enough for a ship like the Great Fox to land at. As Scarlet neared it, the spaceport's control tower flagged her and demanded identification. With no drama, she confirmed her ship's credentials and set her craft on its final descent course.
The transport touched down on the concrete ground next to a similarly sized but far more elegant looking craft with the same "G" logo that Fox noticed on several of the buildings surrounding the spaceport. Powering down the craft's engines, Scarlet unclipped her safety harness and stretched. However, she did not get up from her seat.
Fox, noticing this, asked her, "Don't we need to get moving?"
Scarlet smiled. "Nope. Felix has us covered. Just wait a few minutes."
Despite being a bit confused, Fox took her at her word and stared out the ship's front viewport at the private spaceport surrounding them. Small spacecrafts dotted the landing surface, most of them civilian in nature with no visible weapons. Small trees and plants grew along the tiny stretches of natural earth designed as part of the spaceport, but their puny, insignificant size compared to the scale of the industrial sprawl felt like a metaphor for the entire planet.
After five minutes, a large, nondescript black sedan car rolled onto the concrete landing pad and approached Scarlet's ship. The vehicle's relatively drab, plain exterior seemed like it was designed to attract as little attention as possible. Still, it managed to exude an air of subdued, commanding luxury. The vehicle stopped in front of the vessel and flashed its lights twice, prompting Scarlet to finally stand up. "That's our ride," she said to Fox.
Rising from his seat, Fox frowned and commented, "You never had plans for me to go back to my ship tonight, did you?"
"Not really," Scarlet admitted. "Just go with it—it's better this way."
"For you, maybe."
A defensive aura coated Scarlet's words. "Hey, you say that now, but if Felix lets you stay in his manor, you're never going to want to leave."
"We'll see, then," Fox replied.
Walking past her tied-down fighter in the cargo bay that occupied most of her transport's interior, Scarlet opened the rear cargo door and led Fox down the metal loading ramp onto the spaceport's concrete pavement. Once Fox set foot outside the craft, Scarlet touched a small button on her ship's loading ramp, causing it to retract and hide the ship's contents. As the two walked towards the car, its driver's door opened, and a tall, muscular husky emerged, wearing a dark gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie. An exposed handgun hung from his waist, making it obvious that he was not someone to be trifled with.
Scarlet sauntered towards him with a smile on her face that the husky reciprocated as she neared him. "Hey, Hartmann. Good to see you again. How's Felix been?"
Hartmann answered, "Stressed out, as always. The stuff you sent him last night seems to have him on edge more than usual, though."
"Huh," said Scarlet. "I thought it was pretty weird, but I didn't know it would bother him that much. I guess I'll have to ask him about it. Anyway, thanks for picking me and Fox up on short notice."
"It's literally my job," the husky chuckled.
"But you'd still do it for me even if it wasn't," Scarlet replied with the softest puppy-dog eyes she was capable of.
Hartmann smiled. "Perhaps."
Walking to the passenger's side of the car, she opened the rear door and motioned for Fox to take a seat. Once he was inside, she ducked in behind him and closed the door, while Hartmann dropped into the driver's seat and turned the car around.
Fox took stock of the car's interior. In keeping with the staid yet refined exterior design, the inside reflected the same subdued luxury, with plush, comfortable seating, leather and metal trim, and subtle design choices suggesting that it cost more than it looked like it should have when viewed from the outside. However, he also noticed the black limo tint obscuring his and Scarlet's windows; and the ponderous way the car handled made him suspect that it had armor plating. Fox suddenly felt less comfortable with his surroundings.
Looking out his window at the passing traffic and buildings, the same dirty, gritty film that he saw from the air made itself even more apparent on the ground. Small but consistent amounts of litter dotted the roads and sidewalks, with amateurish graffiti covering some of the buildings that looked more run-down than the others. In particular, Fox noticed one concrete building with the unsubtle message "FUCK SPARTA" plastered across its side with black spray paint.
Scarlet noticed it as well and sighed. She said nothing, however.
Fox glanced at her, taking hints from her body language in an attempt to discern her thoughts. Finally, he quietly asked her, "Is that a common attitude for people here to feel towards Felix?"
Scarlet sighed again. "The 'common' people here don't really like him. Or Asgard's C-suite, for that matter. Years ago, I would have said that they were just jealous, but I understand things better now. Honestly, there isn't much opportunity for the average person here on Skallis. If you're not born with connections, you're mostly fucked." She motioned to the depressing world outside the car. "Of course, it is possible to rise above it—bootstraps and all that crap—but if I'm honest, the people who do it are the kind of people who would have been destined for greatness no matter where they came from—like my mentor. For the average Joe, this is all they're ever going to get. Unless they find a way into a decent position at Gaia or Asgard or live 'off the record'—if you know what I mean—just existing here is difficult. And that makes people angry." Under her breath, she muttered, "Don't ask me how I know."
Fox looked at her with dark sympathy and mused about her. The self-awareness she possessed regarding the reality of her own privilege surprised him, but her cold, uncaring attitude towards it also rubbed him the wrong way. "Then again, she's the real merc here. I'm just a gun for hire pretending there's an opening in this industry for someone with a functioning moral compass."
The palpable nihilism of his surroundings worked to drive the point home even further. This wasn't Corneria—where the strong central government worked towards the general welfare of its citizens. This was a hellhole—an anarchistic, conscience-free playground for the rich and the violent where money talked and morality went to die. In many ways, it made sense why someone like Scarlet would call this place home.
And he hated it. Everything he saw as the car—unaffordable to 99% of the location's populace—neared its destination reinforced his own deeply entrenched fear and subliminal belief that his own life's purpose was a lie that he chose to tell himself so he could avoid grappling with the reality that his finely-honed skill set was at odds with his personal ideals and that he needed to look for a new calling.
He sat in silence for the rest of the car ride, until he noticed the surroundings becoming less depressing, gray, and covered in obscene graffiti. The buildings seemed to become nicer, both with regard to aesthetics and cleanliness; and the trash on the streets disappeared. As he took note of this, Hartmann turned the car into a tree-lined driveway leading up to a tall wrought iron gate. As the car rolled up to it, Fox noticed a 5-meter tall brick wall built around it. Hartmann pressed a button on his sun visor, and the gate swung open. Inside, the driveway snaked through an assortment of ornamental, exotic trees flanked by flawless, deep green grass that lined the concrete road.
Finally, the driveway ended in a four-car garage attached to a colossal manor house that looked like nothing else anywhere nearby. Built equally of stone and stucco, the two-story building dominated the scenery—even though the perfectly manicured trees and the swimming pool designed to look like an outdoor oasis did their best to draw eyes towards them.
Hartmann stopped the car and turned it off, prompting Scarlet to open her car door and step out. Fox followed her lead as Hartmann led the way towards the front door. Unlocking it, he pushed it open and held it for the two foxes. Once inside, Scarlet closed the door and tailed Hartmann as he ascended an ornate set of stairs to the building's second floor and turned left into the hallway at the top. The short, secluded corridor ended in a heavy wood door with "OFFICE" embossed on a bronze plaque mounted on its surface.
Upon reaching the door, Hartmann turned around and said "You can take it from here. I'm going to put the car away," before walking down the hall and disappearing down the stairs.
Collecting herself, Scarlet walked up to the door and knocked. Seconds later, a muffled voice called out from inside the room. "Scarlet?"
"Hi Felix," Scarlet replied. "I brought Fox. Are you in a good place to have a quick chat?"
Felix kept his response short. "Come in."
Scarlet turned the door handle and pushed the weighty door open. Inside the room, shelves upon shelves of books, seemingly random trinkets that probably meant more to Felix than anyone else, and dark blue patterned walls boxed in the otherwise cozy space. Felix himself sat behind his desk, wearing a simple but exceptionally tailored dress shirt and slacks along with a pair of narrow frameless glasses. His otherwise tidy appearance contrasted with his long, light blond hair that fell to his shoulders. In terms of age, he looked close to Scarlet's—late 20s or early 30s. The vulpine motioned for Fox and Scarlet to seat themselves at the two chairs across from his desk. He directed his attention to Scarlet first. "Good to see you again, Scarlet. I hope you've been well."
"About as well as could be expected," she replied, nonchalantly.
Looking at his other guest, Felix said, "Fox McCloud—while I admit I wasn't familiar with you before, Scarlet told me a lot of great things about you. I had to look it all up to verify it, and it does appear that the praise is justified. Very impressive work you've done. You've certainly earned my respect."
Fox nodded. "Thank you, sir."
"Just call me Felix. This isn't a corporate setting." He leaned ever so slightly forward in his chair, then added, "Let me get straight to the point—I have a theory for what Asgard Industries is up to. Maybe you two can be my voices of reason in the event that my sleep-deprived mind is shorting out."
"Hit us with it," Scarlet replied.
"You got it," said Felix. "From what you've sent me, Antoine Carache is working with this Cerinian—Nero? Was that his name?"
"Neron Taero," Scarlet replied, her voice flat and curt.
"Yeah, him," Felix picked up, "Carache is working with him for some reason that I can't seem to put my finger on, but the Cerinian clone soldiers you found on Saijivo must have something to do with it. Are you as confused as I am?"
"No," Fox spoke up. "Something else came up on our way here that made things a lot more clear."
Felix's ears poked up higher. "Do tell."
"Our ship was forced out of its lightspeed route by a skirmish between two Cerinian ships. A larger frigate was trying to destroy a small transport. I made the decision to take out the larger ship to save the smaller one, and we pulled the surviving ship into my team's hangar. We questioned the pilot, and as luck would have it, she's Neron's daughter. She told me a few things that might shed a bit of light on what Carache is after."
Felix's eyes stared into his soul, his attention rapt.
Fox continued, "She thinks her father is working with Carache to overthrow the acting government on Cerinia. Let me throw it back to you and ask if you have any ideas as to how the Cerinian clone soldiers might play into this?"
"Well, it seems obvious to me," Felix replied. "The way I see it, the clones might have been created specifically as an invasion force, since the Cerinians are notoriously xenophobic and wouldn't respond well to Asgard's normal mercenaries functioning as a liberating army. If this is what they're after, I'd bet that Asgard has more battle groups hidden in other facilities elsewhere."
"But why would they go through all that trouble?" asked Fox. "It doesn't make sense from a financial perspective. And why are they being so secretive about it?"
"Those are the more difficult questions," Felix replied. He adjusted his glasses. "I have a theory that's coming to mind, though. I genuinely hope I'm wrong, but I have a bad feeling that I might be onto something." He paused. "What do you two know about thyresium?"
Fox answered. "The fuel that capital ships use to run their faster-than-light engines?"
"Exactly," Felix replied with a grim smile. "As you might know, it's not exactly common, and most of the known material deposits have already been mined. However, planetary scans have suggested that the planet Cerinia has enormous thyresium deposits to the point where the planet's south pole is virtually an ocean of black rock. The material is so plentiful there that if someone were to gain a monopoly on it, they would also effectively gain a monopoly on faster-than-light space travel."
Fox felt a sinking feeling in his gut. "Oh."
"I feel similarly," said Felix. "I know I don't have any hard evidence suggesting that's what Carache is after, but I have a strong feeling that's what it is. The amount of power and money unfettered access to those deposits would give him is almost unfathomable. I think Carache is doing everything he can to keep it hidden from me and my associates, because if it's true, it's significant enough that we'd be forced to take major action." He glanced at both Fox and Scarlet and sighed, "Obviously, for the sake of my family's company, I have to do something to prevent this. If the Cerinians overthrow their government, it's of no concern to me. But Asgard Industries cannot be allowed to control that thyresium."
Fox shuffled in his seat. "I think this is above my pay grade, Felix. If you want to keep talking about this, I'm willing to listen; but I probably can't do anything to help you here. I don't even know if I should get involved."
The long-haired fox gave him a friendly, albeit somber look in return. "I have these kinds of talks with Scarlet on the regular, and she's a solo merc just like you. She doesn't concern herself with the business's financials, but she's a good voice of reason for me. I hate to admit it, but I don't have many friends. Sometimes I just need someone outside the corporate world to listen to me and throw around some ideas. As for whether you should get involved with what comes next, I'll let you make that decision after we finish talking."
Fox nodded. Felix cleared his throat and presented the most loaded of questions. "Assuming that Asgard Industries plans on launching an invasion force and attacking Cerinia, how are we supposed to prevent them from succeeding? I'm open to ideas here. Think of this as a brainstorming session."
The three pondered their options for a moment before Scarlet spoke up. "What if we attacked Asgard's fleet before they could leave for Cerinia? It would be messy as hell and would do a lot of damage to this planet, but it's the most obvious way to stop them."
Felix sighed and frowned. "That would also mean all-out corporate war on Skallis. The Gaia Corporation and Asgard Industries—despite constantly sniping at each other and meddling in each other's affairs—have avoided the temptation to wage war on each other for decades, because it would be economically devastating for everyone involved. They also have more warships than I do. But I'll keep the option open if that's what it really comes down to. If Asgard really intends to gain a thyresium monopoly, the Gaia Corporation's future is in doubt."
He hesitated for a moment, then, unsure of himself, suggested, "I have an idea of my own, but I think it might be too ridiculous to work. Just hear me out. If it did work, it would end this problem with the fewest lives and company resources lost. As Fox probably knows, thyresium is an extremely volatile material, and it reacts violently to extreme heat and pressure. My thinking was that if my one active carrier-dreadnaught could get into position close enough to the planet, it could open fire on the mass of thyresium at the planet's south pole, potentially causing an explosive chain reaction and rendering it useless for mining. No one has ever tried detonating thyresium on a large scale, though. There could be unforeseen effects from exploding so much of it at once. Also, more crucially, the planet Cerinia is protected by a vast planetary defense network consisting of weaponized satellites and—allegedly—ground-based defenses that we don't have any details on. It's a very effective network—there's a reason why no one travels to Cerinia without their approval. If one of my ships tried to take the shot, that defense network would be a major problem."
Sifting his fingers through the fur on his muzzle, Fox spoke. Similar to Felix, he sounded unsure of himself—even more so, in fact. "What if we tried talking to the Cerinian Council? They definitely don't want to be overthrown. I know you said they don't like outsiders, but if we're all that's standing between them and being kicked out of office or being killed after the invasion, they might see things a bit differently. Hey, if it works out and we stop Asgard from taking the planet, they might even let you have access to some of those thyresium deposits."
Both Fox and Scarlet noticed the wheels turning in Felix's mind upon hearing this. "Let's be realistic—I don't see that happening, but at least they won't be in the hands of the largest shipbuilder in this system apart from the Ichtosian Drive Yards."
Felix's two guests mulled over the three suggestions. Fox spoke first. "There's one other thing that's bothering me here."
"Oh, what's that?" asked Felix.
"Neron's daughter told me that her father is a very principled man," Fox explained, "And unless he's changed or is really desperate, he wouldn't sell himself or his people out to a company like Asgard Industries. If that's true, then why would he let an offworld company take control of his planet's resources? Antoine Carache isn't a Cerinian, is he?"
Felix shook his head. "As far as anyone knows, he was born here on Skallis. He's an anomaly in the corporate world, though. He came from nothing, worked his way up the company ladder starting from the absolute bottom 30 years back before being appointed as CEO five years ago. The board didn't put him there because he was a nice guy. Your question is interesting, though: most of the Cerinian expats I've met went out of their way to not look like traditional Cerinians. I'll do some more digging on Carache and see if anything turns up. If it turns out that he actually does have Cerinian affiliations, that makes this predicament much more concerning."
Scarlet crossed her arms. "Another thing—Neron and Carache mentioned something about a 'Dr. Reige' when they were talking about the clone soldiers. Does that name ring a bell for you?"
Felix shook his head. "Not in the slightest. I suppose this would be a good time to see if a quick online search turns up anything. Successfully cloning a large group without major defects is a feat in and of itself—doing it with Cerinians is another thing entirely. They have some real mental quirks."
"No shit," Scarlet huffed.
While she and Fox sat in relative silence, Felix typed "Dr. Reige" into his internet search engine. Upon seeing the search results, he curled the corner of his mouth and commented, "Reige seems to be a fairly common last name on Ichtos. There are at least 10 "Dr. Reiges" that I'm seeing here. They all look like they're run-of-the-mill M.D.'s and dentists, though. Nowhere near the level of cloning Cerinians. I don't see any geneticists listed with that name. Living, at least."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Fox, raising one eyebrow slightly.
"The top search result is from the free online encyclopedia—Dr. Voltimure Reige. It says…" He clicked the link and took a few seconds to skim the summary. "…Voltimure Reige, an Ichtosian geneticist and prominent advocate of trans-therianism was a pioneering figure in the biomedical field during the days of the Ichtosian Federal Republic. Widely considered one of the greatest scientific minds of the past 200 years. Says here that he was born in 840 IE, died in 912 IE. So, he's been gone for 70 years. Call me crazy, but I don't think this is our guy. Also, yeesh…talk about a face that only a mother could love."
He rotated his computer monitor towards Fox and Scarlet, revealing a picture of an exceedingly short, elderly mole with a long, shriveled nose and glasses so thick that their depth was noticeable even in the picture. He wore a basic white lab coat, and his head barely reached the top of the counter next to him in the image.
Scarlet raised an eyebrow, while Fox looked at the picture of the diminutive geneticist with pity. "Well, at least he had a brain."
"He definitely had that going for him," Felix replied. "Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I don't necessarily need to act right this very minute, but I really do have to make a decision on what I'm going to do about this situation with Asgard. Right now, Fox, I'm hating your idea the least. There is one major problem with it, though: the Cerinian Council doesn't have any interstellar communication channels. You'd have to talk to them in person. And honestly, good luck with that. I don't even know how you'd get onto the planet in the first place, let alone talk to their leaders."
Scarlet shifted in her seat, visibly uncomfortable. Arms crossed, she lowered her voice and said, "Actually, I think I know a way."
Fox and Felix turned their full attention towards her.
She continued, "My stepmother used to be—and probably still is—friends with a Cerinian who actually has some kind of importance in their leadership structure. Unless things have changed, she can probably get you clearance to visit the planet." She halted and lowered her head slightly. "But if that's the route you want to take, you're going to have to call her yourself, because I won't be doing it."
Felix sighed and gave Scarlet a knowing, understanding look before turning his eyes to his other guest. "This is between you and her, Fox. If it works out and you find a way to get to Cerinia and set up some kind of meeting with their Council, let me know immediately, and I'll get a contract offer typed up for you. Until then, I'm going to think of more options and start gaming them out."
Fox nodded. "Thanks for having me."
"Not a problem," said Felix. "If you'd like, you can stay the night in one of my guest rooms. It's been a while since anyone has needed to use them."
Accepting the reality that he would not be returning to the Great Fox tonight, Fox forced a smile to his face and replied, "Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that."
With the meeting effectively over, Fox and Scarlet stood up from their seats and exited the office. Closing the door and leaving Felix with his own thoughts and schemes, Fox turned to face Scarlet and asked, "Do you honestly think your stepmother is going to give me the time of day if I call her asking for someone to get me into Cerinia?"
To his surprise, Scarlet nodded. "Yes. I…don't want to get into it right now, but yes, she probably will."
"You're not on good terms with her, are you?" Fox observed, lowering and softening his voice.
"No," Scarlet answered, almost with a whisper. "If you want to talk about it, we can do it in my room."
"Your room?"
"Oh, that's right," Scarlet replied, realizing she had omitted one important detail. "I live here."
"What?!"
"It's a long story, but yes, Felix lets me stay here when I'm not out on jobs. I told you we were close."
"You have an interesting relationship," Fox muttered.
"I owe him a lot," said Scarlet. "He genuinely cares for me, and I do what I can to let him know how much that means to me. Anyway, if you want to talk, follow me."
Fox sighed. "Not like I've got anything better to do."
- § -
Ten months ago…
Cutting through the dense overcast cloud cover, the gray Asgard transport ship descended towards a dense temperate forest on Zharon—one of Skallis's three moons and the only one capable of supporting sentient life. Trees stretched as far as the eye could see, with no signs of civilization to be found. However, the ground directly beneath the transport featured a large outcropping of stone ruins from a long-lost colony. The reason for that civilization no longer existing had something to do with why nothing had ever arisen to take its place.
The ship touched down in the middle of a stone courtyard surrounded by crumbling pillars and arches, and its pilot powered down the craft's engines. The vessel's side door opened, and Neron Taero climbed out. The Cerinian set foot on the stony ground and looked around with both his natural eye and his uncanny artificial replacement lens.
This place brought back memories—most of them unpleasant. Just a year ago, he had fled to this very spot to escape an enterprising bounty hunting vixen who had somehow figured out a way to subvert his strong telepathy. Ultimately, it failed. In spite of his efforts and his attempt at escaping by hiding in a government-sanctioned exclusion zone, she tracked him down and killed him.
The story did not end for him there, however. In this very spot, the one uncorrupted living individual in the Aparoid Exclusion Zone found his body and took it upon himself to reconstruct him, bringing him back from beyond the grave. It was this particular individual whom Neron intended to meet with.
The Cerinian walked towards a sizable, collapsed white stone structure, then descended a hidden flight of stairs and turned right at the base. A secondary set of steps opened up in front of him, seemingly ending in a wall. But Neron knew better. Reaching out his hand, he pressed a small, slightly mismatched stone into the wall ahead of him. Nothing seemed to happen, but nonetheless, he crossed his arms and stared at the wall ahead of him. Seconds later, the wall slid open to the right, revealing a towering lupine figure.
The wolf-like creature stood seven feet tall, dwarfing Neron even though he was considered tall for one of his people. Long, sharp claws jutted out from his black-furred fingers. His light gray fur contrasted subtly with his long, white lab coat and his black-furred, exposed feet, which featured the same claws as the ones on his hands. In spite of his lab coat's body-obscuring properties and his sheer height making him look more slender than he actually was, the wolf's muscular physique was impossible not to notice. A pair of small, rounded spectacles sat atop the bridge of his nose in front of his piercing, mint green eyes. However, the lenses were so thin that it caused Neron to suspect that the glasses were an aesthetic choice instead of being a necessity.
However, something about the creature's comically harsh, aggressive appearance felt 'off,' as if it was a mere facade and that the soul behind it reflected none of his body's properties.
Seeing Neron, the wolf cracked a subtle, warm smile, and spoke in a reedy voice with an outdated accent. "Hello again, my esteemed friend! What brings you back here? Did the lack of flesh-eating mechanical insects on Skallis cause you to become depressed, as if life was not worth living without the occasional life or death battle for survival?"
Neron smiled back. "No. I've come to ask for help with something."
The wolf's expression changed to reflect subtle concern. "And what would that 'something' be, pray tell?"
"Do you remember, after you brought me back, that I told you I had a vision about reforming Cerinia's leadership and opening the planet up to outside influences, and vice versa?"
The wolf nodded. "Yes, indeed—your superstitions are and were singularly entertaining."
Neron detected the sarcasm in his friend's voice and let out a slight chuckle. "Well, I was serious about it then, and I'm serious about it now. And since I know how fascinated you are with my people, I felt that you might be interested in what I'd like to propose."
The wolf's pointy gray ears poked up. "What is your proposition, friend?"
Neron crossed his arms, hinting at uncertainty. "I have a major business partner who's on board with my idea for Cerinia and is willing to help me. But as you know, my people are not the most accepting of outsiders. I've been trying to get my message to my people to 'fertilize the ground,' as it were; but the Council has stepped up their censorship of outside media in a major way, and it doesn't seem like it's getting through. I know that many of my people agree with me, though. They want the current Council removed."
The wolf stared back at him and cocked his head. "What do I have to do with this?"
"The Council is as weak as it's ever been and might be overthrown eventually, but they also might entrench themselves for generations to come in spite of their unpopularity. I think my best option to remove them is with direct military force. My business partner is willing to offer it, but an attack by 'outsiders' would not be received well."
"I would appreciate it if you simply cut to the chase, friend," said the wolf. "If I don't like your proposition, it is what it is."
Neron exhaled, then collected himself for a second. He looked into the towering wolf's eyes, then said, "I need an army of Cerinians. It's never going to happen naturally, and no other army will work. But I know the kind of technology and know-how you have. If you'd be willing to hand over your knowledge of cloning and synthetic biology to my business partner, I might stand a chance at overthrowing the Council.
Traces of anger flashed across the lupine's face. His ears rotated backwards, and his nostrils flared ever so slightly. "I should have you know, I set up my base of operations here because I am damned well cognizant of what my knowledge could do if placed in the wrong hands. I reside in one of the most dangerous locations in the Ichtosian System because I do not wish to be cajoled, threatened, or blackmailed into offering my knowledge up to those who would misuse it. Who is this 'business partner' of yours, anyway?"
"The CEO of Asgard Industries on Skallis," Neron replied, trying his best to push down any uncertainty his voice threatened to hint at. "Lest you think that this is purely for profit, he's also a Cerinian, and he supports my goals for personal reasons. He just happens to have the resources and facilities to make this a reality. We simply need the knowledge and expertise you have to make it happen."
The wolf still gave off an aura of disdain. "What's in this for me?"
"That's up for negotiation. This is very important to both me and my partner, and we would be willing to offer you some very appealing compensation options."
The wolf crossed his arms and stared condescendingly at Neron. "A faster-than-light-capable spacecraft with comfortable accommodations would be a start. And of course, I would like the opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time on Cerinia. You know how fascinated I am with your people."
"The second one is a given if our plan succeeds," said Neron. We can probably make the first request a reality, too. Look—I understand your concerns, my friend. I had them as well at first. But I can assure you that I trust Mr. Carache's motives. Our goals are one and the same."
The tall lupine looked past Neron at the clouds in the distance, pausing for thought for nearly half a minute. He shifted his eyes back to Neron. "Assuming you can provide me with the compensation that I seek, I am willing to assist you under one condition: that the equipment used to create a synthesized clone army be used solely under my personal discretion."
Neron cringed. "I don't think that's going to work. The scale we need for this is too great for one person to oversee. I understand where you're coming from—you don't want your knowledge being replicated—but I don't think that's workable here."
"Then your whole scheme is unworkable," the wolf retorted.
"Consider this, though," Neron pleaded, "If you're concerned about your knowledge being used in the future to create automaton armies or expendable slaves, I assume it's much less expensive to build drones to accomplish the same thing?"
"Correct," said the wolf. There is a reason my experiments have been limited to small numbers."
Sensing an opening, Neron pressed his point. "Then I don't think you have much to worry about. What you can do with biological synthesis is incredible, but it's impractical for the most nefarious cases that you're afraid of. In fact, your knowledge would probably be used in a very positive way in the medical field. It would save countless lives. Life expectancy would go through the roof. Isn't this what you've always been about?"
The wolf hung his head. "Yes, but the longer I've lived, the more I've come to comprehend the capacity for abuse, greed, and illogical self-seeking from people in general—most of all from those whom you would never expect. My knowledge and my technologies would become a plaything of the extravagantly wealthy who wish to preserve their power and influence, using it to create societal fortifications around themselves while the common individual receives nothing save for the further erasure of their value from society."
Neron stoically looked at his friend, understanding his concerns but not allowing himself to be deterred. "I will not allow that to happen."
"By what power?" the wolf fired back.
The Cerinian hesitated, but not because he lacked the answer. After a momentary pause, he spoke. "The capture of Cerinia will put the largest known supply of thyresium directly into the hands of me and my people. With near-complete control over the mineral, every planet in the next three systems would have to honor our wishes to be able to keep their existing lightdrive routes functional. As much as the current Council falls short, their stable and moral governance is something no other planetary government has managed to achieve. We had the same government before most other planets had space travel."
The wolf raised an eyebrow. "And you want to overthrow it?"
"Only the current leaders—not the system itself. I simply want to change the way Cerinia interacts with the planets around it. The current Council's isolationist policy is unsustainable, and my goal is to abolish it before it becomes a threat to our continued peace and independence."
The giant leaned against the opening of the door, his tense posture slackening somewhat. In a quieter voice than before, he asked, "If I still say no, what will happen?"
"I know I've talked about my people and my planet with you at length in the past," Neron replied, "Right now, the Council has a policy that has locked our level of technological progression in place. For generations, we've had superior technology and weaponry compared to the surrounding planets, but the gap is closing rapidly. In terms of military capability, I dare say they're evenly matched at this point. We have no shipbuilding program. We have no weapons creation devices. We only have the ability to repair and service existing equipment. Without a regime change, our military capability will be eclipsed, and the possibility of oppression from other factions will become a very real possibility. As a Cerinian, I can't stress enough how terrified this possibility makes us. We have never been subjugated by anyone in our entire existence as a people. But the Council leaders are burying their heads in the sand pretending that there isn't a hurricane coming. Honestly, I…no, we need your help. I know how interested you are in my people. Here's your chance to make something of it and ensure our continued existence."
The wolf paused for thought and scratched his muzzle. "You know, potentially being responsible for saving an ancient civilization from annihilation at the hands of their aggressive neighbors does sound quite appealing. I do think I'll consider it more in the coming days. Understand that I cannot give you a simple yes or no answer at the moment—such weighty decisions are best not to make in haste. But as it stands, I am more in favor of 'yes' than I am of 'no.'"
A wave of relief washed over Neron. "Thank you for at least considering it. I know parts of it make you uncomfortable. I understand where you're coming from with your concerns."
"I appreciate that, friend," said the wolf. "Say, since you went through the effort of traveling to this godsforsaken place, would you prefer to come inside? The surroundings haven't changed significantly since you were last here, but it's pleasant enough. Besides, I found something that I think you may be interested in."
Neron's ears pointed forward. "Show me."
"Without hesitation!" said the wolf, turning around and walking into the darkened hallway behind the door. The instant Neron crossed the threshold, it slid closed behind him. With no light coming from outside, the only illumination came from a series of white LED tubes attached to the stone tunnel walls. After a turn to the left and a gentle slope downwards, the tunnel ended in a small-medium room modeled after a combined kitchen and living room. A small, rough wood table stood between the wooden kitchen countertop and an antiquated refrigerator. The table only offered two chairs—unsurprising since the overly-tall wolf rarely had guests.
The living room area "featured" an old, worn couch, a coffee table built similarly to the one in the kitchen, a large flatscreen display mounted to the right stone wall, and an array of display shelves that lined both the rear and right wall. A variety of sculptures and trinkets sat atop the shelves, but on the top shelf on the back wall, Neron spotted one particular item that nearly made his heart stop beating.
The item in question looked like a jagged, dark crystal, roughly the size of a fairground watermelon. It pulsed with a deep, electric blue light that emanated from its center—from a mysterious glyphic symbol that the wolf could not comprehend…but Neron could. He noticed a low voltage power cable plugged into the back of the crystal, which struck him as strange; but ultimately not as bizarre as a glowing rock with an inscrutable symbol on it.
Turning to the wolf, Neron pointed at the crystal and demanded, "Where did you get that?"
The towering lupine took a step toward him and smiled. "It was certainly an undertaking. Fancy a story?"
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Thanks to Nail Strafer for coming up with the name thyresium!
