Episode 55- Where more insider info is swapped.
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Somewhere on the fringes of the human presence in Koprulu sector, in a secluded star system, protected against zerg and hijacking protoss spying eyes, laid a beautifully swampy planet. In the region of mostly flat plains, there laid the capital of the colony named Po'Midor. It was not only the capital city, but also the only city on the small planet. In the most urbanized area lay a mostly square building with smoothed corners a street down from the local marketplace. But sightseeing is for another time, with someone beside himself, mused Dobromir.
Somewhere around 50 years ago a desperate sociologist arrived, who couldn't find any willing participants for his experiment. It wasn't anything sinister, or evil, or stupid, or disturbing, oh no it was something much worse. It was the earthquake that would shake any rigid structure of governance and power. Dobromir's grandfather didn't hesitate for a second to agree, with a great enthusiasm if the records were to be believed.
Every month, there would be a group meeting between people, separated by decades. On different days, there was a meeting of kids from the age of 'they start creating coherent sentences' to 10. Then from 10 to 20. From 20 to 30 and so on, until there was more than one person of that particular scope. Currently there are groups extending to 110 years old. Further away there were just simple cases of people older than that.
Person would spend half of the last year in one group, and then go to the next. Leaders could only be chosen among the ones who didn't belong to that group. The kid's group was supported by a few adults that were pointed out as 'trustworthy' by the kids themselves. Dobromir was inside the building at the time, sitting in the first row. The rally itself was the essence of the experiment.
It wasn't just a group of people of predetermined age meeting together to socialise, those groups gathered to influence the government itself. Their decisions weren't just 'taken into consideration'. If a matter was thoroughly talked over and more than 50% of members voted positively, the Mayor didn't have anything to say but to apply the rules into life.
Of course, to prevent mistakes and petty vengeance, every matter had to be backed very strongly by evidence and reasons! But to the mayor went only the matters concerning the whole colony. If there was something to settle between themselves, those people did it. Suffice to say, the experiment of the sociologist was forged into an actual method of governance, even if only in this colony.
Dobromir was thrown back into reality when rattles started echoing through the enclosed amphitheatre. "Her ye! hear ye! Pay respect towards Grandmaster Bigwig, our illustrious leader!" And from behind the curtain, towards the podium walked out a twelve year old boy, on a literal platform clogs that made him 30% taller. And on his head, true to the title, rests an oversized and very pompous wig, like the ones worn by officials from ages past, example: a Governor from Pirates of Carribean.
After ten series, Mina exhausted herself completely. Feeling very faint, she sat on the ground, hard, and then barely managed to lay on her back before she was whisked away into the land of unconsciousness.
Last of the stars fell, but the sky remained dark. Ghosts were all taken care of. Everyone was safe, well relatively speaking. The shield protecting collapsed Mina was flashing red, and let's not forget the ever annoying Wraith which attacked again. The deck actually splintered in many places, and one of the rotors was blown sky high. The shield let out a last flash of colour before fading away, leaving Mina vulnerable.
In normal situations, they would be sitting ducks by this point, unable to hit the overpowered Wraith with anything accurately. Thankfully for the group of friends, Jaruga overcame the usual, and despite throwing the previous route away, became simply… better.
The boat touched the ground softly after a few seconds (at last), the gravitation field automatically disabling. Jaruga jumped on the ship, went to the prow and crouched down, knees wide and hands touching the ground. If she had a tail it would be swaying to and fro but alas…
When the Wraith came on its overpowered engine for the very last time, Jaruga tensed up, judged the distance and… Jumped! Of course, the distance would be too great for a typical jump but Jaruga… did a pretty standart one all things considered. But that was just the start! With but a quick and simple thought, two circles formed in the air close to her waist, glimmering like a silvery moon. Those circles quickly started generating a white flame that boosted our Heroine forward and upward!
The pilot didn't have much time to stare before the red/orange and silvery figure smashed through the reinforced glass covering her cockpit. She couldn't see what the pilot was staring at through the helmet, but she could guess, based on her state of undress. Flame of life didn't spare no inanimate equipment, oh no. At last she had feathers covering her in strategic places. That was all the pilot had time to notice before Jaruga bounced their head against the walls a few times, just to be sure.
With the uncontrolled Wraith falling rapidly towards the ground, Jaruga took her spoils of battle and jumped away just before the flying vehicle impacted the ground and exploded scattering its parts everywhere.
"After the aeon of strife ended, the Protoss formed the three casts: The Judicator cast, rulers, leaders, law creators and faith enforcers. They also appoint those who sit on the Conclave, basically the leaders. The templars, holy warriors who protect everyone and enforce the law. Lastly, Khalai the worker's caste. Everyone that isn't part of the two first ones is lumped together, including me."
The shroomman talking for her was now jumping and extending his arms & legs, before bringing them together, almost clapping. The flying newbie was on the ground, heaving and trying not to throw up. Spinning rapidly wasn't one of his brightest ideas. The fact that he didn't even have any acid in his stomach for now helped him immensely.
"First tribes, then caste system? Let me ask you a very important thing, what about art? Or just recreation?"
"We don't spend the same time as humans do. The most you will see among Protos would be some murals to enhance the flavor of history. The only rest Protoss experience is during our sleep, or meditation."
"Oh. WOW. Protoss are advanced only when it comes to technology, aren't they?" Zimowit put a hand on the mask, doing a protected facepalm. "My, my, If this is how it is… I pity you, my dear friend Vella Glan. The only thing making them special are the apex genes, psionic capability and technology. If not for the last one being so advanced, calling Protoss backwater society would be generous. I am right to assume you don't have much of a culture either right?"
If it was any other protoss, they probably would get angry. Put Vella, poor female Protoss, barely part of society and shunned on many occasions, was glad. Glad that someone was poking big holes in the image of how 'perfect' and 'great' her people were. And the biggest thing that was about to happen? She had to use her shroomy link to see into his mind, and discover what he meant by 'culture'. Saying that her mind was blown away by the sheer volume would be like saying that a desert is a little lacking in the moisture departament.
Grandmaster Bigwig walked over to the middle of the podium, and sat upon the throne with very big cushions. His two attendants dragged a big bean bag chair over, and collapsed on them. Seems that the throne itself was a prominent feature, used by the gatherings of all ages, not only this one.
"First thing first!" Shouted twelve year old grandmaster, thrusting his finger in the air. "You!" He then pointed aforementioned at Dobromir. "Spectators seat was granted to you based on your past contributions, but remember the rules! You can only offer some loose ideas, and not too often! If you talk too much, or about meaningless matters, you will be thrown out, like the last time!"
Thankfully for himself, Dobromir just wanted to know what 'squeaks in the grass', as it were. But when he wanted to convene this, Bigwig shushed him instantly "Shhh! Save your small allowance of words for something else."
He beckoned with his hand to the older girl on his left, who gave him the pad with brief notes. As he was reading them over, the rest of the assembly waited. The Very Important Person on the big chair didn't need any sound amplifier, his powerful voice carried throughout the whole atrium. Let's not forget that the big conference room was constructed in the oldest, and best way imaginable. Meaning, half circle with seats coming from bottom to top.
But best to remember, the whole group consisted of ages from 10 to 20. No one was bored, because almost everyone was doing something else. Be it playing on tablets, quietly chatting, drawing, painting or even wood carving (that was a singular case). Bigwig wasn't angry or frustrated, because he understood perfectly. What's more, he could be certain that everyone was at last listening with one ear.
"Alright! First order of business, we have a new member joining our assembly. Because her age was hard to ascertain, she was lumped with us. Wave your hand, Nahida."
The little girl, who could be considered a 10 years old, if someone took off their glasses, stood up from the mostly empty first row, turned towards the rest and did just that. She noted that THEY noted her down with quick glances, then returned to doing her thing.
Grandmaster lowered his voice from stage level, to normal conversation and spoke to her directly. "For now, listen, get the feel for the whole thing. If you have some ideas to share, please do so."
After that, he raised his voice back up. "Now with the introduction over, we'll go over as always, step by step. Raise your voice if you have some information to add on our current front!"
Jaruga was listening with one ear to the talk going between defeated Mengsk and Admiral Dugall. The situation was serious, at last when it came to her boat. The internal parts remained mostly unaffected, like the batteries, gravity field generator, and the weak shield creator. But the upper deck? There were splinters almost everywhere, and broken planks sticking out in some places. One of the rotors was busted, but reaching the cosmos from the planet surface was still manageable.
Her furry companion was constantly switching her attention between her misty form, and the new third tail from achieving that. Her pilot was still lying unconscious, on the part of the ship without splinters. Solar sail remained unscathed, but the mast it was attached to would probably crumble soon. Her WHOLE equipment was gone. Magic bow excluded, of course. All her weapons and clothing were junk at this point. Of course, the clothing she wore into the battle was completely vaporized, and the weapons melted into a puddle. If not for the new, natural protection she wouldn't have anything to cover herself with.
After some polite threats of bodily harm/death, a new voice bringed Jaruga's attention back to the speak channel. "You'll have to postpone those plans, gentlemen." Raynor, what a surprise to hear him there.
"What?! Who are those intruders!" Hearing the Admiral's angry voice, she looked into the distance, where the battlecruisers faced each other. There also was the golden gleam of protoss ships. It wasn't weird that they were with Raynor, but what the man in question was doing in this airspace?
"Jim Raynor, what the hell are you doing here?!"
"I'm pulling your ass out've the fire, so shut up and sit tight. Make no mistake about it, we've got a serious score to settle. But right now, a mutual acquaintance of ours wants you alive. Prepare your ships for dimensional recall."
And then Dugalle began shouting angrily as the ships vanished with a brief blue flash of light. Jaruga, on the other hand, already shut them off and contacted the Vice-Admiral immediately.
"Situation is rather tense, so what is it?" After a few seconds of staring, Stikov leaned a little closer to the screen. "Are those… feathers?"
Jaruga huffed, and threw a part of her 'hairs' forward. After the unexpected rebirth, the scales all over her body vanished completely. Now, she had silvery feathers covering her most strategic places, together with some sporadic number of them on arms. Her hair changed to all feathers, which still somehow resembles the actual hairstyle. The color of the ones at the top of her head changed to red and orange, somewhat reminiscent of bacon.
"All of the ghosts were dealt with. But! We encountered some heavy opposition, and now my boat is in shambles. As you can't see, even clothing was brutally taken down. I'll patch my ship on one of the battlecruisers, and then go to my home for a new, fully functional one."
"A… alright. You did a great job, and we won't need you in our nearest mission. Now if you excuse me, my friend, I have an angry Admiral to deal with." Jaruga saw in his eyes the need to ask questions, but due to the lack of time the man probably just chalked it to psionic/magic something and called it a day.
Even if all of that was justified and reasonable, Jaruga had to do it for one specific purpose. To avoid fighting with Jimmy and his protoss chums. It would be a bad idea to hurt your friend and loosely potential allies. And her boat really was unsuitable for a battlefield. But she already informed Stetmann earlier of the demand, so something nice should wait for her in her home colony.
'My dear friend Artanis, I fell off sitting on my laurels. So I decided to aid Fenix and Raynor in their endeavors. I hope you won't mind me taking a young Khalai girl with me as a guide. With best wishes, Ziemowit.'
That was the message left for Their friend, there was even a chance Artanis would read it. There's not a doubt about Our friend, just Karax seemed like a busy protoss. But that was okay, the message would reach Artanis only after the man in question started to inquire about his whereabouts.
Right, Ziemowit, Vella and the two unnamed shroommen will go to help the boys… later. But right now? Vella was able to acquire a small civilian ship which would fit up to four passengers. Apparently protoss usually didn't have a problem with limited space… Wit, to be on a safer side, just chalked it up as magic.
Rather conveniently, there was a tiny outpost somewhere in the system where Mar Sara was located. Apparently, after purging the whole planet, protoss were compelled to keep a close eye in case of zerg activity. Of course, now it didn't matter completely and past was the past.
There was just one pylon, and a kind of modified gate. It wasn't the usual one for summoning troops, but more like a mini version of the Stargate. It fitted their flat, streamlined arrowhead like ship just fine, but an Arbiter would probably be too big for it.
Anyway, it was time to visit home and acquire a lot of study material. That's right, Vella would study culturology, and what culture even was.
Somewhat expectedly, the unconscious ghosts already vanished by the time Jaruga came back to the base. Welp, she did all that she could for them. But the charred 'corpse' was left alone. Simply splendid! And now, she had to hurry up so he wouldn't die mid way. First and foremost, plucking three feathers each of different colors and kind of fusing it with his being. From now on the ghost would have a permanent 'decoration' attached to look like feathers tucked behind one's ear.
She did the same for her friends, before they went their separate ways once again for a short while. Seems that the Vice Admiral arranged a space for them in a cargo ship which would go to the Po'midor. After some changes in plans and schedule, the cargo ship would go with them in two days.
Most importantly? She got some new clothes of questionable quality. The pants going to her knees and a simple t-shirt that revealed a small part of stomach didn't look bad, per se, but she could rough material. It left an unpleasant sensation on her sensitive skin. Jaruga could make herself another hazard-environment suit, but she had enough of the thigh, confining clothing that made her extra sweaty all the time.
Now, the 'charred one' would be going with her, and the annoying pilot will be given a little something to keep him 'on her radar'. Additionally some personal info to be on the safe side and… That's it. She lost her primary source of entertainment, so it would be a time to explore what UED had to offer.
At this point, crafting any other equipment or weapons would be pointless. Military grade doesn't mean great, but just good enough. Jaruga wouldn't settle for 'good enough'.