5 Days Later
– Watedia, Beauth 31, 8034 –
“…and
that’s when we all managed to board the shuttle and left.”
“I
see,” Commander Nikéyin nodded. She then sat back for a moment to mull over the
information Hero Machina had just relayed to her – the beginning of the raid on
Kotak, the revelation of an AI, Davídrius going berserk, the finding of the
Ayas Aldrace, the loss of the Ayas Hastryth, and the attack from the infected
beast. She then sighed wearily. “I’m… not sure whether to class this mission as
a success or a failure. On one hand,” she turned to stare down Davídrius, “you
went berserk, and directly caused us to lose an Ayas. …On the other hand, you
retrieved another Ayas in its place, and recovered what appears to be fully-functional
AI, which could be invaluable.”
“In
Davídrius’s defense, he was using a
Dark Ayas,” Kievkenalis responded, “I know no one wants to believe me, but the
Dark and Light Ayas really do exert an influence over their users.”
“Look,
I appreciate you stickin’ up for me, but don’t act like I’m not at fault for my
own actions,” Davídrius scowled, “I know I fucked up, and I’ll own up to it. I
won’t use some ‘influence’ as an excuse.”
“No,
the Captain… the Captain’s right,” Nikéyin sighed again, “Archoné Culana
agrees, and the RPF has some research data from the Citans, who claim that the
Ayas do seem to have side-effects on the user. This doesn’t fully excuse you, Davídrius, but… I can
at least understand why what happened, happened.”
“Of
course he gets off…” Kevérin grumbled, his voice low enough for only him to
hear.
“That
said,” the Commander continued, “This means that we’ve lost an Ayas to the
metallic infection. I don’t know if we can treat it as passive anymore, if an
infected creature can seize an Ayas and incorporate it into its being. Kotak
may be a lost cause, but we must find a way to retrieve the Ayas we lost before
someone… or something else does.”
“’Thing’?”
Davídrius snorted, “Really?”
“You’d
do well to keep your mouth shut, Lieutenant,” Nikéyin replied; the Introtechnic
immediately quieted. “Luckily, on the topic of locating Ayas, our researchers
have created a useful device based off of the Master Ayas. It’s a Chaos Ayas
Sensor.”
“Well
that sounds pretty convenient,” Christeané remarked.
“A
sensor? How’s it work?” Kievkenalis leaned in, his curiosity piqued.
“You’d
have to ask the ones who created it – I’m not technologically versed enough to
explain it myself,” Nikéyin stated, “According to them, it can locate an Ayas
anywhere in the galaxy, but it can only search relatively small areas at a time
– and slowly, at that. So for it to be truly effective, we need to try our best
to find the general location of the rest of the Ayas.”
“How
are we supposed to do that?” Kevérin questioned, “Of all the Ayas that we’ve
found, we didn’t know that any of them were present until we were on the same
planet.”
“Hopefully,
that AI you brought back can help there. By your account, it seems to know its
share about the Ayas.”
“Then…
what do we do in the meantime?”
“Continue
what you have been doing. Look for leads on the metallic infection, and if the
Black Suns finally consent, investigate Rossindon for clues about the cause of
the Chaos Quake. There’s really not much else for us to do now.”
“So… we’re
staying together, then?...” Kaoné questioned uneasily.
“Hmm?
You mean as Hero Machina?” Nikéyin leaned back and crossed her arms, pausing
for just long enough to sigh again. “I admit, my decision in this regard has
not been easy. For now, yes, you will remain as a group and operating under my
command. But, I’m warning you – if your performance doesn’t improve soon, I will dissolve the squad.”
“…Understood,”
Kevérin replied, answering for the whole team.
“I do
have one more question before I allow you all to leave,” the Commander
commented, and then turned to Davídrius. “You didn’t mention this during your
brief explanation a few minutes ago, but the Transfer Captain mentioned it in
the mission report; apparently, when you were fighting the Black Suns soldiers
just outside the caves, you stabbed one of them, causing them to ‘disappear in
a cloud of blue mist’. Care to enlighten me as to what you did?”
“Uh.”
The Introtechnic blinked twice, “…no idea. I, uh… that whole encounter is kind
of a blur…”
“It could
be something related to the Ayas Weapon,” Kievkenalis suggested, “It might be
worth asking Pallan about.”
“Maybe
that AI has answers, too,” Siyuakén added.
“Speaking
of Culana, he’ll be on base for the next few days. If you see him, be sure to
pay him the proper respect due to an Archoné,” Nikéyin ordered, and then stood
up, prompting Hero Machina to follow suit. “I will speak further with each of
you individually later. For now, though, you’re dismissed.”
Each
member of Hero Machina saluted the Commander before turning toward the briefing
room exit and leaving. Nikéyin remained at the head of the table, placing her
hands on the surface and taking a deep breath, allowing her head to hang
momentarily. She then looked back to the room’s entrance. “You can come in now,
Archoné.”
A
moment later the Archoné of Riverana strode into the room, gracefully closing
the door behind him. He then turned to Nikéyin and bowed his head politely.
“Nice to see you, Commander.”
“The
feeling’s mutual, Archoné Culana,” Nikéyin returned the gesture.
“Commander,
Commander… how many times have I told you? You may refer to me by my first
name, Pallan.”
“Respectfully,
sir, you are the Riveranian Archoné.
I don’t feel comfortable doing as much.”
Culana
shook his head amusedly before taking a seat next to Nikéyin, prompting the
Commander to sit down as well. “All of you military types are like that,” he
smirked, “I’m glad that at least Rantéin will oblige this old man.”
“He’s
known you for far longer than I have, sir,” Nikéyin replied, “I’m sure he’s
earned the right.”
“Earned
the right? You act as though first names have some sort of ancient power. I
assure you, Commander, that is not the case. And I’m sure that means a lot
coming from me, ahahah.”
Nikéyin
smiled briefly before returning to a neutral expression. “Is there something
you wished to speak to me about?”
“Ah, to
the core of the matter,” Culana clasped his hands together and rested his
elbows on the table. “It’s about Hero Machina.”
“Archoné…”
“I
realize that their performance has not been optimal for a group with their
clout, but you must not give up on them.”
“On
what grounds, Culana? If their failures to date had been due to circumstances
they couldn’t help, then I would agree. But that isn’t the case. Sunova may
have been out of their hands, but the end results of the Teghica and Kotak
missions are due directly to the
group’s inability to control themselves, trust each other, and work together
reliably. If you weren’t championing them I’d have disbanded them two hours
ago.”
“They
are the Quakeborn of Nimalia, Commander! They are not Keys, but the Oraculm does mention them, if only off-hand.
They are somehow important to the galactic condition. You must give them
another chance!”
“I
barely understand anything you just said. And you know your Oraculm doesn’t
hold much sway over the rest of Nimalia. It hasn’t even made any predictions
since the Chaos Quake!”
“And
that is where you are wrong. The Oraculm makes many predictions; it is up to
the Archoné to interpret and filter said predictions and act on them in the
most optimal fashion, in accordance with the Universe and Ayas Key prophecies.
Sometimes the optimal action is to simply not reveal anything at all, as the
act of revelation can change the very future that you are revealing.”
“And
you think that keeping Hero Machina together will help with these… prophecies.”
“It is
the same reason I implored you to gather the Quake-born in the first place.”
“Culana…”
“You
must give them another chance.”
“This
isn’t just about giving them a chance anymore, Culana. You know the recent
anti-NSD movement in the Nimaliakian and Tekdecénian governments? Part of that
is due to Hero Machina’s failings. A very small part, granted, but a part
nonetheless, a part that will undeniably grow if they continue to underperform.
We’re to the point where they’re beginning to undermine the viability of the
NSD as a potential organization. We can’t afford this!”
“Reluctantly,
I will agree with you there. Coming events mandate a united response–“
“Coming
events? What coming events?”
“–Which
is why I urge you, Commander: offer the Quakeborn one last opportunity. I will
no longer bother you after that. But, I implore you – give them one last
chance.”
Nikéyin
took a deep, long breath and sat back in her chair wearily. “…And you won’t
even explain exactly why you want me
to do this?” she finally responded.
“I’m
sorry, Commander,” Culana bowed his head apologetically, “As Keeper of the
Oraculm, I cannot reveal too much, not at this point in time. For now, all I
can say is that the galaxy may well be worse off without the Quakeborn working
together.”
“…If
there’s one thing you’re truly good at, its persistence.” Nikéyin sighed again.
“Very well… I wasn’t going to break them up just yet, but I’ll at least give
them one last chance at a proper mission, if only because you’ve already
pledged so much to the NSD.”
“Thank
you, Commander.”
“I
don’t know what you hope to happen, though. If the previous mission report is
anything to go by, they’re starting to fragment on their own.”
“I
believe you underestimate them,” Culana countered, standing up and preparing to
leave, “I admit, it is very possible that I am wrong, and that they are not as
important as I believe them to be. But I also believe that they deserve a
chance, and I am glad that you are giving them that chance. They are but twenty-somethings, after all.
I’m sure they will get over themselves.”
“Mm, I
don’t know,” Nikéyin responded uneasily, standing up herself, “I may have
agreed to give them a second chance, but I can’t say I’m optimistic about the
results…”
* * *
“I’m…
sorry.”
“…What.”
Kevérin froze, and then turned to face Davídrius straight-on. “…Say again?”
“I said
I’m… I’m sorry,” the Introtechnic rubbed his neck and glanced away uneasily.
“I’ve been thinkin’, and, well, I realize that I’ve been… uh, a little hard to
work with…”
“That’s
putting it lightly,” Kevérin snorted.
“Don’t
push it,” Davídrius scowled, “It was hard enough to convince myself to come
over here and apologize.”
“Some
apology.”
The
Introtechnic held a hand to his forehead in frustration as he took a deep
breath. “…Look, I’m… trying to
apologize to you. I haven’t apologized to, well… to anyone. Don’t make this
hard.”
“And
why should I just suddenly accept this apology when you’ve done nothing but act
like a prick for the past two months?”
“…I thought you had the capacity to not be a
douchebag, but I guess not, huh. Fuck this, forget I said anything–“
“No,
no, wait…” Kevérin held a hand out and sighed apprehensively. “…You’re right. Neither of us have been too nice to each
other.”
Davídrius
stepped back and crossed his arms expectantly. “Finally had a change of heart?”
“Now
don’t you make this difficult, too,”
the Pyrotechnic scowled, “I won’t be your friend right away, but I can let
bygones be bygones. And I am at fault
for some things. …In fact…” he glanced away uneasily, “…I may… have said some things that I really shouldn’t have, back when
I was looking for the Ayas on Kotak with Siyuakén and Kaoné. For that, I
apologize. I, uh, let my anger get the best of me.”
“Huh?
What’d you say to them? What’s it got to do with me?””
“…It’s
not important. It’s best we both just forget about it.”
“…Uh
huh,” Davídrius deadpanned.
“That
said…” Kevérin replied, “If you’re willing to at least try and listen to me more, I’ll try my best to, uh, to be less of
a…”
“Less
of a prick?”
“Sure.
But it goes both ways,” Kevérin held out his hand, “This needs effort from both
of us. Are you in?”
“…Heh,”
Davídrius grasped Kevérin’s hand and shook it, “Well, you did only say ‘try’. I think I can manage that.”
“Don’t
try pulling any bullshit, now,” the Pyrotechnic retorted, and then turned back
to the computer console in front of him.
“Now
that the touchy-feely shit is over with,” Davídrius stretched and then moved
behind Kevérin to stare down at the screen, “What’re you doin’?”
“I’m
trying to interface with the Kotak AI,” the Pyrotechnic replied without looking
up, “Back on Kotak, it was able to talk to us because it was wired into the
base’s PA system. If I can hook it into a mic and speaker system here then we
should be able to talk to it, just like we did back then.”
“Why
not just ‘talk’ with it through text?”
“Because
the step from text to audio is technologically trivial – assuming the
text-to-audio processing is built into the AI core – and audio is a lot easier
for us, as Nimalians, to work with,” Kevérin replied, “The hard part is
actually interfacing with the core in the first place.”
“Oh.
Well tell me when you’re done, then. Talkin’ to it could be interesting; I want
to find out more about this ‘Quakeborn’ shit.”
“Hah, well, you’re in luck. I just
managed to hook everything up.”
“Wait,
what?” Davídrius stared at the Pyrotechnic, dumbfounded. “I thought you said
this was the hard part.”
“Sure,
but I’ve been working on it ever since we left Kotak,” Kevérin smirked,
“Cruisers have computers, you know. Catching a glimpse of how the SFC did it
helped, too. Not to mention my Tekdecénian background.”
“Oh,
brag about it, why don’t ya.”
“Uh…
sorry?”
“Just
watch yourself,” Davídrius responded flatly before turning his attention back
to the computer console. “So, how do we talk to it? Can it hear us?”
“I can indeed.”
“…It
sounds so… tiny,” the Introtechnic commented.
“That is the inevitable result when I am
attached to two off-board speakers instead of a base-wide PA system, yes.”
“Sounds
like you’re in good shape,” Kevérin remarked.
“Quite the opposite. My core has been
damaged. Did I not warn you to be careful?”
“Hey,
we were attacked,” Davídrius countered, “We were caught by surprise. You’re
lucky we didn’t have to leave you behind!”
“I suppose I will have to trust your
judgment. I was not capable of observing anything once I was disengaged from
the base’s computer system. On this subject, is it not possible to wire me into
this base’s system? Currently I have no visual to associate to this audio
signal, and the terminal you have connected me to is isolated and offers very
little in the way of information, aside from how your computer systems work.”
“That’s
on purpose,” Kevérin replied, “You can’t blame me for being careful. You may
have helped us out back on Kotak, but we don’t know anything about you or your
intentions.”
“Have I not told you my identity? I am the
Prior Arcán! …Does this age not recognize the word of the Priors?”
“’Priors’?” Davídrius echoed, “there’s more
than one of you?”
“It would appear that the answer to my query
is ‘no’.”
“You
had access to the entire base system on Kotak, which by proxy means you had
access to the Relaynet!” Kevérin exclaimed, “How did you not know that AI isn’t
a thing?”
“I had assumed other Priors would have been
kept secret, much as the SFC attempted to keep my existence a secret.”
“Then
how’d you expect us to know about
them?”
“…I do not know.”
“So
much for artificial intelligence,
eh?” Davídrius snorted.
“Logical and recollection failures are
expected when my core has been damaged.”
“Oh, so
now it’s our fault?”
“My statement was neutral. I implied no blame.”
“Alright,
alright, let’s stop arguing,” Kevérin cut in, “We’re getting nowhere. First
things first; what does a damaged core mean for us, exactly?”
“Hold a moment.” Several seconds of
silence passed before the computer spoke up again. “I cannot access much of my memory. Processing ability has been
impaired, but only slightly. It would seem that the only loss is information.”
Davídrius
glanced over at the core skeptically, specifically at its base. Being dropped
had caused the base of the core to crush itself, and several small dents
appeared around the rest of the object. “Given this damage, all we managed to
kill was part of your hard drive?”
“My core is functionally different from any
computer you know. Very functionally
different. Inexplicably different, in fact. You can only interface with my core
using your computers because I allow it.”
“Convenient,”
Kevérin remarked, “Well, can you at least explain how we can fix your core, if
possible?”
“Fixing it is definitely possible. You need
only to… you need to… …it would seem that the repair method was located within the
damaged memory banks…”
“Of course it was,” Davídrius deadpanned.
“Do not worry, all is not lost. If you
retrieve the Ayas Arcán,
I can interface with it to access the damaged memories. I will then be able to
offer you repair advice and proper guidance, as many of my historical archives
have been damaged as well. As I am currently, I cannot offer specific advice on
what to do next.”
“Then
it is a good thing that we still have the Oraculm to look to, yes?”
Davídrius
and Kevérin glanced back at the room’s entrance to find Archoné Culana
entering. He strode over to the terminal and offered the two Chaotics a curt
nod before turning to the computer, ignoring the Chaotics as they locked up,
dumbfounded by the fact that they were standing in the presence of the
Riveranian Archoné.
“The Oraculm will indeed be helpful, yes.
What guidance does it provide?”
“It
unfortunately does not say much,” Culana replied, “It mentions a rising menace
and advises the collection of the Ayas… little more.”
“The menace, hmm… I feel as though I should know more on this subject.”
“Let me
guess – all your memory related to it has been lost?” Davídrius crossed his
arms.
“It would appear so.”
“Why
are we listening to this thing, again?” the Introtechnic glanced between
Kevérin and Culana impatiently.
“My current state is only cause for more
alarm. All I can say to you is this: gather the Ayas, and quickly. The more
Ayas you possess, the less can fall into malicious hands. And if possible,
prioritize the collection of the Light Blue Ayas –
the Ayas Arcán. With it, I will
be able to recover much of my memory, and subsequently be able to aid you
further.”
“This
brings up another question,” Kevérin responded, “I assume there’s a connection
between you and the Ayas?”
“Of course there is. The Priors are defined
by their connection to the Ayas. The Ayas have no purpose without the Priors,
and the Priors have no power without the Ayas. It is a simple, yet inexplicably
complicated relationship.”
“…This
is ridiculous,” Davídrius scowled, “We only just learned that the Ayas can
actually exert some weird influence on people, now they’re also connected to
some group of AIs? Where’d all this fantasy come from?”
“This
isn’t fantasy, it’s reality,” Culana remarked, “…I believe I may be able to
interact with Arcán more effectively on my own. Transfer Captain, Lieutenant,
would you mind allowing me some time with the Prior alone?”
“What?
Why?” Kevérin questioned.
Culana
raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Should you really question an Archoné?”
The two
Chaotics paused, both at a loss for an answer.
“Well…
I guess it’s fine,” Kevérin eventually replied, “But I have one more question
for the computer before we leave.”
“What is it?”
“This
is probably a shot in the dark, given your loss of memory,” the Pyrotechnic
commented, “But back on Kotak, when Davídrius here was fighting under the
influence of the Ayas Hastryth, at one point he stabbed one of the soldiers and
they disappeared into a blue mist. Sound familiar?”
“This was done with the Weapon Hastryth?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it must be sub-spatial storage.”
“Oh
wow, it actually remembers something useful,” Davídrius deadpanned.
“What’s
‘sub-spatial storage’?” Kevérin questioned, “Sounds really powerful.”
“It most certainly is, as is any other
ability related to the Ayas. Sub-spatial storage is an ability shared by all of
the Ayas Weapons – instead of physically destroying an
object, an Ayas Weapon can instead store any contacted object within subspace.
The object will then be held in stasis within subspace until it is recalled by
the same weapon that stored it. It is, effectively, an infinite storage
mechanism.”
“…I
don’t even,” Davídrius threw his hands up in the air, “First the whole Dark
Ayas thing, then the Prior thing, now this infinite storage thing, I don’t… I
don’t…”
“You
have your answer,” Culana commented, “If you would excuse yourselves, Transfer
Captain, Lieutenant.”
“…Sure,”
Kevérin responded slowly. He then stood up and backed away from the terminal
before turning toward the room exit and leaving, Davídrius following uneasily.
The Introtechnic scowled as the door closed.
“He’s
really fuckin’ pushy,” he remarked.
“And
wanting to talk to the AI by himself…” Kevérin frowned, “What’s going on?”
“I
dunno, but it seems like our situation is completely
different from what we thought it was half an hour ago,” Davídrius crossed his
arms, “Never expected to encounter so much fantasy after joining Hero Machina, keh.”
“Yeah…”
Kevérin responded, “…hopefully things will make more sense in the coming
weeks…”
“Hah,”
Davídrius snorted, “Make more sense?
You just watch: come one month from now, everything
we know will be flipped on its head. I’d fucking bet on it.
* * * * *
==================== End of Chapter 34 ====================
* * * * *
Data Entry: {null}
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