//------------------------------// // Intermission: Shirska, Prince of Kings // Story: Light of Harmony // by GjallarFox //------------------------------// Shirska donned his helm as he had every day for the past four cycles on this new planet. He didn't know what the denizens were called, and he didn't know what they called this planet. He looked down at his shrapnel launcher, freshly forged for him by the Kell's top gunsmiths. It was a beautiful and brutal looking weapon, but he didn't enjoy using it. To him, it was a tool for self-defense and defense of his House's territory. He was much more interested in the people the Eliksni fought against. He'd been studying their technology with the help of his own Servitor, Orbiks-13. He'd found several relics in the territory that he'd been scouring, which the Kell had centralized around a cosmodrome, including small electronic devices with parts manufactured by glimmer, as well as some that didn't, which seemed older. "Try charging this device now," he said to his Servitor, holding a device up to the spherical machine. For a few moments, nothing seemed to be happening, but the sudden vibration in Shirska's hand made him jump a bit. He smiled, seeing a white logo appear on the device's screen. Despite how simple the device looked, with only four buttons and a tiny switch to speak of, along with a few unidentified plugs, Shirska had a feeling that it was far more complex than that. The screen suddenly dimmed significantly, and then swapped the small logo for an image of a forest with golden sunlight pouring through the leaves. Shirska looked at the image, wondering what place the image depicted, or if the image even depicted a real place at all. There were few places the Eliksni had seen that had enough trees to make such a scene possible. "Keep charging it, and see if you can't charge any of the others. I'm certain these devices will be full of information," Shirska ordered calmly, setting down the device and picking up his shrapnel launcher again. The Servitor made a noise that he'd come to know as meaning 'Yes sir.' As soon as Shirska exited his quarters and entered the hallways of the Kell's personal Ketch, he was greeted by a Dreg that he had come to know as a very skilled warrior. He'd even earned a recommendation for limb regrowth and promotion to Vandal. "Good morning Greksis, I trust you are prepared for today's patrol?" "Most certainly, my liege. Any word on my arms?" the Dreg replied. "Sadly, no," the Captain answered. "The Kell and Archon rarely speak to me on such matters. Although I did manage to get you a Vandal-sized ration of ether for you today." "How many Barons did you have to seduce to get ahold of that?" the Dreg replied. "Three," Shirska said without missing a beat, his tone far more serious than Greksis had anticipated. The Dreg looked up at his Captain and dare-he-say friend, with eyes wide. "You did not." "Kilas, Esther, and Lyskin." "Orbiks Prime, Shirska, are you serious? I mean, Kilas is a beefcake and all, but I never pegged you as—" "Do I sound like I'm joking?" the Captain mock growled. "You are insufferable..." The two passed into the hangar where Shirska's skiff was waiting, the remainder of the crew ready for the day's patrol. As soon as the Servitor on board saw the Captain approaching the skiff, the engines roared to life, screaming with raw power. ------ Their patrol was set to a newly discovered cosmodrome far to the west of the one his House had converted into main base of operations. This new cosmodrome, as the Servitor had briefed him and his team, was in a desert area, with very few water sources nearby. The Servitor and some 'experts' in the nobility believed this cosmodrome to be an experimental one, where new ship designs were tested, and suspected there would be a significant amount of high-value salvage. Once Shirska and his crew dropped down to the ground just inside the new cosmodrome, they instantly felt the heat. Checking his helmet's climate display, he cursed under his breath. "How these creatures survive in areas like this never ceases to confound me," he sighed. "We should have come at night." Shirska looked around, noting the massive colony ships that were in disrepair, similar in design to those near his House's hub. There were skeletons of fighter-class ships that had been shot down when the House of Devils had first arrived on this planet, rusted and sun-bleached and partially galvanized by the arrangement of arc weaponry used by his people. Of course, human ships were not the only ones that littered the grounds of the cosmodrome. A number of Fallen skiffs and fighters had been downed, and there was even a downed Ketch a few miles away with an impossibly large hole in its side. Shirska began walking towards a building just a few hundred meters to the south, where a ship that looked mostly intact lay abandoned by its creator and its pilot, but still patiently waited for them to greet it and put it to use. Much of the glass from the buildings was broken, but a few panels were still intact. He stepped inside through a doorway that had been blasted in, the shade instantly feeling much cooler than anywhere outside, but still warm enough to be mildly uncomfortable. All around him, Shirska could feel the presence of death. The bones of children, mothers, fathers, lovers... all lay here without the respect and rites that humans undoubtedly had in place to honor their dead. Sorrow, grief, and pain permeated the atmosphere of that unlit terminal like morning fog. Shirska felt cold in that place, even though it was significantly warmer than any comfortable temperature. He knelt before a skeleton that was propped up against a wall, inspecting it with a neutral expression beneath his helm. The air seemed to shiver there, as though someone was indeed sitting there, trembling in fear or from being cold. Shirska bowed his head for a moment, slinging his weapon across his back. "Sling your weapons. We will have no need of them here." He reached down to the skeleton's hand, seeing a piece of jewelry around one of its fingers. He never quite understood why they were so common. These rings were made from simple gold and silver, with the occasional precious stone. There was nothing inherently beneficial to possessing one, to his knowledge. They did not seem to have any practical purpose. But time and time again, he found them around the fingers of the skeletons. The lack of progress in accessing and translating human texts on culture and socio-religious structures played directly into his frustration. He wanted to learn about these creatures, understand them and talk to them. It was his firm belief that his people and theirs could end this pointless war and become allies, growing off of each others' technology and culture. Shirska carefully took the ring off of the skeleton, inspecting it closely. On the inner surface of the ring, there seemed to be an inscription, but he couldn't yet read it. He carefully placed the ring in a pouch on his chestplate, not wishing to damage the artifact and disrespect the corpse he'd just looted. Next to the skeleton was another small hand-held device, similar to the one he'd been working to restore with Orbiks-13. Deciding that this device likely belonged to the skeleton with the ring, he kept it as well, hoping to find some sort of information on the device as to the significance of the ring. "Captain," a Dreg among his crew spoke quietly. Shirska turned to face his subordinate. The Dreg continued, "I think I've found something of interest to you." The Dreg handed her captain a large book bound in black leather and leafed in gold. Somehow it had survived out here in such an inhospitable place, but books were easier to access the contents of than electronic devices, and made for valuable sources of information that Shirska found to be worth their weight in glimmer. Many of the other Eliksni deemed books unworthy of inspection. They could not decipher some, and others were either damaged beyond repair, or had pages missing. But Shirska believed them to be an invaluable source of information on the culture of humans. What inventions they favored would tell what they as a species valued most, be it efficiency, interconnection, or some other intangible. "An excellent find," Shirska said, having the squad's Servitor store it in the cloud for him to access later with Orbiks-13. "W-W-W-W-W-W-WELCO-WELCOME! To PH-PH-PH-PHOENIX AEROSPACE PORT! For your safety, please do not leave your bags unattended, and report any suspicious activity to the nearest security officer!" a voice blared around them in a foreign tongue. Shirska and his team drew their weapons instantly, looking around for the source of the voice. Silence hung thick in the air, the entirety of the terminal flooded in an eerie hush. No movement stuck out to any of the Fallen in the building. "Greksis. Take Drevis and Khasyn and look for whatever made that noise." "Yes sir," Greksis replied, the two Vandals assigned to go with him falling in line. Shirska kept his weapon raised, careful to keep the flames pouring out of the shrapnel launcher's barrels away from anything flammable. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally burn a book. After all, just one of them could be a priceless treasure. It could be filled with the knowledge necessary to understand human starflight, or the knowledge necessary to speak to them in a diplomatic and civilized fashion. After a few minutes, Greksis reappeared by himself, holding a small white object. "What of Drevis and Khasyn?" the Captain asked. "Fell through a loose catwalk, got their necks tangled in wires," the Dreg answered somberly. "And what is your prize?" "It has been reported by our scouts in House Devils' Lair as a device bound to the Ghouls. These devices are like fairies to them," Greksis said, handing it to Shirska. "These things were made by the Great Machine, and it could help you understand the humans, if you can access its memories." "An exceptional find. I will put in a second recommendation for you." ------ Back in Shirska's quarters, a loud buzz interrupted the Captain's silent thoughts. His head snapped to look at the source of the sound. A mechanical hum from his Servitor told him that it had completed its assigned task. Like a surprised cat, the Captain scrambled from his bed to his desk, nearly landing on his face as he did so. The screen of the device lit up, showing a simplistic white logo against a black background. The device made no sound, but Shirska watched and listened intently. Seconds were indistinguishable from hours as Shirska patiently waited for the device to finish booting up. It took a few minutes of tinkering, but Orbiks-13 managed to access the device, getting past the first security key, which was a simple 4-digit PIN. The device's screen soon showed a number of square-ish emblems. Selecting one at random, he tapped a grey looking one with a dark square and trapezoid on it. After a moment, the device's screen showed Shirska's face, blinking in real time. He stumbled back out of his chair in surprise and hit the floor unceremoniously. The Servitor looked at the Captain with a cold, emotionless stare, but made a series of noises that the Captain knew to be an attempt at humor. "Very funny, 13. Very funny," Shirska huffed, getting back up. Before he could sit down again, a device on Shirska's belt vibrated twice, alerting him to someone requesting his presence. He plucked the small hexagonal device from his belt and looked at its screen. The Kell had requested him directly. "I shall return," he told his Servitor before turning and stepping out into the hallways of the Kingship Orbiks-fel. On his way, he passed many fellow Eliksni he knew, including Kilas, Esther, and Lyskin, the three barons he'd seduced earlier that sub-cycle. Each of them gave him a slight nod in an informal, familiar way. He saw Greksis passing by, escorted on two sides by Palhas and Jyara, two members of the Dark Crown Black Ops team. But Shirska didn't give the odd sight much thought, as he was lost in his own head, wondering what the Kell wanted of him. Shirska stepped into the throne room of Orbiks-fel, where the Kell of Kings, Zeklas, sat with two High Servitors on either side of him. On either side of the blocky throne was a pair of swords, each with a blade as long as Shirska was tall. Several pillars held the roof up, with ether flowing through them. Most of the light in the room came from the dull glow of computer monitors and the eyes of the Servitors. Zeklas' eyes watched Shirska approach warily. Shirska knelt exactly sixteen paces from the door, as was dictated in tradition when addressing the Kell of a House. "My liege," Shirska said to the Kell. "There is no need to be so formal with me," Zeklas replied in his deep bass voice. "You've always hated the formalities of royalty, just like me." "You have summoned me here, and I wish to know why," Shirska said, trying his best to keep his tone neutral and respectful. "I can't summon my little Shirask to come t—" "My name is Shirska," he half-growled, showing as much restraint as he could at that point. "Right," the Kell's tone shifted. "I summoned you here because you put in a recommendation for that one Dreg to get his arms regrown. Greksis, was it?" "That would be he," the Captain replied. "I'm certain you've gotten the second recommendation by now." "Yes. It is unusual for the same Captain to put in two recommendations for the same Dreg," Zeklas spoke slowly. "Do you have feelings for this Dreg?" Shirska looked up at the Kell in surprise at the question. "Can you be more specific?" "Do you have romantic feelings for this Greksis the Dreg?" the Kell specified. "No, I do not. He is nothing more than a friend and trusted comrade," Shirska replied. "It would not be the first time a Captain let her fee—" "His," Shirska spat venomously. "—lings cloud her ju—" "HIS," Shirska stood an placed a hand on his shock pistol, earning a cold glare from the High Servitors, though Zeklas paid no mind to the hostility. "—dgement," he finished, glaring Shirska directly in the eyes. "I would not put such a thing past my own daughter, or even myself. We are not perfect beings." Through clenched teeth, Shirska choked, "Is there anything else you require of me before I take my leave?" "No," the Kell said coldly. "Take your leave."