Homeworld: Equestria - The Silent Hunters

by hiigaran

28: Asaam Kiith'Sid (Part 2)

Glare’s eyes fluttered open in the early hours of the morning. Though the blackout curtains were closed, slivers of light could be seen along the edges. Glancing at the digital clock on the night stand, the screen read seven-twenty.

Feeling her head rising and falling gently while it rested atop Obsidian’s chest, she smiled at the sleeping figure. The changeling seemed more peaceful with each day since their Canterlot outing, and Glare liked to think she had contributed to most of that. The frequency and severity of Obsidian’s nightmares had certainly dwindled to nothing; a clear improvement as far as Glare was concerned. Of the few remaining instances they would manifest, a tighter grip on the sleeping changeling typically pacified him.

Pulling away from the changeling, Glare rolled and wiggled clumsily to the edge of the bed. Her hooves landed on the carpeted floor, almost giving out, before a stretch of every muscle restored some circulation to her limbs. Lumbering over to the bathroom, she flipped the light switch and commenced her morning ritual, taking advantage of one of two packaged dental kits beside the sink.

Obsidian woke shortly after hearing running water from the bathtub. Turning onto his side, he pulled the covers completely over himself, and curled into a ball. Knowing Glare, he’d have ten more minutes before having to get up.

His estimate was accurate. Glare returned shortly after, shivering lightly as she joined Obsidian under the blanket, her fur still slightly damp. “I turned the air conditioner off, and it’s still cold in here. Who in their right mind thinks sixteen degrees is comfortable?”

“Heh, well I’m at the opposite end of that spectrum. I like twenty-eight degrees in a room.”

“You sure like to be oddly specific sometimes, don’t you? Got a preferred level of humidity, too?” the unicorn teased.

“Seventy percent, though fifty is better for managing mould growth at my preferred temperature.”

“I … wasn’t being serious, but okay.” Falling silent, Glare rolled onto her back and spread her limbs out. After her coat dried, she turned her head toward Obsidian. “You know we need to get up soon, right? Wouldn’t want to keep Isak waiting.”

“Yeah,” Obsidian sighed, mindful of his morning breath. “You know, part of me wants to forget about the whole museum thing, and just stay in for the day.”

“You and me both, but I know where that’s going to lead.” Glare bopped Obsidian on his snout, before adding, “Would rather not be limping around Amarok. Somepony will definitely suspect something.”

“Good point.” With a dramatic grunt, Obsidian threw the blanket off and sat upright on the bed. “Alright, give me a few minutes to get ready. Should be able to get some breakfast before meeting Isak.”

Glare returned to her hooves. “Take your time. I’ll come back here when I’m ready.” In a flash of yellow, the unicorn disappeared.

After running a quick bath, Obsidian dried off and donned his NSU, pocketing his room key and allowance card. While he waited for Glare, he pulled the curtains open, squinting slightly as the room was bathed in light.

Glare teleported back shortly after, wearing the same jumper from the night prior. Catching sight of the changeling, Glare gave Obsidian a disapproving look. “You’re going out in your uniform? Seriously?”

Obsidian shrugged. “Illusory clothes are great and all, but I still need physical pockets.”

“Alright, then suit up. Conjure something in its place.”

Obsidian rolled his eyes. As the green flames travelled across his body, he watched the last hints of amusement leave Glare’s face as he presented himself with a full suit, monocle, and top hat.

“Really, Obsidian?”

“Alright, how about something matching?” Obsidian suggested, turning into a perfect clone of Glare and sticking his tongue out at her.

“Ha-ha. Wait, hold on. Turn around,” the unicorn ordered, her eyes narrowing at her doppelganger. “Is that what my mane looks like from the back?”

While Glare rushed off to the bathroom mirror, Obsidian settled on simply hiding his NSU with nothing else in place. After half a minute of hearing spells go off in the bathroom, interspersed with groans of frustration from the caster, Obsidian decided to investigate.

“Glare? What—” Obsidian stopped, finding the unicorn switching between mane styles.

“Perfect timing,” Glare whined. “I can’t get the style right now of all times. Tried going for the wavy shag look, but I can’t get the layered part right.”

“I have absolutely no idea what any of that means, but we’re going to be late. Your mane is fine.”

“Wait, let me try one more—hey!” Glare yelped, as the changeling dragged her away by her barrel. “Nooooo,” she called out, reaching for the mirror.

---

After a wolfing down an assortment of pastries at the hotel’s breakfast buffet, Obsidian and Glare arrived at the lobby. Catching sight of Isak near the entrance, the pair headed toward him. As they made eye contact, Isak pulled a small device from a pocket near his waist, tapping on its screen a few times, before slipping it back in. “Good morning!” he greeted the pair. “Ready to head out?”

Nodding vigorously, Glare’s enthusiasm was painfully obvious. “I can’t wait!”

Isak chuckled. “I wish my kids were this excited with … anything educational, really. Anyway, I’ve called our transport. It should be here”—he paused, looking out into the street behind him, as a gunship descended—“now. Let’s get going, then.”

Stepping out of the hotel, the three climbed the stairs to the gunship with haste to escape the noise. Obsidian and Glare proceeded to secure themselves in the cabin, while Isak exchanged a few words with the pilot. A few seconds later, he took his seat, and the vessel departed.

“I’m curious,” Isak started. “Why pick the museum of all places to visit? Not criticising your choice, mind you, but with all the other tourist attractions in the city, I’d have expected something else.”

“Like what?” Glare asked.

“Well, if you like nature, there’s the wildlife biodome complex, which contains most of the known galaxy’s avian creatures. The water park is popular as well. If you want something cultural, the Manaani host non-stop events at the new Ferin Sha, or Dancing Ground. I could go on.”

“I wasn’t aware of those. Shadow suggested the museum for me, so I figured it would be a great place to absorb as much knowledge as possible from one place.”

“Speaking of, why didn’t your commanding officer join you?”

“Something about a spa day,” Obsidian answered.

As the gunship left the towering skyscrapers behind, the pilot altered course and flew parallel to the northern river. In the distance, the river from the other end of the city converged, and the gunship descended toward a large complex adjacent to the confluence.

Obsidian and Glare barely managed to get a look at their destination, as the gunship made a final turn and landed nearby. Lacking the patience to wait for stairs, Glare’s horn lit up, and the three found themselves standing in a wide open courtyard laid with sandstone slabs.

Isak shook his head and blinked hard a few times. “Wow, now there’s a new experience. Might want to warn me before you do that next time.”

Glare blushed. “Ehehe, sorry.” Looking back at the white structure at the end of the courtyard, she estimated the building to be at least five storeys tall. Stairs as wide as the building led to a large entrance, flanked on each side by three marble columns.

Ahead of each column stood statues spanning the building’s height, each of a different person of significance. Additional statues lined the sides of the courtyard, facing inward. Obsidian immediately recognised the one to the left of the entrance; the female posing with an outstretched arm, just like the image on the back of his allowance card. “That’s the S’Jet woman, isn’t it?”

“Karan S’Jet, to be precise,” Glare clarified, while the group approached the building. “And that one to her left with his arms folded is Melarn Soban. Everypony in Equestria knows about him. I don’t recognise the others, though. And why are the first and last statues with blank faces?”

“Because we don’t know what they looked like,” Isak explained. He pointed to the first faceless statue; a man standing with his arms by his side. “That one is Laykab Jaraci. After a satellite malfunctioned and scanned Kharak’s surface instead of the solar system, he discovered a strong signal buried in the desert. This signal was instrumental to discovering the First City of Kharak, Khar Toba.”

Obsidian was confused. “Huh? Kharak was uninhabited, right? Meaning Khar Toba was your city. How do you discover your own city?”

“Khar Toba was built from the wreck of the only ship to … mostly survive entering Kharak’s atmosphere. When the power failed, its inhabitants abandoned it and journeyed to the poles to escape the heat. The location and its significance was lost over many generations.”

“Who’s the female to the right of Karan?” Glare asked, her eyes travelling to the statue of a female looking up into the sky, her shoulder-length hair chiselled to appear as if it was blown in the wind.

“Rachel S’Jet,” answered Isak. “Six years after Leykab discovered the signal known as the Primary Anomaly, she was the lead science officer of Operation Khadim. It was the second, and successful attempt to locate the Primary Anomaly. The expedition wouldn’t have been possible without the leadership of the man next to him, Captain Roman S’jet. For someone as tough as he was, you’d think he was Sobani.”

Glare hung on to every word Isak said. “Oh, that’s what Rachel looks like. But if she was on the second expedition, what happened to the first?”

“Operation Skaal Brii failed, after a collapsing sand dune swallowed up the flagship. As for the last person, that’s Mevath Sagald. Twenty-five years after Operation Khadim, she led a team of archaeologists to Khar Toba. She discovered an observatory there, which contained one of our most valuable artefacts—”

“Oh, I know this one!” Glare cut in. “It was the slab of rock etched with a galactic map that lead your people home. The guidestone!” Resisted the urge to bounce on the spot, she added, “We haven’t even entered the museum, and I’m already learning so much! Eeeee, I love it!”

Obsidian gave the unicorn a sidelong glance. “Never heard that sound come out of you before.”

Realising she had attracted the attention of several onlookers, Glare quickly grew self-conscious and let out another nervous laugh. “Let’s just head inside, shall we?”

Stifling a snicker, Isak led the group through the entrance. Offering to pay the admittance fee of the others, they soon found themselves in a large, round atrium. Several open doors bordered the curved walls, leading to various exhibitions, while flights of stairs spiralled up alongside the walls to the other floors.

At the centre of the atrium stood a display protected by thick glass, and four armed guards at attention. Inside, the cracked and chipped stone Glare described was held upright atop a pedestal. As the three approached, she looked up at the glass casing’s contents with awe, immediately recognising the markings on the stone’s flattest face.

“So that’s the famous guidestone,” Glare commented with disbelief. “I never thought I’d see something of such historical importance with my own eyes.”

Obsidian clearly did not share Glare’s wonder. “I thought it would be bigger.”

“Apparently it was. Nothing massive, mind you.” Leaning closer to a plaque at the base of the display, Glare read aloud parts of the engraved text. “… comprised mostly of vacuum-cooled sedimentary rock from the Angel Moon … dated to sixty-five-ten GSY … mostly destroyed by the Khar Toba crash, what remained was an ornate etching of the galaxy on the flattest face of the stone.”

“And a single word,” Isak added. “The only word common to all Kharakian dialects before Kushan-La existed. Hiigara. Home. Without the guidestone, we never would have known where we came from.”

---

Moored at Equestria’s orbital crew station, Amarok’s crew oversaw a quick resupply. Sierra supervised the loading and securing of each solid block of fusion drive fuel, stored away in the cargo compartments that bordered the hull on the engineering deck. Other engineering crew had been delegated to similar duties across several other decks to ensure all fuel had been accounted for and properly stowed.

While the engineering crew busied themselves, the chefs carried out their own inspections of foodstuffs loaded into hull compartments on decks closer to the galley, and medical crew tended to the receipt of infirmary and pharmaceutical consumables. Already fully loaded with torpedoes, weapons crew took to avoiding the sight of their superiors, out of fear of being given something to do.

During the resupply, Admiral Foxtrot made a surprise visit, requesting a private conversation with Commander Quasar. Seated in the Captain’s quarters, all Quasar could do was sigh after the higher-ranking officer finished speaking. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time for this, Admiral. My Infiltrators are unavailable, and you chose this day to launch an attack?”

“I’m well aware our timing is less than optimal,” Foxtrot agreed. He took a sip of coffee offered by the Commander before proceeding. “However, according to our intel, this congregation of Raiders will be brief. If we strike now, we can overpower them, and wipe out much their fleet.”

“Alright, fine, give me the rundown. Where are they, what’s our time frame, and how many do we expect to deal with?”

“We know they will be near the Great Wastelands in twenty-eight hours. What we don’t know is their exact fleet composition. Even if we sent in a massive fleet, it could turn into a slaughter. We’d be fools to charge in without eyes on the scene first.”

Quasar folded his hooves and leaned back. “I suppose that’s where Amarok comes in. You want us to jump in while cloaked, and survey the area?”

“Not exactly. We’ll be sending you in alongside Basilisk. Carry out your observations, then make a judgement call between your two ships. If you think you can engage the Raiders and soften them up enough for the rest of our forces to defeat, do so. If there are too many for us to handle, fire whatever you have in your tubes, retreat to our staging area, and we’ll call off the assault.”

“How many is too many? Between two stealth destroyers, we could take down an armada of frigs and cruisers. If this is indeed a massive gathering of Raiders, however, I’d need a list of all fleet assets involved in this operation, before I make such an important decision.”

Foxtrot slid a folder over to Quasar. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a briefing package for you. You’ll find our fleet manifest in there. As for opposition, assume those Raider battlecruisers are present, and that every other ship carries their new sensors.”

Flipping the folder open, Quasar skimmed through the manifest. “You’ve committed a lot of ships to this. Is there something I’m not being told?”

“Keep reading.”

As his eyes travelled down the list of ships, one caught Quasar’s attention. “What’s this? Vortex?”

“Mmhm. It’s the code-name for a cruiser-class ship we’ve been working on. A pure upgrade to conventional destroyers in terms of firepower and thrust, so the plan is to phase them out in favour for this cruiser.”

“By ‘conventional’, you mean the Hiigaran-designed destroyers? Stealth destroyers will remain in service, right?”

“Correct. We’ve relied far too much upon Hiigaran designs. Hay, even our Navy’s emblem is derived from the Hiigarans’. While their ships have served us well over the years, they’re not designed with magic in mind. The potential of our crew is wasted on them. The Vortex is only slightly longer and taller than a standard destroyer, yet the crew complement is slightly smaller. Next page has the exterior schematics.”

Quasar scrutinised the ship’s blueprints. From above, the Vortex resembled a nine-toothed cog, with the aft-most tooth twice as wide as the others to accommodate seven engines. Mounted dorsally on the other eight surfaces were twin-barrelled turrets, alternating between kinetic and plasma variants. An additional hard-point was located centrally, where a larger twin-barreled artillery turret sat.

“No ion cannons?” the Captain asked, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment.

Foxtrot laughed. “I wish. Puts too much strain on the power-plant. Artillery is safer. Though, we destroyed four prototype hard-points before we built something that could withstand the immense strain of firing that thing, but the effective range was worth it. Should be a hard counter to both Vindicators and Daggers, while remaining manoeuvrable enough to stay out of the firing arc of those new Raider battlecruisers.”

“Considering the flying saucer shape, full weapon coverage, and high output engines, I have to wonder what attack style it would employ. Artillery maximises range, suggesting circling the edge of a battlefield for long-range fire support. However, the mid-range kinetic turrets, and short-range plasma turrets have me confused. Are short-range battles intended to be shock-and-awe?”

“That’s right. Long-range is the safest option, and a preference. However, Princess Luna’s aggressive tactical preferences work incredibly well, if a Vortex jumps into the heart of an enemy fleet. Eighteen turrets means eighteen simultaneous targets. Those powerful engines then allow the ship to weave between targets. Inspired by Harmony’s battle in the Great Nebula. Outmanoeuvre your opponent, and it won’t matter how much firepower or armour they have.”

“Guess you can’t do that with a battlecruiser. In a one-versus-one encounter between two battlecruisers, the victor will be the one who fires first.”

“Exactly. Never liked them for that reason.”

“Looks like piloting skill will be a significant factor on a capital ship for once.” Quasar commented. “Speaking of battlecruisers though, will they be phased out too?”

“Given the Vortex can dish out almost the same punishment as a battlecruiser in a smaller package, there’s a good chance it will be. Can’t say anything with certainty, though. Some, like myself, would like to see our capital ship composition exclusively made up of Vortex-class cruisers, while others want to design something that replaces or upgrades our Hiigaran-designed battlecruisers with a crew of magic users in mind.”

“You’d still need carriers if you want effective strike craft support, though,” Quasar pointed out.

“True, which is why I’m in favour of re-purposing our battlecruisers into Harmony-class supercarriers. Their construction bays are just large enough to moor a Vortex for repairs or maintenance, which means fewer fleets would have to rely on those horrible shipyards that can barely move.”

“Yeah, that would be one less liability to worry about. Should take the pressure of our limited construction capabilities as well.” Returning to the Vortex’s schematics, Quasar scanned the underside, finding four additional twin plasma turrets around the edges, and another centrally mounted artillery turret. A hangar was also built into the underside of the left and right protrusions.

The Captain raised an eyebrow at this. “Wouldn’t have expected a hangar. This ship has some serious firepower, which means it’s going to have a massive power-plant. That explains why the engine’s would be so powerful. But to manage that on something as small as a cruiser, even with what I assume would be power shunting … it’s the armour you’ve sacrificed, isn’t it?”

“Mmhm. Part of the crew complement includes eighteen shielding officers.”

Quasar blinked. “What? You could protect eighteen destroyers with them instead, and you’re placing that many on one ship? Last I checked, we’ve still got a crew shortage.”

“We’re thinking of halving that number, but we first have to see how our new cruiser stands up to larger fleets. This ship tore through smaller fleets with frightening ease, but now it’s time to push it further.”

“I still think it’s weird you guys slapped a hangar onto this ship.”

“It was quite the debate, but we figured having immediate fighter support was worth it. Supercarriers are great for holding large wings of fighters, but they’re not going to be found in the middle of a battle if they can help it. That means there’d be unnecessary delays if a wing of Wraiths need to be deployed, as they’ll have to travel from the supercarrier, to the Vortex.”

“And considering Wraiths are simultaneously the most and least manoeuvrable craft we have, launching them outside the vicinity of their combat zone would be a disaster for anything they need to protect,” Quasar concluded.

“Exactly. Anyway, I’ll let you go through the rest of your briefing package. Get yourself over to the staging area, join up with Basilisk, then drop in on the Raiders. I’ll see you ‘round.”

---

Having spent an hour perusing Hiigaran exhibitions, Obsidian, Glare, and Isak explored the displays of Kharakian flora and fauna. Finished with the understandably small section of plant life, the three moved on to the animal exhibits, housing life-like recreations of the wildlife and their natural habitats.

“Oh, this first one is actually my favourite,” Isak stated, as the group stopped in front of a bird with colours and markings resembling sandstone. The sheer length of its outstretched wings, its tiny body, and large talons made for an almost comical appearance. “They’re called fiirkan. Those long wings allowed them to glide and remain aloft in thermals. During hunts, they’d ride the fronts of sandstorms, where the weather forced smaller creatures out from hiding. Despite their size, they had no problem plucking animals five times larger from the dunes.”

Glare tilted her head slightly, as she viewed the avian from multiple angles. “It kind of looks like somepony created a cross between a hawk and an albatross, then shrank it down.”

“Except the claws,” Obsidian observed. “Weird looking expression on its face though.”

“They look like they’re on drugs, don’t they?” Isak remarked, before the three moved on. “Oh, now this was a nasty one. The kudaark was a large burrowing creature known for three things; large claws, a nasty temper, and spines along its snout that could be expelled in a cloud of barbs.”

Obsidian examined the snout, where a vertical stub stood loaded with countless spiked objects. “You mean it grows natural air-burst rounds?”

Isak shrugged. “I suppose you could say that, yes.”

The impressed changeling hummed. “I like this animal.”

“You’d be singing a different tune if you wandered too close to its territory,” the Hiigaran lectured, hesitating before adding, “Or rather, you’d be too busy running and screaming in the opposite direction to sing at all.”

Moving on to the adjacent display, three creatures stood side-by-side, with the nearby plaque identifying them as triikor. The larger two were mostly identical. Continuing with the theme of Kharakian wildlife, their short fur matched their environment, and their four large paws barely concealed several claws each. The smaller one, presumably the offspring, had a lighter, fuzzier coat.

“That little one’s cute.” Glare commented. “Almost looks like a cat. Though, considering the adults look about as big as a tiger, I’m guessing they’re not as domesticated.”

“I’m not familiar with those animals.” Isak remarked. “What are tigers and cats?”

“Tigers are predatory felines, similar to those,” Glare explained, pointing to the adults. “A little stockier though. Plus their coats are more orange, with black stripes. As for cats, I suppose they’re a more generic term we use for the pets some of us keep back in Equestria. They look like the cubs, but the adults won’t get much bigger.”

Standing silently, Isak took a moment to process the fact that ponies kept predators as pets. “With respect, you ponies are weird. Bet this next one won’t be considered pet-worthy to you.”

Obsidian read the plaque mounted to the wall beside the display’s glass pane. “Skaal? Another predator?”

Isak’s sarcasm started to show. “What gave it away? The large claws, the scales, or the barbed tail with poison sacs?”

Glare looked up at the menacing beast. “Those things must be at least ten times your size! Your people used to live on a planet full of these?”

“I wouldn’t say full of them, but they were enough of a menace to journeying civilians and caravaneers, that they were hunted to near extinction. Or … Well, technically I suppose they are extinct now.”

“Glare, you speak as if our planet doesn’t have its own share of dangerous creatures,” Obsidian pointed out.

Folding his arms, Isak leaned against a nearby column. “Oh, this ought to be interesting. What have you got?”

“Let’s see …” Obsidian looked up at the white ceiling, before settling on his first animal. “We’ve got something called a cockatrice. Got the body of a snake and the head of a chicken. You know what those are, right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Now they seem laughable, but their stare can turn you into solid rock. Pretty easy to avoid one by averting your gaze, but a flock of them become a little more problematic.”

“So, what if you’re blind? Would they still turn you into rock?”

Obsidian shrugged. “No idea. Glare?”

“Not sure either. The scariest creature in my opinion goes to the manticore. I’d describe it as a smaller version of a skaal, but with fur instead of scales. The tail has a venomous stinger as well. Oh, and they’ve got leathery, bat-like wings.”

“I’d have gone with the ursa,” Obsidian countered. “The cubs are basically blue, transparent bears, larger than a typical house. They’re filled with starry markings in their bodies, plus a larger marking on their foreheads. The adults, though? One of the largest creatures I know of. A cub can easily fit in the mouth of an adult.”

Isak blinked. “And just like that, my eagerness to visit your planet has gone.”

“I mean, it’s not like you’ll see them rampaging through the cities,” the changeling repudiated with a shrug.

“There was that one time an ursa cub came through Ponyville,” Glare rebutted. “I remember reading about it in the papers.”

“I know. I was there. Turned out some travelling magician lied about defeating an ursa to look more impressive. A couple of kids wanted to see that themselves, so they baited a cub into town. There was quite a bit of damage as a result.”

“How did that magician take the ursa down?” Isak asked.

Obsidian snickered. “By galloping off in the opposite direction. Sprinkle had to deal with the mess.”

Glare snorted. “Okay, now you’re just calling her that on purpose.”

“Been doing that for over a year now, but thanks for noticing. Anyway, as for other creatures, you’ve got the bugbear, which I hope needs no further description. Cragadiles, which are amphibious reptilians with rocky skin, and maulwurfs, kind of like purple kudaarks, but without the snout barbs. I could go on with the list of predators.”

“You know what? How about we sit down and grab some lunch first? I want to hear about all of them.”

---

After spending an hour at the museum’s food court, the three continued exploring. For at least another hour afterwards, Isak tried to come to terms with what he imagined were horrors that coexisted with Equestria’s populace.

Even after finishing with another major section of the museum, the Hiigaran continued making the occasional comment about the odd creatures. “So what’s to say that a tatzlwurm can’t wreak havoc on a town?”

Obsidian laughed. “Are you still going on about this?”

Glare was happier to indulge the officer. “I suppose nothing would stop them, though I’ve never heard of one doing that before.”

Eventually, Glare, Obsidian, and Isak moved on to less prominent sections of the museum, housing artefacts, artwork, and cultural items of significance from other races. In an area set aside for the Taiidan, a pair of worn and eroded canvas paintings were sealed behind glass.

Looking up at the artwork, the one on the left depicted a fearsome quadruped, with a scaly hide reminiscent of cragadiles. Each bony leg ended with clawed digits, while its jaws sported fangs as large as its head.

The one on the right appeared more bug-like. Two raptorial appendages curled down from beneath its neck, and two pairs of legs protruded from each side underneath near the abdomen. The head was more ovular and elongated, reminding Obsidian of the horror movie he watched the previous day.

“Those creatures would be depictions of the Taiidan gods. The right one is the god of protection, Koshiir-Ra, while the other is Qwaar-Jet, god of pain and enslavement.”

Glare raised an eyebrow. “Pain and enslavement? That seems pretty macabre. Why would the Taiidan worship something like that?”

“Fear, mostly. Qwaar-Jet was also considered their patron god of war.”

“Odd kind of religion”—Obsidian shrugged—“but okay. Speaking of … Given that the Equestrian Navy destroyed your god, how has the death of Sajuuk affected the lives of your citizens? Or the rest of the galaxy for that matter.”

“Well, it certainly sent ripples throughout the galaxy wherever he was worshipped. Overnight, many followers gave up their faith, and others eventually followed. The transition seemed to go quite well, surprisingly. A minority chose to remain devout, insisting their faith was being tested or something.”

“Sounds like they’re just being stubborn,” the changeling commented. “Or in denial.”

“Hey, I can’t blame them. Sajuuk was a significant part of many people’s lives. Eh, who am I to judge if they’re not harming anyone? Now if they ended up like the Gaalsien? That’d be a different story. What about you two? You have any theological culture?”

“Not exactly,” Glare answered. “Some believe in an alicorn creator who willed us into existence with her imagination, and instilled in us the positive values by which we live, but there’s no sacred building to congregate in or anything like that. Those who believe in her are considered to honour and worship her through their positive influence on others.”

“I was under the impression most ponies just worshipped Celestia,” Obsidian remarked.

Glare shot Obsidian a quizzical look. “Worship? No, no, nothing like that. Well, maybe a couple of the really crazy ones. Reverence would probably be more a more accurate word for most ponies. I think the best analogy would be Princess Celestia and Princess Luna being our equivalent to Karan S’Jet.”

When Isak understood, he nodded. “Right, I get it. I assume that means you two would likely be the, uhh, Princess reverers?”

Obsidian shook his head. “Definitely not me. I’m not Equestrian anyway. Completely different species.”

The discussion reminded Glare about something. “Actually, I’ve never thought to ask. Do changelings have a religion, or something along those lines?”

“No. Most of us take an objective view on life. Considering how much of a struggle it has been for us, we figured if there was a god, or gods out there, he, she, or it is not worthy of our respect. Our goal has always been to just survive and make the most of things. Though many are open to the idea that some being might have seeded life in the galaxy, however. From what I’ve heard about Sajuuk, this seems likely, actually. But would we worship such an entity? No. They'd just be a footnote in our history books.”

“Fair enough,” Glare replied, before the three continued to the next display.

---

As dusk approached, Obsidian, Glare, and Isak were the last of the visitors to leave. Using half of his remaining allowance, Obsidian carried a large bag of unusual souvenirs. The first was a leather pouch filled with leaded darts, while the other, larger item was a shield. “Souvenirs for someling back home,” as Obsidian put it.

Reading the receipt, Obsidian hummed. “So ‘seejur’ is your word for a shield. This one of those words made from other words, Isak? I remember that the third floor was ‘see’, and there are three spikes on this shield. Does that mean this shield is called ‘three spikes’?”

“Actually, the most literal translation would be ‘three spike’, in the singular,” Isak corrected. “A seejur was only one specific shield variant, but it became the generic term due to their widespread use. Even our Navy calls your ship shields a ‘rozt seejur’.”

“Is that another literal translation? Ship shield?”

“Correct.”

“So what’s the deal with these raachok weapons, then?” Obsidian asked, while rattling the pouch of darts.

“Those were from the early martial period on Kharak. The darts were designed to be hurled in rapid succession. While they weren’t intended to be a primary weapon, they did force the enemy to raise their shields, allowing friendly forces to close in and get the first strike before the enemy had recovered.”

“So, more of a harassment tool. Easy to defend against, but leaves you open to worse. I guess I can see the tactical usefulness, but if you’re carrying enough of those into battle, I feel like that’s additional weight that could be used for better armour instead. Or a proper bow and arrows. Why was that not an option?”

“Let’s just say that Kharak’s resources didn’t include materials conductive to the mass production of arrows.” Isak responded, while simultaneously calling his gunship for a second time.

“Right, right. I don’t recall seeing any large trees back in the Kharakian exhibits. And not like you could make arrows out of all that sand.”

Watching their transportation descend from the steadily darkening sky, Isak was ready to try Glare’s teleportation this time around. Appearing in the vessel’s cabin, the pilot jumped, causing the gunship to wobble for a moment.

“Such an odd feeling,” Isak commented. “Do you always get that split-second headache and disorientation, or is it something you get used to?”

“Uhh, I don’t think any of us get either one.” Pausing to consider the symptoms, she shook her head. “No, definitely not. At least, if you ignore overuse. Might be something related to your species.”

After Isak directed the pilot back to the hotel, he spent the rest of the ride with Glare educating him on teleportation. When the three landed and entered the lobby, Isak bid farewell and split off from Glare and Obsidian to have a word with one of the receptionists.

Heading to the elevators, Glare and Obsidian entered one that was already open, and selected their floor.

Obsidian broke the silence first. “Well, I have to admit, it was an interesting day. Was better than I expected it to be.”

“Learned something, did you?”

“I guess. I think that’s enough mental stimulation for one day, though. Feel like watching a movie before calling it a night?”

The pair looked up as the elevator announced their arrival. Stepping out on their floor, Glare followed Obsidian to his room. “Yeah, why not? Anything good?”

The changeling shrugged. “Eh. Hit and miss, from my brief experience. I’m sure there’s something worth watching.”

Author's Note:

For those who haven't played Homeworld 2 with the Complex mod, do it. The Vortex is an awesome ship: