| Author | Message | ||
     Capt. Sieven Drexler |
Xanadu The formal report was seventy-two pages long, but Sieven's portion was only on four of them. It was an easy report to write if he kept focused, but he was saddened by the unnecessary losses. There wasn't much else he could've done to make it an effortless first contact--things were going to go south even if he had come up with some genius plan. He clarified that there was nothing about "launching asteroids" in the exchange, and provided support for all of his actions. Diplomacy was certainly not one of Sieven's weak points--he had several years in similar situations stored in his memory banks, as well as formal training in the field. His creative ideas, meant to provide a temporary reprieve in the damages being taken, would turn out to be possibly damaging in the long term. That, too, seemed almost irrelevant, though, next to the epic magnificence of the Jjaro technology, and the nightmare of it causing the end of their universe. The Zheda would come to understand their situation in time--if that time ever came to pass. Sieven felt it in the deepest gorges of his mind. He could sense it when he listened to people talking to one another. There were hidden patterns in the chaos of casual conversation that he picked up, and it was of something bigger, though the speakers were discussing the most mundane things: interpersonal relationships, career goals, how best to decorate one's stateroom. In every word resonated a nearing finality, of strident truths and destined changes. Speech lost its typical sonority, as though it wasn't alive anymore; trapped in a soundproof room with no chance to reverberate, or patched through a cheap audio device. Thoughts strayed to Tuberider and to the Way. He spent an hour in the Fourth Chamber while they lazily revolved around Meyer, hoping the next attack would not come, but knowing it would. The warning was extended to Meyer's colonies that until Xanadu left the system, they were not safe. This, of course, did not seem to matter terribly much to the Camelynians. They could not be instilled with the fear of that which they could not possibly fight by hand or sword. The stage is set. Now only the curtain must rise. BTC |