Aetheral Space-Chapter 529 - 17.1: Nehr Müt

DAY 2

The nights on Nehr Müt were quiet, especially outside of Zepan.

Nehr Müt was dark, Nehr Müt was cold, and -- yes -- Nehr Müt was quiet. Just from looking at the endless expanse of grey dust, it would be tempting to think there wasn't even any air on this world. Perhaps there hadn't been, originally. Perhaps the master of this planet had done something to make it more habitable…

…but then again, if he had, why make the planet's one and only city such a fortress?

Zepan was a city composed of several huge modules, a civilization prefabricated. The population centres, Wards One through Eight, were bottle-shaped structures massive enough to house entire districts of Serendipity, arranged radially like spokes on a wheel. Ward One rested at the top, while Ward Eight -- the only one uninhabited, apparently -- languished at the bottom.

These structures were linked by an advanced tramway system, the vehicles moving through tunnels between the Wards rather than venturing outside. While the transport system was advanced, more efficient than anywhere else in the galaxy, it was also heavily regulated. It was a rare occasion when someone from one Ward would be permitted to travel to another. On Nehr Müt, everything was heavily regulated.

And the one who did the regulating rested at the centre of that wheel.

Auberon, the headquarters of Zepan's government and personal residence of the Director of the Pandershi Foundation, Zephyr Pandershi, towered over the Wards surrounding it. It was a mass of cylindrical towers of various heights, like a growth of artificial coral, its surface lined with surveillance instruments and data transmitters.

With Ward One serving as their antechamber, Auberon -- or rather, Zephyr Pandershi -- saw all and controlled all.

Despite the darkness of Nehr Müt, the city of Zepan was bright and shining -- the ambient glow from the exterior of the city pouring high up into the sky. Not even the dust that blew on Nehr Müt's meager winds could mar Zepan's radiance -- legions of automatics crawled over the outside of the city like spiders, cleaning away any blemish within seconds. This sparkling kingdom was a place that rejected anything that did not belong to it.

Somewhere in that fortress, Zephyr Pandershi waited with his personally scouted security forces. Somewhere in that fortress, Niain waited with the other members of Darkstar. Somewhere in that fortress, Dragan Hadrien waited, reduced to a head.

Well… maybe not that last one.

Ruth Blaine clung to the side of a building as she poured Aether into her eyeballs, infusing her vision so she could see the outer shell of Zepan even from this great distance. The old familiar Skeletal Set clung to her form -- in this alien landscape, its curiously light weight was a comfort. Plus, any Set stronger than this would attract undue attention.

From what she understood, Zepan had once been part of a much more spread out settlement, back when Nehr Müt had been a mining colony. When Pandershi had taken control, the population had been concentrated into the current complex, with the infrastructure left behind rotting away over time. The immediate surroundings of Nehr Müt had been cleared out by heavy-duty automatics, but a ring of rusted buildings and streets still encircled the city from a distance.

From the edge of that ring, Ruth looked out over the no-mans-land -- and saw what she was looking for.

A service hatch had been opened on the exterior of Ward Six, and a convoy of vehicles was clearly being assembled outside. It was distant, but as far as Ruth could see, the centerpiece of the convoy seemed to be a massive truck, with smaller escort vehicles surrounding it. Those guarding it seemed to be automatics, too, although they weren't any models that Ruth was familiar with.

She narrowed her eyes. Whatever they were taking, where were they taking it if not Zepan? It didn't look like they'd be setting out for at least a little while longer, anyway.

Best to get a second opinion.

There weren't any trees on Nehr Müt, and they'd taken most of the resources when they'd relocated to Zepan, so making a campfire would have been difficult. Luckily, Ruth hadn't come here alone. She'd come here with Atoy Muzazi.

One of his thrusters blazed with light and heat deep within the stripped-out corpse of what had once been a supply depot. The man himself sat before it. He'd seen better days. The battle on Serendipity had taken its toll on him. He'd lost his right arm, for one -- the stump had been crudely cauterized and bandaged -- and the exhaustion of the events only a couple of days ago were nothing to be scoffed at.

The half-face mask he wore had been broken and lost during their escape from Zepan, so when he looked up at Ruth's arrival, the burnt side of his face was on full display, artificial eye pale.

"Did you see anything?" he asked, his voice rough from thirst and fatigue.

"They're getting ready to move something," Ruth replied, demanifesting her armour as she sat opposite him. "Vehicles and guards. A big truck and a bunch of automatics guarding it on bikes. Don't know where they're heading, though."

Muzazi considered it for a second. "I expect Pandershi has other facilities on this planet for his experiments. He wouldn't want anything going wrong too close to home, after all. Were you able to see what they were transporting?"

The fact that Ruth finally had information was a blessing. Atoy Muzazi and Ruth Blaine had once been enemies on the opposite sides of the struggle against the Supremacy -- even now, they were only aligned by coincidence and convenience. If there wasn't intelligence that needed to be dissected, they'd probably just be sitting here in awkward silence forever.

That, or killing each other. They'd both tried at least once in the past.

"Nope," Ruth shook her head at Muzazi's question, but it was half-hearted, and soon enough she continued: "But… it's gotta be, right?"

Muzazi frowned. "It has to be what?"

"C'mon, man. Him."

"Hadrien?" It was Muzazi's turn to shake his head. "I doubt it. A Supreme is a high-value prisoner… the highest-value prisoner there is. If they were moving him -- and I don't think they would -- they'd have put far more resources into it. Members of Darkstar, I'd expect, not just automatics."

"Well, maybe that's what they want us to think," Ruth insisted, leaning forward, her excited face illuminated by the pale campfire. "Zephyr Pandershi's meant to be a genius, right? He could have, like, anticipated our moves and shit. They could just drive him right past without us realizing."

Muzazi's frown deepened, and he adjusted his sitting position slightly, wincing at the movement. "I want to be clear about something, Miss Blaine," he said.

The excitement faded from Ruth's expression, and she leaned back into the shadows again. "Right."

"I believe we're here with different goals in mind," he said seriously. "We haven't discussed this in words, so I think it's important we do so now. From what I understand, your goal right now is to retrieve Dragan Hadrien. Is that right?"

She nodded. "It is."

"That's not my goal," he said. "My goal is to retrieve Aclima. That girl has suffered a great deal because of me… and my foolish ambition. To put it bluntly, I couldn't care less what happens to Dragan Hadrien. In fact, if I were to cross paths with him here on Nehr Müt, there's a fairly good chance I'd try to kill him myself. I'm not going to seek out that outcome, but I think you should be aware of it."

Ruth said nothing.

"I'm not naive enough to think you're trying to retrieve Hadrien as a Nebula of the UAP, to try and bring him to justice." Muzazi sighed. "You actually want to save him, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Her answer was simple. "He's my friend."

Muzazi shook his head. "Forgive my saying so, Miss Blaine, but he has a funny way of showing it. He nearly killed you and the del Seds back on Serendipity. I'm sure he ensnared you in all manner of mischief back on Azum-Ha. He may be your friend, but I don't know if you are his."

Ruth shifted position too, resting her arm on her mechanical knee. These metal legs… no matter how long she had them, she'd never truly get used to them. Part of her would always be back there, on Elysian Fields, in the moment she'd taken that attack from Avaman the Announcer.

The war thundered on in her heart -- the war where she and Dragan had fought as comrades. Was that why she couldn't just give up on him?

"The girl you want to save," she said quietly. "Aclima. You said you made her suffer. Did you ever… did you ever promise her something, and then break that promise?"

Muzazi closed his good eye, the artificial one still staring forward. "Not in so many words… but oaths were made," he confessed. "I didn't honour them. I stole from her to take for myself. Yes, I suppose I did break a promise."

"It was the same for me," Ruth said. "I made a promise to Dragan… and I didn't keep it. I can't give up on him until I see the promise through. I won't be satisfied, otherwise."

They sat there in silence. The thruster between them blazed quietly, silver light dancing across their faces as they looked into it. In the flames, perhaps, a fortune could be told. A clear answer they could take in their hands and follow through on.

But no. Just fire. Just a patch of burning dirt, like so many more across the galaxy.

"It won't be him, you know," Muzazi finally said.

Ruth looked up at him. "It could be Aclima," she replied quietly.

Muzazi clenched his fist.

"Damn you," he whispered.

The convoy set off half an hour later -- and they were ready for it.

It would be too risky to attack the convoy in the no-mans-land surrounding Zepan. The city's exterior defenses would lock onto them quickly. Even if the massive guns perched atop each Ward didn't eliminate them, reinforcements wouldn't be too far behind. The members of Darkstar weren't accompanying this transport right now, but Ruth expected they'd turn up quickly if an opportunity to eliminate the fugitives presented itself.

That woman McCoy, for one. She'd managed to sculpt a replica of Kadmon's weapon from corpses. Weakened as they were, Ruth didn't imagine it would take McCoy nearly as much effort as that to exterminate them.

So, they'd wait until the convoy was passing through the city-ring, and attack using the buildings as cover. Since Muzazi was injured, they'd fight with Ruth as the main offensive force, with him concentrating on fencing the enemy in using his thrusters. When it came down to it, these were just automatics, after all. Ruth didn't expect it would take much to deal with them.

The real problem was what came after. Even if they weren't in immediate range of Zepan's defenses, Ruth wasn't stupid enough to think they didn't have some way of monitoring the vehicles and automatics they'd sent out. As soon as they started the attack, they'd have to act fast.

Disable the vehicles. Destroy the automatics. Get the trucks open.

A three-step plan. It was doable.

The wind blew through Ruth Blaine's hair as she waited atop the skeleton of a skyscraper, perched on the topmost girder like a bird of prey. The world was a bloody red through the eyes of the Skeletal mask, and her Skeletal claws dug into the metal beneath her. She couldn't risk using Empereur here and attracting too much attention too quickly. Her original armour would do just fine. It felt like it had been a long time since she'd fought in earnest with Skeletal alone, anyway.

It was nice. A return to simpler days.

They didn't have any communication equipment, so Ruth and Muzazi just had to trust that the other one was competent enough to get the timing right. Well, that was fine, too. She'd thought many things of Atoy Muzazi over the years, but she'd never thought he was a dumbass. She didn't know if the opposite was true, though.

Well, she'd just have to trust that he trusted.

Her breathing light and nigh-silent, Ruth watched through those bloody lenses as the distant convoy set off -- and, minute by minute, became less and less distant. She took proper stock of it as it came closer into view. There were two trucks -- the big transport one she'd noticed immediately, obviously holding something important, and then a smaller one that was probably carrying supplies. The bikes -- eight in all -- zipped and weaved around the vehicles protectively, driven by automatics of a type that Ruth didn't recognise.

They were big guys, each at least nine feet tall, their thin white faces and spindly structures making them look like fellow skeletons. They looked strong enough, but that wasn't what caught Ruth's eye. There was something oozing out of their shoulders -- a kind of black liquid metal, pooling down their backs before rising back up in defiance of gravity and slithering back into their chassis. It made it look like each of the eight automatics were wearing living dark cloaks.

Ruth suppressed a shudder. Whatever these things were, Pandershi had probably cooked them up himself. She couldn't take them lightly.

Right as the convoy was passing beneath, Ruth tensed up -- ready to launch herself down like a bullet…

…but the enemy beat her to it.

One of the automatics was upon her before she could even blink, leaping off of the bike and up into the sky with monstrous agility. It swung a spear and she raised her claws -- and as they collided, they were both sent flying into the building behind them. Glass and stone flew into the air above as the convoy accelerated below.

Clearly, they intended to get to a safe distance while Ruth was being distracted by the automatic, but she wasn't attacking alone.

Radiant Lustrous!

A wall of shining light-blades erupted from the road in front of the convoy -- and the two bike-riding automatics leading the charge didn't have time to brake. They were sliced apart by the stationary Radiants, chunks of bike and chunks of automatic scattering across the concrete. The other vehicles skidded to a halt as another wall of Radiants burst out behind them, fencing them in. As three of the skeletal automatics assumed defensive positions around the central truck, the other two leapt away to assist in the pursuit of Ruth.

Ruth swung her claws, and her enemy thrust its spear. Again and again and again their weapons clashed, sending sparks flying through the dilapidated building around them. It was frustrating -- Ruth knew that if she just used Empereur, this thing would be a speck of dust.

No, she reminded herself. Use your head.

As their fight continued into the building -- through what looked like it had once been a boardroom, with a long rotted-wood table -- the automatic changed. It looked like there was some kind of telescopic quality to its joints, and so as they entered this more cramped space it reduced its own size to adapt. It was still huge, a head taller than Ruth, but it was no longer stupid huge.

"Fuck off!" Ruth snarled, channeling her Aether into her right claws and swinging them at the automatic.

It blocked well, raising its spear, but even so the impact was enough to send it skidding all the way to the other end of the room, where they'd first entered. There was no time to celebrate the breathing room, though. As the automatic straightened up, silhouetted against the light of Muzazi's Radiants below, it was joined by its two comrades.

They raised their own weapons -- a katana, and a pair of hand-axes. The blades were blood-red and steaming. Ruth let out a breath, and the three automatics stared at her, their eyes glinting crimson.

No time to waste, Ruth, she told herself. Quit playing around. You're not that tired.

She was just about to leap forward, to start slashing and slicing until no enemies remained, when something happened. The lead automatic -- the one she'd been fighting originally -- cocked its head at her. Its jaw snapped away on a hinge, revealing the black bar of a speaker beneath.

And it spoke in a grating, mechanical voice.

"IT KILLED MY BROTHER"

Ruth blinked.

"No I didn't," she said, frowning.

The automatic did not reply, and the other two began talking as well.

"IT WENT IN THE TREES"

"DON'T LET IT GET AWAY"

"HAS ANYONE GOT BANDAGES"

They had that same voice, cast in a pitch outside the range of human vocal cords, but there was something about it. Not just the bizarre words, but the way they said them. It was like… it felt like they were making fun of her, somehow.

"Okay," Ruth growled. "Time to stop yapping, assholes."

"PLEASE ! MY BABY"

Ruth leapt forwards, running along the surface of the table. She infused it with Aether as she went, making sure it could take her weight -- and right as she reached the end of it, she flipped backwards to dodge a swing of the first automatic's spear. She didn't land on the table again, though. Instead, she seized hold of the light fixture above, hanging off of it like a monkey.

The first automatic hopped onto the table to pursue her -- that was a mistake. Ruth had released her infusion on the table as she had dodged, and now it was far from able to bear the automatic's weight. With a crash, the wood collapsed, the automatic sprawling as it lost its footing.

Ruth wasn't nice enough to let a chance like that go.

Snikt.

Her claws danced upside-down as she switched to hanging from her legs -- and a second later, the severed head of the automatic was in her hands.

The katana-wielder and its axe-hefting comrades moved together, attacking from both sides. Darting back down to the floor, the head tucked under her arm, Ruth flipped what was left of the table and blocked the katana-wielder's path for just a vital moment. Then, she retreated backwards from the flurry of slashes the axe-wielder unleashed, emerging out of the conference room and into the break area beyond.

The axe-wielding automatic charged forward in pursuit, and Ruth spiked the severed head right at it with her leg like a football. The impromptu projectile was charged with her crackling red Aether, audibly buzzing as it flew through the air. Whatever it hit was going to have a bad time. The automatic leapt to the side, allowing the head to fly through the wall behind it…

…but that was just what Ruth had been expecting.

While the automatic had been distracted, Ruth had demanifested and remanifested the claws of her Skeletal Set -- only, when they reappeared, they were no longer attached to her gauntlets. Instead, they formed a chain of interlocking blades that she whipped out with one hand -- and wrapped around the break room's fridge to form a makeshift flail.

From there, all Ruth Blaine had to do was swing.

The top half of the automatic's body was obliterated as the infused fridge swept through it, scattering electronic innards all across the room. The automatic's legs continued walking for just a few shaky steps before collapsing as well. Ruth let out a breath as she reeled the fridge back in.

"NO ! I LOVED HIM"

The katana-wielder lunged through the smoke, passing through Ruth's flail range instantly. She released the fridge and returned the claws to her gauntlets, raising them up to block the swing that had been intended to cut her head in half. The two of them pushed against each other, the skeletal face inches away from the Skeletal mask.

"WHEN THE HELL IS THE SHUTTLE GETTING HERE ? YOU SAID ANY MINUTE"

Suddenly, the automatic brought its body low, trying to sweep Ruth's leg out from under her --

Skeletal Set!

-- but the entirety of her armour, manifested on a single leg as a lump of indiscriminate metal, easily blocked it.

Skeletal Set!

That same armour moved as one to Ruth's right hand as a twisted boxing glove -- one she thrust down towards her opponent. Metal screeched and tore as the automatic raised its hands to block -- and as it retreated, its right arm and katana went flying away, roughly ripped apart. It jumped back once, twice, putting distance between the two of them.

For a second, Ruth thought it would try to escape entirely and regroup with the rest of the convoy, but no. Instead, it raised its open left hand, pointed it towards her --

-- and fired it like a rocket.

The unexpected nature of the attack meant that Ruth was a second too late to react. Before she could blink, the disembodied hand had slammed into her mask, fingers curling around her temples and latching on tight. A high-pitched beeping began to sound out from the hand's wrist.

It didn't take a genius to work out what was about to happen. Shutters narrowed over the automatic's eyes as if in pleasure.

"YOUR FUCKED"

Boom.

At the same time as the explosion went off, the automatic went to take a single step backwards… only, its foot never quite managed to reach the floor.

There was a flash of red -- and a second later, the automatic's body collapsed to the ground, cleanly sliced in half diagonally. Ruth Blaine, now standing unscathed behind her fallen enemy, grimaced as the black liquid cloak splattered across her legs. In her hand, she held the weapon that had dealt the finishing blow -- a sword crudely formed from the fused-together claws of her Skeletal Set, just as she'd done with the chain earlier.

As for the bomb, that had been a little trickier.

If Ruth had switched out her Skeletal Helmet for her Noblesse one, her face would have reflected the impact of the explosion and been spared damage, but the rest of her body would have borne the brunt of it. If she'd put on the entire Noblesse Set, that would have dealt with that problem, but the floor around her would have been destroyed. There was no telling how far she'd have been sent falling, and the entire building could have collapsed on top of her.

So, she'd had to think outside of the box. She'd manifested the Noblesse Set around the explosive hand itself. Normally, that would have been useless -- the Noblesse Set didn't reflect attacks from within the armour -- but Ruth had taken that into account.

She'd manifested the Noblesse Set inside out, so the 'interior' was facing outwards and the 'exterior' was facing inwards. That way, when the explosion went off, it was reflected in all directions and essentially cancelled out. It had made a big boom sound, to be sure, but Ruth hadn't even felt the slightest bit of heat.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Ruth let her sword become claws once again. Turning things into swords was Serena's thing, after all. If she kept going like that, she'd have to start paying royalties.

Ruth had expected to have to fight the other three automatics when she got back to the convoy, but it looked like Atoy Muzazi had beaten her to the punch. Two of them had been sliced apart, smoke still rising from the molten metal… but for the third, it looked like the Full Moon had lost his patience.

He'd spawned Radiants around the enemy, and then sprouted more Radiants from those, and more Radiants from those -- until there was a tower of light-blades in the middle of the road, impaling the automatic from all sides. It didn't get much more destroyed than that. As Ruth approached the now-defenseless trucks, the Radiants disappeared, letting the skewered and burnt husk drop to the ground.

"I thought you were meant to be taking it easy," she said as she approached.

Muzazi was using one of the bisected torsos as a chair, elbow resting on his knees as he caught his breath. He definitely looked pale. "Would that I could," he said quietly.

"What?" Ruth raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think I'd be coming back?"

"We're in unknown territory," Muzazi replied -- well, no, that wasn't actually a reply, he just dodged the question. Ruth took in a deep breath before deciding to just let it go.

"Well," she said, hands on her hips as she turned towards the vehicles. "To the victors go the spoils, yeah?"

It was just as they'd expected with the first truck. Food supplies, water and clothes, things like that. If there were other research facilities on Nehr Müt, these were probably for the personnel there. Ruth and Muzazi helped themselves -- it had been a day since either of them had eaten -- and then loaded up as much as they could into bags they tied together from the clothes.

Then there was the main event. The two of them stood before the back of the larger truck.

"I'll do the honours," Ruth said, stepping forward.

There wasn't any time to waste. There was no telling how long they had until reinforcements arrived. Ruth's Skeletal claws appeared over her fingers and she dug them right into the middle of the sealed truck door, slowly but surely prying it open.

It resisted for only a moment -- and then she was able to fling it open, the sound echoing throughout the empty city-ring like a gunshot.

In the back of the truck was a person, a human being, just as they'd hoped. But it wasn't Dragan Hadrien. It wasn't even Aclima.

Instead, strapped into a capsule at the back of the truck, was a brown-skinned man with long dark hair. His head hung down -- he was clearly unconscious. Tubes were implanted into cybernetic ports all across his body, running into liquid tanks above the capsule.

Ruth blinked. "Who the hell is this guy?" she asked.

Muzazi took a step forward, lifting the man's head up with a hand so he could get a good look at his face. His brow furrowed for a moment, before his eyes widened. "What?" he said.

"What?" Ruth echoed, much less surprised. "Who is it?"

Only, now that his hair was out of his face, he did kinda look familiar. Ruth put a hand to her chin, considering it… and found her mind cast back to the memory of a particularly loud niain. She frowned.

"Hold on," she said. "Didn't this guy try to blow me up?"

"Reyansh Patel," Muzazi confirmed, baffled. "He was part of the Citizen's organization back on Taldan. I fought against him… and, briefly, alongside him. I assumed he'd managed to slip away into obscurity, or went on the run. What is he doing here?"

This was the last person Ruth had expected to find in the back of this truck. She threw up her arms. "Well, what do we do now?"

Muzazi considered it for a moment. "If Pandershi wants him for whatever reason… then I certainly don't want Pandershi to have him. Help me get him out."

The two of them worked to get Patel free, undoing his straps and removing the tubes one by one. They weren't exactly doctors -- black liquid sprayed out from the ports when the tubes were roughly tugged out, and even tiny insects seemed to skitter off out of some. Finally, though, they managed to get the unconscious man out of the capsule.

Ruth supported his limp body on one shoulder. "Right," she said. "The reinforcements will probably start searching this place once they get here. We should head to the other side of --"

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She stopped speaking. She stopped moving. For just a second, she even stopped breathing. It was the same for Muzazi. Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth could see his pale face, caught in a moment of crisis.

As one, they finally turned their heads and looked.

Something was coming.

Something was roaring over the horizon.

Ruth had expected Pandershi to pull out all the stops for a Nebula and former Supreme candidate. She'd expected a damn army of automatics, backed up by aerial and land vehicles, with Aether-users too. Maybe some lab-rats that Pandershi had cooked up. Maybe members of Darkstar.

He'd sent one person.

One person, on a bike, coming towards them from Zepan at frightening speeds. A colossal plume of dust was rising in their wake, kicked up by their passage. They'd arrive in only two minutes, maybe even less.

"Miss Blaine," Muzazi said seriously. "You should take Mr. Patel and run."

She swung her head around to face him. "Are you crazy?!"

"I'm injured," he said sharply. "It'll be more difficult for me to escape. You're in good enough shape to get away with Mr. Patel before our pursuer arrives."

"You…"

"There isn't time to argue," Muzazi snapped. "Am I wrong?"

Ruth hesitated -- but only for a moment, before hauling Patel over her shoulders and turning away. Before she went, she said one last thing without looking back: "Don't die."

Muzazi smirked. "Don't worry. We're not close enough for me to sacrifice myself for you."

Ruth set off, full speed, and the city became a blur around her. She didn't turn around. She didn't trust herself to. Instead, she sped down streets, weaved through buildings, leapt from rooftop to rooftop, putting as much distance between herself and the wrecked convoy as possible.

The smoke from the convoy had long since disappeared from sight by the time that Ruth stopped -- but she didn't stop by choice. She fell.

Oil sprayed from a clean cut on Ruth's mechanical ankle, and she fell right on her face in the middle of a courtyard. She skid along for a good few meters -- if not for her Aether, she probably would have left half her face behind. Patel's unconscious body flopped to a stop next to her.

They caught up?!

As she went to pick herself up off the ground, she heard a voice. No, she heard voices. The same voice, more than once. The voice she'd come here looking to find.

"I got her… hahaha… I-I cut her…" said Dragan Hadrien, close to her ear.

"Her? Are you stupid? Obviously, it's not one of us, then," said Dragan Hadrien, standing over her.

"Lift her head up, please. I believe I recognise that individual," said Dragan Hadrien, high up in the sky.

Ruth Blaine looked up…

…and Dragan Hadriens looked down.

Dragan Hadrien, squatting on the ground and staring at her.

Dragan Hadrien, looking down at her like she was dirt on his shoe.

Dragan Hadrien, floating in the sky and staring at her without emotion.

Three different Dragan Hadriens, side by side.

AETHERAL SPACE 17.1

"Nehr Müt"

DAY 1

"I will retrieve the Supreme myself," said Alexandrius Toll, Ascendant-General of the Supremacy.

The tiny First Minister of the Body, made huge by his hologram, raised an eyebrow at Toll's sudden proclamation. "Oh? It's a little early in the discussion to just decide that, don't you think?"

Toll's glare hardened. "You misunderstand the situation. I'm not proposing anything to you. I'm simply informing you of what is going to happen -- and that's a level of consideration I'm not obligated to give you people."

The communications room was dim, illuminated only by the three massive holograms that towered over the Ascendant-General. The so-called Three Wise Men, desperate for dominance they knew they couldn't win, made sure that the hologram systems for flagships like this displayed them at an impressive size. It was a repulsive attempt by the weak to mimic the markers of strength.

"Such a harsh young man." The red-robed Second Minister, already tall in person, now truly loomed like a vulture. "It's a shame… things would go much more smoothly if you cooperated with us, you know?"

"More smoothly for you," Toll glared. "I don't take that into consideration with my decisions in the slightest."

The Third Minister chuckled. The Inimant wasn't miniscule like the First Minister, or gangly like the Second Minister… in fact, he seemed like a fairly normal person just from looking at him. A man of average height and average build, with brown hair and brown eyes. That mundanity in itself was his abnormality. That, and the fact that he stood with the other two 'Wise Men'. They always appeared as one, a single beast with three lying heads.

"Gentlemen," he raised a calm hand. "We should know by now that trying to change the Ascendant-General's mind is a fool's errand, right? So let's hear it, Alex. What's your reasoning here?"

Alex. Like they were friends or even colleagues. Like even being in the presence of these parasite's voices didn't make Toll feel sick to his stomach. He swallowed his bile and answered tersely.

"First," he said. "The Supreme is our sovereign. Our duty is to come to his aid."

"I'd say it's rather ambiguous if he is still our Supreme, don't you think?" the Second Minister said. "That position is for the strongest. I find it rather hard to believe that the strongest is someone capable of being captured by the enemy."

"The law of succession is that the mantle of Supreme is transferred once the Supreme is killed," Toll replied. "Not defeated. So long as he is still alive, he is still Supreme, and our duty is unchanged."

The First Minister raised a finger. "Yes, yes, of course, very good. Only I must disagree with my esteemed colleague. My apologies, esteemed colleague."

"Unnecessary," the Second Minister chirped. "It's the mark of a good working relationship when people are capable of disagreeing with each other like this. Please proceed, esteemed colleague."

"Thank you, esteemed colleague. Your grace in the face of adversity is an inspiration to us all."

"The point?" Toll forced the aggravated words out.

The First Minister's sly eyes flicked back to look down on him. "The question isn't whether or not he is still Supreme," he said, as if explaining something very simple to a child. "It's whether he is even still alive. The whole galaxy saw him as a severed head, after all. That's often considered fatal. Even if it wasn't, he fell into the hands of that man Pandershi and the Darkstar rogues right after. Who knows what cruel fate he might already have met?"

"It's sad, but true," the Third Minister interjected unwelcomely.

"It's not ideal to host another Dawn Contest so soon after the last one," the Second Minister sighed. "But mayhaps it's a blessing in disguise. A reset, hm, from all this pointless aggression we've been seeing recently?"

Toll took a deep breath.

"I'll choose to ignore that blatant treason," he finally replied. "At any rate, the safety of the Supreme is not the only reason I'm going to Nehr Müt. It will also benefit the Supremacy as a whole."

The First Minister pursed his lips. "Oho?"

"In terms of technological advancement, the greatest jewels in the galaxy are the Paradisas branch of the Final Church… and the Pandershi Foundation," Toll explained. "Since Pandershi replaced Monadere on the UAP's Central Governing Council, they've been able to catch up to us in weapons development and defense technology in barely any time at all. Hell, maybe they've even surpassed us in some areas."

"Careful now," the Third Minister muttered.

"I've spent the morning speaking to what remains of the AWL about this," Toll continued. "They all agree: Nehr Müt is a treasure trove of scientific achievement. Whoever seizes control of it will enjoy a great advantage in the coming war. If we can capture Pandershi alive, we can even put him to work for us. With Pandershi having discarded the protection of the UAP, there's no better time to strike."

"How wonderful," the First Minister slapped his hands together. "You've actually put some thought into this, it would seem."

Toll ignored the barely veiled insult. "And finally… Darkstar."

With that one word, from his own mouth, his composure nearly broke -- but he clasped his hands tight behind his back and kept his heart in its place.

"They are a threat to the Supremacy," Toll said simply. "If you deny that, you are a fool. Until now, it's been impossible to locate the group as a whole. Kadmon forbade us to execute their leader -- and once he escaped, they slipped into the shadows again. Right now, though, we know exactly where they are. With Pandershi having destroyed all ways in and out of the system, there's nowhere for them to run. We'll never have a better opportunity than this."

An opportunity for justice.

An opportunity for vengeance.

The face of a child bled through Toll's mind, just for a moment, before he stuffed it back down.

No doubt the Three Wise Men understood. Toll had spoken of the Supreme, and Toll had spoken of the Supremacy, but this grudge was what was driving him to Nehr Müt more than anything else. At the start of this meeting, he had said he would retrieve the Supreme himself, but everyone present knew what he had really wanted to say.

"I will kill Niain myself."

The Three Wise Men glanced at each other, query and response packed into their inscrutable gazes -- and a moment later, the First Minister smiled.

"You argue well, Ascendant-General," he said benevolently. "Very well. The Body will approve your mission, and grant you use of the Axel Alexander with which to reach Nehr Müt."

I don't need your permission, worm. I'm already on the Axel Alexander. I'm already on my way to Nehr Müt.

Even with that running through his mind, though, he just gave a stiff nod. His point had been made already. Anything beyond that would just be argument for argument's sake.

"Only…" the Second Minister said.

Toll frowned. "Only what?"

"We must consider the possibility of us losing both the Supreme and the Ascendant-General. That would be truly disastrous, don't you think? Myself and my esteemed colleagues believe you'll require additional manpower to ensure your safe return."

Toll's frown deepened into a scowl.

"As such," the Third Minister took over. "We've taken the liberty of employing the services of an accomplished warrior to serve as your bodyguard in this conflict. Please, enter."

The doors behind Toll slid open, unwelcome light pouring into the chamber. His scowl deepened even further as he looked over his shoulder. Just as he'd expected, the man standing there was the person he'd least wanted to see.

Zun the Immortal, Commissioner of the Special Officers. His monkey-like tail waved in the air behind him. His mouth opened into a greedy grin.

"Shee-shee-shee…"

He opened his mouth.

"Ascendant-General Toll, what a pleasant surprise, it certainly has been a while since we last saw each other. Ah, I shouldn't say that, should I? Well, it's not that I'm unable to say -- I have a mouth and tongue and vocal cords just like anyone else, well, just like most people -- but rather that it'd be shameful of me to do so. It's not true, after all. Now, I won't say that lying -- or rather, providing incorrect information, because that can sometimes be unintentional -- is always a dishonourable act, I'm sure good deeds have been accomplished via dishonest means, but in this case it would just leave a bad taste in my mouth to continue with that sort of misinformation floating around. So, I'm going to go through the two 'untruths' I gave you-- because it wasn't my intention to lie -- one by one. First, the first thing I said. Not 'Ascendant-General Toll' -- although I suppose that could be an untruth, since Ascendant-General certainly isn't your first name -- but instead the fact that I said this was a pleasant surprise. Oh, please don't misunderstand! I didn't mean to cast aspersions upon your character. Whether the surprise is pleasant or unpleasant has little to do with you personally. Whoever was standing in this room when I arrived, I'm certain my train of thought would not have changed. I'm very confident in the workings of my own brain, you see, have been ever since I was a child. No, what impacts the quality of our meeting are instead the circumstances. Our Supreme is captured, our Sheshanaga in rubble, how could a surprise like this -- no matter how pleasant the company involved -- be anything but unpleasant overall? Next -- oh, hold. I know I said 'next' just now to move immediately onto the next topic, but I don't want you to think I'm rushing you or anything. I have the utmost respect for your time, Ascendant-General. Please understand that when I say 'next', it's just because I want to keep the information flowing, not because I think you're failing to keep up or lagging behind or anything like that. Quite the opposite, I think you're quite intelligent! I always enjoy our conversations, and I hope you do too. That's just my hope, though, so don't feel obliged. It's not good mentally for too many hopes to come true, as you can start becoming conceited. Guess correctly long enough and you start thinking you're commanding, right? You're a commander, so that may not be too far off the mark for you, but for little people like me that can quickly spiral into delusional thinking. Anyway, I said it had been quite a while since we last saw each other, but that's so ambiguous, don't you think? We exist inside the same command structure, so I'm certain I've seen you and you've seen me very recently, just not at the same time. Even if you weren't in the military, I'm a public figure, you know? You'd probably see me in the news somewhere. It's the same with our positions reversed. That is to say, with me as a member of the public and you as a government official, not me as the Ascendant-General and you as the Special Officers Commissioner, although that's another interesting scenario. At any rate, hello."

Toll clenched his jaw.

Once he'd managed to escape from Zun's verbal bombing campaign and finally ended the call with the Three Wise Men, Toll marched down one of the corridors of the Axel Alexander, Pax by his side. His Abra-Facadian second-in-command -- while Gregori was away -- hurried to keep up with Toll's long strides.

The Axel Alexander was the third -- now, the only -- ship in the Supremacy with an onboard lightpoint, and the newest of them. Named after the legendary pilot of the Zeilan Morhan, it boasted state-of-the-art facilities and systems. If you had to get into enemy territory as quickly as possible to launch an attack, you couldn't ask for a better chariot.

Three days, and then they'd be standing on the surface of Nehr Müt.

"You were right," Toll grunted as they walked. "They sent Zun to keep an eye on us. Any more prophecies you've got for me?"

Pax ran a finger down his temple. "The Deathmarks got heavier all around as soon as Zun boarded the ship," he said quietly. "Whatever the Body's planning to have him do, it doesn't bode well."

"Well," Toll smirked. "That's why we've taken measures of our own. Your 'younger siblings'."

As the two of them passed through an open doorway, those very 'siblings' were visible among the soldiers in the cafeteria beyond. Short figures, their identities concealed by grey cloaks and basic silver masks. There was no disguise quite as convenient as an Abra-Facadian.

They'd told everyone that those two were Pax's younger brother and sister, 'Lax' and 'Tax', here to assist with the mission. That was absolute bullshit, but everyone pretended to believe it. In truth, they would be the countermeasure against Zun's plotting.

Despite everything, Toll felt sorry for Caesar. That woman had worked her entire life to turn the Special Officers Commission into an institution of prominence in the Supremacy. She would be rolling in her grave if she could see what had become of it now -- a puppet of the Body, headed up by a literal dancing monkey.

"They deal with Zun," Pax nodded slowly. "When we arrive on Nehr Müt, then, what's the greater plan? How do we deal with Hazzard, for one?"

Toll answered without hesitation. "Gregori's taken the initiative to infiltrate Darkstar's ranks. When we arrive, he'll be in a prime position to sabotage the enemy forces from within. We couldn't ask for better conditions."

Pax looked away for a moment, but said nothing.

"Is there an issue?" Toll asked.

"No," Pax shook his head, expression concealed behind his mask. "Only, if that's the case… do we really need the Prisoner, as well?"

"You think he's a risk?"

"I think he's unpredictable."

Toll snorted. "Those are big words from a precognitive… but predictable or not, he's a powerful asset. I'm not the sort of person to turn down an advantage, Pax. We're using him too."

The two of them stopped in front of their destination -- a massive set of doors that led to the Axel Alexander's tertiary cargo bay. In truth, though, it had already been converted into a holding cell. Toll glanced down at his subordinate.

"Make sure the Honest Men are prepared for anything that might occur during the voyage," he said seriously. "I have some negotiations to perform."

It was deathly cold inside the holding cell. If not for his Aether bolstering his body, Toll expected his Pugnant internal heating would have had to go into overdrive. But it only made sense that they hadn't bothered keeping this place warm.

After all, the creature being contained here wasn't the sort of thing to care about hot or cold.

In the centre of the long and cavernous cargo bay, cleared of all else, was a cage. A cage bound with loops upon loops of Neverwire, such that if the Prisoner tried to escape it would only end up destroying itself. The cage was equipped with a burn module, too, capable of incinerating its contents in three seconds flat should the need arise.

With the Prisoner, you could never be too careful. There was no telling what it was capable of.

"...oh?"

The voice of something that was not human echoed throughout the cargo bay, and Toll stepped forward to meet it.

He couldn't see the speaker from out here. Right now, all he could see inside the cage were strings. Countless thin strings of each and every colour, like a massive spiderweb. Perhaps that web was concealing the Prisoner. Perhaps it was the Prisoner.

After all, Wu Ming wasn't exactly limited to a human form anymore.

"I have a proposal for you," Toll said carefully, looking deep into the cage. "We're on our way to the planet Nehr Müt. We'll be conducting an operation there. If you assist, I'd be willing to grant you your freedom."

"...mm…"

It didn't sound like he was biting. Fair enough. Toll knew how the minds of people like this worked. He had experience dealing with Kadmon.

"There are many powerful enemies there," he continued. "The man called Niain and his Darkstar. Pandershi's Unseelie. There will be quite the battle. I can assure you, you won't be bored."

"...eh…"

Toll frowned. He'd honestly thought that the Clown of the Supremacy would take more interest in that, but he sounded like he was barely awake. He wracked his brain… but it didn't take much thinking for the next carrot to find its way into his hand.

Atoy Muzazi had been taken to Nehr Müt along with the rest. And if Atoy Muzazi was trapped somewhere, then it was a safe bet that…

"Morgan Nacht will be on Nehr Müt soon enough," Toll said. "Your protégé, I understand. That doesn't interest you at all?"

"...hm…"

For the first time, a note of interest entered Wu Ming's voice -- and he stepped forward, into view. Toll's eyes widened fractionally. Wu Ming certainly had changed since the last time he'd seen him.

Black lips smiled.

The first thing Toll was reminded of was a mime. Wu Ming's skin -- or rather, the strings that formed his 'skin' -- was white as chalk, while his lips and the diamond-shaped marks around his eyes were black as ink. His long hair was dark, too, worming its way down his back in several solid tendrils. The only thing he had for clothing was a simple pair of suspender pants, the straps up over his bare shoulders.

And yes, he was smiling… but at the back of his gaze, in the far distance, there was something that might have been exhaustion.

"A real seven-outta-ten proposal there, Toll…" Wu Ming said, his words lazy and slow. "Sounds like fun. I'm in."

His smile widened into a grin.

"So let's make a contract… between you and me."

The sun was rising over Serendipity, but Bruno del Sed had never felt lower.

He sat atop one of the skyscrapers that had survived the Sheshanaga's bombardment, looking down at the rescue efforts below. The UAP was in dire straits. They'd lost numerous Nebula in the battle, they'd lost numerous Nebula to Nehr Müt… and they'd even lost Nebula One, turned into a solid statue to save the city from the Sheshanaga. There was no telling if he'd even be able to come back.

So much destroyed, so many dead… and for what? At the very end, Bruno had reached out his hand, and he'd found it empty again.

Why couldn't he ever just keep hold of anything?

Serena sat down next to him. "Hey."

"Hey," Bruno mumbled back.

It was strange. He didn't even have a human body anymore -- his avatar was just a sculpture made of barriers -- but he swore he could feel fatigue, right down to his bones. Bones he didn't even have anymore. A bitter smirk rose to his lips -- lips he didn't have anymore, either.

"Annatrice wanted me to see if you were okay," Serena said gently.

Bruno looked up, surprised. "She did?"

"I think she thought you were going to jump off, you know? Because you're so sad?"

Bruno's sister had never been the most tactful person in the world. He just barely managed to stop his smirk from becoming a genuine smile.

"You wouldn't even die, though, so I don't think she had to worry," Serena continued. "Since you can fly, you know?"

Bruno failed. He chuckled with just the tiniest bit of humour as he swung his legs off the edge of the building. Soon enough, though, it became just another sigh.

The two of them sat there in silence for a while, watching as the sun slowly lifted into view, watching as orange light began to wash over everything. Even after a day like yesterday, Serendipity was a beautiful place. It was like that orange light could just clean everything away.

Bruno wished it was like that, anyway.

Serena spoke up first. "I'm worried about Miss Ruth," she said.

Bruno nodded silently.

"Are you worried about Mr. Dragan?" she asked.

"I'm worried about everything," he replied quietly. "What's happened… what's happening… what's going to happen next… but what's the point? No matter how much I worry, it's not going to change anything. We can't do anything. We can't reach them anymore. And I still can't stop worrying."

The next words out of his mouth were hesitant and treacherous, words he'd never have dared to say to anyone except Serena.

"I…I think maybe I'm tired of trying."

She said nothing.

He said nothing.

They didn't need to say anything. The fires below, the smoke above, the devastation within… it all told the whole story. You could only lose so many times before you got the fight kicked out of you.

Bruno --

"Bruno del Sed," said a voice from behind them. "Serena del Sed."

Bruno turned at the same time as Serena. There, standing on the other side of the rooftop, was a little girl wearing a spherical helmet. One of the surviving Nebula. Nebula Nine -- Luna, from Abra-Facade.

Someone who could see the future.

"Would you like to try one more time?" she asked.

Bruno blinked.

Bruno swallowed.

Bruno cursed.

Damn, he thought. There's really no helping me after all, is there?

Bruno spoke.