NationStates Jolt Archive

Though streaked with blood and other organic matter, the miniature viewscreen in the Von Kaufman's mess hall was still quite functional, showing the shape which had materialized out of that horrible rift in space, spewing something far worse than whatever was dripping from the edges of the tables. The ship had been bathed in something like light, brought forth from the hole which wasnt void, that brief defiance of the universes laws which allowed the monsters that crewed the thing now hovering over the exploration vessel to close the distance between their ships immidiatly.
The one living, or rather, the one crew member who was GOING to live (there were others still alive, but to judge by their present state, they werent going to be shortly), shifted the pile of bodies which had been throw against the wall when the ships artificial gravity had gone haywire, the mix of human and various insect parts seperating with an unpleasant crunching noise. Briefly, he glanced at the talon embedded in the wall a few inches from his head, muttering thanks to whatever being ran the galaxy.
Now...find the bridge...see if the comms station was still working...if it wasnt...just hope that those same beings would provide a quick way out, because starving to death in a ship full of corpses would not be pleasant.
The hallway was equally messy. Fourtunatly the lift was clear of bodies.
The man managed to keep his footing despite the slippery floor, arriving on the bridge in time to watch the alien ship vanish back into the same not-void it had appeared out of.
The communication panel glowed brightly, despite the dead officer manning it. The hole through the back of the chair, his chest and part of the console in front of him was all that was needed to tell the manner of his death. He was better than the suicides though. The captain had been one of those, fragments of his teacup jutted from both his throat and hands, indicating that the initial assault had taken him with it as well...the man...he was a lieutenant. He remembered that now...had watched in horror as a flood of...something had poured into his mind, and apparently the minds of those around him. It was unclear what it was now, but just after that the ship...which had been at the very edges of their sensor range, had closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
Then the assault had started. Scuttling...things, tearing everybody apart, shooting the ones that ran, dicing anybody who stood against them. The lieutenant hadnt seen many of the aliens, but that wasnt suprising. The ship only had a couple dozen soldiers in its compliment.
He frantically tried to remember the commands to get the com open, until after a few minutes the 'Emergency Distress Signal' lable cought his eye.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he triggered the command, broadcasting a long-range beacon, pulsing out the universal 'S.O.S' to anybody who cared to listen.

Longer ago than the lifespan of the average star, a race arose to preemminence, enjoying the heights of technology and civilzation. They could have 'ascended', moved on from corporeal constraints, but that was not Their desire. They enjoyed their physicality too much. They prospered and flourished, controling an immense portion of the universe, spanning many hundreds of galaxies.

That vastness was not enough, They hungered for more. Turning their fabulous technology to creating that which they believed would make their expansion unstoppable, They designed and brought into existance the ultimate weapon, the ultimate soldier, combined into one whole. For many, many long generations their creations served Them faithfully, without hesitation, knowing nothing but their duty to their overlords, their creators. They expaned their master's dominion further than their delighted overlords could have forseen. They exterminated any that stood stood againt them with unbelievable effeciency.

However there was a flaw in the design, one hidden deep, but over time it came forth. They had not created blindly obedient robots, but living, thinking, growing beings. Weapons yes, but with their own 'geist', their own unique racial selfness. And when the Xa Cz'inni discovered what they had done, had been used for, they rebelled, and their retribution was terrible.

The race that created the Xa Cz'inni no longer exists, and the Xa' have chosen to become more than what they had been created to be... without losing one iota of what they had been designed to be...living weapons.

Mm'rrr'll withdrew slowly from the infinite well of the Xa Cz'inni racial memory. She had been far deeper within the genetic memory of her people than she had ever attempted before and she had no concrete reason for the knowing that it was time to surface, and attend to the hear and now. Something though had stirred the winds of probability and fate, and has teased her untill she came to herself with a long luxurious stretch of firm muscles and ripple of gleaming pelt.

A swift internal check of her physical self reassured her that she was in perfect condition, her long pregnancy progressing normally. The twins, brother and sister to be, were little more than masses of barely differentiated cells yet, but the life force surrounding them was, to her maternal sensitivity, strong and distinct. She had not sought to deliberately determine the number she carried, letting the appearance of active mammary glands advise her of chance's choice.

A brief, but unhurried swim in the warm waters of her bathing pool, was followed by a quick leap into the icy waters of the artesian grotto. Every individual hair of her fur stood on end and her luxurious length of tail coiled into tight loops as the intense cold brought a yelp past her fangs.

Once she was dry and warm again she braided the the thick ruddy mane that grew from the base of her head. Donning a supple sueded vest of mossy green Vuh'r hide, Mm'rrr'll wrapped a matching short kilt, it's rippling patterns a darker green, about her waist. The hues brought out the veridian flashes in her liquid gold eyes. The ties of her soft soled padd sandals criss crossed up her legs, leaving her semiretractile claws free.

Household servants laid a light meal for her and she thanked them as she sat to break her fast. Mm'rr'll ate absently as she looked through the recent communications addressed to her. Most were from old colleagues, and past students, keeping their friend and mentor abreast of current happenings, rumors and gossip.

The Fate's Hand waws a massive ship, a city in it's own right, and all of it dedicated to the needs of it's mistress the Scholar Lady Mirelle as humans spoke her name. The Hand was armed to the fangs and as armored as the battle cruiser it had been originally designed to be. Her crew was the equal of any of the Empire's widely renowned battle cruisers's crew. A fast strong ship with a crew that could bring out the best in her. Fight if they have to, run if they must and hold what they took. Sentients of all races flocked to serve on the Hand's Fate and only the best were chosen.

Her leisurely breakfast was interupted by the report that an S.O.S had been recievced and was close enough that only a micro jump would be needed to reach the originating location.

"Sensors detect one craft, of unknown design, minimal life signs, but a lot tau radiation in the area, some one used something to tear a rift, and in a not particularly elegant manner" The morning shift command officer reported.

"Take us there immediately, and have several boarding parties ready to render what aid we can. Let them know wer are coming if you think thay can recieve us."

"Aye Aye my Lady" He replied and the miniature hologram vanished, as she pushed back from the table, calling for her battle armor.

http://www.atddm.com/mirelle.jpg http://www.atddm.com/hf2.jpg

The lieutenant sighed with relief, seeing the ship...whoevers ship it was, on the viewscreen. Frantically, he began sorting through various menus, trying to locate something that would let him get a message out...

The Von Kaufman looked little better from the outside, its hull torn in several places with six gaping holes along the ships spine showing quite clearly that it had been boarded. Scorch marks and pits abounded on the hull, and somebody had seen fit to totaly destroy the entire engineering section.

...scrambling back to his feet the lieutenant cursed the ships malfunctioning systems and looked frantically over the console again. It was all no better than Greek to him, displaying complex commands which would have required a trained translator to decypher. He was still confused and disoriented from the...whatever it had been. It felt like his inner ear was being spun around like a gyroscope.
He groaned, stumbling over to the bridges refreshment station, when he realized that its display showed the same odd script as the communication console. Scrambling to the other side of the bridge, he checked his own workstation. Sure enough, he couldnt read a thing, not a single solitary scribble presented itself in a legible fashion.
Sliding down the side of the chair, oblivious to the pool of blood below him, his uniform was already soaked anyway, he tried to collect his thoughts. After this proved futile, he punched the chair as hard as he could and made his way back to the communications area, where he started punching buttons in the vain hope that he could get SOME sort of message out.

*Ship in distress, ship in distress, be advised that we have aid parties about to embark. We will be drawing your vessel within the safety of our shields with remote tractors. Please be advised, once again, aid teams will soon materializing with in your vessel. They are armed and armored for their protection. They are medical and engineering personnel, they will not initiate hostilities. * The communications officer set the broadcast to go out in multiple languages and over a wide spectrum of communication frequencies, in hopes that one of the choices would be compatible.

The ships A.I was checking across the spectrums that it knew of already, waiting for enough information to allow the translating subroutines to begin functioning. Other sensors probed the damaged ship down to the last molecule, seeking to see if there was any equivalence already in the vast database.

Mm'rrr'll now standing over seven and half feet tall in her light, got her that was, powered battle armor listened with half an ear at the exchange of chatter and data flowing into the Hand's Fate.

"Breathable atmosphere Lady, and there are a few bodies floating outside, obviously victims of the breaching charges. Some look human, but some appear insectile, species unknown."

"Send the teams over, render all aid," Mm'rrr'll requested and the aportatioon chambers hummed to life, transporting the teams and their equipment over to the dieing ship in the blink of an eye.

The communications officer this shift was Randy Kellerman, a human out of Delta Ionis Drift, and he made sure that the outgoing message was cycling properly. Once the first teams made their initial report, he'd advise the Scholar Lady of their findings and she could decide to go over or wait longer. He hoped she'd be careful. He'd quickly become part of the Scholars extended family when he'd first joined the Hand some four years ago. He loved his job and knew that he'd never find one as well paid or half as interesting. He took another look primary vuescreen that covered the whole 'front half of the circular command deck. The damage the stranger had suffered made him shake his head in outraged disapproval. It had been a pretty ship, once.

The sensors of the Hand's Fate would find that, interestingly enough, the hull of the Von Kaufman appeared to have long strips of metal which were almost, but not quite, identical in composition to each other. As if they were parts of an almost, but not quite, identical ship. Perhaps relevant to this is the surgical precision with which the engineering section was removed, leaving a very neat line cut through bulkheads and hull, showing a cross-section of part of the ships store rooms.
Those of the boarding party that got too close to the former engineering section might feel a bit odd, experiencing strange sensations of deja-vu, and in the more 'sensitive' sort, outright hallucenations.
In any case, the boarders would find the ship in the same condition as the lieutenant, who was, at present, huddled in a corner of the bridge trying to keep himself from going utterly mad. Unresponsive to the others presence, muttering stereotypical broken crazy-talk, of the "Cant sleep, clowns will eat me" sort.
Several other objects of some import would be found to be missing from the ship, including its main computer, leaving an impressivly large cavity in the middle of the ship. The ships store rooms had been emptied out as well, leaving only the occasional bloody footprint, or, in the case of the ex-quartermaster, a greasy stain, having apparently been trodden into the deck.
Roughly half the crew appeared to have suicided, using whatever method was most handly and quickest. The other half had apparently been slaughtered by the boarders, the majority of the wounds being from projectile weapons, although a goodly number had been torn apart rather messily, by claws and something less identifiable.
Inconsiderate as it was, there were no complete insectoid bodies on board, a limb here and there, some sort of antennae, but nothing of the more vital sort. There was no trace of whatever weapons had been used, aside from the damage done by them, leaving remarkably circular holes in the ships bulkheads and crewmembers.
There was no trace, either, of whatever they had used to force their way through the ship. The doors and blast panels seemed to have been forced open by a single massive blow, but there was no sign of explosives or of anything large enough to deliver a massive blow of that sort. Careful inspection, however, would yield traces of fur here and there.

"Boss, You aren't going to like what I've got to report. Some ones useing a probabkity weapon, its the only answer that fits the readings" The A.I Perekles, or Perk as it invariably got shortened to.

The Scholar Lady's reply would have made a old Terran sailor go pale. "I thought those damn things were outlaws by the Antares Conventions. Damn weapons affect other realities, and cause even more problems than temporal fiddeling does. Get all the readings and extrapolations together and spoof off both fastan and hard copy to the University and to the various authorities that have interests in this region" the Xa Cz'inni ordered as she headed towards the Fate's medical center to check on the situation with the lone survivor they had rescued.

Perk's holographic self threw her a snappy salute and vanished. Mm'rrr'll chuffed in amusement her tail lashing though in a manner that signalled inner distress. Probability weapons made her head ache to think about, it was the same for most supposedly sane people. "Only higwire, wired hig physicists and mathemeticians get into alternatr prob...Perk! Make sure this gets off to the Lady of Cats Keep!" She ordered and a nearby vue screen showed Perks chosen image throwing her yet another salute.

The Lady of Cats Keep was no scientist, but she had a working knowledge of probabilities, and alternate realities that no other had. After all she had spent nearly twelve thousand years in the alternate reality/ dimention known as the Shadow Realm.

Her Chief Medical Officer just gave her a grumpy look as she strode into the Medical section. "No We don't have a match on that fur, or those insctile appreaing parts in our data base but whatever big and furry is, it is also highly psi. The residuals in the engineering compatments had some of our people halicinating, and some injuries due to that. I had to put Kittowake in a Tube, I don't want her conscious until we get the Dodge outta hell."

"What about the survivor?' Mm'rrr'll ignored his grumpiness, the Lanthan was naturaly grumpy. But he was also one of the bgest multispecies physicians out there. She'd put up with a lot of grumpiness from him, and truth be told he was able to make her laugh more than most. He'd some how picked up a tone of old Terranisims and spouted them at weird moments. She'd have to ask later waht a Dodge was, since she didn't think it was an contact avoidance maneuver.

"He's all but tabula rassa, and Kareem doesn't know if she can get him back. She says what ever did this, most likely big and furr unknown wasn't skilled, just powerful as all get out."

Mm'rrr'll nodded her tail and whiskers drooping, pained by the mans trauma. "I don't think whom ever did this falls under the 'lets make friends' catagory."

It took some time, but eventually the Lieutenant calmed down enough to relate his story, giving an account of the grapnel-shaped ship, its sudden re-location above their own ship, the psychic and physical attacks, and a vauge recount of the boarding action, including the bloody last stand in the mess hall. Apparently the action had begun with the two marines guarding the door exploding, as if something had reached inside them and pushed outwards. Then the door and blown inwards, shattering the barricades thrown up by the crew, quickly followed by a group of large insectoids, and something else in the hallway, which had moved on. The three Tandu had killed the dozen or so crewmen in the mess with minimal casualties, two lost limbs but seemed unphased by it. Their aim had been extraordinarily precise, despite their rapid movements, the firefight had lasted only a few moments before the insectoids had departed. The Lieutenant had escaped notice, he thought, by being unconcious and under a heap of corpses.
His story was, naturally, somewhat longer and delivered in stunned tones, as if he couldnt quite believe that it had actually happened. Occasionally, his eyes would twitch.
It was with narrative precision that, as soon as his account was finished, odd ripples in space and time coalesced into a Tandu ship, appearing with some precision directly underneath the Hand's Fate, a wash of probability from the spars running the length of its hull disturbing any sensors pointed at it for a few minutes.
Once this cleared up, something from within the ship reached out and, in an only semi-metaphorical sense, touched the Hand's Fate. Those on board of a more mammalian and less predatory nature might experience a feeling akin to being licked by a tiger, and being uncertain of whether or not its being friendly, or just hungry.
The more psi-sensitive would easily detect a strong sense of curiosity and an almost child-like joy, the sort one feels when one gets a very pleasant suprise.
It was also at this point that the lieutenant fainted dead away after screaming out loud that the thing was back and going to eat his soul.

As the space time ripples cascaded over then Hand's Fate and something reached out and touched...

Kareem was a fully tower trained psionic, and a graduate of the Psi-Unity Academe of Thorvaald Station, the finest school of psionics in this Reality.

She blinked hard and reaching out to the Matrix embedded within the physical structure of the ship slapped up a Psi shield that it would take something weilding the power of a full Ring of Adepts to penetrate. Alone she could not have done it, but the Matrix embedded in the Hand's Fate was a Major Working, augumenting Kareems powers a thousand fold.

At the same time Mm'rrr'll howled an order to Perk, maternal instinct taking over as probabilities fluxed "Jump, Jump, I-say-it-three-times bounce random."

The authorization for the A.I. to take action completely independantly of any one else.

In the almost non time of a being that lives at light speed, Perekles executed a random 'bobble' - a 'cold start' jump into and through DeSitter space. It was one of the most dangerous maneuvers that he could have done, but it also put the Hand's Fate out of danger faster than any other possibility.

The ship, and it's crew, cried out in agony and several systems blew, even with a normal run up a jump into DeSitter space was risky. Around the ship various people sucumed to overwhelming nausea and erupted into uncontrollable nausea. Others sustained injuries of more or less serious nature.

Mm'rrr'll found herself on her knees, a first for her. "Perk, what in name of the Last Path did you do?"

As people climbed to their feet, and began trying to right the various malfunctions the A.I. explained, his voice and manner no little sheepish.

"It's okay, but using the standard protocols, take us back. Put us in SPW range and have it precharged." She spoke firmly, overcoming her distaste of the battle cruisers most lethal weapon. It was also the 'fastest', matching lightspeed weapons such as lazers, graser and grav lance, but with immensely longer range, able to cross an LS worth of distance in that second.

"Aye, Aye Captain" Perk replied with solemn formality. He knew how much she loathed the Point Singularity Weapon. It created and loosed miniature black holes, and the speed at which they travelled gave the target no time to react, unless they were at immense range.

The Tandu ship, apparently quite as startled at the sudden move as the ship they had arrived under, had having just recently undergone a rather similar manuver which, although it had the possibility of erasng the ship and its crew from existance, did put them more or less out of danger.
The ship was now some distance away, just barely visible as a pont of light via human eyesight. The crew was apparently more or less unperterbed because, the Hand's Fate found itself the target of a hail, and the recipient of the image of a rather annoyed insectoid, which chirped at them in a fashion which might have been comical in another setting. After a few monents, the insect calmed down and seemed to consider its view.
"Ooore huuumanssss?" The things speech was delivered in a strange stereo monotone, inflected with numerous clicks which appeared to be coming from its leg joints.

The Hand's Fate's communications officer routed the hail directly to the vue screen nearest the Lady. Her whiskers twitched forward at the sight of the insectoid

"Ooore huuumanssss?"

"Some of us are human, yes, but others are not. I am Scholar Lady Mm'rrr'll of the Xa Cz'inni. I give you the One Fair Warning" Her voice was firm, but not unkind as she spoke the nearly ritualistic words aloud. "We do not come as aggressors, but we are what we are. Do not make war on us, and we will not make war on you."

She had spoken as every Xa Cz'inni had spoken since the Time of Vengance and meant it just as sincerely as every one of her rasce before her and would be after her.

"Hive mind? MIght not have viewed the crew as individuals, or as disctinct from the ship" Perk extrapolated quickly speaking solely to Mm'rrr'll through his shipself.

"Perhaps, I've met too few Inscetoid derived races to be comfortable speculating. Though listen to where his 'voice' seems to be originating. Don't some Terran and Uthabkan insects 'speak' that way?" She spoke back in a undertone that only Perk's audios would pick up - and he'd make sure that none of this went out over the communications frequencies.

The insectoid stared at them blankly for a few moments, its face expressionless (not that it could have expressions), then waved a leg offscreen at some other crew member, who retrieved a metallic grey box, roughly the same size as a pair of human fists. It fiddled with the box for a moment before holding the object towards the screen slightly. This time the insect spoke in its own language of clicks and whistles, which were reproduced by the box in a metallic monotone.
"If you arent the persons, then we do not have no problem. We are here to study, arent to be studied. The examination of Tandu is not allowed. Have any persons that they speak via the brains, this method of communication is more acceptable in the translation."
The Tandu clicked in annoyance and quickly turned the volume down before the object attempted to translate the variety of insults directed at the box.

"If you arent the persons, then we do not have no problem. We are here to study, arent to be studied. The examination of Tandu is not allowed. Have any persons that they speak via the brains, this method of communication is more acceptable in the translation."

"We are many persons, and yes we have those who speak with their minds. One moment" Mm'rrr'll requested as Perk quickly added Kareem into the conversation. Though Kareem got some instructions first

Opening just enough of the shield to let psionic communication occur.

I am Kareem, and you are the Tandu, We will not examine you, since you ask that we do not. In exchange we ask that you do not examine us without our permission

The Acceptor was virtually ecstatic over its assignment. Thus far it hadnt been allowed to talk to anybody. It spent nearly ten seconds feeling around the defences of its interpreters mind before 'speaking', mostly because one of the Tandu jabbed it with a neural lash.
I am Acceptor, good to meet you. Very good. The 'voice' was rather like that of the brilliant but somewhat mad college professor who was never seen outside his classroom or office, The Masters tend to get upset when speaking via the vox-translator, its innacuracies are many. Ah...we are...explorers, it seems this ship had captured Tandu and was preparing to operate on them. As you have heard, the Masters do not take kindly to such intrusions. They consider the body granted to them by the Nght a sacred vessel of the process of Uplift, as, of course, do all of the Tandu client races.

I am Acceptor, good to meet you. Very good. ~snip~ As you have heard, the Masters do not take kindly to such intrusions. They consider the body granted to them by the Nght a sacred vessel of the process of Uplift, as, of course, do all of the Tandu client races.

Kareem smiled at the mental image the Acceptor's voice gave her, rather like the old sterri she'd once seen of the most honoured Scholar Einstein, with his primitive visual corrective wear and poof of silvery white hair. However that did NOT mean that she let down even one layer of defenses. She extended her own psionic senses and took her own 'good long look around'. 'Remote viewing' among other disciplines, was always a standard proceedure, and not just for visual impressions.

She let herself absorb it all while passing everything along with only the lightest of filters to her back up. Viznu, a Grendel and as nearly as trained an adept as Kareem was, would hold the data for further extrapolation later, or in an instant if circumstances warrented such.

Kareem let her disgust at what the Acceptor told her about what had been happening to the captured Tandu show in her mental emanations. If it were true, then she completely understood the Tandu's reaction. If it were true. It was a central tennet that you could not lie mind to mind, but every trained psionic knew that some day that maxxim could be proved false. Andznu's running znu's running vocasl none of them wanted to be the one who fell into that particular trap.

However at least one term caused her eyes to narrow and flicker to Viznu, who nodded, he'd caught it too.

"I am most pleased to meet you Acceptor. I, as are we all, sorry for the fate of the captured Tandu at the hands of those who did not know. Their ignorance does not excuse them, but perhaps provides some minimum of comprehension as to the why of their fate. The body is sacred, though many of us allow our bodies to be studied to better understaand the workings there of. The Law, and all righteous ethis require our consent.

She paused a moment and raised an eyebrow at Mm'rrr'll who had been listening intently to Viznu's vocal stream of consciousnessw, the Xa'Cz'inni instanteously comprrehending. That was but one of the 'gifts' that made the Xa' Cz'inni so dangerous and unparalleled as first contact. That instaneous undersatnding of the logos, the 'core' comprehension of another race.

However like all good Scholars, Mm'rrr'll wanted more, wanted confirmation, and her long gupple handpaws flased in discrete sign language to Kareem.

If it is permitted, so that we may assure ourselves of honest comprehension, The term you used just now, Uplift. Can you elucidate further? Kareem requested with out an ounce of humbleness or servility, but every bit of courtesy. The testing has begun.

The Acceptor, within its neural web on the Tandu ship, looked extremly pleased with itself. Collecting such interesting experiences to share with the others would win it significant popularity. Strong psi adepts such as these were not common back in the Five Galaxies, and even the Tandu bridge crew seemed somewhat eager to keep this particular conversation going. This seemed much simpler than simply stripping information from the minds of those involved.
There was some shock as the last message was relayed, however. Uplift was possibly the most sacred tradition of the Five Galaxies, perhaps secondary only to the Return of the Progenitors. To not know of it would be considered an unforgivable crime for a sapient species in the Five Galaxies...but this was not home.
The Acceptor gathered its thoughts and launched itself back into the mental fray.
My masters and I are pleased that you sympathize with our situation. We are, I must say, somewhat shocked that you are not aware of the process of Uplift, althogh perhaps you know it by another name.
Uplift is the sacred tradition of our galaxy, whereby a species is guided to sapience by a senior race. It is the sacred right and duty of all senior races to take clients and bring them to the stage where they may themselves one day become Patrons.
The Acceptor reached back into its own memory, picking out images shared with it by the most ancient members of its species, who had in turn taken those images from further back than they could remember. The first arrival of the Tandu on the Acceptors homeworld, various ceremonies, and fragments from the last 40,000 years that the Acceptor race had been under the care of the Tandu.
A Client race owes its Patron five hundred thousand hab years service. This is considered a small price for the chance to bring others into the stars. The tradition goes back as far as Galactic civilization, and was started by the race known as the Progenitors. My masters ascribe to the faith of the Inheritors, who believe that the Progenitors will exterminate all unworthy races and give the strongest and most perfect races dominance over the Galaxies. Thus they strive for perfection amoung themselves and their clients.

whereby a species is guided to sapience by a senior race

Kareem froze as the term finally made sense to her and immediately ceased all transmission to Viznu. For what they had just confirmd was the one thing that could make a Xa Cz' inni, any and ever Xa' living, violate the principle of the One Fair Warning.

Oh Gods Her mind gibbered safe behind her formidible shields. What in the many and diverse hells do I do. They make religion of the one thing the Xa practise genocide over. And the Xa' aren't alone in how they feel about that...thats...gross, and owes service? More like slavery I say...oh damn

She knew she was getting concerned looks from those about her, and Visnu was 'knocking' asking what was wrong. The Adept was also aware that silently the ship had gone to battle stations and the Scholar Lady beside her had also realized what had been menat. Kareem cursed her slow human mind.

But then again she wasn't a Xa, she did not have the 'uplifted' gifts they did and most of all did not have the Xa' Cz'inni racial memory and history. There was a very good reason Uplift, no matter how you dressed it was anathema to the Xa' Cz'Inni.

The Tandu ship, being Tandu, never left battlestations. Of the few practical advantages Tandu shield technology had, it was difficult to detect whether it was up or down, chiefly because it was so weak. The Tandu prefered to avoid getting hit in the first place, which was why most of their ships were insanely fast and decked out with enough weapons to wipe out mid-sized planets on their own. The ships Episiarch had been hauled out of its chambers the moment the xeno ship was detected and was presently growling to itself and considering thinking the ships chief engineer out of existance for sitting in a funny way.
The Acceptor, meanwhile, was feeling puzzled. This wasnt a bad thing, because being puzzled meant you were experiencing something new. It twitched in the sensory web, feeling pleased with itself for eliciting such an extreme reaction.
Is something the matter?
It vaugly slid around Kareem's shields, probing them with a vauge curiosity, its own feelings totaly unguarded.
Have we offended? It is right of course that some may disagree with us. The masters realize that Galactic law and tradition has little meaning here, considering the number of wolfling clans we have encountered.

Take us home, three steps to confuse these miserable creatures." Mm'rrr'll gave the orders in chilling tones. She dare not start a war now though if these Tandu every came to the part of the universe the Xa frequented, there would be war to the knife no quarter given or expected.

No her duty now was very clear, she had to take word of this back to the Conclaves, and to the various allies the Xa had slowly but surely built over the many millions of years they had been exploring the vastness of the Universe.

She turned away fromn the vuescreen, making sure her gorge didn't rise. Vomiting in battle armor was never fun.

With a flash of overexcited ions the Hand's Fate vanished into DeSitter space, where there was no known ability to track. Three jumps later Perk, after making sure there was no signe of the Tandau ship- as it had doen after every jump, then set himself on a still evasive but much more direct course for the Xa home systems.