[B][i]NFC command group teleconference, shortly after Mace wing”s databurst was received…[/i][/b]

“Well, it is quite the deviation from the plan, but having had time to think on this, I think it actually suits our purposes rather well.” Cygnus said from on board of the Explorer. “ We can now pressure the Terrans to launch the invasion they want to launch anyway a few weeks before Mace”s attack. That way we are guaranteed to knock some Vasudan ships out from the fight, whether the Terrans succeed or not. What do you think, admirals?” the Faira proposed a plan.

“While I have some reservations about using the Earthers like this,” Libra grunted from the ‘Hexus, “it is as you said - They are set to throw themselves into the Vasudan blockade regardless of what we do. Like this, their sacrifice will at least have a meaning and lasting impact. All that assuming either the Singularity or the Halcyon will be ready. Will they?”

“I’m afraid the Singularity will still be far from operational readiness.” Astra chimed in from the Warrior,” Were we to devote all resources to the Halcyon, we might make the window, but I stress that the Halcyon can not stop a Lucifer class, and two years is time enough to encounter the Ancients.” The ascendant worried.

“We could use it to our advantage on more than one front.” Admiral Lindres noted from the Amare, “They are bound to suffer casualties. Any form of support or relief prior or following the attack will buy us some good will. And if not, the argument remains and it would paint them as ungrateful bastards.”

“I for one am looking for peaceful relations. Compared to any of the newly discovered races, we are a tiny nation even combined as the Confederation.” Libra argued, “Besides, goodwill gestures require something to be given, and we were concerned about material shortage.”

“Unless the help comes as intellectual property…” Astra hypothesized. “Mace wing suggested selling the block A Muon design to the terrans, and they have resources in spades anyway. They, much like us, have trouble consuming them fast enough, so we might even strike a deal for some industrial help with the Halcyon, and they should take it, because they will be able to build more firepower for the same man hours. Opinions?”

“I doubt they would agree to having their workers shipped off to an uncharted system by a race they’ve just encountered.” Zorea chimed in. “But I agree about the Muons. They should be able to build enough to be of considerable help in their attack, especially after Mace wing’s performance. What do we ask in return?”

“We can have them build components or subassemblies for the Halcyon. Keeps our systems and most of the tech secret, but helps us the most in what we don't have: Factories. The industrial might Earth has to have to keep up a war in space for 14 years has to be colossal.” Astra noted.

“Very well, Admiral Libra, please get on the exchange with Ambassador Taranis. Back to the report Mace wing got through: I am considering assigning several of our scientists to aid in project Tsunami. If we contribute, perhaps the Terrans will grant us access to their accelerator. We should also start constructing our own, perhaps at Transfer”Juno? We will eventually want to switch to antimatter power generation sooner or later.” Cygnus proposed.

“Although Transfer’Juno is well defended, it is also the first known stop should any force invade our system. The Opportunity system has several planetside sites that could be used. Placing it in the Garden system would put it close to both Garden and Naris, meaning workers wouldn’t be an issue.” Ascari noted.

“If we’re worried about invaders, we might as well put it somewhere behind the Naris-Garden node, given its unique properties, not to mention the Defender Fleet.” The respective fleet’s commander added.

“Opportunity sounds reasonable. Well defended, everything solid mined in system, gasses one jump away in the Nebula, far from population centers in case of a containment breach. Very well, shall we order this structure in the private sector? I believe they can deliver in sufficient quality and state run shipyards are better tasked with shipbuilding.” Cygnus suggested, “Anything further to discuss?”

[b][i]Asteroid base ‘In Ardor clad’, 12 months later[/i][/b]

“Good grief. The Zods are still doing absolutely nothing of interest whatsoever. Ferry the rocks in. Melt them down. Build ships. No fleets coming through, no unusual classes being built, no military exercise, hell, not even a good terrorist attack.” Shadow complained as soon as she parked, having returned to the safety of their cavernous home.

The rock they were using as a hideout was as barren as a desert, but it had a large natural cave that fit the four bombers. With some assistance from the engineer, they even carved a bit of home into the walls.

Two months ago, Shadow found a derelict Vasudan transport they stripped for parts and set up a listening post. “Anything good on the radio?”

“No hails from either the Halcyon or the Singularity, so not really. The translator is a piece of garbage, I’ve been trying to learn Sandspeak, but it makes no sense.” Silver groaned from one of the salvaged chairs they put out for recharging their bodies. “Listen to this though - Their fleetnet has some terran stuff on it - We should put this into our EW suite instead of the other stuff we used.” she said playing the track.

Dark and grim,
your fate will begin
In the fire and the pain,
God will end on this Doomsday

“If that shouldn’t be the anthem of this wing, I don’t know what is.”

“Looks like at least some Terran artists might find their way onto the Narix market after all.” Taurus grinned. “But seriously, not even a fighter sweep of the system? Someone blew up a cruiser at your blockade, the same someone that captured two dozen of your people, they have to know something is up, no? Unless sending a cruiser bomb through and then doing nothing is normal here. Maybe we should’ve set the transport on a collision course with one of the shipyards instead, take care of that terrorist attack.”

“At least they’re predictable.” Pyxis, the voice of reason in the group, tried to push the positive things into light. “Two cruisers and several fighter wings on patrol at all times, a destroyer shows up to resupply every few days. Any attack is a matter of timing. Have you by chance found the melted Typhon at any of the salvage yards? I’m kind of curious what’s become of it.” The Terrans confirmed it was a new class, and losing one in such a way could’ve been a big blow to morale. If that could apply to fanatics.

“Well, as far as they know, all of the people beyond the Vega node are dead. Besides, who knows what we did to them since. First we blew up a cruiser stuffed with antimatter in their face, and if the rear admiral stayed at the helm of planning this offensive, it probably got worse from there.” Shadow pointed out, pulling up a chair and starting to decouple the extremities of her suit to soak up some of the sun.

“Aye, and each one of the resupplied destroyers promptly turned around and went either to Alpha Centauri or Deneb. I counted four individual ships in each, and there might be more. The Halcyon’s shield better work, or they are going to bleed, even if those destroyers are starved after we hit the shipyards.” Silver said darkly. “Makes me wonder what else did our side build. Think they built more Warriors? Or perhaps a civilian ship? I’ve had enough with the lottery, I want some maternity leave after this deployment damnit. Even if I have to build a house on that wet rock the Narix like. You were there working on the block C, right? Any arid and hot places that are somewhat bearable?” The leader asked Pyxis.

“If you like sand, sure, some deserts in the lowlands. But build a houseboat, or your kids will hate your antennae. Still above comfortable humidity though. Or dig in at the mountaintops and run constant life support for your cave.”

“No doubt Lancer fleet has a few new Privateers. If we pull this off, Asking for a suite at the Opportunity station might not be out of the question. And that’s run by the Narix, so moving there wouldn’t bother our resources.”

“Think they aren’t sure where else we can come from? They didn’t know about the Vega-Transfer node until we arrived. I’d certainly be looking over my shoulder, just remember the panic search when the Ancients showed up.”

“Heh, yeah. They scrambled every oracle in the entire nation to plug those holes. Not fun times.” Silver snickered, “I don’t feel anything here though, and I don’t think the Terrans are too keen on letting us into their systems to do detailed scan, because of course they aren’t. What else might we find? And wouldn’t we claim the systems we discovered? Everyone is greedy for space. The Narix weren’t too keen on it then either.”

“If you ask me, we should just get everything we have and shove it through the Vega - Deneb node. Don’t tell me that three Meteors and a Warrior couldn’t break through. Then we would go to Vasuda prime, turn it into a ball of glass, and we can start arming for the real war to come when more ANcients show up.” Shadow grunted.

“I’d be with you, but you can only shove so many ships through a node at once. Otherwise, it’ll be chaos on the other side.” Pyxis noted. “If the Terrans let us through their systems, we could launch a two-pronged offensive to Deneb AND Vasuda. That would probably overload the Vasudan temples. So many prayers, wooh.”

“You people need to go through officer courses. When you see the logistics required for that, especially if you would like our destroyers to fire for more than two battles, you’d know why we’re waiting for the one big ship. Aside form the fact that the Singularity can wipe out life on Vasuda prime with one shot, I bet we’ve been building transports, freighters and escort fighters non-stop since this war started and it’s still not enough.” Silver snorted.

“Neither the Terrans nor the Vasudans seem to be aware of the Ancient’s existence, at least the Terrans weren’t until we warned them. Does that make it better, or worse? Either they’ve packed up and left since they wiped out the Relics, hence why they haven’t been seen, or they’re just that good at avoiding detection. They’ve hidden a small battlegroup in Transfer, can you imagine if we found that every five systems? Or worse, woke them all up at once?”

“I don’t think it’s an If, I think it’s a when. The relics were no pushovers, they could create jump nodes, and the Hammerhead is the strongest ship of it’s class we have seen so far. The Warrior is treading that line, but again, when you count with the logistics, it falls way short. And the Ancients defeated them!” Silver summarized her thoughts.

“I can’t wait to scrap with another Demon. That old cripple was no challenge at all, and the capships ate the cake. I want one for my own scoresheet!” Shadow growled hungrily.

“Eight thousand years is a lot of time. Who knows what could’ve happened to them? Maybe they’ve all died of some freak tech plague and we just finished those that were isolated from it? And don’t forget they only showed up after we entered the system. Think a species like that would ignore fourteen years of warfare, if any of the theories are correct?”

“Shadow, what the fuck is wrong with you, honestly?” Pyxis shook her head. “If I never see them again until my death I’ll die a happy Faira.”

 “Let me flip this one around-” Shadows said as she got up from the chair and walked over to Pyxis, “-Why did [i]you[/i] join the military?” she said, seemingly towering over the engineer all of the sudden. “I joined because I love the game. I came to fight! Because I love to fight!” she explained, and strangely, Pyxis would feel a chill running down her spine and the urge to drop everything and run away, as far from this creature as possible.

“Inventors, right?” Silver snickered, observing the spectacle.

Up until Shadow’s mindspace spectacle, Pyxis was stretched out in her seat in the most homely way possible, in small part to taunt the hot-headed pilot.

When her foot stopped shaking, she returned to the question. “You may like the game, I like the gear. Would I be responsible for the first atmospheric craft since the exodus if I wasn’t in the military? I don’t mind a fight, I just like to think I’m sane enough to NOT want contact with civilisation-ending aliens. We already have two and a half genocidal species on the list.”

“Alright, sit down, the enemy is [i]out there[/i], not in here.” Taurus interjected.

“I know I know. I’m just bored sitting on this empty rock. First the recon flights cut it, but now I see all those targets and I have to wait.” Shadow sighed, “It doesn’t help that the only recon ship we have is the Commander, and we’ve had our control interfaces and seats tailored to our preferences, so I have to make use of Silver’s insane setup. She flies by entering vectors and a whole bunch of math like it’s a capship!” she pointed an accusatory finger on the wing leader.

“What, really ma’am?” Taurus grinned, having been ‘raised’ mostly in Narix-based cockpits. “I thought better of you. Doesn’t it take all the joy of flight away and turn it into mundane work?”

“Well, at least some of our bombers are capable of flying in atmosphere, where stealth is doable. Do the Vasudans have any presence on the planets here? If done right, we could strike there without being detected to stave off boredom. And then spend months hiding, doing [i]absolutely nothing[/i] while the Vasudans search the system.”

“Yeah not helping.” Shadow snorted. “Anybody up for a spar? Or even that terran game? I’m dying of boredom out here. Next time you brainiacs decide to launch a pet project, put a fabricator on the result, okay?” the pilot complained.

“Well, we could kill some time brainstorming a design for missions such as these. The Muon is a good frame but we had to modify it as well. There was talk of a recon sub class, although I think such a ship would be a class of it’s own…” Silver suggested.

“Hm, suit fabricators… Hmmm… Right, recon. It’s as good an entertainment as any. The Narix had a bomber that had its own crew cabin, but that’s too sluggish. Problem is: we essentially want to combine the Commander, the Engineer’s storage space, the fuel tanks from the Warhound and add a fabricator. Maybe a second seat to spread workload and allow working in shifts?”

“Definitely a two seater. Because it’s going to have to have more turrets than the Muon. Maybe even drop the fixed primary. Three turrets in a triangle setup, with similar engine setup flipped, like the Singularity? Good field of view for the turrets, full fire front and rear, two thirds anywhere else. Where to put the bombs though…” Silver thought out loud.

“If you put strong primaries on it, you might not need bombs. The RHVC is a good start, but it’s going to start struggling killing corvettes and forget about anything bigger, you are lucky to kill subsystems. Plasma might not give you too many shots for a clip, but you only need a ram scoop to resupply. That alone is a very strong argument.” Shadow chipped in.

“Either that, or you could only have primaries on the turrets and put a big internal bank in the nose. Or any big gun, really, the plasma sounds good. Do we bother with atmospheric capability? Probably not given the shape we agreed upon, yes? It would be nice if this ship could call back home once in a while, relay information back as it is discovered. Without being detected, of course. Ideas?”

“How about an AI to aid the crew? Plotting jumps, controlling turrets, electronic warfare, smart autopilot, that sort of thing.”

“Narix are useless for these kind of missions, right? If we can fit in an AI core, why not. With a gunner though, I don’t think that would be needed, and one would have to be an oracle anyway. I’d rather have a small secondary bay for TAGs and the like.” Silver suggested.

“This will have to be built around a fabricator anyway, can it possibly repair it’s own armor? The nanites are already there…” Shadow mumbled. A healing ship and a ram scoop would eliminate all need for support. “We don’t have any Intersystem comm system that is undetectable because it uses the node. But we wouldn’t need a broad range… Wasn’t there a theory about a point to point transmitter using some sort of quantum physics?”

“I think I read something like that, but don’t quote me on it. And with the fabricator serving as a self repair system, the only spare parts you have to carry around are to fix a broken fabricator. How big are we talking? Definitely bigger than the Muon, but by how much?”

“About the EW suite, what would you want there? Comm interception, maybe scrambler buoys?” Pyxis got a minor case of ‘The Casei’. “With the fabricator, you just need the resources, and you’re likely going to be hiding in an asteroid field anyway.”

“If we’re expanding on the fabricator so much, why not just coat the armor with a nano skin? The ship is already going to be expensive as a cruiser, so only a few will ever be made, might as well cram them up with the best stuff. Can a bomber sized fusion powerplant run all of that gear though? Keep in mind that with an increase in size, you also go up with the shield input.” Silver lined out the limits. “We’re doing this wrong, we’re already making plans and we didn’t even have a clear picture of what it’s supposed to [i]do[/i]. Damn, this shit is harder than it looks. What is the mission profile for these?”

“I thought long-term recon and the occasional precision strike, you? It’s going to be big, what’s stopping us from mounting two smaller reactors rather than a big one? Then you can even perform maintenance and while the other one is still up and running. And if something goes so horribly wrong one fails, the other keeps the fabricator working.”

“A few more minutes and it’s going to need a berth rather than a hangar. We should start writing it down so we don’t get completely lost in it. It could be somewhat simplified by replacing punchout capsules with fixed cockpits. Situations like these, nobody’s coming to help and getting captured isn’t too appealing.”

“Well, occasional precision strike is not what we aim to do here, we intend to fuck their shit up, no?” Shadow shrugged. “Which means less stealth and more bombs.”

“I thought we agreed on the biggest, baddest gun the galaxy has ever seen and ditch the bombs?”

“Yes, but she’s underlying the problem, we can’T have that and stealth. Let’s agree on the specification first…”

[b][i]11 months earlier - Naris system, Ignis, Armed Forces Detention Facility[/i][/b]

Several cells in one of the detention facility’s wings were quickly retrofitted to be more accommodating to Vasudan life according to interior of the captured cruisers. If there was much to make ‘more accommodating’ about four beds, four lockers, a table, an air vent, bathroom and light. The Vasudans arrived by a wing of plunderers straight to the facility’s closed hangar, but numerous airlocks and fully-suited personnel were indicative of atmosphere that couldn’t support life. To an observant individual, it would quickly become clear that one of the cell’s walls was in fact a gate, its purpose also quite clear. The captive pilots and cruiser crews were spread across thirty cells by four, with Battlemaster HaDo and the flight leader in their own, segregated cell. Each corridor had four guards, clad in black and red riot armor, on patrol in eight hour shifts, none of whom were particularly secretive about their disdain for the Vasudans.

“What do you think about our captors, wingmaster?” One of the pilots fortunate enough to avoid the impending execution asked of his wing leader turned fellow captive with equally limited rights. “What are their intentions?”

“They are feeding us decent food and while spartan, the accommodations are closer to a boot camp bunk than a prison. Ii believe we will live. They have in fact declared the squadronmaster and battlemaster responsible. Considering how many casualties they suffered, it is merciful. As for how we will spend our remaining days, being put to work, I imagine.

“Quiet, cultists! Step away from the door, hands over your face.” A Narix guard entered, watched by another from the corridor. “You.” he tapped the wingmaster’s shoulder, “File says you’re their wing leader, yes? You’re summoned for interrogation. Get out, walk fast and no one gets hurt.

The wingmaster compiled without a word, although with not much haste. The Vasudans could probably toss these creatures around if they so desired despite their powered suits, but the weapons made that a nonsensical prospect. They all saw what their shipboard projectile weapons could do - applied on a small scale, he did not need to see them used.

The interrogation room was about four by four meters, lit [color=FF7F00]dim-orange[/color] and painted battleship gray with black tiled floor. The door was in the right corner of the room. A mirror spanned the right wall near the ceiling, overlooking a metal table with one simple chair for the interrogated party and two comfortable ones on the opposite side of the table. The interrogation officers were already comfortably seated with cups of steaming liquid in their hands. Upon the Vasudan’s entrance, they set them down and woke up their tablets. The guards pointed the wingmaster at the free chair and assumed their place at the door, a click indicating it had been remotely locked. The interrogators switched on small table lamps, several magnitudes brighter than the dim ambient lighting, pointed at the vasudan.

The room was about the same as could be expected, albeit the Vasudan equivalent would be filled with hard to breathe humid air and the interrogated person would be kept in the dark to keep them sense deprived. The orange lighting was strange, the wingmaster wondered if it was an aesthetic choice.

The officer on the Vasudan’s right hand side spoke up first in a calm tone. “We want you to recount the raid on our depot, minute by minute, don’t leave anything out.” Of course, they had no way of knowing if the vasudan was or wasn’t lying, but maybe he would cooperate willingly.

“Wingmaster KheFrehm, Aries wing, Smite squadron, PVD Typhon. Service number 0101310201.” was all the Vasudan said to their inquiry.

So they trained their soldiers in a similar way. “The one we captured before the ultimatum was more useful.” The interrogator on the left shared with his comrade. “How about I just kick this thing out the airlock and see what it does? We’ve plenty more of the animals to talk with, for whatever good it will do.”

“Not yet.” the right interrogator shook his head. “Look, for the next several months at least, that is in the past. Right now, you’re V-052. There is no Smite squadron, or PVD Typhon, for that matter. You and your comrades are all that’s left, and it is up to you how many survivors of this Smite squadron will be returned home.” As right was talking, left called up gun camera footage of one of the Ira’s turret cameras from the engagement, starting about two seconds prior to the ship’s destruction, showing the Typhon’s final moments. Left continued: “Usually, the Republic does not execute prisoners, not unless our own have been mistreated first. That being said, you and your wingmen did fire upon unidentified vessels without provocation.”

“Not sure about the backwards mess you call ‘culture’, but here in the civilized space, that’s bad news for you.” right interrupted, seemingly losing his patience.

“To put things plainly, there are two ways this can go. One, you answer the questions, get sent back to your kinsmen within an hour and one day, if your leaders see it fit to talk peace instead of insults, you may even be repatriated. Certainly after the war is over. Two-”

“Two, you continue doing what you’re doing and the Inventor Fleet will receive a shipment of test subjects.”

“Given that we are at a state of war with your species, your are facing the wrath of three species over the pride of your leaders. WIthout cooperation, there is not much the intelligence corps can do to help you in your situation.”

 “Yeah, bioweapons are hard to aim. Deploy too high up over a city aaaand...”

”A nasty new biological weapon would be bad for your people. Think of all the unnecessary dead on Vasuda Prime. Are their lives worth this posturing?”

“You preach of civilisation, yet you would commit mass genocide. Regarding me and my wingmen, we will be judged by higher power for our sins. We followed orders issued by the squadron leader, and that is that. Your wrath on us is just, of that there is little doubt. Do with us that did you wrong as you see fit. But threatening my homeworld will get you nowhere, and only prove you are no better than the Terrans.” The Vasudan answered. “They tried for longer and failed.”

Behind the wall, a Faira telepath that has been learning the patterns of Vasudan mind since the first specimen arrived was paying close attention, linked to the comm suites of the two interrogating Narix. “He is content with his fate, frighteningly so. I believe it is the faith responsible. According to Ambassador Taranis, their fighting men are honored in the afterlife based on the worthiness of their death, so speaking is counterproductive for him.” she noted how the Vasudans emotional state was. “He is thinking of his family… KheSu, wife. KheDo, child.” she noted the names, perhaps it would be of some use. “Get him to think of home, maybe we can get a location too, use it to pressure him?”

“Terrans? Hah!” the left officer laughed. “You’re comparing a combustion engine generator to a fusion reactor here.”

“Mass genocide, reducing the enemy’s recruitment capability, it depends on the point of view. A simple pilot such as you couldn’t possibly understand.” The interrogators disabled their translators for a moment and leaned closer to each other.

“This is the reason we didn’t try converting the Crillists all those years ago. Once the mind is corrupted at a young age, there is no going back.”

“Do we call it off? We still have a few groups left, we can try a different approach.”

“Not yet. Let’s see if we can use the family, but I’m almost skeptical.”

Reenabling the translators, right turned back to the Vasudan. “We don’t blame you and your wingmen, the order came from someone else. What I do find weird is why no one thought to ask a simple question. We’ve seen Terran ships. Our cruiser could be mistaken, but the Fiara ship? Not one of you though something was odd?”

“Or do your leaders want dumb drones instead of independently-thinking pilots?”

The Vasudan sighed. “If I could access our targeting computer, I could explain. The Faira Ship is uncannily similar to a Terran design used about seven years ago as a military transport. The squadron leader, likely acting on the belief that Terrans were the only alien species present in the system, ordered the attack believing the Terrans brought the older ships out of mothball.” the wing leader finally shared, likely somewhat reassured that his head was not on the block. What he thought also matched what the squadron leader said.

“Quite an expensive misunderstanding, considering it’s cost you four destroyers already AND thrown you into a worse war than before.” left stated almost sympathetically. [i]Nothing compared to what lurks out there.[/i] he thought, but hasn’t said anything.

The Vasudan looked uncertain for a second. “Some on the ship were preaching the destroyers prophesied in the scrolls have arrived in the form of the Faira. I write it off to despair at seeing the best our newest ship class could throw at them being easily absorbed by the energy barrier it possessed, but the scrolls are based on decoded writings of an extinct race that visited our homeworld when our species was in its infancy. I believe that t0hey speak of something much worse. I can not tell you how our leaders would react, but from the safety of the parliament building, I have little faith that our leaders will seek peace without further losses. Now I believe I have said much more than I should have, and do not have much more to tell in either case.” the wing leader finished.

“These scrolls you speak of.” left leaned a little closer, “How old are they? Is it close or upwards of… eight thousand years?” He hoped the Faira in the observation room could get something from his reaction. After finding old Faira writing all over the Hammerhead’s systems, he had a hunch the relics might be more everpresent than they thought.

“I can not tell you. The originals are guarded better than the Emperor himself. To my knowledge, they must be older than our writing, so older than five thousand years. If they were ever dated… you would have to find a grand preacher at least, someone this high in the church might know.” the pilot said.

“He is honest.” the Faira shared, “See if you can get him to write something down, draw a likeness of the characters of the originals, something that we could match to the relic script.”

The Vasudan seemed more cooperative since being reassured of his safety, maybe it would be worth trying to reconsider their approach to fanatical ones, as threats did not seem to faze them. He’s shared more than he possibly knew. Guarding scrolls more than the emperor meant that either the emperor wasn’t that important to the empire’s function or that targeting religious sites could be a viable strategy.

“Would you recognize the symbols if you saw them?” right found a blank sheet of paper in one of the folders. “Can you draw some of them? Doesn’t matter if it’s just a few individual symbols.”

“Twelve of the ancient characters are used as heraldry of the twelve noble families.” The Vasudan said, drawing the given sigils. While slightly different, they would be a loose match for those on the Hammerhead. “How exactly we came upon them is known only by the Speaker of the Church and the Emperor. We know they were on an alien structure of some sort, but noone will be able to tell you if it was a building, ship or writing in blood on a cave wall.” The Vasudan shared.

“This is a problem.” The telepath mentioned, “If their faith is based on an actual thing, then no matter how hard we try, good luck to us getting rid of it. Every faction who wavers will be back in the fold and all they have to do is bring those artifacts out of storage and show them around.” The Faira summed, “Should we inform the Admiralty?”

While right was instructing one of the guards what to do with the Vasudan’s scribbled symbols, left responded to the telepath. “We might not have to get rid of it. We might be able to use it. After all, we are in possession of a Relic destroyer in working order, although with basic understanding of it. I’m confident in saying we know more about the Relics than the Vasudans do. But if they found Relic ruins or a derelict ship, there’s no telling what they could have learned from them. I don’t like the idea of RHVCs in Vasudan hands. Shall we wrap this up given this unexpected turn of events? At least until the high ups make their minds up about this?”

“Well, this was an interesting chat. Guard, escort the wingmaster to the transport and bring in the next one in eight minutes, we have a few new questions to ask.”